authorsnotes: let the fun beginnnn

I so enjoyed writing this chapter! do let me know if you enjoyed it too!

shameless plug here: if you love harry/hermione, I have a new marriage law fic with them as the central pairing, it's on my page: Would You Have Me? do feel free to check it out!

songrecs: peaches - justin bieber (the tiny desk version is amaaaaazing)

As soon as they stepped into the classroom, he had a smile on his face.

He had enjoyed the first day back at school more than he had enjoyed any other first day of anything. He had enjoyed it more than he would have ever normally enjoyed school, grinning the whole way through, for many reasons, and none involving schoolwork (as it did Hermione, he could tell she was overjoyed to be back in the classroom).

He had spoken plenty to his Dad, to Sirius, to Lupin, had even managed civil conversation with Pettigrew. He had discovered lessons were different here and a touch easier, so he was keeping up even better. He was glad to be back at Hogwarts, home, and he had Hermione by his side, safe, well and with him. It was perfect.

Or almost perfect, and now as he wandered into Muggle Studies, the first ones present and slid into a seat next to Hermione, he knew it was going to be perfect as in walked his Mum, red hair tossed over her shoulder, sliding into the seat one across from him.

She shot him a smile before turning to her friend and he felt a flutter in his stomach. Seeing his Dad and talking to him had been amazing but with his Mum he was still a little awe struck. She was his Mum, brave and kind, Lily Evans alive and well. It would require a little more adjustment to be around her.

And he knew she could sense something with him. Hermione was naturally worried, which he understood but he wouldn't avoid his Mum, even when she gave him those searching looks as though she knew him, as though she could tell something about him. He couldn't and he was glad Hermione would never ask him too, even though she was a touch concerned.

"Alright class" The teacher called, someone he didn't recognise and when he looked at Hermione with a raised eyebrow, she shook her head. Huh, this teacher must be different, the first major change at Hogwarts.

He had no idea if Muggle Studies was more or less popular in this time, but attendance was sparse, only 10-12 students. Still, it did mean he was closer to his Mum, her bench next to his, though she was focusing on the teacher, which he too tried to do.

… And failed, ten minutes in he was feeling somewhat bored. The idea of the class held a lot of merit, looking at muggles from a wizarding perspective, but the reality was a muggle history lesson, which he already knew and had to stifle a yawn at.

In fact, most of the class seemed that way, except for (of course) Hermione diligently taking notes and his Mother – Lily, doing the same.

He almost laughed, but instead spent most of the lesson trying not to have a glazed over look in his eyes, stifling yawns and snatching glances at his Mother when she wasn't looking.

It was just so strange to see her, she looked younger than him now, her face clear of lines but with a smattering of freckles. Her long hair was an amazing shade of red, not strawberry blonde or ginger but red, her eyes were the mirror of his, almost to the exact shade, an emerald green, looking into her eyes had been like looking into the mirror.

She was beautiful, smart, perfect, his Mother – he felt lucky he could know her now, and as Hermione furiously took notes, his Mother doing the same, he rested his chin on the heel of his hand and basked in that luckiness.

Worth it – a million times over, a hundred million.

Dinner was better than lunch.

She still felt a little off kilter, tired and kind of like she had time travel jet lag. Her head aches and she felt ready to sleep, but she followed a grinning Harry to dinner, managing a smile herself to see him so happy.

Harry always had that effect on her. Seeing him happy always lifted her spirits and put a smile on her face. There were few people in the world whose happiness she valued over her own - Harry was one of them.

And so, she followed to dinner with a smile (strained as it might be), and when they arrived, she followed Harry's lead in giving herself a big portion of pie and mash, perhaps food would help her with some energy. She also poured a large glass of pumpkin juice out, drained it and then poured another.

Dinner was nicer too, everyone chatting about the first day of classes and then of course (because times clearly didn't change that much) Quidditch Trials.

She knew Harry was nervous, as Sirius and James were reassured, confident and cocky they'd be put back on the team. She felt the same, but for Harry, she had no doubt he'd make the team, the only person she felt sorry for was the current Gryffindor Seeker who she had no question would find themselves benched after tonight.

"How long you been playing?" James asked, smirking as he always did, Sirius too. She'd find it infuriating were the two of them not so charming.

And they were, both of them. She could practically see the girls around them undressing him with their eyes, James too (though slightly less, considering everyone knew he had a bee in his bonnet for Lily). She'd seen a fair few girls eyeing Harry too, which gave her an odd squirmy feeling.

