Put Me in Coach!

13: Put Me in Coach!


Quidditch tryouts were announced for the following weekend. Ron was manic in his excitement, and even Harry found himself avoiding getting into yet another Quidditch conversation with him. Ron’s enthusiasm had gone so over the top, Harry feared no one from Gryffindor would show up at the tryouts, overwhelmed by the team’s new captain. Then again, they showed up for Oliver Wood, and he certainly was no less enthusiastic about the sport.

In an effort to focus on something besides Quidditch, Harry had begun making preparations for the first DA meeting, which was to be held the following week. Professor McGonagall had agreed to sponsor the club, and it was opened to all students. Ron had been horrified at the thought of the Slytherins being able to join, but Harry reassured him that he didn’t think any would come, anyway. He posted the flyers and set his charmed galleon to alert all the former members.

On Friday afternoon, Harry had another Apparition lesson with Remus. They had arranged to meet in the Room of Requirement, where Harry would try to Apparate for the first time. He was both thrilled and nervous. He’d enjoyed spending time with Remus, and they’d developed an easy camaraderie. Harry still found him difficult to talk to at times and often held back asking the things he wished he could just come out and say. He really wanted to talk with Remus about the prophecy, but he had been able to find the words. He was determined that this would be the day.

The frequency of Harry’s nightmares had lessened, and he found he could actually go an entire night here and there without his sleep being interrupted. He hadn’t had a vision since the Welcome Feast and was cautiously optimistic that the Occlumency was working. The prophecy, however, still weighed heavily on his mind. The more he’d been able to pull himself together and start focusing on his schoolwork, the more the panic would seem to set in. Casual comments about the future or musings about the upcoming war were some of the little things that made Harry’s heart beat faster, or moistened his brow with a cold sweat. Sometimes, he was sure his friends could hear his heart pounding and see the utter terror in his eyes. How am I going to do this ? Harry didn’t think he could.

In all likelihood, he would be dead before he ever had the chance to complete his seventh year. But if he died without defeating Voldemort, all hope for the future of his friends, of the Muggles and Wizards alike would be lost. If he couldn’t find a way to do this thing, Voldemort would win. Harry found he needed to continue to force his mind away from it, or the panic would completely overwhelm him. He’d reached a point where he was desperate to talk to someone about it and hoped it wouldn’t be too difficult to approach Remus.

Steeling himself, Harry made his way towards the Room of Requirement. Remus was waiting for him just outside.

“Harry! How are you? You’re looking well. This seems better,” Remus said, pointing to Harry’s eye. The black and blue coloring had faded, leaving the area a yellowish tint.

“Yeah, doing okay. How are things with you? I saw Tonks the other day; she seemed happy.”

Remus chose to ignore Harry’s bait, and it made Harry’s grin widen even further. “How’s Ginny doing?” Remus returned with a sly smile, and it was Harry’s turn to falter.

“Good…I mean…she’s a bit swamped with OWL preparation. She’s trying out for Chaser on the Gryffindor team tomorrow, so we’re going to practice some after dinner tonight.” Harry knew he was babbling but couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Remus wasn’t even bothering to hide his smile anymore, but decided to let Harry off the hook. “Okay, then, are you ready for this?”

The room was set up to be open; it was sparsely furnished with a single bookcase dividing the center of the room.

“We’re going to try and move from one side of the bookcase to the other. Ready for a go?”

Harry took a deep breath and plowed on before he lost his nerve. “Can I ask you something first, Moony?”

Detecting the serious, hesitant tone in Harry’s voice, Remus stopped and looked at him intently. “Anything, Harry.”

“Do you…d’you know about the prophecy?” Harry’s voice was nothing more than a strained whisper.

Remus sat down on the floor and leaned his back against the bookcase. “I do,” he said, sighing. “Sirius told me the night he showed up on my doorstep after the Third Task.”

Harry sunk down on the floor next to Remus and drew his knees up protectively against his chest. “Sirius knew?” This was news to Harry.

“Your parents told him when they asked him to be your godfather.”

“H-How did they learn about it?”

“I believe Dumbledore told them.”

Harry nodded, taking this in. It would make sense. He wondered if the Longbottoms had been warned about the danger to Neville, too. How had his parents taken the news…to be told that their infant son was destined to kill or be killed by the most powerful Dark Lord of their time? A Dark Lord who wouldn’t want to allow that infant enemy to grow up.

