Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling et al. Any characters or locations you recognise are the intellectual property of these individuals and corporations. I make no money from the writing of this story.

TycheSong said she should 'someday write a fic where Harry goes pro Quidditch. It always bugged me that he didn't in canon considering how much was made out of his broom abilities (including by an international Quidditch star). Not to mention you'd think the last occupation he'd want would be an Auror/law enforcement after the carnage and damage he would have witnessed in the Battle of Hogwarts and how much running around and almost dying (and actually dying) he did as a teenager in general...' We got to talking and I took up the challenge.

I hope you enjoy it :)

..o-O—^—O-o..

Harry Potter – Pro-Quidditch Player

"Welcome back to Quidditch Capers, the radio show in the know, bringing you the week's top stories, all the news about your favourite teams and the latest scores from around the world. I'm your host for the show, Lee Jordan. For our final segment this week, as promised, we have a special guest for you. We're here in the studio today with Caerphilly Catapults' Star Seeker, Harry Potter, fresh from winning the British and Irish League Championship for the second year in a row, taking out the European Cup Final and the newest member of the England National Team named as Seeker for the upcoming World Cup in France. Mr Potter, welcome to the show."

"Thank you, Lee, it's good to be here."

"Mr Potter, may I call you Harry?"

"We were housemates at Hogwarts, Lee, you calling me 'Mr Potter' frankly sounds ridiculous."

"Hahaha, yes, frankly it feels ridiculous to say it, but it's all part of the job. Harry, let's get straight down to the nitty gritty, why Quidditch?"

"Well, Lee, it is the best sport there is."

"Yes, but let's be honest, you're Harry Potter."

"Thank you, I am aware."

"Without the sarcasm… After your famous, total defeat of the Former-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-But-Now-We-Don't-Care, Voldemort, it was thought, expected even, that you would head straight into the Auror Corps—no waiting, no scrutiny, just turn up for training. So, what happened there?"

"I'll be honest with you and your listeners, Lee, that was thought and expected, even by me, and the Auror Corps did offer me that exact opportunity—along with most of the other departments in the Ministry. But I wanted to do something for me for a change. I'd had enough of chasing after and fighting Dark Wizards, I wanted to do something a little less life-threatening."

"Yes, because none of us have ever seen your lovely wife scream at you for a harebrained stunt that you pulled going after a Snitch."

"Without the sarcasm…"

'Touché, but let's back up just a moment. You said that most of the other departments in the Ministry offered you work as well. What opportunities did you have, and what made you decide to go with Quidditch?"

..o-O—^—O-o..

"What do you have in today's offerings, Harry?" Hermione Granger asked as she flipped through her own post.

"Aurors again, Department of Mysteries again, Muggle Relations… again, Luna… Wizengamot? That's a new one," Harry Potter replied, rifling through the envelopes in his hand as he read out the senders. He dropped them all on the table bar the one from the Wizengamot and turned it over, breaking the heavy wax seal.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked interestedly.

"Dear Mr Potter," Harry read out. "It has come to our attention that you are now the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and as such, we invite you to take up your seat on the Wizengamot. The first meeting of the summer session will be June 1st at eight a.m. Please present yourself to Mr Percival Weasley in the Wizengamot Administration Office no later than seven a.m. on this date for orientation and briefing."

Hermione scoffed. "Well, you have been told," she said sarcastically.

"They can bite me!" Harry declared. "Like I'm going to 'present myself' to Percy of all people and have that sanctimonious bast—"

"Language, Harry," Hermione warned.

"Former Head Boy," Harry corrected himself, although he loaded the words with enough venom to make them sound like an insult, "lecture me on how to conduct myself and sit in the Wizengamot like a good little boy!"

"Harry, you get these letters every day from the various Departments and businesses, why are you having such a tough time making a decision? I thought you wanted to be an Auror," Hermione said.

Harry sighed. "Hermione, I have had enough of chasing after Dark Wizards and Death Eaters. I really don't want to keep doing it just because everyone expects me to. All these letters I get every day tell me what I should do and when I should present myself. Not one of them has offered me a job nor has anyone asked me what I wanted to do. They all just tell me what date and time to show up and bam, I'll have whatever job's available just so they can say they have Harry Potter working for them."

Hermione patted his hand sympathetically. "I know, Harry, I'm getting the same treatment. Ron said he and Neville have accepted spots in the Aurors. Why don't you just go there for now with them while you decide what it is you really want to do?"

"Because I know what will happen. First will be training, then field work. Before I know it I'll be leading a team and training the new recruits and one day I'll find myself sitting behind a desk as Head Auror and not quite knowing how I managed to get there. I want to work and work hard, but I want the job because I earned it and I want whatever position I end up with because I worked hard for it and deserved to be promoted," Harry said passionately.

Hermione smiled at his declaration. It was so like Harry not to want a handout. "Well you know I'm going back to Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall has just confirmed she is letting me attend as a day student so I don't have to board," she held up a letter as she told him this. "Maybe you could do that as well," she suggested.

Harry shook his head. "I-I can't, Hermione," he said, his voice cracking a little. "I can't go back there after—" he abruptly broke off and turned his head. Hermione knew it was to hide the unbidden tears that had gathered in his eyes. She rose from her chair and crouched beside him, putting her arms around him and gently kissing the top of his head.

"I know, Harry, it was just a suggestion, I won't bring it up again," she promised. Harry clutched at her arms, drawing the strength he needed from her embrace to compose himself. Once she heard his breathing become regulated and he relaxed his hold a little bit she said light-heartedly, "Do what everyone our age usually has to do to find a job." She picked up The Daily Prophet from the middle of the table and handed it to him. "Check the employment listings."

Harry laughed and took the newspaper. Hermione resumed flicking through her mail. Humouring her, he picked up a self-inking quill from the table and turned to the classifieds section. A couple of ads immediately caught his eye and he circled them. There was an ad for specialised tutors—DADA and flying were listed among the subjects so he knew he would have no trouble, look how Dumbledore's Army had comported themselves during the recent battle, and if he could teach Hermione how to fly a broomstick, he could teach anyone. He circled another for a shop clerk at Quality Quidditch Supplies. His quill hovered over an ad for a curse-breaker at Gringotts Bank, but he knew the goblins would never hire him. At the moment he felt that simply getting out of the bank intact after visiting his vault was a major feat. The goblins had not forgiven them for breaking in and escaping on one of their dragons even though Harry had paid for all the damages.

An ad in the bottom corner of the page caught his eye. Leaning closer he read:

QUIDDITCH PLAYERS – OPEN SEEKER TRYOUTS – CAERPHILLY CATAPULTS

Come one, come all to the open Seeker tryouts to be held at Ellis Moor Stadium, Caerphilly District, Wales, on June 30th, 1998 at 10am sharp. All prospective players must provide their own equipment (broomstick and protective gear). Please be on the field by 9am for registration and initial briefing.

He circled it several times. 'Pro-Quidditch player,' he thought. A sparkle entered his eye as he thought of all the games he had played at Hogwarts, the training sessions, the strategy meetings, scoping out the opposition players… they were truly the happiest times Harry could remember at Hogwarts. He was the youngest Seeker in a century after all, and only once, in all the games he had played at Hogwarts, had he ever failed to catch the Snitch. Somehow having a run-in with a hundred Dementors had put him off his game. Even when they played two-a-side in the Weasleys' backyard he always triumphed. He knew this because on the occasions he didn't it was because he had done so on purpose. Plus he always had Hermione on his team because he was so good and she was so hopeless that they evened out the two good Weasley players in Ron and Ginny. If he was on a team with either of them they would have annihilated the opposition every time.

The sound of the quill vigorously circling drew Hermione's attention. "What do you have?" she asked. Harry read the ad out to her. "Harry, how long is the career span of a Quidditch player?"

"There are guys in the Canons who are over forty," Harry told her.

"What about this team, the Caerphilly Catapults?" she asked.

"I don't know much about them. They are always in the middle of the table it seems, in recent years they have always either just made it or just missed out on the finals," he replied.

"I've never heard of them," Hermione stated.

"If I get on their team you'll hear all about them," Harry said cheekily.

"If you get on their team then they will be my favourites," Hermione declared loyally. "But what about after Quidditch? You need something to fall back on."

"Well, there is always the option of learning how the club works from the inside, then when I get too old or too injured to play I can be a coach or an administrator of some kind."

"Don't talk about getting too injured," Hermione said with a frown. "It's hard enough to watch you play that sport without that image in my brain." Kneeling on the floor beside his chair, she put her arms around him again and cuddled into his side. Harry held her and dropped a kiss on top of her head, similar to the one she had bestowed on him earlier.

"Alright, I will retire as the oldest player ever in the Professional Leagues and not for any other reason," he vowed. "But you're right about having something to fall back on."

"Maybe you could play and study for your NEWTs in your spare time," Hermione suggested. "There is nothing that states when you have to complete your NEWTs; just that you have them for certain jobs. You could probably do your Defence one tomorrow with no problems and I could help you with a correspondence course for your other subjects," she said excitedly. "Even if you just do one or two subjects a year for a few years it would be like going to Muggle night school and getting a degree."

"And with you as a tutor, how could I fail?" he asked light-heartedly.

"Harry, I know this is what you want to do and believe me, I really think you are in with a chance, I mean, even Viktor has said you are good on a broom and if an international player like him is praising you like that—"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, "your point?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "But if you show up there they are just going to say, 'Harry Potter, welcome to the team!' You won't even have to get on your broom," Hermione predicted.

