Yellow Badger [3]// Harry Potter // Draco Malfoy

Tryouts 1995

CHAPTER NINE: Tryouts 1995

Everything was dark, oh so very dark.
Reporters stood outside the entrance to the school, the flash of their cameras blinding me a little. In front of them was the Deloris Umbridge with her hands placed in front of her, she didn't move or speak, she just smiled. On the far end of the Quad, I saw Hadleigh lean on the wall, future me sat in between the stone arches next to Hermione as Jack, Roger and two others stood with us, with serious concern on our face.
"What happened to Dumbledore?" Shouted one of the many reporters, holding out their microphone as the Edison lightbulbs flashed across her face.
Umbridge did her usual two-tone giggle with an innocent smile that screamed 'I'm the villain of this story' as she clasped her hands together in front of her.
Hadleigh sighed," We are screwed."
"No." I shook my head," We are fucking screwed."
Hadleigh and I shared a look between us, uncertainty was the only thing I could see in both our eyes.

Ice-covered the windowpane along the metal diamonds embedded in the glass, the fire had turned to embers during the night leaving the hot coals and chard logs, only giving off a small amount of heat. Sighing, I wrapped myself up in the blankets to stop the cold seeping in, turning my face into the pillows.
The clock had just passed seven-thirty. Try-outs where at ten which gave me three hours to curl up and hope it warms up or starts Professor Binn's essay. Pursing my lips, I groaned as my morals kicked in – kicking off the duvet from my legs, I stubbed in the direction of the shower, picking up my underwear, white quidditch trousers and oversized black knitted jumper that fell off my right shoulder.

The instant hot water shocked me awake as peach and apple shower gel and shampoo washed away the smell of sleep that still lingered on my skin.  I changed in the bathroom, cracking open the window to let the steam out as I brushed my teeth and left the door open when I left, to show no one was using the toilet.
At the bottom of my fourposter bed, I picked up my bag and looped it on my shoulder and slipped on my quidditch boots. Under the bed, I spotted a familiar rope monkey that was flat on its front with the arms and legs spread out like a starfish. Picking it up, I rest the Monkey were it usually belongs, in the grasps of Drizella – for a second, I watched as the five-year-old dog moved in her sleep then quietly open and closed the heavy oak door.

The cold stone from the steps seeped into my socks as hurried down the stairs quickly then proceeded to jump the last step on to the blue plush rugs. Tiptoeing passed the sixth years who had passed out, one still holding a fire whisky bottle in one hand with a thick line of drool down his cheek, the other two had curled up together in front of the burning blue fire. I ran up to the balcony dropping my bag against the table leg, pulling out the wad of parchment paper and thousand-page textbooks.

The oil lamps created a workable light from the ceiling, the flames flickering when the air blew in from the open windows. Surrounded by textbooks, class notes and rogue pieces of paper that all secretly held the answers to the essay. One hour in, I had a plan on what had to be written and I had underlined all the information that I would need later on. I massaged my shoulder as I skim read everything and formed academic sentences out of my babble.

"Cellie!" Roger's voice sang up from under the balcony.
Peering over the dark wood bannister, my lips pulled into a straight smile," What's up?"
"You ready to beat some people up?" Jack asked with a smirk, one of his hands resting on his broomstick the other holding his beaters bat over his shoulder.
I smiled to myself as I rolled my eyes at Jack's smirking face, piling my papers up neatly," Yeah one sec!"

Sliding all the papers horizontally into my bag, I sat on the bannister and slid down to the bottom landing on my right foot then moved on to my left in a quick walk to balance myself. Drizella belted down the stairs that lead from the dorms, tumbling under her feet near the bottom before standing on her feet again. Looking a little dazed, she shook her head and kept close to me as we exited the common room.
Cho was at the back of the group as we headed to try-outs, dressed in her quidditch robes but her eyes where puffy. I gave her a sad smile. What else could I do? She lost someone she loved; Lisa's death made the house greave similar to Cedric's death to Hufflepuff, but Cho's grief is nothing like that. She lost a loved one and nothing can replace the gap that leaves.