What if...

Quidditch

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, thinking about the events that had transpired so far.

Harry Potter was definitely the best student in most classes- only Miss Granger could beat him in anything. Well, besides Herbology. Mister Longbottom had quite the natural talent qhen it came to the study of magical plants. Harry had successfully fought a fully-grown mountain troll and survived. He could non-verbally perform a spell three years ahead of his current learning stage. He was definitely ready to face Voldemort for the second time.

Now, the bad news.

The Weasleys had been a complete failure. All Albus had asked them to do was to locate Harry Potter and assist him with entering the platform. Then, young Harry would most likely look to the Weasleys as a surrogate family, which was crucial for the Greater Good. Ronald had completely failed in filling the role of Harry's best friend- that position was now taken by Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom.

However, Harry had been getting along with Fred and George, who were also Weasleys. And young Harry's inclusion on the quidditch team might just play to Albus' advantage.

Perhaps the Greater Good could still happen, after all.

...............................................................

"Well then why aren't there just seven Seekers?" Hermione asked. Harry had been trying to explain Quidditch to Hermione for the fifth time.

"Because then it wouldn't be any fun to watch." Harry explained.
"Oh yeah." Hermione said, sounding sheepish.

"It's alright, I thought the same thing too." Harry lied. Hermione smiled at him.
Neville glanced to his side and decided to ignore the fact that his two best friends were staring at each other, and instead to check that Trevor was still in his pocket, then to dig into a large english breakfast.

Harry's first match of quidditch was today, and Hermione was now egging him to try some food. (See what I did there?)

"Harry, you've got to eat something. Seekers need their strength!" Hermione shoved a plate with a piece of toast in front of him and piled it with bacon. Harry reluctantly shoved it in his mouth and turned back to Hermione.

"I'm gonna make a fool of myself." Harry deadpanned. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Harry, we've already talked about this, remember? Your dad was a quidditch player, so I don't see why you can't be just as good, if not better!" Hermione said shrilly. Harry froze in fear for a half-second, then let the corners of his mouth turn upwards.

"Thanks, Hermione, you're brilliant." Harry praised as he dove for a pile of sausages, not noticing Hermione blush slightly as she smiled at her plate for no reason.

"Oh, Hermione, I didn't know you found hash browns so appealing." Neville said, genuinely surprised. Hermione blushed further.

"I just- they taste really nice, ok?" She answered agitatedly. Neville backed off.
Hermione leaned in towards him.

"I'm sorry, it's just-" She started whispering now. "-I'm scared for him. He's my first friend, I don't want to lose him so soon." She finished. Neville unexpectedly laughed.

"Hermione, no one's died in quidditch for ages! There's no chance of him being in any danger, besides if he get's h-hit by a b-bludger." Neville said, glad he wasn't on the team with Harry. Hermione seemed to relax.

"Harry Potter, if you get hurt, I'm going to kill you!" Hermione threatened. Harry looked up from his plate in shock. Neville chuckled, then froze as Hermione turned on him.

"Relax, I'll be fine." Harry said carelessly. Hermione huffed and dug into her hash browns.

Eventually, Harry had to stop shoving food in his mouth and travelled to the quidditch pitch. He got changed into his kit, then got his new broom that Professor McGonagall had secretly (or not so secretly) given him the previous week.