Chapter 2: The Trialists

June 28, 1998
Closed-door Tryout, War Memorial Stadium, Dartmoor

The stadium to be used lay on a field in Dartmoor. Once upon a time, it carried a different name. But it was recently renamed, to reflect the fact that the first skirmish in the most recent war had ended. Today, and for the next two days, it would serve a different purpose.

With Harry and Ron trying to keep their potential interest in quidditch secret for the time being, several owners had come together to organize this tryout. As Harry and Ron stepped onto the pitch, they were greeted by stands that were much fuller than they expected, though thankfully nowhere near the World Cup capacity of the venue. Harry motioned over to one of the team owners, asking, "Why are so many people here?"

The owner, a balding and slightly rotund man, explained in a thick Irish accent, "We've got teams from around the world, and many of them brought players and staff with them."

Harry looked over at Ron, who had closed his eyes, and he hoped Ron would do well without Felix Felicis. Harry patted Ron on the back, who nodded, taking a deep breath.

For much of the first day, Harry and Ron were working on different things. Harry didn't pay much attention to what was going on with Ron, at least until his half of the pitch seemed to be running half-pitch drills. Harry hoped this was a good sign.

Perhaps it was due to the way the stadium was set up, but Harry had been having trouble locating the snitch all day. "At least the other seekers with me are having the same issue," he noted, watching the other six seekers look for the Snitch fruitlessly. The woman running Harry's half threw her hands in the air, and had them run other drills while they figured out what happened to the Snitch.

As the second day came around, Harry and Ron found themselves on opposite sides of a mock match. A new Snitch had been procured, and marked with a small scratch to tell the referees whether they had caught the second or first one. Both Harry and Ron knew that the reason to have them face off would be to test both of their leadership skills on the pitch.

Much like when the two played chess, the results started to stack up badly against Harry. Ron's players seemed to be great at keeping control of the Quaffle, while Harry's seemed to be looking for directions from their captain, who was busy battling against the opposing Seeker in hunt for the snitch. Harry would grab the snitch, only to find that he had grabbed the one from the day before. Frustrated, he continued on.

In the absence of Harry, his keeper had taken control of the other six members, which had kept Ron's attacks at bay. Unfortunately for Harry, he seemed to be more fatigued than his opponent, and seemed to be the first player on the pitch who was tired. This tiredness would result in him spotting the Snitch far too late, as Ron's Seeker would find and grab the Snitch with Harry chasing behind.

July 8, 1998
Second Closed Tryout, Sicily

The second try out for the boys would be quietly held in Sicily. Despite most teams likely already having a clue as to what they saw in them, the stadium in Sicily had almost as many people as they did in Dartmoor. There were some who wanted to see them again, like Chudley (a fact that Ron was extremely happy about), and many who wanted to see them elsewhere. Notably, some less prestigious leagues were very well represented, like the United States and Australia.

Harry was still tiring out before other members on the pitch, and this was worrying him a little. Ron would be the next one to tire out, but he seemed to tire out long after Harry. Harry didn't have nearly as much trouble finding the Snitch, though, and he seemed to be regaining some of his old acrobatics.

Or, he was, until he ate dirt and grass attempting a Wronski Feint.

July 17, 1998
Puddlemere Courtyard, Puddlemere

Harry found himself in the middle of Puddlemere Courtyard, the training home of Puddlemere United. This was the first time that he was doing it by himself, and he couldn't help but feel like he was back at Hogwarts in 1991, stepping into the locker rooms before that first match with Slytherin.

He wouldn't have long to muse about that though, as he was greeted by an enthusiastic Oliver Wood. "Potter! It's good to see you again!" Oliver beamed at his former teammate, holding out his hand, "Welcome to Puddlemere!"

Harry responded with a firm handshake. "It's good to see you again, Wood. I hope you've been well since…" He found the word stuck in his throat.

Oliver knew what he was talking about. "I've been doing quite well, Potter. By the way, I don't know if you've seen today's Prophet?"

"I had. I know it was bound to leak out eventually, but I think Ron and I would have preferred it if our secret had stayed secret just a little longer."

Wood nodded. "I will admit I was excited when I heard you were trying out. I think we'll be needing a new Seeker in a year or two, unless Coach has another plan." Harry responded with silence, which Oliver let hang for a moment before continuing, "I presume that you might be interested?"

"I'm not sure if I still have what it takes," replied Harry, "and I really do appreciate you saying those things about me in the Prophet, but I've seen some of the notes."

"Harry, I was so dedicated to Quidditch because I knew it was what I wanted to do more than anything. It helped me get into the league as fast as I did. You didn't have that luxury, and the people that saw you in your tryouts- they know it too. What they'll be looking for most of all is if you have the drive and the talent. I know you have the talent, Potter, McGonagall doesn't impress easily, and you impressed me back then."

Harry paused, dwelling on Oliver's words. "What would you have done if you didn't have your family's support?"

