A/N:
Summary: AU Lily and James separated just after Harry was born. Lily moved to France with Harry and James stayed in England. Placed during GOF.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, characters, logos and all related names, phrases and images are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and/or their respective owners. Or, in other words, they're NOT mine.
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Some people believed in luck and faith and their grip on the outcome of the future. Harry Evans was not one of those people. Their loss in the quidditch match against Ireland had not involved any luck or any touch of faith's hand. No it had entirely been their own doing; the team hadn't been able to find the accuracy to be any kind of match against the Irish Chasers.
"Merde" Harry cursed.
They had been on such a good winning streak lately. Qualifying for the Quidditch World Cup against all expectations. Then they had survived the survived the pool and had even been able to kick Italy out of the tournament. It was such a shame they had to lose from the Irish now in the quarterfinals.
When Harry looked around in the locker room he saw that his team mates were experiencing the same mixed emotions as he was. Most of them looked like they didn't what to feel. Pride, for making it to the quarterfinal or disappointment, for not making it any further. Just when Harry was about to decide which of the two would get the upper hand the coach entered the locker room.
"Well played guys, well played, nothing to be ashamed about. You gave it your best and that's all anyone could ask from you guys. Be proud of yourselves. I think we made France into a Quidditch country a bit more."
That was true Harry realized just then. France had never really been a quidditch loving country. But for the past few weeks more and more people seemed willing to go to matches and dress up for it. Harry had seen today's crowd, it was larger then it had ever been before. Adrenaline started pumping trough his veins again just thinking about the amount of people that had cheered for them today.
"Well," the coach said interrupting Harry's strain of thought, "Hit the showers guys. And I'll see you all in the press room for the press conference..." And with that the coach left the locker room leaving some proud looking French quidditch players behind.
Harry smiled; the coach always had that effect on the team. They had found some kind of natural balance he thought. The team tried to please the coach, and every time the coach complimented them about something they felt good even after the most magnificent of losses (of which, thankfully this wasn't one).
So Harry hit the showers, knowing that most of the press would probably want to talk to him anyway. Harry smiled at the thought. Yes, qualifying for and playing in the Quidditch world cup had been really good for his career, having already received multiple invitations from foreign Quidditch team. There were times that Harry felt a bit guilty about all the fame going to him and not his teammates since they (in his opinion) deserved it just as well as he had.
At least Harry had some time to think about the offers given to him by all the foreign teams. Since he still had his last year of school to finish before really starting off as a professional Quidditch player. That had be a promise to his mother when he first started of a player for the National team. In order to start training with them as a minor he needed permission from his parents, or in his case, his mother. And she said she'd let him if he finished school before starting a career with a team. And now he only had one year to go before he'd be allowed to start of chasing his dream. Playing professional Quidditch in the English League.
Harry contemplated about school on his way to the press room. Harry had been curious about the upcoming school year ever since he had heard rumors about the upcoming year being special. Harry had also heard rumors about Madame Maxime having to travel to London for meetings with the British ministry for International Magical Cooperation. But, Harry thought, Madame Maxime was way too good at hiding secrets so he'd find out whenever she decided to share her secret with the world.
Meanwhile, Harry had arrived at the press room and had made his presence known to his coach who already was answering questions from curious reporters. When his coach beckoned him forwards he strode towards the podium and sat down on the chair and awaited the inevitable questions...
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"NATHAN POTTER, if you don't get out of bed this very instant I'll be forced to take drastic measures."
Nathan Potter, Boy-Who-Lived and prankster extraordinaire, looked up from his comfortable sleeping position to see his dad towering over him, ready to use whatever way he had in mind to wake him up.
"Okay, okay, I'm up already, no need to shout." Nathan said removing his comfortable sheets and getting up. "Now, if you could please leave my room so I can get dressed I'd be very much obliged."
After his father had left the room Nathan got up and changed himself into a more suitable outfit to be out and about in and went downstairs to enjoy breakfast. And it was only then that he saw what time it was; five forty-five in the fucking morning. Blegh, this was not good for his mood. He knew he'd have to get up this early to make it to the portkey that'd take them to the World Cup, but that it would feel this early he hadn't realized.
When he had finally eaten some kind of decent breakfast, utterly annoyed by his way to cheerful father. They started to get ready to leave towards the World Cup. First, they'd have to walk to the Portkey, which was about a mile and a half from their home and then they'd have to find their tent at the campsite.
After walking for about five to ten minutes Nathan finally started to wake up a little bit and feel the same excitement as his father had felt all morning already. "Too bad England didn't come further then it did, huh?"
Nathan looked up to see his father looking at him expectantly. "Yeah, but then again, the way they performed in the semis, they hardly deserved to go to the final." His father smiled, "true, true, I'm already glad they did better then France. We would never have heard the end of it if they hadn't."
