Chapter 4
Rose walked through the corridors with her head down for the rest of the week, ignoring the smirks and whispers that followed her like mosquitoes. The gossip had cooled somewhat, and nobody engaged her directly since Julian Babcock had told anyone who would listen about his ordeal with flying bogeys. But stares and cocked eyebrows still met Rose in the corridors and it seemed several of her classmates couldn't look at her without giggling. Rose did her best to ignore it, telling herself that even if most of the school thought she had done disgusting things with Gabriel Herrick in a broom cupboard, at least they feared her hexing abilities.
Monday morning found the Ravenclaw fifth years sitting at breakfast, with the last of the owls just flying away.
"Say, Rose," Maren said from beside her, half a muffin in her hand. "Did you see the notice board in the common room when we walked down?"
"Hm?" Rose asked, twisting a piece of hair around her finger as she leafed through the pages of Anna Karenina.
"The board," Maren repeated. "Winkle finally put a notice up. Trials are this weekend."
Rose bit her lip and turned the page. "Oh."
"What?" Maren set her muffin down and peered at her. "You don't have patrols then, do you?"
"Er, no," Rose mumbled. "I don't think so."
"Good," Maren exhaled, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. "Henry'd go spare if you missed. Have you thought about what drills you want to practice this week? I reckon we can go down to the pitch tonight since we won't have any potions or transfiguration homework due tomorrow. Does that work for you, Scorpius?"
"I think so," Scorpius nodded from across the table.
"Right," Maren looked back at Rose. "So you can come then and we'll all—"
"I don't know if I'll go," Rose broke in, looking up from her book at last.
"You have to practice, Rose." Maren rolled her eyes. "Even you're not good enough to just show up at trials without practicing and expect-"
"No," Rose shook her head. "I—er—I don't know if I'll go to trials."
Nobody said anything. Maren's eyes went wide; Allie looked up from her plate and cocked her head to the side, brown eyes crinkling at the corner as she surveyed Rose. Scorpius looked down at his plate. Lucy glanced up from her transfiguration book and then swiftly looked away. Rose snatched a piece of toast from a nearby plate and shoved half of it in her mouth, waiting for someone else to say something.
She didn't have to wait long.
"What do you mean you don't want to go to trials?" Maren burst out, turning so abruptly she upset a jug of pumpkin juice.
Rose swallowed and shrugged, watching the juice trail toward the edge of the table and pool there. "I don't want to. I don't know if I can do it. I mean-" she looked up and bit her lip.
"You're our keeper! You have to be there!"
"I don't have to—"
"Rose," Allie broke in, "is this about Herrick?"
"I—" Rose opened and closed her mouth before finally crying out, "he'll be there! He will be, and so will everyone—"
"You can't let him get to you like that," Allie murmured, looking over her shoulder before leaning closer. "All his stories are a load of dung and everyone knows it. And you love quidditch! You can't—"
"I don't fancy being surrounded by people who think I'm a slag!" Rose hissed, hunching forward and rubbing her face. Her eyes stung. "I just—I can't do it-"
"Nobody thinks that—"
"You don't know that! They're not talking about me anymore but people still think I—we—did—you know—"
"But it's over now," Maren said, her eyebrows knitting together.
"No it's not," Rose whispered. "People still stare—"
"They always stare."
"Well it's different. I can feel it."
"Well then let them stare if they like and go on with your life." Maren put an arm on her shoulder and raised her eyebrows. "If anyone says anything to you on the pitch just knock them off their broom."
"But it won't-if he's there every day-" Rose mumbled. She looked up and met Maren's eyes, her lips trembling. "I don't want to be on a team with him. And you know he'd be awful—"
"Tell Henry," Maren said.
"What good would that do?" Rose's shoulders slumped and she picked at her thumb nail. "He thinks it's true and if I go to him now and say it's not true he'll just think I'm embarrassed and that's why I'm denying it. That's what everyone else thinks."
"Katrina doesn't think that."
"She's different. And anyways, what can Henry do?" Rose put her head in her hands. "I can't ask him to not give Herrick his spot just because he's a prick."
Maren frowned. "I don't see why not."
"He's the captain, he can't be involved in everyone's problems. And he can't let those things change who's on the team."
"He can if one of the team members is a walking sack of shit."
"I just-" Rose paused and drew breath, shaking her head. "I can't ask him that. And Herrick would probably just make up another rumor when people asked why he was kicked off. Probably say we shagged in the locker room or something—"
"Come off it," Maren stared at her. "So you're just going to quit?"
"I'm not quitting!" Rose cried, tugging at the end of her hair. "It's just a—a break—"
"But you love quidditch," Allie murmured.
"He'll ruin it," Rose replied.
"Well," Allie said slowly, picking at one of her nails. "Just think about it. If you don't want to do it that's understandable. But just—be sure."
"You're certain you can't just talk to Winkle?" Maren asked. "I'm sure he'd—"
"No." Rose shook her head. She looked around the table and then picked up her bag. "And I think it's nearly time for class. We should go."
Maren hesitated, picking up her glass of pumpkin juice and putting it down without taking a sip. She shook her head slightly before picking up her bag and facing Rose.
"You really don't want to—"
"We should go to class," Rose repeated, fiddling with the strap of her bag. "I don't want to be late. It'd look bad for a prefect to have two detentions in the first week, yeah?"
"Of course," Allie said, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin and standing up. "Thank you for those runes books, by the way, they were lifesavers."
"Not a problem." Rose gave a small smile, turning away from the table as Lucy and Scorpius rose silently. "I can show you where most of the runes books are in the library, if you'd like."
"Oh, that'd be wonderful," Allie chirped. "You know, I think if I could just read everything myself outside of class I'd get it much better than I do now."
Rose led the group across the Great Hall, her eyes staying straight ahead of her. She nodded at Allie's words. "That makes sense. It helps to go over everything after class ends. Helps it stick in your head."
They reached the oak doors of the Great Hall. Rose reached for the handle and looked up, pausing for a moment as she saw Mirabelle Crouse leaning against the wall. The older girl glanced at Rose, her eyes swiftly examining her, appraising her, judging; they stayed on Rose's face a fraction of a second longer than was normal as the corners of her mouth curled up. Rose dropped her eyes to her shoes, cheeks burning as she pushed through the doors and into the corridor.
***
The week crawled by. Rose forced herself to concentrate only on her own routine: classes, meals, homework, bed. The stares diminished somewhat as people found other things to be distracted by and on Thursday they stopped entirely as the entire school buzzed over a story of two slytherin seventh years who had been caught snogging in Professor Lyncroft's office.
"I feel rather sorry for them," Allie murmured that night in the library, applying glistening potion to her lips and scrutinizing the effect in the reflection of her potion scales. "I mean, it's awfully embarrassing. And Johanna said she was on patrol when it happened and Professor Lyncroft really lit into them."
