Harry Potter and the Dovahkiin

The tryouts kicked off once enough players showed up and a decent crowd gathered to watch the chaos unfold. Ben wasn't aiming for Seeker—too much competition already, and with his Crosswind 9000, chasing the Snitch was a lost cause. The thing was fast, and the moment he took off after it, his broom would probably start helping the other team.

Beater, though—that was more his style. He'd always liked dodgeball, and dodgeball with two homicidal Bludgers and a bat? Sounded perfect.

Of course, the Crosswind 9000 didn't exactly help his case. It earned a few snickers as he trailed behind during the warm-up lap, his broom wheezing like it had asthma. Someone from the stands shouted, "That thing's so old, I think Merlin used it!" Ben just grinned. They wouldn't be laughing once he had a bat in his hand.

Douglas McCarthy's horse-like voice followed a moment later as he overtook Ben. "Keep going at that pace, Brown—you'll need a calendar to track your lap."

Ben shot him a smirk. "Keep talking, McCarthy. It'll give me something to aim at."

The first Beater trial had Tobias Alderton, the team's Beater, launching Bludgers at the participants like he had a personal grudge against them. The goal? Stay on your broom, ideally without losing any teeth—and maybe take out a few competitors along the way. 

Doug was the first to drop, courtesy of Ben—and the rest followed not long after.

For the next round, the last three standing were assigned a Chaser to protect from incoming Bludgers as they tried to score a goal. Ben's broom wasn't exactly built for quick turns, so after a minute of flailing, he scrapped defence altogether and went full offence. If he couldn't keep up with his Chaser, he'd just make sure everyone else hit the ground first.

With his strength, the already furious Bludgers were now streaking across the pitch like cannonballs. Beaters and Chasers alike were sent spinning until only Ben and his Chaser, Marianne Fawcett, were left standing—or technically, still in the air.

"Reckon I'll leave my back to you, then," Marianne called over her shoulder, sounding almost impressed.

Ben grinned. "Careful—I might start charging for protection."

Tobias swooped up behind Ben on his broom and clapped him on the back. "Welcome to the team, Brown."

That got a few disgruntled looks —especially from Roger Davies and Edgar Cornfoot, the two Chasers Ben had knocked off their brooms—but Tobias was a sixth-year built like a troll, with arms like tree trunks and a personality to match. Rumour had it he'd once punched a suit of armour for "looking at him funny."

Everyone was smart enough not to argue—especially when Tobias looked like he'd enjoy the argument. Owen cleared his throat and welcomed Ben to the team and everyone else followed. 

Things didn't go as well for Cho. Seeker trials were a brutal test of speed, reflexes, and sharp eyes, and it was close between her and Eleanor, both streaking through the air neck and neck. But in the end, Eleanor's longer reach—and the fact that she was riding a Nimbus 2000—gave her the edge. Surprisingly, Eleanor was shaping up to be a better Seeker than a Chaser, but Cho had more potential and would only get better with practice.

Still, the decision was Owen's, and he chose Eleanor. Cho made reserve, but the tight smile on her face didn't quite reach her eyes.

It was late by the time Ben and Cho finished hauling—or levitating—the injured to the hospital wing, just in time for their detention.

Ben found it quite funny applying Dittany and Murtlap Essence to the bruises and swellings he'd caused in the first place.

He attak,He protek,Now he check,On the wrecks—what the heck?

Everyone had their dinners delivered to the hospital wing by the elves. In a way, it was their first team dinner—even if half the team wasn't present and half of the ones who were present weren't actually on the team.

Things soon settled into a familiar rhythm. Ben went to class during the day and served detention in the evenings. The Ravenclaw team gathered three times a week—twice for early morning practice and once in the evening for a strategy meeting. And by strategy meeting, I mean they mostly flipped through Quidditch Weekly, played trivia, traded cards, and argued over who was the best player and why it was obviously their favourite.

Two weeks flew by, and Ben's detention finally came to an end. Honestly, it hadn't been that bad. He'd learned a lot, and the highlight was undoubtedly the spectacular sight of Malfoy puking up slugs. Saving Ron's wand from snapping had finally paid off.

Lucius Malfoy, of course, had stormed into the school, frothing at the mouth and demanding consequences—preferably someone's head on a silver platter. But Dumbledore, calm as ever, politely reminded him that calling someone a Mudblood was also against the rules. In the end, Lucius had to settle for both Draco and Ron getting detention. Small victories.

Anyway, now that he had some free time, Ben could finally focus on his other problem—his malfunctioning magic. He hadn't found any answers in the library; not exactly a common problem, apparently. But after thinking it over, he figured getting stronger ought to solve just about everything.

So now he spent his evenings in the Forbidden Forest, zapping Acromantulas. Practising magic on live targets seemed to work better for levelling up his skills—though the Acromantulas probably didn't share that sentiment. Plus, the dead spiders sold for decent gold. Waste not, want not.

October arrived like a wet cat—damp, miserable, and in a foul mood— with rain hammering against the windows and sneezes echoing through the hallways.

Now, you'd think the Dragonborn wouldn't have to worry about a little flu, but you'd be wrong. Turns out, a stronger immune system means a stronger immune response, and in Ben's case, that meant lifting a few inches off the ground every time he sneezed.

It only stopped after he downed an entire cauldron of extra-strong Pepperup Potion—though it left him steaming like a kettle for the rest of the day.

-End of Chapter-