Salchows and Serendipity (Harry Potter/Winter Olympics Xover)

2. Johnny Weir

When he had regressed himself to just under eleven Harry had never expected to end up where he was now. James Black had gone back to school in the Muggle world and pretended to be a normal little boy. When he needed parents, he had hired some from a very discrete agency who didn't ask questions, but by the time he had hit fourteen that had been moot and he pretended to be an emancipated minor.

He had been twenty two in the body of a twelve year old when he had discovered ice skating. It was as close to flying as he had been able to get without pulling out his broom. Being hidden he had to be very careful about his interactions with the Wizarding world and so flying with anyone else was out.

With makeup to hide his scar, contact lenses instead of glasses and a cut and dye job on his hair to change it completely, he had entered his first competition at the physical age of thirteen. He had never looked back. Now, in the body of a twenty-year-old and with the mind of a twenty-nine-year old, he was actually at the Olympics. It was amazing and the only danger to his person was that which he and all the other skaters risked when they tried to pull off a quad jump.

He did have a quad in his arsenal, but he wasn't about to use it in competition unless he wanted a fifty-fifty chance of ending on his arse. This time he wasn't a medal contender, but he was doing well, and he was enjoying life to the full. Being rampantly bi-sexual was one of the things he was really having fun with.

Reliving his teenage years with a much more mature mind had been an eye-opening experience and he might have, possibly, started having sex at what looked like a rather young age. At fourteen on the outside, with his hormones going mental and an adult mind to help along his fantasies, he had leapt into sex with both feet. She had been seventeen and thought he was cute and almost sixteen, and had been very happy to pop his cherry for the second time, as it were. Then at fifteen he had discovered boys and he had realised he had discovered his second favourite thing next to skating.

He hadn't really believed it when his teammates who had been to the Olympics before had told him that getting laid in the Olympic village was about as easy as ordering lunch. Harry hadn't actually slept with anyone yet because he wanted his mind firmly on the competition, but he had been propositioned several times and he had every intention of taking someone up on an offer the moment his discipline was over. For now, all he wanted to do was get in some practice and make sure that when he stepped onto the ice, he didn't make a complete idiot of himself.

The first thing he had to do was find his way to the right rink. He was all turned around and had no idea where he was supposed to be. He had a map in his hand, his bag over his shoulder and he had about five minutes to find the right place before his coach would start yelling at him. He really didn't want that on his first day on the ice in Vancouver. The problem was, he was so intent on the map that he wasn't really looking where he was going and walked slap bang into someone.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," he said instantly, reaching out to grab the person he had almost knocked flying to steady them.

He still had Seeker reflexes and he was quick enough to not only stop the person falling, but the catch the sunglasses he had managed to dislodge off the person's face. It was only as he handed them back and finally actually looked at the man, he had accidentally assaulted that his mouth went dry and his thoughts came to a grinding halt.

Looking back at him was Johnny Weir.

Normally Harry didn't do star struck; he had spent so long as a child with people fawning over him that he refused to do it to others, but Johnny Weir was the exception to the rule. Johnny Weir was possibly the exception to every rule. Harry admired many skaters, but Johnny was his idol. The man strove for individuality and had a grace on the ice that Harry only dreamed of having.