"I dunno," Rose muttered, shrugging as she scrawled another line of her transfiguration essay. "I'm just glad nobody's talking about me anymore."
"People stopped talking about you ages ago," Maren said from beside Rose. She turned and raised her eyebrows. "Why, has somebody said something?"
"No," Rose shook her head. "It just always seems like—"
"The rest of the school won't move on if you don't, Rose," Allie said gently, placing a hand on Rose's forearm. "If you act like it's done then everyone else will follow."
"I've been acting as though it's done!"
"I know, you've been lovely, considering everything." Allie tucked her scales back in her bag and turned to the open charms textbook in front of her.
"Ugh," Rose groaned and ran a hand through her hair. "I just wish I didn't have to see Amalia and Mirabelle everywhere. I still feel as though they're always staring at me-"
Maren shook her head. "What do you care what those two cows think of you?"
"Maren!" Allie cried. "Don't be rude."
"Don't be rude?" Maren demanded. "Allie, did you not hear what they said—"
"Just because they acted like banshees doesn't mean you have to stoop to their level."
"Fine," Maren huffed, turning back to her arithmancy. "But the next person who says something about you is getting hexed," she said to Rose.
"Excellent." Rose scratched out the last sentence of her essay and sighed as she laid her quill down. "Is there any chance one of you wants to do my patrols for me tonight?"
"Nope," Maren said, popping the 'p.'
"Wouldn't that be against the rules?" Allie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I dunno," Rose shrugged. "I don't think anyone would really notice."
"You could go find Lucy and ask her," Allie said. "She'd probably do it."
"No she wouldn't," Rose muttered, picking up her quill and twirling it. "She'd just bite my head off about my duties and how I'm obviously neglecting them."
"And anyways, she's probably snogging Nathan right now and I don't think anyone wants to see that," Maren said sagely.
"Blech." Rose mimed vomiting. "I definitely don't want to see that."
"Don't say it like that," Allie said reproachfully. "Lucy and Nathan can snog as much as they like."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to be aware of it."
"We were all aware of the fact you and Theo were snogging last year."
"But you weren't friends with him, so it really doesn't compare." Rose sniffed and turned her nose up in the air. "It's one thing to know your cousin's snogging someone but another thing entirely to know she's snogging your friend—"
"I really don't think-"
"It's just not something I'd like to think about." Rose shook her head and glanced up at the clock. "Oh, bugger," she muttered. "I'd better leave for patrols. Wouldn't want to leave Malfoy waiting, now would I?"
"Don't be unpleasant," Allie chirped without looking up from her charms textbook.
"I'm never unpleasant," Rose replied, flicking loose curls over her shoulder as she shoved her books and parchment into her bag. She stood and brushed off her skirt before slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'm always perfectly cordial."
"Right," Maren snorted, shaking her head at her parchment. "Be cordial, then. And mind you don't interrupt Lucy and Nathan snogging in a broom cupboard."
"Gross," Rose called over her shoulder as she trotted toward the library door.
She arrived at the fourth floor corridor two minutes after their patrol was scheduled to start.
"Sorry," she said brusquely to Scorpius, rummaging in her bag for her badge. She found it nestled between an inkpot and her transfiguration textbook. She tugged it free and pinned it to her robes. It was slightly crooked but that didn't matter, Rose reasoned. All that mattered was that the badge was visible so if they had to stop anyone or dock points she was identifiable as a prefect.
"Are you ready?"
She looked up, her hands dropping to her sides. Scorpius stood halfway down the corridor, watching her with raised eyebrows. Rose pursed her lips and hitched her bag higher up her shoulder.
"Yes," she bit out.
"Good," Scorpius replied, turning to look at his watch. "It's five past."
"Sorry for the inconvenience," Rose murmured with as much civility as she could muster. She made her way down the corridor with slow, measured steps, in no hurry to reach him. Scorpius remained absorbed in his watch, his left hand dropping down to his side. He began tapping his index finger against his thigh.
Rose ground her teeth as she came to a stop beside him. He continued tapping. She crossed her arms, tapping her foot. Without a word, Scorpius began walking down the corridor. Rose huffed and tripped after him.
The fourth floor seemed deserted. Even the picture frames hung empty, their occupants having gone to visit friends in other, more interesting corners of the castle. Rose chewed the inside of her cheek as her eyes slid over the wall decor. An abandoned portrait backdrop showed a desert with a rather lopsided elephant meandering across the plains; a bust of Frederic the Fearless sniffled and then sneezed.
She always forgot that the castle was more than just a building; it was alive. They turned the corner and Rose grinned as the suits of armor snapped to their rigid posture. She wondered what they did in the dead of night when there were no students or teachers about.
The thought struck Rose that Hogwarts teemed with life even during the day, she just never noticed. Really, if she looked around, it seemed that everything was animated. Three monks snored in their frame, their half-filled wine glasses perpetually in danger of spilling. The tapestry of the Nottingham Goblin Rebellion of 1642 fluttered and giggled.
"Wait," Rose mumbled, turning back toward the tapestry. Goblins didn't giggle; and if they did, their giggles certainly weren't that high pitched. Scorpius paused as Rose stepped closer to the tapestry, which she now saw was concealing two figures. Rose took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She was a prefect, she reminded herself, glancing down at her badge. This was what she was meant to do on patrols, make sure that nobody was snogging behind tapestries of goblin rebellions. She moved closer so she was directly in front of the tapestry.
"Er," she stammered, "I mean, ahem." She cleared her throat. "If you're—whoever's there—"
The tapestry shifted suddenly. Rose had barely registered that Scorpius had appeared beside her and pushed the hanging to the side when her gaze fell on the couple who stood red-faced and frozen behind it.
"Fred?" she sputtered, taking a step back.
"Er, hey there, Rosie," Fred said, looking down at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck, which had flamed a brilliant scarlet. "I take it you're on patrol tonight?"
"Er—"
"Well," Fred continued, half to himself, "I guess I should've checked." He turned suddenly to the girl whose waist his arm still wrapped around. "Er, sorry, Amalia, have you met my cousin Rose before?"
Amalia Villanueva, her face tinged faintly pink but otherwise betraying no sign of embarrassment, raised an eyebrow. Her dark eyes swept over Rose as she brushed a piece of hair off her face. "Ah, no, I don't think so."
Rose opened and closed her mouth, rocking from her heels to her toes as she looked between the two. "I—"
"We'll have to dock you points," Scorpius's voice rang out. Rose jumped and glanced over her shoulder at him.
"Er, yeah," she nodded, letting out a breath and motioning toward Scorpius. "What he said. Sorry, you know I wouldn't-"
"But it's the rule," Scorpius said evenly.
