Chapter 14

Harry woke up in his dorm. Today was Saturday, and his first Quidditch practice.

He sat up, looking at his dormmates. They were still asleep, arms hanging over the edge of their beds.

Harry got up as quietly as he could, and got dressed. He walked out onto the staircase, staying beside the wall so it wouldn't creak. He got to the bottom and stepped out into the corridor, and started jogging.

He was halfway down the Ravenclaw Tower when he heard someone running behind him. Not turning around to see who it was, he kept going to the bottom. He heard labored breaths behind him, and he grinned. This guy wasn't used to running.

When Harry got to the base of the Tower, he put on an extra burst of speed and ran around the corner. He got out his knife, and held it at his side. If this guy wasn't after him, Harry didn't want him to see the knife.

Harry heard the person running around the corner, and tightened his grip on the knife. The person ran around the corner and into Harry, and he rolled, landing in a crouch and raising his knife.

Hermione got up to her feet to see him, knees bent, knife in front of him. "It's fine, Harry, I was just seeing where you were going."

Harry blushed and stowed his knife. "Were you already awake? It's really early."

"I couldn't sleep," she said. "I kept thinking about what you said last night."

Harry nodded. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "Do you always run in the morning?"

"When I can. I especially wanted to because of my practice today."

Hermione cocked her head, then understanding dawned on her face. "Oh, it's your Quidditch practice today, isn't it?"

"Yes. I-"

They were interrupted by a squeak of hinges as Professor Quirrel walked out of a classroom in the hall.

"Oh, hello, Professor," said Harry.

"Oh, y-yes, hello," stammered Quirrel.

Snape walked out of the classroom and pushed past Quirrel to stride down the hall and out of sight. Harry looked at his back in confusion, then shrugged and turned to Hermione. "I'll see you at breakfast, Hermione. I'm going to finish my run."

"Alright, see you, Harry," she said, watching him jog around the corner. That left Hermione and Quirrel together.

"Well… what are we doing today, Professor?" she said cheerily.

He looked at her as if he had forgotten she was there. "Th-that is none of y-your concern."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed, and he left down the corridor.

She shrugged and went back to her dorm.

~In the Great Hall, at breakfast~

Hermione and the others were sitting at Ravenclaw table when Harry came running up. He had changed into his Quidditch robes, and he was holding a sleek silver broom in his left hand.

Ron, of course, was the first to comment. "Wow! Harry, what kind of broom is that?"

"It's a LIghtning Strike," said Harry proudly. "England's Firebolt, which is still being engineered, is actually based on this broom, and not nearly as fast."

Ron's eyes bugged out of his head, and his hand slowly reached out to stroke the shaft. "Ca- can I… touch it?"

"Sure, knock yourself out," replied Harry, tossing it at him as he sat beside Hermione.

"Harry! Be careful!" exclaimed Ron, cradling the broom to his chest, as if it was a baby. "You can't toss something this valuable around!"

"Watch me," said Harry, serving himself some eggs. He looked up to see the shocked expression on Ron's face, and relented. "Ron, if it's so expensive, don't you think the engineers would have made it a bit more durable?"

Ron paused, then nodded. "Still, you take it. This broom is worth more than my house."

Harry took it back, and set it beside him. At that exact moment, Roger walked up to their group. "Hey guys, How you doin?"

They told him, and he nodded. "Good, good. Nice broom, Harry. See you in an hour."

He left, and Hermione watched him go. She also noticed how all the girls on the Ravenclaw table, along with a good portion of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, were eyeing Harry, who was still holding his shiny new broom.

"Harry," whispered Hermione, "Your new broom is attracting a lot of attention."

Harry turned to see what she was talking about, and saw half the girls in the Hall hastily turn back to their food. He grinned, and held Hermione's hand under the table. "It's fine, Hermione. It's not like they're going to jump me on the Quidditch pitch."

"Don't be so sure."

Harry grinned and shook his head. He shoveled the rest of his eggs into his mouth and got up, taking his broom with him. "Bye, Hermione. See you on the pitch?"

"Absolutely," she replied, and he walked out, twirling his broom.

"You're gonna have to fight off a couple hundred girls later, Hermione," said Padma, winking.

Hermione sighed. "I know."

~On the Quidditch Pitch~

Harry walked out into the sunlight, and spread his arms. It was a good day to practice.

"Hey, Harry!"

Harry turned to look, but saw nothing.

"Up here!"

He looked up, and saw Roger, grinning.

"You ready to meet the rest of the team?" he asked.

"Yeah!"

Roger grinned, and turned. "Alright, guys, come on out!"

Out came five other players, flying in formation, obviously trying to impress. In front were two boys the Harry guessed were Chasers, because one was holding the Quaffle. One was tall and lanky, the other looked like he should be a Beater, he was so bulky. Behind them were the Beaters, easily distinguishable from the rest because of their bats. One was average size with black hair, and the other was a bit short. Bringing up the rear was another tall kid.

"Harry, these two are my fellow Chasers, Jeremy Stretton and Randolph Burrow. The Beaters are Duncan Inglebee and Jason Samuels, and that one behind them is our Keeper, Grant Page," said Roger proudly.

Harry was already looking them over. Jeremy and Roger are fine as Chasers, but Randolph and Jason should switch, because Randolph has the build for a Beater. Jason should be a Chaser, but the others are good.

Harry looked at Roger. Then again, Roger knows these guys. Maybe I should wait to make my verdict.

"Team, this is Harry MacLeod Potter. He will be our new Seeker."

Duncan looked at Harry doubtfully. "This guy? He's tiny!"

"From what I read, Seekers don't have to be big. Lithe and fast are more important," replied Harry.

