The Man Who Knew Almost Nothing

Chapter Twenty-three

Before the season begins

The practice grounds for the national Quidditch team were protected by anti-muggle charms in addition to being relatively secluded. Harry, decked on his Quidditch robes, and Gilderoy, wearing a warm cloak against the chill, arrived at the pitch just an hour after sunrise for a full day of practice. Many of the team had camped out overnight as a matter of tradition and left their tents to greet their new seeker as soon as they heard the sound of his car, which was a fascinating muggle contraption that a few of them had never had the chance to examine up close.

“Nice set of wheels, Harry,” said the team captain, Arnie Blackwood.

“Thanks, Arnie,” he replied, taking his broom from the back seat.

As the team gathered around a few of them hesitated glances at Gilderoy, who was shivering slightly from the cold. Harry had taught him a rudimentary warming charm, but expressly told him not to use it in the vicinity of flammable objects, including his car, broom, and other people. He had only set himself on fire once, but that had been enough for Harry, though it had only singed Gilderoy’s robes. He had not even panicked, for which both Harry and Sirius had been extremely grateful.

“Harry, will you take us for a ride in that later?” asked the team’s twenty-one-year-old blond beater with an eager expression on his face.

“Sure, Neil. I’d be glad to,” said Harry. “Oh, and I want you fellows to meet Gilderoy. He’s going to be my husband,” he told them, putting his arm around Gilderoy.

With a few handshakes and glad-to-meet-you’s, Gilderoy was welcomed into the fold, though a few of the older team members shook their heads in sad amazement when they found out that Gilderoy had never, to the best of his knowledge, played Quidditch. Harry had yet to get him on a broom either.

“Just give it some time, Harry. I know you can bring him around,” said Arnie, slapping Gilderoy on the back. “Now, it’s time to get up in the air,” he said, never one to waste words.

It was a very windy day for Quidditch, but since the sport was played in all weather, teams practiced in all weather too, no matter the cold, the wind, or any other climatic condition. Harry enjoyed the freedom of being on a broom, of holding it steady with the wind and against it as he sought out the practice Snitch and watched the others fighting off the Bludger and tossing the Quaffle about with timed precision. From time to time Harry glanced down at Gilderoy at the edge of the pitch, watching with great interest and a happy, carefree smile.

With the reserve members of the team acting as the opposition, they played several games of Quidditch thorough the day, pausing only for lunch and a spot of afternoon tea during which they talked strategy and Blackwood, who was a chaser in addition to captain, gave advice regarding technique to the other chasers. Gilderoy joined them, listening to all the Quidditch talk with great interest.

“We’re going to be playing Ireland first this year, which is a bit of a disappointment,” Arnie told them, pulling the season schedule from within his robes.

“Troy, Mullet, and Moran,” murmured one of the chasers, hanging his head slightly.

“Don’t say it like that! It’s been five years! Count ‘em. Five years since Ireland won the Cup. They aren’t invincible, you know,” said Blackwood shortly.

“Fine. Where are we playing them?” asked Neil.

“Here. Well, not literally here, but in England,” answered Blackwood.

“How does Potter here rate against their seeker?” asked Jack Ames, the team’s keeper.

Arnie grinned and said, “I went along with the scout to see him play in school. I’d say better, much better.”

“Aidan Lynch? You think I’m better than him?” asked Harry, nearly choking on his food.

Blackwood laughed and said, “No, but Lynch got addled in a crash last season. Surprised you didn’t hear. He gave up the game. He’s advertising for racing brooms now. Their new seeker is a former player for the Harpies. She’s good, but she’s no Aidan Lynch.”

“And,” Harry added silently, “he was no Viktor Krum.”

The team practiced almost every day. Harry and Gilderoy would leave the Little Burrow early in the morning and return late into the evening. As Harry could no longer continue Gilderoy’s magical training because he was too exhausted to do so at night, Harry made certain that his lover had books to study while he practiced. One day a week Gilderoy would stay home with Sirius to practice his spells and to give Sirius the chance to teach.

Sirius spent much of his time with Professor Lupin at Hogwarts, helping with classes and spending time with his close friend. Sirius was considering applying for the a position at Hogwarts, which Remus predicted would be that of transfigurations as the esteemed Professor McGonagall would soon be becoming headmistress. Dumbledore, having seen the beginning of days of peace and tranquillity, was going to retire soon. And Sirius was certainly qualified when it came to transfigurations.

It was during the evening a few days before the first game of the season when Sirius made his announcement. Harry was just finishing up the first draft of his memoirs, which looked wonderful, despite the fact that he had hardly had the time or energy for them in the previous month. Gilderoy was studying a fascinating text on Defense Against the Dark Arts, which his soon-to-be husband hoped was more for general knowledge than future practical application. Sirius left his seat by the hearth and cleared his throat. Harry, who had been dozing, sat up and yawned.

“Remus asked me moved into his rooms at Hogwarts. And this time I said yes. What can I say? If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be,” Sirius told them.

A wide grin spread over Harry’s face as he said, “Congratulations, Sirius! I’m so happy for you,” Part of him wanted to beg Sirius, to tell him, “No, you can’t leave until Gilderoy and I get married in January.” But he only smiled and tried to tell himself that they would be fine without his guidance, strength, and cooking.

“Harry, it’s at partly due to your influence. I don’t think I would have left my apartment in London if you hadn’t asked me to come here. And, well, thanks for everything,” said Sirius.

“I don’t think we could have managed without you these past few months. If you ever want to come and stay with us again, you are always welcome, Sirius,” Harry told him sincerely.

“Well, with any luck, I won’t need to, but Remus and I will certainly visit.”

“I know I will miss you,” said Gilderoy.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be around so often that it will seem like I haven’t left at all.”

With some assistance, Sirius was moved out by the night before the England versus Ireland game, and both Harry and Gilderoy were sorry to see him go. He had been a wonderful friend, teacher, godfather, and a really excellent fellow in a pinch. Harry was certain that he would have gone mad without Sirius to lean on during troubled times. And yet he was truly happy for him and for Remus. They were finally going to be together and have time to enjoy one another without the mistrust of the war or grief and guilt that followed its final end.

And they had promised to come to the game as well. It was a Hogsmeade weekend at the school, which meant that Remus had a break from his assigned duties as well. Harry had arranged for them to have excellent seats on England’s side of the pitch along with Gilderoy, who was quite eager to see Harry play after watching so many practice games.

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