A/N: This story was largely inspired by the many wonderful Quidditch-related works of TheEndless7. Though I believe much of Harry's personality lends itself to a career as an Auror, I've always loved takes of him as a professional Seeker. I don't hesitate to picture him as a star, and few stories in professional sports are as intriguing as those of its stars. I've often wondered what it's like to become a sports star, because, after all, there are no clearly demarcated lines between "Good", "Great", and "Legendary". Harry in Quidditch creates a very unique situation, as in many respects, he's already a national hero, even as he tries to make a name for himself on the pitch. Hopefully I paint a convincing, entertaining picture of what that may look like.

Catch On Quick

Harry knew he had been running too hard when he found himself reminiscing wistfully about the search for the horcruxes, thinking how nice it had been to laze about for hours on end. He shook himself forcibly, letting drops of sweat fly off his body to pepper the spongy surface of the track.

It had been one of his favorite areas when he'd first arrived at the team facility after being drafted. Hemmed in by towering trees, the track was at the very edge of the compound. Harry had yearned early on for solitude, and this place seemed to suit his needs. When they weren't using the spell-o-turf for morning runs and team workouts, it was otherwise empty. Professional Quidditch players, and those that worked with them, did not seem to be overly fond of off-broom exercise.

Shortly into day one of optional workouts, Harry was beginning to understand why. Four miles into their warm up, and the Boy Who Lived was on the verge of losing his breakfast.

"Tired already, eh?" grinned Ashleigh Bourne, newly signed Seeker from Australia. This was whom Harry would compete with for a spot on the First Team. He was annoyingly dry, a rather slick Harry noted. "Newbie."

Though Ashleigh, like Harry, was freshly acquired, he'd played for a number of years in an Australian League. Harry himself was fresh off his last year in Hogwarts, and an admittedly stellar seventh year campaign.

"At least you're working out now, rather than the start of real training camp," consoled Diana Akermann. The other assembled players echoed her sentiments. She was a Beater, Harry remembered, a returning player. In his limited interactions with her, she'd been helpful.

"Ah, I remember my first training camp," reminisced Katie Bell fondly. "I don't think I've ever been so sick." Several players whose names Harry had yet to learn snickered at her remarks. Katie was one of two returning Chasers, and a familiar face he was grateful for.

"Really?" Harry managed huffily, straining to remain upright through the burning stitch in his side. He was swift on his feet, but struggled with the unfamiliar routine of endurance running.

"Really," confirmed Katie. "It was the worst. Of course, I wasn't in any kind of shape. Hadn't practiced in a month, really…"

Diana scoffed. "Serves you right, then. Reminds me of Danny's first season." She jerked her chin at a short, burly man: her fellow Beater Danny McDonnell. He frowned petulantly. "Don't remind me."

"I'm sure you'll have a better time than I did, Harry," assured Katie, though her tone was less certain than her words.

"He'll be alright," Ashleigh confirmed confidently. "He's young and springy; he'll bounce back fast."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, tell that to my body."

"I think you look pretty bendy, myself," Katie said honestly. "To be fair, though, I did see you touch your knuckles to your elbow when Lockhart vanished your bones."

Nearly everyone laughed; Ash especially was intrigued. He demanded a full recounting at a later date, a not unpopular idea.

"Harry's interesting life aside," Diana said mildly, redirecting the conversation away from the blushing Seeker. "All this talk of bending reminds me that we should be stretching. Katie, care to lead?"

"Sure," piped up the Chaser quickly, and less than a minute later the players were all circled around her, miming her actions in the middle. Harry hunched his back as low as it would go, grimacing at the tight unpleasantness.

It would be worth it in the end, he reminded himself. Many nights in the Hospital Wing and circumstances besides had given Harry a distinct dislike for waking up injured. Preparation, specifically off-season preparation, was his most effective means of avoiding that kind of infirmity this upcoming season.

Harry winced as Katie bent them into a new stretch. Of course, he amended internally, that didn't mean he had to like it,.

Forty-five minutes later, still gasping for breath from their latest circuit, Harry observed the others who had come, as he had, to the optional summer workouts.

First off, there were the Chasers. Katie was one of two returning starters, the other being indisposed for an unknown reason. That left one spot open out of three, and to be perfectly honest, Harry didn't get the impression they had great options there. His assessment of the remaining Chaser talent classified them as reservists at best. Hopefully one of them would prove him wrong.

