The room was exactly the same, Harry mused as he passed the Auror Headquarters sign, but I suppose I'll never see it again. His decision was easy to make, and he knew it needed to be made, but that didn't make it a happy one. He did have some friends here he'd likely never see again. He walked through the room, a series of cubicles, ignoring the clippings of Dark wizards and other investigative notices. The talk and laughter of the room buzzed around him but he ignored it with a purpose.
Stopping at the Head Auror office, Harry knocked. After a second, he heard Robards' gruff voice bidding him enter. With mounting trepidation, Harry pulled the door open and closed it behind him, making his way in front of the desk. Robards smiled at him, handing him a paper of discharge.
"Well, Potter, it's an end of an era, eh?"
Harry smiled, "It is, sir, and it's been an honour."
"Do you know what you're going to do?" Gawain sounded genuinely interested, and this put Harry at ease.
"Honestly, sir, what I should have done after the War."
Gawain laughed, "If anyone deserves it, it's you, lad. You're enormously talented, Harry; you don't mind if I call you Harry, do you?"
"Of course not, sir," Harry was pleased.
"You can call me Gawain then, Harry. It's a bit of a mouthful but, for some reason, I suspect it's easier than sir."
"Thank you, Gawain," a lump formed in Harry's throat and he suddenly found it hard to speak.
Gawain nodded knowingly, "Keep in touch."
Harry walked out, ignoring the feeling of finality. It was one he'd only felt a few times in his life, and he always hated it.
He pulled the door open to see Auror Dance on the other side. Dance smiled, "Hey there, Potter. Your probation is up, how does it feel?"
Harry realized that Dance probably had no idea he didn't take the job, "Oh, sir, I decided not to take the job. I'm officially unemployed."
Danced nodded, "We know, Harry. We all saw how miserable you were," he paused to turn Harry around wave his arm around the room. To Harry's shock, he saw everyone standing at attention, even Robards who was now standing outside his office.
"Thank you for your service, Harry Potter," Dance finished, and everyone in the room copied his statement. Harry couldn't speak. Dance shoved Harry out the door with a laugh, "Go get 'em, kid."
A film of smoke covered the room, though that did nothing to deter his vision. It did, however, give him cover, and Harry appreciated that. He didn't want to be seen right now. He raised his mug of firewhisky to his lips, surrendering to the searing burn followed by the numbness it provided.
His eyes scanned the room for threats before he even knew he was doing it. It was training, it was muscle memory, and it served a reminder that for most of his life he was just a warrior. Even now, unemployed, he still had his habits. He had picked a spot in the corner that allowed him easy perusal of the entire room. He wondered if his war would ever really end.
He wasn't even an Auror anymore. I made the right choice, he thought with absolute certainty. Why does it feel so wrong?
Throwing back his head, he took another generous portion of his drink. He was broken, and he knew it. Like everything else he'd known to be broken, it could be fixed. Sometimes you even had to break things further to fix them, though he certainly didn't want that.
No, he knew what he had to do next. He needed to get out and socialize. He couldn't take it all upon himself, no matter how much he might wish to. And he'd start with the Ministry Ball coming up. What better way to fix himself than to celebrate the War truly ending?
He stood, approaching the bar and wordlessly handing Ross, the bartender, a bag of galleons worth far more than he made in several months, probably a year. The kid worked hard, and Harry had a suspicion he wouldn't be back for a long time.
He needed to move on, and moping in a pub was not going to do it.
The Ministry had been hard at work since the War, Harry knew. Entering the formal halls located at the end of level one, he saw just how much. He had only been to these halls a few times after the Battle of Little Hangleton. While they celebrated the War's end then, he knew that it wasn't. Not until every Death Eater was caught.
It is finally over. These were not words that were unfamiliar; he had said them after Voldemort's death, and he had said them after they caught Macnair. It wasn't true the first time. Harry desperately hoped it was this time.
Harry realized he had just been standing still taking in the sights and, unsurprisingly, looking like an idiot. He started moving down the sleek black hall, taking in the golden statues and lavish decorations. Withdrawing an invite from his formal robes, he saw the ball was held in the main room. He had stopped at the door, and only now did he realize how much he didn't want to be here. Despite that realization he pushed the door open.
His senses were immediately overwhelmed. The ballroom was very large and there were many wizards and witches in attendance. Almost subconsciously he had begun moving towards the corner of the room. He didn't know many people and he needed to calm down and get a grip on his senses.
