The Quidditch World Cup

By: TheEndless7

Fandom: harry potter

Summary: After the war, things didn't go as planned for Harry. He tried to be an Auror, but it wasn't for him. Instead, he turned to Quidditch. Now, at the 2002 World Cup, he looks back on what went wrong and discovers what he always wanted.

Status: Completed

Fic type: Books/Harry Potter

Pairings/Main char.: Harry P., Luna L.

Published: 2011-04-01

Last updated: 2017-12-25

Words count: 77,996

Chapters count: 7

Converted using www.FF2EBOOK.com
Date: 2020-06-09

1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Cammiles2003 and Onichun for the beta work, and maybe a Ferrari Enzo. Also to Michael Shaara for the excellent novel For Love of the Game which served as the inspiration to this.

This is a re-post. I accidentally deleted it when attempting to edit scene breaks. Oops. Don't drink and edit!

The Quidditch World Cup

Chapter 1

Italy

"Well they're certainly happy to see you," Titus Button, a beater, said as Harry Potter walked into the locker room before the match.

"What the hell did you do to piss all of them off?" Jason Williams, a chaser and their teammate on the Ballycastle Bats asked from the next locker. Harry just laughed and glanced over at him.

"Do you not read any of the papers?" he asked.

"Do I strike you as the reading type?" Jason countered.

"Okay, fine. Do you not listen to the gossip, the news, and your girlfriend's idle complaints?" Harry asked, growing slightly more grouchy.

"Just screwing with you, man," Jason said. "Titus bet me five sickles I couldn't piss you off before the match."

"Why would you want to piss me off before the match? Harry asked.

"Well you don't do much," Titus responded. Harry glared at him. "What, you don't. You fly around, blocks sights and looking for a little golden ball. You have plenty of time to get over it!"

"You're just mad you owe him five silver," Harry responded.

"That I am. However, I'll get something out of you later to pay it back." Titus said.

"I don't gamble," Harry responded.

"True. But you're fantastic to bet on," Titus said. "Made a small fortune betting against you in your last season with the Tornadoes."

"Oh that's just fantastic to know," Harry responded. "Hope you're not still betting against me."

"Oh no. Can't bet on the Bats," Titus teased. Harry knew full well his friend didn't bet on quidditch, despite how often he joked about it.

"Well who'd you bet on to win this?" Harry asked.

"Bulgaria," Titus responded without missing a beat.

"Really? The Irish have beaten them the last two times," Harry said.

"The Irish are old. Bulgaria is primed to win," Button said.

"And where are we going to finish?" Williams asked.

"Third or Fifth," Titus responded without delay.

"Glad to see you like our chances," Harry responded dryly.

"I liked them more before Jones, Bell, and your wife started giving you death glares. They didn't seem that annoyed with you in practice."

"They didn't have to live near me in practice," Harry responded, pulling on his white uniform, the red cross splitting his chest into four equal squares. He knew the usual was seven spread across his back, with Potter rising above it. He scanned the room quickly. Long enough to see the three of Jones leave, followed quickly by the five of Weasley-Potter. She just couldn't give it up. It probably should have bothered him more than it did. But really it just brought everything back.

"Still. Going to be a long tournament if half the team won't even look at you," Jason said.

"Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure they didn't want me on the team, either," Harry said.

"They didn't. Ginny even volunteered to play seeker to prevent you from getting on the team. We took care of that, though," Titus explained.

"How's that?" Harry asked.

"Told them we wouldn't come without our seeker. Statistically, you're having a monster year. And so are Titus and I," Jason said. Harry nodded. He didn't have the heart to tell his two friends he would have rather had the time off. But maybe this would be good for him. They hadn't steered him wrong yet. Well, they hadn't steered him wrong often. And the times they had, it had at the very least been fun.

"Thanks," he responded.

"No problem," Titus said. "Anyway, we should head out. Match is going to start without us at this rate. On the way you can tell us what happened."

"You know what happened. All the papers covered it in detail," Harry said, walking out to the pitch for the first match of the World Cup. He couldn't help but wonder, though, what had happened?

Harry tried being an Auror after the war. It hadn't lasted. After four months he knew it wasn't for him. He was sick of it. At Eighteen he was sick of dark wizards, of fighting for his life, and of being the one everyone turned to. He'd given it up by Christmas.

He didn't regret it, though. Not for a minute. Maybe, in a few more years, he'd go back to it. But everything was peaceful for now, and Kingsley was proving to be a competent Minister. He wasn't needed. And strangely, it was a good feeling.

What he regretted, though, was what that decision had led to.

He'd kept in contact with Ginny after the war. He'd spent a large portion of that summer at the Burrow. She was sweet, and he was the happiest he'd ever been. So happy, in fact, that he'd first attributed his hatred for his job to simply missing Ginny.

By Christmas he'd known for sure he hated the job. And he'd known he wanted Ginny Weasley. It had taken a great deal of persuading on his part, but Molly had finally agreed to let her spend Christmas Eve at his house.

In short, he proposed. She'd accepted. They made love all night. For Harry, it was the best night of his life. Far and away better than when he killed Voldemort.

The next day, the Weasley's were ecstatic. The Christmas party turned into an engagement party and he spent the rest of the winter holiday getting closer and closer, usually physically, to Ginny.

His depression resumed when she left. He went back to work and went through the motions, knowing full well Shacklebolt wouldn't fire him.

But even that had worked out for the best. He started playing pick-up quidditch not too long after he went back to work. The matches had simply brought out how much he loved the game. When the rumors spread that he was flying again, many of his old friends from Hogwarts stopped by to watch.

It was Oliver Wood who'd suggested he express interest in going professional. Not much longer after that, scouts started showing up at the games. Harry found himself being praised almost as much as he had when he stopped the Dark Lord. He wouldn't admit it. But he loved it. Being compared to Krum was the highlight of it all.

Things just improved from there. Winter ended surprisingly quickly, and spring shot by. Ginny expressed the same interest in becoming a professional. She declared for the draft well before him.

The media ate it up. Lovers soon to be quidditch rivals. The story was everywhere. There was a week before the draft where he and Ginny appeared on the cover of everything. He felt like he was interviewed even more than after the end of the war. And with Ginny at his side it was actually fun.

Naturally, they were invited to the draft party at the start of summer in London. They sat at a table in the middle of the frenzy, surrounded by family, and waited for names to be called. Ginny was the star. Everyone knew she would go early. The only question was how early, and to who.

Ron, of course, wanted her to go first overall to the Cannons, who had once again finished the year at the complete bottom of the standings. He wasn't the only one, either. Many of the news reports had put her in that spot. Ginny hadn't bothered to hide her contempt for that idea. But neither of them had signed an agent yet, and neither of them was old enough to really understand what talking to the media could do.

Surprisingly, the media sided with her. Many journalists reported on what a travesty it would be to see such a promising talent go to waste on such an incompetent team. That just didn't appear to be in anyone's best interest.

Harry, on the other hand, was more of a wild card. Teams knew what he was, he'd been scouted both at Hogwarts and in the simple pick-up games. But he had a year off from anything competitive. And he'd been in detention during the sixth year, suspended during fifth, and the tournament during fourth. The biggest knock on him was that he hadn't really played organized quidditch seriously since his third year. He expected to be a first rounder. But only because that year's crop of players was rather thin, and that he was Harry Potter. He hoped that he'd wind up on the same team as Ginny. That would certainly be a dream come true. But it was probably too much of a dream to ever be a reality.

Of course, entry-level contracts were for three years. After the 2001 season they'd be able to sign for the same team. If they so wished. Harry had thought about it. Ginny hadn't.

But Harry pushed that from his mind. He knew which teams were looking for a seeker. He'd done enough research on that. The Tornadoes with the second pick, the Kestrels with the fifth, and the Arrows at thirteen. He would have been fine with any of the teams. He figured the Arrows were likely the best bet. He'd even looked at real estate in Appleby on a whim.

Eventually, Edward Nimbus II, the commissioner of the British and Irish Quidditch Leagues, meandered onto the stage.

"Welcome to the ninety-eighth British and Irish quidditch draft," he said to applause from the entire audience. When they applause died down, he continued with, "The Chudley Cannons are on the clock."

Harry had also read up on the history of the leagues, mostly out of boredom in his office at the ministry. Years ago, teams simply offered players money and perks, there was no system for drafting. As a result, the teams with the wealthiest owners were typically the best. But in 1901 they instituted the draft. He and Ginny waited patiently, surrounded by Ginny's family. Only a few minutes later Commissioner Nimbus walked back across the stage.

"With the first pick in the 1999 draft, the Chudley Cannons select beater Jennifer Sommerville." She was a Hufflepuff beater Harry had heard good things about. She approached the stage, held up a Cannon's jersey and had her picture taken to much applause. When that was done continued. "The Tutshill Tornadoes are on the clock."

"Damn, she won't be a Cannon," Ron lamented.

"Thank God," Ginny commented.

"Maybe they'll take Harry in the second round!" Ron added.

"I hope not," Ginny commented. And then the conversation stopped.

Harry and Ginny waited. There wasn't much else to do. Ten minutes passed agonizingly slowly. But eventually the commissioner was back. He spoke from the center of the stage.

"The Tutshill Tornadoes have traded the second pick of the 1999 draft to the Holyhead Harpies for the ninth pick and a player to be named later," he paused for a moment. "With the second pick the Holyhead Harpies select chaser Ginevra Weasley." Harry was the first to start clapping. Ginny looked shocked. He had to help her up and push her toward the stage.

He never remembered being as happy for another person. He knew her dream had always been to be a Harpy. And the Harpies had apparently felt the same way, trading up to select her. She practically danced on the stage as she held up the Harpy jersey.

"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed as she came back to the table. She spoke more to her mother than anyone else.

"Yes it's great Ginny dear! We're all so proud of you!" Molly Weasley responded.

"Yes, congratulations," Harry said. But Ginny was still looking at her mother.

"The Harpies right away! I thought I'd have to play for some shit team for three years!" she continued.

"Yes, we're happy for you," Arthur said. Ginny continued to gush. Harry tried to interject a few times, but fiancé or not, he was simply lost in the shuffle.

She was still talking about it over an hour later when the commissioner walked across the stage once more. Harry had stopped listening. Really, everyone except for Molly had.

"And with the ninth pick of the 1999 draft, the Tutshill Tornadoes select seeker Harry Potter!" Harry looked up at hearing his name. He almost couldn't believe it. It took him a moment to get out of his seat and walk up to the stage. He shook hands with the commissioner and held up the blue tornadoes jersey for pictures. The applause wasn't nearly as loud as it had been for the first couple of picks, but Harry didn't care. As of that point, he was a professional quidditch player. The only thing that could have made the moment better, would have been if Ginny had been clapping and watching, rather than chatting with her mother.

Stepping into the fresh air made him remember just how long he'd been cooped up in that locker room. Button and Williams let out deep, contented sighs as they stared around the stadium. One hundred thousand fans greeted their arrival. The Italian team, their opponents for the first match, waited patiently on the other side of the pitch.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" the announcer yelled. Harry recognized the voice. Reginald Dickerson voiced the weekly British and Irish league match on the wireless. Apparently he'd been invited to help out for the World Cup as well. "Welcome to the 2002 Quidditch World Cup! Our first match features England and Italy."

"Alright, let's get in the air," Gwenog Jones said, not caring that she interrupted Dickerson's announcing. They each mounted their brooms and kicked into the air. "Circle around, shoot off toward center when you're announced," she added. Apparently they weren't going to get too fancy for the introductions.

"And now, the English National Team!" Dickerson yelled. "I give you Oliver Wood!" Wood shoot off down the pitch. "Titus Button, captain Gwenog Jones making her admitted final World Cup appearance, Jason Williams, Ginny Potter, Katie Bell, and Harry Potter!" Harry shot off on the broom pushing himself as fast as he could. Somewhere deep down he hoped that the faster he went, the further away from the past would get. Of course, he realized how stupid that sounded.

- Scene -

Preparing for the wedding hadn't been difficult. Harry at least appreciated that he didn't have to do much with it. Arthur helped him pick out a set of dress robes to wear. The Weasley patriarch wouldn't admit it, but Harry assumed he was under strict orders from Molly and Ginny as to what that suit should look like. But Harry was fine with that. After all, wasn't there an adage about how the wedding was the wife's day? At the very least it made his job considerably easier.

He didn't particularly like that when he finally got the new incredibly formal dress robes on he looked rather like a penguin. But if they were what Ginny wanted him to wear then he would wear it with a smile.

He and Arthur stopped for lunch at a nearby pub after they were finished shopping for the suit. Arthur had been strangely quiet for most of the day. But Harry was usually quiet, so that suited him. Still it was slightly surprising when Arthur spoke over a pint.

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Arthur asked.

"Yes I am," Harry said quickly. And he was. Ginny made him happier than anyone he'd ever known. He was more sure of Ginny than he was anything else in the world.

"But are you positive," Arthur pressed. "You're both so young. And the war is over, so you have plenty of time for a relationship. To take it slow. Don't you feel like everything is a bit rushed?"

"Not really," Harry admitted. His thoughts and fantasies focused entirely on Ginny since near the start of the sixth year. There was very little in life he was actually sure of, but he was certain about Ginny.

"Well if you're sure," Arthur said, finishing off his pint.

"You're not?" Harry asked. Arthur merely shrugged.

"She's my daughter, Harry. I probably know her better than you. And I certainly know my wife better than you. I know Ginny has thought of this day for the vast majority of her life, and I know Molly has only helped with that," Arthur explained.

"So you're worried?" Harry responded, finishing his own beer.

"Not really, if you're sure. You've just been like another son to us, and frankly, we never expected our youngest to be the second to be married," Arthur responded.

"I can see the issue with that," he responded. "But I think we're both sure about this."

"I hope you're right," Arthur said. "Now how's life at Tutshill?" Arthur asked.

"It's okay so far. First match is just after we get back from the honeymoon. I'm sure Ginny's in the same boat with Holyhead." It wasn't until he finished speaking that he realized he should probably know that already. Arthur smiled knowingly.

"Yes, she's mentioned that. Making any friends?" Arthur asked.

"Couple of the chasers are pretty cool," Harry said. "They're both free agents at the end of the year, though. So it's hard to really be too sure of anyone. Not sure if they're going to resign with the Tornadoes either."

"That could make things more difficult. But the contract is satisfactory?" Arthur asked. He knew Ginny and Harry used the same large agency. Ginny was more than thrilled with it. She'd received a very large bonus with the Harpies. Harry's contract was simply a standard entry-level deal.

"Yea I can't complain. I'm not even set to start, so I'm more than happy with it," He admitted.

"Really, they're going to keep Fredericks as the starter?" Arthur asked, referring to the Tornadoes forty-five year old seeker.

"Yea, coach Jacobs wants me to learn from him for a year before having me start. Barring injury, of course," Harry explained.

"That's probably smart," Mr. Weasley responded.

"That's what everyone's told me," Harry said. "Agent is rather adamant that it's a great idea."

"You don't think so?" Arthur asked.

"I have no idea. I just want to play, and not be a publicity attraction," Harry responded.

"Well practice hard and show them you're not," Arthur responded.

"I plan on it," Harry said.

"How is the agent?" Arthur asked.

"Can't complain. He focuses more on Ginny than me. But I'm fine with that. He's the agent for the entire Holyhead team, so I guess that's to be expected," Harry admitted.

"Not worried about being unhappy with him?"

"No. If I am, I'll fire him," Harry said. Arthur nodded. They stood to leave then, but were swarmed by a group of small children pandering for Harry's autograph. Harry obliged them, signing whatever they offered for a few moments, before returning to the Burrow with Mr. Weasley.

"And now for the Italian team!" Dickerson shouted. "We have Fendi, Campini, Terzi, Seslion, Pirelli, Rossetti, and Abbado! They're captained by Fendi serving as Keeper for the third time on the Italian national teams." Harry watched the Italians fly past on their green, white and red robes.

He'd played against a few of them in some international scrimmages before, their entire team had. In fact, a few months ago the Bats scrimmaged the same team in a friendly match. It hadn't been particularly close. The match had only lasted about twenty minutes, and the Bats won 240-30. Needless to say, the English team was favored in the match. Williams and Button flew up next to him as they waited for the signal to line up for the match.

"Going to try the spear?" Titus asked.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" Harry asked. "Show our hand in the first match?"

"Perhaps. But you only pull it off about sixty percent of the time in practice. So maybe they'll just assume you're being an idiot and saw the snitch," Jason commented.

"Well that's the entire purpose of the move," Harry commented.

"So give it a shot," Jason said.

"It's a design play though. I have to assume we're going to lose the draw or I might fly straight into Katie."

"Come on man. It's Bell against Seslion. Five silver says she doesn't have chance to win the draw," Titus bet.

"I already told you I'm not going to bet with you, Titus," Harry said. He paused for a minute and then spoke as they flew over toward the center of the pitch to line up. "Fine. I'm going to start high and right, above you Titus, and I'm going to come down to the left. Be ready to pick it up, Jason."

"Will do," Williams commented and flew off toward the wing. Harry and Titus lagged back for a moment, before he lifted up above the beater. He focused his eyes onto the official with the quaffle, waiting for the match to begin.

"And the official raises the quaffle!" Dickerson's voice boomed through the arena. Harry tensed on his broom, angling it perfectly before the start of the match. He tuned out the announcing then and waited to see the quaffle fly up into the air.

The second the official tossed the quaffle he moved the broom as quickly as he could. He banked left and flew square between the two center chasers before they could make a move on the quaffle. Both scattered, attempting to get out of his way. The Italian seeker attempted to follow him, but wound up blocked by his own chasers. The result was the quaffle fell unclaimed. At least until Williams cut under it.

The English chaser scooped it up, still using Harry as a distraction as Harry sped off toward his own hoops. He pulled up to a salute and a smirk from a laughing Oliver Wood. After a moment of scanning for the snitch he let Dickerson's commentary filter back through his head.

"What a diversion by Potter! Williams speeds down the pitch completely uncontested, a quick deke to the left and he scores low side on the right hoop! That's a very fast 10-0 to England!" Harry started to circle the pitch, scanning for the snitch. His eyes caught the Italian players. They already looked shell-shocked. Their coach should have used a time out, and let them regroup from the start. But instead he chose to let them play on. And that simply resulted in two more quick English goals.

Only then did the Italian coach choose to stop play. Harry circled back around toward Oliver as the rest of the team met on Jones. Harry knew without being present what the captain and the coach were saying. Great start, keep it up. He gazed across the pitch and let his mind clear. Of course he then saw Ginny. She had that same happy smile on her face he had loved for years. He remembered the first time he realized how much he loved that smile. Strange, how just a few years later his recollections of that day changed greatly.

When everything was falling apart he looked back on the wedding and often started his memories with the bachelor party before. The Weasley males, some old school friends, and some new teammates had him so drunk he struggled to really remember how the party ended.

No one would ever tell him, either, but he vaguely remembered a great deal of time in a magical gentleman's club.

Regardless, in one night his friends had managed to completely kill his interest in alcohol. At least large amounts of alcohol, for at least a couple of years. A pity that didn't last. Of course, his honeymoon would be a slight exception.

Looking back he realized that was the kind of things he should have been doing at eighteen and nineteen. He shouldn't have been married, he wasn't ready for it. And his wife certainly wasn't ready for it. They simply hadn't known how to make it work. Neither had been what the other expected, and there was plenty of blame on both sides of the issue.

But for a long time he'd assumed the issue was simply their mutual immaturity. He'd assumed as they grew older it would just start to work. There was no doubt in his mind that they loved each other. He figured they'd just made a mistake. That they were stupid, rushed kids who had made a large mistake. Harry always figured they'd work it out.

But now, when he looked back it was different. He barely thought of the party the night before. No, his memory of the wedding started simply on the day of.

- Scene -

"Harry get up! You need to get ready!" Molly Weasley snapped. Harry blearily opened his eyes and wondered why he'd decided to spend the night at the Burrow. It wasn't going to take him long to throw on his suit and stand next to the pastor. Of course he didn't realize it hadn't been his plan to stay at the Burrow, he'd simply wound up there at the end of the drunken party.

Naively, too, he attributed his lack of caring about how exactly he looked on his wedding day to the hangover he had ringing through his skull. He sat up and looked around, waiting for the room to stabilize itself.

His wedding. That had a strange ring to it. In his head it had always simply been the wedding. He wasn't particularly sure if he felt any different about it than he had Bill and Fleur's wedding the year before. Even the papers all refereed to it as Ginny's wedding to Harry Potter. He was a bit player. It didn't bother him, though, because Ginny was happy. And when she was happy, he found himself happy.

Regardless, he followed Molly downstairs into the kitchen. The house was already decked up for the wedding.

"Harry! You should clean yourself up. You absolutely reek of alcohol," Molly scolded. Harry just groaned and looked at her.

"Food," was all he managed to say. Molly just laughed.

"Fine, I'll make you some toast and eggs quick, sit down," she ordered, and he obeyed.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes a bit and feeling a tad queasy. He knew the food would help, though, so he waited patiently for it.

"Really, Harry. We'll be family in a couple of hours, call me Mum or Molly. And it really is no trouble," she said. Harry wasn't particularly listening. He was wondering if the pounding in his head matched his current heart rate. He hadn't even realized Molly was still talking. "I'm so happy for you and Ginny. We'll make sure this day is perfect! It seems so much like a fairy tale!" Harry was reminded of something Arthur had said, but his head hurt too much to focus too hard on thinking.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"You're quite welcome. It'll be so very nice to really have you as part of the family!" she said, putting the food down in front of him. Harry thought he agreed. But he could only remember eating. The food was delicious, as always. And he felt considerably less like the walking dead when he finished eating.

"Thanks, Molly," he said again. Realizing he'd thanked her far too much. But thanking was easy and didn't make his head hurt.

"Not a problem, Harry. I had Bill pick up your suit from your apartment. Now go wash up and get ready!" She ordered. He groaned and slowly made his way back up to the bathroom.

The shower was incredibly refreshing. Harry kept it cold, hoping that would knock out his hangover. It didn't, but it at least seemed to help. He spent much longer in the shower than he needed to, but the water felt nice and he didn't care.

Harry felt almost normal by the time he stepped out of the water. It was a very welcome relief. He spent some time drying off, brushing his teeth, and even attempting to comb his hair before he finally left the bathroom.

Ron, George and Bill waited for him in the room he'd slept in.

"Getting married, wow," Ron said as he entered the room. Harry just groaned a little bit and looked up at his best friend.

"You could always propose to Hermione," he said.

"She'd told me she wants to wait," Ron responded.

"And she's the smart one," Bill teased. "You sure you're not rushing into this, Harry?"

"Pretty sure, Bill," Harry responded. Bill shrugged a little bit.

"He's been staring at her for over two years, and she at him for nearly a decade," George teased.

"I realize that," Bill said. "It's just that you're rushing into things a bit, don't you think?"

"Ginny isn't that much younger than Fleur was, Bill," George said.

"Fleur was out of school for much longer. And had a stable job," Bill scoffed.

"Yes, but Ginny made more in her signing bonus than Fleur did in all of her years at Gringotts," Ron responded.

"That isn't the point," Bill said.

"Still, they're perfect for each other," George said. Bill shrugged a little bit. Harry wasn't sure what Bill was implying, but apparently Arthur wasn't the only Weasley expressing doubts. Harry figured that he'd just have to prove them all wrong.

"They really are," Ron said. "You two are going to be a fantastic couple!"

"Yea, I think so," Harry responded.

"I'm sure you will be," George said. "But for now let's get you into this suit."

"Very formal, isn't it?" Ron asked as they took the garment out of the magically sealed bag.

"Quite," Bill commented.

"Will go nicely with Ginny's dress, though," Ron said.

"What's that look like?" Harry asked.

"Nope," George said. "You don't get to know that until later."

"But you two will look nice together," Ron said.

"Well that's good," Harry said dryly.

"Yes it is. I take it she picked out the robes?" Bill asked.

"No. Your dad and I did. But I'm sure he was under strict instructions," Harry responded.

"That's likely a good bet," George said.

"Enough talking, let's get him into the monkey suit," Bill said. And they started to figure out the suit then. It was rather complicated to get on. Far more so than any dress robes he'd worn before. Madame Malkin hadn't had an issue. Then again, she was a professional. After about twenty minutes they had him mostly into it and thought they were doing well, at least until an ethereal voice interrupted.

"You're doing that wrong," she said.

"Oh, we are?" Bill groaned. "And I take it you know how to do it right?"

"Yes," she said. "Go help your mother set up the tent. She's wondering what's taking you so long."

"Well we better get down then," George said.

"Yea, hate to see Mom get upset today. Let's go," Ron said. The three Weasley boys left the room.

"You have experience with mens dress robes, Luna?" Harry asked, looking at the petite blonde girl in the mirror.

"Not really. It looks like they were doing fine, too. I just didn't feel like helping with the tent." She smiled. It was the first time Harry Potter has seen Luna Lovegood smile since the funeral.

"Sounds like a good idea. You look nice today," Harry said. Still looking at her in the mirror. She wore a small light blue dress and her long hair was done up in an intricate style. She blushed, a noticeable contrast with her pale skin.

"There's only one girl you're suppose to compliment today, Harry. And it isn't me," she responded.

"What Ginny doesn't know won't hurt her," Harry teased. Luna rolled her eyes.

"Oh just get into the stupid suit," she said.

"Hey I'm working on it." Harry said. And he did pretty much have it on. He lazily tied the tie around his neck to finish up.

"Really?" Luna asked, an eyebrow raised.

"What?" Harry looked in the mirror, trying to figure out what he did wrong. She simply reached up and pulled the tie off.

"Act like you care this time," she responded. He rolled his eyes once more, but this time tied it perfectly around his neck.

"Much better," Luna said, appraising him in the mirror. "You'll be the best looking person down there."

"Uh-oh. I should mess something up then. I should only strive to be the second best looking," Harry teased.

"You'd have to do a lot. You're far more attractive than Ginny," Luna teased right back, her voice becoming dreamy as she stated it like a incontestable fact. Harry couldn't help but blush.

"Erm, thanks," he said.

"You're welcome." She paused and stared at his face in the mirror for a few moments. "You're nervous, aren't you?" she asked.

"Of course. It's my wedding," Harry said. Luna cocked her head to the side and looked at him.

"Well I suppose that's a valid reason. I always assumed it was only women who got nervous on their wedding day," Luna said. "Figured men would be more sure of themselves."

"Nope. We all get nervous," Harry responded.

"Not nervous about the choice though, I hope?"

"No. Just nervous about what comes after," Harry said.

"Well the honeymoon, duh," Luna responded. "Although I've heard you're going to the Mediterranean. You should be careful. Nargles." Harry couldn't help but smile.

"That's the first mythical creature I've heard you mention since the funeral," He said. Her face fell immediately. Harry realized he probably shouldn't have mentioned the mythical aspect.

"Oh. Well. Yea," was all she said. Harry knew he'd messed up. But he wasn't sure what to say.

"Sorry," Luna said after a moment. "It's just been hard without dad anymore."

"I should be the one apologizing, Luna. You know me, thinking without speaking." He shrugged as innocently as he could. She looked up at him for a moment.

"No. I just. I don't know what to believe. I mean. Maybe Ginny was right at the funeral," Luna said, looking away. Harry noticed she had tears welling up at her eyes.

"She wasn't. But don't cry. You'll ruin your makeup!" Harry said, thinking that was a normal excuse. She started laughing.

"I'm not wearing any makeup yet, Harry," she said. "That's not coming on until later."

"Well that's good then," Harry said. He found himself glad he was getting married. He certainly wasn't any good at talking to girls. "So. How's running the Quibbler?" he asked, attempting to make conversation.

"It's okay. I think I'm going to sell it though. It's, not my cup of tea with father gone," she said. Xenophilius Loevgood hadn't lasted through the war. But they didn't learn of his death in Azkaban until after the war had ended. He just couldn't take what he thought the Death Eaters were going to do to his Luna. He never learned of her rescue from Malfoy Manor. It had taken far too long to sort out Azkaban after the war, too.

That was one of Harry's first assignments as an Auror. He'd been the one who walked into Xenophilius's cell in late may to find a withered corpse. He'd also been the one to give the news to Luna. She'd taken it well enough. A bear hug and twenty minutes of crying. Followed by more crying later.

The death of her father had changed Luna, too. Harry just assumed it was depression, but she was paler than he remembered, if such a thing was even possible, and her voice seldom possessed any dreamy quality. She rarely mentioned the creatures her father had made up. Harry vaguely remembered Hermione telling him that Luna spent a great deal of time with Hagrid and in the library during that last year of school. He could only assume she'd done research into the creatures. Really serious research. And he could only imagine how crushed she must have been to find that the only information on such species was by Xenophilius Lovegood, and often not in credible sources.

Harry often wondered which of the two of them really had it worse. He liked to think himself, having never knowing his parents, and being raised by a family that absolutely despised his very existence. He knew that it wasn't until Hermione and Ron that he understood the idea of platonic love. And it hadn't been until Ginny that he understood any idea of real love.

Luna knew love from both of her parents. Yet she'd witnessed the death of her mother at an age well before she could really comprehend it. Harry hadn't asked her for the full story, deep down he didn't really want to know. But he'd seen enough survivor's guilt in a year as an Auror that he expected the girl blamed herself for her mother's death. And then, on top of that, to know that her father rotted away in prison, worrying about her safety just couldn't be a good feeling.

Still, he thought he had it worse. His full childhood had been Hell. But he wouldn't trade places with Luna Lovegood if he was given the opportunity. They both had their baggage, to say the least.

She become, if possible, even more reserved than she already was. Even more of an outcast. She lost her purpose. Part of Harry was glad that he wasn't around to witness that. As even now, it was clear she was a shell of her old self. The other part of him wished he could have done anything to help her.

Ginny hadn't been happy that he'd missed one of their dates to spend most of the evening with Luna. But she understood once he told her the reason and they'd simply rescheduled the date for the next night.

But it was the Xenophilius's funeral that was iffy. There were quite a few that were ready to brand him a Death Eater for reporting that he had Harry Potter. Ginny and Ron were at the top of that list. Ron hadn't even gone to the funeral. But he'd never really liked or understood Luna.

Ginny hadn't wanted to go, but Harry made her. She'd stood at the back with her arms crossed near the entire time and offered next to no condolences for her friend. Skeeter had really done a wonderful job destroying what little reputation Xenophilius had left. Harry appearing at the funeral had helped a little bit. But really, he'd simply done it for Luna.

It didn't help that Ginny made some snotty comments toward the end of the service that resulted in Harry leaving early, hoping Luna didn't overhear what she said. He'd assumed that Luna hadn't heard what Ginny said. But apparently he was wrong.

"Wait. You know what Ginny said about your father at the funeral?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes," Luna nodded. "I didn't hear it firsthand, but enough people told me."

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"It's nothing you need to apologize for. I understand why she said it. I understand that it was simply emotions from a situation she couldn't quite understand. Maybe when the two of you have a family she'll realize the mistake. Until then, she was my first friend. I'm sure Ron has said things that infuriate you over the last few years. You forgive them and move on." Luna always had that way of putting things in perspective.

"So, are you the Maid of Honor then?" Harry asked.

"No. I was hoping she'd ask me. But I'm just a bridesmaid. I take it Ron is the best man?"

"Yes. He is. Hermione the Maid of Honor then?" Harry asked.

"Guess again," Luna responded. Harry was baffled then. He always associated Ginny with Hermione and Luna. He knew she and Hermione had been very close when they finished their last year of school. Of course, he also knew that was at the expense of Luna, whom Ginny ignored for most of the school year.

"I'm baffled, then," Harry said. And he really was. He started to run the faces of younger Gryffindor girls through his head, hoping that one of them would trigger anything.

"You're not the only one," Luna responded. Harry sensed she sounded hurt.

"Well who is it then?" she asked.

"Gwenog Jones," Luna responded. Harry started laughing.

"No, seriously. Who is it?"

"Gwenog Jones," Luna said dryly. Harry paused and stared at the girl.

"They've been teammates for what, two weeks? They can hardly know each other!" Harry said.

"Yes. But that's who she asked. And Jones agreed. She wanted to have the entire Harpies squad be her bridesmaids, but her mother nixed that idea.

"That's absurd," Harry responded.

"You aren't the only one who thinks so. But she's had two dreams in her life, Harry. One was to marry you, the other was to be a star on the Holyhead Harpies. She's getting both within a few weeks. It's expected she'd go overboard."

"You're very understanding," Harry observed. It was Luna's turn to ask.

"No. I just choose to believe in things most people don't. We'll see how it pans out, in the end. I'm just glad that Mrs. Weasley stepped in to remind her she had a great deal of friends she shouldn't ignore," Luna said.

"I'm just glad all I had to do was ask Ron," Harry said. Luna made a face. "I know the two of you never really got along, but he is my best friend."

"Oh I know," Luna said. "He was just a bit thick in school. Hermione should be good for him."

"She already has been," Harry said. He paused for a moment, simply staring at the girl, before he asked. "Luna, can I ask you something?"

"If you like," she responded, obviously not thinking the question would be anything personal or deep.

"Are you doing okay?" Harry asked, his voice full of concern. The younger girl paused and looked at him for a moment, before giving him one of the weakest, pained smiles he'd ever seen. He knew the answer before she spoke. But he also knew there wasn't anything he could do. Luna needed help, but it was help he was not capable of providing.

"No, Harry," she said simply. She looked up into his eyes, her own silvery-gray ones focusing on him. She raised her hand and rested it on his cheek. He had the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach, like something was just completely wrong. But it lapsed, quickly. After the briefest of moments she let her hand drop. "But I'm getting better," she finished. Harry didn't know what exactly to say. Part of him wanted to hug the girl, to hold her tightly and make everything simply go away. Part of him wanted to run.

"I'm glad you're doing better then. If you ever need anything, Luna. Make sure you ask," Harry said. He noticed Ron was gesturing to him then. He turned and smiled at the blonde as she spoke.

"Thanks, Harry. I will. It looks like you're wanted over there. I should probably figure out what I'm supposed to do now," she said, before simply walking off away from Ron. Harry watched her go for a moment before moving over toward his friend.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Harry asked.

"We're almost ready. Mom just wants to take a quick look at you before you go stand by the altar. What was up with Luna?"

"Nothing really," Harry lied. "Just catching up a bit, you know."

"Right. She's a strange one," Ron said, watching the girl go. Harry didn't have the heart to tell him that she wasn't really any different than he was. Everyone had their problems. Luna's were just more severe than most.

"Regardless, what's next on the agenda?" Harry asked.

"We have to get you married," Ron said. "Wedding is in under an hour now. Everything outside is set up. We just have to make sure you're standing there by now. Can't be that hard. I'd suggest playing a quick game of quidditch in the yard. But mum would probably kill me," Ron laughed.

"Probably. I doubt I could fly in this, anyway," Harry said.

"That may be an issue," Ron laughed.

"Well, where do they need me?" He asked.

"Nowhere yet," Ron said. "Give me a second to go change and then we should be about ready to go," Ron said. Harry nodded and simply stood in the middle of the Burrow and waited for some type of indication of where to go. A few minutes later Molly Weasley came bursting through the room.

"There you are!" She exclaimed. "Where have you been?"

"Standing here," Harry responded. Mrs. Weasley looked a tad frantic. "Am I late? Ron asked me to wait here."

"Oh no. You're fine. Where is Ron?" she asked.

"Changing," Harry responded. "He should be down soon."

"Alright, good. We're ready for you when he's done. Just come out back to the tent and we'll get everything in position," said, rushing off before Harry had a chance to say anything.

Ron returned a moment later. He wore a suit very similar to the one Harry wore and looked incredibly uncomfortable in it.

"These things are annoying. Thankfully Hermione knew how to make me look decent in it," Ron said.

"Haha," Harry intoned. "Your mother wanted us outside when we finally figured out how to get dressed."

"Well we shouldn't keep her waiting, then, should we?"

"Probably not. Let's go," Harry said and walked out back behind the Burrow.

The next hour was a blur of activity. Molly placed him near the altar and he really just watched everyone gather. People he didn't recognize approached him and offered all variety of congratulations. The wedding, quidditch, and Voldemort were the most common three that were brought up.

He spent far too long looking at the decorations. The setup was very similar to Bill and Fleur's wedding. There were many white and red roses littered around the altar and tent. Harry had noticed a fair amount of flowers and lanterns in the yard behind the tent too. They effect was a large, flowery and bright path toward the tent. The dance floor, which was also out in the yard, was surrounded by gigantic bouquets of flowers as well, each had a large magical fire floating above it to serve as a light. Harry couldn't wait to see just what that would look like in the dark.

Harry replied as nicely as he could, feeling more and more nervous with each passing minute. But there wasn't much he could do past wait, near the altar next to his best man. His eyes scanned the crowd as people started to fill up the area. Harry noticed that Gabrielle Delacour looked crushed as she stared up at him. He gave her a weak smile. He hadn't seen Fleur all day, but he assumed she was spending it with Bill.

Hermione, Luna, and Gwenog all wore similar pale blue dresses and stood across the altar from Harry and Ron. Hermione and Luna smiled at him, Gwenog simply looked around, looking mostly unconcerned. Photographers were quick to snap her picture though. Some even tried to interview her, mostly with questions about Ginny's potential with the Harpies.

Finally, the music started to play. Harry closed his eyes and took a very deep breath. He counted to five in his head before opening his eyes.

Ginny filled his vision. She was all he could focus on. She wore an intricate white off the shoulder dress with large ruffled skirts on the bottom. Her face was covered by the translucent veil. He could tell her eyes were locked onto his. Harry could hardly breathe as he stared at her. She moved so very slowly down the aisle. Harry couldn't wait for her to get there.

When she finally stood next to him in front of the altar Harry couldn't remember a happier moment in his young life. The pastor, a different one that had done Bill and Fleur's wedding, started the ceremony.

Harry couldn't remember exactly what was said. In the end, the pastor's words weren't any different than what comes out at most weddings. He referenced the usual commitments and requirements of married couples and life. Even the reporters there didn't write about the ceremonial words. Instead, they referenced how it felt like nothing on the Earth could possibly break the gazes of the two young lovers. Their fixed stares lasted through the entire ceremony.

They then promised to love and cherish each other through any circumstance for the rest of their lives. They vowed to always be there for each other, and to always be good to each other. They exchanged little stories of how much and why they loved each other. By the end of Harry's tale of how, while hunting for Horcruxes he could only think of Ginny's well being and hope she was safe, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Even Harry's eyes welled with tears as he spoke of how whenever they encountered anyone fleeing Death Eaters the only thing he could think to ask was the fate of Hogwarts and Ginny.

Ginny's vows were touching, but they were lost in the shuffle with the sheer raw emotion that came from Harry.

"You may now kiss the bride." Finally, Harry heard the words he'd longed to hear for months. He smiled brightly and carefully reached toward her. He lifted the veil over her head and then he saw it. The gorgeous smile of sheer happiness that he would long to see in the years to come. The smile that could melt his heart and convince him to do nearly anything.

He stared at his bride for a moment, before he pressed his lips against hers. It was far from a chaste wedding kiss but he didn't care. He kissed her like he was alone in his bedroom with her. And the crowd loved it.

The match was quickly getting out of hand for the Italian team. Harry shifted his broom, cutting very closely to an Italian chaser, which caused the player to drop the quaffle. It was quickly picked up by Williams, who tossed it to Bell, who feed Ginny for an easy goal. Harry's eyes glanced up to the scoreboard quickly. 140-40 was a promising start. But it meant he still had to be on high alert. Although, with how the chasers were playing. He doubted he'd have to worry for much longer. Granted, the Italian seeker Abbado wasn't doing much more than following him around. And Harry was confident he could out-fly him without much difficult.

Still, he reflected. The wedding had been fun. Especially after the kiss. Even with how things turned out, it was still one of the happiest days of his life. The dancing had been a blast. He rather fondly remembered shoving a piece of cake into Ginny's face, and receiving a piece of cake shoved into his own face.

He'd even enjoyed the various other dance partners he'd had throughout the day. When Mr. Weasley snagged Ginny from him, he took a turn with Molly. And that wound up far more fun than it sounded. He didn't keep track of all of his dances, but he did wind up dancing with three of the Harpies, his wife excluded, Hermione, one of his new teammates at the Tornadoes and both Fleur and Gabrielle. Really, the entire night was fantastic. And only got better as it went on. When they finally apparated back to his apartment, they were both giddy and exhausted. In short, the night had been one of the best in either of their lives.

But it was strange how, despite all of the fun he had, his memories of that day changed so very quickly. For years, he'd focused on Ginny walking down the aisle toward him. And kissing his brand new wife. Followed by fantastic memories of twirling her petite frame around the dance floor. And clumsily stepping on her feet on occasion. But he'd become a better dancer with time. Forced party attendance would do that.

Still, those weren't the memories he was drawn back to as he started to think about the wedding. He remembered concern about the match from just about everyone. That stuck out more in his head with each passing day. In addition, he thought about his quiet conversation with Luna. It was strange to think about that now. Their conversation resonated through the years. He'd worried about her safety as much as anyone else. He'd tried to write her on occasion, but the responses were few and far between, and he was busy with other things.

As he turned his broom to head to the other end of the pitch he saw Ginny score two more goals. Once on a great feed from Jason, the next off of a steal. He had to give the girl credit. They'd been rubbish at marriage, but she could certainly play chaser.

Still, Luna would have to wait. She disappeared from his life after the wedding, and he'd been too busy to with life to spare her as much thought as he could. He knew she'd sold the Quibbler shortly after the wedding to one of the long time writers. After that, as far as he could tell, she'd left England. The owl he and Ginny bought had been able to find her easily enough, so she wasn't hiding. But they didn't know where she'd run off to.

It didn't help that Ginny didn't care. And Harry didn't think it was worth it to get into a fight over Luna. They fought about enough after the wedding, that just seemed like one too many straws. Still, the honeymoon was fun. But he should have known then.

