The Next Generation and the Followers of Darkness

As soon as Melody had gotten out of Transfiguration on Friday afternoon, she had dashed down to the Quidditch pitch. Rose, Albus, and the rest of the first years were right behind her. They trampled down staircases and hallways, through the entrance hall, and across the sloping lawns toward the stadium, where the three hoops on either end towered above it all. Out of breath after making their mad sprint out of the entrance hall, they had to stop about halfway there, all breathing raggedly and clutching their sides. Gianna McIntosh nearly keeled over onto the ground.

"Remind — me — again — why — we're — running?" she wheezed. After a small pause, her breathing evened out. "Tryouts don't start until four thirty. We're nearly an hour and a half early. What's with the rush?"

"Because we all agreed to make an effort to 'bond' before they begin," sputtered Kyler Dorval, who was now sprawled out in the grass, his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply. "And since were all stuck with each other for the next seven years, it might be nice if we were friends."

They tried to laugh, but all that did was make them wheeze more. There was a small pause in which they all settled down on the lawn, lying out on their backs.

"So explain Quidditch to me," Carter Quick said for probably the tenth time that day. Everyone else groaned, but they couldn't help smirking. "I know what you're all going to say — 'We've told you already!' — but I'm just trying to make sure I understand before the season starts. Come on. Help a mate out."

Carter was a Muggleborn — the only Muggleborn first year in Gryffindor. The boy was extremely nervous, which was perfectly all right considering that he'd probably had no past knowledge that he was a wizard until the very day he had received his letter by owl post, inviting him to Hogwarts. He had become good friends with Melody, who lived in the midst of Muggle London and understood a lot of what he was saying.

As Albus, Kyler, Matthew Thomas, and Tyson Spinnet described the game to Carter, the five girls looked up at the sky. It looked about to burst with rain once again. Dark grey clouds rolled across the blue, casting shadows on the grounds. Quidditch tryouts had been planned for Saturday, but the undesirable weather had pushed Michael Rainsford, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, to move them to Friday afternoon before the storm broke. It was a smart move, as lightning flashed in the distance and thunder cracked.

"Okay," said Matthew as they finished explaining Quidditch again. He sat up. "We promised to bond, but some of us hardly know each other. Why don't we sit in a circle and say our names and something about ourselves."

Thinking it was a good idea, the rest of them sat upright and shifted so they all were sitting a lopsided oval.

"I'll go first," the dark-skinned boy continued. "My name is Matthew Thomas, and I am rubbish at flying on a broomstick."

"All right," said Kyler from his right. "I'm Kyler Dorval, and I am the oldest kid in my family."

"Gianna McIntosh — terrified of vampires."

"Isabella Dawson — my parents own a shop in Diagon Alley."

"Lissa Groves — born in France."

"Albus Potter — son of an Auror."

"Rose Weasley — yes, my hair looks like this naturally."

"Melody Smith — I live in a flat in Muggle London."

"Carter Quick — the most confused and curious out of all of us."

"And I'm Tyson Spinnet — quiet and I don't really like talking in front of people."

After the introductions, there was another pause. None of them knew what else to do. In an unspoken agreement, all ten of them got to their feet and started off in the direction of the pitch again. They chattered all at once about who they expected to show up and who would make the team.

"I reckon Edward Pendleton — the prefect — to come," stated Kyler above the babble. Melody rolled her eyes. He seemed to think that his opinion was the only one that mattered. Still, she listened for his reasoning. "He's got a Nimbus Two Thousand up on his dormitory, and he's as tall as a troll. If I was Captain, I'd want him as a Beater or Keeper."

"But you have think about the future of the team," Carter argued. Despite his background, he could use his knowledge of Muggle sports to make judgements about Quidditch. "Pendleton's a seventh year, right? He'll be gone next year so the Captain should want someone who'll be coming back —"

"Not if he's changing the team every year," Rose cut in. "Rainsford said he wants a completely new team. No one who was on it last year has a guaranteed spot."

"That's not fair!" said Lissa. "Some of them have worked their arses off to get on the House Quidditch team, and now they have to tryout again to play this year. How can he do that to people?"

"Because Rainsford is an arse," snapped Albus. "I overheard him talking about how horrible the team was the past few years. Only won the Quidditch Cup once in five years. He plans on putting together his 'dream team.'" Albus tried to imitate an American accent, but failed miserably.

"Been spending too much time around Americans, that one," growled Tyson.

"His family trip to the United States would explain that," said Isabella as they reached the stadium.

The stands were elevated into the air as to allow the spectators to see what was going on. They climbed the steps up to where the seats were, making their way to the top row. The wooden platforms where people walked along to reach the seats creaked slightly underfoot.

"He just became obsessed with their Muggle culture," Isabella continued. "Hardly practiced at all over summer."

"And how would you know that?"

They had been climbing into the stands when a voice behind them made them all jump about a foot in the air. Melody spun around just like the rest of them.

"And how would you know that, Dawson?" repeated Michael Rainsford, seizing Isabella's wrist. The other girls tensed up as the boys clenched their fists. Rainsford's dark brown eyes glowered down at Isabella as he stood there, waiting for an answer.

He seemed ready to judge tryouts. The scarlet Quidditch robes he wore would distinguish him from the other students at the tryouts, who would just be wearing the plain black school robes. In addition, he had a shiny silver whistle around his neck and clipboard in his other hand.

Isabella glared up at the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

"You should be more careful when you talk to people," she muttered, barely a whisper. Her eyes narrowed even more. "You never know who's listening. And I'm not just talking about now."

Other Gryffindors were beginning to arrive for the tryouts. With one last scowl at Isabella and the first years, Rainsford released her and snatched up his Cleansweep Eleven from the bottom row of seats. Rather than walking down to the field, he pushed off hard from the wood platform and flew into the air, zooming about above the heads of the students below. Some elder students had taken seats around the stadium as well. Rainsford hung in midair near a group of fourth year girls, winking at them. They moved away, one girl yelling, "Sod off, Rainsford!"

Melody sat down between Albus and Rose. The three of them watched as Rainsford continued to zigzag across the field, surveying the new recruits. Joining the little group massing on the field was Roxanne Weasley, a beautiful Nimbus Two Thousand and One over her shoulder. Following closely behind her, James and Oliver strode over to the group. James, luckily enough, had a Firebolt. The others eyed it enviously, some even throwing dirty looks the Potter boy's way. But Oliver stood with the Smith family broomstick behind his back. Melody really couldn't criticize. The old Comet Two Sixty was a good broom, but not in comparison to all the Nimbus models here. He would be easily passed up flying that.

James caught sight of all the first years in the stands, and he nudged Oliver with his elbow, pointing up to where the youngest Gryffindors were sitting. Melody waved at her elder brother, trying to lift his spirits. From the way things looked, he was going to need it. As Kyler had predicted, Edward showed up — fuming. His broomstick, a Cleansweep Eleven like Rainsford's, was in hand as he walked on the field and glared up at the Quidditch Captain's silhouette, outlined by the thunderclouds above.

"Oi, Rainsford!" he shouted. "Let's hurry up these stupid tryouts before we all get struck by lightning!"

Hesitating at first, Rainsford consented to flying lower to hover just above the group on the field. He didn't seem to like being told what to do, but, as Edward was a prefect and the storm in the distance was rolling closer, he did as he was told.

"All right," he barked. "Separate into four groups so I can see who wants to tryout for what. Keepers— in front of me to my right. Chasers — in front of me to my left. Beaters — behind, to my right. Seekers — behind, to my left."

There was a short scramble on the field as everyone made a mad dash for the spots he had indicated. Kyler grinned smugly as Edward headed for the Beater group. Oliver, Melody noted, had not gone for Chaser as she had guessed. Instead, he, too, stumbled off to where the Beaters were to stand. Only Edward and two other boys stood there — all of them about three times larger than her brother. Another surprise was when James decided to tryout for Keeper rather than Seeker. He was Harry Potter's son, and, even if he hadn't defeated Voldemort, the Wizarding hero would have been famous just for his skills on a broomstick. He had been a natural-born Seeker and had joined the Gryffindor team during his first year. This had not been done in —

Melody shook her head. She needed to stop herself from being the well of information that threatened to overflow at times. Again, she tried to clear her head and forget Harry Potter for now. Her friends were right in front of her. It didn't matter that they were the children of great wizards and witches. She focused her attention on Rainsford — despite how much he annoyed her already.

"I'd like to see what the Keepers can do first," he announced from the air. "Mount your brooms and meet me by the hoops. Roxanne, would you mind helping me?"

"Only if you allow me a spot on the team," she snapped.

Rainsford laughed and landed on the grass beside a small box equidistant from the four groups. Nonetheless, Roxanne walked over from the Chaser spot, scowling.

"Now," Rainsford continued, bending down to open the box. Inside were four balls of different size. "I'm going to assume that anyone who is trying out has a least a general idea of how to play Quidditch. If you don't, I haven't got the time to teach you, so get out now."

No one budged.

"Then I better not be terribly disappointed later."

Melody couldn't help despising the Quidditch Captain. He was so degrading and full of himself, she was surprised that the other students put up with him. But if she decided to tryout for the team, Melody determined that she would endure his attitude for the sake of her tryout.

She had been so caught up in her thoughts that Melody hadn't noticed Rainsford take off toward the hoops, Roxanne and those wishing to be Keepers right behind him. Realizing he would need more than one person to be a Chaser, he called for the people in that group to come as well.

But he needed all the positions on the team filled for it to be an effective tryout, so Rainsford decided for everyone to join him in the air. He was acting like an idiot. He split them into two subdivisions, and released the Bludgers and Golden Snitch. The two black balls zoomed about the stadium while the Snitch disappeared somewhere above them. It moved too fast for any average person to see it.

Oliver had been given a Beater's bat and was teamed up with a sixth year boy Melody didn't know. She watched as the two of them flew from one end to the other, hitting Bludgers away from the people on their "team." He hit another one quite hard as it came right at him, making a loud CRACK and causing the Bludger to fly off across the pitch. Melody gave him a thumbs up, but he went to block a Chaser from the other ball without looking at her.

Oliver passed by the goal posts, and Melody shifted her focus to James. Now that she knew how good her brother was, she didn't need to worry about his chances. And James was a great Keeper. He seemed to be natural on a broom. He swooped from hoop to hoop, batting and kicking away every attempt to score. Albus and Rose cheered every time he stopped a shot, and James ego seemed to soar. Even Roxanne, obviously the best Chaser, couldn't get the Quaffle past him.

In addition to those trying out to be Beaters, Keepers, and Chasers, two people were going for Seeker. One, a fourth year boy riding a Comet Two Ninety — which wasn't much better than Oliver's broomstick — kept darting from one end of the pitch to the other, just above the top row of the stands, staring about below him for the Snitch. The other, a sixth year girl on a Cleansweep Seven, was hardly a speck in the sky, moving every once and a while.

She suddenly dove down toward the ground, almost colliding with the fourth year, and pulled up about ten feet from the ground — the Snitch trying to escape her grasp. The spectators burst into cheers at this incredible catch.

But this didn't help Oliver at all. A Bludger flew straight at him and — as he was distracted by the applause and whistles — hit him on the side of the head. Luckily, he was only a few feet from the ground at the time as he toppled right off his broomstick.

Melody had leapt to her feet as soon as she saw the Bludger heading in his direction. Now, she was running down the stairs, taking them two at a time. By the time she sprinted out onto the field, Rainsford had landed by Oliver, who was out cold. The Quidditch Captain didn't do anything as she came skidding to a halt beside her brother.

"Bloody idiot," grumbled Rainsford. "He should've seen that Bludger coming."