Harry felt a constriction in his chest.

“This was the reason they died,” he blurted out. That thought, though never spoken, had been tormenting Harry’s mind for months; Voldemort killed his parents trying to get to him; he went after them because of him. They had both died because of him.

Remus put his hands on Harry’s shoulders and shook them gently. “None of this is your fault, Harry. They died trying to protect their child, as any loving parent would. Prophecy or no, they would have given their lives to keep you safe.”

“Voldemort never would have gone after them if it hadn’t been for me.”

“Yes, he would. Maybe not then, maybe later, but he would have tried eventually, anyway. Your parents were heavily involved with the Order long before they knew of this prophecy. They believed he had to be stopped, for their own future, for everyone’s future, for your future. They wanted the best for you, Harry; you meant everything to them.”

Harry swiped viciously at his uncooperative eyes before any tears could leak out. “How am I going to do this?”

“With help. You are not alone; you never will be alone. It may be your destiny alone to take him down in the end, but you’ll have a fiercely loyal group of us surrounding you when you do it. Never feel alone, Harry; we all want to be there for you.”

Harry was taken aback by the extent of the passionate emotions shown by his former teacher. He stared at Remus for a moment before stuttering, “I-I think I’m getting b-better at Occlumency.”

His failure to learn under Snape had been Harry’s greatest mistake, and the guilt of it was still nearly all-consuming. Although Ginny’s words had helped him see that he wasn’t entirely to blame, he couldn’t banish that responsibility entirely. If he had just learned to block Voldemort out when he had the chance, Sirius might still be here. He felt suffocated by that thought.

“I know. Dumbledore has told me of your progress. I’m afraid you still may need to let Snape have a go, though.”

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. “What?”

“Snape is a master Legilimens, Harry, and no one has spent more time utilizing it in the presence of Voldemort than Snape. It will be an excellent way to test your proficiency, and you won’t be alone this time. I’ll be in the room with you.”

Harry never wanted to let Snape into his head again, but he’d promised himself that he was going to do everything within his power to see this through. So help him, if this is what it took, so be it. “When?” he asked simply.

Remus seemed surprised by his easy acceptance. “Not yet. You still need more practice with Dumbledore so you won’t be tricked again.”

“Tricked into costing someone else their life,” Harry whispered, visualizing, yet again, Sirius falling through the veil. He could no longer stop the tears from falling, and he didn’t even bother to try. Remus started to reach his arm around Harry’s shoulders but pulled back again before making contact.

He stood up abruptly and began to pace. “You were used, Harry, and I know nothing I say will alleviate what you’re feeling. Si-Sirius would never want you to suffer this way.”

Harry hugged his knees closer to his chest and pressed his face to them. He wished Remus hadn’t pulled away and didn’t know how to get the closeness back. He began to rock back and forth slightly, trying to master himself, but it only seemed to make Remus retreat even further.

“Look, Harry, we can’t have this lesson today. You’re not in the right frame of mind to Apparate; you’ll only end up splinching yourself. Continue to practice the spells you worked on with Tonks, and we’ll try this again next week. Are you going to be okay?”

Harry nodded mutely. In truth, he didn’t know if he was okay, and he was beginning to think this talk had only made things worse. Remus had nearly sprinted from the room, and Harry shakily gathered himself together and made his way back to the dormitory. He’d promised to go flying with Ginny after dinner and put her through her paces for the tryout tomorrow. He didn’t think he’d be able to eat, so he jotted her a quick note telling her to meet him on the Quidditch pitch when she was through. Grabbing his beloved Firebolt, the first gift Sirius had given him, he dragged his heavy heart outside.

Harry hadn’t been on his broomstick since the middle of last year, and, holding it now, he couldn’t help but be reminded of Sirius. This broom had been an anonymous Christmas gift in his third year. Little did Harry know then how out of his control his life was about to spin. He stood on the pitch for a moment, the broom in his hands, just staring at it and letting the memories wash over him.

Mounting the broom, Harry took flight and felt the familiar exhilaration of being in the air. He’d always gotten such a thrill out of flying. There was something wonderfully exhilarating and freeing about being in the air. Harry could be anyone or anything he wanted when he was up there, and the world below ceased to exist, none of it mattering for a little while. As he swooped and dove through the air, his mind replayed the conversation with Remus.

