Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.
Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody. Oh, and review again!
S/N: Barty Crouch wasn't fighting off the Imperius, he's sick with a wizarding disease, but he refuses to acknowledge it. As for what the disease is, I haven't named it, but its bad.
S/N 2: I'm sorry, but this chapter was the hardest one to write. I'm going to take a week off, so you won't get another new chapter till the Wednesday after next, rather than the weekly update. I've run into a fork in the road for a character, and I don't know what I want to do with him, so I need to plot out his story, rather than just write (its the character that I mentioned I added into my story in a chapter way back when because of what he was in Death Hallows I couldn't help myself). Don't worry, though, because the chapter that I release when I finally do, will be the beginning of the real plot of the story, and the last before the action starts.
Chapter 17: Wooden dance floor, wooden brooms
An hour later found Harry and Tonks in the middle of the dance floor, taking their first dance as a married couple. As the Fluting Apollos—a wizarding band—played, the pair stared in each other's eyes, as if they were the only ones in the room. "Are you going to love me forever?" Tonks whispered into Harry's ear as they danced.
"A little late to be asking me now, don't you think?" Harry said back. She stuck her tongue out at him, an action she always did when he reverted to his dry sense of humor self. As the song ended, and another began, the rest of the attendees strolled up to the dance floor themselves, swaying to the music. Harry closed his eyes, listening to the music, though he was hearing a different tone than the other guests.
His tone gave him great hope and warmth. It gave him courage, though he already had it inside himself. He recognized it, even with having heard it only once in Dumbledore's office, and that was a long time ago: the phoenix song. He didn't know how, or why, but he knew it wasn't coming from Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, nor could anyone else hear it. It seemed to be emanating from his ebony wand, as if the very phoenix feather from inside was just as happy, just as emotional as he was. He shook his head, pushing the sound to the back of his mind, turning his attention back to Tonks, his new bride.
Remus and Sirius were both dancing with their dates, Hestia Jones and Emmeline Vance, respectively. Remus had been with Hestia on and off for a while now, but they never really went any forward with it; it was a very stagnate relationship. Sirius and Emmeline, on the other hand, had been on a few dates already, and Sirius had only been out of Azkaban a little over a month. The way they were going, they'd be married in year. After two more songs, the Apollos stopped playing, the dinner having been served.
"Can I have your attention please?" Cedric said, midway through the meal; his voice was loud and commanding. He tapped his wand against his glass of Bubblin's Giggle Water, the drink of wizards that was akin to muggle champagne. Seeing everyone's eyes pivot onto him, he grinned, gesturing to Harry and Tonks. "As most of you know, I've been friends with Harry for around eight years; since he was in his second year of Hogwarts, and I was in my fifth. Admittedly, before I got to know him, I, like most of the wizarding world, thought of him as 'The Boy Who Lived'. But over a few months during our respective school years, me and him became the closest of friends, and now I only think of him as my best friend. It's hard being his friend sometimes because he's just so bloody good at everything." He laughed, winking at Harry. "And now, now that he's married the love of his life, someone who makes him so happy every time he sees her, it's going to be next to impossible. But, alas, we all have our burdens to bear. I could stand up here and tell you stories about the adventures of our dear Potty wotty—and trust me, I have a lot—but I think his reputation speaks for himself. So, to make a long story short, Tonks," His eyes flicked to the metamorphmagus. "Take care of him for me, will you? To Harry and Nymphadora, may their marriage be happy and as eternal as their love is."
"To Harry and Nymphadora!" The crowd cheered, downing their respective drinks. There was an uproar of noise, and a wave of energy ran through the attendees, as if Cedric's speech had gave them the okay to go nuts.
"Hey," Viktor said, tapping Sirius on the shoulder as they sat at their table. "Vho are they?" He questioned, gesturing to a group of four people, off to the side, getting something to drink; there were two men and two women.
