In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 111: Easter
Ron woke up Saturday morning. Harry's teeth muttered, while Gia's fingers worked the ear lobe. Ron crawled out, went across to the lavatory, and washed his face. A glance to the mirror, the blue eyes that'd seen more than you'd expect, the red hair, and he knew himself to be a Weasley.
"Good morning," Hermione said as she went behind Ron, and sat.
Ron went down the steps, the hard right, into the living room, to the kitchen area. Ron took out the frying pan, started the bacon.
"Uh–oh," Hermione muttered as she carried The Daily Prophet to the dining table. "Harry's not going to like this."
"It's The Daily Prophet, so of course he won't like it," Ron said.
"Not like what?" Harry asked as he came across.
"Somebody took notes during the hunt," Hermione said, "It's a full description of Padfoot, and the fact that Sirius Black is an animagus."
Green to Harry's ears.
"Hermione," Ron barked.
Ron took the steps to Harry, held him tight, while Hermione tended to the bacon.
"I trust Sirius here," Ron said, "He's spent three years on the run, he'll stay on the move, he's not going to cower in hiding on Dumbledore's orders."
"True," Harry said.
Ron let loose. A glare. Ron held Harry's chin.
"I still accept the consequences," Ron stated.
Harry went to the table. Ron returned to the kitchen area, took the spatula from Hermione. She returned to the table as Gia crossed the living room.
…
Harry turned to Gia.
"Means Sirius can't guard you anymore," Harry said, "Everybody and anybody will know who it is."
"People know who you are," Gia said, "I didn't see that headmaster go after you."
"No." Harry felt uneasy, unsure why. "How much of your class is left?"
"Weeks," Hermione said, "Why?"
"Dunno," Harry lied.
Ron carried the dishes over. Harry grabbed plate, helped himself to bacon, some eggs, the bread, and some beans. Harry knew the eyes on him watched, let the peer pressure work, took his pills, and ate the bacon first.
"Practice again?" Hermione asked.
"Yep," Ron said.
Harry finished his plate, drank the juice, leaned back, and waited for Ron to finish his second one.
"Need to—later." Ron kissed Hermione, stood.
Harry stood. A glance to the blue eyes. Harry reached, held Ron's hand. The focus, the determination, the tightness of the pull, and they apparated into the coach's office. A murmur outside. Harry opened the door, the sea of red hair.
"Ron!" came the shout of Mr. Weasley.
Ron went, hugged the man. Others in the room, from both teams, like Fred and George, Euan Abercrombie.
"If I wanted to risk my neck," said Josh Brenner, in canary yellow sweats the same as Justin and Paul Prewett, "I'd have stayed at Hogwarts, it's safer there."
"He's not going to risk the Quidditch Cup," Ginny said, "It's safe here."
"Likely said the same to MacDonald," Brenner snapped.
"Harry," came Colin's question, "How'd you score this place for practice?"
"We asked the coach," Fred said.
"Warmup," Ron said, "Be on the pitch in ten minutes."
Ron's eyes turned to Harry, while most of them went out.
"Thought I'd come and watch," said Mr. Weasley to Ron.
Harry went down the stairs, down the corridor, and into the examination room. Notley was there. A motion of the hand, Notley pointed to the scale, and Harry stepped up on it.
"Lost an ounce," Notley said.
Harry frowned.
"Bladders can hold a pound or more," Notley said, "So don't fret."
"I ate," Harry said.
Notley's wand to Harry's belly.
"Remember yesterday?" Notley said, "You were falling when I first saw you. We've gotten you the broom, and we're all cheering you on to pull up. I'm hoping we got it to you in time because—"
"Splat," Harry said.
"In my judgment," Notley said, "You're pulling up, and that's what matters.
"Thank you," Harry said.
Harry opened the door, and into the open box to the pitch with the broom closet already open. Harry grabbed a Firebolt, carried it into the middle of the pitch, where the team stood, along with those from Puddlemere United.
"We start with a match against the professionals," Ron said, "Go from there."
