Destiny Finds a Way

Chapter II - Raspberries

Harry pulled his navy-blue Puddlemere United Quidditch robes tighter around him. It was chilly out that night. Harry deeply wished he hadn't forgotten to bring his cloak but he did not want to turn back to the campsite and get it. He knew that if he did, he might not be able to manage coming back. The lads would keep forcing another butterbeer or another shot of Ogden's Old Firewhisky on him and other such various clever ways to keep him in their company. The only reason Harry was able to get away was because he had slipped out, telling them he needed to go to the loo.

So it was with a strange feeling of guilt and pleasure that Harry sat on the damp grass in the vast golden stadium where he played his fist ever international Quidditch game, breathing in the cool night air. They played and won against the Pride of Portee and were now just a little closer to victory in this year's European Cup. Harry was still half-expecting that he wake up to find out all this had all been one merely fantastic dream.

He stared at the emblem of his team (two crossed golden bulrushes) then looked the starry sky winking above him. He remembered everything... how at the last tense minutes before the match started, their Seeker, Crandlewick Montimmer, refused to play because one of their Beaters, Bradley Zibberwalter, called him a "selfish, big-headed twit". His reaction resulting from the comment rather proved the insult true but Harry was kind of glad the Montimmer was what he was otherwise their Captain, Odwin Wakjobe, (after much persuasion from Wood) wouldn't have called Harry off the bench and let him have his chance as Seeker.

He remembered when the commentator called out their names, "Zibberwalter, Wood, Paris, Wakjobe, Prittleby, Shrigger and... what's this? We have a change in line-up! Harry Potter will be playing Seeker instead of Montimmer!" The crowd gasped in amazement and started whispering so loudly that they hardly heard the names of the other team.

It was an amazing match. Harry's endless practicing was finally proving its use. It seemed all the pent up energy he had stored while he was watching from the benches was bursting through him. All eyes were on him as he tore across the stadium after the golden Snitch. He was putting his Lightning broomstick through its most extreme of paces. The wind slapped against him so hard as if it were indignant that anything move so fast. He did everything to precision and he didn't have to put on any diversionary tactics at all which was somewhat a shame. He caught the Snitch with his right hand half an hour into the match. There was a few seconds of stunned silence on all sides until the commentator broke it with words that were soon drowned out by the crowd. They went ballistic. They couldn't believe that their hero, Harry Potter---the one who delivered them from Voldemort---could be their hero on the Quidditch Field as well! Harry took a victory lap. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. He flashed Ron, Dean and Seamus a smile and a thumbs up as he passed them in the stands. Crandlewick was furious with himself. Odwin was so amazed at Harry's performance that he changed the line-up. Harry would be playing Seeker for all the remaining matches of the season until further notice.

All though they were still quite far from winning the European Cup, everyone was celebrating as if they had. But after a while, everything got a bit old and all Harry wanted was to get away from it all. His back was sore from all the pats he was getting for winning.

He wished Liz could have been there to see it---when he waved the Snitch in the air and when he went for a victory lap around the stadium... but no. They were over. She was too busy being famous. Her music was an instant hit and every teenager in the wizarding world knew her name. They had grown apart. They had broken it off only about six months ago after deciding that their cross-country relationship was not working anymore but it felt longer than that...

He stared into the inky black sky, trying to force Liz out of his mind. He concentrated instead on the remaining thrill left behind in his chest from the match that took place three hours ago. He was nineteen... barely a teenager anymore but he had accomplished what people twice his age could only dream about. And for the first time in a long while... Harry Potter felt... happy.

"I thought I might find you here," said Ron from behind him. "Take this, it's cold," he suggested, handing Harry his cloak.

"Thanks," said Harry, putting it on.

"You know everyone's looking for you," said Ron, sitting beside Harry.

"Are they?" Harry said nonchalantly.

"Yeah! You're the hero of the match! Why'd you go, anyway?"

"Mull things over... take it all in. I just can't believe I made it. This all feels so surreal!"

"And I can't believe I was there to see it happen."

"If only Sirius was here... he'd get a total kick out of this!"

Ron was quiet for a while. He didn't quite know what to say about this. They hardly talked about Sirius anymore... it was too painful. He instead cast around for a different subject, "Don't you think it's ironic that I missed all your team's matches except this one?"

