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Chapter 6: Fifty Golden Snitches

The Department of Magical Games and Sports was frantic.

Harry stepped into the usually placid atmosphere of the office, only to see all his co-workers fretting about. He even spotted Ludo Bagman looking a little distressed.

" Harry!" Sinclair Abbot, Ludo's secretary, came rushing over, nearly trodding on the hem of her robes in her haste. " We've got a … erm, situation."

" What happened?"

" Well I'm sure you've heard about Pride of Portree losing their Seeker."

Harry recalled the article he'd read the previous day and was suddenly relieved he had decided to go up to that bulletin board that day. He didn't even have to feign knowledge when he nodded.

Sinclair continued, now talking very quickly. " Well, the Department has agreed to help Portree file resumes of the … hopefuls. You know, the replacements. Unfortunately, Quidditch season begins –,"

" In four months," Harry interrupted.

" That's right, and they need a Seeker almost right away. So the interviews are today and …"

Sinclair suddenly grew quiet, and Harry frowned. " And what? I can handle helping out with this … interview process."

Ludo's secretary cleared her throat and shifted her eyes. " Well, you don't exactly need to help out, Harry."

" I don't?" Harry looked around the office, where everyone else was organizing desks and clearing space. His frown grew deeper. " What are you on about, Sinclair?"

" Ludo told me to tell you, Harry. He wants you in charge of the whole process."

* * * * *

Harry had been placed at the end of the table, beside Ludo Bagman. They, and the other Department workers sitting at the table, hastily marked their interview parchments as they tore their eyes off what seemed to be the two-hundredth prospective Seeker they'd interviewed that day.

" We'll let you know. Thank you!" Bagman waved towards the door jovially, smiling. Harry, however, noticed a significant drop of energy in his booming voice.

When the interviewee left them, Bagman stood up. " Well, I suggest we wrap it up for today. I'd say we've gotten a lot done, eh?"

Harry dropped his quill on the table and looked at the tip of his ink-stained hands. Sinclair collected the papers in a green folder, yawning heavily.

* * * * *

" Four years, mate. Four years I've been a Seeker, and I'll say it here that I'm a damn good one too."

Ron and Hermione blinked.

" That was only about the six-hundredth person we'd interviewed that day," said Harry to finish up his imitation of a particularly burly prospective Seeker he'd encountered that day. "And naturally, we'd heard pretty much the same thing from hundreds of other people." He brought his fork to his mouth and bit off his carrots.

The interview process had worn him out, and now his throat was sore.

" That's stupid," said Ron, reaching for the bowl of mashed potatoes. " The Ministry should just bring the whole lot of them onto the pitch, release a Snitch, and the first one to get it should get the job."

Hermione stopped eating, looked at Ron thoughtfully, and said. " That's not a bad idea."

Ron beamed.

" Well, we're gonna put them out on the pitch at the end of the week," said Harry. " But it'll be tedious. We're checking for good flying skills and physical strength."

"Basically to test if your interviewees weren't bullshitting when they bragged about their talent," piped Ron. Hermione scowled in his general direction.

" The both of you can come watch if you'd like," Harry said quickly.

Hermione speared her potatoes and looked at him. " Are you allowed to invite us like that?"

Harry nodded. " Ludo's put me in charge of the whole process. Besides, you won't hurt anyone. Maybe Ron might get aggressive, but …"

" Pride of Portree has been the Cannon's second-biggest rival since 1807!" Ron exclaimed, abandoning his meal. " Too right, I might get aggressive."

" Are you coming?" Harry asked him hopefully.

" Yeah." Ron nodded quickly and shoved a chunk of potatoes into his mouth.

Harry turned to Hermione. "How about you?"

" I can't," she replied quickly. " I've got to work."

Ron raised an eyebrow. " Oh, take off a day – mind you, it won't kill you to take a break once in a while."

Hermione pursed her lips. " I'll talk to my boss."

And there was no changing Hermione's mind when she pursed her lips.

* * * * *

Hermione arrived outside the Ministry building the next day, where the Knight Bus was parked out front. Harry, who had come earlier to get the trip organized, was waiting for her.

They joined Harry's co-workers who were loading the bus already. Hermione adjusted her heavy bag, as it was mildly discomforting the way its straps cut into her shoulder.

Harry allowed her to step onto the bus before him, and saw the pained look on her face. He pointed his wand at her bag and muttered, " Levace."

" Thank you," she said, and hopped up the stairs before he could ask her why she was carrying such a heavy load.

The Knight Bus looked quite different from when Harry last rode it, back when he was 13 and he'd run away from his house after blowing up his aunt. The beds that had lined the sides of the interior were gone. Towards the front of the bus was an array of loveseats, placed neatly in a circular form. There was an unused fireplace behind the driver's seat. The spiral staircase, Harry saw, remained.

