Author: CelestialDrgn, aka Celeste
Rating: PG-13
Category: AU, Drama/Romance
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, so don't sue! All you'll get is pocket lint. All my money goes towards my anime and Harry Potter possessions. Harry Potter is owned, however, by J. K. Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books publishing companies. Aside from Luke Cody, Adam, Marco, John, and Jake, none of the characters are mine, only the idea of my story. St. John Vianney school is also one of my creations. This is a work in progress, and is my first HP fanfic (that I will attempt to finish.) Send all comments/suggestions/flames to padfootmoonbellsouth.net.
::runs around waving Japanese paper fans frantically:: SLASH WARNING!!! SLASH WARNING!!! Implied Remus/Sirius pairing and slight Harry/Draco, you have been warned. ;
(lengthy) Author's Note at the end!
======
A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes (5/?)
Birds were chirping very cheerfully and obnoxiously loud early Saturday morning. Harry groaned softly and threw his uninjured arm over his eyes. 'I'm going to ask Dad for a thick canopy curtain for my bed,' he thought grumpily. Harry opened an eye and glared blearily at the slowly lightening window. He mumbled a silencing spell that was most effective in his world of Hogwarts, but to no avail. The birds kept calling and singing like there was no tomorrow. Sighing, Harry turned onto his side and pulled his blankets over his head... only for them to be ripped off his bed a minute later.
"Rise and shine! Come on, Harry, wakie wakie!" James sang, shaking his son's shoulder.
Harry weakly swat at his father's hand. "Go 'way," he grumbled, curling into a fetal position. His pillow was then pulled out from under his head. "Dad! What is it?" Harry squinted at the clock on his desk. "It's the arse- crack of dawn, I hope you know," he mumbled.
"Aww, ickle Harrykins is grumpy! No matter... time to get up!" With that said, James proceeded to tickle Harry awake.
"I give! I give! Stop, I'm awake!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up. "Now, what was so important?"
"We're going to play soccer, because you have practice this afternoon," James stated.
"But, my arm's in a cast."
"Harry, you use your feet. It would be considered a foul if you used your hands."
"I know that! But, I don't really remember how to play..."
"You will, it's like riding a bicycle, you never forget."
"I don't remember how to ride a bicycle..."
"Just get up, Harry."
Reluctantly, Harry climbed out of his warm bed, put on his glasses and pulled on a pair of black jogging pants and a green Puma brand soccer jersey. He then went to the bathroom to perform his morning toiletries, and walked downstairs where Lily was cooking breakfast. The scent of eggs and sausage filled the lower level of the house. Harry sat down heavily in one of the chairs. Lily looked up and smiled.
"Hello, dear," she greeted, setting down plates of food on the table.
Harry grumbled.
"Ray of sunshine, isn't he?" James said as he kissed his wife on the cheek and sat down. A few minutes later, a blearily-eyed, pyjama-clad Luke walked sleepily into the kitchen and to the table. He almost missed the chair until Harry pushed it in quickly behind his younger brother.
"Thanks, Harry," Luke said, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
The family ate and shortly after, Harry and his father were on their way to the park's soccer fields. James was telling Harry of his tales of soccer in his younger days as they parked. The two then grabbed from the boot a couple soccer balls, orange cones, and a sports bag containing two large bottles of water, snacks, towels, and a bottle of pain medicine ("Trust me, you'll want it later," James said). They walked onto the field and deposited the bag on the side.
"Okay, now hand me a ball and come with me," James said, taking the cones with him. James then set the cones up marking an obstacle course of sorts.
"The most important facet to soccer is ball control. If you can't control where the ball is headed toward, you've pretty much lost the game. It wouldn't do much good if you want to clear the ball and end up passing to the opposing team."
James flicked the ball up with his toe and juggled from his knee to his head then his chest and over again as he talked to Harry, then suddenly flicked it to his son. Harry unconsciously trapped the ball with his thigh, stepping back to let it drop in front of his feet.
"Good job! You just trapped the ball!" James exclaimed. "That move can be done with your head, chest, leg, or foot. You did it perfectly, since the goal is to let it drop to your feet so you can pass or whatever needs to be done at the moment. See, toss the ball to me, I'll show you."
Harry obediently picked up the ball and tossed it to his father. James squared his shoulders and trapped the ball with his chest, stepping back for it to land at his feet. James then demonstrated the proper way to run while dribbling the ball and how to stop and change directions while keeping the ball in control, all of which Harry picked up like a second nature. Pretty soon afterward, James was showing Harry how to pull off the scissors trick (a/n: you're gonna have to find the description online, basically it's a fake-left-and-go-right with fancy footwork).
"Okay... now, it's time for my favourite, the rainbow! This works really well if you want to pass back but you're completely covered. First..." James placed the ball by his feet. "You flick it like this... then you hit it with your laces just like that..." The soccer ball flew over James head and landed ten feet away from James back.
Harry walked over to the ball. He placed it right at his feet and slipped a little of his toes under the ball. He then flicked his foot upwards, hit it with his laces, and craned his neck watching the ball fly over his head.
"Excellent!" James exclaimed. "All right, this calls for a water break." The two then walked over to the sidelines.
