I've Been Losing So Much Time (Del)

[trouble]

The room seemed to go dark for a moment as Halton pulled a plain white tee shirt over his head. Dressed in jeans and this tee shirt, he grabbed his broom and left his dorm room, headed through the Slytherin common room, and walked out into the corridor. He needed to go practice Quidditch a little bit more before the actual tryouts. He’d been practicing over the summer, of course, but he needed to keep his flying skills sharp even if he couldn’t throw Quaffles at himself. Besides, sometimes flying just for the sake of flying was fun, like ice skating for the sake of it, or rollerblading for the fun of it, instead of playing ice or roller hockey.

He met no one on his way outside. A few Slytherins nodded curt greetings to him and some kids from other Houses glared at him – getting as good as they gave – but for the most part people just ignored him. That suited Halt just fine, and he walked quietly down to the Quidditch pitch under the warm light of the early morning sun, which glinted off the prefect’s badge pinned to his chest.

The Quidditch pitch was deserted when Halt showed up, as he had both expected and hoped it would be. Before he actually flew, though, he decided to sit down and lean against the middle goal post at one end of the pitch. He closed his eyes. The inside of his eyelids were red from the sunlight. As always, he couldn’t sit still for long, so he put his broom across his thighs and rolled it in his hands, feeling the smoothly finished handle of his new Nimbus 2001. Not the newest model, but still a very respectable broomstick nonetheless. His parents had gotten it for him for his sixteenth birthday, over the summer.

Halt sat there peacefully for a few minutes, content despite the slight warmth. He should have known someone would come along and ruin the peace.

[Delwyn Dumbledore]

[/color][/center][/ul]

[trouble]

Halt heard the footsteps before he saw the other student, because he kept his eyes closed. But then he heard the young voice - a boy. He opened his eyes, looking the kid over head to toe. Nothing to show what House he might be in. But Halton's Slytherin Prefect's badge pinned to his chest showed that he was a snake, and so most people in the other three Houses would stay away. Either this was a young snake he just didn't recognize - which wouldn't surprise him, since Halt never paid attention to the Sortings - or he just didn't care about Slytherin's reputation. If he was Muggleborn, he might not even know about it.

Then the words actually registered in Halt's mind. The boy could pull off Muggle clothing easily enough, but he knew enough about Quidditch to recognize the broom Halt was holding. Glancing down at it, he saw that the name was facing him, away from the boy. Yeah, the kid knew his broomsticks. So probably either pureblood or halfblood. And maybe even Slytherin.

"Yes, it's a 2001," Halt said, gripping the broom in his right hand as he stood up. He was more than six inches taller than the other boy, which wasn't surprising since he was a sixth year and the young kid was a first year. Or at least, Halton thought he was. He could be second year, but then Halt would most likely recognize him. First year, he decided. Explained why Halt didn't recognize him, and why he knew about Halt's broom. "Do you fly?"

If he answered yes, he definitely had a wizarding background, or Halt was wrong about him being a first year. If he said no, then there was a good chance he was a first year Muggleborn - or as most of Halton's House called them, Mudbloods. They weren't fit to practice magic, Halt thought. They were Muggles at heart, and Muggles were lowly scum. Halt wasn't really even sure why he thought this, but realized it was probably just prejudice born from his parents, both of whom had gone to Durmstrang.