Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money
Acknowledgments: Onichun, Commalies2003, and Rdg2000 for the beta work on this chapter.
Note: There's been some reviewer comments about the flashback nature. Every chapter will start in the 'present' and every inserted line is either the past, or back to the present. Most chapters will end in the present, too, but this one doesn't.
Chapter 3
Canada
"The Canucks then, eh?" Jason said staring up at the celebrating Canadian chaser. They'd decided to watch the match mostly because they needed a legitimate reason to skip the team meeting. Well, at least a reason better than 'we were hung over and didn't feel like listening to you.' And, being players in the tournament made it slightly easier to get tickets.
"What do you know about Sinclair?" Harry asked. He knew next to nothing about the North American leagues. There was little reason to read too many reports on them as he never had to play against most of the players.
"Slept with her once," Titus said dryly. For some reason that didn't surprise Harry.
"When was this?" Jason asked.
"Couple of years back, before she decided to stay home and sign with Toronto. She did a tour of the French teams while I happened to be vacationing in France." Titus explained as they stood to file slowly out of the packed arena.
"How was that?" Jason asked.
"Rather fun," Titus said dryly. "Had she signed in France I would have considered maybe attempting something that looks like a relationship."
"Lies," Jason commented. Titus just shrugged.
"That's all fine and probably a very interesting story. But I was more interested in her quidditch tactics," Harry commented.
"There's our usual boring Harry!" Jason practically yelled. "Always interested in the fantastically dull aspect of any conversation."
"Just trying to win," Harry responded.
"Worry about winning later. You have a week to read the scouting reports," Jason whined.
"Awesome, all the more reason to not go out with you two tonight," Harry responded with a faux cheerfulness.
"She's very small and very quick. She out flies just about everyone she plays against. She's won two league MVPs in the Americas. She's by far the best player on the Canadian squad. She's not far off of a Canadian Krum. Better looking though," Titus explained as they weaved through some slower moving fans.
"How the hell do you know that?" Jason asked.
"Oh come now, Jason, you couldn't figure it out?" Harry teased. "Titus likes the cute little Canadian girl."
"Like your agent more," Titus responded.
"Everyone likes his agent more," Jason deadpanned. "But you and Sinclair?"
"Only if she didn't live in Toronto," Titus responded. "But now that Harry has his preliminary scouting report we can move on to more important topics. Like where we're going to drink tonight."
"Bar on the corner from our hotel had some talent in it last night when I walked past," Jason said as they finally made it out of the stadium.
"Great," Titus responded. "Let's grab three stools and see where the night takes us. If it's too boring we can make Harry tell more of his story."
"Let's hope it doesn't get to that point," Harry laughed as they apparated back to the lobby of their all magical hotel before walking toward the bar. They were early and the place was nearly empty, so Harry once again found himself having to talk of his past.
He skipped the vast majority of his second season. The three of them all knew how it has played out. The Tornadoes, despite the loss of their highest scoring chaser, continue on the pace they'd played at the end of the year.
The team was actually a bit closer with Williams gone. They drafted a young Hogwarts chaser and signed a veteran seeker to back up Harry. Fredericks stayed on as an assistant seeker coach, although the older man didn't particularly do much in that role unless pressed to by Harry. Felicity Hillard was named the team captain at one of the summer practices, which came as a relief to Harry. There'd been a great deal of speculation in the Tutshill papers that he was going to become the captain, but he hadn't thought he was ready, and was glad when he wasn't even asked. Hillard had been with the team for years, and would do a much better job than a second year seeker.
And her impact was almost immediate. She'd made them attend more events as a team. She'd made them become more active in the Tutshill area until they were a fixture of the Tutshill magical community. She'd also had weekly cookouts at her own home in Tutshill, often inviting many local families, especially those that had children. It was fun. Ginny had even come a couple of times, mostly begrudgingly and enjoyed herself.
Still, well before the season started Harry felt they were far more bonded as a team than they had been in the previous season. Of course, that may have just been because he had been the lone rookie on the team, and most of the other players had largely ignored him for the first couple of weeks.
But the practices were more fun, and they often wound up at a local establishment for a brew after. It was fun. Harry felt like a much better teammate as he discussed his sport and life with his teammates. He grew particularly close to Hillard, who made it quite clear, in private, that any chance the Tornadoes had would come down to him catching the snitch. He was rather determined to not let her down.
And he didn't. In the first match of the year they played Ballycastle. It marked Jason Williams's return to Tutshill and started as a very tense affair. Williams was greeted by plenty of boos and lots of very negative signage. And it only got worse when the chaser scored two very quick goals.
But it didn't matter. The match had only lasted fifteen minutes. The fact that the Tornadoes only mustered two goals became completely irrelevant as Harry looped over the Ballycastle seeker and snatched the snitch almost out of his opposite's hair. Very few in the crowd had even noticed that he caught the snitch. One of the officials flew over and blew his whistle, effectively ending the match. They hadn't played well in the fifteen minutes, but the 170-60 final over one of the best teams in the league looked very nice. Ginny had even come out for the game, and joined in the team party after. Harry had a brief hope that after a year of marriage they would be better.
He would miss her first game of the season, as it coincided with his second, but she understood. They both won and came home rather tipsy, which led to a rather fun night for them both. All in all, it was a great start to the year.
Things only got better, too. Ginny received some advertising revenue becoming a new spokeswoman for the Comet broom company. She was thrilled to do the commercials and appear at events. She loved being the center of attention.
It was about halfway through the year that Cleansweep approached Daphne Greengrass and told her that Comet sales were crushing theirs since the ad campaign. They figured the only way to respond was hire the second hottest young quidditch star. Harry agreed without really thinking about it. He was actually more surprised by the amount of galleons Cleansweep offered than anything else. So was Ginny, his deal dwarfed hers. She was cold for a couple of days, but called her agent to complain instead of taking it out on him.
But again, as the season wore on, they each had a variety of commitments to keep, and they did their best to do so. Unfortunately, it resulted in them spending much less time with each other. Eventually, their routine became strictly physical. If they even had any time with each other they typically spent it in bed. On one hand, Harry rather enjoyed that it resulted in a complete lack of quidditch talk. On the other, he was sad that they didn't really talk about anything.
The season continued. The Harpies pounded just about everyone they played, including the worst loss of Harry's career as a starter, beating the Tornadoes 360-60. The game had gotten out of hand early and Harry hadn't even seen the snitch before the Harpy seeker caught it. But the Tornadoes recovered quickly with a pounding of Falmouth, winning 400-110. The playoffs came quickly and it seemed to be a foregone conclusion to most of the pundits that Tutshill and Holyhead would be playing in the finals. Harry wasn't quite as sure, but he was determined to see the Tornadoes get there.
"Finally," Williams commented as they walked down the tunnel that led to the pitch for the match against Canada.
"Yea, about time you go to the point where people are actually interested," Button commented.