They only managed to get five days off from the rookie quidditch schedules. So they hadn't decided on a very elaborate honeymoon, but rather just a quick vacation to southern France. They'd planned to simply laze around the beaches, eat together at swanky French places with menu's they didn't understand, and make love as much as possible.

And that wasn't far off from what they did. It was pleasant. They booked an incredibly expensive room with a fantastic view of the sea and they spent every waking moment with each other. Exploring each other.

It was wonderful. But it was also intensely physical. Everything they did was guided almost solely by physical parameters. Harry didn't know the difference then, hell, he barely knew the difference now.

Even when they were out during the day it was surprising how little meaningful conversation they had. Most often, Ginny simply gushed about the Harpies and Harry sat there feeling lost, confused, and like he wasn't nearly a good enough teammate because he couldn't recall the intricate details of the tornadoes.

And, as far as Harry was concerned, she spent far too much time talking about Gwenog Jones. Harry remembered hoping that she wouldn't bring the poster from her bedroom with her to their new apartment, even though they hadn't decided just where to live yet. It concerned him that she still talked about spending time at the Burrow, almost as if she had no intention of ever leaving. Like she expected him to simply move into her bedroom there.

But even when their Quidditch related topics moved on to things he could discuss, he found he simply didn't really want to. Granted, they had excellent debates on strategy and tactics, but it wasn't exactly the most romantic conversations.

They also talked of memories from the war. Those conversations were better, but often they revolved around one of them just endlessly asking questions about the others time. Ginny wanted to know every detail of his time wandering around the forests. Including the time when her brother left Harry and Hermione. She was particularly worried about that Christmas holiday they'd spent in Godric's Hallow. Harry could tell she just didn't think that nothing had happened after the encounter with Nagini.

But nothing had. Well, apart from losing his wand and feeling completely and hopelessly lost. Hermione had been a great friend that day. A far better friend than her brother could have ever dreamed of being. But that was it.

When he asked her about what seventh year was like he often got the same stories he'd heard from Neville. Strangely, Ginny embellished them a bit more than Neville had.

She also completely refused to accept the fact that Snape wasn't evil. Harry promised himself he'd show her the memories once. He was forced to admit, though, that in her shoes it would have been hard to accept too. The man kept up a façade good enough to make the students seriously despise him. Of course, perhaps it wasn't all a façade, but regardless, the man was smart enough to know that detention with Hagrid wasn't going to be that big of a deal for a bunch of Gryffindors.

Still, conversation about the war always ended in the same place. Eventually, regardless of what they did, one of them brought up Fred, Lupin or Tonks, and neither of them was quite ready to deal with that yet. It made conversation more difficult.

They had a hard time talking about their interests, mostly because they weren't really sure of their own interests yet. They both did discover a new interest in dining on the honeymoon. But Ginny wasn't quite as adventurous as Harry. Still, they had plenty of fun eating random French things.

They also discovered that they rather liked wine. A couple bottles a night kept them rather busy, and rather amused with each other. They may have gotten a tad carried away, but it wasn't like they had anywhere to be in the morning. Hell, they didn't even need to be awake in the morning.

And really, they both had plenty of fun. More fun than they could remember. And at the time, neither of them realized that something was missing from the relationship. And while they didn't have a large variety of things to talk about, they knew that would come in time. At the time, they were both simply incredibly happy. They loved spending time with each other. And there wasn't a doubt in their minds that they weren't head-over-heels in love with each other.

So really, it started out fantastic. A beautifully planned wedding that turned into a blissful day, followed by five amazing days in the French Riviera. Neither of them could find a single thing wrong with it. They'd fondly remember those six days through the good and the bad. Even now, Harry still couldn't help but smile at some of the memories.

His favorite, which he thought of nearly every warm sunny day, was Ginny frantically hiding from the sun, worried that the sun-protection charm wasn't working properly, and fearful of being turned into a lobster before the team photo when she returned.

But really, it had been a fantastic start to a new life. He couldn't complain about the beginning. It was the middle where the problems started, and the end where it all fell apart.

"Earth to Harry," Titus said, flying up next to him. Harry blinked a little bit, paused and looked around the stadium. He'd maintained his focus, shutting out every part of the world that wasn't a golden snitch.

"Italians called another time out?" He asked.

"Yes. Took me five seconds to catch up to you. You're scary when you're in the zone, you know."

"I'm surprised you didn't bet five silver that it'd take you longer than that," Harry joked.

"I was tempted. But I dislike bets I can control the outcome of," he responded.

"What's the score?" Harry asked, changing the topic back to the game.

"240-80," Titus responded. "And we're all getting bored. So find the damn snitch and end it."

"But it's such a nice day. I figured I'd fly around for a bit more. See if I can work on a tan," Harry said.

"Worry about that later. For now, get England a World Cup win," Titus ordered.

"Fine," Harry said. "But you're buying dinner if I catch the snitch, remember."

"That only applies to league games," Titus laughed. "But fine. Let's go." He turned and flew back toward the rest of the team as play resumed.

Harry focused in once more. He traced around the arena quickly, pushing his broom harder than he had before. The Italian seeker struggled to keep the pace. Harry just forced himself around the pitch. Looking over every possible angle, making sure he didn't miss a single inch of the stadium.

It wasn't long before he spotted the golden ball, fluttering lazily down by the ground. It couldn't have been more than a few feet from the grass. He spun his broom around and angled himself into a corkscrewing dive until he had the line he wanted. The best part was he knew the Italian wouldn't even bother to follow. He'd just assume it was a feint.

"And Potter dives!" Dickerson announced for everyone in attendance, and hundreds of thousands who weren't to hear. "It looks like a feint! Abbado isn't taking the bait. He's just watching from up high, still scanning for the snitch!" So apparently the Italian Seeker wasn't the only one to assume it was a feint. Harry just smirked as the golden ball came closer and closer. His path put him down a few feet behind it, he'd level out and snatch it at full speed. The ground coming quickly up on him didn't even phase him at this point. He was a professional, after all. He'd hit it enough trying maneuvers. He wouldn't mess up here.

Sure enough, at the perfect instant he pulled out of the dive, shot right by the snitch, grabbing it quickly in his right hand. There was no applause, no whistle, no anything. The beaters and chasers played on. Harry flew up toward the press box and leveled out next to Dickerson's announcing booth.

"I found something," He said, holding up the snitch.

"I don't believe it! It wasn't a feint. Potter has the snitch! England wins! 400-80! An incredible performance by the English team!" Harry tossed the snitch to an official who flew over to confirm everything.

Then he braced himself. He knew what was coming next. Sure enough, Titus and Jason flew square into him. Embracing him as they did after every win. Shouting, cheering, and all together making too much noise. Oliver followed. Katie hovered a few feet away, not sure if she should join in the celebration.

Gwenog and Ginny, however, simply flew up and offered brief, token, congratulations. Harry just gave them a curt nod as they flew back to the locker room. Katie followed them. He knew they'd clear out well before he, Titus and Jason stopped celebrating on the pitch.

But he didn't care. England dominated the first game. Sure, the Italians were likely the weakest team they'd meet in the World Cup, but a win was a win. Frankly, it was a good start. And it was time to move on to the middle and the end.

Author's note: I dislike using the scene breaks. But it seemed essential since FF doesn't allow for spaces in the text, apparently. I may experiment with other methods for doing it, but for now I think this works. Also, this assumes everything that happened in the series happened, excluding the epilogue. I could find nothing mentioned of Luna's father after the series. I realize my portrayal of her here will probably not be everyone's cup of tea. But please stick with me, I think you'll like it more in the end. It does have a purpose, but I need to cover other things before I can get to that.

I came up with this based largely on the idea that my other story is nearly an homage to Formula One, so why not do something that closely mirrors my other favorite sport, Baseball. I'd originally planned something based more on Bull Durham but it didn't particularly plan out. This is planned to be six chapters and about 60,000 words. So by no means long. The title is also likely to change. But I haven't thought of something I like yet.

One of my betas also informed me that the author 'Jbern' did something similar to this. I've not read it, or any of his work, but have heard nothing but good things about it. So if you enjoy this you may enjoy that. I'll probably read his once I finish mine, but not before.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy this. Updates on it will likely not come until I finish Letters. I may write chapter two before then. But it'll depend on how the other fic goes.

2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm making no money and I own nothing.

Acknowledgments: Onichun and Commalies2003 for their continued beta work.

Chapter Two

South Africa

The team breakfast before the second match was as tense as always. Harry, Titus, and Jason sat in one corner of the table, while Ginny and Gwenog sat at the opposite end. Between the two distinct groups sat the other team members, who tried their best to remain neutral. Although the girls tended to side with Ginny, and the guys tended to side with Harry. Still, halfway through the tense breakfast, Jason turned to Harry and said.

"You'd think some extra-marital discrepancies wouldn't bother her so much."

"I didn't cheat on her," Harry said, before pausing for a moment. "Well, until it was already over."

"I believe that still counts as cheating," Titus commented.

"You're not helping," Harry retorted.

"I'm not trying to help," Titus responded before taking a large sip of orange juice. "I'm trying to win the World Cup for England."

"How does talking about my marriage help to accomplish that?" Harry asked.

"It doesn't. But it keeps me entertained between matches." Titus shoveled some eggs into his mouth.

"Is it really that entertaining?" Harry asked, before eating some of his own breakfast.

"Didn't you notice how it was a cover story for quite some time?" Jason teased. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I tried to not read the paper," he admitted. He had noticed. But he didn't want to see what was being said about him. He'd had enough of that during the war.

"Well it was everywhere," Jason commented. "But strangely, you never gave your side of the story. There are quite a few people who wonder if everything she said really was true. You two went from the perfect couple, to at each other's throats very quickly."

"I'm sure our stories wouldn't differ that much," Harry responded, although he knew quite the opposite.

"Well tell us," Titus said. "We've got time." Again Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Jason was there for the start of it. He should be able to tell you," Harry said. Jason looked rather surprised by that.

"I was?" He asked. "I don't recall."

"My first year with the Tornadoes," Harry said. "That's really when it all started. Although I didn't realize it at the time."

"That early?" Jason commented. "And sorry, but I don't really remember your first year. We missed the playoffs and the Tornadoes didn't want to write me a larger check, so I bolted to the Bats. All I really remember you doing is following Fredericks around."

"Well that's all I really did. But more happened than just quidditch."

"Do share," Titus responded.

"Fine. But only to get you two to shut up," Harry groaned. He hadn't really wanted to revisit these events. A few months ago he doubted he'd have been able to talk about it. But things had changed for the better.

His first year at the Tornadoes had been incredible. He and Ginny lived in Grimmauld place at that point, although that likely wasn't going to last much longer. They were both sick of the magical travel to practice every day and hoped for better accommodations.

Fredericks, the ageing seeker, announced before the season that it would be his final one. Not everyone in the quidditch world believed him, but Harry was determined to learn as much from the elder statesman as he could. The older seeker seemed eager enough to help, too. They spent nearly every practice together. Fredericks showed him a variety of things, from how to execute certain maneuvers on the broom, to how to create effective hand signals during the match. It never occurred to Harry that he could be a team captain, though, so he didn't pay as much attention to the last bit as he probably should have.

The first season came far too quickly. He wasn't ready, but thankfully, he didn't have to start. Fredericks continued to tutor him, and he felt like he learned a lot from simply watching.

He became friends, albeit not very good friends, with some of his teammates. Unfortunately, free agency, retirement, and his final year at the Tornadoes would hinder most close relationships. But he didn't particularly notice. Harry was completely happy with his home life with Ginny. Of course, it wasn't until years later that he realized his home life should have been another gigantic red flag.

But it had seemed so fun and so loving. It had seemed so perfect. He just hadn't been ready for it. And neither had she.

Ginny and Harry usually arrived home around the same time after their practices, sometimes flooing directly into each other. It was different if they had matches. Then their schedules didn't align quite perfectly. Especially if one or the other was on the road for an extended period of time, as teams tended to prefer to be around each other for away matches. At first, they both hated those nights. But as time passed, they'd find solace in them.

But on nights where they were otherwise unhindered by matches, they'd either head out somewhere in London to eat, or have a nice meal at home prepared by Kreacher, who still wore the locket around his neck. Ginny hated the elf, but she hid most of her disdain for the creature because it did start to do all of the household chores around Grimmauld Place. Harry really wasn't sure what to do with the elf. He figured he'd just leave him in charge of the Black family home when he and Ginny bought their own place.

During the meal Ginny would talk on and on about how wonderful everything was at the Harpies. She'd bonded rather closely with Alicia Spinnet, who had been drafted a few years before them, and recently resigned with the Harpies. They were apparently developing excellent chemistry on the chaser line, and would start on opposite wings when the season would finally begin.

After the daily briefing on how the Holyhead Harpies chasers were shaping up, he was treated to a daily briefing of how awesome Gwenog Jones was. The specifics varied from day to day. But it was usually about the amazing bludger she hit to completely open op the opposing defense. Or the amazing bludger she hit to completely break up one of the Harpies incredibly exceptional attacking patterns. Or how amazingly easy she was to work with as a captain. Harry couldn't help but worry again that she'd want her Gwenog Jones poster to move with her. At least she hadn't brought it to Grimmauld Place.

Harry didn't particularly care, but he listened intently, as any good husband would, and made appropriate comments when Ginny paused for effect. She seemed thrilled. Usually, her quidditch happenings of the day would be over by about the time they'd finish their meal, so they'd relax in the sitting room. That typically entailed cuddling in front of the fire.

She'd ask him about his day, then. He usually didn't have much to say. He'd typically start off with talking about whatever he and Fredericks had worked on during practice. But Ginny had little interest in sharp turning angles, feints, predicting snitch moves, and ideal cornering apexes to stay on the perfect line to chase down the snitch. Harry could tell he lost her interest very quickly. But she at least faked being amused.

She was, however, more interested in the antics of one of the chasers and the beaters. Jason Williams, who, truth be told, got on Harry's nerves, and Felicity Hillard seemed content to find new ways to irritate each other every practice. It was sort of a running gag on the team. Ginny's questions shifted from how his day way, to whoever pulled off their prank that day.

But he was happy he could keep her entertained. She ever offered some suggestions, undoubtedly learned from her brothers, and Harry relayed them to his teammates. Usually siding with Felicia in the arguments. Although, that was mostly because Ginny usually had a better counter for Jason's tactics.

It probably should have worried him that all they ever really talked about was their sport. But they were both so thrilled at being professionals that it never occurred to them to discuss something else. He figured that most married couples probably discussed their days with each other when they came home for dinner. So what if his and Ginny's consisted almost entirely with playing a game?

After that they would head up to the master bedroom and continue with the physical side of their married life. Harry wouldn't hesitate to admit it was his favorite part of the day. And, judging from her reactions, Ginny enjoyed it quite a bit too.

They'd fall asleep shortly after. The alarm would ring all too soon in the morning. Often times they'd share a shower out of general laziness, or general enjoyment of each other's bodies, whichever seemed like the better excuse at the time. They'd have coffee and breakfast, usually eating in the kitchen. Harry would feign interest in the paper. It seemed more important to read in his brief stint as an Auror. Eventually, they'd floo off to their respective practice fields and the routine would continue.

The year continued in that manner. Personally, Harry was rather sick of the quidditch talk after the first few months. But it still seemed to be all that Ginny wanted to talk about. She soon forgot that he, too, was a professional player. Apparently reserves didn't measure up much on her scale of importance.

The season started very well for the Harpies. They quickly jumped into first place, and stayed there for a good portion of the season. Ginny meshed very well on their chaser line. The early season reports made her out as a lock to win the Rookie of the Year award, and was in discussion for the league M.V.P.

Harry, on the other hand, watched the Tornadoes flounder. They'd made the playoffs the year before, but a year older and a year slower didn't really help their cause now. It really hurt that Fredericks appeared to be suffering early in the season. He just couldn't keep pace with some of the faster seekers.

The first half of the season continued in that way. At least until the Harpies started to struggle. Other teams had figured out ways to counter their attack, and the Harpies didn't react very well. Ginny was almost unbearable after five consecutive tough losses. The exuberance at playing professionally vanished all too quickly. Instead, she started to complain about nearly everything related to the team. It was clear she knew exactly what was wrong, and that everyone was to blame. Well, everyone but her.

Harry didn't really listen to her complaints. Instead, he spent more time studying plays and opposing teams. Many of the publicans out of Tutshill made it clear that Fredericks shouldn't be starting, and that they should give Harry a chance. Coach Jacobs had denied any comment that the team would consider that. Still, Harry wanted to make sure that he was prepared.

It wouldn't occur to him until later that it was also this time when Ginny stopped asking him how his day was, and rather simply focused on everything that went wrong in her day. At the time, though, Harry didn't notice. The rest of their routine stayed the same though, so Harry didn't mind so much.

"That's interesting and all," Jason Williams commented as he pulled on the English jersey. "But it doesn't really tell us anything."

"I think interesting is being generous," Titus Button added. He'd already changed and was spinning his bat around menacingly. "I don't really care that you and Ginny screwed like rabbits."

"I dunno, I thought that was the best part," Jason commented. "I mean she looks like she'd be fun."

"Can we not talk about my ex wife?" Harry asked, taking the moment to pull his own jersey over his head.

"Well you didn't give us much else to go with," Titus said. He put his bat down and started to strap on a few of the pads.

"Hey, I didn't say the story was interesting," Harry said. "You're the ones that wanted to hear my version of the events."

"You have a point," Jason said, before gazing over Harry's shoulder at Titus. "Did you do anything entertaining last night?"

"Not really," Titus responded. "The blonde at the bar wanted no part of me. At least I think she didn't. Her English wasn't particularly good. You?"

"Nothing," Jason said. "You know I have bad experiences with drinking before big matches. I just went to bed early."

"Well that's a shame. Guess we're going to have to deal with Harry's crappy story," Titus said. The beater stretched quickly before picking up his bat and broom. Jason did the same.

"Yea. Guess we have to. Let's make him continue during the warm-ups. Just do me a favor, Harry?"

"What's that?" Harry asked as he picked up his own broom. He examined the twigs carefully, making sure everything was in good condition for the match ahead.

"Get to the part where the Tornadoes stopped sucking that season. It's more interesting to remember how we won games rather than the nice 290-40 loss to Chudley," the chaser joked. But that game had left a mark on the psyche of the team. After it, Jason had told the media there was no way he was staying with the Tornadoes.

"I was getting to that point," Harry said as the three of them made their way out to the pitch before the rest of the team. For the first time as part of the National team Harry didn't notice Ginny's cold glare as he walked past.

The loss to Chudley had marked the low point of the Tornadoes season. The best thing the players could say about it was that it hadn't lasted long. They'd been completely demolished in just about every aspect of the game. Jason had scored three of the teams four goals completely unassisted.

Watching from the bench had been painful enough for Harry, he could only imagine what the players thought from down below. All he knew was that by the time the match had ended the team was done. Coach Jacobs didn't say a word to the players after. He didn't need to. They'd just been embarrassed by the worst team in the league. It would come out later that Jacobs had fully expected to be fired following the match. The team expected it too when the owner and general manager called him into a meeting. But the Tornadoes general manager hadn't gone that far.

The team wouldn't discover that for a few days, though. They had two off days before their next practice and match. Harry changed quickly and went home. Ginny wasn't there. She'd left a note saying she was going out with Alicia that evening.

He'd already set up some appointments to look at houses in Tutshill the next day, and Holyhead the day after. He could think of nothing better to do than call it an early night.

Harry was a bit concerned when Ginny wasn't home the next morning. But he figured something came up. There wasn't any sign of her having even come home, though, which felt wrong. Still, he didn't think he could gain anything from being mad at her, so he just had Kreacher make breakfast. He waited as long as he could, but when she hadn't returned a few minutes before he was suppose to meet with the real estate agent in Tutshill, so he took the floo to her office.

The day wasn't really that bad, except that the agent kept flirting with him. Something he was sure she wouldn't have done had Ginny been there. He took ample notes on each home they looked at. He found two that would be suitable for he and Ginny, and he figured, assuming she showed up, that they'd find something nice in Holyhead as well.

Ginny was home when he returned. She greeted him with a kiss, but he couldn't help but ask.

"So where were you?"

"Oh, nowhere special. Just got a tad too tipsy with Alicia, crashed at her place," she admitted. Harry nodded his understanding.

"You missed our Tutshill real estate tour," he added. Ginny just shrugged.

"I'm not going to move to Tutshill," she commented offhandedly. It was the first Harry had heard of that.

"Oh?" he said, figuring biting his tongue and waiting for an explanation would be a better idea than acting angry. He didn't like the thought that he'd completely wasted a day. Especially a day when he'd been trying to do something he thought they both wanted.

"We'll have better luck in Holyhead, anyway," she continued. "And I get an extra thousand galleons a year if I live in Holyhead." Harry didn't feel like bringing up that he was pretty sure had the same clause in his contract for Tutshill.

"Well, are we still looking there tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Of course," she responded as if that completely ended the matter. Harry didn't have the heart to fight with her about it. So he did all he could think of doing. He went to bed with her, and woke up with her the next morning. They arrived in Holyhead shortly after, prepared to look into houses. Ginny took a few minutes, though, to point out all her new favorite restaurants and shops since she'd become a Harpy.

The first house they looked at wasn't much. Ginny looked immediately put off. Harry had thought the plan had been to buy something they could afford on their rookie salaries. But apparently that went out the window when Ginny asked.

"Do you have anything bigger and, well, nicer?" The agent looked startled, but reacted like a professional.

"Of course. It's probably more than you were looking for, though," the agent said.

"Try us," Ginny responded rather snottily. And so the agent led them to a phenomenal three story building in the heart of Holyhead. Harry could tell Ginny loved it immediately.

It grew on him too after seeing it. Inside it was fully furnished. It had multiple bedrooms, and reminded him quite a bit of a cheerful, slightly Muggle designed, Grimmauld place. It was certainly brighter, and more encompassing. The tour of the house was very nice. He liked the house. But he wasn't sure it was what they needed. And he knew it would be much more than they had wanted to spend.

"We love it," Ginny said, speaking for him. Although it was growing on him as he looked around. But it seemed excessive. "How much is it?" The agent told them. Harry winced a little bit at the price.

"That's more than we wanted to spend," he admitted. But Ginny pouted adorably.

"But it's perfect!" she said. "And it has room for our kids and a great location!"

"Yes, it's very nice, but we can't afford it," he said.

"I can knock off a couple thousand galleons," the agent commented. "And it does come fully furnished."

"See! And you can afford it easily," Ginny scoffed. "Just use some of the fortune Sirius left you."

"That's kind of against the point of having a place we earned ourselves," Harry commented. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"That was a fancifully dumb idea. Harry, this house will be perfect. Let's buy it!" He realized immediately that there would be no 'us' in the equation. It would entirely be him. But he had the money, he supposed. And if he ran short he could likely get another fortune for Grimmauld Place. And he wanted to make Ginny happy. He'd dealt with travel from London to Tutshill every day. So what if magical travel was still disorienting and wearing. How much worse could Holyhead to Tutshill be?

"Alright," he said, although he still felt slightly betrayed. "We'll take it." And with three simple words he became the proud new owner of a house in Holyhead. But, at the very least, Ginny was happy.

"Whatever happened to that house in Holyhead?" Titus asked as he tossed a quaffle lazily back to Jason.

"Yea I remember a girlfriend telling me about the tour Ginny gave for some magazine," Jason added, tossing the quaffle back toward Harry. He caught it easily and lobbed it at Titus. They'd already flown around for their warm up and had decided to just play catch. Williams should have probably been helping Oliver warm up, but the other chasers were giving him all they had.

"I believe Ginny still lives in it," Harry commented. That was the last he'd heard of it, anyway.

"You just gave it to her?" Jason asked. "After paying for it with your inheritance?"

"Yes," Harry responded. "Didn't really want it anyway. Seemed rather useless to fight for. And by giving it to her she had no claims on Grimmauld Place."

"She shouldn't have had any claim on it," Titus said, throwing the quaffle back to Jason.

"The deed was in both our names. Seemed easier just to let it go," Harry admitted. It had been the least of his worries at the time. Ginny had wanted much more than the house. By giving it up he gave her very little claim on anything else.

"Well that's bullshit," Titus said.

"I didn't really have any use for it anyway. Not like I was going to live in Holyhead year round after everything happened," Harry admitted.

"Hell, you don't even live in Ballycastle all year now," Jason commented. It was true. He had moved back into Grimmauld Place shortly after everything went down. He spent the off season in London now. Although he could see that changing in the future.

"Yea, but you could have made a nice chunk of change selling it," Titus interjected.

"I could have. But I'll make enough money to make up for it with the Bats."

"Especially if you keep playing like you started the year," Jason added. "Its nice being comfortably up this early in the season."

"I guess," Titus shrugged. Ballycastle were perennial contenders, so he was accustomed to it. "I'm more worried about the playoffs, honestly."

"I'm only worried about the harpies in the finals," Harry admitted.

"You've already beaten them before," Jason commented.

"Woah now," Titus teased. "Getting ahead of yourself aren't you? The Tornados just got their asses kicked by Chudley before he decided to bore us to tears with house buying. It looks like we have some time before the South Africans are ready to go, so let's see if he can actually get to being made the starter before we play here, we can go into the glory days later." Harry rolled his eyes and rifled the quaffle as hard as he could at the beater. But Titus caught it with ease as he continued his story.

He'd gone into the Tornadoes locker room the next morning knowing full well the news of Harry Potter buying a manor in Holyhead was all over the papers. There wasn't much more he could do other than deal with the glares he received from his new teammates.

"Supporting the Harpies, eh?" Jason had said, rather hollowly. Harry just shrugged.

"Wife won the argument. Perhaps if you didn't have a girl in every city you'd understand," he responded. He'd intended for it to be joking, but it hadn't come off like that. For a moment, he thought Williams was going to hit him. But he was saved by the coach.

"Potter, Fredericks, my office," Jacobs said from the door of it. Harry just nodded and moved as quickly away from Jason as he could. He ducked into the coach's small office. Jacobs gestured for him to sit at one of the two chairs in front of his desk. Harry sat it in the one furthers from the door. Fredericks came in and immediately sat in the other one. The older seeker spoke first.

"I've been around long enough. I know what this is about," he said, leaning back in the chair and looking otherwise uncomfortable.

"Good. Makes it easier then," Jacobs said. "You've been one hell of a seeker, but the GM wants to go younger. You already said you're done at the end of the year. We're out of it now. They want to give the kid a shot."

"I understand," Fredericks said. Harry didn't think he really looked like he did, but at the very least he wasn't arguing. "You releasing me, or keeping me around?"

"We'd like to keep you around to help him," Jacobs said with a nod toward Harry. "But we're willing to discuss other options if you rather be let go. The general manager told me that they're willing to offer you a front office, or assistant coach position next season."

"I'll hang around then. I'll talk to him about that myself. You want to talk to Harry alone?"

"Please." Fredericks nodded at the coach and stood to leave the office. When he had gone, Jacobs looked back at Harry. "Well I trust you've figured out what that's about."

"Yea. I think I got it." Harry nodded. He could feel the butterflies forming in his chest. Sure, the season was already a loss, but he was going to get his chance.

"Good. I won't keep you long then. I assume you want to leave some tickets and send some messages before the game. We're playing Appleby tonight. Their seeker is pretty good, she's incredible-" Jacobs was talking, but Harry interrupted him.

"She's incredible at cork screw turns and finding quick routes to the snitch. She's susceptible to feints, but will ignore them if overused. She dislikes getting involved in chases feeling she can predict the path better and just cut you off before the snitch. She hates being blocked. I read the scouting reports," Harry explained. He'd read them almost as soon as he'd been drafted. He'd probably need to reread them at some point, just to make sure. But he hadn't known what the team would expect of him. So he'd come prepared.

"Well done," Jacobs said. "Well off with you. Practice in an hour." Harry just nodded and left the office.

He changed quickly into his uniform. The other players were lazing around, eating breakfast, or really just occupying themselves before the match. Harry ducked out of the locker room and moved to the ticketing office, where he left as many tickets as he could for friends and family. He couldn't help but think of how lucky he was that the Harpies didn't play that night, or have a practice. He smiled at the thought that Ginny would be able to watch him play in his first match.

"I forgot about that!" Jason laughed, nearly rolling off of his broom as he did. "I did want to hit you. You were a bit of a stick in the mud. I like single Harry more."

"Well I wanted to do things with my wife," Harry responded dryly.

"Jason has a point though. I didn't really know you then. But you did have a reputation of not really doing anything. I was surprised when you started drinking with me," Titus added.

"Well, things changed," Harry said dumbly.

"Yea," Jason teased. "He realized his wife was going out and having fun with her friends rather than devoting herself to him. So he got annoyed." Harry glared at the chaser, but knew that wasn't far off. Harry noticed the team was starting to line up for the game. The South Africans were already in position.

"I wonder if they'd start with us just hanging out in a circle over here rather than just come and tell us to play," Harry asked.

"Probably," Titus laughed. "They hate that we're on the team anyway."

"We'll just have to show them how good we are then," Jason commented as he turned his broom around and started to fly over toward his wing.

"Indeed," Titus said before turning to Harry. "End this one quickly, though. I'm tired and have a date with a hot local tonight."

"I thought you said the girl at the bar wasn't interested."

"She wasn't. But the girl outside the bar was," Titus smirked and flew to lineup opposite of Gwenog Jones. Harry positioned himself about halfway between the hoops and the other starters. He floated up a little bit into the air and stared across at the opposing seeker. He figured he'd line up and start this match exactly as he had his first.

"And in a last minute line-up change, playing Seeker tonight for the Tutshill Tornadoes, Harry Potter!" Reginald Dickerson's voice filled Tutshill's stadium. Harry zoomed past the other players and circled around once out of pure adrenaline. The game wasn't going to be broadcast that night, but when the media outlets found out Harry Potter was playing, that changed.

He circled around once more and gazed into the stands. He saw quite a few of the people he'd left tickets for, which made him smile a bit. Nearly every Weasley had shown up. Fleur had even purchased what appeared to be a Tornadoes Harry Potter jersey. He had to admit, it looked completely wonderful on her. It looked like she'd brought Gabrielle too, who was wearing a matching jersey.

He didn't see Ginny though. But he figured she probably just drew the short end of the stick and had to buy concessions for everyone, or something of that nature. He didn't have time to wait for her to show up. He spun around and lined up for the start of the match.

As soon as the quaffle flew he shot straight past all of the other players. He nearly collided with the Arrow's seeker, but that was intentional. He knew the sooner he could rattle her, the more likely he'd be to get the snitch.

After shooting past her he immediately launched into a dive. She had no choice but to follow, even though she didn't quite take the feint seriously. She didn't trail him close enough to wind up on the dirt when Harry pulled up quickly. But he could tell she was rattled. It helped that as he pulled up, he saw Jason Williams score the first goal of the match. The Tutshill crowd went nuts.

Unfortunately, the momentum didn't last. The Arrow's chasers responded quickly and consistently. The tide turned, and the score started to get lopsided. Harry did his best to not get frustrated at the lack of play around him. It was even more apparent while in the air just how deficient their beaters were. He spent nearly as much time dodging bludger as he did looking for the snitch.

Still, he did his best to distract the opposing seeker. He could tell it was working, too. She was growing visibly frustrated and annoyed by his tactics. She'd even accidentally fouled him once. Which led to Williams scoring easily on a penalty shot.

But the game was slowly getting out of hand. After a little over an hour the Arrows were already sixty points up and still had the momentum. Harry knew that if he didn't end it soon it was going to get very ugly. And frankly, he wanted to win.

He focused on looking for the snitch. He ignored the large, now much quieter, crowd and scanned every inch of the stadium that he could see. He made a mental note to look closer at the stands than he normally would. Fredericks had told him that professionally, the snitch would weave through the stands, often so quickly that the spectators rarely even noticed. He wasn't about to let that happen to the Tornadoes.

All he could do was fly around as quickly as possible and hope he didn't miss it. He kept distracting and annoying the Arrow's seeker as best he could. But he focused more on trying to win the match than being a nuisance.

Eventually, he saw it. The snitch hovered almost perfectly in the center of the pitch. The Arrow's seeker was going the wrong way. He spun around and shot off directly at it. The snitch reacted like it knew he was coming. Bolted straight up. He followed easily. By now he figured the Arrow's seeker knew he was chasing the snitch. He had to hope it didn't cut into her path. Thankfully it did a quick s-turn and darted toward the stands. Harry knew it was his then, as long as he could catch up before it barreled through the spectators.

He didn't quite make it. But rather than shoot into the crowd, it banked around the spectators. So he followed. His feet barely avoiding the tops of spectators' heads as he banked even with the rows of stands. He chased it around nearly the entire stadium. His opposite trailed a few feet behind him. She simply couldn't match his speed and was instead hoping that the snitch would out maneuver him.

It tried to. But it failed. It cut back hard toward the stands but Harry swiped his arm out and felt the golden ball hit his palm. He closed his fist around it and stopped in mid air. It struggled for a few moments in his hand before giving up. Harry gazed around as the crowd once again exploded around him.

"Potter has the snitch!" Dickerson yelled. Harry couldn't help but think he could get used to those words booming around the stadium. "And the Tornadoes win 210-140! Their first win in the last three matches. Harry Potter gets his first win in his first start. Keep that snitch, kid!" Harry grasped onto it tightly as the referee came over to confirm the catch. The official congratulated him once before he was swarmed by his teammates.

Once back into the locker room he was doused in various forms of alcohol and the amount of reporters in the room would have made a normal spectator assume they'd just won the cup, rather than a meaningless game at the end of the season. But Harry didn't care. He enjoyed the party. He gave a few quotes to masses of reporters, nothing really major, just how happy he felt to help the team and win the match. After a few minutes Coach Jacobs stepped back into the room.

"Friends and family waiting for you, Potter," the coach said with a nod to the exit of the locker room. Harry nodded and walked out of the room, still mostly drenched in alcohol and into the arms of the Weasley matriarch.

"Fantastic match!" she yelled.

"Great job, Harry," Billy said.

"Oui, fantastic!" Fleur said.

"Excellent flying mate," Ron said. And so on. Everyone offering some bit of congratulations. Harry offered his thanks to everyone. But something felt wrong. He looked around.

"Where's Ginny?" he asked. He didn't see his wife anywhere. His heart fell.

"She couldn't make it," Molly said. Harry heard a scoffing noise from the direction of the French witches, but he couldn't tell if it was Fleur or Gabrielle.

"Why not?" Harry asked. He hadn't remembered her having anything planned that night.

"I'm not sure," Molly frowned. "She said she had some sort of commitment with the Harpies." The room got uncomfortably silent, very quickly. Everyone seemed to be waiting for Harry to say something wrong. Instead he shrugged and hid his anger away.

"Oh. I'll just have to tell her about it later, then," Harry said, trying to make it seem like it didn't matter. At least he wasn't going to let it ruin his night. After a few more tense moments of silence, Fleur spoke up.

"We should let Harry change and enjoy his victory," she said. Her French accent was disappearing slowly. Harry had to admit he'd miss it. Bill agreed with her and the Weasley brood left the small area outside of the locker room. Harry paused for just a moment when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Oh did I miss it?" Luna Lovegood asked. "Excuse me, did Harry leave?" Harry turned and faced her, laughing a little bit.

"Not yet," he said. "Enjoy the match? I didn't think you'd come. Wasn't sure the team owl would get to you in time,"

"It didn't," she admitted. "I heard you were getting the start on the radio and got here as quickly as I could. I wanted to buy a jersey, but tickets were hard to come by."

"I left you one at the box office," Harry said, laughing slightly as Luna's face fell.

"Oh. I didn't think to ask," she admitted, looking away.

"I see," Harry said, feeling bad for the girl almost immediately. She wore a sweater, despite the generally warm spring evening, and worn blue jeans. She looked thinner and paler than when he'd last seen her. He paused for a moment. Part of him wanted to ask if she was okay. But something about that felt wrong. So instead he asked the next question that came into his head.

"Still want a jersey?" he asked. It had sounded better in his head.

"Yes," she admitted, blushing a little bit.

"How about a game worn, alcohol drenched one from Harry Potter's first win?" He asked. Her eyes widened quite a bit, but she managed to stay coy.

"Well it won't fit me. And I'd have to wash it. And it probably means more to you," she said. Harry just shrugged and pulled it off. He wore a Tornadoes athletic shirt underneath. It only took him a few seconds to magically clean the jersey and offer it to her.

"Well, freshly washed?" he asked. She nodded a little bit and took it.

"Thanks, Harry," she said so softly he could barely hear her. "It really means a lot."

"It's no problem, Luna," he stated. It wasn't really. He hadn't planned on keeping it. Hell, he'd have probably just thrown it into the team laundry and forgotten about it. For a moment, he forgot about Ginny and decided to simply ask another question. "Would you like to go out with the team and I? I'm sure they'll drag me to some bar to celebrate. I'm not a fan. We could catch up. I don't think I've seen you since the wedding."

"I'm sorry," she said a little too quickly. "But I have to work early in the morning. I should be going. Have a good time." She gave him the best smile she could muster. "Congratulations on the win, Harry. If anyone deserves success and happiness, it's you." She looked at him for one more moment, before turning and leaving, a little too quickly. Harry got the feeling part of her wanted to take him up on the offer, but a larger part just wanted to run away. Part of him wanted to follow her. But a larger part wanted to celebrate his victory.

He came back to reality long enough to block for Jason and Katie as they scored, tying the match up at 40 a side. He cut back and weaved through the South African attack. It worked rather well as one of the opposing chasers botched a pass. He saw Ginny recover it and speed off the other way.

He cut around a bludger and led the iron ball toward Titus, who smacked it right at the opposing seeker. The South African didn't have the same luck as Harry and was nearly knocked of his broom by the ball. Their coach called a time out to allow some time for his seeker to recover.

Harry saw the English chasers converge on each other. By the hand gestures he could tell they were discussing a shift in the offensive strategy. Gwenog and Titus appeared to be chatting about something as well. He debated flying over toward Oliver, but decided instead to just circle around the stadium.

He couldn't catch the snitch during a stoppage in play, but he could trail it if he were to find it. He didn't have such luck, though. After a little over a minute he heard the whistle blow again and knew play had resumed. His opposite seemed more cautious to follow him now, though.

Harry kept crossing the pitch, doing his best to assist his chasers as he did. There still wasn't any sign of the snitch, so he focused on helping his team score a few more goals before going back to focusing on the little golden ball.

He caught another quick glimpse of Ginny as she flew by with the quaffle. He felt a momentary pang in his chest. He still found her attractive, and still had feelings for her, despite everything. He knew he'd probably always feel something when he saw her, but with time it was weaker. And at least the anger was gone.

Still, the fact that she didn't show up at his first start wasn't even that big of a deal to him. She'd made up for it later that night. She came home from whatever party she'd attended, apologized profusely and begged him to not be mad at her with large, pouty eyes. He'd caved and the rest of their night had been amazing.

But it didn't last. She still didn't seem interested in his days at all. But rather just continued to discuss the Harpies playoff run. Still, their biggest fight didn't come until after the season. And it had been over something he couldn't believe Ginny had argued over.

Harry was packing up his locker after the final game of the Tornadoes season when Felicity Hillard stepped into the locker room.

"Final checks in the GMs office, Harry," she said as she started to pick up her locker too. Unlike him, though, she wouldn't be switching lockers next year. So she kept more things in order. Harry noticed that Fredericks locker was already completely barren. But figured he'd wait until the summer practices began to move in.

Things at the Tornadoes were looking up, too. They'd gone seven and one with him starting and had generated quite a bit of buzz as they did. They'd be a preseason long shot at contending next year, despite the impending loss of their top scoring chaser. He gave Felicity a quick nod and stepped out of the room with the belonging he was going to take home.

The General Manager's office was above the ticket office, and it only took him a few minutes to walk there. It was amazing how quickly one could traverse a completely empty stadium. The office door was open so Harry simply stepped in.

"Harry, good to see you," the Tornadoes general manager, John Albert said. "How's our rising star doing?"

"Good. Hope to be playing tonight next year, rather than watching my wife play the Pride," Harry commented.

"I hope the same," the manager commented. "Have your check here somewhere. Thanks for the great season." He found it then and handed it to Harry. He took a moment to look it over, then something bothered him about it.

"Wasn't I supposed to get a thousand galleon bonus if I wound up starting?" Harry asked. He vaguely remembered that being in the contract negotiations. He knew that he signed something that wasn't much more than the standard rookie contract, but he thought there had been bonuses for something. His agent had promised to put those in. Albert winced a little bit.

"Well, normally yes," he said. Sitting back in his chair and looking up at Harry.

"Well, why didn't I?" Harry asked. He half expected to hear another story of the teams cheating the players out of money.

"It isn't in your contract," Albert said simply.

"My agent said it was," Harry replied. He didn't really want to get into a fight with Albert, but he at least wanted he matter cleared up.

"I'm sure he did. But he wrote up your contract rather, erm, lazily," Albert said. Before Harry could comment he added. "Here, let me find the Tornadoes copy." Albert stood and moved toward a filing cabinet in the corner. He opened the top drawer and found the piece of paper very quickly. He handed it to Harry.

It was surprisingly small. It had very little information on it past some legal jargon and the figures he would make in his first year. It didn't seem like the agent had done much more than put 'Harry Potter' on it. Albert handed him another piece of paper after that.

"That's Jason's. I'm only showing it to you because it's technically expired. He signed it three years ago, we took him with the same pick we took you." The chasers contract was far more detailed, with bonuses and clauses and all sorts of other things.

"That's disappointing," Harry admitted. He wasn't sure what else to say. He handed both pieces of paper back to the other man.

"I can imagine," Albert said. "We're willing to renegotiate, of course. We'd like to keep you as happy as possible at the Tornadoes. But we do have you in a rather tight spot."

