Harry was in a particularly secluded section of the library, poring over one of his Charms books, as he was trying to ignore the tight knot he was feeling in his chest. On his right side, Nym was sitting with an essay of her own open in front of her, but she was had long given up trying to finish it. She looked over to the boy and broached the topic that was definitely on both of their minds. "So, Harry, how're you holding up? Tomorrow's a big day, and it's normal to feel nervous or afraid." She reassured.

Harry didn't respond at first. A moment later, he looked up at her, closing his textbook as he did so. "But I'll be on a broom, in front of the entire school, about fifteen metres in the air. And to make it even worse, I'm going to be the smallest person there. What if I let the team down?" He quickly turned even more worried. He wanted to do his best on the Quidditch team, and to live up to the legacy set by his father. It was less about the fame, and more about wanting something that would connect him to his parents other than just the bloody scar on his forehead. But that was now threatened by the very likely possibility that he would embarrass himself in front of his entire school. "The game is tomorrow, and I have no idea what to do."

Nym shook her head lightly. 'Of all things, I didn't think performance anxiety was something he might suffer from.' "Harry Potter, you charged at a troll headfirst, and a Quidditch game has you shaking in your boots?"Harry's lips quirked slightly. "I don't think that's hardly a fair comparison. All I really did was run away from the troll before Hermione hit it with her spell. She ended up helping me more than I actually helped her."

"Harry, it's no coincidence that you were the only person in the school who went to help her either. You were the only one who remembered while everyone else panicked, you were the only one stubborn enough to break the rules, but most importantly, you were the only one who wasn't afraid of the troll, or at least not more so than you were afraid it might hurt another student." Tonks smirked as she noticed how the boy's ears seemed to flare red as she spoke. If she didn't know better, she would've sworn he was a Metamorphmagus just like her. "And I know that you might be worried, but it's just a game. The entire school faculty will be there to make sure that no one gets hurt too terribly, and Madam Pomfrey is always close by." She promised, before throwing her arm over his shoulder. "And, I haven't seen you in action, but if I know anything about old McGonagall, she would never pick you unless she was absolutely sure that you're the best seeker in all of Gryffindor. She might not seem like it, but she's really big on the Quidditch season."

Harry couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips as the girl lifted his spirits. "T-Thanks, but I don't think I'm nearly as good as everyone seems to think I am for some reason. I just don't want to let everyone down."

"Well, you just need to do your best Harry. That's all you can do, and trust me, that'll be more than enough. Plus, it isn't all up to you, you know. The entire Gryffindor team is going to be up there and all of them will help you no matter what." She said as she squeezed his shoulder. "They might not be as good as the 'Puff team, but they're no slouches in the air." She added jokingly. The boy chuckled a little, and to Nym that meant whatever she was doing was working. "No need to get all sullen and broody on me just yet, Potter. You'll do just fine."

Harry still seemed a little unsure, but he was clearly feeling much better now than he was before. "Well, I'm glad you think that." He defeatedly closed his Charms textbook. "Might as well do this over the weekend. It's not like I'm really getting any work done." He glanced over to the clock. It was almost nine. "I think I should get back to the common room. It's almost curfew." He said. Nym nodded, before proceeding to close her own textbooks. "I'm thinking the same. Don't really think I could stomach spending a detention with Pince and Filch after all. 'These school assignments really aren't leaving me with any free time.' She thought, as a small worry also crept back into her head, regarding the fact that this was her very last year at Hogwarts. She knew that after May, she would not see Harry at Hogwarts again, in all probability. She'd already applied to the Auror Office's prestigious and competitive training programme, and she'd be receiving either an offer or a rejection by March – that was a bare four months away! She felt rather good about her chances; she had gotten a total of ten O.W.L.s (of which she managed five O's, four E's and even an Acceptable in History), had fairly competitive N.E.W.T. courses in which she was doing well, and had secured a glowing recommendation from Professor McGonagall – her natural skills in transfiguration that stemmed from being a Metamorphmagus helped incredibly in that regard.

Minutes later, the two were standing outside of the library. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, in the game." Nym said, as she looked at the boy. Harry nodded. "Yeah." Then Tonks moved quickly, almost causing Harry to start backward as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a short squeeze. "Good luck with the game, Harry. I'm sure you'll be amazing." She said softly once she had released him from the hold, before walking away in whatever direction would take her to the Hufflepuff dormitories.

Harry was rooted on the spot. Nym's recent hugs had been growing more frequent and he didn't object to them in any way, but he was still taken back by the sudden contact. Of course, he had seen Dudley and the other children from Privet Drive smothered in them all the time, but his aunt and uncle had naturally never extended the same warmth to him and he was barely getting used to hugs of all things. The gesture felt nice, and it was surprisingly uplifting. In fact, it had even managed to eradicate most of his fears for the next day's game. Soon, he was also moving back to the Gryffindor Tower. 'I'm glad she's able to get back to joking about what happened with the troll. A week ago, she wasn't even talking to me after hearing about what happened.'

