Serpentine Virtues Chapter 1

Hello all, and welcome to my new project.

I'm trying to write a better story than last time (Bleeding Red and Gold REDUX), and I hope that I have improved. However, please do not expect daily updates from me like last time. I will be taking a three-week vacation starting next week. After that school begins, and I don't know how much time I will have. I will do my best to update periodically, but again, probably no daily updates.

Please don't flame me about Harry/Ginny. It isn't the final pairing. Just putting that out there.

I hope you enjoy this little tale.

WARNINGS: This story is Rated M for various reasons: language, provocative themes, etc. However there will (most likely) be no smut.

Disclaimer: This is the first and only disclaimer of the story. I don't own Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling and That-Publishing-Company-She-Uses.

oOo

"Jones has the Quaffle, and she's speeding towards the goalposts. Will England finally be able to score? Jones draws back her arm to take the shot and WHAM! Nice Bludger placement by Vulchanov, and England are still scoreless. The Bulgarians are leading the English 100-0. It looks as if time is running out for Harry Potter to do the impossible and bail England out yet again. Will Potter be able to practically single-handedly carry England to the World Cup Final, ladies and gentleman? We shall see…"

Twenty-two year old Harry Potter gritted his teeth in anger and frustration. Damn the stupid "experts" at the Department of Magical Games and Sports who'd chosen this year's starting seven members of the team. It seemed as if the experts and officials of that particular Department were either incompetent, or more interested in revenue from the World Cup rather than actually performing well.

Gwenog Jones was too old to be playing on the international stage against the best in the world. She was nearly thirty-five, and her speed and skill had somewhat diminished from her peak years while leading Holyhead to two consecutive Quidditch League Championships.

Keaton Flitley, another Chaser, was also past his prime. He'd been a decent Chaser, and superb at defence, back in the day, but now he just wasn't good enough to keep up with the young Bulgarian players.

The Beaters as well just couldn't handle the pressure placed on them by their younger Bulgarian counterparts. However, they'd all been chosen because they'd made a name for themselves when they were younger, and the Department had apparently believed that they would be successful. A big mistake, as they'd scored a combine eleven goals throughout the entire tournament. The entire tournament.

The only decent player on the team was Oliver Wood, who had kept games relatively close, giving Harry some time to catch the Snitch before Seekers became irrelevant.

While certainly not arrogant, Harry knew that he and Oliver were pretty much the only reasons that England was even in the semifinals. He'd had to bail the team out quite a few times, including catching the Snitch in an extremely tight 210-200 Round of 16 victory over Brazil. Wood had managed to keep games close enough for the Snitch to actually matter. This game was proving no different, and Harry knew that he'd have to find the Snitch and fast if he wanted a shot at winning the game. The Bulgarians had already passed the hundred point mark, and didn't look like they were going to stop anytime soon. Wood was only able to slow them down so much. Bulgaria had even began using a Chaser to tail and harass Harry as much as possible, in an effort to prevent him from seeing and catching the Snitch.

Krum, still the Bulgarian Seeker, was also no slouch. Even though it was eight years since he'd lost to Ireland in the finals with the rest of his team, he'd only gotten better, and Harry nearly bit on a couple of his Wronski Feints. The two Seekers were currently merely prowling the pitch, searching for the Snitch. Krum was much more relaxed than Harry. He could count on his Chasers winning the match in only a couple moments, especially considering the dismal performance by England's Chasers.

The commentary continued,

"Levski has the Quaffle. He passes to Ivanova. Bulgaria is controlling both Bludgers at the moment, so England's Beaters are completely helpless at this point. Jones, who looks to be relatively okay after getting hit in the arm with a Bludger, looks to intercept Ivanova. She takes another Bludger, this time to her left shoulder, for her troubles. Wood looks to block the shot, and he does. What a performance by Oliver Wood in this semifinal. Despite letting through ten goals, he has performed spectacularly, and has made at least thirteen saves. If only the rest of England, Potter excluded, would give him some help…"

Just then, Harry caught a glimpse of what looked like a glint of gold in the corner of his eye. He immediately snuck a look at Krum while still following the Snitch. Krum was looking the other way. The Bulgarian Chaser who'd been tailing him had drifted off a little, going to help the other Chasers on offense, thinking that they could quickly pass the one-fifty mark that would make Seekers irrelevant.

