Chapter 7

Quidditch

"You two look like you've just taken a beating," Ron said cheerfully as he met up with them in the Transfiguration classroom.

"Maybe because we just spent two hours trying to concentrate as hard as we could with Snape breathing down our necks as we made Veritserum," Harry said irritably as he and Hermione collapsed into chairs on either side of Ron. Hermione remained silent as she dug out her Transfiguration book.

"Well I was just promoted to the N.E.W.T. division of Muggle Studies!" Ron exclaimed happily. Harry could tell he had been wanting to tell him and Hermione about it all morning.

At this Hermione looked up and beamed at Ron. "That's great," she said, her face glowing.

"Yeah, they told me I knew so much about it already that I needn't go through the introductory courses. I think I knew so much because of Dad's outrageous collection of plugs and batteries and all that." He leaned back in his chair, stretching his lanky frame. "Who knew all that junk Dad studies could be useful?"

Just then, McGonagall briskly walked into the room. A respectful silence fell over the room as she walked up to her desk. "I'm not going to tell you this year will be easy for you, because it won't be. You will find yourself stretched beyond all reason during your seventh year while you prepare for the real world. You completed the first half of the N.E.W.T. courses last year and this year won't be getting any easier." Ron groaned—he had had lots of trouble with Transfigurations last year. Harry knew Hermione would inevitably be helping them in preparing for their N.E.W.T. testing in June. "Now, today we shall discuss human transfiguration. We won't actually begin working practically with it until October, but please begin by taking notes…"

Everyone was grateful when the bell rang for lunch. Harry's head was swimming: truth potions and human transfiguration all in one morning can get rather confusing. "Well, at least we have Hagrid's class to look forward to this afternoon," Hermione said, studying her schedule as she grabbed the tray filled with prime rib from the middle of the table. "That should be rather easy compared to our other classes."

"Let's hope it is," Ron said, sighing. "I can't take much more of all this in our first day back."

In the middle of the meal, Moody came up to the them at the Gryffindor table. "Having a good day back?" he asked gruffly.

"A bit tiring so far," Harry replied exasperatedly.

Moody grinned his lopsided grin. "If anyone can handle the pressure of N.E.W.T.s at Hogwarts it's you three. You've all had quite a few adventures from what I've heard." They all glowed at Moody's compliment as he bent down and whispered in Harry's ear. "Potter, when are you available for your first training session? We have to get going on that again."

Harry thought for a moment. Snape's essay and McGonagall's ten-page assignment in the N.E.W.T. workbook loomed over him, as did the Quidditch tryout that would happen on Friday to replace Katie Bell and Zachary Lyons from last year. "Um…Thursday evening?"

"Thursday it is, Potter. You have a lot on your plate already from what I can see." He straightened up. "Goodbye, Miss Granger, Potter, Weasley."

"Bye." As he walked back to the head table, the bell rang for the end of lunch. "Let's hope Sprout is easy on us," Harry added as they walked off to the greenhouses for Herbology.

That night the seventh years—Harry and Hermione in particular—found themselves with a pile of homework larger than they had even fathomed during the summer. "I've been on this…stupid page…forever…" Ron grumbled as he tried to get through the workbook pages McGonagall had assigned. Hermione didn't retort at him for once, as she was engrossed in her Potions homework.

It was already midnight. Harry put down his quill and rubbed his face with his hands. "I wish Fred and George were here, they would lighten the mood a bit." A few fifth years were sitting at a table across the room, and Ginny was curled up reading her Charms book by the fireplace, but otherwise Hermione, Ron, and Harry were the only ones left in the common room.

"Me too, mate, me too," Ron said, crossing out yet another one of his answers in the N.E.W.T. workbook. "I just can't get this!"

While still writing her Potions essay, Hermione dug out her wand, muttered an incantation, and Ron's paper was clear except for the right answers. There were only two that were still blank. "The answers that you got wrong are still blank, but if you came up with the right ones, they should be legible now."

"Thanks, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, looking down at the two blanks in front of him. "Hey! I know those answers too!" He excitedly worked the problems out by himself.

"Provides me with an easier way of correcting those obscure answers too," Harry heard Hermione mumble under her breath. Harry turned back to his still empty roll of parchment. This was going to take forever…

Harry again was the last of his dormitory to wake up. There was a figure standing across the room, busying himself with something in his trunk, but Harry couldn't make out whom it was. He sleepily rolled out of bed and pulled on his robes. "Harry! I want to talk to you about something." The figure walked across the room and Harry recognized the voice as Neville's. He felt a pang in his heart as he thought of what that clumsy boy had been through in the past couple months.

"Oh, hullo, Neville."

"I wanted to talk to you about Friday and the Quidditch tryout."

Harry stopped what he was doing and thought, Oh no. Don't try out for the team, Neville. I'd have to judge you. "Yes, I'm listening."

Neville took in a deep breath. "Harry, I want to try out for the team as a Chaser."

