A/N: Chapter revised as of November 3, 2024.
The last three weeks of summer were a mad scramble for Harry to soak in as much relaxation time as possible before returning to school. Pettigrew's trial had soured much of his holiday, and now a return to classes felt like another thing to dread on the horizon rather than a happy reprieve. He'd never been given such freedom, such luxuries during summers with the Dursleys, and Harry intended to make full use of it while he can.
Harry and Dahlia spent nearly every afternoon down at the creek with the local Muggle kids, swimming and splashing the hot hours away. Harry hoped that he wasn't expected to know anyone's names from his first eleven years of life he'd skipped over in this timeline, but no one seemed to pay him any mind except to bring him in as a partner for water wars. He even managed to smooth things over when a seven-year-old girl displayed accidental magic, convincing the other kids that her teleportation from the rope swing to shore was just a trick of the light.
Harry also made a point every weekend to drag his father down to the nearby field (which was warded from prying Muggle eyes) to practice flying maneuvers on James' old Cleansweep. It wasn't the fastest or most agile broom, but it had a good all-around balance that Harry felt he could do reasonably well with. He knew he would have tough competition at tryouts with Cho Chang also going for Seeker, and wanted to get back into playing shape as soon as possible.
September 1st arrived far too soon, and as usual, the Potters were running late. No matter what timeline Harry was in, he always managed to procrastinate packing until the last possible second. Couple that with Dahlia struggling to corral Calvin the Kneazle into his cage, and Harry needing to double back to retrieve his father's broom from the shed, and it was nearing eleven when they finally reached King's Cross.
Harry had missed the Hogwarts Express in his original second year, thanks to Dobby sealing the platform entrance for him and Ron. He knew his father could arrange alternate transport for him and Dahlia if they were late, but he knew he had to get to the train this time. It would be his best chance to get to Ginny and take Tom Riddle's diary from her before it disappeared into the girls' dorms for the remainder of the year.
Luckily, they reached the platform with five minutes to spare, and James and Lily said their goodbyes. "Write to us as much as you like," Lily told Dahlia, who was looking a bit green at the prospect of leaving her parents for the first time ever. "Your brother will keep an eye on you, won't you, Harry?"
"Sure will," Harry said, slinging an arm across his sister's shoulders (which she shrugged away from).
"You take care of yourself as well," James said, giving Harry a hug. "Study hard, but don't overwork yourself. And let us know how Quidditch tryouts go!"
"I will," Harry nodded. The Hogwarts Express sounded its whistle, signaling its impending departure, and James and Lily said their final goodbyes as Harry and Dahlia rushed to the nearest train door to embark on their journey.
The halls of the train were choked with students as it rumbled away from the station. Harry took hold of Dahlia's hand to guide her through the crowd; for once she did not shy away from him, clutching her brother's hand tight for comfort. Eventually hey came across a compartment filled with girls from his year, including Hermione, Daphne Greengrass, and the Patil twins.
"Alright if we join?" he asked, and when they nodded, he slipped in and took the empty seat beside Hermione with a heavy sigh. "This is my sister, Dahlia. She's starting this year."
"Nice to meet you, Dahlia!" Hermione beamed at the younger girl. "Do you know what House you want to be in?"
"I'm hoping for Gryffindor," said Dahlia, looking marginally less nervous with such friendly faces around her. "Like my parents."
"Good choice!" Parvati Patil chuckled. "I'll show you the ropes if you end up there. I'll teach you how to avoid the slippery snakes in Slytherin."
"As if there's anything wrong with Slytherin!" Daphne scoffed, as she extended her hand to Dahlia. "Shame you won't get to meet my sister this year – Tori doesn't turn eleven until next month, so she'll start next year."
"Have a nice summer, Harry?" asked Hermione as the other girls made their introductions with Dahlia.
"It was alright," Harry shrugged. "Bit stressful, I guess, with the trial going on."
"My father told me all about the Pettigrew trial," Daphne piped in; everyone suddenly looked interested in their conversation. "So awful what he did to poor Professor Quirrell. Were you called in to testify?"
"They didn't let me," Harry shrugged. "I was questioned by the Ministry, but the case got buried overnight."
"Yeah, that's what Father said," Daphne frowned. "Super quick trial, maybe an hour. Fudge just read the charges, presented the evidence, and called for a vote. Pettigrew didn't even get to defend himself."
