The Father and the Son
written by Lizzie Scamander
Tiberius Nott's first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has arrived. As the son of the Death Eater Theodore Nott, it will be hard for him to settle in. But maybe he will be able to help others ignore his past and find out, eventually, that the son is not the same as the father. IN PROGRESS
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
14
Reads
855
Quidditch
Chapter 6
Though he kept an attentive eye out for her, Tiberius did not see Maya at all over the next few days. No lessons could distract him, though he found them very interesting, and neither could the incredible features of Hogwarts that his exploration uncovered. Then one morning, as he sat brooding over a bowl of porridge in the Great Hall, the post arrived, and a large barn owl swept over to him, unfortunately landing in his bowl and splattering cream all over him. Frowning at the animal now helping itself to his milk, he took the letter tied to its leg and opened it.
Dear Mr. Nott,
It has been decided that you are accepted into auditioning for a place on the Slytherin Quidditch Team. I congratulate you on this success, but advise you not to spread the word as it might result in jealousy and resentment. The captain of the team, Tyler Smith, wants to meet you on the Quidditch Pitch at 4:00 p.m this afternoon.
Sincerely,
Pr. Wessex
Tiberius felt excitement course through him, and at that moment, completely forgot about Maya. Stuffing the letter into his bag, he turned to anticipating auditioning. What if was terrible? He did have a broomstick at home, and he had practised with Brutus before, who, it turned out, was quite a rough, forceful flyer. But this was a Hogwarts team, where he would play in an audience of the whole school! This prospect actually brought on some nervousness, but he pushed it aside and stood up. He better get on to his lessons if he was to be busy auditioning later that afternoon. But at that moment he saw a girl hurrying toward him from the Hufflepuff table, and he recognised Tamsin Longbottom. Sighing, he bit his lip and waited for her to reach him.
"Hi again Tiberius!" She said brightly.
He was surprised at her casualty. She now knew he was the son of a Death Eater, so what was with her optimism. But he replied, "Uh, yeah, hi Tamsin."
"Enjoying your classes?" She asked, glancing at his bag. He tucked the letter in further and nodded, forcing a smile.
"You?" He asked.
"Of course!" She said. "Charms is my favourite, though I do really like Herbology!"
Tiberius nodded again, then asked, before he could stop himself, "Have you seen Maya lately?"
"Oh, well, um -" for the first time, Tamsin looked awkward. "Erm, yes, I have."
Tiberius's suspicions were confirmed, but he kept the now weakening smile on his face and replied, "Anyway, gotta go, Transfiguration..." He turned, and hurried out of the hall. Obviously Tamsin had seen Maya, and told her about his brother's sneering remarks on her accent. He scowled. How he hated Brutus's attitude sometimes!
Four o'clock arrived much sooner than Tiberius thought it would. Before he had regarded how fast the time had flown, he was trudging down from the castle, feeling nervousness pulse through him and also excitement. The Quidditch Pitch was, unsurprisingly, large, with the huge goalposts and spectator seats. The ground was soft beneath Tiberius's footsteps, with the grass bending to his weight and then springing back up again. There was a group of people gathered, with the Slytherin captain, Tyler Smith, standing before them talking. He was, like most of the players on the Slytherin Quidditch Team, more size than skill. Tiberius doubted his expertise as a player, and felt a bit hesitant going up to him and announcing his wish to audition.
Smith looked down at him with open dubiety. He appeared amused as well. "You sure you know what you're doing?" He asked gruffly.
Tiberius stiffened, annoyed at his rudeness. "Yes," he said. "Professor Wessex herself told me I stood a good chance of -"
"Fine, fine," Smith said, waving a burly hand. "You can try out."
Tiberius walked over to stand beside the other people auditioning. But then he saw Maya. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her eyes were determinedly averted from him. Sighing, he turned to face Smith.
"So," Smith said, rubbing his hands together and eyeing them all. "Let's see how good you play." He jabbed a finger at a rather frightened looking boy standing near Maya. "You go first," he said.
The boy stepped forward. Mounting his broom, he kicked off from the ground. Tiberius knew immediately he was a bad player. He flew awkwardly, and seemed to be clinging desperately to the handle of his broom for dear life. Finally, he landed rather hard, after making two circuits of the pitch.
Smith was smiling meanly.
"Ah well," he said dismissively. He gestured to another person. "Your turn."
The time passed. Tiberius guessed it must be about four thirty now, and he was stiff from standing dully in one place. But then, as the last person to display their flying landed nearby, Smith pointed to Maya. "You go now," he ordered.
Maya stepped forward confidently. Swiftly mounting her broom, she pushed off from the ground and began to fly. Tiberius watched with admiration as she flew like she was part of the broom, the grace of her movements, and the effortless way she steered her broom and completed two circuits of the pitch perfectly. Then she landed lightly and walked back over to take her place.
"Wait - I mean -" Smith seemed to be considering. "Well, you might get a place."
Maya's eyes brightened, and she looked very excited. "Thank vou," she said appreciatively.
Tiberius was sure Smith scoffed when he heard Maya's accented voice, but then he was turning to the next person. He bit his lip.
People kept trying out for another fifteen minutes, but then suddenly Smith was turning to him. "You try," he said, rather contemptuously.
Tiberius was surprised, yet forced himself to step forward. "I - er - haven't got a broom," he said awkwardly.
Smith seemed to sneer at this, but perhaps it was just a trick of light. "Then get one of the school ones," he said.
Tiberius did so angrily - he was beginning to really detest this Quidditch captain. Then, snatching up a broom and marching back over to Smith, he mounted. He felt rather uncertain, but he was going to do this, he was going to prove to this Smith... He took a deep breath, and then kicked off from the ground.
He sailed forward, gaining height rapidly. He looked down, saw that the grassy ground of the pitch was very far away, and looked back up, feeling a sickening plunge in his stomach. The breeze whistled in his ears as he steered the broom around the rim of the pitch, trying to make as smooth a circuit as possible. It was not too hard to fly, but the broom seemed unsteady beneath him, like a frisky horse, and it sometimes proved difficult to control. He counted his second circuit and then began to dip toward the ground in a descent. The ground seemed to be rushing up toward him, and then his feet slammed into solid earth and he staggered upright.
Smith bit his lip. "Well," he said. "The little first year does have something to show - but don't count it as guaranteed!" He added hastily as Tiberius's face lit up. "We've still got other people to try out, and I don't want you to think you've managed it."
But his words still could not puncture the happy feeling inside Tiberius as he moved over to stand next to Maya.
