The first few days at Hogwarts passed in a blur of classes, hallways filled with chatter, and a growing mountain of homework for the first-years. Harry was struggling to keep up with the pace. Between Snape's relentless hostility, McGonagall's high expectations, and the stares he got whenever he entered a room, it was becoming too much.
It was during a free period in the Gryffindor common room that Harry found himself sitting next to Brooklyn, who was scribbling in her notebook. Fred and George were off "investigating" Filch's new filing cabinet system, and Ron was busy trying to wrangle Scabbers out of Hermione's hands after she'd threatened to test a new charm on him.
"You alright, Harry?" Brooklyn asked, looking up when she noticed his silence.
Harry hesitated before shaking his head. "Not really."
Brooklyn set her quill down. "What's going on?"
Harry took a deep breath, staring at his hands. "It's just... everything. The classes are harder than I thought. Snape hates me for some reason. And—well, people keep staring. Whispering. It's like they don't know what to say to me."
Brooklyn studied him for a moment before leaning back in her chair. "Yeah. I know how that feels."
Harry frowned. "You do?"
She nodded, her expression growing more serious. "Last year… after my mum died, and my dad…" She trailed off for a moment, as if weighing how much to say. Then, with a sigh, she continued. "My dad was sent to Azkaban. Got life. That was finalized this summer."
Harry stared at her, wide-eyed. "Life? Why?"
Brooklyn swallowed hard. "He killed her, Harry. My mum. In front of my siblings and me. He was an Auror—supposed to be one of the good guys. But something snapped in him. He was never super nice but this still shocked everyone"
"I—I didn't know," Harry said softly, his voice full of shock and sympathy.
"It's not something I exactly advertise," Brooklyn admitted. "But last year… after it happened, everyone stared. Whispered. Some people avoided me, like it was contagious. Others looked at me like they didn't know whether to pity me or be scared of me. And I was furious. I didn't want anyone's pity."
Harry hesitated, then asked, "How did you get through it?"
Brooklyn shrugged. "Fred, George, Angelina, Lee. They kept me grounded. Made me laugh when I didn't feel like it. And they didn't treat me any differently. That's what helped the most. People who don't see you as 'Harry Potter' or 'the kid with the scar.' People who just see you for who you are."
Harry nodded slowly. "I don't know if I have that."
"You do," Brooklyn said firmly. "You've got Ron. And Hermione seems alright, even if she's a bit… intense."
That earned a small smile from Harry.
"And," Brooklyn added, "you've got me. So, if you ever need to talk or just want someone to sit with, I'm here. Alright?"
"Alright," Harry said quietly.
"Good." Brooklyn gave him a small smile and nudged his shoulder. "Now, stop worrying. You'll figure it out."
A week later, the Quidditch pitch was buzzing with activity as the Gryffindor team held tryouts. Brooklyn stood beside Angelina, surveying the crowd of hopefuls that had gathered. Fred and George were already laughing about some of the more ridiculous-looking brooms, while Wood paced nervously, clipboard in hand.
"Ready to defend our spots?" Angelina asked, elbowing Brooklyn lightly.
Brooklyn grinned. "Please. No one's taking my spot."
The returning players—Brooklyn, Angelina, Fred, George, and Wood—had no trouble holding their positions. Alicia Spinnet, after a stellar performance, earned the last Chaser spot, much to her delight.
But the Seeker tryouts were a disaster.
One by one, students took to the sky, and one by one, they failed spectacularly. A fifth-year accidentally flew into the stands. A fourth-year spent most of their turn chasing a Quaffle instead of the Snitch. And one brave second-year panicked and flew straight into a goalpost.
Fred and George spent half the time trying not to laugh, while Wood's face grew darker with every failed attempt.
By the end of the tryouts, Brooklyn was standing with Angelina, arms crossed, watching as Wood threw his clipboard onto the ground in frustration.
"This is hopeless!" he declared. "We need a Seeker, and none of these lot can fly in a straight line!"
"Maybe we should just play without one," Fred joked, earning a glare from Wood.
"We can't play without a Seeker!" Wood snapped. "It's the most important position!"
George leaned on his broom. "Well, maybe the Snitch will just come to us out of pity."
"Shut up, George," Brooklyn muttered.
Wood ran a hand through his hair, muttering something about "another year of disappointment" before storming off the pitch.
"Well," Fred said, leaning on his broom, "this should be fun."
Brooklyn sighed, glancing at Angelina. "Looks like we'll be flying without a full team for a while."
Angelina nodded, clearly just as frustrated. "We'll figure it out eventually. We have to."
The Gryffindor Quidditch team gathered in the locker room, the air buzzing with anticipation. The first practice of the season was always exciting, but the mood was slightly dampened by the glaring fact that they still didn't have a Seeker.
Fred and George were entertaining themselves by flicking pieces of broom polish at each other, much to Angelina's annoyance.
"Can you two focus for five minutes?" she snapped, tightening the straps on her gloves.
"Focus on what?" Fred asked innocently. "We don't even have a full team yet."
"Maybe we'll just play without a Seeker," George said with a grin. "Think of it as a challenge."
Brooklyn, adjusting her own gloves, shot him a glare. "Yeah, a challenge to lose every single match."
Alicia Spinnet, still getting used to being on the team, looked nervously between them. "Do you think Wood's going to make us practice twice as hard because we're missing a position?"
