Brief note: I'm very sorry for the long delay. I was out of town and travelling around for a while, and now I'm looking to leave my current job and have been revising my résumé and such. Thank-you for your patience. Cheers ~ Alia :D

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters and ideas are the whole intellectual property of Ms. J.K. Rowling and are hers alone to sell. I do not receive, nor would I accept any compensation for any of the owned intellectual property of Ms. Rowling (nor that which she has licensed to WB etc.). What follows is just a wacky little ditty I wanted to get out of my brain. It only got there because I so love that which Ms. Rowling created. No copyright infringement is intended.

Quidditch can be hard on your health…

'Harry?' Severus asked, sounding surprised to see him. 'What are you doing up here?'

'Have you seen my copy of Hogwarts, A History?' Harry asked, having heard his father enter their apartment.

'What do you need this for?' Severus asked, reaching over Harry's head to retrieve the book from a higher shelf.

'Thanks!' Harry smiled, taking the book. 'I don't know – Hermione wants it. She left her copy at home, and all the library copies are signed out…'

'This isn't about that Chamber business again is it?' Severus demanded with a frown, a hint of warning in his voice.

'No!' Harry replied quickly. 'Or, at least I don't think so…' He sighed, stuffing the book in his bag when Severus' frown deepened and he blocked him from making a quick escape. 'Dad, I didn't ask why she wanted it… Really! She just came over while Ron was trying to cram his homework… Er,' he added quickly, glancing up with a grin. 'You should pretend you didn't hear that part… Come on, Dad – remember, no fair using inside information. I never tell anyone what I know from you…' he added with a bit of a glower when Severus merely smirked.

'Alright,' Severus smiled slightly. 'It's not like his last minute homework tendencies aren't quite apparent from the results. Now…' The frown returned. 'Go on about the Chamber…?'

'Seriously Dad, she was just upset that she couldn't read the book – maybe it is about the Chamber, but there's not much about it in here anyway… Come on,' he sighed, holding up his hands. 'It'll make her feel better to read something 'official' about it – better than paying attention to all the rumours anyway…'

'I suppose,' Severus relented finally, moving to let him pass. 'Just you mind you don't go off looking for trouble.'

'Sheesh, Dad,' Harry said, rolling his eyes as he hoisted his bag on his shoulder. 'How dumb do you think I am?'

'Not dumb, Harry,' Severus sighed, leading Harry out of their apartment. 'Just a bit more curious than is good for your health – and way too much a Gryffindor than is good for my health.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Harry demanded, trying to look affronted.

'Bravery can be both good and bad, as you know. True to Gryffindor form, you have too much tendency to act first and think later.'

'Yeah,' Harry chuckled, remembering how much trouble that tendency had gotten him into in his life: flying a car to school, fighting with Malfoy, fighting with Filch, borrowing a wand when he was six, borrowing a school broom when he was seven… 'I think you might have something there.'

Then, smirking ever so slightly, he subtly moved out of his father's reach as they walked before continuing. 'Of course, I'm more than half a Slytherin as well, so I manage to not get caught at most of the stuff the Gryffindor in me does…'

Before Severus could react, Harry had dodged behind a statue and into a shortcut passage out of the teacher's wing that was little more than a crawlspace and so, too small for Severus to use with any shred of dignity.

'Brat…' he muttered, chuckling as he continued on his way.

*******************

'Are you sure you don't know more about this Chamber of Secrets than is in here?' Hermione demanded for what seemed like the hundredth time later that day in the library.

'Not really Hermione,' Harry answered again, flinching slightly when she closed the book with a bang. 'I might've heard rumours at some point, but I couldn't say for certain… All I do know,' he went on quickly, seeing her frustrated expression. 'Is like what it says in there. It's a myth that few believe. Is it possible that Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber? Yes. Any of the founders would have been powerful enough to do that. Did he?' Harry leaned back, having noticed several others gathering to listen. 'I don't know for sure. Some will say yes, others no… All the teachers will tell you no, whether they believe it or not though.'

'They wouldn't lie to us?!' Hermione gasped.

'Of course they would,' Harry snorted. 'They want to make sure that no one does something stupid like go on a mad search for The Infamous Chamber of Secrets.' Getting a good chuckle from several of the other students at the spooky voice he used, Harry decided to have a little fun.

'Yes ladies and gents,' he went on in his very best Wizarding Wireless announcer's voice. 'That's right, the dreaded Hogwarts Chamber of Secrets complete with it's very own great hairy monster – waiting through the ages to eat any unsuspecting…' Hearing the laughter fade suddenly, Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. With a groan he turned, hoping to see any one of the professors except…

'Dad…'

*****************

Harry loved the freedom of flying.

