Before I do anything: HI CONNOR! Yeah, I told one of my friends in my form that I sit next to in English about FanFiction and my new story, and I told him that I'd day hi to him here – he said that he'd keep re-reading the story just to get it up to 10,000 views (which, by the way I am now over! Whoo!).

Anyway, after that little greeting, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed; I have 117 followers and 96 people who have favourited! YOU'RE ALL AMAZING! I can't say how thankful I am!

I don't really need to mention anything, now, just that I am going on holiday on Saturday for a week, so I won't be updating then. This will be my last update until I return.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!


The next day, Harry received a strange owl from his dad and Remus that he didn't understand congratulating him on his and Ron's first prank of some sort – neither knew what it was about, when he told Sirius he just smiled and chuckled quietly.

Apparently, it took McGonagall a long while to 'bend' the No-First-Years-on-the-House-Team rule, because it was early October when a long brown parcel landed on the Gryffindor table in front of Harry.

"Wow..."Harry gaped. "Ron...I think that this is a...broom," he said the last bit quietly, so no-one could hear.

"Well open it then!"

Harry was about to tear away the brown paper when a letter attached to it caught his eye. Noticing his father's handwriting (so similar to his own) on it, he reached over and opened the letter first.

"Dear Harry," he read in a whisper to Ron.

"DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE! It's your new broom; I'm sorry it took so long, but Dumbledore was rather keen to let you join the House Team. Your first practice is tonight at six, to be at the pitch by then, and your first match isn't until next month – Moony and I will be going to Hogwarts to watch, of course.

You were excellent the first time you flew, Harry, you're bound to be again – it's in your blood. Sirius was a beater, I was a Chaser; both on the House Team too, and your mother was a fair keeper – you'll be amazing. Contact me tonight through the mirrors at about nine, I'll be home from work by then, to tell me about your first practice.

Remember, I love you, and good luck,

~Dad,"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. Ron mouthed "Let's go," grabbed Harry's parcel and jogged out of the Great Hall. Harry took his broomstick from Ron and was about to go up the stair case towards the Common Room when Hayden appeared. He snatched the broomstick from Harry's hands.

"What's this?" he asked, smirking as he examined the brown paper.

"Oh, get lost, Hayden," Harry said, rolling his eyes and reaching over to take his broom back.

"I don't think so," Hayden's eyes widened when he realised what the parcel was. "This is a broomstick – no First-years – except me – are allowed a broom, Potter, you're going to be in trouble,"

"Is there a problem here, boys?" Sirius asked, popping up behind Hayden. Hayden jumped, shrieking like a little girl.

"Merlin's underpants!" he yelled, turning red. "What did you do that for – umm, sir," he added, suddenly noticing who he was talking to (Professor Black was not someone you wanted to anger, Hayden found that out the hard way).

"Oh, no reason, sorry for frightening you," Sirius apologized, but he didn't look sorry at all. "Is there a problem, here?" he repeated, winking slightly at Harry.

"Err – Potter's breaking school rules, Professor! He's got a broomstick! Mummy – umm I mean Mother promised me that I would be the first one to have one,"

"Ah, I believe that Mr Potter has been excused," Sirius smirked. "I see your father has sent it over – do you know what model it is yet?"

Harry shook his head, shooting a smug look at horror-struck Hayden. "No, sir, but I'm hoping that it's a Nimbus 2000,"

"I – want – your – broom," Hayden said slowly, his fists clenching and his face turning red, signs that he was going to throw a tantrum. "Give me your broom...now!"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, bro, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until you're old enough or Professor Dumbledore gives you special persmission,"

"But – but..." Hayden's face was the colour of the hangings around Harry's bed now. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived! You are worthless – a waste of space – a burden – you don't deserve the attention; I do! I am the better twin, the Chosen One, the supreme one and you WILL listen to me and you WILL give – me – that –BROOMSTICK!"

"Detention, Mr Evans," Sirius said before Hayden could continue ranting. At the phrases 'You are worthless' 'A waste of space' and 'A burden', he shuffled ever-so-slightly closer to his Godson and winced visibly. "And I will be owling your mother about your unacceptable behaviour,"

"You're not the boss of me – I can do whatever I want!" Hayden protested, sticking his nose into the air.

