A/N: So this is my first entry into a competition. I had fun writing it, and I hope you have fun reading it!
Written for Philosopher's Stone Competition.
Assignment: The Boy Who Lived: Write about Harry Potter and the advantages or disadvantages of his fame.
Harry Potter's Olympic Adventure
"What a weirdo," said the boy to his girlfriend, tilting his head to indicate the man passing by the ice cream parlour.
Nearby a woman pulled her child to stand behind her as she watched the man pass them by. She hurriedly took the boy in another direction.
An elderly man quickly switches one of his playing cards for one on the deck, while his adversaries shake their heads: "Next they'll not be wearing any shirts!"
The man, however, pays no attention to the gossipers as he pulls his Yankees' cap down. His dress, though unremarkable of itself, definitely stands out quite a bit, among the frequenters of Diagon Alley. Wearing a plain black t-shirt, a pair of blue jean shorts and flip-flops, he is showing a good deal more skin than wizard-folk do, even while playing sports.
Yes, he is a sight indeed, he knows, even more so with those dark fashionable sunglasses hiding his eyes.
Why, then, is Harry Potter being so conspicuously inconspicuous, as he makes his way through the winding alley?
The reason is the piece of plastic hanging around his neck. Suspended by a purple band, is the London Olympics 2012 BMX Finals ticket. The only ticket he had managed to snag for himself. Walking swiftly through The Leaky Cauldron, he lets loose a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him, and seamlessly blends into the crowd of Charing Cross Road. He has made it out of there without being mobbed, for once.
Making his way to the Olympic Park, Harry rejoices in the simple sensation of being anonymous. No whispers following him, no eyes watching his every move, nobody coming up to him to ask his opinion on the days' happenings, not even a piece of parchment and a loaded quill being shoved in his hands! Oh yes, the joy of anonymity. I could even pick my nose, he thinks, right here on the tube, and no one would notice. But thinks better of it, as he spots a pretty girl a few seats away. Their eyes cross, and he blushes, feeling as though she knows what he was just thinking.
As he presses the button on the door, he smiles at her reflection in the glass. She smiles back as he exits, and his spirits are lifted just a bit higher.
It is a sunny day, so Harry takes the time he has before the event starts to walk around the Olympic Park. There is that Dutch swimmer with-that-last-name-with-the-J's-and-O's, being mobbed for autographs. And there is that long distance runner, not quite fast enough to get away from those Swedish fans. And there are some girls with ridiculously large sideburns on their cheeks! And there's a large group of people with expertly drawn lightning bolts on their faces... and for once it's nothing to do with Harry! Feeling silly, he strikes the pose; and the group of Usain Bolt fans copies him as one.
Laughing, Harry makes his way to a kiosk to get himself a drink and crisps. And there she is: a young girl, no older than fifteen, slightly shorter than average and her long blonde hair in a single plait down her back. Harry's worst nightmare. Rose Zeller, President of the Official Harry Potter Fan Club. There is no mistaking it; she's even wearing that ghastly OHaPoFaC t-shirt that had replaced the Dementors in his nightmares.
He needs to get away.
Trying for the casual route, Harry tries to blend in to the crowd around the kiosk. The nonexistent crowd around the kiosk. What had happened to the crowd around the kiosk? It had taken Harry almost fifteen minutes to get to the front of the queue! And now there is no crowd around the kiosk? Thank Merlin for small favours; President Zeller seems to be deep in conversation with her parents. But there is no time to waste. Any second now her Fan Club Senses will activate and Peace will be forfeit.
In a desperate attempt Harry sprints down the boardwalk, straight for the Jamaica fans. He's almost there, just a few steps more! When one of his flip-flops flips and trips him up. Skidding to a timely stop before hitting the biggest of the lot, he hears the dreaded shriek.
"Aaaah! It's Harry! Harry Potter! Take a picture with me, please?" Zeller yells, while the Lightnings fall silent.
"Potter?" one of them mutters, "Who is he? Must be one of them teen heartthrobs."
Desperately looking for a way out of this situation, Harry looks around. Spotting a familiar face in the crowd, he point at him: "Look, it's a famous football player!" And sprints off toward the BMX track.
Being quite early to the venue, Harry is one of the few people seated. As the stadium starts to fill up, Harry is suddenly jostled by the person sitting down next to him and spills his soda.
"You had that coming," says Mr. Posh. "You almost made me late!"
As Harry mumbles an apology and half-hearted explanation, the competitors are announced.
And as the people behind him settle down, Harry hears it: "Too bad we missed Harry Potter, eh Mum? Laura would have been so jealous!"