As James scored goal after goal, the crowd cheered. Gryffindor was winning, of course. He heard the faint hum of a chant begin.
"Bring the lion out! Bring the, bring the lion out!"
Every house except for Slytherin was chanting.
It was his chant. Not Gryffindor's. His. And he earned it. He knew he had. So he let the wind whip past his ears as he made every goal, zipping past the keepers. He winked at the crowd when he was close enough.
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McGonagall knew Harry would be a great player. I mean, look at his father. The star chaser for 6 years. But for Harry to be the youngest seeker in a century? And one of the best? She didn't expect that.
As Harry zipped through the air, nearly falling once or twice, he saw a fleck of gold right in front of him.
McGonagall got an idea. She whispered over to Sprout and Dumbledore. They began the chant quietly, hoping for the students to hear.
"Bring the lion out! Bring the, bring the lion out!"
Hermione and Ron heard first and began chanting with them.
"Bring the lion out! Bring the, bring the lion out!"
Soon enough all of Gryffindor was chanting. A few Slytherins joined, as well as all of Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw was the opposing team, so of course they didn't.
Harry flew through the air, nearly hitting one of the keepers. He lost sight of the snitch.
He heard the chant as it picked up volume and assumed it was for Gryffindor until he realized everyone was looking at him.
Everyone and their mother knew that the chant was James Potter's. Everyone but Harry.
He saw the snitch again and flew towards it, barely able to grasp it. He wrapped his fingers around it tightly and whipped his hand into the air. The crowd cheered loudly, the chant still going.
It was his chant now.
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Voldemort was dead. Gone. His body lay out in the courtyard where people were kicking it and throwing curses at him. It was their right to hurt him after everything he had done after all.
Harry was tired. He just wanted to sleep for eternity, but he knew he had to face the music soon enough. First though, he needed a nap.
He stalked up to the Gryffindor dorms before realizing he didn't have a bed anymore. He looked around the boy's dorm room and saw that one of the beds was empty, no trunk, no blankets, nothing. His old bed.
He collapsed onto it, sighing heavily. Home.
A couple hours passed and Harry woke up. He needed something to eat.
Harry walked down to the Great Hall, forgetting what it was used for.
The loud chatter stopped. It was silent. And then applause rained through the enormous room. He smiled and ducked his head, hating the attention.
But then he heard it. The Weasleys started it and it picked up, booming through the cafeteria.
"Bring the lion out! Bring the, bring the lion out!"