"Would you like a double detention, Mr Evans, because I can play that game all day if you want,"

"What I want is Harry's broomstick – give it to me!" Hayden reached out his hands like a baby who couldn't reach his sippy-cup towards his brother.

Harry shook his head, saying "Nope, sorry Hayden,"

Hayden lunged at Harry, grabbing the broomstick and knocking his brother to the floor. Ron yelled in protest and dived on top of Hayden, trying to pull him off. In panic, Zacharias also joined the mix.

With a lazy flick of his wand, however, Sirius pulled them all off each other and levitated them a few centimetres off the ground by their collars.

"I don't wish to take points off you, boys," Sirius claimed. "But your behaviour is unacceptable and I will not stand it, so I am afraid I must. Hayden, two weeks detention with me along with twenty points off Hufflepuff, Zacharias, you can join him in detention for tonight with ten points off, Ron and Harry, five points off each of you, as you two barely did anything. Don't let me catch you lot arguing again today, or the consequences will be much more severe,"

He flicked his wand again and they were set on their feet. The Hufflepuffs wasted no time in scurrying away down to the dungeons where they had Potions, muttering about how their parents would do something oh-so-terrible. Harry and Ron turned to Sirius.

"I see you go your broom then, Harry," Sirius grinned. Harry nodded, trying to fix the wrapping that Hayden had tried to pull off so he couldn't see what model it was – he wanted to be surprised.

"Well then, I'm sure you two would like to unwrap it and be on time for your first lesson – I'll see you both later," Sirius waved merrily before making his way up to the Astronomy Tower, whistling 'Mary had a Little Lamb'.

"Hayden will never change," Harry sighed, desperately trying not to look at his broom (the wrapping was almost fallen off completely) and jogging up the stairs, Ron at his heels. They reached their dormitory and put the broom on the bed.

Harry slowly pulled the paper away – so slowly that Ron decided to hum a dramatic tune to go with it. Harry shot him an amused glance and tore away the last of the paper.

"Yes!"

Harry stared in awe at his brand-new, sleek, Nimbus 2000.

"Bloody hell..." agreed Ron taking a step closer to the bed. "A Nimbus 2000...Harry, will your dad adopt me – please!"

"You're practically family anyway, Ron," Harry replied, running his hands along the smooth wood of his handle. "I think I'm in love..." he added dreamily.

They admired the broom for a little while longer, so caught up in their own little worlds that they only realised Charms started soon with only two minutes to spare.

For Harry, the day passed only too slow. When dinner finally rolled around, nearly as quickly as a tortoise, he wolfed his shepherd pie down, muttered to Ron he was going to practice, and running off to collect his broomstick.

Admittedly, Harry had never been on the Quidditch pitch before. It was the size of a football pitch, with three fifty-foot high posts that looked like bubble-blowers at each end. Harry grinned, mounted his brand new broom and kicked off from the ground for the first time in his short life.

One word: BRILLIANT!

Harry soared up and down the pitch, as fast as he could, the wind whipping his face. Harry let out a laughed and tilted his broom up, flying higher than the posts. When he reached about seventy feet, he had a quick look at the spectacular scenery around him, and dipped down into a dive. If you hadn't seen the broomstick that he was sat on, it would have looked like Harry was falling, at the speed he was going. When he was a foot away from the ground, though, he pulled up just so his toes skimmed the grass.

He did this a few times when a loud, Scottish voice shouted: "Potter! Come down here!"

Harry landed gracefully on the ground in front of Wood, grinning madly and trying to flatten his windswept hair.

"McGonagall was right, Potter," Wood commented, bending down to open the large case he had brought out. "You are a natural. I'm assuming you know the rules of Quidditch?"

Harry nodded looking at the familiar reddish ball the Fifth-Year was now holding.

"Alright, I'll recap them anyway. This is the Quaffle; on each team, there are three Chasers who take the Quaffle and try to score points by throwing them through the other team's hoops. The Keeper – I'm Gryffindor's – defends the hoops,"

Harry nodded, already knowing the rules.

