Erised's Bane
Author's Note: Yes, here I am again with another wonderful addition to this story. I know that it's taking me awhile to update, but then again I am trying to make those good grades so you guys can one day buy my books. Right, right? Well, anyway, I hope you are all doing well and I hope you enjoy this latest installment.
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and therefore do not own the empire that is Harry Potter.
Moving On
Harry swerved a bludger and caught the snitch effortlessly, thus ending the best game (in Harry's opinion, at least,) in the history of the World Cup.
He stared at it in awe as he flew mindlessly to the ground, still unable to believe what he had done. Within seconds he was covered in the bodies of his fellow teammates, with the exception of course of Hennessy, who looked impressed and rather like he didn't want to admit it.
"The World Cup, Harry, the World Cup!" Paul shouted.
"I knew it, I knew you were the perfect man for the team!" said Liam, slapping Harry on the back.
Harry was in shock. He could never have imagined he would win the game for Britain. And the best part was….
….it wasn't a dream.
Slowly he made his way to the upper part of the stadium, amidst cheering fans and jeering supporters of the Bulgarian team. Viktor Krum, however, looked deeply impressed by the show his British counterpart had put on.
"It vas a very good show, Harry," he said when they shook hands. "I couldn't haf done it better myself."
But the greatest moment was the illumination of a thousand cameras as he stood there in the center of the team, holding their bright and shining trophy because he was, for a moment, not Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. He was a young man who was a member of a very talented team, a young man being honored for his talents. For once the whispers around the dinner tables of various homes around the country would not be of his encounters with Voldemort but of his skill on the Quidditch pitch.
"You put on a very good show, Harry," said Dumbledore later when everybody had finally settled down to dinner back at the Burrow (where Mrs. Weasley had put on a celebratory feast). "I'm quite proud, and I can imagine McGonagall is ruffling her feathers about putting you on Gryffindor's team as we speak."
"Thank you sir," said Harry with a grin. "Thank you very much."
"It was amazing," said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, we were expecting a good match but that was incredible! You ran Krum and his cronies into the ground!"
"Now Ron," warned Hermione, making Ron quiet.
"I think Harry was wonderful," said Ginny, smiling at him. Harry smiled back, but the smile faltered when he caught a certain gleam in her eyes.
"I…I had a great time out there," he said, turning away from Ginny. "Seriously, if I never played another game I'd be satisfied."
"Yeah, yeah, you say that," said Mr. Weasley, "but a quidditch player never hangs up his broom entirely."
"Unless he has a bad back," said Mrs. Weasley with a shake of her wooden spoon.
"Yes dear," said Mr. Weasley, assuming a look much like Ron's when Hermione berated him.
'Interesting how history repeats itself,' Harry thought.
When everything had settled itself down, Harry was pulled off to the side by Dumbledore. "Here," he said, "I thought I'd give you this in person, along with a little warning about it," said Dumbledore.
Harry felt something small and delicate pressed into the palm of his hand. It was a pocket watch.
"What is this sir?" said Harry, looking at it strangely.
"A time-turner, my boy, and an exquisite one at that," Dumbledore said. "Of my own personal collection, I might add. Or did you think I'd let you skip all your classes just to teach one?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I'd wondered about it though."
"You know how to use it," said Dumbledore, opening it to reveal hour, minute, and second hands. "Turn each hand back however long into the past you wish you journey," said Dumbledore. "And that rule about not seeing yourself?" Dumbledore looked back and forth and then winked, "you and I both know that it isn't completely binding now don't we? I've often found that my greatest conversation has been with…well, with myself."
Upon reaching the platform of the Hogwarts Express the morning of the return trip to school, Harry for the first time experienced the popularity that came from being a Quidditch champion. He had always gotten funny looks, stares, and comments, but for the first time he was assaulted by a group of girls and younger year boys clamoring for his autograph.
"No…that's quite all right, thank you…all right, here," said Harry, taking up a picture of him and the team holding up the trophy and autographing it.
"Already milking it, are you Potter?" said a cool voice from nearby.
Harry straightened and every pair of eyes in the group turned to face Draco Malfoy.
If Malfoy had hated Harry before, he despised him now, for only a few months before, in a battle in which Harry had been involved, the elder Malfoy had been killed.
"I'm just being nice," said Harry. "So would you kindly bugger off and leave me be?" he added in a slightly nastier tone.