Harry's face fell slightly. "You're right. I can't take Polyjuice either, who knows how long I'll be out there. I guess I'll have to cast a glamour or something."

Hermione thought that Harry would have great difficulty maintaining a glamour charm while under the pressure of a Quidditch tryout. And he was right about the Polyjuice potion—without knowing exactly when he would have to top up his doses he could easily be in the middle of the tryout when he reverted to his regular form. She would have to think about it some more.

..o-O—^—O-o..

"And of course you famously tried out under an assumed identity at those open tryouts, blowing away the competition in the process, I might add."

"Everyone who showed up there that day was in with a chance, Lee. There were some brilliant players on the field—Paula Eastman who is now with the Holyhead Harpies, Tony Bright who was just re-signed to the Ballycastle Bats, Ronan Bryers, the Reserve Seeker on the national side, as well as Michelle Maxwell who we all know—"

"Yes, yes, Michelle Maxwell of the Falmouth Falcons who has just returned from a stint in the Australian season with the Thundelarra Thunderers. All great players, Harry, you are right, but none of them holding a candle to you."

"We'll have to agree to disagree."

"Humble as always, you know you were the same when you were eleven."

"I am consistent. Lee is rolling his eyes at me, listeners."

"How did you manage to go through an entire day of tryouts without dropping your glamour charms, Harry? I mean, obviously we all know you are a powerful wizard, but the concentration that must have taken is mind-boggling."

"There were no charms, Lee. I might be good but even I am not that good. Like most things in my life, the idea was born in the brilliant brain of my beautiful wife."

..o-O—^—O-o..

Two days before the tryouts, Harry was sitting in the library at Grimmauld Place, going over some old Quidditch play-books that he used to use when Oliver Wood was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He knew that he had to be prepared for this tryout, which had come up quickly. He still had not thought of a way to disguise his looks without the aid of magic, but he was determined to show the selectors that he was deserving of a place on their team. And that meant preparing. He had to memorise plays and strategies, as well as bone up on the history of the club and its achievements. If he was guilty of a little bit of daydreaming, whereby he was the Seeker that caught the Golden Snitch, winning the European League Championship for his team, well, where was the harm in that?

His pleasant dreaming was interrupted by Hermione as she rushed like a whirlwind into the library, her arms laden with plastic shopping bags. "I've got it, Harry! It's so simple; I cannot believe I didn't think of it immediately!"

"What, Hermione?" Harry asked in befuddlement.

"Your disguise! We have become what we abhor most in wizards—complacent! Relying only on magic to do what needs to be done. Of course there is a way to disguise you effectively and with no need to worry about maintaining a glamour charm or remembering to take a potion every hour!" With this declaration she upended one of the shopping bags onto the seat of the sofa by Harry. Out of it fell fake tanning lotion, a packet of coloured contacts, a tube of concealer, a bottle of bleach and several packets of Muggle hair dye.

"Brilliant, Hermione!" Harry jumped up from the sofa and grabbed Hermione around the waist. Lifting her, he spun her joyously around while she laughed. He placed her back on the ground and they stood, staring into each other's eyes as they caught their breath. Without thinking too much about it, Harry leant down and gently brushed his lips over Hermione's. A spark was generated at the soft touch and they clasped each other firmly in an embrace as their kiss deepened. When the need for air became too great, they reluctantly parted but maintained eye contact.

Harry cleared his throat. "So, um, what colour are you going to make my hair?" he asked.

Hermione smiled and cupped her hand on Harry's cheek before breaking away completely. The kiss just seemed to be the culmination of several weeks' worth of touches, pecks and intimate looks between the two of them. They had spent so much time together, this time without the spectre of possible capture and death hanging over them. She and Ron had quickly determined a romantic relationship between them was just not going to work. They were much better off as friends. Something told her the same thing about Harry and Ginny; they certainly had not been spending much time together. The brother/sister feeling Harry and Hermione thought they shared had masked a deeper attraction between them—an attraction that had now been solidified with that kiss. Nothing needed to be said between them, they knew it instinctively.

"Well," Hermione answered briskly, "I thought we'd start with bleaching it before colouring it dark red. I bought hazel coloured contacts for you to wear and we can darken your skin a bit with the fake tan. If you shave really closely that day there will be no stubble to give anything away and concealer will work magic on your scar, it's so faded now anyway. I thought you could register as James Evans and then if—when—you're successful you can tell them the truth. Once you explain why you disguised yourself they will be fine with it, plus they have the fall-back if anyone does accuse them of hiring you simply because of who you are!"

"James Evans," Harry mused. "And you're giving me Mum's hair and Dad's eyes."

