Jami Evans and the Sorcerer's Stone - Year 1

Seeker, You're a Keeper.

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

"Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at me. I shrugged at him and we both followed her.

"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 to face us. "Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood -- I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight. "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The girl's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

I nodded sheepishly, running a hand through my hair nervously. I kind of had a clue what was going on but it was very faint. Maybe I wasn't going to be expelled after all.

　"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."

Wood was looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" He asked excitedly.

I smirked. "Yeah."

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

"Just the right build for a seeker." Wood observed, walking around me as he did so. "Maybe a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep 7..."

"Wasn't my father a Chaser?" I asked and McGonagall's eyes went wide.

"Yes, why, Potter?" She asked.

"Well--I'd like to take after him...honor his footsteps as a Chaser. So perhaps Harry could try out for Seeker?" I asked. Wood's eyes momentarily dimmed.

"We will see, Potter." McGonagall replied. "I understand that you are much like your father but that doesn't mean you have to be his exact copy, James."

"Of course not, Minnie." I said cheekily and Wood choked. "I wouldn't dare to be his reincarnation."

McGonagall's eyes narrowed and she swept out of the room. Oliver found his voice at last.

"I can't believe you called her that." He stared at me as if seeing an entirely different person.

I shrugged. "my father did."

Oliver laughed. "Tell me, you got good reaction times?" he asked.

"Yes." I examined my fingernails. "I once caught a wooden cork that my cousin had thrown at me. 100 miles per hour it was going, yet I caught it. My fingers hurt after, but it was worth it."

Oliver's face lit up. "Seeker--you're a keeper." He grinned and I found myself smiling back.