Quidditch Results
1972
After celebrating my spot on the Slytherin team alone, I head out to find Lily.
Unfortunately, I find her consoling Marlene, who did not make her house team.
“They’ll probably be terrible,” Lily comforts her.
“Thanks Lils,” she wipes her face on her sleeve.
I walk over quietly, with a small smile prepared on my face.
“Hey Marls,” I say lightly.
“Connie! Congratulations,” she grins through fresh tears.
Against my better nature I step forward and pull her into a hug.
“You must be bloody brilliant,” she smiles, stepping back. “James was great and he only made the reserve team.”
Interesting. The great James Potter had made the Gryffindor Reserve team.
“Slytherin had more openings. Besides, Keeper isn’t all that hard. You’ll make the team next year, for sure.”
“I suppose I’ll just have to be happy with booing you from the stands this year,” she jokes, finally having stopped crying.
“I’m already quite worried about the practice schedule,” I sit down on the stone bench. “It’s going to wreak havoc on my studying.”
“You’re brilliant. You’ve nothing to worry about,” Marlene says and I remember I probably shouldn’t complain about getting a spot on my house team to her.
“Anyone hungry?” I ask, changing the subject.
We make our way to the Great Hall and things don’t really improve. While I am sitting at the Gryffindor table, many of my housemates stop by to congratulate me.
It only gets worse when Potter and his friends walk in, bright smiles on their faces.
James, obviously quite proud of his place on the Gryffindor team, swaggers over to us, patting Marlene on the shoulder.
“Better luck next time, McKinnon. Fair bit of flying though,” he offers as some sort of backhanded compliment. I just keep my nose down, sipping on my tea and hoping he doesn’t see me.
“Thanks, James,” Marlene has become quite chipper since Dorcas joined us with an entire box of fizzing whizbees as a gift.
“Will you come and cheer me on, Evans?” he asks, leaning over Marlene’s shoulder.
Sirius and Remus look at each other and I stifle a laugh. James is barking up the wrong tree with Lily Evans.
“Isn’t your first match against Slytherin?” Lily asks.
For a second I don’t understand her sudden willingness to give James the time of day.
He is so distracted by her, he hasn’t even glanced at me.
Nodding his head sharply he says, “Gryffindor is going to smash Slytherin.”
“Sorry then. I’ll be cheering for Connie. She’s going to be Slytherin’s starting keeper,” Lily turns towards me.
James finally looks away from her.
“Right. Congratulations,” he offers with a bit more cordiality than I was expecting.
“Thanks, you as well,” I say.
“Slytherin is going to need all the support they can get if they hope to stand up against Gryffindor,” Sirius slings his arm around James’ shoulder.
I should just laugh it off, but it nettles me a bit too much.
“Let’s make a bet. If Gryffindor gets a quaffle past me in the first five minutes of the match, I’ll color my hair red and gold for a week. If they don’t, you lot have to color your hair bright green.”
“Connie,” Lily whispers like she wants me to rethink my rash decision.
I ignore her, shaking Black’s hand as Pettigrew tugs on his sleeve. Apparently the pudgy boy doesn’t think he’ll be able to pull off green hair.
“It’s a bet. No way does a second year girl stop Lou Gibson from scoring,” Sirius puffs up his chest.
I stand up, offended at his insinuation that girls can’t play quidditch as well as boys.
“We’ll see,” I grab my bag off the bench and step back from the table.
“Yes, we will.”
“At least I’ll actually see the pitch,” I snap.
Immediately I regret my words. James looks hurt at the comment, but worse is Marlene’s face.
Rather than staying to make things worse, I storm off.
“Connie!” A voice calls after me.
I spin around as soon as I am sure I am out of the Gryffindor’s view.
“Eleanor!”
She’s wearing her prefect badge on her robes.
“I've just heard from Grace. Keeper! That’s fantastic.”
“Thanks. Burke has us practicing three times a week. Are we still on for Monday night?” I ask.
Eleanor and I had moved on from her teaching me spells, to simply spending time together. She was able to visit Hogsmeade on the weekends, so she usually brought back something for us to do on Mondays.
“Yes. I have prefect duty at 8 though.”
“Alright. How is it?”
“It’s alright. I like that I can take points away.”
“More or less than giving points to your friends?”
“I would never abuse my post,” she says with a smirk.
She and I walk together back to the common room.
“Eleanor, do you know Lou Gibson?”
“Sure. He’s Gryfindor’s star chaser. Everyone says he’s going to play professionally after he graduates this year.”
“He’s a seventh year?” My stomach flutters with nerves. Professionally? Merlin, what have I done?
She nods. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
When we get back to the common room, a large group of Slytherin’s are playing exploding snap. I’d yet to understand the game and had no real desire to do it now.
“I forgot something in the Great Hall,” I lie to Eleanor, turning back to the entrance.
