AN: Again, many thanks to my great beta readers Verlor and udm17!


Chapter 2 – Tears on the Quay


Unbelievable: Harry Potter Joins Chudley Cannons as New Seeker!

By Boris Chamberlain

In an unprecedented move, the Chudley Cannons announced earlier today the signing of none other than Harry Potter as their new Seeker! Yes, dear readers, you read that right: Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Conquered, the shining hero of our country, will play for the Chudley Cannons!

Quite a few people have suspected that Harry Potter might play Quidditch professionally – after all, his exploits as the Seeker for the Gryffindor team are well known, as well as his spectacular flying against a dragon during the Triwizard Tournament – but nobody would have thought his debut to be with the worst team in recent decades. In a press conference with Cannons team manager, Ragmar Dorkins, Harry Potter evaded questions about the reasoning behind this surprising decision, so one can only speculate.

Of course, the entire wizarding community of Great Britain, probably the whole world, is excited to see how Potter will fare in his first match of the season, two months from now. Before that, the Cannons will head to their traditional training camp in the Austrian Alps tomorrow, during which they will play at least one friendly match against a local Quidditch team. The opponent, time, and place have not yet been determined, but you may rest assured that this reporter will not miss the opportunity to watch Harry Potter's first footfall in professional Quidditch! The Daily Prophet will, of course, report.

Perhaps we will then also get to see more of Daphne Greengrass, who is currently in a trial position (for both Chaser and Seeker) in the Cannons' lineup and depending on her performance, could be promoted to a permanent spot on the team, becoming Harry Potter's teammate, something many would be quite jealous of.


The next morning Harry overslept.

On his hasty creep back to Ron's room, he bumped into Hermione. They exchanged guilty smiles before hurrying back to their assigned rooms. Harry had barely made it to his bed before Mrs. Weasley threw the door open.

"Wake up, boys!" she exclaimed. "Get up! Come on. It's going to be a long day." And then she was gone again. Shortly afterwards, they heard the same wake-up call coming from Ginny's room a few meters down the hall.

Harry and Ron grinned at each other before quickly getting dressed and going down to the kitchen. A short breakfast followed, before Harry said his goodbyes to the Burrow's residents, especially Ginny, who hugged him very tightly during their farewell kiss. Way too soon, it was eight o'clock. Carrying his broom and two large shoulder bags, which held his belongings and also quite a bit of food Mrs. Weasley had packed for his journey, Harry Apparated to the Chudley Cannons' training ground.

Most of the other players were already there; Harry greeted them briefly. Daphne gave him a smile which he reciprocated. When Meyers and Dorkins had also arrived, a long rope was spread out on the ground that would serve as their international Portkey to the Austrian Alps. At exactly 8:05 a.m. they all grabbed the rope and Harry felt the familiar, uncomfortable sensation as they travelled hundreds of miles within a few seconds.

In Austria, the team was greeted by bright sunshine and a cloudless blue sky at a temperature of just over twenty degrees – perfect Quidditch weather. In front of them they saw a small hotel and behind it several sports facilities and a small lake. Harry knew that the facility was covered with several Muggle-Repelling Charms and had served as the Cannons' summer training camp for years. To be honest, Harry would have questioned the purpose of this camp not too long ago considering the Cannons performance in recent years, but apparently, everyone else was excited to be there.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen," shouted Meyers, who was standing in front of them. "As usual, two-person rooms. For the women: Petric and McKilton. May and Greengrass. For the men: Jenkins and Stones. Potter and Gottwald. Doyle and Carpenter. Berg, as captain, you have the privilege of having a room for yourself. No illicit activities with the opposite sex allowed. That applies especially to any Muggle girls from the village." He cast a penetrating glance at John Doyle and Jeremy Gottwald, who stared guiltily at the floor. "Any questions? No? Good. Then put your bags in the reception. We start training immediately. Merlin be praised if we can rise at least one spot in the rankings this season! We start in five minutes. Hurry up!"

After changing clothes faster than ever before in his life, Harry was now standing panting in the middle of a small playing field alongside most of his teammates. However, the Chasers Sophie May and Jon Doyle as well as the Beater and Harry's roommate Jeremy Gottwald were late and had to do a hundred push-ups as a punishment, while the other players had to throw balls in the air to improve their arm strength. Harry decided to never be late as he looked pitifully at his three teammates on the ground.

