Disclaimer: ...yea...hold on...yep....still don't own it...

Morning Calls

Morning calls for pain relief

A line above the step beneath

The worst that you could do

And the best that you could hope for

Is hardly the best

Harry woke up early on the day of the final Quidditch match. Those old nerves he got right before every big match came flowing into his head. What is this was the time he screwed up? Harry tried to shake the thoughts from his head. He wasn't going to screw up. '1. Oliver would kill me and 2. We have been practicing all year for this, how could I mess up?' As far as Harry was concerned, as long as no one got a bludger to the head, it's been a good match.

Tepid water chase the pills

With turpentine and chamomile

And don't get cheap the wine

You need to be up all of the time

At breakfast, Harry sat with Ron and Hermione slowly sipping his pumpkin juice.

"Nervous, Harry?"

"Nervous?! Harry?! He's the best bloody seeker in all of Hogwarts!"

"Don't you start with me Ronald Weasley! That doesn't mean Harry can't still be nervous!"

Harry watched his two best friends fight with only half interest. Now he was getting a headache on top of all his nerves. Oh how he wished he had a fire whiskey right about now.

"HARRY!!"

Harry was jolted out of his wishful thoughts by Ron practically screaming his name.

"What?!"

"Jeeze mate, I hope you wake up pretty soon. You aren't going to be much help up there if you're asleep on your broom."

"I'll be fine," Harry lied. "I'm gonna go get changed now. See you after the match."

Shield your eyes, conceal you're lies

Harry pulled on his Quidditch robes and pads, trying very hard to convince himself that he would be fine. Even now, so long before the match, Harry could hear the murmur of students flooding the stands in large throngs.

Harry took a deep breath and grabbed his Firebolt. As he made his way to the great archway that lead to the pitch, his nerves steadied. Harry stepped into the bright sunlight, and as the roar of the crowd grew louder, he forgot about his nervousness altogether.

Don't blink,

Everyone's watching

They'll think;

You're up to something

They need for you to be

Everything they cannot

Excitement filled Harry's body. The wind blew through his hair, hitting his face. He couldn't wait to be up in the air it made him feel free. Free from every other worry in the world. When he was in the air, there was no Voldemort. There was no wondering weather or not him and his friends would live to see the next day. It was only him and the broom.

With that last thought, Harry mounted his broom, kicked off from the ground and flew up into the clouds.

And don't blink

Everyone's watching

They'll think

You're up to something

They need for you to be

Everything they cannot

Be themselves

Fin