"Well, everyone knows he did it," Padma reasoned. "No need to drag things out when he's obviously guilty, right?"
"They just didn't want his true reasoning on the official record," Harry sighed. "Fudge would do anything to deny Voldemort's return."
Everyone but Hermione gasped at the use of the name. "You-Know-Who?" Daphne repeated, wide-eyed. "Longbottom said he was back, but we all assumed he was lying for attention."
"Afraid not," Harry lamented. "He's still out there, trying to regain his power."
"Dumbledore wouldn't let him," Parvati said adamantly. "He'll find a way to stop him."
Harry wanted to set her straight, to remind her that Dumbledore let Voldemort inhabit the school for nearly a full year without noticing. But the mood had soured and everyone appeared apprehensive, so he decided to leave it be. "Yeah, he will," Harry agreed. "Daphne, how was your break?"
Harry leaned back and listened as the others shared their summer experiences. It helped take his mind off of his many worries for a while. Hermione excitedly recounted her holiday to France with her parents, and the Patil twins shared details of their own trip to the United States to visit relatives and tour MACUSA headquarters in New York City. Harry had never traveled outside of Britain in his life – either life – and hoped to do so someday soon.
He spent the majority of the train ride in pensive silence, brainstorming possible ways to get his hands on Riddle's diary before it could cause any mayhem like last year. He needed to locate Ginny Weasley as soon as possible – once the diary reached Gryffindor Tower, it would likely be out of his reach for good. Thanks to the different Sortings in this timeline, Harry wasn't on good enough terms with any Gryffindors to hope to steal it back from Ginny's dorm (assuming she was Sorted there again).
It was dark when the Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade Station, and the students filed off the train with their luggage in tow. "Firs' years, this way!" boomed Hagrid, waving a lantern over the heads of the crowd. Harry ushered Dahlia towards the half-giant, and she seemed considerably more excited now than she had at King's Cross. The proximity to Hogwarts was likely dawning on her now, papering over any lingering homesickness she might be feeling.
Harry stuck with Hermione as they filed down the cobblestone streets in search of an empty carriage. Harry stopped short when they found one: he could see the two thestrals hitched to the front, waiting patiently to transport their load. "Something the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked, sensing his mood shift.
"Nothing," Harry muttered, climbing up into the carriage and helping Hermione up. He hadn't been able to see thestrals until his fifth year last timeline; he'd forgotten in all the hubbub of the summer that he had, in fact, witnessed Quirrell's death in full this time around.
Is it bad if I'm not that bothered by it anymore? Harry thought. Is death something a twelve-year-old is supposed to become used to? He may be no normal twelve-year-old, but he worried that he might become some kind of callous monster if he wasn't careful and continued treating death as an unfortunate but inevitable force around him.
Hogwarts Castle came cresting into view over the horizon as the carriages rumbled down the path onto the grounds. Harry would never get tired of the sight – even if school term was more stressful now, he would always think of this place as his second home. When the carriages pulled up to the great oak doors, Harry followed the throng of students into the Great Hall and took his seat at the Ravenclaw table.
"Do you see Ron and Neville anywhere?" Hermione asked, standing to get a better view of the Great Hall.
"No," Harry frowned. "I assumed you knew where they were."
"I didn't see them on the train, or at either station," Hermione frowned. "Strange...well, I'm sure they'll turn up eventually."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. He wondered if the two boys had been blocked from entering Platform 9 ¾ as he had in his original timeline, and if they were on their way to the school in a flying Ford Anglia at this very moment…
The first-years arrived soon after, filing in through a side entrance as Harry was busy greeting his dorm mates. The too-small students formed a semi-circle around Professor McGonagall, who brandished the Sorting Hat in one hand and a scroll in the other. "When I call your name, step forward and sit on the stool," she announced. "Baines, Taylor."
Harry paid rapt attention to the Sorting, which he'd missed in his original second year. He recognized several of the young students waiting their turn – former DA members – and his heart leapt at the opportunity to get to interact with them again. They may be tiny and nervous now, but he knew several of them had the potential to grow into capable fighters and fiercely loyal friends.
As an excited Colin Creevey was sorted into Gryffindor, Harry noticed a few of the first-years giggling and giving one of their own a wide berth towards the end of the pack. Harry craned his neck and spotted a short first-year girl, drenched head to toe and shivering wet. His heart sank at the familiar mess of platinum-blonde hair, realizing that the poor girl was already off to a rough start at Hogwarts.
"Lovegood, Luna" was called, and the shivering girl stepped forward to sit on the stool. McGonagall took pity on her with a Drying Charm before placing the hat atop her head.
The Hat deliberated for about a minute before declaring, "RAVENCLAW!" Luna scurried off the stool and drifted towards the blue and bronze table.
"What on earth are those earrings?" giggled Padma Patil as they watched the blonde approach.
"Who's gonna get stuck sitting next to the weirdo?" wondered Terry Boot aloud.
But Harry immediately scooted over on his bench and waved Luna over. She looked mildly surprised by the kind gesture (as did all of Harry's year mates), but the blonde walked over and sat beside him.
"Hi, Luna, I'm Harry Potter," said Harry, extending a hand towards her.
"Hello, Harry Potter," said Luna in her typical serene voice (though much higher and squeakier than Harry remembered). "I like your eyes; they're very green."
"I like your earrings; they're very red," Harry replied, glancing at her trademark radish jewelry. "Did you fall into the lake, by chance?"
"Oh, no, I was pushed in by one of my boat mates," Luna said airily, as though it was no bother at all. "But I managed to hold onto the side until we reached the shore."
A couple nearby Ravenclaws snickered at this matter-of-fact statement, but Harry was unamused. "That was not okay for them to do," he said sternly. "If anyone bothers you like that again, tell a teacher or a prefect and they'll sort it out."
"Okay," Luna shrugged indifferently, but Harry could tell the girl was silently pleased someone had stuck up for her. He ignored the odd looks of his classmates and returned his attention to the Sorting.
After "Pickering, Adam" took his seat, McGonagall announced, "Potter, Dahlia!" Harry straightened as his younger sister nervously stepped up to the stool. The Hat didn't take long to reach its verdict, shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!" within the first thirty seconds. Dahlia beamed as she skipped down to join the vaunted house of her parents. Good for her, Harry thought. There were plenty of good eggs in Gryffindor that would make her feel at home.
"Weasley, Ginevra" was called up second to last. Harry watched the young redhead carefully; she looked nervous but no worse for wear otherwise. She must not be feeling the debilitating effects of the diary – Tom Riddle had yet to truly sink his teeth into her. Ginny was also sorted into Gryffindor, grinning excitedly as she took her seat beside Dahlia. Harry felt a bit uneasy about his sister being in such close proximity to a dangerous artifact, but if he had his way, it would only be temporary.
After "Young, Tamika" went to Slytherin, Dumbledore stood from his seat to address the students. "Welcome, one and all, to another year at Hogwarts!" he announced. "Before we begin, we have a few staff changes to announce. Please give a warm round of applause for our new caretaker, Argus Filch."
There was a polite smattering of hands for the man standing awkwardly in the corner, clutching Mrs. Norris close to his chest. The man did not appear as bitter and surly as in Harry's last timeline, as was gazing around the Great Hall in awe – clearly Hogwarts was still a novelty for the Squib.
"And filling in the vacated post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," said Dumbledore with a gesture to his left, "is Gilderoy Lockhart!"
There was a cacophony of excited screams from Hogwarts' female population as Lockhart stood and gave a sweeping bow to the room. Harry noted the looks of indifference from many of his male classmates, and wondered how long it would take until they, too, realized what a fraud the man was.
"Enjoy the coming year, everyone," Dumbledore winked. "And now, we feast!" And great helpings of food appeared atop the four house tables, inviting the student body to eat. The Hall was suddenly filled with a great clattering of dishes and silverware as students began piling their plates high.
Harry felt wide eyes upon him as he reached for the mashed potatoes, and turned to see the blonde first-year peering curiously at him. "Something the matter, Luna?" he asked conversationally as he kept pulling dishes toward him.
"Your head is full of nargles, Harry," Luna remarked serenely. "Do they ever talk to you?"
"No, I'm afraid they don't," Harry chuckled. He'd forgotten how out-there Luna's beliefs could be, but he found it a refreshing change of pace from the no-nonsense dispositions of his fellow Ravenclaws. "Do they talk to you?"
"Oh, all the time!" Luna nodded fervently. "They whisper to me sometimes. And right now they're telling me that there's something different about you."
"Different in a good or a bad way?" Harry chuckled, biting into a chicken drum.
"They aren't sure yet," Luna shrugged. "But you don't seem dangerous to me, so I think a good way."