"I guess I should have read that damn thing before I signed it," Harry said. Albert shrugged.

"Probably. But most young players don't know what a contract entails anyway. I'm sure your agent just figured he'd get a nice fifteen percent for no work."

"He did spend a lot more time with Ginny," Harry admitted, remembering how he was shoved to the back of the room for the initial talks.

"That's no surprise. He works with most of the harpies," Albert commented. Harry nodded. That was why Ginny had chosen him.

"I'll have to have a talk with him," Harry said, pocketing his check. He'd owl it to Gringotts later. "Thanks for everything." He turned to leave.

"Oh wait, Harry. Are you willing to do some charity work with the team if need be during the off season. Normally we have that written into a contract, but as you saw," he paused. Harry just nodded.

"If I'm free, yea, just floo me and let me know," he said before heading home.

Unfortunately, his agent would have to wait a few days. After mailing off his check and changing out of Tornadoes colors he traveled to Holyhead for the match. Ginny had been annoyed he didn't wear Holyhead colors, or one of her jerseys, but he was at least smart enough to not wear the symbol of an opposing team, with his surname on the back.

Holyhead won the first match easily, but were outplayed by the Wasps in the semi-finals. Ginny was crushed and complained about the officiating in the game constantly for the next few days. Harry surprised her with a real honeymoon shortly after the loss.

Their grand tour of Europe did little to distract her from quidditch though. She insisted on attending a few European league playoff matches, and talked about how the Harpies were better than all of the European teams. Harry didn't care enough to argue with her.

He tried to distract her with fine food, fine wine, and himself. But always her topics of conversation came back to quidditch. They'd been married for less than a year, and he already found himself exasperated with his wife.

Eventually, about halfway through Italy, Harry started just arguing with her on quidditch topics. Simply to change things up. But that didn't seem to change anything. She just looked at him like an idiot and went on calmly explaining just exactly why he was wrong. Even their brief conversation about their mutual agent gathered him little support. In fact, it went something like.

"I think our agent screwed me on the contract. I don't have any clauses and get league minimum for three years."

"Gary? He wouldn't have done that."

"Well he did."

"I doubt it."

"He did. I have to go talk to him."

"I'm sure you just saw it wrong. Or the Tornadoes are screwing you."

In the end. She wasn't very helpful. Of course, maybe the team was. But it didn't seem that way to him.

He saw the snitch. It hovered near the South African hoops, and the English chasers were attacking. Which meant there was soon to be a lot of noise, and a lot of distractions as many of the players and spectators would spot the snitch.

His opposite was closer, but still was focusing mostly on him. He decided to just go with a flat out sprint. He angled himself around, lined up perfectly even with the hoop, and shot his broom straight at it. He weaved through the attacking chasers. He may have caused Jason to drop the quaffle, but he doubted the chaser would care too much.

The snitch's evasive actions weren't anything that he expected, either. Instead of trying to avoid him, it attempted to play chicken with him, flying directly at his face. Harry just pushed himself toward it, expecting it to drive one way or another when it got close to him.

Just when he was about to collide with it, it dove straight down. He overshot it a bit, but twisted himself, and forcing his broom to follow. The South African managed to follow it on a cleaner path. Harry could see the smile on the opposing seeker's face. He assumed Harry wouldn't be able to catch him. And as many Seekers in the European league would learn in his second year, that was a very bad assumption.

He closed the gap very quickly. His opposite followed the snitch's winding path almost to the letter, whereas Harry just flew straight in an attempt to catch up. The snitch started to bank right. Harry leaned with it and was ready when it finally decided to pull the hard move. The South African banked to follow but Harry cut through his path, nearly knocking the other seeker out. He narrowly avoided the penalty call, but it wouldn't have mattered as a few seconds later his fist closed around the snitch.

"He's got it!" Dickerson's voice boomed through the stadium. "England wins the match 300-140! What a game ladies and gentlemen! This English team may be something special. They'll play the winners of Canada and Slovakia next!" Titus and Jason were the first to congratulate him. Wood and Katie followed. And this time, even Gwenog and Ginny joined for a moment. England hadn't been as far into the World Cup as they were now for nearly a century.

Harry found himself in the hotel bar a few hours later. The team had simply changed and left. The jubilation on the pitch had faded nearly as soon as they entered the locker room. It felt awkward. Like they were fighting to be happy and still at odds with each other. Gwenog and Ginny left almost immediately and things perked up. But not enough that Harry stuck around.

"So," Jason said as he took a sip from his drink at the bar. He was looking over at a group of pretty girls and smirking a little too much. "I believe Harry was telling us a story."

"You really want to listen to that now?" Titus teased, leaning against the bar and staring at the same pack of girls.

"Yea. I'm too sober to go make a fool of myself. So have to have something bore me to booze."

"You do have a point," Titus commented. Harry just shook his head and looked down at his drink. "Start talking. You can skip over the end of the season. We don't really care. Get back onto the fighting and chaos."

"Fine," Harry said rather tersely. "Nothing really major happened until that off season, anyway. I'm sure you remember reading about the contract issues I had?"

"Of course," Titus said. "The backlash almost ruined that agent's career. That was important?"

"Yes," Harry said simply. "That's pretty much where it started to really fall apart."

"Really?" I'd have thought it was the end of your second season, not the beginning," Jason commented.

"No. That was just the nail in the coffin. The beginning was with the agent."

It wasn't for about a week after the second honeymoon that he managed to get back to get to Diagon Alley to see his agent. He'd wanted to go sooner, but the Tornadoes had asked him to help with a youth camp, and then make some appearances at local events around Tutshill. Both had been surprisingly fun. He also found it annoyingly difficult to make an appointment with the man who was to be his legal representation.

It only annoyed him more, too, that once he had one in place, he was told by the polite secretary to wait for a moment. A moment that turned into a half hour. Eventually, though he did manage to see his agent.

Gary Middlebrook was a middle aged man who'd been an agent for nearly twenty years. He looked like he probably slept in a suit, and never wore anything else. He only really had premium clients, and most of them were women. He worked nearly exclusively with the Harpies, many people had actually been surprised when he signed Harry. Gary was also famous for making sure his clients got top pay. Often getting them an exorbitant amount of money.

"Please sit," he said as Harry finally entered the office. "Coffee?"

"No thanks," Harry said. He sat in the large, comfortable chair in front of the desk.

"Well, what can I do for you, Mr. Potter?" he asked. "Issues at the youth camp? Most players hate the first one. Kids can be ungrateful bastards, I hear."

"No. That was actually fun. I wanted to talk about my contract." Harry said. He realized he didn't really like the man.

"A little early to be worrying about the next contract, don't you think?" Gary joked.

"Not the next one. My current one. Why don't I have any bonuses or any clauses. It looks like it was written up in ten minutes."

"The Tornadoes refused to agree to anything other than what I did," Gary commented. "Albert is one stubborn negotiator."

"They've told me otherwise. They're willing to renegotiate," Harry countered.

"The bargaining agreement doesn't allow for that," Gary explained. "So that's irrelevant. There's nothing we can do." Harry didn't have the heart to explain that they wouldn't have been able to negotiate him out of a youth camp then. He could already tell where this conversation was going.

"So you won't even approach them about it?" Harry asked. He hoped the agent couldn't see his clenched fists under the table.

"I don't see a point. They won't agree to anything now that they have you locked in. And it's not like you need the money. Is there anything else I can help you with?" While Harry hated being treated differently for being Harry Potter, he also really hated being brushed off. He almost played the celebrity card. But he decided it wasn't worth it.

"No. That'll be all. Forever. You're fired," Harry said. The agent's expression immediately hardened. He stood up as Harry stood to leave.

"That would be very foolish, Potter," He said as menacingly as he could. "Teams will eat you alive and fuck you over on your next contract without me as your representation."

"Already got fucked over on the first one," Harry commented. "And it wasn't by a team. The other players in the league seem to be fine. I'm sure I'll find better representation. And I'll be telling my wife of this." Gary's face dropped again as Harry left. Unfortunately, his last threat would be completely empty.

He left the office building and walked down the alley. He didn't really feel like going home and explaining it to Ginny, if she was even there. He debated stopping by Grimmauld Place, but that felt odd, too. So instead he just stepped out into Muggle London near the alley. It was the last place where he expected someone to call his name. But it happened, nonetheless.

"Harry Potter?" a woman asked. He looked to his side and saw she was seated at a small table outside a nearby café. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't put a name to the face. She wore a wonderfully short, yet still formal, skirt, and a rather formal looking blouse. She had long dirty blond hair and hazel eyes.

"Yes?" he asked, turning toward the table. He didn't normally stop and talk to people like that. But usually he was out in the Wizarding world with Ginny and they simply wanted autographs or to chat about quidditch.

"You don't recognize me?" she sounded slightly put off. But he didn't.

"Sorry, can't say that I do," he admitted. She laughed a little bit.

"I'll give you a hint. We both skipped our final year at Hogwarts," she said. That didn't really help. But he assumed she was Muggle born.

"That's still not helping. Did you like dye your hair?"

"No. It's always been this color."

"I'm sorry. I've got nothing."

"Harry Potter giving up? That's a rarity. Come on. You'll get it," she teased. Harry was growing mildly annoyed. But he was growing more curious, too. He felt annoyingly drawn to her, without knowing who she was.

"Sorry. But I should probably be going," He said before turning to leave.

"Nonsense. Have lunch with me. On me. I don't have amusing lunch dates all the time," she said. Harry debated just leaving. But he didn't have amusing lunch dates either, and it sounded fun. So he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. He knew if Ginny found out she'd kill him.

"It's not a date," he commented. "I'm married."

"I heard. Congratulations." She said. He looked at her for a few moments. A waiter came and took his order before he spoke again.

"So you skipped the final year, presumably because of the blood restrictions?" Harry asked, trying to con more information out of her.

"Oh not at all," she said. "I could have gone. But I took a crash course in law instead. Just finished up my degree a few weeks ago."

"Law?" he asked. "So you're a solicitor?"

"No. But you still haven't guessed who I am yet," she pointed out.

"I honestly have no idea," he admitted.

"That's not surprising. I don't know if we were ever actually introduced. I did almost ask you to the ball in fourth year. But figured you'd just say no," she said. He raised an eyebrow.

"I probably wouldn't have. Had the damndest time finding a date," Harry said. "But if we haven't been introduced then well. I'm Harry Potter," he offered his hand. She took it.

"Daphne Greengrass," she said. He blinked. He certainly hadn't expected that. He knew nothing of her other than she was a Slytherin.

"You're right," he commented. "I would have said no."

"Told you," she responded as their food came. They ate quietly, chatting about idle things for a moment as they focused on their food.

"So, why law?" Harry asked as they finished.

"Was just always interested in it," she said. "My dad was too, but he never pursued it. He wants me to go into politics. I'm not particularly interested in that aspect of it. But who knows. Maybe down the line a bit."

"But if you're not a solicitor then what?" he asked.

"Promise you won't laugh?" she batted her eyes at him.

"Alright," he agreed.

"I'm a junior agent at Smith, Burns, and Brave," she commented. Harry recognized the agency. They were a smaller firm that had mostly dealt with Muggles. At least that's where it started. It was really easy to con the clients when magic could be used to meet their every demand. They were growing in the magical world as well.

"And what exactly does a junior agent do?" he asked. And he was genuinely curious.

"Gets coffee for the real agents and clients, pretty much," Daphne deadpanned. "Helps out wherever possible. Attempts to get some business. It's dreadfully boring. Half my time is spent kissing up to others until I can establish my own clients."

"And how's that going?"

"Not too well. But you know. I've only been doing this for a little bit. I think I'm getting the hang of it. Writing enough starter contracts for the older agents, anyway," she explained.

"And getting a client would help you out tremendously?"

"Incredibly," she said. "But the bosses would probably just try to steal any clients I got."

"Well. I'm im the market for a new agent," he said simply. She looked astonished. She nearly dropped her glass of water.

"What? I thought you were represented by Gary Middlebrook."

"I was. But I fired him about a half hour ago. He really messed up my first contract," Harry explained.

"What did he do?" she asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"Just half-assed it really. I get league minimum for three years with no bonuses."

"That's terrible. He could have gotten you double that by just saying 'oh come on he's Harry Potter,'" Daphne said.

"Well he didn't bother," Harry said crossly. "The Tornadoes are willing to negotiate, or so they say. But he didn't appear interested in trying."

"That's crap. Any agent worth their salt would try to get you something way better than that," she explained. "I could do better as a novice!" Perhaps she could. This seemed far too lucky. But then again, most things in his life seemed to be very lucky. Maybe it was a sign.

"You think so?" he asked.

"Easily."

"Well. You have a shot then. I'll send you a copy of my contract. You contact the Tornadoes and see what you can do. If you can make some progress with it then I'll go to Smith, Burns, and Brave and insist that Daphne Greengrass be my representation."

"Are you serious?" she asked, looking wide-eyed and stunned.

"Completely," he responded. She pulled out a pen and quickly wrote down an address.

"Send the contract there," she said. "Not about to let anyone else have a chance of intercepting that."

"Will do," Harry said. She looked at her watch then and pulled her purse off of her chair.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to be late from my lunch if I don't hurry." She started to dig through her purse.

"I'll get lunch," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Go. It would be silly if you got fired before I could hire you," he teased. She rolled her eyes and did leave.

It had been one of the best business decisions he ever made. He'd sent her the contract as soon as he got home. Within a week she'd negotiated an additional twenty five percent per year for his remaining two years. As well as playoff incentives and a clause for snitch catches. After that, she had her first client.

Gary Middlebrook was forced to deal plenty of news attention about why Harry Potter's first contract was so terrible. Half of his clients feared similar things would happen with them, and dropped him. But he'd maintained the Harpies. And that alone was enough to keep him in business.

Ginny hated him for it though. She blamed him for the lack of attention she, and the Harpies, then received from their agent. She thought he was being shallow and petty. He'd only ever been amazing to her, she argued. And she absolutely hated that his new agent was attractive, female, and unattached. Harry couldn't realize why she was so jealous of Daphne. He rarely saw her anyway.

Of course, when his second season started, he barely saw Ginny, too. Far too often he was the only one in the house in Holyhead that he hadn't even wanted. Their arguments were less frequent, but often more heated, during the season. And they would eventually run out of interesting quidditch topics, which often led to no conversation at all.

But Harry salvaged as much as he could. He tried to be the best husband he could possibly be. And he thought he succeeded. At least until the end of their second season.

Author's note: Chapter was supposed to continue through the second year. But I'm going to cut most of that because I'm not sure it's entertaining enough to make the cut. There's some things I'm going to include, but chapter three is really just the final downfall of their relationship. It's about a fifth done as I post this.

Anyway, thanks for your reviews and support. I'm amazed Letters was as well received as it was, and hope this will be anywhere close. Thanks!

3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money

Acknowledgments: Onichun, Commalies2003, and Rdg2000 for the beta work on this chapter.

Note: There's been some reviewer comments about the flashback nature. Every chapter will start in the 'present' and every inserted line is either the past, or back to the present. Most chapters will end in the present, too, but this one doesn't.

Chapter 3

Canada

"The Canucks then, eh?" Jason said staring up at the celebrating Canadian chaser. They'd decided to watch the match mostly because they needed a legitimate reason to skip the team meeting. Well, at least a reason better than 'we were hung over and didn't feel like listening to you.' And, being players in the tournament made it slightly easier to get tickets.

"What do you know about Sinclair?" Harry asked. He knew next to nothing about the North American leagues. There was little reason to read too many reports on them as he never had to play against most of the players.

"Slept with her once," Titus said dryly. For some reason that didn't surprise Harry.

"When was this?" Jason asked.

"Couple of years back, before she decided to stay home and sign with Toronto. She did a tour of the French teams while I happened to be vacationing in France." Titus explained as they stood to file slowly out of the packed arena.

"How was that?" Jason asked.

"Rather fun," Titus said dryly. "Had she signed in France I would have considered maybe attempting something that looks like a relationship."

"Lies," Jason commented. Titus just shrugged.

"That's all fine and probably a very interesting story. But I was more interested in her quidditch tactics," Harry commented.

"There's our usual boring Harry!" Jason practically yelled. "Always interested in the fantastically dull aspect of any conversation."

"Just trying to win," Harry responded.

"Worry about winning later. You have a week to read the scouting reports," Jason whined.

"Awesome, all the more reason to not go out with you two tonight," Harry responded with a faux cheerfulness.

"She's very small and very quick. She out flies just about everyone she plays against. She's won two league MVPs in the Americas. She's by far the best player on the Canadian squad. She's not far off of a Canadian Krum. Better looking though," Titus explained as they weaved through some slower moving fans.

"How the hell do you know that?" Jason asked.

"Oh come now, Jason, you couldn't figure it out?" Harry teased. "Titus likes the cute little Canadian girl."

"Like your agent more," Titus responded.

"Everyone likes his agent more," Jason deadpanned. "But you and Sinclair?"

"Only if she didn't live in Toronto," Titus responded. "But now that Harry has his preliminary scouting report we can move on to more important topics. Like where we're going to drink tonight."

"Bar on the corner from our hotel had some talent in it last night when I walked past," Jason said as they finally made it out of the stadium.

"Great," Titus responded. "Let's grab three stools and see where the night takes us. If it's too boring we can make Harry tell more of his story."

"Let's hope it doesn't get to that point," Harry laughed as they apparated back to the lobby of their all magical hotel before walking toward the bar. They were early and the place was nearly empty, so Harry once again found himself having to talk of his past.

He skipped the vast majority of his second season. The three of them all knew how it has played out. The Tornadoes, despite the loss of their highest scoring chaser, continue on the pace they'd played at the end of the year.

The team was actually a bit closer with Williams gone. They drafted a young Hogwarts chaser and signed a veteran seeker to back up Harry. Fredericks stayed on as an assistant seeker coach, although the older man didn't particularly do much in that role unless pressed to by Harry. Felicity Hillard was named the team captain at one of the summer practices, which came as a relief to Harry. There'd been a great deal of speculation in the Tutshill papers that he was going to become the captain, but he hadn't thought he was ready, and was glad when he wasn't even asked. Hillard had been with the team for years, and would do a much better job than a second year seeker.

And her impact was almost immediate. She'd made them attend more events as a team. She'd made them become more active in the Tutshill area until they were a fixture of the Tutshill magical community. She'd also had weekly cookouts at her own home in Tutshill, often inviting many local families, especially those that had children. It was fun. Ginny had even come a couple of times, mostly begrudgingly and enjoyed herself.

Still, well before the season started Harry felt they were far more bonded as a team than they had been in the previous season. Of course, that may have just been because he had been the lone rookie on the team, and most of the other players had largely ignored him for the first couple of weeks.

But the practices were more fun, and they often wound up at a local establishment for a brew after. It was fun. Harry felt like a much better teammate as he discussed his sport and life with his teammates. He grew particularly close to Hillard, who made it quite clear, in private, that any chance the Tornadoes had would come down to him catching the snitch. He was rather determined to not let her down.

And he didn't. In the first match of the year they played Ballycastle. It marked Jason Williams's return to Tutshill and started as a very tense affair. Williams was greeted by plenty of boos and lots of very negative signage. And it only got worse when the chaser scored two very quick goals.

But it didn't matter. The match had only lasted fifteen minutes. The fact that the Tornadoes only mustered two goals became completely irrelevant as Harry looped over the Ballycastle seeker and snatched the snitch almost out of his opposite's hair. Very few in the crowd had even noticed that he caught the snitch. One of the officials flew over and blew his whistle, effectively ending the match. They hadn't played well in the fifteen minutes, but the 170-60 final over one of the best teams in the league looked very nice. Ginny had even come out for the game, and joined in the team party after. Harry had a brief hope that after a year of marriage they would be better.

He would miss her first game of the season, as it coincided with his second, but she understood. They both won and came home rather tipsy, which led to a rather fun night for them both. All in all, it was a great start to the year.

Things only got better, too. Ginny received some advertising revenue becoming a new spokeswoman for the Comet broom company. She was thrilled to do the commercials and appear at events. She loved being the center of attention.

It was about halfway through the year that Cleansweep approached Daphne Greengrass and told her that Comet sales were crushing theirs since the ad campaign. They figured the only way to respond was hire the second hottest young quidditch star. Harry agreed without really thinking about it. He was actually more surprised by the amount of galleons Cleansweep offered than anything else. So was Ginny, his deal dwarfed hers. She was cold for a couple of days, but called her agent to complain instead of taking it out on him.

But again, as the season wore on, they each had a variety of commitments to keep, and they did their best to do so. Unfortunately, it resulted in them spending much less time with each other. Eventually, their routine became strictly physical. If they even had any time with each other they typically spent it in bed. On one hand, Harry rather enjoyed that it resulted in a complete lack of quidditch talk. On the other, he was sad that they didn't really talk about anything.

The season continued. The Harpies pounded just about everyone they played, including the worst loss of Harry's career as a starter, beating the Tornadoes 360-60. The game had gotten out of hand early and Harry hadn't even seen the snitch before the Harpy seeker caught it. But the Tornadoes recovered quickly with a pounding of Falmouth, winning 400-110. The playoffs came quickly and it seemed to be a foregone conclusion to most of the pundits that Tutshill and Holyhead would be playing in the finals. Harry wasn't quite as sure, but he was determined to see the Tornadoes get there.

"Finally," Williams commented as they walked down the tunnel that led to the pitch for the match against Canada.

"Yea, about time you go to the point where people are actually interested," Button commented.

"You were probably both cheering with the Harpies," Harry responded dryly. "Wasn't Titus sleeping with one of them at the time?"

"Irrelevant. They beat us, as such they needed to lose," Titus answered without answering the actual question.

"That about sums it up," Jason said. "Despite my comments too, I never disliked the Tornadoes. Only disliked the fact that they didn't pay me what I felt I was worth."

"Isn't that the same thing?" Harry asked.

"Not really," Jason defended himself without more explanation than that. Harry shrugged, figuring he wouldn't get anything more out of the chaser.

"Enough blathering about former teams that I wasn't on. I want to hear about the championship." Titus ordered.

"I'm sure you watched it or listened to it or something," Harry commented.

"Well yea, but I was drunk," Titus responded.

"And you didn't read a box score, or see a replay, or anything?" Harry teased as the three of them flipped onto their brooms and shot up into the air. The crowd was sparse, but they were out to warm up well before the match would start. It would fill up before the quaffle fell.

"Well I did, but I'm sure your rendition will be more interesting," Titus commented.

"I doubt it. It was just a game. Overhyped and anticlimactic like they all seem to be anymore," Harry commented. But he knew he wouldn't get out of continuing his story that easily.

The buildup for the game was incredible. Harry was amazed at the requests for tickets he got from all sorts of people he hadn't heard from in years. He'd sent the requests to Daphne, who took care of all of it for him. Of course, there were some interesting conversations.

"You do realize Gregory Goyle is on your request list, right?" she asked one night as they had dinner and were discussing his investments. Since their first meeting Harry had actually preferred to discuss almost everything relating to business at either lunch or dinner. It angered Ginny. Somehow, she just never understood that it was just business. But the entire tradition had started because she was usually too busy to go out for food with him. Daphne served as a nice substitute.

Of course, it didn't take him long to realize that she was very beautiful. Why he hadn't noticed that in school was beyond him. Probably because of the different houses. But he could have honestly answered that she was every bit as pretty as Fleur, although in a different way. She was more composed, English, and had just a charming, fun demeanor, even when they were discussing business.

"Gregory Goyle?" He asked. "And you got him a ticket?"

"No," Daphne said. "But I was rather impressed with his ability to worm his way onto your request list. Someone at the Tornadoes needs to clear those things with you."

"Probably, I just told them to compile a list of requests and things that came for me and gave that to you," Harry laughed.

"This so isn't my job, you know," she said.

"Want a raise?" Harry teased.

"Always. But I'll wait until you get one," she responded without missing a beat. She cut off a bit of her halibut, speared it and the end of a green bean and ate both in one bite.

"Well who'd you get tickets?" he asked, cutting off some of his duck and eating it.

"Three for Bill Weasley, two for Ron Weasley, One for Luna Lovegood and two for Neville Longbottom. That was the eight you were allotted," she responded. "And the team requested that you handle all of your own tickets from here on. I told them if they gave me an extra ticket I would relay the message. So they did." He was surprised the Weasley's hadn't gone through Ginny, but he supposed she could only get so many tickets too, he was probably their second option.

"And who's that one for?"

"Me, duh," she responded. "I'm taking the night off being your representation and simply being a fan. I hope you don't mind."

"Not in the slightest. Have a blast," Harry commented as he finished off his duck.

"I fully plan on it," she replied. "Do me a favor and win so I can make even more money off of you."

"As long as I get the majority of it," he laughed. Their waiter came and cleared their plates. Earlier in the evening he'd mistaken them for a couple. It only ever happened in Muggle restaurants, but was still awkward when it did.

"Of course, of course, greedy bastard," she teased.

"Says the woman who just ordered me to make more money," he added. The waiter brought dessert menus, but the two just ordered some after dinner drinks.

"Well that's my job. And I have expensive tastes. There's this gorgeous dress in the window at Gucci and I promised myself it if I get a nice big payday. Looks like you're the last chance before it becomes last season."

"I see. So I'm a slave to your fashion sense?"

"Pretty much. You did compliment me on my dress tonight when we sat down," she explained, leaning back in her chair to give him another good view of it. It was a pretty green number. Harry had complimented her on it. But only because of where it first drew his eyes.

"Yes it's very nice," he said again, quickly lifting his newly brought coffee and taking a sip of it.

"You just like it because it makes my boobs look phenomenal," she responded, leaning back toward the table.

"Caught me," Harry admitted. Daphne smiled quite a bit at that comment.

"So, how are things with you and Ginny?" she asked. He'd confessed marital troubles earlier in a longwinded conversation about how she was mad at him about one thing or another. This next question had become a bit of their banter.

"Why, going to try to sleep with me tonight?" Harry deadpanned.

"Not yet, but we'll see, you look like you need it." That was new. But he chose to continue the banter.

"Thought you didn't believe in relationships with clients."

"Oh, well yes, that too," she teased. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"I'm a happily married man, Daphne," Harry lied lightly, keeping the mood happy and fun.

"So that's a yes?" she teased more. He just shook his head, hiding a smile, and kept drinking his coffee. Looking back he should have realized how much fun the flirting was, and how he felt like it was something he should do more of.

It didn't help that Ginny often reacted poorly to it. She always assumed he'd done something wrong whenever he got too flirty with her. Like he needed to make up for something. She just didn't find it very fun. But still, he knew there'd never be anything serious with Daphne, the same way he knew there'd never be anything serious with Felicia Hillard, even though he flirted with his captain, too. It was just fun, work-related banter. At least that's what he thought.

"Damn it Potter," Titus groaned. "You always get to the good part right when we have to go do something a tiny bit more important."

"I dunno, I think his agent is more interesting than the game," Jason commented.

"I don't, but mostly because she refused to sleep with me," Titus added. "But we have to go and beat the Canadians now."

"So did you ever actually bed Greengrass?" Jason asked, ignoring his other teammate.

"That's not part of the story," Harry commented dryly. But he intentionally didn't answer the question.

"But it's more interesting than the story. I haven't seen her around, is she coming for any of the matches?" Jason asked.

"She told me she'd show up for the finals, but was going to stay in England for the rest of the tournament to deal with other clients," Harry explained, tilting his broom toward the middle of the pitch.

"That's a shame, she's fun to look at. And a blast when we go out drinking," Jason sighed wistfully. "Write her and tell her to come."

"No. I'll pass," Harry laughed. "Go line up we're going to play."

"Fine," Jason laughed and flew off toward his wing.

"Just do me another favor, Harry?" Titus asked, flying up next to Harry.

"What this time?" Harry asked, turning over and looking at his beater friend.

"Don't beat them too badly. I think I'm going to look Sophie up after the match, so make sure she doesn't hate me." Titus sped off toward Gwenog. Harry just laughed and lifted himself far above the pitch, waiting for the quaffle to fall. The match wasn't nearly as tense as the championship had been. It probably should have been, as it was also win or go home, but knowing there was still much ground to cover, and not having his wife on the opposing team, made it just seem that much easier.

A hundred thousand screaming Harpy and Tornado fans made Harry's head start to ring as he flew onto the pitch. The championship was being played at the same site as the World Cup he attended years ago. It alternated between a few sites every year. Harry's favorite would be in two years, when it would be played just outside of London in a hidden pitch that offered fantastic views of the city. But he'd worry about that in two years. For now he just looked across the pitch at the Harpy seeker and waited for the quaffle. Dickerson, naturally, was calling the game with his usual gusto.

"Ladies and Gentlemen a match for the ages. We've been waiting since mid season to see this one. Two candidates for the league most valuable player squaring off against each other. But they're even more than that. The last time a married couple played opposing sides of the league finals was 1949. They'd been opposing keepers.

"But today we have a chaser. The leading point scorer in the league. Second only in goals to Katie Bell with the Arrows, and far and away the leader in assists on a Harpies team that smashed just about every scoring record in league history.

"And opposing we have a seeker. The leading snitch catcher in the league. Without a doubt the Tornadoes have ridden the back of Harry Potter to this game. Can he emerge victorious once more? We are about to find out!" Dickerson's voice barely rose above the cheering crowd.

Ginny hadn't talked about the Tornadoes at all. Tutshill had lost both games to Holyhead during the regular season, one of which Harry caught the snitch during. Because of that, the Harpies were generally favored by all of the experts. Coach Jacobs had a very simple strategy for the game. He'd come up with it on the basis of one single chant. Defense, defense, defense. The Tornadoes knew they couldn't outscore the Harpies, and they knew if they tried they'd likely be eaten alive. It was Harry's job to catch the snitch before they were down by one hundred and fifty. Because if they reached that point, they weren't coming back.

The Tornadoes assumed that the Harpies knew this. Their advantage would be scoring fast and scoring in bunches. They would try to speed up the game, and force Tutshill into bad situations. The Harpy chaser line was generally superior. But Jacobs thought they stood a chance. The harpies liked to be fast, and could be lulled into a slower pace by precision passing and spending a great deal of time in their zone. So that was the goal. Keep the quaffle, make the Harpies screw up. It seemed easy enough in the team meetings.

Of course, that was until Alicia Spinnet won the first draw and swerved between two Tornado chasers. Before they'd even reacted she passed the quaffle to Ginny. Hillard did her best to stop his wife, but Ginny just passed the quaffle back to Alicia as she dodged the bludger. Spinnet scored easily and less than a minute into the match it was already ten to nothing.

The Tornadoes were visibly startled by the quickness of the first goal. Most teams were. The Harpies came right at you, and did their best to keep that level of pressure up for the entire match. It was hard to counter. And they failed. The Tornadoes tried to slow the game down. But before they could even get the quaffle out of the defensive zone, Ginny stole it and scored again, easily. Harry knew it was going to be a long night then.

But he couldn't lose focus. He had to make sure the game didn't last too long into the night. They wouldn't have a chance if it did. He was determined to not be Krum in the World Cup. The Harpies may be the better team, but he was going to prove he was the best player on the pitch. Of course, that seemed considerably easier to accomplish before Ginny scored two more goals and made it forty to nothing in the blink of an eye. Hillard called a time out before the Tornadoes inbounded the next pass.

Harry landed by the team and listened to the argument already starting.

"Play some defense!" the keeper screamed at the chasers. They wisely chose to not comment. Hillard spoke next, resting her bat gently on her shoulder.

"Just play our game," she said calmly, although Harry thought she didn't look remotely calm. "We know what we have to do. We can't let them speed around like that. We'll focus the bludgers on their chasers. That's the best help we can give you. Harry, you going to be okay with no beater support?"

"I'll be fine," he responded quickly. He knew that he didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. They did have to slow down the Harpy chasers to have a shot at winning, and if that meant letting the Harpy beaters and seeker be virtually unopposed, so be it.

"Alright, good. Let's get back up there. We didn't come this far to roll over," Hillard said. The players shot back into the air as Harry remembered something from last night.

"Felicity," he said, the captain turned and looked at him. "Ginny is still favoring her left side from the last match. She's more beat up than she's letting on." He felt bad admitting it. But he wanted to win. Felicity just nodded and flew back up into the air as play resumed. Harry stuck low to the pitch, flying as fast as he could just above the grass, before spinning higher into the air.

He led a bludger toward the other Tornado beater, but didn't stick around long enough to see where it was hit. Instead he swooped through the shooting lane of one of the Harpy chasers, preventing a shot on a near open hoop. The Tornado keeper saved the shot that followed as Harry cut back across the pitch and resumed his quest for the snitch.

After a brief moment he checked up on the Holyhead seeker. She was floating high above the middle of the pitch, surveying everything. She'd obviously figured out that she didn't particularly have to worry about bludgers and was taking advantage of it. Still, it wasn't Harry's style to just observe. He felt flying around was a more effective way to find the snitch. He liked to keep moving.

He saw the Tornadoes score their first goal of the game. The chasers had worked their strategy to near perfection. They'd passed the quaffle around the offensive zone until the Harpies were drawn out of position. Another quick pass led to the keeper being in front of the wrong goal. A shot later they were only down by thirty.

But the Harpies didn't appreciate being scored on. They responded with a very quick goal. Ginny inbounded the quaffle nearly the length of the pitch to a wide open Alicia. They Tornado chasers hadn't expected that type of play and a mere ten seconds after scoring their first goal they were again down by forty.

It looked like the Harpies would increase the lead even more after a quick turnover, too, but the Tornadoes keeper made an incredible save. A quick relay to one of the Tornadoes chasers was nearly intercepted. But a nicely placed bludger from Hillard broke up the play. Harry went back to searching for the snitch as the Tornadoes entered the offensive zone for only the second time that match.

The game continued. The Tornadoes managed to score another goal. And had a fairly good chance for a third but the Harpy keeper saved it. Harry still saw no sign of the snitch. But the Harpy seeker looked to be far to content simply hovering above the action so he decided to pull into a quick feint until he flew under her, diving straight for the ground. She took the bait and followed. He made a few quick moves to ensure that he was positioned perfectly in front of her. He pulled out of the dive very close to the ground. Unfortunately, she did too. He noticed she was smiling as she shot past him. Well played, Harpy, he thought to himself.

Unfortunately, things were getting out of hand. The Harpies were tearing their chaser line apart. It was already 100-30. Harry took a deep breath and kept his focus. He flew around the pitch, surveying the game as much he could while looking for the snitch. He watched Hillard hit a bludger toward one of the Harpy chasers. The chaser didn't notice the iron ball flying toward her. Harry cut into its path, flying just ahead of it. He saw he was flying toward Ginny and couldn't help but wince again. She'd forgive him, though, it was part of the game. He flew over her, distracting her for a moment, but that was all it took for the bludger to drill her left side. Harry heard the loud crack, but didn't have the heart to look back.

Ginny soldiered on, though. She recovered the quaffle and went on to score yet another goal. Followed by a steal and a quick relay to Alicia for another goal. Harry couldn't help but laugh. Ginny looked completely determined to just make the Tornadoes pay. It was rather impressive. But he'd have been more impressed if he couldn't feel the lead slipping away every time she scored. His eyes glanced quickly to the giant scoreboard on the side of the pitch. 140-40.

Harry completely tuned out the other opponents. He didn't even see the other players as he flew around the stadium. He looked around the stadium, weaving in and out of players and bludgers as he did.

Eventually he saw a flash of gold. His heart nearly stopped, but his body reacted without thought. He spun and cut back to where he'd seen gold. Sure enough, the golden ball was racing away from him. He pushed after it, looking up at the Harpies seeker. She was looking the other way. It was his, he knew, unless he screwed up.

He pushed his broom as fast as it would go towards the golden ball. As if it sensed his presence it tried to outmaneuver him. But he was better than that. He trailed it perfectly. By the time the Harpies seeker actually noticed Harry was chasing the snitch, she also knew she had no chance of catching it. But she gave chase regardless. Harry barely noticed her presence. He didn't look at anything other than the snitch as he ran it down.

The snitch cut left, but Harry followed perfectly. It cut back right but Harry didn't miss a beat. Eventually, it simply leveled out and pressed forward, practically begging Harry to simply run it down. He sped up and chased it down. He barely heard the audible gasp from the crowd as they watched him close in on it.

With an anticlimactic final press Harry reached out. The snitch dodged his first snatch, but when he brought his hand down for a second time it wasn't so lucky. Harry almost immediately dropped the little golden ball. He couldn't believe he'd caught it. He swooped toward the center of the pitch, simply staring at it in his hand. The noise from the crowd was deafening, and he couldn't see which team's supporters were cheering the most.

He turned toward the scoreboard as an official flew up to check over the snitch. Harry's eyes drifted over toward the scoreboard. But they didn't get there before two of the Tornadoes chasers flew into him. They hugged him tightly, he felt lips on his cheeks. The keeper flew in and nearly knocked him off of his broom. He heard Dickerson announce over the din of the crowd.

"Potter has the snitch! The match is over. The Tutshill Tornadoes have upset the Holyhead Harpies 190-170! The Tutshill Tornadoes have won the league cup!" One of the beaters and the other chaser swarmed him. He couldn't make out what they were screaming. But it sounded a lot like disbelief that they'd actually won.

Felicity was the last player to arrive at the celebration, after conforming the win with one of the officials. She flew directly toward him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him far too deeply. Harry laughed and disentangled himself from her.

The team laughed around them as they lined up to shake hands with the Harpies. Ginny didn't look at him as he shook her hand. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought she was crying. He didn't have time to comment further on it though. The Harpies left the pitch as the league trophy came out to be presented to Felicity. Harry watched the ceremony out of the corner of his eye as an official approached him.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," the official said. He offered the golden snitch to Harry. "I figured you'd want this."

"Thanks," he said, taking it into his hand and just admiring it. The official flew away and he pocketed it. Harry turned back to the ceremony and watched Felicity Hillard hoist the league cup over her head. After a moment the beater flew directly to him and offered the cup. He took it, and lifted it high over his head. He could think of nothing better to do than stare in awe at the cup above his head as flashbulbs lit the stadium.

It had been the happiest moment of his life. Better than beating Voldemort, as insane as that sounded. He'd set out with a goal at the start of the season. And while he thought that goal was absurdly high, he'd still managed to accomplish it. Even now, as he flew for England attempting to beat Canada, he could recall the feeling of hoisting the league cup above his head. His championship ring resided in a case on his dresser, next to the snitch from that game.

After the match things changed so quickly he could barely formulate the events in his head. The team had partied the night away at a Tutshill establishment. To this day Harry wasn't sure he'd ever had so many drinks bought for him. There was no sign of Ginny when he got home around eight in the morning. But he barely took notice and simply passed out on their bed.

She wasn't home when he woke in the early evening either. Which was disappointing. He'd really wanted to go out for dinner and enjoy the start of the offseason.

Of course now, in hindsight, he realized how silly that thought had been. He hadn't known just what was expected of the league champions then. And it all simply compounded when, just three days after the championship game, he was voted the league most valuable player. He still had the trophy for that, too. However it was in a cabinet somewhere, collecting dust. He'd never displayed it in either of his homes.

Harry couldn't help but wonder why as he weaved through the Canadian chasers. He wasn't paying much attention to the game, which probably wasn't good. But the last time he checked they'd been up by eighty points, so he wasn't particularly worried. It also helped that Sinclair seemed content to simply follow him around.

But he'd never shown the trophy because he'd known it had been one of Ginny's main goals. He'd never even thought about winning it until some of the reporters asked about his chances near the end of the year. It was a special feeling to win it.

It was after the award ceremony that he finally noticed something was wrong. Looking back, he realized Ginny was jealous of him. He'd taken all the glory she'd expected to have for herself. He hadn't meant to, but somehow everything she'd wanted for years had turned into his nearly on a whim. The physical aspect of their marriage even started to deteriorate. Harry blamed himself first, simply because of how busy his schedule became. But he knew that wasn't entirely the case.

Harry hated it. But he didn't have nearly enough time to focus on it. Every one of his days started with a floo call from Daphne. She'd tell him where he needed to be, for what sponsor, and when. For the first three weeks of the off season he barely even spoke to his wife. He should have been better. They both should have been better. But they let the void grow. He hated himself for not noticing just how much it grew until it was far, far too late.

But looking back he wasn't sure if there was really anything he could have done. He'd certainly tried, near the end. But his efforts had been in vain. And he knew he had to do all the interviews and engagements and quidditch related activities. He'd debated inviting Ginny along, but something had told him that would be a seriously bad idea. And, although he'd hate to admit it. He'd had fun.

A novel concept for him. Fun during interviews? But they'd been a blast. He paused his train of thought for a moment to look for the snitch. He saw nothing resembled it, and noted that Sinclair was still simply following him. So he went back to daydreaming about his post-championship life.

There had been one interview in particular that had been really a blast. He was asked to go on broom testing show and give a short interview before racing around a track. Daphne assured him it would be a puff piece and great fun. So naturally he agreed. He remembered the interview fondly. It had only been a few days after the championship match.

Harry arrived at the studio a bit early. He was escorted into the crowd and he simply watched the three presenters start their show. He'd done some rehearsing with the main presenter, and interviewer earlier in the day. Harry just watched as they showed videos on magic screens of the presenters testing various forms of magical travel. He was amused by their antics, and couldn't help but figure they'd be fun to go to the pub with. Eventually, though, he heard the lead presenter, Jeremy Clarkson, began the start of the interview.

"Now, a few weeks ago on the show," Jeremy Clarkson said, while moving toward the center of the studio. "We had a new quidditch star, the young and very quick Titus Button, set the fastest time on our quidditch player board. And we were literally inundated with," he paused for a moment. "A letter." The audience laughed as he now stood near the power lap time board.

"And we have that letter here," Richard Hammond said, holding up the piece of paper. "It's from a bloke in Holyhead who says he's sick of the Bats getting all the media coverage. And that he could out fly anyone on the Ballycastle team."

