Harry Potter and the Heir of Morgaine le Faye

by Sorcerer's Muse

A new Dark Lord, cunning and patient, begins to move. A family of heroes, loving, crying, living and dying, goes about their lives. Revenge by those thought wronged is sought. Danger seems everywhere. Amidst it all a plot conceived more than five millennial prior unfolds. A plan so insidious the Gods themselves seek to influence the outcome.

11. Chapter 11: Ghosts, Quidditch and Nora L

Harry Potter and the Heir of Morgaine Le Faye

Chapter 10: Ghosts, Quidditch and Nora Leander

---

The door crashed open and a streak of red flew across the yard.

As Harry turned down the tree-lined lane, soft feathers of impossibly large flakes drifted down from the leaden sky. The woods began to press in; closing around him as he traveled. The wind stirred the rapidly growing snowdrifts in eddies within the woods; hinting of the storm to come. Something, tickled at his senses and he hitched his bag higher; unconsciously lengthening his stride as he did. Just before the last bend in the lane the tickle manifested itself in the scent of cinnamon and fresh baked bread and he grinned eagerly with anticipation. The lane opened in front of him to an impossibly crooked house; surrounded by gardens and a low stone-wall. Smoke curled from the chimney and a gnome darted from near the gate to the house where it disappeared under the porch. Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. As the air escaped his chest, so too did all the poisons of life wash away. He opened his eyes just in time to see a hand rubbing at the frost on the window from inside the house; followed by a face peering out. An instant later the door crashed open and a streak of red flew across the snow-covered ground.

Ginny.

A second latter she leapt into his waiting arms and he caught her up. After a time he set her down but didn't slacken his arms from around her waist. "I've missed you," she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

"I missed you too," Harry replied.

She pushed back enough to look up at him. "You were brilliant against the Cajuns," she said, referring to his match two days previous. It had been his first start for the Hippogriffs; filling in for Dimitri.

"Thanks," Harry said. She leaned into him again and they just held each other. All the while the snow continued to fall around them. He wasn't sure how long they stood there, but after a time she shivered and burrowed into him tighter. It was then he realized she was only wearing a light jumper and jeans. "We should go in," he said.

She shook her head against his chest. "Not yet."

"You're freezing," he countered trying to pull away.

She slipped her arms into his cloak; pulling it so it was around both of them. "Don't want to share you yet," she said. Harry pushed back enough so he could look down into her upturned face. "Promise me I won't ever go six months without seeing you again," she whispered.

Startled by the intensity of her gaze he found himself unable to form words. A welling deep within him, as unstoppable as the rise of magma from below the earth, threatened his carefully constructed barriers. He blinked once when she unconsciously licked her lips and her breath hitched when his mouth moved near imperceptibly closer to hers. She whipped around with the slamming of the Burrow door. "HARRY!" Hermione squealed.

"Unca', Harwy!" Bill and Fleur's oldest, Charles Arthur, squealed.

Harry shook himself and caught the young boy up in his arms, lifting him high over his head. "How ya doing, Charlie?"

Charlie giggled with glee while Harry spun him around in circles. "I got a bwroom for my birfhday," he said happily.

"Is that so?" Harry asked. He continued to hold the boy over his head. "And who bought you that?"

"Unca', Ron."

"Now how do you suppose he got that one past Hermione?" Harry wondered out loud. He set the boy down and squatted down in front of him.

"Wha'?" Charlie asked.

Harry chuckled. "Nothing. Do you like flying?"

Charlie grinned from ear to ear. "I kin go all' round the Bwrrow wifhout falling," he said proudly.

Harry tussled his hair. "Now that is impressive."

"Unca' Ron says I'm gonna be keeper."

"Is that so?"

"But Aun' Ginny says I'm gonna seek."

"And what do you say?"

"I wanna make jokes wifh Unca' Fred and Unca' George."

"Oh?" Harry said. This was new. "Are Uncle Fred and George here?"

Charlie shook his head. "They're hiding."

"Hiding?" Harry asked.

Charlie giggled. "Mummy start' yellin at 'em, an' they lef'."

"Left?" Harry asked.

"She waf yellin' in Fwrench."

Harry chuckled. "They're not as thick as they look." He straightened and picked up his bag. "Should we go inside?"

Charlie took off running towards the back of the house. "I'm gonna fin' Percy," he called over his shoulder, referring to Ron and Hermione's oldest.

"Ok," Harry shouted back. He hitched his bag up on his shoulder and started up to the house. Once on the porch, he knocked on the door, poked his head in, and shouted, "Hellooooo, Weasleys!"

Within seconds, the kitchen was full of Weasleys of assorted sizes, shapes and ages. Only because of her condition, did Molly beat Hermione to him; crushing him in one of her famous hugs. Hermione was next, giving him a chaste peck on the lips before settling uncomfortably into a chair at the table. Despite her growing tummy, she had moved quickly enough to greet him. But now she simply appeared exhausted. Harry eyed her cautiously. The one letter from Ginny that had managed to catch up with him during the road trip had said she was definitely starting to show.

"What?" she demanded irritably. Harry shook his head. "Go on and say it, I'm fat, Harry."

He was saved from having to answer when Bill and Arthur greeted him with back pounding hugs. Fleur favored him with a kiss to each cheek. "Don't mind 'er, 'arry. Et is jus' de' 'ormones talking, non?" she said.

Hermione glared at her sister-in-law. "Says the veela," she muttered. Fleur simply waved her off. Hermione huffed and grated, "I hate it when you're right." She turned to Harry. "Ron should be here shortly," she said in a much more friendly tone. "He had some paperwork to clear up before starting the weekend.

"And Remus and Tonks will be here for dinner," Molly added. "You aren't hungry are you? I have some biscuits if you need something to tide you over."

Harry shook his head and put his hand on his stomach. "We ate just before the portkey left from the States. I don't think I could keep anything down."

"You always were a bit of a ninny when it came to portkeys," Ron said, stepping into the room. He bent down and gave Hermione a kiss. "Doing all right, Love?' he asked. She smiled and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Nice to see you too," Harry retorted. He held his hand out. Ron grabbed it and pulled him into a breath stopping, bear hug, lifting him clean off the floor. Harry flinched. Ron was a bit stronger than his mum. "Careful mate, ribs're still a bit sore," he hissed.

Ron set him back down. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "That Monroe is some kind of wicked with his bat."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Not many people can hit a bludger as hard as he can."

"You gonna be ready in time for the Magpies?" Bill asked.

Harry sat down on the bench next to Hermione. "It's fine," he answered. He then turned to Hermione. "How're you?"

"I'm a beached whale," Hermione muttered.

"That good, hun," Harry commented.

"I hope she comes early," Hermione said. Despite Molly's skepticism, Hermione insisted on referring to her and Ron's unborn child as a girl.

"Just as long as she doesn't come on Sunday," Ron said.

"You're going to be eating crow when that child arrives, and it's a boy," Molly said.

"It's going to be a girl," Hermione muttered. "And, she will come when she wants. And, you will be there Ronald Weasley; regardless of quidditch matches and who happens to be playing in them."

"If you say so dear," Molly said.

"Don't worry Ron," Harry said quickly, hoping to forestall any brewing argument between Hermione and Molly. He could tell Hermione was a bit around the twist with Molly's discounting of what the non-magic doctors had told her. "I figure even if Hermione goes into labor at the start of the match, it'll be at least three hours till the kid arrives. I really don't see much of an issue with you sticking around for the finish and then heading out."

"Harry!" both Molly and Hermione blurted together.

Harry ducked his head for cover as the two women started in on him. He waited a bit before he put a hand over each of their mouths, effectively silencing them. "I'm teasing," he said before giving each of them a kiss on the cheek. "Besides, you're what, barely more than three months in?" They both huffed, but he had successfully diverted their attention from Ron. He caught Ron's eye and his friend mouthed, "Thanks."

Molly turned to her countertops and began pulling out ingredients for dinner. Hermion, with Fleur's help, headed for the nursery to check on Philippe, her and Bill's youngest and Andrew, Ron and Hermione's youngest. Arthur clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder and bent down next to his ear. "Wish I'd thought of that years ago," he whispered.

"Trade secret," Harry replied.

"Whatever works," Arthur laughed.

"So, Harry," Bill said. He slid in next to him on the bench. Ron immediately sat down on his other side; preventing any escape. "What'da think of the new rules?"

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter what I think."

"Come on, Harry," Ron said. "They cost you the match against Montreal." Harry scowled. The Montreal Sasquatch, despite Harry catching the snitch four times, had handed the Hippogriffs their first loss in just over two years. Not only that, but the Sasquatchs' seeker had managed a catch of the snitch himself. The ten points Karin, Montpier had earned for his team hadn't been the difference in the match but they still twisted in Harry's gut. Four catches or not, Harry didn't like being beaten; even once. Not in practice, and certainly not in a match.

"Well, it was hardly Harry's fault," Bill said.

"Yeah, Mitts and Carnes need to pick it up," Ron agreed.

"Mitts and Carnes are fine," Harry growled. "We win and lose as a team. That's the whole point of the new rules."

