Chapter 1 - All Because of a Remembrall
"Follow me, Mr. Potter."
Harry Potter was not above pleading. "Malfoy had Neville's Remembrall," he gasped out. Professor McGonagall was surprisingly spry, and Harry struggled to keep up with her long strides. "He was going to steal it. Or break it. I couldn't let him do that to Neville." He couldn't see McGonagall's expression from behind her, and she didn't speak. Harry lamented his poor luck and kicked himself for getting himself expelled because he lost his temper.
"Professor Flitwick, may I borrow Wood for a moment?" McGonagall knocked and opened a door, and Harry heard the Charms professor agree. Harry wondered whether this 'Wood' was a paddle or cane the professors used to discipline the students. Harry wasn't ashamed to admit that he would much prefer getting caned over being sent back to the Dursleys. A tall, stocky older boy stepped out and nodded at McGonagall.
"Wood, I believe I've found you a new seeker." She told him, and his eyebrows raised as he noticed Harry standing behind her. Harry saw the professor's face for the first time since entering the castle, and he realised her eyes were wide with – was that excitement?
"Is that Harry Potter, professor?" Wood's eyes flit back and forth between Harry and McGonagall. She nodded.
"Of course, he will need to be taught the rules – he's muggle-raised. He won't know anything," McGonagall spoke, half to Wood and half to herself. "But he's very talented, Wood. I'm sure the team will benefit greatly from him. I will talk to Professor Dumbledore; I'm sure exceptions can be made. You should've seen the dive he pulled off just now. I saw it from my office, nearly a Wronski. His first time on a broom too."
Wood's eyebrows raised higher into his hairline. Harry too was confused. He got the feeling he wasn't going to be expelled. Or even punished, for that matter. He was also very unsettled, reconciling this enthusiastic version with his mental image of the normally reserved and prim professor.
"I expect you to take him out to the pitch sometime this week, and show him the ropes," the professor looked expectantly at Wood. He nodded slowly. Then she turned to Harry. Her face had returned to her usual, serious countenance, but there was a gleam in her eyes when she looked at him. "Potter, I expect your flying lessons will be over soon, and I daresay you don't need them to begin with. I will speak to Madam Hooch and ensure you are excused for missing class. I want you two to work hard to return the trophy to my office, Potter, Wood. It has been far too long since I've seen it there."
"Trophy? Professor, what –", Harry began but the professor waved him off.
"Wood will explain everything to you, Mr. Potter. I must take my leave." And with that, she turned the corner and left. A dazed Harry turned back to Wood. The older boy looked just as confused. Shaking his head, he looked at Harry and stuck out his hand.
"Oliver Wood, Potter. Nice to meet you," the two boys shook hands. "Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. I've got to get back to Charms right now, my O.W.L. year, you know? I'll come to find you in the common room after dinner, then we can talk."
Harry still had no idea what Quidditch was. He decided he would ask Ron at lunch.
Later that week, Harry found himself walking alongside Oliver Wood to the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The pitch was large and oblong. Stands lined the pitch's edge and were raised some fifteen feet in the air. At each end, three hoops jutted out of the ground at different heights. Harry stared in awe. All the stories Ron told him about Quidditch seemed so much more impressive now that he was seeing the sheer scale of the pitch. The sight of the pitch replaced his nerves with steadily building excitement.
"If you think this place is amazing now, wait till you see it when it's packed full of students," Wood grinned at Harry, noticing his awe. "Though I imagine you'll have the best seat in the house."
Wood dropped a heavy wooden box unceremoniously on the grass, and Harry's attention snapped to it. Wood unlatched the crate and threw it open. Inside were three balls that Harry recognized, from Ron's descriptions, as the Quaffle and the two Bludgers. Harry frowned, searching for the fourth ball, the one that Harry was told was his job to catch.