"That's nice to hear," Harry grinned. "You seem different in a good way too, Luna."
Luna said nothing in response to this compliment, but her face went a little pink as she began to load her own plate with food. Harry's dorm mates raised an eyebrow at him, regarding Luna with some distaste, but Harry ignored them. Knowing what he did from his last timeline – what Luna had done for him – he'd take her as a friend over the rest of Ravenclaw House any day of the week.
A loud voice from a few seats down drew Harry's attention, and he turned to see Roger Davies boasting loudly to his fellow fifth-year mates. "I've made Quidditch captain this year, now that Lynch is gone," he preened. "We'll have to find a replacement Seeker, but I feel good about our chances this year."
"Don't you worry about that," said Cho Chang from across the table. "I've been training at Seeker for five years."
"That so?" Roger grinned. "Well, then I look forward to checking you out at tryouts." And from the way his eyes lingered on Cho for a second longer than necessary, Harry deduced that he meant this in more ways than one. He just hoped that Roger would take more factors into account than physical attractiveness when choosing a Seeker.
Once the students had eaten their fill, the scraping of dishes was replaced by the scraping of benches as everyone stood to retire to their common rooms. Harry pushed through the crowd towards the Gryffindor table. He spotted Ginny Weasley in the crowd, following the herd as Percy Weasley herded the first-years out of the Great Hall.
"Ginny?" he called out after her. "Got a minute?"
Ginny turned, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "Yeah?" she asked.
"Erm...I'm Harry Potter," said Harry awkwardly. "We met in Diagon Alley, remember?"
"Yeah, kinda," Ginny shrugged.
"Listen…" Harry sighed. "Did anyone slip something into your cauldron in the Alley that day? Something you didn't recognize?"
"Like what?"
"Like a diary?" Harry said hopefully. "Leather-bound, with Tom Riddle written on the inside cover?"
Ginny frowned. "You want to see my diary?" she asked, confused.
"Not your diary," Harry huffed. "It doesn't belong to you – it's a dangerous Dark artifact, and I just want to be sure—"
"There a problem here, Gin?" asked Fred Weasley, as he and his twin George strolled up behind them.
"Harry was just asking me something about a diary," muttered Ginny, still looking confused.
"What're you on about, Potter?" demanded George, narrowing his eyes.
"Nothing like that," Harry reassured them. "Just saying to keep a lookout. That diary is dangerous, so if you hear anything…" But the Weasleys continued to just stare blankly at him, not comprehending what he was talking about.
"Don't mind my brother," said another voice; Dahlia appeared, taking Ginny by the hand. "Let's go, Ginny." And she led the smaller redhead from the Hall, the older Weasleys following close behind, still eyeing Harry curiously. Harry sighed – he just hoped his warning would take root, and Ginny would warn somebody before writing in the diary too often. Assuming she still had it, of course.
"Your sister seems rather close with Ginevra Weasley," Luna remarked as Harry returned to his fellow Ravenclaws.
"Yes; that's what I'm worried about," Harry muttered. He certainly didn't love the idea of his sister being so close to such a dangerous object.
He was still determined to head off disaster before Halloween came around...he would just have to recalculate after such a terrible first attempt. As a last resort, he could always go to Dumbledore with another 'vision', or perhaps even persuade McGonagall to search the girls' dorms in search of dangerous contraband. He had two months to come up with a viable plan.
An unexpected development occurred the very next morning, when the Ravenclaws and Slytherins filed into the DADA classroom for their first lesson of the new term. Hermione searched the room for Neville at once, as she always did, and frowned when he was nowhere to be seen. She wound up joining Harry at his desk when Lockhart exited his office, looking pompous as ever.
Lockhart too scanned the room, also seeming perturbed by the absence of the Boy Who Lived. "No Longbottom today, then?" he asked with an air of disappointment. "Ah, well, no matter. Today, we'll be taking a pop quiz on my textbooks to test you on your summer reading!"
"Stupid prat wound up in the Hospital Wing," Harry heard Draco Malfoy whispering gleefully to his nearby Slytherin classmates. "Some kind of Floo Powder incident – can you believe it?"
Harry and Hermione shared looks of alarm. Harry had wondered whether Neville and Ron wound up flying the Ford Anglia to school, but the timeline seemed to have deviated yet again.
As soon as class mercifully ended an hour later, Harry and Hermione rushed up to the Hospital Wing to check on Neville. They found him lying lethargically in a cot, looking rather glum, but he brightened at the sight of them.