"Of course," Fred said with a sheepish smile. "Wouldn't want Rosie neglecting her prefect duties for me."
"Especially when it sounds like she takes rules very seriously," Amalia added, her eyes meeting Rose's and the corner of her mouth quirking up. Rose frowned and looked away.
"So that's ten points each from Gryffindor," Scorpius said, "for being out of the common room and engaging in—er—non-academic activities in the corridor."
"Just say snogging, mate," Fred muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Scorpius raised his eyebrows but otherwise didn't respond.
"Right," Rose said hurriedly, her face growing steadily warmer as she crossed and uncrossed her arms, trying to find a posture that felt both natural and authoritative. "And, er, you should really get back to your common room." Her index finger hooked around a lock of hair and began to twist.
Fred nodded, squeezing Amalia with the hand still planted firmly on her waist. "Sure, Rosie." With his other hand he ruffled his hair again and cleared his throat. "And I-er-sorry you had to see that-"
"It's fine," Rose mumbled to the floor. She let go of the piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear as she bit down on the inside of her cheek. "You really should get back to your common room, though. If we run into you again we have to take twice as many points."
"We don't want that," Fred said with a half-hearted laugh. "I don't want you telling my mum at Christmas about how I cost Gryffindor the house cup."
Rose made a noise somewhere between a cough and a laugh and shrugged. "Just don't let me find you snogging behind a tapestry again."
"Right. Next time we'll make sure to be in a nice, secure broom cupboard."
"Fred," Rose groaned.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I'm just joking," he said hastily, putting a hand up in surrender. "I will check the prefect schedule and never snog on your patrol again. Is that good enough?"
Rose made a noncommittal noise.
"Wonderful," Fred replied, turning back to Amalia. "So then I suppose we'll be off. Ready, Lia?"
"Mhm," Amalia murmured, turning once more toward Rose. "Lovely to meet you, Rosie."
"It's Rose, please."
Amalia raised an eyebrow. "Of course," she said with an infinitesimal smile. "Nice to meet you, Rose."
"You too."
The two gryffindors loped off down the corridor, Fred's hand still on Amalia's waist. Rose rolled her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief when they turned the corner. "That was bloody awful," she said to herself.
"It was rather uncomfortable."
Rose had forgotten Scorpius was there and turned toward him, her face heating up again. "Er—sorry—"
"Don't worry," he shrugged, beginning to walk down the corridor again.
Rose hurried to keep up with him, twisting the piece of hair around her finger. Her shoulders relaxed slightly as they rounded the corner. "Thank you," she said suddenly, turning to face Scorpius. "For taking the points, I mean. I don't know if—you know—I would've. Not that I don't enforce rules. Or, you know, don't care about the duties, but—er—Fred-"
"He's your cousin," Scorpius said with a small nod.
"Right." Rose peered at him for a moment. His eyes were trained ahead, mouth set in a line that wasn't unfriendly, but not relaxed. The silver badge was poised precisely on his chest and his arms hung at his sides so that his fingertips barely grazed the fabric of his trousers.
"I wouldn't expect you to take points from him."
Rose clamped her jaw tightly and bit down on the inside of her cheek until it stung, trying to squash the unkind remarks that jumped to her lips.
"I think I would have the same trouble with Nathan," Scorpius added after a moment. "It's rather difficult to take points from people you're so close to."
"Oh," Rose stammered, releasing her cheek and glancing at him. She dropped her hands to her sides and bit her lip. "Yeah, it is."
They continued walking in silence. Rose massaged the inside of her cheek with her tongue as best she could, taking comfort in the fact she hadn't drawn blood. She really oughtn't have bitten down as hard as she did.
Scorpius walked quietly beside her. Somehow even his footsteps were soft; barely a sound came from his footfalls while echoes of Rose's chased them down the corridor. Rose peeked at him again out of the corner of her eye and tugged on the ends of her hair.
"Er," she stuttered. "I never said thank you for what you said—last week."
He turned marginally toward her, eyebrows drawn together.
"In the common room," Rose elaborated, quickly cursing herself for bringing the subject up at all. She could feel her flush returning; her face undoubtedly was scarlet at the moment as she rambled on, determined to finish the thought now that she had started it. "Last week. At night. I was—was crying and—you know—well—not—not having a good time of it—and you said nobody believed any of the rumors-and that you know—"
He nodded without looking at her, his eyes turning toward the floor as he kept walking. His hands meandered into his pockets. "It's true."
"Well," Rose faltered, chewing on her lip and wishing she could evaporate on the spot. "Well, it was nice. And I needed to hear it. So thank you."
Scorpius nodded again and said nothing. They walked silently to the end of the corridor and turned the corner. Rose began counting her paces, wondering how many steps she could take between now and the end of patrol. One. Two. Three. Four.
"Are you really not going to quidditch trials?"
Rose turned to look at him, eyebrows shooting up and paces forgotten. "What?"
Scorpius leaned away slightly, as though afraid she was going to hex him. "I didn't mean to pry," he said. "I just heard you talking a few days ago. Are you really not going to trials?"
"I—er—I don't know." Rose picked at her thumbnail and dropped her gaze. "I don't know yet."
He turned away, his hands coming out of his pockets to rest at his sides. "Oh." His fingers began tapping.
The rest of the patrol passed without event. Rose counted six hundred and seventy eight steps in that time (though she thought she missed a few in the four hundreds when she had gotten distracted imagining Mr. Darcy arriving at Hogwarts and sweeping her off her feet). When Scorpius checked his watch and announced they were done, Rose let out a breath and hitched her bag up.
"I'll go to the Heads' office and fill out the report," she said. "Seeing as you've done it the last two times."
"Okay." Scorpius glanced at her. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"No," Rose shook her head quickly. "Er, I mean, that's alright. It's not that difficult."
"Okay," he nodded slowly and turned. "Have a good night then."
Rose's forehead creased as she looked up. Scorpius was already walking away, his back to her. She bit her lip and then murmured, unsure if it was loud enough for him to hear, "Goodnight."
***
The week wore on and Rose began to hold her head higher as she walked down the corridors. It seemed that most of the gossip had truly dissipated, with the only unpleasantries now coming in the form of Herrick himself. He still smirked whenever he passed Rose in the common room or the Great Hall, and she could always feel her face flame up in his presence. But even those encounters seemed to dwindle as the days passed.
Friday night found Rose in the common room with Allie working to finish a runes translation before the weekend. They sat at a small table in the corner, shoved against one of the windows overlooking the quidditch pitch. Allie had a massive dictionary of hieroglyphics open on top of her parchment and was perusing the entries with a highly polished pink fingernail whilst Rose searched through one of her library books for a way to correctly interpret and translate what appeared to be a rune set in both the future and the past. Other Ravenclaws sat around them, some working as they were and others playing either gobstones or chess or reading or chatting about the upcoming weekend.
