A/N Hello, Hello. It's definitely been a while, I know. I haven't posted in over a month. I needed some time off, what with school starting and sports continuing and my job and all the other fun stuff I have to do. I'll try to keep on pumping these out, as long as you keep on reviewing. It would make me a very happy and motivated writer to get twenty-five reviews for this chapter. Motivated enough to get the next one out by this weekend. Anyway, read, enjoy, and please review.
Chapter 19
Harry was in awe as they made their way threw the inner portions of the stadium, dazzled by the rich surroundings that adorned the locker rooms. Apparently people had decided that professional Quidditch players should be living in extravagance, and had overboard to make that a reality. It seemed that everything was rich, from the gold embossed ceilings to the large and comfortable leather furniture. Even Sirius let out an impressed bark as they walked into the Puddlemere locker rooms, which looked as if it would have belonged in any millionaire's mansion.
"Harry!" He would have recognized the voice anywhere, since he had heard it shout the same thing during innumerable quidditch practices over Harry's first three years. Running over, he jumped over equipment and other quidditch players to get to the far side of the room. Oliver pulled him into an almost painful handshake, then into a large hug.
"Harry, it's great to see you! I couldn't wait until you found out that I'd finally made the starting team." He glanced over and saw Remus and Bill. "Hi Professor."
They made their way over. "Oliver, I'm no longer your professor, you can call me Remus. You did graduate, remember?"
"Of course, just habit, I guess." He turned to Bill. "Hey, aren't you Charlie Weasley's brother?"
"Yeah, I get that lovely distinction. I'm Bill Weasley."
"Your brother was the best, no, second best seeker that I've ever played with, after the man we've got standing right here." Harry couldn't help but grin. "He was in his last year my second year, my first on the team. He could really fly. It's a shame that he didn't go into quidditch."
"I know, but he's always been called to the wilderness. Bit of a screw loose upstairs, if you ask me."
They chatted for a while, about everything from quidditch to how it was hotter than usual for this time of year. Finally Oliver excused himself and pulled Harry out after him. Leading him by the arm, they went through a doorway, and to Harry's surprise out onto the field. Oliver laughed at his dazed expression.
"I take it that you've never been on a professional quidditch field before."
Harry could only nod.
"It's the life, Harry. You have everything; everything that you ever wanted is yours. Money, women, cars, whatever you want. I wanted you to come and see me play, but the team also has a job for me to do. Did you ever wonder how people from Hogwarts get signed? All the teams, or most them, have scouts watching every single match."
Harry silently took this in. He had an idea where this was going, but it would be beyond his wildest dreams. Although he still couldn't get the deep aching that he had in his stomach away from when Oliver had told him he could everything that he ever wanted. Harry knew very well that was impossible, but didn't say anything.
"I got interviewed for a good number of teams who were looking for a new keeper. I was even offered a starting position on two of them. But Puddlemere was different. They told me that they were going to win the European league cup in four years after I graduated. They had an excellent beater coming out of Russia in my year, and another one coming from Spain the year after. They were finally going to beat Chuddley and Berlin, when they finished the last piece of the puzzle. That piece would happen to be an excellent seeker. And take a wild guess at who they happened upon when they were looking." Oliver didn't say anything, but pointed straight at Harry.
"But why me?"
"Because you're damn good. Probably not the best in the world, but you could be right up there once you've been trained properly. Not that I did a bad job."
"They really want me?"
"Yep. Good seekers are very rare, as you many have seen in our game today." He grimaced. "So here's the deal. You can legally sign with a team and begin playing on your sixteenth birthday, although that would make you drop out of school. You're going to get a lot of offers, a lot, and all of them with money beyond your wildest dreams."
"What if I don't want to leave Hogwarts?"
"You wouldn't have to. Instead of going out and playing right away, you can be signed but just not play the first seasons. You would probably have to train all summer every summer until you started again, but for the money that you're going to get it would be well worth it."
