Whispers of a Raven by TheBlack'sResurgence

Chapter 11

November 3rd, 1975 (3 months later)

Playing quidditch was not something he realised he had missed so much until he found himself in the air, once more training amongst a full team. From the adrenaline burst of pursuing a fleeing snitch to interrupting a play, and simply sharing his passion with others; he had missed it all.

It had been odd and rather sobering not playing with the likes of the Weasley twins, the three Gryffindor chasers and Oliver Wood, but he would not allow their absence to dampen the experience of being on the pitch again.

Here, he felt liberated, could escape everything else that was happening in his life and just enjoy something for what it was.

It had simply been by chance that he had come upon the notice asking for any prospective players to try out for a new team that was being formed. He had been passing through The Leaky Cauldron on one of his rare visits into Diagon Alley to stock up on his supplies when the unusually green parchment pinned to a board next to the bar caught his eye.

The word 'Quidditch' had been written in thick, gold letters and the rest had become history. After only ten minutes on his broom in front of the coach, he was the new seeker for the Hemel Harriers.

The team had no sponsors, would be in the lowest quidditch division and trained on a public pitch. However, no one had balked at his name and that sealed the deal for him.

The green and gold kit had initially put him off with it being like that of the Slytherin team, but he realised that such a trivial thing did not matter. He had left Hogwarts behind many years ago and refused to be held back by former grudges that were rather stupid on reflection.

No, despite not getting paid and the long training sessions, he was very content with this undertaking. Playing the sport that he loved was bringing him happiness, something he had not felt for too long.

"Another five minutes, Peverell, and I'll release the snitch," Jason Barnes, the team coach called up to him.

In many ways, Jason was similar to Oliver, just as fanatical about Quidditch but without the pressure of the entire Gryffindor house relying on him to lead them to victory.

Jason had been a keeper for a lower league team until an injury forced him to retire two years prior. Instead of moping around, he had begun the process of forming his own team, and here he was, doing just what he set out to do.

Harry nodded and readied himself.

It had become quickly evident as to why no one recognised his name when he had joined the team. Jason was a muggleborn who'd never had anything to do with the pureblood circles and the rest of the players were of a similar position; either a muggleborn or, as he suspected of one of the beaters, a half-blood like him.

Regardless, none had given any indication that they knew who he was. Perhaps the news of what had happened between him and Bellatrix had yet trickled its way down to them yet?

If they didn't spend much time in the wizarding world, it may have slipped past them, either way, everyone else seemed to have learned about it over the past couple of months.

That's the reason Harry told himself that he had kept himself to himself for the most part. Having endured the stares, whispers and questions for but a day, he had withdrawn to the privacy of his tent, hoping it would blow over.