"Looking for this, Potter?" Wood asked, flipping a latch on the side of a metallic Hogwarts emblem. From within, Harry heard a fluttering sound as the Golden Snitch flapped its wings rapidly, trying to escape the ironclad grip with which Wood held it. Wood held the Snitch out to Harry as if to hand it to him. Before Harry could take it from him, Wood released it into the air. The Snitch shot up in the air instantly. Harry's hand reached out to catch it on pure reflex. He felt his fingertips brush its wings before it escaped his grasp. Harry held his hand suspended in the air but watched the Snitch with narrowed eyes. Predicting the path of the ball, which fluttered around him and Wood, Harry snapped forward, putting his hand right into the path of the Snitch. It turned impossibly fast, but Harry had already closed his hands around it.
Entranced by the Snitch, Harry had missed Wood grinning at him the whole time. There was a spark in the older boy's eye as he took the Snitch back from Harry. "Well, Potter. I think you're going to do perfectly fine as a Seeker."
Harry realised then that Wood had released the Snitch to test him. A test he had passed with flying colours if the look on Wood's face was any indication. Harry felt pride swell within him. He liked that he had finally found something he was good at, something his relatives couldn't take away from him.
Harry and Wood then proceeded to toss a couple of golf balls back and forth. Harry consistently made the catches, but Wood's throws were getting progressively more unpredictable, and Harry was having an increasingly difficult time catching them. Wood called the practice to an end when he threw two balls at once, and Harry, who had caught the first ball, didn't see the second one coming. The second ball hit Harry right in the face, and his glasses went flying.
Wood apologised profusely, but since he did it while doubled over in laughter, Harry had a difficult time believing his sincerity. The older boy summoned Harry's glasses off the grass and fixed the scratches and blemishes with a muttered incantation and a wave of his wand. Harry accepted the glasses gratefully and blinked as the world came back into focus.
"You going up to the Great Hall for dinner, Potter?" Wood asked as he heaved the box with the Quidditch balls and began walking toward the broom shed. Harry nodded. "Perfect, you can meet the rest of the team. We usually eat dinner together most days."
Harry swallowed nervously. "Are you sure, captain? I wouldn't want to be a bother."
"Nonsense, Potter. You're a part of the team now," Wood grinned back at Harry over his shoulder. "Also, quit calling me 'captain', the twins would never let me live it down. Call me Oliver."
"If you say so, Oliver," Harry said, a bit of awkwardness creeping into his voice. He felt a nervous sweat break down his neck as he imagined meeting the rest of the team for the first time. He wondered how they would react to him. He wondered if Oliver was to the team how Dudley was to his gang back in Little Whinging. Though, Oliver seemed a lot nicer than Dudley, so maybe the team would also be nice. Though he knew better than to let his guard down. Aunt Petunia also acted nice to him when they had guests, though she treated him with nothing short of derision otherwise.
Harry was so lost in thought that he didn't notice that not only had he and Oliver left the Quidditch pitch, but they had arrived at the doors to the Entrance Hall. Oliver pushed the door open, and Harry thanked him before shuffling in.
Harry and Oliver walked down the Gryffindor table. Harry spied Ron sitting with Seamus, looking miserable as Hermione lectured them about some inane topic. Ron spotted Harry and gave him a look that clearly said, Kill me now.
Harry grinned apologetically before walking a little faster past Hermione. He hoped she wouldn't notice him as he was afraid of the lecture he would receive for his stunt earlier that week. She still couldn't believe that Harry was getting rewarded for breaking the rules.
Oliver led Harry to a group of older students. Harry felt a wave of relief as he recognised the raucous laughter and twin shocks of red hair that could only belong to the Weasley Twins. Ron's twin older brothers were the first to notice them.
"Captain! And Harry!" George exclaimed. He was wearing a green sweater with a large 'F', for Fred, emblazoned on the front. From what Ron told him, George was more likely to be wearing Fred's sweater. "Has Woodie scared you off yet, Harrikins?"