It was a Saturday, so most of the Great Hall was still empty when Harry arrived there at half past eight. He sat down opposite Hermione, absentmindedly grinning when he noticed she already had a small book open on the table next to her French toast. The two had begun spending significantly more time with each other after what had come to be known as the 'troll incident', and they had formed an awkward sort of friendship. Hermione usually tried not to be as bossy with Harry as she might with some other students, and Harry refused to see her as just the nerdy bookworm after she had literally saved his life. As far as he was concerned, Hermione just had a little trouble fitting in with others, just like him.

"So, are you nervous?" Hermione asked him after he sat down, "about the game, I mean?" Harry nodded slightly. He merely sat there for several minutes, making some small talk with Hermione. He didn't trust himself to not feel sick if he ate anything. A noticeable influx of students began to pour in as the clock soon ticked past nine, and a good number of them watched him curiously from across the entire Hall.

"Well, if it isn't-" "Our dear little Seeker." The Weasley twins each gave him a light slap on the back as they sat down on either side of him. "So, how are you-" "Holding up for our first match of the season?"

"I-I'm fine." Harry said, though his tone betrayed his true thoughts. He then turned to the twin on his left - George, he thought it was - curiously. "How often do people get hurt in Quidditch?"

The twins smirked. "Well, there haven't been any gory deaths," "For quite a few years, especially since Quidditch got some real rules," "But, things like concussions, broken bones and nasty falls?" "Still pretty common."

Evidently, the answer didn't calm Harry much. "Wait, but isn't there going to be a referee and Madam Pomfrey on the field?"

The twin to his right spoke up. "They can't actually do much when you're plummeting from 15 metres in the air." "Mostly they just try to soften the fall or limit the injury, and prevent death." Harry felt his throat dry up. "But don't worry Harry. Quidditch is basically in your blood."

That thought did give the boy some courage. He had a reason to do this, and while he understood that him being a Seeker wouldn't bring his parents back, it was something that attached him to his parents nonetheless. It would help him show the school that there was an actual person called Harry Potter, and that he wasn't just a kid who was famous for something he doesn't even remember.

Hermione, on the other hand, was not nearly as calm. "That can't be true!" She insisted immediately. "The Headmaster would never allow a sport in which someone could die. Are you sure you aren't pulling his leg, because this is actually serious."

Fred and George looked over to her. "Think what you will, Granger, but it's true. Quidditch can really be a bloody sport, in the literal sense, of course. But don't worry your little heads off. Madam Pomfrey will fix you right up before you even realise you broke something."

Harry guessed that was the best he would be getting, so all he could hope was that it wouldn't come to that. He absentmindedly glanced over to the Hufflepuff table once more.

"Anyhow, you should change into your Quidditch robes and head to the grounds. Wood likes to make us warm up, a lot. Last year he had us running laps for nearly an hour, and that was only the start of it." Harry paled as he listened to one of the twins. 'I know that the guy loves working us hard - that's clear after any practice - but that seems a little excessive.' The boy also seemed to lose any appetite that may have gotten past his growing anxiety.

With that, the twins got up, and left the table, both of them carrying a couple slices of buttered bread with them. Harry watched them leave, as his mind was still flitting around nervously.

"I don't think you should take them so seriously, Harry." Hermione said from next to him as she reached for a croissant. "Even if they are right, the entire staff will be there to make sure nothing happens. I guess all you can do is go out there and play the best you can."

Harry nodded. He then got up from his own seat as well and decided to take the twins' advice. He might as well get ready for the match because as he was right now, he wasn't really doing anything else.

It was four hours later that Tonks and Hestia entered their dorm, still amazed by the Quidditch match they had just seen. "Potter was absolutely brilliant! He actually managed to somehow survive on that crazy broom of his, and he even got the Snitch in his first game! The kid's got a real knack for the game." Hestia said as she walked over to her bed. "He might even give Diggory a run for his money if I'm being honest. I mean, that was just his first game, ever."

Tonks merely nodded. Her own mind was still buzzing as she recalled how Harry had practically been flung across the field by his broom. She was glad that the boy had survived unharmed, but she still felt a heavy feeling settle about her. Harry had literally almost fallen off of his broom, from a height that was just small enough for no one to be able to catch him, but just long enough for him to seriously injure himself. But what really worried her was why it happened. Harry's broom had been brand new. It had arrived mere weeks earlier, and Ministry regulations were very tight when it came to broom production, and then there were the regulations and safety checks that the Nimbus company had of their own. A malfunction of this scale on a brand-new Nimbus broom was almost unheard of.

Tonks turned to her friend, who was still going on about the match. The rest of the school was also still abuzz with what happened. Even in Hogwarts's hectic Quidditch League, it isn't every day that a first year is nearly bucked off of their broom. The fact that it was the Boy-Who-Lived made it considerably worse. But what worried Tonks was that no one seemed to be taking this as seriously as they should have. Most of the student population was treating this like either one of the many adventurous mishaps of the Boy-Who-Lived's life, or as something he himself had engineered to seem like a better player once he retook control of the wayward broom. Those were the two explanations she had heard just on the way back to the Hufflepuff Common Room, and she was sure that the Hogwarts rumour mill would come up with many more that were just as ridiculous within the hour.

