Disclaimer: I own nothing but original characters.

AN: Thanks for sticking with this story. Here's Harry! Please read and review. All hate will be met with snark.

Catapultam habeo. isi pecuniam omnem mihi dabis, ad caput tuum saxum immane

Chapter 6

Something Beautiful

The rest of Iwan's trials were just as dismal as Puddlemere. Every trial, he was out-flown, outplayed, and just overall outdone. Iwan hit an all-time low when Portree asked him to leave in the middle of the trial, the coach claiming he'll never find a spot in professional Quidditch. The Wimbourne coach said much of the same thing, and he had the distinct feeling of being patronized in Appleby.

Mary, on the other hand, could do no wrong. She wasn't leagues ahead of everybody else with her trials, but she was keeping pace, and the coaches and managers all had an eye on her. Iwan was proud for his best friend and surrogate sister, but he couldn't help but feel just a tad jealous at times. It wasn't Mary's fault, she did everything she could to help Iwan feel better. Usually that just involved copious amounts of alcohol from the local pub, as well as the occasional viewing of his favorite films and television programs. But there's only so much a Doctor Who marathon can solve before the problems and troubles return.

Which is how, on the morning of his Oxford trial, Iwan was dragged out of his bed, kicking and screaming by Mary.

"Come on, you lazy bastard!" she yelled while struggling to drag Iwan out of his bed. "You have to leave for Oxford in thirty minutes! I swear to God, you are not going to give up on this!"

Iwan held onto his bed with all his might. "I'm not going, Mary! In case you haven't noticed, I suck at this! There's no way any team is going to want me! Just leave me alone!" And it was with a mighty heave, Mary finally yanked Iwan out of his bed and threw him into the living room where a hot cup of coffee and a terribly-cooked English breakfast awaited him.

"I won't let you give up on this, Iwan." Mary said. You have one more trial today. Just get through it. The Owls don't have good standing in the league, so you may have an easier chance. I know it's not what you want, but it could be a chance to play professional Quidditch, just like you always wanted."

Iwan sighed. Mary was right, and he knew it. He was just being stupid and wallowing in his failure. He still had one more chance.

"Now," Mary continued. "Where the hell are you supposed to meet the Owls for your trial?"

Iwan summoned the card that Susan had handed him weeks ago. His eyes took a moment to adjust, as he had not yet put his glasses on.

Raven and Lily Pub

Oxford

7:00 AM

"It's at a pub in Oxford. The Raven and Lily." Iwan memorized it. He was flooing into the pub from the Leaky Cauldron and was going to be dreadfully late. He asked Mary for the time before scarfing down his breakfast, and singing his throat by knocking back the entire mug of still scalding coffee. He quickly rushed back to his room, changed into his athletic clothes and shrunk his broom down, putting it into a rucksack with a bottle of water and an apple before running out the door and all the way to the Leaky Cauldron.

Iwan always hated floo travel. It made him dizzy and disoriented. He took a few moments to look around the unopened pub from his position on the floor. There were two people standing above him. A lady with red hair who looked familiar, and a man with messy black hair and glasses. Iwan stood up and got a better look at the two people standing before him.

The lady was Susan, the one who had approached him after his final match with the Hufflepuff team just a few short weeks ago. The other, was none other than Harry Potter himself. "Holy shit, you're Harry Potter." Iwan blurted out the words before quickly covering his mouth and attempting to blubber out an apology. Harry just laughed.

"That was, without a doubt, the most interesting greeting I've had in a while, wouldn't you say, Sue?" Harry reached out and shook Iwan's hand. "Welcome to Oxford, Iwan Hughes. I hope you brought your broom with you."

Iwan nodded and took his shrunken Thunderbolt III broomstick and restored it to its rightful size. "It's an honor to be here, sir," Iwan said nervously. Harry chuckled again.

"No need to call me sir, Hughes, we're very casual here in Oxford. Just Potter will do. Now, if you'd like to take a seat with me at the bar, we'll discuss what we're doing here today."

