Harry smiled to himself as he shot forward on his broom. Madame Hooch, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore had managed to arrange to get him a custom broom, stepping around the restrictions on first years having their own brooms by labeling it a "mobility aid". It was based off the Shooting Star model, but shorter and with a bit more filigree added once the makers learned it would be made for the Harry Potter. The custom made broom even had a special name etched into the side: Wishing Star.

The makers had apparently wanted to base the custom broom off the Nimbus model originally, but someone had apparently sent them a Wizarding picture of Harry on a Shooting Star, and that had apparently been that. He idly wondered if the model would get a modern update as the Nimbus model had been given the furor everything about him seemed to generate. Still, all of that was easy enough to put from his mind. After all, the game was on!

He shot through the air in an arc towards his destination, idly taking in everything around him as he did, his ears - metaphorically speaking, as he wasn't entirely sure he had physical ears anymore - filled with the odd warbling, ringing, musical sound he'd come to associate with flight ever since his first lesson. Oliver Wood was floating by the goal hoops, Ron's brothers were racing towards the balls that flew themselves around, and the other players on the Gryffindor team were shooting towards the red ball.

Harry didn't know what the balls were called, or what everyone's roll was. Oliver Wood was supposed to have taken the time to explain it all to him, but with everything else that had happened in the past few months Harry simply hadn't had the time to focus on the game...and in fact had completely forgotten about it until the day before. It had been Fred who had pulled him aside on the way to the field to explain his role.

"Your job in the game is simple, Harry," Fred explained as he carried the tiny firsty towards the field. "The golden ball with wings is called the Golden Snitch. Your job is to catch it. That's it. Shouldn't be too hard."

Fred had been right, honestly. Harry had spotted the golden ball the moment it had been released, and had been locked onto it right up until the moment Madame Hooch had declared the game begun and he'd taken off after it. Still, he did want to take the time to take in the entire field. Everyone else seemed to be taking their time, after all.

Glancing over at the stands, Harry saw Ron and Hermione sitting together, Hagrid slowly nudging his way through the stands towards them. Harry hadn't had much of a chance to interact with Hagrid since his transformation, and he found he missed it. He resolved to himself to spend some more time with Hagrid when the opportunity arose. Maybe Mr. Lupin would be willing to hold their tutoring at Hagrid's hut? That would be enjoyable, he thought, and Mr. Lupin was a really good teacher! The theory of Defense Against the Dark Arts was making a lot more sense under his tutelage than trying to just read the books, and he knew a lot of spells he was happy to teach Harry through the simple expedient of feeding them to him.

Letting his eyes trail over the stands, he found his gaze drawn to Ariana. He had wondered why she wasn't sitting with Ron and Hermione, but that became clear now. She was sitting next to Professor Dumbledore...and Professor Dumbledore? The brief moment of thinking he was seeing double almost made Harry lose his grip on his broom, but he was quickly able to make sense of it. The older man sitting on Ariana's other side looked a great deal like Dumbledore, with similar hair color, eye color, face shape, age, and careworn lines in the face telling of a long life of great pain. However, where the Headmaster's face was almost always in an expression of amusement and giving the air of one who sought to find the joy or humor in everything he encountered, the other one had the air of one who had lost patience with 'that nonsense' a long time ago. In fact, it looked like he had been glowering angrily at the Headmaster for some reason, though his expression was softening as Ariana tugged on the front of his robes.

Thinking about this, Harry nodded to himself. Ariana had mentioned she had two brothers, so this must be the other Dumbledore. It was good to see he'd been told about her return, though he found himself wondering what all was going to happen there if things were so frosty between the brothers...especially when they had to pretend she was the Headmaster's granddaughter. Something about the grumpier Dumbledore's expression suggested he didn't trust the Headmaster with Ariana, for some reason.

Harry let those thoughts go as he reached out to grab the Snitch, glancing over the rest of the teacher stands as he did. Professor Snape seemed to be glowering around him for some reason, while the rest of those in attendance seemed relaxed. Professor Quirrel wasn't present...which was honestly a shame. Harry didn't know why the DADA Professor couldn't be near him without clutching the back of his head in agony, and he found he regretted not being able to attend his classes. Sure, Hermione had difficulty finding something positive to say about them, Ron didn't bother, and Ariana chose not to comment...but it was still a bit disappointing he wasn't able to be in class with his friends. He perked up as the thought struck him that maybe he could get Mr. Lupin to tutor them as well instead of them continuing to take lessons with Quirrel. Ariana could certainly deliver that message without him struggling through complex charades.

...not that he wouldn't do the complex charades anyway. Those were actually kind of fun.

Letting his mind return to the present, he flew up to Madame Hooch, waving the Snitch over his head. "Hoyo!" he declared happily as he did so. He'd caught it, and that's what he was supposed to do in the game, right? "Hoyo?" he asked curiously, wondering what he was supposed to do next.

...that was weird. Everyone was staring at him now and just hovering where they were. Why were they doing that? It had been odd enough how slowly they had been flying...wait, was this supposed to be a leisurely game? Did he do something wrong?

He floated there uncertainly, letting one of the iron balls whiff by him, sending him spinning around his broom before he stopped upright. The red ball Madame Hooch had tossed into the air to signal the start of the game came down and bounced off his head. He blinked as he turned to look at it. Weren't the other players going after that?

Suddenly the voice of Lee Jordan - a friend of Ron's twin brothers - echoed across the field. "Uh...while unexpected, Harry Potter catches the Snitch! With a time of...holy shit-"

"Mr. Jordan!" McGonagall snapped out. "Language!"

"But Professor, his time is 0.68 seconds! That's a new world record!"

"...holy shit..." McGonagall's whisper was barely audible due to the sound amplifying spells.

"HOYO?!" Harry asked in shock. How had he caught it that fast? There's no way he could have reacted that quickly! Besides, he'd been taking his time and enjoying himself since everyone was going...so...slow...

...oh. They hadn't been going slow, had they? Oh dear, it looked like Hermione just fainted for some reason...