"Dumbledore?" Said Charlie, "Why do you need to see the Headmaster? Everything okay Oliver?"
"Yeah…well no but-" I took a deep breath and composed myself, "I just need to talk to him about something, it's no big deal though."
Charlie gave me a puzzled look, and raised a set of skeptical eyebrows.
"Come on Charlie, I'm askin' ya because you're a Prefect. Do you know how I could…I don't know…set up a meeting?" I finished awkwardly.
"I guess you could ask him at breakfast. He's quite friendly, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Said Charlie.
"I'd rather talk to him in private if that's at all possible." I said.
Charlie nodded, "Then talk to McGonagall after class, see if she can set a meeting up."
I thanked Charlie and made my way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I was doubtful the Headmaster would have the time to see me, because he probably had a plethora of more important tasks needing to be addressed. I sat down by myself at the Gryffindor long table and began chewing on some toast as I continued with my thoughts.
I was trying to remember what exactly Dumbledore did on a day to day basis. He didn't teach a class, but surely he didn't just sit in his office all day…doing paperwork? What exactly did Headmasters do? I had the brief thought that maybe they did nothing substantial, and relished any opportunity to impart knowledge into confused students seeking answers. Like a living fortune cookie. The more I thought about it the more ridiculous of a notion it seemed.
"You there Oliver?" Said Rosemary.
I turned my attention to the sixth year girl in front of me. I hadn't noticed her sit down across from me.
"How long have I been sitting here not saying anything?" I asked.
"Not long, but you had this stupid look on your face."
"That's my deep introspection face." I said.
"Looked like you were trying to decide if rookies should celebrate or cry after getting drafted by the Cannons." She said.
"That's a grand dilemma."
"Oh for sure."
"Because on one hand, you get to play pro Quidditch but-"
"You'll probably hate the sport by the end of your first month." Said Rosemary.
We both nodded, and sat together in silence for a few moments. I always enjoyed how easy Rosemary was to talk to.
"So you're not sitting with the girls in your year, something wrong?" I asked.
"Not really, Maggie split up with her boyfriend, and insists on talking about nothing else."
"Didn't have any insight for her?" I asked.
"Well you're the one sitting here pondering the mysteries of the universe, maybe you should counsel her." Said Rosemary.
I thought for a moment, then smiled.
"I'd tell her to cry for now but hold out, because a better team will probably pick her up by December."
Rosemary laughed.
Luckily Transfiguration was my first class that morning, so I didn't have long to wait to talk to McGonagall. I barley paid attention in class, because I was so obsessed with how to make my strange request. As the other students filed out of the classroom, I made my way to the front and cleared my throat.
"Yes Mr. Wood? Is there something I can help you with?" Said McGonagall.
"Yes Professor…well sort of." I stammered, "I was wondering if I could set up a meeting to talk to Dumbledore."
Professor McGonagall gave me a confused look.
"Mr. Wood, I am your Head of House. If you have any concerns you can always bring them to me." She said.
"I understand Professor, but I spoke about this with my father over the summer, and he said Dumbledore would understand." I said.
It wasn't that I didn't trust McGonagall, but Percy's rejection of my father's explanation made me cautious of who else to talk to.
McGonagall cleared her throat, and looked flustered for some reason. In my two years of having her as a professor I'd never seen her composure compromised.
"Of course Mr. Wood…if you'd rather speak about this…issue…with a-a male authority I perfectly understand." She said.
My face turned red as the implication of McGonagall's words hit me.
"Oh! Oh no Professor! I mean-I'd rather talk to Dumbledore, but not that I don't think you're qualified! Um…but it's not about um…well that sort of thing…but um."
"It's perfectly alright Mr. Wood. I'll let the Headmaster know to expect you this evening after dinner." Said McGonagall.
I mumbled a 'Thank you' and bolted out of the room. The embarrassment threatened to overwhelm me, but at least I had a chance to talk to Dumbledore later.
The rest of the day passed by slowly. Most first days did though. I signed up to take Care of Magical Creatures and Divination for my extra classes, but I wasn't particularly thrilled by either. Being outside with Professor Kettleburn just made me want to get to Quidditch already, and Trelawney seemed…off. Still, they were both infinitely better than Potions with Snape.
Charlie announced tryouts would be this coming Saturday after everyone was finished with classes for the day. I still felt oddly confident about my chances of getting on the team. I had reason to be at ease though. Charlie and the rest of the team wouldn't have spent time with me over the summer if they didn't think I would do well. Still, I couldn't help but imagine a situation where an unknown talent showed up and played better than me. I put those thoughts aside. Charlie told me I had to work on becoming tougher mentally, and that meant I had to stop causing myself unnecessary anxiety.
