Harry Potter and the Secret Elite
Hello all! It has been a long time. Only decided to write this earlier this year, but did not really know where to go after the last one! I hope it turns out alright!
A few notes: I know I shouldn't do this but a necessary edit is that Ginny postponed her seventh year so is due back at Hogwarts at the beginning of this year. I know I said something to the contrary at the end of "The Next Realm" but oh well. Sorry. Something else which is sort of an edit, more a correction of something which could have been misinterpreted, is that Harry's first Quidditch match at the end of the previous book was in the reserves. Apologies if there are any other continuity errors; I've tried to avoid them!
NB: As always, reviews would be greatly appreciated.
Chapter One - Seeker Sought
The night was a brilliant azure blue, pinpricks of light dotting the glorious twilight of the sky that overlooked an enormous quidditch stadium. The golden hue and rapturous noise emanating from it attracted the local pigeons, who settled down to roost on the upper-most roof. In the darkness of Twybrook Stadium, Harry Potter was extremely nervous. It was a familiar sensation, given his circumstances: crowd roaring; broomstick in hand; a sliver of blinding light up ahead. But never before in navy-blue robes, in a professional quidditch match. For Harry was waiting to make his much anticipated professional quidditch debut, after almost a year in reserves, for the Kingston Kites. It had taken him almost a year due to his needing to allocate time for his Auror duties, but finally here he was, standing in a small tunnel illuminated by the bright glow at the far end. Around him were his fellow team-mates and alongside him was the seeker for the Guildford Griffins, the opposition for this final match of the season. As the Kites were already confirmed as fourth in the league, Harry was being given his first chance.
The year had been a hectic one, but undoubtedly the best that Harry had ever lived through. Not only had Harry been getting paid handsomely to play a sport he loved, but two other important events had made him happier than he had ever been. First had been the downfall of Lord Voldemort. Harry's duel with Voldemort had spanned not only the years but the realms also, with Harry and Voldemort clashing finally in the Salazar Temple in the land of the dead over a year ago. Harry had eventually beaten Voldemort, restored life to Hermione, and eventually returned to the world of the living, and to Ginny.
Ginny. Harry's thoughts were dominated by her; she was the very reason for his life. The summer had meant hours of just being together and, eventually, the wedding itself. That day was unquestionably the happiest of his life so far, and it was a big event in the wizarding world in general.
Despite Harry's best efforts there was no way their wedding would be anything but public. The original guest list was limited to one hundred people, (a number that still seemed too big to Harry), but witches, wizards and various magical creatures with even the most tenuous, (and sometimes entirely fabricated), link to the bride and groom just kept showing up. The ceremony had been perfect throughout though, and Harry would never forget the sight of Ginny moving gracefully down the aisle. Dobby had brought forward the rings, and in his giddy happiness he looked similar to a slightly tipsy person, staggering up the aisle, even bumping into one of the chairs on the way up. Harry's own ring was a shining silver and had a glowing phoenix on the side, which soared gracefully up and down around his finger, melting in and out of focus as it shrunk into the distance.
The wedding had taken place at Hogwarts with Dumbledore presiding over the ceremony. The only small hiccup had been Ron's tipsy and slightly bungled best man's speech, but Harry had rescued him before it became too embarrassing. All his Hogwarts teachers, even, to Harry's slight annoyance, Professor Snape, showed up, along with Minerva McGonagall, who had stepped down as Transfiguration teacher. Currently Professor Grubbly-Plank had assumed the role, although Harry knew Dumbledore had spoken to Hermione and that she was preparing for the role; a matter they had talked of at the wedding.
Arthur Weasley, Ron and Ginny's father and Minister for Magic, professed that he could not think of a better son-in-law while his wife Molly just sobbed and nodded happily. Harry himself was elated by the thought that the Weasley's were now his family, and that Ron, Fred and George were his brothers.
All his other time had been spent either finishing his biography with Hermione, (an idea that had seemed slightly embarrassing at first but that had proved to be very enjoyable in the end), or at Twybrook Stadium honing his Quidditch skills. Harry had received numerous work offers, some of which – such as teaching at Hogwarts and becoming a full time Auror – had been realistic, whilst others – marketing for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes – had been taken more lightly, but Harry had known since his very first visit to Twybrook that he belonged there. It was the site of the first Quidditch match he had ever seen, and Harry knew that in other circumstances his father, James Potter, would have played for the Kingston Kites.
And so, Harry had signed for them and spent the summer practising with the team. There he had learnt about advanced team tactics, tricks for spotting the snitch more easily in a floodlit stadium, and about the opponents he would face over an average year. He learnt about European competition as well as how he would best make it into the international team. Moran, an Irish chaser who played for the Kites, constantly jested that if Harry could stay on his broom for more than a minute he was worthy of the English Quidditch team.