Finally arriving in a place of relative solitude, Harry practiced a meditation technique that Remus had shown him. It was simply a way to clear the mind and control yourself. It helped that Harry was an accomplished Occlumens. Slowly, the Boy-Who-Lived emerged. This is what they expected; what they wanted.
Now confident and in control, he performed another inspection of the hall. Most of the people here were simply gregarious partygoers. There were also ambitious Ministry workers and those duty-bound to go. Harry kept his senses open, listening for anything interesting.
For a few minutes, he simply walked around. Harry was famous, but not nearly as much of a tabloid sensation. Nobody really bothered him besides to shake his hand and thank him for his service. There were some glares, of course, from the old guard and those who were jealous. This was normal.
Suddenly though, Harry heard something interesting. A smooth, self-assured voice brought back many memories. He turned left face to see Draco Malfoy speaking with some brown-haired legal witch.
"Anyways, Granger, nobody is going to help you with your policy. Word is, a lot of money and prestige is against your statements. Come with me and we can make deal," he finished pompously,
With a determined gait, Harry approached Malfoy, "Hello there."
Malfoy spun on his heels, fear in his eyes. Good, he remembers me and what I did, Harry analyzed.
Draco Malfoy was a very confident man. Before he'd attained his scar, he'd also been good looking in a poncey sort of way. Now, though, the first thing you saw when you looked at him was the neat scar across his lower face, from one cheek to the other. A portion of his lips weren't able to be regrown, and forever visible were his shiny white teeth. All in all, Malfoy was a gruesome sight.
Harry grinned but it didn't reach his eyes, "Well, Malfoy, it's been a while. Remember me?"
He did. "Ah, I.. Potter. I do. How could I not?"
Harry nodded, "True, I am pretty hard to forget. I never forgot the men who scarred me; though I must say they were a lot more of a threat than you are," Harry nodded to Draco — who was looking suspicious pale — before swiveling to look at the woman he was speaking to. "Hello. What is your name?"
"My name is Hermione Granger," she responded in a somewhat condescending manner. Most legal folk were like that, though.
Harry nodded, raising her hand to his lips, "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger."
"Oh, well, I must say I am pleased to meet you as well," she began.
"Look, I'd love to stay around and listen to you two prattle on but I have other things to do, I really must be going," Draco cut in. Throughout their exchange, Draco had been getting angrier and angrier, Harry knew. Draco Malfoy loved to be the centre of attention. To be ignored burned him.
Harry nodded, pulling a card from his robe and handing it to Hermione, "Here is my contact information. If this bastard threatens you, I'd be happy to give him another scar. Perhaps a more deadly one."
Harry walked away, not waiting for a response. He didn't particularly like the woman, he just hated Malfoy, causing him grief always made him feel better. He just wished he hadn't missed with that several charm.
Before he could continue his walk and polite chat, he noticed a bit of commotion. Turning to the source of attention, he saw Minister Weasley arriving with several guards as well as what appeared to be his family, if the red haired individuals behind him didn't give it away.
Harry had worked with the Order of the Phoenix and led it after the death of Albus Dumbledore. He knew Arthur and Molly, as well as their eldest child Bill. Arthur had never been a combat oriented type, he was more of an informant on the inner-workings of the Ministry. When the Ministry collapsed, Arthur hadn't been very useful though he had still done his best.
Molly Weasley had surprised him. She was a kind-hearted woman who worked more as a healer and cook for the Ministry. He knew the names of each of her children, as she had never ceased talking about them at Order dinners. At the Battle of Hogwarts, though, she had proven herself a true Gryffindor. Harry had seen the youngest Weasley, Ginevra, and some friends battling with Bellatrix Lestrange. He had been about to kill her when Bellatrix used a Killing Curse. Ginevra had nearly been hit, and this seemed to awaken Molly's inner lion. In what had seemed to be a flash, Molly was engaged in one of the most intense duels Harry had ever witnessed. Just as quickly, Molly killed Bellatrix. This had earned her Harry's undying respect; if there was one thing Harry could understand, it was the need to protect family. That maternal feeling is he was alive, after all.
Bill Weasley had been much the same. As a curse breaker, he had some combat knowledge as well as great knowledge in spell variety. He also bore a wicked battle-scar, courtesy of Fenrir Greyback. It was very similar to the scar that Harry himself had earned, though his had been from a knife, courtesy of Bellatrix Lestrange. She really had been a mad bitch.