"I don't think so, Freddie," said Fred, looking at his brother. Fred was wearing a blue sweater with an orange 'G' on it. "Don't worry, Harry, Wood isn't too bad of a captain when he's not talking about Quidditch," Fred shuddered dramatically. "Unfortunately, Wood is always talking about Quidditch."
Oliver rolled his eyes. "I presume you already know Fred and George since you're mates with their little brother. They're our beaters." Oliver sat between George and an unknown seventh-year, who didn't acknowledge the younger boy.
Harry looked at the assembled group nervously. They weren't staring at him per se, but they were looking at him expectantly. Harry only realised they were waiting for him to sit when a girl wearing a red-and-gold bandanna shifted and patted an open space between her and Fred. Harry grinned awkwardly at the girl as he took the offered seat. She looked amused.
"Alicia Spinnet," she waved airily. "I'm a chaser. Nice to meet you, Potter."
Harry waved back. His gaze scanned the rest of the team. A muscular, dark-skinned girl grinned at him across from Alicia.
"Angelina Johnson, also chaser," her mischievous expression told Harry that he was going to be the subject of a lot of teasing from her. Harry could handle that; Dudley and his friends had given Harry very thick skin over the years.
"Oliver told us McGonagall was singing your praises the other day," Angelina smirked, drawing the attention of the third girl, presumably the third chaser. "Apparently, you're a natural, and the right build for a seeker, scrawny little thing you are." Harry's face pinked.
"Angie, leave him alone. You're embarrassing him!" The third chaser was a smaller girl, with straw-coloured hair that hung just above her shoulders. Her hazel eyes glinted with amusement, even as she punched Angelina on the shoulder. "I'm Katie Bell, by the way. Second year. Ignore Angie, she'll take the mickey out of anything and everything that moves."
Harry smiled weakly. "Harry Potter, nice to meet you all." All three girls looked utterly unsurprised at the introduction, and Harry felt it was probably entirely unnecessary. However, Harry did notice, with brief frustration, that all three girls glanced at his scar. Harry guessed he should be thankful; a momentary glance was much more courteous than most people in the wizarding world had been so far.
Perhaps the girls had gotten bored of waiting for him to speak, for they returned to their conversations. Angelina and Alicia were arguing about something that Harry couldn't quite follow. Katie's attention turned back to her shepherd's pie, which she devoured with a vigour that would put Ron to shame, though her table manners far exceeded his. Occasionally, she would look up at the other chasers and comment before turning back to her plate.
Harry looked at the other side of their little group and saw the twins trying to convince Oliver to eat a sweet that Fred pulled out of his pocket. Harry instantly turned back to the girls, lest the twins choose him as their new victim.
"Harry, back me up here," Angelina looked at the boy, who had just turned back into the conversation and had no idea what was being talked about.
"Huh?" Harry blinked, and Alicia snorted.
"Do you think it would be easier to convince Snape to wash his hair, or Hagrid to shave his beard?" Alicia asked while adjusting her bandanna. Harry just stared, confused.
"I think you've broken him, 'Licia." Angelina snickered. Katie just watched the exchange with barely concealed amusement.
"I think Snape would kill me if I even spoke to him outside of class, I don't want to test my luck. So probably Hagrid." Harry nodded to himself. "Though I can't lie, I can't even imagine what Hagrid's chin looks like."
Harry shuddered at the thought, and he thought Angelina and Katie looked ill. Alicia roared with laughter.
Harry grinned sheepishly when Alicia gave him a high-five. Angelina grumbled, "Snape was obviously the correct answer." Harry could only shrug apologetically.
The rest of dinner passed similarly. Harry spent most of the time joking around with the girls, though he allowed himself to be drawn into conversation with Oliver and the twins as well. He learned that Alicia and Angelina were both third-years, like the twins. They were quite exuberant, while Katie seemed to be more reserved, at least when it came to him. Alicia's favourite class was Transfiguration, and Angelina said that Katie was a potions genius, which was denied by the blushing girl. Angelina and Oliver both wanted to play professional Quidditch, while the twins wanted to open a joke shop.
