"Just bloody brilliant," he muttered, rubbing his face wearily, the sling on his arm sliding down even though his arm had long since healed from the hippogriff incident. That was when Lane started to think that maybe, something wasn't alright. He studied Draco critically until their eyes met, Draco’s more confused than anything. “What?” He asked quietly, so Zabini didn’t hear. He was on the other side of the room, anyway.
Lane just shook his head and stood. He gestured with his thumb to follow him outside. Now, Draco Malfoy wasn’t usually one to just take orders, but he was tired and he really didn’t care about anything Lane Martin had to say. It was best to just get this over with.
The boys walked up the stairs until they reached the crowded common room. This was the meeting place after dinner for most of the students; usually, Draco was found in the center of the hubbub, but tonight he just didn’t feel up for it. Lane led him through the seemingly endless group of people, finally stopping when they were at the entrance to the Slytherin Dungeon. “Let’s walk,” Lane said. Still confused, Draco complied without voicing any complaints.
They had walked for a few minutes before Draco said, “Martin. What’s this about?” This was random. Lane hadn’t really tried talking to him since their ‘confrontation’ in Arithmancy three weeks ago. They’d still sat together in classes as Professor Arthio lectured them on mathematics and its effect on magic, but conversation was minimal and clipped.
Lane turned to Draco with a sigh and gave him an exasperated look, as if the motive of his actions was very plain to see. Obviously, to Draco, it wasn’t. Again, Lane sighed and shook his head before looking back at his dormmate. “What’s been going on with you, Draco? You’ve been a bit off for the last few weeks.”
The tips of Draco’s ears and cheeks flushed a light pink, but Lane ignored it as the blonde boy formulated a response. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Martin. I’ve been fine.” What, was this his customary response when asked a question or something? ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Martin.’ Psshyeah, he doesn’t.
“Draco, stop pussyfooting around and just tell me what’s been wrong! Is it Caroline, or your –”
“Martin, just shut up! There’s nothing wrong, and even if there were, I wouldn’t tell you!” Draco yelled, storming away. By his response, and his previous knowledge of his relationship with her, Lane assumed something was going on with Caroline. Hmm…Maybe he could find out from her…
But not right now. Right now, Lane had his own mission. And it was bloody brilliant.
*
Caroline, Luna, and Ginny made a bit of a habit to stick together when they were in the halls between classes. There was always a class that two of them had together, so they just found it easier to walk the third to their class and make their way to their own.
One day, just a week from Quidditch tryouts (Caroline was excited, but she didn’t know if she should tryout or not…she still didn’t seem to be all that good), Caroline and Luna had dropped Ginny off at Herbology with Slytherin and were making their way to Charms. They were chatting aimlessly, feeling somewhat content (you know, except for that weird feeling in the pit of Caroline’s stomach that told her she was in trouble with an authority figure, but she had no idea who) in themselves as they rounded the last corner.
Now, when you see anybody dressed up in excessive knargle paraphernalia, one is usually allowed a large margin of shock. As it was, Caroline was between dying of embarrassment for her friend and laughing herself silly. But Luna just looked entirely shell-shocked. Oh, poor Luna.
Lane Martin bounced his way to stand in front of them. He wore a large knargle hat and sported a full ensemble of knargle necklaces and bracelets. And to top it off, he had a large, bulky sweater on, with a hugely-knit knargle face on the front. “Hi, Luna!” he said with a grin, waving his loudly-knargle-clad arm at her as he approached. Luna just looked on, horrified.
Caroline had to bite her fist to keep from laughing too hard.
“Go – Go away! Go away! AWAY! I don’t have my necklace, Caroline, my butterbeer cork necklace! It keeps them away!” Luna started running as fast as she could down the corridor. Lane promptly followed her. (“But --
LUNA! I LOOOOVE YOOOU!”) “The knargles are swarming, the knargles are swarming! Aggggh!” Luna’s scream was probably heard throughout the castle, but the sound didn’t reach Caroline’s ears. They were too filled with her own mirth.
