Everything Remains

Chapter 6- As Close to Normalcy as We'll Get

A few weeks have passed into the semester. The trio especially were enjoying the normalcy of being a student again, with no dark wizards constantly coming after them. They went to classes, did their homework, hung out in the common room, all regular things that they should have been allotted from day one. It was necessary and felt good, but also a little eerie. Nothing was happening? No one was plotting? It just doesn't seem real. 

Fall began to slowly creep in. The air was a little crisper. The leaves on the trees were losing their tips to orange, red, and yellows. The wind was more of a consistent friend rather than an occasional visitor. 
Harry and Draco had continued to check in with each other every so often. After the initial shock of being back at Hogwarts with the "saviors" and the "villains," people calmed down and focused on their own lives. The animosity they were offered was a refreshing change, welcomed whole-heartedly. 

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were hanging out in the Gryffindor common room one Thursday afternoon. Hermione's nose in a textbook, Neville attending to the ten different plants he had spread around the room (without asking anyone, by the way), and Ron and Harry playing wizard's chess. The room was cozy with the fire going in the fire place, paper cranes enchanted to fly about the room, and the gentle chatter from the students. 
"Bloody hell, Harry. That's the fifth game you've lost. Get it together!"
"We can't all be chess masters like you, Ron." Harry laughed heartily, feeling content. 
An owl flew into the common room from the corridor, dropping a letter onto the chess board. It was addressed to Harry, Hermione, and Ron all together. 
"Wha? Let me see." Ron immediately opened it, confused about what it could be. 
'Dear trio, I was hoping to hear back from you about our after-class workshops that I proposed. Would you mind writing me back and letting me know what you've decided? ~Prof. Galos'

"Merlin, he's not going to let this go is he?" Ron tossed the letter and envelope back onto the chess table. 
"Well, it has been a while since we first talked about it. He deserves a response either way. What do you want to do?" Hermione put her book down, invested in this task at hand. 
"You already know I don't want to do it, 'Mione. But I'm guessing, since I know you and all, that you're going to make us do it anyways. So we might as well just say yes and avoid the lectures." "Feeling a little angsty today Ron?" Harry laughed again, picking up the letter. 
"I mean, we might as well do it. It will be good practice and Merlin forbid if anything like the war happens again, we will have a lot more people prepared that can join ranks."
"Finally. After 8 years, you just listen to me." Hermione smiled deviously, putting her face back into her book. 
Harry summoned a quill and scribbled on the back of the letter. "We'll do it. When do we start?" before attaching it to the waiting owl's leg and sending him off. 

"Boys. Are you going to try out for Quidditch tomorrow?" Ginny had appeared out of nowhere, startling the trio. 
"Oi, Ginny. What business do you have sneaking about like that." Ron shook his head in disbelief. 
"What do you mean, tryout? Couldn't we just have our spots back?" Harry looked at her, confused. 
"During last year, they had to replace your positions with new students. So you would have to try out again, and beat them." 
"So while the whole castle was preparing for a war, you all still did Quidditch? Some of yous need to sort out your priorities." Ron scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all. 
"It was the only respite that some people had, you git. Now are you going to try out or not?" 
"I... suppose so. Nothing like ending my years at school with Quidditch, right? What time is it?"
"After classes, around 5 pm. Bring my stupid brother with you, will ya?" Ginny asked before turning and leaving as quickly as she had appeared. 
"I'll say it again. Why do normal rules apply to us when we've saved the world more times than anyone can count?" Ron rolled his eyes.
"Blimey, Ron. Are you letting your celebrity status get to your head?" Harry shoved Ron's shoulder, teasing him. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was Friday afternoon, right before the Quidditch tryouts for Gryffindor. Followed by tryouts for Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and finally Ravenclaw. 
Harry was in his dorm room, putting on training gear and preparing to get his broom out from his trunk. Although it was a pain to go through tryouts again, his stomach was still fluttering with excitement. Nothing came close to the experience of flying for him. He hadn't ridden his broom in months either. Not being able to use it almost all of last year really pained him too. Flying was his escape; literally and figuratively. Any time he needed to clear his head, he would jump on and fly away. 
He had just lifted his firebolt from the trunk, feeling the smooth wood and inhaling the scent, bringing back so many memories. Suddenly, an owl flew through the room and dropped a bit of parchment on his bed. 
Harry unrolled it to read. 'Good luck today Harry". Harry noticed that there was a Pot written but crossed out. Old habits die hard. Harry knew by the handwriting that it was from Draco. Pleasantly surprised at the gesture, Harry smiled and put the small bit of parchment in his boot for good luck. 