Nathan nodded in agreement,"Yeah, Harry and Lily wouldn't have let us forget it if France had made it further than England."
Although they hardly ever met Nathan knew of the existence of his half brother Harry and his half brothers' mother, Lily. The only memory that he had of ever meeting the two was about three years ago, just before his first year to Hogwarts when his father and Lily had decided that Harry should meet his father and half brother and they should meet him. After that, the only contact they had was Christmas and birthday cards and the occasional letter. But Nathan knew for sure that if England hadn't made it further then France Harry and Lily would've reminded them of it until their dieing day. Especially with Harry being in the French national team.
Nathan smiled wrangly, that was the only thing he envied his half-brother for, his quidditch genes. True, Nathan could play a fair game of quidditch and even, at times best his father in the game, but, it was Harry who had gotten the full blast of the sporty genes in the family.
Finally after walking for about twenty minutes they had reached the portkey site, which was abandoned apart from an old worn down wooden crate. Nathan doubted more people would show up, he and his father were probably the only people who had been able to get tickets to the final game.
And Nathan was right, because at 6.32, two minutes before the portkey would be activated no-one else had arrived yet.
"C'mon son" his father said, "grab it, we'll be of in a moment". And indeed, no ten seconds after he grabbed the crate he felt the familiar tug behind is navel that was the tell tale sign that the portkey was activated. And before he fully realized what was going on he and his dad hit the ground again, almost knocking him of his feet in the progress.
He father laughed at that, "well, at least you're getting better. You used to be unable to stay on your feet when landing." Nathan cheeks turned slightly pink at that comment, remembering the embarrassing fall he had made after a portkey landing when he was younger. And apparently, his father saw the slight color change in his cheek, because it set him of in a laughing spree.
Then two ministry officials arrived to pick up the now useless portkey. "The 6.34 from Godrics' Hollow," one of them said, picking up the crate, while the other signed it of on a piece of parchment clipped onto a board. "Hi James," the first one said obviously recognizing his father, "how're you doing on this mighty fine morning?
Nathan noticed that the wizard was awfully cheery for someone who had been up all night collecting used portkeys. "Fine Henry, just fine." his father replied. "Splendid, "the wizard said, "now let me see, where your campsite, Potter, Potter is. Ah, here it is. Go four-hundred meter in that direction," the wizard pointed in a vague direction, "and then it's the first field you see. Your tent should be right next to Arthur's'. He'll be able to help you from there."
"C'mon Nathan," his father said, turning to were the wizard had pointed them, "let's go." After a small walk, which was barely worth mentioning, Nathan saw the first signs of the fact that they were approaching the campsite for the world cup. Wizards were obviously walking all over the place; groups of more then twenty people were entering some very small looking two person-tents. Youngsters were playing with toys that were obviously not muggle made. Nathan could here his father sigh of the thought of what the ministry was going to say about this after the cup.
"Nathan, Nathan." Nathan looked up at the sound of his name to see his friend Ron Weasley calling him from the other side of the field. Nathan smiled and wave to Ron as a sign that he saw him. When he and his father had arrived at the tents Ron immediately pulled him into the Weasley's tent to show him around. Nathan sought eye contact with his father -who was now discussing this with Arthur Weasley-, and when he finally found it his father made a quick gesture with his head that told Nathan all he needed to know and he went into the tent with Ron.
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Harry smiled as he sat amidst his team mates watching the final game of Bulgaria versus Ireland. They, he and his team mates, had decided not to go home yet and watch the Final game of the cup. And since they had reached the quarterfinals they were automatically invited. Harry noted that the English team was the only other team that had stayed to watch the Final.
Personally Harry hoped that the Irish would win 'cause then everyone at home would say that they'd lost from the best. And that, in his opinion, was better then losing from the second best. Cause he, if you couldn't lose from the world champion, who could you lose from.
And the Irish were looking good so far, their lead of 130 points to 10 would probably not be diminished by the Bulgarian Chasers. But the Irish needed a lead of at least 60 points more if they wanted to win the game, because, as Harry knew from personal experience, their seeker was not the best point of their team.
The game was a harsh one to say the least. Krum had already crashed Lynch into the ground with a Wronski feint. And now the Irish were given a penalty for rough play by the Bulgarian Keeper. Which, apparently, the Irish Gnomes found very funny, as they now spelled the words "HA HA HA". The Veelas, who were on the other side of the field, did not like this and started singing again. Harry let go a bellowing laugh as the whole male audience put their fingers in their ears as one man. He himself hadn't done that, living in close vicinity of a half Veela for about six years. And he now had at least the self control not to move while they were singing.
Apparently, someone else hadn't put his fingers in his ears also. The referee was now in front of the Veelas, showing his muscles, trying to impress them. Harry heard the commentary say something, but since his attention was elsewhere he missed it. Now, a Mediwizard came running down the field and kicked the referee against his leg. That worked apparently, because the referee seemed to be getting his senses back.