Rose looked up from her book for the umpteenth time and glanced out the window, drumming her fingers against the table as she watched three indistinct figures flying laps around the pitch.
"Alright," Allie murmured, looking up from the dictionary, "I think the second rune of number four means an abandoned cauldron, but you might want to double check that."
"Hm?" Rose turned toward her friend. "Sorry, I got distracted."
Allie seemed unfazed by this and evenly replied, "The second rune of number four, the one we didn't know, I think it means an abandoned cauldron."
"Oh." Rose furrowed her brow and shoved her book to the side to look at the translation. "Yes, I suppose that would make sense. It looks like it's talking about an old poison."
"Good." Allie scribbled something on her parchment and went back to the dictionary. "Which rune should I look up next?"
"Er," Rose scanned the page. "The second to last one, right after the one meaning student. I think we know the rest of these enough to come up with a translation."
"Just give me one moment," Allie said, flipping through the dictionary pages.
Rose smiled and turned back to the window. The figures floated in front of the goal hoops. One of them appeared to have a quaffle, juggling it in their hands. Rose sighed and turned back to the translation. "Let's see," she muttered, scanning the runes and waggling the quill between her fingers. "Yes, okay, I think I have the first part of it. Once we look up that other rune we'll have the rest."
"Excellent," Allie chirped, flipping another page.
Rose glanced out the window again. The three players had dispersed, with one meandering up to the hoops and the other two flying to different sides of the pitch. With some unknown cue, the scrimmage began as the two suddenly bolted toward the hoops. The one holding the quaffle dove low, zigzagging down the pitch. Their opponent stayed high, circling like a hawk. The keeper, Rose noted, kept drifting in front of the right hoop and staring down at the flyer with the quaffle.
"I think I found it," Allie muttered.
"Good," Rose said absently, watching as the player with the quaffle shot up only to be overtaken by their opponent. She gasped as the other took the quaffle and with barely a second glance threw it toward the left hoop. The keeper scrambled and shot to the side, arms outstretched, but was too late. The quaffle soared through the goal hoop.
"Rose?" Allie said, leaning across the table and prodding her gently in the shoulder. "Do you have the translation, then?"
"Er, what?" Rose shook her head and gave her friend a sheepish smile. "Oh, er, no, sorry, I didn't hear you. What did that rune mean?"
"It means either an unsuccessful antidote or a hidden poison depending on the context," Allie answered, her gaze sliding toward the window. "How are those people on the pitch doing?"
"The keeper needs to stop staring at the chasers," Rose said. "They didn't even notice that they'd drifted all the way over to the right." She glanced up to find Allie smiling. "What?" she frowned, pulling her translation forward.
"Nothing," Allie said with a shrug and aggravating grin. "You just seemed very invested in it."
Rose grunted. "I just wanted to watch them play." She took out her quill and skimmed the half-completed translation before leaning down and scribbling. "Now, I think we've got this one. It seems like it's a student who poisoned their teacher by purposely brewing an incorrect antidote."
"That's morbid," Allie said, taking out her own quill and raising an eyebrow. "Why can't we have nice translations? It seems like they're always about death and pain."
Rose shrugged. "Maybe that's what people really wanted to write about."
"Well," Allie sniffed, "I'm sure they could've written about nice things as well. Not everything has to be dark and gloomy."
"Why don't you go and write nice things in ancient runes then?"
"I think I might." Allie tossed her hair over her shoulder and examined her nails. "It'd make the class much more interesting too."
Rose rolled her eyes. "Things can still be interesting even if they're not nice."
"I don't see why they can't be both," Allie said crisply. She perked up at something behind Rose, straightening in her chair and cocking her head to the side. "Hello, Henry."
Rose turned to see Henry Winkle approaching, a large stack of books in his hands. The top one, Rose saw, was 806 Legal Loopholes Every Beater Should Know.
"Hey, Boot," Henry said with a jerky wave, leaning to the side so as not to drop the books. "Hey, Rose," he nodded.
"Hi," Rose said coolly, setting her quill down and raising her eyebrows.
Henry shifted his weight between his legs, looking decidedly unsure of himself. Rose, in no mood to help him, sat silently and twirled a piece of hair. "I wanted to apologize," Henry said at last, looking up from his books and directly at Rose. "For the way I accosted you at dinner last week and for assuming all those rumors were true and for not listening to you. I was a right prat."
"You were," Rose nodded. She dropped the lock of hair and tucked it behind her ear as she chewed the inside of her cheek.
"And, well, yeah," Henry nodded, "I'm sorry for that."
"It's okay," Rose said. "I reckon you were pretty decent about it compared to everyone else."
"But still," Henry grimaced, "I know those stories weren't true."
"Well, thank you for that," Rose said slowly. She met Henry's eyes and gave him a small smile. "Really, that does mean a lot."
"I'm glad we got that straightened out," Henry responded. He shifted the pile of books to one arm and stuck the other out toward her. "So we're alright?"
"I suppose," Rose shrugged and shook his offered hand.
"Glad to hear it," Henry said. When Rose let go of his hand he shifted the books again, putting both palms under the stack. "And," he continued, narrowing his eyes, "I heard some nonsense that you aren't going to trials this year."
"Oh," Rose muttered, looking down at her feet. "Yeah, well—"
"Do whatever you want, Weasley," Henry said with the contrived air of authority he generally reserved for pep talks, "but just know that I will levitate you out of your dormitory window tomorrow morning if you're not on that pitch."
Rose snorted and rolled her eyes. "Noted."
"Glad that's clear," Henry nodded. "The team's just hitting their stride, if you ask me, and having to adjust to a different keeper would ruin everything."
"I'm sure Remington would happily take my place," Rose said with feigned solemnity, fighting to keep her mouth in a straight line as Henry grimaced.
"I'm sure he would," he muttered. "And I'm sure he would be just as happy to moon over DeMarco on the pitch and let in every shot."
Rose let out a giggle. "Give him some more credit, Henry. The bloke's a decent flyer."
"Yeah, well," Henry sighed, "I'd still rather have you in front of the goals. And you work so well with everyone, you understand the strategy of the game." He paused and tightened his jaw. "And I'm not losing a bloody great keeper because Gabriel Herrick's a lying wanker. Replacing Scamander is going to be difficult enough."
"Er, right," Rose faltered, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I—I'll think about it more."
Henry peered at her for a moment before sighing and straightening, readjusting the pile of books one last time. "Alright, fine. But remember," he raised his eyebrows, "I'm not afraid to levitate you out of the damn window."
"Right," Rose laughed. "I suppose we'll see."
Henry nodded and turned to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Weasley," he called over his shoulder.