"But they cost you the match," Bill protested.

"No they didn't," Harry snapped.

"Sure they did," Ron said. "They're both almost three goals per game below the league average."

"Heather's nineteen, and a rookie. And this is Carnes's first shot in the first division. Harry retorted angrily, "of course they're below the league average. "They both did really well last match."

"Sure, against the Mermaids," Bill scoffed.

"The Mermaids are better than you think," Harry said.

"They haven't won a match this year," Ron countered.

"That's because they're keeper's a joke," Harry said.

"Exactly," Ron replied. "Carnes and Mitts did fine against him. Of course they did. I could score on him."

Harry scowled. Ron had trapped him in his own argument. Unwilling to concede, he said, "I'll put my chasers up against any in the league."

"You're nutters," Bill guffawed.

"Yeah," Harry retorted.

"Yeah, Ron said.

"Fine, put your money where your mouth is," Harry said.

"What?" both Bill and Ron asked at the same time.

"Put your money where your mouth is," Harry said again. "A hundred galleons-" Molly fumbled the bowl in her hand but managed to keep from dropping it. Harry, Ron and Bill missed it. "-says both Carnes and Mitts are ahead of league average for goals scored by the end of the season. And, that Mitt's is at least a backup on the US World Cup team."

"The US Nationals," Ron blurted. "You're barmy."

"Mental," Bill agreed.

"Put up or shut up," Harry retorted. "Arthur, you'll keep the wagers for us?" Harry asked. He pulled his moneybag from his pocket and spilled the coins onto the table. After sweeping up the sickles and knuts, he said, "I'll have to go to Gringotts to fill out the balance."

Arthur eyed the pile of coins apprehensively but conjured a jar and swept Harry's money into it. "I suppose I don't mind acting as judge for this one," he said slowly. Harry looked expectantly at Ron and Bill. They eyed the jar and glanced anxiously at each other.

"You're serious," Ron said.

"Damn right I am," Harry said angrily. He wasn't sure why he was getting so angry, but he was.

Bill rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Erm… Harry, that's a bit more than a friendly wager there."

Harry blinked and then he blanched. The Weasleys were no longer poor. And both Bill and Ron earned a good living in their respective careers. But neither was rich; not by any stretch of the imagination. His anger melted; replaced with extreme embarrassment. "I… I'm.."

"How about five galleons," Ron quickly said pulling the money out of his pocket.

"Yeah, that sounds about right?" Bill said. He added his money to Ron's. "You in Harry?"

Harry looked nervously at them. "Guys, I'm really sorry."

Bill waved him off. "You in or not, Potter?"

"Come on, Potter," Ron egged him on. "Put your money where your mouth is."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, sure. Thanks, guys."

"Don't worry about it," they said together.

Arthur counted out ten galleons from the money Harry had given him and slid the rest back before adding Ron and Bill's wagers to the jar. "So the bet is, Carnes and Mitts are above league average for goals scored by the end of the season. And, Mitts makes the US Nationals; at least as a backup, right?"

"Sounds about right," Ron and Bill said. Harry nodded.

"All right then," Arthur said. "We'll just put this in a safe place." He tapped the jar with his wand and it disappeared from sight.

"You're not going to get in on it, dad?" Bill asked.

Arthur grinned at Harry and shook his head. "Nope. I know better than to bet against black."

"Correction, dear father," Fred said, poking his head in the door.

"You've learned not to bet at all," George said following his twin into the kitchen. He took a seat next to Ron.

"At least whilst, mum's within earshot," Fred corrected. "Hey ya, Harry," he added. Arthur's ears turned red, but he didn't rise to the bait.

"What's the bet?" George asked.

"Harry says the Hippogriffs' two new chasers, Carnes and Mitts, will finish the season above the league average in goals scored. And, that Mitts, will be at least a backup on the US Nationals during the World Cup," Ron said.

"Ron and I disagree," Bill added. "Five galleons to get in on it."

"Ah, Miss Mitts," Fred said wistfully.

"Such a nice girl," George mused.

"Sweet," Fred said.

"And a bit feisty," George added.

"And such nice…" Fred began.

"Curves," George supplied. "Ow!" he yelped when Mrs. Weasley smacked him on the back of the head.

"Teeth," Fred cackled at his twin's misfortune.

"Teeth?" Harry, Ron, Bill, Arthur and George all asked.

"Yes," Fred said. "I was going to say she has nice teeth; a lovely smile. Wouldn't you agree, mum?" He grinned up at her.

Molly whacked him on the back of the head too. "Nice try," she said. Harry and the others snickered.

"So how about it," Ron asked. "I've never known you two to back away from a wager."

"Only one we can't win," Fred replied, rubbing the back of his head.

"Still," George mused.

"What're the odds?" Fred wondered. "The goal average isn't…"

"Unreasonable," George supplied.

"Certainly not if teams decide that Harry catching the snitch four times a match is a bit much," Fred agreed.

"Right, they're likely to get tired of that sooner rather than later and maybe have their beaters focus on him a bit more," George said.

"Thereby freeing up some space for the lovely Miss Mitts and her counterpart," Fred postulated.

"Too bad Mrs. Carnes is married," George mused. "But the space should lead to a few more goals by her and Miss Mitts."

"True. And, true again, brother of mine," Fred agreed.

"That leaves…" George began.

"Miss Mitts making the roster of the US Nationals," Fred finished.

"An altogether different proposition," George concluded.

"Unlikely," Fred said.

"Improbable," George stated.

"A rather dodgy, suggestion from our business partner," Fred concluded. "One that leaves me thinking his mental state is a bit warped," he added.

"Yes, I agree. Quite impossible… And, quite likely," George said.

"We're in," they said together, plunking their money on the table.

"You're on," Harry said, adding ten more galleons to the pot. Molly tutted but didn't say anything else and Arthur waved his wand at the pile of coins, sending them to join the others already in the jar.

"So, Harry," Bill began, "any truth to the rumors of you and Miss Mitts?"

Harry sighed exasperatedly. "None."

"None?" Ron asked.

"None," Fred confirmed. "Though there may be some truth to the rumors of myself and the lovely Miss Mitts."

"You?" George yelped. The rest of the group gaped at Fred. "What could she possibly see in you that she didn't in me?" George asked.

"She obviously fell for my superior intellect," Fred said.

"You're serious," Ron asked.

"Yep," Fred said.

"What about Angelina?"

Fred scowled. "We're taking a break."

"And a break means you can go out with other girls?" Bill asked.

"If she can go out with other blokes, I can too," Fred retorted.

"What, go out with other blokes?" George sniped.

"Who'd she go out with?" Harry asked.

Fred shrugged. "Some ponce from the Ministry," he said irritably. "Are you ready for Nora, Harry?" he asked changing the subject.

Harry's face took on an almost feral grin. "More than ready," he said. And they were off again, discussing the rematch with the only seeker to have beaten Harry in nearly four years.

---

"Hey you," Harry said.

Ginny paused in her approach to the old hammock strung between two ancient oak trees in her mother's garden. Dinner, as usual, had been a raucous affair. And afterwards the family had retired to the living room to chat. Discussions had run late and when talk turned to quidditch, both Hermione and Fleur had left for home; taking their respective children with them. When her mother and father decide to retire for the night, Remus and Tonks took that as their cue to leave also. Ginny had watched, mostly silent, as the endless speculation about his upcoming match had gone on. She could see Harry growing tired of the conversation. And had been unsurprised when he had excused himself to go for a short walk. When he had not returned after half an hour, she had gone looking for him. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"You were too quiet to be anyone other than Fleur, and she's already left."

"You can tell who we are by how quiet we are?"

"That and you smell different than Fleur."

Suddenly self conscious, Ginny sniffed. "Do I stink?" she asked.

Harry laughed, "Hardly."

"So then what do I smell like?"

Harry caught her hand and tugged gently. "Like everything good… Sit with me?" he asked.

Ginny sat; perpendicular to him in the hammock, her back against his stomach with her feet still on the ground. His hand slipped around her waist and rested on her hip. She gave a slight push against the ground, setting the hammock to gently swinging back and forth. "Everything good?" she inquired.

"Yes," Harry said. In the darkness he could just make out the smile creasing her lips.

"I think I like that," she said.

"Good," Harry replied quietly.

They sat in silence for a time, gently rocking back and forth. A cloud drifted across the sky, temporarily blocking the moon before it moved on. A breeze whispered through the trees, blowing twigs and leaves across the ground. Ginny shivered slightly.

"We should go in," Harry said. He started to sit up.

Ginny pushed him back down and twisted around so she was lying on her side against him with her chin propped up on her fist on his chest. "Don't want to share you," she said softly.

Harry chuckled and brushed a lock of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. "I've heard that before," he said.

Ginny smiled and then laid her cheek against his chest. "No curfew tonight?"

"Nope. Tomorrow," Harry replied. "You sure you're not cold?"

Ginny snuggled in tighter. "I'm fine."

"All right then," Harry said. He let his fingers begin playing through her hair.

Ginny sighed. "I like that," she said.

"I missed you," Harry said.

"You told me that already," Ginny teased.

"Just making sure you know."

