Firebird's Son: Book I of the Firebird Trilogy Chapter 11: Learning the Game, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Chap 10 review responses are available in my forums here on ff dot net. This is a much lighter chapter than the last few, so hopefully folks will enjoy the change of pace. Thank you all for reading!

Chapter Eleven: Learning the Game

A quiet, subdued Harry Potter returned to classes Wednesday morning, and then only because he begged to. Two days of contemplative isolation was simply too much. Despite the relative isolation of the First Years from the rest of the school, rumours still made their way along the hallowed halls of Hogwarts to greet him when he did return.

Students knew that the very evening he was released from the Hospital Wing after flubbing his first Quidditch game, he had put his roommate into the wing with such bad injuries that healers had to come from St. Mungo's. No one was punished. Whispers began to arise of special treatment for the Boy Who Lived, and unfortunately none of the professors said anything to dispel those rumours since the truth of an assassination attempt was deemed too frightening to be disseminated among the public.

Within the small group of First Year boys, the dynamic was more contained and more subtle. There was distrust and whispers, cold shoulders and angry glares. The only thing that gave the other boys pause was Ron's and Neville's staunch support that Harry did nothing wrong and that it was all just a misunderstanding.

"Yeah, he almost kills his roommate, and it's all just a misunderstanding for the bloody Boy-Who-Lived," Kevin Entwhistle said Wednesday afternoon before Wizarding Studies, while Draco Malfoy laughed.

"My father says that there was an official inquiry at the Ministry," the blond Slytherin added. "Potter is facing criminal charges."

Harry sat in silence as the others talked about him, staring at the diagram of the Ministry of Magic and the different departments. The talk had gone on all day, and despite Ron and Neville's attempts to defend him, he found he just didn't care. The Calming Draughts helped ease the pain of his almost-bond a little, but they couldn't make him care about anything other than the aching, hollow feeling in his chest. He didn't even understand why he felt so empty, just that it felt as if a part of him had been torn away.

Fortunately the professors by and large ignored him all day, and he muddled through. Finally, came the last two hour stretch of Muggle Studies. Today they were studying Muggle chemistry, which was a challenging subject at any time. Harry struggled all through class, only tenuously grasping the concepts Professor Burbage was attempting to teach. Shortly before the bell rang, though, a piece of paper appeared on his text book with the note: "Please stay after class."

After the other boys shuffled out for their free hour before dinner, Harry placed his books in his bag and simply stayed in his seat. Across from him, at her desk, Charity Burbage watched him with a sympathetic smile.

"Harry, would you like to know what happened, and why you feel the way you do?"

He perked up, if for no other reason than the possibility of learning the truth. "You know?"

"I do. Come here, I don't like to shout after hours."

Harry came and took a seat right beside her desk; he jumped when tea appeared. "Well, I've actually wanted to have this conversation with you for a while, all of the staff have," Charity began. "It was decided that it would be best if I were the one to discuss it with you, however. What you experienced, Harry, was the initial formation of a bond."

Harry stared at her and almost dropped his tea. "But you said…you said bonds could hurt me this young."

"And it did, Harry, didn't it?" she asked gently.

He placed the tea back down and nodded.

"Fortunately, the healer recognized what was happening. She asked for help and Professor Snape got you away. You must understand, it was completely involuntary on both your parts. While female aethers are rare, they are not unheard of, and they do not bond together at first glance. However, male aethers are so rare we don't have much documentation on how they relate to other aethers. Until today, that is."

"So what happened?"

"According to Healer Carlisle, the moment you looked at each other your mutual magical cores instinctively attempted to form a magical bond. She is married and bonded already; it should not have been possible. However, it happened. The formation got perilously close to completion, which is why it hurts you so badly. Fortunately, it was stopped in time, and you will feel better. I promise."

"I just feel empty now," Harry said dejectedly.

"Well, I do have something for you that might help a little." From her desk Charity removed another copy of Flying the Fifth Element: An Aether's Guide to Mind Magics. Harry's eyes bulged as he took the book and opened it to see his mother's picture.