"And since the Bats lost to the Harpies in the semi-finals, he didn't have a chance to prove it onto the pitch. So he's decided to come to the greatest stage of all, our track, and prove it. Ladies and Gentlemen, Harry Potter!" Clarkson yelled. The studio was easily louder than the pitch at the finals. Harry walked up a small path, waving a bit, and sat on a couch across from Clarkson.

He waved a bit more at the crowd and quickly came upon the stage. Extending his hand, he gave Clarkson a firm shake while looking up at the tall presenter. He walked to the conjured chairs and kept waving to the audience before sitting.

Jeremy followed Harry down into his chair and waited for the audience to quite down. When they did, he decided to open the interview with a slightly awkward question.

"So what do I call you?" he asked.

"Harry works," he laughed.

"Really? But why, it's so plain. I mean you have The Boy Who Lived, Triwizard Champion, The Chosen One, the Slayer of Voldemort, Witch Weekly's third sexiest male quidditch player, the British and Irish League Most Valuable Player, Ginny Potter's husband, and now the World Champion Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes." Jeremy counted on his fingers as he spoke.

"That's a lot of titles," Harry laughed.

"And every one of them is better than Harry," Clarkson deadpanned.

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that," Harry said.

"Regardless, you're wrong," Clarkson said quickly. "Any of them would be better then 'Harry'. So, how's life at home?"

"It's pretty normal," Harry said.

"Really? Because if I beat my wife in the ultimate game, she'd be furious with me and probably try to kill me or I'd be sleeping on the couch for a month or so. Don't you agree ladies?" Clarkson looked around the room. Many of the women in the audience cheered. Harry laughed and shook his head a little bit.

"No. She's been great about it. It's just a game, you know. You win some and you lose some," Harry lied trying very hard to keep the smile on his face. Ginny had been far from great about it. She was furious at him. And she made no qualms about letting him know. She'd been so very close to her dream, after all, and Harry had quite literally stomped on it in front of her.

"Has she?" Clarkson asked. His eyebrows raised. "Some of the interviews she gave seem to suggest differently."

"Oh you know. We all let our emotions get the best of us after a match. I'm sure she didn't actually mean any of it," Harry defended his wife. Word of their relationship hadn't really spread, and he wasn't going to let it come out on a broom testing show. Of course, Daphne had assured him the interview would be mostly fluff.

"So," Clarkson said. "Let's talk about some of the brooms you've had in the past."

"Okay."

"Nimbus 2000?"

"Ya, that was the second broom I ever remember flying on, the first being the old Shooting Stars that everyone learned on with Madam Hooch. Professor McGonagall bought it for me when I made the Gryffindor house team as a first year.

"I found out later that actually my first broom was a shrunk down Nimbus 1001 my Godfather got for me on my first birthday. He placed a sticking charm on it so I couldn't fall off, and also charmed it so it couldn't go more than 4 feet off the ground, and only 5 or 7 miles an hour so someone could literally run along side it and keep an eye on me. I read in my Mum's journal that when she saw me riding on it she cursed my Dad, and forbid my godfather from coming over to see me for a month." The audience laughed at the end of the story.

"Really? So how did you do on the '1001?"

"Oh, according to my Dad's journal I was brilliant. He knew right away I was going to be a quidditch player. But then he also mentioned that he had a hard time sitting on a broom for about a month after that."

"Yes, I can imagine. What happened to the first '2000?"

"Well, it had a little accident. But it wasn't my fault," Harry commented.

"Professionals always have their excuses," Clarkson responded and looked around the room. "Do we want to hear what happened to Harry's Nimbus?" There was a loud 'yes' from the crowd. Harry shook his head.

"Well I fell off during a match with Hufflepuff at school, and it sort of made contact with the Whomping Willow. And the Whomping Willow smashed it to bits," there was an empathetic groan from the crowd followed by some laughter.

"Nice way to get rid of a broom if you ask me," Clarkson commented. "And after that you moved straight on to the best, with a Firebolt?"

"Yes. It was a gift from my godfather," Harry responded. "Another great broom."

"Still one of the best," Clarkson agreed. "But what happened to that one?"

"I lost it in one of the first battles of the war," Harry commented. Again, there was a collective groan from the crowd. "I bought another one after the war, though."

"And what do you fly now?" Clarkson asked.

"Well I've flown some other things, too. I had the good fortune of spending a great deal of time with Arthur and Molly Weasley during the summers and flying around on their Cleansweep Fives. They were a blast to fly!"

"Weasley? That's your wife's family then?"

"Yes it is. That's where I first met Ginny."

"But again, what do you fly now?"

"Well for pleasure still the Firebolt, but in games a Cleansweep Tornado Type 3," Harry said. The Tornadoes were one of the many teams that had a specific contract with a broom company. All members of the team flew the same broom. Cleansweep fixed it up every couple of years, too, to make sure it was always competitive.

"And which do you like more?"

"Well, they're different. The Firebolt is more about pure speed, the Tornado is way more maneuverable. For more of a thrill, I'd say the Firebolt," Harry admitted. Clarkson gave him a wry smile.

"What if there are some Cleansweep officials watching?"

"Well then the Tornado is the better broom by far," Harry commented with a quick smile, drawing some more laughter from the crowd.

"That's what I thought. Now," Clarkson said. Harry could sense that he was going to change the topic. "How does it feel to be part of the World Champions?"

"It's fantastic," Harry responded quickly. "Greatest feeling in the world."

"Really? After all you've done. You'd think that you know, beating the Dark Lord would probably be the greater feeling," Clarkson said. They'd rehearsed this a bit before the show.

"To be honest, Jeremy, that was more just relief. It wasn't something I ever really had a choice in. He wanted me dead, and I didn't want to die. When it was finally over, all I could really think about was moving on in my life," Harry explained. He'd given similar interviews before. Nothing he was saying was particularly knew. Daphne had advised him to stick with what he'd said in the past.

"And you did move on. Starting with being one of the youngest Aurors ever, but that didn't last," Clarkson stated. Harry just nodded.

"It was something I always wanted to do while I was in school. But with Voldemort gone, and most of the Death Eaters cleaned up, my heart just wasn't in it." He said.

"So you turned to quidditch?" Clarkson asked.

"More or less. Started playing some pickup games with guys at work. One of them called in a scout friend, not too long later I'm holding up a Tornadoes jersey on stage," Harry laughed. "It's been a whirlwind."

"And two years later, you're hoisting the league cup above your head. But how was it at the Tornadoes. At the start of the season former chaser Jason Williams made some rather disparaging comments about your chances."

"Yea. Jason tends to be a bit of a hot head," Harry said. "But we proved him wrong."

"Upset you didn't get to knock the Bats out yourself?" Clarkson asked.

"Not at all. Rather glad we didn't have to play them, to be honest. They're an incredible team." Harry admitted. "There's a reason they've had the top record in the league four of the last five years."

"Nothing to show for it title wise, though," Clarkson said.

"That happens," Harry commented. "They'll win one eventually."

"Not if you have anything to say about it."

"Hey, even I lose on occasion," Harry commented with a wry smile.

"Occasion being the key word. What, three times all last season?" Clarkson asked. It had been a modern British league record. Krum had been one better in the European leagues a few years earlier though.

"Three more than I'd have liked," Harry commented to laughter from the crowd.

"So, the World Cup is in Sweden in a couple of years. Are we going to see Harry Potter as the English seeker?" Clarkson asked. Daphne had discussed this with him, too. Apparently the preliminary selections were going to be taking place rather soon. He'd told her he'd be interested. But there were plenty of other seekers with much more experience than him, and the roster was very political. Daphne told him he'd likely be an alternate, at best.

"I'd love to represent England in the World Cup," he said. The crowd cheered rather loudly again. Apparently they'd love to see him representing England. That certainly was a confidence boost. "But I haven't been approached about it yet or anything. My agent told me it's pretty political."

"They'd be crazy not to have you on. For one, you're Harry Potter, for two, you just put in the best statistical year from a Seeker we've seen in decades," Clarkson complimented him.

"Well, maybe you should write them a note telling them that," Harry said with a smirk. Clarkson looked at him for a moment.

"You know what maybe I will," he joked. "I do only ever have good ideas."

"I'm sure," Harry commented dryly to more laughter.

"Well, now let's get onto why you're actually here. I hear you had an interesting connection with our moderately priced broom."

"I did," Harry said. "The Nimbus 2000 was the first broom I ever owned. Great broom. It was a treat to fly on one again."

"Well, let's get on to why you're really here then, your lap. How was it?"

"It was really fun," Harry admitted. "The Stig gave me some great advice. I've never actually gone around a track before, so that was interesting. I think I picked it up fairly quickly."

"How do you think you did?" Clarkson asked. Harry shrugged.

"I'd like to be near the top. But it was really windy, and raining rather hard," Harry admitted.

"You professionals, always with the excuses!" he scoffed. "Who wants to see the lap?" There was general yelling from the crowd before the lap appeared on the screens around the studio.

"And you're off," Clarkson narrated. "Looks like it really is raining out there today. Come up on the first corner. Oh wind got you a bit there but you kept it on line. Cruising through to Chicago now. Very tidy. Nice line out."

"That was actually luck," Harry laughed. "Gust of wind pushed me right back onto where I needed to be."

"Well whatever works. Through the hammerhead now. Very nice. Were you pushing it as hard as you could through the follow through?"

"Yea," Harry said. "And through that little gap after too, nearly shot off the course trying to steer to compensate for the wind."

"Yes we see that. Around through the second to last corner there. Very flamboyant line. Looks quick, even with the rain. Around Gambon there, perfect! And across the line. So. How do you think you did?" Clarkson asked, holding a small piece of paper and pen in his hand.

"Well I'd like to be the fastest, but I'm not sure if I can top Button, but a 1.32.3 is really fast. Where's the fastest wet laps?" He asked.

"Gwenog Jones and Viktor Krum, right there, with a 1:34:9," Clarkson pointed to the two names on the power lap board.

"Well with them would be great company," Harry said. Clarkson nodded.

"Alright, well, you did it in one minute. Thirty," Clarkson paused, Harry leaned forward, generally interested in his time. "two." He paused once more to general 'oohs'. Harry couldn't help but lean forward even more. "Point one!" The crowd exploded.

"Wow," Harry said leaning back in the chair.

"Wow is right. The fastest lap we've ever had!" Clarkson stood and slapped the time above every other quidditch star on the board. "The Stig did say, too, that it was by far the best lap he'd ever seen. Simply outstanding. Ladies and Gentlemen, Harry Potter!" Clarkson yelled. Harry stood and waved to the crowd, shook Jeremy's hand, and acknowledged the crowd again.

It had been such a simply interview. Something so very easy and fun. Yet because it was him, Ginny hated it. It was the life she wanted. But the star on the losing team seldom got so lucky. A year later, after the divorce, Ginny would appear on the same show, but like many others, she wouldn't be able to beat his time.

He came back to reality as Sinclair shot past his left side. He blinked for a moment. He'd been going over the Top Broom track in his head. And he immediately knew that was a mistake. He'd allowed himself to get distracted, and Sinclair had benefited. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the golden ball she was chasing.

Harry spun his broom after her. He was flying the broom he, Titus, and Jason had all received for the World Cup, the Nimbus R3500 'Bat'. It was a tweaked version of the broom they used in games. They'd marketed it to the three Bats on the national team as the ultimate in speed and maneuverability. And they hadn't been wrong. But Harry couldn't help but wonder who would top it by the time the next season started.

Of course wondering lost him more ground on Sinclair. But that didn't surprise him. She was credited as one of the quickest seekers alive. He knew he'd have to outmaneuver her, and not beat her on straight up speed. And that would only matter if she screwed up.

He pressed on, doing everything in his power to keep up with the small, lithe, Canadian seeker. But, by the time he caught up with her, she was already reaching for the golden ball. He positioned himself to foul her, figuring that was his last defense. But he saw the scoreboard out of the side of his eye. England 310 Canada 100. He noticed an official about to blow the whistle if he grabbed Sinclair's broom. But the catch didn't matter, so he peeled off of the path to the snitch and waited a few moments for Sinclair to catch the golden ball. Which she did. He flew up to her as the official approached to confirm the catch and gave her a few praising words before flying off. Titus joined him after a moment.

"I assume that wasn't intentional, but thanks. She'll be all happy tonight for beating Harry Potter to the snitch," Titus teased.

"I fucked up," Harry admitted. The best he could say was that he hadn't lost. But still, not catching the snitch often made him feel as if he had anyway.

"Shit happens. She's talented," Titus said, trying to cheer him up. Harry just shrugged,

"So am I," he commented as he noticed Gwenog Jones flying over to him, looking furious.

"Potter, what the hell was that?" she asked. In the distance behind her he saw a furious Ginny.

"She out maneuvered me at the start of the chase and I couldn't catch up," Harry lied, hoping the Captain hadn't seen that he simply hadn't been paying attention. "I could have fouled her, but when I saw we were up by two ten I figured it'd be better to just have the match end." Gwenog stared at him. She knew that he was probably right, and that it didn't really matter because the team had still won. After a moment she just gave him a curt nod.

"Screw up again and you're out," she said before flying off toward the locker room. Harry laughed quietly and noticed Button smirking.

"Yea, screw up again Harry, and you're out. We will be too," he teased. Harry just shook his head, fighting off a smile, as he and the beater proceeded back to the lock room. He sat in the locker room with his teammates, waiting for them to finish changing. Eventually, Jason simply looked over at him and said.

"Hotel bar? Titus is going to go find Sophie."

"Sure," Harry responded.

"Good, you can tell me about winning it all with Tutshill. And how your marriage fell apart. And whether or not I can try to sleep with Ginny. I should have signed a one year deal," Jason joked.

"We'll get you a ring," Harry responded automatically. He chose to ignore the other comments as they left the locker room and walked back toward their hotel. "But it's not really an amusing ending."

It had all seemed to end in a rush. But looking back he could see that it had never really started. And, it probably wouldn't have been a rush had he not let himself be preoccupied with Quidditch. He often wondered if, had he stayed an Auror, their relationship wouldn't have fallen apart so quickly. But it wasn't something he wanted to focus on.

He knew Ginny wasn't the only one to blame, either. Yes, she stopped really talking to him for a while after the championship, but he'd stopped every trying to be her friend. He'd found himself too busy to pay too much attention to it. And that was entirely his fault. He hadn't noticed the rift was there before it was irreparable.

Harry also hadn't realized just how bad it had been when every time a picture of him made it into the papers he was accompanied by either his captain or his agent. It wasn't long before the rumors started. He denied them. Felicity denied them. And Daphne denied them. But it didn't matter. The media kept implying that he just had to be having an affair with one of the girls, as he spent more time with them than he did his own wife.

Soon, Ginny stopped coming home every night. Harry wasn't sure where she was. She became harder to contact on road trips, so he responded in kind. He ignored a couple floo calls and spent more time drinking and celebrating with his team than he probably should have.

In his third season, the defending champions started out incredibly slow. Their chaser line hadn't particularly improved in the offseason, so the weight of defending the title fell onto Felicity and Harry. And Harry was tired. They barely lost to Appleby, but only because Harry caught the snitch, before being stomped by Holyhead and Ballycastle in back to back games. Their 0-4 start was capped by a loss to Chudley as well.

It really didn't help that many reporters commented on how his play looked sluggish and out of sync. Like he probably had too many things going on outside of the pitch. And of course, that just resulted in a great deal of speculation on what those things could be. Naturally they weren't satisfied with the obvious answer, that his offseason had been too short and too busy.

Finally, a rumor started that he hadn't spoke to Ginny in months. Since the end of the previous statement. Harry wasn't sure who had spoken to which reporter with that bit of information, but the article had been far from flattering.

But it wasn't like he'd just given up. He and Ginny both tried. But they weren't around each other enough for it to really matter. They still had, on occasion, an amusing evening out, or a fun lunch with each other, but the brief attempts at acting a married couple always ended with the paparazzi. And they always asked questions about extra-marital activity, and as always the outings ended with both Harry and Ginny furious.

They would simply go home and argue. Ginny didn't understand how the reporters could keep pestering him about that if there wasn't truth. And it was one such night, after attempting to have dinner in Holyhead, where Harry received far too many angry glares from locals that they wound up in an argument back at home.

"Just tell me, Harry. They wouldn't keep bringing it up just to be annoying," Ginny said, taking a deep breath, as if bracing herself for the news.

"I'm not having an affair, Ginny. If they had any proof it would already be published," he commented, trying to remain level headed.

"Then why don't we have sex anymore?" she asked. It was the absolute last question Harry had expected.

"I didn't think you wanted to," he said dumbly. "Ever since the championship," he paused. It was the first time he'd mentioned it. He saw her jaw clench but she remained calm.

"Where you snogged the beater," she commented. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, she shoved her tongue down my throat," he responded. Poor defense, he knew, but it was the truth.

"You didn't resist very hard," Ginny stated.

"I barely even realized it was happening! Are you really that upset about that?" He asked in disbelief. It had been months. "And it's not like I don't still want you, Ginny! We just haven't," he paused. He wasn't quite sure how to word it. "We just haven't been around. And it's always just seemed wrong."

"And you didn't even try," she responded, looking genuinely hurt.

"I." it was true, he hadn't. But he didn't know how to defend himself.

"See. And you can't even defend it." She shook her head.

"I didn't think you wanted me," Harry admitted. Then, after a brief pause he spoke words that had remained true since well before their wedding, despite everything that had happened. "I love you, Ginny." He saw look away for a moment.

"That's the problem, Harry. I don't want you anymore. And I don't love you," she said quietly. Harry felt his whole world come crashing down around him. For a moment, he thought the house was melting away. He could do little more than just stare at his wife.

"So that's it?" he asked once he finally managed to compose himself.

"Yes," she said, bluntly. "I've had my agent draw up divorce papers. He'll send them to your agent in the morning."

"How long," he started to ask, but Ginny interrupted him.

"That doesn't matter," Ginny said. Harry disagreed with her on that matter. But he didn't press. He didn't really want to talk about it. He walked over toward the fireplace, not quite sure what he was doing. But he felt like he needed to be out of that house as quickly as possible.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked. Harry laughed a little bit.

"I don't know. But I'm not sure it matters," he said. He also wasn't sure that was any of her business at that point. He grabbed a handful of floo powder from near the fireplace, stepped in.

He stepped out at the Leaky Cauldron. He couldn't explain why he'd chosen that destination. He could have gone to Grimmauld Place, but he didn't particularly want to enter the dark, creepy house that night. He debated asking Hannah, who was working as the bartender that evening, for a room, but he decided he didn't want to be inside. Instead, he stepped into Muggle London.

It was strange, how mundane it all seemed. But his marriage was nothing. He loved Ginny, he knew he probably always would. He felt alone, empty and lost for the first time since his fifth year. He walked through the streets of London, seeing couples everywhere. It made him sick. They all had something he wanted, but would never acquire. Instead, he'd made a mistake.

But he couldn't admit that. He held out hope that he'd be able to fix things. That it couldn't be all over. He kept walking. Thinking the entire time that there had to be something he could do. Eventually, he realized that he needed advice. But he didn't know where to go. The Weasleys were out, they should hear it from Ginny first. He wondered about teammates, or coach Jacobs, but neither of those seemed like a viable option. He could only think of one other person, and she didn't seem like that good of a bet either, but she lived nearby.

He approached the small, two story duplex house. It was a tad late at night, and he hoped that she was home, or still awake. He rang the bell for the lower floor of the duplex and waited. After a few minutes the door opened.

"Harry? What the hell it's like one in the morning," Daphne Greengrass said from the doorway. Her hair was a mess and she wore a thin nightgown that had one strap hanging off of her shoulder.

"I didn't know where to go," he admitted. She raised an eyebrow.

"Your house would be a good bet. Hell, you don't even look drunk," Daphne responded, looking him up and down. "And you're all dressed up."

"I was out. I'm sober. And I didn't want to be at my house," he argued.

"Well you have two, and enough money for a hotel room."

"Can I come in?" He asked. After a moment she stepped away from the door and he stepped into her home. It was sparsely decorated with mostly Muggle furnishings.

"What's up, Harry. And why couldn't this wait until morning?" She asked with a yawn. "Oh and if you want coffee or tea or anything, make it yourself." She nodded toward the kitchen as she spoke. Harry walked into it. But simply sat at a stool at the small bar she had.

"Ginny wants a divorce," he said, not sure what else to do.

"I know," she said. Harry looked at her, looking rather confused.

"How did you know that?" he asked.

"Gary sent me over the papers yesterday," she said. "I have to tell you, I'm your agent. While I do have a degree in law, I'm not the one you want handling your divorce."

"I didn't even find out until tonight," he said dumbly. Daphne nodded a little and perched herself on the counter near him.

"I'm sorry," she said. There wasn't much else she could say. He didn't really know what to say either.

"What should I do?" he asked.

"Get a better lawyer than me," she responded.

"You've been great," he said, although he could tell she probably didn't need cheering up.

"Obviously. But I'm great at making you more money and taking part of it for myself. I have some friends that I can probably get to recommend a good divorce attorney for you."

"Okay, thank you, Daphne," he said.

"No problem. I may charge you for this, though," she teased. He just rolled his eyes.

"I'll take you to lunch next week," he deadpanned. She nodded a little bit.

"That works for me. Now is there a practical reason you came here that couldn't have waited for the sun, or is that all you needed?"

"I don't think so. I just didn't want to be alone," he admitted.

"Harry. I've only ever known you alone," she responded. He gave her a startled look. "I mean you've always been a loner. And you two never really did much together."

"We were always busy," Harry started to argue, but Daphne interrupted him.

"I'm not saying it was your fault, Harry. Just pointing out what I've seen since school," she explained. He paused for a moment, but nodded. She had a point. He usually was alone. Strange that he would really feel it now. Perhaps it was just guilt at the loss.

"You have a point," he responded. He couldn't help but look at Daphne perched on the counter. Which led to looking at the rather revealing nightgown. He tried to not be obvious "Never really thought of it before."

"Well think about it. Second year, fourth year, fifth year, even a bit in sixth year," she commented. Harry did think about those years for a moment. It was interesting, but it certainly didn't make him feel better.

"Thanks," he laughed hollowly. "That made me feel much better."

"I bet it does," she responded. "I really am sorry, though. When did things go bad?"

"I don't know. Probably as soon as we got married. I haven't done much with her in months, all we do is argue. I don't know. I don't really want to talk about it," he said, looking down at the counter mostly to take his gaze off his agent.

"It doesn't sound like you two were really that close," she commented. He paused for a moment, thinking carefully about her words, and what he should say.

"I thought we were," he paused. "I guess I was wrong."

"Must have been," Daphne commented. Harry glared at her for a moment. She just smiled weakly. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he commented. He knew he should get up and leave. The entire conversation was growing awkward. But leaving would again lead to being alone, and thinking about being alone, and he wanted no part of that either. After a few moments of awkward silence, Daphne finally spoke again.

"So you two haven't really been intimate?" she asked carefully.

"Not lately," Harry admitted, shaking his head and wondering just how much more awkward the conversation could get.

"Shame. But I'm tired, Harry," she said carefully. She slid off the counter and fell right into his lap on the stool. He tensed as her hazel eyes locked onto his. He froze. His entire body tensed and the next thing he knew Daphne was kissing him, very softly. Her body pressed against his as she deepened the kiss. After only a few moments she pulled away and whispered. "You may hate me for this. But I think you need it. So just this once, I'm going to walk to my bedroom. You can either leave, sleep on the couch, or join me." She slid off of his lap and walked into a separate room.

Harry sat there for a moment, stunned. He fought every instinct he had to follow after her. He didn't want to cheat on Ginny. He stood and started to leave, but paused near the door. Ginny had ended it. He didn't owe her anything at this point. She'd already filed for the divorce.

He turned around and walked as quietly as he could through the same door Daphne had. The bedroom was dark, but seemed to be very clean. The only thing he noticed out of place was a skimpy nightgown disregarded onto the floor. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it near the nightgown. After a moment he sat on the side of the bed and peeled off the rest of his clothing. He felt a soft pair of arms wrap around his chest, and delightfully warm skin press into his back.

"I'm glad you stayed," Daphne said, giving him a small kiss on the neck. He didn't respond, but rather shifted himself around and kissed her. After a moment he pressed her down onto the bed, pressing his body against hers as he kissed her once more.

Harry against her, instinct again controlling his actions. Daphne's hands ran down his back and between them. After a moment he felt himself slip inside of her. He moaned against her lips and simply let instinct take over.

Like Ginny, it was intensely physical. There was little emotion involved. But there also weren't any expectations. Daphne kept her arms around him and whispered quietly, egging him on. He loved it.

He collapsed against her when it was finally over. He wasn't sure what it had meant, but he didn't really care. That could wait until the morning. Instead, he simply fell asleep cuddling with a woman in his arms. Something he hadn't done in far too long. It made him realize just how much he'd missed it. But, at least for the night, he finally didn't feel alone.

Author's Note: I forgot to mention another thing that inspired me in writing this. Jane Leavy's biography of Sandy Koufax, Sandy Koufax: a Lefty's Legacy. If you're interested in baseball history, it's an exceptional book.

I realize there's a distinct lack of Luna in this chapter. Her scene got cut for a variety of reasons. But at the halfway point of the story Harry's marriage is pretty much over. Now it's a matter of building it back up with someone else. The next chapter focuses on his final season in Tutshill, and coping with being alone once again.

On a side note, it's rather hard to destroy a relationship that never really existed. The entire point I'd been attempting to portray is that neither of them is really at fault, they were just young, infatuated, and clueless. Eventually, they both realize it's over, and can accept that. It's also far too easy to put all of the onus on one of them, and I'm hoping it comes off that they both screwed up in their two years together.

A special note has to go out to rdg2000 for help with the 'Top Broom' segment. While writing Letters he approached me about it. I commented the bit I'd be interested in would be having Harry be a celebrity interview. That almost made it into Letters, but I saved it for here. He took it upon himself to write an incredible Top Broom bit, check it out if you get a chance.

That's all I have to say. Thanks for the reviews and support, I appreciate it all. PM me if you have questions or want a response.

4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Beta work on this chapter by Onichun and Cammiles2003

Chapter 4

Ireland

A few days passed since Harry admitted the affair to Jason. The chaser hadn't commented during the story, and the two had simply had a few drinks, split some appetizers from the late-night menu and chatted about nothing in particular. Eventually, they took the elevator back up to their floor and traveled to their separate rooms.

Harry entered his large, empty suite. It was closer to an apartment than a typical hotel room, but it still had that sterile feel of a hotel, from the boring art to the standard furnishings. Not that he was complaining, they could have certainly been put up in worse accommodations for the World Cup.

The only part that bothered him was how empty it all was. Most of his teammates had brought along some family or lovers for the trip. Only he, Jason and Titus were alone. But Jason and Titus often found company for the night. Harry didn't have the heart to find some cute local girl for a bit of fun. A year ago, immediately following the divorce, maybe, but not right now.

Anyway, he suspected he'd have company after one or two more wins. And he was looking forward to it. He walked into the small kitchen he had and took out a glass, scooped some ice, and poured himself a drink.

He turned on the news and simply watched, sipping his drink slowly. There wasn't much happening that he cared about, and really, he just had it on for the noise. It made him feel less lonely than simply sitting in the dark, quiet room. After a moment he turned his gaze out the window and looked over the city. It was a nice view, even if it was simply dark at night.

After finishing half of his drink he decided he may as well just go to bed. He left the glass on the counter and walked to the bedroom to change. He thought back on what he told Jason. It had really been the first time he'd given any details into the 'affair'. He'd been foolish when he hadn't expected any reporters to see him that night. There'd been a reporter in the Leaky Cauldron as he'd flood in, and the intrepid young gentleman had followed him, with a camera. It hadn't been a fun couple of months after.

But if felt nice to mention it. There certainly wasn't anyone other than Jason or Titus who he could even talk to about it. Daphne hated any sort of reminder. She thought she'd ruined her career. But in time the media moved on to newer and better things. At the time, Harry had regretted it almost immediately.

It was what caused Ginny's most drastic change toward him. She'd simply assumed he'd been sleeping with Daphne the entire time, and that he'd just lied to her when they both already knew it was over. She felt like she'd been cheated for years, rather than once at the end. And no matter what he argued, it didn't matter. Of course, he should have realized sooner that it was a pointless debate. But Harry hated being called a liar.

Eventually, he curled up in bed remembering those first few days of 'single' life. They weren't pleasant. He'd thought long and hard about how those days could have been improved but that had been futile to think about. It didn't help that he came up with nothing.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't think of those days ever again. Of course, that was a completely useless promise. And as he closed his eyes and once again was brought back to those unsavory memories. At least now, though, he knew they led to something that seemed better.

Daphne woke before him. When he groggily opened his eyes he could hear the shower running. He stared at the bathroom door for a few minutes, but figured that she probably didn't want to be bothered before preparing for work. It didn't help that he felt incredibly guilty. So instead he put on some of his disregarded clothing from the night before and stepped back into the kitchen.

The first thing he did scavenge for something to eat. Daphne had a rather stocked fridge, but cooking made him feel like he was back with the Dursley's, so he settled for a couple of granola bars. He probably should have asked. But she made her money off of him. She could always buy another box of granola bars.

He noticed a tea kettle resting on the stove. He created a fire underneath it with his wand, not wanting to bother with the stove. He spent a few moments looking through her cupboards until he found some tea. He picked out an Earl Gray and left the box out for Daphne to pick her own. He found two cups and placed them on the counter.

After pacing around the small living room he noticed the postman had come. He walked outside to find a copy of a Muggle paper. A few seconds later an owl arrived with the Prophet. He took both papers back inside where the whistle of the tea pot informed him that the water was up to temperature.

He stepped back into the kitchen and placed the papers on the counter before extinguishing the magical fire and pouring himself some water. He ripped open the tea package and placed the bag into his cup before sitting in the same spot he had the night before. He scanned The Times for a few moments, reading nothing more than the headlines, before switching to The Daily Prophet.

Again the headlines weren't anything too amusing. He flipped to the sports to read the quidditch stories. He found out he was a finalist for the English national team. That was good to know. He'd have to scold his agent for not being the one who informed him of that. He scanned the sports page with little interest. He was mentioned in an article about the Tornadoes early season struggles, but that was it. He couldn't possibly know it was the last issue of the Prophet that he'd read for a very long time.

When he was halfway through the Tornadoes article Daphne walked into the kitchen. She gave him a quick nod and picked out her own pack of tea. She sat at the other stool at the counter and started to read through the paper, far more carefully than he was. Eventually, he decided to break the slightly awkward silence.

"So, I see I'm a finalist for the English National Team," he said dryly.

"Congratulations," she responded. She took a sip of her tea before getting off of the stool and searching for something to eat. She noticed the now empty box of granola bars and glared at him. After a moment she opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of apples. She grabbed a knife and started to slice it into pieces.

"Shouldn't my agent have told me that?" he asked, teasingly. She rolled her eyes.

"Your agent would tell you that," she said dryly, taking a bite of an apples slice, "but everything you hear about that is reporter speculation at the moment. When something is actually confirmed, you'll be the first to know."

"Well, the second. If you have to tell me you'd be the first," Harry responded. He took a sip of his tea to hopefully buy enough time to think of something to say.

"No, the selection committee would be, but don't argue particulars. As is I have some insider information that you're a lock. Although they were hoping to be able to market you and your wife together. So that could get interesting when the divorce becomes public," she explained. Harry was struck by her ability to slice an apple, eat it, drink tea, read the paper, and explain something to him simultaneously. All without even looking bothered.

"Well that's good to know," he commented.

"You should know by now I am an incredible agent," Daphne teased.

"With a whopping what, five clients?" Harry teased right back. Daphne waved her hand as if that fact didn't particularly matter.

"Only one that really matters," she responded. "Step up your game, by the way, your start is going to hurt your contract offers next season."

"You know I don't really care about the money," he said, sipping his tea and stealing an apple slice from him. She made a move to stab him with the knife, but just missed.

"You may not care about the money, Mr. Potter, but I do. So play better so I can make more money," she deadpanned. Harry just laughed.

"If you insist, Ms. Greengrass." He sipped his tea again. She nodded sternly.

"I do insist. We also haven't discussed where you want to play next year, and how long of a contract you're looking for," she became very businesslike in an instant, yet still managed to practically ignore him while enacting what must have been her morning routine.

"I haven't thought about it," Harry admitted. In truth, he'd only ever imagined being a Tornado. And things were going well, so perhaps he'd simply stay there. "Tutshill is fine. Tell me what offers you get."

"Naturally," she agreed. "I'd put Falmouth or Wimbourne as two teams most likely to pursue you. Behind Tutshill, naturally. Maybe Ballycastle if they get knocked out early in the playoffs again."

"I thought they liked their seeker," Harry commented, turning back to the news section in the Prophet. "And isn't she engaged to one of the beaters?"

"Button. And no. I think they just had a fling. But they do like her, just considerably less when she doesn't catch the snitch in the playoffs," Daphne responded. She finished her apple and resumed sipping her tea. "They also like throwing absurd amounts of money at people that they think will finally get them that twenty-eight ring."

"Ballycastle, though? That's the last team I want to play for. I couldn't stand Williams in Tutshill," Harry commented, remembering how annoying the constant tension had been.

"Just saying they may offer you a contract, Harry, not that you have to accept it," Daphne responded as she turned the page of her paper.

"Well we have a season before we need to worry about that," Harry commented, reading a story about repentant Death Eaters in the Prophet. All it did was make him want to strangle the journalist and the repentant Death Eaters. But he was perhaps a little biased.

"Indeed we do," she commented. After a moment she finished with the Muggle paper and simply snatched the Prophet from him. He picked up the other paper and scanned some of the articles. Nothing really caught his attention. It was mostly about Muggle politics anyway, and he was annoyed enough with Magical politics to not bother worrying about the Muggles. They were silent for a few moments before he worked up the courage to ask the one question he'd actually wanted to ask.

"So, uhm, last night," he said carefully, stumbling a bit over his words. Daphne interrupted him, while still reading the paper.

"Was fun," she said, turning the page.

"Yes, it was, but," he started to speak, but she interrupted him, folding up the paper as she spoke.

"It needs to be nothing more than fun, Harry," she said, looking square into his eyes. Harry wasn't sure how to respond. But she continued anyway. "You're fun. I rather like hanging out with you, and the sex was rather nice. But I highly doubt you're anywhere near ready for a relationship, and I don't want to be the one that has to put you back together."

"So we're nothing?" he said. He felt both relieved and saddened by that claim.

"No. I'm your agent. I'm going to continue to act in your best interest in fiscal matters. You're a surprisingly easy client. I'll ask some friends about a divorce attorney for you and send that recommendation by," she explained in a rather businesslike manner. He nodded a bit and finished his tea. He noticed she had too so he took both cups and magically cleaned them, before putting them back where he found them.

"Thanks, Daphne," he said after a moment. "I really do appreciate it."

"I know you do, or I wouldn't be nearly this helpful," she teased. He knew she was lying, but didn't think it wise to comment.

"Well, you're the smartest decision I ever made," he responded. He couldn't be sure, as she looked away, but he would have sworn he made her blush.

"Thanks, Harry," she said. They both knew he had single handedly skyrocketed her career after she fixed his first contract. And while she still didn't have many clients, she was rather well thought of. "Just remember if anyone asks. This never happened. I don't need people thinking I sleep with my clients."

"Wouldn't dream of telling anyone," he responded.

"Good. Now if I need to contact you, where are you going to be?" Harry hadn't really thought about it. He took a moment to think of what he needed to do that day.

"I don't know. I'm going to pack up my stuff and move out of Holyhead. I'll probably just be at my place in London," he said. There was a sharp pang in his chest as he realized just what moving out of Holyhead meant. He took a deep breath, rather determined to not let Daphne see him being overly emotional. Although he wasn't particularly sure why that thought bothered him.

"Alright," she said as she stood up and gathered whatever items she'd be taking to work. "I may stop by after work tonight if I have anything to add. I'll even draw up your views on the divorce for you to look over. The press will want a comment soon. I'll be as nice as I can." He hadn't even thought about the press. He frowned when he realized that he'd once again be a front page story.

"Thanks. I'd be lost without you," he admitted. She laughed a little bit.

"You're lost with me. I'll just do my best. See you later, Harry," she said before standing and walking toward the door. He watched her go before walking back into her bedroom to finish dressing. He spared one quick look at her disheveled bed and couldn't help but smile at the night before. He made the bed for her quickly before stepping out of the bedroom.

Harry gave one last look around the apartment before walking over toward her fireplace. He picked out some floo powder and gave his private address to his Holyhead home before staring at the fire. He knew the second he stepped into the flames he would start a new chapter of his life. Divorced, single, whatever it was. He knew everything would change as soon as he crossed the threshold. He took a very deep breath and stepped in.

"You missed the best part of the story," Jason Williams said as Titus Button sat at the table he and Harry had been breakfasting.

"Oh what's that?" Button asked. It had been a couple of days since they'd seen each other. But they had another match that evening. A match that promised to be their biggest challenge yet. Harry had spent the time off exploring the local area. He'd had fun, despite being recognized nearly constantly. Still, a few autographs for fans never hurt. Well, never hurt anything more than his wrist.

"He actually slept with her," Jason said, rather too excitedly. Harry could have sworn one of the girls at a nearby table glared at them.

"Keep it down," he said quietly to his teammates. Jason just laughed.

"Congratulations," Titus said as a waitress came to take his food order. "Now who'd you sleep with?"

"His agent, you idiot," Jason said. At the very least he didn't shout it this time.

"Daphne?" Titus responded, looking a little stunned and annoyed.

"Yes," Jason added.

"When?" Titus asked. He gazed around the restaurant as if he were looking for her.

"Year ago," Harry commented. "When the divorce became public."

"So you two were having an affair," Titus accused. Harry shrugged a little bit, trying to indicate that he felt it was more complicated than that.

"No. We slept together once. She claimed I needed it. And she was right, really. But it was just one time when I had just found out about the divorce," Harry attempted to explain.

"You went to Daphne when you were getting divorced?" Titus said skeptically. "Why would you do that?"

"Seemed like a better idea than getting trashed at the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry replied as harshly as he could.

"You need to get to better bars," Jason commented as he speared some egg onto his fork. "There's some great ones not far from your London house."

"Whatever," Harry rolled his eyes. Of course, he was familiar enough with those bars too, but Titus knew that.

"Still think that seems odd," Titus said.

"Well it was. But she was the only one I knew in London, and I knew I'd need legal help with the divorce," Harry lied. But Titus seemed content with that answer. Or at least with his food arriving.

"And somehow that led to the two of you sleeping together. Impressive," Jason teased as he finished his breakfast.

"Well it was her idea," Harry said. "Anyway, how was Sophie, Titus?" He hoped to simply change the conversation.

"She's good. We hung out most of yesterday. She hates you, by the way. But she's pulling for us against Ireland."

"Good to know," Harry said, not particularly caring about any of that information. After a moment Jason stood.

"Well, early chaser drills before the match, I'll catch you guys later," he said as he left. Titus looked over at Harry as he ate. After a few minutes he broke the silence.

"So you and Daphne," he said carefully. Harry looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Yea, once. A year ago," he responded. "Nothing more than that. It was all over the papers, I'm surprised you didn't read about it."

"I did," Titus responded. "But the both of you always claimed it was crap."

"Well it mostly was. I told you, just one night where we both didn't have any better judgment, not the multi-year affair they claimed," Harry shook his head remembering how interviews turned into questions on his destroyed marriage and possible extra-marital activities.

"Good," Titus said. Harry paused for a moment and looked at him.

"You and Daphne?" he responded.

"What?" Titus looked surprised.

"You want Daphne," Harry said dryly. "Since when?" Titus looked like he was going to argue but just sighed.

"My seventh year. Your fifth. But she wasn't at all interested," Titus responded.

"Did you ask?"

"Well no. But I could just tell," he claimed. Harry shrugged.

"Perhaps you should try asking," Harry said. Titus just glared at him so Harry added. "Hey, you'd be surprised how effective that can be. She'll be rather annoyed if you keep sleeping with random Canadian girls, though."

"Oh shut up," Titus said.

"Well it's true," Harry responded as he finished his breakfast.

"Regardless. Let's go pester the chasers and be otherwise annoying teammates before the match," Titus said. Harry could tell his friend nervous. They both were. They'd already made it as far as they were expected in the World Cup, but now the real matches started. They'd known they could draw the two-time defending champs this yearly, but had hoped against it.

"Mess with the chasers? You'd think you didn't want to win," Harry commented.

"Oh I want to win. But I'm nervous and will play like shit if I don't get some excess energy out. And screwing with Jason is always fun," Titus claimed while standing from their table.

"Yes, it is," Harry said, rising from the table as well. "Although I'm not sure why you guys are worried. It's either I beat Lynch or we go home. All the pressure is on me."

"Stupid seekers," Titus said. "Always thinking you're the only part of the team that matters."

"Well we are," Harry responded. "Or your team wouldn't have paid me an absurd amount of money to catch the snitch."

"They're paying me more to try to injure people," Titus commented.

"No, they're paying you more to wear a stupid red C on your chest and look pretty on the cover all the team merchandise," Harry said. Titus laughed.

"You may have me there. But regardless, they're paying me more," he said as they left the hotel to walk to the stadium. Harry couldn't help but think about how the last time he'd actually wanted to play for had been the only one to offer a contract. And how wonderful that had worked out. He had many regrets about his third season, but in the end, he was happy, and that's all that he really cared about.

Ginny was surprisingly helpful with packing. She didn't press him for any information about the night before. She probably simply assumed he went to Grimmauld Place to sleep. She'd neatly organized some of his things before he showed up. And she helped him pack it all up, shrinking things and labeling boxes carefully.

