Harry made up his mind in a matter of seconds. Crossing quickly to his desk, he took out a piece of parchment, an inkbottle and a quill. He loaded his quill and started to write, his hand going as fast as he had ever seen it before. His writing was sloppy, he had forgotten to dot a few of his 'i's, but he didn't care. After two minutes hard work he sat back, rubbing his hand, and read over his note.

I've just been invited to the England Quidditch Team Trials. I want to go, although I probably won't get on the team, but I want to try. I don't know how to get there, but I want my chance. I need advice.

Write back soon,

Harry

Satisfied, he rolled it up and waited for Hedwig to return, which she did a few minutes later. He hurried over to her and bound the scroll to her leg with a length of string from his desk. "Take this to the Headquarters of the Order, and hurry back with an answer," he said, stroking her white feathers lovingly. She gave a soft hoot of comprehension, and then took off, gliding gracefully upward and disappearing with a flash of white.

Harry watched her go for a few seconds and then walked back over to his Firebolt, which he again took hold of and began smearing with handle polish. As he looked down at the sleek shaft and bunched tail twigs of his broom, he envisioned himself weaving around a massive stadium, England banners flapping below him as thousands of screaming spectators watched his hand close in victory around the golden snitch. He did not know how long he sat there with that vision his mind, he was simply happy to have it.

The afternoon passed uneventfully, as Harry sat in waiting for the reply. He had thought for a second of telling the Dursleys his news during dinner, but thought that they would probably go back to their old standby of locking him in the cupboard under the stairs, and decided against it. To Harry's great relief, Hedwig returned later that evening, a rather quick flight considering she had gone to London and back. Harry looked up from reading "Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland" as he heard her familiar beak tap on the window, and he jumped up to let her in. He took the scroll of her leg and, feeling obliged to show gratitude for such a fast delivery, threw her a couple of owl treats before unrolling his letter.

Harry,

Congratulations on being invited to the trials, we're all thrilled for you here and knew that you had it in you. We had actually already been told the news (through connections in the Department of Magical Games & Sports) but were waiting for you to get the letter personally before acting. Dumbledore himself, who stopped in for a bit this afternoon, says he wouldn't want you to miss it for anything, and we have already made arrangements to come and collect you. Charlie Weasley and Tonks will come and get you tomorrow at one o'clock. You'll come here to Grimmauld Place for a few days and then Charlie and Tonks will escort you to the trials, and stay with you there. Dumbledore's already discussed things with the team captain, and he's all for it. Be ready to leave at one o'clock Harry, we can't wait to see you.

Regards,

Prof. Lupin

P.S. Your parents and Sirius would be proud.

The jubilation that Harry felt as he read the last line of Lupin's letter was greater than he had felt for months, and he imagined Sirius' face if he could hear the news. For the rest of the night Harry's head was filled with vivid pictures of him as the English seeker, and although sleep eventually overtook him, the images never left. Harry's bubble of happiness lasted all the way through the next morning, and into lunchtime. Even the furious shouts of Uncle Vernon, upon hearing that he would have a couple of wizard guests shortly after lunch, weren't enough to quell Harry's excitement.

At 12:30, Harry ran upstairs to pack his trunk and get his broom. As he did so, he wondered how Charlie and Tonks were going to get him, remembering Mr. Weasley's failed floo powder experiment that had resulted in a half-destroyed Dursley living room three summers ago. Resigning himself to the 'wait and see policy', he carried his trunk downstairs and set it by the door.

As the clock in the Dursley's kitchen chimed one, there was a soft knock at the door. Uncle Vernon, obviously anticipating the worst, moved like a bull towards the door and pulled it open fast, as if expecting a fight to be waiting on the other side. Harry, who was looking over his uncle's porky shoulder, smiled brightly as he recognized the two faces standing in the doorway. "Hi Tonks, hey Charlie" Harry called He was relieved to see that they were in Muggle clothes.

Tonks, today with spiky bubblegum pink hair, smiled politely at Uncle Vernon. "Hello," Tonks said cheerily. "We've met before, I'm Nym..."

"Take him!" Uncle Vernon interrupted sharply. "Take him, and leave!"

"Righto," Tonks said, undeterred by the rudeness. "Ready Harry?" she asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, taking a few steps forward. "How are we leaving?" he asked.

"Port key," Charlie said, stepping across the threshold and holding up an old toaster. "Leaves in," he checked his watch. "Two minutes. Ready?"

Uncle Vernon retreated down the corridor, where Harry saw his aunt and cousin's frightened faces peering around the living room door. He dragged his trunk forward a few feet, and then arranged himself so that he could have one hand on the toaster and his other on his trunk. For about another minute, the three stood casually around the toaster, as if this was a regular thing to be doing. Then, Charlie looked at his watch and smiled. "Here we go," he said, looking at the other two. "Three...two...one!"

Harry felt a jerk from somewhere behind his navel and his feet left the ground, as he sped through the air. After a few seconds they slowed, and Harry finally felt his feet touch the ground. He opened his eyes and found himself standing by the fireplace of number twelve Grimmauld Place, surrounded by a crowd of his favourite people in the world.