Hermione suddenly looked nervous. "Is that okay, Harry? I mean, you look like your Dad with your Mum's eyes… I just figured we could reverse it for one day."

"It's great, Hermione, thank you," he said, hugging her again. They soon found themselves lip-locked once more, their unspoken attraction just manifesting between them.

"Come on," Hermione said, pulling back but staying in his embrace. "Let's go and get started. We need time to fix it if it gets stuffed up."

..o-O—^—O-o..

"Your wife does have a brilliant mind indeed. Listeners may not be aware but Mrs Hermione Potter sits on the Wizengamot in the family seat and has famously sponsored legislation to better the conditions of house-elves, centaurs and werewolves in our community just to name a few. All that while being the support Harry needs in his Quidditch career as well as being mother to their gorgeous baby girl, Grace. A lot of people are envious of you, Harry."

"As well they should be. Hermione is everything to me, wife, friend, supporter, lover… I can't even fathom what my life would be like without her and now with our baby as well. I am truly the luckiest man alive."

"Well said, sir, well said. Back to our listeners though; tell me, Harry, how did the team selectors react when you revealed yourself?"

"Like their birthdays, Easter and Christmas had all arrived on the same day. It was rather embarrassing and at first they didn't believe me but once I washed off the concealer and revealed my scar they were practically falling over themselves in the rush to welcome me. Since that day all of them have privately thanked me for trying out in disguise as they had plausible deniability sewn up and no one could accuse them of hiring me only for my name."

"And now the name Harry Potter is not only known in households country-wide because you are the Boy-Who-Lived but also because you are now one of the most decorated Seekers ever to play the game. Listeners, I'm just going to read out a few of Harry's impressive stats. As always, these stats will not include finals series, only regular home-and-away games. I will also keep you updated on the embarrassment meter as I do so. Oh look, he's already starting to blush. Right now I'd say he's at a level three on a scale of one to ten.

"Harry Potter is now in his eighth season as starting Seeker for the Caerphilly Catapults. During his eight seasons he has played one hundred and eight out of a possible one hundred and twelve regular season games, missing only three due to injury and one attending the birth of his daughter."

"May I interject here and say that I was also injured during the birth of my daughter? Hermione broke three bones in my hand."

"Most men would never admit to something like that, Harry."

"Most men have obviously never been in the birthing room. A Quidditch injury is nothing compared to what my wife went through on that day, she is a tough witch."

"Luckily you recovered quickly from having your wife injure you. Continuing on, Harry holds the league record for number of Snitches caught as well as having by far the highest percentage of Snitch catches ever in any league, anywhere in the world—91.66% or ninety nine out of one hundred and eight catches in the regular season. Oh, we're easily at a five on the redness scale. Harry, what is your secret?"

"There is no secret, Lee, just hard work, lots of practice and pure love of the game."

"And your team has reached the finals in six of the eight years you've played there, largely due to your contribution to the score each game."

"My effort only ends the game and gives us one hundred and fifty points, Lee. If I did only that every game we would be languishing in the bottom half of the table. The Chasers are the ones who rack up the points that push us into contention for the finals series as well as the Keeper who stops the other team from scoring. And never discount the work of the Beaters who beat those Bludgers away from our players so we can focus on the Quaffle and the Golden Snitch as needed. It is a true team effort and no player is more or less important than any other."

"Spoken like a true team player, listeners. It looks like the Blush-O-Meter has topped out at eight. You did have some conflict with your team members in the very beginning though, I heard. Can you tell us anything about that?"

"Well…"

..o-O—^—O-o..

"Alright, team, here is our newest member, Harry Potter."

There was dead silence in the locker room upon the announcement from the Head Coach, Archie Coulson. One of the Beaters for the team, Mark Abbot stood up slowly. "Potter?" he repeated. "What happened to that Evans guy? He was brilliant. He deserved a place on the team." There were murmurs of agreement as Harry looked around at the thirteen other players, hostility appearing on some of their faces.

"I'm James Evans," Harry said. "I tried out under a false identity."

"Why?" asked the reserve keeper, Kathy Paul.

"For this exact reason, so you would know I made the team based on my ability, not my name," Harry replied.

"I don't believe you," Abbot argued. "You could have paid that Evans guy to try out then just swooped in and took his spot with some cock and bull story. Wouldn't be the first time," he sneered.

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. Were people ever going to forget what was written in The Daily Prophet about him? "Look, I know you all think you know everything about me but you don't. I've never met any of you before although I recognise a few of you from school. I've played on my House Quidditch team since first year and I was Captain in my sixth year. I know what I'm doing out there on the field and I swear to you, it was me on that field last Tuesday."

"I say prove it," the other beater Max Prior challenged, standing up next to his teammate. "Let's get you back out there and put you through the same paces we put everyone through last week. Prove you're more than just a guy who can coast through the rest of his life on his own coattails."

