Annie's Broom
At dinner, Harry told Ron what had happened that afternoon: Professor McGonagall had made an exception and introduced him to Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and he had successfully made it through the tryouts.
Just as you'd expect, Ron was in the middle of stuffing steak and kidney pie into his mouth. He gaped in shock and stood up, then hurriedly swallowed his food before exclaiming:
"What?"
"Harry!"
"You're joking, right?"
"Seeker?"
"But the professors said first-years were never allowed to try out for the Quidditch team!"
"You really made it?"
"Merlin!"
"I bet you're the youngest House Seeker Hogwarts has had in years!"
As he exclaimed, Ron looked at Harry with a trace of envy and jealousy.
Yes, jealousy!
He couldn't understand it. They were both first-years, and he'd secretly tried out a broomstick more than once at home. So why hadn't Professor McGonagall picked him? Instead, she'd chosen Harry, who'd grown up in a Muggle family and had only just had his first Flying Class and his first time on a broomstick.
He couldn't make sense of it.
"No!"
"I'm not the youngest Seeker. Annie is!"
"And she's the youngest in Hogwarts history—and maybe even in the whole wizarding world?"
Before Ron could go on feeling envious and jealous, Harry quickly revealed an even more astonishing truth, making Ron's eyes bulge all over again.
"Annie?"
"No way!"
"She..."
"But she's only eight..."
As he said it, Ron felt even more dejected.
It was bad enough that he couldn't measure up to Harry, who was his own age. Now he couldn't even beat a little girl three or four years younger than him. How could he possibly feel good about that?
Sure, he seemed to fall short in plenty of classes—Transfiguration, Charms, and especially