Harry stood still again, too overwhelmed to speak. He glanced around at the large empty stands, and pictured himself flying all over the pitch, diving, going after the snitch in all possible directions, with thousands of fans cheering him on and yelling his name.
"Harry, I'm not going to lie. We need you, and we need you bad. Its no good to hold the other team down and wait for our seeker when he, frankly, sucks. If we had you, we could be almost unbeatable. You're going to get a lot of offers, and have a lot of people trying to be your friend. Don't trust any of them. Don't trust anyone but your friends. Maybe don't even trust me, I don't even know anymore. Anyway, I did what they told me to do, so what do you say we go back to see the others?"
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The three of them (plus Sirius) chatted for a few more hours, then went out to a late dinner at the Gilded Truffle, a fancy restaurant in Diagon Alley. Snuffles had to stay outside while they were eating, much to his dismay, because the waitress that greeted them had started attacking him with a broom when he tried to follow them into the restaurant. They enjoyed and very exquisite and expensive meal, with Harry eating roast pork, the likes of which he had never tasted before.
After the meal, Oliver picked up the bill all by himself, insisting that he had more than enough money to cover all of them if they ate there all year. From what he had just told Harry, he doubted that Wood was lying.
The fun was soon over, and Harry had to join Remus again in the Leaky Cauldron for the short trip back to Hogwarts.
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A few days after he returned from the funeral, he was again called up to Dumbledore's office and was faced by the stern faced man. Not having broken any school rules lately (major ones at least), he honestly had no clue what this would be about. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that every time he had to meet with teachers now it had to be something bad. As long as anything didn't happen to Sirius…
"Hello again, Mr. Potter. Please have a seat." Harry sat down quickly and gave him a puzzled look. "Now Harry, this isn't anything bad" Harry visibly relaxed "But has to do with your little day trip on Monday. Am I to believe that you met with Oliver Wood and then had a discussion with him?"
"Yes, sir, I did." Harry was slightly puzzled.
"Now Harry, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what that was about. You are a heavily recruited quidditch prospect. However, you must think carefully before you choose you vocation."
"I think that I have sir."
"Yes, you believe that you have, but you really have not thought it through thoroughly. You are a special case, and must consider what you must contribute to society."
Harry definitely did not like where this was going.
"Because of your, erm, special circumstances, you need to consider what would help us all out, not just make you happy. That's why you can't become a quidditch-"
"WHAT!" Harry was aghast. "Why can't I be a quidditch player."
"Because we need you to become an auror, and hold high status in a defensive society or the ministry."
"To hell with them! Why can't I play quidditch and still do all that?"
Dumbledore hated doing this, but he knew it was necessary. "Because it doesn't work like that, Harry."
"And what if I decide to play quidditch anyway?" Harry was really fired up now.
"You forget, Harry, that you are only fifteen years old and still a minor. Until you are eighteen your guardian can decide what is best for you. And I may give you whatever guardian I feel like. I know that you would not like spending your vacation with Professor Snape."
"You wouldn't." Harry was distraught now.
"I have no choice, Harry. I need to do what is best for the wizarding community."
Harry looked away, and didn't say another word.
"I guess that this is all for tonight. I will get back to you on the guardian situation. You may go." It broke his heart to see Harry walking out like that, but he knew that he had done the right thing.
Harry, on the other hand, was far from heartbroken. He knew that he was already doing more than anyone else because of the coalition, and even if his new guardian wouldn't let him sign when he was sixteen he would just do it when he was eighteen. When he got back to his room he found six more offers for quidditch, and promptly replied to them all.
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Meanwhile, in a castle nestled high in the Swiss Alps, Voldemort was meeting with his inner circle and death eaters and his closest allies.
"Excellent, Malfoy, then Fudge is completely on our side. How goes his quest to rid himself of Dumbledore?"
"Not well, my lord. He says that he just can't drum up enough support to make the move."