Now the game was really getting bad, after trying to expel the Bulgarian mascots from the field, the Bulgarians were starting to play ugly. And so were the mascots, the Veelas were apparently very insulted by a gesture made by the Irish Gnomes and started to attack them. Showing their weird bird-like shape in the process. But Harry wasn't really paying attention to that anymore, because Lynch, the Irish Seeker, was now building up speed and that could mean only one thing.
"He's seen the Snitch" Harry yelled, "Lynch's seen it." And he got up to see it better, and with him it seemed to him, so did the entire stadium as they started to realize what was going on. Lynch was now chasing the Snitch, Krum hot on his tail. Krum, who was by far, the best seeker of the two started gaining ground on Lynch. And then the Snitch dove down, forcing them both to dive at the ground. Harry saw it go wrong before it even happened; Lynch didn't have the skill to get out of the dive quick enough and crashed into the ground (again). Krum however didn't seem to have any problem to straighten out his broom and get out of the dive intact. And even more so.
"IRELAND WINS," the commentator yelled, "KRUM'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH -BUT IRELAND WINS- my goodness, I don't think anyone's expected that. Harry then smiled to himself, "oh yes, I did" he thought to himself. The strength of the Irish Chasers had been an unstoppable force throughout the tournament, and Lynch's skills were in no way a match to Krum's'. Harry thought about the game as he got up to leave the stadium.
"He mate, aren't you staying for the Ceremony." Michael Devoir, one of his teammates asked. "Nah," said
Harry, turning to leave, "This way I'll beat the flow out of the stadium and then I'll be home at somewhat a normal hour." "Kay mate, see you again next year." Yeah, Harry thought nostalgically, it'd take at least a whole year before he'd see any of his teammates again. Harry walked down the stadium staircases to the apparation site, still hearing bits and pieces of the ceremony that was currently in progress. When he arrived at the apparation site he stole one last glance of the magnificent stadium and dissappareted with a small ' plop.'
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"Well, what'd ya think mate, about the match?" Ron asked as they were headed back towards their tents. "Great," Nathan said, a giant smile showing the truth of that statement. "I thought so too," Ron said, "the way Krum got that snitch. Man, he's good."
"Not only in the way he caught the snitch," Ron's brother Fred chimed in, "those feints, man, godlike."
"Honestly Fred," Hermione Nathan and Ron's other best friend said," he's just some guy who happens to be very good at flying, there's nothing even remotely godlike in that." That comment earned her an intense look of displeasure from the whole group, Ginny, Ron's little sister, included.
"Okay, okay," Hermione said, "if it means that much to you I'll just keep my mouth shut." "There's no need to do that Hermione," James Potter said," just try not to wreck their religion all at once okay?" Nathan and the rest of the group now looked at James Potter like he was a mad man. Which caused Arthur Weasley to fall into a fit of laughter.
The rest of the walk towards their tents was filled with light-loaded bickering and jokes which caused them all to be in a very cheerful mood when they finally arrived at their tents. It was only then that they realized something was seriously wrong. A few fields down they could here people screaming and the screaming noises seemed to be coming toward them. Then they saw people running away from something. And apparently it wouldn't take long before then knew what, for the screams became more intense every passing moment.
And then they saw what was scaring the people of in such a degree. Men appeared in black robes with white skull-like masks, and over their heads muggles were floating, held up there by magic. After a few seconds Nathan's father was the first to speak. "C'mon kids, this way, we need to head back towards the Portkey site." "James I hardly think we'll be..." but before Arthur Weasley could finish his sentence James bellowed "I mean NOW." And then people seemed to get back to their senses again. "Come on, hurry." Now real action seemed to take place, Nathan, Hermione and the Weasleys started following James Potter towards the Portkey site.
Running amidst a herd of screaming adult wizards was hardly comfortable. And Nathan had never been more terrified in his entire life. Everywhere he looked people were running or screaming their heads off or both. But Nathan focused his concentration forwards, determined not to lose his father out of his line of sight.
When they had finally arrived at the portkey site, Nathan saw his father take of his large green Ireland hat. Then his father put it on the ground, grabbed his wand, aimed it at the hat and said Portus. "James you know that's illegal, right?" Arthur Weasley. "I don't care now Arthur; I just want the children out safe." James reacted, "C'mon everyone, get around." And while Nathan was positioning himself so everyone could touch the hat he could hear more people following his father's example and set up more unauthorized portkeys. "'Kay, ready everyone, 3... 2... 1... Now." Nathan grabbed the hat as his father gave the signal and felt a jerk behind his navel and he knew they were of.
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A/N:
I know there are some questions lef unanswered, (especially about people's personal History). Don't worry, those question'll be answered in the upcoming chaps.
PS. The Title is a WIP, I don't really like it. If you know something better, please tell me. Otherwise it'll probably stay as it is.
review?