"Ha! Yeah! Totally ironic. But, well, you've been busy. I understand. But now you have to come to all my games! I'm going to play Seeker for the rest of the season," Harry laughed.

"No way, Harry! That's fantastic!" Ron smiled, clapping Harry on the back. Harry winced. Ron took no notice.

"Hermione's going to flip when she hears about that! She's never missed any of your games, you know?"

"Really? I didn't know because she doesn't come see me afterward."

"It's because she's really busy, isn't she? She's Jr. Head of the Department of Experimental Magic, and sometimes she does a few articles for the Daily Prophet," said Ron logically, popping a toffee into his mouth. The wrapper said Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in gold letters. Fred and George, Ron's older twin brothers, had recently expanded their joke shop to sell sweets aside from the prank stuff. They were doing really well in Diagon Alley.

"She's Jr. Head of Department already?" Harry's jaw dropped. Harry knew that Hermione was doing very well in the Ministry and that she would inevitably rise up in the ranks but he didn't know she'd rise up that fast.

"Yeah... I know! That's what Percy said. I was a bit surprised at how quick she got there too, come to think of it," Ron exclaimed, popping another toffee into his mouth, "But I'm glad for her. I think Percy's a bit jealous!

"I told him it was because Hermione wasn't a pompous git like he was but he insisted that it was because she has special favor because she directly helped destroy You-Know-Who. The idiot. I reckon he thinks she's a threat to him becoming Minister of Magic. As if anybody will want him as Minister anyway..." Ron scoffed. He never got along with his brother Percy as well as he did with his other 5 siblings.

"She'd be brilliant if she did get the top job. She's always brilliant."

"Ha! If she did, the House Elves might start a rebellion and put off their chores!" Ron guffawed loudly before going on, "But Liz is the one making waves. She's a role model now! Just last week, Majandra---Bill's daughter---was saying how she wanted to be 'just like Auntie Lizzie' when she grows up," Ron squeaked, imitating the voice of his two-year-old niece. Bill was Ron's oldest brother. "I guess that's what happens when you become a famous musician."

Harry didn't reply to this. Sure he and Liz were still friends... she kept sending him owls telling him what country she'd be touring next, that she'd be interviewed on the WWN (Wizard Wireless Network---wizard radio station) on this day, what song she was writing... She also kept asking him how he was doing. He had stopped replying to them. He found that it hurt too much.

"You're not still moping about her, are you?" Ron asked, faint traces of pity in his voice.

Harry didn't feel like getting into the matter right now so he changed the subject Thankfully, Ron did not ask further questions. "So how are you and Ming-Lao?" asked Harry, referring to the girl Ron was currently dating.

"Fine. I think Ming will finally be moved from taking care of the mentally diseased at St. Mungo's," Ron announced. Ming always wanted to be a Healer but, for some time, she was stuck taking care of the nutcases of the wizard hospital the first day in and she just sort of stayed stuck. She was hoping to get transferred into helping with the cultivation of the medicinal ingredients, which was always one of her keenest interests and specialties. They were never close to this girl back when they were at school since she was a Hufflepuff and two years younger than them but when she left, he was told she had received top marks in Herbology only ever seconding to Hermione. Ron met her in the hospital when he came in with an anvil growing out of his head, courtesy of his twin brothers.

"How's work?" Harry inquired further.

Ron was an Auror. Well... almost an Auror anyway. It was slow work for him to pass all his tests. He hardly scraped up enough O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T's to pursue this career in the first place. It was more of Ron's former experience and contribution to the Ministry for aiding in the vanquishing the Dark Lord and capturing many of his Death Eaters, helped along with some of his father's newly formed connections that gave the allowances he needed to enter this career.

Everyone thought he, Harry, would be the Auror in the trio. He himself had thought so as well. But the events of his final year at Hogwarts had changed everything. He could not bear the thought of looking at those sinister faces, their unforgiving eyes in which Harry could almost just see the reflections of their slain victims. He could not bring himself to be reminded every waking hour of those that he had lost to them.

"Tough, mate. I failed my stealth exam for the third time! Tonks almost broke my neck!" Ron ranted. Tonks had been tutoring him on the side, seeing as Ron could use all the help she could give him but she was getting increasingly agitated, despite her gentle nature, due to her student's apparent lack of improvement.