Melody ignored him best she could, jumping up and down and reaching for the Comet Two Sixty, which was still hanging in the air where Oliver had been sitting. Finally, her hand grasped the handle, and she pulled it back down to earth before she knelt over Oliver, carefully studying the place where the Bludger had struck him.

"He definitely won't be making the team after that performance," said Rainsford. "That was one of the stupidest things I've ever seen — and I can say because I'm a Beater —"

SMACK!

There was a collective gasp from the spectators and Gryffindors who had landed back on the grass. Rainsford stumbled backward, his hand to his cheek, which was reddening quickly. He gawked at Melody who had never been so angry as to cause her to slap someone. There had been close calls, such as the incident with Scorpius, but never in her life had she actually smacked someone on the face.

"Smith — I'm reporting you to Professor Longbottom!" roared Rainsford, but he didn't seem to sure of himself now.

"Don't you dare insult my brother!" she screamed. "I'm finished with him and I being picked on because of Amelia and Jeremy. And I don't really care if you tell Longbottom what I did. I've already got one detention."

"Miss Smith, please calm down!"

As if called from the castle by the sound of his name, Professor Longbottom came onto the field, his eyebrows raised. All the rage and fearlessness Melody had felt a moment or two early drained away.

I can't get another detention, she thought. Mum'll kill me!

Her knees shook as he stalked closer. The teacher looked more surprised than upset, but his calm demeanor always seemed to hide more extreme emotions. When he reached Melody, Rainsford, and Oliver's now-moaning body, he crossed his arms across his chest, glaring down at them. Melody gulped, half-expecting Longbottom to explode in fury.

"Please explain what had happened, Mr. Rainsford," he said calmly, nodding once to the Quidditch Captain.

"As you know, sir, Quidditch team tryouts are today," began Rainsford, attempting to draw out his side of the story — probably to think up some excuse, "and Oliver Smith was going for the position of Beater. Melody Smith, here, was sitting in the stands — up there" — he pointed to where the other Gryffindor first years were still seated, craning their necks to get a view of what was happening down on the field — "with her friends. A Bludger came flying toward Oliver, who failed to bat it away. He was hit in the side of the head and fell off his Comet. Melody ran down from where she was sitting, took her brother's broom out of the air, and smacked me for no particular reason —"

"That is not true, sir!" Melody burst out. Her anger was boiling over as she scowled at Rainsford. "He —"

"Please wait, Miss Smith. Allow Mr. Rainsford to finish his side of the story," Longbottom said, interrupting her argument. He fixed her with a hard stare.

She shut her mouth instantly.

"Continue." He looked back at Rainsford.

"As I was saying . . ." he said, "she slapped me for some reason unknown to me. Then, she proceeded to yell at me just as you arrived at the pitch."

Rainsford looked down at his feet, rubbing his left cheek gingerly. Melody suppressed a grin.

"Now you may speak, Miss Smith," said Longbottom. She tried desperately not to glower at him.

"I had come to watch the tryouts because Oliver and my friend, James Potter, were going for the team," said Melody. "Everything was going fine until Oliver was distracted by an amazing catch by that sixth year over there — I don't know her name — she was trying out for Seeker. Everyone here was in complete awe of what she'd done. A Bludger hit him in the head, and I ran down onto the field to make sure he was all right. He's my brother, sir. I'm naturally worried about him. When I got down here, Rainsford was insulting him for not seeing the Bludger. I have no excuse for slapping him."

Professor Longbottom did not respond for a moment. Melody swallowed again, terrified at what kind of punishment she would receive. He shifted his jaw.

"Miss Smith — Mr. Rainsford — come with me," said Longbottom. Then he added to the rest of the stadium, "Tryouts are over. Mr. Rainsford and I will pick positions based on what we have seen. The first game against Slytherin is in November, so we will have the results for you by this Friday."

At that, Rainsford tensed up. Melody couldn't help smiling before wiping it off her face. Professor Longbottom had seen everything: the altercation between Rainsford and Isabella, the tryouts, the slap Melody had dealt to the Gryffindor fifth year. He had also heard all the things Rainsford had said . . . but would that be enough to justify Melody's outburst?