"But, how? Seamus destroyed it!"

"Harry, this is a very popular book. It was the first published discussion of aether magic since Paracelsus, and a well-written book on top of that. Wizard books rarely sell more than ten thousand copies worldwide—this book sold over twenty-five thousand. If you ever lose this one, you can find another in any magical bookstore."

"Oh," Harry said. He deflated, somehow feeling disappointed. For a time, he imagined that the book was a message just for him from his mother; the realization that tens of thousands of people read it seemed to infringe on his imagined intimacy.

"It is still a valuable book, though, Harry," she said. "Healer Carlisle swears by it, and I think you should as well. There is also something else. You will receive tutoring in a specific type of mind-magic on Friday mornings during your first free study period. It is our hope that this tutorship and your mother's guidance will help prevent any more accidents."

"Oh, okay," Harry said with a nod. "Is that all?"

She jumped a little when she reached over the edge of her desk and took his hand. "It will get better, Harry. I promise."

"Professor, er, are you able to make bonds?"

"Yes, Harry," she said with a sad smile. "My condition prevents me from actively using my magic, but bonds are emotion-based and can form without any active magical awareness. However, claiming a wizard is competitive for witches, and squibs cannot compete against healthy, whole witches. If I ever become too lonely, then I would likely take the Veil and go Muggle."

"I'd marry you!" Harry blurted before his cheeks turned such a shade of red as to look bruised. "I mean, when I'm older. Professor Dumbledore's like two hundred years old. I mean, after that long does a few years really matter?"

A part of Charity wanted to laugh hysterically at the thought of this earnest young boy offering to marry her. At the same time, though, the small, lonely part of her soul exulted. "Oh Harry, if I were any younger, I might take you up on the offer. However, I think you are going to have enough of a struggle with the girls your own age."

Harry looked down in disappointment. "Bet none of them are as nice as you, though."

"You won't know that for sure until you get a chance to meet them. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, that won't be for a while yet. But you begin to see why we do not have co-educational classes, yes?"

Harry nodded his head fervently. "I like it. None of the boys show off like they did in my other school or act like they have to prove something. It's better this way."

"I agree," she said. "Now, let's talk Quidditch. I hope after all the pain you went through, your team learned something from the match…"

~~Firebird~~

After Harry left, Charity sighed in relief. The discussion went much, much better than she hoped. She was just finishing up her grading when she heard and knock and looked up to see Quirinus Quirrell standing at her door.

She felt a momentary flush of heat as the man's intense dark eyes regarded her. "Yes, Professor?"

"I have a confession to make," he said as he stepped inside, arms crossed, his turban positioned as always on his head. "I'm afraid I eavesdropped on your conversation with young Mr Potter."

Charity stifled a flash of irritation—Quirinus Quirrell was a powerful, dangerous wizard, known to have wiped out several Vampire nests in his time. "Why in Morgana's name would you do that?"

"I was worried about the boy," he admitted. "And, in truth, somewhat envious of those who have made a connection with him. James Potter was my first instructor at the Auror Academy, and in some ways I feel I owe it to Mr Potter to watch over him."

A blossom of heat returned. "Well, I'm sure it's appreciated. So what can I help you with?"

"Me? Nothing," He looked intently at her again. "I just wanted to say that you are a remarkable woman, Charity, for reaching out to him like you have. It is difficult, even in the best of times, to be a wizard in this world. I feel better knowing you have helped him as much as you have. So, thank you."

She had a hard time meeting his gaze as her cheeks flushed. "Well, you're welcome of course, but it is my pleasure. Mr Potter is a remarkable young man."

"Indeed he is." He smiled intently at her. "Well, I must go. But, if you are amenable and time permits, I would like to join you for tea sometime."

Charity's heart skipped a beat as she stared at this powerful, handsome wizard in shock. "Oh, well, I…I suppose that would be quite nice, thank you."

"Until then, I'll see you at dinner." His smile left her trembling.

