AN: Many thanks to my great beta readers Verlor and udm17!


Chapter 1 – The New Team Member


Chudley Cannons Fire Gudgeon – Who Will Be the Struggling Club's New Seeker?

By Boris Chamberlain

In a surprising press release yesterday afternoon, the Chudley Cannons announced the immediate dismissal and retirement of their Seeker Galvin Gudgeon. However, the only surprise is the fact that the announcement comes only a single day before the Cannons are set to depart for their training camp in Austria. After all, it has long been rumored that Cannons team manager Ragmar Dorkins has been looking for a new Seeker, not least since Gudgeon chased a butterfly for minutes in the last match before the Death Eaters' resurgence, thinking it was the Snitch. Most readers will still remember the picture of Dorkins on his knees, begging the enraged fans not to hex Gudgeon, as he would be even less helpful as a toad. Still, the question remains: who will Dorkins sign as the new Seeker for the Chudley Cannons? And will a new Seeker be enough to save the team from finishing last for the fourth time in a row?

The Cannons have called for a press conference this morning. It is highly likely that new team additions and restructuring will be announced. All that and more will be found for sure in the Prophet's Evening Edition!


Harry should have had every reason to be perfectly happy. Voldemort was defeated, peace reinstated in the British Isles, and his passionate relationship with Ginny had started anew after its abrupt end caused by the looming war and seemingly ever certain death. However, all that was in the past now, and the future seemed so much more promising ... just the sex with Ginny this morning had been as awesome as always. So why was he so grumpy when he stepped out of the Burrow that not even the clear blue sky could lighten his mood?

The reason was that today would be his first practice session with his new Quidditch team. After the Battle of Hogwarts, he had decided to make his long-desired dream come true and become a professional Quidditch player. He'd had enough of dark wizards for the rest of his life; now he would get to live life as carefree as he wished. But did he have to play for the Chudley Cannons of all teams? The worst team in the league?!

Sighing, Harry once again thought back to the moment a month ago that had got him into this whole mess in the first place. It had started as an innocuous visit to a Muggle pub with Ron and Neville for a drink. Simply a boys night out, just a nice change from the stressful everyday life in the overcrowded Burrow. And Ron had been thrilled by Harry's revelation that he wanted to play Quidditch professionally. But then the shrewd bastard had contrived a devious scheme that would have made most Slytherins green with envy. For Ron had continued to get him drinks over the evening, until his booze-addled mind thought that playing for the worst team in the history of professional Quidditch and leading them to the top seemed like a good idea. Just a new challenge after defeating the most powerful wizard of all time. Otherwise, life would be boring, wouldn't it? The fact that the worst team in the league was Ron's favorite was surely just a happy little coincidence...

It was now also obvious what a bad influence Ron had on Hermione; he should have stopped their diabolical relationship right from the start! For Hermione had immediately been hooked on the idea. So, while Harry had innocently slept it off, she had already acted as his agent and negotiated a contract with Ragmar Dorkins, the team manager of the Chudley Cannons, who gladly accepted the offer. Their previous seeker had been a dead weight to an already struggling team. Thus, everyone except Harry was enthusiastic about this arrangement, even Ginny, who found it quite amusing.

It wasn't that Hermione had done a bad job. No, certainly not. He would immediately be the Cannons' top earner, even if his salary was admittedly rather average compared to league standards. But money wasn't important to him anyway, he had more than enough of it – but did it really have to be the worst team in the league?! The last championship of the Cannons had been in 1892! The fans were already happy when they weren't the bottom of the pile.

The fact that Ginny had decided to not return to Hogwarts (the place held too many bad memories for her, she said) and had instead accepted an offer from the Holyhead Harpies didn't make it any better. She was a year younger than him and would still start with a much better team!

However, he no longer had a choice. Accompanied by intense protests on his part, he had finally signed the contract with the Chudley Cannons, after all, he did not want Hermione to look like a fool. Plus, he'd given Ron his word, drunk or not. And he loved Quidditch ... that's what it was all about, wasn't it? Just playing Quidditch, no matter which team.

At least that's what Harry tried to convince himself of as he crossed the boundary of the Burrow, shouldering his Firebolt and a sports bag. He should just make the best of it ... with one last sigh, he Apparated to his new team's stadium.

His first view of the stadium didn't do his mood any good. In fact, calling it a "stadium" was perhaps a bit too generous. It looked more like a village sports ground. A large, yellowish field of grass, at each end of which stood three wooden pillars with rings at the top. Next to it was a wooden, slightly crooked building, which presumably housed the locker rooms, and two high stands, their orange color long since faded. There were several people on the field who were already wearing their training clothes. Was he too late?