The group of seven went back up to Gryffindor Tower together, where they claimed a corner for themselves. Harry found himself sitting between Oliver and Alicia on the couch when the conversation turned to Quidditch.
"So, I asked McGonagall for all your schedules and turns out all of us are free tomorrow evening. We need to get Harry adjusted to the rest of the team, so I booked the pitch for our first practice tomorrow." Oliver spoke in one breath before anyone could interrupt.
"For TOMORROW?" Alicia glared at him. "I have a charms quiz next week; I need to study."
"Were you planning on studying tomorrow?" Angelina looked at the irate Alicia with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, no, but that's not the point. I could be studying, if not for our tyrant-captain." Alicia glared at Angelina, who only shrugged. Alicia turned to Harry, "Back me up here, Harry. Isn't practice tomorrow unnecessary?"
"Well, I'm really looking forward to playing with all of you, so I really don't mind," Harry said earnestly, a little intimidated by Alicia's fierce expression. Oliver looked vindicated, but Harry hurried before Alicia hexed him. "But I do think it is a little short notice."
Alicia gave Harry a look of betrayal and Oliver looked smug. Katie looked a little annoyed but didn't seem bothered enough to voice it. The twins looked excited at the prospect of Quidditch, and Angelina was convinced when Oliver mentioned that the practice wasn't in the morning.
"Tomorrow evening then," Oliver clapped his hands and stood up. "Wear your workout clothes. First practice back, we're doing double physical training."
That was met by collective groans from the team. Harry already knew tomorrow would leave him exhausted.
The next evening, Harry walked into the Great Hall feeling excited and more than a little nervous. His first-ever Quidditch practice was in thirty minutes, and Harry's stomach rolled at the thought of being watched and judged by his new teammates. Increasingly dramatic scenarios flashed through his mind, all ending with his expulsion from the team. The fact that this was his second time ever on a broom didn't help Harry's nerves any.
Harry spied an empty seat opposite Hermione and moved toward it. He saw Angelina and Alicia waving him over from further down, but he was of half mind to pretend he didn't see them. The thought of practice was pressure enough, he didn't need the presence of his teammates to aggravate his nerves.
The choice was taken out of his hands when two identical arms looped through him and lifted him off the ground.
Harry let out a surprised yell when Fred and George picked him up and carted him toward the two chasers. They plopped him down on an empty stretch of the bench and took seats on each of his sides. Across from him, Alicia and Angelina laughed at the frazzled look on Harry's face.
"Ready for Oliver to run you into the ground, Harry?" Angelina laughed at the panic on Harry's face.
"Don't worry, Harry. The first practice isn't usually too bad," Alicia said with a sombre look, and Harry felt there was a 'but'. "You won't be able to walk afterwards, but otherwise, not too bad."
Harry felt nauseous and welcomed a distraction in the form of a skipping, unnaturally cheery Katie Bell.
"Who hit you with a cheering charm?" Alicia raised an eyebrow and watched with mild disgust as Katie lathered way too much jam on her toast.
"Cedric waved to me on the stairs today," Katie said happily, before biting a huge chunk out of her toast.
"Was that before or after he caught you staring at him?" one of the twins chirped, while the other turned to Harry, and spoke in an obvious stage whisper.
"Wittle Katie fancies Cedric Diggory," he shook his head as if disappointed. "He's the Hufflepuff seeker, I can't believe she would get entangled with the enemy." The still-unidentified twin pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.
Katie glared at them both, her face becoming more and more reminiscent of a tomato as the twins spoke.
"Notice how she's not denying any of it," Angelina piped in, dodging a dinner roll Katie threw at her. Angelina faux-gasped. "You just tried to kill me! D'you reckon Ced is into serial killers, 'Licia?"
"You know what they say," Alicia said in what Harry supposed was meant to be a raspy, wise tone, though she ended up sounding like she had a rock stuck in her throat. "Opposites attract. If Ced's going to be the sunshine-and-daisies, she's got to be the crazy one, you know?"