"Harry, watch out," he heard a bright voice, but it was too late. A ball struck him directly in his face. Thanks to his bad luck, the incident didn't go unnoticed.

"Concentration, Potter," Meyers yelled. "You can look at May's bum another time."

Harry felt the blood rush to his head, while Daphne, who had thrown the ball, gave him an apologetic smile.

What followed was the longest and most arduous practice session Harry had ever experienced. Not even Wood had tormented him so badly, not even before the crucial match for the Quidditch Cup during his third year. There was only a short break around noon, during which they were brought sauerkraut to eat.

Apart from that, they spent the rest of the morning and afternoon doing exercises and training flight maneuvers. Harry eventually stopped counting the number of times he was hit by Bludgers, while Meyers kept shouting at him that this was no longer Hogwarts. As if he didn't know that himself!

When Harry finally dropped into bed after a dreary dinner, his entire body ached. Behind him, his roommate Jeremy Gottwald stepped in with a grin ... apparently nothing could spoil his good mood.

"You look terrible," laughed Jeremy. "Come on, you defeated You-Know-Who, the lovely Rob Meyers should be a piece of cake."

Harry just grunted into his pillow, which gave Jeremy another laugh before he threw himself onto the other bed, jumping up and down several times as if to test it.

"Do you have a problem if I take a shower first?" Jeremy then asked.

"Go ahead," Harry replied. "I have to write a letter to my girlfriend anyway."

"Oh, you gentleman," grinned Jeremy. "Gotta show me pictures of her, loverboy."

Harry decided to never show Jeremy any pictures of Ginny. Besides, he had no pictures of her at all, he noticed just then.

Jeremy began to undress while whistling happily to himself. "Tell me, Harry," he said. "Do you think I have a chance with Daphne? She's a real bombshell, you know. Yes, yes, I get that she's a lot younger than me, but I'd love to let her ride my broomstick if you get what I'm talking about?" He gave Harry a sly smile.

Harry laughed out loud. It was just like it used to be in the Gryffindor dorm. "Go and shower, Jeremy. You stink. Don't make it too long, we wake up early tomorrow and I also have to take one!"

"Yeah, yeah, mum."

And with that, Jeremy disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. Harry took out a pen and a piece of paper and began writing a letter to Ginny. After just one day, he already had so much to tell her!


If Harry thought the first day had been tough, he was proven wrong over the course of the week. Meyers made them train like crazy every day. Apparently, he was serious about not wanting to finish at the bottom of the table again. Harry doubted that any other of the twelve teams in the league trained as hard as they did. Every evening when he lay down in bed his body ached; it was, however, a pleasant pain that indicated a day of hard work. Harry had more than enough experience with other kinds of pain, so this was a nice change.

He also had the opportunity to get to know his teammates better. Jeremy and Jon were the jesters and self-styled ladykillers; they reminded Harry a little of the Weasley twins. In any case, they always made people laugh and relaxed the atmosphere in the team. Sophie was the lovable clumsy fellow. She was always messing things up and causing chaos in training, but somehow you just couldn't be angry with her for long. Davik and Claire, on the other hand, were something like the "adults" in the team, after all, they were by far the oldest and most experienced. Patricia didn't speak English very well, but she was an open-hearted person. Joey, Henry, and Felix were a bit inconspicuous, but nice people, nonetheless. Harry had the feeling that at the end of their careers they just wanted some peace; he could respect that.

He also saw Daphne every day and talked to her from time to time, but he hadn't managed to learn anything new about her. On the evening of their second day at training camp, their teammates had agreed to meet in the hotel bar to celebrate and relax. Harry had asked Daphne if she would come too, but she had only said that she wanted to do some more training and might come later.

She hadn't come to the bar that night, nor on any other evenings.

Harry had no idea what she got up to, but she was always the first to arrive on the training ground and the last to leave, however long that was after the rest of the team left. He could only admire her zeal, even if Meyer's remarks that they should all take a leaf out of her book caused some annoyance in the team. Harry didn't feel that Daphne was bothered by that, however. The only thing she seemed to care about was Quidditch, and Harry had to admit that she was really good at it. He also enjoyed the Seeker training with her, even if she once confessed that she preferred playing as Chaser.