Gaping at Neville, Harry's heart sank. He couldn't have Neville on the team or Gryffindor's chances of the Quidditch Cup were shattered—he had seen his classmate fly and it wasn't pretty. "Well," Harry began slowly, "there's always room for more people to try out…"

"I know you're thinking I'm not good at Quidditch. I'll admit I'm not the best at it, but I've been practicing a lot over the summer and I think I have a shot at it. I want to do it…for my parents." Neville's voice cracked a little. "You've seen them, Harry, in our fifth year at St. Mungo's. Dad played in his younger years and I want to make them proud. V-Vol-Voldemort won't stop me from living my life and my dream." Harry looked at Neville's determination and realized that he had finally grown out of his pudginess a bit over the summer. Neville had grown leaner and taller, his face, less round than Harry had remembered, gave him an actual handsome look. "I know I'm still clumsy, but please consider me, Harry." At that, he walked out the dormitory door, leaving Harry still in his pajamas.

Harry got through the rest of the week all right, even Moody's training session. He hadn't had any mishaps in Potions yet, even though Snape still thought it necessary to dock at least twenty points from Gryffindor every class period (Harry wasn't worried, however, since Hermione gained them back quick as a flash with other teachers). Even his potion still matched Hermione's after every single class. But before he knew it, Friday night rolled around. He hadn't told anyone about the conversation he had had with Neville earlier in the week, so once Neville walked out onto the field, a broom under his arm and sheer determination on his face, Ron was shocked. "Neville?" he said, a bit too loudly for Harry's liking, so he shot Ron a death glare. Taking the hint, Ron went silent.

It was a good turnout. There was a wide range of people there: Neville, Colin Creevey, and a bunch of other people Harry didn't know. Ron motioned that he wanted to talk to him. "Harry, why is Neville here? You're aware of how clumsy he is. It'll ruin Gryffindor's Quidditch reputation!"

"Just give him a chance, Ron," was all Harry responded. He didn't want to explain Neville's situation quite yet. "OK, everyone, line up starting right here. There are two positions open for Chaser, and I'm sorry to say right away that not all of you will be on the team. Now, I will try my best to simulate a real game. Ginny will fly with you, so you will always have the option to throw it to her, although you have to be the one to throw it towards the hoops, which Ron will be guarding. Seamus and Dean will hit Bludgers at you as well, so be sure to watch out for those, which I will let out in a minute. You will try and throw the best out of ten scoring attempts. Any questions?" The lineup of rookies didn't say a word, although many of them looked green and some fidgeted. "OK then, who's up first?" A timid petite girl with waist-length auburn hair tied back into a ponytail stepped forward. She looked about ready to faint. "What's your name?" Harry asked kindly.

"Sara...Peterson," she managed to say.

"Well, Sara, let's see what you can do. I'm letting the Bludgers out now!" he called to Seamus and Dean. They nodded and Harry flew above to watch the tryout. Ginny lightly threw the Quaffle towards Sara, who actually stopped in midair in fear of catching it, not unlike what Ron had been like when he started in their fifth year. Harry lowered his head. This would be a long couple hours.

"Next!" Harry called from where he was near the goalposts. The line had gotten much shorter, even though no one really stuck out to him as astonishingly good. One girl early on had gotten seven out of the ten attempts, but other than that things were getting rather ugly. He looked up to see Neville striding towards the middle of the field, his broomstick dragging behind. Gulping, Harry prepared himself for disappointment—Neville had never been much of a standout in anything. Especially after their conversation earlier in the week. "OK, Neville. Show us your stuff."

Nodding his head, Neville mounted his broom with such grace that Harry did a double-take to make sure it was the same Neville Longbottom he had met on the train a little over six years ago. Ginny flew with him and tossed the red Quaffle in his direction. Harry held his breath as he watched Neville soar through the air, seemingly effortlessly. He caught the Quaffle and put it under his arm instinctively just like any Chaser would. A Bludger soared in his direction, sent by Dean. Harry thought he would have a direct hit, but at the last minute the once pudgy and clumsy boy swerved out of the way. With only Ron blocking the goal in front of him, he went left (as did Ron), and threw the Quaffle towards the right hoop, and skimmed in off the rim. It was one of the best shots Harry had ever seen.

The crowd of amateur Quidditch players roared with appreciation, filling the empty stadium with such a loud noise that Harry thought people in Hogsmeade would be able to hear it. Neville Longbottom, a standout Chaser? A smile crossed Harry's lips, but it couldn't beat the one on Neville's face. "I did it, Harry!" he yelled.

"Now just do that exact same thing nine more times and you'll have it in the bag," Harry called back.

Enjoying the feeling of success, Neville quickly put in another score. He had tossed the ball back to Ginny so quickly that Harry was afraid she would drop it herself. She threw it back to him and he drove to the hoops, beating Ron to the ring and scoring once more. The next he threw it in the air and tapped it in like a volleyball player. They all went in. All ten of them. The crowd still cheered Neville on as he sank towards the ground again. Harry knew he had one more tryout, but one thing was for sure: Neville Longbottom had just made the Gryffindor Quidditch team.