Harry immediately dove towards the Snitch, weaving between the Chasers and Beaters who had been flying around them below.

It took them a moment to recover, but Bulgarian Beaters Vulchanov and Draganov both sent the two Bludgers that they'd been controlling for practically the whole match right at him. Forced to perform the Sloth Grip Roll in order to avoid getting nailed, he lost a lot of precious speed, and Krum easily caught up to him and then passed him.

Still, Harry had always fancied himself a fast flyer, and there was nobody faster than him when diving. At least not in the English leagues.

He was slowly gaining ground on Krum, and soon he pulled level. Choudry, one of England's Beaters, had finally gotten hold of a Bludger and sent it at Krum, forcing him to dodge, checking his speed and letting Harry catch up to him. They were neck and neck, arms outstretched, hands grasping at the little winged ball. Unfortunately for the two Seekers, the Snitch was not going down without a fight. It quickly lifted out of the dive, avoiding the snatching fingers of Krum, and then dodging Harry's wild swipe. The crowd roared, as both Seekers plummeted, their feet brushing the grass, before they simultaneously rose and chased after the Snitch.

The Snitch weaved through the players effortlessly, with Harry and Krum struggling to keep up. They took a few injuries while they were at it, as Harry suffered a boot to the face from Levski, while Krum nearly crashed into Gwenog Jones.

When they finally burst free from the pack of players, they continued to climb, and looped through the air, following the Snitch's wild bid for freedom. Finally closing in on the damned ball, Harry knocked his counterpart's hand away. Knowing he only had seconds before Krum would knock him aside, he dove a little bit forward, nearly losing control of his broom in the process. Thankfully, he lunged forward just enough that he brushed the Snitch with his middle finger, and managed to coax the struggling ball towards his thumb, and he grasped the ball firmly between his two fingers, before closing his fist just as Krum knocked into him, nearly knocking him clean off his broom as he tried to regain control.

Still, he held his hand up in triumph, showing to the ref and the crowd of his achievement. The stadium exploded, with England's fans cheering wildly. England were in the Quidditch World Cup Finals for the first time in their history!

Wood hit him first. He'd always done so, even on their regular season team, Chudley. Wood would always be there to celebrate with him first after every single triumph, from his Hogwarts days, until now, at the international Quidditch World Cup. It was an absolutely marvelous occasion, and Harry felt incredibly jubilant at the victory.

After the celebrations had died down a little, and the veela horde below had been somewhat controlled, the victorious English Team shook hands with the dejected Bulgarians. After the press conference, in which Harry continued to defend his teammates for their performances, despite his thoughts on the contrary, Harry and the rest of his teammates headed out to a local bar for a drink.

Soon, a drink led to two, then four, and then it just led to a night of drinking. Finally, Ron and Hermione, searching for him, found him at the bar and dragged him home, where Ginny gave him a dressing down before helping Harry clean up somewhat, before they headed to bed.

oOo

After the war, Harry Potter hadn't been sure what to do with himself. He had originally wanted to be an Auror, but a lot of the shine and prestige of the job was gone after seeing so many deaths in the final battle against Voldemort. He had no other real career paths to pursue though, so Harry enrolled in Auror school. For the first couple years, he was content. He worked at the Auror office, he rekindled his relationship with Ginny, and he'd done his best to succeed at becoming an Auror.

He would've become an Auror if Ginny hadn't been studying literature and writing at the same time. One day she got a job as a sports columnist, and became hugely successful for her succinct, accurate reports of sports, quite contrary to Rita Skeeter's often biased accounts. Ginny's job led the two of them to see professional Quidditch games often, and it wasn't long before somebody suggested that he fly again, and see how he liked that.