***
Shrill curtains of wind ushered in Saturday morning, knocking on the windows of the Ravenclaw dormitories and whistling against the castle spires. A particularly savage gust rattled the window panes beside Rose's bed and she rolled onto her stomach, burrowing her face deeper in her pillow.
The wind tore through the window and nudged Rose in the shoulder. "Eurgh," she mumbled, rolling over again so her back was to the window. She tugged the blankets up to her chin. The air tapped her again. Rose groaned and tucked her knees tighter against her chest.
"Weasley!" the wind hissed as it smacked her in the shoulder, harder this time. Rose started and shot up, coming face to face with Maren.
"Wha—"
"Get up," Maren ordered, tearing the blankets away.
"Oy!" Rose cried, curling up into a tighter ball. "It's cold!"
"Get up," Maren repeated, rolling her eyes as she turned to Rose's trunk. "I'll find your things."
"What're we doing?" Rose asked, yawning and brushing hair off her face as she peered around the dormitory. Inky sky peered through the windows. Rose frowned. "The sun's not up yet."
"Nope," Maren murmured, half-hidden in Rose's trunk.
"So why are we up?"
"We have to get down to the pitch," Maren replied, straightening as she pulled out Rose's quidditch robes and keeping gloves. "You need to practice before trials."
"Oh," Rose said dumbly, staring at her bedsheets as her eyelids drooped.
"You're going," Maren said, standing up and throwing the robes and a thick jumper onto Rose's lap. "I don't care if I have to stun you and drag you down to the pitch myself."
Rose inhaled heavily and shook her head, trying to make her eyelids feel a little less heavy. Her fingers fell on the jumper and she smiled. "Henry said he'd just levitate me out the window."
"Good," Maren nodded curtly. "Now put that jumper on."
Rose briefly considered saying no, getting back in bed and not getting out until trials were well over. But no. Everyone had gone through so much trouble, and Maren was holding her keeping gloves, and she had desperately missed flying the past week. So she got to her feet and slowly pulled the jumper over her head. With forced casualty, she mumbled, "What do I do if I see Herrick there?"
"Knock him off his broom," Maren answered without hesitation. "Or transfigure him into a slug."
Rose paused as she tugged on her quidditch robes. "We haven't learned human transfiguration yet."
"Then transfigure his broom into a snake," Maren shrugged.
"Would you two shut up?" Allie murmured from the other side of the room where she lay under a pile of blankets. "I'm trying to sleep."
"Sorry," Rose whispered. She turned back to Maren and began gathering her hair into a ponytail, biting her lip. "You don't think people will laugh at me?"
"Nah," Maren shook her head. "If they do then the entire team'll punch them."
Rose snorted and began lacing up her boots, her fingers struggling with the laces in the dim light. "I don't think Malfoy will punch anyone for me."
"Maybe not," Maren shrugged. "He'd probably keep us all out of detention, though, which is something."
"Good to know he's looking out for me," Rose said dryly. She straightened and brushed off her robes. "I think I'm ready. Let's go before I change my mind."
"Brilliant," Maren beamed, taking her by the arm and trotting toward the door. "And you're not changing your mind. I've already written out the drills we're going to do."
***
Dew gleamed on the quidditch pitch as the two girls approached, draped in the eerie glow of the burgeoning sun. Rose ran her hand down the handle of her beloved broom, smiling as her fingers found each crevice and chink.
"Alright," Maren said, peering down at the scrap of parchment in her hand. "We're starting with three laps around the pitch, first one's warm up, second is build up, and third is all out, as fast you can go."
"Got it, Captain," Rose laughed, straddling her broom and looking over her shoulder. "We flying together?"
"Of course," Maren said, stuffing the parchment in her pocket. "We have to be sure you haven't lost your speed."
"It's only been three weeks," Rose grumbled. "I'm not coming out of retirement."
"Just try to keep up, Weasley," Maren shouted as she kicked off the ground.
"Don't worry," Rose called as she followed suit, rising swiftly into the chilly morning air. "I could outfly you in my sleep."
Three hours later Rose touched down on the pitch, her heart racing and a sheet of cold sweat covering her body. A small crowd had converged at the side of the pitch, hopefuls waiting for trials to begin. Henry Winkle stood at the head, clipboard in hand and wand out, watching as she and Maren descended.
"I was rather looking forward to levitating you," he said when he caught sight of Rose, looking slightly put-out.
"Sorry to disappoint," Rose replied, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder as she joined the group.
"Glad to see you, though," he said, turning back to the clipboard. "Thomas didn't work you too hard, did she? I hope it doesn't affect your flying now."
"We just did some warm up flying and drills," Maren said from beside Rose. "I adapted our pre-match practice."
"Oh," Henry paused. "Right then, brilliant. And it looks like we've a nice turnout today." He looked up and surveyed the group. Rose did the same, the thumping in her chest growing slightly louder. She ran her fingers down the length of her ponytail and tugged at the end, chewing the inside of her cheek as her eyes flickered across the crowd. Her stomach growled and seemed to cave in on itself and she wished that she had thought to eat something.
Katrina DeMarco and Milo Remington stood to the side of Henry; Katrina had an arm wrapped around Milo's waist and was whispering in his ear. Between Katrina and Maren stood Scorpius, who waved to Maren and began talking animatedly about something. The other players stood huddled in small groups of twos and threes. Rose picked out the second years, anxiously clutching their brooms and watching wide-eyed as Henry scribbled away on his clipboard. A few older students stood along the perimeter, arms folded and eyebrows raised. Rose scanned each face before turning to Maren and elbowing her in the side.
"He's not here," Rose whispered, standing on her toes to try and see the path to the castle.
"Who's not here?" Maren furrowed her eyebrows.
"Herrick."
"He's not coming." Henry turned around and caught Rose's eye.
"He's not?"
Henry lowered his clipboard and readjusted the badge on his chest, pushing his shoulders back slightly as he did so. "I told him I don't tolerate behavior like that from my players. A team can't be successful if there's no trust, no matter how good of a seeker they've got."
Rose opened and closed her mouth, feeling slightly off-center. Before she could reply, or do anything more than look at Maren, Henry pointed his wand at his throat and called, "Everybody quiet, please!"
The chatter petered out as the two dozen players turned toward the captain.
"Right," Henry said, looking down at the clipboard. "Before we go any further I just want to remind everybody that if you're here you are trying out for the Ravenclaw house quidditch team. If you are just looking to fly around, or have a scrimmage, or if you're from a different house, go ahead and clear out now and save us all some time."
A pause. Nobody moved.
"Excellent," Henry said, making a note on the clipboard. "So these trials are meant to test flying ability, technical knowledge, and teamwork. We have some positions that need filling but I want to remind everybody," he looked around the assembly, "that for all intents and purposes, every position is open right now. Returning players, just because you've made the team before doesn't mean you're guaranteed a spot. New players, remember that we're looking for good flyers and teammates more than players who are good at a specific position. Even if you don't make the team in your desired role, you can always be added to the reserves if you perform well today. After some initial laps and drills, everybody will split up based on their position and we will go from there. Got it?"
