Half-Blood Princess

Borderline

Potions. Snape, yet again, managed to suck all the life out of everyone. Before starting Hogwarts, I was excited for potions because I thought it would be like magical chemistry (and who doesn't love watching their chemistry teacher blow up jelly babies!). Potions was just boring. We made notes on ingredients and how to cut things and, as if that wasn't bad enough, I had to do it with that ignorant toad...Charlie Weasley.
If you'd have seen the look on his round, smug face when he got an answer right and I didn't your blood would have boiled to. There was something about that boy. Tonks jokingly said it was because he's ginger and, to be honest, that made me feel better. Somehow, giving him an excuse to his poor behaviour helped me to not become so aggravated around him. Watching Tonks tryout for the quidditch team cheered me up too. As much as I loved watching them fly around the quidditch, pitch doing drills and just having a good time, it couldn't compare to flying itself. I felt like I'd missed out when they went inside to get changed and I awkwardly followed Tonks, who was talking to a third year, inside the castle. Head boy and Quidditch Captain, Ryan Watson, briskly walked up behind me and walked beside me inside.
"Good tryouts we had today, more people turned up than I expected." He was quiet when he spoke which I took to be because this whole situation was incredibly awkward.
"There were only six people there." I mumbled sheepishly feeling sorry for the low turn out. He'd seemed to enthusiastic about it on the first day of school.
"Yeah, but seven with you and that's more than enough for a team! Including me that is." He smiled as he said this, his voice getting louder as our conversation slowly became less intimidating.
"How many do you need on a team?" I asked cluelessly and his face fell at my comment.
"Seven." He said quickly and more quietly than before.
"But eight isn't more than enough. Don't you need subs and stuff? And I wasn't even trying out so you'll have to take everyone who was here today... even if they're bad!"
"I know... I know." He said slowly and almost silently. He hung his head while he said so, like he was embarrassed and didn't want me to hear. Then, his head sprung up in such a violent action that I worried his head might fly off.
"Join."
What?
"What?"
"I'm serious." He said blankly. His face was dead set and I knew he was being serious but I didn't want to. I wasn't ready for quidditch. I had no idea how to play and I'd heard that people die in this game.
"Really, I am. I asked Hooch for recommended players and she said you. You are Annabelle right? Annabelle Morris? She said you're friends with Tonks." 
I looked at him blankly for a minute (for two or three or five...) then argued my case.
"But I don't know how to play quidditch!" I said defensively with a tone that could be mistaken for irritability.
"Half the people at tryouts today didn't either, what else have you got?" He said, folding his arms and daring me to give another excuse. My words failed me and began talking again.
"I'm putting you on the team. Don't give me that look, I'm desperate. I'll hold another session to go through everything with the people who don't know what they're doing. If I can book the pitch before our first game that is."

I got inside just as the Gryffindors were coming out to hold their own quidditch tryouts. Woe and behold, Charlie Weasley walked out behind everyone in quidditch uniforms. He was in his robes and normal school clothes which made me smile that he wasn't even trying out and I'd already made the team. 

Just as I was feeling smug and good about the situation, he ruined it by talking.

"What are you doing here, Morris?" He snapped rudely, stopping in front of me and looking me dead in the eye. It wasn't intimidating because I was taller than him.

"None of your concern, Weasley." I retorted with all the snide I could muster (which was an incredible amount).

"Not trying out, are you? Because first years can't do that." He scoffed whilst sounding too defensive and a little let down. I tried so hard not snigger and his remark but I must have let it show. "What's that face for?" He snapped.

"...Nothing." I managed to mumble through pursed lips and shuffled off in the direction of the castle leaving him a little bewildered and a lot annoyed.

After I took some time to gather my tumbling emotions and make myself stop laughing, I went into the Great Hall to look for Tonks. She was sat on the edge of the group of Hufflepuffs who had just come from tryouts. I slid onto the bench next to her and finished my lunch.

It was now November and that meant Quidditch. The first match was between Gryffindor and Slytherin which meant I could watch a match before playing. I was nervous as to what I was letting myself into. Me and Tonks, along with the entire school, went down to the quidditch stands. Everyone went down there and the Hufflepuff stand was very crowded but it paled in comparison to the Gryffindor and Slytherin stands. There were students with banners and chants and some even had body paint! In November! 

Before too long, the teams flew out onto the pitch and Madame Hooch through the quaffle into the middle of the circle of players. The ball fell into the hands of a Gryffindor chaser and an enormous roar sounded from the Gryffindor stands. The quaffle had almost gotten to the end of the pitch before a Slytherin beater managed to hit the Gryffindor with the ball and he crashed to the ground. I winced. The ball made it to the other end and Slytherin scored 10 points. Everyone cheered and didn't seem to notice the poor kid on the floor. I was horrified and, above all the noise, managed to scream out my question to Tonks.

"Is that normal?" I screeched above all the cheering as Gryffindor shot the quaffle through the hoop and scored 10 points to tie with Slytherin. She looked at me blankly? "The kid on the floor!"

"Oh! Yeah, it's part of the rules! The beaters have to hit the bludgers at the opposing team to make them drop the quaffle. No one gets hurt really badly though, only a couple of broken limbs."

That's barbaric!

Gryffindor ended up winning with a score of 190-80 and, to be honest, I was sort of disappointed that a certain Gryffindor would get the satisfaction.