Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter or Eyeshield 21 or any of the affiliated characters. What I do own is a kick ass Ash Ketchum hat and a collection of gold medal winning maple syrup. Neither of which will appear in this story.

Warnings: OC's, some OOC, Het, Slash, AU, fluff, language

The Sixth Tackle

Harry was a little frustrated. He missed the sorting ceremony again. He didn't mind so much last year because he was still riding a high from traveling to school in a flying car and narrowly avoiding death by tree, but this year he had been looking forward to watching as the first years got sorted, and the fact that he could sit and enjoy a meal with his friends while discussing all their new favourite topic…sports.

The train ride had been going fine until they started slowing down. Hermione had adamantly declared that they were arriving too early, and had stood up to go and ask the driver what was going on. She didn't even make it to the door before the train stopped and large black cloaked figures were wandering the hallway. Dean had been level headed enough to tell everyone to just wait it out, surely there was a logical explanation for this and all they had to do was be patient. So they left the door closed. A few minutes passed, and when nobody came knocking they all calmed down a little… except it wasn't quite safe yet. Suddenly the door had jerked open, the room filling with a deathly cold, freezing everyone to their seats.

Harry's vision narrowed and he could hear screaming, a woman screaming. She was pleading, to someone 'Not Harry', but then another scream overlapped hers. A younger voice, 'Don't take my brother! Don't take my brother!' It cried, and Harry wanted to reach out to the voice and tell him that he was alright, that no one could separate them. But then the screams were gone and Harry was waking up in the cabin. His vision was blurry and his head throbbed. When he went to stand up he swayed and fell back down. He could hear Hermione talking but she sounded so far away. He wanted to tell her to move closer but his tongue didn't want to work properly, and he was just feeling so sleepy. Closing his eyes Harry had decided to just talk to Hermione in the morning.

The next time he woke up he was in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey hovering over him. Apparently when he fainted on the train he had knocked his head hard against the floor and suffered from a concussion. Luckily a teacher had been on the train and heard Hermione frantic cries for him to wake up, and upon discovering the scene had rushed Harry to the school, where Madam Pomfrey had taken over and cured him right up. Magic could do many things, but it could not have healed Harry up perfectly so that he could attend the feast.

"Please Madam Pomfrey… I promise I'll walk slowly, and if I feel faint I'll come right back here. I just want to enjoy the welcoming feast," Harry pleaded with the Matron.

"For the last time Mr. Potter, I said no. You weren't even off the train before you got hurt this time. If this is going to foreshadow the rest of the year I might as well double my regular stock of potions and balms just to keep you in one piece. I hate to imagine how often you'll be in here once Quidditch season starts. Maybe I should put a permanent 'Reserved for Potter' sign over your bed," she responded in a half exasperated, half amused tone.

Harry smiled at the woman. "You know Oliver, he'll be training us too hard for us to even think about getting injured."

Madam Pomfrey let out a light laugh as she spoke, "Oh that Mr. Wood. You know you remind me quite a lot of him, especially when he was in his second and third year."

Harry perked up in interest. "What was he like when he was younger? Was he as Quidditch obsessed then as he is now?" He had to know. It wasn't often that he got to learn anything new about people outside of Ron and Hermione. Those two had taken up his entire first and second year.

Madam Pomfrey laughed again. "Was he ever," She started. "That boy was so obsessed that he was in here nearly every day with a new cut or bruise for me to heal. He was practiced so hard, throwing his whole body into improving that one day I finally had enough. I marched him down to Professor McGonagall's office and sat him down. I told Minnie flat out she needed to have a talk with her little lion about personal safety. That woman was stunned, but then she went into a 10 minute long speech about taking care of oneself, why safety is important, and everything else. But I don't think Oliver heard a word of it until the very end when McGonagall said 'If you keep this up by the time it's your turn to be Quidditch Captain you'll be too injured to even touch a broom!' that he snapped out of his danger inclined ways and started taking proper care of himself."

Harry leaned forward, completely fascinated with the Matron's story. "What did he do after that?" He asked.

"Well you can imagine how the promise of captain affected the boy," Harry nodded. Oliver was a very proud captain. That pride and his love of the sport combined probably motivated Oliver another 10 levels on his already obsessed scale. "Well, once he heard that he marched out of McGonagall's office and straight to the library. McGonagall and I followed him of course, making sure he didn't go straight to the pitch and try something dangerous. Instead he went to the Quidditch section and grabbed every book he could. He read all the rules and regulations, all the safety concerns and measures put into place. He studied those books so thoroughly that Madam Pince stopped putting them away and just left them there for him to come back to after class."

"And that made everything better? He stopped getting hurt?" Harry asked.

Pomfrey shook her head slowly. "Not really dear," She started fixing his blanket and sheets as she spoke. "We motivated him a little too much it seemed… you know how he is… he loves the sport very much… well he was so fixated on safety that he started insisting on all sorts of safety measures be installed during practice: cushioning charms on the field, only flying half as high, softening the bludgers… those types of things. At one point Charlie Wesley had to sit him down and remind him that he wasn't the captain yet, and while he appreciated Mr. Wood's concern for the team, being overly cautious was also hazardous. During practice a beater had been playing around with his bat and when Mr. Wood saw he flew straight towards him to reprimand the boy, but in doing so he cut off one of the chasers. The girl had to swerve to avoid young Mr. Wood, and in doing so almost ran into Charlie. That was when Charlie knew he had to teach Mr. Wood about balance. He was better after that," She explained.

Harry decided to get back to the main point of the story, "But Madam Pomfrey, you said I reminded you of Oliver but I'm not that obsessed with Quidditch or anything… I mean I get hurt but it's not from training or stuff," Harry explained.

"But you do get quite fixated on things, don't you, Mr. Potter?" She asked. "In your first year you were so intent on catching that snitch that even though your broom tried to buck you off you still dove a good hundred feet to catch it. In your second year, even with a broken arm, and just barely skimming the grass you stood on your broom to catch that little golden ball again. I had you in here all night fixing your arm. And that's just Quidditch! Weren't you so fixated on saving the stone that you followed a highly trained dark wizard down into a maze to save it? Or how you were so determined to save Miss Weasley that you knowingly went after a basilisk?"

"But someone had to save the stone and Ginny!" Harry tried to argue.

"And to Mr. Wood he needs to win and be the best," She responded. "Especially this year, he'll be worse than last with his drive to win the Quidditch Cup."

Harry didn't understand. There was nothing special about this year unless the Headmaster was going to being giving out money with the trophy or something. "Why this year?" He asked, completely distracted from their earlier topic, again.

"It's his last year here. Once he graduates he will be hoping for an offer to play professionally," She told him.

"Professionally?" Harry had never even considered that Oliver would want to play Quidditch after school, in fact Harry really hadn't thought much about his captain.

"Yes, he has been trying to get his name out there since his fifth year when he gained captaincy. He attends matches all over Europe, meets players and coaches when he cans. He even invited a few scouts to watch the games this year. He's wanted to be a professional Quidditch player before he even came here."

Harry was amazed at Oliver's dedication. Was this what his brother was like? The newspaper talked about how strong his brother's team was and how much they trained in order to be as good as they are. The more he thought about Oliver and his brother together an image started taking shape in his mind. There was his brother, all tall and strong like in the picture but with Oliver's personality. His brother would invite Harry outside and together they would throw an American football around or ride their brooms, but the main thing about this imagined event was that they were having fun together doing something they both loved.

Getting choked up; Harry had to blink away his sudden tears at the thought. Clearing his throat he tried to move on. "Scouts? Any team in particular?" He wanted to think of something else besides his brother at the moment.

Pomfrey didn't seem to notice his sudden burst of emotions as she kept talking. "I had the personal pleasure of talking with the Scottish National Team rep last year. He thought that Mr. Wood had a good head on his shoulders and held potential. The only issue he could see was that as Captain, Oliver had yet to win the cup."

"It's not his fault though!" Harry was quick to defend his captain. "If anyone should be blamed it's me. I mean in first year I wasn't in any shape to play and Oliver had to get someone to fill in. It was probably hard for him to train someone new so quickly, and last year-"

Madam Pomfrey held up her hand to cut him off. "I know Mr. Potter. It's it neither your fault nor his. It was simply circumstances that we had no control over. But you do understand that this year, Mr. Wood will be more determined to win than ever?"

Harry nodded his head, a fire burning in his belly to help his captain get that cup and help him become a professional Quidditch player. "This year, nothing will stop me from helping Oliver!" Harry declared.

