Destiny Finds a Way

Chapter IV - Puddlemere United V.S. The Tutshill Tornadoes

Renewed by the fact that in a short month's time... he would be holding the girl of his dreams in his arms once again gave Harry such an air of blissful contentedness that it was almost impossible to wipe that gleaming smile off his face.

"Doesn't it hurt, Harry? You're always smiling," Ron asked as stepped into Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor in Diagon Alley.

"Nope... I just feel so light! I'm going to have her back! After so long, I'm going to have her back!" Harry mused.

"You can't be sure of that, mate," Ron reminded him once again, shaking his head hopelessly. They had been debating on this topic for the whole day and it was getting extremely tiresome.

"Ron, this is a sure thing! Who else can it be?" Harry looked at his best friend as though he was a bit slow in the head as they took their seats in one of the tables.

Ron opened his mouth as if to tell him something but closed it again, on better judgment. He bit his lip and was silent for a while before saying, "Ah, never mind. Believe whatever you want to believe."

Harry grinned even wider. Then a short waitress sauntered towards them in a bored manner. She looked as if she were in her late twenties, she had atrocious light brown hair and her whole face was covered in freckles. She was chewing some Drooble's Best Blowing Gum in her mouth so loudly that it sent goose bumps of disgust through Harry's body.

"Welcome to Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor, may I take your order?" she drawled, not taking her eyes off her notepad.

"I'll be having a Knickerbocker Glory and... Harry, what're you having?" Ron asked across the table.

"I'll have a banana split," Harry replied.

The waitress' ears perked up in amplified intrigue and looked at the men she was serving. At the sight of Harry's face her mouth opened so wide that the blue gum she was chewing for what looked like three months dropped from her mouth onto the cold floor beneath them. She ducked down to retrieve it and rose back up, red as a beat. Then to Harry's and Ron's repugnance, she popped the bacteria-packed gum back into her mouth.

"Y-you're Harry Potter! The Harry Potter!" she stammered, completely star struck.

"Yep, that's him, all right, missy... now---" Ron began but was cut off by the macabre little waitress.

"I have posters and pictures of you all over my bedroom! I'm in love with you!" She squealed, pointing and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Now this was more than Harry wanted to hear. His eyes widened in appalled shock at her statements. He didn't know what to say or think.

"I've got to take a picture with you!" screamed the girl and then she did something that Harry never dreamed possible from any right thinking person on the planet. She pulled him right off his seat, hugged him round the middle and then started pulling him out into the street to get a picture taken with him, screaming at everyone that Harry was her boyfriend now. Her audacity was alarming.

"Ron! Help!" Harry cried. The whole restaurant was watching him struggle against the lunatic who was hauling him with the strength of a bull. But Ron seemed as if like he was in the middle of looking winded and in the brink of laughter. Harry cursed his indifference within himself. Somebody---anybody---help him!

"Harry, Darling! So this is where you've gotten!" came a voice from the back of the restaurant. Harry looked around. It was Hermione. She eyed him as if telling him, "play along with me".

Then she did something that shocked Harry as much as the becrazed fan still pulling on his arm. She kissed him. There was a strange electricity that coursed through Harry's body and he was feeling a sensation of a queer happiness. But whatever this sensation was, he forgot it in the flurry that came next.

"Excuse me and who are you?" exclaimed the waitress, pushing Hermione away from Harry, narrowing her eyes into such slits that Harry wondered if she could still see.

"I'm his girlfriend!" Hermione lied.

"She's---?" the waitress looked at Harry pleadingly, slowly letting go of his arm.

Harry nodded, not sure if he could find the voice to say anything right at that moment.

"And who are you?" Hermione glowered in mock anger.

"I-I well---" the waitress looked from Harry to Hermione then to everyone in the restaurant who was looking stunned and awestruck, almost as if she was beginning to realize exactly she was doing and where she was. She then sighed (or was it a sigh? Harry couldn't tell) then started marching back toward the kitchens.

Then to add to the conspiracy of it all, Florean Fortesque came out in a towering rage and started yelling at the top of his lungs at his employee,

"HORACIA BLUBBERCUP, WHAT IN MERLIN'S BEARD DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!" his eyes were popping.

"I was just---I'm so sorry!" Horacia then burst into tears, turned back around and ran screaming out into the street.

There was a long awkward silence wherein everbody tried to take everything in. Then Florean, sounding embarrassed at his outburst, said in a tiny voice, "Harry, I'm so sorry. Horacia was one of my best staff members---I don't know what made her act the way she did! But you can be sure that when she gets back that she will be dealt with accordingly!"