"Interesting," Hermione said as she walked over to the table Sunday Morning.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
The Daily Prophet
Easter Sunday 30 March 1997
Puddlemere United Terminates Seeker
In a shocking announcement, Puddlemere United has terminated their Seeker, Silvester Shadwell for undisclosed reasons. Whether they elect to promote Reserve Seeker Amy Greystok, or hire in directly into the vacant position, remains to be seen. As to how fill the vacancy, Coach Darrell Meyers had limited information.
"While we are currently in negotiations with the Appleby Arrows for a short–term solution, we will be exploring the draft from Kent Quidditch Academy."
"Shadwell punched a fan," Ron said, "Whitehorn wasn't having that."
"Took my suggestion," Harry said as he walked across.
It was already late Sunday afternoon, when Harry heard it. Ron, Hermione, and Gia already around the dining table, the food of an early Easter Sunday meal on it. Harry's stomach full, while Ron was still helping himself.
"Psst—Ron!"
Eyes that glanced around.
"Psst—RON!"
Harry stared at the blue eyes beneath the red hair.
"Percy?" Harry inquired.
Ron stood fast, took the fast walk. Harry followed Ron to the far corner of the living room. Ron opened his holster, pulled out the stone coin. From it's center dip, a green ghostly image of Percy's head rose.
"I'd apparate directly except there's a disapparation jinx on my flat," Percy said, "Took much effort, but I got the final clue last night, and it solved the puzzle. You're absolutely innocent. See, it's bloody brilliant, covering each other's arses, couldn't believe it's…"
Percy's head choked as hands wrapped themselves about the throat.
"PERCY!" Ron shouted.
Percy's head gasped for breath as it fell, vanished.
"Ha—" Ron started.
Harry grabbed Ron's hand, disapparated. A tight twist, the one trying to break him apart, Harry forced it, and they apparated into the living room of Percy's flat. Papers strewn about, the mess across the floor next to the sofa, Harry's wand to his hand, while Ron's wand went to the fireplace.
"Point me Percy Weasley," Harry said.
Harry's wand laid idle in his hand.
"Point me Ronald Weasley," Harry said.
Harry's wand moved, pointed to Ron.
"Point me Percy Weasley," Harry said.
Again, Harry's wand laid idle.
"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed.
Harry closed his eyes, focused on the red haired Percy. A moment of contorsion, Harry remained there in the flat.
"Something stronger," Ron said as he went to the bedroom.
Harry turned to the table strewn with parchment including invoices and reports. Harry began stuffing them all into Percy's black courier bag. Ron returned with a small cauldron, ingredients, set them on the table, at the same time Harry felt a tingle to the hair on his back. Harry grabbed Ron, apparated to the nearby kitchen area.
"Blimey!" Ron stammered.
A curser sphere on the coffee table unleashed a curse to where they had been, smoke billowed in from the lavatory.
"Hurry," Harry said.
Ron ran for the fireplace, grabbed the stone coin from the mantle, and handed it to Harry. Ron helped in clearing off the table into the courier bag, as Harry stashed the coin into his holster. Both coughed repeatedly as the smoke thickened, blue sparks that began to feel ahead crawling on the carpet, hot flames that followed.
"My Dad," Ron said as Harry held on.
A fast focus, the urgency, and it felt like apparating through a blender as Harry forced them to stay together. Ron's cheek bled as they apparated into the living room of Fred and George. Smells of roast beef filled the room. Arthur coughed, as he tried to read on the armchair near the fireplace.
"Dad!" Ron exclaimed.
Eyes of blue that glanced up at the pair of them, Arthur covered his mouth as coughed again.
"You missed—" Arthur started.
"Percy's been kidnapped!" Ron snapped.
"Minutes ago," Harry said, "He…figured it out."
Harry explained the conversation, the fire.
"He knew?" Arthur asked.
"Hands stopped him," Harry said, "Locator charms now fail."
Harry went to the dining table, the charm that cleared the leftovers off. Harry began to pull out the parchment from the bag.
"I was having dinner," Fred exclaimed, the fingers filthy over where his plate had been, the blue eyes that glared.