"If Katie's the crazy one, what does that make you?" asked the twin on Harry's right merrily. Alicia made a rude gesture at him.
"Jealous, I think," Harry commented, reaching for the butter dish. His outstretched arm hid the large grin on his face as Alicia spluttered. Angelina roared with laughter. Harry looked up innocently at Angelina and Alicia. Fred and George looked like Christmas had come early.
"Do you like 'Ced', Alicia?" Air quotes were made around the word 'Ced'. "Is that why you're badgering Katie? Because he waved to her and not you?" The twin on Harry's left batted his eyelashes innocently.
"Badgering indeed. What is your opinion on badgers, Katie?" the other twin looked at her wide-eyed.
"Sod off George," Katie grumbled. "Harry, can you pass the salt?"
"I'm Fred!" Totally-not-George exclaimed. Katie ignored him and took the salt from Harry with a nod.
"What's going on?" Oliver asked, walking over to where the team was seated. He was already wearing workout clothes and a large, oblivious grin. "Why does Katie look like she's about to go on a killing spree?"
That sent everyone into another spiel of laughter, and Katie tossed another roll that hit Oliver square in the nose.
The Quidditch pitch smelled of freshly cut grass and cold wind bit at the team's ankles. Katie, who was still mad at the rest of the team, stuck by Harry on the way to the pitch. As they meandered in the locker room, waiting for the twins to leave the boys' changing room, she told him to enjoy the pleasantly cool weather while it lasted. "Once November rolls around, you'll be freezing in the air."
"Alright, people!" Wood walked out carrying the large box carrying the Quidditch balls. "First, we're doing some physical training."
At the words 'physical training', two loud groans came from within the changing room as the twins walked out. "You're going to kill us one day, Wood."
"Sorry, Fred. But you'll be thanking me when we win the cup this year."
"Yeah, you said that last year too mate."
"Well George, last year we didn't have our secret weapon." Oliver grinned at the twins, clapping Harry on the back. Harry swallowed nervously and stood up.
"Seems like our rookie is ready to go," Oliver surveyed the rest of his team happily. They all glared back at him. Alicia made a rude gesture. He leaned toward Harry and whispered conspiratorially. "I do extra physical training on the first practice of the season. I know no one except Angelina does much exercise over the break, so we're going to get the rust off. I think you'll have fun today, Harry."
Oliver Wood had a unique definition of fun.
Nearly two hours of running, push-ups, burpees, and other exercises had Harry shaking from exhaustion. He stood hunched over with his hands on his knees. Thick droplets of sweat formed on his chin and fell onto the grass. Spread across the pitch, the rest of the team lay collapsed in differing levels of exhaustion.
Fred and George lay face down on the grass, completely still. Harry was of half mind to check if they were still breathing. He would've done it too, if not for the occasional groan that sounded from their general direction. A few feet away, Alicia lay on her back, staring up at the heavens as if praying to some god to come down and smite Oliver. Katie was sat on the grass, leaning against one of the supports and slowly sipping on the water bottle Oliver had tossed to her.
Alicia had also received a bottle from Harry, and she had promptly dumped it on her head. She let out a contented sigh as the water ran down her face. Angelina was sitting up on the grass, sipping her bottle as she talked strategy with the captain, who appeared unbothered by the exercise. If not for the copious sweat on his clothing and face, one could be excused for thinking Oliver didn't join them for the exercise.
"Alright, team!" the captain clasped his hands, looking at all of them. "That's the warmup done –"
"The WHAT?" One of the twins yelled while the other screamed something incoherent. Alicia muttered something about tyrants and guillotines.
"I thought all of you liked flying?" Oliver raised an eyebrow. "We're playing Quidditch. That means broomsticks. Come on everyone, on your feet." He clapped twice, before extending a hand to Angelina. Harry offered a hand to Katie, who was the closest to him. She gave him a grateful look and clasped his forearm, pulling herself up. She got up with a sharp exhale.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, concerned.