"Thank goodness you're alright!" Hermione said breathlessly, throwing her arms around Neville, eliciting a wince of pain. "Malfoy made it out to sound that you'd lost limbs or something horrible."
"Oh, I did," Neville chuckled hollowly, indicating his heavily-bandaged legs. "Took all night to regrow them, and it'll be another few days until I'm able to walk."
"You lost your legs?!" Harry yelped in alarm. "What on earth happened?"
"Well, me and Ron got stuck outside the platform at King's Cross," Neville explained. "It was almost eleven, and the barrier just sealed itself shut for no reason!"
"So that's why you missed the train," Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "But Malfoy said something about a Floo accident…?"
"Right," Neville sighed. "Well, we waited outside the platform until my Gran came back, and she brought us to the Leaky Cauldron to have us Floo directly to Hogsmeade instead. It went alright for Ron, but when I went through, something went terribly wrong."
"Did you mispronounce the destination?" Harry asked.
"Nope, I said 'The Three Broomsticks', clear as day," Neville frowned. "And the trip started out like normal, but then there was some kind of loud crack, and I blacked out. Apparently, most of me made it to the Three Broomsticks, but my poor Gran had to watch as my legs got spat back out into the Leaky Cauldron."
Hermione's face went very pale. "You got Splinched?" she asked. "I didn't think that was possible during Floo travel…"
"Me neither," Neville said glumly. "Luckily, Madam Pomfrey was still in the village and managed to patch me back up and bring me here. She'd never heard of such a thing either."
Sounds like Dobby must have continued interfering to try and keep Neville away from school, Harry thought irritably. If I get my hands on that meddlesome house-elf… It at least confirmed that things were progressing similarly enough to his last timeline, and the diary plot was still ongoing.
Neville managed to convince Harry and Hermione that he was fine and they could return to classes, which they only agreed to do once Madam Pomfrey arrived to shoo them away and let him rest. That unfortunately meant them walking into the dungeons halfway through double Potions, earning them a dressing-down from Professor Snape. They were less than half a day into the new year, and Harry had already managed to put Ravenclaw in last place in the House Cup standings.
No matter, he thought determinedly to himself. I'll make up for it by winning us the Quidditch Cup this year. That Saturday was when Ravenclaw would host its tryouts for that year's Quidditch team, and Harry had never been more eager for the weekend in his life. He desperately wanted to return to the air and compete in the sport – one of the few things he was best at in life.
Harry arrived early at the pitch on Saturday morning to get in a few practice laps on the Cleansweep and settle his nerves. But they returned in full force when a large crowd of hopefuls showed up for tryouts – over twenty students competing for just two vacated spots on the team. Cho Chang was among them, chatting excitedly with a friend, looking fully relaxed – she fully expected to earn the Seeker position. Not if I have anything to say about it, Harry thought.
Roger Davies arrived soon after to begin the proceedings. "Thank you all for coming," he announced once the crowd settled down to listen. "We have five remaining members from last year's team, but Lynch and Burrow have graduated, so we'll only be trying out Chaser and Seeker hopefuls today." A few people looked disappointed at this – likely hoping to try out for Beater or Keeper. Harry thought it was poor form to automatically give last year's players a spot on the team without testing anyone else, but he was not the captain, so he said nothing.
Roger started by having everyone fly through a makeshift obstacle course, weaving between the goalposts and rings in groups before returning to the ground. This weeded out roughly half the field, as several students couldn't even handle basic flying maneuvers and were forced to retire early. Harry and Cho completed their runs with relative ease, moving on to the next phase.
Roger ran through Chaser drills next, which comprised most of the other prospective players. After a grueling session in which Davies forced student after student to run through a full gauntlet against the other starting players, a winner emerged: Kade Wilson, a burly fourth-year boy who had managed to score a goal despite being pelted by a Bludger at the same time. Harry thought brute strength was a bit of a flawed metric to judge Chasers on, as he was far from the most agile and sharp-minded prospect, but again, he kept his opinions to himself.
"Alright, Seekers!" Roger said at last, turning to Harry and Cho – the only surviving prospects for the final position on the squad. "You're a bit small for a Seeker, Potter – sure you don't want to wait a few years to grow a little?"
"Smaller size means less wind resistance," Harry pointed out. "And I'm harder to hit with Bludgers."