Voldemort scowled. "Well then we'll just have to do it ourselves. Are your operatives in place at Hogwarts?"
"Not yet, my lord. They will arrive next week."
"Make sure that they do, Malfoy." Voldemort sent him scurrying back to the rest of the wizards that comprised his inner circle with a flick of his hand. "Barlini!"
An extremely tall and thin wizard walked briskly up to him, and dropped to a knee and kissed his feet. "Yes, my lord?"
"How are the death eaters in Italy?"
"They are waiting for your word, lord. All of Italy shall be ours as soon as you deem it necessary. The Italian ministry suspects nothing."
"Excellent. It will not be long now. Make sure that they are kept on high alert. That is all." Barlini ran back to the rest of the group. "My loyal servants," Voldemort started, giving them a scowl, "we know have all of France and Switzerland under our control. The rest of Europe won't last long either. Even Britain cannot stand against our combined might. It shall finally be ours, and all ours. Follow me and we will play our cards right, and we will rule the world."
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"Mr. Potter, would you please pay attention?" Harry looked up from his daydream to find a very annoyed Professor McGonall looking directly at him from the front of the classroom. "That's five points from Gryffindor. Now, back to the self-transfiguration spells…"
Harry couldn't help but doze off again. It had been two weeks now since the funeral, and it was the last class on the Friday. He was tired. Therefore he needed sleep. It was a hot August day, four in the afternoon, and an extremely boring class. He didn't see any objection to sleeping during class, and he really didn't think that Professor McGonnal should have one. Apparently she wasn't the only one, because as soon as he drifted off to blissful sleep Hermione poked him hard in the back of the head with her wand.
He turned around and glared at her, daring her to do it again. Sure enough, as soon as he felt himself slipping there was a painful poke in the back. Giving up, he just sat there and pretended to pay attention for the rest of the period. What did Hermione care if he couldn't sleep at night, if his dreams were coming back worse than ever. What did she care if the only good sleep he seemed able to get was during the middle of class? What did she care if he had completely given up on all clothes except for his long sleeved and totally unrevealing robes. He even slept in them now. Ron was giving him strange looks when he woke him up in the morning, and found Harry sleeping in robes. Even on the hottest days of the year, when they were all out relaxing by the lake, Harry hadn't forsaken his robes, despite the constant questions from Ron.
About the only times that he ever took them off anymore was when he was securely locked in either his bathroom or the prefects bathroom. He hated to do it, hated to look at what he had become, just some mutated freak. Not even magic could cure it. He had no hope; he could only go along like it never happened. Nobody could find out, because nobody would ever understand if they did. Hermione was different. He loved Ron, he was one of his best friends, but he could never even think about telling him some of the things that had happened to him. He had never even told him what happened at the third task.
"HARRY!"
"WHAT!"
Hermione looked a little hurt. "Sorry, you were just staring off into space. It's time to go." When he looked up, he saw that everyone had already left.
"Well maybe if I had been able to a little sleep, I would have been paying attention."
"No you wouldn't have, you would have been asleep."
Harry stopped, knowing that he couldn't argue with Hermione on this point. "Well I could have been all nice and happy like if you had actually let me sleep. This is three classes in a row."
"You're a prefect, you are supposed to set an example-"
"Oh, do you really think that I give a rats ass about setting an example?"
"Well maybe you should, because-"
"I don't even want to hear it. Try leaving me alone for three minutes once in a while. I'm out of here." Without a look back, Harry ran away from the two of them as fast as he could, not really minding where he went, just trying to run away from everything. He knew that it would never work, because he had to meet Ron and Hermione along with the rest of the group in a little over four hours to begin training for the coalition.
Not knowing where he was going, he just kept running, until he recognized the door to the prefect's bathroom. Running in and locking the door securely behind him he figured that as long as he was here he might as well relax in a bath. However, when he finally convinced himself to pull off his robes, he looked down at himself and that made him realize what he had said to Hermione. Without a word, he collapsed into tears.
