Some of you are wondering why I never took up Professional quidditch. I was youngest seeker in a century my first year of Hogwarts. This only means to me it had been one hundred years since they bent the rules to allow a first year a broom. I suppose I had a good win-loss record. To tell the truth I don't really care all that much about quidditch.
I was a seeker, which means I wasn't all that involved in the game. Seekers play a parallel game to the keepers, chasers and beaters but not the same game. A seeker's actions can totally invalidate a whole game of play. And for that reason I have always felt quidditch was a silly game. Frankly the Wizarding World is a silly world so it makes sense that its official sport is just as silly. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy watching a good match now and then but I couldn't imagine doing it as a career.
What I really enjoy is flying. I was a natural on a broom the moment I sat on one first year. Family friends said my Dad took me flying at an early age as well. There is nothing to compare to the sheer joy and freedom I feel as I soar through the sky. The speed of a racing broom ain't half bad either. No, a game of quidditch just gets in the way of a good flight.
People who knew about my love of flying sometimes remarked my animagus form must be a bird. Who knows it could be possible but I never pursued that line of study because I simply didn't inherit my father aptitude for transfiguration. He was a transfiguration prodigy who achieved animagus transformation by age 15. Don't bother trying to look it up the rebellious little sod never bothered to register but I have heard witness statements to that fact as he helped two other achieve the same thing. He was a stag, for those of you who love that kind of trivia.
It does make me wonder, do I have an inner bird? Is that why I'm so good at flying and why I enjoy it so much. Birds seem to like me too. Hedwig my late lamented snowy owl adored me and sometimes treated me as one of her chicks. The headmaster's phoenix liked me too. Fawkes always greeted me when I visited the headmaster's office and asked for a scritch when he seemed to ignore everyone else who visited. During Care of Magical Creatures we had the privilege of observing and caring for a hippogriff. I got to fly on it but that may have been Hagrid playing favorites more than a part bird creature taking a liking to me. I may be a parselmouth and though I have always found it boring, useless ability. Talking to and being to understand birds on the other hand would be awesome.
"Harry, you are such a goof," Hermione giggled the contents of the chapter were not that much of a surprise to her. She knew his main reason for playing quidditch was the flying.
"Eh, I'm running out of things to write. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all."
"Your life is fascinating. You could easily get seven books from you life." She argued.
"I guess I'm not that objective" he sighed. He started to count off the reasons on his fingers. "Pre-Hogwarts. I've said all I'm going to. First year, boring. Second year, embarrassing. Third year….I guess I could write about Sirius but I can't mention the time-turner. Fourth year…the less said about it the better. Fifth year, crap. Sixth year ,ugh. Seventh….I don't want any record of horcruxes. Career - blah. Family life -who cares."
"Harry." She shook her head. "You're definitely not objective. There are tons of interesting stories in there."
"Yeah, I guess," He said glumly, resting his chin on his hand. "I just don't want to make the book about Voldemort."
"You and Voldemort are hopelessly intertwined. You can't avoid him. Maybe make one chapter about his life and his run-ins with you. And then you won't have to dwell on him for the rest."
"Maybe."