Next, there were the Beaters. It's important to understand that, although both Diana Akermann and Daniel McDonnell were firmly entrenched in the starting lineup, their existing contracts were set to expire at season's end. Daniel was hoping to stay, but Diana had been quite vocal about testing the free agency waters. This made the reserve spot for Beaters truly valuable; it was basically a shot at a starting gig next season. As such, there were several worthy players in line for the opening, and all seemed quite competent. This part of the team did not worry him.

Then, there was the Keeper. Harry had yet to meet him, but he'd heard more than enough. Robbin Stern, after all, was something of a local hero. He'd played at Hogwarts back before Charley's days and been here for eighteen seasons. Under his unyielding leadership and relentless goalkeeping, the Cannons enjoyed one of their two total winning seasons. Over the years, he'd lost at least half a broomstick in speed, but more than made up for it with his awareness. His play recognition was off the charts, and his backup seemed competent enough in limited action. According to Ron, Chudley's Keeper situation was as solid as any team in the league. Harry was inclined to agree.

Finally, there was Harry's own position, the ever-important Seeker. After last year's historically bad showing from Turley Tinsley, the First Team Seeker spot was entirely up for grabs. After an overhaul of the personnel department, Harry and Ash had been brought in to compete for the vacant position. Loser would be relegated to the Reserves and scout team: a less exciting, lesser-compensated position. It was the difference between a legitimate shot, and indeterminate Quidditch purgatory.

There was a lot at stake; Harry tried not to think about it.

Shaken out of his reverie by a loud, "Breaks over, kiddos!" Harry shared a rueful grimace with someone nearby, one of the Chasers trying out for a Reserve spot. She was about his age, short and slim and, he noted belatedly, rather easy on the eyes as well.

"Already?" he muttered disbelievingly. "I'm fixed to pass out."

She grinned at him. He liked her smile. "Don't think I'll carry you the rest of the way."

Prior to the first lap, he managed a "My name's Harry". He heard her say something to the effect of, "Mine's Ari." But then, they'd just started running, and he couldn't be sure.

By the time they were on the second lap, Harry had made the executive decision to give up talking in order to focus on keeping a reasonably steady line. The Chaser, whose name Harry was relatively sure was Ari, was in far better shape than he. Her pace was steady through all eight laps, and she laughed out loud at Harry's wondering expression when they finally finished.

"It really wasn't that bad," she said to him, taking short, hard breaths into her nose and expelling them through her mouth. "The first few weeks of conditioning are always the worst. Once you establish a baseline," she shrugged," it's peaches and cream."

From his spot on the ground, Harry managed a terse groan.

Grinning cheekily, Ari patted him on the knee. "That's the spirit."

"Aren't you looking lovely?" Ash called over, grinning amusedly at the prone former Gryffindor.

Harry groaned again, waving for him to go way.

"Come on by? Why, don't mind if I do mate." Sauntering down, the Australian Seeker sat on his haunches next to Harry. After a moment, he rapped him sharply on the legs: "Straighten those out, buddy, get a good stretch in. Trust me, you'll thank me in the morning."

"And drink plenty of water," offered Ari helpfully. "Flush out the excess lactic acid from your system."

"Yep, and what she said, too," confirmed Ash brightly as he straightened.

"Lots of good food helps, too. Nutritious dinners, light breakfast and lunch, that whole deal. None of that Cauldron Cake junk."

Ash nodded once more. "Too bad, that; they're rather tasty." His tone was regretful.

"I don't care for them," sniffed Ari, and Harry managed enough oxygen to offer: "Are you mad? They're wonderful!"

"That they are," grinned Ash. Then he caught a whiff off his practice jersey, and his face twisted up in disgust. "But that is not. Whew! Well, I smell absolutely awful. If you'll excuse me, I think I have a rather pressing engagement with the shower. Lovely chat, though. Later." With that farewell, he turned to walk away, already stripping off his shirt.

"Oy, Ashleigh! Same time, same place, tomorrow!" called Diana. The Australian threw a thumbs up without looking back, confirming he'd heard.

"That goes for the rest of you, as well," she told the assembled athletes, repeating the announcement. Everyone gave an acquiescent nod. By now Harry was able to sit up, and finally, with a hand from his new Chaser friend, stand. As they left, Katie broke off a conversation with the Beaters to give him a pleasant goodbye. Harry returned it, earning nods from Diana and Daniel as well. They began the trek back to the locker room together, chatting amicably.

"America? Really?" Harry had asked her in amazement upon learning where she was from.

"Absolutely," Ari had nodded proudly. "Muggle school up through elementary, then private school at an all-magic institution."

"Where in the States?" asked Harry curiously. He'd met precious few people from that part of the globe.

"The West Coast," she chewed her lip for a moment, "in California. Outside of San Francisco."

