Author's Notes: JKR has plenty of time and the legal right to write more Harry Potter if she wants to.
- Sorry for the long delay. Promise I'm not abandoning this story, but school is a little more intense than I originally thought. Happy back to school everyone!
- random thought: How old was Regulus when he found out about Voldemort's horcrux, and how low-ranking was he? He was Sirius's younger brother, and probably still in school at the time, and no help from Dumbledore. He'd make a good "teen wizard detective" character/series, TBH.
Chapter 53: The More Things Change…
All eyes were on Harry as they waited in the champion's tent at the entrance to Corrieshalloch Gorge. Fleur had the same broom as last time- a Cloudrunner Hurricaine. Hers was a top-quality broom and the absolute opposite of his. She was definitely holding back her laughter as she eyed Harry's hand-made broom. Harry unconsciously started preening its feathers; not that it really helped.
Ivan wasn't much of a flier- too tall, too bulky, and holding a relatively underpowered Nimbus Two Thousand and Two. It may have been the best that the Nimbus company had to offer, but it was still no match for a Firebolt. That didn't stop him from smirking at Harry as well.
Neither of Harry's competitors said a word, though, as the judges were arguing over whether or not Harry's broom actually counted as a broom or not. Nobody in the wizarding world had ever seen anything like it. On one hand, it clearly was neither a flying carpet nor a muggle contraption, and it did have a shaft in the middle for someone to sit on. On the other hand… it had feathers.
"We'll allow this," the head referee declared. "But only because nobody's seen one of these before and if you squint really hard, there's not much of a difference between feathers and bristles. We'll have a final decision from the Department of Magical Sports and Games by this evening. For now, we can race!" Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
Ludo Bagman then explained what was happening in the Trial of Air. Much like before, it was a combination of a race and aerial obstacle course, so Harry paid more attention to his broom than to Bagman. His ears perked up, though, when Bagman was explaining, "…golden egg from three particularly vicious griffinette dens. Don't let their size fool you… they attack in numbers and are just as dangerous as their full-size cousins."
"Wait, what about the zuu?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"Oh… you know about that?" Bagman looked more embarrassed than surprised. "There was a slight… change of plans last week. We've decided to use more of the local wildlife, even if they are a little more challenging than what we had originally planned."
"In ozzer words, your own director of international relations being arrested eez not good for international relations," Fleur jabbed at Bagman. Harry recalled that the zuu was actually Persian beast. If that thing had been considered the "safe" alternative to griffinettes, then he didn't want to know how much more dangerous the race was this time. Fleur had enough trouble with the big bird last time, and if things were any harder, Harry suspected she might not be able to walk away from this event with an egg at all.
The other two champions stood at the starting line, looking extremely confident. Ignorance is bliss, thought Harry. As Bagman's green flare erupted from his wand, Harry took an early lead as he shot from the starting line. Pressing his body low against the shaft, he gripped his broom with both hands as hard as he could, fighting to stay on under the extreme acceleration. He didn't bother looking back- Ivan was no match, he knew, and Fleur might have a higher top speed, but she couldn't accelerate the way he did.
The first two obstacles were just as he remembered them. First, a net strung across the entire canyon- no need for a spell, as he kept low to the canyon floor and bypassed it completely. The maze-like pile of thick logs was the true test of his broom's manoeuvrability. Barely slowing down, Harry tucked his elbows and legs in and began dodging. This was exactly what he wanted out of his broom- the quick, jerking movements nearly threw him off the broom multiple times but wouldn't have been possible even with his Firebolt. Favouring a stronger grip instead of casting spells, Harry's adrenaline focused his vision into searching for the tiniest gaps of which he had milliseconds to react to at the speed he was moving at. Up, down, twist, left, ouch as he scraped his shoulder, right, flip, wince as he scraped a few feathers on a tight turn, left, down down up, and he was free!
His broom felt a little wobbly. With nobody else in sight, he could afford to slow down a little. Taking a peek at the back of his broom, he noticed one group of feathers was badly mangled and messing up his flight. Next time, he wouldn't skimp on the durability charms, but it was too late to fix that now. He ripped off the bundle of seven feathers and felt his broom stabilize. He didn't like having to sacrifice his top speed so early in the race, but there were no quick fixes for abraxian feathers.
A loud screech brought Harry's attention up front once again. He'd arrived at the harpy nests. The first few had already alerted others to his presence and they were getting ready to swarm him. He released his wand from his holster into his left hand as the first harpy launched itself at him, shrieking the whole way. Harry dodged, and nearly lost his grip. He cast a sticking charm on his right hand before trying to dodge again. Probably should have spent more time flying this broom one-handed, he realized. "Ventascindo!" The blade of wind carved a path for him which he followed closely, but the spell also left a trail of turbulent air behind its path. Harry needed to get away from the harpies before Ivan and Fleur caught up, though. "Ventascindo!" he cried again, retracting his wand and grasping the handle with both hands, fighting through the chaotic winds he created. That second spell gave him just enough leeway to dodge the last of the harpies, and he sped off.
After a long, easy cruise until he reached the narrow ravine. He expected Fleur to catch up fairly soon, as open-air flying was her strength. If he fought his way through the ravine one more time, she was sure to pass him. Being first in an obstacle course sucks, he thought. I have to do all the work for them. He eyed the many giant weaver webs that were strung across the area. Last time, Fleur had dealt with all of them herself- maybe Harry could do it too. A simple cutting charm would probably get the webs out of the way, and casting a deafening charm on himself would let him ignore the bats that roosted there.
A few slashes from his wand and spiders were dropping down left and right, though most of them were quickly scrambling back up the cliff face and ready to take vengeance on their attacker. Hermione had told him they were carnivorous, and often liquefied their prey alive with digestive venoms. Harry didn't want to stick around to find out. The bats, on the other hand, were assaulting him with their resonating screams, and his muffling charm was doing its job protecting his ears. However, that wasn't all they affected. His broom was starting to vibrate, along with the cliff face. A few loose pebbles were starting to pelt him, while a few loose feathers were falling off his broom. He made it out, though a little short on breath and feathers. The sound of the bats getting riled up again told him someone else was approaching- Fleur, most likely.
Harry decided to concentrate on the next obstacle, which his broom was nearly tailored for. The wind-buffeted stretch of the race was the one part Harry had been looking forward to. This time, instead of using smoke to show the way, he simply let the broom get pushed around and drifted wherever the air currents were sweeping him. He only made sure not to crash into the ground or fly out of bounds. It was very much like kayaking down white-water rapids- not that Harry had ever tried it before, but without fighting to stay in a straight line, his erratic flight path ended up being faster than a more direct route.
With one long straightaway to the griffinette nests, Harry expected Fleur to catch up at any moment- and she did. They arrived at almost the same moment, stopping about a hundred meters from the nests. Both of them spied three glinting gold eggs scattered around the cliffs. A hundred beady eyes were staring at them cautiously. "Zat was some impressive flying, Monsieur Potter. Would you like to go first?" Harry could feel a little bit of her veela aura nudging him into agreement.
Harry knew she just wanted use him as a distraction since she'd never want to charge in with that broom of hers. He didn't want to waste any more time, so he decided to play along. "Why, certainly, m'lady," he replied, putting on a dopey smile. He shot forward, quickly formulating a plan. He could probably take them on the same way he fought off the harpies. A sticking charm to his right hand and a wind-splitting hex towards the bolder beasts gave him a clear path towards the first egg... for two seconds. Harry tried again, but before he could get a spell off, one griffinette swooped in from the side and snapped at his arm. He had to cut his casting short and roll away just to keep his wand intact.
"Clever girl," Harry muttered, noticing that the beasts weren't attacking haphazardly like the harpies did. They regrouped and circled around him, no doubt preparing to assault from all directions at once. Clearly, they were more organized and intelligent- not to mention having twice as many claws. Where was Fleur? Harry thought he could turn the trap around on her, but she was nowhere to be found. As the first griffinette dive-bombed him, Harry swooped to the walls of the gorge and shot towards the egg on the far left, hugging the cliff face as he went. Now they could only attack from one side, and he could better protect his wand. He tucked in, casting cyclone and wind spells to disrupt his attackers while keeping the egg in sight.
Harry retracted his wand into his holster to snatch the egg up when the egg floated out of its nest. A slight shimmer told him everything he needed to know. Fleur, seeing Harry and two dozen griffinettes baring down on her, lost her composure for a second and dropped the egg. Perfect. Harry deliberately waited until the last second to change direction, buzzing by Fleur before dropping straight down to snatch it. A female scream followed by some birdlike shrieks told him the plan went perfectly.
Safely cushioning the egg just before it hit the ground, Harry breathed a sigh of relief for only an instant. A strong set of talons dug into his right shoulder. His flinch thankfully protected his head from the griffonette's beak. Trying to swat the animal away with his right hand, he forgot that it was still stuck to the broom and ended up flipping end-over-end. Luckily, that was enough to shake it off, but its friends were attacking as well.
Elbowing one away with his left hand as another dug its claws into his leg, Harry deliberately rammed himself into the rock face. He heard the slight crack of wood and noted his broom wasn't quite as solid as it was a moment ago. Without any free hands to cast spells, he resorted to tackling, kicking, and ramming the beasts as they continued to claw at him. As he put more distance between himself and the nests, most of them returned, though a few still decided to give chase. His broom was a little shaky and almost about to fall apart, but he couldn't slow down or his feathery friends would tear it to shreds.
He passed by Ivan as he approached the perpetually turbulent section of the race. The bulky boy smirked at Harry's ragged appearance and damaged broom, but Harry didn't mind. It just meant Ivan didn't know what he was in for. Thankfully, the crossing of paths meant the last of the griffinettes gave up the pursuit on Harry and switched over to Ivan. The rest of the flight was a hard fight, even though it was slower. The damage to the broom made it difficult to control. He didn't want to risk falling out of the sky, but the repair charm only barely kept the broom together. He moved through all the obstacles more carefully and disillusioned himself against the harpies, afraid that the slightest bump would cause everything to explode in a shower of wood chips and feathers. Despite his cautious pace, Fleur never managed to catch up at all throughout the race. Harry had expected her to take the lead eventually.
His feet touched ground and he was exhausted, bloody, and ready to collapse. When he let go of his broom, he could see the giant crack running along the shaft; the entire thing was held together by splinters. Almost three-quarters of the feather clusters had been damaged or ripped off completely. He could barely hear the cheers of the crowds. A supportive hand on his arm almost went unnoticed until he was dragged to the medical tent.
It took nearly an hour, but he walked out fully healed. Despite the massive injuries, they were all quickly healed with basic blood-replenishing and dittany potions, and some Skele-Gro to take care of hairline fractures. Harry wondered why nobody neither champion had returned yet. In the meantime, he decided to search for Sirius, Hermione and Ron in the crowds. He spotted them at one of the top boxes and climbed the stairs all the way up, his broom being in too poor a condition for him to risk the short flight.
"What'd I miss?" Harry asked.
"Hermione fainting," Ron chuckled.
"I did not!" she protested. "It just got so scary I had to close my eyes for a second. You weren't even paying attention!"
"Yes I was! I kept my eyes on the image the entire time!"
Sirius barked with laughter. "Only when Fleur being shown. I didn't know the veela aura could work through projected images." Ron turned beet red with that comment, but Sirius ignored it. "You remind me of James more and more, Harry. Especially after he started dating Lily. He toned down the stupid pranks but he stayed… competitive in Quidditch. Maybe a little too much for Lily's tastes. I think you've set the Potter family record for the craziest stunts in the air."
"Yeah, it was a little iffy out there," Harry admitted.
"Iffy? You call flying on a broken stick for more than fifty kilometres a little iffy? Let me see that broom," she said, snatching it out of his hands. The simple motion caused it to creak. "Harry, this thing isn't even straight any more. I can't believe you managed to convince me this was a good idea."
"I wouldn't have believed him if he told me he outgrew my Christmas present in a year. But after seeing him fly… well, I think it was worth it."
"It was a good learning experience," Harry laughed. "I've already got a list of improvements in my head."
"You know, Harry, aside from the… quality issues, you could do pretty well selling those brooms," Sirius suggested. "I know the Black family name isn't quite what it used to be, but our family has always meant business. Your showing here is pretty amazing, I mean, that Ivan fellow is only just arriving with his Nimbus 2002."
He pointed up at the projected image, where the Durmstrang champion was finally passing through the maze of logs. Fleur was right beside him, strangely enough. It looked like they weren't trying to pass each other, though- and each still had their wands in hand, casting spell after spell behind them. Both were looking even worse than Harry had been, with scratches and bite marks all over.
"What are they doing?" Harry asked. "Are they working together? Is that even allowed?"
"It was the only way either of them could get the eggs," Sirius answered. "And boy, those things are vicious. I think it would have been easier to wrestle a gryphon than a pack of griffinettes. I can keep track of four big claws, forty is a bit tougher."
"Statistically, the annual number of deaths by griffinettes is about three times higher than by gryphons, according to the Malicious Magical Monsters Fact Book. It could be because they're deceptively cute."
"I'll never make that mistake," Harry declared. "Is that… did they follow them the entire way here?" He pointed as a flock of griffinettes emerged from the maze, just behind the other champions.
"Yeah, they've been following the two of them. Both their brooms are broken, and they're moving slowly, but as long as they stick together they can hold them off. Neither of them wants to try to pull ahead… not yet, at least," Sirius answered.
"Ivan and Fleur managed to destroy most of their nests in the process of trying to get the golden eggs. I think they're out for revenge," Hermione added.
"Are you sure they won't start attacking the spectators when they get here?" Harry pointed out.
"Nah, the organizers of the tournament can't be that incompetent," Sirius reassured them. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and drew their wands. Fleur and Ivan would both be rounding the final bend any second now.
Both of them abandoned their attempts to fight off the griffinettes with teamwork as they came into sight and pushed their brooms to get the lead. Ivan was still casting, while Fleur decided to just concentrate on flying as fast as possible. Her decision cost her, though, as one of the animals snagged her bristles, causing her to veer dangerously. Her broom, heavily damaged and rapidly losing its floatation charm, was falling apart. "She's not going to make it," Harry breathed out.
"She'll be fine," Sirius waved him off, his eyes fixed on the racers.
"As long as the mediwitches can get to her in time, you mean," Hermione said. "You should be more worried about everyone else. I don't think tournament security was prepared for more than three living things crossing the finish line."
Surely enough, Fleur skidded into the ground just past the finish after Ivan, but well over fifty griffinettes were now trying to claw at the champions. The security wizards, more used to keeping unruly crowds in line, didn't know how to deal with the flock of angry bird-lion hybrids. Moody, being head of security, was equally unprepared for the prospect of fighting non-humans.
"So… should we… help them?"
Ron, on the other hand, was already leaping down the stairs. Harry and Hermione had no choice but to follow. "Oi! You keep your filthy claws off her!" he shouted, casting stunning spells haphazardly into the fray. Perhaps the veela charm still worked when she was unconscious, too. Unfortunately for him, one of his spells zipped a little too close to Mad-Eye's cheek. The old man was just hitting his stride again, and the spell made him instinctively whip off a bone-removal curse at Ron, striking the boy in his arm. Ron collapsed in surprise as his arm flopped down like a rubber glove.
"You're in for one disgusting recovery, Ron," Harry said once he caught up. "At least it was a competent professor that did it to you."
"You kids always put yourselves in messes like this?" Moody growled behind them. "Jumping into a fight just means you're going to get hurt. Think about that while you sip your Skele-Gro for the next few days." The flock was being scared back towards their home by the security team, who now had the situation under control.
"What am I doing down here?" Ron asked, coming to his senses as Fleur was now safely tucked away inside the medical tent. "Oh bugger all, I've made a fool of myself again because of the veela, haven't I?"
"Her name's Fleur. You could try blocking it out, you know. Like Moody. Or me." Harry couldn't fault Ron for it too much, though. Upon closer review, most of the security team hadn't positioned themselves to protect the general public, but to defend one silvery-haired champion. "I'm going to go talk to the other two champions for a bit. Maybe I could put in a good word for you."
"You'd do that for me?" Ron's eyes lit up with hope.
I'll eat my wand if Fleur ever willingly dates Ron. Might be funny to watch, though, Harry thought. He just waved nonchalantly to his friends before poking his head into the tent. "How are you two doing?"
Ivan only snarled angrily in reply. Harry turned to Fleur instead, who was regarding him angrily, but respectfully. "You pulled some very dirty treeks during ze race, Monsier Potter. You are unlike ze 'ero my sister reads about."
Harry only laughed. "I'm afraid you're going to have to do more than read storybooks to know what you're up against."
"So you're not a dragon-hunter, slayer of dark lords, or protector of young children?"
"No, yes, and not yet."
"Can I add inventor to zat? Your broom was… intriguing."
"I guess so. I don't really spend time thinking up inventions, though. I only made it because my old broom wasn't performing as well as I liked."
"And what broom was zat?"
"Firebolt."
Fleur nearly spat out the potion she was drinking. "I suppose you will be a professional Quidditch player when you finish school, non? It is good to 'ave your life laid out for you."
"Nah. I'm not sure if it's a good use of my time." He wasn't entirely put off by the idea. He was already a celebrity, but becoming even more influential through Quidditch fame could get more things accomplished… like exposing Voldemort to the public and forcing people to take action against him.
"You could easily be ze greatest star in all of Quidditch wiz your skills. You could comfortably retire at ze age of thirty… and you would turn that down?" Fleur asked cautiously. "Ze more I talk to you, ze less I seem to know."
"I'm sure I could be," Harry said. "But what about you? You could easily be a successful fashion model for Witch Weekly… or, dare I say it, you could just charm some rich old fool. But you don't want that, do you?"
Fleur gave him an understanding nod. "I see. Fame alone is nothing to you, is it?"
"Not unless I can do something with it. I can't change the world if I'm too busy playing games."
Ivan, who was apparently listening in on their conversation, finally piped up. "And the tournament. Is this just a game to you?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right. Someone else entered my name. I certainly didn't. I have other things to take care of… tutoring other students, training, learning. This tournament is getting in the way of that, to be honest."
"So you don't care if you win? Why do you try at all?" Fleur asked.
"Oh, it's good training. It's not so much about winning the tournament, as much as it is about proving to myself that I'm strong enough to face a few challenges. I won't be going easy on you two." For the first time since his name was drawn, the two older champions took him as a serious threat. To Harry, he knew the tournament was rather limited in its usefulness. If he had to do this another time, it would be less and less useful to developing his general skill levels. For now, it still offered some challenges to him despite his advance knowledge. Beating his competition would just happen to be a side effect of doing very well.
Back at school the next day, Harry was lauded as a hero. Being labelled the underdog for the past month, everyone had low expectations of the British champion. The seemingly come-from-behind win that Harry achieved lifted the spirits of not only Hogwarts, but all of magical Britain as well. He held an even more commanding lead than last time in the scoreboards, due to a slight scoring change with only three champions. Some over-enthusiastic fans were already declaring victory, despite having six more trials and the final task to get through. Still, there was not a bad word to be said about him, and nothing proved it more than when the Slytherins came to shake hands with him, lead by Blaise.
"Potter. I think you've truly proven yourself as a champion today. I think if Malfoy were still here, he'd be doing something to try to steal your glory, but since he isn't, we're here to extend our support. If there's anything the Slytherin house can do to help, just ask." The dark-skinned boy seemed to be genuinely interested in helping. Probably with an ulterior motive like getting into the good graces of the already-famous Harry Potter, of course, but he wasn't hiding that. Harry had noticed him networking with the foreign students fairly often as well. He wondered if Draco would have ever done something like this, but brushed that thought away. Draco was always interested in being handed power, like his two gooneys, not working to earn his way up like Blaise was doing now. Harry could actually learn something or two from this boy.
Their hands met and shook with a firm grip. There was no animosity, nor veiled threat like the way Marcus Flint had shaken during Quidditch games. It was simply starting a good business deal, and Harry had a proposal to make. "So, there is something I could use your help with," he said. "All of you. Two things, actually."
"Go on."
"First, I'm inviting you to join SNAPE Society. Hermione and I started it to teach some of our skills to other students, but we found everyone has some expertise that others could learn from- everything from potions to housekeeping charms to cooking. It's been growing quite rapidly and, quite frankly, I think it's everyone's loss by leaving a quarter of the school population. What do you say?"
"Well, I'd be delighted, Mr. Potter," Daphne Greengrass said, extending her hand out, palm down.
For a second, Harry was dumbfounded. He was about to take her hand to shake it, when Blaise laughed and stopped him. "You're supposed to kiss it." Feeling slightly embarrassed, Harry took her hand and bent over like in the shows he spied on the telly, kissing her hand lightly.
"And your lips aren't actually supposed to touch my hand," Daphne sighed. "It looks like I could host a class on proper formal etiquette. No boy from Hogwarts has any chance of impressing a girl from Beauxbatons without it. Let's just hope you haven't all made fools of yourselves already."
"Where do we meet?"
"The next meeting is tomorrow afternoon, up on the seventh floor near the tapestry with the dancing trolls. The subject is going to be beginner's duelling."
Blaise and most of the other boys nodded approvingly. "And you mentioned a second request, Harry?"
"Yeah, get your head of house to stop looking at me like that," he said, nodding over at the staff table. While all the other staff were amused and hopeful about the newfound friendship between former enemies, Snape naturally disapproved of all things Potter.