His father had had a lot of difficulty keeping Harry away from the school brooms when he'd been little – flying just looked like so much fun! And deep inside, where Harry knew simple truths, he'd always known that if only he could get his hands on a broom, he could fly it just like the Hogwarts kids he saw playing Quidditch.

Unfortunately – though perhaps not surprisingly – Severus hadn't been willing to take Harry's word on that and had frequently expressly forbidden Harry from flying.

But as a child, Harry hadn't had the patience to wait for the ever elusive 'when you're older', and so, at the age of seven, in the week before school started, and while his father was in a meeting with the other professors… he'd managed to break into the school's broomshed…

He'd been right. And later, even his father had grudgingly agreed that Harry truly was a natural flyer – gifted even.

However, most unfortunately for Harry, that particular day Severus had been at first surprised when he'd glanced out of the staff room window to see a lone, small, dark-haired child who could only be Harry flying around the Quidditch pitch… The panic that came next as he tore, wordlessly from the meeting had been replaced by fury by the time he'd made it to the pitch to yank Harry out of the sky.

When he could sit comfortably again, Harry'd spent the rest of the week before the students arrived that year sulking in his room.

As he sat now, polishing his broom and clipping the few stray twigs, he remembered fondly how, the following summer at home, Severus had taught him – properly and safely – how to fly… And how, even once they'd returned to Hogwarts that fall, Severus would find time at least once a week while the students were in class to book the pitch so the two of them could fly together.

Officially, they did this so that Harry would be able to maintain his ability and comfort with flying year-round and so would be safer whenever he was in the air. Unofficially, both Harry and Severus had cherished these times they were able to spend together.

There wasn't a student in the year above Harry and older who hadn't been reprimanded at least once for ignoring their lesson to gaze out the window to watch Harry and Severus (though mostly Harry) fly – including Oliver Wood. Which was why he'd approached Harry in the first week last year to ask if he thought his father would let him play for Gryffindor.

He had, of course – once he'd been able to make out what Harry was asking him while hopping around their apartment in excitement. Outwardly, he'd been stern about it – first years weren't usually supposed to have a broom at school…

'Unless they're asked to be on their house team…' Harry'd reminded him eagerly.

And grousing that it was a tad unfair for the head of Slytherin to have spent so many hours teaching a boy who would now use that knowledge to benefit the Gryffindor team no less – only made Harry laugh. They both knew that underneath that stern air, Severus was fairly bursting with pride.

In the end, the only condition that Severus had been serious about before allowing Harry to play was that Harry had to still maintain his grades: 'Any slip at all in your marks, and we'll have to re-evaluate your being on the team!'

'Harry.' Oliver nudged him, breaking Harry out of his memories. 'Eat – you need your strength to win.'

'I already ate Oliver…' Harry smiled again.

*************

The team could hear the students trudging past on their way to the stands. Harry was perfectly content to wait out the time until they had to take the field enjoying the antics of the twins who were having a mock sword-duel with their beaters' bats, but Oliver instead launched into one of his 'Win! Win! Win!' speeches that always ended with: 'And Harry, then you catch that snitch, or die trying!'

'Shut it you two!' Oliver then yelled at the twins who were mocking his or die trying speech ender. 'No joking around. That bludger came entirely too close to Harry yesterday at practice because of you two goofing off. Do you want Snape after you because you let Harry get knocked off his broom?!'

Though they very solemnly swore to be serious, even offering a firm salute, the moment Oliver's back was turned, the twins and Harry burst into laughter that hadn't died down by the time they flew out to the applause of their schoolmates and Lee Jordan's announcement of 'I give you the greatest team ever!... for Gryffindor that is…'

At first the game went on as expected. The Slytherin's new brooms did give them an advantage over their opponents much older and slower models and soon, they had amassed a tidy lead.

Ever since he'd seen how much better the Slytherin team's new brooms were, Harry had tried to convince his father that he needed a new Nimbus 2001 as well. He'd tried begging and sulking and even saying it wasn't fair… But Severus had refused to back down: 'Your broom is a perfectly good broom! You don't need a new one…'

And arguing that Malfoy's father had gotten Draco this newer broom hadn't helped either: 'Yes, well, thank goodness your father has a lot more sense than Lucius Malfoy.' And with that, Harry'd known that the argument was closed. He hated to admit it, but really, his Nimbus 2000 was a good broom too, and it had never let him down yet…

'How's it going scar-head…' The sneering voice cut into Harry's thoughts as he flew over the Quidditch pitch. It seemed that Draco, instead of spending his time searching for the snitch had decided to shadow Harry, taunting him at every opportunity. 'Too bad your father doesn't think that your Quidditch skills rate a better broom…' He taunted. 'My father only wants me to ride the best. Anything less just can't keep up with my skills…'

'Get bent, Malfoy…' Harry snapped, his eyes still scanning the pitch for any flicker of gold. He toyed for half a second with repeating what his father had said about Malfoy's father having no sense, but first of all, Malfoy had hit a little bit too close to Harry's still less than charitable thoughts toward his father for refusing to buy him the newer broom, but also, because he had a better way to get his own back against the blond Slytherin bully.