There was a general murmur of assent. Henry nodded.
"Good. Now, one last thing before we begin. A lot of thought goes into these trials and all decisions are final. I will announce positions immediately after tryouts end and any positions that require more thought will be announced Monday morning along with the reserves. If you don't like the decisions or think they're unfair then you're more than welcome to go to Wood with complaints but I doubt he will tell you anything other than to practice more. If we get word that anybody reacts in a way that is deemed unsportsmanlike, their chances of making the team in the future or being brought on as a reserve player are severely lowered. Is that clear?"
A more subdued rumble swept through the crowd. Henry nodded to himself.
"Alright. Let's get flying then, yeah? Everybody on your brooms, please. We'll start with two laps around the pitch. If at any point you can't keep up or have to stop, please make your way back to the castle. On my go. Ready, up!"
Two dozen pairs of feet kicked off. Trials had begun.
Rose flew next to Maren, nudging her broom along gently. They stayed at the front of the pack, flanking Scorpius and a pair of fourth year boys. Henry had drifted to the middle of the pitch where he hovered, still holding the clipboard and making occasional notes.
One of the fourth year boys leaned down and rocketed ahead of his friend, who whooped and laughed. Rose rolled her eyes and shifted to her right, grazing the whooping boy just enough to startle him. He wobbled and turned, eyes wide.
"Sorry," Rose called innocently over her shoulder.
The boy hung in the air for a moment until a second flyer nearly knocked him off his broom. He put both hands around the broomhandle and bent his head, now decidedly in the middle of the pack. His friend had begun to falter up ahead, his face magenta as he pushed himself further down his broomstick. Scorpius, sitting tall on his own broom, passed him easily, pale chin raised just a tick higher than usual.
They finished the two laps. Rose, Maren and Scorpius led the group along with the fourth year boy. Katrina DeMarco followed closely with a burly dark haired girl who seemed rather too old to be in school and a scrawny boy who Rose guessed to be a second year. The flyers congregated around Henry in the middle of the pitch, lingering some twenty feet in the air.
"Who d'ya reckon has a good chance?" Rose asked Maren as they waited for everyone to finish.
"The small kid by Katrina seems fast," Maren murmured, looking over her shoulder. "Though any stronger wind would probably knock him over. Those boys who were flying with us were good too."
"They were showoffs," Rose scowled. "Henry doesn't like showoffs."
"He likes good flyers, though."
"Weasley has a point, though," Scorpius broke in, halting his broom so that he hovered on Maren's other side. "It seems like they prioritize showmanship over skill. It worked for two laps around the pitch but in a match? They'd be crushed."
"We'll see how they do in the other drills," Maren shrugged. "And what positions they're going for. I don't think either of them could play chaser, at least."
Rose shook her head. "No way. They'd have to be seekers. I don't think they could play with anyone else. Unless they're trying to be beaters together?"
"Then they're bloody thick," Maren laughed. "Henry's the captain. Nobody can get his spot."
They were interrupted by Henry's shout, announcing the drills they were going to run next. "They're just basic maneuvers," he called, his magically magnified voice echoing through the stands. "I expect any member of my team to be able to execute these flawlessly."
Rose snorted and glanced at Maren. "Good thing you had us run these earlier."
"I told you I knew what I was doing." Maren tossed her head and adjusted her grip on her broomhandle.
The rest of the morning passed quickly. The group went through the drills as Henry scribbled on his clipboard, occasionally calling for a time out and asking someone to reposition themselves or try something different. Rose and Maren both performed well, outflying nearly everyone except Katrina, who led the group through the maneuvers with a gracefulness that Rose could only dream of. A handful of flyers fell short of the group and returned, wilting, to the ground and Rose tried valiantly not to look too pleased when one of the fourth year boys who had shown off earlier ran into a goal hoop and had to be escorted down to the stands.
When they had finished the drills they split into groups according to the position they were trying out for. The trials for keeper were first, with Rose and a bulky third year the only two candidates. The hopeful chasers queued up and tried to score. The third year was good, Rose couldn't deny, but he constantly drifted to the left and his reaction times, she couldn't help but note, were rather slow. He managed to save nine out of twelve goals, however, ending with a polyrot roll that Rose grudgingly admitted was quite impressive. She saved every goal until the last, which she hotly contested as the second year had flown directly into her, nearly knocking her over as he reached up and tossed the quaffle through.
"That's a foul!" Rose screeched, breathing hard as she regained control of her broom. "You can't come within three meters of the keeper if they're in position!"
"Pederson, she's right," Henry boomed. "Get back in the queue. And Rose, relax. Nothing happened, you're fine."
After the goal-keeping, Henry put the chasers through a series of scrimmages, with Rose guarding one side of the goals and the third year guarding the other. After every goal, Henry changed the teams, seeing how different chasers worked together. There were several skilled flyers, and a few older students who handled the quaffle well. But Katrina, Maren, and Scorpius had built up a system of unspoken communication and trust which none of the newcomers could break. Rose smiled to herself as Maren swooped below Scorpius just as he dropped the quaffle, catching it easily and sending it through the goal before the other keeper realized what had happened.
Henry let the keepers and chasers return to the ground and relax while he ran the trials for beaters and the seeker. Rose watched for a moment, but then began chatting with Maren and Katrina about the Holyhead Harpies' newly released robes. ("The dragonhide paneling on the side is gorgeous! And Aunt Ginny said their hoods are wind and water resistant, so the players have better visibility during storms.") When she glanced up, she saw the small boy who had kept up with Katrina in the initial flight around the pitch watching Henry and nodding. They must be onto the seeker trials.
Before long everybody returned to the ground and Rose sat up. Henry landed beside her, reading over his clipboard and scratching things out. He cleared his throat, shaking the ground.
"Right," he said, shoving his quill in his pocket and looking around. "Thank you everyone for coming out today, it's really great to see so much enthusiasm for Ravenclaw's quidditch team. I'm pleased to say I've made a decision for every position, so nobody will have to go through the suspense of waiting until Monday."
A general sigh of relief swept through the group. Rose caught Maren's eye and smiled.
"Our chasers will be Katrina DeMarco, Maren Thomas, and Scorpius Malfoy," Henry said, glancing at the clipboard. "Our beaters will be myself and Linus Fleming."
Rose saw the scrawny second year's head shoot up, an enormous grin covering his face. She raised an eyebrow and nudged Maren, who shrugged.
"Our keeper will be Rose Weasley." Henry nodded at her.