These three Weasleys had given Harry a rather high view of them as a family, and he respected them immensely. He could see Percy, Ronald, and Ginevra also in attendance. He knew Percy as everyone did: the well-meaning enthusiastic (too enthusiastic, if you asked Harry) Justice. After the war, he had been one of the main members of the Ministry to competently reorganize it and had received a position as a Justice on the new Wizengamot.
Ronald had fought in the War but Harry had never really seen him, so he didn't know him all that well, but he respected anyone who fought in the final battles. They were truly harrowing situations.
Ginevra, he had seen fighting, but only that fight with Bellatrix. That fight in itself had been very showing of her character: Anyone willing to fight Bellatrix was worthy of an Order of Merlin. He did notice that she had grown into a beautiful young woman, which reminded him why he was here tonight: women and free alcohol.
Harry noticed that the Weasleys were immediately surrounded by people. He breathed a sigh of relief; just because he was used to speaking with people didn't mean he had to like it. This also gave him time to nick a glass from the table next to him. Looking down, he noted it was simply a butterbeer. With a shrug he drank the contents and put it back down.
Harry decided to go get actual alcohol. If he was going to speak with anyone, he was going to need some liquid courage.
A few hours later saw Harry sitting in a back corner scowling in between sips of his drink. His several attempts and being sociable failed miserable, especially when he tried to chat up a few 'birds' as Sirius had been fond of saying. Star-struck idiots, all of them.
He knew he had drank slightly too much and it would not be a good idea to get drunk at a Ministry event. Standing, he set his glass down on the table and made to walk away. Besides, I have plenty of alcohol at home. Haven't even run out of Sirius' good stuff.
This thought just angered him, though. He couldn't help but remember the times that he'd had with Sirius like his first drink when he had turned sixteen. Sirius had watched as he got pissed and made a fool of himself. Harry had been in pain the morning after and furious. He had been so annoyed that he'd spent a week creating a potion that was similar to the Hangover Cure but instead simply cured his inebriation. Taking it made you instantly sober. Harry usually took it before he went to sleep, when he was drunk. Most nights, then, Harry added.
Halfway across the hall, though, he was stopped by a voice he didn't recognize, "What's got your knickers in a twist then, Potter?"
He blinked. He'd been spoken to reverently all night, it was almost refreshing to be talked to so brusquely. Turning, he saw it was Ginevra, "I don't feel like there's much to celebrate," he replied, more heatedly than he had intended, "Anyways, there's no good company here."
To his surprise, she snorted in a very unladylike fashion, "Isn't that the truth. Still, sulking is bad for your health, and I've seen you drink quite a few glasses tonight."
Harry grinned, "Been watching me, have you?"
She nodded matter-of-factly, "Yeah. Hard not to see the big prat in the corner practically drowning himself with firewhisky."
Harry's grin widened and he knew he'd met a master at verbal battling, "Right, you got me there. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to go drown myself at home."
She nodded, but as Harry began to turn, he heard Arthur's exuberant voice, "Ginny, there you are. Oh, and Harry, too! I've been looking for you all night, lad. I see you've met my beautiful daughter, but I thought I'd introduce you to my family; or at least the ones you haven't met."
Harry nodded sadly, knowing it would be impolite to refuse now, "Of course, sir, I'd be honoured."
Ginevra, or Ginny, as Arthur had called her, laughed. Following Arthur and Ginny, he was led to the centre table. Thankfully, at this late hours, only the Weasleys were there. Arthur pulled Harry in front of him, "Alright, clan, I want you guys to meet Harry Potter. He's a good friend of your mother and I."
Bill stood first, and the rest followed. He reached his hand out for Harry to shake, "I know we've met, Harry, but it's been a while. Good to see you again."
Harry shook his hand firmly, "You as well, Bill. How have things been?"
Bill's eyes lit up, "Very interesting, actually, we think we may have located a tomb we've been searching for for a few years now."
Harry was genuinely interested, "You'll have to tell me more later."
After Bill confirmed he would, Harry turned to Percy and repeated the handshake. Before Harry could get a word in, Percy began, "Mr. Potter, it's a pleasure to meet someone as renowned as yourself."
Harry was annoyed but at this point he was used to it, "Thank you, Justice. How has the Wizengamot been? I know there were a lot of folks worried about the new system, but it seems to have been performing admirably."