Pomfrey chuckled at him. "He will appreciate that I'm sure."

Thinking of his brother and Oliver, Harry started to wonder. "Madam Pomfrey, do you know anything about muggle sports?"

The Nurse looked surprised at his question, "I can't say that I do. Any reason for the sudden question?"

"Well it's just… it might seem silly to you and all but… well…"Harry huffed in frustration that he couldn't say what he wanted.

"Just take your time dear," Madam Pomfrey soothed.

Harry tried mulling it over in his head, hoping to find the correct order of words to tell her what he wanted to say. "I… have …" He started. Did he really want to talk about his brother? It's not that he didn't trust the nurse, she was a lovely woman who took care of him and was always willing to play along with his whims. It's was just… his brother. He didn't want to tell a lot of people and have them look at him in pity later if the boy in the photo wasn't his brother if he did find his brother and he didn't want to have anything to do with Harry. "Dean, Neville, Seamus and I have started taking an interest in muggle sports like American football. We wanted to get together sometimes and try them out, you know just for a bit of fun…" It wasn't exactly what he wanted to say, but part of it.

"It's okay dear. I don't know much about muggle sports, but I do know that they are nowhere near as dangerous as wizarding sports. In fact, sometimes mixing up the routine is for the best. These sports can probably help hone some of your Quidditch skills. I bet that if you talk to Mr. Wood about it, he will probably find a way to incorporate these muggle sports into your training, providing a new exercise and some fun."

Harry perked up at that. He hadn't thought about it that way. He just hoped that he wouldn't get seriously hurt if he played sports on his off time. If he injured himself somehow by playing and it led to another loss for Oliver, he would have felt terrible. But Madam Pomfrey ha a great idea! Oliver knew how to do things safely, he could probably help supervise or even play with them and if it helped the team… well then Harry didn't see a downside to this at all.

"You really think that if I gave him my book on American football and told him it could help us win he would consider playing with us?"

"If you said that wearing an owl on your head and a wizards hat on each foot during the game would help you win, Mr. Wood would be the first to done new footwear," She said as she laughed.

Harry laughed with her, picturing the funny scene in his head.

"There's that charming smile I've been waiting to see," Madam Pomfrey announced suddenly.
Harry tried wiping his face clean of any expression but the funny picture was still floating in his head and he couldn't help it.

"Now, it's time for you to sleep Mr. Potter."

Harry instantly started protesting, "Please Madam Pomfrey, just let me go to the feat for a minute or two," he tried.

The Matron just shook her head with a mischievous smile. "The feast is over Mr. Potter. I did my job and distracted you long enough. Now sleep. I shall wake you in the morning."

Harry couldn't believe it, "You tricked me!" There was more to her than that gentle nurse façade, but he really couldn't be upset. He had enjoyed talking to her and he learned lots of new stuff about Oliver.

"I've been around a long time Mr. Potter, and trust me when you get to my age you know all sorts of techniques to get the patients to stop pleading to leave before their time. Just be happy I didn't take the educational route. I know a lecture or two about the human body… especially the ones that still make you blush."

Harry turned away as his cheeks flushed. Just the threat of any such talks made him embarrassed. Snuggling down into his sheets, Harry kept his back to the Matron. "Good night Madam Pomfrey," he muttered. She won this battle.

"Night dear."

o.O.o

Come morning, Harry had been woken up and gently directed towards the bathroom. He freshened up and thanked Madam Pomfrey for her splendid care and for asking the house elves to retrieve a change of clothes. Making his way to breakfast, Harry felt good about today. He had some exciting stuff to talk about with the guys.

"Hey Harry!" Seamus called as he entered the Great Hall. "Feeling better?"

"Honestly I don't think I had time to feel bad. Madam Pomfrey fixed me up right quick," he answered.

"Well we missed you at the feast last night," Dean joined in. "We tried talking about times to get together to play but it's hard to make a schedule when the busiest of us isn't present to tell us when he has Quidditch practice."

Harry smiled at them. "Actually I was talking to Madam Pomfrey last night and she gave me a great idea. She thinks that if-" Before he could continue Hermione plopped down right in between Harry and Seamus cutting their conversation short.

"There you are Harry! I went to the Hospital Wing to fetch you but Madam Pomfrey said you were already gone. Why didn't you wait for us? Ron and I have been worried sick and you're just wandering around without telling us," the girl scolded him.

"Lay off a bloke why don't ya?" Seamus defended Harry. "The poor boy just got released and he hasn't had time to talk to anybody. How was he supposed to know to wait for you?"

Hermione seemed flustered at the Irish boy's reprimand. "That's not the point. Harry should have known that-"

"Harry should have known what?" Seamus challenged her.

Harry got the sudden feeling that he was the rope in a tug-of-war match between these two.

"Harry should have known that we would be worried and the first place we would go to find him would be the hospital wing. Therefore-"

"Therefore he should be like some trained dog waiting for his owner to come pick him up?" Seamus didn't seem happy.

Hermione was downright affronted at that. She slammed her book down and stood up to gain some height over the Irish boy. "Well I never!" she screeched. "Harry is my friend and I was concerned. He has been to the hospital wing enough times that he knows that I will go visit him there."

Seamus stood up to match her eye to eye. "Well we've been worried about Harry too over the years but every time we go to visit him you and Ron push us out telling us to give him space. You never let us see him, you two always hog him. Just like now we were having a conversation and you cut right in the middle of it, not even letting Harry finish what he was saying. Let the boy have a chance to say his piece for once woman!"

Harry couldn't help but feel like things had escalated beyond control. Neville seemed to share his opinion as the plump boy leaned over to whisper to him. "Shouldn't you stop them or something?" He asked.

"I don't know," he whispered back. "No one's really fought back against Hermione before."

"-and another thing," Seamus continued on a roll. "Why do you always barge into our dorm room? It's a boys dorm but in the morning you come in, banging the door and yelling at the top of your lungs. Some of us are still sleeping! In fact all of us are but you insist on waking us all just to talk to two of us."

"If you boys ever got up on time, than I wouldn't need to wake you up!" Hermione answered.

"We do get up on time! And even if we didn't we don't need you there acting like our mother! I got a mama and let me tell you that she doesn't go barging in my room. She knocks like any courteous person should."

"Well that's fine for you but what about Harry and Ron, they need-"

"They need you to let them be boys. You treat them like dogs, 'Come here Harry, come here Ron, we're going to the library. Don't bark, just walk. Eat your vegetables Ron, that's a good boy. Go fetch this book for me Harry, go fetch.' Honestly woman."

"I don't do that!" Hermione objected. "Harry, tell him I don't do that!"

Harry felt as if a spotlight had suddenly descended on him as all eyes turned towards him. He could see Ron standing a few seats down, his head lowered and his ears bright red in embarrassment. Probably from being called Hermione's dog. Dean looked enraptured with the entire argument and Neville looked nervous. As for Harry ... Harry saw Oliver Wood and decided the best course of action was to escape.

"Hey Oliver," Harry called as he quickly stood up and rushed towards the older boy. "I need to talk to you about Quidditch."

And that was that.

Later, after their honorary first potions class –in which Harry had decided to be partners with Neville- Seamus caught up to him first. "I'm sorry mate, it's just that sometimes… sometimes it seems like Ron and Hermione don't want to share ya. They act as if you belong to them and them alone and the rest of us can't be your friend. I mean don't get me wrong, I probably come across the same way with Dean with how much time we spend together but… ya know… I don't get upset when he goes somewhere without me."

"They just worry a lot. I don't think they mean to hog all my time," Harry defended his friends.

"I know but… something she said this morning got to me. You looked like you had something exciting to say and she cut ya off before you could tell us. Anyways, sorry Harry," Seamus apologized.

"It's fine, I didn't really bother me. But that doesn't mean I want you to fighting all the time," Harry responded quickly.

"I'm sure we won't. So what did you want to say this morning?"

Harry smiled. "I'll tell you at lunch when the other guys are around to hear," Harry promised as they walked into their next class.

Lunch rolled around quickly and Harry was practically vibrating with excitement at his news. Once class was over, he grabbed Seamus and Neville's wrists and started dragging them towards the Great Hall. Dean trailed behind, content to silently laugh at the two boys being dragged around by a much smaller Harry.