Sirius had known of the prophecy, too, and never told him. When Sirius had mentioned a weapon that Voldemort wanted last year, they had all assumed it was something hidden at Hogwarts. It struck him how right they were; he was that weapon . And Sirius had known it all along. He couldn’t help that it felt like a betrayal, but he didn’t want to be angry with Sirius. He couldn’t be angry with him. But he was. He was angry that he’d left him . ‘How could you leave me ?’ he railed at the sky. ‘ I need you .’

He knew it was childish to feel angry; it wasn’t like Sirius had planned on dying. Hell, it was Harry’s own fault. But he also couldn’t help that he felt abandoned, again . He remembered feeling this way as a child on Privet Drive; alone, unwanted, unloved. He’d thought his parents had died in a car accident then. They’d left him to rot with the Dursleys and sometimes, just sometimes, in the darkness of his cupboard, he’d rail at them for abandoning him. He hadn’t been that lonely little boy in a long time, but, somehow, knowing that it didn’t make any sense to feel that way wasn’t helping him now.

Harry continued to zoom around the pitch, letting the wind dry the tears he couldn’t stop. For someone who prided himself on never giving in to them, these days Harry couldn’t seem to stop them. He’d opened the floodgates that night with Ginny, and now it seemed anything could set him off. He had no idea how long he’d been out there flying from one end of the pitch to the other, but eventually he noticed Ginny sitting in the stands, her broomstick lying across her legs. He flew down to where she was and took the seat next to her. “You made it.”

Ginny looked at his profile. He kept his eyes guarded, and she knew he was upset. “Yeah. We missed you at dinner.”

Harry didn’t reply. “What would you like to do?”

“I dunno. Feel like playing Keeper and seeing if I can get this by you?” she asked, tossing a Quaffle in the air.

“Okay. I’m not very good at playing Keeper, though. You probably should have asked Ron.”

“NO!” Ginny seemed startled. “I don’t want him to know I’m out here. Besides, I don’t think he’d help me anyway. Can’t have the team captain playing favorites and all.”

“Then it’s just you and me. Come on.”

Ginny followed him out, and they spent some time tossing the Quaffle. Harry was right - he wasn’t a very good Keeper - and Ginny had no problem scoring on him.

“If Ron would just put you in tomorrow, I’m sure I’d have no problem making the team,” she said, laughing.

Harry turned on her in mock seriousness. “Are you suggesting I’m not up to the task?”

“Are you suggesting you are?”

“Only if we’re playing a team who hasn’t yet reached school age,” he said, laughing outright for the first time that day.

“And who don’t have brooms. Even then, I wouldn’t guarantee your chances.”

Harry thought maybe he ought to be offended. “Hey!”

Ginny just laughed and began racing toward the Quidditch shed. “Last one there has to put the equipment away,” she called. She was nearly there when she finished the sentence, and Harry’s competitive spirit kicked in. Lying flat against his broom until they were nearly one, he forced it forward. The superior broom caught up to her with relative ease, and they reached the door together.

“Not bad, Potter, not bad at all. I guess it’s just the Keeper spot that doesn’t suit you.”

“Looks like we’re both putting this stuff away then, eh?”

Ginny smiled and nodded at him, her cheeks flushed pink with exhilaration and the cool night air. Harry thought she looked amazingly pretty. “Thanks, Gin.”

“For what?” she asked, her eyes twinkling merrily.

“I needed some fun today.”

“Pleased to be of service, sir,” she replied. Then, laughing, they took each other’s hands and made their way up to the castle, neither letting go until they reached the heavy double doors of the castle.

*******

The next morning, it was Ron who woke Harry up bright and early. Harry had been having a peaceful night and wasn’t thrilled to be awoken just yet.

“Come on,” Ron said, shaking his shoulder roughly. “Out of that bed and down to breakfast in fifteen, Potter.”

Harry clamped the pillow over his head. “I don’t wanna,” he whined.

Ron ripped the pillow from his hands and threw it across the room. “Move.”

Harry climbed out of bed, glaring at Ron. “Maybe you’re paying more attention in Divination than you think, because I swear you’re channeling Oliver Wood right now.”