"Percy's in trouble!" Ron said, "You think—"
"Percy had it," Harry said, "Had to of…we need Hermione."
"You run a business," Ron said to Fred.
Fred started through it.
"Paid his laundry," Fred said, one slip of paper in his hands, "Definitely washing out the truth."
"It's serious," Ron said, "Percy was silenced over this."
"Not like we had time to sort it," Harry said.
A tap of the cane, Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace.
"Good evening," Dumbledore said.
Eyes to Harry's bottle greens.
"Percy figured out our troublemakers," Harry said, "Was one word away when he was nabbed. Should've stayed with him."
"I'll contact the Ministry," Dumbledore said, "Percy's an employee, so they'll take interest to look."
Dumbledore returned to the fireplace.
"Ministry looks after their own," Arthur said.
"Except Percy figured out who's the troublemaker," Harry said, "Or at least close enough—and it's full of reformed Death Eaters!"
Harry's hands to the back of his head as he paced, he glanced at the clock that was up on the wall; like the one at the old Burrow, hands for the entire family, not only Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ginny, Edward, but also Hermione, Gia and himself.
"You're family—close enough," Arthur said, "Still need a few—like Percy's."
"How'd you get mine?" Ron asked.
"Easy," Ginny said as she came down the stairs, "Think—practice!"
"Proving you can't be trusted," Ron snapped.
"What's with this enclave?" asked George as he came down the steps.
Harry went over to the table, George next to him. Ron turned back around.
"Without a lead…" Harry pointed, "Buried somewhere in there—I think."
"I'm useless," Ron said.
"You did the most important thing," Dumbledore said, "Alerting us to the kidnapping."
"Most important thing would've been to have apparated instead of firechatting," Ron said.
"We'll be assisting," Dumbledore said.
Dumbledore disapparated, so did Arthur.
"Anyone wondering how much our brother spent on groceries," Fred said, "Feel free."
"Whose groceries?" Ginny asked.
"Percy's been kidnapped," Harry said.
"Ten galleons on lunch?" George asked.
"You know, the Minister and all," Fred mocked in an imitation of Percy.
"Can it," Harry said, "Somewhere in that pile is the answer to who's framing me and Ron. It'd solve a lot of troubles to have heads to hang for The Daily Prophet."
"Who ever thought the rules could be so useful?" George muttered.
"Likely had the time of his life," Fred said.
A tinge to the scar.
Red haired, lifeless, Percy's body laid dormant as the ice and frozen fish piled on top of his remains.
"Shame," the voice said, "Tough to find competence at the Ministry, a runt too good at his job."
"One less to help the boy who shouldn't have lived," said Voldemort.
"He already did," Harry said.
"Harry?" Ron asked.
"Time for us to leave," Harry said.
Ron stood.
"How will you ever live without knowing the price of a new pinstripe suit," Fred said.
"I'll manage," Ron said.
Ron's blue eyes that focused on Harry, they went to the door.
"Back to the girls," Harry said.
Harry grabbed Ron's hand, the focus, the disapparation.
"You bloody know," Ron said as they apparated.
"Yes, I do," Harry said, "Voldemort made sure I saw it."
Harry's arms around Ron, the embrace that held tight. Ron pushed back.
"He faced battle," Ron said, "It's more than you."
"He's your brother," Harry said.
"Bloodless conflicts are rare," Ron said, "Better believe I'll stand with you as we make them pay."
Hermione grabbed The Daily Prophet as she sat at the dining table Monday morning, read into it, the bounties that came first.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Problem Solver
Face it Wizarding World, it's time to vote with your purse, express your dissatisfaction with the vileness that has crept back into our lives. You thought the Boy Who Lived was your salvation, you wish that were true but know it's not. We need to banish this blemish and disease from our lives, to return to the wonderful world of magic we all know and love.
Eximo Macula is proud to help administer these rewards for removal of known threats to the wizarding community.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Shouldn't Have Lived. 702K galleons.
Ronald Weasley, Kiss Up King. 563K galleons.