Suddenly someone clapped him on his shoulder, and Harry looked into the face of team manager Ragmar Dorkins. "Harry, there you are!" called the tall man, his brown thatch already showing the first gray streaks. His face, however, shone with an exuberant, almost childlike joy, as if Harry were Santa Claus and Easter Bunny all in one. "We were just waiting for you! I'll take you to the others."

"Am I late?" Harry asked, a little worried. Despite his displeasure, he wanted to make a good first professional impression – the Chudley Cannons had to hear enough mean comments from the fans of the other teams as it is.

"No, no, no," Dorkins waved off. "I purposely gave you a later time so that everyone would be here when you arrived."

With that, Dorkins put his hand on Harry's back and urged him to come with him.

"But shouldn't I get changed first?"

"No, no, no. You can do that later. First, everyone should get to know you!"

Harry gave in and let Dorkins lead him onto the field, from which some of his future teammates were already looking at him curiously. As he got closer, he recognized more and more of the assembled players, because of course, Ron had shown him pictures of them all – he even had several trading cards of each! The Keepers Davik Berg and Felix Carpenter immediately stood out due to their massive size. They were only overtaken by the Beaters Joey Jenkins, Jeremy Gottwald, and Patricia Petric. The Chasers, Claire McKilton, Henry Stone, Sophie May, and Jon Doyle finally completed the team, but Harry noticed a blond-haired person behind the players who he could not identify.

Harry knew he would be by far the youngest player on the team. After all, the Cannons was exclusively a team for players who wanted to make a few Knuts for some quiet seasons and eventually retire. The current Captain Davik Berg might have been only twenty-five when he joined the Cannons, but that had been ten years ago. And the fact that he had come to the Cannons when he was twenty-five also raised doubts about his skills. Young and ambitious players actually looked for better standing teams to advance their careers.

Thus, Harry was all the more surprised when he realized that the person with the blond head of hair was a young woman ... there had been no such woman among the players Ron had shown him. He could only see the back of her head, but she had honey-blonde hair about shoulder-length and was of delicate build. So definitely not a Beater or Keeper. When she suddenly turned to him, it took him a few moments to recognize her, here, in this unlikely place.

It was Daphne Greengrass! In Hogwarts, they had been in the same year, but since she had been in Slytherin, they had nothing to do with each other; at least, she hadn't belonged to the group of Slytherins around Malfoy and Parkinson they'd always quarreled with. Still, he knew next to nothing about her. So what was she doing here?

Greengrass seemed at least as surprised as he was if he correctly interpreted her facial expression. However, she was by no means alone, because by now, a dozen pairs of puzzled eyes were looking at him.

"Is that Harry Potter?" he heard a voice.

Dorkins, though, was not plussed. Still with a big grin on his face, he waved to the team's coach, Rob Meyers. He was an older, almost bald man who had been involved in professional Quidditch for decades. In recent years, however, his coaching stations had not been so successful, which is why he ended up with the Cannons. There were always rumors that he wanted to retire, but so far, he had kept adding one more year to his career, apparently still enjoying his job too much. Now, however, Rob Meyers looked liverish.

"You can start soon, Rob," Dorkins called cheerfully. "I just have to say something beforehand. Introducing the new players, so to speak." With that, he pointed to Harry, who was standing a bit uncomfortable next to him. "You must have already recognized him. I'm happy to introduce you to Harry Potter, our new Star Seeker!" Dorkins clapped for joy, but the other players still stood there with surprised faces and apparently unable to properly process the news.

But then Captain Davik Berg stepped forward, also with a broad grin on his face. "Potter then? Nice to see you on the team!" He turned to Dorkins. "Merlin, Ragmar, always with the sudden surprises!"

Dorkins grinned brightly "Well, of course!"

"Can we start training now?" asked trainer Rob Myers in an annoyed voice.

"Yes, yes, yes, of course," said Dorkins hastily. "But Harry and I have to leave for a bit. We still have a few journalists to introduce our new player to." He then seemed to remember that there was another new player on the team, because he hurriedly continued, "Oh yes, almost forgot. You probably might've already talked to her, but I would like to officially introduce Daphne Greengrass." He pointed to the blonde woman, who was standing there with a stoic expression. "For now, she comes to the training camp as a substitute Chaser and Seeker. If she proves herself there, she becomes part of the team. Otherwise, there are no changes, except that Galvin is retired. Greengrass, come along as well."