*
The morning of Quidditch tryouts rang bright and early for Caroline. She’d awoken especially early because her nerves seemed to be getting to her. What if someone tried to hex her broom like Draco had? And, for that matter, as Draco was mad at her at the moment, would he try to sneak in and hex her broom again himself?
No, Caroline calmed herself. He wouldn’t do that. They were beyond that. But was he really?
The walk to the Quidditch pitch that early Saturday morning was nerve-wrecking. Hufflepuffs had the field from eighty-thirty to ten, when the Gryffindors had their tryouts, but there were a lot of people to try out in that short time.
The first to try out were the prospective chasers. Cedric Diggory, the team captain called out the names in alphabetical order as more and more students tried out. Some of them were good, some weren’t. Caroline only hoped she would be good enough.
Finally, Diggory called out, “Caroline Smith.” She stepped forward, sporting Alice’s Cleensweep (she’d graciously offered its use for the occasion) in the center of the field. She pushed off into the air, feeling the now-familiar adrenaline rush and mild euphoria of the first few moments of being airborne. One of the senior players, another chaser, tossed a Quaffle to another player, and the tryout was beginning.
Caroline flew straight down the pitch. The two previously mentioned players were passing the ball continuously between themselves, just out of her reach. She leaned forward a little more, putting more speed on the broom, and felt herself accelerating well. Maybe she could do this. Yeah, she could do this.
Before she knew it, she’d flown between the two and intercepted their pass, quickly flipping the broom in some maneuver only her instincts had known and speeding down the pitch in the direction of the keeper at the posts. The keeper was ready, in his defensive stand in front of the middle post. She quickly analyzed his body language. He seemed to be favoring his left side, but his head was titling to his right. She decided to take a bit of a chance.
She flew to his left, watching as his expression turned from expectant to incredulous. She’d been watching all the other chasers try and get the Quaffle into the right hoop, but he was backing that side more. Why shouldn’t she be different, anyway? She shot the Quaffle at the left goal and it soared through. She dove down and caught it, waiting as one of the other players met her so she could return the ball to them. The player gave her an encouraging smile and nodded. “You were great,” the older girl said, grinning as she turned back on her broom to her previous stance for the next potential chaser.
There was a small crowd waiting for her when she touched back onto the ground. Viola, Jill, Alice, Ernie, and Justin were all there, cheering. Caroline blushed fairly well as she handed the broom back to Alice. “That was brilliant! You’re sure to have made it, Caroline!” Viola squealed, hugging her friend tightly. Caroline was still kind of in shock, so she didn’t mind as much as she normally would have.
Besides, she seemed to have mostly gotten over her hug-o-phobia as of late. It didn’t bother her so much.
The small group made their way to the stands to watch the rest of the tryouts. The keepers were mostly horrible, the beaters weren’t really vicious enough, and the seekers were just too blind to see the snitches. But, it seemed to Caroline that the crop of new chasers was pretty good that year.
She didn’t see him, but he could see her. Draco kicked at the ground as he watched her flying back down to the ground and running off with her friends. Well, done, Blondie. Well done.
*
Caroline was anxious. They were posting the results of the Quidditch tryouts soon, and she wanted to know if she’d made the team. She was sure she had.
Cedric Diggory moved through the room and pinned a piece of parchment on the board. He smiled at the group of Hufflepuffs around him and said, “It was difficult deciding who to keep, and bring on, and let go this year. I really hope you guys agree with our decisions.” He moved away from the board as people pushed their way to the front to see where their names stood on the list, if they were there at all.
Caroline stood back and waited. Maybe she didn’t want to know if she’d made it. But the anticipation was killing her. Soon, the crowd around the post board had thinned and she slowly walked up, scanning the paper.
No name. Her name wasn’t there.