Hermione Granger, Wannabe Dark Queen. 377K galleons.
Gia Prescott, Muggle Cock Holster aka Potter's pet. 258K galleons.
Rita Skeeter, Quill Slaughterer. 2.6k galleons.
Bonus of 10,000 galleons per relation or friendship severed.
Removal of these problems would be greatly appreciated. All wagers and contributions can be sent to "Bye Bye". To claim a reward, submit relevant documentation.
"That's…?" Gia asked.
"Guessing they liked the bats?" Harry asked.
"Almost two million galleons," Hermione said, "Or ten million pounds Stirling."
Later at Puddlemere United, Harry held the Nimbus 1000 in his hand as he came out of the box to the edge of the pitch.
"Um…." Ron muttered.
In front of them, the nets were deployed at shoulder height across the grass, vertical nets covered the walls, and each goal along with its post was padded.
"Interesting," Harry muttered.
Coach Kline turned to them, large strips of padded hide in his hands.
"Blindfolds," Coach Kline said as he handed one each.
"What?" Harry stammered, "Why?"
"Teaching you to fly blind," Coach Kline said.
"Fred and George may be right," Ron whispered to Harry.
"Focused on the snitch or a distraction," Coach Kline said, "Maybe it's night, or you're cursed blind. Still, best to learn to use your other senses to fly."
Harry mounted the broom between the legs, put the padded strip over his eyes, the darkness that came to him.
"Can't be serious," Ron said.
"We need to learn this," Harry said.
Harry flew up, for a moment, stopped.
Hermione woke up last on the bed. It was Tuesday, April the First.
Meow
Crookshanks brushed up against her, as he rolled onto his back; she petted and stroked him. His furry tail that swayed against her and she relaxed a bit.
"I need to keep the boys out of trouble," Hermione said.
A focus of will, she got up, spun her knees.
Meow
Hermione's knees straddled the feline's head. She leaned over, worked Crookshanks' soft belly, whiskers between her thighs, the tail that swayed back and forth. She tickled beneath the chin, the purrs.
"Ouch!" came the exclaim.
Hermione got off the bed, went into the Room of Requirement, where Harry held his big toe of his left foot, while balanced on his right up on a long horizontal bar. Between two vertical poles, this horizontal bar was six feet over the line of tables with mines and the devices on it, putting Harry nine feet up.
"What are you up to?" Hermione asked.
"Practicing," Harry said.
Harry's legs that twitched as he put the right foot back down, his arms outstretched as he walked along this bar.
"Not exactly the best idea," Hermione said.
"Incentive," Harry said.
Harry turned around, foot after foot as Harry returned.
"Careful," Harry said, "One of those is fully live."
"You didn't deactivate it?" Hermione asked.
"Nope," Harry said.
"Suppose we couldn't make this any safer," Hermione said, "Add angry dragons?"
Harry snorted, returned to the close vertical bar. His fingers wrapped the bar, the weight into his digits, and he came down it.
"Now…" Harry aimed his wand, the bar curved to the left, "Try again."
Harry jumped, the fingers that held, his feet to the vertical bar, he climbed back up, returned to the horizontal bar, and began to walk.
"Think I'll avoid witnessing the inevitable mess," Hermione said.
Hermione turned, went down the stairs. Ron worked in the kitchen. Gia read The Daily Telegraph at the dining table.
"Um…" Hermione said, "Should we encourage Harry to take up running across town again?"
"You noticed?" Ron asked.
"Think he stubbed his toe," Hermione said.
Ron sighed, kicked the cabinet. Gia raised a sheet of parchment, and Hermione read it.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Ronald Weasley
Percy failed to show up for work for the second day in a row; this is highly unusual in light of his otherwise better than perfect attendance. He has listed yourself as his designated contact in case of emergencies. I am wondering if there are circumstances that I should be aware of, otherwise, please perform a welfare check for him.
David Xavier
"Oh," Hermione said, "Sorry."
"Go there and it's a burned out flat," Ron said, "Nothing's really left."
Ron sighed.