An hour pasted dinner that night I made my way to the entrance of the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle standing guard looked quite menacing, but that's not what caused my sudden panic. McGonagall hadn't told me the password! How was I supposed to see Dumbledore now?
As if on cue, I heard a voice behind me.
"Ah there you are Mr. Wood." Said Dumbledore.
I turned in surprise to see the elder wizard approaching me. I hadn't even heard him turn the corner.
"Ugh, H-hello Headmaster."
"Minerva informed me that you had something you wished to discuss?" He said.
"Ugh…oh! Yes sir…yes sir I do."
Dumbledore walked over to the gargoyle and said something that sounded an awful lot like 'Lemon drop.'
"Very good, we may speak privately in my office." Said Dumbledore.
The guard to the Headmaster's office parted to reveal a narrow, spiral staircase. The Headmaster began to climb the stairs, and I quickly followed.
"So Mr. Wood. I take it you'll be tryout for the Gryffindor Quidditch team this weekend?"
"I-I will." I said, "How did you know tryouts were this Saturday? Charlie just told us a few hours ago."
Dumbledore chucked, "Well I am the Headmaster, I make it my business to know what is happening in my school."
"Oh…of course." I said awkwardly.
It was surreal being alone in the presence of someone as famous as Albus Dumbledore. Everyone in the Wizarding World knew about his prowess with magic, and his heroic defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald. There was also this aura around him that radiated a kind of quite power and intensity that was difficult to describe. The fact that someone with his kind of weight in the world had agreed to hear the trivial problems of a child spoke a lot about his character.
We reached his office a few moments later, and I was greeted with a surprisingly cluttered room. I had expected the Headmaster's office to resemble something like a throne room with grand tapestries, windows, and wide space. Instead, the office was a humble size. The walls were covered with portraits and books, and instead of a throne, there was a desk covered with parchment.
Dumbledore led me to a chair opposite his desk, and offered me some candies he kept in a jar. After we both got settle, he addressed me again.
"Now then, what can I help you with today Oliver?"
The use of my first name threw me off, but I took a deep breath and began speaking. I told him about my experience at the Scotland, France game and the incident with the MLES officers. I told him about the conversation with my father later that night, and the argument with Percy on the train. Dumbledore stayed quite through my entire explanation, and listened to me with attentive eyes.
"So I guess I'm just confused about what happened, and if I'm honest, I'm worried that something like what happened that night would prevent me from playing professional Quidditch." I said.
The Headmaster stayed quite for another few moments before speaking for the first time in several minutes.
"Your father is correct Oliver, this is a very nuanced and complicated topic, and it's one that boys your age shouldn't have to worry about." He sighed and continued, "But sometimes, life forces us to grow up faster than we'd like, especially when we encounter certain difficulties.
Even without giving me a direct answer, I already felt better hearing the Headmaster's calm but logical words.
"There is indeed prejudice still in the Ministry, and in the Wizarding World as a whole. Certain groups of people whether they be wealthy, powerful, or of a certain blood-status, enjoy privileges that others must work harder to enjoy." He said.
I nodded in understanding. His explanation seemed similar to my father's.
"It is true though, that I have worked hard to make Hogwarts a place void of those prejudices, so you will not experience anything like you did after that game while I am Headmaster here, that I can assure you."
His promise was immediately comforting, and his certainty sent tingles up and down my spine.
"And I believe that if you are truly gifted at Quidditch, then you will encounter no problems with playing professionally." He said with a smile, "Charlie told me he had a lot of confidence in you, so it seems you must have a knack for the game."
"Charlie talked to you about me?" I asked.
"Oh yes. He's quite excited to have found someone with the potential to be great."
By now I should have been used to Charlie's praise, but I couldn't help the feelings of surprise and confusion at the Headmaster's word.
"Sometimes I really don't know what he sees in me. It's not like I've really proven myself yet."
"I've found that Mr. Weasley is an excellent judge of character, so I'm sure the reasons for his confidence will become clear soon." Said Dumbledore.
We both sat in silence for a few moments before the Headmaster resumed speaking.
"Was there anything else you wanted to ask me Oliver?"
I thought for a moment, "Do you think Percy was right? Did those officers just made a mistake, or were they being prejudice?"
Dumbledore let out a deep sigh, "I'm afraid we might never truly know the answer to that question. It would be impossible to go back to that moment, and learn the objective truth, well almost impossible." Dumbledore resumed speaking before I could ask what he meant by that, "You are young Mr. Wood. Do not let your childhood years become consumed by questions for another time."
I nodded in understanding.
"Thank you Headmaster, I appreciate you seeing me tonight." I said.
"Of course. Hogwarts will always be a refuge, and source of comfort to those who need it most." Said Dumbledore.