“Caroline Smith?” She turned around to see Cedric Diggory behind her. She was still shocked. She hadn’t made it. She’d tried so hard all of last year, and she hadn’t made it. She simply nodded in acknowledgement at the Quidditch captain as he sighed and led her over to a couple of chairs. “We wanted to keep you in, but let’s face it – you’re a very small girl, Caroline. Being chaser can be dangerous because the beaters hit bludgers at you for most of the game, and we didn’t feel it worth possibly risking your overall well-being to put you on the team. But, you were a brilliant on the field,” he added emphatically.
Caroline was staring at the floorboards when she started to feel it. Anger. “Why don’t you just say it?” she asked quietly, glancing at him. He looked confused for a moment, so she decided to clarify. “You don’t think I’m too small, you didn’t think I was good enough!”
He made absolutely protestant noises, but she shook her head and stood. “I’m really very sorry, Cedric Diggory, but I have to leave now,” she muttered softly, quickly pacing herself as she had to nearly climb out of the portrait hole. She was barely containing her emotions right now, anyway.
She’d tried all last year to get better. She had gotten better. She was good. And they still didn’t choose her. She’d waited all night like a nervous little nit, and they hadn’t chosen her. She obviously just wasn’t good enough for those people. Caroline sighed exasperatedly, rubbing at her cheeks, which she’d just noticed were wet with frustrated tears.
Caroline walked aimlessly, just trying to clear her head. Viola, Alice, Jill, and everyone else had probably already noticed the absence of her name on the list. They were probably disappointed in her. A small part of her brain told her that her friends didn’t care if she made the team or not – she was Caroline, and Caroline stayed Caroline as long as she was Caroline. Quidditch couldn’t change that. But it barely felt like she was Caroline anymore.
She rounded a corner and bumped into something solid, falling on her bum to the floor. “Hmph,” she breathed, brushing her hands off and looking up. What she saw made her feel both a little bit better…and a little bit worse. “Hey,” she said quietly.
It was very dark and deserted in the corridor, since it was probably ten o’clock at night, but she could still see his shiny blonde hair and pale face from the outside light coming through the mullioned windows. His expression went from incredulity to something softer when he realized who it was. He held out his hand to help her up. “Hey,” he said when she was back on her feet.
They stood there in silence for a few minutes. “I—I don’t hate you,” Draco said, watching her as she sighed and leaned against the wall, running her fingers through her hair. He frowned and looked at her face, which happened to still hold traces of her earlier frustrations. “You’ve been..crying?”
Caroline rolled her eyes and looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”
Draco looked at her incredulously, one hand moving to his hair, a worried idiosyncrasy of his Caroline had noticed long ago. “Doesn’t matter! Why were you crying? Who made you cry?” Caroline looked up at him, slightly amused by his overprotective, domineering self, and smiled a little. Her smile made even more confused.
“I’m fine, Draco. I just didn’t get on the Quidditch team, that’s all,” Caroline said softly, looking up at him.
He was unbelievably angry again. “What? You were bloody brilliant! They didn’t let you on?!”
He’d said more than he should have. Caroline’s eyebrows raised as he smiled innocently. “I’m only going by, erm, instinct here, uh, you see – I could only feel that you had done very, uh, well, in the tryouts today,” he tried to cover up, but she was unconvinced. He sighed. “Fine. I saw you try out.”
“Spying, were you?” she asked with a small smirk, crossing her arms. She was enjoying this.
Draco sent her an ungrateful look; her mocking was not welcomed with good graces. “No, Caroline, I was not spying. I just wanted to see you try out. I hadn’t actually seen you playing before, I was curious,” he said defensively.
“Well, anyway,” Caroline said, looking off and smiling. Did she not predict this? He did something funny, something cute, something to make her feel like neither of them had been mad at each other, and all was forgotten. But right now, she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel better, and, alas, she knew Draco was one of the few people who could do that.
_____________________________________________
Okay!
That's what I've written as of now...I may write more before you reply, though.(:
That's what I've written as of now...I may write more before you reply, though.(: