Draco Malfoy and The Half-Blood Prince (BOOK 6 of 7)

Chapter 7-Tryout Aggressions

Draco's life couldn't be more perfect, seeing as Slytherin had to hold its Quidditch tryouts with Gryffindor due to a slight error in paperwork. He was awkwardly standing ten feet from Potter, who still wasn't over his broken nose. Potter was awkwardly standing next to Weaslette who looked bored as hell. The Gryffindor team was messing around on the pitch while the Slytherin team was busy glaring at either the red-and-golds or at each other.

"If I could have your attention please," Potter started timidly, but it seemed that only Ron Weasley was listening. "If you could all just-" Potter sighed.

"SHUT IT!" Weaslette screeched, catching everyone off guard. Madam Hooch had now approached the two Gryffindor captains. She had been asked by Dumbledore to monitor the tryouts so that the two rival houses didn't kill each other in the spirit of war.

As Hooch explained to both teams how the evening would go, Draco watched as Gryffindor's Cormac McLaggen tried to flirt with Hermione from the field while she was in the bleachers. Rolling his eyes, Draco reached into his left pocket and felt for his fake Sickle.

You look uncomfortable, he sent.

Almost instantly, she replied I am uncomfortable.

He seems like a lovely fellow.

Draco saw Hermione snort as she read his message. I'm sure he's not, she sent back.

Nearly laughing at her pain, Draco turned back to his team, whose eyes were either on Madam Hooch or roaming around.

"I repeat," the riding professor said, "there will be no rough-housing, no foul play, no doing anything that will get you off the field before you can say Quidditch! I turn each team over to your captains now."

"Alright, then," Draco said when he had the Slytherins' attention. "As you can see, I am the only player left from last year's team. And we didn't even get to play last year...or the previous year...so I don't know who we've missed out on. But I will say this: Slytherin is more than capable of being the best team so I will have no less than your full potential out on that pitch. Understood?"

The Slytherin team hopefuls nodded.

"Excellent. Now, separate into the positions you are interested in. Chasers here," he pointed to his left, "Keepers here," he pointed to his front, "and Beaters there," he pointed to his right.

"Excuse me," yelled what looked like a second year, "but what about Seeker?"

Everyone on the pitch, even the Gryffindors, became silent.

"What about Seeker?" Draco shot back, towering over the 12-year-old.

"I've been training for Seeker since I was a wee lad! I think I deserve a fair chance. Besides, there's no one else."

Someone, from which team it was unclear, let out an "Ooh!"

"No one else?" Draco repeated, edging closer and furrowing his eyebrows. How dare that kid suggest that there was no one else? Did he not know that Draco was the best Seeker ever to set foot in Hogwarts?

He reached for his wand when he felt another sensation in his pocket coming from the fake Sickle.

What do you think you're doing, Voldemort? he read from the corner of his eye.

Taken aback by Hermione's boldness, Draco shook himself into reality. He backed up from the second-year, eliciting gasps from the rest of the Quidditch pitch.

"I suggest you try out for Keeper," Draco said. "The position for Seeker was filled five years ago."

The second-year glared at him before joining the other Keeper hopefuls.