The Spiteful Sorting Hat

Quidditch

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Harry often wondered what happened to the giant squid during the cold winter months, though Millie assured him that the lake was supposedly very deep, and connected through underwater caves to the open sea. On particularly cold days, Harry liked to stare out the window during History of Magic, imaging the squid taking a winter holiday somewhere warm and sunny.

He would often spy Hagrid through the window walking toward the Quidditch field. His size made him easy to spy no matter how far up one of Hogwarts's many towers Harry climbed. During his regular after-school visits, Hagrid explained that he was busy defrosting broomsticks for the upcoming Quidditch season. Harry had no idea why the broomsticks would need defrosting, or what this process would even entail, but he enjoyed listening while Millie and Blaise discussed popular Quidditch teams.

With Blaise's careful instruction, Harry was beginning to understand what he could expect from the first Quidditch match of the season. He took a particular interest in it, as the first match always featured Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The winning team earned points toward the House Cup and progressed in the tournament for the Quidditch Cup. Flying lessons for the first years had already come to a close, much to Harry's disappointment. Flying had been the subject Harry excelled in the most, and he looked forward to his second year when he could officially try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team.

As usual, Malfoy was completely insufferable. When he wasn't taunting Gryffindors about the upcoming match, he was loudly proclaiming to his fellow Slytherins that their victory would be assured if only he had been allowed on the team.

"Flint's a good captain and all," he explained to Harry one afternoon, though Harry had not shown the slightest interest in having a conversation with him, "His beaters are top notch. I've seen them during practice. And Pucey's not a bad chaser, either. But he's mad if he thinks Higgs is a fit seeker. Now, if it were me..."

Harry knew that saying anything, even an insult, would only encourage Malfoy, so he wordlessly packed up his potions homework and left the common room without a backward glance. He could hear Malfoy carrying on his conversation with Crabbe and Goyle, telling them that Potter must not have understood all of his complex Quidditch jargon. "Poor bloke, did you know he was raised by muggles?"

Harry nearly bumped into Terrence Higgs, the Slytherin seeker on his way out the door.

"Malfoy thinks you're shite at seeking," Harry said without so much as a hello.

"Does he now?" Higgs remarked darkly. He was short for his sixteen years, not much taller than Harry. But there was something svelte about the way he moved that reminded Harry strongly of a panther, and made him quite intimidating. They passed each other without another word, and Harry continued on his way to the library, vaguely wondering if Malfoy would have anything amusing to say about his confrontation with Higgs later.

Harry wasn't the only one who had escaped the dungeons to work on homework in the relative comfort of the library. Blaise was sitting at a table to himself, frowning at a piece of parchment in front of him.

"Potions?" Harry asked, taking a seat across from him. "Same for me."

Blaise grunted and began leafing through the pages of Magical Draughts and Potions. "You would think that with Slytherin playing in the first Quidditch match, Snape would have let us off the hook."

Harry shook his head in disagreement, "I heard the team was excused from their homework, but no luck for us first-years."

Blaise sighed and leaned back in his chair, balancing on the two rear legs, "You know. My mum was supposedly really good at potions. Pity I didn't inherit any of her skill."