"No, everything hurts," Katie groaned and leaned on him. "But that's to be expected. My fault for not going running with Ollie whenever he asked me. Speaking of, how do you still have the energy to stand up straight?"
"Er, I did a lot of running growing up." Harry had no intention of telling her, or anyone else at Hogwarts, about Harry Hunting.
"Did you do track and field in primary school?"
"Not exactly." Katie didn't push further, which he was grateful for.
The team filed into the locker room gingerly. Harry sat down next to Katie, who appeared to be breathing a little easier. Oliver and the girls were already fishing equipment out of their lockers. Harry burned with embarrassment. Oliver didn't tell him he was supposed to have all this protective gear. Maybe seekers didn't need them?
"Normally, seekers wear goggles," Oliver said as he dumped a pile of equipment into Harry's lap. Harry sorted through the worn elbow and knee pads, as well as a frayed pair of gloves. "You'll be moving at speeds much higher than the rest of us, so you might get a bug in your eye or something. But I figured you'd prefer to hold onto your glasses."
"Yeah, thanks for the gear, Oliver," Harry said gratefully, internally breathing a sigh of relief as the embarrassment dissipated.
"Don't thank me yet. I've got one last thing for you," Oliver grinned, pulling out a red and gold bundle of cloth and tossing it to Harry, who caught it reflexively. "Welcome to the team, Potter."
Harry unfurled the cloth, revealing a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey. The jersey looked exactly like the ones his teammates were wearing. The cloth was a rich crimson, with glossy gold accents running up his sides and down the long sleeves on his arms. On the front was emblazoned GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH in large, blocky letters. The Gryffindor house crest was printed just over his heart. The back was what really caught his attention. POTTER was printed on the back over the number seven, marking the jersey as his.
Harry threw the jersey on over his robes and basked in the feeling of his jersey. He could hardly believe it. He knew that he was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but now it felt so real, and he was so grateful for it. Harry shook his head and started strapping on the leather knee guards, lest his joy overwhelm him. Katie saw him fumbling with an elbow strap and helped him draw it taut. He smiled in thanks.
Harry glanced at his loaned school broom, which lay at his feet. He had asked Oliver about where he could buy himself a broom, and if he could do it from Hogwarts, but Oliver had very cryptically told him not to worry about it. Oliver stood up, and the rest of the team lazily followed suit. Harry was one of the first on his feet, he held his hand over his broom and muttered just like he'd been taught.
"Up!"
Harry's broom shot straight into his palm. His skin tingled the moment it met the chipped, gnarled wood. A rush of electricity coursed up his arm. He grinned, and the broom vibrated in his hands, almost seeming to bask in the attention. It seemed to respond to his enthusiasm, almost like a pet.
Could brooms feel enthusiasm? Maybe they were like horses and could recognise their user's emotions.
Before he could think too hard about his theory, Oliver cleared his throat.
"Alright, team!" came the disproportionately enthusiastic voice of Oliver Wood. He grinned at them, either oblivious to, ignoring, or enjoying the many glares from his teammates. "As you know, we have a new teammate, so we're going to go over basic drills and formations today. Harry, I want you to pay attention to the chaser formations because you're going to be working around them a lot."
Harry nodded. The team moved together onto the grass. Oliver kept pace with Harry, explaining Quidditch fundamentals as they walked.
"Beaters tend to play reactively to the situation, and keepers stay near their end, so we're usually pretty good at staying out of your way," Oliver pointed at Fred and George, then at himself. "But seekers and chasers are both constantly moving and making plays. That means that there's a higher chance that you bump into each other. So, keep an eye out for where your chasers are, and they'll keep an eye out for you. More than anything else, the four of you need to be on the same page. If that communication breaks down, then we'll always be on the back foot. Got it?
