A/N: Thanks to anyone reading this story! Sorry for not updating very quickly. Truth is, I often just forget! Story is definitely finished though and won't be abandoned. If you want quicker updates, feel free to go find the story on AO3. I usually update there first.

Over the next couple of days, Harry focused harder than ever in his training, spurred on by Evan's words. He forced himself to forget his doubts about matching up to the rest of the team and threw himself into everything enthusiastically. He must have shown some sort of improvement, as Emmy pulled him aside at one point to speak to him.

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry about the way I treated you when you arrived," she had said, chewing her lip. "I was a bit unfriendly. I'm just that desperate to win. But I'm glad you're here. You're doing really well."

Harry's new-found confidence even transferred to his sessions with Viktor, and his work on perfecting dives had paid off, as Harry finally managed to pull off one flawless Wronksi Feint (after several more crashes). Viktor had nodded in approval, and even gave him the shadow of a smile.

"Keep going like that and you vill be vunderful in the match," he said, waving his wand to clear away the detritus from Harry's earlier crashes. "But do not get too confident yet. There is lots more hard vork to come."

Harry didn't disagree; his entire body was aching from all the times he'd hit the ground instead of pulling up in time. They began to walk back into the stadium, waiting for the corridor ahead of them to clear; Viktor did not want them to be seen together in case it gave away their secret and wrecked Harry's chances of pulling it off in the match.

"How is the rest of your team?" Viktor asked, as they resumed their journey. "Is training going vell?"

"Really well," Harry said happily. "They're amazing."

"I am actually looking forvards to seeing the game now," Viktor said with a half-smile. "I vos not before. It seems Bulgaria is not to be vinning anything."

"Your team's so good though! You've still got a chance in the future."

Viktor made a face. "Most of us are good," he said. "Some of the new vuns … not so good. Ve are not yet a proper team."

"Proper team?" Harry asked as they left the stadium and began up the path to the Players' Lodge.

Viktor nodded. "A team is not just to be together to be a team. You must all be part of vun being. Even a Seeker, who does not vork vith anyvun else. You do not haff to like each other, haff same interests, but on pitch you move as vun. You must be comfortable vith them all. Know them inside out."

Harry considered these words long after they had said goodbye at the Lodge and was still thinking as he headed upstairs. There was only one member of the team he was not yet comfortable with, but he didn't exactly know what to do about that. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt around them.

The first floor was deserted as the rest of the team were at their gym session. Fowler, not wanting Harry to be too exhausted for their usual training session after flying with Viktor, had agreed to allow Harry to train with him at night after their tactical meeting when everyone else was at the gym, as long as Harry made the time up elsewhere. He saw no one as he headed into his room.

He drew off his protective gear and kicked off his boots, almost too exhausted to bother undressing. As he turned to his bed, however, he saw there was a letter lying there, stamped with the Irish Ministry logo and the word: SCREENED.

Harry's exhaustion faded as he recognised Ron's handwriting and sat down eagerly to read it. He'd decided to copy most of the rest of the players and not read his fan mail after Auror Kane had told him how alarmingly large the pile was growing by the day. The letter was dated a few days ago.

Harry—

You're lucky you're in Ireland you jammy git because I'm about ready to strangle you with jealousy. You're getting to eat Elias Parker's homecooked meals? I hope you choke on them.

In all seriousness mate, this is so cool. It sounds so much fun! I've read your letter like a million times. You're so lucky you've gotten to meet all of them (and no, Charlie and Bill DIDN'T tell me they knew Parker the sneaky sods). Fred and George are ecstatic that Watson and Khatri have bought some of their products. They wanted me to ask you if you can get some sort of sponsorship deal with them. Apparently knowing the Boy Who Lived isn't enough for them.

Mum and dad send their love and mum wants me to say she hopes you're not training too hard, but I'm telling you to ignore that. England hasn't won an international tournament in forever so no amount of training is too much.

Ginny's almost as jealous as I am that you're working with Emmeline Sanderson (do you really call her Emmy?) She's her absolute idol. Unbelievably hot. Get in with her if you can, mate.

Things are good here, if a bit crazy. Hermione arrived yesterday and so did Charlie. Bill and Fleur are here too so we're a bit cramped, especially when Fred and George come round for tea. The place we lived in London last year isn't getting used till it can be checked it's been legally passed to you (did you know he left you everything?) instead of Snuffles' closest relative, so a whole bunch of other people keep dropping in as well. But we're all so excited. There's all sorts of rumours in the Daily Prophet about you and the team, have you seen them? I don't believe most of them. Apparently Karlsson's trying to kill you. Mental.