Percy practically glowed with glee, "Oh, it's been wonderful. True justice has been served with crisp efficiency. We will be conducting Macnair's trial soon, and I know you personally have a stake in that. Congratulations on that catch, by the way."
Harry thanked him and moved on to the next in line, Molly, and raised her hand to his lips. After a moment, he spoke, "Mrs. Weasley, as always, it's a delight to see you. How have you been?"
Molly hugged him in one of her infamous hugs, "Oh, dear child, I've been wonderful. How have you been? I hate that you live alone."
Harry nodded sadly in acceptance, "It's been hard, but I'm alright. Sirius was a good man and he taught me a lot. I was prepared."
Seeing this conversation going dark, Harry turned to the next one, Ronald, "Hello, Ronald, how are you?"
Harry asked it politely, hoping to not cause offense, but it seemed Harry's lack of knowledge or praise had Ronald bristling, "Fine, Potter."
Harry raised his hand for a handshake but Ronald didn't reciprocate and after an awkward few seconds he let it fall. Ignoring Molly's reprimand towards Ronald, he turned to Ginny.
"If you try to kiss my hand I'll hex you," Ginny informed him cheekily and Harry raised an eyebrow.
Bill chortled, "She's not lying, Potter, I've taught her some good ones."
Harry grinned, offering his hand. Her hands were an anomaly, firm but soft at the same time. Calloused but not worn.
After all introductions were finished, Harry sat across from Arthur politely. He didn't really want to stay but he could do worse for company.
Deciding that if he was going to stay here, he didn't want it to be awkward, he turned to Bill, "So, Bill, you were telling me about a tomb you've located?"
Bill nodded eagerly, "Yes. Our team at Gringotts has been looking for this tomb since 1994. We found it in another tomb, written in the ancient language. Ancient Runes comes in handy, especially for curse breakers. A lot of tombs are inter-connected, so most we uncover have runes that will speak of other tombs, typically friends or family members of those entombed. This one, though, only had the name and country: The Pythia in Greece. We believe this to mean the Oracle of Delphi, probably her resting grounds. She was a famous seer."
Harry was very interested in this topic, and he knew that Remus would have been hooked on every word Bill said. He'd also heard of the Seer of Delphi, or Oracle as she was known in the muggle Greek religion. Remus had been fascinated by this topic.
"That's fascinating. My tutor, Remus Lupin, you know him, loved telling me about the Seer. You're telling me that you may have her location? I'd love to be able to join you there," Harry really would as well. The idea of the history behind it was staggering.
Bill's glee was practically palpable: not many people were interested in curse breaking, "Well, if you weren't an Auror, I could probably take you on it. We can't take anyone who isn't with Gringotts or an employee, unfortunately."
Harry turned to Arthur and saw he looked a little embarrassed, "I see Arthur here forget to make the Auror list public. Anyways, I decided not to sign the papers; I'm unemployed," Harry informed him, wondering if he wanted to do this.
"What? Why the bloody hell would you not take the job?" Ronald asked, far louder than he probably intended.
Harry glared at him, his neat composure breaking for a minute, "When you fight and kill in war, when you watch your entire family — at least, those that didn't die before you even had a chance to know them — die in war, you find that being an Auror is not all that glorious as people make it out to be," He couldn't keep the coldness from his voice.
After a moment of shocked silence, Molly, Arthur, and Percy all started reprimanding Ronald. Beside him, Ginny giggled, "You've made one hell of an impression of them, Harry."
Bill nodded knowingly, and Harry realized that besides for him, Bill was the most likely to understand what he meant. Bill had been there when Fred had died, and he was the most battle-experienced of the Weasley family. Harry shrugged, "You're right. I'm sorry I went off like that, that just happens sometimes."
Ginny turned serious, "Ignore Ron, Harry, he gets jealous a lot. The idea of you doing a job he'd wanted annoys him, even though he could've done it if he'd just worked in school. Now he works with our brother George in a joke shop."
Harry nodded solemnly, looking at the gathered family, "I understand, trust me. I understand how damaging jealousy can be. You guys are very lucky."
Ginny slapped him on the arm playfully, "Don't get all sappy on us now, Potter."
Bill brought Harry back to the topic they had previously discussed, "So, Harry, would you be interested in working with us? The job could be temporary until after this and you can decide if you want it. You'd be, in a way, my apprentice. At least, that's how the goblins see it."