"I didn't know they played Quidditch in the States," Harry mused, surprised.

"Well, they do," replied Ari rather testily. "And they're pretty good, too."

"How'd they do in the last World Cup?"

She colored. "We had a crap pool and a load of players out with injury, and even then we made it to the final sixteen. The team's core talent is young and strong," the Californian intoned stubbornly. They felt like words she'd said numerous times before.

"I'm sure they did," chuckled Harry. Ari scowled, so he held up his hands, placating. "It's not like England did any better. All that talent, and we couldn't make it out of the Group Stage…"

Her face softened. "It's not their fault, really. The Bulgarians won the whole shebang, and Colombia's always a tough out."

"There's that," agreed Harry conversationally, nodding his head, "and there's the fact that England's Seeker is a spectacular heap of rubbish."

Ari laughed. "He's not too bad."

"Well, he was in Buda Pest in 2000," maintained the former Gryffindor staunchly.

"I suppose you would know," replied Ari lightly.

"I would and I do," Harry confirmed. There came a long beat of companionable silence. Both took in the muted browns and neon orange highlights that colored the buildings. For such a crap club, mused Harry, their facilities weren't all that bad.

"You wanna know something?" Ari began suddenly, just a hint of self-consciousness coloring her voice.

"Sure," Harry said, curious.

"I wanna play Chaser for America," she admitted softly. "You know that maxim? 'For Club and Country'?"

He nodded. It was all over the tube and splashed in advertisements in Quidditch Weekly and Which Broomstick Monthly.

"I love that. I want to live it. And," she lifted her chin confidently, "I think, with enough hard work, I can do it."

Harry gave her an appraising look. Saw her compact shoulders, natural balance, self-assured walk. It seemed like an odd thing for her to have told him, to be perfectly honest, but he heard the honest passion in her voice. "Well, I haven't seen you play, but I wouldn't be surprised if you did."

They continued in silence for a few moments as Harry collected his thoughts. "You know," he said after a while, "I think I'd like to play for England too. I mean, er, if I could, I definitely would."

He looked a little uncomfortable at making such bold pronouncements. Arianna just looked at him curiously, took in his lithe frame, restless hands, and nimble fingers. In a near echo of his own words, she slyly replied: "Well, I haven't seen you play yet either, but I'm sure you could, too."

That earned her a modest smile. They parted ways at the locker room entrance, where Harry showered and changed before Apparating to a meeting with his agent. He waved farewell to the locker room attendant as he left, grateful press days didn't start for some time.

All in all, it'd been a pretty swell first day on the job. At the very least, he'd made a friend. His last thought, before he felt his body compressed and contorted through an invisible tube, was that Hermione would be pleased: she was a big believer in team unity.

"You met Diana Akermann and Daniel McDonnell?!" were the first words out of Harry's best friend and agent's mouth. They sat in a cramped, one-room office Ron had managed to secure several months earlier. "Any idea which way Akermann's leaning? Word is she's on her way out next season."

Harry gave the redhead a scathing look. "I did, they're perfectly pleasant, and she didn't say so I've no idea. I'm fine by the way, thanks for all your concern-"

"Okay, sorry!" Ron held up his hands palms out and leaned back in his chair. "But you can't blame me, not entirely! You know how I am about the Cannons. Probably pass out at your first game when I see you on the field, to be perfectly honest…" He seemed grimly resigned to the prospect.

"Ron…"

"Oh, alright, just hold on a tick!" Ron reached into his desk, pulling out a bulging binder. He Vanished the clutter in front of him, setting down the book with a large thump and a good deal of dust. "Now, you said the other Seeker's name was Ashleigh?"

"Ashleigh Bourne," offered Harry helpfully. "From Australia. Said he played in a few leagues there."

"Yeah, yeah he did," Ron confirmed distractedly, now scanning through his notes to see what he had on the player. "Let's see… Alright, let me give you a rough bio, then we'll talk about what this means for you."

"Ashleigh Bourne," read the Weasley. "Perth native, two seasons experience in Australian Premier League. Thirty-two games played, twenty started, fifteen catches. Scouts like his larger than average build combined with decent broom-handling and solid straightaway speed."

He waited for Harry to digest the information. The bespectacled boy looked a little concerned.

"So, yeah, that's him," Ron quipped easily, shutting his binder with a snap. "Shouldn't be too much of a problem, eh?"

Harry's eyes were uncertain. "Fifteen out of twenty, that's not too good, right?"

"Well, that's not exactly how those numbers go," explained Ron, quoting from memory now. "Four of those games he started at Chaser. Not bad at that, either, to be perfectly honest. But it means his numbers are fifteen out of sixteen."