Pity that Turner's such a weirdo. I don't really know much about him, only that he was the youngest ever player to be signed for the Arrows. He's the reason the Cannons lost that match back in March around my birthday. Not a big fan. Must be terrible sharing a room with him.

Can't wait to see you play! It's going to be so amazing. Write back if you can.

—Ron

P.S. SWEAR TO MERLIN HARRY IF YOU CAN GET ME A MEETING WITH ELIAS PARKER I'LL NEVER COMPLAIN ABOUT ANYTHING EVER AGAIN

Harry laughed as he finished the letter. Hearing Ron's excitement just made his own seem so much sweeter. He was touched at finding out Sirius had left him everything but moved on from it swiftly in case he found himself welling up. The wave of anger he felt as he considered the fact that Bellatrix may have inherited Grimmauld Place took a while to dissipate.

The part about Evan upset him more than he had expected, however. Had he really written that he found Evan weird? It certainly wasn't how he saw him now. Different, perhaps, but not weird.

Before he lost the train of his thought, he grabbed some parchment and a quill and began to write at the desk in the room.

Dear Ron,

Thanks for your letter. It's nice to have a bit of normality around here! Fowler's working us all to the bone and I'm completely exhausted, but the team's looking really good. I think we've got a good chance.

Tell Fred and George I already spoke to Aardash and Nate about the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products and they were really excited to find out I knew the people that run it. They'd actually had the idea for endorsing something too. Probably the Skiving Snackboxes, they said. Nate tried to use a Nosebleed Nougat yesterday to get out of training early, but Fowler didn't bat an eyelid. Don't think he'd care if one of us lost a leg as long as we could still sit on a broom.

And yes, I do call her Emmy. Ginny's right to like her, she's an incredible Chaser. She took me to one side this afternoon to apologise for being a bit off with me and say she thinks I'm doing really well. How cool is that?

How did you do in your OWLs, I forgot to ask? I'm guessing Hermione got ten perfect grades. I got seven OWLs—an O in Defence and Es in everything else I care about. Means I can't take NEWT level Potions though which is the only downer. Not that I like Snape, but I needed it to be an Auror. Wonder how he's taking this by the way?

I wouldn't be surprised if the Daily Prophet's right about Karlsson trying to kill me to be honest. Karlsson hates me. Really hates me. She's been trying to get me kicked off the team and the Swedish team got fined because of it, so I'm guessing she'll hate me even more now. Fowler's got me testing all my food and drink. She's actually terrifying. I'd rather spend time with that portrait of Sirius's mother.

With Evan Turner—I think I might have judged him too early. I know you won't like him since he beat your team, but he's actually nicer than I thought. Just a bit more … reserved, I guess? We've been hanging out a bit and I'm getting to know him a little better.

Hope everyone's okay and let them know I can't wait to see them.

Harry

P.S. Don't worry, I'll think of a way to get you and Elias in the same room!

Harry finished and read it back, satisfied. He wondered about putting in a bit about training with Viktor but thought Ron wouldn't be pleased to hear that name again. Plus, he wasn't sure how well he could trust the Irish Aurors who were screening his mail not to leak that information to the Swedish team.

He also hesitated over what he wrote about Evan. Again, as it had last time, it didn't seem right. It wasn't enough. Though, he thought to himself, if he was to put in words exactly how he was feeling about Evan (if he could even work that out) he guessed Ron would be as freaked out as he was.

As Harry was rolling this letter up to prepare to send it, the door opened and Evan himself walked in. He didn't look at Harry, but just started to strip off his sweaty clothes from the gym and pull on fresh ones. Harry found his eye being drawn towards him, seeing a thin layer of sweat glistening over his lightly muscled arms and chest as he pulled on a new shirt. He found the sight utterly fascinating. Evan's eyes turned in Harry's general direction and Harry looked away quickly with a blush.

What was wrong with him?

Evan continued getting dressed and when done, began to head towards the door as Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief. For some reason, he always felt a little strange when Evan changed in front of him. But Evan paused in the doorway and looked back.

"I'm going for a walk around the gardens," he said, his eyes darting from side to side, as though he was nervous of all things. "You're welcome to come, if you like."