Harry met the wizard's challenge with a scowl. Determinedly, he made his way over to the only vacant locker and put down his kit bag. One by one, he pulled out each piece of his equipment and changed his clothes. The rest of the team watched as he methodically donned his kit and changed his glasses for contact lenses.

"What are those?" the Chaser, Jane Smith asked curiously.

"Contact lenses," Harry replied, carefully inserting the second one into his eye. "They sit right over your iris and act like spectacles. I wish I had had the opportunity to use them earlier." He thought back on all the times he had played in rain and sleet, or even just worried about breaking them during normal play. Of course they could be easily fixed with magic, but having to cast an Impervius spell or Reparo on them just got to be annoying. He noticed that Jane wore glasses as well. "You should talk to your Healer about them, or just go into the Muggle world and buy them." She nodded to herself, her own glasses had broken more times than she wished to count and they never lasted as long if you constantly had to repair them.

"Alright, let's break up this little hen's meeting," Abbot drawled. Harry was really forming a bad opinion of this guy. "Let's see what you got, Potter."

"Gladly," Harry retorted. He grabbed his broomstick, the new Lightning Bolt that had just been released by the Firebolt Company. They had sent Harry a complimentary model—the first off the line. Harry was embarrassed by it, especially when they told him he had inspired the name of their new broom, but it was the best racing broom on the market and he would be a fool to knock it back. He had asked Hermione to write to the owner's wife and ask for her favourite charity. When the answer had come back, Harry had donated the price of the broom to St Mungo's Hospital in her name.

As soon as Harry entered the stadium he took to the sky. Looking down at the rest of the team he watched as they drew their wands and began to shoot golf balls into the air. The same thing had happened at his trial last week and he spent the next thirty minutes flying around the stadium catching as many of the fluorescent yellow balls as he could. He thought he actually did a little better than last time.

Next he was pitted against the Reserve Seeker, Jake Ward. The pair of them were blindfolded while the Golden Snitch was released and had to wait two minutes before chasing it down. They went through the exercise ten times and each of the ten times had Harry finding the Snitch within twenty minutes. It was much easier to find when there weren't twelve other players as well as the opposing Seeker and the Quaffle and Bludgers to dodge around.

Finally both the first team and reserve team took to the air and played a mock game. Harry saw and let the Snitch go three times before finally chasing it down to end the game. The Reserve Seeker never stood a chance. When the team landed, to a wizard (or witch) they apologised for doubting him and welcomed him to the team. Even Abbot changed his tune and Harry soon discovered the burly Beater was actually a pretty good lad. The satisfaction Harry felt at proving himself on his merits was like nothing he had ever felt before.

..o-O—^—O-o..

"And we all know that the Caerphilly Catapults have one of the tightest knit teams in the League. Is it difficult to maintain that level of closeness in such a competitive environment, Harry?"

"Yes and no. Most of the team have been together for years. Of the original fourteen that were there when I started only six have retired or moved to other teams, and the ones that moved were on our reserve team and had the opportunity to go to first teams at other clubs. We are like a family—we work together, travel together, and like a lot of workplace relationships, we end up socialising together as well. Everyone gets along really well and most of the team and support crew are married and have kids as well so we all fit together.

"Having said that, it is a cutthroat, competitive environment—there are fourteen teams in the League. Each club has fourteen players on the roster so you have seven people trying to break into the first team. Then there are the three hundred or so up-and-coming players in the local leagues just waiting for their shot at the big-time. Feelings are hurt easily and hard decisions sometimes have to be made regarding a player's future. I have seen more than one friendship destroyed over it."

"Several people have mentioned to me that they are surprised your friendship with Ron Weasley survived your move into professional Quidditch. They are even more surprised it survived the revelation that you and your lovely wife were romantically involved—"

"Lee, I'm sick to death of people asking me about this. It's been eight years for Merlin's sake. I'm sorry to sound so hostile, but people tend to forget that Ron and I are friends. We have been to hell and back together, with Hermione, and to insinuate that our friendship wouldn't survive life's challenges is insulting. Yes, there have been times over the years where our friendship has been strained but that was while we were still in school, and for a small time during the war, but there were other factors working against us there. By the time we reached adulthood we had already survived multiple life-threatening situations and come out of all of them relatively intact.

"Did Ron and Hermione think they would be together at one point? Yes, they did—but it did not take long for them to realise they were completely ill-suited romantically, only three dates in fact. Ron was not upset that Hermione and I got together, nor did he get upset when I joined the Catapults. He did not have the right to be and he knew it. Just like I do not have the right to publicly judge any of the decisions he has made in his life. Friends are there for each other and if we fell apart over him becoming an Auror or me becoming a professional Quidditch player then all I can say is that our friendship must not have been very strong. It is though and Hermione and I were honoured when he agreed to be Godfather to Grace. Our friendship is as strong as it ever was."

