“Ginny! You’re drooling,” Demelza giggled.
She tightened her grip on her broom and tore her eyes away from Harry, who was commandeering a clumsy group of first years who had probably never flown a day in their lives. “I am not,” she said brusquely, “just scouting his body language, is all.”
“He’s not bad looking,” Dee qualified. “You like his captain’s badge, do you?”
“Shut up,” Ginny groaned. She gestured at the first years. “How’d they get in, anyways? First years can’t play.”
“Dunno why you’re so worked up. He’s bound to pick you,” said Dee offhandedly. “He practically lives with you, doesn’t he?”
“I don’t want him to put me on the team cause he’s friends with my brother,” she grumbled, “I want him to put me on the team because I’m bloody good at quidditch.”
Dee patted her knee. “That’s very noble of you, Gin.”
Ginny huffed. A second group had taken to the pitch – a gaggle of third and fourth year girls, giggling and falling over themselves. Ginny spotted Romilda Vane immediately.
“Oh, god,” she moaned.
“What?” said Dee.
“It’s Romilda,” she said coldly. Romilda was not well-liked amongst Ginny’s dorm mates. They often heard her through the floorboards, in the fourth-year dormitory below – giggling loudly at all hours of the night. “No way she can fly a broom.”
Harry had his back to her – Ginny couldn’t see his face, but she could see the way Romilda looked at him, eyes wide and falsely bashful, batting her lashes. Her hair wasn’t even tied back. It cascaded in long, dark curls down her back. She kept on tucking pieces behind her ear in a manner that could only be described as seductive.
“She needs to put her hair up,” Ginny muttered, “that’s a hazard, she's obviously never flown before. At least not well.”
Dee blinked at her. Their grudge against Romilda had always been quiet and unspoken. None of them, especially not Ginny, had ever been outwardly venomous.
It seemed to click instantly, though, exactly what they were up against. Dee crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, who does she think she is?” she said.
“Harry, I’m so sorry –” Romilda’s high-pitched voice carried across the pitch, and Ginny cringed inwardly – “could you help me mount the broom?”
Something deep inside her chest threatened to rear its ugly head. “Oh, that bitch.”
Beside her, Dee dissolved into poorly concealed laughter.
Harry refused to help Romilda mount her broom. “It’s expected you know the basics of flying before you come to a try out,” she heard him say.
Romilda and the other girls did not last long. They just as soon got their brooms off the ground as they collapsed into a giant squealing heap. Harry told them to get off the pitch – the girls obeyed, clambering up into the stands to watch the rest of tryouts.
“He’s very authoritative,” Ginny observed. Dee smirked at her.
And she really needn’t have worried about her own try out – she easily out flew the rest of the contenders for chasers, and sank seventeen goals before Harry blew his whistle.
The chasers landed in a semi-circle around him, chests heaving from the effort as he announced that he had made his decision. Ginny hardly felt winded.
“Alright. Er – you all did very well –” Harry met her eyes for a split second before lowering his head. “But obviously I can only choose three...”
Ginny felt her heart sink. Was this his indirect way of letting her off easy?
“Katie Bell – we’ll keep you, obviously.” Ginny saw Katie grin with pride. She felt a surge of dislike toward her, though she couldn’t identify the source – Katie had never been anything but kind to her. “And next… Demelza Robins.”
Dee let out an involuntary squeal of excitement, and squeezed Ginny’s hand. It was with great effort that Ginny returned the gesture. If Dee made the team and she didn’t, she’d have to seriously consider dropping out of school altogether.
Harry was very pointedly avoiding looking at her. Ginny’s heart sank. She thought she might throw up right here on the pitch – so she really hadn’t made it.
Her disappointment was swiftly replaced with anger. How dare Harry not choose her? She’d filled in for him all last year – proven herself, again and again –
“And, er, Ginny Weasley,” said Harry.
Everyone else let out soft sighs of displeasure. Ginny felt strangely lightheaded. “But like I said, you all did quite well, there’s always next year…”
“Yeah, right,” said a girl Ginny recognized as one of the seventh years. She crossed her arms and stormed off toward the changing rooms.
Harry watched her go, then clapped his hands together. “Good work today, everyone. Katie, Demelza, Ginny – I’ll see you all at practice. I’ve got to go find some beaters, now.”
Dee grinned at her sideways.
Ginny’s eyes were locked on Harry. He was turning to leave, to head back toward the group of potential beaters. He caught her eyes for a fleeting moment, just long enough to give her a small smile.
Something warm spread down to Ginny’s toes. She smiled back.