She doesn’t catch my lie, which is good because I don’t want to explain where I am going.
Once I reach the quidditch pitch I realize I am having a full blown panic attack. My loud mouth has gotten me into trouble.
What if I am the reason we lose our first match? What if I am not as good as I think? What if Burke only let me on the team because I am a pureblood?
Grabbing my broom from the broomshed, I fly in furious laps around the pitch.
I only stop when the sun begins to set and it gets harder to see the rings.
Flying is the most incredible feeling in the world. I love it. Playing for Slytherin is a good thing.
I have to stop letting Black and Potter get in my head. They don’t want to be my friend and I don’t want to be theirs. No reason to keep interacting with them.
Two days later I find that distancing myself from Black is going to be more difficult than I thought. While waiting for Severus at the end of potions, I notice a young boy struggling with his cure for boils. He seems to have over stirred.
“If you add another rat tail, it will perk right back up,” I offer a piece of advice, unable to hold my tongue.
He glares at me but then looks down at his cauldron. The color is all wrong and he knows it.
Adding the rat tail and giving it a chance to bubble, he looks up at me, appraisal in his eyes.
“Regulus Black,” he offers, as if his name is a thank you. Another Black. I can see it. They both have wavy pitch black hair and symmetrical faces. Regulus has a sharper look in his eye than Sirius. He’s smaller too. He must be a first year student.
“Connie. Fawley,” I add as an afterthought. Surnames mean a lot to purebloods.
“You made the house team,” he says, his voice monotone.
So I just nod, unsure of what to make of this boy who is the complete opposite of his brother.
“The first match is soon.” His tone stays the same.
“Two weeks.”
“I heard you made a bet with my brother,” his face moves a bit as he sneers the word brother.
“Look, I didn’t mean anything by it,” I start to explain but he shakes his head.
“I think it’s excellent. I hope you win.”
I want to ask him why. But then I see the green tie and think about what Sirius had said over a year ago on the Hogwarts Express. His whole family were Slytherins.
Sirius Black is the black sheep of his family. The boy in front of me is probably mortified at his brother’s behavior.
“Me too.”
Relief floods in as Severus emerges from Slughorn’s office.
“Connie,” he greets me as he collects his books and walks towards me. “Black.”
They exchange a strange sort of acknowledgment.
“Ready?” I ask Sev. “It was nice to meet you Regulus.”
Regulus just smiles and gets back to his potion.
Severus and I head out into the hall, trudging towards the library to work on our Charms homework.
“What did he say to you?” Severus asks, glancing nervously back at the potions classroom door.
“Nothing. Just wished me good luck in the match coming up.” I am confused by his question. Why should he care what Regulus Black said?
“Oh right. Avery said you managed to block every quaffle in your tryout.”
Sev hadn’t exactly congratulated me when I told him I made the team. I was sure he was pleased for me, but I think he is worried I am not going to have as much time for him.
Although I don’t understand why. He is completely obsessed with Lily.
“Have you started the essay McGonagall set?” I change the subject.
“No, I planned on starting it after the charms work. Is Lily going to join us?”
“Yep.”
Finding a table in the library was easy this time of year. Most students studied out on the lawn, if they studied at all. The weather was about to turn, but pullovers and knitted scarves helped everyone pretend it was still September.
Sev and I find a table by the back wall and settle in, both scribbling away on parchment, waiting for Lily.
It isn’t that we don’t have anything to talk about. Or anything in common. He is just very quiet. Plus, he thinks it is my fault Black and Potter bother him so much.
I don’t think sticking up for myself is inviting them to be pricks to my friend, but he’d prefer I just stay under the radar.
Maybe it is unfair of me. After all, I don’t have parents to please or obligations to fulfill.
Being one of the richest witches in England had its fair share of perks. No one expected anything. Still, I want to be the best. The smartest. The most talented.
“I’m sorry I never wrote back to you,” Sev looks up from his parchment, stunning me. “Things were tense. At home,” he lets his hair fall in front of his face.
“It’s alright. I was hoping you could come to the Manor for a few days. You are always welcome,” I smile, feeling guilty for being upset with him. From what Lily says, his father is a tyrant.
“Maybe next Summer,” he offers, although he looks like he doubts that will happen.
So I just nod and we go back to work.
I am shocked once more when he lifts his head again.
“I really am happy for you about making the team. You’ll be brilliant,” his pale face looks uncharacteristically sincere.
It’s so unlike him I don’t know what to say so instead of saying anything I just grin big and offer him a licorice wand.
“Want to make a bet?”
He nods.
“I bet James Potter doesn’t see five minutes of play all year,” I whisper loudly.
“Deal,” he laughs. Madame Pince shushes us but we don’t stop sniggering until Lily arrives and asks what is so funny.