"I know what Harry saw," Ron said, "Still, that letter…"
Hermione walked as Ron turned around; the sizzling from the frying pan. Gia came over, took over the cooking as Hermione put her hands to Ron's chest.
"It's family," Hermione said.
Hermione moved her hands downward as they stepped closer, she leaned into him. She kissed him, and Ron returned it, the tongues that touched, his hands that held around her.
"Guess I'll ask Dad if there's been any news," Ron said.
"Today?" Hermione asked.
"It's April first," Ron said, "Means only one thing, a pair of birthdays, along with a party to match."
Hermione leaned into Ron, the warmth of his skin on her, the assurance they gave each other. A grin, one she returned, and they went over to the table. Harry finished popping his pills and ate. Ron went into his. Hermione went for the oatmeal, added cinnamon and apple bits, ate into it.
"It'll be interesting to see the stadium," Gia said.
"That's later," Ron said, "Harry'll come back for both of you."
Hermione finished her bowl, went up the stairs, into the Room of Requirement. She opened Stupefy! Stunnington's Auror Handbook and went to wards, and added water to the cauldron. Gia entered a few minutes later.
"And they're off," Gia said, as she took over the spoon and stirred.
"Good," Hermione said, "Harry wouldn't approve of a more proactive defense."
Hermione squirted in the white glue, added until the mixture was thick. She ladled it out, into the trays, pressed them into spheres.
"You're worried?" Gia asked.
"A bit," Hermione said, "Can't pin it down."
Hermione hoped her hunch was wrong, still, Harry and Ron were off to practice.
Harry held Ron, disapparated, apparated into the locker room. Door open, Harry went into the examination room, stepped onto the scale, and waited. Ron shrugged. A distant flush, Notley entered the examination room.
"I appreciate this," Notley said. Wand to the stomach, replaced by the pen to his fingers, and the writing down into the manila folder.
Harry spotted the guarded optimism behind those eyes.
"Feels like you two are the most persistent snoops," Notley said.
"We've learned," Ron said.
"Well?" Harry asked.
"Focus on eating and getting better," Notley said, "Which I think you're doing. So, I'll stay mum on the details, and let you practice."
Harry unsure.
"Don't press it," Ron said to Harry.
Harry stepped off, went with Ron, the left to the box. Harry grabbed the Nimbus 1000.
"Gentlemen," said Coach Gerber, "Sorry if we forgot to mention…one at a time right now."
Harry and Ron studied the man in white shirt, blue shorts, the whistle around his neck.
"You may watch from the box seats," Coach Gerber said to Ron, "We'll start with Potter, an hour or two."
"Oh," Harry said, "I'll be fine."
"Sure," Ron said.
Harry walked onto the pitch, the sunshine to his skin.
"First," Harry said, "Want to see if I can do this."
Harry gripped the handle tip of the broom, held it vertical, and jumped to put his toes to the root like a dance pole. It flew upward, straight up, the grass drifted away. Up and up, until he came to the roof, and realized the distance below him. Harry pulled his feet, dropped, and dragged the broom down with him. A roll to dive forward, he mounted, and flew back to land his feet on the grass.
"I'll get more down," Harry promised as he took the blindfold.
Harry put the blindfold over his eyes, felt it secure itself to the back of his head.
"So Ron—" Harry started.
"Doesn't need to listen for this," said Coach Gerber.
Harry unsure if he heard anything aside from breathing.
"Listen for it," Coach Gerber said, "Train your ears for when it eludes your eyes, that's why you're flying separately, to avoid the distraction."
A buzzing to the hear, the flap of the wings next to his ear.
"Turn to point," Coach Gerber said, "You know what you're listening for, right?"
"The snitch," Harry said.
Harry turned as the Coach moved, unsure if it was the buzzing or the broom.
"Up," Coach Gerber suggested.
Harry floated up on the broom. Quiet, before he understood, the entire stadium, walls, the ceiling, the grass had been silenced. He began to hear his heart beating in the eerie quiet. Took a bit longer before he drifted, the buzz that began to increase, and he flew.