Once he got his friends sat down, Ron and Hermione joining them quickly, Harry grinned. "So I asked Madam Pomfrey about muggle sports, and she said that it should be fine for me to play because I won't get seriously injured and ruin my Quidditch season, anyways she said it was fine but then she said that I should talk to Oliver because muggle sports can actually teach you a of lot skills that can be carried over to Quidditch. So this morning I talked to Oliver and I told him about muggle football, and he already knew a few muggle sports and so we talked about them and he thought it would be a great idea for the Quidditch team if we sometimes had practice off the pitch and played sports.

"So like times when we can't get the pitch, we can play football and the chasers can work on their passing and different plays and whatnot. And we can play American football and it will help the beaters because they have to watch and tackle the player with the ball. So it helps them keep a wide range of sight and to quickly respond to the quaffle changing hands. When we went over it there were so many different drills and stuff we could do, but then I told him about how the four of us wanted to play and Oliver said he didn't mind if you guys joined us at practice and played with us because then we could have bigger teams and stuff!" Harry finally finished talking and took a deep breathe.

He had just been so excited about the idea that he couldn't hold it in any longer and had let it all spew out at once.

"I really get to train with the quidditch team?" Dean had a look of pure joy on his face at the prospect.

"Yeah, Oliver thought also thought about opening it to all of Gryffindor, so when we schedule non-pitch days he would put up a notice with a title like 'Help Gryffindor Take the Cup!' or something and then other students can come and play with us, test our skills, all that. He needs to talk to McGonagall about it first but he doesn't see problem and even if she doesn't agree to the open call, he still wants you guys to join us anyways," Harry explained.

"That's awesome mate!" Seamus grinned as he sat across from Harry.

"Yeah, must be great getting to train with the Quidditch team…" Ron muttered. He looked upset.

"You can join us too Ron. I don't think Oliver will mind, especially since your brothers are on the team," Harry offered. He honestly forgot about Ron earlier when talking with Oliver. He had been excited and he could only think about sports and the three boys he spent the summer talking with about sports.

"Oh don't worry about me… I'm just Ron…" He seemed really upset.

"What's the matter, Ron?" Harry asked, concerned for his friend.

Hermione, who up until this point had been sitting quietly, finally spoke up. "Harry I think this is a bad idea," She firmly declared. "Muggle sports may not seem as fun or exciting as wizarding sports because there's no brooms or multiple balls, but they are still dangerous. You can severely hurt yourself. I don't think you or Oliver has thought this through properly."

Harry frowned at her. "But Hermione, I already talked to Madam Pomfrey and she said it was fine. Plus I'm giving Oliver my book about American football tonight, and he's going to read it and learn the rules and regulations. He will make sure everyone is practicing in a safe and controlled environment-" Suddenly, Harry had another thought. Redirecting his attention, he started speaking to Dean. "Dean, do you think if I sent your mom money, would she be willing to buy books about other sports? Oliver wants to see how many we can play."

"I don't think she'll mind-"

"This is what I'm talking about Harry," Hermione cut Dean off. "What happens if you're in the middle of a game and you get distracted like this and ball goes flying at your head?" She asked.

"I'll dodge?" Harry didn't get it. He dodged bludgers all the time he had a sense that told him when something was coming his way and he knew when to dodge it. She had seen him do this countless times

"You can't always dodge. Plus I don't think Oliver Wood is the best person to supervise. He doesn't exactly think much outside of winning and such a mindset can lead to injuries, just look at your own track record."

"None of those were Oliver's fault though, they were my choices. I've never been hurt during practice right? Because Oliver is there. I think he's the best captain, coach, and trainer Gryffindor has ever had," Harry vehemently defended his captain. Hermione didn't know Oliver like Harry did so he couldn't be upset with her for thinking the way she did. But, he still felt a little upset on his captain's behalf.

"Hermione, please don't try and ruin this. Harry got us a sweet gig practicing with the Quidditch team. Can't you just let us enjoy it for a moment?" Seamus asked.

Hermione huffed and turned away from the Irish boy. "I'm just trying to warn you all, but fine go play your little games but when one of you has their skull broken don't look to me for help!"

"Why would we look to you? We would go to Madam Pomfrey," Seamus shot back.

Harry had a feeling that the tug-of-war from earlier had started back up again.

This was going to be an interesting year. He just didn't know why…

Fun Football Fact

The Vikings Defensive Lineman Jim Marshall once picked up a fumble and ran it all the way back the wrong way to score a Safety for the 49'ers.