Firebird's Son: Book I of the Firebird Trilogy Chapter 33: A New Year, a harry potter fanfic

A?N: Chap 32 Review responses are in my forums. Now, a notice. This will be one of the last quidditch-only chapters just because the tournament is wrapping up. Events from last chapter are fermenting, but starting with the next chapter we will begin to see things happen at a much faster rate, in part because of what happens when Harry faces a poaching attempt in this chapter. A little patience is requested. For those interested, there are 40 chapters in Book I. Book II will begin posting immediately after, so there will be no break between the books.

Chapter Thirty-Three: A New Year

Of course, Neville, Ron and even Seamus had to hear all about the ball when they returned to school after the New Year. The photographs were delivered by owl on the sixth and all of Harry's roommates enjoyed taking a look at not just the Hogwarts team, but all the other teams as well.

"Shite on a broom, look at Granger's tits!" Seamus said when he got his first look. "Who knew?"

"Some of it is the gown, Seamus," Neville said. "Look at Katie, she's not that heavy up top but that gown makes her look like she's about to bust a seam."

"Yeah, but Granger looks good." To Harry, Seamus said, "So did she let you cop a feel or take a peek? You know, to thank you for taking her."

Harry stared at his roommate in more astonishment than dismay. "Mate, do you even know Hermione?"

"What? She's a bleedin' Muggleborn who got to go to the International Ball in Geneva. She should be on her knees giving you a blow for that."

Neville shook his head. "Four years, and you haven't grown up at all, have you, mate? Besides, Hermione'd be as likely to bite it off as blow if you tried to make her do anything she didn't want to do."

"I'm just saying she should be grateful and all!" Seamus said defensively.

"So why don't you go tell her that, Seamus?" Harry said sharply. "Go tell her she should be grateful for getting the chance to be insulted by inbred Americans and purist bigots, so she should come give me a blow. Let's see how that works out for you."

Seamus's semi-playful smile turned into an expression of horror. "What, and get my bits hexed off? I'm not stupid."

Ron snorted and Harry just shook his head as he put the photos in his trunk.

~~Firebird~~

With their game against Florence coming up soon, Harry started his strength training again, and unsurprisingly he found Gregoria Goyle once again in the workroom, lifting twice what he was able to despite almost an entire term of hard work.

She did not acknowledge him as he came in, so he figured she was not in a talkative mood. Instead, he did his warm up exercises of push-ups, pull-ups and crunches before he headed for the heavier weights. An hour later, he had to depend on the safety charms to help him get the barbell back to the bench, and sat up with trembling arms.

He could actually see his magic seeping into the stressed muscle tissue, aiding and speeding the recuperation process. It was a huge advantage magicals had over Muggles when it came to strength-building. While Gregoria was still stronger than he was, he was able to lift easily twice what he did when he started just after one term.

Abruptly, Gregoria spoke. "My Mum wrote me a letter demanding to know who Hermione Granger was, and what her blood status was."

Harry froze and stared at her, hulking a few feet away and staring at him with a grim expression on her broad, hairy face.

"I told you to not take her, Potter. You think I was just trying to be mean? That was Dame Dolores with you, the biggest Blood Purist in the country. You know, the one who calls Muggleborns 'magic thieves'? And you took the big, know-it-all Muggleborn with you right under her nose. Now every coven in the United Kingdom knows the name Hermione Granger. They all know she's a Mudblood, and they all know she accompanied Harry Potter to an elite International function. You painted a target on her chest, you dunce."

"I had to take her," Harry finally said.

"No, you didn't," she shouted. Finally, she took a deep breath. "I was trying to do you a favour, Potter. But I'll tell you this right now—if you make me choose between my coven and you, I'll kill you myself."

Harry was so stunned he could not find anything to say as the larger girl stalked out of the exercise room. Finally, to himself, he muttered, "Who the hell was talking about killing anyone?"

~~Firebird~~

The Medici Scuola di Magia was not the oldest school of magic in Europe, according to the beautifully illustrated pamphlet Headmistress Maddelena Medici de' Mantua graciously provided to them. The school was founded by the second, secretly witch-born daughter of Lorenzo de' Medici. Given Rome's hard stance against all witch-born, the Medici Patriarch sent his daughter to Beauxbatons with a huge sum of money that was intended to act as her dowry.

Instead, she returned to Florence in 1492 after her father's death and founded the Scuola, the first magical school in Italy following the burning of the Scuola Italia under the orders of Emperor Theodosius in 380, when he issued the edict of Thessalonica declaring Rome a Christian Empire.

Within fifty years of its opening, the school flourished into a magnificent palace, patronized by the elite of magical Italy and Greece as an alternative to Beauxbatons, Durmstrang or Morgana forbid, Hogwarts.