Harry grabbed his stuff and then headed to the common room to find Ron napping on the couch. "Oi. Ron. RONALD. We've got to go!" Harry shouted, his hands full. 
"Oh alright, alright! No need to yell." Ron picked up his bag and broom and followed Harry out the corridor and headed towards the Quidditch pitch. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When they got there, they looked up in the stands to see the on-lookers. Hermione was there of course, to cheer them on. Luna Lovegood sat with her, her enormous lion-head hat standing out in the distance. There were a few other Gryffindors scattered about the stands from various years. Harry noticed in the far back corner, there was a familiar ice-blonde head in the stands. 
'Draco came to watch? Is this real?' Harry was shocked to see him there, supporting him. They of course were no longer enemies, but for him to show up and support him was definitely a different level of friendship they haven't gotten to before now. 

The potential players lined up on the pitch, waiting to hear instructions from Ginny. Ginny was now the Quidditch captain, and she was amazing at it. She had built a solid team while Harry, Ron, and the other players were away from school. But she knew she wanted them back on the team. Their talent has been unmatched so far. 
"LISTEN UP. We are going to start a scrimmage. Potential players will be playing against the existing team. You will be evaluated on skill, speed, technique, and if you win or not and why. Is that clear?" Ginny commanded with her voice.
Harry looked over at the established team. He didn't recognize most of them, assuming they were younger years. Harry glanced at Ron, notably yawning and looking disinterested. 
"Ron, can you get it together? I don't want to be on the team without you, mate." 
"Well, if it wasn't so bloody late at night..."
"..It's 5 pm?"
"Whatever. Let's get this over with."
Ron, Harry, and the other prospective players gathered in their "team" to come up with a game plan. 
Harry took the lead, assuming he has the most experiencing playing Quidditch.

"Alright. We've got some advantages, because Ginny isn't playing. I don't know much about the other players, but myself and Ron have plenty of time under our belts. How long have all of you played?"
It was a mixed bag of answers. The two trying out for beater have been playing for 5 years, although not on an official team. The three trying out for chasers were just in their 3rd year at Hogwarts. It wasn't a great prognosis, but they have to do what they can with what they have. 
Harry devised a plan and made sure everyone understood before explaining his and Ron's roles. 
"Oi, we've seen you play! You are both very good. We were wondering why they didn't just let you on automatically?"
"Technicalities, but it's fine." Harry shot Ron a knowing look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

Ginny blew the whistle to get everyone's attention and they all hopped onto their brooms and got into position.
"May the best players... WIN!" Ginny blew the whistle again and flicked her wand to release the quaffle, bludgers, and snitch into the air.
The game commenced, with the existing team having the advantage of already having played together for a year.
Harry concentrated and began to look around the stadium for a glint of gold. He began a steady pace around the perimeter of the stands, searching as hard as he could. 

Suddenly, he saw the flash of gold, heading upwards into the sky. Harry leaned in as close as he could to his broom to give himself the least resistance against the climb into the clouds. He was going fast, but not as fast as he could, to make sure that he didn't pass up the snitch. He locked eyes with the snitch and started his pursuit.

After a few minutes, Harry noticed that he was being followed by the established team seeker. He glanced backwards briefly to see his competition. The boy couldn't be older than 15, with honey-brown hair and an intense look upon his face. Harry re-focused, connecting eyes with the snitch again. The snitch began to descend quickly, heading straight downwards. Harry dipped his broom, leaning into it to go as fast as he could. The boy followed him, gaining speed. Harry reached out to begin the process of catching and holding onto the snitch. He was about 3 feet from the snitch, which had teetered out and was coasting along the bottom rung of seats.

Harry was mere inches from grabbing onto the snitch when his whole body seized up. He couldn't move, he could barely breathe, his body wasn't responding to any movement he was trying to do. 'What the FUCK is happening???'
Harry noticed that while he was seized up, he couldn't move his broom, guide it, or keep a grasp on it with his legs. He was completely and purely immovable.
Harry looked around rapidly, hoping someone could see that he was in trouble. 

Harry's grip began to slip; his broom was slipping out of his hand hold and moving in the opposite direction. Without the ability to grab the broom or to grip on with his thighs, his broom jutted out from underneath him, leaving him free-falling to the ground below. Harry had no choice but to watch himself fall down the 40 or so feet to the ground...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX