Selection

It was Friday noon at the Quidditch Pitch.

By the time Gavin arrived, a dozen or so people were scattered across the stands—

Mostly Slytherins.

A few students from other houses had stopped by just to watch the excitement.

Rare September sunshine lay thin across the grass, just warm enough to keep people from shivering in the wind.

That was the good thing about early autumn—

It was cold, but not biting. Like someone had opened the refrigerator door, but not all the way.

Cordelia stood in the middle of the pitch.

A Nimbus 2000 lay beside her feet.

It was a back-to-school gift from Mr. Rowle, one Cordelia had chosen herself—

A full generation behind the Nimbus 2001 in Malfoy's arms.

Her hair stirred in the wind, and she radiated confidence.

Beside her stood Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, his expression somewhere between impatience and disdain.

Draco Malfoy stood three paces away, holding a brand-new Nimbus 2001.

Sunlight struck the broom handle, and a glint from its metal ring flashed straight into Gavin's seat.

Malfoy glanced at Cordelia's broom and sneered. "Is the Rowle family that poor? You can't even afford a Nimbus 2001?"

Cordelia gave him a cool look. "I just grabbed one from home. It's enough to beat you."

"...Why not use a Cleansweep Seven?" A vein throbbed in Malfoy's forehead.

"Are you sure? I don't mind." Cordelia shrugged. "But think it through. If you lose to a Cleansweep, that'll look pretty bad, won't it?"

Malfoy hesitated.

Her confidence had thrown him.

He didn't think he would lose, but the arrogant little girl had a point.

"And winning wouldn't be much of an achievement either," Cordelia added.

That silenced Malfoy completely.

Before he could speak again, Marcus began announcing the rules of the tryout.