…
Ron understood the tactical advantage the coaches were trying to breed in them, as he watched Harry move within the stadium.
"We're building up your talents now," Coach Kline said, "Otherwise, you'd get the old–style ones entrenched at camp."
"It's useful in more ways than one," Ron said.
"You're next with the Quaffle," Coach Kline said.
…
After practice with the Quaffle, Ron and Harry were racing together against the Bludgers, still blindfolded.
Crack! Crack!
Still blindfolded, Ron heard the lot of them, the Bludgers that soared toward him. Ron's heart raced, he rolled and dropped as they flew past him.
"Try again," came the familiar voice.
Crack!
Ron dove to the left, heard the pair miss again, mounted his broom, and pulled up.
"FRED! GEORGE!" came the familiar holler, "WHY'D YOU BLINDFOLD YOUR BROTHER?!"
Ron's feet hit the grass, he pulled off his blindfold, and Mr. Arthur Weasley stood there on the pitch. Sunshine onto them both, smells of grilling hamburger wafted down.
"Dad!" Ron exclaimed, gave the tight hug to the man in the sports leisure suit.
"It's not safe to blindfold and fly!" Arthur exclaimed.
"It wasn't us," said Fred as he flew down.
"We played along," George said, coming down.
Harry rolled, came down. Ginny's red hair as she came from the locker room. Harry stored the Nimbus 1000, along with the blindfold, disapparated.
"Cool!" said Bill Weasley as he walked out of the locker room onto the pitch, the red dragon hide leather jacket, the trousers, "You rented this out?"
Fred and George went over to Bill.
"Any word on Percy?" Ron asked Arthur.
"No, none," Arthur said.
"His boss wrote," Ron said, "No show."
"There's hope until there's a body," Arthur said.
Ron stayed quiet on what Harry told. His stomach growled.
"Upstairs," Ron said.
Ron walked into the box, stashed the Nimbus 1000, the blindfold, and walked with his old man. Arthur went over to the lockers.
"See what Ginny made a fuss over," Arthur said.
Ron pulled Arthur into the examination room, closed the door. Eyes that watched Ron.
"If you love Harry, if you support Harry," Ron said, "Use the official line. As a favor to Dumbledore, the coaches are providing me and Harry some time on the pitch as we're unable to practice at Hogwarts, for obvious reasons."
"You mean there's more going on," Arthur said.
"Yes," Ron said, "But only remember the official line, please. So yes, I was practicing blindfolded, so was Harry."
"I need to talk to the coaches about safety," Arthur said.
"There's a half million galleons out on my head," Ron said, "Going outside isn't safe, flying blind is."
Ron opened the door, paused.
"Practicing here is really helping Harry," Ron said, "Don't spoil it."
Ron led the way, out the corridor, up the stairs, through the club room, into the clubhouse. Red hair common, as Charlie was there too. Harry was at the food counter, with Gia, picking up cheeseburgers and chips. Brown hair, was there as Dennis and Colin were at the dart board.
"No," Hermione said as she stepped next to Ron, "I did not intend to miss this."
Ron went over to the counter, helped himself to several cheeseburgers and a plate of chips. He went to the large table, one that Fred and George were already at, Bill setting his plate down.
"Please wait for a couple of minutes," said Arthur.
Dennis went first to the counter, Colin followed, both brought over trays. Dennis sat next to Harry. Colin sat next to Ginny. Ron noticed the two chairs at the end of the tables, both tied off, with pointed birthday hats on them.
"It's…I don't think it's a year I wish to repeat," Arthur said, "Still, I know your mother's gracing us today. Happy Birthday boys."
Applause.
"Well," Fred said, "Don't let us keep you."
Snickers. The cheeseburgers that lifted to their mouths. Ron poured on the vinegar to his chips as he ate the cheeseburger. More people entered.
"Started without us?" asked Amy Greystok.
"Invite said noon," said Oliver Wood.
Katie Bell entered. Table expanded as more of the Puddlemere United players showed up.
"That's Percy's," Charlie snapped as Luke Sedgwick went for one with the arms tied off, "Missing brother."
