Quidditch Tryouts
Regulus’ POV
Quidditch tryouts had finally rolled around, only three weeks after school started, and Regulus was heading out to practice the morning of since he wouldn’t be able to later in the day. What he didn’t expect was to see James Potter whizzing about the pitch.
He hadn’t striked him as a morning person, and as he walked onto the grass, he just seemed to stare at the boy on his broom. The wind swept through his hair and pushed it back in a way that made Regulus want to laugh, although he couldn’t.
He could pinpoint the moment Potter saw him because of the sudden, jerky movements of his broom. The Gryffindor slowed down and began to descend to where Regulus stood.
“Potter,” he greeted when the boy hit the ground.
“Nice to see you too, Reg,” Potter nodded, still catching his breath. “What are you doing here so early?”
“Well I was going to practice,” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest.
“Why not practice together?” James brushed a hand through his hair, replacing his glasses as he had taken them off before playing.
“And why would I practice with you?” Regulus raised a brow, “I can’t be giving away my tactics, now, can I?”
“Would you not gain mine in turn?” Potter pouted, using something of a mock tone with Regulus, trying to match his posh accent.
Regulus just scoffed and pushed past the boy, “I’d rather not be seen helping you, Potter.” He grumbled from behind him, muttering about him being a pretentious prick. Regulus turned to watch Potter leave the pitch.
Before the boy was out of sight, he gave Regulus a small salute with a smile to match, and spun back around towards the castle.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-
Regulus sat on the soft green lawn of the quidditch pitch as first years continued to fall off their brooms. Every year there would be a few kids who thought they could make the team, and every year they failed. He hadn’t been stupid enough to make that mistake and had joined the team in his fourth year.
Some kid ran past him, crying after falling from a few feet in the air. He rolled his eyes at them, knowing they’d probably only watched the sport, and clearly didn’t have the guts to play it.
“Black!” Avery shouted at him from across the pitch. Avery had been appointed team captain that year and was the one holding tryouts.
“Avery,” his expression unchanging as he strode towards the boy.
“You don’t need to be here,” he spoke quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. “I trust that you’re skills haven’t diminished.”
“I enjoy watching the first years,” he gave Avery a practiced smile.
Avery rolled his eyes at Regulus, “Whatever, just don’t get in my way.” There was no venom to his words, despite the look he gave Regulus.
He nodded and went back to his spot on the lawn. Before he could sit down, however, one of the first years walked up to him.
“Excuse me,” they looked up at him with less confidence than they had while playing earlier, “Uhm, aren’t you the seeker?”
Regulus raised a brow at the eleven year old, “No, I’m the hider.” A smirk worked its way onto his face as he watched the kid really think about it, mouth hanging slightly open. “I’m kidding.”
“Oh, haha,” the young Slytherin twirled one of his feet about the ground, twisting it into the grass. “I was just wondering, how do you find the snitch? It’s my favorite position, and, well, I’ve never played anything other than a beater, so…” he stumbled over a few words, trailing off quietly at the end.
Regulus thought about it for a moment, genuinely wondering whether he should or not. It would be good to make sure the team would have an adequate seeker when he left, so maybe he could teach the boy how he played. He inhaled deeply, and began to explain the way he preferred to play.
The boy attentively listened, nodding every once in a while. When they had to leave the pitch to allow the Ravenclaws to hold tryouts, he left the boy with his name. Regulus officially had an apprentice of sorts, which seemed almost odd to have for quidditch, but fun nonetheless.