Harry plopped down on the ground, opening his bottle of water, forcing himself to drink slowly rather than chugging it all down. James sat down in front of his son.
"That wasn't too hard, was it?"
Harry laughed. "It was pretty easy! It's much simpler than Quidditch, really, since it only involves one ball."
James paused in drinking. "I'm sorry, it's simpler than what?"
"Oh... Quidditch. It was one of the sports in my dream. You see, there are seven players, which are a keeper, three chasers, two beaters, and a seeker, which is what I was. The chasers pass a ball between each other, the Quaffle. It's kind of like basketball, because they try to shoot the ball into one of these three hoops. Then the beaters, they're in charge of protecting their teammates from these two Bludgers, which are enchanted to fly around and hit people. I got my arm broken by one in second year. Keepers, you know what they do, and seekers try to find a small golden ball, the Snitch, about the size of a walnut. When the seeker catches it, their team gains one hundred fifty points, and it ends the game. That still doesn't guarantee that the team that catches it will win, because in the Quidditch cup my fourth year, Ireland won even though Bulgaria caught the Snitch. Oh, and it's played on brooms," Harry added as an afterthought.
James just stared at his son. "You got hit quite hard, didn't you?"
Harry laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." Harry sipped at his water thoughtfully. "When did Dr. Lambton say I was getting this cast off?"
"Before you go to school don't worry. Oh, and next week we're going to get your schedule for your classes, I think your friends are coming with us."
Harry and his father stayed at the park, eating their lunch at a nearby restaurant, and going back for Harry's practice at 1 o'clock. Harry stared when he saw Oliver Wood step onto the field, followed by Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and the Weasley twins, along with other boys Harry did not know. Oliver walked over to Harry.
"Hello, Potter! I see you're feeling better; I wanted to thank you for winning that game last week. Are you going to be practicing with us today?"
"Yeah, my Dad dragged me here, actually," Harry responded. He then looked to his father and smiled. "You can go now, Dad!"
James smiled at his son and their captain and left, walking to the store to pick up some things.
The soccer team warmed up with a quick lap around the field. They then stretched and did running exercises before the team split up in to pairs to practice one-on-one. Harry was paired with Dean Thomas.
"Hey, Harry! How are you feeling?" Dean asked as they walked to an open spot on the field. They set up orange cones as temporary goal posts on both of their ends. Dean passed the ball to Harry, allowing him to start.
"I could be better, I'm still getting used to not having my memory," Harry said, shooting the ball to Dean's right.
Dean missed the ball, 0-1. "You lost your memory? I didn't hear that part of it."
"Yeah, I can only remember some people, and that's about it."
Dean tried a scissors move on Harry, but Harry blocked it with his shin and chipped the ball, making it land neatly beyond Dean's cones. Dean looked behind him, then back at Harry.
"Damn you!" Dean scoffed.
Harry laughed.
Later, the team practiced "Keep Away" with two teams of five. Dean, Harry, Fred, and two boys Cody and Adam were on one team, Seamus, George, and three other boys Marco, John, and Jake on the opposition. The team that had possession of the ball had to keep the ball away from the other team for ten minutes straight in order to win. As Cody was passing to Fred, George intercepted the ball and passed quickly to Seamus. Seamus' team nearly made it the whole ten minutes passing between themselves until Jake accidentally passed the ball to Fred, thinking he was George. Harry's team won. After a twenty minute scrimmage, the boys were dismissed.
Harry walked over to where his father was waiting, calmly reading a book. He sat beside his father and James looked up. "Oh, you're done?"
"Yep! Are you ready to go? Because I already finished that whole bottle of water and those oranges, and I desperately need a shower."
"Yeah, I'm ready. Oh, and you'd better shower quickly because we're going to have some guests over."
"Really? Who?" Harry asked, picking up the sports bag and walking towards their car.
"Sirius and Remus," James replied, unlocking the car.
Harry stared. "Really?"
James looked at his son. "Do you remember them?"
"Sirius was my godfather and Remus was a teacher at my school, and they were your best mates. Except, Sirius was an escaped convict for a crime he didn't commit and Remus was a werewolf."
Silence followed.
Harry coughed politely. "I meant to say, yes, I remember them."
James climbed into the car, mumbling about a CT scan.
Harry playfully punched his father's arm. "I don't need a CT scan!"
James laughed. "I was kidding. Anyway, they are my best mates, Sirius is your godfather, and Remus is his best mate and boyfriend."
Harry gawked. "Sirius and Remus?"
"Does it bother you?"
"I just didn't expect that..."
"Remus also teaches at your school."
Harry looked up. "What does he teach?"
"Theology," replied James. He started the car and drove home.
"Do we go to church?" Harry asked while looking out the window at the unfamiliar scenery he was growing accustomed to.
"Yes, we're Catholic. We'll go to Mass tomorrow, so sleep early. We couldn't go last week because that was when you were discharged from the hospital."