When he was gone, she leaned back in her chair and said, "Now that's a wizard."

~~Firebird~~

The Gryffindor Quidditch team sat in a tight, sullen group as they watched the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws play two weeks later. Some of the sullenness came from the replacement of Angelina Johnson with Fred's friend, Lee Jordan. Katie and Alicia did not bother to hide their displeasure at having their friend Angelina replaced, and Harry received his share of that anger for being the reason for Angelina's absence.

However, between Oliver's almost hyperactive enthusiasm and the excitement of the game, it was difficult for anyone on the team to remain angry for long. This was made especially true because of how different the game was to the Gryffindor experience. The 'Claws and 'Puffs played a hard but fair game, with hardly any penalties at all.

"Look at the Chaser formations!" Oliver crowed. "That's exactly how Jack, Jen and Pauline played under Charlene Weasley, the last year we won the cup!" Oliver said. "Do you see now why we do the drills we do? Those were the drills Charlene cooked up that helped us win before. If we just keep doing them, I'm sure we can start winning again!"

For Harry, it was the very first game he had actually watched, and he found the experience thrilling. The Seekers did more than just fly around in circles looking for the Snitch—they engaged the enemy Chasers and challenged the Beaters; they harassed the Keepers and occasionally even kicked a Quaffle, as the rules prevented Seekers from actually touching the ball with their hands. In fact the only ball the Seeker was allowed to catch was the Snitch.

However, the Snitch was only worth fifty points, which meant if one team was really overmatched, even the Snitch would not help. In this case, though, the two teams were very evenly matched, and in the end it came down to two seekers—both sixth years—flying wildly after the Snitch. Harry watched their attack angles attentively, surprised at how often both Seekers would take a direct line to the Snitch despite the near certainty of it changing direction.

Finally, though, Hufflepuff pulled off the upset by ten points, ending a thrilling two hour match that left Harry breathless.

The next day during practice, Oliver set up a monocular in the play room, projecting the game on a wall much like a Muggle football game, only without anyone yelling "SCORE!" every time a goal was kicked.

The team watched not just the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw game, but also their first disastrous outing against Slytherin. The differences in play were astounding. When they finished both, Oliver said, "You've now seen every team play. Who's best?"

"Slytherin," Lee said, though it sounded like it hurt him to say it.

"No, but good guess,"

"Hufflepuff?" Harry ventured.

"Another good guess," Oliver said. "But I'm not asking who would win, but who's best?"

"Ravenclaw had the best formations, speed and reaction," said the sole reserve player in the back of the room. They turned and saw Angelina standing behind their chairs, arms crossed over her chest, scowling. "Their keeper had a better stopping percentage, they had more goals on point, and their beaters scored more hits. The Hufflepuffs were scrambling to stay even, and only won because of the Snitch and Palsey's foul."

"Right," Wood said, without acknowledging Johnson's disgrace as a reserve. "We'll find out in a month how the 'Claws and Snakes will do in a heads up game. Despite being the better team, the Snakes fight dirtier than any team I've seen, especially this year. The 'Claws have an older team—all sixth and seven years, and they've all been playing together for three to four years. They have timing, experience and familiarity. They have everything we lack."

He looked intently at the other plays. "This is the first year most of you have played. We're the youngest team in the school. I can't help the experience, but we can fix our timing and familiarity. I've been making you fly drills, but maybe instead I should work on timing more. All of you are decent enough fliers. What else should we work on?"

Harry hesitantly raised his hands. "Their Seekers did a lot more than I did."

"Exactly!" Wood said, grinning. "We're going to work on your interaction with the team, and see where that takes us. So, we used practice time viewing these games, so I'm calling a practice tomorrow. Come ready to fly."

They started to amble out. Harry was next to last out when he heard Wood say, "Angelina, wait."

He knew it was bad manners, but feeling some guilt over what happened, Harry lingered just outside the door and listened.

"What, Wood?" she asked, angrily.

"Did you actually learn anything, Johnson?" the team captain said.

