IT HAD BEEN TWENTY MINUTES since Draco had left his side and all Saros had done in such time was, wrap and rewrap his gloves a dozen times outside of the pitch. He didn't dare step out onto the pitch like the rest of the Slytherin students that had arrived for tryouts. Part of him knew he was being absolutely foolish, not to mention childish. However, as more students showed up for the tryouts, along with reoccurring members of the team, Saros believed he was going to make an absolute fool of himself out there. 

Then Draco decided to abandon his side at one point, leaving Saros with the option of running away. He had been seriously contemplating it when he turned and was met with a wall of bodies.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Before Saros could even look up from his gloves, he had recognised Angelina's voice right away. His head jerked up and met her gaze, only to find her eyes narrowed in a questioning look. Fred and George accompanied her as well, flanking her sides, with their arms folded over their chests. Suddenly, the question didn't seem one asked out of genuine curiosity but as a threat.

"What's it to you?" he countered, straightening his posture to stand taller. Despite being happy that his friends had approached him, Saros wasn't entirely sure if they were over the spat from the other day. There was a slight chance that they were there to kick his arse.

He attempted to go around them to avoid any discussion of the Quidditch tryouts but he was blocked one again. This time, Fred and George took an arm of his each and began dragging him backwards.

"Let me go, I don't like being handled," he told the twins.

"I've heard you say otherwise," Angelina said in a teasing tone, leaving him to shoot her a look. "I distinctly remember you telling me that you liked the idea of being managed."

"That was for your ears to hear only," Saros replied with a faint blush rising to his cheeks. He was desperately trying to ignore the large grins that Fred and George were currently wearing.

"I also remember you saying that you would take it easy on me on the pitch," she continued, " how are you going to do that if the pitch is that way? Saros, you need to go to the tryouts in order to get on the team."

"I'm aware of that, darling," he grumbled the last bit, before letting out a heavy sigh, " but I don't want to go out there. I'm going to end up making a complete fool out of myself-"

"No, you're not! Stop talking like that, Saros. Draco was right," she said, " you really do overthink and you get yourself all bent out of shape."

Saros lifted his head as the twins came to a halt. "Wait, Draco spoke with you?"

"Yeah," Fred answered, " came up to us and told us that you were going to chicken out of the tryouts. But not before mentioning that you were a better player than all of us. So come on. First, I was told that you were funnier than us last year, now I hear you're a better flyer."

"I can't-"

Angelina placed her hand under Saros' chin gently, making him look her directly in the eyes again. However, before she could say anything, another voice chimed in.

"Yes, you can!" Draco arrived, not bothering to look at the other three. "I told them you could. I saw you fly this summer back at the manor. Before you had all your memories back, you were able to do it. Now that your memories are back, you're just able to think of excuses as to why you can't. It has nothing to do with your leg, it's all in your head."

"Draco is right," Angelina said, not fully believing that she had uttered such a thing, " you can't let your leg hold you back. Have you forgotten everything you have accomplished with it? You were a Triwizard Tournament Champion. You were selected worthy to compete out of the school. You went up against a dragon and won!"

"You also swam without it and did perfectly fine in the lake," George interjected.

Saros had nothing else left to argue with because they were all right. For years, he simply wanted to prove that he was capable of doing things on his own. Whether he was trying to prove it to his parents or to himself, and while his parents had babied him in some respects, it was Saros that had been holding himself back the most.

Of course, it was easier said than done to break mental barriers, but he was never going to get over it if he didn't try.

"Alright fine," he finally said, " you all are right. I at least have to try before I say I can't do something."

"We'll be right here, cheering you on," Angelina told him.

"Um, no you won't be!" Draco interrupted. "In case you three forgot, this is a Slytherin tryout, no Gryffindors allowed! I said to show some support, not cheer from the stands. You all can leave now, thanks-

Suddenly, Saros clapped his hand over his brother's mouth. "I think what Draco was trying to say was, thank you but we'll take it from here. I'll meet up with you three later and let you know how I did."

Draco started walking towards the pitch, while, Fred and George rolled their eyes at the little Malfoy's attitude. They started to head back to the castle but before Angelina could start walking off, Saros reached out and grabbed her hand gently.

"Uh, before you go," he said, "I just wanted to say thank you...for coming out here when Draco asked you to. Even if it wasn't for him, deep down I think he appreciated you taking the time to listen to him and....thank you for being the first to cheer me on, back when I was chosen as a champion."