Ginny gave him a squeeze. "I missed you too, Harry." They fell silent again for a time before she cautiously asked, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Are… are you still getting that sick feeling in the air?"

Harry shifted under her and thought about it. "Yeah, occasionally, but not as bad as that one time. Why?"

"Just asking."

"Worried about me?" Harry teased.

"Yes," Ginny replied simply.

Harry paused for a moment in running his fingers through her hair before starting again. "I think I like that." Again it was quiet for a time before Harry said, "Gin."

"Yes, Harry?"

"I don't think I ever want to go two weeks without seeing you again."

"From six months to two weeks. We didn't always do so well with the first one, Harry."

"We did the best we could."

"Sometimes," Ginny said non-committaly.

It was a few minutes before Harry responded. "What if I promise to try harder this time?" he asked.

"I'd like that, Harry," she said, her smile evident in her voice. "I'll try harder too."

XX

Molly opened her eyes at the sound of the kitchen door opening and then softly closing. The past seven years of no children living in her home couldn't erase more than thirty with at least one in the house. She was just as in tune to their comings and goings as she had ever been. Curiosity getting the better of her, she climbed from the bed and moved to the window. She watched in silence for a time before whispering, "Arthur, are you awake?" She knew it was a silly question really. He woke with the slightest stirring from her; a fact she was well aware of. It was one of his quirks and she loved him all the more for it.

"Yes dear," he replied sleepily.

"Come look at this."

Arthur rolled to his back and rested his arm across his eyes. "What is it?"

"Harry and Ginny," she replied.

Arthur turned to her. Light from the moon spilled through the window; framing her in an ethereal glow. The silver streaks in her hair shimmered while the light danced softly upon her bare shoulder. "Oh?" he asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of his voice.

"They're in your old hammock."

"They?" Arthur asked. He sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes.

"Yes. Come see," she urged.

Arthur climbed from the bed and moved in behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. "Well that's interesting."

"They've been trying to figure each other out for so long now that I'm starting to doubt if they ever will."

"You said she was going back with him after the match?"

Molly nodded. "Yes." Her disapproval evident in her tone.

"Good."

"Good?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.

"They need to figure out what they are to each other or they'll never be any good for anyone. And they can't do it if they're separated by an ocean."

Molly patted his hand. "You're right."

"Does this mean you're not going to lecture her on proper behavior?" Arthur asked.

"It doesn't upset you that your daughter is essentially living with a man she's not married to?"

"Would it bother you if she was living with Fred and George?"

"Harry is far from her brother," Molly replied snippily.

Arthur sighed. "Yes. You're right. He might be a son to us and even a brother to the boys but those two have never viewed each other as brother and sister."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"I've accepted it… You should too."

Molly was silent for a moment before she patted his hand again. "You're right, Arthur."

"I am?" he asked, surprised she was backing down so quickly.

"Yes. Besides, she has made it quite clear she is going to do what she wants, regardless of what I think. I prefer to have my daughter speaking to me than not."

Arthur chuckled softly. They watched out the window for a few moments more before he pulled her gently away, "Come back to bed, Molly,"

Molly pulled away from him. She picked up her housecoat and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I'll be back in just a tick."

"Where're you going?" Arthur asked.

"Mother's intuition," she replied before slipping out the door and down the stairs.

XX

Fred rinsed his mug and stacked it in the sink. He turned to return to the parlor and the discussion with George, Ron and Bill when he glanced out the window into the garden and froze. His eyes widened, and he rubbed them before looking out the window again. He quickly moved to the doorway to the parlor. "Oy," he said in a loud whisper. "Come take a look at this."

George, Ron and Bill glanced up curiously. "Look at what?" Ron asked.

"Our sister… In the hammock… With Harry," Fred said.

The other three boy's eyes widened; though Ron's somewhat less than the others. "Really?" Bill asked.

"Do they look…" George began.

"Comfortable?" Fred supplied. George nodded. "Very. In fact, I might go so far as to say cozy." George and Bill scrambled from the couch and dashed into the kitchen. Ron followed dutifully along. "See," Fred said. He nudged Bill with his elbow. "Told you."

"Indeed you did," George replied for them.

"Do you think there's any truth to the rumors?" Bill asked.

"You tell me," Fred said indicating out the window.

"They're certainly friendly," George said.

"Friendly enough that this requires attention," Fred mused.

"I agree, brother of mine," George said.

"Me too," Bill added.

The three of them turned to Ron. "Oh no," he said shaking his head and backing up a step. "Never mind what Harry and Ginny might do to me, I'm not about to upset Hermione right now. Besides, I've got no problem with Harry and Ginny being… friendly," he said.

"Friendly?" Fred asked.

"Do you really want me to spell it out?" Ron asked.

"NO!" Fred, George and Bill hissed loudly together.

"I didn't think so," Ron replied. "Besides, I've seen this before." The other three raised their eyebrows at him. Ron sighed. "The two of them," he waved his hand at the window and paused while gathering his thoughts.

"Yes?" Fred prodded.

"Look, you know how everyone says I'm Harry's best friend?"

"Sure," Bill said. "Have been for years."

"Well, you're wrong. Ginny is. Has been since her sixth year," Ron said. The other three stared at him blankly. "Come on, all three of you can't be that blind."

"Not following you, bro," George said. Fred and Bill nodded their agreement.

"The night Charlie died," Ron said exasperatedly.

"What about it?" Bill asked tightly.

"Who did they turn to?"

Fred glanced at George; they both shrugged. "Each other?" Bill asked slowly.

"Right," Ron said. "Want to know where I found them the next morning?"

"Are you saying?" George asked, his eyes widening.

"Of course not," Ron snapped.

"Thank Merlin," Bill breathed.

"So, if you didn't find them, where did you find them?" Fred asked.

"On the couch in the library at headquarters," Ron said, "sleeping," he emphasized.

"Together?" George asked.

"Yeah, one of three times that I know of."

"Three?" Bill croaked.

"Charlie, Percy, and Hermione's parents," Ron said, ticking them off on his fingers.

The other three were silent for a few moments while contemplating what Ron had told them. "Harry wouldn't take advantage of Ginny in a situation like that," Bill said.

"Hardly," Fred agreed.

"So they needed someone…" George started.

"And they found each other," Ron finished.

"Well, that's all well and good, but that was a bit different than this," George said waving towards the window.

Ron glared at him. "Look, someday Ginny's gonna bring home some ponce and she's gonna be…"

"Doing unmentionable things with him?" Fred asked, shuddering as he did.

"Right," Ron said. "I don't know about you three, but I can't think of any ponce I'd prefer her to be…"

"Doing unmentionable things with," George said, shuddering also.

"Right," Ron said. "Can any of you?" The other three all shook their heads. "So we're agreed then, we don't need to kill Harry if he happens to be dating our sister?"

"Ron," Fred said. "You misunderstand us."

"We weren't going to kill him," George said.

"We couldn't agree with you more," Fred continued.

"If she has to bring a ponce home," George said.

"Then the ponce may as well be Harry," Fred concluded.

"I agree," Bill added. "Came to that conclusion a while ago."

"It's just that this," Fred said, gesturing out the window.

"Presents a pranking opportunity," George said.

"Too good to pass up," Bill finished.

Ron shook his head. "Sorry, I'm out."

"Come on, Ronald," Bill said. "What better way to show Harry there's no hard feelings about his original wager than by pranking him?"

Ron wavered. Bill had a point. He glanced out the window and back at his brothers, and slowly asked, "What'd you have in mind?"

"That's the spirit," George said. The three of them grabbed Ron and pulled him into a huddle.

"Now what we'll do is," Fred began.

"Why me?" Ron blurted after a moment.

"Shush," Bill said. A short time later, they broke apart grinning madly at one another.

"Ready?" Fred asked.

Bill nodded and stood up. He was on his way to the door when a voice spoke that dropped his heart into the pit of his stomach. "And where might you be going William Weasley?" Bill froze and slowly turned around. "Mum," he croaked.

"Mum," Fred and George greeted her happily.

"I… erm…" Bill stuttered.

"Home," Fred said.

"Yes, he and little Ronnikins were just heading home," George said.

"Without his cloak?" Molly asked.

The twins' interference had given Bill enough time to recover and he ran with the story they had given him. "I was warm. But now that you mention it, I should probably bring it."

Molly handed him his cloak. "Yes, perhaps you should. Say goodnight to Fleur and the boys for me?"

"Sure thing, mum," Bill said. He quickly kissed her on the cheek. "See you lot at the match," he said and with a fairly loud crack dissaparated.

Ron grabbed his cloak from behind the door. "I should be going too," he said. He kissed his mother on the cheek and without bothering to say goodbye to the twins, dissaparated away.

Molly eyed her two remaining sons. "Well," Fred said.

"Should be going ourselves," George said. He grabbed his cloak and tossed Fred's to him.

"Sit," Molly ordered. She pointed to one of the kitchen benches.

"Now, mum," Fred said nervously.

"We didn't…"

"Sit," Molly hissed.

"Right," the twins said together and quickly sat down.