He'd known, as soon as he'd gotten back onto a broom, that flying was what he wanted to do. So, he'd honed his skills for a year, dropping out of the Auror Academy while he was at it. Ginny whole-heartedly supported his move, having earned enough money to support the two of them from her journalism.

After a few tryouts, Harry entered the 2000 Draft with high hopes, and was drafted to Chudley in the First Round. While happy that he'd been given the chance to go professional, he didn't really want to be with a team that had traditionally ended seasons at the bottom of the standings. Still, he'd done well in the 2000-2001 season with Chudley, and they even made the playoffs that year, losing in the first round to perennial contenders the Ballycastle Bats. They'd been flattened in that match, yet Harry was at least somewhat consoled by the fact that he'd caught the Snitch, if only to save his team from further embarrassment. Still, they'd improved a lot that year.

In fact, when Puddlemere Keeper Oliver Wood was transferred to Chudley in 2001, they had even been given a shot at the title, something that hadn't happened to Chudley in twenty years. The added benefit was that Ron now was crazy about his Chudley Cannons. He'd been an avid fan in his youth, but now he was crazy about them. He tried his best to watch every game live, or at least watched replays, and took every opportunity to ask Harry if he needed anything, anything, in order for success. Harry, amused at his friends antics, told him to do an increasing number of ridiculous acts in front of friends, and even began charging fares from people like Neville, before Hermione put her foot down.

Harry had gotten a stern reminder of why Hermione was considered the brightest witch of their age. He still shuddered at that memory at times.

In the 2001-2002 season, Harry and Wood carried the Cannons to the semifinals of the league, the best by Chudley in twenty-three years. They were knocked out by the Bats once more, but it was actually a close match this time. Nothing like the absolute blowout of the year before.

Harry was dubbed by many as the "next rising star," and with his contract running out, many newspaper reporters believed that Harry could be the most valuable player in the league at the moment.

Harry had hired Daphne Greengrass early on as his agent. This was mainly due to two reasons. One, she was an excellent agent who'd secured incredible contracts for top players of the league. Two, she had been the Ice Queen in school, and knew all the tricks involving warding off attention. Harry hired her for that reason. He did NOT need more media attention after Voldemort's defeat at his hands.

Ginny had initially been jealous of Daphne's beauty, her wit, and her abilities. Still, she couldn't deny that she was perhaps the best agent out there, and accepted Harry's decision to take her on board as his agent.

Daphne had negotiated and excellent contract for Harry that had him returning to Chudley. The Cannons' players had been steadily improving since Harry's rookie season, as the presence of the Boy-Who-Lived combined with the fact that they actually managed to start win games caused them all to work harder, and now they were a respectable team. They weren't elite by the league's standards, but they were good enough to make the playoffs consistently.

When Harry was chosen for the Quidditch World Cup as England's starting Seeker, he'd been overjoyed. He'd been given a golden opportunity to showcase his abilities on the World stage. He'd done it, to a certain extent, but it was becoming quite taxing, and Harry felt that a couple more stressful games could very well lead to a terrible season with Chudley when they got back. That would not be good.

The team just wasn't good enough. They'd been thrashed in nearly every single game, and Harry had had to bail them out every time.

Still, he was on the brink of immortal glory. Winning the Quidditch World Cup for England, in the first ever final that they'd made it to, would forever immortalize him in the record books as a Quidditch legend, not as "the-Boy-Who-Lived." Here was a chance to make his mark on history based on his own achievements, instead of something that had happened to him as a toddler.

Harry spent the next few days practicing, and celebrating with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione in their apartment. Their practices were light, and two days before the final, he gathered the team after their last practice before the match.

"Alright. We're the underdog here. Jones, Flitley, and Vosper, just hold them. Hold them to one-fifty. This is the World Cup Finals. You'll probably never get another chance like this again. Leave it all out there in two days. Choudry, Withey, I want you to control those Bludgers for longer than two fucking seconds, alright? Control the defence, and Potter will win us the game. Wood, you do your thing in the posts. Stop as many shots as possible. In two days, you will all be possibly be playing in the biggest match of your careers. Now, take the day off tomorrow, and enjoy it. Enjoy the feeling of being on a team in the Final. Then, go out there on Sunday and kick their butts. Got it?"