Hermione stepped towards the rear of the bus, where Harry saw three round tables with chairs scattered around what he supposed was a kitchen.

Harry sat down at one of the tables next to Hermione.

" Where's Ron?" he asked quickly before she could whip out a book and immerse herself in it.

" He'll be here, I'm sure. I told him we'd be late, but he told me he couldn't find his other sock. I said I had half a mind to leave the flat without him and he told me to do just that."

" Okay," Harry replied.

Ludo hopped onto the bus. Despite the fact that it was 7:00 in the morning, he was quite exuberant.

" Alright ladies and lasses," he boomed. " We're ready to leave. Nobody's forgotten anything, have they?"

Hermione gasped. "Oh, no. I shouldn't have left without Ron!"

The engine of the Knight Bus roared to life, and the driver, who was still Ernie, reach for the handle to close the door.

Suddenly, Harry spotted the top of Ron's head through the window, then heard his large feet clunking up the bus steps.

His hair was slightly disheveled, but otherwise, he looked fine. He approached Harry and Hermione as the doors of the bus hissed and closed.

" You'd better hold onto something," Harry advised.

" Huh?"

BANG!

* * * * *

The moor the bus popped into was completely deserted, not unlike the one Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been to for the World Cup they'd attended before their fourth year.

Summer had swept its arid flavor over the ground, and light green grass spread like wildfire for acres.

Supposedly, the Quidditch stadium was quite magnificent. Hermione did not neglect to give a small history of it as the Knight Bus rolled and bumped through the countryside.

" Built in 1292," she said, to not just Harry and Ron, but anybody who'd listen. " There's Muggle-Repelling Charms all around it. It's supposed to look like a large communal outhouse – one that's fallen into despair – but that's only to the Muggle eye, of course. Apparently, it was quite beautiful when it was built. The structure itself is supposed to have echoed the architecture of the Roman Coliseum."

Off the bus, however, Hermione and everyone else seemed to notice that the magical Quidditch stadium actually looked like a despaired communal outhouse of extraordinary proportions. The top of the stands surrounding the pitch loomed over everyone, casting them in shadow. Peeled paint and heavily chipped columns adorned the stadium.

" Would that be the Roman Coliseum as it is today?" Ron asked, looking up at it amusedly.

" Well … of course, in that time period, it was the Department of Magical Games and Sports that maintained to stadium …" Hermione said dubiously.

" Still is," Bagman's secretary muttered as she walked past them toward the stadium entrance.

The Knight Bus vanished with a pop, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione proceeded to follow everybody into the pitch.

The pleasant sunshine cast its rays over the slightly patterned grass of the pitch. A horde of men and women were standing in various colored Quidditch robes at the end of the field.

" Hello, hello!" Ludo exclaimed jovially, waving his arms at the prospective Seekers and beckoning them to an elongated table at the sideline.

Harry took his seat at the end of the table. Ron sat next to him, looking excited. Hermione looked around the field, possibly still contemplating how anything could fall into such despair. She eventually placed herself in a seat beside Ron.

Ludo was still standing. " I'd like to welcome you all to the fifth and last day of your audition!" The Seekers cheered instantly. Ludo waited for them to settle down before continuing. " Today we will put each of you through a rigorous test of strength and physical ability. Keep in mind that we will judge your talents according to anything and everything you do on this field."

The players shifted impatiently. Harry could've bet 20 galleons each of them were just itching to mount their broomsticks. He understand the feeling perfectly and recalled how unbearable it was to stand through Wood's long speeches when all he wanted to do was fly …

" Harry Potter is the head of this process," Harry heard Ludo say. He snapped out of his memory and saw that every Seeker was gaping at him. One skinny man with blonde hair turned to a fellow next to him and mouthed something.

Ludo continued. " He and this panel of Ministry officials will judge your performances. Also, the current members of the Pride of Portree will be present."

Through the opening from the end of the stadium, Harry saw six people in deep-purple robes emerge. The last two, who were the most muscular of them all, were dragging an extremely large trunk with brass hinges.

At the head of the group was a woman who looked no more than three years older than Harry. When she turned to check how the trunk was moving along, Harry read 'McCormack' on the back of her robes.

" Ah, yes! And here they are. Two-time League winner from Isle of Skye, Pride of Portree!"

The prospective Seekers cheered as loud as they could. The trunk was dragged onto the sideline.

The girl, 'McCormack', spoke up. " Hello everyone. I'm Meaghan McCormack, Captain of the Prides."

Harry felt Ron kick him beneath the table. " Captain!" he whispered so nobody could hear. " She's barely older than us!"

Meaghan continued. " Along with the team and panel, I will be looking for strength in physicality and mentality. I have certain expectations for a Seeker. We've just lost one of the greatest Seekers I have ever had the privilege of working with, but I am sure that one of you," she cast her eyes through the crowd, " possesses the integrity to take his retired position and help us, the Prides, to a third League victory next summer!"

