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 Seventh Tackle
It wasn't hard for Harry to get more books on various sports. He had given Dean 20 galleons and left the rest up to his friend's mother. A few days after Dean had used Hedwig to mail the money off, the owl returned with three others, all carrying packages.
Mrs. Thomas had been very happy to learn that her son and his friends were talking an interest in muggle sports and scoured the local bookstores to find the best guidebooks she made sure that they were informative but at the same time simple so that the wizard raised boys could follow along. Together the four boys gave the books a quick look, reading the fun facts in the margins, before handing them over to Oliver.
Oliver Wood had taken to the idea of muggle sports like a duck to water. The older boy had spent hours every night reading the books and even asking his own muggle-raised friends to help him find other books for additional reading. It took two weeks –in which Harry spent as much time as he could helping the older boy, ignoring Malfoy and his stupid fainting jokes, and comforting Hagrid after his disastrous first class- but in the end him and Oliver had formulated a training regime. Oliver took all their work to McGonagall and sat down with their Head of House, where he proceeded to carefully explain everything he had planned. Harry had stood outside the office door, straining to hear what was going inside.
"I know this may seem unconventional, but after considerable studying I believe that by including some non-traditional training methods during practice, we can really up our game for the season," The boy started. "The Slytherins play rough; it takes us off guard every time because we have no way to condition ourselves for it. But, when Harry approached me with the idea of plying American Football, I saw a great way for us to prepare ourselves. The full body contact used in the sport-"He continued.
Harry took a deep breath and hoped that McGonagall went for this.
"Besides that, football has its own keeper position. If I have the team line up and kick that ball at me, it will help with my reaction time. You know as well as I do that the Slytherins like to watch our practice. If I can improve my skill off the field, where they aren't watching, then come game time we can take them by surprise. If they believe they are aiming for my weak spots, when I block those shots, it will help ensure we take an early lead," Oliver argued.
"I can understand why you want to do this Mr. Wood, but I am more concerned with the safety aspect. Being on a broom instills a danger sense in anyone who mounts one. You know that there is a certain amount of risk by riding a broom , even if your confident you still have that warning at the back of your mind. By removing that sense by grounding the team, I fear that during practice you and the rest of the team will take more risks, which could lead to a serious injury," McGonagall responded.
Oliver took a moment before responding. "I can understand your concern Professor. But no matter what we do to train we will always be at risk. At least by allowing us some ground practice we eliminate the falling 50 feet and breaking our neck option. Plus I have read the rules and before we engage in any full game or match, I will have sat down and talked with all the participants and made sure they understand the rules. I want to use this as a means to better our skills, not hurt my team. If anyone, even a Quidditch team member, does something risky that can seriously harm or injure themselves or others, I will pull them from the game.
"Not to mention we need more time to practice that we can't get as it is. We only get the pitch Monday nights, and Tuesday/Thursday mornings. Sometimes we are able to get Sunday, but the Slytherins monopolize the field. We could have more time, but I give some of our pitch time to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw so their teams can practice as well."
"I don't know how many times I have talked to Professor Snape about his team booking the field," McGonagall added.
"And on top of that last year they even had Professor Snape write them notes allowing them to steal our pitch team. If they aren't going to be fair about sharing the pitch then we need to overcome that. I suggest isolating skill development off the pitch. We can work on teamwork, aim, and other skills through drills and these sports. Doing drills all the time will help improve but to put them practice while adrenaline is pumping through us will really show any results we may gain. When we do get the pitch we can work on flying techniques like: braking and accelerating, feints, and testing any play to see if it will translate from the ground to the air."
"Mr. Wood, I can tell you are very passionate about this and looking at all the schedules and outlines you have presented before me I know that you have put a lot of thought into this. As your Head of House, I am very proud to have you as my Captain. I trust your judgment when it comes to the team. I will approve your proposal, and allow you invite other members of the house to join, but I have a few conditions."