Harry considered it. It sounded amazing, but he didn't want to make an important decision at the drop of a hat, especially considering his slight inebriation, "It does sound bloody amazing. When are you all getting involved? I've got two problems; first of all, I want time to think about it, and secondly, I've got a bit of bad history with Gringotts."
Bill grinned, "Oh, I heard about the dragon escapade, trust me. It's pretty much all water under the bridge, especially since you reimbursed them for damages cost."
Harry was confused, "I did? I don't remember that."
"Who owns your vault?"
Harry's eyes widened, "They can do that?"
Bill chuckled, "Relax, Harry. What it costs for repairs didn't even put a dent in your fortune. In fact, it's already grown past what you lost. Your father must have made some smart investments because the fortune is only growing."
"Actually, it was my mother, and yes, she had a mind for that sort of thing. Anyways, when do I have to confirm if I can come with you? Frankly, I'm still considering my career options. I've basically narrowed it down to joining Quidditch professionally or teaching Defence. Now curse breaker, too, I suppose."
Ginny jumped in, "Professional Quidditch?"
Harry nodded, "Yeah, a few teams scouted me due to my skill as a Seeker on the Auror inter-ministry team. You a fan of Quidditch?"
Bill answered for her, much to her anger, "A fan, Harry? Blimey, you're really out of connections, aren't you? Ginny played for the Holyhead Harpies for a few years until… well, that's her story to tell."
Harry turned to Ginny in interest but he could see she looked uncomfortable. Deciding it would be impolite to ask, he apologized, "I'm sorry if I've brought up anything uncomfortable. No need to tell me anything, I was just curious."
Ginny nodded and he turned back to Bill, "So, how much time?"
"You have a week."
Harry sighed. Why is it always a week?
Harry uncorked a small bottle, drinking the Intoxication Cure, before laying down in his bed and pulling the covers over him. He couldn't stop thinking about what Bill had said. Being a curse breaker was incredibly dangerous at times and was really for those seeking adventure and wealth. Harry had an immense amount of wealth already, so he didn't really need that.
Adventure, though. Harry had enjoyed visiting other countries and thought that unearthing old tombs would be very exciting. Not only that, but interesting. The Seer of Delphi was infamous in history. He imagined the excitement he could feel, finally unearthing her tomb, and he was getting excited just thinking about it.
The last time he'd had a week to make a decision, Harry had agonized over it to the point of genuine stress. Now, though, Harry's choice was easy. He hated the confinement of being an Auror, and this curse breaker position seemed like a great way to find freedom. He needed to escape.
And this was it. Tomorrow he would talk to Bill. Tomorrow, he would break free.
As it was a weekend, he had been assured that Bill would be home. Harry decided to floo call Bill at exactly ten in the morning. Harry had been embarrassingly excited about this call.
"Bill, are you here?" He called out, viewing what appeared to be Bill's living room. To his surprise, though Ginny walked into the room.
"Harry? Oh, bad luck, He's in the shower."
"What are you doing at Bill's flat?" Harry queried.
"I live here. After I moved out to rent a flat with the Harpies, I realized how much I love being away from mum's suffocating presence. When I… had to leave the Harpies, I decided I really didn't want to move back home so Bill let me live here while I seek a new job."
Harry nodded, "Alright, that makes sense. Anyways, I wanted to tell Bill that I accept his job."
Ginny grinned at him, "He said you would. He said, and I quote, 'He's got that look in his eyes.' Frankly, I think you're both mental. Who wants to go digging around for some old musty dead people?"
"Oh, afraid of dirt are you, Weasley?" He teased.
She growled, "Oh, it's you who should be afraid, Potter. Anyways, you can come on through, if you want, Bill will be out soon."
Harry stifled a sigh of relief. His knees were starting to ache. He came through rather ungracefully and landed in a heap. He could hear Ginny laughing uproariously, "The Boy-Who-Can't-Floo-For-Shite, eh?" Harry just glared at her.
"Ginny, what are you laughing about?" Bill appeared in the doorway and his eyebrows rose when he saw Harry on the floor. With a groan, Harry got up.
"Oh, Harry here tumble through the floo. I guess he was eager to tell you he'd take your job."
Harry groaned again, "As your sister so eloquently put it: yes, I want to the job."
Bill smiled kindly, "I knew you would."
