Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
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Fred and George had after a lot of trouble managed to get to their seats inside one of the topmost boxes in the tribune. Neville was already waiting for them there along with his grandmother.
"Hi, Neville," they greeted him and plopped down on their seats as their father and younger siblings followed inside the box in which they were seated in.
"Hi. Kind of him to send us these tickets, right?" Neville said.
"Yeah. Where is he, anyway? He wouldn't send us tickets and not come himself," George said.
"Who he?" asked Ron and leaned out over the railings as he studied the side of the blue clam-like box they were sitting in.
"Harry. He wrote in the letter that he got some, but didn't need all of them himself," Fred said nonchalantly.
"Harry? Harry Potter? You got these tickets from him?" Ron spat, his face slowly turning red.
"What's so wrong with that?" Ginny asked and kicked his shin. "Allow them to think for themselves. Not everyone is as stupid as you and the rest of Hogwarts."
"Good one, sis!" the twins chorused, receiving a grin from Neville.
At that point a big man with dark hair and walrus moustache followed by a thin, horse-faced blonde woman and a blonde boy who looked like a far thinner, blonde version of his father. They sat down on the other end of the box and started talking to each other without sparing the Weasleys a single glance.
"I bet Parkin's going to get the snitch first," Ron said as he played with his red and white scarf. "Anyone? Fred? George?"
"Yeah, probably. Since he lost against Brauner in the World Cup," Fred said ironically.
"Besides, Australia almost managed to get to the finals," George added.
Ron frowned. "But they have changed seeker after that. Chan quit, remember?"
"Then who's the new one?" asked Ginny.
"How – " George was interrupted by a loud voice, probably amplified by Sonorus.
"Welcome to the first match between Australia and England in group D of the Commonwealth of Nations Cup 1995!" the voice called, and the stadium was filled with noise. Fred and George joined in and waved their flags eagerly.
Most of the tribune had greens and gold because of the Australian supporters, but there were areas of red and white as well, but not nearly as big.
"Now, please welcome the national team of England!" Drums started playing somewhere on the other side of the stadium, and blurs of red and white shot out of the tunnel at ground level. "Frisby! Choudry! Whitey! Flitney! Hawksworth! Vosper, and Parkin!" shouted the speaker as the seven players started flying in a circle.
Fred jumped up and down, waving his scarf while George howled and Ron whistled.
"Go England!" shouted Ron.
"Go Australia!" came a voice from behind, and Fred turned around to see four boys about Ron's age sitting on the row behind them, waving green and gold scarves.
"And now for the national team of Australia!" shouted the speaker as the noise increased on the stadium. Seven gold and green figures appeared from the same tunnel and formed an arrow, much like a flock of birds would fly when migrating.
"Emerson! Robinson! Whalan! Kuyani! Quigley! Love! Aaaaand Potter!"
For a moment George thought he was dreaming until Fred nudged him in the ribs. "Ouch!"
"He's there! He's there!" he exclaimed and pointed at one of the players with messy black hair and glasses on the left tip of the formation. "That's Harry! He's playing!"
"Why is he playing? And for Australia of all things?" Fred asked, still slightly taken by the discovery.
"Harry! Harry! Harry!" shouted the boys behind him, jumping up and down like maniacs.
Ron stared at Harry as he stopped to wait for the balls to be released. First, the Snitch left, then the Bludgers, and lastly, the Quaffle.
"The match has begun, and Kuyani takes the Quaffle, avoids the Bludger there by an inch, passes to Whalan – good attempt of a tackle there by Vosper, but Whalan is not that easy to break, mister!" shouted the speaker.
"Look at Harry!" cried Ginny as the speck representing Harry far up was diving in a horrible speed with the red and white figure of Parkin tailing him.
"Oh hell! Has he seen it already?" Ron commented darkly.
"Potter's diving, Potter's diving! Has he seen the Snitch, or is it only one of his famous tricks? Parkin follows closely – this goes fast, people!"
George was sure they were going to crash, and the family on the bench beside them apparently thought the same, because the boy was shouting, and the woman was pale.
"He's not going to make it..." murmured Fred as the two seekers closed in on the ground.
Just when George thought Harry would crash, he pulled out. Amazingly he managed to pull out in that speed so close to the ground! A thud sounded as Parkin hit the ground, and a moan was barely audible from the English fans while the Aussies cheered enthusiastically.
"No! Potter has tricked Parkin! Fourteen years old Harry Potter tricks out the experienced Parkin on his first match! Unbelievable, this boy! Mr. Weber has really hit the spot this time!" shouted the speaker.
"Not very neutral, that speaker, is he?" Ron grumbled. "Aren't commentators supposed to be neutral?"
"Who cares!" Fred shouted, "That was amazing! Like Krum last year!"
"Only this is Harry!" George filled in.
Parkin appeared to be out, because he was still not moving on the ground, and the referee moved over to review him. Harry continued circling the pitch as a couple of minutes passed, and finally Parkin was moving. Slowly and unsteadily he got up and picked up his broom.
"- and Robinson scores! Hundred and thirty to twenty for Australia! Choudry tries a Bludger at Emerson, but Quigley's got it! And now Parkin is moving! He's up!"