"We can try… but no guarantees. What did you do to him, anyway, Potter? It's like he goes out of his way to hate you. Did you insult his mother or something?"
"I really don't know. If you could find that out, too, it'd be great."
The Room of Requirement seemed to know in advance that there would be more people coming, and Harry walked into a slightly larger space than usual. It filled up quickly with the usual members, but Harry spied about ten faces he'd never seen before. He realized that his entire experience with the Slytherin house had been tainted by Malfoy and Snape; the rest were as unknown to him as many of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had been a few weeks ago. More pertinently, he noticed that nearly all of the Slytherins he knew the names of, like Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, and Malfoy weren't present. The only ones he did know were Zabini and Greengrass.
"I can't believe you're doing this, mate. We had such a big advantage over the competition and you let them in on it?" Ron expressed his disapproval in a low voice.
"School's not about the competition, Ron," Harry answered. Hermione gave him a strange look. "Okay, fine, it is a competition for some people, but it's not about whether or not you can beat someone in a duel." A few people overheard him and now had their eyes on him questioningly. Harry sighed. "Okay, yes, I do have to get through a few duels, but what I'm trying to say is that there's more to life than just school and spellwork, alright? Meet new people, see the world, and all that jazz. Who knows, you might even meet the love of your life somewhere in there."
Ron snorted. "Not bloody likely."
"Just give it a try, will you?"
With all the new students, Harry decided to use the class to review their skills and gauge where the Slytherins stood. Secretly, he also wanted to know if he could consistently beat Cedric, since the duels were coming up, but he wasn't sure if Cedric had been training more intensely when he had been a champion. He wondered if the Slytherins had anything to teach him… but duelling seemed to be more of a Gryffindor interest, he had to admit.
The rest of the hour revealed no surprises. Naturally, some were uneasy with working with the house of snakes, but people kept their tempers in check when they saw that Harry was fine with teaching them. Everyone was progressing nicely; Harry himself was still able to get some good practice against the seventh-years. When it ended, Blaise had a satisfied smile on his face. "That was more civilized than I expected, Mr. Potter."
"Glad to hear that. I was actually afraid of a few real fights breaking out myself. Did you learn anything?"
"Yes, actually. Most importantly, the fact that our chances of winning the tournament are actually quite high. Do you know how often Professor Snape calls you a self-centered, unskilled, brat? Most of the house believes him. You're lucky I prefer not to let others lead me blind."
Tracey Davis stepped in, still a little out of breath from the intense magical workout that she wasn't used to. "You really do know your stuff, Potter. You pretty much proved our head of house wrong in only an hour."
Daphne was straightening her hair as she approached them, having clearly not worked as hard as her friend this past hour. Harry suspected she didn't want to show off all her skills- or maybe she just didn't enjoy getting sweaty. "Yes, if my father had heard someone saying something like that about me, he'd probably challenge them to an honour duel."
"Oh, I'd like that," Harry replied. "Hey, Hermione, are honour duels actually allowed at Hogwarts?"
Hermione just raised an eyebrow and frowned.
Daphne gawked at him. "I was only joking, Potter. Dear Merlin, you think for a second that a Gryffindor actually has brains…"
"Hey, it's not like I'm trying to take on Dumbledore, here," Harry said, as if it were a legitimate excuse. He had to stop himself and wonder- did he really have what it took to take on Snape? He'd never seen Snape in action, although he did know the man served Voldemort at one point- and was unlikely to be a pushover based on that alone. Then again, if he couldn't beat Snape, he didn't have a chance against Voldemort. "You know what? I'd like to face him."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't bet on it, Potter."
"I would! I'll wager a year's subscription of the Quibbler for the winner!" Harry didn't have to turn around to know who that was.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he sighed. "I'll wear radish earrings for a year if I do lose to him." Luna's support actually convinced him that it was a silly idea after all. There was no need to stir up another hornet's nest so soon.
Author's Chapter End Notes:
- I hope the Trial of Air wasn't too much of a repeat of last time. As is the problem with time loop stories, things get boring fast if it's all the same, but then there's not much of a point of doing a time loop if a few familiar things don't happen. Trying to find a good balance.
- One reason I've made Harry good enough to exceed the Firebolt is mostly because he's invincible on a broom in canon. Barring interference, like a charmed bludger or dementors, Harry just can't lose in Quidditch. Funny how he didn't do any real flying in the last book; it was his one thing he could win on skill instead of luck.