"Yeah, I think so," Harry looked at the three chasers. They were walking as a group, heads together as they all laughed at something. Harry could tell that the three of them were a well-oiled unit and worked well together. How was he supposed to become a part of that? Would they even want him to work with them? What if they felt that he was more of a hindrance than a help? After all, it was only his second time ever on a broom.
The self-doubt flooded his brain as he watched the chasers. Suddenly, he didn't want to be on the pitch anymore. Then he looked closer at the people around him. Oliver was still talking about snitch-dodging, which was when a seeker saw the snitch before his opponent and feinted in the other direction to prolong the game and let the chasers score. Alicia, who had turned around and seen Harry looking, smirked at him and gave him a two-finger salute. Katie and Angelina, who had been so nice to him, argued about something inane. The twins were sneaking up behind the arguing girls, probably up to some mischief.
Despite his misgivings and doubts, for some reason, his teammates believed in him. For them, he decided he would work hard to become the seeker they thought he was. He clutched the Gryffindor house crest on his jersey and promised himself that he would catch the snitch in their first game. No matter what.
A sharp whistle knocked Harry out of his reverie, and he looked at Oliver, who had made the sound. Oliver, who had been carrying the large crate with the Quidditch balls, dropped it unceremoniously on the grass in front of him.
"Alright, we're going to start with standard drills. Chasers, we're going to be doing shooting drills. Standard procedure." Oliver looked at the girls. His tone had lost the easygoing and excitable lilt that Harry associated with Oliver Wood. Instead, standing before Harry was the Quidditch Captain. He spoke with purpose and efficiency, and the gleam in his eyes was the only thing that belied his excitement. "Start at the scrimmage line, only three passes allowed past the penalty line. And for the love of Merlin, follow the rules of the game. No running into the keeper."
The girls nodded simultaneously, though Alicia seemed a little put out that she wouldn't be able to enact revenge on Oliver for the physical training.
"Fred, George, you two are going to take the other half of the pitch. Practice passing the bludger and making target shots. Use the hoops. After, say 20 minutes, join me and the chasers and we'll run the shooting drills again with you two running interference."
"Aye aye, captain!" Fred and George chorused. The former chose a girlish, high-pitched screech, while the latter opted for an unnaturally low, gravelly tone. Oliver shook his head fondly.
"Harry, you're going to chase this here practice snitch," Oliver held up a glittering, tiny ball. He gave it to Harry, who secured it in his pocket. "Release, close your eyes and count to five, catch, and repeat. Don't worry about coming into the playing area of the rest of us, we'll have to work around each other in a match, might as well get started now."
Harry nodded seriously.
"Alright, everyone. Let's get in the air and make a couple of laps around the pitch. Once you're comfortable, find the rest of your practice buddies and get started," Oliver got on his broom and kicked off in one fluid motion. "Let's have a good practice, everyone."
The rest of his team followed Oliver's example, and Harry found himself in the air once more.
He shot into the air and his wide eyes shone with glee once he adjusted to the momentary feeling of weightlessness. The nerves were replaced by sheer adrenaline. He felt the magic of the broom rush up his body and he felt the familiar electricity jolt through him. It invigorated him, and he felt the last dregs of insecurity fade away. That same feeling of freedom enveloped him as he pressed his body flat to his broom. He pushed the broom as fast as it would go, squinting as the wind battered his face. He lapped the pitch once before slowing down to a more sedate pace.
Harry made a few more lazy laps around the pitch, testing the surroundings. A gentle breeze drafted through the pitch, and Harry was suddenly glad that he had a set of robes on under his jersey. Once he felt used to the school broom, Harry floated to the center of the pitch. Harry pulled the practice snitch out of his pocket and watched its wings unfurl. Harry released the golden ball and watched it zoom away from him. He closed his eyes and counted to five.
He opened his eyes and took a cursory glance. The snitch was nowhere to be found. Harry's eyebrows creased as he took a second, closer look. He scanned the pitch, looking for a flash of gold, but the only thing he saw was a gold pin on Alicia's bandanna.
