Prologue: In the wake of the war Harry has to move on with his life. How will he cope with the pressures of returning to Hogwarts and life after Voldemort. H/Hr. Harry's recovery from his past.
Disclaimer: This story is set after the end of JK Rowlings books. She owns all of the rights to the characters in this story and the world they live in. I am just using them for my enjoyment.
"Kill the spare!" Cedric's face lit up green as his body was thrown across the graveyard. He was spread eagled on the ground, dead.
"No Cedric." Harry yelled out as his eyes flew open. He was covered in a cold sweat. His sheets were thrown off the side of the bed, he was cold, he felt out of breath. It took a minute for it to set in where he was. He wasn't in the graveyard, he was in his bed on the eve of the Quidditch World Cup semi final. He had a big game coming up the next day. His first start for England this tournament.
"C'mon Harry." He said to himself. "You have a big game tomorrow. Bulgaria won't be easy."
He tried to close his eyes again. Trying to shut the dreams out of his head. All he wanted was a blank sleep, a dreamless sleep. When he was with Hermione it was no problem, he rarely got these memories. But he knew he would get them again, as soon as he closed his eyes again.
It was no use, he needed Hermione here. He sat on the side of his bed. Hermione. He could still smell the scent of her hair, see the way it blew in the breeze. He wasn't coping without her. She kept the pieces of his soul together. Held his body when his mind was broken. When he had these dreams with Hermione she was there for him, held him and crooned him to sleep. Sure it took a toll on her and Harry felt bad for that but without her he would not have gotten through some of the nights. She didn't know the extent of it though, it only got really bad when she wasn't around. Its like being with her he was under a spell of his own. A spell that shut out the horrors of his past, the war, the victims, the loved ones he had lost. He was bitter but he was in a way, defeated. He didn't know what to do any more. Sure he had gotten picked in this Quidditch side but that was only due to an extraordinary number of injuries to the other seekers in England. He felt like he was in luck to be at this tournament.
But tomorrow he had the biggest game of his life. Fly on Seeker against Victor Krum. The one and only Krum. He was the best in the business and he knew it. Harry was not confident. But then again he wasn't confident in anything any more. Krum did say that Harry was the best flier he had ever seen. The Harry of 12 months ago probably would have had the confidence to take him on. He did owe his country to try his best for them. He was being paid a considerable amount of gold to play in this World Cup after all. The papers had gone crazy when he was selected. He was the first player outside a Professional League to be selected to play for England since 1038. Nearly a thousand years.
Yes he needed some sleep.
He thought back to a couple of months prior, the selections for the England squad. It was right after he and Hermione had found Hermione's parents in Australia. He had remembered what Oliver said about the trials and how he should have a go. Hermione pushed him and pushed him until he gave in and agreed to have a go. He never imagined he would get selected, he just did it to make her happy. But here he was now, in South Africa, before the biggest game of his life. Having Wood in the squad definitely helped his nerves and time here. They had been hanging out just about all tournament. Unfortunately the captain had a no partners policy during the World cup. The policy Harry blamed for his lack of sleep, he hadn't seen Hermione in 2 weeks.
Still he had had a great time during this World Cup so far. He had come on as a reserve against Brazil and Japan, having two solid games in his game time. He had enjoyed the atmosphere of the event and tomorrow in front of 95,000 people he feared he would be overwhelmed. He had kept his nerves in check so far but since he was starting the pressure was starting to get to him. He wondered how a superstar like Krum dealt with the pressures of being a national hero. It must be enormous.
He needed some sleep soon, he felt himself getting agitated. He just wanted to sleep. If he could just do that everything would be alright.
Harry was glad by the time morning came, he always was when he wasn't with Hermione. He didn't know what he was going to do over the next year. He and Hermione had been living together over summer in Sirius's house but as he and Hermione had decided to complete their education, staying together would not be an option. He wasn't sure how keen he would be for that in all honesty, he would go insane. Harry was hopeful however that the dreadful nightmares would pass.
He went down to breakfast with the team.
"Goodmorning Harry. How did you sleep?" Wood asked him.
"Yea alright I guess. How about you?" Harry replied.
"Really, you look dreadful, like you haven't slept at all." Wood said.
"I will be fine." Harry said, a little annoyed.
"Ah he will be right, it's just pre match nerves. Don't worry about it bud." Avery Hawskberry, one of the Chasers, said from across the table.
"Yea." Harry replied. "Krum will be a tough opponent."
"You are a good flier though Harry. And faster than him." Wood pointed out.
Harry tried his best to eat a good breakfast, there was a plethora of food spread out in front of him. In the end he went for some eggs on toast and pumpkin juice. It didn't go down to well. He hadn't had much sleep and he was feeling ill from the same lack of sleep. All he wanted to do was go back to bed, but he couldn't he had a game this afternoon. 95,000 people, he reminded himself. No small number, he had to play well.