She knew it was because she didn't want another girl coming into Harry's life. They needed each other, and she knew no potential girlfriend would be happy with the two of them sleeping in the same bed nightly. No, she didn't need that drama right now.

She felt it was reasonable, to want her and Harry to avoid any romantic entanglements whilst they worked everything out, though the number of girls eyeing him certainly would be working against her.

"A while" Harry said, not revealing much more which had the Marauders laughing. She shot him a grin, perking up some with dinner and the confidence that tonight Harry would be grinning from ear to ear as he made the team.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked, "Position?"

"Seeker" He shot back, Hermione knew it was part nerves for the trials and part nerves for talking to two of the people who he loved most, and they didn't know it. It was almost bittersweet, but being back here, safe, comfortable, warm, knowing they could change things, ensure their loved ones had a good life? That tipped it firmly into the sweet category.

"You're in luck" James said with a grin and it jolted Hermione a touch just how much he looked like Harry when he did that. She was very thankful Harry had come up with the idea of admitting his Potter heritage (in a fashion) because the similarities were too much to explain away. "The Seeker graduated last year, though I heard it's going to be contested, lots of talent"

"None of them will be as good as Harry" She said confidently, taking a large bite of pie, each morsel of food slowly but surely revitalising her. She couldn't eat that much, same as Harry, stomachs having shrunk after so long on the run, but eating simple, warm, tasty food? It was heaven, and she savoured every mouthful she could manage.

"Oh really?" Sirius had that twinkle in his eyes and when she rolled hers, he just laughed, she could tell he actually liked her immunity to his charms, "How good are you?" He said turning back to her best friend then.

She however scoffed, knowing Harry was about as modest as it got in a person, and before he could downplay himself, she spoke up, "Harry is about as humble as it gets, so I'll just say, you're already looking across at your new seeker" She grinned at him as he rolled his eyes at her, though Harry's smile at her confidence in him perked her up even more.

"I guess we'll see" Sirius said with a smirk, and then all three of them suddenly dove into a very long-winded conversation about feinting techniques. With Pettigrew and Lupin immersed in a chat about Potions, and her headache slowly receding Hermione just focused on eating her food, basking in the warmth of the hall, and through one eye watched her best friend chatting and laughing with two of the people he loved most, his own smile only amplifying hers.

The second they approached the Quidditch pitch he felt his nerves settle and a smile broke out on his face.

The last time he'd seen the pitch it had been on fire, he'd been mourning a place of such joy for him being lost, but now it was returned to its glory. It hadn't changed at all, the same shape, the same stands, and house flags decorating each bit, and he found great comfort in that, the similarity.

Again, he felt his nerves spike a touch, as always with Quidditch, but he still felt comforted, calmed, and as Hermione squeezed his hand, he felt even better again.

He could do this. Hadn't Hermione proclaimed as such? And he trusted no one more in the world than he did Hermione.

"You'll do great Harry" Her words sounded like a promise and Harry knew Hermione didn't promise without just cause. He did still feel a touch of his worries in his stomach, but they weren't as bad as normal, and so he gave Hermione a nod, reassuring her - he was okay.

"I'll see you after" He said and she offered him a nod, one last squeeze and then she was hurrying towards the stands. He however, headed in the opposite direction, to the changing rooms.

It felt strange, changing into some plain robes, not emblazoned with the Gryffindor Crest or his Quidditch number – 7. Still, he pulled them on, his gloves, boots, grabbed his broomstick from where he'd brought it down earlier, and took a deep breath as others filed in, changing, and getting themselves ready.

Now came the nerves.

"Alright Harry?" James said then, as he too emerged dressed, but wearing the Gryffindor robes this time, the number 3 emblazoned across his back, "Don't be worried"

He managed a nod, the undeniable comfort of his Dad (whether he knew it or not) reassuring him bleeding into his veins, settling him a touch, well before he felt his broomstick snatched out of his hand. He whirled to the side before rolling his eyes as he noticed Sirius holding it, a low whistle leaving his lips.

"Damn Potter this is top of the line" Sirius said with a shake of his head, he noticed Sirius held a Comet 220, and James the same, both top brooms but second to the Nimbus. "How'd you manage this?"