"Aw," Luke said, "My apologies."
…
Harry began to understand. Despite Percy being a prick, in his absence, the Weasley family united to defend him, the bonds of love remained in the ashes. Harry hoped his vision had been wrong, but rarely were, as Voldemort seemed to relish in showing the worst with no fabrication required.
"You're practicing with them?" asked Dennis to Harry.
"He's trying to eat," Gia scolded.
Harry worked the cheeseburger between his teeth.
"Think flying blind's a great idea?" Dennis asked.
"Mind?" Harry asked.
"Oh, yeah, sorry," Dennis said.
Harry felt Gia's hand as he ate the cheeseburger. A glance to Ron across the table.
"They can't complain we're talking with our mouths full," Ron thought.
Harry snorted. Hermione glanced between Harry and Ron.
"Busted," Harry thought.
"Harry needs to eat," Ron said to Hermione.
Harry worked halfway through the second cheeseburger, and dumped the brown sauce onto the chips. Strips of deep fried potato wedged into his mouth, and he chewed. Dennis used ketchup with his. Harry finished, stood, and jumped on top of the table.
"I see the people here," Harry said, "Mr. Weasley, of the old crowd, led by Albus Dumbledore. Everybody else…you trust yourself with me."
A bit of applause.
"And my foe is active," Harry said, "Wants you all to hand me over for slaughter, for an execution. Right now, Death Eaters have certainly motivated most of the wizarding population to do exactly that, people that do not care about those that get in the way."
Harry turned, the faces on this table, the audience he commanded, even the coaches nearby who watched.
"You see the wizard in front of you," Harry said, "The toddler my foe targeted because of a prophecy, one that foretold the demise of the Dark Lord, and he selected me. After my execution, he would be untouchable, for he'll have the Elixir of Life."
"That stone was destroyed," said Mr. Weasley.
"Voldemort will find another," Harry said, "Or already has…tough to tell. That's the stakes, everybody's demise while he rules over a dead world."
"It's supposed to be a birthday party," Fred said, "Ours."
"Sorry about that," Harry said, "Save the bad news for later."
"Bad news?" George asked.
Harry jumped off the table, sat.
"Stealing the spotlight?" Ron asked.
"Quidditch!" Ginny said.
Harry appreciated the diversion.
"Weasleys vs Puddlemere United!" Fred exclaimed.
"We'll count…Harry and Colin on team Weasley," George said.
"Harry's a seeker," Charlie said.
"And so he'll remain," Fred said, "You get to be a Chaser, unless you want to boot him to Puddlemere United and play off against him."
"We'd lose," George said to Charlie.
Harry went with the crowd, through the clubroom, down the stairs, through the locker room, into the box. Harry reached for a Nimbus 1000 and a blindfold.
"We're blindfolding ourselves?" asked Charlie.
"Should go for the Firebolt," Amy said, "Everybody else will be on it."
Harry moved to the Firebolt, left the blindfold behind.
"Next match I'll fly against you?" Harry asked Charlie.
"I'd like that," Charlie said.
Sunshine to his skin, Harry went out onto the pitch.
"Alright," said Oliver Wood, the wand to his mouth, the amplified voice, "Team Weasley vs Puddlemere United!."
Harry mounted the Firebolt. He recognized the others, Luke Sedgwick as the Keeper. Stanly Emsworth, Andrew Hasler, and Katie as Chasers. Kristi hovered, bat to her hand. Blond haired, the shirt of a union jack, Lester Frogmore was the other Beater.
"We'll see," Amy promised Harry.
Harry rose up into the air, with the other Weasleys and Colin. Fred and George had more bats in their hands.
"And…keep it fair," Wood said.
Wood leaned over, released the Snitch, the Bludgers, and threw the Quaffle up. Colin flew in with Ginny and Charlie after the Quaffle, however, Emsworth was first, flying it toward the goal. Ron dove and caught it; he threw the Quaffle to Ginny. Harry closed his eyes, began to listen.