"And that's pretty good?"

Ron's red head bobbed enthusiastically. "Oh, it's bloody amazing is what it is. I mean, it's the Australian league, but I always say it's not who you play, it's how you play…"

Seeing the blood start to drain from his friend's face, Ron adopted a more reassuring line of conversation. "Look, who cares, you're Harry bleeding Potter! They don't keep school statistics so much, but I'm sure you'd be off the charts. You've never even missed a Snitch!"

"Once," replied Harry automatically. "In our third year."

"Oh, bugger our third year, it was a madhouse," scoffed Ron. "Ruddy dementors running about the place and everything. That should've been a catch, and you know it! Listen, you'll be fine. More than fine."

Harry sighed, but eventually allowed himself a bit of a grin. "Maybe. Hey, listen, can you look up one other player?"

"Why?" asked Ron, confused. "I thought Bourne was the only other Seeker at camp?"

"No, no, he is," Harry assured him. "I just met someone else I wanted to know more about."

Ron was looking seriously concerned, until Harry told him the name: "Arianna Wan." At that point, his oldest friend's face split into a Cheshire-like grin.

"Oho!" He said, pointing a finger and snickering madly. "Oho!" Ron hurriedly searched through his binder, found the appropriate page, and studied what he found with great intensity. Every now and then, he'd peek back to Harry, giggling as he did so.

Harry watched him with long-suffering patience. He'd decided not to tell Ron about Arianna's odd confession, and if this was the price he had to pay, then so be it.

"Very impressive, Harry," Ron finally managed gleefully, clearly enjoying himself.

"Is it?" Harry asked dryly, receiving a meaningful nod in reply.

"Certainly more of a looker than Cho," Ron continued, bouncing his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry rolled his eyes, but definitely agreed with Ron on that. "Anything on what's she like on the pitch?"

Ron's expression changed. He looked impressed, in spite of himself, and a little embarrassed. "She's actually… pretty good. In fact, I'm surprised she's on the Cannons at all."

Huh. Well that was curious. But, one crisis at a time; raising an eyebrow, Harry queried his friend, "Then why do you look so displeased?"

"Honestly? Because I had no idea," Ron replied frankly. "You know me, Harry, I live and breathe the Cannons! But this girl… when they signed her, I didn't even bother doing a background check. I was just too tired that day."

He shook his head, whistling lowly. "I'm just mad at myself, I suppose. I take pride in being a fan, knowing my team; I feel like I failed, just a bit."

Harry stood up to lay a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Relax, mate. You do your best. If you were any more of a fan, your skin would be Chudley Citrus."

The Weasley boy chuckled. "I guess I do. And 'Mione wouldn't like that, would she?"

"No," said Harry, grinning. "I reckon she wouldn't."

Heaving a sigh, Ron roused himself, grabbing his cloak from its hanging place on the wall. "Right, well, if that's all-?"

Harry nodded. It was.

"Right," repeated Ron, giving his office one last visual sweep. Satisfied, he turned his attention to Harry. "I'm starved. Want to grab a bite? You're paying, of course."

Harry held the door open, gesturing Ron forward. "Of course."

"What's the deal with that Arianna bird, anyway?" Ron asked as the door swung shut behind them. They entered into a dusty hallway they could depart from.

"I don't know," answered Harry honestly, feigning interest in the hall's floral wallpaper. "Just curious, I guess."

It was the truth. International players- especially talented ones with National ambitions- had, for good reason, tended to avoid the Cannons like the plague. Harry was sure Ari had the skills to catch on at another club, yet there she was with the worst team in league history. It was a choice in team most wouldn't make; Ari made the decision willingly. There was more to the story, Harry knew, but he supposed he'd just have to wait.

Ron, picking up on his friend's reluctance, let the subject drop. "Anyway... I'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron, and we walk into Muggle London?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Nodding his head, Ron turned on his heel and disappeared with a crack! Moments later, Harry experienced the now familiar yet ever uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a tube as he turned on his heel and did the same.

A/N: So... how was that? Comments, questions, concerns, suggestions? I take all comers, and am grateful for them.

Chudley Cannons Mid-Week Roster Update

S- Harry Potter/Ashleigh Bourne

C- Katie Bell

C- Seamus McAdams (absent)

C- open

B- Diana Akermann

B- Daniel (Danny) McDonnell

K- Robbin Stern (non-participant)/ Per Hummels

Reserves: Ari Wan (C), Miles Bletchley (B), Per Hummels (K), Harry Potter/Ashleigh Bourne (S)