"You mean, what did I do?" Oliver paused. "I did everything I could to make sure that I gave what I could to Quidditch. That way, if my dream didn't come true, I could walk away and say that I gave it my all. But even then, I had a backup plan if I didn't make it to the pros. By the time that we lifted that cup in 1994, I had managed to convince my parents that I had a good shot."

Oliver turned to Harry. "Even with how Quidditch obsessed I was at Hogwarts it has taken a lot of work for me to be able to get here. You have to be willing to fight for your dream day in, day out." Oliver looked over Harry. "I see a Seeker who spent a war undernourished. But I saw you in that battle, and you still have it. That talent that excited McGonagall. "Oliver paused before continuing, "I think Reggie is right, except I think you need a couple of months before you get back to where you were."

Harry fiddled with the note in his pocket. He knew that he did have options, and that while he did promise that he would make sure he set himself up for his future, he knew he wanted this. "Alright, Oliver, what would you do if you were me?"

July 18, 1998
The House of Orange, Chudley

Ronald Weasley was not one to scream like a girl, thank you very much. 'Viktor I love you, Viktor I do, when we're apart my heart beats only for you..' Ron shook his head. "Blasted twins," he muttered under his breath. Ignoring the twinge of sadness, he went back to what he'd been doing best, surveying the pitch.

Ragmar Dorkins was having the time of his life. Coaching a club whose motto was "let's just cross our fingers and hope for the best" was not a high life ambition of his. And yet in this moment he was supremely giddy. Here was an 18 year old with talent who wanted to play for the worst club in the league. He heard Ron Weasley had an affinity for chess, but it appeared that Weasley's strategic mind was also well equipped for Quidditch. He was leading the reserves to have a competitive score against the main club. Imagine what he could do with actual chasers!

If Dorkins was being fully honest, the fact that Weasley's best friend was Harry freakin' Potter didn't hurt either. He'd seen what Reg Pomfrey had said, and yeah, the Man-Who-Conquered needed a year or two to guarantee his health. But he was still a damn sight better than Galvin Gudgeon. He winced, thinking back to last week's loss against Appleby.

Hopefully with the loss of their old owner he'd be able to actually spend money and acquire half-decent talent. Good old Eugene, bless his soul, had had a heart attack while at the Potter trial, around about the time Potter pulled off one of the most impressive Wronski Feints anyone could remember. Ragmar chuckled, "another reason to thank them." However, they were going to be stuck in limbo for a bit as no one had stepped up to buy the cursed franchise yet.

Dorkins smiled as he watched Weasley size up the team. He was raw, but he'd be good for the soon to be rebuilding Chudley side. He might even be a draw for Potter, but even if Potter didn't join, he knew Weasley was the heir apparent for the side.

Maybe he'd even push to get the slogan changed. If Weasley lived up to his potential, they'd return to conquering and plundering again.

July 19, 1998
Holyhead Harpies Training Center, Holyhead

Ginny Weasley was not a happy camper. While she would have liked to run back to the house and confront the boys, she had been invited to a training weekend in Holyhead. Much to her dismay, the entire training facility was abuzz with the news. For most of the day, she had quietly put her anger behind her and attempted to channel it into training. This could be one of the best chances she had at getting into her dream team, and she was not going to mess it up if she could avoid it.

Her facade had almost slipped when an athletic blonde started running her mouth not far away from Ginny's locker on the last day of the trial. "I'd really consider signing for any team that had Potter," she stated dreamily to her companions, who were nodding, "see if I could get a piece of that action." Ginny gripped the edge of her locker. If her boyfriend was being secretive about this, was he being secretive about something else? A quiet voice inside her told her that Harry wouldn't lie about it, but it was drowned out by a cacophony of other thoughts.

Ginny had gone for a walk after dinner, taking a stroll around the complex. The training facility was set up as a block under the stadium seating at the end facing the Irish Sea. While the side facing the stadium was solid stone and brick, matching the rest of the stadium, the side facing the sea was mostly open, appearing to be right out of a muggle city. Sitting down on a bench, she cast a quick Incendio at the fire pit, staring out over the sea.

She was brought out of her musing when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see the flying coach, Georgina Jones standing behind her. "Mind if I sit with you?" When Ginny nodded, she sat and joined, sitting next to her on the bench. "You know, I think the other coaches are liking what they're seeing out of you. If you keep it up, I think Coach will have to add you to at least the reserves."

Ginny smiled. "Thanks, that means a lot."

Georgina put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Just make sure you keep that drive, okay? There's a lot of hopefuls that flame out in the reserves. I've seen players with all the talent flame out because they lost it. I think you could be a big part of this team if you channel that drive into playing." She chuckled, "Oh, and make sure you keep any temper in check off the field. Gwenog's infamous for it, but a lot of coaches and owners aren't fond of outbursts off the field."