They didn't really speak, they didn't really look at each other. He couldn't help but notice that she did still have her wedding ring on, which sent a pang of guilt through his chest. But he didn't mention it. Eventually, they'd packed up everything. He shrunk all of the boxes and put them into another box, which he then shrunk before sliding it into one of his pockets. He knew it would take him a while to restore everything, but he figured he had time.

"Thanks, Ginny," he said weakly, it was their first attempt at conversation on the night.

"No problem," she said weakly. "It was the least I could do." She looked away from him. He paused for a moment, attempting to come up with something to say. Something that wouldn't feel hollow and dumb. But all he wanted to do was ask her out on a date. And that certainly wasn't the right option at the moment.

"I really do appreciate it," he said. He blushed a bit as he spoke, as they were the same words he'd spoken to Daphne what seemed like mere minutes ago. But she smiled at him.

"I'm glad. I have to run, though. Practice. Let me know if we've forgotten anything," she said before flooing to the stadium. Still, he couldn't help but think that they certainly didn't seem to hate each other. Maybe, just maybe, they'd manage to stay friends. He'd have liked that.

He simply looked around the house he'd never wanted to buy, or live in, and sighed. He couldn't help but notice that it didn't look much different with all of his things packed up. He sighed and stepped back through the fire to London.

When he arrived he deposited his stuff in the living room and paced around Grimmauld Place. It hadn't changed much since he and Ginny moved out. He looked around the master bedroom briefly, then walked back into the living room. There was no sign of Kreacher, but Harry figured the elf was just sulking or something.

He walked back into the living room and started to unpack the boxes, keeping them shrunk until he could figure out where he wanted them to go. He was rather amazed by how much stuff he had. It hadn't seemed like much when he was living in Holyhead, but as he started to attempt to organize the boxes it did.

But he got bored about halfway and walked over to the floo, sending some messages to his teammates, indicating that anyone who helped him organize his stuff would receive a free lunch. As he started to enlarge the boxes the floo hissed behind him. He turned to see Eva Larson, a chaser and their top draft pick last year, who was joined a moment later by Felicity.

"What's up, Harry?" the captain asked, giving a quick smile and nod to Eva.

"Moved out," he said simply. Felicity and Eva gasped.

"What?" Felicity said.

"Ginny is divorcing me," Harry said. Took my stuff out, need to figure out where to put it" he said, gesturing to the boxes.

"Why?" Eva gasped.

"We don't really get along anymore. She thought it was for the best. I can't really argue with her," Harry commented.

"But you two are perfect!" Eva said, looking rather starry eyed up at him.

"Apparently not," Harry laughed. "You two girls mind enlarging stuff? I'll just send it where it goes then. Shouldn't take us very long," Harry asked as he took out his wand. They each took theirs out as well and started to magic things out of the boxes.

"You don't seem too beat up, Harry," Felicity said after a few moments.

"I guess it hasn't really sunk in yet," he said. And it was true. It really hadn't. But for some reason he didn't think he'd ever be to beat up about it. Deep down, he knew he was just relieved. And for now, that was keeping him going.

"Well, if you ever need to sit out a game or something. Just let me know," she said, enlarging a garment bag filled with clothing that he banished toward the master bedroom.

"Will do, Felicity. I promise I won't let it damage my play," he responded. He didn't know that he was lying. It only took the three of them twenty minutes to fully unpack and get everything into the proper room. He'd make sure that everything was completely in its proper place.

Right as they finished the floo lit up again and another chaser and the keeper stepped out into Harry's living room.

"Potter's buying lunch?" the keeper asked. They looked like they had been practicing that morning.

"Well it was supposed to only be for people who helped me move," Harry said dryly. "But I guess you two can come too."

"Great," the chaser responded. "I worked up a rather large appetite scoring like a maniac this morning."

"I stopped far more than you got past," The keeper joked. They continued to banter but Harry tuned them out as they left for lunch. Harry picked a nearby pub and they found a secluded table in the back. He spent most of the meal talking to Felicity, while the chasers and keeper conversed. She didn't really talk to him about anything important, but merely kept him talking.

After they meal they dispersed. Felicity asked him if there was anything he needed, but he told her that there wasn't. He simply returned to Grimmauld place then and spent the rest of the afternoon organizing his items.

He had to admit, as he was completely alone in the house for the first time since his graduation. And even then, Ron and Hermione had crashed with him rather consistently, followed by Ginny over holidays and after her graduation. And now, with no prospect of his friends showing up, it felt suffocating lonely. He made a mental note to write to them the next day, because they really did deserve to know what was happening, although they'd both probably make him explain everything a thousand times. Thankfully, he heard a small pop before he could think about that for too long.

"Is master staying long?" Kreacher asked from behind him.

"I don't know," Harry responded, looking at the elf. He seemed healthier since the war. Certainly he'd stayed far more energetic after receiving the locket. "It looks that way."

"If master needs anything, he will let Kreacher know," the elf said. Harry just nodded. Then, after a moment asked.

"Is there any alcohol in the house?"

"Some old wine from old master's parents. And some whiskey from old master."

"Bring me the whiskey, and a glass please, Kreacher," Harry said. The elf simply disappeared with a pop and reappeared a few seconds later with a half-consumed bottle of Firewhiskey. He poured some out and drank it quickly, simply settling onto the couch.

He simply sat and drank then, settling onto the couch and thinking about life as he sipped glass after glass of the alcohol. Eventually, he groggily rose from the couch, leaving the empty bottle and glass on a table, and worked his way to the master bedroom. He managed to change into pajamas and collapse onto the master bedroom.

He crawled into bed and thought that his first day of non-married life really could have been much worse. And that everything really hadn't been that terrible. And it was that type of wishful thinking that helped lull him to sleep. Of course, he couldn't possibly know that every major magical publication was printing a front page article that would dominate his life for the next few months.

"Ladies and Gentlemen we have a huge match today. And, as we learned earlier, the winner will play the rather surprising Sweden in the semi-finals," Dickerson explained over the roar of the crowd. Harry was simply circling around the English zone as part of the warm-ups. Jason and Titus were otherwise focused on the game, and he didn't particularly feel like bothering them.

"On the north side of the pitch, in their traditional red and white we have the English National Team. Widely considered the best team England has fielded in nearly a century, they've met the expectations, but now face their toughest challenge so far. None of the English players would tell you they wanted this match. In fact, there are teammates opposing each other today.

"Which leads us to the other side. In the south zone we have the Irish National Team in their traditional green. Widely felt to be one of the strongest teams coming into the World Cup they have not disappointed. They trounced the United States in their first match, absolutely murdered the Japanese in game two, and stomped Argentina in game three. All I can say is that there is definitely a reason that they've won the last two World Cups.

"But tonight we will see if the upstart English squad is good enough to defeat the old standard in United Kingdom quidditch. I know the locals probably don't care as much about the outcome of this match, but for a Brit like myself, I'm eager to see if the dynasty falls tonight!" There was enough of a cheer from the crowd that Harry realized they either did care, or it was mostly British and Irish fans.

"Give 'em hell, Harry," Oliver said as Harry flew around the hoops. Harry nodded and gave the sweeper a quick salute. He positioned himself between the beaters, matching Aidan Lynch's spot. It wasn't his ideal spot to start a match, but judging by the flashbulbs the crowd appreciated how he mirrored the Irish seeker.

He went over what he knew about Lynch in his head. It wasn't hard, he'd scouted, and beat, him during the regular season where Lynch played for the Catapults. He was susceptible to feints, and relied on his superior chasers to force the opposing seeker to react. He was more aggressive during league play, but World Cup play didn't often require it. Harry was ready if the more aggressive Lynch showed up, though.

He also knew that Lynch was sick of being overshadowed by Krum. Two times he'd failed to catch the snitch in the finals. His team had still won, but he'd had to answer those questions. And if Lynch was anything like him, it was the worst question to answer.

But Harry would just have to apologize to Lynch later. The Irish seeker had knocked him out of the playoffs, and he planned on returning the favor. He knew that beating the Irish would be a huge step. They wouldn't be favorites. But it was his chance to show that he was the best Seeker in the world. His chance to do something even Viktor Krum hadn't done yet. And he wasn't going to blow it.

Harry awoke in Grimmauld Place and it took him a moment to remember exactly why he was there. The slight hangover didn't help. Had he really drank the entire bottle? That was a bad idea. He rolled out of bed and managed to shower without much difficulty. When he stepped out of the bathroom and dressed he could smell breakfast. It was a rather nice touch, he'd have to thank the elf.

"Master," Kreacher said Just as Harry was thinking about him. "You have a lot of mail."

"I do?" Harry asked. The elf nodded and held up a pile of letters. Harry took them and raised an eyebrow. Sure, he got fan mail on occasion, but this had been a surprise.

"Do I get a lot of mail here?" he asked. But Kreacher just shook his head.

"No, master. I made breakfast. Would master like to enjoy it with the morning paper as he did as an Auror?" Kreacher asked. He nodded.

"That would be great, Kreacher, thanks." He followed the elf toward the kitchen, where a plate of eggs, toast and bacon was sitting in what had been his usual spot when he'd lived here last. He had to admit, the elf really had grown on him. Why he hadn't summoned the thing during his seventh year Horcrux hunt? And why hadn't he brought him to Holyhead? Probably because Ginny hated it.

He thanked the elf once more before picking up the paper. He saw the story that would dominate his life then. He nearly dropped the paper on his food. Which probably wouldn't have been that big of a deal because he'd immediately lost his appetite. Somehow, through it all, Rita had managed to secure the cover of the Prophet. She had details of his divorce, and cleverly mentioned how it was entirely his fault. That he could have lived with. In fact, that was to be expected.

But what really bothered him was under the fold. He saw the picture before reading the headline. It was innocent enough. He and Daphne out to lunch one day. Smiling and laughing at each other. From her outfit he could almost remember the conversation they were having. Next to it was a picture of Felicity Hillard kissing him after they'd won the league.

He simply skimmed the article then. It was about how he was obviously having an affair, because that would be the only thing that could cause such a rift between the perfect couple. Skeeter made many inflammatory comments about Daphne, and Felicity, and even a few other players in the quidditch league that Harry had never even spoken to. But if Skeeter was to be believed that hadn't stopped him from sleeping with them.

He took a closer look at the article, trying to see just what exactly Skeeter knew for sure. The middle stood out the most.

I have learned, dear readers, through crack questioning and research, that when a tearful Ginny Weasley told her unloving Husband that she wanted a divorce he simply laughed and left their quaint little Holyhead house. She had no idea where he went. But it wasn't too hard to track him down

I first checked with his teammates. None of them admitted to seeing him since their last match. And while his relationship with Ms. Hillard is questionable, they did not appear to be lying to me. Instead, the dupes simply wondered why I was worried about Mr. Potter's location. Their naive innocence was almost cute. The rookie chaser, Eva Larson, was even foolish enough to tell me that, "he said he was going to spend his off days with his wife."

A nice notion, to be sure, but he didn't even manage to spend one night with her. Perhaps the young Miss Larson was simply trying to cover for him.

Harry winced a bit at that. Eva certainly didn't deserve to be treated like that. She was too young to fully remember the bad propaganda from during the war, and probably thought she was just being helpful. Still, he had to laugh at the notion of the house in Holyhead being little. He couldn't help but wonder if Ginny had actually spoken to Skeeter, or if the reporter would just claim she'd heard it from an acquaintance.

Still, after reading just that little bit, he couldn't help but hope his teammates wouldn't be annoyed with him. The Tornadoes had a standing rule that off the pitch issues needed to stay off the pitch. As a team, they never commented on each other negatively to reporters, regardless of the situation. Still, he kept reading.

So where was Potter, then? Well it didn't take much to find him. Hannah Abbot, bartender at the Leaky Cauldron, reported that Harry Potter showed up late that night. But he'd simply floo'd in and left into Muggle London. She didn't know where he went.

But she wasn't the only one who noticed Mr. Potter. A fellow journalist with the Prophet, who wished to remain nameless, noticed him in the bar. He decided to follow, figuring there may be a story involved. Of course, he knew Potter had a home in Muggle London, but it supposedly hasn't been used since he and his wife bought the house in Holyhead.

But it wasn't to his home in London that he fled. Instead he went to the house of his agent, Daphne Greengrass. My journalist friend reported that she greeted him at the door in a very skimpy nightgown, and almost immediately invited him in. It's pretty clear what the two got up to that night. The only question is just how long has this activity been occurring. We were all surprised when he fired his first agent to hire the inexperienced girl he supposedly had no connection to him. Perhaps we know now just what she did to ensnare him.

Harry put the paper down then. Shaking his head and feeling his blood rise at that accusation. He'd given them the full story on why he'd fired Gary, but that didn't matter, apparently. Skeeter would make up whatever she liked. He had to wonder just how long she'd been waiting to write about that.

"Bad news, master?" Kreacher asked as he noticed Harry wasn't eating any of his breakfast.

"Not really news, just Skeeter writing more crap," Harry said. The elf nodded his understanding. Harry didn't know for sure if the elf understood, or cared, but he at least gave the impression he did.

"Will Mrs. Potter be joining us?" the elf asked after a moment.

"No. She and I are through, Kreacher," Harry said. "That's half of what Skeeter is talking about."

"Kreacher never liked her anyway, Master," the elf said. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"You don't like anyone, Kreacher," Harry commented. Kreacher just shrugged at that.

"Is master finished with his breakfast?" he asked.

"Yea. Sorry I didn't eat much," he admitted. "Lost my appetite over the paper." Kreacher just cleared the plate quickly before asking.

"Does master have any requests for dinner?" he asked.

"Surprise me," Harry said, knowing the elf would come up with something that would probably be pretty good. The elf made a subtle noise of affirmation and disappeared. Harry read the rest of the paper, ignoring any article that had any mention of him, before traveling taking the floo to Tutshill for practice.

Lynch was trying to follow him much the same Sinclair had. Harry knew that was the new report on how to beat him. Largely because of his final year at Holyhead. Opposing seekers thought if the game went on long enough, he'd stop paying attention. It was the largest knock on him now, that he wasn't mentally strong enough to play seeker anymore.

It was crap, Harry knew. He'd fully admit to screwing up on occasion, but every Seeker did. So much in the professional leagues relied on who saw the snitch first. And Harry had spent a large portion of that third season in his own little world, worried about other things.

He pestered Lynch by weaving quickly through one of the chasers attacks. It may have cost England a shot at a goal, but the lines seemed evenly matched so he wasn't particularly bothered by that. Of course, it helped that one of the Irish chasers collided with Lynch, nearly knocking the opposing seeker off his broom. But Lynch recovered and sped off after him. Harry banked hard in front of the Irish hoops, distracting the opposing keeper long enough for Ginny to score easily on the far hoop. She gave him a quick nod, acknowledging the play, as she fell back to play defense. If only off pitch relationships had been that easy.

She'd assumed the articles were true. The pleasant, friendly Ginny that had helped him pack disappeared very quickly. Daphne had suggested an attorney to handle the divorce and he'd taken her advice. The new lawyer was older, and rather no-nonsense. But he got the job done very efficiently.

The divorce itself hadn't lasted very long. Ginny, or perhaps Ginny's lawyers, had claimed she should have some claim to his family money, but they'd settled that by having Harry give her the house in Holyhead, furnishings and all, with no question. His attorney had thought that was a bit much, but Harry told him he didn't care about the house at all. It had helped that Ginny made more money, although not by much, than he did through sponsors and actual contract.

Still, she'd dragged t out a bit, claiming that he'd violated the terms of their marriage with the affairs, but as they could prevent absolutely no evidence other than hearsay that had eventually died out.

As expected, the general public opinion sided with Ginny. She didn't do very much to encourage it, though, but that hadn't dissuaded reporters. In fact, her first stories of their relationship hadn't been that dissimilar to his. They changed a bit down the line, but Harry couldn't tell if it was because Ginny said different things, or simply because the media dramatized the entire incident.

But she still spoke to him as little as possible. And simply glared at any female he was ever in company of. Deep down, he wished he could do something to prove to her that he hadn't had an affair. But he couldn't, because of one lonely confused night as the relationship ended.

It hadn't helped that some girls gave reports to local papers of torrid affairs with him. They weren't true, and appeared almost exclusively in tabloids, but enough people believed them that they proved to be difficult to deal with. Just about every public appearance he had ended with references to his affairs.

His routine didn't particularly change, though. He found himself alone far too often. Usually after a match or practice he'd simply go home, as he had when he was married. But often he wound up drinking and wallowing. It was depressing to even think about.

His friends tried to help. Ron and Hermione invited him out with them a bunch of times. But he usually used quidditch as an excuse to not go. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his friends, it was just that he felt like a third-wheel in their budding romance.

Eventually he started to go out a bit, usually just to the bars around Grimmauld place. He'd grab something to eat and drink in a public place. Mostly he went out in Muggle London, and it was nice to not usually be recognized and asked about his personal life.

Others invited him out as well. He went out a couple of times with Felicity, but nothing had come of it. Bill and Fleur dragged him out on occasion as well. He'd even run into Dean Thomas in a pub and had a pretty fun night.

But that was the problem. His life became more oriented about simply drinking. He barely paid attention to the Tornadoes. For a few months he just hadn't cared about Quidditch, and it had affected his performance. It was probably his fault they were knocked out in their first playoff game by the Catapults. His heart certainly hadn't been in it. They'd barely made the playoffs, but could have probably made a run had Lynch not beaten him to that snitch.

He took a moment then to check on Lynch, who was still just trailing him. He pulled into a feint, zooming toward the ground, but Lynch didn't take the bait, and instead just circled around the stadium, lowering himself as he did to be able to follow Harry when he finally pulled out of the dive.

But there was still no sign of the twitch, and the chasers were putting on am incredible show, so he simply kept flying, determined to not let Lynch beat him the same way that he had in his last game with the Tornadoes.

After that game a new part of his life started. He didn't know it at the time, but things would get better soon. Although he soon discovered that free agency wasn't as glamorous as he'd imagined.

He couldn't file for free agency until the season was over, but Daphne had him fill out the paperwork, and said she'd take care of it when the finals ended. He cleaned out his locker the day after the loss to the Catapults. Apparently it was bad form, as many thought the Tornadoes would attempt to resign him. But in the end, they didn't even offer a contract. The General Manager made comments to the media that he doubted Harry's commitment to professional quidditch.

He hadn't watched the Harpies win the final. He'd been in a bar instead. It seemed like a better option to him. Part of him wanted Ginny to win, at least she'd be able to salvage the year. Although the divorce hadn't seemed to hinder her play at all. Another part of him wasn't so kind and hoped the Harpies got crushed. When they won, though, he couldn't help but feel happy for her.

But he wouldn't find out they won until the next day. Instead he simply drank heavily at a local bar with someone who seemed vaguely familiar, and enjoyed some fish and chips. He talked quidditch with his new friend for a few moments, which should have struck him as odd, given that he was in a Muggle pub in London, but he was too inebriated to think too hard about that. Eventually, he went home and collapsed drunkenly into bed.

His routine continued for a few weeks after the start of the season. Daphne informed him of some offers, but as she said, nothing he should sign for. So he let her continue to negotiate with teams, not asking for specifics. He probably should have been more aware of what teams were interested, but he trusted Daphne to provide him with options. The only team he wouldn't want to play for, wouldn't let him play for them anyway.

Unfortunately that just led to him forgetting he was supposed to meet Daphne for lunch to discuss the details of his free agency. It was a few weeks into the offseason, and other players had started to sign with teams, including Ginny resigning with the Harpies. But he slept through it. And was rather rudely awoken by a pillow hitting him in the face.

"Well, you're not dead. That means you don't have a legitimate excuse for making me wait," Daphne said from the door.

"Ugh. It can't be lunch time already," Harry responded, sitting up on the bed and rubbing his temples.

"It's not. It's past lunch. And you're incredibly awesome agent is going to get chewed out for being late getting back to work," she responded.

"Just tell him I was being an especially bitchy client," he yawned and curled back into the bed.

"Oh I will," she said, summoning another pillow to her before throwing it at him. "Now get up and get your ass cleaned up and dressed."

"How about you join me instead?" Harry teased. He wasn't sure how he'd respond if she actually took him up on that offer. But he knew that she wouldn't.

"Don't make me go get Kreacher. He mentioned something about liking to hit things with frying pans. That would probably be effective," she said with a faux sweetness. He groaned and sat up.

"Fine. I'm up. I'm sorry I stood you up for lunch, but as you can see it wasn't fully intentional," he said, stretching a bit.

"You're forgiven, but that's not the point," She said.

"Then what is?" he yawned.

"You need to be dressed, presentable, and in Ballycastle in a few hours," she explained.

"Ballycastle?" He asked. She interoperated the question quickly enough.

"They're the only team that offered you anything near what you're worth. And the only team that seemed interested in you for more than simply having Harry Potter." She took out a piece of paper and floated it over to him. He nearly gagged when he saw the amount of money he'd make over the next five years. It was considerably more than what Ginny resigned for.

"Wow. You were right, they do like to throw money around," Harry laughed.

"Indeed. Sign it and bring it with you," she ordered. "Oh, and I didn't realize you knew Titus Button."

"I don't," he said. "Well, at least as anything more than a beater on the Bats."

"Really? Apparently he was instrumental in convincing the Bats to go after you. Anyway, the press conference is at seven, make sure you're actually there." She turned and left then. He got out of bed and read over the contract before showering. He changed into some nice clothing and found Daphne waiting in his kitchen.

"You're still here?" he said.

"Someone has to make sure you actually get to Ballycastle," she commented. "And someone had to make sure Kreacher actually fed you, too." She gestured to a plate of food. He just sat at the counter and ate quietly, feeling somewhat like a small child.

"I don't need a mother, you know," he said, intending to sound like he was joking, but it came off a tad harsher than that. Daphne didn't seem to mind.

"That's actually debatable. But you're forgetting that I have a vesting interest in you getting paid by Ballycastle, too," she teased. He just shook his head and laughed.

Eventually, they left for the Ballycastle stadium. It was located just outside of the small, mostly magical city, tucked near the coast. He and Daphne were led through the press, past the flashes of cameras and into the bowels of the stadium to the media room.

The event itself was pretty standard. There were only a few reporters, and a couple of the Bats, the mascot, and a few club officials. He had his picture taken while holding up a Bats jersey. The black and red would take some getting used to after the blue of the Tornadoes.

He answered a few questions for the press, mostly basic stuff about what he was looking forward to at Ballycastle, and why he decided to leave the Tornadoes. He was very nice to his old team. He didn't see the point in burning bridges, even if his lack of performance in his third season had already done that.

Finally, he was presented with the Bats' broom, a modified Nimbus, and has his picture taken holding that up as well. Once the media bits were over, he was given a tour of the facilities by the owner and a couple of his new teammates. He didn't really recognize them out of uniform, and figured admitting that would be a bad idea.

They stopped in the locker room last, where he deposited the broom and his jersey was placed into his locker to more pictures. The locker room wasn't organized the same way as the Tornadoes. His jersey was placed between a hanging '18' of Button, and the '12' of Williams.

"We don't use the standard numbering system here," the owner said. "We know you've always worn seven, but figured we'd let you choose."

"Alright," Harry said. He'd never really cared about his number before, having the choice was an interesting concept. He'd have to give it some thought. "I'll get back to you on that."

"Be quick," The owner laughed. "People are already ordering Potter jerseys."

"Good to know," Harry responded with his own laugh. After a few more moments the media frenzy ended, and most of the people left. Harry was left organizing things in his locker, wondering just how the next season would go. He examined the broom briefly, looking it over for any fault.

"Wouldn't look at that too closely," someone said from his side.

"Why's that?" Harry said, looking at the person who'd sat in the chair in front of Button's locker.

"That's last year's model. They'll give us a new one before practices start up," the man said, leaning back in his chair.

"I'm sorry, you are?" Harry said. The figure laughed.

"Titus Button. I'm surprised you don't remember me, we got plastered in a pub during the finals," the Ballycastle captain said.

"That was you?" Harry asked. "I was too drunk to notice."

"Yes, you were. Now speaking of drunk, we're having a team party at one of the local pubs and I'm obligated to bring you along," Button said.

"Well, we shouldn't keep them waiting," Harry said, standing.

"You're right, we shouldn't," Button said as he led Harry over to the locker room floo. He gave him the password to use for when he was coming back, and tossed some powder in. He said the name of the pub and then pulled Harry through the fire.

He found himself in a small, crowded pub with lots of talking and loud music. He was pulled toward and sat between the Ballycastle keeper and one of the chasers. Jason Williams smiled at him across the table.

"So we're stuck on the same team again, Potter?" the chaser asked. Harry looked at him.

"Seems that way," he responded dryly. Williams laughed and handed him a beer. Harry took it and drank deeply. He spent the next few hours drinking and being introduced to his new teammates. The pub provided them with a bunch of food, too, which was nice. Harry got the feeling it was a place they often frequented. But the most surprising part of the evening came later, as the part was starting to wind down. A few of the players had left, although the pub was still packed when he heard a quiet voice yell behind him.

"Harry?" he turned and faced it.

"Luna!" he exclaimed. He was far from sober. The petite blonde girl had a slight blush, like she had also had a bit to drink, or was just embarrassed to be talking to him.

"I heard you signed with Ballycastle," she yelled over the din of the crowd.

"I did! Why are you here?" he asked. He hadn't spoken with Luna in over a year. She'd sent him a nice letter hoping him the best when the divorce occurred, but that had been it.

"I live in Ballycastle," she said. He took a moment to look at her. She wore a sweater, despite the warmth, with the sleeves falling to the middle of her palms. Her hair was pulled back into a loose braid. It looked like he could undo it by simply sliding his hands through her hair. Of course, that thought made him want to do just that. He almost reached out and did it. But then he remembered he was holding a beer.

"Cool!" he yelled, drinking more beer. "I'm going to play for Ballycastle." Wait. Hadn't they established that? He couldn't remember.

"I know," she laughed. "We're all really excited!"

"For what?" he asked, finishing up the beer.

"For you to win us another title!"

"I'll do my best!" he yelled. "So what are you doing?"

"I'm out with some co-workers," she said. "We come here a lot. I don't think they like me, but they let me tag along." She nodded to a table where a group was chatting happily about something. He noticed some of them pointed over to he and Luna.

"How could someone not like you!" Harry said. "You're smart, and funny, and pretty, and fun, and loyal, and" he would have kept listing things but Luna interrupted him.

"And you're drunk," she shook her head.

"Only a bit," Harry defended himself. But he knew it wasn't true.

"No, you may only be a bit drunk in the morning," she laughed.

"I hope not," he said, then paused. "Actually, I don't have any plans!" He took another beer from the table and started drinking it. "Have one too!"

"No thanks, Harry," she smiled weakly at him. "Some of us have to work in the morning."

"Lame excuse," he responded. She just laughed, but she did sit next to him, and the conversation did continue. She had a certain calming presence. He felt strangely happy just talking with her. Happier than he had in a very long time. He didn't remember much more of their conversation. In fact, he didn't even remember when, or how, he left the pub.

He cut back hard, curving around Lynch. The Irish seeker struggled to stay behind him. He remembered that chance meeting with Luna fondly. But he could have never imagined what would come of it. It hadn't even been that long. Just over six months. He couldn't help but be amused at the situation, too. Only one team offered him a contract, and that team happened to be in the same city where Luna had been hiding.

He couldn't explain the effect she had on him. But it wasn't like being around anyone else. There was just something different about her presence, and how she made him feel. It was a welcome relief from how life had been with Ginny. He cut back again, flying directly under Lynch. He pulled into another feint then, Lynch hadn't followed his first attempt, but he figured it couldn't hurt to try again.

The feint worked better than he could have imagined though. Not only did Lynch again decide to not follow him, but he saw the snitch skimming near the grass. He pushed his broom as hard as he can, leveling off just before hitting the ground, and ran down the snitch before the golden ball even knew he was there. Dickerson noticed well before the spectators.

"Potter feints," the announcer yelled. "No wait! He sees the snitch. He's diving right toward it. Lynch has no chance! He levels off and runs it down with ease! England Wins! England Wins! The English have upset the Irish and will move on! Ladies and Gentlemen a snitch catch doesn't get much more textbook than that one!" Dickerson was droned out by the crowd then. Each member of his team came and hugged him, cheering, they all hugged each other cheering along with the crowd. For that brief moment they were united as a team.

It wouldn't last into the locker room though, but Harry didn't care. He handed the snitch to the official who came by and flew off with Titus and Jason. He wanted to be more excited than he was. But he knew he had more matches to play and win. Still, he couldn't help but take Dickerson's closing words to heart.

"It seems, ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "That Harry Potter is trying very hard to silence any of the critics. And, with the Bulgarian team beating just about everyone, we may have a final that could determine just who the best seeker in the world is." Harry couldn't help but like the sound of that. But he just wanted to hoist the trophy above his head. He allowed himself a brief fantasy before focusing back, taking a deep breath, and thinking of just who their next opponent would be.

Author's note: I haven't decided on what Harry's number should be. I was just planning on going with seven, but feel free to PM me with ideas. I'd prefer something that had some sort of importance to him. There's two chapters left to deal with Harry and Luna so they'll be the focus of the rest of the story.

As always thanks for your continued reviews and support, I appreciate them all.

5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Onichun for some beta work. Lord Martiya for the bit about Harry's new number. Thanks to everyone who made a suggestion.

Chapter 5

Sweden

The mood of the locals changed rather quickly. They were still very nice, but now whenever Harry was recognized in the street or a restaurant they commented that they would be rooting against him in his next match. Harry would just smile and comment that Sweden was a very good team, and he'd need to give it his best effort to win. The locals all seemed amused by that as they went on their way.

Of course, the part that amused Harry the most was watching Titus and Jason get continually shot down by cute Swedish girls. It was as if they were suddenly just evil enemies and no one wanted anything to do with them. Jason complained more than Titus, but Harry ignored it.

They had a few days off between the matches. Some of their teammates went back to England to spend a few nights in their own beds, and check up on things at home. Harry had debated doing it as well. But he'd decided to spend the few days in Sweden. He'd been enjoying it. And since Titus and Jason stayed he'd have company.

He couldn't help but wonder how much they'd hang out once they were back playing for Ballycastle. Of the three of them, only Titus actually lived in Ballycastle. Jason lived in Belfast and Harry still primarily resided in London. He did rent a one-bedroom in Ballycastle for nights where practice or a game went long, but it got surprisingly little use. If he spent the night in Ballycastle, it wasn't often at his place.

Still, thinking back to that first night reminded him of how, in one simple move, Titus and the rest of the Bats had made him feel like a teammate.

"You know, Titus," he said as they enjoyed an afternoon walk, the primary goal of which was to find a new bar for the evening. "I don't think I ever thanked you for that party the night I signed. It was a nice touch."

"You don't need to thank me," Titus responded. "Although I do appreciate the sentiment, it's a team tradition to get the newbie hammered."

"Really? How long has that been a tradition for?"

"Since they made me Captain," Titus said.

"You'll notice just about all of his new traditions involve alcohol, too," Jason said.

"That's why they're so much fun!" Titus argued. Jason rolled his eyes as Harry just laughed.

"Or you're just covering up for being a lush," Harry commented. Titus shrugged in a way that suggested he didn't think that was the case, but wouldn't be particularly bothered if it was.

"My party was better than yours, anyway," Jason teased. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"It was," Titus agreed. "See usually we leave the player in a drunken stupor in the bar and see how long it takes them to realize where they are and get out. Typically it's the next afternoon. But you wound up going home with that blonde girl you like now. It really ruined our fun."

"Well I am infinitely sorry about that," Harry laughed.

"You're not, but we appreciate the thought," Jason commented.

"I'm sure you don't. You were probably waiting outside the bar with cameras hoping Harry Potter did something stupid," he teased.

"We do that anyway," Titus said. "Sadly, no one is that interested in buying the photos."

"No one besides every major newspaper in the United Kingdom?" Harry asked.

"Well yes, but that would just lead to bad press for the Bats and then you'd start sucking again like you did at Tutshill," Jason commented.

"And you do have to think of the team first," Titus added with a stern nod.

"You guys are assholes," Harry said with a smile and a shake of his head. They just agreed with him as they continued to search for a place to drink and dine that evening. Harry couldn't help but think back to the party that he blearily remembered and the morning after that may have changed his life.

He wasn't sure if he woke up because he simply wasn't tired anymore, or if the throbbing headache woke him. Either way he wasn't particularly happy about it. He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. It smelled rather unfamiliar, but nice, so he didn't take much account into it.

Harry realized that he should probably be more concerned about not knowing where he was after a drunken night so he rolled over and glanced around. He was in a small studio apartment. The bed resided in one corner of the room. He saw what could only be a bathroom in another corner. There were next to no other furnishings in the room. A couch, which had a pillow and blanket spread out on it, making him assume someone slept there the night before, was in the center of the room, next to a couple of small chairs and a coffee table. By the entrance there was a pretty standard kitchen, a counter and two bar stools separated it from the rest of the apartment.

He lifted himself out of the bed, groggily placing his feet on the floor. He still had his socks on. And his jeans. He wasn't sure if that was a particularly good or bad thing. He didn't have a shirt on, though. Nor was he sure where his shirt was. And the inside of his mouth tasted like alcohol mixed with sick. That was never a good sign.

Harry took a moment to just rub his temples and try to prevent the apartment from spinning. It took him a minute to attempt to recount everything he'd consumed the night before. It wasn't a particularly pretty list.

He reached toward his pocket to find his wand. He wasn't sure what he was going to cast, but something to cool his head would be pleasant. Or maybe just a stunning spell. But his wand wasn't in his pocket. That was a bad sign. He tried to look through the bed, assuming it fell out of his pocket as he slept, but he couldn't find any sign of it.

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to not panic. He was sure there was an explanation for it, and freaking out at this point simply wouldn't help. He quickly checked the bedside table, it wasn't there. So he did his best to calm himself and get back to feeling normal.

When he felt coherent enough to stand he did. The room still spun a bit, but he maintained his balance and worked his way over toward the counter. It took fifteen of the most unstable steps he could remember, but he made it to one of the stools. Thankfully, they had backs, and he didn't have to worry about falling out of it. Regardless, he leaned onto the counter for extra support. He hated hangovers.

He lifted his head to look for a clock. It was just after noon and he was hungry, but he didn't want to intrude on whoever's apartment it was. Still, after a moment, he couldn't resist and moved over toward the fridge. It was far too neatly organized for his tastes, but he let that slide. The top shelf was filled with neatly organized bottled water, he took one out and drank half of it on one go before peering back into the fridge.

There wasn't much junk food. Some fruit, but nothing he was overly fond of. And nothing that he particularly wanted to eat while hung over. He decided to look through the cabinets, but that was interrupted by the sound of a lock turning in the door. He sat back down at the stool and looked over toward the door. He couldn't help but feel a bit strange. He doubted he was in any danger, but not having his wand didn't particularly help that feeling.

The cute little blonde that walked in, though, was far from imposing. Sure, he knew she was fully capable of putting up a rather serious fight, but Luna Lovegood didn't scare him. She looked rather surprised to see him, though.

"Oh Harry. You're awake. I'm actually amazed," she said, giving him a small smile.

"How much did I drink?" He asked, a bit surprised by her comments. He gazed at her as she hung her bag on a hook near the door. She wore khaki shorts and a green polo shirt with an unusual animal patch. She also had a thin, long sleeved green shirt on underneath the polo.

"Enough," she responded. "You didn't leave the bar until it closed at two, and you kept me up babbling until at least three thirty."

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. She rolled her eyes.

"You should be. I had to be to work at seven."

"Ouch," he responded. She nodded a bit and yawned.

"And I'm only half done. I figured I'd come home for lunch and check on you, to make sure you're not dead." She stretched and walked over toward the fridge and started to sort through it.

"I'm alive. Although I do feel a bit like a zombie," he claimed. "How, uh, was work?" the question came out quite a bit more awkward than he would have liked. She plucked an orange out of the fridge and leaned against the counter.

"It's much better when coherent," she responded, peeling the orange.

"I don't believe you've ever told me where you work," he said. She pulled a slice of orange out and ate it.

"We had an hour long conversation about it last night," Luna replied. Harry felt his face flush.

"I don't remember much of last night," he admitted before taking another quick sip of his water. She looked slightly disappointed.

"I work at the Ballycastle Zoo," she stated. "I give tours mostly." He looked at her for a moment. It certainly explained the small apartment, as he doubted she made a great deal of money giving tours. But last he knew she had made a fairly nice amount from selling The Quibbler.

"That actually sounds fun," he admitted, he recalled that she had always enjoyed animals.. She shrugged a little bit.

"I enjoy it," she admitted.

"How long have you been doing it?" Harry asked.

"You really don't remember anything from last night?" she asked in response. Harry didn't like the way that sounded. Had he done something stupid? What had Luna expected when he woke up?

"Not really. I remember you coming over to talk to me at the bar, but that's about it," he admitted.

"Well we have had this conversation," she said. "I've been working there since shortly after I sold dad's paper to a few of the contributors."

"They've done a nice job with it," he said. He'd made a point to buy issues when he saw them, since they published his interview in fifth year. Since the sale it had become more legitimate, often discussing fledgling spells and theories on creatures.

"I don't think dad would like it," she admitted. "But it is certainly more profitable now."

"I like it," Harry commented, as if his actual opinion mattered. She gave him a brief, yet sad, smile. He probably should have asked if she liked it, rather than worrying about appeasing her opinion of her father. But he hadn't thought about it. And, as he went to ask, she changed the subject.

"How rude of me, though," she said while finishing off her orange. "I haven't asked if you've eaten anything yet."

"I haven't," he admitted. "Haven't even showered or brushed my teeth. I woke up maybe ten minutes ago."

"Well why don't you go clean up, and put your shirt back on, it's in the bathroom. I'll make you a sandwich," she said, moving back toward the fridge.

"You don't have to do that," he commented, lifting himself off of the stool. The room was spinning less, which was a plus.

"I insist. Ham or turkey?" she asked. He pondered it for a moment.

"Ham," he responded. She nodded.

"Alright, go shower. It'll be done by the time you're out," she ordered. He walked slowly to the bathroom. She was being incredibly nice, which was good because he wasn't sure if he could compute anything else at the point.

Of course, as he turned on the shower, he couldn't help but wonder just what had transpired the night before. He really didn't remember anything, and he hoped he hadn't done anything too stupid. He washed quickly. He was a little skeptical of using Luna's fruity smelling shampoo, but there wasn't an alternative readily available, so he did.

When he finished he toweled off quickly and dressed in the clothing he'd worn the night before. He felt better now that he was clean, but he did really need to eat something. He went to use his wand to clean the towel he'd used, but he remembered he didn't have it. He stepped out of the bathroom and asked.

"Hey Luna, do you have my wand?" he walked back toward the counter. She had her back to him as she worked near the sink.

"What? Oh, yea. It's right here," she said. It was resting on the counter in front of where he'd been sitting.

"Please tell me it wasn't there the entire time," he said as he approached the counter.

"No. When we got back here last night you decided my apartment wasn't yellow enough. So you did everything in your power to make it very yellow. I had to confiscate it. Meant to leave it here for you, but forgot it was in my purse, sorry," she said as she turned and placed a paper plate in front of him. It was a ham and swiss sandwich and a mountain of potato chips on it. She also placed a dish with a sliced up apple in it next to the plate.

"Wow. Sorry about that. And you really didn't have to do this," he said looking at the food.

"Just being nice, Harry," Luna said. "Now eat." He obliged, picking up the sandwich and taking a large bite out of it. Luna leaned back onto the counter and picked a few chips off of his plate and ate them slowly.

"Thanks," Harry said after eating the first half of the sandwich.

"No problem," she responded. After a few more bites he couldn't help but ask the question that had been bothering him. Luna was usually brutally honest, so he figured he'd get the truth.

"So what happened last night?"

"Nothing," she said as she picked up another chip. "We talked for a while about all sorts of things at the bar. Eventually it closed and you were in no condition to apparated or floo so I took you back here. You tried to paint my apartment and eventually collapsed on the bed."

"I'm pretty awful," Harry admitted with a slight laugh. He felt rather relieved he hadn't done something he'd regret. Of course, she could have been lying, but Harry didn't think she was.

"Yes, but it was fairly cute," she commented.

"Cute? That's the last thing I need to be," he teased. She rolled her eyes.

"Actually, cute would probably be better than thoughtless playboy," she said.

"Probably, hopefully there weren't any reporters around," Harry responded. He didn't want to see Luna's name added to the list of people he'd done various nefarious things with since the divorce.

"I think they all went home early after your press conference," she said. "The paper was filled with articles about the Bats chances now that they have Harry Potter at seeker. And the possibility of having three Bats playing on the English National Team. Naturally, they wish you were Irish, but you may sway some loyalties."

"We're going to win the title," Harry said.

"Very confident. The papers seem to think you're spectacular when your head is in it, but lazy otherwise," Luna responded.

"Well I had a bad year. It won't happen again," Harry said as sternly as he could.

"Good. I hope it doesn't," she responded as she finished off his chips. He was working on the apple slices when an owl flew through the open window and dropped a letter on him before flying off. He recognized the owl, so he simply opened he letter and read. As he was reading, Luna asked.

"Who's that from?"

"Daphne," he said, skimming over what his agent had written.

"What does she want?"

"She's annoyed that I'm not readily contactable. And says they want me at Ballycastle stadium tonight for a small autograph session. And they want to know what number I want to wear this year."

"Not going to wear seven?" she asked.

"I hadn't thought about it, really. Ballycastle lets you pick your number. It's a new era in my life, maybe I should change the number I've worn since Hogwarts," Harry admitted.

"Probably, did you have anything in mind?" Luna asked. She took the now empty apple dish and put it into the sink. She then took the empty paper plate, folded it in half and threw it away.

"No," Harry said. "I was going to think about it last night, but I got side tracked."