Each evening Harry took a few minutes to write to Ginny and tell her about his day. He would also get a letter from her almost every day, even if her messages were much shorter than his own. On the other hand, Ginny always sent him pictures of herself, her team, or just the beautiful landscape in her Spanish training camp, which Harry was very happy about. In particular, he looked at one picture over and over again. It showed Ginny smiling at the camera in a skimpy white bikini. Unfortunately, he had ended up being a bit careless one day and had left the picture on his bed – Jeremy had of course seen it immediately and showed it to the entire team. The men then patted him on the back in appreciation, while the women just rolled their eyes. Harry had been a little embarrassed about it, but he was also proud to have such an attractive girlfriend.


It was the eighth day of the training camp as the team gathered under the morning sun when Harry noticed that a familiar face was missing.

"Hey, Coach," he called, "where's Daphne?"

"Greengrass has a personal appointment and won't be training with us today," Meyers shouted. "Enough chatter! Get on your brooms!"

And indeed, Harry didn't see Daphne all day. However, when he stepped out of the bar that evening to take a breath of air – he didn't want to imagine Meyers' fury when, not if, he found Jeremy and Jon smoking – he saw a familiar head of blond hair some distance away. It was Daphne, sitting on the jetty by the lake, her legs dangling over the water. Harry could only see her back and hair, but it seemed to him that she was sad by the way she hung her shoulders and kept her head bowed.

Should he speak to her? Harry knew that sometimes it was good to have someone to talk to, even if you didn't want to admit it to yourself. How many times had he bottled up his sorrow instead of sharing it with someone. Talk about being a hypocrite, he thought. With a chuckle to himself, Harry realized he's already made his decision. And if he was wrong and Daphne just wanted some rest, she could just send him away.

He got two bottles of beer from the bar, before stepping to Daphne on the quay. She didn't seem to notice him and was still looking at the almost motionless water in front of her, while the slow evening breeze played gently with her strands.

"Hey, Daphne," Harry addressed her.

Daphne winced at his words and looked up hastily; Harry saw something glittering under her eyes.

"Harry!" Daphne exclaimed, surprised, as she hurriedly wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve. Harry had had some bad experiences with crying girls in the past – he still felt bad about how he'd treated Cho. He had been so immature back then ... hopefully he'd learned from his past mistakes.

Ignoring Daphne's tears, Harry sat down next to her on the wooden boards. "Training today was quite weird without you," he said while opening a beer bottle with his wand and handing it to Daphne. "Your enthusiasm and zeal were missing. And Meyers had no one to praise." Here Daphne actually laughed briefly. Harry smiled. He wanted to steer the conversation to a pleasant subject. "It's really amazing how much you love Quidditch. Hermione said she talked to you at Hogwarts from time to time, and she wouldn't have thought of you that way either. So how come that Daphne Greengrass, who is the exact opposite of Ronald Weasley in everything else, shares this love for Quidditch with him?"

A warm smile crept onto Daphne's face as she answered, her gaze off into the distance, "I've loved Quidditch since I was very little. Back then, my father took me to a match between the Montrose Magpies and the Wigtown Wanderers. I don't even know who won, but I instantly fell in love with this sport. The fast brooms, the flight maneuvers, the cheering of the fans across the stadium. That was when I realized what I wanted to do in life..." She took a sip from the beer bottle in her hand.

Harry understood her words all too well. When he thought back to his first Quidditch match when he was eleven, he still got goosebumps.

"Soon you're going to be a Quidditch player," he said and began to grin. "After seeing you training, I'm glad you never played for Slytherin. That would have made it a lot harder to win the Cup."

Daphne's face darkened. "I still hate the Sorting Hat for putting me in Slytherin. I couldn't play because of those idiots in the house. They didn't want girls."

"I'm always a fan of calling Slytherins idiots!" Harry laughed.

He seemed to have chosen a good topic of conservation, because Daphne hastily continued, "It's easy for you to talk! You didn't have to live with those idiots for seven years! It was hell!" Harry chuckled. "Don't laugh, Potter!"

Harry grinned at Daphne. "It was just too funny how upset you were. I don't think I've ever seen you like this before. You're very different from how I saw you at Hogwarts. You were so composed."

"Hogwarts is over," Daphne said with a shrug.

"Right. Now nobody's stopping you from playing Quidditch. To be honest, I'm surprised at how good you are, since you've never trained or played in a team."

"I played at home every day during the holidays. Against my sister Astoria and my parents. They also encouraged me not to give up on my dream. After Hogwarts life really starts anyway, they said."

"Then they'll be incredibly proud of you when you soon have your first match."

