7. Tryouts

Impatiently, Minerva packed up her things. It was her first week back after the summer holidays and the teachers seemed to assume that most of their students had indeed forgotten everything they had learned in their first year at Hogwarts. They all started their lessons by doing a little revision, and so when the bell rang after Transfiguration, Minerva's desk was littered with a wide range of objects from simple needles to a whole tea set.

She left everything as it was and approached Professor Dumbledore's desk. "Hello, Professor," she said, since she hadn't spoken to him alone yet.

"Hello, Miss McGonagall, did you have a good summer?" he asked.

"Yes, Professor. But I'm excited for the new school year."

Dumbledore looked past her at all the successful Transfigurations she had managed today and smiled. "I can see that. But if you were hoping for homework, I'll have to disappoint you."

"No, Professor, I just wanted to let you know that I would like to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year," she said.

Watching her over his half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore asked, "Did you get permission from your parents then?"

Minerva bit her lip. "Sort of."

"Would you like to elaborate on that?" Professor Dumbledore asked. It didn't sound like a request.

"My mother said it was okay. She was Quidditch captain herself once. My father said Quidditch sounded more dangerous than Rugby, which he wouldn't let Robert Junior play either."

"Rugby?" Dumbledore repeated curiously. "Which sport was that again?"

"It's really just two teams fighting over an oddly shaped ball until they end up in one giant heap of tangled limbs, blood and sweat," she tried to explain it very roughly.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Muggles do have the most interesting pastimes, don't they?"

"Uh, I guess," Minerva agreed. Personally, she had never seen the appeal in any of them. And she most certainly did not do so now that she knew what it was like to fly. "But, er, what about Quidditch, sir?"

His expression once again more serious, Professor Dumbledore asked, "Do you have a broom?"

"No." Racing brooms were quite expensive and her father wasn't even completely on board yet, which made it difficult to convince him to spend so much money. She would have to borrow one of the school broomsticks. But she had decided not to let that stop her. "I'd like to try anyway."

Dumbledore gave a little nod. "I will add your name to the list before I pass it on to Mr Royston."

"Thanks," Minerva smiled, then paused. "Are there many names on that list, sir?"

"A few," Dumbledore replied rather unhelpfully.

"Oh, okay, well, I'll see you at dinner then, Professor," Minerva said, finally turning to leave.

"Oh yes, today is 'Treacle Tart Tuesday,' I believe. And good luck to you."

Minerva grinned and hurried after her fellow classmates. She couldn't wait for the tryouts. She even had a harder time focussing on school until the date and time of the Gryffindor team tryouts were finally posted on the notice board in the common room.

Augusta walked down to the Quidditch pitch with her for moral support, which Minerva appreciated once she saw the turnout. It wasn't just the Gryffindor Quidditch team and everyone who hoped to join. Many more Gryffindors had come down from breakfast to watch out of curiosity, since it was a Saturday morning and reasonably good weather.

Noah Royston had only just been named captain and it showed in the way he held on to his clipboard a little too tightly. He was clearly anxious to make the right choices for the team. If the players he picked turned out to be dreadful and they lost them a chance to win, it would reflect badly on him. And he had no less than three spots to fill. The Chasers and Beaters were both down a man and, perhaps most importantly, they needed a new Seeker, too. All three of these players had graduated last year and left the Gryffindor Quidditch team in a state of disarray.

Clutching her borrowed broom to her chest, Minerva surveyed the competition. She was not the youngest student on the pitch today. There were two first-years who were also holding school brooms, and now that Minerva was in her second year, they looked very small to her. She was more worried about Duncan Bayfield from her year, whose presence here was not very surprising since he'd been telling everyone about his new broom for ages. And then there were lots of older students, who had both better brooms and more height and experience. But they didn't seem worried about Minerva and so Minerva tried not to worry about them either. Most of them wanted to be Seeker anyway.

Including Duncan. Royston had decided to start with the Seeker. He probably thought that this would be his most important decision of the day. When he asked everyone who was interested in playing Seeker to step forward, more than half of all waiting students did.

Minerva and Augusta settled on the ground to watch. It wasn't pretty. There were a couple of naturally born fliers, but that did not make them naturally born Seekers. Some had trouble spotting the Snitch until it was practically zooming right up their noses and others simply couldn't break fast enough to catch it. They kept overshooting it by a mile. Funnily enough, Duncan really was the best of the lot. He was smaller yes, but faster and more mobile, too, on his new Comet 180. Royston didn't look particularly thrilled to let a second-year play Seeker for him. Minerva hoped that wasn't a bad sign.

The Beaters were next. Royston tried to make up for Duncan's slim build by choosing the biggest fifth-year who tried out for the position. Kyle Tarney looked rather ferocious on a broom and he had good aim. Minerva was hopeful that he would be a good addition to the team.

She couldn't pass judgment on the others, because it was finally time for the Chasers. Now that it was Minerva's turn, she desperately wanted to steal Duncan's broom. She was riding a Cleansweep One, the best the school had to offer, and it simply wasn't as fast. It had been in the school's service for so long and hadn't always been handled with the greatest care that it tended to break out to the left at the most inopportune times.

Like when Minerva was just about to score. Royston had divided them into groups of three and asked them to play against each other. Minerva had caught the Quaffle when a third-year called Ben Voysey had dropped it. She was speeding towards the goalposts as fast as her broom would let her. One of the Chasers from the opposite team tried to block her, but Minerva dived quickly – a move she had practised in her flying lessons last year whenever Madam Hooch hadn't looked too closely.