There was a long silence and in his mind Harry imagined the two staring angrily at each other. Finally, Angelina said, "I know I shouldn't have. I…I heard Elfaba talking about what it felt like when he touched her tit. You boys just talked about Harry copping a feel, but Elfaba said he touched her magic. She said it felt incredible, better than bonding, and I just…"

Harry felt stunned at the sound of a sniff. "Wood, this place is shite!" she said angrily. "I'm a black Muggleborn! The boys won't even look at me, not when there are all these pretty little white English roses around me. Hell, I can't even get Lee Jordan to look at me. What am I supposed to do, just lie down and fade into spinsterhood?"

"Angie, you're thirteen years old," Wood said, suddenly sounding old. "You'll find someone, I promise."

"I wanted you, though," she said so softly Harry could barely hear.

"Trust me, you don't," Wood said. "Lilith White is an utter cow, and she'd make your life miserable."

"Then why'd you bond with her?"

"Because I was too stupid to wait until I was actually ready," he said pointedly. "You're a beautiful, talented young witch, Angie. I know you'll do well. Just lay off Potter—you know the professors have their eyes on him."

"Could I…could I come back on the team?"

"Not for our next game—you've been officially moved back and unless Lee gets hurt you're on reserve. But if you show me that you learned your lesson, frankly I'd love to have you back. You're our best chaser."

Harry heard another sniff. "Thanks, Ollie."

With a shuffle of fabric, Harry supposed that the two were hugging, and chose that moment to make his escape back to the castle.

~~Firebird~~

Snow was on the ground the morning of their next game on the first Saturday of December. Fortunately, the Quidditch Pitch was charmed to provide some relief, but not even the warming charms could completely warm up the freezing air.

After almost a month of intense practices, and two weeks of timing drills, Harry felt a lot less frightened and a lot more excited about their game with Hufflepuff. When Wood finally sat him down and explained that they played each team twice, and that the winner of each round would play in a school cup match (unless the same team won both rounds) he realized that these first games were not as important as he had initially feared.

Like the 'Claws and Snakes, the Hufflepuff team was comprised of Fifth, Sixth and Seventh year students, with only a single Fourth year. As a result, they were all older, larger and more experienced than the Gryffindors.

Despite a better start to the game, that difference in experience and skill began to show at the outset. However, Harry was pleased to see that Oliver Wood was actually a very good Keeper when not punched in the face, stopping the first five shots before a sixth got through.

Harry, desperate to make a difference, decided to employ one of the tricks he saw in the previous game and swooped in to try and disrupt the opposing Chaser formation. Of course, they were prepared and slipped past him easily enough, but what they were not prepared for was the sheer, devilish skill of the Weasley twins, who used Harry's attempt to position themselves for a perfect blow right into the chest of the Quaffle-bearing lead Chaser.

As the Chaser and Quaffle began to fall, Harry realized Lee was out of position to take advantage of it, as were Alicia and Katie. He pulled his broom up and over in an inverted dive, barrel-rolled, and then kicked the Quaffle as hard as he could just before the other Hufflepuff chasers recovered it.

The ball went nowhere near his Chasers, but he kicked it high enough to give Lee time to get into position. He caught it and managed to pass it off to Alicia who scored. Harry cheered as loudly as the rest, thrilled that he was able to actually make a difference in the game.

The game was a lot closer than any of the Gryffindors were expecting—or the Hufflepuffs, if the frustration on their faces was any indication. They were a good, solid team, but somehow the Lions kept managing to sneak in goals, while Ollie skilfully blocked most of their attempts. The fact that he had more blocks than his team had in actual attempts was a testament to the Hufflepuff's defence, but the fact that the Gryffindors only trailed by six or seven goals was a testament to how improved they were from their first game.

The one exception to the general improvement of their play was Lee. Though he tried hard, he just did not have the same confidence and drive that Angelina did. He shied away from Bludgers instead of trying to outfly them, and twice actually flubbed catches while trying to avoid being hit.

