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Harry Potter And The Game of Death
Level 1
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Joining the Team
"Je comprends pas pourquoi ça a merdé!" Fleur swore like a sailor as Gabrielle pulled her upright.
The healers had taken care of the major physical and magical wounds which had been inflicted upon Fleur before waking her, but Fleur's body ached from the lesser injures which had gone untreated. Her clothes were soaked in both vomit and sweat, while the coppery tang of fresh blood still filled Fleur's nose from when the woman's brutish fist had smashed into it.
The meticulous figure Fleur usually maintained was nowhere to be seen, though its absence was but the smallest issue currently weighing on her mind. Not after the complete and utter defeat which had been the third and final match between her and that barbaric pink-haired woman.
"Well, ma souer, I would say zat it began when you decided to duel ze woman. Zen it got worse when you beat 'er so easily in your first match and taunted her over it. And it finished after 'er lover blew you zose kisses; she did not seem to like zat very much."
Gabrielle's oddly cheerful voice pierced through Fleur's anger as the younger girl helped Fleur to regain her balance on wobbly legs. "I 'ave to say, zough, zat ze woman was most impressive. She, as ze English like to say, 'ad 'er way wiz you at ze end."
"Gabi!" Fleur hissed at her little sister in annoyance. Just because Gabrielle's words paralleled her own thoughts did not mean that Fleur wished to hear them spoken aloud.
"What? It is ze truth, ma souer," Gabrielle replied flippantly. Unlike Fleur, Gabrielle's accent when speaking English had made noticeable strides during the summer. As had the younger girl's command of the language as a whole. "We both know zat maman will be even harsher to you when she learns of what 'as 'appened today. Is it not better to acknowledge ze wound to your pride now zan to 'ave it destroyed later?"
Fleur hung her head at her younger sister's mild rebuke. Gabrielle was right. Of all the wounds which had been inflicted upon her in the duelling ring, it was the wound to her pride which stung Fleur the most.
Being beaten by a superior opponent was one thing. But being beaten by a superior opponent because you carelessly antagonized them was entirely different. As Appolline had stated more than once to both of her daughters.
"'ere 'as zat wooman gone?" Fleur asked as her sister assisted Fleur in leaving the ring. "I wood speak weez 'er so I may learn 'er name."
Despite having three matches in a row, neither woman had given the other their name. A feeling of tension had sparked between them from the instant they had lain eyes upon the other and had resulted in both women discarding the usual formalities present at the beginning of most duels.
"Ze last I saw of 'er, ze woman – 'ose name is Nymphadora Tonks – was 'eaded out wiz 'er lover. Ze two of zem seemed to be in quite ze heated discussion and I would assume zat zey are long gone."
Fleur made sure to memorize the woman's name. "Merci, ma petite souer. Zen let us return to maman's tent. I weel speak to 'er about what 'as 'appened today before she can 'ear oof eet from ze mouzs oof ozzers."
"A good idea! If it 'elps, I learned from ze woman's lover, 'Estia, zat ze two of zem are recent graduates of zis country's Auror program, and zat Nymphadora is considered to be somezing of a prodigy."
Hearing that titbit took some of the sting out of Fleur's defeat. As thanks for the information, Fleur drew her sister in for a hug. "Zank you for 'elping me, Gabi. You are ze best leetle seester I could ever 'ope to 'ave."
"I know. But you stink, ma souer! Please stop 'ugging me until after you 'ave taken a bath."
Laughing quietly at her sister's cheeky tone, Fleur gave in to her request. She allowed Gabrielle to lead her from the duelling arena and back to their mother's expansive personal tent, where she drew herself a bubble bath and allowed herself to soak away the troubles of the day.
The next morning saw a drowsy Harry standing alongside Ludo Bagman on a damp Quidditch field in the middle of nowhere.
