THE WITCHING HOUR ➸ h. potter

8 - at midnight

My heart sank faster than I'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward us.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts-"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, " - how dare you - might have broken your neck-"

"It wasn't her fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil-"

"But Malfoy-"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Walker, Potter, follow me, now."

Oh no.

I caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as we left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle.

I was going to be expelled, I knew it. I wanted to say something to defend myself, but there seemed to be something wrong with my voice.

And new Harry was going to get into trouble as well. Because of me. If only I had let the ball fall!

Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at us. I had to jog to keep up. Now I'd really done it. I hadn't even lasted two weeks here. What would mum say when I turned up on her doorstep?

Up the front steps we walked, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to us. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with the two of us trotting miserably behind her.

She suddenly stopped outside a classroom. Opening the door and poking her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? I thought, bewildered. Was Wood a cane she was going to use on me?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Follow me, you three," said Professor McGonagall, and we marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry, then me.

"In here."

Professor McGonagall pointed us into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the three of us.

"Walker, Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker and Chaser. "

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?" he asked, looking ready to hug her.

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "They're naturals. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick?"

Harry nodded silently. So did I. I didn't have a clue what was going on, but I didn't seem to be getting expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back into my legs.

"She caught that thing in her hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch herself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it. I'd put the girl as Seeker, but you can test them both out and see what you think."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch?" he asked us excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's the build for a Seeker," said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. "Light - speedy - we'll have to get them a decent broom each, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say. Maybe her as Seeker though . . . you're right. I'll just have to test them both out."