"Thank you, Harry, hopefully that statement will put to rest some of the comments that people have made over the years."

"Hopefully, but I doubt it."

"Now would be a good time for a break. Listeners, we will be coming back with some of your questions that you have been sending in during the week. Stay tuned for a word from our sponsors."

.

Lee turned off the microphone and pressed the button that would start the ad break. Harry picked up the glass of water in front of him and took a long drink.

"Sorry about that, mate, my producer made me promise to slip that in," Lee said softly, indicating with his head to where his boss was sitting in the adjacent room.

"At least you let me just say what has to be said and move on," Harry replied easily. "Hermione ended up chucking the reporter from Witch Weekly out of the house when she persisted."

Laughing heartily, Lee asked, "She chucked her out of the house? With magic?"

"No, but it was a close call. As soon as Hermione pulled her wand, the reporter dashed for the door," Harry said through his own laughter.

"I can picture it," Lee said. He composed himself again noticing that the third to last ad was currently playing. "The rest of the questions will be primarily Quidditch related, but touches very slightly on the personal—I've screened them all, nothing bad I promise. Just questions on what you'd like to do later and a bit about your younger years." He held his hand up solemnly to signify his vow.

"It all comes with it, I know," Harry said with a sigh. "The last one just pissed me off is all."

"I understand. Oops, back on in ten." Lee and Harry both prepared for the end of the ad break.

.

"Welcome back, listeners. If you've just tuned in I'm Lee Jordan and this is Quidditch Capers. We're here with our special guest for this week; Star Seeker for the Caerphilly Catapults and newest Seeker for the English National Team, Harry Potter. Our listeners have been inundating me with owls since I announced last week that Harry would be on the show and we have selected several to ask Harry now.

"The first question is from Kenny Doyle in Bareleg Hill, Staffordshire. Harry, what is your most memorable Snitch catch?"

"Well, Kenny, I would have to say the most memorable was my first. Much has been written about my first Quidditch game and you probably know that I survived an attempt to kill me by a teacher who was possessed by Voldemort. While I was trying to regain my balance, I actually caught the Snitch by swallowing it. The catch was deemed valid and we won the game."

"I do remember that game, most memorable indeed. Next we have Jamie Bull from Great Tosson, Northumberland who asks, what team did you support when you were a kid?"

"I didn't really have a specific team that I supported. I didn't even know Quidditch existed until my first train ride to Hogwarts where Ron told me all about it. To be honest, it made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. Ron's favourite team has always been the Chudley Cannons and for a long time I supported them in solidarity. I also supported Puddlemere United when my first Gryffindor captain, Oliver Wood, started playing for them."

"Oliver Wood, recently named Keeper in Puddlemere's Team of the Century and, of course, your captain once again, Harry, on the English team."

"That's right, and I didn't miss having Oliver as my Quidditch captain at all!"

"Ah sarcasm, the lowest form of wit, you know, Harry."

"As my wife often tells me, Lee."

"The next question is from Angie Butter in Knockerdown, Derbyshire. What are your plans after Quidditch?"

"As I'm only twenty-six I sincerely hope that 'after Quidditch' is another twenty years away at least. I have qualifications in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration. Get your NEWT's, kids, they're very important. I have made a hobby in recent years of breaking Charms and curses from different objects that friends have found lying around their homes or picked up over the years. It's a lot of fun and uses skills in most of the subjects I mentioned. I guess I might do something in that line or else I'll hang around Quidditch as a coach or something like that."

"You could go into journalism, your former girlfriend, Ginny Davies, has done that, has she not?"

"Yes, she has and a fine job she is doing. She often owls me for a comment for her column, but since I have to get Hermione's help to write it out in a way that makes sense I guess I will leave the journalism to Ginny. She is much more suited to it."

"So we won't be seeing an autobiography from you anytime soon?"

"You don't think there's enough written about me already?"

"Good point, good point. You should see Harry's eyebrows, listeners, they are about halfway up his forehead and he is looking at me like I am the stupidest man on earth."

"You said it, not me."

"Ahem, right, next question. Oh, I believe this is from one of your old classmates, although it's not so much a question as an order. Scarhead, I'm not paying you the big bucks to talk on the radio. Get your *ahem* back to Wales and get training!"

"Ferret, it's my *ahem* that earns you the millions you need to be able to sit around on your *ahem* and write stupid non-questions to ask me on radio! Wait, he is technically my boss, isn't he?"

"As the owner of the team, I'd say, yes he is."