"If you say so," Roger shrugged. "Let's get started."
Harry and Cho took to the skies, circling overhead as Roger stood at center field. "The Beaters will distract you as you search for the Snitch," he shouted. "I'll release it at a random time so you won't see it coming. Best two out of three Snitches wins. Ready?"
Both Harry and Cho flashed a thumbs-up as the exercise began. The team's two starting Beaters, Inglebee and Samuels, took turns pelting Bludgers at both Harry and Cho, forcing them to take evasive actions as they searched for the Snitch. Harry felt fully in his element, ducking beneath one and barrel-rolling to avoid another. This is what I was born to do, he thought confidently. Time to show them what I can—
But he was drawn from his internal pep talk as Cho suddenly flattened into a dive, racing after the Golden Snitch near the ground. Harry took off after her, but his broom was a hair slower than her Comet 260, and he only managed to come within a broom's length of Cho before she leveled out, the Snitch caught triumphantly in her palm.
"First Snitch goes to Chang!" Roger announced. "Reset."
Harry grumbled internally to himself for losing focus. He also felt that the situation had been a tad unfair – Roger had released the Snitch while he was being targeted by both Beaters at once, leaving Cho uncontested to race after it. But no matter. Whining and complaining would earn him no brownie points – he had to remain focused.
After another whistle, Harry once again found himself at the mercy of both Beaters. Are they targeting me intentionally? he wondered grumpily. Does Roger want Cho to win? But such conspiracy thinking wouldn't help him compete at his best, so he pushed the thought away, straining hard to catch a glimpse of the little golden ball.
He spotted it soon after, fluttering off towards the west goal posts. Harry took off like a jet, handily rolling away from another Bludger as he zeroed in on the prize.
Cho caught up behind him soon after, trying to out-maneuver Harry and snatch the Snitch from him. Harry kept her boxed out just long enough to put on a final burst of speed and catch the golden ball for himself.
"Second Snitch goes to Potter," said Roger, looking somewhat surprised by the outcome. "Last reset!"
Just one more, Harry thought to himself as they returned to center field for the final Snitch. Time to prove what I'm capable of.
Roger didn't release the third Snitch right away, leaving Harry and Cho to dance and dodge around in the air as they were pelted by the Beaters. Harry was pleased to see that, while he avoided being hit by a single Bludger, Cho took a couple glancing blows. To her credit, however, she did not fall or complain; she merely shook off the pain and continued her own search.
She and Harry spotted it at the same time. They both shot after the Snitch, ending up roughly side by side as they attempted to reach the elusive ball first. They each took a couple body shots at the other; Cho was older and taller than Harry was, and he was irritated by how easily she was able to push him off-course with her shoulder checks.
The final Snitch was more elusive than the first two, evading both of their grasps for several passes. Harry was winded as he fought to remain side-by-side with Cho for the prolonged chase. Unfortunately, he mistimed the winning catch as he swiped at empty air, the Snitch slipping through his fingertips as Cho once again closed her fist around the tiny ball.
Harry swore at his misfortune. That was one he should have caught; he had nobody to blame but himself. Why had he not trained harder over the summer in preparation for this moment? All those Veritaserum training sessions had prevented him from flying with his father more often. He simply didn't have the dexterity, the upper-body strength he needed to win those close-quarters fights.
"Good battle, you two!" Roger beamed as they landed back on the pitch; Harry could tell that he'd gotten the result he hoped for. "Congratulations, Chang, you've made the team. Potter, tough luck, but feel free to remain on as reserve Seeker if you like."
"Alright," Harry sighed, shaking hands politely with Cho before heading back to the locker room to change, the sounds of the team cheering on their new Seeker ringing painfully in his ears.
He was disappointed for failing to meet the standards he'd set for himself. He could blame Roger for showing favoritism towards Cho, or his lack of training time over the summer, or his broom for not being as quick as his opponent's, but ultimately he was responsible for his own failures. He felt a sense of dread as he imagined having to write home and tell his parents the news...that they wouldn't get to see him play this year after all...would his father be disappointed in his only son for failing to live up to expectations?
But there was no point in moping. He would have to ride the bench this year and hope for a chance to prove himself at a later date. He couldn't rely on name recognition or special treatment in this timeline – he had to work harder to overcome adversity. Besides, he had bigger problems on his plate at the moment.
Like preventing the Chamber of Secrets from being opened on Halloween…