Word count: 531… Enjoy!

Quidditch – A Keeper's Tale

Ron was terribly nervous that week. Not only did he have to live up to the legacy of all his brothers, but also to the renowned Oliver Wood – one of the best keepers Gryffindor had ever had. Accepted by Puddlemere United almost immediately after he left school, renowned for his expert saves (and his grueling practices, for that matter), Oliver had been admired and saluted in Gryffindor.

Yet Ron, tall-and-lanky, youngest-Weasley-boy, red-hair-with-freckles Ron was planning on trying out.

He had dreamed of playing Quidditch from a young age. From the first time he had ridden a broomstick at age six to hearing his brothers' stories of famous games and Hogwarts matches, he was in love with the game.

He had decided – at age nine – that his favorite Quidditch team was the Chudley Cannons after his father received tickets from a friend and brought him to the match. It had been just him and his dad, as everyone else was either at Hogwarts or back at the Burrow, and Ron had relished the opportunity to see a game in action without their input on the best players.

He had gotten all things Chudley Cannons – despite his mother's insistence that it clashed horribly with his hair – and he was proud that his room looked like an explosion of fire.

He had practiced flying as much as he could. With his brothers, without his brothers, when he was allowed to and when he was supposed to be doing other things. He didn't ever mind which position he played, but rather relished the simple feeling of soaring through the air, of flying.

He had gone to Hogwarts, disappointed that he could not take his broom with him, but excited for flying lessons and the chance to be on the team the year after. Maybe as a Chaser or a Keeper. Probably a Keeper though. Charlie had always been Seeker (or Chaser when they didn't have a Snitch on hand) and Fred and George were already Beaters on the team, so it was unlikely he would get a spot on the team until after they had gone.

He had told Harry, the famous Harry Potter, about his favorite sport. It was not often that he had such an enraptured audience, one willing to actually listen to what he had to say.

He had watched as Harry gained a spot on the team – Seeker – and was pleased for his friend. It wasn't every day that a first year even got on the team!

Quidditch had been blown to the back corner of his mind for a few years, but now he was ready. Ready to prove himself. Even if Fred and George would make fun of him for it, even if he wasn't sure how Harry would feel about having his best friend on the team, Ron was going to try out. And he was going to do what he was really good at.

Not school, not pranks, certainly not reading. Quidditch. Pure, freeing Quidditch.

But as he stepped back through the great oak doors for the fifth time that week, he felt encouraged, empowered. Not just because of the cheers or the excitement of the other Gryffindors, but because he had done it.

He had proved himself in the only way he knew how.

Quidditch.

Competitions entered in:

The Honeydukes Competition: Fizzing Whizbees – write about a Quidditch player

The Weasley Wizard Wheezes Competition: Ton-Tongue Toffees – write something with no dialogue

The Greenhouse Competition: Begonia – write something with no dialogue

The Diagon Alley Competition: Quality Quidditch Supplies – write something related to Quidditch

The Philosopher's Stone Competition: Quidditch – write about a Quidditch game or player

The Magical Objects Competition: Broomsticks – write about Quidditch or a Quidditch player

Hope you enjoyed! At first I was writing this for the Page Number Competition, but it sort of just mutated and grew out of control… :P Things tend to do that though… Please tell me what you thought! :D