Rose grinned and her shoulders relaxed, a small bubble of unspoken relief exploding in her chest.
"And our seeker will be Hera Plumaj."
The tall, broad shouldered girl whom Rose had noticed earlier started. Her straight dark hair, tied in a high ponytail, swished around her face and her dark eyes crinkled to nothing as she smiled. "Thanks, Winkle," she called out.
Henry gave a jerky nod and hastily turned back to his clipboard.
Something hit Rose in the shoulder and she turned to see Maren looking at her with a mixture of awe and fear. "I reckon she could play any position she wants," Maren whispered. "Look at her, she looks like the professional players in Quidditch Quarterly."
"I know," Rose replied, eyes widening as she tried to glance discreetly at the girl again. "She looks like she could step on half of these kids."
"And she's so pretty!"
"How does she get her hair to stay like that?" Rose asked, running a hand through her own ponytail, which was by now half slick with sweat and half frizzy, a few escaped curls sticking to her neck and forehead.
Maren shrugged. "Maybe she knows a charm. Or maybe it just does that on its own."
"Bullocks," Rose grumbled. "Nobody's hair looks that nice on its own."
"Thank you again for coming out," Henry said, tapping the clipboard with his wand. "I'll post the list of reserves in the common room Monday morning. If you made the team please stay here a moment so we can have our first meeting, and if you haven't you're free to go."
The rustling of robes and trundle of boots greeted these words as a dozen downtrodden students meandered back to the castle, clucking and grumbling amongst themselves.
The new Ravenclaw house quidditch team came together. Henry pointed his wand at his throat and mumbled something, his voice suddenly returning to normal volume. "Merlin, I hate doing that," he muttered as he stowed his wand back in his pocket. "But, anyway," he grinned and looked around at all of them, clapping the small new beater on the shoulder. "Welcome, everyone. I think we're going to have a brilliant team this year. Most of you know each other, but Linus and Hera, we're excited to have you."
"Hear, hear," Katrina chirped, echoed by Rose, Maren, and Scorpius.
"That's really all I had to say right now," Henry said, running a hand through his hair. "And that we're still working on the practice schedule so if you have any regular conflicts let me know as soon as you can. Our first match is against Slytherin in October so I'd like to get as many practices in as possible before then."
"Of course," Maren nodded. "We'll crush Slytherin this year, Winkle."
"We'll see," Henry grimaced. "So yeah, that's really all. Tell me any conflicts before Monday morning and I'll send out the practice schedule next week. Fleming, Plumaj, if you want to go to the changing rooms we can get you some robes. You lot," he gestured to Rose, Maren, Scorpius, and Katrina, "can head back to the castle if you want. Nice flying today."
"Thanks, Winkle," Katrina said before turning to the fifth years. "You three ready?"
They stored their brooms in the broomshed and fell into step back to the castle, Katrina and Rose in front with Maren and Scorpius trailing. "I thought those went very well," Katrina murmured. "Henry's gotten a lot better at corralling large crowds. And there weren't too many obnoxious wankers today."
"Thank Merlin those two idiots didn't make it," Maren said. "Can you imagine having one of them on the team?"
"They never had much of a chance," Scorpius said. He paused and added, "Was Milo terribly upset he didn't make it?"
"Nah." Katrina shook her head. "I think he's used to it by now."
"He tried out for beater, didn't he?" Maren inquired.
"Yeah," Katrina sighed. "Hit himself in the leg with the bat, bless him."
"At least he's persistent," Rose giggled.
"Once he saw Fleming fly he knew it was a lost cause," Katrina shrugged. "You know, he's quite small for a fourth year but I reckon he might be one of the best flyers I've ever seen."
"He's a fourth year?" Rose demanded, slowing down as she turned to stare at Katrina. "I thought he was a second year! He's so tiny!"
"Yes, he's a fourth year," Katrina snorted. "Though you're not one to talk about height, Weasley," she patted Rose on the shoulder, "I reckon you were the smallest one there."
"That is completely different," Rose huffed and crossed her arms. "My height doesn't hurt my position. Keepers need to be agile, quick, whereas beaters—"
"Need to be both those things as well," Katrina said.
"They need muscle!"
"Most of the muscle that beaters need is in the core," Maren interjected. "It's much more about balance than power."
Rose scowled. "Fine, fine, it just seems like he should've been playing a different position."
"Well he was the best flyer that came out for beater by far," Katrina said. "Scorpius, didn't you say that he managed a double twist?"
"He did," Scorpius nodded. "And he hit the bludger at the end of it, too."
"Blimey," Maren whistled. "Between him and Plumaj we'll be unstoppable. Y'know, she looks like she could kill me with one hand."
"She's bloody terrifying," Rose agreed.
"She's not terrifying in the slightest," Katrina laughed, shaking her head. "She's probably one of the nicest girls in the house. She's a year older than me and people just fawn over her. I don't think I've ever seen her kill a bug."
"Oh, well," Maren said slowly, "maybe we won't let the other teams know that, yeah? A little intimidation can go a long way."
"Sure, Thomas," Katrina said. "That'll be our great strategy to win the cup this year."
"It could work!" Maren cried.
They reached the castle doors and trooped inside, leaving muddy tracks along the floor as the castle buzzed with unseen movement.
"Blimey, I'm knackered," Rose yawned, stretching her arms wide. "I think I have to take a nap before dinner."
"It's barely one o'clock," Katrina chided.
"Somebody woke me up in the middle of the bloody night to practice," Rose said, shooting a mock glare at Maren over her shoulder.
"It worked, didn't it?" Maren shrugged unapologetically.
Rose mumbled indistinctly. They climbed up the stairs, debating the proper time to take a nap until they reached the seventh floor. The eagle knocker sat waiting for them.
"You can enter me but never touch me, can find me in an instant but can never see me, cannot stay with me but can never stay away. What am I?"
Rose crinkled her eyebrows and folded her arms. "What in the—"
"The unconscious," Katrina said crisply. The eagle knocker nodded and the door swung open.
"Well," Katrina said as they entered the room, which held a smattering of students. "Nice flying today, everyone. I think I see Milo over there. I'll see you lot later."
"Bye, Katrina," Rose called as the older girl walked away.
"I think I'm going down to the Slytherin common room to see Nathan and Al," Scorpius said when Katrina was out of sight. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Maren. "I'll see you at dinner."
"Alright," Maren nodded. "Nice job today, Malfoy."
"You too," Scorpius said, giving a small smile and clapping Maren on the shoulder. "It'll be good to play together for another year." He turned to go and his eyes flickered to Rose; his smile faltered momentarily. "And, er, good job to you as well, Weasley."
Rose swallowed and flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. "You too, Malfoy."
He nodded and fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. "Right. I'll see you at dinner, Thomas."