"Please accept my humblest apologies, Mr Malfoy. I promise I will get back on my broom post haste and return to training. By the way, I'll sign the new contract just as soon as you agree to pay Grace's tuition for her full seven years at Hogwarts, you give me the full pay rise I am deman—requesting, and you admit publicly that I'm the best Quidditch player you have ever seen in your life."

"It may sound hostile, listeners, but the once-famous-rivalry between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy is now a much more cordial working relationship, is that not right, Harry?"

"Yes, we have bonded in friendship over the years as strange as it may sound. Both of us were destined to marry women much cleverer than ourselves and both of them have taken our family seats on the Wizengamot. As the two youngest witches on the panel, Hermione and Astoria naturally gravitated toward each other and a friendship was born. Your wives can't be close friends without the two of you having to get together on occasion and the animosity just wasn't worth the hassle. When the team came up for sale two years ago, Draco bought it outright and uses any opportunity he can to lord it over me."

"Since you brought it up, how are the contract negotiations going?"

"I can't comment on the details, Lee. We're in talks at the moment. I will say though that if these negotiations fall through, I won't go to another club. I will remain loyal to the Catapults through and through and I'd rather retire than move."

"I imagine Hermione would be happy to see you spend more time at home with her and Grace."

"She has never complained, Lee."

"One final question for the show, Harry, Harry Brickman, aged seven—who, by the way, says he was named after you—would like to know what your favourite moment playing for the Catapults has been?"

"Great name, Harry, and without a doubt, my favourite moment is catching the Snitch to win the game at the recent European Cup Final."

"And what a moment that was, listeners, am I right? In fact, I happen to have the last few minutes of commentary of that game to hand. Sit back and listen to yours truly as I play you that snippet of one of the best games it has been my privilege to commentate. Ladies and gentlemen, the climax of the 2006 European Cup Final."

.

Lee turned the microphone off and pressed the button to replay the match between the Caerphilly Catapults and the Plovdiv Prileps from Bulgaria. Harry's thoughts drifted as the final minutes were replayed. It was almost like he was there again.

..o-O—^—O-o..

The game had started several minutes ago and Harry was already looking for the Snitch. His coach was not a believer in drawing out the game unnecessarily, as long as Harry caught the Snitch when they were either guaranteed the win or when they just needed to be put out of their misery. Luckily, the vast, vast majority of Harry's catches had resulted in wins but there were times when the opposite was true. On a few occasions, Harry catching the Snitch was the only reason the Catapults came away with any score at all.

This game saw Harry finally pitted against Viktor Krum. Both their teams had won their respective League competitions and progressed through the European Cup to the final which was being played at the same ground where the 1994 Quidditch World Cup had been played—ironically the site where Harry and Viktor had first laid eyes on each other.

Viktor was now tagging Harry quite closely. He pulled up alongside Harry and taunted him, "Potter, how is your vife and my child?"

Harry scoffed. "Really, Viktor? You're trying to distract me by insinuating that Hermione, the paragon of virtue and honesty in my life, has been unfaithful? You have to try harder than that!"

"Your mother is… your vife has…" Harry laughed as Viktor completely failed to come up with any sort of insult. "You... you kill Voldemort like a sissy girl," he said lamely.

Harry grinned at his old friend and zoomed off to the other end of the pitch, scanning continuously for the Snitch as well as keeping an eye on the score. He and Viktor mostly stayed on opposite sides of the field but both occasionally attempted to draw the other out, pretending to fly off, completely focused on something in the distance. The crowd would go wild every time they did but were ultimately disappointed when nothing would come of it.

After an hour, the score was tied at eight goals apiece. Neither team could get the break from the other—the Chasers were all highly skilled and working together cohesively, the Beaters were doing a bang-up job of keeping the Bludgers away from their own players and the Keepers were both saving as many attempts at goal as were getting through.

Harry knew that it was going to come down to the catch of the Snitch to determine the outcome of the game. The pressure was on him as he scanned the field, looking for any hint of the Golden Snitch. He started to watch Viktor a lot more closely to see if the Bulgarian gave any sign of spotting the elusive gold ball. At one point, Viktor rose high into the air. Harry began to half-heartedly follow him when all of a sudden, Krum nose-dived toward the ground, his vision locked on a point far below.

Harry immediately turned and followed him, gaining on him quickly. They were about fifty feet from the ground, the cheers of the crowd almost deafening, when Harry realised he had seen this once before—in this very stadium in fact! 'Sly bastard! He's trying to get me on a Wronski Feint.' Harry immediately slowed his descent and levelled out, scanning around him frantically for the Snitch while Viktor was still heading downward, unaware that Harry was no longer on his tail.