After saying my goodbyes I took the long way back to the Gryffindor common room to give myself time to process the conversation. It didn't take long to find closure though. What the Headmaster said was true. For the moment, I didn't need to worry about my blood-status and its implications. I had Quidditch tryouts this weekend, and I needed to stay focused.
Saturday morning I awoke early like I did last year, and made my way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I didn't eat much, but I knew I would need something in my stomach.
By the time I made it down to the pitch, the sun had just made it up over the horizon. I inhaled deeply, and took in the scent of freshly cut grass. The Hogwarts Quidditch pitch never failed to give me a warm feeling every time I saw it. I couldn't allow myself to enjoy that feeling for too long though as tryouts would begin within the hour.
I was surprised at how similar the tryouts this year were setup compared to the ones last year. The opening two drills were identical. The only difference was that Birch had taken over Alec's role of providing, "encouragement." The major deviation came after the passing drill.
"Right, so the crucial position we're looking at today is Goalkeeper, so that's where we're gonna start." Said Julie. "Everyone interested in playing Keeper, make your way over to the hoops."
Myself, the reserve keeper from last year, and three other players made our way over to the tall set of goals. Julie flew over to us shortly, and explained that players would be driving at the hoops to shoot and we were to stop them. Each potential Goalkeeper would get ten shots before switching. Simple enough.
"Right, who wants to go first?" Asked Birch.
No body volunteered immediately, but after a few moments I stepped forward after remembering something Charlie told me over the summer.
"Keepers must be bold. When you rush out to make a challenge or close down space there must be no hesitation, because if you second guess yourself for even a second, you'll get scored on."
"Try and give me a challenge Birch." I said, trying to sound confident.
"Let's see you back that talk up Wood." Said Julie.
The first four shots were easy saves. They came from some younger hopefuls who hadn't quite mastered the shooting mechanics. I didn't take them lightly though. I treated each attempt with full seriousness, and tried to display as many Goalkeeper features as possible. Quick reflexes, Quaffle security on catches, good punches on stronger shots, and a speedy recovery after diving.
The fifth shooter in line was Dominick Weber, and I knew he'd be difficult to stop. The veteran Chaser began his drive dead center, but quickly cut across the right side of the pitch in an attempt to draw me out. I held my nerve though. I'd let him fly around all he wanted as long as it wasn't into a threatening position. When the Chaser saw I wouldn't be easily lured out of position, he cut inside towards the hoops, and tried to curl a shot past me. I read his body language every step of the way, and pushed his attempt well out of danger.
I was five for five, and starting to think I could stop all ten. I got to eight before Rosemary ended my streak. She launched a brutal throw from twenty yards out that I had no chance to stop. I'd need to congratulate her on it after the drill, but I had no time to dwell on it now as the next shooter was lining up.
Rosemary ended up being the only one to score on me, and that included Birch on the last shot. Julie's attempt had forced me to go full stretch, and it was easily my most impressive save of the day.
The three new Goalkeeper hopefuls didn't fair particularly well. None of them managed to make more than five saves. Moss, the reserve Keeper, had been staring daggers at me ever since I finished my set. Apparently he didn't expect much competition for the position. When it was his turn I could tell he was nervous, and it showed as he played. He only managed seven saves.
I had fun with the remaining drills during tryouts. I was fairly confident I'd secured the starting spot. Not only had I managed more saves than Moss, but my technique had been cleaner, and less erratic.
Charlie flew down once we had finished, and delivered as similar speech to the one from last year. I should have been nervous, but I felt surprisingly at peace. I'd left everything I had on the pitch today, and was proud of my improvement in just a few short months.
"Active team is…Myself, Hayes, Birch, Weber, Poole, Carr, and Wood."
I couldn't help the stupid grin that appeared on my face, and my internal celebration prevented me from hearing the Reserve team names. It didn't matter though. I was now officially a Quidditch player for Gryffindor. My moment of bliss was cut short by a loud objection from Moss.
"What the bloody hell is this Weasley?" He said, "I played understudy to Alec for a whole year, and instead of me starting, you're gonna let this fuckin' runt play?" He said.
The older boy's face was red, and he was clenching his fists.
"Oliver made more saves than you today, and he came out looking sharper, there's no disputing that." Said Charlie.
"Bugger that." Said Moss, "I'm not being the reserve Keeper to a bloody third year."
He spat on the ground near Charlie's feet, and pushed several players away as he stormed off the pitch.
Charlie resumed addressing the remaining players, but Rosemary snuck over to me.
"Don't listen to that bastard. You completely outplayed him, and earned your spot today yeah?" She said.
I nodded, but the experience left a foul taste in my mouth on what should have remained a sweet moment.