Those seemed to have been the completely wrong words. Daphne turned her head away, and her body started to tremble. Worried, Harry leaned forward but hesitated to touch her. Then he heard Daphne begin to cry, her arms wrapped around her torso.

Well done, Harry. Even after trying his best to not repeat past mistakes, here he was, next to a crying witch again. However, he had learned since Cho. He knew now that tears and grief were part of life, even if he didn't know what exactly the reason for Daphne's grief was. But that didn't matter anyway. He wanted to comfort her and be the friend he hadn't been for Cho back then. Carefully, he put his arms around Daphne.

Her body tensed at the touch. Nothing happened for a moment, but then Daphne turned and pressed against him. Comfortingly, Harry stroked her back while her tears wet his shoulder.

Should he say something? And if so, what? Or should he just keep quiet and let Daphne cry? However, Harry had never been good at silence, so he began to speak. "I don't know what's bothering you," he said gently. "But if you need someone to talk to, I'm there for you. And if you just need someone to hug and cry, then I'll be there for you too."

Daphne's sobs intensified at his words, but she couldn't seem to get her own words out. Thus, Harry did the only thing he could do. He kept rubbing her back soothingly, gazing out in the expanse while she cried. Time lost meaning as they just sat there, in silence. No words needed to be said.

Eventually, Daphne calmed down a bit. Her sobs stopped and the rise and fall of her chest slowed. Harry only heard Daphne's loud breathing now, but she made no move to break away from him.

"Thank you, Harry," she finally whispered, so quiet Harry almost didn't understand her words.

"You don't have to thank me, Daphne."

"Still, I do."

"My offer stands. If you need someone to talk to…"

Daphne pulled away from him and slid back a little, while looking at him with unfathomable eyes, as if unsure what to do, before finally nodding slowly. "Maybe that's not such a bad idea," she muttered.

Harry didn't say anything. This was all about Daphne, and he didn't want to press her.

"Do you know where I've been today?" she asked.

"No. Meyers only said you had a personal appointment."

"You can put it that way…" Daphne took another sip from the beer bottle. "I was with my sister ... we visited our parents' grave."

Her words brought a sudden realization. "How?" he asked softly.

"Voldemort himself." Harry noticed that she wasn't afraid to say Voldemort's name. "My parents refused to join him. We ... saw it happen. Astoria and me. They were so brave! They told him to his face that they would rather be dead than serve him…"

Daphne paused. Harry took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. In a shaky voice, Daphne continued, "Today was the anniversary of their death, and it just brought it all back at once." Turning her head, Daphne now looked at him with her sparkling, bright green eyes. "Thank you, Harry."

"What for?" he asked in surprise.

"Thank you for killing him. With that, you made it possible for Astoria and me to have a life, a real life. You avenged our parents and freed us."

Harry opened his mouth, but Daphne put a finger on his lips. "No, don't say anything. You are way too humble, Harry Potter. Please just accept my thanks. You can't imagine how grateful I am to you. Please don't downplay this. You saved Astoria's and my life. Even if you didn't know that, it doesn't make it any less important. I ... I would have loved to fight those bastards with you ... but I had to take care of Astoria. She's the only family I have left…"

Harry looked at Daphne sadly but stopped trying to contradict her. Presumably, humility could sometimes hurt others, and he didn't mean to hurt Daphne. Therefore, he just squeezed her hand one more time. "I didn't know I had supporters in Slytherin, too", he said, smiling. "Thanks, Daphne. And you're a good older sister."

"May I lean against you?" Daphne asked, her gaze averted. "Only tonight?"

"Of course."

Daphne leaned her head on his shoulder and Harry put his arm around her as they gazed together at the calm water of the lake, which shimmered red in the light of the setting sun.

...

When Harry returned to his room later that evening, Jeremy greeted him with a broad grin. "Well, had a nice evening, Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you and Daphne. Is there something going on? If Ginny is on the market, you will tell me right away, won't you?

Harry realized that Jeremy must have seen him and Daphne. Of course, he did! The other team members probably too.

"Don't talk such nonsense," he replied. "Daphne was sad about something, so I comforted her. That was all."

He had only comforted her, as he would have done with Hermione or his other friends.


Next Chapter: Friend and Girlfriend

Release Date: Sunday, June 20th, 2021

Preview:

Both teams mounted their brooms and rose into the air. Warily, Harry eyed the players of QC Wolfsfang, who were clad in bilious green robes; his previous matches against green-clad opponents had been anything but fair. But Hogwarts was over, he reminded himself.