- From : Kyla Loran
This was all because of that boy with the Lightning Scar.
Gavin sat in the stands of the Quidditch Pitch, scowling at his friend, a short, skinny kid with a odd thing in his hands. Hank beamed back at Gavin, who refused to return the smile. All because that Potter kid, Hank was desperate to learn to fly and join the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
“G-Gavin! Are you watching me?” The black-haired boy waved to the stands, jumping up and trying to get his attention. Gavin’s brow furrowed further.
He shifted in his seat, leaning forward and yelling to him. “Hank, this is idiotic. That Potter kid is some ‘Chosen One’. You wouldn’t make the team, even if you were the fastest kid on the field. You’re a First Year.”
Hank’s eyes lost their excited sparkle, but only for a moment. “I can be a chosen one too! I can do anything Harry can!” He lifted the broom he had over his head. “Look! My father sent me his lucky broom!”
Gavin was well aware of Hank Senior’s ‘Lucky Broom’. The oak handle had been snapped so many times, you could easily spot where it had been glued, taped, and nailed back together. It was a disaster waiting to happen, but Gavin didn’t want to tell him. Hank would have to learn that himself. Plus, what best friend didn’t mind seeing their counterpart in pain due to their own stupidity? Sounded sadistic, sure, but it was often true for most best friends.
Hank ran further towards the middle of the pitch, panting like an excited dog. “Just watch me, Gav! I’ll fly super high!” The Slytherin in the stands snickered and shook his head; the last time Hank tried to fly, he ended up with a quick ticket to the Hospital Wing and a month away from school. But even his little hospital visit couldn't convince the kid to stop putting himself in danger.
Hank hopped onto his broom like he had done the other 339 times, and kicked off. Gavin raised an eyebrow as Hank lifted into the air, and hovered for a bit. Maybe he finally did it? He could hear the semi-distant cheers of the Ravenclaw, and Hank began to slowly steer his movements. As much as Gavin wanted to see his friend fail again, he had to admit that Hank was doing much better than the other times. Perhaps Potter fueled his determination?
Well, Hank had always been interested in flying, but ever since Harry took the field and showed the school how amazing the Chosen One was, Hank had become restless. He wanted to spend every second on the pitch. And now his efforts were paying off. He was actually doing amazing! Gavin got up to cheer for his friend, but froze. He didn’t realize his flying friend was coming right at him.
The two crashed and flew backward, the two grunting in pain. When eyes were opened again, it was clear that Gavin took the brunt of the force, and who was groaning in pain as his arms were wrapped around his best friend to protect him. Hank rolled out of his arms, crying slightly. “Gosh darn it… not again…”
A growl escaped Gavin’s mouth. “I told you you couldn’t do it, Not-Chosen-One!” He rolled over to scowl at Hank, who returned an equally cold stare. After a few moments, the two broke into smiles, and then all out laughs. Gavin got up slowly, as to not hurt his already sore body. He held out a hand to Hank. “Up for a 341st try?” Hank broke into a lopsided smile.
Written By: Genevieve Schubert
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