Rowan Haywood

Book 1: Chapter 8 - An Unexpected Talk

Harry and I grabbed our brooms at the same time.

"No!" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move -- you'll get us all into trouble."
We both ignored her. "I go left, you go right." I whispered in his ear. Blood, pounding in my ears, I mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up I soared; air rushed through both of our hair, and my robe whipped out behind me. In a rush of fierce joy I realized that I found something something could do without being taught in Hogwarts -- this was easy, this was wonderful. Harry pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher while I stood up and planted my feet on the broomsticks. I heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

"Flying's not that bad" I thought to myself while glaring at Malfoy.

Harry turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair and Malfoy looked stunned.

Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!" "Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.
Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfay like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called. The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy. "Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

We both saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall.

I yelled "I'll catch it!"

I leaned forward and pointed my broom handle down -- next second I was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball -- wind whistled in my ears, mingled with the screams of people watching -- I stretched out my hand -- a foot from the ground I caught it, just in time to pull my broom straight, and I toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in my fist.

"HARRY POTTER, ROWAN HAYWOOD!"
　　
Both of our hearts sank faster than when I just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward us. Harry flew down and got to his feet, trembling. I was rubbing the back of my neck while being nervous.
　
"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 --" I gulped.

"It wasn't their fault, Professor --"
"Be quiet, Miss Patil
"But Malfoy --"
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now. You too, Haywood."

Harry and 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 just knew it. I wanted to say something to defend myself, but there seemed to be something wrong with my voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at neither of us; Harry had to jog to keep up while I had to speed walk.

"Now I done it. Both Harry and I hadn't even lasted two weeks. we'd be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would my parents say when I turned up on the doorstep? What's going to Happen to Harry went be goes back to his foster family who treats him like trash?" I thought to myself while feeling guilty.

"......"

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to anyone. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry and I trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking us to Dumbledore. It's not our fault Malfoy stole Neville's Rememberall. "We both just wanted Malfoy to give it back. Was it wrong? No it's not. Even if I get expelled, I can spell do other things." I thought positively, even though not convinced.
　　
Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked 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 the both of us? I looked to the side and saw that Harry's face was pale.

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwicles class looking confused. I sighed a breath of relief. "Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and we all marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry before looking at me with the same curiosity.

"In here."

Professor McGonagall pointed them 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(I made a mental note to never miss with her). Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys and I.
　　
"Potter, Haywood, this is Oliver Wood. Wood -- I've found you a Seeker and a Chaser." Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight. "Are you serious, Professor?"
　　
"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The boy and girl's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"
　　
Harry nodded silently. He looked like he didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to be being expelled.

"Was it your first time too, Haywood?" she asked, looking at my direction.

I nodded. "Although my mother(Mc) wanted me to ride a broomstick, my mom(Penny) said that it was too dangerous and didn't let me ride one."

"She caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch herself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it. Their teamwork was admirable, especially when they've only met for a few days."
　　
Oliver was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly. "Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained. "He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. "Her build also fits for a Seeker even though it also fits Chaser..."

"It's alright. I don't mind giving Harry the position." I answered and Oliver sighed a breath of relief.

"Then it's decided. Harry's the Seeker and Rowan's the Chaser." Oliver said, clapping his hands.

Just as we were about to leave, Oliver slammed his fist onto the palm of his other hand. "Light -- speedy -- we'll have to get the both of them a decent broom, Professor -- a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

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 the face for weeks...." Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at us.
　　
"I want to hear you're training hard, Haywood, or I may change my mind about punishing you. You too, Potter."

Then she suddenly smiled.

"Your father would have been proud," she said to Harry. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."
　　
"You're joking." Harry was dumbfounded.

"Your mother would've also been proud of you, Haywood. She was also an excellent Quidditch player herself and she had played Quidditch with all 4 positions in her time in Hogwarts."

"You're kidding." Saying almost the same exact words as Harry.