Sirius followed his gaze over to the group, smiling when he saw who it was. "Those are the Nigels, my and Andromeda's relatives: Austrinus Nigel, and his date; and Cepheus Nigel, and his date." Viktor nodded, shrugging, having not seen them before.
The rest of the night passed by with nothing but laughter and joy. The newlyweds were as happy as could be, and danced the night away until it was time for them to leave on their semi-honeymoon. They had planned to have a real honeymoon after the World Cup, but they needed something to go to on their wedding night. The rest of the people at the reception, however, continued to dance and drink, having a good time until Cedric and Roger pushed them all into the fireplace to go back home; most of them being half-drunk.
"Nymphie," Harry smiled, walking in with a tray of treats, as Tonks laid on the bed, looking up at him with her natural gray eyes. She had never spent so long in her natural appearance since before her Hogwarts time, but on her wedding day, since Harry liked it so much, she was willing to stay in it however long he wanted. "I got you a muggle-like spa package for tomorrow morning, that way your body can feel as beautiful as you are."
"Careful, Mr. Potter, flattery will get you everywhere." Tonks smirked, resting her chin on her hands as she watched him walk towards her: his eyes pouring into hers all the while.
"I hope so, Mrs. Potter." He replied in a low voice, jumping onto the bed, and pulling her onto him, kissing her passionately.
Sunday passed, and before Harry knew it, he was apparating to the Puddlemere United quidditch pitch, with a smile on his face, and his practice robes on. Entering the locker room, he gave all his teammates a wave, as he placed his things in to his locker, grabbed his broom—a firebolt that he had brought with him since he had yet to get his new broom—and jogged out; his team following closely behind him. His coach flipped his wand, and a whistling sound rang out through the area, calling them all to him. There was around fifteen of them, the starters and the backups. As Harry neared the coach, he saw a wizard hand him an envelope and run off, leaving the coach confused. The coach looked down, reading the letter with a small frown.
"Harry," He said, as the player neared him. Then, he checked the letter over again, making sure he wasn't wrong. "You…you have to go. You've been traded."
"Traded?" Harry questioned, confusedly. He heard the murmuring of his team, but paid no attention, wanting to know what was up instead. "What do you mean by 'traded'?"
"What I mean is," The coach replied, slowly. "That you're being forced to play for Wales by order of Ludo Bagman. I had…I had hoped that he would have changed his mind, but I guess he didn't."
"What? No," Harry yelled, losing himself in his anger. "You can't do this! I've played on the English team for eight years. You can't just throw me to Wales."
"It's not my call, Harry. The Ministry declared that you have to play for them, or you can't play at all. It was okay to play for us when you lived in England, but now that you live in Wales, we can't just push it under the rug." The coach said, sadly. "Listen, you're Welsh, aren't you? You should have been playing for them from the get go. And, plus, the Ministry talked to the Wales team already, they have a spot for you. That's why they didn't tell you before hand, because you're safe: you have a position. Hell, being who you are, you can probably have any position you want."
"That's not the point." Harry growled. "I've played with you guys, our team, for two world cups. We have history together. I'm proud to be Welsh, very proud actually, that's why I built my home there, but still…I thought we were a team."
"Harry," The coach whispered. "I'm sorry. I tried to fight it, I did. But the Ministry made up their minds. We want you on the team, it's not like we're forcing you off."
Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead with his left hand. His eyes puffed up with tears, as he looked up at his former team. "I understand. Well, I guess I'll go here then." He said, flashing them the letter that told him about his 'trade' to Wales. "Keep in touch?" He smiled as they nodded sadly, each disappointed they wouldn't be playing with each other anymore. "Good luck. I'll be rooting for you. After all, you got a title to defend." He apparated out, leaving the English team alone. They all looked at each other awkwardly, before jumping onto their brooms, and flying up in the air to begin practice.
Harry appeared in the Ministry's apparation point, his brow furrowed. He walked briskly down the hall, nodding to all the people who said hi to him, seemingly on a mission. He jumped into the lift, pressed the button, and waited, impatiently, as it jerked to a halt. He zipped out when the doors opened, racing down the hall and entering the Magical Games and Sports department office.