Harry did a mini happy dance outside McGonagall's office. Oliver got permission, and they could play sports, and everything was coming together rather nicely. He couldn't contain his happiness, so… he danced. It was a bit awkward, and he wasn't sure if it looked like actual dancing or him trying to shake bugs out of his hair, but it didn't matter. Because McGonagall said yes!
"Of course Professor, I didn't expect you to say yes without some of your own rules," Oliver answered.
"First, any games you invite the rest of the house to, will only happen during the weekend. I don't want this interfering with their studies, or any student using this as an excuse to miss class the next day."
"I understand Professor. Any games will take place on Saturday or Sunday mornings so that all participants have the rest of Sunday to recuperate."
"Second, this will be a house secret. I will tell the other professors that I have organized some small muggles games for my house to play, just to burn off all the lion's extra energy. If they knew the real reason behind this than any advantage you wanted from secret ground training would be lost as the other teams will no doubt copy your methods to improve themselves as well."
"Done."
"And third… watch Mr. Potter."
Harry flushed in embarrassment. Why did he need the extra care?
"Professor?"
"Mr. Wood, as you have no doubt noticed Mr. Potter is the smallest on the team and in his year. He will be at a distinct disadvantage when it comes to most sports due to his size. Just be careful with him," She explained.
Harry felt his face grow even hotter. It was nice to know that McGonagall was worried about him, but at the same time he didn't wanted to be treated like some fragile object just because he was small. Through the door he could hear Oliver promising McGonagall to look after him and Harry figured that was his clue to leave… and possibly go the kitchen and ask the house elves for some milk.
o.O.o
The next day Harry was walking to class humming to himself. After his meeting with McGonagall, Oliver had gathered the team and told them the good news. He then briefly went over the new practice schedule. Everyone seemed enthusiastic and after getting a promise from Harry to borrow Dean's football on Wednesday they separated. All of that together left him in a good mood that carried over to today.
"Well if it isn't the fainting Potty." Apparently good moods weren't meant to last.
"Malfoy," Harry responded tightly. "What do you want?"
Malfoy stood there in his normal holier-than-thou stance and his arm still in a sling from the Hippogriff attack at the start of the year. His two goons were positioned behind him, looking just as menacing as always, although Goyle was carrying Malfoy's bag. "I just overhead McGonagall telling Professor Snape not to get too attached to the Quidditch Cup this year. Your team doesn't honestly think you will win it, do you?"
Harry sent a small glare at the boy. "Malfoy, daddy's money can buy you on the team, but it can't buy you victory. Just like last year, Gryffindor will beat you."
"Please Potter, it was one game. This year Slytherin is set to win and we will prove it during the first game. Although… whether you make it to the first game is still up in the air," Malfoy said with an obnoxious laugh.
"What do you mean, Malfoy?" Harry asked while rolling his eyes. "Do you have another pathetic plan to get me expelled?"
"Like I would waste my precious time plotting against you. I was referring to the fact that a mad murderer was after you… coupled with the grim in your tea leaves and well… you don't need to be Merlin himself to see that fate is against you. I honestly will be surprised if you survive until November."
Harry frowned. "What murderer?" He hadn't seen or heard anything strange this year, so Voldemort had yet to appear. But then again he didn't usually make his first move until Halloween.
"Sirius Black… the man who escaped Azkaban and has been all over the news… Do you pay attention at all, Potter?" Malfoy asked. He was starting to sound angry.
"Of course I pay attention!" Harry protested. "Sirius Black…yeah…" Okay Harry had no clue who Malfoy was talking about.
"You honestly don't know… Potter, you dimwit. An illiterate child would know who Sirius Black is…" Malfoy seemed stunned at the revelation.