With that, Dorkins put his arm around Harry, guiding him towards the wooden building. Greengrass followed them with a determined look, broom in hand.


Harry felt almost blind as they were greeted by a thunderstorm of lightning. The small room that Dorkins had called the "press room" was jam-packed with journalists, all of whom were yelling at him now.

"Harry!"

"Mr. Potter!"

"One question –"

Harry shook his head. What was he getting into? Somehow, he couldn't imagine that normal Cannons press conferences would have so many media representatives present.

"Now, now," laughed Dorkins. "You can ask your questions right away. Let's just sit down first."

He followed Dorkins to a small table with several microphones mounted on it and three chairs behind it. Dorkins sat in the middle chair, Harry sat on the left and Greengrass took the last chair on the right.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dorkins called over the babble of voices. "Please calm down and take a seat. Silence please! You can ask your questions right away. One after another. I'll call you up."

Little by little, calm returned, and at some point, all the journalists were sitting in their seats, while an expectant atmosphere settled over the room.

"There we go," said Dolkins with a grin. Would he even stop grinning today? "I am delighted to welcome you all here today for the start of our summer season training stage. As you can see, we have some new additions to our roster for the next season." He pointed to Greengrass. "Here we have Daphne Greengrass, 18 years old, hot from Hogwarts. She will accompany us to our training camp starting tomorrow, as a substitute Chaser and Seeker. And maybe after that, we can welcome her as a full new team member." Now he pointed to Harry. "And here we have Harry Potter! I suppose I don't have to say anything about him anymore, do I? He's the Man-Who-Conquered, the savior of our world and as of today the new Seeker of the Chudley Cannons!"

The cameras flashed, and Harry rolled his eyes inwardly.

"If you have a question, please let me know. I will then call you up."

All hands shot up. Dorkins scanned the rows and finally pointed to a brunette witch in the second row. "Yes, Jessica."

The witch stood up, giving Harry a bright white smile. "Harry, what do you think of the Wizengamot's proposal to introduce a Harry Potter day?"

Harry felt extremely uncomfortable under all the glances directed at him. "Um, I don't know anything about that," he said hesitantly.

"Next question," Dorkins called. "Yes, Boris."

A slightly older man with horn-rimmed glasses stood up. "Boris Chamberlain, Daily Prophet," he introduced himself. "Harry, how have you been over the past few weeks? We haven't heard from you in a while."

Harry scratched his head. "Yeah, well, I was enjoying my free time..."

"And of course signed his contract as our new Star Seeker," interrupted Dorkins. "The first merch will be available to buy starting tomorrow!"

Wait a minute, merch? That was the first time he heard about anything like that. Did Hermione know about it? As his (unofficial) agent, she'd better have.

"Linda," Dorkins called on another journalist, who introduced herself as a reporter for Witch Weekly.

"Speaking of merch. Harry, are the rumors true that there will soon be action figures of you?"

"Action figures?" Harry replied, confused. "No ... I am honestly hearing about it for the first time. So, well no, I guess these rumors aren't true."

So it went on and on. One question followed another, the raised hands simply not decreasing. And the questions almost all revolved around Harry, Quidditch hadn't been the topic for a long time. Slowly Harry got a headache, even if he had to laugh briefly when asked if he would name his children after Dumbledore.

Eventually, a Rita Skeeter look-alike said, "When are you going to get married? And when will you finally have children?"

Finally? He was 18, for Merlin's sake!

He was about to open his mouth when suddenly the door to the press room opened with a loud thump and coach Rob Meyers entered with a flushed head. "Ragmar," he shouted out loud. "Can I finally get my players now?"

Harry had never been happier to see someone barging into a room like this, and the tone even made Dorkins quiver a bit.

"Um, yes, yes, of course," replied Dorkins, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but unfortunately we have to end the press conference here." Press Conference? It was more like an interrogation, Harry thought. "The next one will be at our first practice match. We will announce the exact time and place later. Have a nice day."

With that, Dorkins rose, and Harry and Greengrass followed. By then Harry had completely forgotten that Greengrass had also been sitting at the table. She hadn't been asked a single question.

Another thunderstorm followed them as they left the room, and when they were back outside, Harry took a deep breath, clearing his mind.

"Potter," Meyers called to him, tearing Harry out of his thoughts. "Change your clothes. I am training with the Chasers first. Then Seekers. So you'll have to wait for a while."

