Summary:
Harry has just finished his seventh and final year at Hogwarts…
Voldemort is an ever-present threat in the world with The Order of the Phoenix doing all they can to keep him from taking over.
In this world of conflict, Harry has to decide what shape his future will take.
Chapter 4 – Flying
The following couple of days went by quickly. Remus and Sirius were busy as usual, and Harry occasionally rued the fact that they couldn't spend more time together. And yet, he himself was busy too.
Life after Hogwarts had seemed almost unimaginable at the start. Harry had badgered Sirius and Remus mercilessly for months for advice.
He knew that his life would never be normal. He was 'The Boy Who Lived'.
He also wasn't under any illusions that, without the safety of the Hogwarts castle and Dumbledore's protection, he was in very real danger of falling into Voldemort's hands.
Voldemort.
Harry's life seemed to revolve around the Dark Lord.
He had sometimes mused what he would do should the Dark Lord be vanquished. It was frightening how empty his life was once you took away the man that had murdered his parents.
Harry had finally come to the decision that he would make sure that he made time to live.
After all, what was the use of fighting Voldemort, working for the Order and everything else if he forsook all that he was fighting for!
Having made the decision to live, Harry had unsurprisingly chosen to do what made him feel most alive.
He'd decided to play quidditch, as a professional.
Of course, having made this decision Harry had committed himself to tiring exercise schedules and a ridiculously strict diet. He had demanded of himself that he would make it onto a professional team by virtue of his own flying talent, and not for the sake of his famous name.
The Appleby Arrows had advertised for a new seeker. Their position in the league had been slipping steadily over the last few years and their supporters grew restless of the antics of current seeker Johan Blatch.
Harry intended to be ready for their tryouts, which were set for a week's time. He had devised a stringent programme for himself and had even gotten himself a new broom.
The broom…
Harry had been dumbstruck,
He had never anticipated that anything useful would ever come of his unwanted fame, but it seemed at last that he would find some benefit.
The newest broom makers in the business were Morgan and Keilty. The Irish cousins had been making amateur brooms for a decade before they'd finally decided to take the plunge and set up a proper business.
They had written to Harry at Christmastime during his last year at Hogwarts and had offered to build him a customised broom if he would do some publicity shoots for their company.
Harry had refused many similar requests in the past, lots of companies had offered him astronomical fees and gifts to buy his endorsement but thus far Harry had always refused. He did no want or need money and he just felt that it would be wrong to flaunt his fame in such a manner.
What had made this request different was the fact that Seamus Finnegan, his Gryffindor housemate had told Harry about Morgan and Keilty. They had already gained notoriety throughout Ireland for their skills but it was also common knowledge that neither Patrick Morgan, nor Ashanti Keilty had two galleons to rub together.
His first meeting with the energetic cousins had indeed been memorable.
"It's a great pleasure to meet ya Harry." Gabbled Patrick bouncing up and down on his toes and wringing Harry's hand.
Ashanti rolled her eyes at her cousin impatiently and ignored formalities shoving a broomstick into Harry's outstretched hand as soon as Patrick released it.
Harry grinned at her and started to inspect the broom.
The handle was crafted of beautiful cherry wood and the twigs at the end were a combination of Ash and Hazel.
"Don't you worry about that broom Harry. We only want to see how you fly. It's a data logging broom. It'll give us an idea of your reaction time and speed turning capability."
Said Ashanti waving at the beautiful broom dismissively.
Harry gaped at her but obediently mounted the broom.
It felt almost as good as his treasured old Firebolt.
"Give it a whirl Harry. And try and fly as you might have to in a game situation."
Said Patrick excitedly clasping his hands tightly together in anticipation.
Harry gently pushed off from the ground getting a feel for the way the broom flew.
It felt reassuringly solid beneath him, but it was as soon as he began to run through his basic training manoeuvres that Harry knew that Ashanti and Patrick were geniuses.
The broom almost flew itself.
Soon, Harry was performing his most daring stunts and difficult moves, but it felt almost frustratingly easy.
Forgetting all about Patrick, Ashanti and anything else Harry could only feel the cool breeze as he sliced through the air and the irrepressible urge he felt to push the broom beneath him to it's limit.
He dived and twisted and looped and feinted, he sped faster than he'd imagined possible upwards to where the air thinned and breathing was more difficult. Then suddenly, like a bird of prey, he plunged.
He had almost forgotten what he was doing, the exhilaration and pure adrenaline was unbelievable.
Almost too late he remembered the ground, which was rushing towards him like a banishing curse.
With all of his strength and his will he urged the broom upward and felt the whisper of grass against his knees before he finally came to rest.
When he practically stumbled from the broom and stretched his back languidly. He looked up and saw Ashanti Keilty and Patrick Morgan staring at him in a mixture of disbelief horror and awe.
"This is a really good broom."
Harry mumbled, suddenly embarrassed by his display.
"I… I've never seen it do anything like THAT!"
Exclaimed Ashanti pointing weakly at the sky.
"That was… Well it was… you… I'm speechless."
Murmured Patrick looking at Harry through frighteningly wide eyes.
Once the cousins had overcome their amazement they had hurried off and Harry had not heard a word from either of them for two months.
Then, the week before the last qudditch cup final that Harry would play in at Hogwarts, he received a package…
With a sense of deja-vu Harry hurried out of the Great Hall, trailed by Ron before the rest of the school could take interest in his decidedly broom-shaped package.
Afterwards, everyone present at the game had agreed that it was one of the most spectacular displays of quidditch they'd ever seen at the school. Harry's new broom had given him a freedom he'd never known before, he'd been able to follow his impulses and fly with the grace of an eagle.
The Gryffindors had also been boosted by the added speed of Harry's old firebolt, now appearing in the chaser's ranks.