The rest of the ride home was in comfortable silence. As soon as they arrived, Harry took a long shower to soothe his aching muscles. When he came back downstairs in faded jeans and a blue soccer jersey, Harry could hear voices coming from the living room. He was greeted by the sight of Sirius and Remus, sitting on the couch and holding hands. Harry stood in the background for a while, absorbing the image of the two men. After a minute, Harry smiled to himself. 'They look happy,' he thought. Remus was the one who looked up and noticed Harry for the first time.
"Hello there, Harry! How has your summer been?" Remus asked, standing up and hugging the boy.
"It's been fine," he replied, returning the hug with one arm. Harry beamed at Sirius who grinned back at him.
"How's my godson? We heard about your amnesia, but you seem to remember us."
Harry gave a one-armed hug to his godfather. "Yeah, I remember people, but not anything else. But, it's only been a week, so I'm not getting my hopes up for any time soon."
"Wise boy you have here, Jamesie," Sirius said, ruffling Harry's already messy locks.
Harry protested Sirius' playing with his hair, and Remus was the first to notice Harry's new scar.
"Wow, did you get that along with the broken arm?" Remus asked, brushing Harry's bangs from his forehead and exposing the scar. The new skin was still pink, and the stitches were almost completely gone, as the doctors used thread that dissolved as the wound healed.
"And yet he wins the game," James said proudly.
Harry blushed, unused to all the attention he was getting.
The front door opened and in came Lily and Luke. Seeing their guests, Luke ran over and gave Remus, his godparent, and Sirius a hug.
"Hey there, big guy!" Remus exclaimed, picking up Luke and twirling him in the air. Luke let out a peal of laughter, and continued laughing as Remus tickled the boy senseless. Sirius greeted Lily and helped Remus tickle Luke, who then ran behind Harry for protection. Harry picked Luke up and carried him on his back. Harry smirked as Luke blew both men a raspberry.
The rest of the evening continued with much laughter and everyone ate their fill. Luke went to bed after Sirius and Remus left. Harry helped his mother clean up, then was shooed to bed because of church the next morning. Harry prepared for bed, and dreamt of soccer.
======
Early the next morning, Harry was awoken by Lily. Harry ate breakfast before changing, since he had no clue whether or not to dress up. His father was in a nice shirt and trousers, so Harry followed his example. Harry had to help Luke button his shirt and tie his shoes, and soon the family was on their way to church.
The church was actually a cathedral which had been built four hundred years before. Harry was awestruck by the magnificent stained-glass windows depicting the Passion, the events that led to Jesus' death and resurrection. The choir was in the very back of the cathedral, singing all the songs and responses in eight-part harmony. Harry savored the first reading, responsorial hymn, and second reading, and Gospel, and listened entranced to the homily. By the time it came for Communion, however, Harry became nervous. He could not remember taking Communion before. He tried thinking back to when the Dursleys took him to church those few times when he was younger, but he had barely paid attention, and the church was not Catholic. Harry glanced at his parents, panic written on his face. James had his eyes closed in prayer, but Lily looked at her son and smiled comfortingly.
"When you go to up to the priest or Eucharistic Minister, you hold your hands out like this," she showed him by holding her hands lightly cupped in front of her. "Then you put it in your mouth. Don't chew it like you're chewing gum, because that would be disrespect, and pretty gross."
Harry chuckled nervously.
"Just follow my example, since I'm in front of you," Lily said as their row stood up to receive the Eucharist.
Harry did as he was told when he reached the deacon who was giving out the Communion on their side of the church. Harry tasted the little wafer he had in his mouth; it was dry, and tasted papery, but all right just the same. As he came back to their pew, Harry followed in everyone's example and kneeled down as soon as his father, who was the last one into their pew, put down the kneeler. After the remaining Communion was put up in the Tabernacle, a golden box type, almost like a safe as it was locked with a key, everyone stood. The deacon read the announcements regarding the parish, and after the closing song, everyone left.
"So Harry, what did you think about Mass?" James asked as they were driving back home.
"It was... different than I expected. I thought it might be like those preachers who claim they can heal people through Jesus, like those people on the tely," he replied. "Church was... peaceful."
Luke was giving Harry a weird look. Harry looked over at his brother. "What's wrong?"
"You've always gone to Mass with us, how come you couldn't remember how Mass was like?"
Lily laughed. "Because when your brother got hurt, he lost some of his memory. He couldn't remember how church was like."
Luke frowned. "But he remembered who we were, how can he remember who we were and not how Mass is like?"
Harry smiled at Luke. "I know how its like now, Luke. Don't worry."
Luke looked at him and shrugged. "Okay."
James and Lily just gave each other an amused smile.
======
A week passed quickly spent practicing soccer and spending time with Hermione, Ron, and Draco. Ron and Hermione were the same as they had been at Hogwarts, but Draco was completely different from the obnoxious boy he had known growing up at Hogwarts. Harry learned that Draco loved classical music, and loved dance. Draco had been taking all kinds of dance lessons since he was younger, and was especially talented in jazz. Draco was also pretty decent at soccer, and even attended one of Harry's practices. Draco had been on Harry's team when they had scrimmaged with all thirteen members of the London Under 18 soccer league, and scored one of the four winning goals. The soccer team had made it to the finals and was to play against the Under 18 league of Canterbury.