Harry nodded before going into the small locker room. There, too, nothing looked really dirty, but somehow shabby. In any case, the facilities at Hogwarts had been in better shape.

When Harry stepped outside again a few minutes later – fortunately there were bi reporters left – he saw Meyers standing in the middle of the field and gesturing wildly with his arms. The five Chasers flew overhead on their brooms. Henry Stone and Jon Doyle, bigger than the other Chasers, were easy to recognize – Harry would not have been surprised if they had played as Beaters in the past. The women were smaller in stature than the men. Harry recognized Claire McKilton, the oldest player on the team and assistant captain. She radiated a great calm, but unfortunately also a certain slowness. Sophie May was the exact opposite. At twenty-eight she was one of the younger players on the team, but she looked very insecure and somewhat nervous. She kept dropping the Quaffle and almost colliding with other players in the air.

Greengrass, on the other hand, was very different. She was the most petite of them all and managed to make herself even smaller on her broom. And Harry was surprised at how gracefully she moved through the air as if she had never done anything but fly! And she was fast, he noticed. In a split second she was able to change direction in the air, yet still managed to catch every ball thrown at her, even if it was from the most crooked angle. Now Harry understood why she was also assigned as substitute Seeker. He himself would have immediately accepted her into his team at Hogwarts; she even reminded him a little of Ginny. With her skills, why had Greengrass never played for the Slytherin team?

Harry waited until the Chasers had finished training and Coach Meyers waved him over before stepping onto the field. Now it was just him, Meyers, and Greengrass. Harry nodded to Greengrass, to which she replied.

"Well, off into the air," said Meyers. "Parcours flying. I want to see how fast and agile you are in the air. One after the other." Then he made several brightly colored cones rise into the air with his wand.

Harry and Greengrass mounted their brooms and pushed themselves off the ground – and instantly Harry felt free from any worry that had been plaguing him since morning. He just loved to fly on his broom, feeling the wind on his skin, how it tousled his hair and carried away all his bad thoughts.

He grinned at Greengrass. "Ladies first!"

Greengrass just rolled her eyes, however, before leaning forward on her broom. Suddenly she shot off and circled the first cone. Then the second, then the third. In a matter of seconds she was through the flying course, almost smoothly. Only at the last cone she didn't quite make the corner and touched it lightly with the end of her broom.

"Eleven seconds," Meyers called out to them. "You can do better. And you touched the last one, Greengrass. Now you, Potter."

Harry leaned over his broom, too, and started off. At the first cone, he made a sharp turn and flew around the second cone. Another sharp bend and the next cone. Eventually, he had crossed the course, and Greengrass nodded approvingly.

Harry looked at Meyers. "Eight seconds," he called. "Not bad. Nice broom you've got there, Potter. Now a little competition. I'm going to let go of ten Golden Snitches. I'll then start counting down and you'll have to catch them. If you touch them, they will come back to me so I'll know which one of you caught them. Whoever catches more wins. Any questions?"

Harry and Greengrass shook their heads, and then Meyers opened a wooden box, causing ten gold, walnut-sized balls with silver wings to shoot off in all directions. Harry fixed on one and followed it with his eyes.

Meanwhile, Meyers started counting down. "Five, four, three, two, one, GO!"

Harry shot forward and after a few seconds, he reached the Snitch. His fingers closed briefly around the cold ball before letting go of it again and the Snitch returned to Meyers. Harry immediately looked around again – and saw a golden flicker about fifty meters away. This Snitch, too, he caught within a few seconds. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Greengrass was chasing a Snitch at the other end of the field, but it kept escaping her by abruptly changing direction. Harry then started to look around for another target.

Fortunately, they were practice Snitches and not the ones used in actual matches; otherwise, all this would have taken several hours. Therefore, only a few minutes passed as Harry caught Snitch after Snitch; how many exactly he could not say, though, because he didn't count.

Eventually, there was only one Snitch left, and Harry and Greengrass shot at it from two different sides. Greengrass had a head start of about thirty meters, which is why Harry made himself as small as possible and got everything he could from his Firebolt. The Snitch came closer and closer, only a few inches between his hand and the golden ball. And then his fingers grasped the Snitch. In triumph, he raised his fist.

Greengrass stopped a meter away from him. She had been too slow, and the disappointment was evident on her face.

Meyers waved the two over and they landed in the middle of the field.

"Potter caught eight, Greengrass two," Meyers said. The actual numbers surprised Harry. "I've got a quite decent impression of your abilities," continued Meyers. "But there will still be a lot to do in the training camp. Don't think you have nothing more to learn, Potter. The professional league is not Hogwarts. And don't be smug about beating Greengrass with a superior broom. I want you to train hard in the next few weeks and the following season. Is that understood?"