Immediately, without invitation, Harry barged into the head's office. There, sitting behind a desk was Ludo Bagman, who jumped up at the intrusion, having not expected it. His eyes went wide when he saw who it was, and his face became beet red. "Harry Potter, so nice to see you."
"Shut up, Bagman." Harry hissed in parseltongue, making Ludo shrink back in fear, clearly shaking by the display—even if he didn't know what Harry said, hearing parseltongue was scary enough. "Don't screw me over again, Bagman." He growled, staring at Ludo with fire in his eyes. "Because if you do, you'll be out of a job."
"Harry…I…" Ludo began, stumbling over his words. His assistant stood at the doorway, watching the exchange in apprehension.
"Save it." Harry sneered, turning and walking out of the room.
Nymphadora yawned awake as a stream of sunlight crept through the bronze curtains, sending its beams into her eyes. She rolled over, bringing the covers above her, hoping to block the sun and get another few hours of sleep. That, however, wasn't to be, for ten minutes later she kicked the covers off of herself and got out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She scampered over to the bathroom, her barefoot flopping against the cold, hard wood, and took a quick shower. After getting dressed, and drying her hair, she headed down to the kitchen for some breakfast. Sitting on the table was a plate of muffins, a jug of pumpkin juice, and the morning's Daily Prophet. On the front page was a picture of Harry on his broom, and in big, bold letters was:
United Kingdom Quidditch teams to start practice today Harry Potter to play for Wales!In a surprisingly well-kept secret, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports Ludo Bagman, announced today that Harry Potter, both Chaser and Seeker for the English national team, would be playing for Wales this World Cup. Mr. Bagman had this to say:
"Due to circumstances within the Potter family, we felt in order to keep the dignity and equality of the United Kingdom teams, he had to switch to Wales, which is his rightful place. We wish Mr. Potter the best with his new team, and we know all of the wizarding community of the British Isles will be cheering for him."
There is no word yet on just what position—for he plays both Chaser and Seeker—Mr. Potter will be playing on the Welsh team, but we know he'll do great. We have heard, however, that Welsh witches and wizards erupted in parties when they heard Mr. Potter would be playing for them; they showed enthusiasm in Welsh quidditch that hasn't been seen since the brutal death of 'Dangerous Dai' Llewellyn.
For the complete story of 'Dangerous Dai' Llewellyn turn to page 6.
For information on the Welsh, English, Scottish, and Irish teams turn to page 8.
"Uh-oh," Tonks whispered to herself, shaking her head. "He's not going to be happy about that." Sighing, she grabbed a muffin, buttered it up, and ate it, knowing that it would be a long day for Harry.
Harry arrived in the apparation point for the Holyhead Harpies stadium, located in Holyhead, Wales. Seeing people flying about in the air, he hurried his pace, not wanting to seem like he thought himself better than them by arriving late. The coach saw him, and gave a whistle, signaling for the others to land and come over. Six people landed, three girls and three guys, all carrying their brooms over their shoulders as the walked.
"Harry Potter!" The coach said, enthusiastically. He reached out, grabbed Harry's hand, and shook it, gripping it tightly. Harry returned the shake, tentatively, having seen the faces of the players over the coach's shoulder; one looked thoroughly displeased. "I was wondering when you would show."
"Yeah," Harry replied, moving his eyes over to the coach's. "I didn't get the letter until ten minutes ago and I came straight away." Then, turning to the group, he said, "Hey, I'm Harry."
"Think that just because you're a big shot you can show up late, do you, Potter?" A witch with dark skin and short dark brown hair sneered, looking at Harry with contempt. "As far as I'm concerned, you're nothing but a mercenary, not a true member of this team."
"Calm down, Gwenog." A man ordered, giving Harry a small, encouraging smile. "He's Welsh, he's one of us." He gave Harry a small wave and said, "I'm Taffy Timms, a Chaser."
"If he's Welsh, Taffy," Gwenog hissed, turning her scowl onto the blond Chaser. "Why wasn't he playing with us from the start? Why did he play with England at all?" She questioned with icy venom. Harry didn't expect that warm of a welcome, but he never expected someone to loathe his like she did.
"Because I had already been on the team when I found out I was Welsh." Harry answered, which made Gwenog open her mouth a few times then close it, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't think of the right words. "Taffy? Short for Dafydd, or…?" Harry asked Taffy, interestedly. So far, with the introduction of Taffy and Gwenog, the members of the team seemed to all have Welsh names.
"Yeah," Taffy nodded, politely. He had spiky blond hair, and hazel eyes, with a few bruises on his face. "But I go by Taffy pretty much exclusively."
"I'm Dillon Whisp, another Chaser." A tall, lean man said, grinning pleasantly. He had a deep scar under his right eye, clearly from getting hit with a bludger one too many times.
A woman, short and skinny, yet toned, stepped up, giving a small wave. "Aderyn Clagg, the last Chaser." Harry nodded, guessing that he would be playing Seeker this World Cup. He didn't mind it, as it allowed him greater freedom in the air; plus, he'd get to play against Viktor if their teams would meet in the Cup.
"Potter," A familiar face to Harry said. Harry turned his attention to the woman who spoke, his eyes going wide immediately.
"Demelza!" Harry gasped, seeing the woman for the first time. He hadn't seen her, Demelza Robins, since his time at Hogwarts, when she played for the Gryffindor team: she was a great player and a good witch who loved competition. She was a few years younger than him, so they only got to play against each other for two years but it was more than enough time for them to earn each other's respect. "You're a Beater now, I presume?"
"Yup, made the transfer after you left Hogwarts." Demelza nodded, flicking her bat into the air and catching it.
"I'm the Keeper, Owen Keitch." A stout man with a bulbous nose said. He wasn't very tall, but had huge muscles, making his presence into an imposing one.
"So I guess that makes me the Seeker." Harry laughed, hoping to ease the tension and get off on the right foot. His eyes moved over the team, stopping on Dillon: their last names stirred something in his memory, as if he had heard them before. "Whisp? As in the author of 'Quidditch through the Ages?'" Harry asked, cocking a quizzical eyebrow.
Dillon smiled, nodding in agreement. "My grandfather."
Harry turned his attention to the other Chasers. "Clagg, as in Elfrida Clagg?" He asked, a smile forming on his face. It was amazing how richly diverse the Welsh team was. "The witch who, acting as the Chieftainess of the Warlock's Council, outlawed the use of the snidget in Quiddtich games back in the 1300s?"
"Which then forced Bowman Wright to invent the Snitch." Aderyn finished, glowing with pride. "I'm a direct descendent of Elfrida."
"And Keitch, huh? Inventor of the braking charm? Played for the Falcons in the 20's?" Harry questioned, already knowing the answer. "Pretty famous team we have here."
"Only gets more famous with you on it." Gwenog growled, rolling her eyes. She couldn't stand the thought of Harry Potter coming onto her team and taking it over; put plainly, she was jealous and nervous that her thunder would be stolen. Being over thirty-five, it was probably her last go around in the World Cup, and she wanted to be the star, not have Harry Potter be it. "Devlin's here." She said, wanting to divert attention away from Harry and gesturing to the wizard that was walking towards them from the other side of the pitch, a trunk levitating behind him.
Author's note: In case there was any confusion, Harry's wand is completely different from the one he has in the real stories: it's made form a different wood, it has a different quality, a different length, and the Phoenix who gave the feather is different (this Phoenix has only given one feather, which is the one in Harry's wand.) Harry's wand stats: Ebony, 12 ¾, and limber, single phoenix tail feather: good for charm work. It's a very powerful wand.
As for the wand Harry has in the real books, it is in this story, and you'll be seeing it sometime.