The next day was a weekend, so there were no classes.
When Kyle opened the dormitory door that morning, he found Cedric waiting for him with his arms stretched out.
"What's with that pose… trying to be a lucky cat?" Kyle asked suspiciously.
"What cat…? Never mind, it's not important," Cedric said, dropping his arms. "I'm here to get you. Did you forget that today is Quidditch tryouts? Why are you only coming out now?"
"No, I just woke up…" Kyle said, rubbing his face. It was a rare weekend with beautiful weather, so he'd taken the chance to sleep in.
Cedric sighed, rubbing his forehead. "The tryouts start at ten, and it's already half-past nine… how can you sleep through that?"
"There's still half an hour. Plenty of time," Kyle replied, grabbing his Nimbus 2000 and following Cedric out of the common room.
Outside, they were joined by Kanna, who had been waiting while Cedric fetched Kyle. Together, they headed across the grounds to the Quidditch Pitch.
Though the selection hadn't officially started, the area was already buzzing with activity. Even Professor Sprout, who rarely left the greenhouse, was on the pitch, talking with Madam Hooch. The stands around the field were packed with students, including Hufflepuffs and those from other houses. Judging by the anxious faces, at least half of them were here to gather intel on the competition.
But Harris, the team captain, didn't seem to mind; he had no intention of shooing anyone away. When Kyle and the others arrived, he was even enthusiastically explaining the basics of Quidditch to a group of younger students.
"Quidditch is really quite simple," he said. "The Chasers score by throwing the Quaffle, while the Beaters protect their teammates from the Bludgers and hit the Bludgers toward the opposition."
In the stands, Harris leaned toward a bespectacled boy and continued, "But you don't need to worry about all that, Potter. As Seeker, your job is to catch the Golden Snidget as quickly as possible."
"What's a Golden Snidget?" Harry asked, curious.
"A very tricky little creature," Harris replied. "But catching it ends the game and adds 150 points to your team's score."
"Golden… Snidget…" Harry murmured, trying to remember. Suddenly, he looked at Harris, puzzled. "Wait… how did you know I was the Seeker?"
"It was easy to figure out," Harris said, shaking his head. "Wood's been grinning nonstop the past few days, even eating two extra spoonfuls at meals. The only thing that could make him that happy is finally finding a Seeker."
"So Wood told you?" Harry let out a sigh of relief. At least it hadn't leaked from his side.
"Not at all," Harris replied with a laugh. "Wood actually tried to keep it secret, saying he'd only be that happy if his owl had a second baby. So, I went straight to Professor McGonagall. She's the one who told me you're Gryffindor's new Seeker."
"Professor McGonagall?" Harry sat in stunned silence, feeling a pang of sympathy for Wood. He'd planned to keep his position a secret weapon to surprise the other teams, but in less than a day, the information had come straight from McGonagall herself.
This was hardly a secret.
"You'll do great, Harry. I'm looking forward to the day we play against you," Harris said, patting him on the shoulder before heading toward the field. He greeted Kyle and the others as he passed by.
"Looks like it's about to start," Kyle said, taking his Nimbus 2000 and settling into a seat at the front of the bleachers.
Kanna glanced up at the field and asked, "How many players are we picking this time?"
"Two—a Beater and a Chaser," Cedric replied. "Kyle's trying out for the Chaser spot."
"Hm," Kyle nodded beside him.
He much preferred the thrill of scoring goals to the constant dodge and counter-attack of the Beaters or the endless search for small, elusive Snitches. Sure, each goal was worth only ten points, but with enough goals, a Chaser could easily add up to 150 points—or even more.
Right at ten o'clock, the tryouts began.
The Beater selection was first, with three candidates competing. Under Harris's direction, the three of them mounted their broomsticks and took their positions at the center of the pitch. For Beaters, accuracy and swing strength were key, and Harris had brought the box containing the Bludgers out in advance. All they had to do was stay on their brooms as long as possible, with the last one remaining being awarded the team spot.
As Harris opened the box, the two Bludgers shot out like cannonballs, immediately wreaking havoc in the air.
The three candidates took turns using their bats to deflect the Bludgers aimed at them. Having passed initial tryouts, they were no pushovers, and it would take more than a stray Bludger to knock any of them off their brooms. The crowd watched in silence, fully absorbed in the contest.
About five minutes in, the first elimination happened. It was the youngest player, a second-year. He'd grown impatient after no one had faltered and tried aiming a Bludger at the other two to throw them off balance. But he overextended, and his bat slipped from his grasp, flying out of his hands. He barely had a moment to react before a Bludger zoomed past and knocked him clean off his broom.
"Oh… that must have hurt," Harry muttered, wincing as he subconsciously touched his shoulder, feeling a twinge of imagined pain.
"That's the life of a Beater," Ron said knowingly. "George told me his arm was broken three times by Bludgers when he first joined the team. Fred wasn't much better—he broke his leg."
Kyle, overhearing, looked at Cedric with disbelief. "Fred and George got injured by Bludgers?"
"Absolutely not!" Cedric replied with certainty. "Other Beaters have gotten injured, sure, but Fred and George? As far as I know, they went through their entire first year without a single Bludger even grazing their robes."
He smirked, "Honestly, they're like Bludgers themselves."