The team responded with a chorus of rousing cheers and "yeses", before each headed towards the locker room. Daphne was waiting for him, standing there holding some files in her hand with a Muggle pen stuck behind her ear.

"Hey, Potter." She greeted him as he placed his gloves and broom into his locker, before peeling off his jersey.

"Really, Daphne, after two years, you still can't call me by my first name?" Harry asked. It had been his standard response to Daphne's greetings ever since she'd become his agent.

Daphne snorted.

"Perhaps when you earn it. Anyways, there's a promotional event occurring tomorrow afternoon for the new line of Potter jerseys that they're selling. They want you there to sign some autographs and just meet the kids who'll be buying the jerseys."

Harry groaned. While he certainly enjoyed working with kids on Quidditch, autographs and promotional events were an absolute bore to him.

"Think I can cut this one?" Harry asked, peeling off his jersey and chucking it into the laundry bundle.

Wrinkling her nose, Daphne responded, "No. You've already cut the last two promotional events. You've got to go to this one."

Harry agreed reluctantly to go, and Daphne flashed him one of her famous smiles that were known to have a boy drooling within seconds. Still, Harry had gotten used to it after a couple years with her, but he still winced at the memory of the first time she'd done that to him. He'd look like a real idiot, standing frozen with his mouth open. She'd never acted very flirtatious in school, but it seemed that after school was over, she'd lightened up considerably. It had been one of the factors that had helped her become vastly successful.

She was still single though, which was surprising considering the number of suitors she'd had, but Harry didn't dwell on it too much. He was more concerned about his own life.

Harry watched Daphne leave, before taking a shower and changing into a regular tee-shirt and jeans. Wood waited for him, as they often left together.

"She fancies you, mate. I'm telling you." Oliver said. This had been their longstanding conversation over their agent, Daphne.

"Oliver, I'm married. I don't even care if she fancies me or not. And honestly, I highly doubt that she does." Harry replied tiredly.

"Besides, I know you fancy her. Just go after her."

Wood adopted a hurt look.

"I've tried. She's shot me down over and over again, as you very well know."

Harry smirked at him.

"So much for ladies man Wood, eh?"

Oliver said, "At least I'm not tied down to a girl. I can roam the bars and pubs freely."

Harry laughed. He had no regrets about marrying Ginny. She'd been a loving wife so far, and they'd had a pretty happy relationship together. Harry bade Oliver goodnight at the hotel that they were staying at, and watched Oliver head off to the bar of the hotel. Shaking his head in amusement, he headed upstairs to his room.

He unlocked the door, and entered, finding Ginny waiting for him wearing his favorite pair of blood-red knickers and a matching bra.

He smiled. He was in for a wonderful night.

oOo

The next day, Harry woke up to movement. Ginny was trying to squirm through his arms. He held her tightly, but after a little bit, she managed to escape. Groaning at the loss of warmth, he opened his eyes, only to immediately shield them as Ginny opened the curtains to their hotel room.

"Gah! It hurts the eyes. Pull the curtains over, Gin." He said, shielding his eyes with his arms.

Ginny merely laughed, and poked him.

"Time to get up, sleepyhead."

Harry eventually forced himself up, and padded to the bathroom, taking a shower and cleaning up his appearance until he was alright.

As he exited the bathroom, he found Ginny writing what looked like an article for Witch Weekly.

With his wife's management, Harry was now able to read Witch Weekly without shuddering. Although he still wouldn't do it willingly.

Looking up as he entered the room, Ginny said, "Hey, Daphne called earlier. She wanted to let you know that the promotion thing is around five."

"Okay. What will you do in the meantime?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged. "I might go into the city to look around for things. I've never been to Seoul. I want to check out what items the Muggles have for sale around here. I might be able to take home a present for Dad as well. Something I know he'd really like."