Harry nodded gravely. Meyers was apparently one of the tough kind, but he had survived Oliver Wood for several years. Nonetheless, he wanted to do his best and keep improving. The fact that they had been the worst team in the league so far didn't have to mean that they would also be next season. In any case, it would not be his fault!

Meyers looked content. "Then I'll see you tomorrow morning at 8," he said. "Meeting point here. Then we Portkey to the training camp in Austria. Don't be late. You can go change now."

Meyers then walked away with quick steps, leaving Harry and Greengrass on the field, who eyed each other attentively. In fact, it was Harry's first opportunity to examine Greengrass. She had similar green eyes, even if hers were much lighter than his.

Harry thought of a way to start a conversation with her, but he just couldn't think of anything clever. He could not remember exchanging kind words with a Slytherin even once in his life. Greengrass apparently didn't have the same problem, because suddenly she held out her hand.

"Your performance was really impressive," she said. "Nice to get to know you properly, Harry."

Her voice was gentle and there was no trace of resentment. Strange, he hadn't even been able to recall her voice, even though they'd had classes together for years. In fact, he couldn't remember anything about her.

At her words, however, he had to laugh. "Harry, eh? I think this is the first time a Slytherin has called me by my first name."

Greengrass smiled at his words, and her smile was so infectious that Harry felt a grin spreading over his face as well.

"Hogwarts is behind us," she said. "We are teammates now. Don't you think we can be a little friendlier with each other?"

She was right, Harry thought. And she seemed really friendly so far. "Right," he said, causing Daphne to beam at him. "Hogwarts is in the past."

The leather of their gloves crunched as he shook her hand. Then they shouldered their brooms, heading for the locker rooms.

Daphne's gait was almost bouncing, Harry noticed, with her blonde hair blowing behind her. When she finally spoke again, the joy in her voice was unmistakable. "That was a great practice, wasn't it?"

Harry honestly didn't find it that special compared to his previous ones, but he didn't want to diminish Daphne's enthusiasm, which started to rub off on him a little. "Yeah, it was pretty good," he said. "At least the part where we could fly. I would've preferred to skip the press conference."

"Better be glad that people love you so much and are so interested in you. They mean no harm. And there's always gossip anyway."

Harry looked at her in surprise. "Didn't you find it annoying that they didn't ask you a single question? This whole press conference was a farce."

Daphne shook her head. "No. I'm just glad to have been invited to the training."

"At the Chudley Cannons?" Harry didn't realize until he had already uttered the words that they might have been a bit tactless.

Daphne tightened her grip on her broom but otherwise showed no change. "I don't care," she said quietly. "I am grateful to them for inviting me in the first place. I've never been able to show my skills before."

That was also something Harry was interested in. "Why didn't you ever play for Slytherin?" he expressed his curiosity. "I saw how well you flew during the practice. You would have been much better than the morons on your team."

"What a compliment," laughed Daphne. "But tell me, have you ever seen girls on the Slytherin team?"

"Um..."

"Exactly. There was a certain … animosity towards girls." Daphne looked at him curiously. "But why are you with the Chudley Cannons? Surely you could've chosen a much better team?"

Harry shook his head in amusement, noticing that his bad mood from earlier was completely gone by now. "Yeah, maybe, but Ron made some … convincing arguments. The Cannons are his favorite team, you know."

Now Daphne looked at him in amusement. "That sounds like there's more to it than that. You'll have to tell me at some point."

"Yes, at some point."

In the meantime, they had reached the locker rooms. Harry felt as if Daphne wanted to say something more, but apparently, she decided against it, because she just raised her hand in parting and said, "Then I'll see you tomorrow morning. Goodbye, Harry."

"Yes, see you, Daphne."

With that, they both entered their respective locker rooms. Harry had to admit that today's practice hadn't been that bad ... maybe he would have a good time at the Cannons after all. With that conciliatory thought, Harry took a quick shower before Apparating back to the Burrow.


"And how was your training?" Ginny asked over dinner. Besides them, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at the dining table, seeming very interested in the conversation.

"Quite good, actually," Harry replied with a smile. "Meyers is a tough cookie, though."

"But it's a good thing he trains the Cannons," said Ron from the opposite side. "With him, we at least win a match every now and then."

Ginny put her hand on Harry's arm before she said with mock sympathy, "But you won't have a chance against us."