Standing in front of them were the six healthy members of Britain's team. Three men and three women, each of whom displayed varying levels of wakefulness as they stood in a loose line. Whilst Andromeda, dressed in formal robes while standing in as Harry's guardian for the day, stood off to one side with an assistant from the Daily Prophet, hiding a yawn behind a delicate hand.
As Ludo began to speak, Harry wondered what he was getting himself into.
The plan to join the national squad had been a success. When Harry had floated it, Sirius had seized on the idea like a Jack Russel after a bird. He had apparated out of the Cottage that very evening to get Ludo to join in, as Sirius insisted that the man's help would be key to it.
Sure enough Harry's godfather had been right. Though it had taken some sacrifice on Harry's part to make it happen.
As it turned out, Ludo kept track of the games at Hogwarts and was able to recite the details of every game Harry had played in from memory. A detail that had surprised both Harry and Sirius and made them somewhat wary that they were walking into some sort of trap. But the flip side of things was that all this knowledge had meant that Ludo had been easy to convince. The only thing Ludo had asked for in return was that, should things go well with Harry joining the team, that he be credited with the idea in full.
Accepting the deal had made Harry wince, but the pain to his pride and self-respect would be worth it in the end.
After an hour spent haggling and arguing in a closed room at the Stadium, Ludo had somehow managed to convince the team's sponsor, an elderly wizard whose nearly sheer Muggle bathrobe made him look senile, to sign off on the matter as well.
Back in the present, Ludo's booming voice rang out across the flat moor as the man strutted along the line of players, both hands clasped behind his back like a wannabe drill sergeant.
"Righto, chaps, look alive I say!" Ludo called out in a chipper tone. "A stiff upper lip in the face of adversity is the mark of a true Quidditch player! You might be down a comrade in arms, but you're still in the game. You're still representing this great, beautiful nation of ours. And if you are the team I believe you to be, one of strength and grit, then I know you'll rally to the cause and continue to fight onward! What say you? Are you with me?"
Harry listened with one ear as the English team's players gave the man a lukewarm 'huzzah.' Ludo probably felt that his speech was stirring and inspirational, especially with the sun rising behind him as he talked, but to Harry the man came off as nothing more than a braggart who had dragged everyone out of their beds at far too early an hour.
Most of the team seemed to agree with Harry. Half of them visibly tuned the man out as he continued to speak while the other half spent the time yawning and nodding their heads in feigned acknowledgement. Harry found himself yawning as well and hoped that Ludo's narcissistic display would not take too long.
The one thing Harry made sure to do was take advantage of everyone focusing on Ludo to cast a stealthy 'Observe' on the man and each of the Quidditch players.
Three people, including Ludo, were too high for the ability to work, but the other four members were within Harry's detection range.
Ding!
Brian Miller
Age in 1993-94: 32
Level: 151
Stats:
STR: 95
DEX: 107
CON: 90
INT: 148
WIS: 135
CHA: 215
Traits:
Professional Quidditch Chaser
Half-Blood
Gullible
Vain
Annabelle Chase
Level: 146
Age: 28
Stats:
STR: 90
DEX: 101
CON: 88
INT: 151
WIS: 155
CHA: 285
Traits:
Professional Quidditch Keeper
Free Spirit
Boy-Who-Lived Fangirl
Negotiator
Sweet Tooth
Malcolm O'Toole
Level: 150
Age: 43
Stats:
STR: 96
DEX: 111
CON: 98
INT: 163
WIS: 180
CHA: 185
Traits:
Professional Quidditch Chaser
Duellist
Boy-Who-Lived Fanboy
Housekeeper
Genevieve Smith
Level 138
Age: 26
Stats:
STR: 81
DEX: 104
CON: 91
INT: 162
WIS: 275
CHA: 145
Traits:
Professional Quidditch Chaser
Duellist
Loyal
Patient
Huh. Harry had guessed as much, but Quidditch players seemed to be significantly more powerful than most other adults. They had better traits too. Most of which – aside from the two with the 'Boy-Who-Lived Fan' traits – were fairly good and seemed to make their bearers more powerful.
