1Chapter Ten

The quidditch field was wet with rain, but Minerva enjoyed the smell of wet grass. She followed Myrtle out to the broom cupboard to borrow a school-owned broom. In they found a collection of Cleansweep models 1, 2, and 3.

"Are Cleansweeps good brooms?" asked Minerva.

Myrtle shrugged. "They're good, but I've seen better. I've been studying quidditch ever since I found out I was a witch…I'm muggle-born, you know, so I wanted to know what I was getting myself into."

"Do you like muggle sports?"

"Oh no," Myrtle said with a shudder. "I can't run fast enough, and I'm not strong enough. Quidditch is a lot easier, because it requires thinking, and I can do that."

"Oy Myrtle!" came a voice from the entrance of the storage room. "What're you doing here? Surely not practicing to try for quidditch?"

"Yes, I am, Olive," Myrtle said with spite. "Got a problem with it?"

The girl named Olive laughed. "Quidditch with those glasses, you'll get so sweaty three minutes in they'll slide right off your nose."

Myrtle did not respond, but grabbed two Cleansweep 3's and stormed out of the room. Minerva followed.

"I absolutely hate that Olive Hornby, she's dreadful…"

They made their way to the middle of the field. "Right…we'll push off on three…one…two…"

And they were off. Minerva circled the pit, thoroughly enjoying herself. Myrtle seemed to be a little shaky, but also was having fun. "You're a natural at this!" Myrtle shouted over the wind. "Try out!"

"What's the point, it's my seventh year?" Minerva called back.

Myrtle shrugged, smiled, and shot straight up into the air, laughing. Minerva followed suit, and the thrill of it was enough to consider signing up for the team. Maybe Seeker…that required a keen eye, which Minerva had.

They touched down about fifteen minutes later, as it had started to drizzle. Both returned their brooms, and headed their separate ways – Myrtle, to her common room, and Minerva, back to Dumbledore's office, as she had a few questions about quidditch – she knew he would know when tryouts and such were.

He was there, grading papers, looking weary. "Bored with Lambert's essay already?"

"I haven't had a chance to get started," Minerva said, collapsing in her armchair. "I ran into Myrtle, she's in Hufflepuff, and she wanted me to play quidditch with her."

"An estimable sport," he said. "Are you considering trying for the house team?"

"I don't know…it's my seventh year, I'd feel kind of silly…"

"It's your decision," Albus said, "But I think you would find the experience enjoyable."

"I'll think about it, I just wanted to share…because I kind of felt like I was lying, even though my plans changed after I spoke with you…"

"Minerva, don't fret over small things such as that. I want you to have friends – you, of all people, deserve them."

"Yes, but they certainly are cutting into my homework time."

"You will learn to sort out your priorities," Albus said with a smile.

There was silence for a moment. "Albus, do you really enjoy spending time with me? This time we've spent together, well, it seems as if nothing has changed between us."

"It's hard to know where the line is between love and friendship," he said, "And our situation is very delicate. For that reason, I merely thought we were taking things slow. By no means do I wish to stop spending time with you. I enjoy the time we spend together, more than anything else."

Minerva smiled. "Okay, just making sure. I'm really going to do that essay now."

"Of course."

Minerva left his office for the second time that day, feeling very elated for some odd reason. Love? Perhaps she was willing to admit it.