Harry stuck his tongue out at her before they both laughed.

"No obscene gestures at the dinner table!" Mrs. Weasley admonished.

Harry put on a guilty-conscious expression, and then they continued to eat quietly. Mrs. Weasley's food was delicious, as always, and Harry already knew that he would sorely miss her food during the coming weeks, even if he had no idea how good Austrian cuisine was.

"How are your teammates?" Ginny finally asked him.

Harry then grinned over at Ron. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. There is another new player besides me. Ron, do you know who you have to cheer for next season?" Ron stared at him, wide-eyed as if he were already preparing for the worst. Grinning, Harry continued, "Daphne Greengrass is now playing for the Chudley Cannons. Substitute Chase and Seeker."

Ron's reaction didn't disappoint Harry. "Greengrass?!" he exclaimed, stunned.

Hermione also looked at Harry in surprise. "Daphne is playing Quidditch?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be surprised. "You know Daphne?" he asked.

Ron also looked curiously at his girlfriend.

"We shared Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," Hermione replied. "We talked to each other from time to time and exchanged notes. I never thought she would play Quidditch…"

Ron just shook his head. "Never thought I'd cheer for a Slytherin one day. And then Daphne Greengrass of all people. We're living in crazy times, aren't we?"

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley smiled to themselves while Hermione laughed out loud. "You can be happy, Ronald, if that's your biggest problem."

Ron turned to her. "Soon it will be. Once we've found your parents."

Hermione beamed at him, and the couple exchanged a loving kiss.

Harry proudly looked at his best friends – they had come a long way indeed. He kept his fingers crossed for the two of them to find Hermione's parents. Tomorrow they would leave for Australia while he would go to Austria. He had never been outside Great Britain before...

"Is she good?" Ginny's voice tore him from his thoughts. He raised his head and looked into Ginny's brown eyes, which were studying him intently.

"What do you mean?"

"Greengrass. Is she good?"

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "I only saw her briefly on the broom, but yes, I think so. At Hogwarts, I would have accepted her on my team straight away. She also seems to me to be the best of our Chasers."

"Even better than Doyle?" asked Ron. He had broken his kiss with Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Ron," said Harry. "That may be hard for you to hear, but the Cannons don't have the best team in the league."

"We have you. You will make us champions!"

Everyone at the table laughed, but Harry couldn't tell if Ron had meant that seriously.

...

Later that evening, Harry and Ginny were sitting together in Ginny's room. Ginny actually shared the room with Hermione, but she had crept into Ron's room, which he actually shared with Harry. As long as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't notice, the two couples had agreed to handle the room assignments a little more flexibly.

Ginny had just laid her head on Harry's chest, sliding her delicate hand over the inside of his legs ... and Harry could already feel his body reacting to Ginny's touch. He would miss her terribly in the coming weeks – because Ginny's Harpies would also leave tomorrow for their training camp in Spain. But maybe he could at least visit her on her birthday...

Suddenly he felt Ginny opening his fly before her small, warm fingers pulled down his trousers and pants.

"I don't want you to forget me in the coming weeks," Ginny said with a seductive smile.

Harry didn't know what she meant by that. Of course, he wouldn't forget her! However, he did not have time to think more intensely, because suddenly a wonderful warmth enveloped him.


Next Chapter: Tears on the Quay

Release Date: Sunday, June 13th, 2021

Preview:

A warm smile crept onto Daphne's face as she answered, her gaze off into the distance, "I've loved Quidditch since I was very little. Back then, my father took me to a match between the Montrose Magpies and the Wigtown Wanderers. I don't even know who won, but I instantly fell in love with this sport. The fast brooms, the flight maneuvers, the cheering of the fans across the stadium. That was when I realized what I wanted to do in life..."


AN:

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new story! I can definitely say that it will be very different from "Birds and Monsters" and also significantly shorter. In fact, the first three chapters were written a year ago when I got the idea for this story. But I quickly realized that I can only concentrate on one story at a time, so I put "Team Potter" on the back burner for the time being. But in the past few weeks, I was finally able to finish the story.

I would love to read your opinions on the chapter and otherwise see you at the next chapter next Sunday. Cheers :)


The Chudley Cannons:

Team Manager: Ragmar Dorkins

Coach: Rob Meyers

Seekers: Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass

Beaters: Patricia Petric, Joey Jenkins, Jeremy Gottwald

Chasers: Claire McKilton, Henry Stone, Sophie May, Jon Doyle, Daphne Greengrass

Keepers: Davik Berg, Felix Carpenter