Dawn on the the next day, the day of the Quidditch tryouts, found Ron, who that night had had his recurring dream of winning the Quidditch World Cup, shaking Harry awake.

"Harry, wake up! I want to go practise early."

"So go," Harry mumbled into his pillow, trying to pull his covers higher over his face.

"No, Harry!" Ron yanked the sheets from Harry's face, half in hysterics. "You have to come throw Quaffles for me! Please please please, I really need the practise!"

Harry eventually had to give in, and they went out and practised for an hour, till Harry's limbs started to hurt. Ron had saved every shot, but was no less nervous for the practise session.

"You're a natural at this," Harry said, rubbing his aching shoulders. "You've got quick reflexes and all the skills, plus a terrific broom. You'll get on the team for sure."

The Gryffindor Quidditch house team tryouts began at ten-thirty, sharp. Fourteen Gryffindors showed up to try for Keeper. Ron stood with the other nervous hopefuls, clutching his Nimbus Feather-Light tightly

"Good turnout," Alicia Spinnet, the team's captain and a Chaser herself, said approvingly. "All right, let's see what you can do."

The tryouts were straightforward and uncomplicated. Silvestra Fawcett, the Ravenclaw Chaser, had graciously volunteered to guard the goals for the Gryffindor Keeper tryouts. The potential Keepers had to save ten shots of Silvestra's. Afterwards, they would fly through an obstacle course to test their agility. The rest of the team sat in the stands and made observations with Alicia.

Harry, sitting in the stands with Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindor team, saw a few players who were quite good. Behind him Fred and George made up rude nicknames for the Keepers and kept up a running commentary of their gaffes and blunders.

"Here's Triangle Face, swooping round, oh- there it goes, he's lost the Quaffle- how could he drop it? He was holding it right in his hands!"

"That one's Beanpole, she's longer than her broom-"

"Whoops, Beanpole's missed twice already- ah, here's Tire Tum, it's a wonder he can get off the ground at all."

"Tire Tum?" asked Hermione.

"Roundness in the tum is sometimes called a spare tire, my good prefect," Fred said to Hermione. "George, look at that one there, going round and round," pointing indiscreetly at the Keeper in question. "What does she think she's doing?"

"What, the loop-de-looper? I guess she's warming up or something. I'm getting a bit dizzy watching it."

"What is that boy down there riding, Fred, a Cleansweep Five? Awful piece of junk."

"We'll name him Slowpoke."

"There's Ron," said Harry, shading his eyes from the sun. "He's doing all right."

"His face looks a bit like that time he was belching slugs, doesn't it?"

While the seventh Keeper was having her goals test, Hermione started waving to a grey-haired figure climbing up the stands towards them.

"Professor Figg, over here!"

"Hello," Professor Figg said to the team, primly sitting down by them. She looked up into the cloudless blue sky. "Nice day for flying, isn't it?"

"You've nearly missed our brother on your broom, Professor," Fred said.

"Lucky I got here in time," said Professor Figg. "Look, there he is, he's going now. Is his face always that greenish colour? I didn't think it was... But he'll do fine, I'm sure."

Ron was among the few who saved all ten shots. Then, while Ron was going through the obstacle course, Harry heard the spectators in the stands murmuring in admiration at Ron's nimble dips and dives. Once he only nearly smashed himself on a great brick wall that popped up suddenly, but he swung his weight quickly to the left, rolled over twice in the air, writhed in the air, and went on without even having slowed down. He streaked through the obstacle course, earning the fastest time of all and missing only one hoop.

"The Shimmy!" cried Fred in amazement. "I didn't know Ron even knew that move!"

"What a broom!" said George, slapping his knee in delight and wonderment.

"What a Chaser," laughed Hermione. "Even I know he did well."

"That was a magnificent performance," said Professor Figg, pleased. "Imagine him knowing how to do a Woollongong Shimmy on that Feather-Light when he's only had the broom for one day!"

"A Woollongong Shimmy?" Harry repeated slowly, and he was put in mind of a conversation he'd had with Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's recognized authority on Quidditch, some years before, about an article in a Quidditch magazine. The Quidditch Quarterly had published an interview with the Montrose Magpies captain, a Keeper, and Oliver was explaining some of the more complicated moves spoken of in the interview. Harry heard Wood's eager voice in his mind: "And here he's talking about the Woolongong Shimmy, it's a bit like a zig-zag barrel roll. You can also do a double Shimmy but that's terribly difficult. Actually, this very Keeper did it in 1989 to save the Quaffle that could have won the World Cup for Nigeria but actually made England win."

"How do you know about Quidditch moves, Professor?" Harry asked Professor Figg curiously. "Do you play at all?"

"I'm too old to play Quidditch," Professor Figg said merrily. "I am a fan, though not as much as you or the Weasleys."

"What's your team?" Fred asked her.

"Montrose Magpies," Professor Figg said without hesitation. "Best in the league."

"Ron's a Cannons man," Harry said, and they all laughed when Professor Figg grimaced. "But if you don't play, how'd you get that broom, Professor?"

"It's- well, it's not mine. But I'm holding it for someone who- who said that I could use it if I wanted to. Only I prefer to lend it to your friend Weasley. I know he'll take care of it like- like its other owner." Was it Harry's imagination, or did the elderly woman's cheeks flush for a moment? He didn't have a chance to look closer, because George poked him in the back and said, "Here's Alicia-they're done the tryouts."

"Thank you all for coming," Alicia Spinnet was saying. "You all did fabulously. Unfortunately we only have two open spots this year, but a few of us will be leaving next year, so you can try again then! We'll announce our new team member in the common room after dinner tonight."

The day seemed interminable. Ron kept telling Harry he wished he had a Time-Turner to speed up the afternoon. He was so nervous that he barely touched his lunch and dinner, which was uncharacteristic of him; and he also steered clear of his homework, which was not.

Finally, dinner ended. Harry saw the teachers laughing as they watched all the students scrambling to get to their respective common rooms to find out their captains' decisions. In the Gryffindor room, Ron was on tenterhooks. Harry and the twins finally coerced Ron into a game of Exploding Snap, but when Alicia entered the room and called, "Could I have your attention please?" Ron's hand slipped and the whole game blew up in their faces.

"You all did marvellously today, but we can only pick one of you," said Alicia. "So our new Keeper is. drumroll please." Fred rapped out a passable rhythm on the charred tabletop. Ron's hands were clutched in white- knuckled fists. "Ronald Weasley!"

Ron screamed out loud in disbelief. "What!"

"You did it Ron, you're on the team!" yelled Harry over the clamour of people cheering for Ron.

"Ron, we knew you could do it!" cried Hermione, and hugged him quickly.

"Get up!" George said, giving Ron an encouraging push.

Ron stood, his face deep crimson but split ear-to-ear by a wide grin, and accepted the applause for the new Gryffindor Keeper.