"Bye, Scorpius," Maren called as he strolled back through the doorway. "Well," she said, turning to Rose and raising an eyebrow, "shall we go up and tell Allie the good news? Maybe she can do something with your hair as well."
Rose rolled her eyes and started toward the spiral staircase leading to their dormitory. "As long as I can sleep first."
"Fine," Maren sighed. "But then you have to do that doxy skin face mask with me later tonight. You've been saying you would for two weeks."
"Deal."
***
Dinner that night was a triumphant affair. Rose had barely sat down when a bundle of hair and yarn accosted her.
"I made it!" Hugo shouted into her shoulder, the thick sleeve of his Weasley jumper momentarily suffocating her. "I'm the new beater!"
"That's wonderful," Rose choked out when she finally got free of the asphyxiating jumper. She ruffled her brother's hair and grinned. "Dad'll go mad when he finds out, he'll be so happy!"
"I was up against a sixth year," Hugo said, puffing his chest out and pointing his chin higher. "She was quite good but kept trying to pull all these stunts and the captain said I was more reliable."
"That's always a good thing to be," Rose responded.
"Way to go, Hugo!" Maren cheered from beside Rose, waving her spoon in the air. "You'll be a marvelous beater even though Ravenclaw is going to crush Hufflepuff this year."
"Not anymore," Hugo sniffed. "We're taking back the cup. The badgers are back!"
"Sure," Rose snorted. "Whatever you say."
"D'you think Dad'll come for my matches?" Hugo asked, leaning over and plucking a carrot from Rose's plate. "An' mum?"
"Probably," Rose shrugged. "You know Dad loves his quidditch matches."
"Brilliant," Hugo beamed. He took another carrot and straightened. "I've got to go tell Lily now!" He scampered away, bouncing through the Great Hall as though he had eaten an entire container of fizzing whizbees.
"Good for him," Rose murmured to nobody in particular, eyes following her brother as he skidded to a halt at the Gryffindor table in front of Lily.
"He'll make a good beater," Maren agreed, heaping a pile of mashed potatoes onto her plate. "I think your dad might combust when he gets the news, though."
"It'll be the greatest thing to happen to him all year," Rose laughed. "And now he'll have an excuse to come to even more matches."
"And get some Hufflepuff apparel."
"And take us to more professional matches over holidays for 'training.'"
Maren snorted. "Remember to include your teammates in that training, Weasley."
Rose took a roll and began to butter it. "Of course." She took a bite of muffin and looked over her shoulder again in search of Hugo. She perked up as she saw another figure walk over from the Gryffindor table. "F'ed!"
"Hey, Rosie," Fred said, waving and raising an eyebrow. "I heard trials went well."
"Mhm." Rose nodded enthusiastically as she swallowed her bite. "I'm still keeper."
"And I heard Hugh made the Hufflepuff team."
"Yeah," Rose sat a little straighter and tossed her hair. "He's the new beater. He said he beat out a sixth year!"
"Good for him," Fred chuckled. "He's a good player. Dependable, not too flashy, good teammate."
"I know," Rose said proudly. "He'll be wonderful."
"And, Maren, I heard you're still on the team as well," Fred said, nudging Maren in the shoulder.
She grinned. "Thanks. And I take it you're still on the Gryffindor team?"
"James hasn't kicked me off yet," Fred shrugged. He tapped Maren and squeezed onto the bench between her and Rose. "Though he's going mad this year. He made us stay out there for five hours yesterday. Five!"
"Doing what?" Rose asked, taking another bite of her roll.
"Drills and timed flies around the pitch and learning the basics of every position. He made me play keeper for four plays!"
Rose let out a laugh, spraying a few crumbs across the table. She covered her mouth with her hand and silently shook with subdued giggles. "You played keeper?" she asked when she regained control of herself. "You're a rubbish keeper."
"I know," Fred shook his head. "And when I let it eight goals in a row he threatened to keep me later—"
"He didn't."
"He did! And it wasn't until Kennedy told him off for keeping everyone there so long that he let it drop."
"Wow," Rose let out a breath. "You should write to Aunt Ginny and tell her that."
"I think Roxy did," Fred said. "Although we thought about it and, really, I wouldn't be surprised if that was her idea."
"Oh," Rose nodded. "You're right."
"The Potters are bloody crazy when it comes to quidditch." Fred took a drink of pumpkin juice. "Absolutely barmy."
"The rest of your family isn't much better," Maren pointed out.
"True," Fred conceded. "But the Potters are especially mad."
"You lot have a family member on every house team in the school now, though," Maren said, rolling her eyes. "That's mad. It's unbelievable. Nobody can go to a quidditch match without seeing one of you."
"Ugh, there's going to be parents at every match now," Rose groaned.
"I thought you liked seeing them?" Maren asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
"I do," Rose sighed. "But this is school. I don't want to see my parents or aunts or uncles every single match. And every time my dad sees me play he wants to give me pointers-"
"Both my parents do that," Fred nodded. "Drives me mad, but Roxy hates it more. Y'know, one time she actually tried to ban Mum from coming to the matches. Said it ruined her concentration."
"Oh no," Rose gasped, picturing a battle between Aunt Angelina and Roxanne; just the thought made her want to run and duck for cover. "How did that go?"
"As well as you think."
"What did you and your dad do?" Rose cocked an eyebrow.
Fred laughed. "We hid out at the shop for a few days, until everything blew over."
"Good plan." Rose pulled a plate of turkey forward and turned to Fred. "Are you eating here? Do you want a plate?"
"Nah," he shook his head. "Just came to say good job. I'm heading over the Hufflepuff next to say the same to Hugh." He half-stood in his seat, before stopping. "But also," his eyes flickered from Rose to Maren, "James said the other day, Rosie, that he never sees you and Zeno said he hasn't seen either of you all term."
"Oh," Rose murmured. "I haven't seen Zeno, actually."
"Me either," Maren said, raising her eyebrows.
"Yeah, well, we were thinking you should come to the common room at some point and we'll have a game of exploding snap and some butterbeer. We'll have Roxy and Ly come as well and everyone can see each other for a bit."
"That sounds wonderful," Rose said.
"Excellent." Fred clambered off the bench, brushing his robes off as he went. "And maybe we'll have Al come too, though James says he sees too much of him."
"James is a prat," Rose snorted. "Have Al come, I want to hear how the Slytherin team looks this year."
"Of course," Fred nodded. "And I'm off to Hufflepuff to make sure Hugo hasn't exploded yet."
"Make sure to remind him that Dad likes to send howlers when he gets good news!" Rose called after him.
Fred laughed as he walked away, toward the next table where Hugo bounced in his seat.
Maren turned to Rose with a grin. "Glad I made you come to trials now?"
Rose rolled her eyes and tried to suppress a smile as she picked up her glass of pumpkin juice. "I suppose."