It was well into the second, chilled hour of play that Harry saw a golden gleam at the very edge of the dome of heated air that seemed to shunt the snow aside. He looked around the field and saw that the other Seeker was in a better position but didn't see it yet.

Then he caught Georgina's eyes. The lanky girl was eying Harry with a predatory smile that had nothing to do with bonds or boy/girl relations. Somehow, she knew he'd seen it. Using only his eyes, he looked at the other Seeker, then up.

Georgina nodded before grabbing her twin brother. The two then zoomed down the field, stealing a Bludger that had been hit toward Alicia and blasting it at the Seeker.

Harry shot off like a rocket the moment the other Seeker flew down to avoid the Bludger. He heard the roar of the cold wind against his numbed ears and adjusted his charmed goggles. He felt his hair tugging in the wind and the broom thrumming underneath him, while in the distance the Snitch dipped, somehow sensing its capture was imminent.

The other Seeker pulled up from his dive to see Harry making his move and tried to recover, but Harry did not give him a chance. Rather than head straight on, Harry took an angle, knowing that it would force the Snitch away from him. By controlling his direction of approach, he hoped to influence the Snitch's direction of escape. Of course, that's not how he thought it. Rather, he thought, Go this way to make it go that way!

And that's exactly what the Snitch did. Harry's approach caused the Snitch to dart away from him, causing the other Seeker to overshoot them both with a curse on his lips. Harry ignored the Hufflepuff seeker and the roar of the crowd as he willed the broom to go faster. Suddenly he shot forward in a burst of sudden acceleration that surprised even the Snitch, and snapped the little ball right out of the air.

The whole pitch reverberated with a gong-like sound. Only then did sound come back, heralded by an amplified voice announcing, "Potter has the Snitch. A valiant effort from a young Gryffindor team, for a final score of 130 Hufflepuff, 110 Gryffindor!"

Harry drifted down to the ground, emotionally and physically exhausted, and watched as the Hufflepuffs celebrated. However, when he looked back at his own teammates he saw Oliver Wood grinning maniacally. "Hear that, people?" he asked, barely heard over the noise in the pitch. "They only won by twenty. Fred, what were the odds?"

"They were expected to beat us by a hundred," Fred said. He began to grin too.

"By a hundred," Oliver said. "They were older than us, stronger than us, more experienced than us, and yet they could only beat us by two goals. Just two. We may have lost the battle, my friends, but the war's just getting started."

Harry wasn't allowed to join the celebration in the changing room, of course, since he was a First Year. However, Professor McGonagall was in an ebullient mood as she escorted him through the snow toward the castle along with lines of other students.

"Your parents would have been so proud of you, Mr Potter," she said fondly. "James was an extraordinary flier, and I saw much of his native skill in your flying today."

"I know we lost, but it feels like we won," Harry said. "Strange, isn't it?"

"No, Mr Potter, not truly. You lost the game, yes, but what I saw out there were seven separate young people merging into a single, unified team."

Harry smiled happily at the thought, and then said, "Professor, do you think you could let Angelina come back? I think she really is sorry, and Lee's nice, but she's better."

"We'll see," she said, and he could tell from her tone that she also thought it was a good idea.

Harry smiled, nodded, and then said, "I think she and Fred will make a great couple."

McGonagall blinked and looked down at him. "Oh, and where did this come from?"

Harry stumbled a little in the snow. By the time he straightened and continued, the Professor said, "Mr Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you think Fred and Angelina would make a good couple?"

Harry looked up and blinked at her. "I…who said that?"

McGonagall stopped. "You did, Mr Potter. You just, a moment ago, told me they would make a good couple."

"Huh," he said. "I don't remember that. That's strange. Come to think of it, though, they probably would. Their magic is a similar colour. But she won't be able to trick him—he's already sorta bonded with Georgina. You can see it in their magic when they're close. It's like they share the same fire. Huh, wonder why I said that?"

He looked puzzled as they continued toward the castle, while McGonagall looked oddly pensive, especially given her happy mood just moments before.

Author's Note: Very special thanks to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading.