The Spiteful Sorting Hat

Hissing and Whispers

"Potter," Flint grunted, immediately returning to his paper.

This was not a very promising start, but Harry mustered his courage and asked, "Er... Quidditch trials are today, aren't they? When should I report to the pitch?"

"Quidditch trials?" Flint asked, his attention drawn away from the paper again as he gave Harry a closer look.

"Er... yes," Harry said. He was finding Flint very difficult to read. "There's an opening for Seeker, isn't there? I'd like to try out for the position."

Flint set his paper aside entirely. Harry took this as a good sign and submitted patiently to the critical examination Flint was giving him.

"Well, you've certainly got the build of a Seeker," he said after what seemed like forever, "Have you ever flown before?"

"Yes," Harry replied instantly, though he neglected to mention that he'd never played a real game of Quidditch. "I'm fast, too. I once caught a flying key bewitched by Professor Flitwick. That was last year, in the third floor corridor."

Harry still couldn't read Flint's expression, but he hoped to impress. The whole school knew enough about Harry's adventures in the forbidden corridor last year. Harry hoped the reminder of his exploits during his first year would bolster his favor with Flint.

"What sort of broom do you ride?" Flint asked.

"A Nimbus 2000," said Harry proudly.

Flint sucked his teeth, making a wet, clicking sound.

"Sorry, Potter," Flint said to Harry's disappointment, "The position has already been filled."

Harry's stomach dropped, and he couldn't stop himself from exclaiming, "By who?"

Flint had the decency to look a little ashamed as he replied, "Lucius Malfoy just made a generous donation to the team. We'll all be riding Nimbus 2001s."

"So his son could be Seeker, is that right?"

"Sorry," Flint said again, shrugging his shoulders.

"But Malfoy can't fly like I can," Harry said bitterly, though he hadn't seen Malfoy on the back of a broom since their flying lessons last year. "You can't buy real talent!"

Flint picked up his paper again. "I believe you, Potter. But I have to think of the team, not just one player. We're stronger as a unit with top-of-the-line racing brooms. Of course, if it really bothers you, you can join the reserve team."

"Forget it," said Harry. He would rather remain a spectator than take second-best to Draco Malfoy. He stalked away from Flint without another word, and he could hear the older boy chuckling behind him, obviously taking amusement from Harry's frustration. Harry felt as if he hated him, and tried to console himself with the thought that it was better not to be on a team managed but such a morally despicable captain. But his disappointment was too great, and it was with very heavy feelings that he sank into his seat next to Blaise and Millie.

His friends could read his expression easily, and knew right away that something was wrong. Harry explained in a few words that Malfoy had bought his way onto the team. His friend's abuse of Draco was loud and enthusiastic, reaching its pitch just as the villain himself appeared. Draco had taken his time coming down for breakfast, knowing full well that no morning warm-up would be necessary for him. His position on the team was already secured. He shot Harry a complacent smirk as he settled next to Flint and the other members of the Slytherin team, who were all devouring a hearty breakfast before preparing for their first practice.

"Come on, let's get out of here, Harry," Blaise said, seeing the dark expression on Harry's face as he watched Malfoy with envy, "We'll go visit Hagrid! That'll cheer you up. And I've been wanting to show him Ouroboros. I just know he'll love him."