"You were probably both cheering with the Harpies," Harry responded dryly. "Wasn't Titus sleeping with one of them at the time?"
"Irrelevant. They beat us, as such they needed to lose," Titus answered without answering the actual question.
"That about sums it up," Jason said. "Despite my comments too, I never disliked the Tornadoes. Only disliked the fact that they didn't pay me what I felt I was worth."
"Isn't that the same thing?" Harry asked.
"Not really," Jason defended himself without more explanation than that. Harry shrugged, figuring he wouldn't get anything more out of the chaser.
"Enough blathering about former teams that I wasn't on. I want to hear about the championship." Titus ordered.
"I'm sure you watched it or listened to it or something," Harry commented.
"Well yea, but I was drunk," Titus responded.
"And you didn't read a box score, or see a replay, or anything?" Harry teased as the three of them flipped onto their brooms and shot up into the air. The crowd was sparse, but they were out to warm up well before the match would start. It would fill up before the quaffle fell.
"Well I did, but I'm sure your rendition will be more interesting," Titus commented.
"I doubt it. It was just a game. Overhyped and anticlimactic like they all seem to be anymore," Harry commented. But he knew he wouldn't get out of continuing his story that easily.
The buildup for the game was incredible. Harry was amazed at the requests for tickets he got from all sorts of people he hadn't heard from in years. He'd sent the requests to Daphne, who took care of all of it for him. Of course, there were some interesting conversations.
"You do realize Gregory Goyle is on your request list, right?" she asked one night as they had dinner and were discussing his investments. Since their first meeting Harry had actually preferred to discuss almost everything relating to business at either lunch or dinner. It angered Ginny. Somehow, she just never understood that it was just business. But the entire tradition had started because she was usually too busy to go out for food with him. Daphne served as a nice substitute.
Of course, it didn't take him long to realize that she was very beautiful. Why he hadn't noticed that in school was beyond him. Probably because of the different houses. But he could have honestly answered that she was every bit as pretty as Fleur, although in a different way. She was more composed, English, and had just a charming, fun demeanor, even when they were discussing business.
"Gregory Goyle?" He asked. "And you got him a ticket?"
"No," Daphne said. "But I was rather impressed with his ability to worm his way onto your request list. Someone at the Tornadoes needs to clear those things with you."
"Probably, I just told them to compile a list of requests and things that came for me and gave that to you," Harry laughed.
"This so isn't my job, you know," she said.
"Want a raise?" Harry teased.
"Always. But I'll wait until you get one," she responded without missing a beat. She cut off a bit of her halibut, speared it and the end of a green bean and ate both in one bite.
"Well who'd you get tickets?" he asked, cutting off some of his duck and eating it.
"Three for Bill Weasley, two for Ron Weasley, One for Luna Lovegood and two for Neville Longbottom. That was the eight you were allotted," she responded. "And the team requested that you handle all of your own tickets from here on. I told them if they gave me an extra ticket I would relay the message. So they did." He was surprised the Weasley's hadn't gone through Ginny, but he supposed she could only get so many tickets too, he was probably their second option.
"And who's that one for?"
"Me, duh," she responded. "I'm taking the night off being your representation and simply being a fan. I hope you don't mind."
"Not in the slightest. Have a blast," Harry commented as he finished off his duck.
"I fully plan on it," she replied. "Do me a favor and win so I can make even more money off of you."
"As long as I get the majority of it," he laughed. Their waiter came and cleared their plates. Earlier in the evening he'd mistaken them for a couple. It only ever happened in Muggle restaurants, but was still awkward when it did.
"Of course, of course, greedy bastard," she teased.
"Says the woman who just ordered me to make more money," he added. The waiter brought dessert menus, but the two just ordered some after dinner drinks.
"Well that's my job. And I have expensive tastes. There's this gorgeous dress in the window at Gucci and I promised myself it if I get a nice big payday. Looks like you're the last chance before it becomes last season."
"I see. So I'm a slave to your fashion sense?"
"Pretty much. You did compliment me on my dress tonight when we sat down," she explained, leaning back in her chair to give him another good view of it. It was a pretty green number. Harry had complimented her on it. But only because of where it first drew his eyes.
"Yes it's very nice," he said again, quickly lifting his newly brought coffee and taking a sip of it.
"You just like it because it makes my boobs look phenomenal," she responded, leaning back toward the table.
"Caught me," Harry admitted. Daphne smiled quite a bit at that comment.
"So, how are things with you and Ginny?" she asked. He'd confessed marital troubles earlier in a longwinded conversation about how she was mad at him about one thing or another. This next question had become a bit of their banter.
"Why, going to try to sleep with me tonight?" Harry deadpanned.
"Not yet, but we'll see, you look like you need it." That was new. But he chose to continue the banter.
"Thought you didn't believe in relationships with clients."
"Oh, well yes, that too," she teased. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."
"I'm a happily married man, Daphne," Harry lied lightly, keeping the mood happy and fun.
"So that's a yes?" she teased more. He just shook his head, hiding a smile, and kept drinking his coffee. Looking back he should have realized how much fun the flirting was, and how he felt like it was something he should do more of.
It didn't help that Ginny often reacted poorly to it. She always assumed he'd done something wrong whenever he got too flirty with her. Like he needed to make up for something. She just didn't find it very fun. But still, he knew there'd never be anything serious with Daphne, the same way he knew there'd never be anything serious with Felicia Hillard, even though he flirted with his captain, too. It was just fun, work-related banter. At least that's what he thought.
"Damn it Potter," Titus groaned. "You always get to the good part right when we have to go do something a tiny bit more important."
"I dunno, I think his agent is more interesting than the game," Jason commented.
"I don't, but mostly because she refused to sleep with me," Titus added. "But we have to go and beat the Canadians now."
"So did you ever actually bed Greengrass?" Jason asked, ignoring his other teammate.
"That's not part of the story," Harry commented dryly. But he intentionally didn't answer the question.
"But it's more interesting than the story. I haven't seen her around, is she coming for any of the matches?" Jason asked.
"She told me she'd show up for the finals, but was going to stay in England for the rest of the tournament to deal with other clients," Harry explained, tilting his broom toward the middle of the pitch.
"That's a shame, she's fun to look at. And a blast when we go out drinking," Jason sighed wistfully. "Write her and tell her to come."
"No. I'll pass," Harry laughed. "Go line up we're going to play."
"Fine," Jason laughed and flew off toward his wing.
"Just do me another favor, Harry?" Titus asked, flying up next to Harry.
"What this time?" Harry asked, turning over and looking at his beater friend.
"Don't beat them too badly. I think I'm going to look Sophie up after the match, so make sure she doesn't hate me." Titus sped off toward Gwenog. Harry just laughed and lifted himself far above the pitch, waiting for the quaffle to fall. The match wasn't nearly as tense as the championship had been. It probably should have been, as it was also win or go home, but knowing there was still much ground to cover, and not having his wife on the opposing team, made it just seem that much easier.
A hundred thousand screaming Harpy and Tornado fans made Harry's head start to ring as he flew onto the pitch. The championship was being played at the same site as the World Cup he attended years ago. It alternated between a few sites every year. Harry's favorite would be in two years, when it would be played just outside of London in a hidden pitch that offered fantastic views of the city. But he'd worry about that in two years. For now he just looked across the pitch at the Harpy seeker and waited for the quaffle. Dickerson, naturally, was calling the game with his usual gusto.
"Ladies and Gentlemen a match for the ages. We've been waiting since mid season to see this one. Two candidates for the league most valuable player squaring off against each other. But they're even more than that. The last time a married couple played opposing sides of the league finals was 1949. They'd been opposing keepers.
"But today we have a chaser. The leading point scorer in the league. Second only in goals to Katie Bell with the Arrows, and far and away the leader in assists on a Harpies team that smashed just about every scoring record in league history.
"And opposing we have a seeker. The leading snitch catcher in the league. Without a doubt the Tornadoes have ridden the back of Harry Potter to this game. Can he emerge victorious once more? We are about to find out!" Dickerson's voice barely rose above the cheering crowd.
Ginny hadn't talked about the Tornadoes at all. Tutshill had lost both games to Holyhead during the regular season, one of which Harry caught the snitch during. Because of that, the Harpies were generally favored by all of the experts. Coach Jacobs had a very simple strategy for the game. He'd come up with it on the basis of one single chant. Defense, defense, defense. The Tornadoes knew they couldn't outscore the Harpies, and they knew if they tried they'd likely be eaten alive. It was Harry's job to catch the snitch before they were down by one hundred and fifty. Because if they reached that point, they weren't coming back.
The Tornadoes assumed that the Harpies knew this. Their advantage would be scoring fast and scoring in bunches. They would try to speed up the game, and force Tutshill into bad situations. The Harpy chaser line was generally superior. But Jacobs thought they stood a chance. The harpies liked to be fast, and could be lulled into a slower pace by precision passing and spending a great deal of time in their zone. So that was the goal. Keep the quaffle, make the Harpies screw up. It seemed easy enough in the team meetings.
Of course, that was until Alicia Spinnet won the first draw and swerved between two Tornado chasers. Before they'd even reacted she passed the quaffle to Ginny. Hillard did her best to stop his wife, but Ginny just passed the quaffle back to Alicia as she dodged the bludger. Spinnet scored easily and less than a minute into the match it was already ten to nothing.
The Tornadoes were visibly startled by the quickness of the first goal. Most teams were. The Harpies came right at you, and did their best to keep that level of pressure up for the entire match. It was hard to counter. And they failed. The Tornadoes tried to slow the game down. But before they could even get the quaffle out of the defensive zone, Ginny stole it and scored again, easily. Harry knew it was going to be a long night then.
But he couldn't lose focus. He had to make sure the game didn't last too long into the night. They wouldn't have a chance if it did. He was determined to not be Krum in the World Cup. The Harpies may be the better team, but he was going to prove he was the best player on the pitch. Of course, that seemed considerably easier to accomplish before Ginny scored two more goals and made it forty to nothing in the blink of an eye. Hillard called a time out before the Tornadoes inbounded the next pass.
Harry landed by the team and listened to the argument already starting.
"Play some defense!" the keeper screamed at the chasers. They wisely chose to not comment. Hillard spoke next, resting her bat gently on her shoulder.
"Just play our game," she said calmly, although Harry thought she didn't look remotely calm. "We know what we have to do. We can't let them speed around like that. We'll focus the bludgers on their chasers. That's the best help we can give you. Harry, you going to be okay with no beater support?"
"I'll be fine," he responded quickly. He knew that he didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. They did have to slow down the Harpy chasers to have a shot at winning, and if that meant letting the Harpy beaters and seeker be virtually unopposed, so be it.
"Alright, good. Let's get back up there. We didn't come this far to roll over," Hillard said. The players shot back into the air as Harry remembered something from last night.
"Felicity," he said, the captain turned and looked at him. "Ginny is still favoring her left side from the last match. She's more beat up than she's letting on." He felt bad admitting it. But he wanted to win. Felicity just nodded and flew back up into the air as play resumed. Harry stuck low to the pitch, flying as fast as he could just above the grass, before spinning higher into the air.
He led a bludger toward the other Tornado beater, but didn't stick around long enough to see where it was hit. Instead he swooped through the shooting lane of one of the Harpy chasers, preventing a shot on a near open hoop. The Tornado keeper saved the shot that followed as Harry cut back across the pitch and resumed his quest for the snitch.
After a brief moment he checked up on the Holyhead seeker. She was floating high above the middle of the pitch, surveying everything. She'd obviously figured out that she didn't particularly have to worry about bludgers and was taking advantage of it. Still, it wasn't Harry's style to just observe. He felt flying around was a more effective way to find the snitch. He liked to keep moving.
He saw the Tornadoes score their first goal of the game. The chasers had worked their strategy to near perfection. They'd passed the quaffle around the offensive zone until the Harpies were drawn out of position. Another quick pass led to the keeper being in front of the wrong goal. A shot later they were only down by thirty.
But the Harpies didn't appreciate being scored on. They responded with a very quick goal. Ginny inbounded the quaffle nearly the length of the pitch to a wide open Alicia. They Tornado chasers hadn't expected that type of play and a mere ten seconds after scoring their first goal they were again down by forty.
It looked like the Harpies would increase the lead even more after a quick turnover, too, but the Tornadoes keeper made an incredible save. A quick relay to one of the Tornadoes chasers was nearly intercepted. But a nicely placed bludger from Hillard broke up the play. Harry went back to searching for the snitch as the Tornadoes entered the offensive zone for only the second time that match.
The game continued. The Tornadoes managed to score another goal. And had a fairly good chance for a third but the Harpy keeper saved it. Harry still saw no sign of the snitch. But the Harpy seeker looked to be far to content simply hovering above the action so he decided to pull into a quick feint until he flew under her, diving straight for the ground. She took the bait and followed. He made a few quick moves to ensure that he was positioned perfectly in front of her. He pulled out of the dive very close to the ground. Unfortunately, she did too. He noticed she was smiling as she shot past him. Well played, Harpy, he thought to himself.
Unfortunately, things were getting out of hand. The Harpies were tearing their chaser line apart. It was already 100-30. Harry took a deep breath and kept his focus. He flew around the pitch, surveying the game as much he could while looking for the snitch. He watched Hillard hit a bludger toward one of the Harpy chasers. The chaser didn't notice the iron ball flying toward her. Harry cut into its path, flying just ahead of it. He saw he was flying toward Ginny and couldn't help but wince again. She'd forgive him, though, it was part of the game. He flew over her, distracting her for a moment, but that was all it took for the bludger to drill her left side. Harry heard the loud crack, but didn't have the heart to look back.