"And what if you're neck to neck with Cedric Diggory? Or Terrence Higgs?" challenged Jason. "They could sweep you out of their way like the Whomping Willow would a bird."

"Then I'll just have to spot the Snitch before them," said Harry simply. He was holding in his anger as best he could, but he could see Jason wasn't. Harry understood now why he was a Beater. Chasers needed to work together to get the Quaffle to the goal, while Beaters worked on their own level. Jason was not a team player.

Jason shook his head and stepped back to Duncan, whispering. Duncan grinned, and nodded.

This isn't good, Harry thought. Jason had been angry, now he was impatient. They were going to do something.

Randolph cleared his throat. "Roger, let's start practice." He looked at the Beaters. "Let's not judge until we see him in action."

Jason scowled, and Duncan stuck his tongue out. Randolph snorted and looked at Roger. Roger looked at his team, and said, "Up!"

Immediately, they kicked off. Harry followed a second later, and flew above the rest. The Chasers were getting into formation, and the Beaters positioned themselves on the other end of the field. They would try to stop the Chasers by getting in the way and knocking Bludgers at them, while the Chasers tried to get the Quaffle past Grant.

As Harry watched, Grant released the latch on the chest, and the Snitch and the two Bludgers flew out. Grant threw the Quaffle to the Chasers, flew to the goalposts, and the match began.

The Chasers went into a flurry of action, with Jeremy and Randolph going right while Roger, who had the Quaffle, flew left. Jason went after Roger, and Duncan flew in the middle. Jason, only a few feet behind Roger, reached out and pulled on the straws of his broom. Feeling the disturbance, Roger flew down, under Jason, and threw the Quaffle to Randolph, who had drifted down, unnoticed by Duncan. Randolph threw the Quaffle to Jeremy, who accelerated up to the goalposts, and threw the Quaffle through the middle hoop, with the ball flying right through Grant's fingers.

"Grant, you have to splay your fingers!" shouted Roger flying up to him and demonstrating. "The Quaffle will get past you every time if you keep your fingers stiff like that."

While they were talking, Randolph flew up to Harry.

"Hey, I know it's cool, but you need to look for the Snitch," he said.

"Right," said Harry. "You guys fly really well!"

"Thanks. Roger was important to that. He knows the difference between working hard and overworking yourself." Randolph chuckled. "Too bad Oliver Wood doesn't. He has some good players, and they could be a really good time if he didn't shove new plays and formations and grips and all else on them every practice. Roger will show us something new every other practice, but that's pretty much it."

"How good are these players, in your opinion," said Harry. "On a scale of one to ten."

Randolph sighed and rubbed his chin. "Well, Roger, as a Chaser and a Captain, is a nine. He should keep a better hold on Jason and Duncan, but other than that, he's a good player and friend.

"Jeremy is like a Weasley Twin, but he can focus when needed. I'll give him an eight.

"Jason is hard. He's a hothead, but he's also a good Beater. The only player he considers a friend is Duncan, and all the others are acquaintances, people he would say hi to in passing. He's a seven.

"Duncan, my brother, is a solid eight. He can also focus, and he's a bit calmer than Jason. He'll help you in a pinch, but he considers it a favor and will ask for something in return, most likely.

"Grant, well… He's an okay Keeper. He's Roger's brother, so that helps, and Roger gives him lots of advice." Randolph leaned in conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I think he would be better as a Chaser."

Harry nodded. Randolph had helped a lot. "And me?"

Randolph chuckled. "I haven't seen you in action yet." Roger called from below, and Randolph looked at Harry one last time. "Remember, look for the Snitch."

Harry nodded, and Randolph flew back down into formation. Students had gathered in the stands to watch the famed 'First-Year Seeker' in his first practice.

This time, when the match began, Harry started looking around the stands, the goalposts, and… down on the field.

Randolph, who was following Roger this time, looked up and saw Harry. "Harry! Look for the Snitch!"

"I am! I swear!" shouted Harry, and at that moment, he saw the Snitch in the scaffolding, under some stands that had been hit by a Bludger. He shot off, to the applause and whoops of those in the stands. Harry dove down, through the holes in the scaffolding, and reached out…

Barely missing the Snitch. The golden ball flew out to the goalposts, and Harry followed. Spiraling around the middle goalpost, he saw the Snitch flying down to the Chasers, who were in the middle of the pitch, trying to get past the Beaters. Harry flew through the Beaters, purposely disturbing their formation, and went over the Chasers.

The Snitch was closer and closer every second. Harry could see why the witches and wizards preferred this sport over Quadpot, the feeling of adrenaline chasing the Snitch compared to Quadpot was like comparing a giant to a troll.

Harry closed his fingers around the Snitch as the Chasers scored their second goal.

"Alright, Harry! Not bad, not bad at all!" shouted Roger in jubilation. Harry heard shrieking in the stands, and looking over, could see Hermione clapping. Harry grinned and waved, and was then swamped by the rest of the team.

Through all the congratulations, and players yelling, "We've got the Cup in the bag!" Harry saw Randolph smiling and nodding, and that alone made it worthwhile.

Wow! That felt good. So sorry for being gone so long, but fellow writers will understand when I say I had no inspiration, so it would've been horrible if I had just forced myself through it. This chapter has got to be my favorite so far, though, I've been wanting to write Quidditch since I started this fanfic. Thank you!

Ana Luisa: Gracias! Lo siento, tomó tanto tiempo actualizar.

Tempest Novastorm: Thank you! I know what you mean, I've read so many stories like that. Many good storylines have been ruined because of the authors making Harry way too powerful.

Jacob Phantom: Here you go! Thanks for being patient.

Review! Gridline out.