A/N:: Hello all! I've been working on this first chapter ever since I
played Harry Potter; Quidditch World Cup. The inspiration for a semi-
quidditch based story just flew at me, and I caught it. Of course, it soon
flew away with me, but what the heck. So, here's the first chapter of Life,
As It Is. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: This characters and basis of this story are by no means my own creation. They are the original and brilliant design of J.K. Rowling, and all credit for them is due to her.
Harry entered his London flat and stumbled into his bedroom. With a grunt, he tossed himself onto the queen-sized bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the red satin clothed pillow. It was four o'clock in the morning, and he had just escaped the post game party celebrating Puddlemere United's narrow win over the Holyhead Harpies. The game had ended at somewhere around ten the previous evening, and the party lasted well into the morning hours. Harry was lucky to have made it out alive. Around every corner of the plush hotel they were celebrating in, were more people eager to congratulate the Boy-Who-Saved-The-Game, as Ron had been quick to name him. The night had been spent in the arms of one Captain Morgan, a muggle drink that the Ron and Harry were rather fond of on occasion. Everyone was eager to buy him another drink as a congratulatory gesture, and the result was a very unconscious Harry. After a nice dose of pepper-up potion however, he was in tiptop shape, according to Ron who also found it terribly romantic to propose to the nearest house-elf.
Harry apparated himself back to the flat after making Hermione promise that she would get Ron home safely. That was all Harry remembered for a long time, if long is closely connected to two hours. He was rudely awakened by a splitting headache making itself known in a very nasty way. Eyeing the clock suspiciously, he saw that the hand with his picture was currently pointing at 'hung-over' and the Ron's hand was pointing to 'sleeping'. Wonderful housewarming gifts of sorts from the Weasleys, the clock's twin was gracing Ron's bedside table. Harry rolled off the side of the bed in his earnest attempt at standing on his feet and crawled in such a manner to the bathroom that any passerby would doubt the evolution of the male race. He was nearly to the cabinet when he realized that it was not a task for the weak at heart, or legs in his case. He crawled angrily back to his bed and fished around in his discarded robes for his wand. Grabbing it, he held it in between his teeth and painstakingly made his way back into the bathroom. He levitated a sobriety potion down from the medicine cabinet that loomed overhead. Then, he chugged down a dosage of it and relaxed on the floor, waiting for the minty formula to get to work.
Within minutes, he was refreshed and on his feet. Looking in the mirror, he saw that the medicine apparently affected only the inside. His eyes were bloodshot and laden with bags. Grunting at his reflection in what seemed a very manly way, he rounded on the shower, turning it on, and adjusting the temperature as cold as it would go. He laid out a towel and then stripped off his trousers and shirt; the only remnants of his clothes from last night. Then, bracing himself, he jumped into the icy stream of water.
A room over, Ron was dreaming happily of a very amiable house elf named Kiki, when a yelp dragged him from his slumber. He reached for his wand, and jumped up, as alert as was to be expected the morning after such activities as he had pursued. He heard the shower running in the bathroom and tip toed over to the door. He knocked on it gently.
"Harry?"
"Ahhhhhhhh!!" Came the bellowed reply.
"What's the matter?" Ron yelled, storming into the bathroom. Just then, the water turned off and Harry's hand appeared from behind the curtain, desperately seeking his towel. Ron picked it up and placed it in his hand. A few seconds later, Harry pushed back the curtain and stood, teeth chattering in front of a very amused Ron. Of course, as soon as he realized there was no immediate danger, his head readily scolded him for daring to move in such a fashion. Walking, indeed! Grimacing, he fumbled for the sobriety potion. He drank some down greedily and a pleased look passed over his face. Harry snorted and reached into the closet to grab a towel for Ron, who would want to take a shower as well, once he looked in the mirror. Then, without another word, Harry about faced and shut the door of his room to get dressed. He pulled on a broken in pair of jeans and a Puddlemere shirt. He ran his fingers through his untamable hair and walked out to get something to soothe the savage noises that were being emitted from the stomach region.
A scream and five minutes later, Ron joined him in the kitchen to scarf down a few bowls of cereal. As Harry was about to pour himself a third bowl, he noticed that they were dangerously low on milk.
"Ron, I thought you were going to go shopping yesterday!" He growled. Ron looked up sheepishly and grinned.
"I thought I was, too. But, I got off of duty late, and then it was right to the party. You know how it is, 'ol boy!" He explained, clapping Harry on the shoulder.
"Well, at any rate, we should probably go shopping together today. Just to make sure that we get everything we need. The last time I let you go shopping alone, all you bought was beer and crackers, both of which we had plenty of already." Harry said with a sour expression gracing his face. At the guilty look on Ron's face though, he couldn't help but laugh. "Shall we go now?"
"Yeah, I suppose. But I want to be back in time to listen to the game on WWN! The Chudley Cannons are playing today." He did a mock victory dance around the kitchen. "If they win this game, they're in the finals!" Harry rolled his eyes and grinned at his best friend's antics.