Ginny looked smug. Harry sighed.
Bill looked down, realizing he only had a towel wrapped around himself, "Well, I'll uh… leave you folks to talk, gotta get dressed."
Harry looked pointedly at Ginny, "So, Gin, what are you going to do for a living?"
Ginny glared at him, "What did you just call me?"
Harry grinned, "Are you going to answer me… Gin?"
"I have half a mind to beat you right now," she warned him.
"Fiery one, are you? Blimey," Harry exclaimed.
She sighed, "Honestly though, I have no idea what I'm going to do, I've been pretty directionless lately. Quidditch was my dream."
Harry quirked an eyebrow, still curious about what stopped her. Suddenly, a light flashed on in his head and he saw an opportunity, "Ginny, I, er, that is to say... Bloody hell, would you be interested in going out and getting some dinner some time?"
Ginny just smirked at him, "Are you trying to ask me on a date? Because that was terrible."
Harry laughed, "Of course I am. Didn't you just see me come out the floo? I'm not a very graceful man."
Ginny's smirk widened, "You're paying."
Harry nodded.
"I get to pick the place," she continued.
Harry nodded remarkably less confident.
"It's a date, then," she confirmed smugly.
Harry realized his vault was liable to take a sizable hit. Good thing he was loaded.
"Maybe the papers are right about you," she continued teasingly.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, surely you know they paint you as a heartbreaking stud out to get as many women as possible?" she said in a perfectly innocent tone.
"Wait, do they really?" he asked. Harry hadn't read any of that garbage since before the War.
Ginny was shocked, "Where do you live? Under a rock?"
Harry just sighed, "The Prophet is a piece of trash and most other papers are as well. Forget most of the shite you read in that."
She nodded sincerely, "Of course. I already knew that, I just wanted to take the piss. Sorry."
He waved her apology away, "No problem. Anyways, does Monday night sound good? Around seven?"
Ginny nodded and Bill took that moment to enter, saving them both from awkward silence before it began, "Alright that's better. So, Harry, can you be in to Gringotts at 8 in the morning on Monday? I'll meet you in the lobby and take you to my office."
Harry nodded, "That's perfectly fine for me. I've always been an early riser."
Ginny took this moment to intercede, "Oh, Bill, don't keep him in too late, yeah? I've got a date with him now."
Harry's eyes widened. He had not wanted to share that yet.
Bill was shocked, "Oi, Harry, what are you playing at?"
Harry glared at Ginny, who was smiling impishly, before turning back to Bill, "Ah, well, you see… Oh, bugger. I've not been on a date since the end of the bloody War and your sister is a beautiful woman who doesn't look at me like I'm some public display," Harry ranted before blushing. He really had not meant to say all that.
Ginny giggled and Bill smirked, "Relax, Harry, I stopped the big brother act after she hexed me. It was with the spell I taught her, mind you. Be careful with that witch."
Ginny glared at Bill now, "Be careful, Bill, I'm going on a date with the Boy-Who-Lived, I could probably get him to hex you too."
Harry gawked at her, "Blimey, Ginny, I'm not an attack dog."
She turned at him and winked, "Quiet, boy."
Harry groaned. He knew he'd never win with her. Bill and Ginny laughed.
Harry walked into his home and entered the kitchen. He was grinning widely and he couldn't seem to stop. He knew he looked like an idiot, but he felt better than he had in years. He had a new career open, one that was exciting and well paying, and he had a date with a beautiful if somewhat cheeky woman.
Harry knew that today was a very important day in his life. He'd just taken his first steps towards fixing himself. He was beginning to live again.
A/N: I wrote a lot today. I mean, a mind-numbing lot. When I find a lot of free time I just write and today I hit a really good spree. I decided I'd upload this since I'm so far ahead of schedule. From this point on, I'll likely upload one to two chapters of this a week. There really shouldn't be that many more chapters than ten, I never intended for this to be a super long story, just a nice, average sized fic.
I also just uploaded the first chapter of the Quidditch Harry story, Taking Flight, here as well. It's a shorter and lighter style and won't be as long as this one. I'd like to mention that I had no idea how many stories there were on this site called "Taking Flight" but after a quick Google search, it turns out it's a hell of a lot. Sweet Merlin!
Anyways, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! There may be a few grammar errors that my poor eyes couldn't catch in there, feel free to call me out for being a dolt if you see 'em!