The New Marauder

Twenty Four

As soon as we walk into the locker room, my stomach sinks. Charlie stands in front of a group of about ten older kids who sit on the wooden benches placed in front of tall cubbies. Most of them are in plain clothes like Fred, George, and me, while a few stand in red and scarlet knitted uniforms with a small version of the Gryffindor crest patch on the left side of their chest.
"Good, everyone's here," Charlie smiles, clapping his hands.
"What are they doing here?" A semi-tall kid with fit arms calls out, pointing at us.
"They are here because we need two Beaters and a Chaser, and I'm stuck with you lot," Charlie snaps to the kid, making him turn red.
"But they're first years, and those two are your brothers." A burly older kid who looks like he needs a shave complains, causing the rest to start muttering to one another.
Across the room, I can see Charlie's face twist into an angry scowl. One thing I mentally note in my head is to never make him angry; he looks crazy scary right now, so much so that I start to have second thoughts about being in the same room as him right now.
"ENOUGH!" He shouts, finally blowing his gasket, making all of us jump, some more than others. "Look, I don't care if you're a first year or a seventh year. If you're here, then your only worry should be how well you play, not how old someone is. And while I will happily take everyone left from last year's team, I want you all to know right now that as of this moment, each and every spot on this team is up for grabs." He tells us firmly, looking around the room. "If you make it on this team, whether it be as a starter or reserve, I expect you all to get along and support one another. So if you can't do that, then there's the door." He breathes out, pointing to the door behind Fred, George, and me. When no one moves after what feels like an hour of everyone but Charlie staring at us, he lets out another frustrated breath. "Now, I booked the pitch for the rest of the afternoon since Slytherin and the others decided to hold their second-round tryouts tomorrow, taking up the rest of the weekend spots. If you have your own brooms, get them and your asses out onto the pitch. If you don't, come see me."
At once, everyone in the room moves as if a spell was broken; many of them left for the pitch, shooting us one last glare before disappearing through one of the wooden doors on the opposite side of the room.
"Sorry about them," a warm familiar feminine voice says from right beside us, making me jump again. "They're just intimidated by competing against Potter's kid."
Turning towards the voice, I feel heat start to creep up my neck as I meet the blue eyes of Gemma, our prefect. "I-it's ok-ay," I stutter out quickly, looking away from her, feeling my hands get clammy while Fred and George start snickering behind me. Yes, I know she's Charlie's girlfriend now, but I can't help the way my heart beats faster when I see her pretty smile or the way she flips her long blonde hair after she's done telling off a student. When she talks to us, she's super nice, and it makes my stomach all tingly inside. Is this how George feels every time he sees Angelina?
"You guys excited to fly today?" Charlie asks, snapping me out of my thoughts, causing the heat on my face to grow even hotter.
"Yeah, we are." I hear George's amused voice from behind me. "Better get Ori out there in the fresh air before she combusts." He finishes, laughing along with Fred.
"Ha. Ha. Ha." I mutter, moving away from them, embarrassed.
Just as I'm about to pass Charlie, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me towards a closet full of older-looking brooms. "Don't worry about them, mate. I remember when I first saw a pretty lady." He says lowly so the others don't hear. "Funny enough, it was Gemma; I was such a nervous wreck I almost spilled our potion all over us."
"Does it ever get better?" I ask, hearing my voice squeak a bit.
"With time." He nods reassuringly, pulling out three good-looking brooms, handing me the best-looking one. "Hey, after this, if we need to look at the new issue of Which Broomstick to find one you'll like." He says, smiling like he knows I will already be on the team.
An uncomfortable feeling of dread sinks into the pit of my stomach at the thought. "Um, Charlie, about that, well really all of this. I know everyone is expecting me to be this great chaser like my mother and Uncle James, but I was wondering. Even if I turn out to be better than those guys, could I possibly—"
"I'm not benching you, Ori. If you're good enough, then you belong on the team as a starter." Charlie cuts me off firmly.
"But like they said, I'm a first year."
"So what? Talent is talent." He says, shoving a broom into Fred's hands along with a beaten-looking bat. "These two are first years also, but I know that they have the makings of really good Beaters. You know what they're gonna do?"
"Kick—"
"—Ass." They say, one after another, wearing wide smiles.
"Exactly." Charlie nods, pushing them towards the door where Gemma is waiting. "I have heard what the Hufflepuffs are saying about you, and it sucks that your friend is being a right prat, but you can't let others hold you back." He finishes, placing a hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "Especially if you want people here to see you for you and not as your parent's kid." Nodding my head, I summon all the courage I can before following the twins out the door.
Walking out onto the pitch, I'm quickly blinded by the sun bearing down on us as we make our way to the blurry figures huddled together in the center. My  already clammy hands slip against the worn, grainy wooden handle of my broomstick while my nerves skyrocket, hearing the people in the stands call out to us down below.
"Listen up, we're flying five laps around the pitch, then we will split up into teams. Gemma and I will run you through drills. If you're still here, then after that, we will do a short scrimmage. As I said before, every position is open for filling; now get your asses in the air."