Ron puffed up like a peacock, taking Harry’s words as a compliment rather than an insult. “Let’s hope we can build a team as good as his, then.”

The boys made their way down to the Great Hall, where Hermione was already sitting with her nose in a book. “Morning,” they said.

“Looks like you have a good day for tryouts. I saw a bunch of people already heading down to the pitch. Ginny went with them.”

“Are you coming to watch?” Ron asked.

“Of course,” answered Hermione as the two leaned in to share a morning kiss.

Harry quickly turned his gaze the other way and grabbed a slice of toast and a few pieces of bacon. “I’ll see you there, mate.”

He was happy for Ron and Hermione and pleased that their new relationship seemed to stop a lot of their bickering, but it still made him uncomfortable to watch them kiss. He also realized that it wasn’t just Ron and Hermione, it was anyone. Neither of the Dursleys had ever been overly affectionate with each other (thank Merlin for small favors), and they’d certainly never shown the least amount of it to him. Harry found he was just very uncomfortable with any kind of public displays of affection and tended to make himself scarce when they began.

Harry joined Katie Bell, Andrew Kirke, and Jack Sloper already on the pitch. He could see Ginny queued with the other candidates, and he smiled to her. She gave him a thumbs up. The team members had started queuing the prospects before he arrived, so he told each of them to watch for people they thought would be good in their own positions. Ron hoped to get a full reserve team out of the lot, as well. Harry looked over the line; there were a lot of people trying out, maybe they’d get lucky. He was proud of the Gryffindors; from the looks of it, Ron hadn’t scared a lot of people off with his rabid enthusiasm.

Harry took off and took his place high above the pitch. He stopped and watched as Ginny successfully scored against Ron for the second time. Watching Ron’s ears redden, Harry couldn’t help cheering her on. Harry noticed the little first year Ron had pointed out at the Welcome Feast; Tracy Bennett was her name. She was small, but quick, and seemed to be a natural in the air. She’d make a good reserve and possibly be ready to take over Katie’s position next year. When Ron finally called for a team huddle, Harry flew down to join them.

“Well, what do we all think?” Ron asked.

Katie answered first. “Ginny for sure.” Andrew, Jack, and Harry all nodded, while Ron grinned. “Good, then I won’t be getting a Howler from Mum.”

“And I get to keep my spot.” Harry exclaimed, pretending to wipe his brow.

Ron looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if Ginny didn’t become Chaser, technically she’s the first-team Seeker. I’d have to take the reserve spot.”

Ron paled; that had obviously never even been one of his considerations. “Okay, Ginny is one, what about the other?”

Again, Katie answered. “I think Holly Proctor is the best choice.” Holly was a third year with a long blonde ponytail and an innocent looking face. She was super fast and, after Ginny, scored the most points.

“What about the reserves?” asked Ron.

“Dennis Creevey for a Beater spot—” said Jack.

“Tracy Bennett could work as a Chaser,” said Harry, “with Ginny as Seeker—”

“Patrick Nelson for Keeper—” said Katie. All spoke at the same time.

“Okay,” answered Ron. “Tracy Bennett is only a first year, but since she’s just on the reserves, we don’t really need to worry about her getting her own broom. Listen up,” he yelled to all the candidates. “In the two open Chaser positions, we have Ginny Weasley and Holly Proctor. For a reserve Chaser – Tracy Bennett; reserve Keeper – Patrick Nelson; reserve Beater – Dennis Creevey; and reserve Seeker – Ginny Weasley. The rest of you…thanks very much for trying out.”

Several disappointed faces made their way back to the castle, while an excited Ginny wrapped her arms around her brother’s neck and pecked him on the cheek. “I knew you’d make the right decision, brother dear.”

Ron blushed but hugged her back. “Easy choice, Gin; you earned your spot.”

Ginny beamed with pleasure as Hermione joined them on the pitch.

“Nice work, Ginny, congratulations.”

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“Okay, team, first practice is tomorrow. I’ve reserved the pitch for two hours right after lunch,” Ron announced as they broke for the day. Harry was happy he was going to be getting back into the routine of Quidditch practices. He hoped the upcoming DA meeting would turn out just as well.

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A/N: Please R/R and let me know! I know I have Harry emotional again but I still feel its part of his growing process. He’s slowly learning to let people in. Next chapter talks a bit more about that…

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