Irresistible Fate

Quidditch and several balls-up

At 9.05am Harry strolled onto the Quidditch pitch at school with a spring in his step. He was wearing his old Gryffindor Quidditch kit and carrying his brand new Firebolt XR, it was jet black and glistened in the sunlight like polished Onyx.

'You're late, Professor,' Minerva looked mildly cross. 'And wrong colours.' She flicked her wand as she walked over to meet him and the red and gold transformed into a black.

'Sorry, Minerva.'

'What news?'

'The results are looking positive; it seems Malfoy might just have invented a healing potion.'

'Oh, he has, has he? Well it's good to hear that he's putting those brains of his to good use, that boy could go far. I'm relieved, to say the least. Now, are you good to go? We need to do some serious practicing, Mr Potter.'

They walked across to the rest of the staff team who were huddled in a mix of nervousness and excitement.

'Before we start, Filius, Harry, a shield charm if you please. I don't need the rest of the school watching us fall off our brooms. Then, Harry, please take Thom down to the goals and start practicing.' She leaned close to Harry and whispered, 'and try using some of that charm you used on Mr Weasley back in the sixth year, I believe we might need it.' Harry grimaced, he doubted that Minerva McGonagall realised he had tricked Ron into believing he had taken Felix Felicis potion.

He mounted his broom with a nervous looking Thom beside him and they kicked off. Oh, it felt good to be in the air again. And his new broom felt superb, balanced, responsive, and super-fast. He just heard Minerva saying 'right, I want us to practice the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, it might be our best bet against a younger team' and then he was out of earshot.

Thom was truly terrible, there was no other way to describe it. Oh, he could fly well, superbly even, but every time Harry sent a Quaffle in his direction he would flinch in panic and shut his eyes. As Harry came back from retrieving yet another missed Quaffle, he wondered if 'Felix Felicis' would work as a spell. He muttered it quietly in Thom's direction, just hoping to build his confidence enough to actually face to oncoming balls. It seemed to have a small effect, obviously nowhere near as potent as Slughorn's potion, but at least Thom stopped shutting his eyes when the Quaffle came towards him, though now he either dived the other way or was too late in his reactions to block.

'I can't do this. I shouldn't have volunteered; I didn't know how serious it was going to be.' He complained after Harry came back from fetching another missed Quaffle.

'Look, you can, you've just got to keep bloody practicing. We can put in some extra practice after lessons or if we've both got times together when we're not teaching. You need to watch the Quaffle, take your time, and believe in your instincts. Isn't that what you do with Divination too?'

'Yes, but this is all so fast, I don't have time.'

'Right, well, we'll start slowly.' And Harry lazily tossed the Quaffle at Thom, who caught it and grinned widely.

'So more of that until your responses become fucking instinctual.'

Harry could see McGonagall watching with narrowed eyes. This was going to be a long two weeks. By the close of practice, Thom was, at least, a bit more assured in his catches and blocking and the team came together for a full team run around. Harry was impressed with how the chasers pulled together in their attack with McGonagall leading. Shit, he thought, she is impressive as she bore down on Thom with the Quaffle in hand and belted it through one of the hoops. Flitwick seemed to be thriving under the discipline, and Thaddeus was excellent too. Harry had also seen Rolanda and Lyle practice the Dopplebeater Defence and when Rolanda did a Bludger Backbeat in his direction it was his turn to grin widely. They might just be alright. So long as Thom could improve, he thought grimly.