Molly smiled and they both shifted nervously. She let them stew for a moment longer then braced her hands on the table as she glared down at them. "Now you two listen to me, and listen good," she paused. When she was sure she had their attention, she continued. "Those two have been trying to figure each other out for years. And any two normal individuals would have done it by now. But they're not normal, are they?" she asked.

The twins glanced at each other, not quite sure where their mother was going with this, but figuring it best to agree they turned back to her and shook their heads, "No".

"No," Molly echoed them. "They're the two people who Voldemort singled out-" Both Fred and George blinked in surprise.. They'd only heard her say that name once, maybe twice before. "-Even now," Molly continued, "after the rest of the world has moved on they still have to worry about it. Not more than two months ago Harry had to fight of two Death Eaters. And Ginny's done the same within the last year. On top of that, those two are eviscerated on a regular basis in the press… Don't you think that's enough?… Don't the two of them have enough problems with a possible relationship without the two of you helping things along?"

George turned to Fred. "Never thought of it like that," he said.

"Me either," Fred agreed.

"Yes. I know you didn't," Molly said. She looked at each of them significantly.

"On our word," Fred said.

"We'll leave them alone," George said.

"At least till they have a chance to get themselves sorted," Fred said.

Molly pursed her lips. "I suppose that's the best I can hope for," she muttered.

"Well," Fred said. He stood up.

"If that's about it," George said, standing also.

"We'll be heading home," Fred said. They both leaned in and kissed her on opposite cheeks.

"See you Sunday, mum," George said.

"And don't worry," Fred said.

"We'll make sure Ron and Bill leave them alone too," George said. Two loud pops later Molly found herself alone in her kitchen. She doused the candles and made her way back to her bed.

"All taken care of?" Arthur asked.

Molly slid in next to him. "Yes, dear."

"They're good boys," Arthur said. "They'll give them a chance to figure things out before having a go at them."

"Actually," Molly said, "if Ginny and Harry do manage to sort themselves out. And that sorting results in them dating. And our sons do decide to have a go at them. I'm quite looking forward to seeing Harry and Ginny return the favor."

Arthur grinned. "You're trouble, woman. You know that, don't you?"

"Me?" Molly giggled innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't," Arthur replied. He turned on his side and pulled her back against his stomach. "Goodnight, Love."

"Goodnight, Arthur," Molly replied happily.

---

Lee Jordan sat in his chair in the announcers' booth at the Montrose Magpies' stadium his knee bouncing up and down eagerly as he read the paper. Even with just a handful of fans in the stadium the atmosphere was already charged with anticipation. The excitement would soon grow to that more commonly associated with a league finals match. Lee had to admit, the IAQ had hit a couple of wicked bludgers recently. The rules changes, only four to five matches into the different leagues' seasons, were already winning over even the most diehard of purists. Simply put, fans loved to see a good chase for the snitch. Most matches were averaging five catches combined between the seekers and fans everywhere were eating it up.

The second twist the IAQ had unveiled for the year was inter-league play. English fans were seeing teams from the European, Asian, Australian, Russian, North and South American first divisions and vice verse. Each league still played for their own championship, but each team from each league would play two home and two away matches against teams from another league. And to make sure teams didn't turn the matches into exhibitions games, playing only their reserves, the games all counted in the standings for their respective leagues. And the matches that the IQF had set up were a quidditch fan's dream come true. The only time you were going to see more talent on a pitch all at once would be during the World Cup. And some of the professional teams had assembled rosters capable of going deep into that tournament. In fact, when he had first seen the schedule for the Magpies this year, Lee had nearly wet himself over this particular match.

Finally, there was going to be a rematch between Potter and Leander. Better than two years, it had taken to get these two seekers onto the same pitch since Nora Leander had beaten Harry Potter to the snitch and propelled the Swedish Nationals to victory over the defending World Cup Champion, USA, in a friendly. Since then, Potter was undefeated. Leander had lost twice. Both times to Victor Krum. She had also beaten Victor twice. So far this year, with the new rules in place and each team having played four matches, Potter had caught the snitch fifteen times with one catch against him. Nora had managed only thirteen catches but had yet to have a catch made against her. Suffice it to say, tickets were not easy to come by. Crazy as it sounded, the Daily Prophet had reported last week that scalpers were getting as much as seven hundred fifty galleons for a single ticket; a ticket that got you a seat deep in the hoop end with an obstructed view.

To make things even crazier, there was speculation that Potter wasn't even going to play today. His last match, he had taken a bludger to the ribs from Colton Monroe of the Florida Mermaids. Colton was the best beater in the North American League's first division; and considered to be one of the top two or three in the world. He had taken personal offense to Harry's fourth catch of the snitch for the match and made sure that the first seeker to catch a snitch five times in a single match didn't do it against a team he was part of. He had taken aim and connected. The bludger had broken four of Harry's ribs and collapsed a lung. Jamison Twigler, Harry's backup, had to finish the match for him.

Lee had to laugh at all the speculation in the papers as to whether Harry was going to play or not. He knew better. If Potter could breathe, he'd be on the pitch. For the sake of the Magpies, he hoped Potter wouldn't still be nursing any of his wounds. Nothing, was more dangerous than a wounded animal. And, Lee had seen this wounded animal before.

Lee glanced at his watch, set the paper aside, and stood up. He moved to the edge of the booth, pointed his wand at his throat, and said, "Sonorus." "Good Morning Witches and Wizards!" his amplified voice boomed over the stadium and across the WWN.

XX

Fred pulled the yellow yarn wig with braided pigtails on his head and studied himself in the mirror. Along with the wig, he was wearing a white and black Montrose Magpies, women's t-shirt. It was stuffed; of course. As if there was ever a question. The front and back of the shirt were emblazoned with the double zeros of Nora Leander's uniform and her last name was stenciled across the shoulder blades. He also wore a black terrycloth skirt with the words Leander's Fannies stenciled in white across his bum. He turned and grinned at his twin. With his unshaven legs, and the white, muggle type cheerleader trainers he was wearing, he was quite the vision.

"Ready?" George asked.

"Yep," Fred replied. "How do I look?"

"You can see me?"

"Standing right there," Fred answered.

"Then that's how you look."

Fred eyed him critically. "Nope, can't possibly look that bad," he retorted. He glanced in the mirror again. "I make a much better looking bird than you?"

"Yeah," George countered. "I wouldn't take you home, even after drinking a whole case of firewhisky… And, puttin' a bag over your head."

"You think it'll work?" Fred asked picking up his bag."

"We're about to find out," George said. "Ron knows what he's suppose to buy for us?"

Fred nodded. "Yep."

George grabbed his bag. "Good, let's go before I chicken out," he said. He disappeared with a loud pop and was followed a second later by Fred. The two of them reappeared a moment later at one of the three apparation arrival stations for the Magpies' stadium. Their attire garnered a few amused looks, chuckles and shakes of the head; but nothing like one would expect. Bolstered, they set off for the pregame party being hosted by Leander's Fannies.

Leander's Fannies had been born when two blokes, on a dare from their girls, had worn the same costume Fred and George now wore to the Sweden vs. USA friendly two years ago. When Nora Leander had beaten Harry Potter to the snitch, as fans are won't to do, they attributed her win to their costumes. Since then, Leander's Fannies had gained cult status. A group of at least thirty, always in the same costume, regardless of being male or female, could be found at every match she played. Today, there would be more than two hundred of them; enough to fill an entire section of the stadium.

XX

Luke St. James plunked himself down on the bench next to Harry in the Hippogriffs' locker room. "How's it goin', mate?" he asked.

Harry finished lacing up his shin guard. "Good," he replied.

"Ribs doin' alright?"

Harry paused and rubbed them. "Still a bit sore."

"You wearn' the flap jacket?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, restricts my movement too much."

"Know what ya mean," Luke replied. "Doesn't really do much anyways. Still hurts if you get hit, and aint gonna prevent a bludger from breaken' 'em again." Harry nodded. Luke clapped him on the shoulder. "Still, we got ten days before our next match. Plenty of time to heal up if you can make it through this one without bustin' nothin'."

"Been a rough year already," Harry agreed. "Strange, really, I thought the new rules would slow down bludger attacks on seekers. And it did for a match or two, but it seems to be going up again."

Luke shrugged non-committaly. "Maybe… You got plans for when we get back? Wanna catch a show or something?"

"Ginny's coming back," Harry said, "mind if she joins us?"

Luke raised an eye. "Got ya' wrapped tight, don't she?"

"It's not like that," Harry said.

"Yeah, we aint been out moren' once since she first showed up."

Harry sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about that. It's just… well I can't just ditch her, can I?"

Luke grinned. "Nah, hell if a sheila like that moved in with me, I wouldn't leave her home alone either."

"It's not like that," Harry said again.

"No," Luke asked. Harry shook his head. "Then you won't hex me if I ask her out?" He laughed at the dark look that came over Harry's face. "I know better'n to mess with that," he said.

"She can go out with whoever she wants," Harry replied tightly. He jerked on an armguard and began lacing it up.

"Sure she can," Luke retorted. "Where'd you sleep on Friday night?" Harry froze, the color drained from his face and then his ears began heating up. Luke guffawed. He pounded Harry's back. "No worries, mate. I can keep a secret."