"What happened this time?" Harry exhaled deeply.

"Do you want to hear about everybody else or not?" Ron said shortly, not being too keen on discussing his failure, at the memory of Tonks's screams of fury.

Harry grinned cheekily and gestured for Ron to go on.

So after a few disgruntled groans from Ron, they kept talking about what happened to the rest of their classmates at Hogwarts until the wee hours of the morning. A lot had happened these last two years after graduating from Hogwarts. It was hard to keep contact with friends now that they weren't able to see each other on a daily basis. So this was an excellent time to hear what their friends and/or enemies had made of themselves.

Who knew that Draco Malfoy, after priding himself on being rich, would end up bankrupt after he invested nearly all his assets on the production of the Nimbus 3000?

It was defective because the reinforced breaking charm that it was advertising was too powerful. It hurled Greystoke Winsby of the Caerphilly Catapults two hundred feet in the air. The poor bloke broke his neck and was nearly killed or paralyzed when he landed on the ground. The good news was, the mediwizards acted quickly enough, preventing any lasting damage. The bad news was that the broom afterwards sold like a lead pipe. Draco was currently suing the developers but had to suffer the pangs of poverty while the case was being reviewed.

Crabbe and Goyle were doing what they had always been doing from the very start: serving as bodyguards to Draco. Only now they got paid for it. Neville was currently teaching Herbology at Hogwarts. Dean had taken to art---painting, sketching and sculpting---and seemed to be doing pretty well since Ron had not used the phrase "starving artist" to describe his career. Seamus was working in Hermione's Department.

Ginny had joined her twin brothers in their joke shop. She was now an equal partner. She was responsible in the expanse of their shop to sell real sweets aside from their usual joke shop. It was somewhat a surprise since Ginny had been an outstanding student in Hogwarts and Harry pictured her doing something different... something more Hermione-ish. But then again, she had gotten along with her brothers the best among all her other siblings, not to mention she had the brains to pitch in some great ideas. Whatever her contributions were, he was sure she having a good deal of fun.

Parvati and Lavender were hosts of their own show at WWN. It was a Divination spot. They tried to foresee the futures of their callers and played music in between. They had a small following but they were generally thought of as a bit of a joke, really.

Harry fell silent and receded into his own thoughts as Ron went on. He heard something about Colin Creevey becoming a photographer for the Prophet and Pansy Parkinson being Draco's fiancé but something else was oddly on Harry's mind. Since they were talking about their old classmates...

"Hey, Ron... d'you mind telling me what really happened between you and Hermione? In seventh year you guys were inseparable and you were both in the ministry... I thought it'd be you two that would be together."

"Yeah... you all did. I suppose we did too. Had that entire 'opposites attract' thing going on," Ron laughed with the air of I-didn't-know-what-I-was-thinking-back-then. Then he did something very strange. He stared at Harry like he was on the verge of divulging some tope-secret information but then snapped out of it and said this instead, "Things change when you're out of Hogwarts. There are sides of you that come out that never had the chance to before... and Hermione and I... we began to see that we couldn't complement each other the way we wanted to anymore. A lot of things were different. We just butted heads a lot more and we never made up quite as well as we used to."

Harry was stunned into an awed silence at this uncharacteristic display of insight from his friend. Ron was never someone who could express his feelings very well and if he did... his words never gave the impression of much depth. Harry concluded it must have been because Ron had thought about the breakup a lot, giving him ample time to come up with just the right way of putting things. The breakup was well about a year ago and both of them were moving on but this was the first time he had heard one of them talk about it.

"But let's talk about something juicier, mate. Didn't you used to date my sister?" Ron suddenly burst out, moving his eyebrows up and down.

Harry rolled his eyes as Ron chuckled harder. Harry expected he deserved that. He was, after all, the one who brought up old flames so unexpectedly. His relationship with Ginny had certainly been the most turbulent he had.

There was a danger in their relationship that was, at the time quite irresistible... but when the tragedies of seventh year began to take their full weight on Harry, there were suddenly so many things she couldn't understand about him anymore. He pushed her away and pulled someone else in---that was Liz. She was Ginny's bestfriend at the time and played mediator when Harry and Ginny were having a row. She became close to him and gave the wrong impression on the enemy side. She was captured but this enabled her to be there when Harry faced the most important demons of his life. In the end, that made all the difference in the world.