"Go on Parkin!" shouted Ron as the seeker passed their box on his way up to Harry. "Get that bloody snitch!"
"Language, Ron," scolded his father.
Harry was already on the move again, zooming past them so a gust of wind hit them tightly followed by a second as Parkin passed for the second time. A black ball hurled towards Harry and forced him to roll below his broom and up on the other side to avoid being hit in the head, and then suddenly he angled straight upwards so Parkin flew a few hundred feet straight forward before he realized Harry was gone. At that point it was too late, and he once again managed to crash, this time into a pillar, and then fell to the ground.
"Can't he watch where he's flying?" Ron cried, sounding annoyed. "Get up!"
Parkin did just that, but only after the referee revived him, and with blood smeared over his face. This time Harry allowed him to recover a little before he set off, though being the target of most of the Bludgers sent from the English beaters. Gabriel and Ryan did their job well to protect him, but sometimes only Harry's observant eyes were the only thing that saved him.
This time George was sure he had caught a glimpse of gold twenty feet or so ahead of Harry.
"He's seen it! I've seen it! There's the Snitch!" he shouted.
"Where?" asked Ginny, searching the pitch.
"In front of Harry! There!" George pointed.
"I see it! Go, Harry!" urged Fred.
Parkin was still a few feet behind, but slowly catching up with Harry, who then increased the speed even more, pushing his broom to its limit. The distance between them increased, but then suddenly a Bludger appeared from his right, and Harry was forced to dip slightly to avoid it. They were right in front of the railings of one of the mid-levels when the Snitch zoomed off, and Harry lost sight of it because he looked around confused for a moment and barely managed to dive to avoid crashing. Parkin, who had been too focused on catching Harry, crashed for the third time, and Ron moaned.
"He's just as bad as Lynch!" he exclaimed.
"Don't say that!" said Ginny very Mrs. Weasley-like. "At least Lynch had enough focus on his surroundings to pull out sometimes!"
But then Harry had spotted the ball again, for he barely slowed down before he set off again. This time the big screens placed on the stadiums showed the snitch too, and the crowd was deafening. Fred leaned over the railings to see Harry race along the tribune right above them in order to catch the ball.
Parkin was up again, thanks to the reviving spell, though still dizzy and bloodied, he followed Harry, taking a shortcut and ending up neck and neck with him.
Beside them Neville had stood and was jumping and shouting: "Get it Harry! Get it!"
Harry had his arm outstretched. It was not as long as Parkin's, so he needed a few more inches. His broom increased its speed just slightly, giving him the foot or so, and more, allowing his hand to close around the ball.
"Yeah!" Fred and George shouted and started cheering along with the Australian audience. "Go Harry!"
"Harry! Harry! Harry! Harry!" the crowd chanted, and Fred, George and Neville joined in, soon followed by Ginny.
Ron slumped back in his chair, looking sour. "Show-off," he muttered. No one cared about that.
"Potter's got the Snitch!" shouted the speaker, "Australia wins four hundred and fifty to thirty!"
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Harry floated downwards, feeling awed by the response from the audience. Hugo almost crashed into him when he hugged him and shouted in happiness.
"Yeah!" His strong hands managed to shake him pretty well and then squish him before he was finally allowed to breathe. "That was amazing, Harry!"
Harry blushed and lowered his gaze shyly. "Thanks. I only did my job."
"Yeah, but in a brilliant way, Ryan filled in as he and Gabriel approached them and landed.
"Thanks for saving my ass out there, guys," Harry said with a smile.
"Like you said; we only did our job so that you could finish this off for us," Gabriel said.
"I'm sure Parkin got hell from you!" Ryan smacked his back so Harry almost stumbled.
After a shower and changing Harry prepared to leave the stadium, but found not only the Dursleys in the entrance hall, but also the Weasleys. He aimed for the Dursleys first, and was greeted with a hug from aunt Petunia.
"That was amazing, dear! You played amazingly!"
"Thanks, aunt Petunia. I'm glad you could come and watch," Harry replied with a small smile.
"Of course! We wouldn't miss it for the world. Our nephew is an international Quidditch player," uncle Vernon said, sounding just as proud as he was when bragging about Dudley's boxing matches.
Harry blushed heavily. "Um... thanks, I guess."
Then he suddenly felt two hands on his shoulders. "Harry, why didn't you tell us?" asked the mocking mortified voice of Fred.
Harry turned and looked at the grinning twins. "Because I didn't want anyone to take me back there. Well, now I am an Australian citizen, and they can't do a damn thing."
"What happened to your voice?" asked George.
"And your accent?" added Fred.
"And your body?"
"What happened to little, scrawny Harry we remember from Hogwarts?"
Harry chuckled. "He's gone. I'm not returning."
"Well... great game anyway. Always knew you could go professional if you wanted to," Fred said.
"Though not for Australia," George continued.
"You can thank yourself, Ron, for that Australia got this amazing seeker rather than England!" Fred called to Ron, who merely huffed and crossed his arms angrily.
Mr. Weasley promptly ignored his youngest son and walked towards Harry with a wondrous, though critical expression. "Hello. I believe we haven't met yet, Mr. Potter. I'm Arthur Weasley," he said and stretched out his hand.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied and shook his hand gently.
Ginny was slowly approaching too, looking curiously at Harry. "Hi," she said carefully. "I'm Ginny. We met at King's Cross."
Harry smiled weakly and grabbed her outstretched hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Weasley. I'm Harry."
"Why did you leave?" she asked.
Harry hesitated, not quite sure if he should tell them. He didn't want them to think he was whiny, so he merely shrugged.
"Come on, son," uncle Vernon said and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Harry was cruelly treated while studying at Hogwarts, so when we heard we figured he deserved better, and moved here."
The explanation had both Ginny and Mr. Weasley gaping.
"What do a muggle like you know how he was treated at school?" Ron snorted.
It was not uncle Vernon who acted, but Dudley. Being just as tall as Ron he walked over and glared into his eyes. "You might remember who hexed him with the Sardine hex and locked him inside the Quidditch locker room for a whole weekend?" he asked challengingly, but with an angry expression.
"It was me. So? What are you going to do with that?" Ron replied, not even moving an inch, and simply ignoring his father's now angered look.
"Ron, I'd better watch it if I were you," warned Fred.
"Harry told us Dudley is regional champion in boxing – where they hit people on purpose," George said.
At that Ron guffawed. "And you think you are going to beat me up? A muggle?" He laughed even harder.
"Are you afraid of being beaten up by a muggle, Weasley?" Dudley asked and cracked his knuckles.
"As if a silly muggle can hurt me, a wizard," Ron snorted.
Dudley grabbed hold of Ron's shirt and threw him backwards so he landed with a thump on the floor more than ten feet away. Mr. Weasley hurried over to him and helped him up, but he did not look very worried. He looked rather angry.
"Just wait till your mother hears about this, Ronald! You are not allowed to call muggles silly, am I making myself clear?" he said sternly.
"Yes, dad," Ron said, his ears turning redder than his hair in embarrassment.
"Good. Let's go. Fred, George, Ginny, come with me." Mr. Weasley started to walk towards the exit. "Locking someone up for a whole weekend! Your mother is not going to be happy when she hears this. I guess Potter isn't the one you always said, huh, Ronald?"
"Bye, Harry," the twins said and trotted after their father and slumping brother with Ginny right behind, waving at Harry.
"Bye, guys."
"And tell us about the next match; we'll be there without ickle Ronniekins over there," George said.
"I will."
Harry barely managed to pass Leo before he was almost run down by Lionpaws shouting and screaming.
"Harry! I can't believe you didn't tell us!" cried Mark, one of the eight years.
"Why would you keep something like that a secret from your own house?" asked Tiarni.
Then everything drowned in the mass of voices until a loud whistle turned them dead silent. Marcus was standing on a table blowing his fingers, but lowered them as everyone turned towards him.
"Give him a break! He can't tell anything if you keep on shouting." He jumped down from the table and clapped Harry's shoulder. "Good game, mate."
"Thanks, Marcus," Harry replied with a small smile. "Anyway, I didn't tell anyone because Mr. Weber told me not to. He wanted the new seeker to be a surprise. Besides, it would have made me sound like an egocentric jerk."
"We heard the match over the radio. Genius Wronski Feints!" Jerry said. "I bet Whistlewind's trembling in fear for the next season."
Harry laughed. "Christensen is not that easily scared."
"Oh, you don't know about that."
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Dear Harry,
Again, thanks for the tickets to the match. It was awesome to watch. Anyway, the news has reached Britain that you are living in Australia. Dumbledore has ordered Aurors out to fetch you, so be prepared.
Not much is going on here. The third task is approaching, and Fred and George are contemplating on telling the true reason of why you left. They're tired of all the fake rumours, like "Harry is trying to get even more publicity" and so on. Especially Ron is telling everyone what a "show-off" you were at the match, but I think it's all bullshit. You were great, and Weasley don't know anything. He's just jealous because you are a talented player, and he's not. He got detention with Professor McGonagall out the year, she being the only one who believed what Mr. Weasley said. Fred and George said that the other teachers agree with Ron, believing you deserved the punishment. Professor McGonagall was furious when she heard Mr. Weasley's explanation of why you left.
How are things going in Australia? How is school? When is your next Quidditch match? I'd like to watch.
Neville.
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"What's going on in Britain?" Marcus asked from across the table and peered over the Telegraph.
"Ron Weasley got detention and Dumbledore has sent out aurors to get me," Harry said.
"But they can't do anything, right? You're an Australian citizen; he's got no control over you even if he's in the Wizengamot," Julian piped up.
"Like that's going to stop him," Harry muttered. "I'm surprised he hasn't come here to get me already."
"Don't worry, Harry. We'll stand beside you if they come here to take you. Besides, Headmistress Reaburn would never accept anyone taking one of her students like that. She might be strict, but she is fair," Jonathan said. "The connection to the floo network is heavily warded, as is the rest of the castle. No one with bad intentions can enter."