'Keep bothering me and Dad'll have to call your Mum again…' Harry said casually, the snitch now forgotten. 'Not too pleased, was she? To have you sent home for the night?' Harry laughed at Draco's horrified expression. 'Aww, did the poor little baby's Mummy paddle his bottom for being naughty…' Harry's retaliatory taunt died on his lips though, as he quite suddenly had to take a mad spinning dive to avoid being hit by a bludger.

'Sorry about that Harry,' shouted one of the twins as he belted the bludger in the other direction (Harry doubted if even their own mother could tell those two apart at these speeds).

Harry was only half-way through telling him that he was fine, while scowling at the now laughing Malfoy, when the bludger abruptly reversed course and rocketed back again!  He spared no further thought for Malfoy after that. He couldn't – he needed to focus all his attention on avoiding being knocked off of his broom.

Both twins were hovering around him fighting madly to keep the rogue bludger from knocking Harry out of the sky (which seemed to be it's goal) until after a time-out, during which Harry had convinced them to back off – with the two of them flying around him, he wouldn't be able to see the snitch unless it somehow flew up his sleeve, but also the other bludger was keeping their chasers from scoring with both beaters otherwise occupied.

Harry was soon very tired from dodging the obviously jinxed bludger. Initially, because he was still angry with him, Harry'd been glad that his father wouldn't be at this game, instead having to supervise Marcus Flint's detention which was to coincide with this match – but now, he definitely wished he was here – or that someone (the Gryffindor team couldn't do it or they'd risk forfeiting the game) would challenge the behaviour of this bludger – it wasn't natural! Bludger's weren't designed to focus on one person like this…

He was sweating and short of breath after about twenty minutes of odd manoeuvres and spins and flip-flops in the air trying to avoid being knocked off his broom, and so his patience was wearing quite thin with Malfoy's jeers and taunts every time he came within earshot. He turned to give him a scathing retort finally, but stopped when he spotted the snitch, floating about a foot above Malfoy's fat stupid head. He tried to school his expression so as not to give away the fact that the snitch was so close – if Malfoy only turned his head the smallest bit, he could just reach out and grab the snitch!

BAM!! Harry cried out in pain. The hesitation as he'd been deciding what to do had been too long and the bludger had finally hit its mark. Holding onto his broom with his right arm (his left arm was definitely broken where the bludger had hit it), Harry looked up again and started flying back and forth so as not to present the same easy target to that bludger.

Miraculously, the snitch was still hovering a couple of feet above Malfoy, so, throwing caution to the wind, Harry tucked his broken arm safely in close to his body and dove. Malfoy's eyes widened in fear, thinking he was about to be attacked when Harry hurtled toward him.

All Malfoy saw, was a red blur holding his broom with only his knees. As Harry flew past, Draco turned and gasped in spite of himself seeing the other boy slip and fall from his broom. Time seemed to stand still as Harry fell, his eyes wide in surprise until with a squishy thud he hit the thankfully moist turf of the ground below.

'Ha,' Harry managed to croak out as his team and what seemed like the whole school swarmed forward to check on him. 'I caught it… we won…'

'Someone get a professor!' Angelina cried out, throwing herself down beside Harry to check how badly he was hurt.

'No need Miss Johnson!' Came the over chipper voice of Professor Lockhart.

'Oh, no,' Harry groaned. 'Not you…'

'Stand back everyone!' Lockhart called eagerly. 'He's delirious. Doesn't know what he's saying…'

'Yes I do!' Harry yelled. 'I don't want you to…' But it was too late, with great flourish and a lot of mumbo-jumbo Latin, Lockhart had finished his spell.

The sensation in his arm was not pleasant, and from the looks on the faces of the surrounding students, it really was as bad as he thought it was. Looking down, he very nearly lost his breakfast at the sight of his arm – or what Lockhart had left of it…

'Er, ah…' Lockhart was muttering nervously. 'Yes, that can happen occasionally with that, er… spell… Ah, you'd best get to the hospital wing…' And with that, Harry watched as Lockhart made a hasty retreat.

'Angelina?' Harry called as Fred and George helped him to his feet. 'Would you go and get my Dad? He's in his office with Marcus. Tell him I'm fine, but that he'd better come to the hospital wing.' He grimaced and then hastily added: 'And try to make light of it alright? Don't say I fell, or what happened to my arm, or anything… He'll freak.' With a smile, Angelina sprinted ahead to the castle.

'He's going to freak…' Harry groaned to no one in particular as he, with half the school following, slowly made his way to the hospital wing. He was ending up there rather early this term – this didn't bode well for the rest of his year…

TBC…