He hurried up the stairs into his room and extracted his Firebolt from his wardrobe. As has been his ritual for the the rest of the tournament he wanted to go out for a fly on the morning of the game. He raced downstairs and outside with his broom almost knocking over a cleaner on the way. He burst out into the fresh air and with the smell of the freshly mown grass he mounted his broom. With a hard kick he took off into the air. Instantly he felt better. He thought that this feeling could cure any ailment. The leisure to fly however he wanted with the wind in his hair and the country side in a blur below. He raced in and out of trees, up the river and then joined a pack of birds racing along. They didn't seem to mind as he flew beside them, watching their graceful forms in the wind. He saw elephants and giraffes below, against the beautiful landscape that was South Africa. Here he could just forget about his worries, forget about Voldemort or that he even had a game on this afternoon.
What felt like a short trip quickly turned into an hour long flight before he checked his watch and knew he would have to get back. It was an afternoon game today, not the night time games he was used to. He sadly had to leave the animals he had encountered and flew back at 150mph to the hotel. He stopped a couple of miles out from the hotel and pulled out, of all things, a mobile phone. He and Hermione had been using it to call each other during their isolation. He sent her a text. "Can I call you?" And sat back hoping for a reply. It came within a minute of his message. "Sure :)" It read. He called the number, it was picked up on the first ring.
"How are you my beautiful?" He said into the microphone.
"Wonderful now I've heard your voice. How are you? How did you sleep?" He heard out of the earpiece.
He lied back on the base of the tree. "Yea I am alright, just a little nervous, that's all. I slept alright." The last part which was a lie.
"You will be fine honey, you are a better flier than Krum, he said so himself. And I will be there in the crowd, nothing will hurt you." Hermione said soothingly.
Even though Harry knew that in Quidditch there was nothing Hermione could do to stop harm from happening to him he still took comfort from those words. "I miss you so much. I want this thing to be over so I can see you."
"I know Harry, it will be over soon enough. I will see you soon." Hermione replied through the phone.
"I know. I hate these short talks, I have to go. Coach is gunna kill me." Harry said sourly. He didn't want to leave her.
"Okay then hun, I love you." Hermione said, she understood.
"I love you too. See you soon bub." And Harry hung up the phone.
He missed Hermione so much and he would much rather spend his time talking on the phone to his girlfriend than preparing for this Quidditch game. However he drug himself off the ground and flew the rest of the way back to the hotel. He locked his broom away before meeting the team for lunch and the trip to the stadium. At lunch their were all fed a special pre match meal, chosen by themselves but prepared to give them an edge when it comes to the game. Harry knew that he had to eat and he forced himself to do so. Coach Fulton was watching him like a hawk. After the meal they boarded a bus on the way to the stadium, to Harry it looked like a red and white Knight Bus. He took his seat next to Blythe Parkin, who was ruled out of this game due to a training accident two days before in which he destroyed the ligaments in his shoulder.
"How is your shoulder?" Harry asked a bandaged up Parkin as he sat down.
"Its not bad considering." He replied. "Hey goodluck out there today, you will be fine. I have played on Krum before. Use his strengths against him."
"I will try my best." Harry replied.
"Hey you are a good player Harry, believe in yourself." Parkin told him.
"Thankyou, it means a lot."
They chatted lightly for the rest of the trip to the stadium, until the stadium came into view. Then Harry's nerves kicked in. The stadium was massive, stretching high into the skies and complete 360 degree stands. Harry was reminded of the stories of the Colosseum in Rome that he heard about when he was a child. The "Bullring" they called it here in South Africa. And Harry could see why, the stands were almost vertical and he could only imagine standing in the middle of the pitch with the stands towering above.
In the dressing rooms Harry was quietly going about his business. He got dressed in his red and white robes and buffed up his Firebolt to settle his nerves. He could hear the crowd outside the dressing rooms, going ballistic. He could imagine the Veela seducing the crowd with their music and dancing. He remembered back to 4 years ago when he was in the crowd of the World Cup final. At that time he had been going for Ireland. He had never imagined at the time he would play in a World Cup game himself, let alone a Semi Final. The delays to the game weren't helping. The game would almost certainly go into night now. He wanted to be sick with nerves. But he knew what he had to do, he had to man up and do this.
"No more nerves." He said to himself.
It was nearing time to fly out onto the pitch as the England side drew themselves into a huddle.
"England on three. One. Two. Three."
"England!" The team screamed. They manned the tunnel alongside their Bulgarian opponents as they waited.
A voice boomed out from above. "Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to the Four hundred and thirty third Quidditch World Cup."
...
A/N
This story came to me as I was writing "A New Adventure" and I wanted to start it now so even though it is following on from my last story i have started it before finishing the last. I really appreciate feedback as it helps me improve my writing so if you have any feedback, positive or constructive criticism (which lets face it is positive) I encourage you to use the review button :)
Thankyou for reading, until next time.