Harry shook his head before leaning forward and accelerating. He lapped the outer edge of the pitch, head on a swivel searching for the snitch. He was on his third lap when he spotted a glint of gold under the teacher's stands, directly across the pitch from him. Harry's eyes narrowed and his vision focused on the snitch, and all else faded into the background.
Harry leaned forward and his broom followed suit, propelling forward. He shot through the center of the pitch, barely dodging Alicia who was angling to pass to Angelina. He didn't see the pass from a startled Alicia go wide or see Katie have to break formation to catch the missed Quaffle.
No, all Harry saw was the glint of gold from the other end. He closed in on the snitch and the ball started flying away from him. Harry followed the snitch under the stands, and he cursed internally at the thought of dodging the support beams. He ducked under a jutting support beam and held out his hand.
The wind surged against him as if nature itself was trying to stop him from the snitch. Harry swore he could almost feel the magic of the broom battling the wind, propelling him ever forward. Harry was gaining slowly on the snitch. It was only a few inches away now. He leaned forward, pressing himself even flatter against the borrowed broom. His eyes watered from a combination of the wind and a lack of blinking.
Harry was so focused on the snitch that he nearly flew headfirst into another support beam. Harry dove down at the last moment, cursing as he forced his broom back up. His eyes scanned his vicinity for the snitch.
He spotted it flying back towards the center of the pitch. Harry made a sharp turn, shifting his body weight to the left as the broom changed course. Even though the snitch had gained distance, Harry was back on its tail in an instant. He was flying over open air now and he could see the ground beneath him turn green as he flew over the grass. The snitch tried to lose Harry among his teammates and Harry tilted his broom upward, climbing over the rest of the players. He was well above the snitch and the ball seemed to realise this as it changed direction downward.
Harry cursed and dove down. He felt lighter than air as he accelerated downward. He felt faster than he had ever before, as gravity helped him on his path to the snitch. The turbulence in the air shook him but his knuckles tightened around the shaft of his broom. Maybe five feet above the ground, the snitch flattened out and shot toward the hoops near Fred and George.
Harry curved his broom, flattening out comfortably above the ground. He used the momentum from his dive to propel himself forward, nearing the snitch rapidly.
"Just a bit more," He muttered through clenched teeth when he was less than an arm's length away. Harry's teeth grit together as his broom gave an extra burst of speed, and he lurched forward. His fingers brushed cool metal. His hand closed around the ball, and his arm dropped to his side with the snitch grasped in his palm.
Harry grinned with satisfaction as he leaned back on his broom, slowing it down. His heart pounded in his chest, and he couldn't hear much over the blood rushing in his ears. He took deep heaving breaths as he ascended to the middle of the pitch. A sharp whistle drew his attention, and he looked to see the rest of the team floating near the center of the pitch.
"Nice flying Harry," Oliver held his hand up for a high-five as Harry approached. He indulged his captain, trying not to blush at the many compliments from his teammates. Alicia approached him and punched his shoulder lightly.
"Don't be flying past me like that, I nearly had a heart attack."
Harry grinned apologetically and looked at Oliver, who was trying to get his attention.
"While you did great work catching the snitch, you made a couple of mistakes when it comes to the larger game," Oliver lectured. "Remember what we spoke about on the ground?"
"Yeah, I nearly knocked Alicia off her broom, and I think Katie had to break formation to catch the missed pass too. I guess I tunnel-visioned on the snitch too much. Sorry." Harry hung his head low and stared at the ground in shame, which was significantly harder when he was thirty feet in the air. The three chasers approached him.
"It's not a problem at all, Harry," Angelina patted him on the back. "You're a rookie that's never played Quidditch before. You'll learn quickly. By the first game, you'll be a demon."
"Yeah, I'll forgive you on one condition Harry," Alicia grinned, and Harry looked at her with more than a little trepidation. "I get to write your introduction."
"My what?"
"You'll see."