"We're not dating!" Harry hissed vehemently.

"Nope, just sleeping with each other," Luke chortled.

Harry turned and glared at him. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, while he clinched his fist tightly. Loose objects in the room began to rattle ominously and the contents of Leslie's locker spilled out, burying her in a pile of guards and jerseys before Harry reined his temper in. "What the hell!" Leslie fumed. She and the rest of Harry's teammates glanced nervously around the locker room.

"Shit, Potter," Luke hissed under his breath. "I'm just give'n it to ya a bit."

Harry waved his hand and Leslie's gear flew back into her locker. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm going to kill you, St. James," he hissed. Leslie and Heather stared at him. Their first encounter with his magic left them speechless for a moment.

"Come on, Potter," Luke said. "It's nothing I haven't had a go at you for before." Harry scowled at him.

"That was you?" Heather whispered. "Making the room go all," she paused and wobbled her arms about, "weavilly?"

"Drop it," Luke said bluntly. Both Heather and Leslie opened their mouths to respond. "Over, done with, it doesn't leave the locker room, you got me?" Luke growled.

"Right, didn't see anything," Heather replied. She glanced at Leslie for support.

"Nope, not a thing," she said.

"Good," Luke replied. He turned back to Harry. "Mate?" he asked seriously.

"I'm still gonna kill you," Harry muttered."

"I'm sorry, mate," Luke said. "But I don't get it. It's not like I haven't had a go at you for somethin' like that before."

"I know," Harry grated. "I'm sorry. Your comment was just too close to the headlines she and I are getting lately."

"It's not like you haven't got 'em before," Luke said.

"They can say anything they want about me," Harry replied testily.

"Ah," Luke nodded knowingly, "but not about her." Harry scowled. "Sure thing, mate, bring her along," Luke said. Harry glanced up. "Angie's back," Luke added seriously.

"Oh?" Harry asked.

Luke played with the ring on his finger. "Said she wants to give it another try."

"What about you?" Harry asked.

"What?" Luke asked.

"Do you want to give it another try?"

"Oh," Luke said. "Never wanted her to leave in the first place."

Harry nodded. "Does she believe you weren't cheating on her?"

Luke shrugged. "Not sure, but if she's willing to give me the chance to prove it, I'm takin' it."

"Yeah, I would too," Harry agreed.

"Really?" Luke asked. "You don't think I'm being some kind of stupid, whipped, Nancy boy?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. He'd seen the fight; been there when Angie had thrown her ring at Luke, and heard the names she had called him. It was a lot to forgive. But then Luke had made mistakes too. He hadn't cheated on her. Of that Harry was positive, but some of the pictures were pretty damning. Luke'd put himself in a bad position and Angie had believed the headlines. If Harry put himself in Angie's position, he wasn't sure he wouldn't have too. "You both messed up, mate," Harry said. "But if there's something still there, then you should fight for it."

Luke bobbed his head up and down. "Thanks, mate."

Harry thumped him on the back. "No worries, right?" he asked.

Luke straightened. "Right, no worries."

"So you want to make it a double?" Harry asked. "You, me, Angie and Gin?"

"Gin?" Luke asked with a raised eye.

"Bloody tosser," Harry grated.

"Sure thing, Potter. You bring your girl, I'll bring mine."

"She's not my girl."

Luke stood up and moved back to his locker. "You keep tellin' yourself that, Potter."

Harry grabbed a quaffle that was sitting on the floor and launched it at his back. Luke didn't dodge, and the quaffle sailed past his ear and slammed into Leslie's locker, toppling the gear out of it and burying her again. "God-damn-it!" she swore. "That's twice now, Potter!"

"Bloody good thing you're not a chaser, Potter," Luke chortled.

Before Harry could respond, Coach Thorpe bellowed, "Potter!" Harry turned around. Coach Thorpe jerked his thumb. "Visitor. In my office."

"Nope, not yer girl at all," Luke taunted. Harry gave him the bird and headed for Coach Thorpe's office.

"Hey!" Leslie shouted. "What about my gear?" Harry waved his hand behind his back and shut the door on the cachophy of the locker room.

XX

"Open da bag," the security guard ordered.

"Sure thing, mate," Fred replied jovially. He opened the bag wide so the man could look in.

"What's all dis?" the guard demanded. He reached in the bag and pulled out a round, tube like, parcel with a long stick attached to it.

"Fireworks," George supplied.

"I'm askn' her," the guard growled, jerking his thumb in Fred's direction. George snorted.

"Him," Fred corrected.

"What?" the guard demanded.

"Him," Fred said again. He waved his arm up and down his body. "It's a costume."

"I know dat!" the guard snapped. "You tink I aint seen Leander's Fannies 'fore?

"Course you have," Fred said. "They're fireworks," he supplied pointing at the rocket in the guard's hand.

"Yer's too?" the guard demanded looking at George.

George opened his bag so the man could look. "Yep."

"What'da they do?"

George shrugged. "Just you're standard rockets and stuff, y' know."

"Yeah, nothing too special. Just for celebratin' when Nora beats Potter's pants off again," Fred said.

"Bloody traitor," George grumbled.

"Goin' an' playin' for the friggn' Yanks," Fred muttered.

"'Ow could 'e do tha' t'us?" George whined. He wiped a tear from his cheek.

"Now 's ok," Fred said. He wrapped his arm around George's shoulder. "Buck up, Leander'll teach 'em what's what,"

"Yeah," George agreed eagerly. "She'll get 'em, alright, she will."

"That's the spirit, mate." Fred clapped his hand on George's shoulder. He turned to the guard. "He gets a bit 'motional," he said.

George swiped the back of his hand across his face. "Sorry 'bout that."

The guard just shook his head. He'd seen crazier fans than these two. "Yer only allowed ten each. And only 'fore or after the match. And they can' be none for the Hippogriffs. " he added.

Fred and George looked scandalized at the accusation. "Do we look like we' 'ave any for the bloody yanks?" they demanded.

"Can' be too sure," the guard countered. "Light one off."

"What? Fred asked.

"Light one off," he said again. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.

Fred shrugged. "What'ever y' say mate," he said. He pulled a rocket out of his bag and went to touch his wand to the fuse.

"Wait," the guard said. Fred paused. The guard reached into George's bag and pulled out a rocket. "This un," he said.

Fred eyed it nervously. "Y' don't wan' tha' one, mate," he said.

"Yeah, pick a differen' one," George urged him. He shifted nervously.

The guard glared at them suspiciously. He shoved the rocket towards Fred. "Light it." Fred swallowed hard and glanced at George. He shrugged and nodded once. Fred slowly took the rocket from the guard, who crossed his arms across his chest.

"Al'righ', but don' say I didn' warn ya," Fred said. He touched his wand to the fuse and the rocket zipped away trailing an ear splitting screech. Fred and George quickly closed their bags tightly and flattened themselves on the ground. Almost instantly the rocket smashed into the ceiling and ricocheted wildly within the entry tunnel of the stadium. Witches and Wizards alike scrambled for cover, while the more adept chose to erect shield spells. Moments later, with a bang so loud that people clasped their hands over their ears, the rocket exploded in a shower of sparks releasing a gigantic, black, flaming magpie. The apparition tried spreading its wings and screeched in frustration over the confined nature of its surroundings. It turned left and then right, and spotted a bit of light at the end of the entry tunnel. Shrieking, it hurtled forward, barreling directly at the security guard. The man fumbled clumsily for his wand as the gigantic raven flew at him. He managed to extract his wand but in his excitement dropped it. The specter squawked angrily and flew through him showering the man with sparks and soot before it disappeared out the end of the tunnel into the stadium where it was greeted with roaring cheers from Magpie fans already past the turnstiles.

Fred stood up and dusted himself off. He glanced around with a suppressed smile at the stunned, soot blackened, faces in the tunnel. He stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it around. "I say," George said. "Tha' un was well wort' three galleons." He turned and patted out an ember that was smoldering on the security guard's robes.

"Too right, old chap, gla' we got more'n one of em," Fred said.

"Kin we go in now?" George asked the guard. The man didn't respond so Fred and George quickly pressed their tickets into his hand and hurried past him into the stadium. Once inside, they turned to each other.

"Did you see his face?" Fred chortled.

"I think he filled his shorts," George cackled.

"Can't believe he had us light one off down there," Fred managed to gasp.

"Good thing he picked one from my bag," George said. He made sure no one was looking and dumped the bag in the trash before pouring water on it from his wand.

"Come on," Fred said leading the way. "Ron should have bought our Hippogriff gear for us by now. Let's get out of these costumes."

"But you were just starting to grow on me," George snickered.

XX

"You ave ze camera?" Fleur hissed to Hermione.

"Yes," she whispered back.

"Gud," Fleur said.

"There has to be some way of using the pictures against them," Hermione mused, as much to herself as to Fleur.

Fleur patted her hand on Hermione's knee. "We are two very smart witches. We will tink of somsing, non?"

Hermione smiled wickedly and took Fleur's hand in hers. "Oui, mon amie." Fleur grinned back, her smile just as wicked.

"Oi, Ronnikins," Fred bellowed from the edge of the row.

The whole of the Weasley clan, Tonks, Remus, Mad-Eye, Professors McGonagall, Hagrid and Madam Hootch, along with most of the former members of the DA turned to look at him. "What the bloody hell are you wearing that for?" Ron demanded when he caught sight of Fred and George.

"RONALD!" Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and Fleur all shrieked at him.

"There are children present," Mrs. Weasley hissed venomously.

Ron ducked for cover and in the ensuing tumult, Fleur elbowed Hermione. "Ze camera," she hissed. "Take ze picture."

"Nice legs, boys," Mr. Weasley chuckled.

"Turn around so I can see your bums," Bill chortled.

Fred turned around and wiggled his bum obligingly. "Did you get the stuff?" George demanded of Ron.

Ron ducked under another swat from his mother and tossed a bag at them. "Know why you wanted these now," he said.

"It's been lovely," Fred said.

"But we're going to go change now," George said.

"Make sure you use the right loo!" Seamus hollered at them.

"Wait up, I'm going with you," Ron called after catching a glance of his mother's murderous face. "I need a butterbeer."

"Can I come too, dad?" Percy tugged on his sleeve. "Me too unca Rwon?" Charlie asked eagerly.

Ron grabbed them both by the hand. "Yeah, sure," he said dragging them along. Anything to get away from mum at the moment, he thought.

The rest of the party watched them go and turned to grin at each other. "Now what do you suppose that's about? Remus mused.

Professor McGonagall's mouth creased into a thin smile. "I imagine we'll find out in due time."

"Did you get ze picture?" Fleur demanded quietly once she had settled in her seat again.

Hermione nodded. "Oui, more than one, mon amie,"

"Gud," Fleur said.

XX

"Hey," Harry said closing the door behind him.

Ginny smiled slyly. "Miss me?" she asked.

"Yes," Harry said.

Ginny stepped up and hugged him before she began examining his gear, making sure it was securely fastened. She was pleased to see he had taken to securing his guards with the knots she had shown him. "I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks," she said.

"I'm only a year older than you," Harry countered. Ginny had stopped in front of him and was playing with the front of his jersey.

"One year and eleven days," she corrected him. Harry just smiled and pulled her against his chest. After a few moments, Ginny said, "Your heart is pounding."

"I'll be fine," Harry replied.

"What happened," Ginny asked.

"Luke pissed me off."

Ginny pushed away and looked up. "Luke?" she asked surprised.

"Accused me of sleeping with you."

"Weeelll…," Ginny said quirking an eyebrow.

"You know what I meant," Harry said. "It was just a little too close to the headlines we're getting."

Ginny sighed. She was well aware of how locker room banter went. "Just smile back and don't say anything, Harry. He'll leave it be if you just ignore him."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "I know. You'll be at my place when I get home?"

"Yes."

"Good. He wants to see a show with us," Harry said.

"Luke?" Ginny asked. Harry nodded. "You don't have to take me along you know. I could manage alone for a night or two if you two want to go out."

"Actually, his wife came back. He'd like to go out with the four of us."

"I forgot he was married," Ginny said.

"It's been kind of touch and go for a while. The rags got hold of a picture of him and some girl and really did a number on him. Angie believed the headlines."

Ginny nodded. "I remember seeing something about it. He was cheating on her."

"No he wasn't," Harry said. Ginny eyed him skeptically. "I'm not saying he didn't make mistakes, but he didn't sleep with that girl."

"He told you that?"

"No. She did."

Ginny gave him a look. "Oh?"

"When she couldn't get him into bed, she tried me next."

Something flickered in Ginny's eyes. She shook her head exasperatedly. "Dumb slut," she muttered. "So does Luke's wife…"

"Angie," Harry supplied.

"Right, does she believe him now?"

"Don't know, but she's back and that's something."

"Does he want her back?"

"He never took his ring off," Harry said.

"And he wants to double with us now?"

"I told him we weren't dating, but he's not buying it."

"I don't think many people are," Ginny said. She shrugged. "Either way, it doesn't matter. Sure, let's go out with them."

"I'll let him know," Harry replied.

Ginny nodded. "Nervous?" she asked after a moment.

Harry shook his head. "Nah, more like excited."

"You're not scared at all?"

"Scared?" Harry asked confused. "What's to be scared of?"

Ginny gave him a disbelieving look. "Are you kidding, I was terrified before matches. I didn't want to let my teammates down."

"After everything you've been through you get scared before a match?"

"Well when you put it like that, scared might not be the right word."

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm not scared."

"Always the hero. Do you ever get scared anymore?" Ginny teased.

"Yes," Harry said.

"When?"

"When I think about not having you in my life."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Potter," she said, smiling sweetly at him.

"I'll remember that," Harry said. The sound of someone pounding on the door interrupted them. "Yeah," Harry shouted.

"Headin' up boss man," Luke shouted.

"All right," Harry called back. He turned back to Ginny. "Guess it's time."

"Catch the snitch for me?" Ginny asked.

Harry grinned. "Catch me if I fall?" Ginny grinned back at him.

"I promise," they said at the same time, causing them to both snort with laughter.

Ginny stepped up close and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. "See you after the match," she whispered once she pulled away. And then she was gone. Harry shook himself and headed for the pitch.

BOOM!

Lee Jordan whipped his head around in the direction of the explosion, mimicking the reactions of thousands of fans within the Magpies' stadium. "What in the name of Merlin?" he began before his eyes fell on the colossal, flaming hippogriff floating in the sky over the stadium. A loud cheer went up from the Hippogriff fans, who had managed to procure tickets to the match, only to be drowned out by the boos of the Magpie fans a moment later.

XX

Fred stared up at the sparkling apparition now flying from one end of the stadium to the other. "Whoa," he said. He turned to George and high fived him. "How long did you say it would last?"

"That's really cool," Percy gushed.

"Four hours, give or take," George replied.

"Thank you," Fred and George said to Percy

"You two did that?" Ron asked.

Fred and George stared blankly back at him. "Did what?" they asked.

"Right," Bill said.

"Good show," Hermione said.

"Wha's a good show, aun' Hermine?" Charlie asked.

"Yes," Fleur agreed. "Gud show."

"Just wait," George said. He pointed towards the pitch where numerous officials from the Magpies were congregating.

XX

Once he had recovered from the surprise of the explosion, Lee chuckled. "Well," he announced. "It seems some of the Hippogriff fans have managed to get a few fireworks past security today." He didn't say who, but had a fair idea who those fans were. "Not to worry though, the Magpie Crowd Control Team is on it now. Should be gone any second. Yes, there goes the banishing spell now."

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Seven more explosions rocked the stadium sending concussions pounding into the air. A moment later, a new cheer went up from the Hippogriff fans.

"Well that didn't work at all," Lee commented dryly. He stared up at the last names of the seven Hippogriff starters now floating in the air above the stadium. Noticing the Magpie officials preparing to send another series of spells at the apparitions, he continued. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, lads." He clapped his hands over his ears just before the first of seven extinguishing spells slammed into the sparking names. Another series of explosions rocked the stadium and the names of the hippogriff players morphed into replicas of their jerseys.

XX

George put his arm around Fred's shoulder and wiped a tear from his eye. "That's beautiful, that is," he said.

"Stunning," Fred replied.

"Brilliant," Ron said.

"Bloody brilliant," Bill said.

"William," Molly scolded.

"Sorry, mum," he said.

"Manifque," Fleur said.

"Boy's," Arthur said.

"Yeah, dad?" the twins asked.

"Have I ever told you how glad I am that you dropped out of school?"

"Arthur," Molly hissed.

"Thanks, dad," the twins said. "But the best is yet to come."

"There's more?" Molly asked eagerly.

"Yep," Fred said.

"Just keep your eyes," George began.

"Right over there," Fred pointed.

The whole section followed their direction. Molly and Hermione grinned. "I can hardly wait," they said together.

XX

Harry stood in the tunnel of the stadium waiting for the announcer to begin introductions of the Hippogriff starting seven. It was already bedlam in the stadium, and only the low level wards up around the actual playing field had prevented he and the rest of his teammates from being showered with trash, food and beverages during warm-ups.

Harry smirked with the image in his mind of the different fireworks touting the Hippogriffs now ranging over the stadium. Not only did it seem impossible for the Magpie stadium control personnel to get rid of them. They attacked and extinguished any fireworks supporting the Magpies. Harry couldn't help chuckling again as the image of a flaming magpie squawked in terror as the colossal hippogriff relentlessly pursued it around the stadium. For the few thousand or so Hippogriff fans in attendance it was a coup indeed. One that had them cheering raucously and was serving to make the Magpie fans quiet surly. Harry was pretty sure it wouldn't take him two guesses to figure out who was responsible. He had to hand it to the twins; their little stunt had certainly bolstered the nerves of his two rookie chasers. "Strange," he thought, "what affects players before a match." But then, he figured seeing how their fans had taken over the hostile environment from the home team, could certainly boost a player's confidence. Just knowing you had a friend out there was a good thing.

"All right," Coach Thorpe said. The team turned to him. "Ready?" he asked. All the players nodded. "Mitts, you're first." Heather nodded again, mounted her broom and shot past the other six, high-fiveing them on her way into the stadium.

XX

"And now, for the Hippogriffs," Lee Jordan's voice rang out through the stadium. "At chaser, Mitts!… Carnes!…and Toms!…At keeper, St. James!… Beaters, Rains!…and Mercer!…and at seeker, North American League MVP, Reigning World Cup Champion, and World Cup MVP…HARRY POTTER!"

Harry streaked onto the pitch, assailed by boos. It seemed, that he was indeed, public enemy number one amongst English quidditch fans; Destroyer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, be damned. Harry raced around the pitch once, relishing the boos for what they were. The exact treatment any opposing seeker would get upon entering enemy territory. He slowed as he passed the section with family and friends of the Hippogriff players, pumping his fist and exhorting them to even louder cheers. Somehow, as always, Hermione was able to make herself heard through the bedlam.

He made to continue on around the stadium towards where the rest of his teammates had gathered but out of the corner of his eye caught something that made him slow. He turned to ascertain what he had seen, and came to a near standstill. As he slowed, the whole of the stadium fell to dead silence.

XX

"Look! Look! Look!" Fred pointed gleefully.

George clasped his hand over his heart and sniffed. "Oh, now that is a beautiful sight," he said.

"I think he's gonna fall off his broom," Fred cackled.

"Well, it isn't every day, you see two hundred witches and wizards with long black hair, a scar on their forehead,…" George said.

"Extremely large erm… assets,…" Fred continued with a cautious glance at his mother. Her mouth was hanging open, too stunned to say anything.

"All wearing your jersey,…" George added.

"And those very short skirts," Fred finished. "Can't quite make out what it says across the bum," he remarked. "Can you George."

George leaned forward slightly, squinting his eyes. "Potter's Pretties, I do believe," he said, straightening.

Ginny crashed into them; crushing them in her arms. "You two are brilliant!" She shrieked. She let them go only to grab each of them by the sides of their faces and kiss them gleefully on the lips.

"We've always thought so," the twins replied.

Professor McGonagall let out a harrumph. "I'm glad to see you learned something in my classes before you left school," she said.

"We do owe you a great debt," the twins replied.

"Stop by the shop some time," Fred said.

"And we'll see what we can do for you," George said.

The trace of a smile creased her mouth. "Thank you, but no."

XX

Leander's Fannies stared in confusion at Harry, wondering why on earth he would come to a stop in front of them. Harry bowed slightly and Hippogriff fans throughout the stadium roared their approval. A few of the more alert members of Leander's Fannies started noticing the changes to their attire and began shouting angrily at one another. Harry shook his head and continued on his way to join his teammates. He settled on the ground between Leslie and Luke.

"Seems your business partners have outdone themselves," Luke said. Harry could tell he was doing everything he could to keep from laughing.

"Business partners?" Leslie asked.

"I just hope they don't get caught. We'll never sell another product in England again," Harry said.

"Yeah, Carnes," Luke said. "Didn't you know Potter's a business man?" She leaned forward to peer around Harry at Luke. "Owns twenty percent of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"Oh," Leslie said. She straightened up. "Wonder if Mitts has any idea what she's got herself into goin' out with one of them?" she mused. Harry snorted and bent over double, unable to keep his laughter in any longer.

XX

"And it's Potter in the lead," Lee announced, his voice carrying across the stadium and the WWN. "Leander directly on him as he tries to even the score with her and make it three catches a piece. They're both plummeting to the ground; thirty feet now! Fifteen! Ten! Neither pulling out as the snitch leads them down! And…" he stopped mid-sentence. "They've crashed… Both Potter and Leander have crashed! If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it! Both Nora Leander and Harry Potter have crashed!"

Hermione let out a shriek and turned away at the last instant, burying her face against Ron's chest.

"Get up. Get up. Get up," Ginny whispered desperately next to him.

Dark spots formed in Harry's vision as he tried to get his wind. He managed to get a breath in and untangle himself from Nora. He flinched painfully as the different parts of his body began reporting in. Chief among them, were his ribs; expressing their displeasure with the treatment they had received. If they aren't broken again, then Nora didn't landed on me either, he thought darkly. He pushed himself to his knees and managed to get to his feet before Nora did. Clutching at his side. He stumbled towards the Hippogriff bench. All the while, oblivious of the two fallen seekers, the match raged above them. Harry knew neither team would call time unless their seeker was unable to get back in the air. And he desperately wanted to beat Nora there, and force the Magpies to use theirs.

Dave, the Hippogriffs' head trainer met him halfway. Harry leaned on him heavily while he ran his wand up and down Harry's body. "Nothing's broken," he shouted towards Coach Thorpe.

"Can he go back in?" Thorpe shouted back.

Harry ignored them both. His ribs weren't broken, that was all he needed to know. He broke away from Dave, heading for Twiggy. "Gimmi' your broom," he growled. His head was clearing; the fog in his mind, replaced with anger. Anger brought adrenaline and it served to dull the pain in his ribs.

"Potter," Twiggy started.

"Give me the damn broom!" Harry snarled. Twiggy quickly handed it over.

"Wait!" Dave shouted as Harry moved to mount the broom and rejoin the match. "At least let me numb them!"

Harry batted the trainer's wand away. "No, that spell messes with my mind." He turned on the spot, glimpsed a speck of gold and darted away.

"He's all right," Ron said releasing the breath he had been holding. Only then did he become aware of the death grip Ginny had on his arm. "Bloody hell, Gin," he complained. The fact that Hermione didn't even scold him testified to how distracted she was as she watched Harry stumble across the pitch and get back in the air.

Ginny quickly let go. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

Ron rubbed his arm. "It's fine. Just pick someone else the next time you try and tear their arm off."

Fred shook his head. "The boy never does anything half way, does he?"

"Damn near scared me to death, he did," George muttered.

"Tosser," Fred muttered.

"Prat," George agreed.

"Look!" Bill shouted. "There they go again!"

"Oh, Harrryyyy," Hermione groaned. She covered her eyes, occasionally peeking between her fingers to see what was happening before covering them again.

The crowd roared and Lee Jordan's voice carried across the stadium. "AND BOTH POTTER AND LEANDER, AFTER GETTING NEW BROOMS, ARE BACK IN THE AIR! I've known Potter since he was a schoolboy, and he's always been hardheaded, but I think he may have met his match in Nora Leander. We're about eighty minutes into the match here in Montroes, and the score is Magpies one hundred forty-five, Hippogriffs one thirty-five. Leander leads potter three catches to two. AND THERE THEY GO AGAIN! Leander has a small advantage, but Potter pulls even."

Harry's eyes watered with agony as Nora slammed her broom into his when he pulled even. She drove an elbow into his ribs. Harry caught her arm against his side and pinned it there, refusing to let go. In tandem they wove in and out of the chasers, ducking under the bludger attacks from both teams as they raced after the small, golden orb fleeing before them.

They streaked from one end of the pitch to the other, following the snitch as it flew between the Magpies' keeper and the hoops he was guarding. Their trajectory took them directly into the path of the shot from David Toms, and the quaffle smashed into the tail of Harry's broom, preventing a sure goal for the Hippogriffs. The two seekers skidded out of control, heading for the support post of a lower hoop. Harry had to release Nora's arm and they split the post between them; each, just brushing it with their shoulders as they flew past.

In the space of two seconds the crowd roared their approval of the blocked goal, gasped in fear of another crash, and groaned in frustration when Heater Mitts scooped up the loose quaffle and tossed it through the hoop, pulling the Hippogriffs even with the Magpies. The seekers righted themselves, came together again and streaked after the snitch. First Harry was in the lead and then Nora, each batting at the other's hands, knocking them away from the snitch, and then, suddenly…

"AND POTTER'S GOT IT!" Lee bellowed to the crowd. That's twenty to the Hippogriffs, they lead one sixty-five to one forty-five!"

Harry released the snitch and it darted to the Hippogriffs bench. He turned and spotted Nora; muttering, circling higher into the air, trying to catch her breath before the referee released another snitch. Harry hurried up next to her. "All even," he thought

Nora didn't bother to look at him. "No," she replied. "You still trail by one. In both catches and matches won."

Harry's head snapped her direction. He wasn't aware he'd actually spoken out loud. "Not for long," he growled.

"No," she agreed, finally deigning to look at him. "Soon you will trail by three catches and two matches."

The boos raining down from the stands distracted them from their verbal sparring. Harry immediately glanced towards the Magpie keeper and caught sight of David and Leslie pounding on Heather's back before they streaked back to help defend against the renewed attack of the Magpie chasers. Nora twisted around to look at the scoreboard and by the time she turned back, Harry was a blur racing away from her. Swearing, she bolted after him and the snitch fleeing in front of him.

XX

Harry wiped the sweat pouring off his brow away. His chest heaved as he gasped for air. Next to him, as drenched as he was, Nora Leander floated on her broom. Harry sniffed and nearly gagged. Either one, the other, or both of them stunk. He sped up just a bit, hoping to leave the stench behind. Nora matched him and they continued their search for the snitch.

