Never Is Our Always

Quidditch Practice 5

(Minnie pov)

"OK, everyone," Angelina said, entering from the Captain's office, already changed. "Let's get to it; Alicia and Fred, if you can just bring out the ball crate for us. Oh, and there are a couple of people out there watching but I want you to just ignore them, all right?"

Something in her would-be casual voice made me think I might know who the uninvited spectators were, and sure enough, when they left the changing room for the bright sunlight of the pitch it was to a storm of catcalls and jeers from the Slytherin Quidditch team and assorted hangers-on, who were grouped halfway up the empty stands and whose voices echoed loudly around the stadium.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" Malfoy called in his sneering drawl. "Why would anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?"

Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy guffawed and shrieked with laughter. Ron mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground and Harry followed him.

"Min, get your broom," I nod as I take my broom and kicked off into the air.

"We'll see who's laughing after we play them..."

"Exactly the attitude I want, Harry," Angelina said approvingly soaring around them with the Quaffle under her arm and slowing to hover on the spot in front of her airborne team.

Angelina nods to me, tossing me the quaffle, "OK, everyone, we're going to start with some passes just to warm up, the whole team please-"

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle, anyway?" Pansy shrieked from below. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

Angelina swept her long braided hair out of her face and continued calmly, "Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do..."

Harry reversed away from the others to the far side of the pitch. Ron fell back towards the opposite goal.

Angelina raised her hands and I tossed the Quaffle back to her, with one hand, Angelina raised the Quaffle and threw it hard to Fred, who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed to Ron, who dropped it.

The Slytherins, led by Malfoy, roared and screamed with laughter. Ron, who had pelted towards the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to playing height, blushing.

I saw Fred and George exchange looks, but uncharacteristically neither of them said anything, for which I was grateful.

"Pass it on, Ron," Angelina said, as though nothing had happened.

Ron threw the Quaffle to Alicia, who passed back to Harry, who passed to George...

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" Malfoy called. "Sure you don't need a lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?"

George passed to Angelina; she reverse-passed to Harry, who had not been expecting it, but caught it in the very tips of his fingers and passed it quickly to Ron, who lunged for it and missed by inches.

"Come on now, Ron," I said crossly, as he dived for the ground again, chasing the Quaffle. "Pay attention."

It would have been hard to say whether Ron's face or the Quaffle was a deeper scarlet when he again returned to playing height. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team were howling with laughter.

On his third attempt, Ron caught the Quaffle; perhaps out of relief he passed it on so enthusiastically that it soared straight though Katie's outstretched hands and hit her hard in the face.