"That you did. You're looking for something that marks a new era in your life?"

"Ideally. But I'm probably going to just go with seven. You know, it works." But Luna was ignoring him. She had that familiar dreamy expression that he hadn't seen in years and appeared to be deep in thought.

"Vixi," she said.

"Excuse me?" he responded.

"It's Latin. It means 'I lived' except they usually used it when identifying dead soldiers." Harry actually liked the sound of that. He had lived, twice.

"Well that's interesting, Luna, but I need a number not a word," he responded dryly. She laughed.

"Numerals, Harry. Six and eleven. Wear seventeen. It's also how old you were when the war ended," she suggested. Harry looked at her for a few minutes then nodded.

"I think I will," he said. He could picture the blood-red seventeen on the back of the black jersey. He rather liked it in his mind.

"Good, I will be needing payment for my creativity, though," Luna said. Harry looked up at her.

"Payment?" he asked.

"Yes. Since I have the jersey from your first win with the Tornadoes, I want the jersey from your first win with Ballycastle," she stated matter-of-factly. Harry gazed around the apartment.

"What did you do with that jersey?" Harry asked. She looked down at the counter.

"It's hanging in my closet. I was going to get it framed, but that seemed a tad too obsessively fan girl for me," she admitted.

"Well, when I win my first match with Ballycastle, I'll make sure you get the jersey. I'll try to make sure it's not as covered in alcohol, too," he said.

"That would be appreciated," she gave him a full smile that seemed to brighten up her entire face. "But I should probably be getting back to work. I'm stretching my break a tad too long. There's aspirin above the sink, if you like."

"Thanks. I think I would. How far is your apartment from the stadium?" he asked.

"A couple miles, it's a tad outside of town. But you can walk if you want, just head left once outside, you'll run into it eventually. I'd have thought you'd just want to floo."

"The exercise will do me good," he responded.

"Probably, I really do have to get back to work, though," she said, moving toward her purse.

"I should get to the stadium to prepare too," he said. He picked his wand off the counter and moved with her to the door. As they left the apartment building together he looked at her and spoke one last time.

"Really, Luna, thanks. I appreciate it," he said. She just smiled at him, a warm yet sad smile that made him want to see her again soon, but he couldn't think of what to say to make that a reality. And, after a few moments they simply went their separate ways.

The match against Sweden was surprisingly even. Harry had expected their chasers would have the advantage. Certainly they had the better scoring pedigree. But the Swedish chasers played incredible defense and were far more physical than most of their continental counterparts. Harry would have rather liked to see them go up against the Canadian chasers. That would have been a good game. The Swedish style of play was hindering the English bunch. Only Jason really liked to play physically. Ginny and Katie preferred the finesse approach.

Compounding matters was the fact that the young Swedish keeper was putting on a clinic, as she had the entire tournament. Harry knew Oliver would never admit it, but he expected their keeper was in love. Even Harry had to admit he was impressed when she made a completely blind save as he screened her.

The crowd was entirely behind their team too. Harry hadn't ever seen so much yellow and blue in his life. The crowns on the players' jerseys started to blur into one as they sped by. Harry focused on the match, though. The score was even at thirty, despite each team having ten shots, and many more chances. If it came down to a chaser struggle, he expected Sweden would probably prevail simply because of their style. But he didn't expect them to create a larger gap than fifty points.

The key to the Swedes success had been Kronwall with the snitch. His play had been nothing short of incredible. Their first match had ended in a World Cup record of two minutes and thirty seven seconds. Some league matches had been faster, but never in the Cup. Kronwall was billeted as the second coming of Viktor Krum. He was young, just eighteen, and very talented. Of course, Harry was young and immensely talented as well, and he was very determined to prove he was better than the Swedish kid. Of course, he expected the Swedish kid thought the exact same thing.

Kronwall was proving to be a competent opponent. His reputation for quick matches allowed him to almost catch Harry in a feint to start the game. But Harry had passed the Swede in the dive. He liked the think there wasn't a single seeker in the world that was faster in a dive than he was. It had certainly surprised Kronwall when he'd just zoomed by and cut him off completely.

Still, he needed to decide soon if he was going to focus on the snitch, or helping the English chasers. Titus and Gwenog were doing their best to help the chasers,and Kronwall was focusing on Harry. He knew letting the Swedish seeker focus on the snitch while he helped the chasers would likely end badly for his team. He had to think of which strategy he'd use to win this match.

It didn't take him long. He'd have to find Titus in a down period and tell the beater what to do. One of their favorite strategies at the Bats would work well in this situation. He just had to get the signal to Titus.

Luna was right. Eventually, he did wind up at the stadium. Unfortunately he wasn't as early as he hoped. There were already some reporters and fans gathered outside cheering. Some even had signs. Harry waved as he walked past and toward the main gate. A security guard directed him inside and he found a service door to the lower levels of the stadium. He walked past the visitor's locker room and entered the home locker room. To his surprise, Titus Button, the Ballycastle coach, and the Ballycastle General Manager were there.

"Hello Mr. Potter," the coach said, offering his hand.

"Harry or Potter please," Harry responded as he shook the man's hand. "It'll be weird if you're screaming mister when I screw up."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I'm Sam Byron. Coach or Coach Byron works the best."

"A pleasure," Harry said, turning toward the General Manager and offering his hand.

"James Wilson," the manager said with a shake. "I was told you were deciding on your number?" He nodded toward the locker where a numberless Potter jersey hung.

"Seventeen," Harry said. Wilson nodded and snapped his fingers. An elf appeared, wearing a small Ballycastle uniform. Wilson gave it a quick order and the elf got to work. Harry wasn't sure exactly how the creature did it, but the fabric on the uniform shifted. A seventeen appeared on each of the sleeves, underneath the small Bats logo on the shoulder, and another larger one on the back. Harry walked over to it and stared at it for a moment. It looked odd, having two numbers on the back as opposed to one, but he'd take it.

"It looks good," Wilson said.

"It does," Titus nodded. "And it's one less than me. Which still makes me better." Harry rolled his eyes.

"How long until the signing?" he asked.

"One hour," Wilson responded. Harry nodded and picked the new broom up from his locker.

"I'm going to go give this a spin then, if you don't mind," he said, weighing the broom in his hands.

"Not if you don't mind us watching," Coach Byron added.

"Fine by me," he said as he turned and walked toward the pitch.

He didn't do anything particularly entertaining as he flew around. Mostly he just did some laps and some dives. He wanted to compare the Bat to the Tornado. They were fairly comparable. The Nimbus felt a little more stable, but a tad slower than his old Cleansweep. But neither difference seemed large enough to affect game performance. After a few moments he noticed Titus Button was floating near the center of the pitch, just looking at him as he flew past. Eventually, Harry floated up next to him.

"You're not half bad for someone with a hangover," Button commented. "Or did the cute blonde you left with help with that?"

"No, but the five mile walk to the stadium did," Harry responded. He still wasn't quite sure what to think of Titus, but he seemed like a good bloke.

"I bet it did. As will signing hundreds of brand new Potter jerseys later," the beater smirked.

"No, that'll just hurt my wrist," Harry deadpanned.

"That too. What do you say we put on a show?" he asked.

"Well we only have about a half hour, what did you have in mind?" Harry asked.

"That's easy. I'll be the bludger," he said and quickly turned his broom right at Harry, who barely avoided him by spinning his broom over and flying in the other direction. Button tried to run him down for fifteen minutes before Coach Byron stopped their little game, out of fear that two of his players would wind up hurting each other before the season even started. They landed and started walking back into the stadium.

"You're pretty good, but not quite good enough," Harry teased as they dropped off their brooms and proceeded up toward the atrium.

"Stupid seekers. If all I had to do was fly around and play fetch," Titus shook his head. Harry just laughed and they stepped into the atrium together to a very loud applause from the plethora of fans in attendance.

And his first few weeks at the Bats continued in much that fashion. He was constantly being paraded about as the new big signing. He and Titus started to appear together on tickets and programs, and soon after Jason was brought into the fold after they were spotted together on a night out.

The practices were incredibly smooth. The team clicked on nearly every cylinder. At first, Harry simply felt like an outsider trying to do his part and trying to not upset the chemistry of the team. But they welcomed him rather quickly. Apparently their old seeker could be a bit of a bitch and a downer, Jason's words, and they were actually rather glad to get rid of her. Still, it was incredibly just how quickly he felt assimilated.

He didn't keep in as close of contact with Luna as he'd have liked. He saw her once or twice more in the coming weeks, but he spent more time being out with his teammates in various English and Irish towns, depending on who they followed home. It was fun. There wasn't really an elder veteran on the Bats, the oldest player was the twenty-eight year old keeper, so when they weren't playing quidditch, it felt like a bunch of friends simply going out. Harry loved it.

They had one hell of a party at his London house when it was announced, a few days before the start of the season, that Harry, Jason, and Titus we going to play for England in the World Cup. Most of his perspective teammates joined them, as did many friends and family. Luna even stopped by for a bit, but left early, again using the work excuse. Harry had heard there had been some rumblings about his spot on the team. But an English seeker hadn't caught a snitch in far too long and it came down to a vote of the other players on the team and the starters voted four to two of having him on the team.

Eventually, the Bats first match approached. It was at home against the Wasps. He took the time to visit the ticket office in person and leave a few for friends. Daphne had requested ticket, although she could have probably gotten into the press box, as had Ron and Hermione and Bill, Fleur and Gabrielle. He'd also sent a letter to Luna earlier telling her he'd leave a ticket for her.

He arrived at the stadium via the players' floo a few hours before the game. Titus was already in uniform. He paced up and down the locker room as others filtered in. Harry stripped down and pulled on dark bats shirt before throwing his jersey on over it. He grabbed his broom and walked through the underground tunnels to the pitch.

The chasers were already warming up and the seeker usually helped them with drills before matches. Williams tossed a quaffle at him as they started to warm up. Harry tossed it back as they flew around the hoops. He still didn't particularly like Williams, but the chaser was growing on him a bit.

The keeper and the beaters joined them a few minutes later. They took turns taking shots at the keeper, taking the time to warm her up. The wasps flew out onto the pitch and commenced their own warm-up. Eventually the chasers focused a bit more on the keeper and Harry just floated above their zone. He typically talked to Felicity at this point when playing for the Tornadoes, but wasn't sure of the Bats pregame routines. After a few minutes, though, Titus floated up by him. They chatted about nothing before flying back to the locker room.

Titus didn't give a speech. He was far too mellow of a Captain for that, and they were professionals. They knew that in the grand scheme of things, one game wasn't the end of the world, but winning was preferred to losing. Harry in particular wanted to make sure his first game was a success.

They waited. Next to the reporters, Harry's least favorite part of professional quidditch was the wait between the warm-ups and the actual game. He sat in front of his locker and gave his broom one last check-up before the match. It was mostly a ritual designed to appease boredom.

Twenty minutes later they returned to the pitch and did another quick warm up before all the fanfare of opening night. Of all the players introduced, Titus got the loudest cheer, but Harry's wasn't far off.

The teams lined up for the match. They quaffle flew into the air and the match commenced. Really, there wasn't much to be said about it. It was an entertaining match, at least for Bats fans, for the seven minutes and twelve seconds that it lasted.

Of course, it wasn't without bumps for the team. The opening draw was messed up when Harry flew the wrong way. And he and Williams mixed their signs once, which resulted in a near collision and a turnover. There were a few more minor mishaps with locations, too. Harry suspected that after five minutes of match play the chasers wished they hadn't signed him.

But at the six and a half minute mark when he pulled into a steep climb, that eventually turned into a ninety degree turn. He couldn't help but smirk at the collective gasp from the crowd as he shot off upside down. The crowd cheered again as he switched that into a dive. The Wasps seeker attempted to foul him, but he managed to avoid it easily enough. Forty-two seconds after he'd pulled into the climb, he snatched the golden ball out of the air in front of him.

He held it up for a moment before flying off toward an official to have the catch confirmed. The official handed it back to him before announcing the final score, 190-10. The Bats mugged him, clasping him on the back and cheering. It would rank as the fourth quickest match in Bats history. The second quickest win.

It didn't take him too long to detangle from his teammates. He flew over to the friends and family section of the stands and found Luna sitting next to Ron and Hermione. She was cheering with the rest of the Ballycastle fans. He floated just in front of their seats and much to the surprise of the crowd he pulled off his jersey. The crowd cheered as he held it up and dropped it right onto Luna. There was plenty of laughing mixed with cheers as she tried to hide her bright red face in the jersey.

He joined the rest of the team in the locker room then. He changed quickly, accepting congratulations from his teammates while declining a dinner invitation. He'd made late dinner plans with his friends after the match, so he left to meet them.

He cut around Kronwall and tried to catch Button's eye. It didn't work. So he cut around and tried to get Jones's attention, hoping he could get her to call a time out. She appraised him briefly, her expression seemed to be 'you're not hurt, we're not stopping play.' He could understand the sentiment.

After a few more minutes with no sign of the snitch he caught up with Button right after he'd hit a bludger at one of the Swedish chasers.

"Hey, Titus, rattle Kronwall for me," Harry said. Titus looked at him, seeming a little surprised. Harry didn't ask for help much.

"Why?" Titus asked. Harry flew with him for a few moments as Titus raced off toward another bludger.

"He's having too easy of a game. And I want to help the chasers about a bit," Harry said.

"Like we did with Potree?" Button asked.

"Exactly," Harry commented before cutting around to join the chasers on a rush. He saw the next bludger surprise Kronwall and smirked a bit, knowing full well that Titus would make the Swedish seeker's life a living hell for the rest of the game. He sped ahead of the chasers and weaved through the opposition's defensive setup. Ginny and Katie followed, taking full advantage of the momentary disruption. Katie scored after a quick pass from Ginny.

He fell back on defense then, choosing to hover around the middle of the pitch to put himself in the best position to look for the snitch and possibly disrupt the Swedish rush. His goal was to make the Swedish chasers feel like they were playing three against four. But he could only accomplish it if he didn't have to worry about Kronwall. He saw another bludger spiral toward the Swede and continued helping the chasers.

Of course he fully expected the Swedish beaters to start focusing on him. But when that happened he'd simply fly away from the play, hopefully drawing the beaters away from the action for a while. When they ignored him, he'd resume being a pest. He'd expected Kronwall to try that. But his strategy seemed to be focus on the snitch. It was probably the Swedes best bet for winning the match.

His thoughts wandered as his eyes focused on the snitch. His little jersey display with Luna became a sort of Bats gimmick. After his win, they made a tradition out of it. After every home win, one of the players gave away their jersey to a random fan. He wondered how long it would last, but the fans seemed to love it.

He thought back to the dinner after the game. It had been fun. He'd chatted happily with Bill and Fleur for a while, Fleur expressing her happiness that he seemed to be doing better. Gabrielle sulked for a bit, but he cheered her up by giving her the snitch from the win. Of course that led to her flirting incessiantly with him, which was rather uncomfortable. So he turned is attention to Ron, Hermione, and Luna. Luna mostly sat quietly and interjected things when she was directly asked.

Hermione didn't press about whatever relationship they may have had. Ron looked like he wanted to, but a couple of glares from Hermione ended whatever notion he had of that. He was glad they didn't ask though, because he couldn't have given them an answer. He really didn't know. She'd been his friend. She'd always been his friend, when that was exactly what he'd needed. Funny how quickly that could change.

The Bats started out on fire. They beat everyone, and beat them handily. The local media lamented that the World Cup would split the season. But most media sources liked the new late September date more than the previous date. And the teams would rather have their players practicing and playing before simply starting international play.

Harry spent his summer winning matches and hanging out with his new teammates. He had a blast. The coach even went easy on them in practice because of how badly they were beating everyone. He tried to spend more time with Luna, but she often gave him excuses why she was too busy, and he usually didn't press. He did rent a small apartment in town, not too far from where Titus lived, mostly because he felt like having someplace to stay if need be. He wouldn't admit it, but only having one home felt a tad strange.

It came in handy, though, especially on those nights when he'd reluctantly agree to go out drinking with Jason and Titus. But it was also on one such morning when he ate a morning meal at a local café that he saw an ad for the local zoo. The team had a few days off before a home match against Falmouth and he hadn't seen Luna since his first match with the Bats, and he figured he'd rectify that.

Harry found the zoo quickly. It was a warm weekend and the place was packed with families. He wandered around the zoo, paying little attention to the animals and instead looking mostly at the tour guides. They were, by and large, and attractive bunch with their short khaki shorts and polo shirts. But Harry didn't see the one he was looking for anywhere in the mix.

It didn't take him long to figure out the pattern of the tours though, so he parked himself near the big cats exhibit, which appeared to be where the tours started. He watched the lions for a minute. Cats were funny. They didn't look bothered. Of course, if he slept sixteen hours a day, he probably wouldn't be bothered either. He thought briefly about getting a cat, but he still hadn't replaced Hedwig and that seemed more practical.

After a few moments he heard the melodic voice he was looking for. She happily explained the feeding schedule of the lions. One of the children in the tour timidly asked of the lions ate people. Luna quelled his fears with a gentle voice. Harry couldn't help but smile at it.

He followed lazily behind the tour, fully aware that he was receiving a service he hadn't paid for, but he'd make a donation to the zoo later. He doubted the guide would mind. She didn't seem to notice him as she led the group around. But Harry doubted she didn't know he was there. Luna always seemed to know what was going on around her, despite that her wide eyes always made her look a little surprised.

The next stop was the monkey habitat, but he paid more attention to the guide than the animals. She hadn't done much with her hair, it fell down her back like a rather luscious blonde curtain. She wore a pair of white tennis shoes, along with khaki shorts and a green polo shirt that must have been the zoo uniform. She had a thin, long-sleeved green shirt on underneath the polo, which struck him as odd as it wasn't particularly cold out. Still, he rather liked looking at her as she walked. It was a nice view.

They ducked inside to a reptile house next. There may have been some bats or other nocturnal things too, Harry didn't really pay that close of attention. He found a cage of snakes and stared at them. Luna let the tour group look around the small building themselves, but answered any questions they had. After a few moments he heard her speak from his side.

"Are they saying anything interesting?" she asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I haven't been able to talk to them since Voldemort died."

"That's sad," she said as one of the tour members ran up between them.

"Miss Luna!" the boy exclaimed. "Brian told me that snakes eat their pray whole and it just sits inside of them!"

"Some do," she said.

"That's gross!" the child exclaimed.

"It can be a bit strange, but I'm sure they'd find watching you eat gross too," Luna teased lightly. The boy laughed and ran off. She turned back to Harry. "That's a shame. It must have been a handy skill to have."

"I don't know. Every time I had to use it I was usually in some type of life-threatening situation. So it's actually a relief to not have to deal with it," he admitted.

"That's a good point," she said quietly. "I notice you joined my tour a bit late, too. I'm assuming you didn't pay."

"Caught me," he said. "But I'll make a nice donation to the zoo for the fantastic guide."

"That works," she said, blushing ever so slightly. "Now I have to get back to the tour." She stood and started to round up the people in her tour. Harry lazily followed them out.

He stayed a bit further behind the tour group as he followed them. They traveled past some African animals, mostly elephants, rhinos and giraffes. Harry didn't particularly care and mostly just sat on nearby benches as Luna gave her speeches about the animals. He didn't speak up until the zebras, which came after the gazelles.

"What about unicorns or something more fun?" he asked. Luna looked startled. It was mostly Muggles that attended the zoo.

"Unicorns don't exist mister," one of the boys in the tour said.

"You don't know that," Luna said with a cute smile. "Just because we haven't caught one doesn't mean they don't exist." The boy looked rather skeptical.

"Unicorns exist?" one of the girls asked, looking slightly awed by the possibility.

"I don't know," Luna lied. "But I'd certainly like to think they do. There isn't anything saying they don't exist." Some the parents looked a little cross, but they didn't comment.

"I think they're made up," the boy responded rather tersely.

"They could be. But I'd rather believe there's all sorts of things that exist that we're not entire sure what are. In fact, scientists discover all sorts of new species every day," Luna responded happily. A few of the younger kids appeared to be in awe of her.

"Really?" the skeptical boy asked.

"Really," Luna responded. "Granted, it's usually smaller things, mostly things that aren't even large enough to be seen with your eyes. But still, its new things being discovered. Maybe one day we'll discover unicorns or phoenixes or nargles." Harry couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. The kids were enraptured, too. It was cute. She continued with that train of thought form nearly the rest of the tour. Even the adults were enraptured by the time she finished. Harry noticed that she was smiling more than he'd seen her since their pseudo-date at Slughorn's party. More animated than usual too.

When she finished with the tour she ducked back into a small building with one of those 'employees only' signs on the door. Harry expected she'd come back out and chat with him, although he wasn't sure how much time she'd have before she have to give another tour. But he took the moment to go and purchase two ice cream sandwiches.

He sat on a nearby bench and waited for her to come back out. He didn't have to wait long, at least not long enough for the spare sandwich to start to melt. She walked over to him and he offered the ice cream.

"Thanks," she said, taking it from him. He pretty much had his finished before she unwrapped hers.

"It's not much of a tip for the free tour, but it has got to be better than nothing," Harry joked.

"I just hope you had fun," she said quietly.

"I thought it was fantastic. You're a good guide," he responded. She gave him a weak smile. "And you're great with kids."

"They're fun. They ask surprisingly good questions, usually. And a lot of them haven't seen many of the animals before. I love the expressions," she sounded a bit cheerier talking about kids.

"I've always liked working with kids, too," Harry admitted as he tossed the empty wrapper into a nearby garbage can.

"When do you work with kids?" she asked.

"Off-season camps, mostly. Most teams do one. Spend a week in the summer teaching kids how to play quidditch. There's the occasional community thing, too. Some of the kids can be a bit annoying, but mostly I find it fun," Harry responded.

"I didn't know you did that," Luna said as she finished her own ice cream treat.

"Only done them a couple of times. And they're just brief little summer camp things before the start of the season. The kids that are amazed to be inside a professional stadium are the most fun," Harry commented.

"Do the Bats do something like that?" she asked, turning her gaze to him. He liked when she looked at him with that cute little smile. It made him feel important and interesting, and both were nice feelings.

"I've no idea. I'll get back to you toward the end of the season," he replied. They sat for a minute then before he asked. "So, what's with the long sleeves, was it cold this morning or something?" She blushed furiously and looked away.

"No. I'd rather not talk about it," she replied quietly. Harry ignored that completely unsatisfactory answer.

"Oh come now. Has to be warm in that today," he teased. She shrugged, still not meeting his eye.

"It's not so bad. You get used to it," she replied weakly. Hatry was too happy to notice her mood. He pulled her into his lap, by far the most intimate situation they'd found themselves in. He didn't even realize what it looked like, though, as he peered over her shoulder. She struggled a bit to get away, but seemed pleasantly surprised by her new situation.

"You'd think you were hiding a dark mark! At least roll them up," he laughed and reached for her left sleeve. She tried to lean away but he managed to pull the sleeve up her arm. Nothing seemed unusual about it so he repeated with the right sleeve. She tensed a bit against him.

"See," Harry said. "That has to be much better."

"It is," she said quietly, relaxing just a little bit.

"I don't understand what the big deal was," he said after a few more moments.

"You can't tell?" she asked quietly, tensing once more.

"No. What?" He looked at both of her arms. They appeared to be perfectly normal. But she took a deep breath and held up her left arm. At first he didn't see anything unusual, but when he focused on it he could see two faint pink scars. His breath caught in his chest. He didn't know what to say.

"Ugly, right?" she asked, putting her wrist down and slumping her shoulders a bit. There certainly wasn't much, if any, fight left in Luna. Funny how she could change so much. But he didn't even know what had happened to her.

"No," Harry replied honestly. He was a bit struck that she'd be worried about physical appearance. That certainly wasn't Luna's main concern very often. But perhaps her words had a deeper meaning that he caught on to. "It's barely noticeable."

"Noticeable enough to leave you speechless," she said. He picked up her wrist and held it in his hand for a moment, before tracing his thumb gently down the scars.

"I wasn't speechless about the markings, Luna. Had I not been looking for a specific blemish, I doubt I'd have noticed. I was speechless about what it represents. When did you do it?" he asked. Part of him didn't expect her to answer. He thought for sure she'd attempt to use the 'I don't want to talk about it' excuse again. But she didn't.

"Shortly after the sale of Dad's paper was finalized," she admitted. He raked his memory for an exact date on that, but came up with nothing. He just knew it was about six months after his wedding to Ginny.

"Tell me what happened," he said. She paused and looked around the zoo before she started on her own tale.

"Uh well, there's not much to tell," she said weakly. He slid his arms around her waist and held her in place in front of him. She didn't seem to protest.

"Tell me anyway," he said. She sighed, seeming slightly annoyed.

"I didn't fare as well coming out of Hogwarts as you. I didn't particularly know what I was going to do. I wanted no part of the paper. I'm not sure why. I just didn't. Years ago I would have loved to write for dad. But without dad…" she trailed off. Harry just nodded a bit.

"I can empathize," he said. Luna didn't comment for a moment. He could see tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Well. I didn't know what to do. I was completely alone. I couldn't stand being alone at the house, and I didn't know where to go. So I just sort of drifted off," she explained slowly, as if she carefully weighed every word before she spoke.

"Why didn't you talk to me or something?" he asked.

"Well you were busy. First you were an Auror, headlining all those raids and taking in former Death Eaters. Then you were engaged to Ginny, and then you were married. And after that you were the quidditch star," she said sounding rather exasperated.

"Well Ginny and I would have helped," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

"Ginny wasn't much of a help at the funeral," Luna said quietly. "And she didn't speak to me, pretty much at all, in our last year at Hogwarts. She hung out with Hermione mostly."

"I'm sorry," he replied.

"It wasn't your fault. And it didn't really matter. I spent most of my time in the library anyway," she said.

"Hermione told me that. She said you were looking up stuff on the creatures your dad talked about," Harry admitted. His words caused Luna to sniffle a bit.

"I was. It was part of the problem," she said. "I lost everything at once. I lost my father, my crazy animals, and my best friend all at once. I watched everyone around me happy and growing up and I had nothing. I just sort of existed. I was sick the entire wedding. I wanted to just run away. And I sort of did. No one really tried to find me." Harry frowned. He'd really failed as a friend. But it had been so easy. She just hadn't been around and he'd been busy. There were times when he felt like he should have at least sent a letter, but he so rarely did.

"I'm sorry about Ginny," he commented, figuring he could at least apologize for the antics of his ex. "What happened after the wedding?" He asked, swallowing hard.

"Nothing really. I lived at home, alone, and waited for the sale to finalize. I never did anything. Just brooded and thought about life. Somewhere along the day I found my way into dad's booze, and things got ugly. One morning I decided I didn't want to be alive anymore. It wasn't really true, obviously. But I wasn't thinking straight. A couple of cutting hexes later…" her voice trailed off. Harry wanted to throw up. He couldn't think of anything to say.

"What happened?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"I'd left the radio on," she admitted. "I heard that my lost best friend was getting his first start for the Tutshill Tornadoes. And I couldn't be the one who ruined his day." Harry paused. He just held her tighter.

"Me?" he asked quietly. She nodded.

"Who else would it be, Harry?" She asked softly.

"Ginny."

"You should know as well as I that Ginny is never there when you need her," Luna commented quietly.

"You have a point there," he responded. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. I couldn't be around after so I ran away. I saw the Ballycastle zoo was hiring and I got the job. I roomed with one of the other girls for the first few months then rented the apartment I have now."

"So you've been giving these tours since," he said softly.

"Not everyone can be a professional seeker, Harry," she responded.

"True," he said quietly. He wasn't sure if she was insulting him or not. Luna could always keep you on your toes. "I was really your best friend though?" he reiterated.

"Yes. You were always there. I like to think we were always there for each other through various things. I knew the whole time I was imprisoned that you would be the one who showed up to save me. And you did, you and that poor elf." She shook her head a bit as she remembered that. "I know it probably never even occurred to you to do something different. But that's just how you are."

"I guess," Harry said. Truth be told he was sick of people commenting on his tendencies to save people. He hadn't saved anyone in years. And strangely, he was rather happy about the fact that he hadn't had to.

"And you asked me to that stupid Christmas party. I was so thrilled," she frowned. "But only as friends. I'd hoped for more."

"Really?" he asked. He'd never gotten that impression. But he certainly wasn't the best with women.

"Of course," was all she said in response. They were silent for a moment. Harry thought about that. He thought about the blonde girl sitting with him. She was more fun than Ginny, and she had always been there, unlike Ginny. When he finally mustered the courage to ask a question, it wasn't what he wanted to ask.

"Are you done with tours for the day?"

"No. But I clocked out anyway. Rachel said she'd cover my last," Luna responded. "Although I expected this to be more fun."

"Sorry," Harry said softly.

"It's not your fault. You just have an annoying way to make everyone around you honest," she responded.

"I must not tell lies," Harry smirked.

"I'm sure that's really worked out too," she teased.

"Depends on the subject," Harry commented.

"Like sleeping with your agent?" Luna responded coyly. Harry winced.

"Didn't happen," he said softly.

"Liar," she teased.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"I didn't. You're just easy to read. How was she?"

"Are we really going to talk about this?" he asked, shifting uncomfortable, but her weight didn't allow him to move much.

"You made me talk about something uncomfortable," she responded calmly.

"I have a better idea," Harry said. Luna shifted off of him so she sat next to him on the bench.

"And what's that?"

"Well, I ruined the fun part earlier, so let me make it up to you. Let's go out for dinner."

"As friends?" she asked tentatively.

"No. As Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood. We'll see what happens from there," he replied. She turned toward him and gave him a brilliant smile.

"I'd like that."

They had enjoyed themselves, too. They'd just gone to a casual restaurant in Ballycastle and split some appetizers in a booth in the corner. They talked until they were told by a waitress that they had to leave, as the place was closing. Harry remembered it fondly. Up until that point it had been his best date.

He was still attempting to distract and annoy the Swedish chasers. Kronwall hadn't started to harass the English chasers, but Button was keeping him busy enough. Still, Harry had to pull back every few rush attempts and make sure Kronwall hadn't spotted the snitch. He noted that the Swede looked slightly annoyed at the constant rain of bludgers focused on him. He hadn't asked one of his beaters to focus on Harry, though, which made his job as an auxiliary chaser easier.

The first date with Luna, if one could even call it that, had been incredibly fun. He'd walked her home once they left the restaurant. She'd stopped him outside of the door of her apartment. Luna'd given him a nervous speech about how she'd had fun, and hoped they could do it again. He'd responded accordingly. And then, with a slight blush on her cheeks, she'd kissed him on the lips, but a moment later she disappeared into the apartment building. The kiss had been nothing. A mere peck on the lips, quite possibly more chaste and innocent than a kiss on the cheek from Hermione. But it had somehow felt different. He'd walked back to his small Ballycastle apartment after, determined to see more of Luna.

And he would. He'd see her at least a couple of times a week. They'd go to lunch, or go to dinner, or simply hang out with each other. It was all sweet and innocent, and quite possibly the most fun Harry had had in his life.

He shook the memories out of his head, though, he did have another match to win first and reflecting had already cost him a game in the World Cup. Not that he'd admit that to anyone other than himself. He cut under Ginny as he joined the chasers on another rush. He rolled up nearly colliding with a Swedish chaser that attempted a steal as Ginny passed to Katie. He was going to cut past Jason to help finish the play, but a flash of gold distracted him.

He cut his broom the other way, and pushed after where the golden flash had been moving. It took him a few moments to find it. And, when he finally pinpointed the golden ball he saw that Kronwall had a gigantic lead on him. Still, he wouldn't go down without a fight. But he'd have to hope for a very defensive snitch.

The golden ball seemed rather content to just fly in a straight line, though, and Kronwall was gaining rather rapidly on it. The snitch went into a rather lazy dive as it reached the center of the pitch. Harry cursed under his breath. This golden ball just didn't seem to be that interested in being overly elusive.

Harry instinctively dived after it. Putting himself on the perfect angle to intercept the golden ball when he reached the center of the pitch, provided it didn't become suddenly more defensive, or Kronwall didn't catch it first. He was faster than the Swedish seeker, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to catch up in time based on speed alone. But he'd have to try anyway.

He pushed closer to it, watching the yellow uniformed Kronwall get closer and closer. His broom vibrated underneath him, struggling to maintain the speed Harry was asking it for. He knew if he kept pushing it this hard, it would start to splinter, but it would just be a quick note to Nimbus for a new broom.

Kronwall was within a few feet of the snitch. The match would be over in a second. Harry was nearly close enough to be able to foul if need be. But then he saw a flash of iron shoot by him. He rolled just a tad to avoid the bludger. Kronwall didn't see it until the last moment, and by then it was too late. There was a loud, sickening crunch as it impacted on his ribs. A sound that professional quidditch players were accustomed to hearing. Kronwall fell to his side as Harry shot past.

He smothered the snitch quickly. Once he had the small golden ball in his hand he yelled loudly, spinning quickly on his broom to point to a smirking Button. Once the official had confirmed the catch he immediately gave the ball to Titus, shortly before being smothered by ebullient teammates. His only thought was 'one to go.'

The team had a bit of a champagne party in the locker room. They were all doused in it by the time the party was over. Gwenog gave a brief speech about staying focused and still having one win to go before she and Ginny left the locker room. The rest of the team followed suit.

He made the mistake of drinking even more with Titus and Jason after the game. They were joined by Oliver and Katie this time, and it was rather pleasant to have some company. They drank a bit too much at the hotel bar, but it was all in good fun. And they didn't get so drunk they couldn't find their rooms.

Of course, the first thing Harry noticed when he entered his was that someone had left two suitcases near the door. They weren't his and he thought that he may have had the wrong room. But that didn't make sense, as his keycard had worked. He pulled out his wand, although he probably wasn't in much of a condition to cast a spell, and wandered into the room.

"Hello Harry," a soft voice said from the bed. He turned and smiled.

"Luna! You said you wouldn't come until the finals!" he exclaimed. She was resting on the far side of his bed, near a lamp, reading a book.

"It is the finals. I figured we could spend some time in town. If you don't mind," she said softly, blushing just a bit.

"Not at all. It should be fun," he responded with a smile. "I'm actually amazed you could get into my room."

"It wasn't actually hard. I just said I was Mrs. Potter and I wanted to surprise my husband," she responded. "I was actually surprised when it worked."

"Me too," he said. "Although I did tell the desk I may be expecting someone."

"Well it worked. You look exhausted and drunk," she commented.

"That's probably because I am," he responded confidently. She laughed.

"Get changed and sleep. You're going to have a long day showing me the sights tomorrow," she said. He obliged. It took him longer to find his pajamas than he would have liked. But he changed quickly and crawled into bed. She'd gone back to reading, but the light didn't bother him. He couldn't help but think of how nice it felt to simply be close to her. How he'd been afraid to ask her to come because of what it could mean for their relationship. Yet somehow it all just felt right. He didn't have much time to think about it though, as he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Author's Note: One chapter left. Again thanks for all the suggestions on Harry's number. The classicists in me won out. But regardless, I appreciate them all. Thanks for the continued support, I appreciate all the reviews and PMs. And I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Thanks to Onichun and Cammilies for beta work earlier in this story, as well as the readers who gave suggestions along the way. However, the beta work on this chapter was entirely myself. Which likely means I should look it over again. Thanks for the ride!

Chapter 6

Bulgaria

Harry was alone when he finally woke up. That would have bothered him, but it was a fairly common occurrence. Luna didn't quite understand the concept of cuddling in the morning. It didn't help that she was almost annoyingly perky in the A.M hours. Harry's mornings usually consisted with waking up, rolling over, and going back to sleep, assuming he didn't have anywhere to be. And since Daphne was an incredible agent, she tended to schedule his appearances in the early afternoon. When Luna woke up, though, she was up, and she would be doing something. Harry didn't think he'd ever woken before her.

She was more fun at night though. She'd run out of energy after dinner, usually. And when she did she'd want to cuddle for hours on the couch. Harry enjoyed that immensely, assuming he didn't have a game at night. Unfortunately, at this point of the year, he usually had a match, and wouldn't be home. Sometimes he'd stop by her place when he was done, but unless the match was quick, she'd usually be in bed.

Still the only sign of her presence was the book on the bedside table and the bags near the door. That warranted further investigation. He slowly got out of bed and walked around the hotel room. There wasn't really anything out of place in the room, but he heard running water from the bathroom so he walked over and knocked gently on the door.

"Come in," Luna said from the other side of the door. Harry slowly opened it. She laid in the large bathtub. Her hair was done up loosely and she rested against one side of the tub. He couldn't see much past her neck and head, as the tub was filled with bubbles. Her eyes were closed.

"Morning," he said quietly as he stepped into the bathroom.

"Morning," she responded, curling her lips into a smile, but not opening her eyes.

"Sleep well?" he asked, leaning back against the door.

"Yes. You were out like a light, too," she said. "No dreams of the war at all," he knew she meant for the both of them. He thrashed in his sleep when he had one. They both still had nightmares. She wouldn't talk about them, and he didn't ask. His own often centered around Voldemort being back and the war continuing. He assumed hers centered around whatever happened at Malfoy Manor.

"I had a rather tense match immediately before, you do realize," he teased, hoping some levity would take his mind off the dreams. "I had to fly all over and be all active."

"Yes, you did. Dickerson was rather impressed on the wireless. You should have heard him talking. You're certainly not going to need a publicist the way he goes on about you," Luna said. She sighed contentedly and sunk down a tad more into the water.

"He likes me," Harry responded. "Told me I'm the best seeker he's ever seen."

"That's quite the compliment," Luna commented.

"I think he was just trying to get some post-match comments at the time," Harry said. "It was after the semi-finals with the Tornadoes."

"Probably. Either way, if you would invite him to dinner he may have a heart attack. I was worried I may not have exclusive claim on you," she laughed.

"Well, you know, Luna, you haven't made any such claim," Harry teased.

"Oh shut up," she said sternly. "Order us some breakfast, too. I want pancakes. And fresh fruit."

"Yes ma'am," Harry said as he turned and stepped back into the main room. He found the phone next to the bed and found the number for room service. He ordered some pancakes and fruit for Luna, and just some eggs and toast for himself. He debated adding some tea to the order, but figured he may as well make some use of the half-kitchen in the hotel room.

When he'd finished the order he walked over to the kitchen and started to heat the water for the tea. It took less time than he'd hoped, so he sat on one of the stools and turned on the local news. It had the unfortunate fault of being in Swedish, and he was too lazy to find a channel that wasn't, so he simply left it on and relaxed on the stool.

Luna stepped out of the bathroom about the same time that the tea kettle sounded. He found two cups and placed them on the counter.

"What kind of tea would you like, love?" he asked as he idly watched her dress.

"Whatever you have is fine," she replied. He nodded and found two breakfast black teas, placing them into cups an letting the tea brew. Unfortunately, by the time he looked back up, Luna had put on clothing, one of his under armor bats shirts he wore under the uniform. It looked much better on her. She joined him by the counter.

"Food should be up in a few minutes," he said.

"Good, I'm starving," she responded. She looked at the television for a minute before gazing curiously at him. "You speak Swedish?"

"Nope. Just too lazy to find something else," he admitted with a shrug. Luna looked back at the screen before shrugging herself.

"Well it works for me," she responded.

"You can understand it?" he asked. He knew she spoke French as well as English, solely because he witnessed her and Fleur talking once, but didn't think she spoke anything else.

"No. But that makes it more fun," she said knowingly. "We can just make it up. See, here's a story about Nargles invading a local grocery store." Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"What, were they interested in that new breakfast cereal?" He responded.

"No, they've used it as a plot to attempt to conquer us," she deadpanned. Harry laughed once more as there was a knock on the door. He answered it, bringing the room service back to the counter. Luna lifted the metal covering off of her plate of pancakes and started pouring syrup over them as Harry handed her some utensils. He lifted the cover off of his eggs then and, after adding some salt and pepper, proceeded to eat them. They were a little cold, but it was room service after all. Regardless, Luna seemed happy with her pancakes.

"So what do you want to do today, Luna?" he asked as he finished up his eggs.

"You're the one that's been here for a couple weeks, Harry, not me. I expected to be shown around," she responded.

"And treated to a nice lunch, a fantastic dinner, and plenty of entertainment," Harry teased. "All the while being mercifully kept away from the prying eyes and annoying comments of Titus Button and Jason Williams?"

"Well that would be nice, but you don't have to treat me to anything," she responded demurely.

"I know I don't. But I want to," Harry responded. "May as well use the money for something."

"You're a prat," she said.

"Yes," he nodded. "But a rich one. That has to count for something."

"Not particularly in my world," Luna responded.

"Ouch," Harry frowned and attempted to pout. Luna just raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's certainly not an attractive look," she said. "What did you have planned for the day?"

"Nothing really. We don't do much, just sort of laze around and drink," he responded.

"Don't you even practice?" she asked.

"Yea, but we don't put that much effort into it. At least I don't," he answered.

"It's a wonder Jones hates you," Luna said

"Bet that's all over the papers back home," Harry laughed.

"It's actually not. It was a bit at the start of the tournament, and it resurfaced after that Canadian girl beat you to the snitch, but it's mostly just excitement now. They love you. But it's all about Ginny and Gwenog. They're completely ignoring the fact that Jones looks overmatched and that Titus is having an incredible tournament," she explained, tilting her head to the side. He always thought her lion head and Gryffindor garb was a bit of a joke for the matches at school, but it turned out Luna was rather into quidditch.

"Well that's good to know. I'd rather not be the center of attention."

"I'll make sure I pay attention to your friends more than you the next time we go out then," Luna said with a quick nod.

"I rather like being the center of your attention," he amended.

"So what were you going to do tonight?" she asked again.

"I didn't really have anything planned. I'd have probably gone to the match tonight to see who we'll play in the finals."

