The Keeper

Chapter 3

By this point, Sasha's infectious energy had woken up the other three girls in our dorm: Gillian, Aleeza Gilana and Louise Edwards.

"Morning, ladies," Sasha said, opening the curtains with a flourish. Piercing sunlight penetrated the room and I buried my face in my pillow.

"Why are you like this?" Aleeza groaned.

"Sasha, have mercy," Louise added groggily. "I was up past one reading Bleak House. It's so long and I'm very sleep-deprived. Again."

Gillian just pulled her duvet over herself and didn't move, mumbling incomprehensibly.

*

Sasha and her vice captain, Felix, stood proudly in the centre of the pitch. The wind was stronger today - we were in for a challenging trial. The hopeful triallers - about fourteen of us - were standing in a messy line facing Sasha and Felix. We were holding our brooms and some were wearing heavy leather protection.

"All right, everyone!" Sasha said loudly. Any whispers were immediately wiped out. "Thank you all for coming to the trial this year. You'll be competing for the five places we have on the team. I'm a chaser and Felix is a beater. This means that the open spots are for a keeper, one beater, two chasers and a seeker. There's fourteen of you - perfect for two teams. Get in two lines."

I shuffled over to the right. I knew a couple of people in my line from lessons, perhaps. But I didn't know their quidditch ability. Butterflies circled in my stomach and I shivered.

Soon, we were up in the air. My team were wearing white scarves and our opponents black ones. We hovered, waiting for Sasha to throw the quaffle. I looked to my right and saw Oliver grinning at me. He mouthed good luck and I pushed my shoulders back, ready.

"GO!" Sasha cried, throwing the quaffle up.

I dived for it, catching it before rising. I dodged a black-scarf beater and threw the quaffle to a white-scarf chaser, who hurled it past the black-scarf keeper.

Things were going well.

*

It was break time, so technically everyone should've been outside. Yet here we were - fourteen agitated Ravenclaws huddled around our table in the Great Hall. I was tapping my fingers nervously against the hard wood. People were too caught up to talk to each other normally, resorting to self-deprecating rambling.

It was a few more minutes of tension before Sasha and Felix sauntered in, grins plastered on both of their faces.

"This year's team is going to be amazing," Felix declared confidently. "The other houses don't stand a chance."

"Very true," Sasha added. She unrolled a small piece of parchment, glaring at those who tried to sneak a glance. "The players this year are as follows: our keeper is Mahir Yatasal, our beaters are Felix and Felicity Brioso, our seeker is Richard Steer, and our chasers, me, Liam Gwaith and-" Her hazel eyes found mine - "Y/N Y/L/N."

I gasped audibly and felt warmth rising to my cheeks. I was on the team. I was actually on the team!

"I'm very sorry to all those who didn't make it this year," Sasha said. I knew she was genuinely sorry, but her excitement about the team was undeniable. "Remember - there's always next year. Thank you, everyone."

I waited for everyone to leave, either with their head held high or with shuffling feet, before running up to Sasha and squeezing her in a ferocious hug.

"I can't believe it!" I squealed, giggling uncontrollably. "Thank you so, so, so much! I love you!"

"I'm unimaginably happy for you," Sasha replied, rubbing my hair affectionately. "I told you I had confidence in you and Felix knew you had talent the second you caught the first quaffle. I'm actually over the moon!"

I released the poor girl from my iron hug. "You are nothing short of the best."

"I try."

After my excitement had simmered, I went to my special place in the courtyard. I was happily surprised to see Oliver sitting there already, his nose in an autobiography.

"Hello!" I chirped, perching next to him.

Startled, he looked up and lowered his book. Instantly, he beamed in that special way of his. "You got in, didn't you?"

"Possibly," I answered.

"That's brilliant!" Oliver laughed, patting my back. "You played amazingly. Really."

"Thank you."

"Good luck trying to score against Gryffindor, though," he continued, smirking. "I hear they have a fantastic keeper. Impossible to beat."

"I'll keep an eye out," I giggled.

"Anyway, I'm honestly very proud of you," Oliver said quietly. His familiar brown eyes found mine. "I'm glad you're in the team."

I blushed. "Thanks, Oliver. That's very sweet of you."

He paused and sighed. "I've got to run. McGonagall."

"Right. Hurry!"

Laughing, Oliver took his bags and left, waving over his shoulder. When he was out of sight, I released a breath. Oliver really was a lovely person.