It's the taking part that counts, right.
Harry, scowling, drove them off to sit on the stands far away.
What a bunch of troublemakers, seriously!
The fifth group… turned out to be all Hufflepuff students.
If Cedric hadn't graduated, Harry would've really loved to tease this old friend and Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain properly.
See? This is your Hufflepuff for you, nothing but traitors!
Harry, in a foul mood, chased this pack of disruptive Hufflepuffs, plus a handful of Ravenclaws, off the pitch, then finally started selecting Chasers.
Two hours later, after listening to an endless stream of complaints, watching several people lose their tempers, one of them smashing a Comet 260, and someone else getting a few teeth knocked out, Harry at last picked his three Chasers: Katie Bell, who performed brilliantly and rejoined the team; a newcomer called Demirza Robbins, who was particularly nimble at dodging Wandering Balls; and Ginny Weasley, who flew faster than everyone else and scored seventeen goals.
Harry was very satisfied with the people he'd chosen, but his voice was hoarse from constantly yelling back at all the whiners, and now he had to deal with the complaints from the rejected Batters.
His voice wasn't just hoarse, it even cracked when he tried to say more than a couple of sentences; he kept gulping down cold water, but nothing brought it back.
Right now he was regretting it, deeply, deeply regretting it.
If he'd known this job was this much of a grind, why on earth did he agree to become Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain in the first place?
Sitting not far away, Annie watched and smiled faintly, eyes lowered.
"I bet," Annie tucked her hair behind her ear and said to Hermione, "Harry would rather face dozens of Giants than all these classmates."
"Why?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Because with these classmates, all he can do is yell—and they don't necessarily listen to his yelling," Annie said with a bright smile.
As for the rest, she didn't say it out loud.
Next up were the Batters.
Girls weren't very interested in the Batter position.
And Harry could only pick the tallest dwarfs; the two Batters he chose weren't as outstanding as Fred and George, but were still acceptable: Jimmy Peakes, a broad-chested, short third-year whose powerful hit with a Wandering Ball raised an egg-sized lump on the back of Ron's head; Richie Gutt, who looked frail and weak, but had excellent aim.
The two of them were now sitting in the stands with the spectators, watching Harry choose their last teammate.
Next was the Goalkeeper.
Ron now was very different from previous years; he was brimming with confidence.
And his skill matched that confidence: he absolutely crushed Cormac MacLagan underfoot with a dominant performance.
"I knew you could do it!"
As soon as Ron won, Hermione rushed over happily and flung herself into his arms.
Ron flailed his hands, patted Hermione on the back, then, meeting McLagan's inexplicable anger, gave him a little grin.
That just made McLagan even angrier; he glared fiercely at Ron, then turned on his heel and left.
"You know?" Annie stood by Harry, speaking very softly, "that McLagan, he likes Hermione."
"Huh?" Harry stared wide-eyed at Annie.
"Yes." Annie nodded to Harry. "You really didn't notice? The way he looks at Hermione—trust a woman's intuition."
Harry felt this gossip was huge.
"How did you figure that out?" he asked, curious.
"Intuition." Annie narrowed her eyes and nodded to herself. "Trust my intuition, Harry, I haven't been wrong yet—"
"Go get Hermione out of here," Harry said sharply. "I need to talk to Ron about this… it's crucial!"
"Hey." Annie said, "Don't tell him it was me who told you, okay?"
"Yeah, I know." Harry nodded.
Once Annie had gone to Hermione, leading her off to the side chatting and laughing, Harry dragged Ron away toward the edge of the pitch.
"What's up?" Ron was a bit lost. "You look so worked up—is something wrong?"
"Of course." Harry said, worried. "You know what? Annie just told me she's figured out that McLagan likes Hermione—"
To win Ron's trust, Harry didn't hesitate to sell Annie out.
"What?!" Ron let out a howl.
"Calm down." Harry turned and glanced at the classmates whose attention Ron's shout had attracted. "Keep your voice down—what if Hermione hears you?"
"No way." Ron scratched his face. "I've got to make Hermione stay away from him, what's with that guy…"
"Okay, Ron, you need to calm down." Harry patted his shoulder. "Let me set the time for everyone first, all right? I have to fix a time for team practice, don't you think? We're a completely new Quidditch Team, after all."
"Fine." Ron nodded irritably.
Harry arranged their first full-team training for next Tuesday, then left the Quidditch Pitch.
"I'm actually kind of hungry."
On the way back to the Great Hall, Harry rubbed his stomach.
Ron and Hermione, though, seemed to be mad at each other again; neither of them spoke, playing a game of freeze tag with their expressions.
"What's with those two now?" Harry asked Annie curiously.
"Oh, I know." Ginny suddenly cut in, "My big fat-brained brother told Hermione to stay away from some guy—ha, who does he think he is, what right does he have to order her around?"
"Ginny!" Ron turned back and glared at Ginny.
But Ginny just made a face at him and ran off.
Harry could hear what Ginny was really saying—Ron and Hermione hadn't even defined their relationship yet, so he really didn't have much right to tell her to stay away from McLagan.
In what capacity exactly are you talking to her?
"Teenagers…" Annie shook her head and sighed helplessly. "I'm going to go see Sebastian in a bit, want to come?"
"I'll pass." Harry waved his hand. "I'm afraid if Sebastian sees me he won't be able to control his emotions again."
Hearing this, Annie pressed the back of her hand lightly to her lips and smiled gently.
Of course she knew how much her brother currently hated this "Scarhead Enchantress" Harry; Annie had no doubt that if her brother could come back to life, the first thing he'd do would be to tear Harry limb from limb.
But that was just talk; Sebastian only opposed Harry verbally. In reality he also thought Harry was reliable enough—at least Annie wouldn't be wronged.
What Harry hadn't expected was that the cold war between Ron and Hermione kept dragging on.
And every time Ron took out the Half-Blood Prince textbook, Hermione's expression turned even colder.
Harry had thought about trying to persuade them, but every time he started, Ron would immediately change the subject, and Hermione would simply turn away and leave.
"Can't we think of something?" Harry felt this couldn't go on.
"With this kind of thing, you'd better not get involved." Ginny told Harry. "Trust me, Harry—you might be my brother's best mate, but you don't know him like I do… If you step in, you'll only make it worse. Just leave him to figure things out on his own."
"But it still feels wrong to just do nothing." Harry said hesitantly.
"Then find something else to do." Ginny said, curling her lip.
Harry had to admit she had a point. It was their business, after all, and he, as the mutual friend stuck between them, was basically a mouse stuck in a bellows—getting it from both sides.
Forget it.
If he couldn't fix it, then he just wouldn't.
As soon as that thought took hold, he suddenly felt like the whole world had opened up and become wide and spacious.