"I've had a lot on my mind lately," Harry tried to defend himself. "Quidditch… new classes… Trelawney predicting my death every time I go to her class…"
"Potter, I'm going to do you a favour, but just this once. And the only reason I am doing this is because it will be so satisfying to tell you in person." Malfoy looked very pleased about whatever he was going to say. "Sirius Black was convicted for killing 13 muggles and another wizard. It's said that he was very close to You-Know-Who and before he escaped -my father heard from the Minister himself- that Black would sit in his cell and mutter 'He's at Hogwarts'. When he escaped the Minister was worried that he would come here and kill you. That's why we have Dementor's guarding the school," Malfoy explained.
Harry was confused. "What are Dementors?"
Malfoy laughed at him again. "Oh this is too good. Potter I knew you were an idiot but you are exceeding my expectations right now." Malfoy had a look of pure glee on his face. "Dementors are those dark cloaked creatures that made you faint on the train."
Oh… Suddenly Malfoy's lame jokes started making more sense and now he had a name for those creatures. Wait a minute… "Those things are guarding the school?" Harry was horrified. Those things were terrible.
"At this point I can't even make fun of your stupidity. It would be like kicking a wounded animal," Malfoy stated with a grin. "Oh wait, yes I can! Potter, you should be happy to be famous because with no looks and no brains you won't go anywhere in life. At least your fame and fan-club should support you until you're nothing but a wash-up useless hero… ah but… you're already a useless hero. I guess you're completely out of luck."
Harry could feel himself vibrating with anger. How dare Malfoy talk about him that way? Just because he didn't read the paper and didn't listen to gossip didn't make him stupid! "I'm not dumb Malfoy!" he yelled. "You're just jealous because unlike you I don't need Daddy to buy me friends or buy my way onto the Quidditch team. If you didn't have your 'father'" Harry tried to mimic Malfoy's annoying high pitched voice, "than you would be nothing but a butt-kissing loser!"
"I would taunt you back Potter, but at this point I just feel so superior over you that I refuse to be dragged back down to your plebian level," Malfoy stated arrogantly. With an unnecessary flip of his over gelled hair, Malfoy walked away proudly. "Let's go boy's, I can't believe I'm saying this but if you spend any more time in Potter's presence he may make you dumber."
Harry clenched his fists in anger. He couldn't wait for the first game. He was going to crush Malfoy. He was going to beat him so bad that the fake injury the blond was flaunting about was going to look like a butterfly kiss in comparison. He was going to catch the snitch before Malfoy could even lay his beady little eyes on it. He was going to fly so many circles around the blonde he would make the Slytherin dizzy!
'This isn't over yet, Malfoy!' Harry thought to himself. It was far from over. Stomping away, Harry decided he needed to talk to Oliver. Maybe the Quidditch captain would be willing to have extra practices with him so he could improve beyond Malfoy's wildest dreams, and help him squash the annoying little bug- but in a completely fair and honest way because Harry was nothing if not a good sport.
o.O.o
After class –in which Harry was late to- he made his way down to the Great Hall for dinner. His friends had asked him what kept him, but Harry chose to wait until class was over so that he didn't get in trouble for talking during the lesson on top of being late.
"Harry, are you alright?" Dean asked. The taller boy had held Harry's hand for a moment while he asked the question.
"I'm fine," he huffed. "I just had a run in with Malfoy and those never end well. He's just such a git…" Harry explained. He didn't understand how someone could be so annoying. Well, Dudley was annoying too but Malfoy just took it to another level. "I don't think I could ever stand being his friend."
Harry hoped that this conversation would be a good way to segue on to the topic of Sirius Black. Malfoy had claimed that Black was after him and wanted him dead, but Harry wasn't sure if he should believe the git. After all Malfoy wasn't exactly the most honest person at Hogwarts and Harry tended to take his words with a grain of salt… but at the same time it would be nice to know if a new mass murderer was out for his blood. Sometimes one just wasn't enough… two murderers would really brighten his year.
"Although he's annoying, he did say something odd…" Harry started.
"What? That he was going to beat you this year? Not likely mate," Seamus spoke up. "He's decent on a broom no doubt but he has nowhere near your talent or skill."