"Rich parents" He said with a shrug, but the lack of bragging in his voice dispelled any envy, though he could see a fair few people looking over now, "Left me everything" Now that had people looking away uncomfortable, no one could feel jealous of a boy with a rich broom but no parents … well, at least whilst he wasn't on the team.

"Lucky" Sirius said with a cheeky grin and Harry had to stifle a smile at the double meaning, "Let's go then" Sirius said, handing the broom back over, slinging his over his shoulder. Harry managed a grin then, he'd never have that confidence, instead holding his in hand, but following his Father and Godfather out onto the pitch.

The acceptance at which the Marauders had shown him, and Hermione was a touch overwhelming at times. He knew they weren't quite part of the inner circle, but friends, and that was good enough for him. He also knew they could break into said inner circle and had a few ideas he needed to run by Hermione to do so.

For now, though he focused his mind, forced himself to focus as he followed them out onto the pitch, the tension in him now making itself known, as he walked out onto the grass, ready to earn his place.

There were … a lot more people than he'd anticipated.

When he'd been Captain there had been a good showing but ravaged by the first war there had been less students all together and so less potential Quidditch players. Here the school was thriving, and so were the potential competition.

Seventh years a foot taller than him, fifth years who glared and sneered, his Dad and Godfather both confident, brazen and then the Captain, Jonathan Ogden as he'd introduced himself with a smirk, ordering them into the different positions they all wanted to try for.

He glanced up at the stands (which were heaving), as he made his way over to the Seekers, Sirius clapping him on the shoulder and his Dad offering a 'Good luck' before they made their way over to the Beaters and Chasers respectively, leaving him alone.

He looked up, and smiled as Hermione was as always, carrying a book, though she wasn't reading it, chatting in a flurry to Remus, Pettigrew joining in too, all of them ignoring the pitch until the people they'd come to cheer for were up. Seeing her calmed him a touch, but his nerves wouldn't be eased fully, not a chance until this was over.

And those nerves only grew as he walked across the pitch, and he could see every position had a lot of competition.

The Captain played Chaser, so only two spots were going there, his Dad already wore his robes, confident he'd be repicked, and so the other 10 students were all eyeing each other up nervously.

For the Beaters Sirius was chatting to a short girl with platinum blonde hair and huge blue eyes, a bat held menacingly in her hand. There were only five others who'd showed up for that tryout (and many were shooting the short blonde girl fearful looks), evidently Sirius and his friend would likely not lose their spots.

And then the Keepers. From the gossip he'd heard, both the Keeper and Seeker had graduated last year and so both spots were highly contested. For the Keepers there were about 12 try-outs, from giant 7th years, to skinny 3rd years who were looking nervous.

The Seeker position though was the worst.

About half the Gryffindor year group had shown out for it he was sure, including himself. The Seeker role was a highly coveted position and so evidently the most popular. Despite Hermione's complete confidence in him (and Hermione's confidence in something he rarely questioned), he was not so sure.

Nerves curled in his belly - he couldn't imagine not playing for his house team. He loved the practice, the matches even with the worry. He loved being part of the team, lifting the Quidditch cup. With a bitter twist of the stomach be remembered his ban in 5th year, how awful that had been, and he knew here not being able to play would be unbearable.

That did give him a bit of grit, a fire in his heart, and yet as he felt a surge of confidence (though still sick with nerves - it actually felt very much like the morning of a match), he was being ushered off the pitch, Keepers would go first.

He remembered then with a fond smile Ron's tryout, Hermione's little trick (though he knew she'd do no such thing now, she was too sure of him to bother, and for that he was glad), and when he'd been Captain, but things were different now, he needed to earn his place again, and he intended to do so.

The Keepers went first.

It was just as he had held tryouts, the best saving Keeper got the slot. Most people saved 2 or 3, both his Dad and the Captain clearly leagues above everyone else when it came to scoring (though he spotted a few who would fight over the third spot). It was only the last two who saved four a piece, going back to another round of head-to-head.

It was after the next round, one saving four, the other managing five (and by the tips of his gloves), was Michael Prestick, a Muggleborn 6th year with arms the size of trucks and a kind smile, surprisingly agile but not having to move far to thump away the quaffle.

Next came the Chaser's and that was quick, James and the Captain put five away easily, and then it was a 4th year, Isha Tandel, pretty, with long black hair and a right arm that put some of the chasers on his team to shame who took the last spot with a triumphant grin.