"Why did you ask all of a sudden anyway? You don't have a thing for Hermione, do you?" Ron asked, snapping Harry out of his short flashback.

"What? No! No, of course not."

* * *

Harry never thought he'd see the day when he would meet a man more manic than Wood when it came to Quidditch. But that was before Odwin came into the picture. Practice was back on the day after they got back home to London. Harry hardly had time to unpack before Odwin started calling daily practice sessions. He said they'd better get cracking while their spirits were still high. Harry thought that Odwin had a point but he also thought that there wasn't any harm in a day off. But he suited up for practice on that bright Saturday morning without delay and headed off for their home field.

There were many reasons Harry liked Quidditch practice. It got rid of insomnia, for one. He would be out like a light when he flopped onto bed, muddy or not. His skills were honed and just the high of flying was more than enough for him to put up with its grueling time and energy-consuming nature. But Odwin's practice sessions involved a little more than just tactics and drills. He sometimes infused some unusual activities that he made them do to... "improve" stamina, determination, etc..

During Harry's first practice run, he merely just assumed Odwin was pulling some sort of joke on them all to try and get a few laughs out of them to take their minds out of the loss they had in their last match or maybe even just because he was newbie. But Harry was sorely mistaken. He even remembered asking himself how Odwin ever became captain at all. It seemed he was better suited for a bed next to Lockhart and the Longbottoms. He seemed as insane or even more so than they were.

"My bet's he killed of the other guy they were supposed to make captain. Mad, this one," Wood had whispered darkly when Harry asked that question of him two years ago.

At first Harry thought that was a bit too far fetched, especially since it came from Wood, who Harry used to think was a but cracked as well. But nowadays, Harry wasn't surprised or doubtful in the least of senses. If a man asked you to do stuff like basic acrobatics or river dancing as Quidditch practice, he was bound not to be right in the head. Harry thought they'd be more ready to join the Russian Ballet Company than win their match against the Tutshill Tornadoes in 5 weeks.

"Odwin, why do we have to do this?" Adrian Shrigger asked after Odwin explained today's peculiar instructions. Adrian's thick eyebrows were raised so high that they might've disappeared from his freckled forehead.

"It's bloody pointless, that's what it is!" Charisma Paris ran her fingers angrily through her short auburn hair.

"It's not pointless!" Odwin argued, his saucer-like eyes bulging with frustration making him resemble a surprised owl.

"Man, you're telling us to hold on to a friggin' piece o' rope while a horse drags us through a muddy field. And that's not pointless?" Bradley cried in exasperation, pointing a shaking finger at the bay coated steed in front of them. Bradley was a very tall, muscular black man and he looked very intimidating indeed as he stood there glowering at the much shorter captain.

"Oh no! It's not pointless. What's pointless is what he had us do last time: baking. To train us to follow directions, he says. BAKING! But this just takes the cake. This is no longer pointless, this is idiotic. We're like fools! I did not sign up for this!" Jeremiah Prittleby yelled, spraying them all with spit as he swung his Beater's club dangerously.

"It'll build determination!" Odwin shouted back.

"HOW?" the whole team cried in unison.

"Well, you'd be determined to hold on now, wouldn't you?" Odwin exclaimed as if this settled the matter.

"Oh great! I'm out," said Crandlewick, raising his hands in defeat.

"Fine then! Any of you walk out, you're to stay out!" Odwin threatened.

Harry and Wood were standing quietly outside the angry circle, saying a few things occasionally. Harry was too happy with his new position to dare Odwin to cut him. Wood, he thought, must respect Odwin's manic-ness despite his opinion on the captain's state of mind.

In the end, the nutter won out and they allowed themselves the humiliation of being dragged through the mud as they hung on for dear life. They got up, muttering and cursing Odwin under their breath, their bodies aching all over. They were determined, all right, determined to throttle Odwin like a rubber chicken.

After his turn, Harry valiantly struggled to push himself off the muddy ground. His body didn't seem to want to cooperate. He felt like he had no more bones in him. Maybe they had been crushed to powder during that long haul across the field.

