Title: Number One Fan Fandom: Harry Potter books Author: devilinthedetails Timeframe: Before the books when Bill and Charlie are students at Hogwarts. Characters: Bill Weasley; Charlie Weasley; Original Characters Genre: Family, General Summary: Charlie auditions for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Bill supports him as only an older brother can. Author's Note: Written for the NSWFF Prompt "Slam Dunk." Number One Fan Charlie looked nervous as he and Bill headed down to the Quidditch pitch for the Gryffindor team trials, the evening dew clinging silver to the green grass dampening their shoes as the sun set scarlet in the sky over Hogwarts . Slinging an arm around Charlie’s shoulders that Bill knew would soon be broader than his own, Bill said as much to soothe himself as Charlie, “Soon the trails will be over, and you’ll be on the team.” “Don’t jinx me.” Charlie ducked out from beneath Bill’s arm. “It’s been almost a century since a player as young as me qualified for any House team at Hogwarts, and you know it.” “I do.” Bill was silent for a moment after this admittance, and they continued to walk toward the looming shadow of the Quidditch stadium. At last finding a way to interpret this seemingly daunting fact in a positive light, he went on, “Don’t be discouraged by that. It just means there hasn’t been a player as talented as you at Hogwarts in almost a century.” “Stop.” Charlie nudged Bill, banging the full length of his body against Bill’s taller one. “You’ll give me such a swollen head that I won’t be able to fly without falling face-first off my broom.” “You’re a slam dunk for the team,” Bill continued to encourage his brother because he sensed Charlie needed the morale boost. “Slam dunk?” Charlie arched an eyebrow at the unfamiliar term. “In this context, it means a shoo-in, but it can also mean an aggressive and successful way of scoring on an opponent if I understand the Muggle word right.” Bill chuckled, pleased at his brother’s bewildered reaction to a term he had learned from a Muggle-Born friend. “They use it in a Muggle sport to describe when one of the players throws a ball through a hoop.” “Sounds like something a Chaser would do.” Charlie’s expression cleared as they reached the Quidditch pitch. “Don’t get yourself killed or Mum will kill me.” With this brotherly version of a well-wish, Bill clapped Charlie on the back before they parted ways: Bill climbing to seats where he could watch the upcoming Quidditch trials and Charlie disappearing into the locker room to change and to listen to the Gryffindor captain Heather Midgen outline the procedures for team trials. In the stands, Bill had nothing better to do but contemplate all the ways his mother would kill him–skinning alive or poisoning with a lethal powder tucked into his next meal at home–until the trials started. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before Heather Midgen emerged, striding with brisk confidence, from the locker rooms but it felt like an eon. In her wake like ducklings following a mother bird, Charlie and the other hopefuls for the Seeker position made vacant by the graduation of Jason MacDonald the previous year stepped out onto the pitch with far more visible hesitation. Bill watched with mounting excitement and optimism as the other three players trying out for Seeker endured varying degrees of humiliation. The first candidate pursued a Snitch that turned out to be lightning bug for fifteen minutes before finally catching the Snitch at the other end of the pitch. The second candidate seemed to have trouble seeing in the growing dark and took nearly half an hour to catch the Snitch. The third almost snatched up the Snitch before fumbling the catch and falling to the ground instead. Heather whipped out her wand to cushion the girl’s fall as she crashed to the ground with what Bill was sure would have been bone-breaking impact otherwise. Apparently determined to redeem herself, the girl brushed the dust from her robes and remounted her broom in pursuit of the Snitch. This time, she caught it without tumbling from her broomstick. Bill applauded out of appreciation for her tenacity if not her flying skill, and his applause rose to throat-scratching cheers as Heather released the Snitch for Charlie to capture and his brother streaked off in search of the golden glitter his eyes could spot faster than anyone else Bill had ever met. In what felt like little more than an eye blink, Charlie had caught the Snitch and presented it in an outstretched palm to Heather with what Bill could only imagine was an impish grin. Bill could picture Heather’s gaping mouth reflecting his own shock at his brother’s skill at Quidditch that never failed to surprise him no matter how many times he witnessed it firsthand, and he didn’t need to imagine her whoops that echoed throughout the stadium a second later as she enthusiastically embraced Charlie. Bill dashed down from the stands and raced onto the pitch to wrap Charlie in a rib-crushing hug, shouting,“Seems like you made the team after all!” “It was a slam dunk.” Charlie laughed as he repeated the strange Muggle word Bill had taught him earlier. “We must tell Dad that word.” “Better not.” Bill shook his head. “We’ll hear it so much we’ll get sick of it if we teach Dad a new Muggle word. Better not tell Mom you made the team or she’ll drive you crazy with her fretting about you getting concussed by Bludgers.” “Oh, and you aren’t worried about that at all?” Charlie elbowed Bill in the ribs. “Not at all.” Bill rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t tell if you were concussed or not since I imagine you’d act no stupider concussed.” “Thanks, big brother.” Charlie’s tone was tart as lemon. “No problem. Never forget I’m your number one fan.” Bill used his greater height to his advantage by ruffling Charlie’s already wind-tossed hair. “Congratulations on making the team. Now try not to disgrace the family.” “Any more than you have already, you mean?” Charlie stuck out his tongue and dodged the light cuff Bill aimed at his ear. “Now that was another slam dunk for me.” “I set myself up for it.” Bill wrinkled his nose ruefully.