Suddenly, Harry was jolted out of his reminiscence by the sound of the stadium announcer speaking over the tanoy.
"Welcome Ladies, Gentlemen, and creatures of all types and ages," he said in that typical "are you ready?" tone of voice. "Welcome to Twybrook Stadium for the final game of the season, Kingston versus Guildford!" The crowd roared and Harry's stomach did another somersault.
"Firstly let's welcome the visitors from just down the road, it's the Guildford Griffins!"
There was an explosion of boos from the crowd, save for a small pocket of cheers from the away fans. The announcer reeled off the player's names as they zipped past Harry & into the stadium.
"And it's Smith, Fletcher, Owens, Osagio, Reuben, Brockhurst aaaaaaaaaand McFurl!" More boos followed as ahead of Harry, the last player emerged into the light. The Kites players mounted their brooms and, trembling slightly, Harry did likewise.
"And now," continued the announcer once the boos had subsided, "For the very last time this season, please put your hands together for your Kingston Kites!" The players in front of Harry whipped out into the stadium as their names were called, but before Harry's name was announced there was a short pause.
"And tonight, turning out for the very first time for the Kites, please give an extra special welcome for…. POTTER!" Harry took a deep breath and leaned forward, hurtling forwards into the bright lights of the stadium as, simultaneously, fireworks and confetti exploded out of cannons either side of the tunnel he flew out of.
The roar of appreciation was immediate and immense. Harry emerged into the stadium mildly disorientated by the many camera flashes around the ground. He took a few moments to adjust to the lights, but soon the familiarity of his broom calmed his nerves.
"I've out flown Dragons and been praised by Viktor Krum," he told himself sternly. "I can do this." He positioned himself above his team mates and directly opposite the visiting seeker, McFurl. He gave Harry a cheery wave as the snitch was released, visible temporarily before disappearing into the stadium somewhere. A few moments later, the referee blew the whistle and the game began.
Harry had been told that a figure of eight whilst varying his height a little was the best tactic at the beginning for finding the snitch, and so he set off. McFurl did likewise, and beneath them the action unfolded. The two home beaters, Stevens and Broffski, were playing out of their skins, breaking up virtually every single attack that came towards the Kingston hoops. Spurred on by this the chasers were also on top form, and soon Kinston had built up a commanding lead.
Harry however, barely even registered this. More than any other Quidditch game that he had played before, he was focussed: green eyes darting from side to side, ever watchful for that glint of gold. He also kept an eye on his opposite number who also seemed to be having difficulty. And it was during one of these glances at McFurl that Harry saw it, hovering barely two metres behind McFurl.
Moving as casually as possible, but with his eyes fixed on the Snitch, Harry edged across towards McFurl. Soon some of the crowd realised what was going on, and their cheering alerted McFurl, who looked up as Harry dived. Throwing himself flat on his broom he hurled himself at the snitch and the seeker, both of which moved sharply out of the way. Harry, eye on the snitch, tore after it.
The entire crowd had now caught on to what was going on, and they urged their new seeker on proudly. Nimbly dodging a bludger Harry swung around the hoops after the snitch, fully aware of his opposite number closing in from the side. Harry stretched out his arm and, within moments, he felt his fist closing around the cold golden snitch.
Soaring above the pitch Harry held the snitch aloft in triumph but the roar of the crowd did not follow. Instead there were screams. Harry whirled around, his broom level with topmost stand. As he looked down, he nearly fell off his broom.
Glittering below, a shining mockery of the stadium lights, a harsh green and black skull had emerged. A serpent's tongue flickered malevolently, and Harry felt a chill run down his spine. The Dark Mark! His eyes darted to the V.I.P box where the Weasleys were, but they were all there: unhurt, but very shocked. And then, seemingly from within the very mouth of the Mark itself, a deep, thundering, terrible voice rent through the anxious whispers of the night.
"ACCIO ANDROMIDA!" Harry immediately felt as though he was being dragged downwards by the ring on his hand, towards the taunting, gaping mouth of the skull. Harry yanked on his broom, twisting and turning away from the skull. All eyes were on his struggle, pulling inexorably towards the Mark. Mr Weasley and the Aurors, including Ron, were already all on there feet, their wands drawn, but completely unsure as to what action to take against this invisible foe.
Two of Harry's team mates, Broffski and Moran, hurried forward to help him fight against the spell, but they moved too late. Their hands grabbed the now riderless Firebolt as Harry fell downwards into the awaiting mouth of the Dark Mark. Harry's vision went black, and in Twybrook Stadium the Mark vanished leaving behind it nothing but air and stunned, appalled silence.