'There!' Harry sped off toward the Bulgarian goal posts as fast as he could having noticed the Golden Snitch lazily circling around the middle of the centre goal. He had gotten the drop on Viktor, the Bulgarian noticing too late that Harry was otherwise occupied. Viktor was behind Harry by about twenty feet and gaining but was ultimately too late. Harry reached the Bulgarian goal posts and snatched the snitch comfortably, bringing the game to a close and bringing the score to two hundred and forty points for the Catapults while Bulgaria finished with only eighty.

"POTTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH! POTTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH! THE EUROPEAN CUP IS BACK ON BRITISH SOIL! CAERPHILLY CATAPULTS, EUROPEAN CHAMPIONS FOR 2006! POTTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH!" Lee's voice could be heard all around the pitch, broadcasting the result through the Wizarding Wireless Network.

..o-O—^—O-o..

"That was the moment of Harry Potter's greatest triumph in his professional Quidditch career, listeners, one I know we all shared with him. We are hoping it will be surpassed at next month's World Quidditch Cup of course. Harry, thanks for coming on the show today."

"My pleasure, Lee, I have had a good time."

"Next week we will have as our special guest, the great Captain himself, Oliver Wood. Please owl your questions to Quidditch Capers, Wizarding Wireless Network. Good luck for the Quidditch World Cup campaign, Harry, we will all be with you in heart and spirit."

"Thank you, Lee, and thank you, listeners, we are wholly grateful for your support."

"Until we meet again, listeners, this is Lee Jordan, signing off for Quidditch Capers."

.

"Thanks again, Harry, we love having you on the show," the producer said earnestly, clasping Harry's hand in a double grip.

"Next time lay off the questions about my personal relationships with my friends. I come here to talk about Quidditch, not Ron. His kids are getting older now, they don't need to be hearing this sort of stuff about their dad," Harry said firmly. He did not mind the bantering questions about Hermione, Grace and Ron, but dredging up old disagreements and speculating that Ron might not be a genuine friend annoyed Harry to no end. He had been known to get up and walk out on interviewers that had attempted to impugn Hermione's reputation.

The producer merely nodded and walked away. Lee shrugged and shook Harry's hand, promising to catch up with him over the weekend. Harry walked to the waiting room where Hermione had been sitting with Grace while she listened to Harry's interview.

"I did not break three bones in your hand, Harry. If you don't stop telling people that I did, I might just do it one day when you least expect it."

Harry walked over to his wife and daughter and gave each of them a kiss. He took Grace from Hermione's arms when the baby stretched out to him. She immediately grabbed at Harry's glasses, smearing them and trying to pull them off his face. Harry laughed as he took them off and handed them to Hermione. Undaunted, Grace immediately turned her attention to his mouth, pushing her tiny fingers against his lips and squealing when he pretended to eat them.

"I thought you liked people to think you are mean and tough," Harry argued.

"Only in the courtroom," Hermione retorted. "Come on, we're meeting Astoria and Draco in twenty minutes."

"Hermione," Harry whined.

"Harry," Hermione mimicked him. "Your whining would sound much more believable if you hadn't just admitted to the whole of the country that the two of you are friends now."

"I don't think I did say that exactly," Harry argued. "I believe I said something along the lines of 'we have a cordial working relationship'."

"Actually Lee said that," Hermione pointed out with a smug grin. "You used the word friendship."

Harry smirked at her before pecking her on the lips. "Know-it-all," he teased affectionately.

"Hero-boy," she teased back.

"Are you really alright with me still playing Quidditch?" Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione looked at him oddly before understanding broke over her face. "I love it when you're home with us, Harry, but I do not want you to give up doing what you love, just so you can stay home with us. Besides, you know I like my Quidditch players," she teased before turning serious again. "We are your life, I know, but so is Quidditch. You made a promise to me, remember?"

"Which promise?" Harry asked.

"You said you would retire as the oldest player ever to play in the professional league and for no other reason. By my reckoning that's another twenty two years, four months and eighteen days before you catch your final Snitch," Hermione replied.

"I really am the luckiest guy on earth, you know that," he said, clasping one arm around her. Hermione returned his embrace, trapping Grace between them. The baby laid her head on Harry's shoulder and he took a moment to revel in the love he felt for his girls. "Let's go," he said after a couple of minutes.

"Okay," Hermione said. She began to gather the toys and books she had been using to entertain Grace while they waited for Harry. "And you're signing that contract tonight," she said firmly. "No more taunting Draco with ridiculous demands."

"Can't I have the public declaration at least?" Harry asked with a pout.

"Section C, paragraph two, sub-section five: Draco Lucius Malfoy must publicly acknowledge that Harry James Potter is the best Quidditch player he has ever seen in his life," she quoted from the document she had helped to write. "I want to see if he notices," Hermione said with a wink.

Harry's laughter was heard through the lobby of the Wizarding Wireless Network building as he and his family walked out. Suddenly, he was itching to sign that contract.

..o-O—^—O-o..

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