"And been amazed if it wasn't Bulgaria?" she asked while tilting her head and smiling. He tensed at the thought. It would certainly be the biggest match he'd ever flown in and he was already getting nervous. He saw that she'd finished her pancakes, so he gathered up the used dishes and moved them outside.

"Pretty much," he commented as he stepped back into the room.

"All the pressure will be on Krum," she said quietly.

"I hate that saying," he responded. "The media will focus on Krum, but it's not like it isn't the biggest game of my life. And he certainly has more experience with it."

"You're just as good as he is," she responded. "In fact, you may be better. Excluding the hiccup against Canada you've played better in this tournament."

"But there's still the hiccup," he sighed.

"Well, beat him in like a minute like you did in your first match at Ballycastle, that'll shut everyone up," she said matter-of-factly.

"It's not that easy," he laughed.

"I know it isn't, Harry. But you're either going to win or lose. Brooding about it before the fact will just make you more annoying when you brood about it after the fact."

"I don't brood," he defended himself. He didn't brood. Well, except for his entire fifth year, and after graduating, and after the divorce. Okay maybe he didn't have as good of an argument as he thought.

"You brood. And brooding Harry is less fun. So we're not going to the match tonight. I don't want to have you muttering about how good Krum is for the rest of the week." Her voice left little room for argument. Still, he didn't mind. She was probably right. And he could use plenty of time with better company than Button and Williams.

"Okay fine. I brood," he tried his best to sound annoyed, but knew he failed. "But we still haven't decided what we'll do today."

"Yes we have," Luna said, her voice adopting that wonderfully dreamy tone it had. The tone that at one point had always been present, but now only showed up when she was particularly happy or amused.

"Enlighten me," he responded.

"Well we're in a big, beautiful city with plenty of time to kill. We're going to wander around and see where the day takes us," she explained.

"That sounds entertaining," Harry said. It did, too. It would be fun to walk around the city with something more on his mind than where to drink with Titus and Jason. She nodded a bit.

"Yes, now let me finish changing and we'll go enjoy our day," she said before moving back toward the bedroom. Harry just smiled as he watched her pick out an outfit for the day.

The Bats couldn't lose. It was a wonderful start of the summer. He loved every minute of it. And to make things even better, hanging out with Button and Williams became incredibly fun. They typically went out after matches with rather mixed results. Needless to say, they were fairly recognizable around Ballycastle. Harry didn't mind seeing his picture in the paper as much when he was simply in a bar with teammates.

But, even better than going out with new friends was that he'd rediscovered Luna. He'd forgotten just how amusing she was. She could go from being shy and carefully one minute, to incredibly outgoing the next. Luna was always hesitant with people she didn't know, which was very apparent when she barely spoke a word to Titus and one of his many girlfriends at lunch once. But she opened up quickly when she felt she knew the person.

Still, Titus and Jason thought she was a bit off. As did Daphne. But he didn't particularly care for any of their opinions. Nor had he asked, but that hadn't stopped them from commenting.

Their first date, the dinner after the zoo encounter, had been awkward. They hadn't really known what to talk about, or how to act with each other. They'd even avoided any conversation on any touchy topic. Harry had answered harder questions in interviews with Teen Witch Weekly. Still, in the end, it had been relatively fun. Looking back just a few months later he couldn't remember what they'd even talked about, it had been so inconsequential. But he did remember that he wanted to see her again almost as soon as she'd closed the door behind her.

So he decided he would. The Bats spent the next few days on the road. They played at the Cannons, Wasps and Tornadoes. Harry and Jason were booed rather loudly in Tutshill, but it hadn't affected the outcome of the match. He debated asking Felicity out after the match, but figured that reunion would probably be best if it happened in the off season.

After the short road trip the Bats had a few days off. Harry spent the first in day in London. He had some World Cup team appearances he had to make. Titus and Jason accompanied him, and then decided they'd use Grimmauld Place as their base of operations for a night of drunken debauchery.

Thankfully, Harry had other plans. Unfortunately, those plans involved Ginny. He wouldn't have agreed to dinner with Ron and Hermione had he known they were inviting Ginny as well. Harry hadn't spoken with her since the divorce, and he didn't really want to talk to her. But she was also in town for the World Cup team events, and one of his friends had thought that was a good idea. He assumed Ron. He debated making an excuse not to go, but he couldn't come up with a good enough reason.

So instead he changed and simply went. He wound up having to sit next to her in the large booth. She looked nice, he'd at least give her that. Her hair was done up and she wore a pretty dress. She smiled at him a little too often. Harry couldn't help but suspect she and Ron had corroborated on this. The glare Hermione kept giving her fiancé helped confirm that too. It wasn't until halfway through the meal that Ron blurted out.

"You two should both sign with Chudley when your contracts are up."

"No," Harry said quickly.

"Hell no," Ginny affirmed at nearly the same time. They exchanged a quick glance and laughed together. It was strange, yet it felt right. Harry looked away quickly.

"See, there's something you two agree on," Ron exclaimed, drawing another glare from Hermione.

"I'm sure there's plenty they agree on, Ron. But that isn't the point. I told you not to get involved in this," she responded rather sternly. Ron flushed and looked at his fiancé.

"Get involved in what," he responded with feigned innocence.

"Things didn't work out. They're divorced. Had I known you were going to invite Ginny, no offense by the way, I wouldn't have told Harry to come." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and looked as annoyed as Harry felt.

"What why?" Ron asked.

"Yea, why?" Ginny scowled.

"Because I haven't spoken with my best friend in months. And I've spoken with you quite a bit. I even overheard you and Ron the other night. It's not right. Going through this whole ploy is stupid," Hermione argued. Harry looked over at his friend. He had a little too good of an idea what she was implying.

"That's not fair," Ginny said. "I made a stupid mistake acting out of anger."

"And that has consequences," Hermione said.

"You can't tell me Harry doesn't want me back. He's had no social life since we split," Ginny argued. Harry blinked a bit. He didn't quite think that was true, his social life just got regulated to the fourth or fifth page in the paper, rather than the first. In fact, it felt like he did a lot more now that they were divorced.

"You can't possibly know that," she said.

"But she has a point. She screwed up, and they should be able to fix it. They're perfect together!" Ron countered. Ginny was going to speak but Harry spoke first.

"No, we're really not," He said quietly.

"What?" Ron and Ginny said simultaneously.

"We never had fun," Harry said.

"Sure we did," Ginny responded.

"But we didn't. At least not with each other," he sighed. He knew that a few months ago, despite the anger and resentment, he would have probably jumped at the thought of getting back together with Ginny. But those feelings were gone.

"Yes we did," Ginny scolded. Harry shook his head.

"No. You were never around, Ginny. We were closer to roommates than a couple. I had an absentee wife for the first year, and even really after that. Then you accused me of cheating. Threw everything in my face. I wanted a wife and a friend. I thought we wanted the same things. But we didn't, Ginny. And that hasn't changed." He finished with a sigh. Ginny's expression changed immediately.

"So it is all my fault?" she spat. Harry sighed again. He couldn't help but marvel at her ability to make it entirely about her. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk about how terrible I am." She raised her voice and was about to really make a scene. But Harry didn't feel like letting her. He stood before she could.

"Funny," he said. "Either am I. Sorry about leaving you two with the bill, but I'm afraid I've just remembered I have somewhere else to be." He just left, leaving her completely stunned in her seat. He heard some chattering from behind him as he left the restaurant, but he didn't turn to look.

"Harry wait," Hermione yelled from behind him. He paused in the street and turned to face her.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know he invited her. I haven't seen you in months. I was hoping we could talk," she said, frowning. Harry paused for a moment and sat on the stone steps of a nearby building.

"It's alright," he said as she sat next to him on the steps. "I'm surprised she came. We invited her to the party when the English team was announced and she didn't come. Would have probably been easier to con me into something when I was drunk."

"I doubt it," Hermione laughed. "I don't think your new friends would have let that happen."

"Titus and Jason? Oh they would have in a heartbeat. They'd have found it funny."

"They don't seem like very good friends then," Hermione said carefully.

"Nah, they're fine. They just don't try to dictate what I do," Harry said. Hermione flushed at his words, but didn't comment.

"Still. I'm sorry," she said again. Harry knew she was referring to Ginny.

"It's not your fault," he responded.

"I should have known they'd try something." She sighed. "Ron has brought it up. Sometimes I feel like he never grew up. Seems the same way with Ginny, too. I was so looking forward to chatting with you. We've barely seen you since you moved to Ireland. Now we ruined the evening.

"Nonsense," Harry smiled. "The night is still young. We can go someplace private and have a great time." Hermione blushed when he finished speaking.

"Are you prepositioning me, Harry?" she teased. "I'm engaged you know."

"Of course I'm not," he responded with a slight smirk. "Unless you'd like me to be."

"No. I think I'll pass on that one. Although it would be good to see you with some female companionship. Is there a special someone around that you haven't told us about?" she asked. His thought immediately of Luna. They hadn't done much together yet, but he certainly wanted to do more.

"I'm not sure," he replied honestly. "I think so. But we're taking it very slowly so it's hard to be sure of anything."

"Oh? You should introduce me to her," Hermione insisted. She tried to sound like that was a mere formality, like she was simply being nice, but her eyes lit up in such a way that she was obviously interested.

"You already know her," Harry said.

"I do? Who is it? Not your agent?" Hermione asked.

"Have a problem with Daphne?" Harry asked.

"Well no. And not if you like her. She just seems a bit forward for you," Hermione admitted.

"It's not her," Harry said quietly.

"Well who is it, then?" she asked. Harry paused for a moment. He debated not telling her, but he couldn't think of a clever way to string her along for much longer.

"Luna," He responded. Hermione looked stunned.

"Really? I don't think I've seen her since the wedding," Hermione said.

"You have. She was at the party we had for the National Team," Harry commented. Sure, Luna hadn't stayed long. But she had been there.

"Interesting," Hermione said. "Well I hope things work out between you two."

"Me too. Like I said, we're taking it really slowly. She's less dreamy now. Sometimes I miss the old her. But I think she's just been unhappy. She's changed."

"We've all changed," Hermione responded. She stood up. Harry did the same. "But I should get back to Ron. Hopefully he and Ginny didn't cause a scene."

"If I know Ginny at all, she stormed out and you and Ron will be able to enjoy a nice quiet dinner," Harry commented. Hermione laughed just a little bit.

"Maybe. We should do lunch soon, Harry. I miss your company."

"That would be fun. Probably not until after the World Cup though. I'll let you know." He smiled at her. After a moment she walked slowly back to the restaurant. They really all had changed. Grown apart with life. He'd know that, of course, but he couldn't help but wonder how his friendships could have been different had he not been married. He didn't allow the thought to linger though. Instead he thought of Luna, and her smile as he walked back to Grimmauld Place. He knew he'd be spending more time in Ballycastle very soon.

Harry watched the Bulgarian team fly around their side of the pitch. He barely noticed the quaffle as Titus tossed it to him. He threw it in the general direction of Jason and kept staring across the pitch at Krum. He'd never played against the Bulgarian before. Sure, he'd watched him before, but you could only learn so much from watching.

Jason noticed he wasn't paying attention and tossed the quaffle over toward Titus instead.

"Hey Potter," the chaser said. "Stop admiring Krum and act like you care about warm-ups."

"But I am warming up," Harry responded. His eyes followed Krum as the Bulgarian flew around the pitch, going through his own pre-match routine. "I'm scouting."

"That so wouldn't fly if coach was here," Titus laughed.

"Sure it would. My captain trusts me. He lets me do what I want before matches," Harry commented, his eyes still following Krum.

"He's got you there," Jason said.

"I guess," Titus responded in a way that indicated he didn't particularly agree with that statement. He and Jason went back to tossing the quaffle around for a few more minutes while Harry simply watched Krum.

"So, can you beat him?" Jason asked as they finished warming up. He and Titus flanked Harry in the air.

"I can beat anyone," Harry responded dryly. And he knew it was true. He could beat anyone. But he wasn't arrogant enough to assume he couldn't lose. He also knew that he could lose, very easily, as he had many times before.

"Yes, but will you?" Titus asked.

"I'll certainly try my damndest," he responded, still watching Krum warm up with his team. The Bulgarians did everything as a single cohesive unit. That was probably how a team should look, but their English counterparts were far more fragmented. Of course, that likely wouldn't have been the case if the three Ballycastle Bats weren't on the team. But the trio simply floated and watched. Harry could tell that Jason and Titus both wanted to speak, but they kept their mouths shut for a few moments.

"Hey were on T.V," Jason commented after he simply couldn't stay silent any longer. Harry shook his head and glanced over at the screens that line the world cup stadium. Indeed every screen showed the three of them, hovering and watching.

"Sponsors have to love that shot," Titus laughed.

"No," Harry said. "They'd want you in the middle. You're in the middle on everything."

"Probably," Titus responded. "But they're getting enough as is."

"Indeed. But let's go and get into position. The Bulgarians are lining up," Harry said. He turned his broom back toward the hoops.

"Going to try the spear again?" Jason asked as they flew toward their starting positions.

"Krum would never fall for it," Harry said. "And Katie nearly killed me for doing it in the first time I tried it. But I have something in mind."

"And what's that?" Titus asked.

"You'll see. I'll certainly have my hands full." He drifted away from the other two players as he finished speaking. He took put himself between the two beaters, nearly perfectly behind Katie.

The primary official was still giving the customary speech on the rules as he waited for the quaffle. Harry had heard it enough. He could quote it if need be. He allowed his eyes to wander to the stands. It didn't take him long to find the friends and family section for the English team. He saw Ron and Hermione first, but he wasn't looking for them. Daphne was a few rows away sitting with two girls he vaguely recognized, but couldn't name. His eyes slid up a few rows and he saw Bill and Fleur.

But he was looking for the blonde girl next to Fleur. Her hair was done up loosely and she wore an English national jersey. Although he couldn't see it, he knew she had a small golden snitch charm around her neck. But he could tell she'd capped off the outfit with a pair of bat wings. He couldn't help but wonder how long before they'd be selling those at the team store. After a moment, she noticed he was looking at her.

"Win," she mouthed from the stands. He just nodded at her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the quaffle fly toward the official. He turned toward the middle of the pitch and waited for the ball to fly. He looked at Krum for a moment, before letting his eyes shift down. He faked like he was intently following something.

As soon as the quaffle flew he darted straight past Krum, and dropped into a steep dive. He saw the Bulgarian's surprised look as he flew off past him. Krum hesitated for a moment. To Harry, it was a pivotal point of the match. If Krum reacted how he hoped…

He kept in the dive, not daring to look back. Near the turf he pulled up and cut around, still acting as if he was chasing something. But from there he could see that Krum had chosen to chase him. Harry leveled out and did his best to keep Krum behind him, constantly blocking his view.

He'd come up with this plan months ago, if he'd ever play Krum. He'd never seen another seeker dictate the match against the Bulgarian. Krum was always in control of the search for the snitch. But not today. Harry would do everything he could to keep the Bulgarian off balance. He just hoped it wouldn't backfire.

Harry and Jason arrived early at the park. But that didn't matter the park was already packed. It was rare that Titus wouldn't be involved in one of these promotional things, but he claimed to have the flu. A night of heavy drinking could sometimes have that effect.

He and Jason were doing a brief autograph session, followed by a flying demonstration, before a children's quidditch match. Harry wasn't particularly looking forward to the first half of it. He hated mass autograph signings. But he figured watching some kids play quidditch couldn't be so bad.

An aide led the two quidditch stars through the crowd to a table under a canopy. There was a great deal of cheering and some chanting, but Harry ignored it. He messed with the pens that had been placed on the table for him. Moving them around carefully as another aide explained the basic rules to the fans waiting.

Eventually, the aide finished and the people approached he and Jason in a much less orderly fashion than had been expected. But when they realized a mass at the table wouldn't yield an autograph they diverged into lines. Harry was secretly amazed at how many times he could sign his name in an hour, and how many people came asking for the signature.

After the hour was up a Bats intern approached them with their brooms. Harry shook out his wrist a bit before he and Jason took to the air. They didn't do anything particularly impressive or dangerous in their flying demonstration, as they didn't want to risk injury. After a few minutes of air stunts they switched to a quick one on one scoring competition. Jason trounced him, but Harry pulled some nice moves on the chaser. They landed as the kids' teams started to warm up.

Jason immediately wandered over to chat up two girls that had been eyeing him up since the autograph session. Harry laughed and debated leaving. But he'd never seen a pre-schooling quidditch game before, and he was rather intrigued. So instead he turned his eyes up and watched the players commence their pre-match ritual. At least until they gathered by their coaches. Then Harry glanced around the crowd and saw a familiar blond talking to an unfamiliar brunette. The pretty blonde didn't look like she particularly wanted to be there.

"Luna?" he asked. She looked up and around, until her eyes found his. Her face lit up.

"Harry?" she said as he moved over toward her. "What are you doing here?"

"We had a promotional signing this morning," Harry said. He gave a nod toward Jason in the distance. "And you?"

"Rachel's brother is playing in one of the matches. She dragged me out to watch." Luna tilted her head toward the brunette. Harry didn't recognize her, but he could vaguely recall a coworker named Rachel.

"I dragged you out because there's going to be cute boys here, and as you can see, I was correct," The brunette said. Luna blushed quite a bit as her friend offered Harry her hand. "I'm Rachel."

"Harry," he responded, taking it for a moment. He noticed Luna's expression harden at the slight contact.

"Are you going to stay and cheer on my brother?" Rachel asked. "It would mean the world to him." She bat her eyelashes at him. Harry couldn't help but smile.

"I'd be honored. But I think I'll be spending most of the time catching up with Luna," he slid next to her and took her hand. Rachel raised an eyebrow at that, but the three of them simply wandered over toward the bleachers and found a seat.

"My brother plays for the purple and red team," Rachel said after they sat down. Harry nodded a bit.

"Which one is he?" Harry asked, his eyes scanning the players in the sky.

"The right side chaser," Rachel responded quickly.

"Alright," Harry said, his eyes sliding to that chaser. He noticed he was still holding Luna's hand, but she didn't seem to mind so he didn't let go. They watched the start of the match in silence. Harry was rather amused by how different it looked from the professional game. After a few missed shots he decided to start the conversation again.

"So no tours today?" he asked Luna, she looked a little surprised that he asked and her friend answered for her.

"Nope, we both have Tuesdays off," Rachel responded.

"That must be nice," Harry said. "Can't imagine it's your busiest day at least."

"It's not. The weekends are the worst," Rachel added. Harry looked over at Luna for a moment. She had a slight frown on her face and was pretending to watch the game. He squeezed her hand gently and she looked over at him.

"Oh. Uhm. Yea, weekends are the busiest time," she said. She went back to looking up at the match. Harry shifted a bit and also turned to watch the game. They didn't speak much for the rest of the match. Harry paid some appropriate compliments about Rachel's brother, which seemed to amuse her. Their team lost though, 200-180. Neither of the seekers caught the snitch, so they simply played to two-hundred points to fit the game into a certain time window.

After the match, Rachel insisted on introducing Harry to her brother. The younger boy was amazed to meet a local quidditch star, and too shy to really say anything. But Harry complimented him on his game, even remembering a few of the specific goals he'd scored. He let the brother and sister chat for a moment too, while he turned to Luna.

"Let's go out," he said. She looked a little surprised.

"Where?" She asked dreamily, staring up at the next two teams to warm up.

"I don't know. Find a movie, there's that superhero flick out, and then get some dinner?" He asked. She looked stunned.

"Like a date?" she asked again.

"Exactly like a date," Harry responded, smiling fully.

"You want to go on a date with me?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"Yes. In fact, I think I'd like to go on more than one," Harry responded.

"Well we should start with one," she said carefully, her cheeks turning a pale red.

"That works for me," he smiled. "So dinner and a movie then?"

"Yes," she smiled. She looked like she couldn't quite believe what she was agreeing to. Harry found it incredibly cute. "But reverse the order. Movie first or we'll be having an absurdly early dinner."

"Works for me. Where's the nearest movie theater?" He asked, figuring she knew the area much better than him.

"Don't you live here?" she teased.

"Not really. I usually floo back to London after practices and matches," he admitted.

"Really?" she sounded almost disappointed. "There was a big article in the paper about how you bought an apartment here."

"Well I did. But I don't stay there much," he said.

"You should. I think you'd like Ballycastle," she replied.

"Maybe. I certainly do like the company," he couldn't help but smirk at the slight blush that followed.

The banter only lasted for the duration of their walk to the small movie theater. Harry bought the tickets without question and the concessions as well. Luna simply wanted some popcorn, citing that they would be eating after the show anyway. They didn't talk much during the show, but he held her hand through it. And at about the hour mark she used his shoulder as a headrest. He couldn't help but tilt his face into her hair for a moment. Her fruity shampoo smelled much better in her hair than his. She didn't seem to mind.

Harry didn't pay much attention to the movie. The pretty little blonde next to him was too distracting. But she seemed to enjoy it. She leaned closer to him during the climax of the movie. Harry thought the plot was a little dumb, but Muggles sure liked their superheroes.

Afterwards they simply wandered around the area around the movie theater until they found someplace to eat an early dinner at. It wasn't particularly good, but they didn't really care. They split a bottle of wine and talked, practically ignoring the food. Harry wasn't even sure what either of them ordered.

Nor could he really remember the finer details of the conversation. It wasn't anything too enlightening. There were some childhood stories, Luna had some great ones about her father, but Harry could tell those depressed her. His own childhood stories were best ignored. She asked him a bit about his first year and was particularly interested in the challenges he faced to get the stone.

After that there was some talk of what they'd both done since Hogwarts. That quickly turned to her asking him many questions about quidditch. Pointed question, too. He couldn't help but think she would have probably made a good reporter. But then he remembered that he hated reporters and was rather glad for that. She was particularly interested in the inner workings of the teams and confessed to actually loving the sport, but not being a very good flyer. Harry promised to fix that.

They passed on dessert because Luna claimed to know a great little ice cream shop not too far away. Harry paid for the meal and they left the restaurant. The shop was only a few blocks away. He held her hand as they walked, she didn't comment, but it was soft and warm and nice to hold.

She insisted on paying for the ice cream and he didn't argue. They sat at a small table surrounded by families and couples and watched the action around them.

"See, it's good," Luna said after taking a few licks of her ice cream.

"Very," he said. "I'll have to remember this place."

"I bet they'd freak if the Ballycastle Bats showed up," she teased.

"They're magical?" he asked, gazing over toward the stand.

"I don't know," Luna admitted, looking over herself. "This is a magical part of town, but I've never tried to find out."

"You come here often?" he asked.

"On occasion. It's a nice afternoon walk from the zoo. Some of us go on our lunch break on. Not too bad after work either. Especially when you can just wander behind the building and apparated home."

"That would be very convenient," Harry agreed.

"It is," she responded as she finished her ice cream.

"You got some on your face," Harry said out of instinct. Luna looked at him.

"Oh where?" She paused and looked around. "And I don't have a napkin." Harry did.

"I'll get it," he said. He reached up with the napkin and brushed the ice cream away from the corner of her mouth. He stared into her eyes as he moved the cloth away from her face. He hesitated. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. But Luna hadn't really given any indication that he should. After the briefest of moments, though, he decided he didn't care. He kissed her.

Her lips were very soft. She tasted of vanilla, but that was likely from her choice of ice cream. She didn't really respond to the kiss. If anything, she tensed at his touch. He broke away after a moment.

"You kissed me," she said, her voice gaining it's old dreamy quality.

"I did," he responded. "And I'd like to do it again."

"You would?"

"Yes. Your lips are nice and soft and you taste wonderful." She blushed at his words and looked away.

"You want me?" she asked, seeming stunned by the possibility.

"Yes," he responded, kissing her once more. This time she kissed him back, cautiously.

"Say it," she ordered after breaking the kiss.

"I want you," he said. This time she kissed him, and it was far from cautious. He kissed her right back. After a few moments she broke the kiss and looked away, blushing ever so slightly.

"Can I see your apartment?" she asked quietly.

"Of course," Harry responded with a smile. "It's not far from here."

For the first half hour of the match Harry had managed to keep Krum in check. As he'd predicted, the Bulgarian wasn't very good at matching another seeker. And he knew Harry was too good to let him fly around unchecked. Every time Krum would attempt to search for the snitch himself, Harry would pull some type of feint and lure the Bulgarian back.

Deep down, Krum knew that Harry hadn't seen the snitch. But it didn't matter. He couldn't let his counterpart go unopposed on the slight chance that he had seen the snitch. Harry just had to keep himself one step ahead of Krum, and so far he had. Krum did the only thing he could. He used a time out. Harry darted over toward his own hoops to meet the rest of the team.

"How we doing?" he asked when they arrived, despite the fact that he could just look at the scoreboard.

"Up by thirty," Titus said, glancing at the scoreboard. "Nice work so far with Krum."

"Thanks. He's going to do everything in his power to not have to worry about me. Make his life a living hell for me."

"Gotcha," Titus said.

"Can we afford to take the pressure off the Bulgarian chasers?" Gwenog asked.

"Doesn't matter," Jason said. "We aren't about to build a large enough advantage. Harry or Krum will win the match." Gwenog just glared at him. But she didn't offer more of an argument. Harry gave Wood a quick nod in the hoops and flew back to get into position. He didn't even spare Ginny a second look.

The Bulgarian team still had some time left on their time out. He floated near the center of the pitch as he waited for the game to resume. His eyes found his friends in the stands again and couldn't help but think back on that first date with Luna.

They hadn't done much past make out when they went back to his apartment. Harry had wanted to. And he was sure Luna wanted to as well, but they'd stopped. They'd laid on his bed, in various stages of undress, cuddled close to each other. They'd talked quietly late into the night, until sleep came.

He had to admit, he rather liked waking up the next morning with her squirming against him. He knew she was trying to get out of bed without waking him up, which was a nice thought. But he just kissed her as soon as he woke. She'd kissed him back before breaking away from him with the excuse that she should have already been at the zoo. She ducked into the shower and he crawled out of bed and moved into the kitchen.

He made them a quick breakfast. He wasn't sure what she'd want, but figured just about everyone liked pancakes, so he settled on that. He remembered being tempted to join Luna in the shower, but decided that probably wasn't a very good idea.

She'd enjoyed the pancakes and rushed off to work. But Harry had known then he'd be seeing her soon. Even if it was simply because he was going to stalk her before practice.

Play resumed and he spared his friends one last quick glance before flying back past Krum. The Bulgarian didn't bite this time, so Harry flew up and concentrated on simply flying around him. He continually cut off his counterpart, intending to be as annoying as possible. It worked. Krum kept trying to distance himself from Harry. But every time he'd managed to outmaneuver Harry, Titus responded with a bludger. The Bulgarian beaters attempted to do the same to Harry, but they couldn't take their focus off the English chasers for more than a few minutes without facing repercussions.

He dove once more. Just for the sake of diving and enjoying the feel of the wind through his hair. The crowd cheered as if, perhaps, this time he'd actually spotted something. Krum followed him because he had nothing better to do.

He leveled off and flew around the edge of the stadium, catching the briefest glimpse of Luna's smiling face. He was glad she'd made it. He hadn't even been sure if she'd agree to come when he'd asked.

The Bats had just trounced the Catapults that afternoon. The match had never been close. Harry almost regretted that it took him three hours to get the snitch, as the gap had just grown larger and larger the entire time. Titus and Jason had wanted to go out drinking in London to celebrate, but he knew he'd likely be spending a great deal of time with the pair in Sweden so he passed. He had another date anyway.

Granted, she always seemed to enjoy hanging out with Jason and Titus. But he wanted it to be just the two of them tonight. He was leaving for the World Cup in just a few more days and didn't know whether or not he'd see her.

He took the Floo from the visitor's locker room to Grimmauld place. Luna had planned to meet him there when she was done with work. It was just a little bit past four when he arrived. He knew Luna wouldn't have even started her last tour yet. He walked to his bathroom and turned on the shower. He let the water run for a few moments while he stepped into his bedroom and picked out some clothing to wear. Luna hadn't wanted to go anywhere too fancy, so he picked out a short-sleeve button up and some dark jeans before stepping back into the bathroom.

Harry showered quickly, letting the warm water wash off the dried sweat from the match. He loved the feeling. He washed quickly, despite knowing he had plenty of time. He was already starting to feel nervous for the night. He dried nearly as quickly as he showered and got ready for his date.

He stepped back into the bedroom and changed into the clothing he'd laid out. Looking in the mirror in the corner of the room, he decided that he looked nice enough, although his hair was still being unruly. He flattened it a bit with his hand, hoping that since it was still damp, it would stay down. It didn't.

"Will master be dining here?" Kreacher asked from the doorway. Harry wondered where the elf had been. It usually greeted him as soon as he showed up. Although it had seemed a tad put off when it wasn't invited to Ballycastle with him.

"No. Going on a date with Luna," Harry said. "She should be here in about an hour."

"Kreacher understands," the elf responded. "Does master require anything before then?"

"Do we still have a copy of the morning's paper?" he asked.

"Kreacher can get one. Where would master like it?"

"I'll take it in the den, with some tea please."

"Kreacher understands and will obey." The elf disappeared with a pop and by the time Harry walked down to the den and sat in the chair near the fireplace. The morning's paper and the cup of tea were waiting on the table. Harry tossed himself into the chair and began to read.

He had little patience for the news so he switched to the sports section. There was an article about each teams' chances at the break for the World Cup. The writer was very positive about the bats, but did indicate he felt that if England went deep into World Cup play the three stars would likely be a bit tired when league play resumed.

The next article handicapped the World Cup itself. Harry had read many of those in the last few months, they'd been coming out even before the team was selected. This writer didn't give the English team much hope. He commented that while they were much improved over previous years, they still wouldn't be able to contend with the upper echelon teams. He finished the article and went back to skimming the paper as he waited for Luna.

He didn't have to wait too long, either. He heard the floo activate and saw her step out of it a moment later. She gazed around Grimmauld place with a small smile on her face as she dusted off the white sundress she wore.

"Hello Harry," she said. She had a large bag slung over her shoulder, but she simply deposited it onto the nearby couch and smiled at him. Her hair was also braided a bit. She looked very nice.

"Hey Luna," he responded happily. "Did you have fun at work?" He thought back to his days as an Auror after he asked and realized just how silly of a question that was. But she just smiled and shrugged it off.

"Less than you did, I'd guess," she responded. "I almost feel bad for the Catapults."

"Me too," Harry laughed. "But it took forever to find the snitch."

"I heard. So where are you taking me?" She asked. He could tell she was trying to not sound nervous as well. It wasn't anything near their first date, yet they both managed to feel giddy whenever they went out together.

"Well you said you didn't want to do anything too fancy. I know of this little French bistro we can walk to. I figured there. It's a great place to just grab a bite outside and enjoy the evening," Harry smiled as he spoke. He didn't mention that it was one of Daphne's favorite places, and where the two usually met for their monthly lunch. She appraised him for a moment then smiled.

"Okay, that sounds fun. I'm not sure I've ever eaten at a bistro," she said. Harry laughed.

"I'm not sure there's anything different about it. I always assumed it was just a pretentious French word for restaurant," he responded.

"Maybe," Luna said, her face falling a tad. Of course, she knew French, so he probably should have known that wasn't the case. "But I still think there has to be something special to earn it."

"We'll just have to find out," he said. He offered her his hand and once she took it they left the house and worked their way to the restaurant.

Luna asked to be seated outside so they found themselves at a small table overlooking a lazy London street. Luna gazed around happily, looking quite intrigued by her surroundings. Harry loved how she always seemed so interested in everything around her. They each ordered a cider, it seemed like a good choice for the warm evening. Harry peered over the menu as Luna kept looking around.

:"Are you excited for Sweden?" she asked dreamily when she finally started to look over the menu.

"More nervous than excited, I think," Harry responded.

"That has to be natural. Are you sure you can eat? You never ate before matches at school."

"How did you know that?" he asked. He couldn't help but smile at the memories. He'd never really thought about it. He certainly didn't have any issue eating before matches now, but he played in quite a few more than he had at school.

"I'm observant, Harry. Even if most people think I'm making things up."

"What about when you are making things up?" He teased.

"Well there's usually a grain of truth in it," she laughed.

"Just a grain?"

"Sometimes more, sometimes less," she responded while taking a sip of her cider. A moment later their waiter returned and they ordered their meal. Harry ordered the fish special, Luna a chicken dish. Harry didn't pay close enough attention to her order to tell exactly what it was.

They chatted quietly, mostly about Luna's day at the zoo, before their food came. The first few bites were good, but Harry had expected they would be. After a few moments of eating in silence he said what was on his mind.

"I want you to come to Sweden with me," he blurted out. She looked up from her food at him, her blue eyes wide her expression a little shocked. "I mean, if you want to, naturally. I guess I should have asked if you want to."

"Harry," she said slowly. "I would like to. But I can't just leave during our busiest season. My boss would have needed more notice than a week. And I can't afford it." She seemed to be weighing each word carefully. He gave her a weak smile.

"I hope you didn't think I'd make you pay," he paused for a moment and tried to be as charismatic as possible. "I am a famous athlete you know." To his relief, she laughed.

"Interestingly enough I did know that!" She teased. "I still don't know, though, Harry. Give me a day or two to talk to my boss and think on it."

"Alright. I would really like you to come. You could show me all around Sweden," he smiled again. She laughed.

"My father and I didn't make it to the cities much, Harry. It was mostly just camping and looking for his fictions. And I don't know how much they'll let you stars out."

"Hopefully more often than not. I can't imagine being cooped up with Titus and Jason for an extended period of time. Especially with Ginny and Gwenog there as well," Harry joked.

"She floo'd me the other day," Luna said, going back to her chicken.

"Oh?" Harry was surprised, to say the least. He'd had little contact with Ginny since the divorce. And most of it had come recently with promotions for the World Cup. But even then, the promoters were wise enough to know it was best to keep the Bats and the Harpies separate for their promotions.

"Yes. Popped right over and looked disdainfully around my apartment," Luna explained. "And then she explained to me that I should stay away from you. And that you were a lecherous pig who fucks your agent every chance you get."

"Ouch," Harry said as he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of cider. "And what, may I ask, did you say?" He wasn't particularly sure where this was going. It was slightly odd hearing Luna swear, even if it was as part of a quote.

"I told her that we were friends. And that you were a far better friend than she had been. And that it just happened I was living in Ballycastle while you were playing for Ballycastle. I said we don't see each other often. But it's always nice to know someone." Luna explained.

"And she said?" he asked.

"Oh she raved a bit and told me I didn't know what I was talking about. To which I replied that it wasn't like we were dating or anything." Harry's heart fell as she spoke.

"We aren't dating?" he asked quietly. Luna appraised him for a moment as she finished her chicken.

"Well that depends, Harry. Are you fucking your agent?" she spoke very matter-of-factly as she took a sip of cider.

"I..uhm…no. I mean, well. I slept with her once. When she was helping me with the divorce. It just sort of happened. She claimed I needed it. Past that our relationship has been completely professional," Harry admitted. Luna looked at him for a minute more.

"And how many people know about that?" Luna asked.

"Well, me and her, obviously. And some reporters guessed right. Past that no one," he explained. She sipped her cider once more.

"And now me," she said.

"And now you," he responded. Still not sure where the conversation was going.

"But yea," Luna continued. "She showed up and yelled at me quite a bit. So I lied to her and she eventually left. Didn't even ask to go to lunch or something. She's different from how she was during school."

"Yes, she is," Harry admitted, feeling slightly relieved. Although he wasn't sure how true that statement was. He liked to think it all changed when she graduated. But what if he'd just missed something? He shook the thought out of his head. It didn't matter anymore, and he wouldn't waste time thinking about it. "But why would you ask about Daphne?"

"Oh, that," Luna shrugged. "Well, I've just always been curious. I figured you'd deny it. But you've always been pretty honest with those you trust, haven't you?"

"I guess," Harry muttered. "But it doesn't bother you?"

"No," Luna said. "Who you slept with a year ago is doesn't concern me. We weren't dating. You didn't even know I lived in Ballycastle, nor were you playing for the Bats." Harry couldn't help but smile. He was worried she'd judge him, but she'd just shrugged it off.

"So we are dating then," he teased.

"It's amazing you weren't in Ravenclaw, what with your deductive abilities," she responded dryly.

"Well we hadn't said anything. And I didn't know if it needed to be said or what," Harry admitted.

"Everything should be said at some point, Harry, but it didn't really need it," she responded. "I haven't been telling people that Harry Potter is my boyfriend, but I have considered you it for a few weeks now." He noticed she blushed slightly as she spoke.

"And I've considered you my girlfriend," Harry confirmed. "Now, do you want to order dessert?"

"No. Let's go back to your house and make those milkshakes Titus talked about. Assuming you have the ingredients?"

"Kahlua, Frangelico, Baileys and ice cream? I should. If not I'll send Kreacher out."

"Good. Let's do that then. It'll be more fun," Luna said. Harry gave her a quick nod and flagged down the waiter and got the check. A moment later the couple left the bistro. Luna took his hand and nearly skipped the entire way back to Grimmauld place. It was almost challenging to keep up with her.

After returning to Harry's London house they immediately went into the kitchen. Luna found two glasses in the one of the cupboards as Harry dug around for the ingredients. He was pleasantly surprised that he had them all. He used his wand to scoop a bunch of vanilla ice cream into a bowl, then added a couple of shots of the alcohol before sealing the bowl with a quick spell, and using another to blend it all together. He examined his creation before pouring two glasses. Titus swore by these milkshakes for late night summer fun. Harry half wondered how the beater stayed in shape.

"Woah," Luna said after sipping hers. "That's dangerous." They walked to an upstairs sitting room with a large window that looked over the street outside the house. Luna sat down on the couch. Harry sat next to her and she leaned against him.

"There's not that much alcohol in them," Harry responded and took a sip of his. "But yea, you're right. You can't taste it at all."

"Should add some vodka next time," Luna suggested.

"I don't know, that could be overkill," Harry said, taking another sip of his. Luna did the same and seemed to consider her next words for a few seconds.

"Perhaps. But you'd at least know there was booze in it then," she said.

"That's true," Harry said. He gazed out the window. It was hard to believe he'd sat on that very couch and stared out that window while thinking about how nice it would be to be married to Ginny and raise a family in that house. He'd hoped to be able to name his kids in honor of his parents. But now, he just didn't think about that.

"What are you thinking about?" Luna asked after a moment of silence.

"Oh, nothing really. I sat up here a lot when I was an Auror and this just reminded me of those days."

"What did you think about then?" She asked.

"The war, life, what I was doing, how I wanted a family, pretty standard stuff," he replied. She just nodded and finished off her drink. She placed the empty cup on the table, leaning across him to do so.

"And what were you thinking about?" he mimed.

"That you're very handsome, and I'm very lucky," she admitted, looking up at him. She shifted herself on the couch until she could lay comfortable across his lap, her head resting on the arm rest.

"I've changed what I'm thinking about," Harry said quietly as she looked up at him.

"Oh? What now?"

"That I should have gone and found the pretty blonde in my lap a lot sooner," he said. She smiled and sat up before leaning in and giving him a very soft kiss.

"That would have been a better idea," she said after their lips parted. "I'm also thinking something new."

"And that would be?"

"I think we should go to bed," she said quietly. He picked her up and carried her toward the bedroom.

"I think that sounds like a good idea," he said as he set her on her feet in the doorway. She gave him another quick kiss before ducking into the master suite. He followed and saw her slip into the bathroom with her bag.

Harry slowly changed into his pajamas, in this case just a pair of athletic shorts with a bats logo on one leg. He had to admit, free team clothing was a perk. He couldn't help but fantasize about Luna changing in the bathroom as he crawled into the bed. She'd spent the night before, but they'd never done more than make out. He'd wanted to, but she'd always asked him to stop, and he always had. Still, it was nice to have a very warm bed and someone to cuddle with.

He looked up as he heard the bathroom door open and watched Luna walk out. She wore a thin white nightgown and had let her hair down. It was nearly transparent and in the dark of the room she looked almost ethereal. He watched quietly as she approached and crawled into the bed next to him. He propped himself up on his elbow as she lay next to him.

"You really are beautiful," Harry said as he traced a hand over her face.

"Took you long enough to notice," she responded, smiling. "Tried to get you under the mistletoe fourth year, but you jumped away, then fifth when you took me to that ball. Just friends, pfft." He couldn't help but smile back as he kissed her again. She pulled him onto her as she kissed him back. Like always, they started very slowly, and very carefully. His lips rarely left hers as their bodies pressed together. After a few soft kisses his hands wandered over her sides, around her back, and up into her hair. He loved having his hands in her hair. It was so very soft and wonderful to touch. He lost himself in her lips as he kept kissing her.

"Oh Luna," he moaned against her lips. He noticed that he'd pushed her gown up to her waist. "If I keep kissing you, I may not be able to stop," he admitted, panting softly, as he rolled off of her. She was silent for a moment before she surprised him by rolling over and straddling him.

"Then don't stop," she whispered against his lips. She leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips as she pressed herself down against him. Her hands found his and she guided them to the bottom of her gown. He had it off of her in moments. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. He admired her for a moment, before letting his hands slide around every inch of her. She leaned down to kiss him once more, deeply, and he let himself go. He wanted nothing more than her, and there she was.

He wasn't sure when she took off the rest of his clothing, or how long they simply kissed and explored each other for. But he knew that he'd never forget how she looked and felt as her body arched against his when he pressed into her for the first time. He barely registered her grimace as they made love for the first time.

After, they simply lay cuddled together in a heap, breathing heavily as they clung to each other. Harry never wanted to let her go. He kissed her softly after a few moments, holding her body as tightly to his as he could. Luna broke the silence first.

"I'll come to the finals, at the very least," she said. "I should be able to get off a couple of days before it and join you. So you better make it there."

"I'll do my best." Harry smiled, staring into her pretty blue eyes.