Harry also discovered a hidden talent of his own, which was art. While looking through his desk, Harry found several sketchbooks filled with drawings. A whole drawer was dedicated to coloured pencils, oil pastels, charcoal pencils, and markers. He also found a schedule from tenth year, his first year at St. John Vianney. He had taken English, Theology (Scripture), Algebra I, Art, Biology, Latin I, and History. Harry figured that his classes for this year would be similar.
Harry was sitting in his room drawing, finding the skill came easily to him. He leaned comfortably against his headboard, making bold and precise strokes on the paper. An elegant stag stood confidently in the center of the page surrounded by forest. A soft knock on his door did not disturb his work.
"Come in," he said distractedly.
Draco peeked inside the room. Harry looked up and smiled at his visitor. Draco was wearing his hair tied back with a silver stud in his left ear. He wore a cheery yellow shirt with a smiley face that asked for people to "Have a Nice Day," along with tattered jeans.
"Hey, how are you?"
Draco walked in the room and sat beside Harry. "I'm fine... that's a good sketch."
"Thanks... I didn't know I could draw, but apparently I can." Harry lightly traced the piece of charcoal on the paper. He had smudges of charcoal on his face from where he scratched his cheek.
Draco saw the smudge and chuckled.
"Harry, mate, you've gotten some charcoal on your cheek, right here," he said, and gently rubbed at the mark with his thumb.
Harry's hand hesitated when Draco touched his cheek. Draco kept gently stroking Harry's cheek and shyly looked into his eyes. Harry stared back at him with wide eyes. The blonde gave an apologetic smile and lowered his hand.
"What was that?" Harry asked softly.
"So, are you ready to go get our schedules?" Draco said abruptly changing the subject and looking away.
"I... I suppose."
"Let's go then," he said, standing up.
Harry put his drawing on the desk and followed Draco out of the room. Downstairs, his parents were getting ready to leave. James and Lily looked up at hearing footsteps and smiled. Once Draco climbed down the stairs, Luke launched himself onto Draco's back.
"GAH! Oh, it's you, Luke."
Luke laughed. Harry smirked and ruffled Luke's hair, and walked past the two to his parents.
"Are we leaving now?"
"Yes."
All five of then piled into the car and Luke chattered away to Draco and Harry the entire way to one of the offices that John Vianney had in London. Both of the boys walked up to the clerk who looked up their names and printed out their schedules. Harry stared at his. Chemistry, Latin II, Chorus, Geometry, Theology, History, and Shakespeare. Harry blanched. Chorus?!
"Um, excuse me... I was put down for chorus instead of art, could you change this please?" Harry asked the clerk.
She nodded and typed in what Harry requested. She then frowned. "I'm sorry, but art is completely taken up. The only other class you could take is chorus, or else you would lose the other classes you requested for."
Draco had to stifle back laughter.
Harry looked pleadingly at the clerk. "But, there has to be a way for you to change this! I can't sing!"
"I'm sorry, but unless you can give up one of your other classes, you can't take art."
Harry sighed dejectedly. "Thanks anyway," he mumbled. Draco and he walked back to Harry's parents and Harry showed them his schedule.
"Why were you put in chorus instead of art? Did you want to take it?" Lily asked.
"No, but art was all taken up the periods I could have had it, so they had to stick me in chorus. I can read notes anyway, so I'll just give it a try," Harry replied.
"All right, now you need to get your books," said James. Luke rode on his father's back as the five of them went to the bookshop in the building. All of the books Harry recieved for his classes were hardback except for the Theology textbook and the seven paperback books required for Shakespeare. Harry felt like he was back in second year with the whole collection of Lockhart's books. After the books were paid for, Draco and his family left.
"Why me?" Harry whined.
Draco just chuckled. "Dunno mate, but this should prove interesting."
Harry had a feeling that 'interesting' would prove to be an understatement.
======
Author's Note: ::Whoops with joy:: 25 reviews total!!! ::gives cookie to every person who has reviewed and/or read story:: Gratem multus to LLY, ShiTiger ((yes, it will be slash in the future, so don't worry!)), Bandit- Lone-Wolf ((sorry for making you freak out!)), Catarotta-Briefs, nightwing, ncgal, Leena-and-Earlie, my faithful beta reader WhiteTiger19291, Sardidus- Sky, and all you other peeps out there! The anonymous review a few chapters back was by Erin, I didn't see her name on the review because I kinda glanced at it too fast, sorry! If you guys think this fic is kinda weird and out-there, it's about to get worse. ::maniacal laughter:: Welcome to the world of Catholic schooling! Also, if you're a very devout Catholic/Christian and/or are very touchy about religion, you may not want to continue further, and I want to thank you for reading what you have read so far. And if you're offended/uncomfortable with the thought of two boys having romantic relations with each other, you may want to drop this fic and search for a nice, het ficcy. I haven't read any, so I can't give you any suggestions to ones that are very well written (unless you like Pokemon Ash/Misty fics), and I know there are many, much more talented writers out there in the 'net. Also, Trisha corrected me on the fact that CCR was mid 70's, early 80's. So much for asking my dad (Trisha's advice: never trust people who like Air Supply). ::twitch:: With that said, until next time!