The school itself was located on a verdant hillside south of Arno River. The campus consisted of five colonnaded buildings, each standing three levels high, surrounding a Quidditch pitch and a beautiful piazza. Just outside the southern-most building were two greenhouses and a bestiary.

Of all the schools Harry toured so far, the Medici school was by far the most beautiful. He walked along with his teammates as the ancient headmistress pointed out interesting sites, including the most comprehensive library of Roman magic in existence, and a surprisingly large collection of magical books taken from libraries in Istanbul, when as the city of Constantinople, it was raided by the Doge of Venice under the guise of yet another crusade.

Even the students seemed relatively friendly. Although, they could have been telling Harry to dig up and desecrate his dead mother's corpse for all the Italian he knew. Still, they smiled and seemed welcoming to the Hogwarts team.

The game that followed was challenging, but Harry had a good feeling within the first two minutes, when he was able to kick away the Quaffle in mid-pass on the Lion's opening offensive drive. Stephanie Barlow plucked the intercepted Quaffle out of the air, passed it on to Katie as the primary speedster of the Chasers, who did a breath-taking barrel-roll pass to Angelina, who then slammed it in for the score.

The Medici Seeker, however, was the best he'd faced since Viktor Krum. She was a sleek-looking girl with auburn hair tied back severely in a ponytail, with odd, yellow eyes and a determined grimace that might have been a smile. She flew close to the broom, reducing her drag and increasing her speed to truly impressive rates.

They saw the Snitch at the same time and both shot for it, bumping each other mercilessly as they jockeyed for position. It was, in fact, the first time Harry truly appreciated his strength training. The Medici Seeker used her hand to try and push him away from the Snitch.

He batted her hand away easily and pushed against her shoulder, putting every ounce of strength he had into the push. It was enough to knock the girl a good two feet off course, so when the Snitch took its all but inevitable detour—this time shooting straight down—Harry was able to do his reverse flipping dive without having to fight off the other Seeker.

She did not do the flip he did, but instead barrel-rolled, almost matching his speed. However, those few inches were enough and he snatched the Snitch out of the air just meters above the grass of the pitch. The two Seekers landed within feet of each other.

The girl surprised Harry with a laugh and a hug. "Incredibile! Sai volare in modo magnifico!"

"Er, thank you," he said, returning her smile.

The meal that followed was as delicious as what they had at Salem, consisting of lamb as the main entrée with an astonishingly delicious soup and warm, soft bread that just melted in Harry's mouth. When at last it was time to go, the Medici Seeker joined the rest of her teammates to see the Hogwarts students off, bowing to the boys and curtseying to the girls, until she came to Harry. Her eyes lit up, and to Harry's confusion and shock, not to mention the astonishment of the rest of the students, she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and delivered a searing, astonishing kiss.

At the same time, Harry felt her magic extending toward him, and with a sense of fear and shock, realized the girl was actually trying to poach him! He snapped his Occlumency barriers into place and pushed his magic against hers, rather than into hers. The effect was a shock, like from static electricity that made the girl jump back with a surprised yelp. "Cosa é successo?"

He didn't smile at her any more. Instead, he said as clearly as he could, "I'm not for you."

Behind her, one of her male teammates said something to her that made her frown and her eyes water. She turned away from all of them and ran out of the courtyard. Her teammate, a boy who looked Cedric's age, turned and studied Harry speculatively. "She is a Medici, a direct descendent of the school's founder," the boy said in fluent, albeit if accented English. "Being bonded to one such as her would be a great honour."

Harry nodded. "She is very beautiful. Please tell her that I'm sorry, but I've seen a little of my future, and it is not peaceful."

"We have heard much of you, Harry Potter," the boy said. "That you are a seer and an Aether. I will tell her this for you. It may help, it may not. I wish you the best, whatever fate may bring you."

The boy actually offered his hand, and Harry took it without hesitation, feeling the boy's earthen magic flowing strongly. Harry felt a sharp stab of pain and looked in the boy's eyes, seeing a brief glimpse of the boy and the girl standing before a magical priest. "She will be yours," he said softly to the boy.

The other boy blinked. "How do you know this?"

Harry smiled. "I'm a seer," he said simply. "Be there for her, and you'll get what you want."

The boy smiled, clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, and continued down the line.

~~Firebird~~

Two weeks later, Harry felt profoundly grateful that the Miskatonic game was at Hogwarts. Given their meeting with the Americans at the International event, he had no desire to see the school itself.