"But enough of my words, you brave men and women of the sky," Ludo continued to pontificate. "I'll give the floor over to the person you must be dying to meet. The one whom I set this meeting up to introduce. Why it's none other than he who saved our nation from a terrible threat more than ten years ago, and who stands poised to save our Quidditch hopes today, Haaaaaaaryyyyy Potter!"
Harry gave a start when he heard his name. This was the part of the plan he was least looking forward to; being used as an icon and having to make an attempt at being the absurd persona given to him by the British Wizarding world.
So rather than attempt to say something wise, or blow a bunch of hot air like Ludo had, Harry nodded his head in encouragement whilst silently pumping a fist in the team's direction.
Scores of crickets chirping in the surrounding grass gave tell to Harry's enormous level of success.
Ludo shot him a dirty look before coughing into a clenched fist. "Well, he's, er, a man of few words, I'd dare say. But one made of sterling character nonetheless. The ideal image of a stoic Briton if you were to ask me. Now come on up and shake his hand, ladies and gents, and take advantage of this rare opportunity to seek words of wisdom from Britain's youngest hero."
Looking as if they could hardly believe the person standing before them was actually the much-dramatized Boy-Who-Lived, the team made their way over to shake Harry's hand.
The first person in line was the team's captain. A burly and bluff-faced woman by the name of Bronwen, she looked like she could have eaten Harry's old Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood, for breakfast and still had room to spare.
"Good to meet you, Harry," the woman said as her massive hand enveloped Harry's much smaller one. Her light accent, delightfully delicate for someone who appeared so tough, came as a surprise. "The country owes you and your family a great debt of honour, that it does. I'm glad you were able to come down to the pitch this mornin' to meet me an' the rest o' the team after what 'appened yesterday."
Harry hid his wince as the woman's firm grip began to crush his hand. Up till now Dora had been the most physically powerful woman he had encountered, but Bronwen's grasp put the Metamorphagus' to shame. It was no wonder both played the position of Beater.
"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate your kind words. And coming here today was the least I could do; I was in the stands when the incident happened and saw the whole thing."
That, and Harry suspected it had been caused through the interference of Dark Wizards in order to pull off a plot to attack the World Cup. But he could not say that last bit without any proof, which he lacked entirely, and so kept his words limited to polite pleasantries.
"Yeah. We knew the French liked to play dirty, but we never expected something like that to happen." The next man in line to shake Harry's hand, the whip thin Brian Miller, was visibly down in the dumps as he spoke. "And it came at the worst possible time too. Our backup Seeker, Drupp Barding Bidgewell Claxton the third, is down with a case of Dragon Pox. He's supposed to pull through but is out for the rest of the tournament. If that damn Hardwin can't play in tomorrow's game, I don't know who the hell we'll ever get to play the position in time."
"Och! Don't ye worry now m'ah friend. Somethin' will turn up eventually or m'ah name ain't being Alistaire MacLeod." The third man to shake Harry's hand, one of the team's big beaters, spoke in a cheerful Scottish brogue. "Why, ye should hear tell o' some o' the things that happened in m'ah family years back. Compared to dem, why, this little hiccup ain't even a wee bit o' trouble. No little Frenchman's bat will keep us'n from winning this tournament, or ah'll eat m'ah last pair o' pants!"
The rest of the team shook Harry's hand in turn – or, in the case of Annabelle, kissed him on both sides of the face while hugging him tightly – as they began to argue amongst themselves as to what they could do to turn their fortunes around.
Some advocated for holding try-outs to find a new Seeker. Others held out hope that Hardwin, the team's injured Seeker, would make a turnaround and be healthy in time for the game.
Sensing his chance, Harry caught Ludo's eye and gave him the pre-arranged signal. The man caught it right away and hurried to insert himself into the conversation.
