A Maze of Dreams

Chapter Eight:

"Professor Quirrell, may I borrow Wood, please?" McGonagall asked when we finally stopped.

Harry and I shared a look of terror. She was going to beat us! With a stick!!

To our relief a tall teenaged boy stepped out of the room without a stick or any type of wood.

Harry mouthed to me: 'Is he going to beat us?'

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, recalling the conversation I had heard between Fred and George. They mentioned a Wood. Why would Mcgonagall want the Gryffindor quidditch captain?

We made our way to an empty classroom and after pushing the door open we found no other than Peeves the Poltergeist busy copying bad words down on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" She loudly ordered in distaste. Peeves obeyed cursing the whole way out, only to be cut off by Professor McGonagall when she slammed the door shut.

"Mr. Wood, this is Elaine Walker and Harry Potter, Gryffindor's new chaser and seeker." She introduced with a small grin.

"Are you serious, Professor?" Wood asked, as if the fact that we were first years was astonishing. Considering the rule about first years and quidditch it probably was. It was actually, to me.
I just about died of shock, I had to put my hand on Harry's shoulder just to keep my face off the ground. "So.. you're not going to expel us?" I asked weakly.

She looked at me with confusion. "Why on earth would I do that, Miss Walker?" She asked incredulously.

"I don't know.." I answered while still in shock. "I-we just weren't expecting this."

"I'm Oliver Wood," the teenager replied with a grin. "I'm the Gryffindor keeper/quidditch captain. It's a pleasure to meet you both." He was very tall boy with short chocolate brown hair and eyes to match. He looked to be about a fifth year and he seemed nice enough.

"If we could all adjourn to the quidditch pitch, we can begin your training, Miss Walker, Mr. Potter. I will excuse you all from your classes for the next hour. Now off we go, I want to beat Severus, er-Slytherin house this year." She said, a fierce determination in her eyes as she gazed at us.

"How do you know that we'll be any good?" Harry asked finally as we walked. "No offense, El."

"None taken," I replied.

"No first year could handle school brooms like you two did during your first flying lesson, and it's not surprising given your family histories. Quidditch runs in your blood." She replied simply. "Not to mention that regrettably no one else in Gryffindor house could throw a quaffle to save their lives." She added with a frown.

"In other words," Wood mused. "We're desperate."

"I see..It runs in our blood?" I asked suddenly as I tried to match Mcgonagall's pace.

"I suggest you both visit the school trophy room when you have a spare moment, I believe that you will both find your answers there." She answered as she briskly walked.

"I'm confident that we're going to win this year," Wood grinned enthusiastically. "We'll be unstoppable, with a lot of practice of course." There was a definite hunger in his eyes. He really wanted to win.

"Don't get cocky, Wood." Mcgonagall warned with a slight smile.

"Never, professor." He replied innocently. "They'll need decent brooms, Professor - Nimbus Two Thousands or Cleansweep Sevens,"

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first year rule. Heaven knows we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in that face for weeks.." McGonagall replied with a shake of her head.