"Probably," Angelina muttered, her tone grim.
Before anyone could speculate further, the door burst open, and Oliver Wood stormed in, looking unusually flustered. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, and he was clutching his broomstick as if it were a lifeline.
"Alright, team, listen up!" he barked, pacing to the front of the room.
Fred raised an eyebrow. "You're late, Captain."
Wood ignored him. "I've got big news. Huge news. We've got a Seeker!"
The room froze for a moment before erupting into chaos.
"Wait, what?" Brooklyn demanded, standing up.
"When did that happen?" Angelina asked, her eyebrows shooting up.
"Is this a joke?" Fred asked, looking suspicious.
"No joke," Wood said, grinning. "Professor McGonagall herself told me this morning. She's bent the rules. We've got a first-year on the team."
"First-year?" Alicia repeated, her jaw dropping. "That's not allowed."
"Exactly!" George chimed in, smirking. "What did they do? Bribe McGonagall?"
"More like stunned her," Fred added with a laugh.
Wood glared at the twins. "Shut it, you two. This first-year is special. McGonagall wouldn't bend the rules for just anyone."
Brooklyn folded her arms. "Who is it, then?"
Wood puffed out his chest. "Harry Potter."
The room went completely silent, everyone staring at Wood as if he'd grown an extra head.
"No way," George finally said.
"You're serious?" Fred added, his grin spreading.
"Dead serious," Wood said, nodding emphatically. "McGonagall said he caught a Remembrall during his first flying lesson—something about a fifty-foot dive. She says he's a natural."
Brooklyn raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "She bent the rules because he caught a ball? Or because he's Harry Potter?"
"Does it matter?" Wood shot back. "We've got a Seeker! A good one!"
Angelina sighed, shaking her head. "Well, I guess it's better than nothing."
"Better than all the disasters we saw at tryouts, that's for sure," Brooklyn muttered, remembering how awful the candidates had been.
Fred leaned back against his locker, grinning. "This is going to be interesting. The Boy Who Lived, playing Quidditch with us."
George smirked. "Wonder if he'll bring You-Know-Who to the match."
"George!" Brooklyn snapped, smacking him lightly on the arm.
"What? It was a joke!"
Wood clapped his hands loudly to get their attention. "Alright, enough chatter! Outside, all of you. We've got work to do."
As the team grabbed their brooms and headed for the pitch, Brooklyn glanced at Angelina, who shrugged.
"Well," Brooklyn said, smirking, "at least we know one thing for sure—this year is going to be anything but boring."
Fred grinned. "You can say that again."
With that, they took to the skies, ready to see if this mysterious first-year could live up to the hype.
Harry and Ron trudged through the crowded Hogwarts corridors, heading toward the Great Hall for dinner. Harry's mind was spinning. Not only had he been allowed to join the Quidditch team—a rare exception for a first-year—but the idea of playing in front of the entire school was starting to make his stomach twist.
Just as he was about to voice his worries to Ron, a loud, familiar voice rang out.
"There he is! Gryffindor's new Seeker!"
Fred and George Weasley appeared out of nowhere, their identical grins lighting up the hall. Right behind them was Brooklyn, her blonde hair in a braid swinging behind her as she caught up to her best friends.
"Wood just told us," George announced, clapping Harry on the shoulder.
"The twins and Brooklyn are on the team too, she's a chaser and they are beaters," Ron explained to his friend.
"Our job is to make sure you don't get bloodied up to bad." Fred grinned
George nodded along, "Rough game quidditch! But no one's died in years."
"Don't listen to them," Brooklyn said, nudging George with her elbow as she smiled warmly at Harry. "Congratulations, Harry. It's a big deal making the team as a first-year."
"Yeah, big deal," Fred added with a mock-serious expression. "Especially since you'll probably have a few close calls. Like Brooklyn here." He turned to Harry with a dramatic flourish. "She took a hundred-foot fall last year. Bounced right back up, though!"
Brooklyn rolled her eyes but played along. "Oh, sure. Nothing like plummeting from the sky to build character."
"Build character? I thought it built bruises," George quipped, grinning.
Harry gave a weak smile, but his face betrayed his growing nerves. Brooklyn noticed immediately and softened her teasing tone.
"Harry," she said, stepping closer to him, "don't let these two scare you. Quidditch is the best. I've been playing since my second year, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. It's the most fun you'll have at Hogwarts, trust me."
"Yeah," Ron chimed in, looking at Harry with excitement. "Brooklyn's brilliant. She's one of the best Chasers Gryffindor's ever had."
George threw an arm around Brooklyn's shoulders. "Too true. She's practically a legend. You'll be lucky to share a pitch with her before she goes pro."
"Stop it," Brooklyn said, laughing as she shrugged George off. "I'm not going pro. But seriously, Harry, you'll do great. Wood doesn't pick just anyone."
Harry's nerves eased a little at her words. Her confidence was infectious, and her genuine encouragement felt reassuring.
"Well," Fred said, grinning again, "you've got us lot to back you up, Potter. As long as you don't fall off your broom, you'll be fine. And just remember, sometimes people vanish during games..."
"But they'll turn up in a month or two!" George finished as Ron and Harry walked away.
"Stop it!" Brooklyn said, swatting their arms.
"What? It's good advice!" Fred said, laughing.