The students and their grim-faced headmaster, Peaslee, arrived by an enchanted flying yellow school bus. Dumbledore seemed to speak amiably to Peaslee, but Harry could see that the two wizards' magic clashed almost from their first words. Peaslee would have been a Slytherin, given his elemental leaning. However, Harry was equally astonished by the similarity in the two old wizards' power. Peaslee was almost as powerful as Dumbledore was, something Harry didn't even think was possible.

The students were just as grim and judgmental as he remembered over the holiday. They looked at all the students in Hogwarts with sneers and disdain, especially at the black or asian students. Harry felt a growing dislike of them just watching them interact during the tour. He sought out Angelina and said, "Am I the only one who wants to completely destroy them on the pitch?"

Angelina smiled grimly. "No, not at all."

The game started with the lead Chaser of Miskatonic attempting to foul Angelina with a violent kick to her head. Unfortunately for the American, Angelina was a far better flyer. She barrel-rolled away from the kick, stole the Quaffle and scored within the first ten-seconds of play.

In some ways, the game reminded Harry of his first game against Slytherin, only the Miskatonic players were not nearly as good. They attempted brute force over tactics, but evidently didn't realize that all the Hogwarts players were experienced against such tactics because of Slytherin. Moreover, Vincent Crabbe and Gregoria Goyle were both bigger and stronger than any of the Americans and beat down on them mercilessly with the Bludger, taking out two American players within the first hour.

It was a slaughter, and Harry never felt such justified satisfaction as he did when he caught the Snitch uncontested after driving the Miskatonic Seeker into the ground with a Wronski Feint. The final score was over three hundred to seventy.

Not surprisingly, the Miskatonic students did not stay for the meal after the game, and left the school without even congratulating the winners. Harry was glad to see them go.

~~Firebird~~

Mid-February came faster than Harry or Hogwarts was ready for, and with Australia's win over Miskatonic the final standings came in. Unsurprisingly, Brazil had dominated almost every game played, and were scheduled with their last game against the Medicis. However, having the most wins the Brazilians were guaranteed a spot in the playoffs no matter how their game with Florence turned out. Behind them came Durmstrang, with only one loss, which was to Brazil.

Unfortunately, there were three separate schools with two losses each, but only two spots available. Beauxbatons was heavily favoured against Salem, and having played both teams Harry thought it a sure thing. Australia, then, would be the key. If Hogwarts won, they would go to the playoffs in April. If they lost, their season was over.

Angelina had them in the locker rooms every night reviewing Omniocular recordings of each of the Australian's games. They studied just what Brazil and Beauxbatons were able to do to win. It also made Harry appreciate just how good the French team was when they weren't busy trying to be tricky.

They practised after each session, and by the time the Friday before the game arrived, Harry was mentally and physically exhausted. He was half passed out on one of the couches in the common room when Angelina came by and said, "No practise tonight. Get some rest. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

~~Firebird~~

The Kangaroo Island Academy of Magic was the youngest school of magic in the world, dating back barely a century. Its founder, Nicodemus Darling, was in fact still the headmaster, while the man's two wives served as joint deputy headmistresses and, from what Harry saw, did most of the work.

Despite being the youngest school, it was actually much larger than any of the other schools in terms of land area and student enrolment because of the huge number of ethnic students from Southeast Asia who had to flee governments that were decidedly unfriendly to witch-born, to the extent of murdering any child born with the tell-tale signs.

Harry heard this and shuddered.

As a consequence, though the school was founded by and run by anglos, the majority of students were actually asian, Indonesian or to a lesser extent Indian. India evidently did not practice the school-system of magic, since most witch-born there were taught in an apprenticeship method.

They all spoke passable English, though, and the island was beautiful, with striking rock formations and seals on the beach on the southern side of the island. The school itself was just a few miles north of Seal Bay and took up almost ten square miles of land enchanted to escape the notice of the Muggles.

The buildings were wood and stone, rarely over one story high, all with wide covered porches and large palm fans everywhere. The largest single structure in the school in fact was the Quidditch pitch, and it was that structure that dominated Harry's attention.

There was a larger than normal crowd at the pitch when they did their introductory lap. It was Cedric who said, "Lots of people from home. This is a deciding game for the championship. Let's give them a good show!"

What followed was an intensely played game on both sides. The Australians were very good players, with a Chaser attack as good as anything Angelina could formulate, a pair of brutal beaters who gave Gregoria and Vincent all they could handle, and a keeper who matched Cedric's stops shot-for-shot.

For the first time in the tournament, it came down to a true battle of Seekers. The Australian Seeker was a short Asian girl with close-cropped hair and a tattoo on her left cheek that looked as if a wild animal were biting her head. She was quicker on turns than Harry, but he had the advantage on straightaways. Neither advantage was significant, though. She defended her Chasers aggressively, disrupting his attempts at diving into the Aussie's formations. Fortunately he was able to stop her from doing the same to Angelina's girls.