Rating: PG-13
Category: AU, Drama/Romance
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, so don't sue! All you'll get is pocket lint. All my money goes towards my anime and Harry Potter possessions. Harry Potter is owned, however, by J. K. Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books publishing companies. Aside from Luke Cody, Adam, Marco, John, and Jake, none of the characters are mine, only the idea of my story. St. John Vianney school is also one of my creations. This is a work in progress, and is my first HP fanfic (that I will attempt to finish.) Send all comments/suggestions/flames to padfootmoonbellsouth.net.
::runs around waving Japanese paper fans frantically:: SLASH WARNING!!! SLASH WARNING!!! Implied Remus/Sirius pairing and slight Harry/Draco, you have been warned. ;
(lengthy) Author's Note at the end!
======
A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes (5/?)
Birds were chirping very cheerfully and obnoxiously loud early Saturday morning. Harry groaned softly and threw his uninjured arm over his eyes. 'I'm going to ask Dad for a thick canopy curtain for my bed,' he thought grumpily. Harry opened an eye and glared blearily at the slowly lightening window. He mumbled a silencing spell that was most effective in his world of Hogwarts, but to no avail. The birds kept calling and singing like there was no tomorrow. Sighing, Harry turned onto his side and pulled his blankets over his head... only for them to be ripped off his bed a minute later.
"Rise and shine! Come on, Harry, wakie wakie!" James sang, shaking his son's shoulder.
Harry weakly swat at his father's hand. "Go 'way," he grumbled, curling into a fetal position. His pillow was then pulled out from under his head. "Dad! What is it?" Harry squinted at the clock on his desk. "It's the arse- crack of dawn, I hope you know," he mumbled.
"Aww, ickle Harrykins is grumpy! No matter... time to get up!" With that said, James proceeded to tickle Harry awake.
"I give! I give! Stop, I'm awake!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up. "Now, what was so important?"
"We're going to play soccer, because you have practice this afternoon," James stated.
"But, my arm's in a cast."
"Harry, you use your feet. It would be considered a foul if you used your hands."
"I know that! But, I don't really remember how to play..."
"You will, it's like riding a bicycle, you never forget."
"I don't remember how to ride a bicycle..."
"Just get up, Harry."
Reluctantly, Harry climbed out of his warm bed, put on his glasses and pulled on a pair of black jogging pants and a green Puma brand soccer jersey. He then went to the bathroom to perform his morning toiletries, and walked downstairs where Lily was cooking breakfast. The scent of eggs and sausage filled the lower level of the house. Harry sat down heavily in one of the chairs. Lily looked up and smiled.
"Hello, dear," she greeted, setting down plates of food on the table.
Harry grumbled.
"Ray of sunshine, isn't he?" James said as he kissed his wife on the cheek and sat down. A few minutes later, a blearily-eyed, pyjama-clad Luke walked sleepily into the kitchen and to the table. He almost missed the chair until Harry pushed it in quickly behind his younger brother.
"Thanks, Harry," Luke said, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
The family ate and shortly after, Harry and his father were on their way to the park's soccer fields. James was telling Harry of his tales of soccer in his younger days as they parked. The two then grabbed from the boot a couple soccer balls, orange cones, and a sports bag containing two large bottles of water, snacks, towels, and a bottle of pain medicine ("Trust me, you'll want it later," James said). They walked onto the field and deposited the bag on the side.
"Okay, now hand me a ball and come with me," James said, taking the cones with him. James then set the cones up marking an obstacle course of sorts.
"The most important facet to soccer is ball control. If you can't control where the ball is headed toward, you've pretty much lost the game. It wouldn't do much good if you want to clear the ball and end up passing to the opposing team."
James flicked the ball up with his toe and juggled from his knee to his head then his chest and over again as he talked to Harry, then suddenly flicked it to his son. Harry unconsciously trapped the ball with his thigh, stepping back to let it drop in front of his feet.
"Good job! You just trapped the ball!" James exclaimed. "That move can be done with your head, chest, leg, or foot. You did it perfectly, since the goal is to let it drop to your feet so you can pass or whatever needs to be done at the moment. See, toss the ball to me, I'll show you."
Harry obediently picked up the ball and tossed it to his father. James squared his shoulders and trapped the ball with his chest, stepping back for it to land at his feet. James then demonstrated the proper way to run while dribbling the ball and how to stop and change directions while keeping the ball in control, all of which Harry picked up like a second nature. Pretty soon afterward, James was showing Harry how to pull off the scissors trick (a/n: you're gonna have to find the description online, basically it's a fake-left-and-go-right with fancy footwork).
"Okay... now, it's time for my favourite, the rainbow! This works really well if you want to pass back but you're completely covered. First..." James placed the ball by his feet. "You flick it like this... then you hit it with your laces just like that..." The soccer ball flew over James head and landed ten feet away from James back.
Harry walked over to the ball. He placed it right at his feet and slipped a little of his toes under the ball. He then flicked his foot upwards, hit it with his laces, and craned his neck watching the ball fly over his head.
"Excellent!" James exclaimed. "All right, this calls for a water break." The two then walked over to the sidelines.
Harry plopped down on the ground, opening his bottle of water, forcing himself to drink slowly rather than chugging it all down. James sat down in front of his son.
"That wasn't too hard, was it?"
Harry laughed. "It was pretty easy! It's much simpler than Quidditch, really, since it only involves one ball."
James paused in drinking. "I'm sorry, it's simpler than what?"
"Oh... Quidditch. It was one of the sports in my dream. You see, there are seven players, which are a keeper, three chasers, two beaters, and a seeker, which is what I was. The chasers pass a ball between each other, the Quaffle. It's kind of like basketball, because they try to shoot the ball into one of these three hoops. Then the beaters, they're in charge of protecting their teammates from these two Bludgers, which are enchanted to fly around and hit people. I got my arm broken by one in second year. Keepers, you know what they do, and seekers try to find a small golden ball, the Snitch, about the size of a walnut. When the seeker catches it, their team gains one hundred fifty points, and it ends the game. That still doesn't guarantee that the team that catches it will win, because in the Quidditch cup my fourth year, Ireland won even though Bulgaria caught the Snitch. Oh, and it's played on brooms," Harry added as an afterthought.
James just stared at his son. "You got hit quite hard, didn't you?"
Harry laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." Harry sipped at his water thoughtfully. "When did Dr. Lambton say I was getting this cast off?"
"Before you go to school don't worry. Oh, and next week we're going to get your schedule for your classes, I think your friends are coming with us."
Harry and his father stayed at the park, eating their lunch at a nearby restaurant, and going back for Harry's practice at 1 o'clock. Harry stared when he saw Oliver Wood step onto the field, followed by Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and the Weasley twins, along with other boys Harry did not know. Oliver walked over to Harry.
"Hello, Potter! I see you're feeling better; I wanted to thank you for winning that game last week. Are you going to be practicing with us today?"
"Yeah, my Dad dragged me here, actually," Harry responded. He then looked to his father and smiled. "You can go now, Dad!"
James smiled at his son and their captain and left, walking to the store to pick up some things.
The soccer team warmed up with a quick lap around the field. They then stretched and did running exercises before the team split up in to pairs to practice one-on-one. Harry was paired with Dean Thomas.
"Hey, Harry! How are you feeling?" Dean asked as they walked to an open spot on the field. They set up orange cones as temporary goal posts on both of their ends. Dean passed the ball to Harry, allowing him to start.
"I could be better, I'm still getting used to not having my memory," Harry said, shooting the ball to Dean's right.
Dean missed the ball, 0-1. "You lost your memory? I didn't hear that part of it."
"Yeah, I can only remember some people, and that's about it."
Dean tried a scissors move on Harry, but Harry blocked it with his shin and chipped the ball, making it land neatly beyond Dean's cones. Dean looked behind him, then back at Harry.
"Damn you!" Dean scoffed.
Harry laughed.
Later, the team practiced "Keep Away" with two teams of five. Dean, Harry, Fred, and two boys Cody and Adam were on one team, Seamus, George, and three other boys Marco, John, and Jake on the opposition. The team that had possession of the ball had to keep the ball away from the other team for ten minutes straight in order to win. As Cody was passing to Fred, George intercepted the ball and passed quickly to Seamus. Seamus' team nearly made it the whole ten minutes passing between themselves until Jake accidentally passed the ball to Fred, thinking he was George. Harry's team won. After a twenty minute scrimmage, the boys were dismissed.
Harry walked over to where his father was waiting, calmly reading a book. He sat beside his father and James looked up. "Oh, you're done?"
"Yep! Are you ready to go? Because I already finished that whole bottle of water and those oranges, and I desperately need a shower."
"Yeah, I'm ready. Oh, and you'd better shower quickly because we're going to have some guests over."
"Really? Who?" Harry asked, picking up the sports bag and walking towards their car.
"Sirius and Remus," James replied, unlocking the car.
Harry stared. "Really?"
James looked at his son. "Do you remember them?"
"Sirius was my godfather and Remus was a teacher at my school, and they were your best mates. Except, Sirius was an escaped convict for a crime he didn't commit and Remus was a werewolf."
Silence followed.
Harry coughed politely. "I meant to say, yes, I remember them."
James climbed into the car, mumbling about a CT scan.
Harry playfully punched his father's arm. "I don't need a CT scan!"
James laughed. "I was kidding. Anyway, they are my best mates, Sirius is your godfather, and Remus is his best mate and boyfriend."
Harry gawked. "Sirius and Remus?"
"Does it bother you?"
"I just didn't expect that..."
"Remus also teaches at your school."
Harry looked up. "What does he teach?"
"Theology," replied James. He started the car and drove home.
"Do we go to church?" Harry asked while looking out the window at the unfamiliar scenery he was growing accustomed to.
"Yes, we're Catholic. We'll go to Mass tomorrow, so sleep early. We couldn't go last week because that was when you were discharged from the hospital."
The rest of the ride home was in comfortable silence. As soon as they arrived, Harry took a long shower to soothe his aching muscles. When he came back downstairs in faded jeans and a blue soccer jersey, Harry could hear voices coming from the living room. He was greeted by the sight of Sirius and Remus, sitting on the couch and holding hands. Harry stood in the background for a while, absorbing the image of the two men. After a minute, Harry smiled to himself. 'They look happy,' he thought. Remus was the one who looked up and noticed Harry for the first time.
"Hello there, Harry! How has your summer been?" Remus asked, standing up and hugging the boy.
"It's been fine," he replied, returning the hug with one arm. Harry beamed at Sirius who grinned back at him.
"How's my godson? We heard about your amnesia, but you seem to remember us."
Harry gave a one-armed hug to his godfather. "Yeah, I remember people, but not anything else. But, it's only been a week, so I'm not getting my hopes up for any time soon."
"Wise boy you have here, Jamesie," Sirius said, ruffling Harry's already messy locks.
Harry protested Sirius' playing with his hair, and Remus was the first to notice Harry's new scar.
"Wow, did you get that along with the broken arm?" Remus asked, brushing Harry's bangs from his forehead and exposing the scar. The new skin was still pink, and the stitches were almost completely gone, as the doctors used thread that dissolved as the wound healed.
"And yet he wins the game," James said proudly.
Harry blushed, unused to all the attention he was getting.
The front door opened and in came Lily and Luke. Seeing their guests, Luke ran over and gave Remus, his godparent, and Sirius a hug.
"Hey there, big guy!" Remus exclaimed, picking up Luke and twirling him in the air. Luke let out a peal of laughter, and continued laughing as Remus tickled the boy senseless. Sirius greeted Lily and helped Remus tickle Luke, who then ran behind Harry for protection. Harry picked Luke up and carried him on his back. Harry smirked as Luke blew both men a raspberry.
The rest of the evening continued with much laughter and everyone ate their fill. Luke went to bed after Sirius and Remus left. Harry helped his mother clean up, then was shooed to bed because of church the next morning. Harry prepared for bed, and dreamt of soccer.
======
Early the next morning, Harry was awoken by Lily. Harry ate breakfast before changing, since he had no clue whether or not to dress up. His father was in a nice shirt and trousers, so Harry followed his example. Harry had to help Luke button his shirt and tie his shoes, and soon the family was on their way to church.
The church was actually a cathedral which had been built four hundred years before. Harry was awestruck by the magnificent stained-glass windows depicting the Passion, the events that led to Jesus' death and resurrection. The choir was in the very back of the cathedral, singing all the songs and responses in eight-part harmony. Harry savored the first reading, responsorial hymn, and second reading, and Gospel, and listened entranced to the homily. By the time it came for Communion, however, Harry became nervous. He could not remember taking Communion before. He tried thinking back to when the Dursleys took him to church those few times when he was younger, but he had barely paid attention, and the church was not Catholic. Harry glanced at his parents, panic written on his face. James had his eyes closed in prayer, but Lily looked at her son and smiled comfortingly.
"When you go to up to the priest or Eucharistic Minister, you hold your hands out like this," she showed him by holding her hands lightly cupped in front of her. "Then you put it in your mouth. Don't chew it like you're chewing gum, because that would be disrespect, and pretty gross."
Harry chuckled nervously.
"Just follow my example, since I'm in front of you," Lily said as their row stood up to receive the Eucharist.
Harry did as he was told when he reached the deacon who was giving out the Communion on their side of the church. Harry tasted the little wafer he had in his mouth; it was dry, and tasted papery, but all right just the same. As he came back to their pew, Harry followed in everyone's example and kneeled down as soon as his father, who was the last one into their pew, put down the kneeler. After the remaining Communion was put up in the Tabernacle, a golden box type, almost like a safe as it was locked with a key, everyone stood. The deacon read the announcements regarding the parish, and after the closing song, everyone left.
"So Harry, what did you think about Mass?" James asked as they were driving back home.
"It was... different than I expected. I thought it might be like those preachers who claim they can heal people through Jesus, like those people on the tely," he replied. "Church was... peaceful."
Luke was giving Harry a weird look. Harry looked over at his brother. "What's wrong?"
"You've always gone to Mass with us, how come you couldn't remember how Mass was like?"
Lily laughed. "Because when your brother got hurt, he lost some of his memory. He couldn't remember how church was like."
Luke frowned. "But he remembered who we were, how can he remember who we were and not how Mass is like?"
Harry smiled at Luke. "I know how its like now, Luke. Don't worry."
Luke looked at him and shrugged. "Okay."
James and Lily just gave each other an amused smile.
======
A week passed quickly spent practicing soccer and spending time with Hermione, Ron, and Draco. Ron and Hermione were the same as they had been at Hogwarts, but Draco was completely different from the obnoxious boy he had known growing up at Hogwarts. Harry learned that Draco loved classical music, and loved dance. Draco had been taking all kinds of dance lessons since he was younger, and was especially talented in jazz. Draco was also pretty decent at soccer, and even attended one of Harry's practices. Draco had been on Harry's team when they had scrimmaged with all thirteen members of the London Under 18 soccer league, and scored one of the four winning goals. The soccer team had made it to the finals and was to play against the Under 18 league of Canterbury.
Harry also discovered a hidden talent of his own, which was art. While looking through his desk, Harry found several sketchbooks filled with drawings. A whole drawer was dedicated to coloured pencils, oil pastels, charcoal pencils, and markers. He also found a schedule from tenth year, his first year at St. John Vianney. He had taken English, Theology (Scripture), Algebra I, Art, Biology, Latin I, and History. Harry figured that his classes for this year would be similar.
Harry was sitting in his room drawing, finding the skill came easily to him. He leaned comfortably against his headboard, making bold and precise strokes on the paper. An elegant stag stood confidently in the center of the page surrounded by forest. A soft knock on his door did not disturb his work.
"Come in," he said distractedly.
Draco peeked inside the room. Harry looked up and smiled at his visitor. Draco was wearing his hair tied back with a silver stud in his left ear. He wore a cheery yellow shirt with a smiley face that asked for people to "Have a Nice Day," along with tattered jeans.
"Hey, how are you?"
Draco walked in the room and sat beside Harry. "I'm fine... that's a good sketch."
"Thanks... I didn't know I could draw, but apparently I can." Harry lightly traced the piece of charcoal on the paper. He had smudges of charcoal on his face from where he scratched his cheek.
Draco saw the smudge and chuckled.
"Harry, mate, you've gotten some charcoal on your cheek, right here," he said, and gently rubbed at the mark with his thumb.
Harry's hand hesitated when Draco touched his cheek. Draco kept gently stroking Harry's cheek and shyly looked into his eyes. Harry stared back at him with wide eyes. The blonde gave an apologetic smile and lowered his hand.
"What was that?" Harry asked softly.
"So, are you ready to go get our schedules?" Draco said abruptly changing the subject and looking away.
"I... I suppose."
"Let's go then," he said, standing up.
Harry put his drawing on the desk and followed Draco out of the room. Downstairs, his parents were getting ready to leave. James and Lily looked up at hearing footsteps and smiled. Once Draco climbed down the stairs, Luke launched himself onto Draco's back.
"GAH! Oh, it's you, Luke."
Luke laughed. Harry smirked and ruffled Luke's hair, and walked past the two to his parents.
"Are we leaving now?"
"Yes."
All five of then piled into the car and Luke chattered away to Draco and Harry the entire way to one of the offices that John Vianney had in London. Both of the boys walked up to the clerk who looked up their names and printed out their schedules. Harry stared at his. Chemistry, Latin II, Chorus, Geometry, Theology, History, and Shakespeare. Harry blanched. Chorus?!
"Um, excuse me... I was put down for chorus instead of art, could you change this please?" Harry asked the clerk.
She nodded and typed in what Harry requested. She then frowned. "I'm sorry, but art is completely taken up. The only other class you could take is chorus, or else you would lose the other classes you requested for."
Draco had to stifle back laughter.
Harry looked pleadingly at the clerk. "But, there has to be a way for you to change this! I can't sing!"
"I'm sorry, but unless you can give up one of your other classes, you can't take art."
Harry sighed dejectedly. "Thanks anyway," he mumbled. Draco and he walked back to Harry's parents and Harry showed them his schedule.
"Why were you put in chorus instead of art? Did you want to take it?" Lily asked.
"No, but art was all taken up the periods I could have had it, so they had to stick me in chorus. I can read notes anyway, so I'll just give it a try," Harry replied.
"All right, now you need to get your books," said James. Luke rode on his father's back as the five of them went to the bookshop in the building. All of the books Harry recieved for his classes were hardback except for the Theology textbook and the seven paperback books required for Shakespeare. Harry felt like he was back in second year with the whole collection of Lockhart's books. After the books were paid for, Draco and his family left.
"Why me?" Harry whined.
Draco just chuckled. "Dunno mate, but this should prove interesting."
Harry had a feeling that 'interesting' would prove to be an understatement.
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Author's Note: ::Whoops with joy:: 25 reviews total!!! ::gives cookie to every person who has reviewed and/or read story:: Gratem multus to LLY, ShiTiger ((yes, it will be slash in the future, so don't worry!)), Bandit- Lone-Wolf ((sorry for making you freak out!)), Catarotta-Briefs, nightwing, ncgal, Leena-and-Earlie, my faithful beta reader WhiteTiger19291, Sardidus- Sky, and all you other peeps out there! The anonymous review a few chapters back was by Erin, I didn't see her name on the review because I kinda glanced at it too fast, sorry! If you guys think this fic is kinda weird and out-there, it's about to get worse. ::maniacal laughter:: Welcome to the world of Catholic schooling! Also, if you're a very devout Catholic/Christian and/or are very touchy about religion, you may not want to continue further, and I want to thank you for reading what you have read so far. And if you're offended/uncomfortable with the thought of two boys having romantic relations with each other, you may want to drop this fic and search for a nice, het ficcy. I haven't read any, so I can't give you any suggestions to ones that are very well written (unless you like Pokemon Ash/Misty fics), and I know there are many, much more talented writers out there in the 'net. Also, Trisha corrected me on the fact that CCR was mid 70's, early 80's. So much for asking my dad (Trisha's advice: never trust people who like Air Supply). ::twitch:: With that said, until next time!