"Good." She nestled closer to him, burying her face into his neck. He took a deep breath. It was probably too early for what he wanted to say, but it didn't matter. She made him feel far better and far happier than Ginny ever had.

"I love you, Luna," he said quietly into the darkness of the bedroom. She didn't stir. For a moment, he expected that she'd fallen asleep in his arms. But then she spoke.

"I love you too, Harry. I think I always have." She lifted her head up and kissed him once more before whispering. "But now it's time to sleep. I'll still be here in the morning."

"Good," Harry said quietly as she rested against him once more. In just a matter of moments they were both asleep.

He darted around the Bulgarian chasers, making sure Krum followed him through the fray. He did, and the Bulgarian chasers had to pull out of their formation to avoid contact. Harry took a moment to glance at the scoreboard. They had a fifty point lead, but didn't appear to be able to make it any larger than that. He could tell that Krum was frustrated enough by that point. But frustration could only be so much of a weapon. He needed to end the match soon, while Krum was still annoyed.

He flew around the stands once more, half wondering why Krum hadn't called a time out there. Titus would have after the chasers were disrupted like that. He swerved around, looking for Krum, and realized why the Bulgarian didn't call a timeout. Krum was racing toward the snitch. It was across the pitch and low to the ground. Krum had a head start on him, but he certainly had a better line.

The crowd caught on when Harry swerved hard and put himself on a line directly at the snitch. He knew he'd only get one chance to guess at which way the little golden ball would move when the two seekers approached, and that the little movement from that could decide the match.

The snitch climbed as the two seekers approached. Harry lifted his broom up quickly, but Krum managed to cut in front of him. Harry cursed and slipped behind the Bulgarian, waiting for the right moment to make any sort of a move. The snitch faked right before cutting left nearly ninety degrees. The move caught Krum slightly off-guard and Harry managed to cut to the inside of his opposite. They flew evenly, knocking into each other as they tried for the advantage.

The snitch kept climbing as it evaded the two seekers. Finally, when it neared the center of the pitch, it dove. Harry recognized the move. Sometimes snitches just seemed to know it was over. The ball was giving itself up. It would simply come down to who could catch it first. And Harry liked to think he was the fastest diver in the British and Irish league.

He immediately pressed his broom downward, putting next to no angle in his line to the snitch. He did everything in his power to ignore the larger Bulgarian flying nearly evenly with him. The Bat accelerated quicker than Krum's broom, and Harry could keep himself lower to it. He saw Krum falling out of his vision as he pressed closer to the golden ball. A moment later he saw Krum pull up above him. His opposite was experienced enough to know he just didn't have the speed for the dive, and would have to rely on Harry missing the catch.

But Harry wasn't about to let that happen. He inched closer toward the snitch, it was almost in his grasp when he saw Krum again. The Bulgarian shot ahead and was going to attempt to cut Harry off. Harry rolled hard to the left and barely avoided Krum. Krum tried to stay on the line, but Harry finished his roll back in front.

The snitch was nearly to the ground. Harry pressed himself forward, waiting for it to change direction. After another moment, it did. The golden ball attempted to fly straight up. Harry lifted himself up and swiped at the ball as it passed over his head. He felt the impact in his glove and let the momentum of the snitch carry him upwards for a moment.

"Harry Potter has done it!" He heard Dickerson yell. He could barely hear the announcer over the crowd. "The English have won the World Cup! England has won the World Cup!" He held the golden ball into the air for a moment before making sure he had it secured in his hand. He knew what would happen next.

Titus was the first to him. The beater always seemed to try to fly through him, rather than to him. He felt his friends arms wrap around his neck. He could hear Titus yelling, but he couldn't make out the words. Jason and Oliver hit him next. He wasn't sure which of them clasped him on the back, or which of them was crying.

Katie arrived as soon as Jason and Oliver moved to congratulate Titus. She flung her arms around him and kissed him fully on the lips, before breaking away from him and giving the rest of the boys the same treatment. Harry couldn't help but notice that Jason got the longest, and deepest, kiss. He wished them the best. Gwenog just gave him a quick congratulations. She took the snitch from him and gave it to the official for inspection. The official declared England the official winners and handed the snitch back to Harry. He spun his broom back toward his teammates and found himself face to face with Ginny.

She looked as uncomfortable as he felt. She didn't hug him, and she certainly didn't look nearly as exuberant as the rest of the team. Harry just smiled at her and flew toward her. He hugged her, and laughed when she tensed, before pulling her into the celebration with the rest of the team.

The officials broke them apart after a few moments. The team lined up near the center of the pitch and shook hands with the Bulgarians over the middle of the pitch. Krum looked sick, Harry didn't even want to fathom what he must have felt like.

The trophy presentation came next. Gwenog Jones joined the Swedish Minister above the pitch and waited to accept the large cup. Harry floated over toward his friends in the stands.

"Congratulations 'Arry!" he heard either Fleur or Gabrielle yell. It was amazing how similar they sounded.

"Thanks," he responded, smiling at both of them.

"Yea, good job Potter, you're going to make me so much money," Daphne teased from nearby.

"Told you I wouldn't disappoint," he laughed. "Just make sure I get most of it." He looked away from Daphne to the girl he'd flown over to spoke to. She shied away from him, as if she didn't want to be a part of the festivities. He smiled a little bit at Luna.

"Cute wings," he said, drawing some agreement from the nearby spectators. "I hope the match lived up to your expectations?" She looked at him like he was insane.

"Of course I did!" she yelled over the still screaming fans. "It was amazing!"

"Good," he smiled. "Now come here." He grabbed her out of her seat and placed her on the broom in front of him.

"Harry!" she shrieked. "You're going to get me killed!" But as soon as she was on the broom she trusted him enough to lean back and let him hold her.

"You'll be fine. I'm a professional," he said as he flew back over toward the trophy presentation.

"I shouldn't be a part of this," she stated as they watched Gwenog take the trophy from the Minister. "It's your party, and your trophy. Don't you want to hold it?"

"I'm holding the only thing I really want to hold," he said, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

"Lame, Harry," she said. Gwenog brought the trophy back toward the rest of the team. She handed it to Ginny first, but Harry paid more attention to the pretty blonde on his broom.

"Yes. But it's true," he said. He lowered the broom slowly, away from his teammates celebration. He stepped off the broom and Luna did the same. Before she could say anything he kissed her, deeply. The crowd noticed. Harry was sure it appeared on the screens around the stadium, but he didn't care. She kissed him back, her hands sliding around his back and up into his hair.

"Well, we're not going to be hidden if you keep doing that, Harry," Luna said as she pulled away.

"I know. But I love you, Luna Lovegood, and I don't care if everyone else knows that. I'm yours, and I want you to be mine," he said to her. Part of him, a very small part, had considered proposing to Miss Lovegood in Sweden. But it was too soon for that. And he knew he wasn't ready to tread down that path once more.

"As long as you're mine, I'll be yours," she responded so quietly he could barely hear her.

"Good," he smiled and kissed her once more. He heard cheering from the fans, and jeering from his friends and teammates. He could sense the flashbulbs going off in the stadium. But he didn't care. He loved Luna, and somehow he knew that he would never lose her. And, at least for the moment, that was perfect.

Author's note: Well, that's the end of this one. This chapter took forever to write, for a wide variety of reasons. There's some bits I'm not overly happy with. But I figured I should just complete the story. I may edit it up a bit later and shift some things around, but I haven't particularly decided on that yet.

This will also probably be my last update for a while. I have some idea for Pure Blood Princess, but I'm going to focus on some original work instead for now. Thanks for all of the reviews and support, I appreciate every bit of it.

7. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for some beta work and idea bounding.

Notes: Part two of my four part series of Christmas challenges.

Epilogue

Sweden, Again

Luna snored. She didn't snore loudly, but she still snored. Harry rolled over in bed and looked at her. She always slept flat on her back. He watched her for a moment and then turned to see the clock. It read eight fifty-nine. He frowned and rolled onto his back.

It had been a surprisingly rough year, altogether much harder than Harry had thought it would be. It had started blissfully enough. Their early December wedding had been a rather quiet affair. It was mostly just people Harry knew from Quidditch, teammates and the like, Ron and Hermione, and the rest of the Weasley family. Well, except for Ginny.

Whoever had two weeks in the pool for how long their truce after the World Cup was the winner. But it had only taken Ballycastle thrashing Holyhead to end everything between them once again.

He rolled back onto his side, not the least bit tired at the early hour, and stared at Luna. He wondered how his first thought when seeing her back what felt like a decade ago wasn't simply how beautiful she was. Perhaps, at the time, her quirkiness has blinded him. Or maybe at fourteen she simply wasn't as pretty as she was now.

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead as lightly as he could muster, taking in the scent of her vanilla shampoo. At the touch of his lips on her skin she groaned and rolled onto her side, back to him.

"Sleepy," she muttered into the darkness, pressing her behind into him. Harry didn't say anything in response, but instead just held her until she drifted off again. Once he was sure she was out he slipped from the bed and looked around the tent.

Yes, he thought to himself, the tent.

Taking an anniversary vacation to Sweden had sounded like such a pleasant way to celebrate their first year as husband and wife. So, when she'd suggested it, seeming rather sheepish to even do so, he'd agreed immediately.

He had images of relaxing in fancy hotels, wandering through Swedish cities and towns, and enjoying Christmas customs in another land. He'd actually thought the two of them being completely alone for the holiday sounded like a wonderful change of pace.

But what he'd gotten. Was hiking and camping. He'd tried to be a good sport about it. Really, he had. But it was growing harder and harder. They were six days in to their three-week trip and he was losing his damn mind.

And it wasn't even like they were muggle camping. That would have been even worse. No at least he had a controlled environment, access to real food, Kreacher a word away, and the ability to get back to civilization in a split second.

He debated making that retreat far more often than he wanted to publicly admit. In fact, even now, he thought about popping back to Stockholm or anywhere with a hotel, decorations, and a bar.

Okay, that wasn't fair. The tent had a Christmas tree. A real one too. Well, if something magically preserved and decorated counted as real. Harry figured it did.

In fact, really, something more festive showed up every time they set up the tent. He was sure Luna was doing it. But he couldn't figure out exactly how or when she was doing it. He wanted to ask her, but he figured that would spoil it somehow. Instead he focused on trying to catch her in the act. He wanted to tell her how much he loved all of the new decorations as she was doing it. He thought that would make it sweeter.

Catching her had proven to be rather difficult. He was always the last one out of the tent, and the one that packed it up, and then put it out. And usually the first person to enter it. And he made sure to watch her before she stepped outside every morning.

And yet, every single time he entered there was something new. The first day it had been the tree, glowing from magical candles and sparkling with tinsel. He'd marveled at it and laughed merrily, figuring it was something Luna had done that he'd just not noticed when she set up.

But the second night there was a wreath hanging on the inside of the door and mistletoe littered all over the tent. Luna had insisted that they kiss under each sprig. And Harry was certainly not opposed to that. Especially because there were quite a few sprigs above the bed.

He stepped into the kitchen and opened the ice box. Luna wasn't a big fan of beer, so they'd brought more wine than beer. But he'd made sure there were a few. He pulled one out and flicked the cap off, taking a long swig and sitting down in one of the stools at the island in the kitchen.

He glanced toward the bed and frowned as he watched Luna roll back onto her back. She reached out into his spot on the bed, but her arm just fell dead there and she snored once more.

She'd been more affectionate in their time in Sweden than since very early in their wedded days. And he wasn't one to protest against that. When she'd insisted on all of the kisses he'd happily obliged, giggling with her each time their lips parted.

He took another sip of beer. Still frowning at the thought of not being in a metropolitan area. He had debated a few nights previously actually sneaking outside and apparating back to town for a night. But deep down he knew that if Luna found out she'd be beyond heartbroken. So, he'd stayed in the tent. Just like he was doing now.

He slid his fingers over the garlands that wrapped around the edge of the island. They'd shown up on day three, frosted in enchanted snow that never left the branch. They were also wrapped around the stools and above the fireplace. Although icicles were affixed to the one above the fireplace.

At that point he'd started paying careful attention to the tent when they broke camp. He'd spend far too much of the next day wandering around outside in the snow while wondering just how things showed up and when.

He knew she was waiting for him to ask. But that would be letting her win. And he was far too competitive to let her win. So instead he just watched as new things showed up day after day with no real rhyme or reason.

The last one, though, he wasn't quite sure how she'd top. A single stocking hung at each end of the fireplace. The one on the left was scarlet and gold and embroidered with 'Harry' up the side. It was decorated with a knit lion, snitches, brooms and Buckbeak, or what looked like him. The one on the right was silver and blue and embroidered with 'Luna' up the side. It was decorated with images of socks, a threstral, a raven and the moon.

Harry had examined them while Luna had bathed that night. They were handmade with an obviously painstaking care. He wondered just when she'd had the time. But deep down he knew exactly when she'd found the time.

He washed that thought out of his brain with a rather large gulp of alcohol. It was nice.

He slipped from the barstool and paced around the tent. But he knew that was a fairly stupid pursuit and would result in nothing more than annoying Luna if it woke her. He went and leaned against the counter for lack of anything better to do and continued on with his drink.

Still he couldn't figure out when the decorating was being completed. She was so tired after their daily hiking she rarely stayed awake much passed whatever dinner they had. Only once had they resorted to summoning Kreacher to cook for them. The rest of the time Harry had while Luna practically dozed at the counter.

And she slept like a rock. He was up before her every morning, which was slightly unusual, but he never seemed quite as tired as her. He wondered if she was exhausting herself more than just during the day.

A pang shot through him at that. Could she be doing all of the decorating while he slept? Sneaking around and putting forth all that effort before he woke and then crawling back into bed? And the whole time she was probably just waiting for him to appreciate it. That thought stung him even more than leaving her alone.

Which really just forced the thoughts of leaving her alone back into his mind, quickly filling it with images of her laboring over stockings. He didn't like it. She'd long since confessed to him that she really disliked being alone. And it didn't help that she hated Grimmauld place.

And Harry couldn't blame her. He knew exactly what it reminded her of. Although it had bothered him that it had taken so long for her to admit it and him to realize it. They'd spent far more time in his small Ballycastle apartment than in his larger home. He'd already started to investigate real estate options. He knew she'd like a house of her own. But he couldn't find something he could see her in.

He knew that it was probably more likely he'd pick out lingerie she'd actually wear than a house she'd actually like. And it had been a bit of a bone of contention between the two of them.

But he wanted to find multiple options and go with her to look and then work with her to narrow them down. He just didn't want it to seem like he was buying a house to have somewhere to put her. He'd found that he really enjoyed cities more than the country, but Luna never seemed comfortable amongst the hustle and bustle.

Whenever they talked of living arrangements the topic grew rather tense. It hurt him to see she was unhappy. And he could tell she was unhappy easily enough. Yet he really didn't wish to argue with her about it. And he knew no matter where they lived town was, at worst, a fistful of floo powder away.

But no matter how he tried to broach the subject they just wound up arguing. Really, he thought, he was a very wealthy professional quidditch player. And he made way too much money to permanently reside in a one-bedroom apartment in Ballycastle.

He'd made the mistake of actually voicing that aloud during one of their more minor arguments. And, perhaps unsurprisingly, it had immediately escalated into their worst row.

At two points in his life people had told him the first year of marriage would be the hardest by far. His first go around it hadn't seemed difficult, but in hindsight his marriage with Ginny was arguably well over before the end of the first year.

He hadn't even really reflected on those words until that argument.

Dwelling on that memory wasn't an ideal way to pass the time, though. He did his best not to. Unfortunately, at that moment, his best was simply finishing his beer. He vanished the bottle and summoned another one to him.

He flipped the cap off and took another swig before standing again. He had too much energy to stay inside the tent. He scribbled a quick note, leaving it on the counter, and stepped over toward the door, stepping into his boots which he'd left beside it, and stepped out into the cold December air in the mountains of Sweden.

It only took him a minute to realize just how terrible of an idea that was. The mountains of northern Sweden were not a very hospitable place to a young man in shorts and a t-shirt. Although, the boots did help to ward against the snow.

Thankfully, though, that young man also happened to be a wizard. And magic could do wonderful things. Sure, it wasn't advisable to rely purely on warming charms, and most of them were more mental placebo than anything else. But he knew enough magic to prevent himself from freezing to death.

He didn't trudge far from the tent anyway. He transfigured some fallen sticks into a chair and then conjured a magical fire before him and stared up at the sky. He knew it was probably dangerous to do so, but he felt confident enough in his own abilities incase anything came. But he thought he was still close enough to the tend to be protected by the area defenses on it.

He stared at the fire for a few moments before turning his gaze upward to the twinkling stares. They were really quite beautiful up here. He searched for the constellations he remembered from Astronomy before his gaze rested on the three-quarter moon and his thoughts drifted toward the past.

He'd stumbled home after a rather late match. Well, not home, he'd thought to himself. The apartment wasn't home. It didn't feel like home. It was too cramped and small and in too quiet of a part of town.

It seemed odd to him, if he thought about it, that when he was trying to sleep he missed the noise and omnipresent light of London. The quiet and still darkness always left him feeling on edge. It reminded him too much of points in his life he'd rather forget. But sometimes, like tonight, it just didn't seem feasible to travel that far.

It didn't help that he'd had a few beers after the match without really eating anything, either.

He made his way through the entryway and up the stairs to the apartment. It was a magical building, but the landlord had placed extensive anti-alteration charms on it. Harry had seriously considered breaking them and altering the place to something more suitable for him.

But when he'd gone to work on that he found that the charms were quite intertwined with the building and he couldn't really remove them without demolishing the entire thing. Which he figured would be rather problematic. Although his teammates on the Bats would probably be incredibly amused by the headlines that followed.

Instead he figured he'd just bear it until his lease was up at the end of the year. Or so he'd figured. But he hadn't counted on his wife.

It was still strange thinking of her as that. He'd never really gotten used to it with Ginny, either. And it still rang oddly in his thoughts. Mostly he'd given up with trying to make it sound normal. He didn't like thinking of her as his wife, or even his Luna. He didn't like qualifying her with a possessive. He just liked thinking of her as Luna.

It amused him how much different she was from Ginny. Where Ginny had never been around, Luna was always around. He liked it, at first. At least until he realized that he needed to sneak away if he wanted to be alone. And there were points in his life when Harry liked being alone. He'd grown accustomed to it in his youth and there were simply points when he wanted to be left alone.

In his adult life he'd simply gone home for those periods. But now when he went home Luna was there. He couldn't order her away. Nor did he really want to. But he also couldn't think of a way to tell her he wanted to be left alone without hurting her feelings.

So instead he'd head to a bar and drink too much. She'd be annoyed with him when he came home. And then he'd feel bad. It was a dysfunctional cycle he wasn't sure how to break.

He entered the apartment, rather surprised to find candles ablaze as he did. A look at the clock showed it was quarter past one, which was typically well past Luna's bedtime. He saw her on the couch, reading one of Scamander's books. He couldn't see the title page but he thought it was just a collection of essays the zoologist had written in the forties.

Harry frowned and wondered why she was still awake. She didn't look at him when he entered. But he could already feel the tension building in the room, like she was making an intentional effort to not look his way.

"Your birthday is February, we got married in December, what holiday did I miss?" he asked quietly. He saw a pot of tea on the counter and warmed it with a flick of his wand before pouring himself a cup.

"You didn't miss anything," she said stiffly.

"Why are you still up then?" he asked. Her mouth twitched.

"Is that a problem?" she responded, more coldly than he could remember her ever really sounding. She closed the book and put it on the bedside table.

"Not at all," he said. "It's just unusual."

"I guess," she said. She stood picked up the mug of tea that was next to her on the couch. She stepped into the kitchen, ducking around him as she did, and cleaned it with a flick of her wand before putting it back in the cupboard.

She was wearing flannel pajama pants with a matching flannel long-sleeved shirt. Both were too big for her and hung off her like a gigantic blanket. He disliked her choice of pajamas. But there was certainly no good way of broaching that subject.

He tried to imagine the conversation. The worst part was that deep down he knew if he said, 'Hey Luna, could you maybe wear less to bed so I can leer at your legs and touch your skin while we cuddle?' that she probably would. But what would that make him? How could he ask her to sacrifice her own comfort for his general amusement? That made him feel like a creep just thinking about it.

"What's up?" he asked

"Nothing," she said.

"This doesn't feel like nothing," he responded, taking a sip of the tea.

"No it's," she shrugged her shoulders and leaned back against one of the cabinets.

"What is it, Luna?" Harry asked, finding himself growing impatient.

"Why is our lease renewal in the garbage?" she blurted out. Harry blinked a bit at her. His first thought was that her name wasn't on it. And as such it wasn't really theirs. His second thought was that his first thought was incorrect and what was his was also hers.

"I hate this place," Harry said.

"I don't," Luna said.

"It's small and cramped and feels too sterile and I can't do anything to it to make it feel like home and it's awful," Harry continued without really hearing her.

"It feels safe," Luna said.

"What?" Harry laughed. Luna turned bright red and turned to run but had to go through him to get out of the small kitchen and he caught her easily. She hid in his chest for a moment before taking one long breath and stepping away from him.

"I don't want to leave," she said.

"But this place is terrible," Harry said. "And I hate writing rent checks."

"This is my home," Luna frowned. Harry just stared at her and then looked around the apartment.

"This?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "There's like nothing of us here. It's so sterile."

"I don't want to move to London," she said. "I hate Grimmauld Place. It's so dark and it reminds me…." She stopped talking mid-sentence.

"We don't have to mo-wait. You hate my house?" Harry asked.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"But why?" he asked.

"It's dark and creepy," Luna said.

"I'm working on that," Harry said.

"You change like one thing a month. Maybe," Luna said. "I'm the one left there when we stay there."

"It's not like you have to sit around," Harry said.

"It's like being back at Malfoy manor," Luna continued.

"What?" Harry blinked.

"It makes me feel like I'm locked in the basement wondering what they'll do to me next," she said sternly. "It's cold. It's dark. And it's terrifying."

"You can't actually mean that," Harry said.

"I do," Luna said.

"That's ridiculous," Harry said.

"Oh? So, you think I'm ridiculous? Just being Loony?" Luna said.

"No, I don't think that at all," Harry said.

"Sure you don't. Do you think I can't tell what people are thinking about me when they look at me? You think I don't understand those glances? They've followed me for my entire life," Luna snapped.

"You never said anything!" Harry responded.

"Because I knew you'd react like this! And we spend more time here anyway!" Luna said.

"Only because it's during the season," Harry responded.

"Well I would have brought it up when you weren't focused on quidditch," Luna said. "And I don't want to have to floo to Ballycastle every day for work."

"But still, this place?" he asked.

"I like this place. You never said you hated it," Luna responded.

"Well it is pretty awful," Harry said.

"It's perfectly fine!" Luna said.

"It's tiny, and cramped, and we can't do anything with it," Harry said.

"Cramped? You don't like being close to me?!" Luna flushed red and looked close to tears as she spoke.

"No! I love being close to you!" Harry said, wondering if constantly trying to hold her and cuddle sort of gave that away or not. "I just want someplace that's mine. Where we can stretch out, and actually do something with it. Don't you want something yours?"

"I can't afford something mine," Luna said. "And I don't want to be a housewife. I don't want to quit my job. I know it's stupid but I like it."

"It's not stupid," Harry said. "But, well, you don't need to be able to afford anything. I can afford pretty much anything we could need."

"That's not the point!" Luna said. She balled her hands together and stared at him for a moment before just shaking her head. "You know what, I don't want to argue. I'm going to bed."

"I'll join you," Harry said, perhaps too hopefully.

"No," Luna said. "Not tonight. Please not tonight."

"I, uhm, okay," Harry said, watching her step into their bedroom and close the door. He remembered remembering that he hadn't even realized there was a door, as they'd never closed it before. It immediately made the apartment feel even smaller than it was.

He frowned and peeled off his shirt and pants before transfiguring the rest of his clothing into pajamas and then he conjured a pillow and a blanket and tossed himself onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. He started counting the popcorns on it as a means of trying to sleep.

A rustling in the woods caused him to slip from the memory. His gaze shot toward the trees. He didn't see anything moving, but that wasn't enough to prevent him from leveling his wand on the tree line.

The wind gusted again the trees rustled once more. Harry tensed for a moment as they did, half expecting a lion or something absurd to come pouncing out at him, knowing full well that there were no lions in the Swedish mountains.

Well no African lions at least. There could be a mountain lion. But it was stupid to worry about that. No if he was going to be worried about some sort of random creature, he should be worried about a Swedish Short-Snout or a Norwegian Ridgeback.

He frowned and thought it was best if he not worry about fighting off a dragon unless he absolutely had to. Of course, so far, the most dangerous thing they'd encountered had been a handful of Glumbumbles on day to. But Luna had distracted them long enough for them to escape unharmed.

Harry decided he was safe, at least for the time being, and went back to remembered being very worried that night. He'd lain on the couch and wondered just what he should have done differently. The obvious answer was talk to her earlier about it. But he hadn't even realized she hated Grimmauld Place. He remembered feeling absolutely lost and wondering if it was the beginning of the end. It had been the only time his relationship with Luna had felt like his relationship with Ginny.

It had taken him over an hour of worrying, an hour of wondering exactly what he should do or say, an hour of reviewing every response in his head and wondering just what should have been different, before he finally drifted off to sleep.

He was awoken what felt like moment later. But it had been at least a few hours, he knew, because the first vestiges of morning light were filtering into the living room. A familiar vanilla scented weight rested on him. He lifted his hands and wrapped them around her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Me too," he said.

"Forgive me?" she asked.

"Depends on how much my back and neck hurt when I become coherent," Harry said.

"I'll brew you a pain potion," Luna responded.

"I'd prefer a massage," Harry said.

"Call the team trainer," she responded.

"Ouch," Harry responded.

"We're okay?" Luna asked quietly.

"Always," Harry said.

"I'd forgotten how much I hated sleeping alone," she said.

"Me too," Harry yawned, feeling the warmth and exhaustion start to overtake him once more. "But here I thought you felt I was a bit too handsy."

"You are," Luna wiggled against him. "But I still like having you there."

"Uh-huh, sure," Harry teased while cupping her bottom in one hand. She squirmed more against him but didn't protest.

"You really hate it here?" she asked.

"Yes," he responded. "But not because of you. I just. I guess I really don't like paying rent, or the landlord, or the specific apartment. I mean I like Ballycastle. I don't want you to quit your job. But if you wanted to, I mean, I wouldn't stop you."

"I don't want to," she said.

"I know," he responded.

"Although I am really sick of the girls making comments about my ring," Luna said.

"Did I go overboard?" Harry asked, wondering if she'd drop another bomb on him. He'd spent what felt like months trying to pick it out. He'd dragged Titus and Jason to look as well. But he soon realized that their opinions were beyond unhelpful.

Eventually he'd settled on a round diamond with a halo of sapphires around it set on a white gold band. When he'd given it to her and asked the question she'd hyperventilated, then beamed, then cried, then beamed and then finally told him yes.

"Not as much as you could have," Luna said. "And I love it. And Megan is fine because she knows you. But the other girls wonder what little odd Luna is doing with a huge diamond on her finger."

"Mean of them," Harry said.

"People are mean," Luna responded. "Especially unhappy ones."

"They can be," Harry agreed, figuring that was his best option at the moment. He wanted to refute her statement, but he couldn't really do so. He knew full well people could be terrible even if he often chose to believe in them.

"They're just jealous anyway," Luna said, dismissively.

"They should be I am pretty amazing," Harry said. Luna snorted.

"You didn't hear that," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said.

"I am not old enough to be a 'ma'am' please don't ever call me that again. And don't respond 'yes, ma'am' right now, either," Luna said. Harry fought the urge to make a witty retort, but decided on redirecting the subject.

"Do you really hate London?" he asked, countering her earlier question.

"Yes," Luna said quietly.

"Why?" he asked.

"It's crowded and dirty and smells," Luna said. Harry opened his mouth, but closed it right away and took a moment to not respond with how silly he found that.

"I see," he said instead.

"I don't like cities. They make me feel claustrophobic. And afraid. Ever since—" Luna started.

"I know," Harry said as it clicked in his mind. They'd found her at the train station.

She was going to Knight Bus from King's Cross to The Leaky Cauldron to use the public floo there to get back to her house and her father. But she'd decided that since it was a nice day she'd walk a bit first.

She'd set out into muggle London. And she'd enjoyed it. Everything was decorated and in full holiday swing. She'd spent quite a bit of time looking in windows and smiling at people and Christmas gifts and enjoying the holiday cheer.

He could picture her easily. She'd been young and naïve, not worried about anything. Not thinking Death Eaters would look for her in the city. Not thinking they would even think that Looney Lovegood could be a person of interest. He could see her protuberant eyes marveling at everything, giving her that surprised look he loved so much.

But they had decided Looney Lovegood was a target. Because she knew Harry Potter. And because her father was printing nasty things about them. So they reverted quickly to form and decided that the easiest way to shut him up would be to take his daughter.

They'd stalked her. She'd felt it. But she couldn't put a finger on the feeling. But it frightened her. Her instincts had told her to stay around people. But all the people around her were muggles, so she couldn't really tell anyone, or summon the Knight Bus. And she hadn't learned how to apparate yet, either.

She weaved through the streets, trying to figure out the best way to the Leaky Cauldron without leaving the crowded streets. But the dread filled her. She'd see something out of the corner of her eye, but when she'd look there would be nothing. Or she'd feel something behind her and then flash around to see nothing.

It hadn't mattered. The feeling just grew worse and worse. She tried to flee from it. To move further and further away from it. But it didn't work. No matter where she went she could feel their lingering presence behind her.

Eventually she made a wrong turn and wound up in a dark alley. She turned back to leave and they were there. Four of them. Her instincts kicked in and screamed to fight. She drew her wand and managed to get a stunner off into one of the men. But four on one wasn't particularly good odds.

They'd pinned her to the wall and taken her.

She'd been stuck at the manor, at least physically, until he'd rescued her. Sometimes he thought she was still there mentally. But he didn't know how to broach that subject with her.

She'd told him everything that had happened in the manor in a drunken stupor one night. Her talking after too many glasses of wine, her crying, her recounting everything, had been one of the worst nights of his life.

He'd cried with her, he'd held her, he'd told her that no matter what she thought, and no matter what they did to her or told her, she was good enough for him. No, she was too good for him. He was lucky she'd settled for him.

"So, cities are bad," he said, trying his best to not think any more about where his mind was going. Trying not to picture her, his beautiful young wife, in those evil situations.

"London is bad," Luna said.

"And my house is bad," Harry said. "Because it's in London?"

"Well that doesn't help it," Luna said.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"I'm almost positive that it shared the same interior decorator as Malfoy Manor," Luna said.

"Ah," Harry responded.

"I mean if we gutted it," Luna said.

"Not if you don't like London," Harry said.

"But you like London," Luna said.

"I like a lot of places," Harry said.

"Like?" she asked.

"Well I like Ballycastle," he said.

"But not here," she said.

"Well right now here is pretty nice," Harry said.

"If I lay on you constantly we'll be fine?" Luna said.

"I thought we established we were already fine?" Harry asked.

"Well yes, but what happens if I get off?" she asked.

"Let's worry about that later," Harry said.

"Okay, later," she said quietly. "When is later?"

"I don't know," Harry said.

"Okay," Luna said. She was silent for a few moments before whispering. "What do you want, anyway?"

"You," Harry said without hesitation.

"I would have thought that the ring and adopting your last name would have indicated my stance on that," Luna said.

"I can be slow," Harry said.

"I know," Luna said. Harry chuckled quietly under his breath.

"I hadn't really thought about it too much. I think like a nice two story out on the coast. Maybe overlooking it up on some cliffs. A little garden. Close enough to walk into town if the mood took me, but far enough away to be secluded," Harry admitted, picturing it in his head. Luna was quiet for a moment. Harry wondered what was going through her head. He wondered just what she thought of him. He wondered if she thought he wanted a grand manor with a lady of the house and more gold leaf than should be legal.

"That sounds nice," Luna said, her body pressing back into his as she spoke.

"I thought so," Harry said, feeling calm rush through him. He knew nothing was settled yet. He knew things would still be rough here or there. But he also knew that they'd be able to move past things. That they just need to talk it out.

The trees startled him again. He slashed his wand over toward them, images of Graphorns flashing through his head. But nothing emerged. And nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the windy night.

He chuckled to himself, knowing full well that there was nothing to actually worry about. Or at least hoping that there was nothing to actually worry about. He relaxed in his chair and watched the window blow the pines. He refreshed his fire with a flick of his wand and turned his gaze toward the tent, thinking that perhaps he should return to the tent.

But he decided against it, instead taking a moment to sip his beer. He'd at least wait until he'd finished that. And then maybe even get another one, before he thought about trying to sleep.

The beer, some type of ale aged in Firewhiskey barrels, warmed him what felt like nearly as much as the warming spell he'd used to withstand the cold. His eyes flashed once more to the trees as the branches rustled once more.

"Harry?" Luna called from the tent. He let his gaze linger on the trees for another moment before looking back to the tent.

"Out here," Harry said.

"It's freezing," Luna said, waving her wand over herself. Fur lined boots appeared on her feet and a fur lining sprouted out of her nightgown as part of her own warming spell filled her. She stepped toward the fire as Harry waved his wand and conjured another chair. She handed him a fresh beer as she sat next to him.

"Thanks," he said. He finished his first one and then vanished the bottle before starting on the second. She took a sip of her own and then turned her gaze to the sky.

"Stargazing?" Luna asked, referencing the note he'd left.

"Well it seemed like a nice night, and the air is so clear up here. I thought it would be a shame to waste it," Harry said. He winced as soon as it came out as Luna took another sip of her beer.

"Sorry for being tired," she said.

"It's alright," Harry smiled. "I wasn't too far off of joining you, anyway."

"I still wish I wasn't so tired at the end of the day," Luna said.

"It's fine we're doing a lot of hiking and exploring during the day. It's certainly understandable," Harry said. Luna frowned at the patronizing nature of the comment.

"Still," she sighed. She turned her gaze to the forests as Harry turned his own to the clear skies.

"It really is beautiful up here," he said.

"It is. I always loved how clean it all felt. And fresh. And piney," Luna said.

"It is quite nice," Harry said, debating if 'piney' was a word but figuring since he wasn't Hermione he didn't need to call her on it.

"Did you see that?" Luna asked, sitting up in her chair and gazing into the tree line with furrowed brows.

"Probably just the wind," Harry said. "I've thought I've seen something a couple of times, but nothing comes out. I think it's just the wind rustling the pine needles."

"Probably," Luna said. She gazed toward the tree line for a few more minutes before relaxing into her chair. "I think the defenses on the tent stretch out further than that anyway. But…"

"But what?" Harry asked.

"I thought I saw red in the trees," Luna said. "Not just movement."

"Must be the fire playing ticks," Harry said.

"Must be," Luna agreed half-heartedly. She turned her gaze to the sky then, smiling at the constellations above her. Harry watched her. He liked watching her. He loved her profile, her eyes, her smile. But then he saw it. A faint red glowing orb in the tree line. A red glow that instantly reminded him of Lord Voldemort's eyes. Except there was only one orb floating in the trees.

His out-of-practice Auror instincts took over before his brain. He shot up and leveled his wand on the trees. The orb dimmed but didn't vanish.

"Luna get back to the tent," he said sternly.

"What why?" she asked. But then her eyes found where he was looking.

"I don't know what that is," he said. "But it's obviously infiltrated our charms."

"Then what's the point of the tent?" Luna asked, standing by his side and leveling her own wand on the trees.

"Good point," Harry said.

"Come out," Luna said to the trees. "We see you." The red light flashed again for a moment before dimming lower than before. A soft noise emanated from the forest. But it was nothing Harry understood.

"We don't understand," he said. "Show yourself and we won't harm you." For a moment nothing happened. But then Luna stepped closer to the trees. Harry tried to block her but instead just moved with her. The light dimmed again and Luna froze.

But then it grew closer. And closer. And closer. Until an abomination broke through the trees.

No, Harry thought, that was too harsh. It was ugly, for sure, but calling it an abomination was too far. He stared, taking in what he was seeing.

"Oh," Luna's voice hitched as it came to her well before it came to him. "Oh Merlin." And she ran forward, slipping away from his outstretched hand as he tried to hold her back, and wrapping her arms around the creature.

At first Harry thought it was a purple camel. But that wasn't right. It's fur seemed to shimmer between fur and scales, and differing shades of purples, blues and pinks. It had a single hump of a back, but the legs were much shorter than a creature one could ride.

"Mrawm?" It intoned as Luna squeezed it. It kept it's long and flat face focused on Harry. It almost seemed to be asking permission so Harry just nodded. It nuzzled into Luna then and Harry noticed the horn. It was perhaps a foot and a half long and crimped every few inches. The tip of it glowed red as it nuzzled her.

"Harry!" Luna gasped. "Are you….are you….are you seeing…this?" She struggled to get the words out as sobs shot through her.

"I am, love," he said, his wand still leveled on the creature.

"They exist, Harry. They exist! It's real!" Luna gasped.

"What?" Harry asked, lowering his wand and stepping toward it.

"It's a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!" she yelled. Harry stopped dead in his tracks and looked at it. Memories of her defending their existence firing through his mind. Harry stepped up toward it. One of it's eyes slid to him, slowly, and focused on his wand. He lowered it and tucked it into his pocket before reaching out and touching it.

"It's freezing," Harry said.

"Mrawm," the Snorkack toned.

"Come by the fire," Luna said, stepping back from it. It looked at her and tilted it's head to the side. And then a loud crack echoed through the mountains. When they turned the Snorkack was sitting curled next to the fire.

"Did it just apparate?" Harry asked.

"I think so!" Luna exclaimed, taking out her wand and pointing it at the tent. "Accio notebook!

"How could it possibly," Harry said.

"It must be super powerful for a creature," Luna said. The Snorkack just focused on Luna. She sat back in her chair and flipped the notebook to an empty page. Harry watched from behind her as she started to sketch it.

He saw the fervor take her over as she started to document everything about the creature as if determined not to miss a detail. They both let her work in silence.

"Thank you," Harry whispered at the creature when he was sure she was too absorbed in her work to notice.

"Mrawm," it said in response. It seemed to know every moment when Luna needed something. It would turn, or shift, or change position on command. And then when she'd finished drawing it, it let her examine and prod it.

The examination took well over an hour. It seemed to understand when she was done and chose that exact moment to stand and nuzzle her once more After a moment it nodded at Harry and with one more 'Mrawm' it disappeared with another loud crack.

"I don't believe it," Luna said, turning to him.

"Me either," he said. "Is that why you wanted come to Sweden?"

"No. I mean it's why my dad and I used to come here. But that was always in summer. I just remembered liking being here. I was actually going to suggest we spend another week in Stockholm when we got back. I really just wanted to explore a bit. I didn't think we'd actually find anything. I just like being out in the woods really."

"Will anyone believe us?" he asked.

"I don't know that I'll tell anyone," Luna said.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"It seemed nice. I don't want people swarming it and trying to hurt it," she said.

"It did," Harry agreed as he watched her sign and date her notes with her wand before levitating the notebook back to the tent.

"When did you decorate the exterior of the tent?" she asked.

"I didn't," Harry said, turning to look at the tent. It was now lined with ornamental decorations, the fire from their small camp reflecting in them, causing them to sparkle. "But I had been meaning to compliment you on the decorations in the tent."

"I thought you were decorating the tent," Luna said.

"I suck at decorating," Harry said.

"Well I haven't been doing it," Luna said. "I thought you were doing it when I was sleeping."

"I thought you were doing it before I woke up," Harry said.

"No, not me," Luna said.

"Well then who is breaking in and doing it?" Harry asked.

"Kreacher?" Luna suggested.

"No. Not like him. Wait, you don't think?" Harry turned back toward the fire and stepped toward where the creature had rested next to it.

"No way, how could it possibly?" she asked.

"How could it apparate?" he asked.

"Well I don't know it obviously had some sort of magic," Luna said as Harry kneeled next to where the creature had been moments before. He reached for something on the ground, his fingers rubbing against the fabric as he lifted it up. A soft jingle emanated around the mountain as he held it up.

"Uh, Luna?" he asked. He held up a plain white stocking with red trim and a jingle bell on the toe. It was decorated with a bright yellow sun, crossed broomsticks, a bright red quaffle, and a purple creature that looked surprisingly like a camel. Letters up the side of it spelled out the word 'Aurora'.

"Uhm," Luna blushed as she saw it. She looked away from him.

"Luna?" Harry asked again.

"Yes," she nodded, bringing her gaze back to him.

"Yes?" Harry asked. "Yes as in you're acknowledging me or yes as in yes?"

"Yes," Luna nodded and took a deep sha2ky breath before adding. "Yes." There was a brief flash of red light from the trees again, but neither of them noticed as Harry took her into his armed and kissed her hard.

"How long?" he asked.

"Eight to ten weeks," Luna said. "I haven't actually gone to the healer yet but I just know."

"Wow," Harry said.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to talk about it," Luna said. "I wasn't even trying. I must have messed up the potion somehow. Please don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad?" Harry asked. "I'm excited. I'm happy."

"Me too," Luna smiled brightly at him, her eyes wide and adoring. "And I guess you were right."

"About what?" Harry asked. Luna made an annoyed face at him.

"We're going to need another bedroom," she said. His lips met hers a moment later. When they parted he whispered to her.

"I think I found one we should look at. It's a two-story stone cottage just outside of town. Up on the cliffs by the sea. Lots of land. Needs some work, but we are magical," Harry said.

"It sounds nice," Luna said.

"We'll check it out when we go back," Harry said.

"I'd like that," Luna said.

"Should we go back inside and hang this above the fire?" Harry asked, holding up the stocking.

"I'd like that too," Luna said. Harry extinguished the fire with a flick of his wand and then took her by the arm and led her back to the tent. They slipped back inside, arm and arm, moments after midnight of their second Christmas.