Half an hour later, they were making their way through a muggle store, armed with plenty of muggle money and a shopping list that they had compiled. Harry was just reaching for a package of cheese, when Ron rounded the corner. He had his arms filled to the brim with items from their list. He tossed toilet paper, three loaves of bread, and a few bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Harry tossed in the cheese and then the two headed off to the third aisle to get napkins. Along the way, they picked out a few bottles of soda and a bag of chips to get them through the game.
"Should we invite Hermione over to listen to the game with us, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Yeah right. I'm sure Hermione would just LOVE to listen to an entire quidditch game with us ranting and raving in the background." Ron grinned and left it at that. "Besides, I'm sure she has something better to do today. After all, it is..." He stopped dead in his tracks and stood looking on in horror. Ron turned to him worriedly.
"Harry? What's the matter?"
"H..H..Herm...ione."
"What about her?"
"It's her birthday! We forgot her birthday!" Ron's face drained of all color and even his freckles seemed pale. At the same time, they raced to the front of the store and paid quickly for the groceries. When they exited the store, they shrunk the packages and stowed them away in their pockets.
"Uh...uh...DIAGON ALLEY!" Harry cried. "We can get her..a..a book or something."
"Yeah, yeah. Good thinking." Ron said shakily. "How could we forget her birthday!?" They disapparated and within a second, were standing at the entrance of Diagon Alley. Ron whipped out his wand and tapped the wall, then stood back as it formed the arch that would grant them entrance into the epitome of the wizarding world.
"We'll have to stop at Gringotts first." Harry mentioned to Ron as he started walking forward into the swarm of people that had already accumulated for a day of shopping. Ron nodded in agreement and was right on Harry's tail.
It took them ten minutes to make their way to Gringotts between the people aimlessly milling about and people stopping Harry to congratulate him on his victory. As they approached the massive white edifice, the crowds seemed to thin a bit and it was easier going. They jogged up the steps and were ushered into the doors by a stubby goblin. Harry pulled out his wallet and fished around for the small golden key that would open his vault. He handed it to the goblin that came forward to assist them, and within a matter of minutes, they were hurtling down the tunnels towards Harry's vault.
The small cart slammed to a halt in front of vault 687 and the two young men were ushered onto the dark platform. The key was inserted and before they could blink, they were standing in front of a vault filled with gold, silver, and bronze pieces. Harry reached in and grabbed a handful of galleons and placed them in a sack, then repeated the process with the sickles and knuts. When he was finished, he motioned to the goblin, which shut the door and guided them back to the cart. One stomach-flipping ride later, they were standing in the main entrance to Gringotts once again. They walked out into the pale sunlit day and made their way to the famous wizarding store, Flourish and Blotts.
Disclaimer: This characters and basis of this story are by no means my own creation. They are the original and brilliant design of J.K. Rowling, and all credit for them is due to her.
Harry entered his London flat and stumbled into his bedroom. With a grunt, he tossed himself onto the queen-sized bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the red satin clothed pillow. It was four o'clock in the morning, and he had just escaped the post game party celebrating Puddlemere United's narrow win over the Holyhead Harpies. The game had ended at somewhere around ten the previous evening, and the party lasted well into the morning hours. Harry was lucky to have made it out alive. Around every corner of the plush hotel they were celebrating in, were more people eager to congratulate the Boy-Who-Saved-The-Game, as Ron had been quick to name him. The night had been spent in the arms of one Captain Morgan, a muggle drink that the Ron and Harry were rather fond of on occasion. Everyone was eager to buy him another drink as a congratulatory gesture, and the result was a very unconscious Harry. After a nice dose of pepper-up potion however, he was in tiptop shape, according to Ron who also found it terribly romantic to propose to the nearest house-elf.
Harry apparated himself back to the flat after making Hermione promise that she would get Ron home safely. That was all Harry remembered for a long time, if long is closely connected to two hours. He was rudely awakened by a splitting headache making itself known in a very nasty way. Eyeing the clock suspiciously, he saw that the hand with his picture was currently pointing at 'hung-over' and the Ron's hand was pointing to 'sleeping'. Wonderful housewarming gifts of sorts from the Weasleys, the clock's twin was gracing Ron's bedside table. Harry rolled off the side of the bed in his earnest attempt at standing on his feet and crawled in such a manner to the bathroom that any passerby would doubt the evolution of the male race. He was nearly to the cabinet when he realized that it was not a task for the weak at heart, or legs in his case. He crawled angrily back to his bed and fished around in his discarded robes for his wand. Grabbing it, he held it in between his teeth and painstakingly made his way back into the bathroom. He levitated a sobriety potion down from the medicine cabinet that loomed overhead. Then, he chugged down a dosage of it and relaxed on the floor, waiting for the minty formula to get to work.
Within minutes, he was refreshed and on his feet. Looking in the mirror, he saw that the medicine apparently affected only the inside. His eyes were bloodshot and laden with bags. Grunting at his reflection in what seemed a very manly way, he rounded on the shower, turning it on, and adjusting the temperature as cold as it would go. He laid out a towel and then stripped off his trousers and shirt; the only remnants of his clothes from last night. Then, bracing himself, he jumped into the icy stream of water.