…
Gia held up the Omnioculars, her elbows to the railing in the premium box seats, watched Harry on the broom, as he drifted, the eyes closed.
"Is Harry sleeping?" Gia said, "Know he usually waits on the Snitch."
"It'd be a short game to go immediately after the Snitch," Mr. Weasley said.
"It's safe," said Bill, "The other's watching Harry."
"Ron's not flying safe," Hermione said.
Gia turned to Ron at the goal, the dives, the drops, the rolls.
"Amateurs vs professionals," Mr. Weasley said.
"Versus idiots," said Bill.
Gia spotted it, Harry standing on the broom handle, as he flew it along.
"What type of training have they been getting?" asked Mr. Weasley.
Harry's right hand to the broom handle, the foot to the bristles, his left outstretched as the broom flew vertically upward.
"Merlin's beard," Mr. Weasley said.
"Been here a lot," Hermione said.
A shriek, as Harry dove from the broom, the Firebolt that vanished, down in front of Katie blocking her to the Quaffle, a curl over to grab the Firebolt, and leveled off. Colin took the Quaffle, carried it.
"That's not safe," Bill said.
Harry flew after Colin, overtook as the Bludgers from Kristi and Lester converged on them. Harry turned and the Bludgers chased him. Another turn, he flew past Andrew toward Luke. A fast drop from Harry, one Bludger hit Luke, the other went through the goal a moment before Colin threw the Quaffle.
"Not exactly being a Seeker," Dennis Creevey said.
"Potter's extending the game," said Coach Adam Gerber, "He knows exactly where the Snitch is, doesn't feel it's in danger of being caught."
Hours began to pass as the game kept pressing.
"About time for dinner," Amy said to Harry.
Harry understood, glanced around, spotted the Bludgers. He flew for them, and the Bludgers began to follow him. A hard crank near Kristi and Lester, he flew back toward Ron, while the beaters hit off. A U–turn around the goal, Harry doubled back, flew directly at the Bludgers coming toward him. A roll, Harry reached between the two, and caught it, the gold into his fingers.
"You knew exactly where it was!" Amy said as Harry landed on the grass.
"It hid inside the Bludger hours ago," Harry said.
Harry about laughed at her glare, however, Ron and Fred came into the box.
"Buy that burial plot for me yet?" Ron asked.
"Know what those cost?" Fred asked.
"Take a shovel," Ron said, "Double wide, fit Harry in too."
A glare from Fred's eyes.
"You know, after we're executed," Ron said, "Be nice to keep us together."
"Things aren't going that bad," Fred said.
"Not yet," Ron said.
"Wish you'd stop talking about that," Mr. Weasley said.
"My execution?" Ron said, "Keeps me focused."
"We'd have won if you hadn't of waited!" Ginny snapped at Harry.
Charlie and Colin behind her, George that entered. Harry stepped sideways on the handle of the Firebolt, it lifted him a few inches.
"But you did win—it wasn't about the points," Harry said to Ginny, "Fred and George run a successful business, they don't need new brooms. With the loss of Percy, they wanted to bring you all together, to have a fun time playing. No, today, the Weasleys won where it matters."
"Thank you for that," said Mr. Weasley.
"Mr. Weasley," Harry said.
Harry motioned, the man in the sports suit followed into the examination room. Ron shut the door and stood there while Harry stepped up on the scale, the eyes matched up.
"There's more to my scar than this." Harry motioned to the lightning bolt pattern. "It's one big Voldemort detector." Harry studied the eyes, the same eyes that Ron picked up on the attempt to comprehend. "Now that Voldemort knows about it…I think he boasts more than lies. After we lost Percy, he showed me—I think Percy's already dead, we're searching for a body stuffed into a freezer."
"Oh my," Mr. Weasley said.
"Could be a fake," Ron said.
"I hope it was, but I doubt it," Harry said to Mr. Weasley, "I felt you should know that Percy fell in battle." Harry went to the door, held the knob. "Ever since I met you, you've been family, and it's nice knowing that I can count on a Weasley wand."
"Thank you," Mr. Weasley.
Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024