The Beater's took even less time. The five who'd shown up knew they didn't stand a chance and seemed to barely try. It was then Sirius, and who he learned to be Marlene Mckinnon (one of his Mother's best friends if he remembered correctly), up, and whereas Sirius was good, great aim and a strong arm, Marlene was terrifying, fast, agile and without mercy. It was with a grin Sirius high fived her as James limped off his broom after she'd got him in the stomach, and they both made the team.

Finally, he was up.

His nerves doubled, and he found himself searching the stands again. This time Hermione was looking his way, and her smile, quiet nod and then very loud cheer had him grinning, mounting his broom, and getting ready.

He knew he just needed to do what he always did; focus, fly true and pull off something daring. He knew a lot of his Quidditch talent was innate, but his competitive nature and disregard for danger certainly helped.

He expected there to be a time trial or perhaps rounds, but instead the Jonathan just grinned, released the snitch, blew the whistle and with wide eyes and the whoosh of brooms around him Harry realised this was it – catch the snitch, get the spot.

He was the last off the ground, getting his bearings, and then he was off, into the air, and he felt calm the second the breeze hit his cheeks. He smiled to himself, the Nimbus 1900 wasn't as fast but being back in the air was a dream, just what he had missed and needed, and so with a sigh he allowed himself just a few seconds to enjoy it, eyes shut, wind in his hair, just a few seconds, a few precious seconds of what he loved most.

And then his eyes snapped open, he steeled his shoulders, felt that fire in his veins, and he was ready.

He whirled through the air, fast and without fear, darting in between players, eyes flickering side to side for the snitch. A bludger whistled past his ear and he realised it wasn't as simple as 'catch the snitch'. Another came his way quickly and he used the Slothgrip roll, executing it perfectly, a grin lighting up his features as he ducked under a player, and kicked higher into the air, surveying the pitch.

Those around him were doing the same, but the key difference was that few of them moved. They sat stationary, waiting for the snitch to come to them, Harry was mobile, agile, weaving and ducking, he would go to the snitch.

And so, he did.

He spotted it about five minutes in, circling the foot of a nervous 2nd year barely holding onto his broom. He leaned forwards but didn't go too fast, not to tip anyone off, but as he approached closer, a rushing overhead made him realise, he wasn't the only who'd spotted it, two others had.

In a second he was flat against his broom racing forward, to the snitch that now flickered and then raced forward, him and now four others following, he was faster, flat against his broom, diving low to the ground as it dropped and back up as it soared. He was just a touch more responsive, his reflexes better, and as it weaved through the pitch and then made for the stands, many dropped away, only he and three others followed it.

It skirted close to the seats, and one of his competitors backed off, getting too close, the other two were cautious, but not Harry, never Harry.

As it flew into the stands and then dived into the wooden slats holding said stands up, he followed without hesitation, straight into the underbelly of the stadium, only one other followed.

They were quick, but he was quicker, weaving in and out of the beams, it reminding him of facing Malfoy in 2nd year, but Malfoy had been harder to beat, fast like him, and so, as he wove through, and heard a crunch he didn't look to his left to know the other person had faltered.

He was quick, too quick as he heard two others who'd braved following him now, but they were too late and with a sweep forwards, the crash of wood against his side ignored (and the stinging pain ignored too), he flattened himself to his broom, leaned forward, dangerously close to crashing, and his fingers closed around the snitch.

Just as the end of the stand frames loomed ahead.

But he was quick, pulling straight up, straight into a loop-de-loop to pull up, snitch in hand, silence, Hermione's screams of joy first, a pause and then the roar of the team filling his ears.

It was as sweet as any win, as James and Sirius ran for him, boosted him onto their shoulders, the Captain was grinning from ear to ear and Hermione was soon on the pitch, pulling him down, throwing herself into his arms, it had been a long time since he'd felt this happy.

It was perfect, James, Sirius, Remus, hell even Pettigrew cheering, proclaiming the Cup was already won, Jonathan the Captain clapping him on the shoulder, overjoyed, his Mother smiling stood with Marlene, and then Hermione grinning from ear to ear.

Completely and utterly perfect.

sooo thoughts?

as always I am overwhelmed by the positive response to this story, thank you to each and every one of you!

I have had a few questions about pacing and don't worry, I'll be treating this a touch like the books, in that the significant moments are focused on and then months pass. it will all be VERY clearly explained too so have no fear!

I do hope you enjoyed, do leave a review and let me know, fav/follow for updates too!

speak soon