Ginny soldiered on, though. She recovered the quaffle and went on to score yet another goal. Followed by a steal and a quick relay to Alicia for another goal. Harry couldn't help but laugh. Ginny looked completely determined to just make the Tornadoes pay. It was rather impressive. But he'd have been more impressed if he couldn't feel the lead slipping away every time she scored. His eyes glanced quickly to the giant scoreboard on the side of the pitch. 140-40.
Harry completely tuned out the other opponents. He didn't even see the other players as he flew around the stadium. He looked around the stadium, weaving in and out of players and bludgers as he did.
Eventually he saw a flash of gold. His heart nearly stopped, but his body reacted without thought. He spun and cut back to where he'd seen gold. Sure enough, the golden ball was racing away from him. He pushed after it, looking up at the Harpies seeker. She was looking the other way. It was his, he knew, unless he screwed up.
He pushed his broom as fast as it would go towards the golden ball. As if it sensed his presence it tried to outmaneuver him. But he was better than that. He trailed it perfectly. By the time the Harpies seeker actually noticed Harry was chasing the snitch, she also knew she had no chance of catching it. But she gave chase regardless. Harry barely noticed her presence. He didn't look at anything other than the snitch as he ran it down.
The snitch cut left, but Harry followed perfectly. It cut back right but Harry didn't miss a beat. Eventually, it simply leveled out and pressed forward, practically begging Harry to simply run it down. He sped up and chased it down. He barely heard the audible gasp from the crowd as they watched him close in on it.
With an anticlimactic final press Harry reached out. The snitch dodged his first snatch, but when he brought his hand down for a second time it wasn't so lucky. Harry almost immediately dropped the little golden ball. He couldn't believe he'd caught it. He swooped toward the center of the pitch, simply staring at it in his hand. The noise from the crowd was deafening, and he couldn't see which team's supporters were cheering the most.
He turned toward the scoreboard as an official flew up to check over the snitch. Harry's eyes drifted over toward the scoreboard. But they didn't get there before two of the Tornadoes chasers flew into him. They hugged him tightly, he felt lips on his cheeks. The keeper flew in and nearly knocked him off of his broom. He heard Dickerson announce over the din of the crowd.
"Potter has the snitch! The match is over. The Tutshill Tornadoes have upset the Holyhead Harpies 190-170! The Tutshill Tornadoes have won the league cup!" One of the beaters and the other chaser swarmed him. He couldn't make out what they were screaming. But it sounded a lot like disbelief that they'd actually won.
Felicity was the last player to arrive at the celebration, after conforming the win with one of the officials. She flew directly toward him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him far too deeply. Harry laughed and disentangled himself from her.
The team laughed around them as they lined up to shake hands with the Harpies. Ginny didn't look at him as he shook her hand. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought she was crying. He didn't have time to comment further on it though. The Harpies left the pitch as the league trophy came out to be presented to Felicity. Harry watched the ceremony out of the corner of his eye as an official approached him.
"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," the official said. He offered the golden snitch to Harry. "I figured you'd want this."
"Thanks," he said, taking it into his hand and just admiring it. The official flew away and he pocketed it. Harry turned back to the ceremony and watched Felicity Hillard hoist the league cup over her head. After a moment the beater flew directly to him and offered the cup. He took it, and lifted it high over his head. He could think of nothing better to do than stare in awe at the cup above his head as flashbulbs lit the stadium.
It had been the happiest moment of his life. Better than beating Voldemort, as insane as that sounded. He'd set out with a goal at the start of the season. And while he thought that goal was absurdly high, he'd still managed to accomplish it. Even now, as he flew for England attempting to beat Canada, he could recall the feeling of hoisting the league cup above his head. His championship ring resided in a case on his dresser, next to the snitch from that game.
After the match things changed so quickly he could barely formulate the events in his head. The team had partied the night away at a Tutshill establishment. To this day Harry wasn't sure he'd ever had so many drinks bought for him. There was no sign of Ginny when he got home around eight in the morning. But he barely took notice and simply passed out on their bed.
She wasn't home when he woke in the early evening either. Which was disappointing. He'd really wanted to go out for dinner and enjoy the start of the offseason.
Of course now, in hindsight, he realized how silly that thought had been. He hadn't known just what was expected of the league champions then. And it all simply compounded when, just three days after the championship game, he was voted the league most valuable player. He still had the trophy for that, too. However it was in a cabinet somewhere, collecting dust. He'd never displayed it in either of his homes.
Harry couldn't help but wonder why as he weaved through the Canadian chasers. He wasn't paying much attention to the game, which probably wasn't good. But the last time he checked they'd been up by eighty points, so he wasn't particularly worried. It also helped that Sinclair seemed content to simply follow him around.
But he'd never shown the trophy because he'd known it had been one of Ginny's main goals. He'd never even thought about winning it until some of the reporters asked about his chances near the end of the year. It was a special feeling to win it.
It was after the award ceremony that he finally noticed something was wrong. Looking back, he realized Ginny was jealous of him. He'd taken all the glory she'd expected to have for herself. He hadn't meant to, but somehow everything she'd wanted for years had turned into his nearly on a whim. The physical aspect of their marriage even started to deteriorate. Harry blamed himself first, simply because of how busy his schedule became. But he knew that wasn't entirely the case.
Harry hated it. But he didn't have nearly enough time to focus on it. Every one of his days started with a floo call from Daphne. She'd tell him where he needed to be, for what sponsor, and when. For the first three weeks of the off season he barely even spoke to his wife. He should have been better. They both should have been better. But they let the void grow. He hated himself for not noticing just how much it grew until it was far, far too late.
But looking back he wasn't sure if there was really anything he could have done. He'd certainly tried, near the end. But his efforts had been in vain. And he knew he had to do all the interviews and engagements and quidditch related activities. He'd debated inviting Ginny along, but something had told him that would be a seriously bad idea. And, although he'd hate to admit it. He'd had fun.
A novel concept for him. Fun during interviews? But they'd been a blast. He paused his train of thought for a moment to look for the snitch. He saw nothing resembled it, and noted that Sinclair was still simply following him. So he went back to daydreaming about his post-championship life.
There had been one interview in particular that had been really a blast. He was asked to go on broom testing show and give a short interview before racing around a track. Daphne assured him it would be a puff piece and great fun. So naturally he agreed. He remembered the interview fondly. It had only been a few days after the championship match.
Harry arrived at the studio a bit early. He was escorted into the crowd and he simply watched the three presenters start their show. He'd done some rehearsing with the main presenter, and interviewer earlier in the day. Harry just watched as they showed videos on magic screens of the presenters testing various forms of magical travel. He was amused by their antics, and couldn't help but figure they'd be fun to go to the pub with. Eventually, though, he heard the lead presenter, Jeremy Clarkson, began the start of the interview.
"Now, a few weeks ago on the show," Jeremy Clarkson said, while moving toward the center of the studio. "We had a new quidditch star, the young and very quick Titus Button, set the fastest time on our quidditch player board. And we were literally inundated with," he paused for a moment. "A letter." The audience laughed as he now stood near the power lap time board.
"And we have that letter here," Richard Hammond said, holding up the piece of paper. "It's from a bloke in Holyhead who says he's sick of the Bats getting all the media coverage. And that he could out fly anyone on the Ballycastle team."
"And since the Bats lost to the Harpies in the semi-finals, he didn't have a chance to prove it onto the pitch. So he's decided to come to the greatest stage of all, our track, and prove it. Ladies and Gentlemen, Harry Potter!" Clarkson yelled. The studio was easily louder than the pitch at the finals. Harry walked up a small path, waving a bit, and sat on a couch across from Clarkson.
He waved a bit more at the crowd and quickly came upon the stage. Extending his hand, he gave Clarkson a firm shake while looking up at the tall presenter. He walked to the conjured chairs and kept waving to the audience before sitting.
Jeremy followed Harry down into his chair and waited for the audience to quite down. When they did, he decided to open the interview with a slightly awkward question.
"So what do I call you?" he asked.
"Harry works," he laughed.
"Really? But why, it's so plain. I mean you have The Boy Who Lived, Triwizard Champion, The Chosen One, the Slayer of Voldemort, Witch Weekly's third sexiest male quidditch player, the British and Irish League Most Valuable Player, Ginny Potter's husband, and now the World Champion Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes." Jeremy counted on his fingers as he spoke.
"That's a lot of titles," Harry laughed.
"And every one of them is better than Harry," Clarkson deadpanned.
"We'll have to agree to disagree on that," Harry said.
"Regardless, you're wrong," Clarkson said quickly. "Any of them would be better then 'Harry'. So, how's life at home?"
"It's pretty normal," Harry said.
"Really? Because if I beat my wife in the ultimate game, she'd be furious with me and probably try to kill me or I'd be sleeping on the couch for a month or so. Don't you agree ladies?" Clarkson looked around the room. Many of the women in the audience cheered. Harry laughed and shook his head a little bit.
"No. She's been great about it. It's just a game, you know. You win some and you lose some," Harry lied trying very hard to keep the smile on his face. Ginny had been far from great about it. She was furious at him. And she made no qualms about letting him know. She'd been so very close to her dream, after all, and Harry had quite literally stomped on it in front of her.
"Has she?" Clarkson asked. His eyebrows raised. "Some of the interviews she gave seem to suggest differently."
"Oh you know. We all let our emotions get the best of us after a match. I'm sure she didn't actually mean any of it," Harry defended his wife. Word of their relationship hadn't really spread, and he wasn't going to let it come out on a broom testing show. Of course, Daphne had assured him the interview would be mostly fluff.
"So," Clarkson said. "Let's talk about some of the brooms you've had in the past."
"Okay."
"Nimbus 2000?"
"Ya, that was the second broom I ever remember flying on, the first being the old Shooting Stars that everyone learned on with Madam Hooch. Professor McGonagall bought it for me when I made the Gryffindor house team as a first year.
"I found out later that actually my first broom was a shrunk down Nimbus 1001 my Godfather got for me on my first birthday. He placed a sticking charm on it so I couldn't fall off, and also charmed it so it couldn't go more than 4 feet off the ground, and only 5 or 7 miles an hour so someone could literally run along side it and keep an eye on me. I read in my Mum's journal that when she saw me riding on it she cursed my Dad, and forbid my godfather from coming over to see me for a month." The audience laughed at the end of the story.
"Really? So how did you do on the '1001?"
"Oh, according to my Dad's journal I was brilliant. He knew right away I was going to be a quidditch player. But then he also mentioned that he had a hard time sitting on a broom for about a month after that."
"Yes, I can imagine. What happened to the first '2000?"
"Well, it had a little accident. But it wasn't my fault," Harry commented.
"Professionals always have their excuses," Clarkson responded and looked around the room. "Do we want to hear what happened to Harry's Nimbus?" There was a loud 'yes' from the crowd. Harry shook his head.
"Well I fell off during a match with Hufflepuff at school, and it sort of made contact with the Whomping Willow. And the Whomping Willow smashed it to bits," there was an empathetic groan from the crowd followed by some laughter.
"Nice way to get rid of a broom if you ask me," Clarkson commented. "And after that you moved straight on to the best, with a Firebolt?"
"Yes. It was a gift from my godfather," Harry responded. "Another great broom."
"Still one of the best," Clarkson agreed. "But what happened to that one?"
"I lost it in one of the first battles of the war," Harry commented. Again, there was a collective groan from the crowd. "I bought another one after the war, though."
"And what do you fly now?" Clarkson asked.
"Well I've flown some other things, too. I had the good fortune of spending a great deal of time with Arthur and Molly Weasley during the summers and flying around on their Cleansweep Fives. They were a blast to fly!"
"Weasley? That's your wife's family then?"
"Yes it is. That's where I first met Ginny."
"But again, what do you fly now?"
"Well for pleasure still the Firebolt, but in games a Cleansweep Tornado Type 3," Harry said. The Tornadoes were one of the many teams that had a specific contract with a broom company. All members of the team flew the same broom. Cleansweep fixed it up every couple of years, too, to make sure it was always competitive.
"And which do you like more?"
"Well, they're different. The Firebolt is more about pure speed, the Tornado is way more maneuverable. For more of a thrill, I'd say the Firebolt," Harry admitted. Clarkson gave him a wry smile.
"What if there are some Cleansweep officials watching?"
"Well then the Tornado is the better broom by far," Harry commented with a quick smile, drawing some more laughter from the crowd.
"That's what I thought. Now," Clarkson said. Harry could sense that he was going to change the topic. "How does it feel to be part of the World Champions?"
"It's fantastic," Harry responded quickly. "Greatest feeling in the world."
"Really? After all you've done. You'd think that you know, beating the Dark Lord would probably be the greater feeling," Clarkson said. They'd rehearsed this a bit before the show.
"To be honest, Jeremy, that was more just relief. It wasn't something I ever really had a choice in. He wanted me dead, and I didn't want to die. When it was finally over, all I could really think about was moving on in my life," Harry explained. He'd given similar interviews before. Nothing he was saying was particularly knew. Daphne had advised him to stick with what he'd said in the past.
"And you did move on. Starting with being one of the youngest Aurors ever, but that didn't last," Clarkson stated. Harry just nodded.
"It was something I always wanted to do while I was in school. But with Voldemort gone, and most of the Death Eaters cleaned up, my heart just wasn't in it." He said.
"So you turned to quidditch?" Clarkson asked.
"More or less. Started playing some pickup games with guys at work. One of them called in a scout friend, not too long later I'm holding up a Tornadoes jersey on stage," Harry laughed. "It's been a whirlwind."
"And two years later, you're hoisting the league cup above your head. But how was it at the Tornadoes. At the start of the season former chaser Jason Williams made some rather disparaging comments about your chances."
"Yea. Jason tends to be a bit of a hot head," Harry said. "But we proved him wrong."
"Upset you didn't get to knock the Bats out yourself?" Clarkson asked.
"Not at all. Rather glad we didn't have to play them, to be honest. They're an incredible team." Harry admitted. "There's a reason they've had the top record in the league four of the last five years."
"Nothing to show for it title wise, though," Clarkson said.
"That happens," Harry commented. "They'll win one eventually."
"Not if you have anything to say about it."
"Hey, even I lose on occasion," Harry commented with a wry smile.
"Occasion being the key word. What, three times all last season?" Clarkson asked. It had been a modern British league record. Krum had been one better in the European leagues a few years earlier though.
"Three more than I'd have liked," Harry commented to laughter from the crowd.
"So, the World Cup is in Sweden in a couple of years. Are we going to see Harry Potter as the English seeker?" Clarkson asked. Daphne had discussed this with him, too. Apparently the preliminary selections were going to be taking place rather soon. He'd told her he'd be interested. But there were plenty of other seekers with much more experience than him, and the roster was very political. Daphne told him he'd likely be an alternate, at best.
"I'd love to represent England in the World Cup," he said. The crowd cheered rather loudly again. Apparently they'd love to see him representing England. That certainly was a confidence boost. "But I haven't been approached about it yet or anything. My agent told me it's pretty political."
"They'd be crazy not to have you on. For one, you're Harry Potter, for two, you just put in the best statistical year from a Seeker we've seen in decades," Clarkson complimented him.
"Well, maybe you should write them a note telling them that," Harry said with a smirk. Clarkson looked at him for a moment.
"You know what maybe I will," he joked. "I do only ever have good ideas."
"I'm sure," Harry commented dryly to more laughter.
"Well, now let's get onto why you're actually here. I hear you had an interesting connection with our moderately priced broom."
"I did," Harry said. "The Nimbus 2000 was the first broom I ever owned. Great broom. It was a treat to fly on one again."
"Well, let's get on to why you're really here then, your lap. How was it?"
"It was really fun," Harry admitted. "The Stig gave me some great advice. I've never actually gone around a track before, so that was interesting. I think I picked it up fairly quickly."
"How do you think you did?" Clarkson asked. Harry shrugged.
"I'd like to be near the top. But it was really windy, and raining rather hard," Harry admitted.
"You professionals, always with the excuses!" he scoffed. "Who wants to see the lap?" There was general yelling from the crowd before the lap appeared on the screens around the studio.
"And you're off," Clarkson narrated. "Looks like it really is raining out there today. Come up on the first corner. Oh wind got you a bit there but you kept it on line. Cruising through to Chicago now. Very tidy. Nice line out."
"That was actually luck," Harry laughed. "Gust of wind pushed me right back onto where I needed to be."
"Well whatever works. Through the hammerhead now. Very nice. Were you pushing it as hard as you could through the follow through?"
"Yea," Harry said. "And through that little gap after too, nearly shot off the course trying to steer to compensate for the wind."
"Yes we see that. Around through the second to last corner there. Very flamboyant line. Looks quick, even with the rain. Around Gambon there, perfect! And across the line. So. How do you think you did?" Clarkson asked, holding a small piece of paper and pen in his hand.
"Well I'd like to be the fastest, but I'm not sure if I can top Button, but a 1.32.3 is really fast. Where's the fastest wet laps?" He asked.
"Gwenog Jones and Viktor Krum, right there, with a 1:34:9," Clarkson pointed to the two names on the power lap board.
"Well with them would be great company," Harry said. Clarkson nodded.
"Alright, well, you did it in one minute. Thirty," Clarkson paused, Harry leaned forward, generally interested in his time. "two." He paused once more to general 'oohs'. Harry couldn't help but lean forward even more. "Point one!" The crowd exploded.
"Wow," Harry said leaning back in the chair.
"Wow is right. The fastest lap we've ever had!" Clarkson stood and slapped the time above every other quidditch star on the board. "The Stig did say, too, that it was by far the best lap he'd ever seen. Simply outstanding. Ladies and Gentlemen, Harry Potter!" Clarkson yelled. Harry stood and waved to the crowd, shook Jeremy's hand, and acknowledged the crowd again.
It had been such a simply interview. Something so very easy and fun. Yet because it was him, Ginny hated it. It was the life she wanted. But the star on the losing team seldom got so lucky. A year later, after the divorce, Ginny would appear on the same show, but like many others, she wouldn't be able to beat his time.
He came back to reality as Sinclair shot past his left side. He blinked for a moment. He'd been going over the Top Broom track in his head. And he immediately knew that was a mistake. He'd allowed himself to get distracted, and Sinclair had benefited. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the golden ball she was chasing.
Harry spun his broom after her. He was flying the broom he, Titus, and Jason had all received for the World Cup, the Nimbus R3500 'Bat'. It was a tweaked version of the broom they used in games. They'd marketed it to the three Bats on the national team as the ultimate in speed and maneuverability. And they hadn't been wrong. But Harry couldn't help but wonder who would top it by the time the next season started.
Of course wondering lost him more ground on Sinclair. But that didn't surprise him. She was credited as one of the quickest seekers alive. He knew he'd have to outmaneuver her, and not beat her on straight up speed. And that would only matter if she screwed up.
He pressed on, doing everything in his power to keep up with the small, lithe, Canadian seeker. But, by the time he caught up with her, she was already reaching for the golden ball. He positioned himself to foul her, figuring that was his last defense. But he saw the scoreboard out of the side of his eye. England 310 Canada 100. He noticed an official about to blow the whistle if he grabbed Sinclair's broom. But the catch didn't matter, so he peeled off of the path to the snitch and waited a few moments for Sinclair to catch the golden ball. Which she did. He flew up to her as the official approached to confirm the catch and gave her a few praising words before flying off. Titus joined him after a moment.
"I assume that wasn't intentional, but thanks. She'll be all happy tonight for beating Harry Potter to the snitch," Titus teased.
"I fucked up," Harry admitted. The best he could say was that he hadn't lost. But still, not catching the snitch often made him feel as if he had anyway.
"Shit happens. She's talented," Titus said, trying to cheer him up. Harry just shrugged,
"So am I," he commented as he noticed Gwenog Jones flying over to him, looking furious.
"Potter, what the hell was that?" she asked. In the distance behind her he saw a furious Ginny.