The rest of the morning was spent in relative harmony as the two just relaxed and enjoyed each other's company. Harry was going through all the Quidditch plays that they'd practiced over the past couple of weeks, despite the fact that he knew most of them were irrelevant considering the ability of the Chasers and Beaters.

It was an old team. England really needed to field some younger talent out there. Still, they'd made the final, and tomorrow would be the biggest match of Harry's career.

Finally, after a lunch provided by room service, and then a quick "nap", Harry got ready for the promotional event. Putting on a jersey, and grabbing his wand and broom, he left Ginny still sleeping under the covers after their rather strenuous afternoon.

After walking out of the hotel's ward line, Harry Apparated to the promotional event, where Daphne was waiting for him.

Daphne quickly informed him of what he was supposed to do. First. a couple laps around the pitch, then talk to the kids, and sign autographs for about an hour or so, before showing off a few cool tricks on the broom, and then answering a last few questions. After that, he'd be free to go.

Harry thanked Daphne, to which she responded, as she always did, by requesting a pay raise jokingly. She then shooed him out on to the field, where he was met by a roar of adulation from the kids and other fans out there who had come to see him.

He flew his laps around the pitch, before setting down in a space reserved for him, where he took up the microphone and talked to the kids about Quidditch. It was mostly trivial things, such as specific diving techniques, and distraction techniques. Afterwards, he headed down into the crowd and began signing autographs. After half an hour had rolled by, his hand was really beginning to hurt.

As he took a pause from signing, wringing his hand a little, to which the nearby spectators laughed and patted his shoulder in sympathy, he cast a look around the pitch, and noticed Daphne talking urgently in low tones to what looked like an Auror. They were both casting glances at him as well, and he could've sworn he saw tears in Daphne's eyes, as well as the grim look on the officer's face.

He knew something was up. Still, he was in the middle of the crowd, and he couldn't do anything. When the time allotted to autographs finally expired, Harry returned to the stage. Daphne and the officer had disappeared. He was still shaken at the tears he was certain he saw in Daphne's eyes. In the years that he'd known Daphne, she'd never cried. Not once. It just didn't happen. What on Earth had the Auror told her?

Although he performed a few neat tricks in the air on his broom, his heart wasn't really in it. He couldn't wait for the promotional signing to be over.

Finally, the announcer of the event closed the event, and Harry, with a last wave at the crowd, left to the locker rooms, where he felt that Daphne would be waiting for him.

Sure enough, she was there, her head in her hands, no longer the epitome of the impeccable Slytherin Ice Queen that she'd upheld for all these years.

Harry sat down quietly.

"What happened?"

Daphne looked up at him.

"Something terrible happened, Harry. I'm so sorry." She whispered, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

Harry felt his breathing become shallow, dreading her next words.

"They found your wife. She was killed in a freak accident while in a Muggle store. I'm so sorry, Harry." Daphne said in the faintest whisper, almost afraid of his reaction.

Harry sat there, dumbfounded. In fact, if Daphne hadn't been there to catch him, he might've fallen backwards onto the floor.

Daphne pulled Harry into a crushing hug, whispering, "I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry was stunned speechless.

'This wasn't real. This couldn't be real.' He kept thinking.

"No." Harry said quietly.

"No. No! NO!" Harry began shouting. Daphne quickly waved her wand, placing wards that prevented sound from leaving the locker room.

"No…" Harry said in a broken whisper, before slumping into Daphne's arms.

Daphne couldn't even bring herself to be happy about Ginny's death. No matter what feelings she'd harbored for Harry, she couldn't bear to see him in pain like this.

All she could feel for Ginny Weasley was sadness and regret, despite their rather strained relationship.

After all, she cared enough about Harry to wish for his happiness above all else.

oOo

I hope this new project is interesting for you all. As always, if you want a reply from me, I suggest PMing.

This story does take quite a different path from my original story.

Thank you for reading. Please review.