The Protector

Lemon Drops

We had just gotten done with our last class of the day, and people were starting to crowd the corridors.

I need to go see Dumbledore. I need to go see Dumbledore.

"Seeker and Chaser? First years never get chosen for House Teams," Ron was so excited by the fact that Harry and I were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. "That means you must be the youngest Quidditch players in-"

"A century. McGonagall told us herself," Harry inturrupted Ron. He was holding his head up high.

"Be careful Harry," I said. "It's not nice to brag."

"Hey, well done Harry," George came up and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You too, Bridget," Fred came up next to me.

"Captain Oliver Wood just told us the news!" They said in unison. Sometimes when they did that, it would freak me out.

"They're on the team. Beaters," Ron explained as we were walking.

"Our job is making sure you two don't get rushed to the Hospital Wing until the end of the game," George explained as he scruffed up Harry's hair.

"Can't promise that though. It's a rough game, Quidditch is," Fred said. Sometimes it was confusing to tell who was who, but I was able to manage. One was a bit more built than the other.

"Terribly rough, but nobody has died yet," George explained.

"Some may not come back for a little while," The other one nearly yelled as walking away.

"But they always come back in a month," Then back to the other one, who yelled out to us.

I sighed and rubbed my head, I can't be in Quidditch. There's no way. I'll get myself killed.

Ron then started to calm us down with some words like, "It the best game." and stuff like that. I noticed Hermione show up by my side.

I sighed, "Hey 'Mione."

"What if I can't play and just make a fool of myself?" I hear Harry ask.

"That's highly unlikely. It's genetic for you," Hermione stated.

"What?" I ask.

Hermione brought us to this glass cabinet filled to the brim with plaques and trophies. "Woah," I whispered. It was so shiny.

Hermione pointed to a plaque that said: James Potter.

"Woah! Harry! How come you never told me that your father was a seeker?" Ron nearly yelled. Well idiot, he never met his father, let alone know he was a wizard. I highly doubt he knew this.

"Because I didn't even know," Harry simply stated.

"And, Bridget, if you're worried like Harry," Then she pointed to a trophy. The trophy read: Eleanor Jackson.

Was that my grandmother?

"Well, guys, I have to get going. I'll meet you later, when we go back to the common room," I said, turning around and walking to my left.

"Where are you going?" He called.

"A Professor wanted to see me. I'll see you later," and I ran. That wasn't nessessarily a lie, so I didn't feel that bad about it. I was going to see Professor McGonagall to ask her where Dumbledore's Office was, so it wasn't a lie. I just didn't tell the whole truth.

I ran to McGonagall's room, and (thankfully) she didn't have a class. I looked in, and she was sitting at her desk, writing something. I walked in, up to her desk.