Their opposition, Ravenclaw, had been able to hold out admirably well against the Gryffindor's, they were a decent side some of whom were already being scouted for professional quidditch teams. The game had ended with a daring catch by Harry swooping between two of the hoops at top speed to grab the snitch…
Harry looked down at his personal Morgan-Keilty broom with fondness as he reminisced of his last competitive game.
The broom shone in the sunlight and seemed to be trying to persuade him that it was a perfect time to be flying.
In whole-hearted agreement Harry mounted the broom and took to the air…
And that was how he was found later that morning when Severus Snape arrived at the house.
***
Severus growled irritably, his further attempts to improve on the Wolfsbane potion had once again proven fruitless and he was further aggrieved at the idea that he would soon be meeting Harry Potter for a training session.
He skimmed through Lupin's letter once more. It didn't surprise him that it had been the werewolf, and not Black, that had responded to his letter regarding Harry's tuition.
Then again, he supposed that it was slightly odd that no-one seemed to deem Harry capable of organising it himself.
Severus rolled his eyes. He couldn't understand the fools, they placed their hopes for redemption and the winning of the war on the shoulders of a young man that they seemed unwilling to stop coddling.
Well, he sure as hell wouldn't be going easy on the boy.
With that thought in mind he grabbed a couple of potions and his winter cloak and apparated to the edge of the wards surrounding 'Chaos Manor'.
He soon caught sight of the blur that he assumed to be The-Boy-Who-Lived.
After a couple of unintentional moments of admiring the young man's flying he caught himself and shouted out to him.
"Potter! Will you never get your head out of the clouds?!"
The blurry figure swooped down to him and Harry smiled in greeting.
"Nice to see you too Severus."
Snape scowled at him unhappy that the boy seemed so confident in using his first name. 'Damn Albus and his insistence on informality.' Thought the potions master hotly.
"Alright then Potter, put the broom away and lets get down to some serious work."
Harry seemed to ignore the slight on his choice of profession and even had the audacity to grin as he looked down at the broom in his hand.
He closed his eyes and a moment later the broom disappeared from his grip.
Snape rolled his eyes at the display of wandless magic. He'd seen all to well some of the boy's unusual abilities on that fateful Halloween night… 'No! Don't think about that now Severus, concentrate!'
"Right then Potter. Let's get started"
Snape smirked feeling the reassuring thrill of authority.
"First, fire-spells."
Harry's calm didn't appear to falter but Severus knew that one thing that Potter did not like was fire.
"Incinerate!" Snape yelled, all of a sudden sending the curse straight at Harry's head.
To his credit Potter reacted quickly dodging the spell and drawing his wand in the blink of an eye levelling it at his teacher.
"Well, you're still alive, but I can't say the same about the comrade who was standing behind you." Sneered Severus with a cold smile.
"Next time try blocking or deflecting."
Harry shivered but stared defiantly back at him his green gaze sharp with determination and gave a sharp nod.
He wasn't going to make that mistake again.
***
Harry soon found that his 'lessons' with Snape were going to push him to his limits. He'd never realised just how fast the Death Eater spy was with his wand.
Harry had resorted to disarming Snape far to frequently just so that he'd have a chance to keep up with the older man.
He knew it was probably just an immature urge to get one over on a figure of authority from his youth but Harry couldn't seem to stem the desire to prove that he could out-manoeuvre the Slytherin Head of House.
The exchanges of spells continued and the two hours seemed to fly past.
Harry felt that it wasn't so much new spells that he needed to learn, but more learning to utilise his knowledge more efficiently and to change his attitude.
He was fighting a war after all.
Gryffindor or not, sometimes a Slytherin sense of cunning was vital for survival.
Harry was keen to learn, and who better to teach him then the man who'd, for a time, deceived Lord Voldemort himself.
And so he listened to his tutor with keen ears and watched closely. He was going to prove to himself, and to Snape that he was good enough.
After all, some day, and probably sooner than he was comfortable with, he was going to have to prove it to Voldemort, and to the world of witches and wizards who were depending on him.
***
During the course of the next couple of hours Severus realised just how difficult this task was going to be.
Harry Potter obviously wasn't as incompetent at defence as he was at potions.
Harry had even managed to surprise Severus with his knowledge of a few arguably dark curses and hexes.
After dissipating the last of his defence shields Snape turned back to face his student, however, he was soon doubled over clutching his stomach.
"Tut tut 'professor' letting your guard down?"
Smirked Harry lowering his wand with a flick and releasing Snape from the mild tickling charm.
A glaring Severus Snape eventually left Chaos Manor at the start of dusk and looking back over the afternoon he was beginning to doubt just who Albus intended to be learning what from his tutelage of the Gryffindor heir.
It was only once he was safely ensconced in his home that Snape finally dropped his basic shield charm and congratulated himself on not having succumb to laughter at Harry's tickling charm.
He did, after all, have an image to maintain.
***
A/N
Woohoo!!!
Ahem, yeah, sorry. I've had at least 3 half-finished chapters stuck on my computer for a few weeks now and I'm sooooo pleased to have finished one!
I apologise that you've had to wait so long to read it.
I must thank those of you who've reviewed thus far. There's nothing more encouraging to a frazzled writer who needs a bit of encouragement. You're wonderful!
Ady – Yeah, it was one of those weird moments where a thought creeps into your brain like a timid little first-year and you have to coax it for a bit before it suddenly starts making some sense!!! Thankyou so much for your continued and immense support of me and my writing. It means a lot.
Kit Cloudkicker – I'm glad it was worth the wait, hope the same goes for this chapter!
Hmm, just 2 reviews for the last chapter. *shrugs*
Love yas!
jona
xxx