Albus tapped his quill on the desk impatiently, watching the clock. The ghost who taught history of magic droned on, but Albus' thoughts were somewhere else. This was the last class before Quidditch tryouts, and he was ready. When the bell finally rang, Albus and Eddy jumped out of their seats, and started running. They didn't stop until they got to the common room, dropped their things, and took off again towards the field. When they got there, they saw a familiar face waving to them from the line. It was Rose, and she had gotten there before them. They ran up to her, panting. "How," gasp, "did you," gasp, "get here," gasp, "so fast?"
"Well, I just brought my books with me and lay them on the bench there."
The boys looked over and saw everyone else's thing piled neatly on the bench. They groaned in unison.
"But don't worry; I saved you a spot in line."
As they got closer to the end, Albus got more and more nervous.
What if I mess up? What if I'm not good enough? What If I fall off my broom?!
Before he knew it, it was his turn. He entered the field, to find the seventh year who had asked him to come.
"Nice to see you here, Potter," she said, "Hope you make it. By the way, I'm Nora Johnson, the Quidditch captain."
Albus nodded and tried to smile. He was then ushered toward an obstacle course of flying hoops. He swerved and dodged, making it through the center of every one.
Then came the hard part. He would stand on one end of the field, and the snitch would be thrown from the other end. He got ready, watching they snitch. As soon as it was in the air, he was up like a shot. He speeded toward the snitch, and just as it was about to swerve away, he stuck out a hand and caught it.