She was certainly a talented motivator, as each Seeker gripped their brooms tightly. Some prepared to kick off by swinging their leg over the handle.

" Donnelly here will release fifty Golden Snitches," Meaghan gestured to one of the muscular men who had dragged the trunk. He was standing by it, awaiting her command. "On my whistle, you will fly to compete for your captures. The first fifty Seekers to hit the ground with a Snitch in their hand will make it into the next round." She nodded at Donnelly who gave the trunk a clunky kick. The lid shot open and Harry caught a glimpse of fifty Golden Snitches dart upwards and disappear into the air. A second later, Meaghan blew her whistle.

A hundred Seekers shot towards the sky with one large woosh.

Harry craned his neck and squinted to see tiny specks darting to and fro. The glare of the sun was making it difficult to see everything, but he managed to make out the ferocity of the competition that played over his head. He watched as some dots moved aimlessly around, while others played a different tactic by staying in a single spot to look for the Snitch.

" Mr. Potter?"

Harry straightened his neck. Meaghan McCormack was facing him from the other side of the table.

" I'm Meaghan," she said, extending a tanned and freckled hand. " It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Potter."

" Oh, er, Harry." He was too tolerant to be uncomfortable when her eyes traveled up his face to his scar. He shook her hand quickly. " It's nice to meet you too."

Harry was suddenly aware of Ron, who looked quite eager to shake her hand too. " This is Ron Weasley. He's, er, an … acclaimed critic of the sport of Quidditch, and he'll be helping out with the judging and elimination process."

Meaghan shot him a warm smile and shook his hand as well. Perhaps it was just Harry's imagination, but he thought he heard a small tut come from the general vicinity of where Hermione was sitting.

" And this is Hermione Granger," Harry said, gesturing to her. " She's … er …"

" I work in a bookstore. It's a pleasure to meet you." Hermione extended her, a grim smile etched on her face.

Meaghan shook her hand and turned back to Harry. " I'm glad that the Ministry is choosing somebody of your stature to head this process. The last audition we had for new Chaser was a disaster"

 " What happened?" Harry asked.

She laughed lightly. " The Ministry man knew loads about Quidditch and sports. He was quite a brilliant, actually. Important too. But he'd never ridden a broomstick in his life, let alone play Quidditch. He didn't have a clue how judge performance. But from what I hear, you're quite a fantastic Seeker yourself, so I know I don't have to worry."

They suddenly heard a massive crashing sound. The judges looked up to see a Seeker falling to the ground without a broomstick.

Before anyone else could do anything, Hermione jumped to her feet and pointed her wand skywards. " Impedimenta Corpus!"

The body seemed to stop in midair. At that moment, Donnelly swung himself onto his broomstick and shot into the air towards the Seeker. For underneath, he lifted the body, placed it onto a large shoulder, and soared back down.

The Seeker reached the ground and in his left hand, Harry saw fluttering wings protruding from between the fingers.

Only forty-nine Snitches to catch.

The time passed nonchalantly. By noon, Hermione had finished her first book and was starting another one she'd brought with her. Thirty-five Snitches had so far been caught.

A friendly argument erupted between Ron and Meaghan over which Quidditch team was better – the Prides or the Cannons.

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing how noisy Ron got every time he passionately defended the Cannons. She honestly couldn't think of anything else he defended so strongly.

" They've won the League twenty-one times. Now, I hate to say this, but that's nineteen times more than the Prides have won," said Ron.

Hermione was surprised that Meaghan seemed to take no offense to his words. She laughed and shook her head. " Yes, Ron. A whole nineteen times. And when was the last time they won?"

Ron narrowed his eyes. " 1892."

Meaghan had a nice clear laugh, and when she smiled, her whole face etched a cheery and jovial expression.

It was at that moment that Hermione felt a twinge of resentment towards the fact that she had never taken much of an interest in Quidditch herself. Ron and Harry had, many times, engaged in conversations about Quidditch teams and tactics and other things about the sport. They had corrected her many times before when she used the wrong Quidditch term.

It was because of this that Hermione and her friends were forced to find other topics of discussion. Sure, they shared many moments of deep speculation, opinion, and theory. Yet Hermione couldn't help but feel left out when the topic of Quidditch slipped into the conversation.

And here was Meaghan McCormack who had only known Ron for a few hours and already he seemed to have taken a liking to her. On the other hand, Ron had hated Hermione for over a month before they'd become friends.

The Pride of Portree Captain was quite a charismatic girl. Perhaps she is the kind of person Ron likes, Hermione thought.

Feeling put out, Hermione returned her attention to her book and tried to block out the sounds of Ron's laughter.

* * * * *

A/N: Okay, I'm ending this chapter here. Stay tuned for more to come!