"Now, now, ladies and gents. I understand this is a tough time for the team. It's only normal to feel worried when you're down at a major position," Ludo said in his chipper tone. The man placed an affable arm around the shoulders of one of the Chasers, a tiny little slip of a woman named Genevieve, as he spoke. "But if I may be so bold to say, I think that the solution to your problem is right in front of you."
Bronwen's face hardened as the team captain visibly readied herself for a confrontation. "With all due respect, Mr. Bagman –"
"Call me Ludo, please. All my friends can call me that."
"As I was saying. Mr. Bagman," Bronwen continued, "I thank you for your advice, and for bringing Mr. Potter to come greet us today, but I would respectfully ask that you leave team matters to those who are still on the team. I would prefer to avoid any untoward rumours regarding any intervention that you or the Department of Magical Sports and Games might take on our behalf."
"Ha! I completely understand, my dear. I would never do such a thing; it would go against the very meaning of fair play and good sportsmanship."
Ludo's response seemed to confuse the tough woman. The man's good cheer and his immediate refutation of her implication had clearly thrown her off. Harry saw Bronwen's brow tighten and her eyes narrow as she tried to pin Ludo with a glare. "Then what are you suggesting, Mr. Bagman?"
"Why, only what would seem to be a most logical course of action, as I hinted at in my initial speech." Ludo gestured emphatically with his free arm as he spoke. "The team needs a Seeker. One who can keep them in the game or maybe even win it for them outright. But because of the limited time you possess to find a replacement, you're unsure if you can do it before the next match. Right?"
Bronwen slowly nodded in her head. "Correct. But as I said, that's a team matter, and I don't see what it has to do with you or anyone else here."
"Then you, my dear, need to pay more attention to school level games like I do," Ludo said with a wink. He then gestured dramatically and pointed at Harry. "Because if you are looking for a great Seeker on short notice, then look no further! Harry Potter is here, and the boy is as dab a hand at this great sport as any other I've ever seen."
Bronwen snorted. "Fat chance, sir. Oh, it's not that I'm doubting the boy's talent; I'm sure it's high if you're recommending him so strongly. But unless he's on the level of Viktor Krum, then there's no way the boy is ready to play at the professional level. Not with how watered down the rules are at the school level these days."
Undaunted, Ludo continued to press Harry's case. "I have it on good authority the boy has some experience playing with the professional rules. And while I wouldn't quite call him Krum's equal, not yet at least, I'll stake my reputation on Harry having an even greater natural talent. You can test him to make sure, but it'll only confirm what I've just told you."
The woman turned a critical gaze towards Harry and then looked back at Ludo. "What about the rules regarding underage competitors? Does he meet the requirements?"
Ludo nodded. "Since he's an officially registered member of a school level team, and possesses at least three years of experience, Harry meets the I.C.W.'s regulations on the subject. I had my staff confirm everything last night and as long as I can convince his legal guardian to give the okay – which, considering that Sirius and I go back quite a ways, should be quite easy – then everything will be on the up and up."
"And what about a broom? We don't have the time to train him on the subtleties of how to fly a Firebolt."
"Also not an issue. The boy has been flying on a Firebolt for nearly a year and has used it in actual games. Including one in that truly nasty storm which nearly derailed the Chudley Cannon's game against Ilkley last year."
"Hm… yes, I recall that storm. And if he could fly a Firebolt in those conditions…"
Harry held his breath as he watched Bronwen's eyes turn thoughtful.
This was it. The moment of truth had arrived. Desperate and in need of a solution that could salvage their bid to win the Cup, the captain was finally beginning to consider Ludo's proposal.
After several long seconds of thought, the captain summoned in the rest of the team for a huddle, casting some sort of Charm as she did which made it so Harry could not hear their voices. He felt his chest begin to ache as he tried to will the woman to accept him.