Harry stared at him. This was a new development. Running into him unexpectedly was one thing, but choosing to spend time with him? He hadn't anticipated this.

He also hadn't anticipated how much he wanted to.

"Okay," Harry said, rising from his chair, abandoning his letter for the moment. Evan's mouth stretched out briefly into a smile before snapping back into his usual indifferent expression.

They walked side-by-side down the corridor, Harry feeling a little light-headed at his sudden decision to come, despite all the strange things he felt around this boy. The two of them headed downstairs, through the crowded lobby and out into the darkening gardens. For some reason, Harry felt a little self-conscious as they passed all the other witches and wizards, though he couldn't figure out why. What was so unusual about two teammates going for a walk together?

As it always did, the garden forced a sense of calm over Harry's mind, and he almost smiled as they set off down one of the paths. Fairies were glowing in the bushes as they walked, and the night time flowers were beginning to open and release their scents. By his side, Evan walked slowly, not saying a word, but a peace seemed to have fallen over him too, for his face became less rigid and he sighed softly.

The garden jarvey slunk out on the path in front of them, flicking its bushy tail in annoyance. "Four-eyed freak!" it snarled at Harry, before turning its attention to Evan. "Freckle face! Four-eyed freak and freckle face! Fecking wizards! Fecking four-eyed freaky freckle face wizards!"

The jarvey scurried off into the shrubs, and after a moment of stunned silence, the two of them burst out laughing. Harry liked the sound of Evan's laugh. It didn't sound like something he did often.

They fell into silence again, and Harry began desperately to think of something to say. He thought of what Viktor had said about getting to know your team. He wanted to be comfortable around Evan, he wanted to learn more about him. But his mouth was getting ridiculously dry.

"So um," he started, a bit lamely, "you're sixteen, right? Why don't you go to Hogwarts?"

If he'd thought this was a safe question to ask, he was wrong, because Evan's expression darkened slightly. He gestured for them both to go and sit on the grass, beneath the same tree Harry had seen him beneath that first morning. The earth was still radiating some warmth from the hot day, and Evan played with some blades of grass before he answered.

"I was supposed to," he said slowly, "but … things happened. I got hurt as a kid and because of that … and a few other things, I wasn't ready to go when I was eleven."

Harry frowned. He didn't like the thought of Evan being hurt. He wondered if this was something to do with the 'troubles' Evan went into the woods to meditate about. He also remembered back to the conversation in their room the other day, when Evan had mentioned that he used to get injured a lot.

"You're better now though, right?" Harry asked. He certainly hadn't seen any sign of injuries when he was watching—that is, catching a glimpse of Evan getting changed.

"Physically, yes," Evan said, still avoiding looking at him. "But it's been so long now that I never really thought of going. And I don't know if I could. No one really joins unless they're in first year, do they?"

Harry couldn't remember it happening, but he was certain there must be some way of doing it.

"No, but I'm sure Dumbledore would let you," he said. "He's great like that. My friend, he's a werewolf, and he never thought he could go to school until Dumbledore arranged things so that he could. And my friend Hagrid is half-giant, but Dumbledore gave him a job as professor, even though he never finished school."

Evan looked up, suddenly interested. "Really?"

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling. "He'd never turn someone away."

Evan smiled back but sighed a moment later. "I don't think I could, though," he said sadly. "I've been home schooled so I can use magic and all, but I think I'd just stick out." He shot Harry another look. "It's like you said the other day about flying professionally. You've been formally trained in magic, I haven't. Suddenly showing up for sixth year would be a bit too daunting for me."

"But telling me I shouldn't worry about flying against the best players in Europe is okay?" Harry pointed out. "If I can do it, you can."

Evan tilted his head up and looked at the leaves above his head, exposing a long throat and prominent Adam's apple.

"There's other things in the way though," he said softly. "My parents for one. They'd think Hogwarts is too dangerous for me."

"Dangerous?" Harry asked, nonplussed. "Not any more than letting you play Quidditch. I mean yeah, there's a few times I've been in danger there, but most students are fine, unless you count the basilisk in second year, and the dementors in third year. Or even the Triwizard Tournament. But it's the safest place there is, especially with Dumbledore around."

Evan shook his head, causing the curling hair around his ears to bounce slightly. "That's not really what I meant."