Iwan followed Harry over to the bar and sat on his left, between Harry and Susan. Susan began rifling through a briefcase, pulling out various forms and files, setting them in front of her. To Iwan's right, Harry began speaking. "Today we're going to have a private trial," he said. "I never like the public ones where you're with twenty other players and expected to do your best on brooms you've never flown, doing drills you've never practiced. I didn't make a single team I tried for after I left the aurors. I got lucky that Falmouth drafted me or I would never have played professionally."

Harry looked at Iwan. "We've been following your trials. We know you've had a rough go at it. I hope you aren't too discouraged by that. We want you to be comfortable. That's why we had you bring your own broom for it. We wanted you to try out on something you're familiar with, and at home with. You'll have time to warm up to industry standard before League play starts. So this morning, we're going to run some basic drills with you, and let you build up to what we do at our practices. Then, if the morning goes well, we'll run a scrimmage this afternoon with the team. Does that sound good to you?"

Iwan nodded and affirmed the plan. It sounded far more agreeable than the trials he'd been through already. Maybe McGonagall was onto something about giving the Owls a chance.

"Good," Harry said, shaking Iwan from his thoughts. "Susan here has a few forms for you to sign, just standard medical releases. We don't anticipate you getting hurt, but you are trying for beater, so it comes with the territory." Iwan signed the forms and handed them back to Susan. He then followed Harry into a back room of the pub where a cellar door was located. Harry opened it up and led Iwan down into the cellar. There were barrels of various beers, all brewed by Finnegan's Brewery, as well as boxes from the Lion Distillery. Iwan knew both were located nearby, so it didn't surprise him that the Raven and Lily were a Finnegan's account.

As they continued through the cellar, they came to another door, round in shape, with a doorknob dead center. "Through here is a tunnel that leads to the Owl locker rooms. From there you can get to the practice pitch and the main stadium. I own the pub as well as the team so it's a pretty common place for everyone to go after practices and matches, when we're not on the road." Harry led the way through the tunnel which looked longer than it felt. Before Iwan knew it, they were opening another round door, identical to the one in the cellar, and entering a well-crafted hallway with carvings of owls all along the walls. There was an empty trophy case on the left wall, waiting to be filled.

At the end of the hallway, Harry led Iwan through a door that said "OWLS." The door opposite said "AWAY." The locker room was sparsely decorated. There were fourteen cubbies that made a u shape starting on Iwan's right. In the middle of the cubbies was a door that said "STADIUM." To Iwan's left were two other doors saying "WIZARDS" and "WITCHES." Iwan assumed those were the showers. Directly opposite the door Iwan came through was another door that was left blank. That was probably the door to the practice pitch.

Lying in an untitled cubby was a blank Owls, practice jersey, pads and beater's club. It was brown in color with a patch of an owl on a branch on both arms beneath where the number would be, and over the left breast. The trim and owl patches were all in beige color. Iwan instinctively put on the jersey, then donned the brown pants, boots and put the pads on last. He then grabbed the club, and gave it a few test swings. He liked the weight and balance of it. Much better than the ones used at Hogwarts.

Soon, Harry reemerged, Iwan not having noticed he had left at all, in his own Owls coach gear. A brown polo with the Owls logo, an Owls hat, and some slacks for his pants. "You ready, Hughes?" he asked.

"Hell yes," Iwan said.

The drills they began with were easy enough, nothing he hadn't done at Hogwarts on a regular basis. He hit bludgers at stationary targets, the targets then began to move, and then Iwan was put through an obstacle course. He was sent through dummies, representing other players, while bludgers were launched at him and he attempted to hit them back and target certain players as Harry called them out. "Chaser! Beater! Seeker! Keeper!" They went through that for a while before Harry charmed another set of dummies to play a basic scrimmage against the other set, to test out Iwan's defensive capabilities.

Overall, Iwan found himself doing much better when he was not having to compare himself to everyone else on the pitch. Harry also proved to be an encouraging coach, which helped boost Iwan's confidence, and he became more and more daring as the trial went on. This caused Harry to keep encouraging Iwan. It seemed Iwan might have found a place to play at last. That is, if he could get through the scrimmage. It felt like no time at all when Harry had them break for lunch.

He changed out of the jersey and pads, but left the pants and boots on as Harry returned Iwan to the Raven and Lily, which was now open and filled with quite a few people. Harry and Iwan sat at the bar again where a blonde woman was serving drinks and sending out food orders. "What'll it be, Harry?" the woman asked.

"We'll both just have the grilled chicken for now. We don't need anything greasy while the trial's going on."

"What about drinks? Water?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Yes please, but also a half-pint of the Varsity for both of us, Hannah, thank you."

Hannah poured them their half-pints and put their food order in to the kitchen. "You've been doing brilliant out there. I think you deserve a bit of a drink before the team arrives." Iwan accepted graciously and nursed one of his favorite beers while he waited for his lunch. As he waited, many of the patrons approached Harry to chat briefly about the upcoming season. Most of them greeted Iwan warmly when Harry said he trying out for the team. They all wished him luck, and Iwan got the feeling that this was a close-knit community in the area.

When the food arrived, Iwan dug in hungrily. It may have been the hunger, or his and Mary's awful cooking, but it had to be some of the best grilled chicken he'd ever tasted in his life. As he dug in like a wild wolf attacking a wounded chicken, Iwan noticed some other people enter the pub. "Gordon! Finch! Come over here!" Harry called to them. The two people, a young woman and a young man approached.

"What's going on, Potter?" the woman asked.

"I want you to meet, Iwan Hughes," Harry said, indicating Iwan whose mouth was stuffed full of chicken. "Iwan this is Sara Gordon and Sam Finch, they're chasers on the team. You'll playing with them this afternoon." They exchanged pleasantries and Iwan felt that the two chasers were kind people as they made their way to back and, presumably, to the locker rooms. Soon, the rest of the players trickled into the pub, all greeting Iwan kindly. There was Seeker Jessica Adams, Keeper Toni Hoover, and Beater Aiden Kelly, who stayed at the bar and chatted with his prospective teammate. The reserves trickled in as well, also all stopping by to greet Harry and Iwan. Kovecevich, Gorski, and Durand filled out the reserve Chasers, Waldau and Yelchin filled out the keeper and seeker respectively.

"Why are there no reserve beaters?" Iwan asked Harry.

"That," Harry replied. "Is exactly our problem. At the end of the last season, we lost our starting beater to a head injury, and the reserves jumped ship to the Australian League. We're hoping to replace the reserves in the draft while we replace the starter with the trials. We should be getting back now, it's about time to start the scrimmage." Iwan followed Harry back to the locker room, which was filled with the players all in their practice gear, sitting about chatting amiably. Iwan donned his borrowed practice jersey and pads again, and grabbed his broom once more. He was mentally preparing himself for the scrimmage when he heard someone, Kelly if he wasn't mistaken, shout.

"Hey! Where's Hewitt?"

Harry looked around and counted all the players. He was missing a Chaser. "Dammit! Someone use the floo and try to contact him! Tell him to get his ass down here now!" Gordon ran off to do just that. Kelly sat down next Iwan. "Hewitt's almost always late," he said. "Thinks he's God's gift to quidditch. I personally don't know why Potter doesn't fire the bastard."

"You know full well why Potter doesn't fire Hewitt," Toni Hoover added, jumping into the conversation. "He's the most talented player on the team. He may be the biggest dick in the world, but the man can fly."

"I don't bloody care how he flies," Kelly said angrily. "I don't like the piece of shit. Treats us all like crap."

At that moment, Gordon returned with a bored-looking man in tow. He looked at Iwan, who sitting in front of one of the first cubby. "You're in my fucking spot, idiot. Get out!" Iwan looked at Damien Hewitt for a moment. He suddenly felt a white hot rage building inside him. The same rage he got during a particularly brutal quidditch match. The same rage that made him want to start swinging his club around at anything that moved. Iwan already had a bludger set aside for this man's face.

For now, though, Iwan slowly stood up and let Hewitt take his cubby and change. He felt Kelly pat his back and say something, but he wasn't paying attention. He was just planning his attack.

They soon took to the practice pitch and Harry divided them into their teams. Since he was short beaters, he had Iwan start with the main, telling him he'd switch them after the halfway point of the match, to see how he holds up against a starting line. This was Iwan's chance. To prove his mettle and, eventually, deliver a swift beating to Hewitt for his dickery.

The quaffle went up and the scrimmage began. It was like being back at Hogwarts. Iwan spotted the first bludger and sent it flying at Gorski, who had taken the quaffle. Unfortunately Kelly blocked it and sent it back to Iwan, who sent it flying away, towards Durand, knocking her out of the sky.

The match was fantastic. It was pure quidditch. The only dark cloud on this otherwise sunny day of a trial was Hewitt. He would abuse his teammates at the drop of a hat. A chaser shoots and the keeper blocks it, then the chaser obviously doesn't know how to play and gets a lecture on how to properly throw the quaffle. Iwan hit a bludger that Kelly blocked and received a wonderfully delivered "hit the mark or get the fuck off the pitch! You're the absolute worst beater I've ever seen!"

Before long though, Iwan was switched to the reserve side and started looking for his opportunity. Which, not-so-coincidentally, he found regularly occurring. Hewitt was a classic quaffle-hog. And Iwan exploited this by hitting almost every bludger right at him. He kept the pressure on as best he could, hoping one of them would hit home. It wasn't until the very end of the scrimmage, right before Adams caught the practice snitch that Iwan launched a particularly brutal bludger at Hewitt. Kelly was busy keeping another bludger away from Adams, when WHACK! Iwan's bludger found a home in Hewitt's face. The chaser fell backwards off his broom and landed roughly on the pitch below. Adams then caught the snitch, signalling the end of the scrimmage.

Harry flew over the Iwan and congratulated him on a beautiful hit. He assured the team that Hewitt would be fine and that the team healer Jon Bennett would look over him and patch him right up. He then told the team to retire to the locker room, and asked Iwan to follow him to his office.

Iwan followed Harry through the locker room and into the hallway. Harry reached up and pulled on string to lower a staircase which they then went up. The staircase led directly into the middle of a large office. There was a desk in the middle, and large windows that looked out onto the Owls' Stadium. There were multiple awards adorning the walls from Harry quidditch career. The five MVP trophies, a Rookie of the Year Award, his three Josef Wronski Awards, and the various jerseys he wore over his 7 year career. There were the Falmouth Falcons, the Ballycastle Bats and the last jersey he wore, the English National jersey. He never made it to the World Cup playoffs, sadly, being injured in the preliminaries the year before. It had ended his career.

Before Iwan had a chance to fully appreciate the decor, he heard the click of heels as someone else entered the office: Susan. "Now, Hughes," Harry said. "After your performance in the scrimmage, and the one-on-one trial this morning, I want to offer you a position. Starting, Right Wing Beater. Susan here has a contract, it's a standard entry-level contract for three years, with a signing bonus of 3,000 galleons as well as an extra 2,000 plus moving expenses if you move to the Oxford area. We're a tight-knit group here, and we enjoy hanging out, even in the off-season, so we'd love to see you move to the area. Do you have an agent yet?"

Iwan shook his head. He hadn't even thought of getting an agent. Was he already supposed to have one? "Don't worry, Iwan," Harry said. "We can recommend an agency, Greengrass and Bones. They aren't large, but they do handle most of the team. For now, we'll deal with your verbal confirmation if you want to sign with us, and have the big ceremony after your agent's looked it over."

Harry looked at Iwan for a while as he took the contract from Susan. He eyed the dotted line at the bottom, where he would be signing. This was real. He was a professional quidditch player. And on the starting lineup to boot! "Well?" Harry asked, shaking Iwan from his reverie. "Do you want to be an Oxford Owl?"

"Of course I do!" Iwan exclaimed. He then shook hands with both Harry and Susan.

"Good. We'll have an official copy of the contract sent over to your agent when you get one. That one is your copy, just for redundancies. Now, go down and get to know your new teammates." Iwan walked down the stairs and back into the locker room. The rest of the team were all down there, now in their street clothes waiting.

"So?" Kelly said. "Are you an Owl or not?"

Iwan held up the contract and the rest of the team clapped and welcomed him in, inviting him to the pub for a few rounds of celebratory drinks with them before he went back home. Iwan quickly changed and followed them to the pub.