"I have half a mind to…"
"What?" said Ron, stepping up beside Harry with the Head Boy badge gleaming in the light.
Malfoy glanced down on it and snarled. "Nicest thing you've had for a while, is it Weasley," he sneered. "How much do you think you could get off it?" he said.
"Just sod off," said Harry, waving his wand. Malfoy's mouth fell open and he dropped to his knees. "Come on, let's get out of here," he hissed to Ron and Hermione.
"Harry, you shouldn't have done that!" said Hermione.
"It was just a quick freezing charm," said Harry. "He'll be up in a moment or so. Just enough time for us to find a cabin."
"Well, actually…"
Harry looked at them and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know, you have to go do Head Boy, Head Girl stuff. Just find me when you're done, all right?"
They both nodded and went their separate ways. Harry wandered, rather slowly because of all the recognition and cries of gratitude, to the very back of the train where he finally found a compartment occupied by only one other person.
"Megan!" he cried, spotting a frail-looking brown haired girl sitting with her head down.
She looked up and her eyes immediately began to brighten. "Harry!" she cried, running at him and throwing her arms around his waist. "I never thanked you for saving me," she said.
"You're welcome," he said with a small smile, remembering the events that had transpired within the graveyard.
"I'm living with a nice family in London," she said. "I went to a muggle orphanage for a little while but then Mr. and Mrs. Scott heard about me and came and got me. They're so nice! And I have a little sister who'll be joining me next year at Hogwarts."
"I'm glad things turned out so well for you," he said with a genuine grin, hoping her more happiness than he'd had with the Dursleys all those years.
"Are you in here Harry?" said another voice. Harry turned and spotted Susan edging her way in.
"Susan!" he called out. She turned and lit up.
"I've missed you, Harry," she said, practically strangling him with a tight hug.
He smiled. "And I've missed you," he told her.
"Is that your girlfriend?" said Megan, interjecting in their reunion.
Harry turned around and grinned. "Yep, this is her. Susan, meet Megan—Megan, Susan."
After introductions, they all sat down. They were joined by one of Megan's friends, a little blonde girl who was staring at Harry in awe. She kept poking Megan with her elbow, almost in disbelief that they were sharing a cabin with somebody as famous as Harry was.
They spoke for a little while, before the two young girls went off to find other friends (and undoubtedly brag about their time in the cabin). This left Harry and Susan alone.
"I really did miss you," Harry said after a long moment of silence.
"I believe you," she said with a smile.
"Did you…have a nice vacation?" he said.
"Yeah….sorry I couldn't make it to see you play at the World Cup. It was my grandmother's birthday," she said awkwardly.
"Hey, it's not a problem," he said.
"Thanks," she said with a sigh. "I'm sorry I'm a little out of it right now, Harry, it's just….I got mobbed coming onto the train just now."
"Mobbed?" Harry said with a frown.
"People wanting to ask me if I was really your girlfriend," she said, rolling her eyes. Harry laughed at this.
"Of course you are. Why would people think otherwise? I lo—"
But before he could finish his sentence, the door opened and they both turned to face Ginny, who was standing there.
"Hey Harry," she said brightly, taking a seat across from the couple.
"I love you," Harry whispered, before turning around to face Ginny. "Hey, what's up?" he asked casually as was possible.
"Oh nothing," she said. Harry felt a little like she had chosen this moment to interrupt him and Susan—surely enough, he saw the tip of an extendable ear from her bag.
"What is it with you?" he said, grabbing it before she could push it further into her bag.
"What? What did I do?" she said, turning bright red.
Susan, shell-shocked, said nothing.
"Listen Ginny, I know you have a thing for me, but I have a girlfriend! Lay off, all right!"
"Why you…you arrogant….you…."
Harry only had time to blink before he had the sensation of a fist being driven into his stomach.
"So I was listening, so what?" she said, grabbing back the ear. "I don't know why you ever got back with her. What has she got that I haven't? She's a pudgy Hufflepuff half-wit and I'm your best friend's sister!"
"Ginny…" Harry said, trying to calm her down (which he wasn't in the best state to do, considering that he was hardly able to breathe).
"Just…bugger you!" she said as she stormed off, slamming the door behind her.
Susan was staring wide-eyed after her when Harry suddenly slapped himself on the forehead.
"What? Did your scar hurt?" Susan said frantically.
"No," Harry muttered with a groan. "I just realized that I'm going to have her in my first class tomorrow."