"Yeah, last year you could see the difference in your skills. He could have improved over the summer but I doubt he would have improved that much…" Dean trailed off.
"You don't think he's gotten too good do you? He did buy his way on to the team but he was still fairly good. He has the money to get some Quidditch instructors," Harry asked, completely distracted from his original intent.
Hermione seemed fed up and closed her book with a loud snap. "Enough," she stated forcefully. "All you boys have talked about since the start of school has been sports and Quidditch. There are other things you should be focused on like classes and homework!"
Seamus and Ron both groaned at the same time.
"No, Hermione has a point," Dean defended the girl. "If all we do is think about sports than our grades will drop. Not only will that upset our parents but in Harry's case he could be kicked off the Quidditch team. Wood always makes sure that his players are doing well. If their grades drop below Acceptable than they can lose their spot until they improve their marks."
Hermione sat up straighter. "While I appreciate Dean's support, I could have done without the reference to Quidditch again. You should be working hard to get good grades so you can secure your future, not just to play a silly sport. Now is the time to really be thinking about what you want to do after Hogwarts."
"Not everything has to do with school, Hermione-"
"Maybe…" Neville spoke up suddenly, "maybe we can talk about something other than school or Quidditch? I mean every time we talk about one or the other it always ends in a fight so maybe a new topic? Just to keep everyone happy…" The shy boy suggested.
Here was his chance! Harry had the perfect opportunity to bring up Sirius Black. "We could always discuss Sirius Black…" He proposed.
Everyone around him suddenly went stiff. "Or not…" He wasn't sure what was going on here.
"Or instead… we could talk about the weather," Seamus stated quite loudly. "We've had some great weather lately!"
"Oh yeah, really sunny," Ron joined in.
"It's been great for the plants in greenhouses…" Neville added, awkwardly.
There was unquestionably something going on here… Harry just needed to figure it out.
"Well that was subtle…" Hermione said while rolling her eyes. "Harry, we've tried to be gentle about this and not bring it up but…"
"Your tie is crooked!" Ron shouted over the girl. "It's been bugging us all day but we didn't say anything because we know how embarrassed you get when… we… correct you and stuff…" he trailed off.
The whole group started laughing awkwardly, leaving Harry to sit there confused. Looking down, Harry checked his uniform. "My tie doesn't look crooked…"
"Well it must have righted itself," Ron said, still a bit too loud.
Dean, Neville, and Seamus all stood suddenly. "Hermione is right; we need to focus on school work more. Come on Harry, let's go start on that charms essay," Dean said.
"You know what they say… the early essay bird gets the good grade worm… woo!" Seamus tried.
Harry didn't know what was going with his friends, but he figured the best thing to do would to be to just follow them. He was sure that all this weirdness would work itself out in the end he just needed to be patient.
o.O.o
Somewhere in the United States
A young teen lightly jogged off the field and towards his coach. "I think we need to do a few passing plays, coach. The other team is starting to focus on me too much. If we start passing now we can really exercise our WR's," the boy said.
"I was thinking the same thing. It will also give you a break," the coach replied. "Alright offense, gather round. For the next few plays we're going to try something new," the man spoke as he pulled out his white board to demonstrate a new play.
The boy only gave the coach half his attention. His eye-shield protected his face so that not one of his teammates could see his bored expression. He had been in the States for a couple of years and he was ready to return home to Japan. He had enjoyed the experience but he felt like something was coming. Something was looking for him. He didn't know if the feeling was good or bad, but if whatever was coming, did show up, he preferred it happened in Japan.
The coach finished up just as the D line started running off the field. Focusing on the game, the teen jogged to his position on the field.
He would finish this season and decide what to do later.
Fun Football Fact
Deion Sanders is the only person to hit an MLB home run and NFL touchdown in the same week. He's also the only person to play in the World Series and the Super Bowl.