"She out maneuvered me at the start of the chase and I couldn't catch up," Harry lied, hoping the Captain hadn't seen that he simply hadn't been paying attention. "I could have fouled her, but when I saw we were up by two ten I figured it'd be better to just have the match end." Gwenog stared at him. She knew that he was probably right, and that it didn't really matter because the team had still won. After a moment she just gave him a curt nod.
"Screw up again and you're out," she said before flying off toward the locker room. Harry laughed quietly and noticed Button smirking.
"Yea, screw up again Harry, and you're out. We will be too," he teased. Harry just shook his head, fighting off a smile, as he and the beater proceeded back to the lock room. He sat in the locker room with his teammates, waiting for them to finish changing. Eventually, Jason simply looked over at him and said.
"Hotel bar? Titus is going to go find Sophie."
"Sure," Harry responded.
"Good, you can tell me about winning it all with Tutshill. And how your marriage fell apart. And whether or not I can try to sleep with Ginny. I should have signed a one year deal," Jason joked.
"We'll get you a ring," Harry responded automatically. He chose to ignore the other comments as they left the locker room and walked back toward their hotel. "But it's not really an amusing ending."
It had all seemed to end in a rush. But looking back he could see that it had never really started. And, it probably wouldn't have been a rush had he not let himself be preoccupied with Quidditch. He often wondered if, had he stayed an Auror, their relationship wouldn't have fallen apart so quickly. But it wasn't something he wanted to focus on.
He knew Ginny wasn't the only one to blame, either. Yes, she stopped really talking to him for a while after the championship, but he'd stopped every trying to be her friend. He'd found himself too busy to pay too much attention to it. And that was entirely his fault. He hadn't noticed the rift was there before it was irreparable.
Harry also hadn't realized just how bad it had been when every time a picture of him made it into the papers he was accompanied by either his captain or his agent. It wasn't long before the rumors started. He denied them. Felicity denied them. And Daphne denied them. But it didn't matter. The media kept implying that he just had to be having an affair with one of the girls, as he spent more time with them than he did his own wife.
Soon, Ginny stopped coming home every night. Harry wasn't sure where she was. She became harder to contact on road trips, so he responded in kind. He ignored a couple floo calls and spent more time drinking and celebrating with his team than he probably should have.
In his third season, the defending champions started out incredibly slow. Their chaser line hadn't particularly improved in the offseason, so the weight of defending the title fell onto Felicity and Harry. And Harry was tired. They barely lost to Appleby, but only because Harry caught the snitch, before being stomped by Holyhead and Ballycastle in back to back games. Their 0-4 start was capped by a loss to Chudley as well.
It really didn't help that many reporters commented on how his play looked sluggish and out of sync. Like he probably had too many things going on outside of the pitch. And of course, that just resulted in a great deal of speculation on what those things could be. Naturally they weren't satisfied with the obvious answer, that his offseason had been too short and too busy.
Finally, a rumor started that he hadn't spoke to Ginny in months. Since the end of the previous statement. Harry wasn't sure who had spoken to which reporter with that bit of information, but the article had been far from flattering.
But it wasn't like he'd just given up. He and Ginny both tried. But they weren't around each other enough for it to really matter. They still had, on occasion, an amusing evening out, or a fun lunch with each other, but the brief attempts at acting a married couple always ended with the paparazzi. And they always asked questions about extra-marital activity, and as always the outings ended with both Harry and Ginny furious.
They would simply go home and argue. Ginny didn't understand how the reporters could keep pestering him about that if there wasn't truth. And it was one such night, after attempting to have dinner in Holyhead, where Harry received far too many angry glares from locals that they wound up in an argument back at home.
"Just tell me, Harry. They wouldn't keep bringing it up just to be annoying," Ginny said, taking a deep breath, as if bracing herself for the news.
"I'm not having an affair, Ginny. If they had any proof it would already be published," he commented, trying to remain level headed.
"Then why don't we have sex anymore?" she asked. It was the absolute last question Harry had expected.
"I didn't think you wanted to," he said dumbly. "Ever since the championship," he paused. It was the first time he'd mentioned it. He saw her jaw clench but she remained calm.
"Where you snogged the beater," she commented. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Oh come on, she shoved her tongue down my throat," he responded. Poor defense, he knew, but it was the truth.
"You didn't resist very hard," Ginny stated.
"I barely even realized it was happening! Are you really that upset about that?" He asked in disbelief. It had been months. "And it's not like I don't still want you, Ginny! We just haven't," he paused. He wasn't quite sure how to word it. "We just haven't been around. And it's always just seemed wrong."
"And you didn't even try," she responded, looking genuinely hurt.
"I." it was true, he hadn't. But he didn't know how to defend himself.
"See. And you can't even defend it." She shook her head.
"I didn't think you wanted me," Harry admitted. Then, after a brief pause he spoke words that had remained true since well before their wedding, despite everything that had happened. "I love you, Ginny." He saw look away for a moment.
"That's the problem, Harry. I don't want you anymore. And I don't love you," she said quietly. Harry felt his whole world come crashing down around him. For a moment, he thought the house was melting away. He could do little more than just stare at his wife.
"So that's it?" he asked once he finally managed to compose himself.
"Yes," she said, bluntly. "I've had my agent draw up divorce papers. He'll send them to your agent in the morning."
"How long," he started to ask, but Ginny interrupted him.
"That doesn't matter," Ginny said. Harry disagreed with her on that matter. But he didn't press. He didn't really want to talk about it. He walked over toward the fireplace, not quite sure what he was doing. But he felt like he needed to be out of that house as quickly as possible.
"Where are you going?" Ginny asked. Harry laughed a little bit.
"I don't know. But I'm not sure it matters," he said. He also wasn't sure that was any of her business at that point. He grabbed a handful of floo powder from near the fireplace, stepped in.
He stepped out at the Leaky Cauldron. He couldn't explain why he'd chosen that destination. He could have gone to Grimmauld Place, but he didn't particularly want to enter the dark, creepy house that night. He debated asking Hannah, who was working as the bartender that evening, for a room, but he decided he didn't want to be inside. Instead, he stepped into Muggle London.
It was strange, how mundane it all seemed. But his marriage was nothing. He loved Ginny, he knew he probably always would. He felt alone, empty and lost for the first time since his fifth year. He walked through the streets of London, seeing couples everywhere. It made him sick. They all had something he wanted, but would never acquire. Instead, he'd made a mistake.
But he couldn't admit that. He held out hope that he'd be able to fix things. That it couldn't be all over. He kept walking. Thinking the entire time that there had to be something he could do. Eventually, he realized that he needed advice. But he didn't know where to go. The Weasleys were out, they should hear it from Ginny first. He wondered about teammates, or coach Jacobs, but neither of those seemed like a viable option. He could only think of one other person, and she didn't seem like that good of a bet either, but she lived nearby.
He approached the small, two story duplex house. It was a tad late at night, and he hoped that she was home, or still awake. He rang the bell for the lower floor of the duplex and waited. After a few minutes the door opened.