"You remembered that?! You got that memory back!" Her eyes were wide and the smile on her face continued to grow as her voice only grew louder. "I..that's great! That means the others could come back soon too!"

He wanted to believe the same thing and hoped she was right, especially as her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. It lasted for a few moments before Angelina pulled away and told him to hurry to the pitch. He nodded and the entire time he walked to the pitch, there was a smile on his face as he remembered the first time that Angelina had hugged him.

It was right after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, he had faced the dragon and managed to survive. His leg had been exposed for everyone in the school to see that he wore a prosthetic and he thought at the moment that it would cause her to look at him differently. But instead, she had been waiting for him back at the tent where she wrapped him in the tightest of hugs, just thankful that he was alright.

Angelina was right, he had gone up against a dragon and won, surely he could handle being around a few of his fellow snakes while on a broom.

Stepping onto the pitch had caused quite a buzz among the Slytherin students that were gathered. Some were there for tryouts, while others sat in the stands, ready to cheer on their friends. But when Saros arrived, many of the students fixated their gaze on the Head Boy. From the year before, Saros had managed to gain quite a bit of popularity that didn't revolve around the idea of just being a Malfoy or part of the Black family through his mother's side. Instead, he made a name for himself.

He had been the champion that they had been rooting for to show off their House pride, not to mention, he was Head Boy of the castle. Now he was trying out for Quidditch, where did his gains in popularity end?

However, there were a few select Slytherins that didn't hold Saros on the pedestal. Among them was Captain of the Slytherin team, Graham Montague.

Graham was actually a younger student, one in Draco's year and the two had actually become friends through Quidditch. But he was quite large for his age, being tall and muscular that made him appear older. And as Saros approached where his brother was standing, Graham decided to make his way over to both Malfoys for a lovely confrontation.

"Surprised you two decided to show up," Graham said, lifting up his sleeves to expose his abnormally hairy forearms. "You think you two stand a chance to make it onto the team while I'm captain?"

"I made the team before you did," Draco countered, " and our father funded this team with everything they have. Including your broom, Montague. What's your problem?"

"Well, I've just been having a chat with Crabbe and Goyle here, I've just made them Beaters, and we're all in agreement that we don't let blood-traitors on the team. Seems disrespectful to Salazar Slytherin's name, doesn't it?"

"That was the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of someone's mouth," Saros said, "and that's including an entire year of listening to Lockhart. You can't reject people from tryouts based on their beliefs."

"Yes, I can, I'm Captain! Besides, that's how it's always been done. Neither one of you had anything to say before you became traitors. This shouldn't be news to you."

"We were wrong then," Saros told him, " and we're trying to make a right of it now. It makes no sense to discriminate anyone from joining the team or at least trying out, as long as they have the talent to play."

"And what? You think you got enough talent to make this team?" Graham laughed. "Especially lugging this around?"

Draco watched in horror as Graham took to using his foot to kick the side of Saros' leg where the prosthetic was. In seconds, anger washed over him and he went to lunge at Graham for thinking he could disrespect his brother in such a way. But before he could even take a step, Saros placed his arm out, stopping Draco from going any further.

"I heard you didn't even make it through your flying classes your first year," Graham went on, " so really, let's not waste any time here. Why don't you two go and try out for the Gryffindor team? I'm sure that girlfriend of yours and the rest of those blood-traitors would love to have you-"

"Sounds more like you're intimidated by the idea of me trying out for the team," Saros said calmly, " afraid that I might outshine you, even while lugging this around? Would be a shame wouldn't it, being outshined by someone like myself?"

"As if you could-"

"I've seen how you play, a decent flyer, but you display poor sportsmanship, a lack of knowing the rules and proper techniques to score. That's why you're fouled so much during matches. But the point is, as Captain, you should have what it takes to lead your team to victory. So why not gather up your own idea of a team here, and Draco and I will play the lot of you."

Draco's eyes widened. "We will? I mean," he quickly composed himself, " we will."

"Yes, we will, the two of us," Saros said, " against whatever you can put together right here, Montague. I think that's more than fair."

"I'm not wasting my time-"

"ARE YOU SAYING YOU'RE SCARED OF A CHALLENGE?" Draco called obnoxiously loud over his shoulder to have the others in the stands listen in. "You won't let my brother tryout and you won't let me back on the team because you're scared we'll be better than you? Why don't we let others see who they want representing them on the Slytherin team?"

An excited buzz hummed through the stands as the crowd of students leaned in to see what the answer was going to be. Draco's plan of gathering an audience had certainly worked.

"So, Montague, what's it going to be?"