Eventually, Bronwen cancelled the silencing charm and left the huddle. She looked at Ludo and gave him a firm nod. "Alright. The team and I agree, Mr. Bagman. It couldn't hurt to give the lad a try. Can I count on you to prep him while we get things setup for the test?"
Ludo thumped his chest with a closed fist. "Absolutely! I wouldn't have come up with this idea if I didn't think the boy was ready. Give us a few ticks to Apparate back to his home so I can convince his guardians while Harry grabs his gear. After which the boy will pass your test with flying colours. I guarantee it!"
The bombastic man then turned to Harry and hurriedly motioned for the boy to join him. The two walked over to Andromeda, who placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze.
A sudden crack burst into Harry's ears, followed by a feeling like that of toothpaste being squeezed through too small a hole, and the next thing Harry knew he was standing at the front door to the Cottage.
He stumbled forward, his head discombobulated and his body feeling tingly, before Andromeda caught him. Harry shot the beautiful woman a grateful glance as he regained his balance.
Magical travel sure was handy in terms of time saved. But gosh did it suck.
A loud series of cracks from beside them heralded the appearance of Ludo and Andromeda's assistant. The man dusted his robes off with a flourish as a look of unadulterated glee filled his features.
"Well, that went even better than we planned, didn't it my boy?" Ludo said with a chortle. "Bronwen might be a fine team captain, one of the best to play the game, but she knows nothing about how to win the hearts and minds of others. She bought our little performance and seemed nary the wiser it was all an act. I must say it has been an absolute pleasure working with you on this; I'm so excited I almost feel like I'm back in the game myself!"
Harry shot the man a wry grin as he opened the Cottage's main door. "Thank you, Mr. Bagman. I appreciate your kind words."
"Ah, it's Ludo to you, Harry, Ludo! As I told Bronwen, I like for all my friends to call me that. And I do hope that after my assistance in this matter, and in the matter of your upcoming duel against Lucius' son, you consider me a dear friend just as your godfather does."
"Of course he does, Mr. Bagman," Andromeda's assistant filled in smoothly from the rear as both her boss and Harry rolled her eyes. "But while the Chairwoman takes him into the Cottage to gather his belongings, you and I have business to discuss."
"Ah, yes. A matter of the upcoming publicity campaign, no? I have a veritable bevy of ideas on that front which I can't wait to see done!"
As Ludo and the assistant fell into talking, Harry went through the Cottage's main door. He then ran up the stairs and breezed into his room, whereupon he made a beeline to the maintenance table that held his broom. Its ebony handle gleamed after the recent polish Harry had given it, and just seeing it calmed Harry down. He had worked on the broom the night before to make sure the it was in top condition, with not a single twig out of place.
He made sure to grab it and bring along the practice gear Sirius had purchased for him as well. He would much preferred to have just stored the items in his 'Inventory', but their disappearance would have required an explanation which Harry was not yet ready to provide, so he just lugged the heavy baggage like normal.
When Harry made his way back down, Andromeda once again grabbed his shoulders and used side-along Apparition to transport them. Ludo soon joined them, though it took a little longer for Andromeda's assistant to follow. And there Harry proceeded to stay for the next several hours.
For after passing Bronwen's gruelling test and getting congratulated by the rest of the team, the jubilant captain had decided to put everyone through the wringer to test the limits of their collective endurance.
It was long after nightfall that Harry was able to stumble to his room, pen some short letters to Hermione and a few of his other friends like Ginny and Ron, before then crawling into the sweet embrace of his comfortable bed. Where his dreams were filled with the face of Cho and many other girls, each of whom proceeded to kiss him as Harry hoisted high the Quidditch World Cup.
A/N: That's all for now, folks. Due to the heavy interest in seeing the Dora vs Fleur scene I strongly considered putting it into this chapter, but in the end I just could not swing it. I hope that Fleur's after-action report will suffice for the time being.
But fear not, for it shall be posted as part of the outrigger fic I'll be putting up once Level 1 is complete.
Until Next Time,
Elsil