It seemed, to Harry, that since the match started he and Nora had been in one continuous chase for the snitch. The results of which, Harry was none too pleased with; four catches for each of them, totaling seventy-five points for their respective teams.

Harry bumped into Nora, just letting her know he was still there. Even if she wasn't showing it, he knew she had to be as cooked as he was. But he wouldn't, even for a moment, let her think he was done. And he really was done. Even if they'd both started the season playing five matches in fifteen days, Nora had been at home for all but one of them. He had been on the road the whole time. And no matter how fancy the hotel, or good the food, it wore on a wizard, or witch if that were the case. She also, had not suffered the injuries he had. Even for a seeker, a broken arm, busted ribs and collapsed lung all within four matches was out of the ordinary. And now he had a crash and a broken broom to add to his laundry list of woes.

Throw in the new rules regarding the snitch, and, well, to him, it seemed like he had played twenty-four matches; one for each catch of the snitch, nineteen by him, five by opposing seekers. And really, that's near what it was, because each catch, represented about three and a half chases; pretty much the same ratio of chases to catches that existed under the old rules.

By Harry's reckoning, in this one match against Nora, he had already done the same work of eight matches under the old rules. The fans might be eating it up, but e was beginning to realize just how daunting the rest of the season would be. He also was starting to understand just what Luke meant about seekers finally having to play the whole match. He hated to admit it, but Twigs was probably going to get in more matches than anyone could have anticipated when she was signed. He was quite glad to have her experience on the bench verses some unknown rookie.

Harry jerked his broom to the left. Nora was quick to follow him and when she realized it was just a feint on his part, she quickly moved the other direction. Harry zipped around next to her again. With the possibility of either of them ending the match with another catch of the snitch, neither could afford a second's complacency.

"This has been some match, folks," Lee announced. "We've a bit less than thirty minutes remaining and our score is two eighty-five to two fifty-five in favor of the Hippogriffs. Opps, check that. Make it two sixty-five to the Magpies as Montgomery sneaks one past the Hippogriff keeper. Say what you will about the Yanks, but they've given good account of themselves today and unless Leander has one more catch left in her, things look pretty bleak for the home side. And checking in on our seekers, it seems the snitch, after being in constant flight to this point, has gone into hiding. I dare say both Leander and Potter are a bit relieved as it's the first bit of rest they've had in a good while now. Though I bet Leander would love one more crack at it before the match is over. I imagine she'll get it with the amount of time we've left to us. Will today's match give us our first five snitcher in history? Only time will tell. And here come the Hippogriffs. Mitts to Carnes and back again and ahead to Toms and there's Mitts again. I say, she's shown herself well today. A shot from her… And it's blocked by Spencer. He tosses ahead to Montgomery. NO! The quaffle's stolen back by Mitts and she slots it past Spencer, extending the Hippogriffs lead to thirty once more.

Ginny surged to the railing from where she'd been dancing wildly with Fred and George, celebrating the Hippogriff's most recent goal. "COME ON HARRRRRYYYY!" she screamed, pointing at a speck of gold in the distance.

In exactly that same instant, Both Harry and Nora spotted the snitch and rocketed after it. The snitch zipped away. It paused for a few moments in front of the section of Leander's Fannies, still clad, none to happily, in their Potter's Pretties gear, before dropping down to the grass and flashing across the centerline of the pitch.

Harry and Nora blazed after it. The beaters from both teams instantly focused all their attention on them. Rule number seven, or maybe it was eight, in Dimitri's Guide for the Professional Seeker flashed through Harry's mind. No beater, even those on your team are your friends when the match is on the line. If it means taking you out to take out the opposing team's seeker, they'll do it. Harry slowed fractional to let a bludger, launched by the Hippogriff's Mercer, pass in front of him. It just missed taking out the tail of Nora's broom. "Urrgah!" he choked. He pressed himself flat against his broom trying to make up the ground he'd lost.

The snitch raced to the low wall around the bottom of the stadium, rose up about three feet, and then doubled back directly at its pursuers. Harry and Nora strove to reach it first but at the last second it dropped completely to the ground and then launched straight up as the two seekers raced over it. Harry and Nora split apart, one going left and the other right as they paralleled the stadium wall and then began climbing straight up. The snitch led them higher and higher, and then the bottom dropped out of it, pulling the two pursuers over into gigantic loops. Harry and Nora met at the top, their backs nearly touching as they began plummeting back to the ground.

The snitch began corkscrewing its way down and the two seekers followed; barrel-rolling around each other as they corkscrewed after the golden ball in a stomach-clinching display of aerial acrobatics that drew them continually closer to the fleeing orb. Ever faster, the ground raced up as the two seekers accelerated; each refusing to give ground. The snitch drove itself straight into the ground, bounced back up like a crazed rubber ball and darted away. Harry, even though he actually touched down and used his legs as some kind of giant shock absorber, somehow managed to pull out of the dive. The tail of his broom slapped the earth soundly. He could feel the handle flexing under him and he prayed it didn't break, but he was back in the air in a second closing on the snitch.

Alone.

"AND THEY'VE CRASHED AGAIN!" Lee shouted. "No, check that, Potter's still in the air. AND HE'S GOT THE SNITCH! POTTER MAKES HIS FIFTH CATCH OF THE MATCH AND THE HIPPOGRIFFS WIN THREE SEVENTY TO TWO SEVENTY FIVE!"

Harry raced around the stadium, his fist pumping in victory till he was heading directly for the section with friends and family of the Hippogriff players. Just feet above the ground he accelerated to top speed and then jumped off his broom, skidding on his knees across the grass with both arms raised in triumph, the snitch in one hand, his broom in the other, a bellow of sheer joy erupting from his mouth. The entire section of fans whooped and hollered with euphoria; pounded on the stadium seats and generally did anything they could to celebrate as loudly as possible. Fireworks, that Fred and George and surreptitiously placed throughout the stadium, streaked into the sky and exploded into giant pinwheels of blazing light.

As Harry skidded to a stop, he sought out one person in the crowd. The woman with chocolate brown hair, standing on the bottom rung of the railing, leaning as far forward as she could, screaming wildly and pointing with both hands directly at him. He pointed back, and pumped his fist a number of times.

A moment later a screaming banshee launched herself off her broom and tackled him to the ground. The rest of the team was on him a second after Heather. Harry managed to dig himself out from under the mass of people on top of him. His eyes settled on Heather and Leslie. "You two rose to it today," he shouted.

"You bet they did," Luke bellowed. He ducked under Leslie's legs, buckling her knees. She was forced to sit on his shoulder and he lifted her from the ground. Harry did the same to Heather and they turned the two women to the stands. Waving their free hands they exhorted their fans to cheer for the two girls.

The Hippogriff fans erupted in a new round of whistles and shouts and one last rocket streaked into the sky. It exploded with a deafening bang. Harry looked up at the results.

MARRY ME HEATHER?

Heather squeaked and nearly fell before Harry could set her down. "Damn," he muttered. "Damn. Damn. Damn."

"Aw fuck," Luke grumbled. He set Leslie down.

"What in the blazes?" Heather asked, staring up at the now fading apparition.

"What'd you expect?" Kenny Mercer chortled. Heather whirled on him. "Come on, you ain't seen one before? There'll be a dozen of 'em asking Harry the same thing at our home matches."

"Well yeah," she said, "but he's Harry."

Kenny shook his head. "When's the last time you looked in the mirror girl?"

"What's that suppose to mean? she demanded.

"You think I hit on ugly girls or something? You're effin hot, Babe, and there're more men in the stands than women. Get use to it."

Heather turned beat red. She turned to Harry. He was still muttering under his breath. The color drained from her face as quickly as it had risen. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly before opening them again. "Smile," he said to her. "At least they won't be pairing you with him." He jerked his thumb at Kenny. Heather smiled weakly and gave him a slight nod. She'd had a rough couple of weeks with the rags and tomorrow didn't look like it was going to be any better.

"She wishes, she could be paired with me," Kenny quipped.

"Sure she does," Leslie remarked sarcastically. "Who'd want Potter when they could have you instead?"

"Hey, look at 'em. The man's old."

"Old," Harry spluttered.

"Simple little match like this," Kenny continued, "and he looks like he got wiped across the floor in a bar fight. He oughta try playing for ten hours sometime. Shit, I'll bet his winky don't even work half the time no more. How's he gonna keep a girl like, Babe satisfied?"

Heather backhanded Kenny in the stomach, while Luke chortled with glee. Mark, and David were leaning on each other for support but eventually gave up and lay down on the ground on their backs laughing. Leslie just shook her head before starting to giggle. Harry nodded his head slightly, unable to keep a hint of a smile from forming. "Laugh all you want, Mercer," he said. "Just remember to watch your back.

"Whatever you say, boss man," Kenny replied.

Harry glanced up and saw that the Magpie players were slowly making their way towards them. "Line up," he barked suddenly very serious. "Mitts," he said.

"Yes?"

"The only thing worse than poor losers, are poor winners. Lead the way," Harry ordered.

She grinned. "You got it, boss man."