"Ah, now here's the hard part," Wood muttered, bending over the case again. "You might want to take this,"

He handed Harry a short black bat – a beater's bat. Wood took a chain off one of the quivering jet black balls (there was two) and stood back as it flew into the air, zigzagging around the pitch before shooting straight at Harry's face.

Harry held up the bat and whacked it, stopping it from doing his nose in.

"Not bad," Wood said, nodding approvingly. "You'd make a pretty good Beater,"

Harry shrugged, passing him the bat back.

"That was a bludger. There are two, and their job is to try to unseat as many people as they can. There are also two Beaters on each team, who defend their team players while trying to get the other team,"

"The Weasley twins are the Beaters for Gryffindor, right?"

Wood nodded, smiling at his annoying yet brilliant Beaters. "That's right – they're like human bludgers themselves. You don't have to worry about those, though, Potter. The only thing you should be concentrating on is the Golden Snitch,"

Wood took the final ball from the case. It was a round ball about the size of a walnut that shone an even brighter gold in the setting sun.

"I like this," Harry grinned, reaching over to take it.

"Ah, ah, ah, Harry," said Wood, shaking his head and putting the Snitch away. "You can't touch it I'm afraid," he held up his gloved hands. "Snitches have flesh memories, therefore the first person to touch it with their bare hand must be the Seeker,"

Harry nodded, slightly disappointed.

Wood continued. "As I was saying, you only need to concentrate on catching this. When you do, you'll win our team 150 points, as well as end the match – anyway, why don't we get on to actually practicing!"

Harry agreed enthusiastically.

Wood sent Harry into the air, and began pelting golf-balls in all different directions at him. No matter how quickly or how many directions Wood threw them in, Harry caught every single one.

"I think that's enough for today," Wood panted, wiping sweat off his forehead and rubbing his sore arms from throwing so many things. "Next practice is Saturday, this time with the rest of the team,"

After Harry had told Ron what had happened, and admired his broom a little more (or to be precise, drooled over it), Harry went up to his dorm, grabbed his mirror and Invisibility Cloak, and left the Gryffindor Tower. He crept silently toward the classroom he usually used the mirror in (he had to go somewhere private so his dorm-mates would never know about the mirror).

"James Potter," he said, making sure that the door was firmly closed first. His reflection stared at him plainly back, then the surface rippled and his reflection was replaced with his tired-looking father.

"Hey, dad!" Harry grinned happily. "Thanks so much for the broom!"

James grinned, all of his weariness disappearing. "No problem, son – how did Hayden react?"

"Oh," Harry rolled his eyes. "Just in the same old Hayden way – a tantrum,"

James nodded. "That was the one thing I wasn't looking forward to hearing about – enough about your brother, though, how was your first practise?"

"Oh, it was great!" Harry gushed. "It felt so natural and...unbelievable when I was up in the air! Wood recapped the rules then he began throwing some golf-balls into the air for me to catch – and I got them all!"

James laughed, shaking his head at his son. "You must be pretty excited to be talking so fast with very little breaths!"

Harry nodded, grinning. "Flying adrenalines' you,"

James laughed again. "Oh yeah – I heard that you and Ron played a little...prank, a few weeks ago,"

Harry looked utterly confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when Ron threw some sausages at a certain Badger?"

Harry blushed slightly. "How did you find out about that – am I in trouble?"

James snorted. "No! Sirius saw it all unfold, then he told me and Moony. We're all pretty proud of you, being able to escape with only Paddy seeing you,"

"Oh..." Harry said, shrugging. "Ron thought of it..."

James rolled his eyes. "Alright, son..."

The pair nattered until about half-nine, when Harry decided to go back to the Common Room before anyone got suspicious. He bidded his dad goodnight, threw the cloak back on and quietly left the classroom.


I was wondering whether to leave it there or not, but I decided to because what I had planned to include did not have anything similar to cannon about it.

As always, please review (even if you do not have an account) and tell me what you think! I enjoy finding out, and it helps me. I also try to reply to all of your reviews.

Goodbye for now, I probably won't be updating for over a week,

(BYE CONNOR!...if you're even reading, that is...)

~Kiera~

P.S: Lily will be in the next chapter...something to tease you with 3:D