The problem was that Hogwarts could not build any type of lead, and Harry was not at all sure he could steal a Snitch from his opponent. He wracked his brain as they flew around each other, desperately trying to figure out a way to get the advantage when a terrible thought occurred to him.

During a sub for one of the Australian beaters, he flew back to Cedric and Angelina. "Potter, what is going on with that girl?" Angelina demanded.

"She's good," he said. "Maybe better than me."

"We're going to need that damn Snitch," she said.

Harry looked intently at them. "Guys, I think I'm going to have to check her, hard. Like Krum did to me that first game. Remember how he dominated her during their match with Durmstrang?"

Cedric looked appalled. "You want to play like those cut-throats?"

Angelina, though, gave him an appraising look. "Think you can do it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, though his stomach rebelled at the thought. "I'll hate myself after, but I think I can do it.'

"Angie…" Cedric began.

"Cedric, you know as well as I do it's a common tactic," she snapped. "They do it in pro games all the time. Harry, do it. We'll take the foul shot if you can get control of the sky from her."

"Right."

Play resumed, and Harry looked for his chance, hating himself the entire time. Finally, the Aussie Seeker took position and dove toward Angelina and Stephanie in an attempt to steal a pass. Harry shot right at her from a different angle. He gritted his teeth, lowered his shoulder, and slammed right into her.

The poor girl flew off her broom and landed flat on her back twenty feet down. Harry, winded and sore from the hit himself, rolled to regain control of his broom, while around him the whole stadium erupted in angry boos at the tactic. In fact, it was the first foul of what had until then been an immaculately clean game.

The Australians glared daggers at Harry as they lined up for their penalty shot. With a free line and three goals to defend, Cedric simply wasn't able to stop the shot.

The Australian Seeker took the time from the penalty to catch her breath and remount her broom. Of course the fall wouldn't hurt her, not while she had magic to cushion her landing. However, she definitely looked shaken.

Ten minutes later, she started to try and disrupt the Hogwarts formation again, and once more Harry dove at her. This time, she saw him coming and turned hard away from him, leaving Angelina and the others a chance to score unmolested.

That foul set the tone for the rest of the game. She was good, but evidently Harry's greater mass and strength did a number on her. He noticed she didn't fly as fast, and favoured her left arm as she flew. He felt absolutely awful with himself, but he also knew it was the only way for the team to win.

When the Snitch finally showed up, she made a beeline for it when Harry came in hard, looking as if he would hit her rather than go for the golden ball. She shied away with a startled cry, disrupting her line of approach so severely she didn't have a chance to recover when the Snitch darted in a different direction. Harry caught it, winning the game.

After the game, Harry noticed the Aussies avoided looking at him, but he didn't care until he reached the Seeker. She was the shortest opponent he'd ever played against and barely came up to his shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked her. In front and behind her, her teammates bristled.

"I'm fine," she said. "That was a dirty foul."

"Yeah, it was," Harry agreed. "And I feel like shite having to do it, too. I think in a normal game you'd probably beat me."

"So you took it on yourself to cheat, right?" the boy in front of the Seeker said.

"Not cheat," Harry said, surprising himself with how determined he sounded. "Win. I'm not proud of it, but I did what I had to do for my team to win."

"Keep telling yourself that, you berk," the girl said. "Come on, guys."

At the press conference afterward, several reporters asked Harry about the foul. "Well, it was a hard lesson I learned against Durmstrang," he admitted. "If you establish dominance over the other player, you increase your chances of winning. I'm not proud of it, she was a damned good Seeker, but we came here to win."

"And he's certainly not the only player in the league to do an intentional foul," Cedric said quickly. "It is quite common among the better players. He talked it over with me before he did it, because honestly he did not like the thought of having to do it, but he felt it was necessary and I, as captain, agreed. So don't think it was a matter of Harry being mean—the kid doesn't have a mean bone in his body. No, it was a Seeker making a tactical decision and a captain agreeing with that decision."

"Do you think you would have won without the foul?" Harry moaned when he saw it was Skeeter.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "And that was exactly why I felt the foul was warranted. I won't apologize for the foul itself, but I do apologize for hurting my fellow Seeker. She is an extraordinary flyer, and I hope she continues to play."

Finally the day wound down, and an exhausted Hogwarts team made their way back home, knowing that in a month and a half, they would be going to the playoffs.

Author's Note: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. Also a heads up to Zincat for correcting the bad job Google did on my attempt at Italian. Thank you.