Summary: With the war over and Harry graduating from Hogwarts, Harry needs to meet some basic needs: a steady income and a place to live. Oliver can offer both if Harry is willing to take advantage of the opportunity. Slash Wood x Potter
Author-ness: Hewo! How are you all doing? This lovely fanfic takes place after the 'war' and obviously Harry has come out as the victor. Sorry if any of the material is wrong, like the names of anything. Just tell me the error, and I'll try to fix it. This has slash, so if you no like the ushers will gladly lead you outside. The ideas based in this fanfic are a collection of my wacked up brilliance and snippets of what I liked in other fanfics. So if I use something that may seem to be closely related to something you have written, it's nothing personal. I did not mean to steal your work in any way shape or form. If you're that bothered by it, email me and I'll adjust accordingly. Mkay? This is PG-13 for now. I think it will go up, but right now it's pretty innocent.
Disclaimer: I don't own HP, sadly enough. If I did, I'd be happy and own a Porsche, but I don't. You can check my driveway.
Agile AcesChapter One
With wand out before him, Harry stepped off the curb in front of Privet Drive. Hastily he jumped back as the Knight Bus catapulted down the street. Harry stumbled on his trunk and few belongings as he tripped over his pants leg.
Scratching his head and straightening out his glasses, Harry stood up and nodded at the conductor of the Knight Bus who started loading his stuff into a compartment located at the bottom of the bus. Picking up Hedwig's cage, Harry shuffled towards the door.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, where we are here to serve your traveling needs. Run out of Floo Powder? Too lazy to apperate? Well that's why we are still in business," the conductor said smiling, after finishing the loading of Harry's things.
Harry raised an eyebrow and sat down on a seat inside. "That speech sure has changed."
The conductor merely shrugged and shut the door behind him. He took a seat at the wheel and Harry clutched the arms of his seat. After the momentary shock of the amount acceleration used, Harry rested against the back of his seat and shut his eyes.
The war had been over since the summer before his seventh year at Hogwarts. Although he had a whole year to recuperate, he was still somewhat emotionally and physically drained. Despite that, he still had managed to pass his final year with halfway decent grades and even managed to do well on his N.E.W.T.S.
Through Ron's dad, Harry had managed to snatch an open apartment that overlooked Diagon Alley. That was his current destination. Harry didn't like the idea of just living off of his inheritance, but had been struggling to find a job that sparked his interest. Before the war, he had planned on becoming an Auror, but that job wasn't exactly in high-demand anymore. There was still the occasional worshipper of the dark side, but the Ministry could handle them easily.
Quidditch was always Harry's absolute favorite thing. Surprisingly enough, no team had offered Harry a spot on their team.
'Guess there isn't a demand for seekers..' Harry thought absently. Harry mentally smacked himself in the face. He knew that any team would kill for the famous Harry Potter to be their seeker; it was just that in the final game of the season at Hogwarts, Harry had fallen off his broom catching the snitch (as if this isn't a rare occurrence) and had broken his arm. Although the Hospital Wing had mended it, it still ached, and it hurt to move sometimes.
Harry opened his eyes to find that they had stopped outside of Diagon Alley. He scowled, still deep in thoughts of his stupid arm, and stepped off the bus. With the help of the bustling conductor, Harry had all of his possessions in front of the Leaky Cauldron.
Dragging his items inside after paying his fare on the bus and saying a brief farewell to the conductor, Harry nearly tripped over the doorjamb. Sure, Harry defeated the Dark Lord. That didn't mean he had any grace.
Making two trips, he managed to get all of his stuff into his one bedroom room. Once everything was inside the room, Harry plopped down on the bed and immediately and poof of dust flew up. Coughing madly, he rushed to open the window. Breathing deeply, Harry turned back to the mattress, glaring madly. Quickly casting a cleaning spell taught to him by Ron's mum, Harry set about to putting things away.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Sitting at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry watched quietly from his corner the usual arguments and remarks that were shared amongst the regulars. He had now lived in his apartment for 4 days and from his many visits to the bar, knew most of them by first name.
"Did ya see the bulletin in the Daily Prophet? New quidditch team is starting up," A man named Steve stated towards the bartender, who just nodded along, pretending to listen. Steve continued anyway. "It's headed by that some young kid named Something Wood." A couple of guys laughed as someone made the comment of wood being the substance that doors, tables, etc. were made out of. They were drunk.
Harry quickly made his way to the door, where there was a stack of Daily Prophets. He swiftly flipped through the pages and found the ad they were talking about. There was a picture of a broom under the words 'Agile Aces'. Below, there was a quick explanation of what it was, a quidditch team, and when try outs would be. And sure enough, the team was going to be headed by none other than Oliver Wood.
Harry quickly tore out the ad and raced to his apartment. He opened up his trunk and pulled out his Firebolt. Blowing off the little dust that had collected on it, Harry slowly moved his broken arm. Maybe it didn't hurt too much to actually play. And plus it was professional quidditch, run by Oliver Wood. Perhaps with a little training, and being in Wood's good favor, he could play again.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Dressed in his old quidditch robes, Harry stood with the ten other wizards and witches that were planning on trying out to be the seeker. Being separated from the other players by a man who obviously owned the quidditch pitch, Harry hadn't been able to talk to Wood yet. He hadn't seen the man in four years, he was anxious to say the least.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot with his head bent. As he looked up, he saw a man with a very nice figure walk his way. Finally recognizing the man, Harry smiled madly and ran to hug Oliver.
Oliver flashed his white teeth. "Didn't expect to see you here. Heard you got pretty injured at Hogwarts."
Harry shrugged. "Thought I could heal a bit more, and I'll be as good as new." Oliver looked impressed and then turned to face the rest of the people.
"Try-outs are now starting!"
Final Thought: Wee! Did ya like? This is my first fanfic. Period. Please review! Is there anything that seemed weirdish and unclear? Please tell! It will help tremendously!
Chow!
Rashida