Professor Longbottom took out his wand and waved it. A stretcher appeared out of thin air below Oliver and began to levitate. With Oliver floating along behind him, the Herbology professor walked out of the stadium, Melody and Rainsford following in silence. She looked back once at her friends, who had came down onto the field and stared after her now. Drops of rain began to fall as they trudged away from the pitch.

Longbottom lead them across the grounds. His head was cocked to the side, trying to hear what Oliver was murmuring under his breath. Melody walked along beside the stretcher, watching Oliver's mouth move, saying inaudible words quite quickly; she chewed her fingernails as his hands twitched slightly.

Professor Longbottom was silent as they hurried into the castle, up the marble staircase, and down the corridor toward the hospital wing. It was lucky they met Madam Heiler right outside the door.

"Good heavens!" she cried at the sight of Oliver on the gurney, noting Rainsford's red Gryffindor Quidditch robes. "What happened?"

"Took a Bludger to the head, ma'am," Rainsford explained quickly. "During Quidditch tryouts."

"I'll take him from here, Neville," said Madam Heiler, returning to the hospital wing with Oliver in tow.

Professor Longbottom took off down the hall again as soon as the door had closed. All three of them arrived in his office two minutes later. Longbottom did not shut the door, but took a seat behind his desk. Melody had a fleeting memory of sitting in Mr. Witt's office, getting a detention.

"We will discuss your punishments separately," said Longbottom. "Miss Smith, please wait outside until you are called. Shut the door behind you."

Melody shook uncontrollably as she closed the door. Sliding to the floor in the ground floor corridor, her face fell into her hands. Her mother's words rang in her ears.

" . . . THE BOTH OF YOU WILL BE GROUNDED ALL NEXT SUMMER!"

Surely Oliver couldn't be punished by their mother for this. He had had nothing to do with it. Still, their mum wasn't always the most understanding witch, despite her emotional side. The Howler had proven that.

After five minutes, Melody was just staring off into space, not thinking of anything, when the door opened and Rainsford marched out. He shot a hateful look a Melody before stomping off up the corridor, his footsteps echoing like the thunder outside. Lightning flashed outside, momentarily elongating his shadow as he stalked down the hall. He disappeared around a corner, and Melody dreaded meeting him again in Gryffindor Tower later that day.

"Miss Smith?"

Professor Longbottom called for her to enter the office. She sat down in a plush armchair, her eyes darting about the room. She guessed that it was acceptable for the room to look like a smaller version of Gryffindor Tower, as Longbottom was the head of Gryffindor House. A fire roared in the hearth, heating the office, as the rain had caused an icy chill to fall upon the castle and its inhabitants. Both Longbottom and Melody's chairs were red armchairs with a couple pillows on them. The professor smiled at her.

"I expect that the castle is beginning to feel like home now, Melody?" he said. Melody nodded. "I wasn't as sure when I started here at Hogwarts. It took me a while, but I found it quite lovely eventually —"

"Excuse me, professor," interrupted Melody, turning red out of embarrassment. "But didn't you call me in to discuss my punishment? I would like to see how my brother is doing."

"Yes, yes," said Longbottom. "I see you have a tendency to get to the point. That's not a bad trait. . . . Sorry, I'm getting off subject again, aren't I? Anyway, I got word from Mr. Witt that you already have a detention for 'tarnishing the castle floors.' That was during the storms of the first week? Well, I do not personally believe that was something you should be punished for. As a result, the detention he gave you will be punishment enough for this. I will send you a note when you are to serve it. And I will not be alerting Professor McGonagall about this, in case you were wondering."

Melody's heart soared. Her mother would not be finding out about this, and it wasn't going on her school record.

"Thank you, sir," she said, standing to leave. She had opened the door when he spoke to her again.

