The Missing Marauder: A Harry Potter FanFiction

Chapter 22

***

James had Rowan convinced.  

Quidditch, admittedly, was a very fun sport. The feeling of being in the air and the wind in her hair was addicting, and she loved every second of it.  

He'd been trying to tell her for a whole year. Since he'd made the team in their second year, he'd been trying to get her into it, on a broomstick and into a position. The team had needed a Seeker since the previous one had graduated, and he eventually had gotten her into trying out.  

She made it.  

Nervous out of her mind, Rowan was prepared to do whatever it took to get to the Quidditch Cup. It was her job, as Seeker, to win the games for Gryffindor.  

There were six games in the entire season. Each team would play each other only once, and the first game of the season should've been against Slytherin, but because of their Seeker having an "injury," it was moved to the final game of the season in May.  

That game would decide who got the Quidditch Cup.  

Slytherin and Gryffindor were tied.  

It only added on to Rowan's nervousness.  

The morning of the game, she had gotten changed into her white pants and scarlet and gold sweater. She laid her cape onto her bed and put her gloves, shin and arm guards, and goggles on it, then rolled it all together into one huge bundle, swung it over her shoulder, and left for the Great Hall.  

"I can't believe it's raining," Rowan said as she sat down beside Sirius, across from James, "That's a bad sign."  

"Yeah," James agreed, "For Slytherin."  

"I hope your right," she muttered, picking at her plate of food.  

Sirius eyed it carefully. "You need to eat," he said, "You can't win a championship Quidditch match on an empty stomach."  

"I'm too nervous to eat," she groaned, "I don't think I can do this."  

"Again I say; not on an empty stomach," Sirius insisted, taking her fork out of her hands and poking it into a small piece of bacon. "Eat," he said, holding the fork out to her again. She sighed and took it.  

After breakfast, when most of the students were just sitting and talking in anticipation of the game, Cassiopeia Jones, a fifth year student, came over to Rowan and James. She was also dressed in her scarlet and gold sweater, white pants, boots, shin and arm guards, and protective headgear, as she was the Keeper. Her hair was a blonde mass curving up crazily around the headgear, and her violet eyes looked tired but determined.  

"Potter, Mulciber," she greeted emotionlessly, "Hope you two are prepared for a bit of rain. I just talked to Professor Dumbledore and he said it isn't likely to lighten up."  

"Thanks for the heads up, Cassie," Rowan said to the girl, older by two years.  

James nodded. "The Slytherin boys are a big bunch of babies," he said, "They'll start whining to Slughorn about how the rain is making their brooms slippery or something."  

Cassie smiled. "Right on," she said, pumping her fist. Then she added, "You both have your goggles, right? Because I'm responsible for you guys and we can't play if you don't have them."  

"Yeah, Cass," James said, holding up his pair of goggles to prove it, "Right here."  

"Mulciber?" she asked, turning to her.