A room over, Ron was dreaming happily of a very amiable house elf named Kiki, when a yelp dragged him from his slumber. He reached for his wand, and jumped up, as alert as was to be expected the morning after such activities as he had pursued. He heard the shower running in the bathroom and tip toed over to the door. He knocked on it gently.
"Harry?"
"Ahhhhhhhh!!" Came the bellowed reply.
"What's the matter?" Ron yelled, storming into the bathroom. Just then, the water turned off and Harry's hand appeared from behind the curtain, desperately seeking his towel. Ron picked it up and placed it in his hand. A few seconds later, Harry pushed back the curtain and stood, teeth chattering in front of a very amused Ron. Of course, as soon as he realized there was no immediate danger, his head readily scolded him for daring to move in such a fashion. Walking, indeed! Grimacing, he fumbled for the sobriety potion. He drank some down greedily and a pleased look passed over his face. Harry snorted and reached into the closet to grab a towel for Ron, who would want to take a shower as well, once he looked in the mirror. Then, without another word, Harry about faced and shut the door of his room to get dressed. He pulled on a broken in pair of jeans and a Puddlemere shirt. He ran his fingers through his untamable hair and walked out to get something to soothe the savage noises that were being emitted from the stomach region.
A scream and five minutes later, Ron joined him in the kitchen to scarf down a few bowls of cereal. As Harry was about to pour himself a third bowl, he noticed that they were dangerously low on milk.
"Ron, I thought you were going to go shopping yesterday!" He growled. Ron looked up sheepishly and grinned.
"I thought I was, too. But, I got off of duty late, and then it was right to the party. You know how it is, 'ol boy!" He explained, clapping Harry on the shoulder.
"Well, at any rate, we should probably go shopping together today. Just to make sure that we get everything we need. The last time I let you go shopping alone, all you bought was beer and crackers, both of which we had plenty of already." Harry said with a sour expression gracing his face. At the guilty look on Ron's face though, he couldn't help but laugh. "Shall we go now?"
"Yeah, I suppose. But I want to be back in time to listen to the game on WWN! The Chudley Cannons are playing today." He did a mock victory dance around the kitchen. "If they win this game, they're in the finals!" Harry rolled his eyes and grinned at his best friend's antics.
Half an hour later, they were making their way through a muggle store, armed with plenty of muggle money and a shopping list that they had compiled. Harry was just reaching for a package of cheese, when Ron rounded the corner. He had his arms filled to the brim with items from their list. He tossed toilet paper, three loaves of bread, and a few bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Harry tossed in the cheese and then the two headed off to the third aisle to get napkins. Along the way, they picked out a few bottles of soda and a bag of chips to get them through the game.
"Should we invite Hermione over to listen to the game with us, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Yeah right. I'm sure Hermione would just LOVE to listen to an entire quidditch game with us ranting and raving in the background." Ron grinned and left it at that. "Besides, I'm sure she has something better to do today. After all, it is..." He stopped dead in his tracks and stood looking on in horror. Ron turned to him worriedly.
"Harry? What's the matter?"
"H..H..Herm...ione."
"What about her?"
"It's her birthday! We forgot her birthday!" Ron's face drained of all color and even his freckles seemed pale. At the same time, they raced to the front of the store and paid quickly for the groceries. When they exited the store, they shrunk the packages and stowed them away in their pockets.
"Uh...uh...DIAGON ALLEY!" Harry cried. "We can get her..a..a book or something."
"Yeah, yeah. Good thinking." Ron said shakily. "How could we forget her birthday!?" They disapparated and within a second, were standing at the entrance of Diagon Alley. Ron whipped out his wand and tapped the wall, then stood back as it formed the arch that would grant them entrance into the epitome of the wizarding world.
"We'll have to stop at Gringotts first." Harry mentioned to Ron as he started walking forward into the swarm of people that had already accumulated for a day of shopping. Ron nodded in agreement and was right on Harry's tail.
It took them ten minutes to make their way to Gringotts between the people aimlessly milling about and people stopping Harry to congratulate him on his victory. As they approached the massive white edifice, the crowds seemed to thin a bit and it was easier going. They jogged up the steps and were ushered into the doors by a stubby goblin. Harry pulled out his wallet and fished around for the small golden key that would open his vault. He handed it to the goblin that came forward to assist them, and within a matter of minutes, they were hurtling down the tunnels towards Harry's vault.
The small cart slammed to a halt in front of vault 687 and the two young men were ushered onto the dark platform. The key was inserted and before they could blink, they were standing in front of a vault filled with gold, silver, and bronze pieces. Harry reached in and grabbed a handful of galleons and placed them in a sack, then repeated the process with the sickles and knuts. When he was finished, he motioned to the goblin, which shut the door and guided them back to the cart. One stomach-flipping ride later, they were standing in the main entrance to Gringotts once again. They walked out into the pale sunlit day and made their way to the famous wizarding store, Flourish and Blotts.