"By the way, Melody," grinned Longbottom, "I don't blame you one bit for what you did. Michael has had that coming for a while. He needed that. He can be a real arse when he wants to, eh?"

~~~~~

Melody spent the remainder of the day sitting in the hospital wing, completing homework. No one came to bother her, as visitors were restricted to family only until Oliver woke up. Neither Amelia or Jeremy dropped by. Oliver was expected to be up and about on Monday. The Bludger had made direct contact with his head and he was out cold still, but not moaning or muttering.

While she sat there, Melody decided to write their mother about the Bludger incident. She would, of course, leave out the part where she smacked Michael Rainsford.

~
Dear Mum,
There was an incident this morning during Quidditch tryouts, in which Oliver was hit on the side of the head by a Bludger. He has been knocked out since then, but Madam Heiler expects him to be perfectly fine by Monday. Don't worry, he's all right, I've been watching over him since the accident.
How are you? I've been staying out of trouble and made loads of friends already. I can't wait for the Christmas holidays.
I'll be sure to write you if anything happens.
Love you,
Melody
~

She tucked the short letter into her book, planned to take it up the Owlery later, and stood to go back up to Gryffindor Tower for the night. Although she hadn't had lunch, dinner didn't seem too tempting at the moment. But as she tucked her books and parchment back into her bag, Albus and Rose came running into the room, looking excited.

"The ghosts are going to announce their plans at the beginning of dinner tonight," Rose grinned.

"What plans?" Melody asked. And while she was glad to see someone after her day of watching Oliver in hospital wing, she wasn't sure she wanted to embrace the whole school quite yet.

"No one knows yet," explained Albus. "Everyone's gathering in the Great Hall right now. We just thought you might be curious."

"Um — I guess so —" said Melody.

Rose grabbed her arm and pulled her off before she could finish her sentence. Melody's bag swinging forward and back as they pelted down to the Great Hall, not even bothering to stop when they reached the doors. Other students were scurrying inside, moving out of the way as Melody, Rose, and Albus darted past. The three of them fell into their seats, panting, at their usual spot in the Great Hall. Victoire raised an eyebrow and Edward grinned. James leaned across the table to talk to Melody.

"How's Oliver?" he whispered. "Madam Heiler wouldn't let me in to see him. I haven't seen you all day, so I assumed you were in the hospital wing."

"I have," Melody said. "And he's supposed to be all right by Monday, so no need to worry."

"Great . . ." James trailed off, settling back into his seat. Then he leaned forward again, and added, "How about you? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"That was quite a slap you gave Rainsford. Scared me a bit. Longbottom wasn't too harsh, was he?"

"No. My 'punishment' is the one I got from Witt."

"Good."

Melody smiled. Even when Oliver was hurt, James was talking to her. It wasn't as if James was putting up with her when her brother was around — he was an actual friend to Melody. She was about to ask what had ensued after Longbottom, Rainsford, and her had left, but Sir Nicholas had floated over to stand in front of the High Table beside the Bloody Baron, the Fat Friar, and the Grey Lady.

"The ghosts of Hogwarts have made a decision as to what shall be our gift to you this year," said the Bloody Baron, the resident ghost of Slytherin House, his raspy voice echoing in the dead quiet hall.

"We shall hold a masquerade ball on Halloween night for students in the fourth through seventh year," continued the Fat Friar. "Of course, younger students are allowed if they are asked by an older student."

"First, second, and third years — there will be a special feast specifically for you the evening before," the Grey Lady said, reassuring the disappointed young faces at each table.

"More details will be given to you as the date approaches," finished Sir Nicholas.

And with that, the ghosts left the Great Hall, their pearly white backsides disappearing through the wall to Melody's left.

The hall exploded into excited conversations. Melody, Rose, and Albus looked at each other, ecstatic about all the things that would happen soon.

"A lot is going to happen in the next few months," said Rose.

"Gosh, the teachers are going to have a hard time keeping our attention on school work," beamed Melody.

"A feast, a ball, and the first Quidditch game of the season," Albus muttered. He looked up at the girls, his green eyes alight with excitement. "I can hardly wait."