Just when Minerva was about to aim, though, her broom jerked to the left and the Quaffle went wide, missing the hoop she had aimed at by a wide margin. Kenny Howes, the Gryffindor Keeper, didn't even go after the Quaffle, too busy laughing. Angry with herself, her broom and Kenny, Minerva gave a burst of speed and dived after the Quaffle to catch it. Then she looped back fast and aimed again. Still laughing, Kenny wasn't ready for that manoeuvre and this time Minerva scored, which was the best way to make the Keeper shut up.

When Royston signalled her, Minerva landed and watched the remaining candidates. Augusta gave her an encouraging thumbs up, but Minerva wasn't happy with her performance. Eventually, Royston walked over to her.

"I've picked Marigold to be our third Chaser. She was the best by far," he told her, not bothering to mince words. Then again, it had been a long couple of hours for all of them. "But I'd like you, Clarke and Greenbloom to come on as reserve players. I really like the way you fly. Sure, you missed once, but that move you made afterwards was great. I think I'll use that for our next game if you don't mind. And if you had a better broom, you know..."

"Thanks, Noah," Minerva said, trying to manage her disappointment. She had always known that beating out all these other Gryffindors on a school broom would be difficult.

As if to rub it in, Duncan walked over to her. "Told you I'd get in on this beauty," he said, patting his Comet.

"Yeah, well, congratulations, Duncan," she replied, because it was the polite thing to do and because she had a feeling that he would stop gloating as soon as the pressure of winning the game actually rested on his shoulders.

"Sorry that you didn't make the starting line-up," he added, catching her by surprise. "Would have been fun not to be the only one from our year."

"You'll have to do better than me then and not make us look bad."

"Better than you? Is that even a thing?" Duncan grinned.

Minerva supposed it was a compliment, but she wasn't in the mood for it.

Royston made a couple of announcements and scheduled their first practice while the onlookers slowly got bored and returned to the castle. Minerva let Augusta know that she should go ahead without her. When Royston decided that they were done for today, she returned her broom, left the Quidditch pitch and found a spot by the lake to do some of her reading. She knew the Gryffindor common room would be abuzz with the news of who had made the team and busy discussing their chances of winning the Cup this year. Right now Minerva felt like she was a part of that and at the same time she wasn't. And so studying seemed a lot easier than to listen to all that talk.

She read until the light began to fade. Then she slowly made her way back up to the castle and stopped on the front steps when the sunset caught her eye. Sinking onto the steps, Minerva watched as the sun painted the sky a deep red.

"Marvellous, isn't it?"

Minerva craned her neck, but before she could even think to get back to her feet, Professor Dumbledore had simply sat down next to her.

Since Minerva was only blinking at him stupidly, he continued, "Not even the most brilliant piece of magic could have painted it any better. A great reminder not to take ourselves too seriously, I think."

He winked at her as if they were sharing a secret, sitting here on the front steps, bathed in the reddish-gold rays of the dying sun. Minerva wasn't completely sure if she understood, but the mysterious beauty of the Scottish hills reminded her without a doubt that this was home.

"I'm sure you could have created something equally beautiful, sir," she said.

"I'm flattered by your faith in me, as misplaced as it might be," Professor Dumbledore replied.

Minerva frowned. "Can't you practically do anything, Professor?"

"Alas, no. Nor would I want to."

"Why not?"

"That would make life dreadfully boring, wouldn't it?" His spectacles glittered in the low sun.

Minerva shrugged. "At least there wouldn't be any more nasty surprises."

"There would also be no more good surprises," Dumbledore countered.

"Are you saying that there's always more than one way to look at things?" Minerva asked.

"That does sound like something I might say, doesn't it?" Dumbledore looked amused.

Minerva waited for her Head of House to say more. But he continued to watch the sunset as though he regularly left the castle to sit here and do just that.

In the end, it was Minerva who broke the silence. "I didn't make the Quidditch team, Professor."

"Didn't you?" Dumbledore replied lightly, his eyes still on the horizon. "I distinctly recall seeing your name on the piece of parchment Mr Royston gave me."

For a second there, Minerva's heart had sped up, silly enough to hope that Professor Dumbledore had overruled Noah's decision, which of course he would never do (and she wouldn't really want him to either). Her shoulders slumped. "Only as a reserve player," she pointed out.

"Doesn't this mean that you will practise with the team?" Dumbledore asked.

"Er, yes, it does," Minerva said, remembering that Royston had scheduled their first practice for next Wednesday.

"And should one of your fellow Chasers ever feel unable to play, which we shouldn't hope for, of course, won't you take their spot?"

"Yes, sir," Minerva had to nod.

Now Professor Dumbledore turned his head to meet her gaze. "I might be wrong, but that sounds to me like you did make the team – and on a school broom no less."

Minerva gaped at him. As much as she had tried to focus on her reading, she had been thinking about this all day, her disappointment in herself pulling her under. But now that Professor Dumbledore had shifted her focus from not being in the starting line-up to being a part of all team activities in the ideal position to practise her flying and get better, she suddenly felt a lot lighter. She really had needed a different way to look at it.

"I see what you did there, Professor," she said.

"I was under the impression that I was merely watching this particularly mesmerising sunset," Dumbledore said, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Minerva smiled. "That was a great idea then, Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I do have my moments."