"You made it look even worse," Raynard Thwagg, one of the reserve Chasers, muttered, offering Harry a hand.

"Not as worse as it felt, I can tell you that." Harry moaned as Thwagg pulled him to his feet, "We'd better win the European Cup; God knows how much we deserve it putting up with this rubbish."

"I hear Odwin's having us tap-dance tomorrow," Bradley joked, bounding up behind them, slopped from head to toe in muck.

"Maybe Odwin's a nutcase who wants to turn us all into dance instructors!" Shantall Bruebaker, a substitute Beater, rolled her eyes.

"We all know the first bit's true. He's lost his marbles, all right..." Adrian said bracingly.

"He can't keep doing this to us. Can't we report him to our sponsors and Mr. Torynstein or something? Team inspection isn't so far away," Jeremiah said loudly, as though hoping Odwin would hear him.

"I sure hope you're right, Jer...." Charisma shook her head grimly as Crandlewick nervously stepped up to have a go.

Harry returned home to 19 Branston Street in Godric's Hollow, smelling like a pig and slime dripping from his robes. He was so tired he even forgot to get annoyed by the small crowd of wizards who started taking pictures of him, their cameras engulfing him in blue smoke. He proceeded onward, pushed the small door of his white picket fence open, crossed the front lawn and inserted a small bronze key into the doorknob on the dark blue wooden front door.

The scent of owl droppings greeted him as he stepped inside. There were owls on every corner of his house and letters littered his once perfectly waxed marble floor. His redoubled celebrity status meant an overflow of fan mail and that his home was now officially an owl emporium. There was a clamor of owls as they struggled to get their letters to Harry first.

"Stop! Stop all of you! Just drop them into a pile and I'll get to them. Now get going! I can't attend to all of you!" Harry shouted. The owls ceased and did as they were told and most of them fluttered out of the windows and all sorts of other unlikely exits like his fireplace. Some remained perched were they were and stared at him. They probably expected a meal or something. Harry reminded himself to hurry up with that Sealing Charm so that the owls could only deliver mail through the mail slot on his front door. That way, he'd have less uninvited freeloaders.

He sighed and climbed his mahogany staircase and entered his room. He opened his wardrobe, took out a fresh change of clothes, and entered the bathroom. He was just settling into a nice bath when he heard tapping on through the shut door. He ignored it at first then whatever was making that noise gave a loud hoot that almost made Harry jump out of the bathtub.

"Hold on! Let me finish my bath first!" Harry called.

He had ten more minutes of peace when the wretched owl came back to nag some more.

"Oh all right... I'm coming, I'm coming!" Harry groaned. He rinsed, dried, clothed himself and opened the door. "What?" he snapped at the tiny barn out that was clicking its beak impatiently at him.

She pushed a letter toward him, gave more incessant hoots then flew away.

It wasn't an extraordinary one. It was sealed inside a simple white envelope. It looked like one of those the muggles used for their mail. The only thing different was that it had a strong scent of... raspberries. He was inexplicably intrigued. He went back down to the living room and seated himself on the sofa. By now Harry was used to the stench in his house that was enough to kill off a whole army. Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl, fluttered onto the armrest next to him. She was the only owl that really belonged to him among the whole lot assembled in his house. Harry slit the envelope open. The letter inside was indeed a peculiar one. It couldn't even be called a letter at all. All it had were 4 words:

I miss you, Harry.

Harry was taken completely aback. He didn't know what to think. He surveyed the letter again. He sat there, completely silent. He was dimly aware that his jaw was completely open. Then thoughts started streaming in. Was this some sort of joke one of his friends could've pulled? Was it a trick of a fan to get him to reply to one of her letters? How could he be sure she wasn't a stalker or a murderer? After all... he didn't know the letter writer. Or maybe he did? Should he just ignore this whole thing?

"What do you reckon?" he turned to Hedwig.

She hooted loudly then fluttered out of the open window behind them.

"Thanks for the help!" he called angrily after her. But as he did so, Hedwig was already disappearing into the sunset.

He stood up and moved the letter towards the fire... he was going to burn it. It was too risky not to. He had every reason to. He had to do it. But enigmatically, as if it were an inborn reflex, he pocketed it instead.