"Harry? What the hell it's like one in the morning," Daphne Greengrass said from the doorway. Her hair was a mess and she wore a thin nightgown that had one strap hanging off of her shoulder.
"I didn't know where to go," he admitted. She raised an eyebrow.
"Your house would be a good bet. Hell, you don't even look drunk," Daphne responded, looking him up and down. "And you're all dressed up."
"I was out. I'm sober. And I didn't want to be at my house," he argued.
"Well you have two, and enough money for a hotel room."
"Can I come in?" He asked. After a moment she stepped away from the door and he stepped into her home. It was sparsely decorated with mostly Muggle furnishings.
"What's up, Harry. And why couldn't this wait until morning?" She asked with a yawn. "Oh and if you want coffee or tea or anything, make it yourself." She nodded toward the kitchen as she spoke. Harry walked into it. But simply sat at a stool at the small bar she had.
"Ginny wants a divorce," he said, not sure what else to do.
"I know," she said. Harry looked at her, looking rather confused.
"How did you know that?" he asked.
"Gary sent me over the papers yesterday," she said. "I have to tell you, I'm your agent. While I do have a degree in law, I'm not the one you want handling your divorce."
"I didn't even find out until tonight," he said dumbly. Daphne nodded a little and perched herself on the counter near him.
"I'm sorry," she said. There wasn't much else she could say. He didn't really know what to say either.
"What should I do?" he asked.
"Get a better lawyer than me," she responded.
"You've been great," he said, although he could tell she probably didn't need cheering up.
"Obviously. But I'm great at making you more money and taking part of it for myself. I have some friends that I can probably get to recommend a good divorce attorney for you."
"Okay, thank you, Daphne," he said.
"No problem. I may charge you for this, though," she teased. He just rolled his eyes.
"I'll take you to lunch next week," he deadpanned. She nodded a little bit.
"That works for me. Now is there a practical reason you came here that couldn't have waited for the sun, or is that all you needed?"
"I don't think so. I just didn't want to be alone," he admitted.
"Harry. I've only ever known you alone," she responded. He gave her a startled look. "I mean you've always been a loner. And you two never really did much together."
"We were always busy," Harry started to argue, but Daphne interrupted him.
"I'm not saying it was your fault, Harry. Just pointing out what I've seen since school," she explained. He paused for a moment, but nodded. She had a point. He usually was alone. Strange that he would really feel it now. Perhaps it was just guilt at the loss.
"You have a point," he responded. He couldn't help but look at Daphne perched on the counter. Which led to looking at the rather revealing nightgown. He tried to not be obvious "Never really thought of it before."
"Well think about it. Second year, fourth year, fifth year, even a bit in sixth year," she commented. Harry did think about those years for a moment. It was interesting, but it certainly didn't make him feel better.
"Thanks," he laughed hollowly. "That made me feel much better."
"I bet it does," she responded. "I really am sorry, though. When did things go bad?"
"I don't know. Probably as soon as we got married. I haven't done much with her in months, all we do is argue. I don't know. I don't really want to talk about it," he said, looking down at the counter mostly to take his gaze off his agent.
"It doesn't sound like you two were really that close," she commented. He paused for a moment, thinking carefully about her words, and what he should say.
"I thought we were," he paused. "I guess I was wrong."
"Must have been," Daphne commented. Harry glared at her for a moment. She just smiled weakly. "Sorry."
"It's fine," he commented. He knew he should get up and leave. The entire conversation was growing awkward. But leaving would again lead to being alone, and thinking about being alone, and he wanted no part of that either. After a few moments of awkward silence, Daphne finally spoke again.
"So you two haven't really been intimate?" she asked carefully.
"Not lately," Harry admitted, shaking his head and wondering just how much more awkward the conversation could get.
"Shame. But I'm tired, Harry," she said carefully. She slid off the counter and fell right into his lap on the stool. He tensed as her hazel eyes locked onto his. He froze. His entire body tensed and the next thing he knew Daphne was kissing him, very softly. Her body pressed against his as she deepened the kiss. After only a few moments she pulled away and whispered. "You may hate me for this. But I think you need it. So just this once, I'm going to walk to my bedroom. You can either leave, sleep on the couch, or join me." She slid off of his lap and walked into a separate room.
Harry sat there for a moment, stunned. He fought every instinct he had to follow after her. He didn't want to cheat on Ginny. He stood and started to leave, but paused near the door. Ginny had ended it. He didn't owe her anything at this point. She'd already filed for the divorce.
He turned around and walked as quietly as he could through the same door Daphne had. The bedroom was dark, but seemed to be very clean. The only thing he noticed out of place was a skimpy nightgown disregarded onto the floor. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it near the nightgown. After a moment he sat on the side of the bed and peeled off the rest of his clothing. He felt a soft pair of arms wrap around his chest, and delightfully warm skin press into his back.
"I'm glad you stayed," Daphne said, giving him a small kiss on the neck. He didn't respond, but rather shifted himself around and kissed her. After a moment he pressed her down onto the bed, pressing his body against hers as he kissed her once more.
Harry against her, instinct again controlling his actions. Daphne's hands ran down his back and between them. After a moment he felt himself slip inside of her. He moaned against her lips and simply let instinct take over.
Like Ginny, it was intensely physical. There was little emotion involved. But there also weren't any expectations. Daphne kept her arms around him and whispered quietly, egging him on. He loved it.
He collapsed against her when it was finally over. He wasn't sure what it had meant, but he didn't really care. That could wait until the morning. Instead, he simply fell asleep cuddling with a woman in his arms. Something he hadn't done in far too long. It made him realize just how much he'd missed it. But, at least for the night, he finally didn't feel alone.
Author's Note: I forgot to mention another thing that inspired me in writing this. Jane Leavy's biography of Sandy Koufax, Sandy Koufax: a Lefty's Legacy. If you're interested in baseball history, it's an exceptional book.
I realize there's a distinct lack of Luna in this chapter. Her scene got cut for a variety of reasons. But at the halfway point of the story Harry's marriage is pretty much over. Now it's a matter of building it back up with someone else. The next chapter focuses on his final season in Tutshill, and coping with being alone once again.
On a side note, it's rather hard to destroy a relationship that never really existed. The entire point I'd been attempting to portray is that neither of them is really at fault, they were just young, infatuated, and clueless. Eventually, they both realize it's over, and can accept that. It's also far too easy to put all of the onus on one of them, and I'm hoping it comes off that they both screwed up in their two years together.
A special note has to go out to rdg2000 for help with the 'Top Broom' segment. While writing Letters he approached me about it. I commented the bit I'd be interested in would be having Harry be a celebrity interview. That almost made it into Letters, but I saved it for here. He took it upon himself to write an incredible Top Broom bit, check it out if you get a chance.
That's all I have to say. Thanks for the reviews and support, I appreciate it all. PM me if you have questions or want a response.