He made it into the full and warm prefect tub, but filled it only with clear, warm water. He couldn't stop staring down at himself, and what he had become. He couldn't ever even get a girl interested in him now, he was so hideous. He was as bad as Voldemort, a plain freak. That's it, and nothing more, a freak. He drifted of into a light and troubled sleep.
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He wasn't the only person in tears at that moment. After Harry had finished yelling at Hermione, she had run straight by everyone up to her dormitory in the Gryffindor tower, unable to hold her tears. Even a half an hour later, and Ron coming up to comfort her hadn't been able to stop her. Ron was still up there, sitting next to her on her bed, trying to make her feel better. When she finally contained herself, Ron couldn't stop himself from asking the question that had been bothering him since he go to Hogwarts.
"Hermione, do you know what happened to Harry?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. Something happened to him over the summer, I can tell. He's so different! He doesn't sleep at night, because every time that I wake up he's tossing and turning or reading something. I know that you know something, so get it over with and tell me!"
"I can't."
"TELL ME!"
"RON! Did you ever think that Harry wanted to tell you himself, but he's too scared to because of how you might react?" That shut Ron up for a minute, and Hermione could see him visibly calming down.
"He's not gay, is he?"
"No, you jackass, he's not gay."
Ron went into deep thought mode again. "Then is he-"
"Ron, shut up."
"Okay."
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By the time that Harry woke up in the tub in the prefect's bathroom, he was very wrinkled and it was very late. Realizing that they were supposed to meet someone on top of the astronomy tower at midnight for coalition training, he got out quickly and ran right up to the Gryffindor common room where he was met by Hermione, Ron, Fred and George, Alicia, Katie, Angelina, Dean, and Seamus.
Hermione was in the middle of explaining the situation to the rest of them when Harry walked in. Fred and George looked like they thought the whole thing was a joke, Dean and Seamus looked confused, and Alicia, Katie, and Angelina looked very scared. Ron was up next to Hermione, giving her moral support.
"Tonight all we have to do is go train. Nothing dangerous, nothing wild, just simple training. Remember, no one can know about this! This stays between the ten of us, and no one else. Not your parents, not your siblings, not friends, lovers, pets, anyone. You will definitely be in a lot of trouble if you do slip up, because they can get pretty nasty if they want to." She looked at them, carefully searching each face to read their emotions. Finally, she turned back to Harry. "Anything to add?" She said this not looking at him, but rather eyes down on the floor.
"No, lets just go do this." That said, they all quickly changed into the coalition robes, and grabbing their new broomsticks set off for the astronomy tower. Ron had found the Marauder's Map that afternoon lying on Harry's bed, and had just borrowed it to use for a guide to make sure that they were not caught.
They made their way up, and sat on top of the tower enjoying the view until two people flew down to them on broomsticks at the stroke of midnight. Throwing back their hoods, they turned out to be Abby and another guy who Harry and Hermione recognized from the meeting.
"Wassup Harry, Hermione," she started. Abby looked the group over slowly, and stopped on Fred and George. "Oh, twins! Which one of you is the evil one?" Ron couldn't help but laughing at this.
"Well, actually-"
"If you want to get right down to it-"
"Both of us could certainly be classified as evil-"
"But not in the classic villain role-"
"More the mad inventor scientist-"
"If you want to come back to our room we can show you."
Abby looked interested, and sidled over to them. "I don't think that's such a bad idea…" Fred and George certainly looked happy.
However, Alicia and Angelina didn't. Both walked over to their respected Weasley's and made sure that they stood very close to them, glaring daggers at Abby.
"Whoops, guess you're already taken. My bad. This is Thomas; by the way. He's the head instructor for us, and you'll train directly under him."
"I'm looking forward to putting you through hell."
"That's just peachy. Let's go then." Jumping on her broom, Abby raced off and the rest hurried off into the dark night to follow her.
