20. First Time
Harry was a tad nervous. His try outs for the house Quidditch team had been a major success. Now he was concerned that he was going to mess it up during the big game against Slytherin; it was also his debut game.
No sooner had he finished his try outs, they had all labeled him a seeker. His one and only goal was to find the golden snitch and possibly win his house the game. It was daunting.
Practice had been easy enough, tiring, but easy. But there hadn't been an undercurrent of pressure. So many of the players rested their hopes on him. Their house hadn't won a game against their rivals for quite a while.
Malfoy had even bought his whole team the latest and greatest brooms. Harry's palm grew sweaty at the thought of being such a disappointment.
On top of all this, Professor Lockhart was his new Defense against the Dark Arts Professor. The man was egotistical to a fault. Each and every lesson turned into advertisement for his glorious adventures. A lot of the girls just swooned over him, including Hermione of all people.
Swallowing thickly, he opened the door to exit the boy's changing room. It was a godsend to see the Pale Lady calmly sitting on the ledge of the window.
"Hi", he said lamely, his nerves failing him.
"You need to buck up, Harry. You look as though you're going to your execution. A smile won't damage your face." She made a patting motion next to her. He took his accustomed spot beside her. Harry continued to say nothing, hoping to gain courage from her presence alone.
Softly she rested a gloved hand on his arm in support, "If you do not speak, others cannot understand you."
Following her urging, he said, "I don't think I can do this. How am I going to help them win? The seeker position isn't for me."
The Pale Lady looked perplexed at him. Her gaze landed on the Quidditch pitch, "You didn't have to do this. Just because your friend and his brothers suggested it, you didn't have to follow through with it", she chided.
"They're my friends and I thought it would be fun", he murmured.
"Friends maybe, but they aren't you. Harry, in life you're going to make harder decision than rather to play Quidditch or not. If you were having doubts, you should've said something earlier, now you've driven yourself into a panic. But I think it'll be alright."
Her eyes lifted from the pitch and looked into his own, a smile forming on her lips. "Despite my scolding, I think you have a passion for this game. That's why you're so strung up. Even though you've never played an official game, you want that victory. So go out there and play with your best effort."
"But what if my best effort isn't enough? What if we still lose?"
"Then that's that. But do you want to know a little secret?" She waited for him to nod, before smiling conspiratorially, "It doesn't matter. All of this is just a big schoolyard game. Play for your own amusement. And if they resent you despite your efforts, then perhaps they are the ones with the problem."
Harry sighed a bit in relief. The panic was still there, but it was manageable now. This was just a game like she said. Deep down, he was a little happy that this was the scope of his troubles. There was no evil wizard after him, it was basic crowd anxiety.
"I'm always relying on you. My problems must seem so silly to someone like you. I bet every day of your life is filled with far more impressive and massive things than a Quidditch match."
The Pale Lady paused at that and looked to the sky. She easily stared directly at the sun with no consequence. "Maybe that's true. If you could see the things I've seen, been to the places I've walked to. There are cities more hidden than Ys, creatures more frightening than trolls, and strange happenings more bizarre than magic." A morose tone flavored her words.
A soft texture met her neck. Looking down, she saw a Gryffindor scarf wrapped resting upon her.
"It's nice to take a break. When school work gets too annoying, I like to stretch my legs. I'm sure the same applies to you. I think you need a good old silly schoolyard game. I hear one is going to take place soon. Between you and me, I think you should watch out for the new seeker, Harry Potter."
Wrapping the scarf more securely around her neck, she replied, "Oh my, I should hurry up. Do you think Harry Potter would give me an autograph after the game? I'm his biggest fan."
Cracking a smile, Harry said, "I see what I can work out."
A healthy laugh was shared between the two. The pair walked leisurely to the pitch, even as Harry's team hollered for him to speed up. But he decided that they could wait. Inwardly, he hoped the Pale Lady would speak more frankly with him in the future.
Harry beat Malfoy to the snitch in very decidedly. To Harry's surprise, the Pale Lady did come later with a photograph of him, which he bashfully signed. He hadn't bothered to ask for the scarf back.