Harry waited, wondering if he would explain himself, but he didn't. Far from learning more about Evan, he was growing ever more confused in his presence. And not just because of what he was saying. The sight of Evan sitting there entirely still staring up into the sky like an exquisitely carved statue was strangely arresting.

"This Triwizard Tournament," Evan said abruptly, bringing his head back down to look somewhere in the region of Harry's right shoulder. "It's how you met Viktor Krum?"

"Yeah," Harry said, glad to get back to some more comfortable conversation. "He was the Champion for Durmstrang and I was one of the ones for Hogwarts."

"I remember reading about it," Evan said, beginning to frown slightly. "It sounded terrifying."

"Yeah," Harry said, surprising himself by how boastful he was starting to sound, "but I survived."

"And now you're training with him," Evan said. His frown grew deeper. "That's a really dangerous move you're trying. It could go badly wrong."

Still feeling a little like he wanted to show off, Harry couldn't help but say, "I know, but it's a good opportunity. I've wanted to try it for years. If the risk pays off, we could have a great advantage."

"Are you always that reckless with your life?" Evan asked, lips twisting together. "It seems like you choose to take a lot of risks."

Harry's eyes widened as he realised that Evan was worried about him. That thought caused a strange swelling sensation to start filling his chest.

He tried to shrug it off. "Not really, risks just seem to find me, and I take them. Must be the Gryffindor in me."

"Gryffindor? That's one of the school houses, right?"

Harry quite gladly fell into easy conversation with Evan all about the Hogwarts houses, and the school in general, soon babbling on about classes and professors, and even some of the facts about the school he'd absorbed from Hermione over the years, sounding more and more like he was reciting large passages of Hogwarts: A History.

Evan listened to all of it, and slowly, he raised his eyes from Harry's shoulder to look at him properly, a small smile beginning to grow on his lips. As he talked, Harry began to wonder just what house Evan would be in. He was certainly ambitious enough to be a Slytherin, having gotten onto a professional Quidditch team so young, but it didn't seem to suit. He wasn't sure exactly how smart he was to be confident he could be a Ravenclaw, and judging by his worry about Harry's risk taking, he wasn't sure he was a Gryffindor. Did that leave Hufflepuff? He was definitely hardworking enough, judging by what he'd seen.

His voice began to trail off as he considered it. Evan looked at him questioningly.

"I'm just trying to work out what house you'd be in," Harry said, explaining. "I can't figure it out, but I think Hufflepuff."

Evan smiled. "Maybe. But I don't think we'll find out. I won't ever be going to Hogwarts."

That thought made Harry inexorably sad as they finally stood up and headed back inside. Once back up in their room, Harry purposefully looked away as Evan undressed for bed, looking instead at letter to Ron, finally sealing and addressing it, ready to take to the mail room in the morning before undressing himself as swiftly as he could.

"By the way," Evan said, causing Harry to turn around, "I have something for you."

He was holding out an object which Harry immediately recognised as a pair of omnioculars.

"I recorded you flying when Fowler had me sitting out," he said, looking at the floor, colour rising to his cheeks. "I thought, since you don't believe me when I say you fly as well as a professional, I'd show you instead."

Harry took the omnioculars, feeling slightly dazed. A warm feeling was rising through his body, from his toes to his chest. Evan smiled briefly and turned back to his bed, diving under the covers as if he'd suddenly caught a chill.

Harry climbed into his own bed before lifting the lenses to his eyes and fiddling with the knobs. Immediately, it began a playback of some of Harry's dives from their training earlier than afternoon, and Harry twisted and turned the dials to replay them over and over again, in slow motion and then full speed. At first, he couldn't believe this player was him until he slowed it down. Did he really move like that? He'd never seen himself like this before. His posture on the broom was as perfect as he'd seen Viktor using earlier that day, and the control was incredible. Was this really what others saw when he flew? He couldn't stop the wide grin from breaking out on his face.

He laid the omnioculars aside, deeply affected by what he'd seen, all the more so for Evan being the one to show him. The fact that he'd thought of this, carried it out, focused so intently on him …

Harry turned his head to the other bed, seeing Evan was lying watching him. As he noticed Harry looking, he quickly turned away to face the wall, lifting the sheets so they covered everything except the tip of his blond head.

Is this how Evan sees me, Harry wondered incredulously, as he began to drift off to sleep, head still facing Evan's bed.