The boy in question himself was currently sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, speaking with Hermione. "Harry, I saw it myself. Professor Snape was whispering something while your broom was going out of control, and the second he took his eyes off of you, the broom stopped malfunctioning. I don't want to believe that a professor might be responsible, but this can't be a coincidence." The girl's voice was a hair above a whisper, and Harry could understand why. Almost every other kid in the Common Room was trying – and spectacularly failing – to eavesdrop on their conversation, as all of them were just as curious to hear what Harry had to say about the incident on the pitch.

"I knew Snape was out to get me in one way or the other, but that was actual danger. I'm going to have to be more wary of him." Harry said pointedly. He briefly considered discussing it with McGonagall or Dumbledore, but he fast realised it would have been the word of two first-years against the Potions Professor and a Head of House. Just as he was about to continue, he saw a familiar face approaching the sofa he and Hermione were seated on. Hermione mist have also noticed, as she quickly grew silent. Ron stopped in front of the two rather awkwardly and scratched the scruff of his neck. "Uh…That was some bloody good flying you did today Harry. Fred and George told me you were good but…you really smoked Higgs out there."

"Thank you, Ron," Harry responded civilly. He did feel a slight twinge of guilt as recalled how he had snapped at Ron in front of the entire Common Room the other day, but the sensation was stomped down as he remembered Ron's own words.

"Uh, yeah, no worries mate…" The Weasley continued, obviously trying to piece together his thoughts. "I uh, I also wanted to apologise for some of the things I said last time we spoke. I didn't really look at your situation the same way as you do, and I made some assumptions." By this point, there a visible red on his face. "What I'm trying to say is I'd like it if we could be friends again. I don't know why I really said what I said, but I didn't mean to be insensitive to your situation."

As Harry processed the words, he noticed some of the language was a bit unusual for Ron, at least from what he had come to understand of the boy who liked being straight to the point. 'Maybe Professor McGonagall really did come through and have a talk with him. I hope she wasn't too harsh.' "I understand, and I also want to say sorry for the way I may have reacted a bit extremely. I'm sure you didn't mean what you said maliciously." With that, he stuck out his hand. "I'm sure we can get around it. We both weren't on the best of behaviour." Ron smiled brightly as he clasped the boy's hand. "Yeah, thanks for understanding."

Once he released Harry's hand, he quickly drew up a chair and sat down in front of the sofa that Harry and Hermione were on. "But I was being honest, that was some wild flying. The twins even told me that Oliver told McGonagall this year's team could bring in the trophy for Gryffindor if all goes well. Blimey, he even mentioned it might be worth your time to start looking into pre-professional leagues in a couple years!" Soon, the tense mood all but dissipated as the two dropped into a light hearted conversation on the game. However, Hermione remained silent for a while, before slinking off of the sofa a few minutes later, giving the both of them a bit of a cold shoulder. Both the boys watched her retreat up the staircase to the girls' dorms. Harry then turned his eyes back on Ron with a rather pointed look.

"What're you looking at me for? I didn't say anything." Ron said indignantly.

"Well, not right now Ron, but you were the reason she was upset on Halloween. What you said at the time wasn't nice by any means, and it inadvertently put her life at risk." Harry watched as the boy seemingly deflated with realisation. "I wasn't exactly kind was I?"

Harry grinned slightly. "Well, that's one way to put it, but trust me, once you talk to her, she'll come around. You've just got to get to know her a little better." Ron nodded, but his next words were cut off as a small firework went off near the entrance to the Common Room, and in stumbled Fred, George, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and surprisingly enough, Oliver Wood, all with arms laden with trays of food.

"Looks like Fred and George are back from a kitchen raid." Katie Bell said to him from a few chairs across, and sure enough, the rest of the Quidditch team set down the spread across a table and a couple couches, while George opened a case of what looked like beer bottles before handing them around to some of the older lions in the room. Soon, Wood raised his own bottle, and gave a guttural yell. "To Gryffindor winning the Cup!" Those who had beer bottles responded in kind to the toast, while most of the others just dug into the food. Harry soon joined in as well, unable to resist the tempting Shepherd's pie, and the entire incident with his broomstick was soon forgotten in favour of the celebrations.

Author's Note:

Well, it has certainly been a while, but senioritis had me tagged down, and the pandemic to add to it really just dog-piled on me. Of course, I also had a fair bit of trouble writing this one specific chapter out, as while you may not know it at the moment, the current version up is the third I wrote, and that just adds to the list of ever-growing alternate universes this fic shall have; and none but I shall ever be the wiser of what could have been.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and that's a wrap!

Peace Out

Kofukuna Shi No Kami