"No... no it's all right. Don't fire her. Just... just give her extra work or something and tell not to do this again," Harry muttered slowly. He pondered why Florean hadn't come to his rescue sooner... but he suspected he had been watching too. Harry glowed scarlet at the thought of it all.

"You can be sure!" Florean huffed then added politely, "You're orders are on the house, I'm truly sorry for this catastrophe!"

"No... it's all right. I've sort of lost my appetite for now. Maybe later?" Harry smiled.

"Of course... of course... ah it seems but yesterday you were thirteen and I was helping you with your homework on Goblin rebellions!" Florean grinned widely, clapping Harry on the shoulder before shuffling off to deal with Horacia.

"Let's go," Hermione said, leading them outside.

"Hermione... why---?" Ron instigated but Hermione gave him a look then suddenly, he understood and a smug smile crept across his face.

"Is there something I'm missing? And Hermione, you didn't have to kiss me---all though I appreciate your salvaging me from that nutter," said Harry.

"There isn't anything you're missing and I only kissed you to... uh... make it more convincing," Hermione replied quickly as though she wanted to get off the subject as quickly as possible.

Harry opened his mouth to say that her merely saying that she was his girlfriend would be more than enough but she raised her hand to his face and said, "Not another word. Just a 'thank you' would be fine."

Harry was peeved. Now he was going to have to put up with reporters and fans asking him about his "relationship" with Hermione.

"So... how's the department, Hermione?" said Ron trying to break the awful silence that had ensued between Harry and Hermione.

"Hectic. Gathaka---our Head of Department---went and eloped with Willdur Bromm, she's left the whole department in disarray and now I have to take up all the slack!" Hermione ranted. She was so cute when she ranted like this...

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, eyes as wide as they could get. How---wha---? Did he just think what he thought he just did?

"Harry? Harry what's wrong? You look odd," Hermione looked concerned.

"It's... nothing. Nothing," Harry shook his head and continued walking. His friends eyed him in consideration.

"I'm fine! Come on... let's go back to the Cauldron. I'm suddenly not in the mood for any more gallivanting." Harry smiled to make them stop looking at him like that.

This seemed to have done at least some of the trick because they smiled back at him and they continued walking.

But Harry wasn't really fine. He was a bit---there was no other word for it---freaked. This was getting weird. First the kiss and now... this? This had to be some sort of off day or maybe he just slipped into the Twilight Zone, Harry tried to convince himself. This was nothing. Nothing at all. And with that, Harry shoved the disturbing thought to the back of his mind.

They took a table in one of the shadowy corners of the shop to avoid attracting any more unwanted attention.

"So... has Remus finalized the date of his wedding?" Hermione asked as one of the waiters took their orders.

"I don't know. In his last letter there was something about the twenty-seventh... that's a month from now," Harry murmured,

"I still can't believe he's getting married," said Ron in awe. The waiter scuttled off.

"He's marrying Tonks, isn't he?" Hermione knitted her brows, trying to remember, looking a bit ashamed that she forgot.

"I know. Bit of a job they're going to have. I wonder if they're up to it. Him being a werewolf and her... well... her being... a bit off," Harry rested his chin on the palms of his hands.

Ron snorted.

"A bit off? That woman's a menace. Fine couple they'll make. I can imagine the rows they'll be getting in!" he said, making ridiculous growling noises.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and he fell silent. "That's going to be hard. Where's Remus going to work? Where are the children going to stay when he changes? They can't be near him. I mean... he can't risk biting his own children," said Hermione, being the worry wart that she was.

"I think they've got a lot of time to plan for that, Hermione. Besides... I think they're going have them stay over at a friend's house before he transforms and doesn't she know how to make Wolfsbane Potion?" said Ron.

"Barely," she muttered.

"Why do you always do that?" Harry asked Hermione, looking straight into her brown eyes.

"Do what?" Hermione furrowed her brow.

"Worry all the time," muttered Harry.

"Somebody has to," Hermione said, grabbing one of the mugs of butterbeer that the waiter was setting down on their table. Harry grinned at her answer. He didn't know why. He just did.

"When can I book you for an interview, Harry?" Hermione inquired after taking a long draught from her order. At this, Ron made a lot of strangled coughing noises as he drank. His eyes were dancing curiously. Harry raised an eyebrow at him but he merely looked away. What was wrong with him?

"I don't know. After the match?" Harry said distractedly. He was still trying to decipher Ron's expression which was midway between a scowl and a smirk. He looked so... odd.

"That works for me," Hermione nodded. There was something about her suddenly. More than she was letting on.

* * *

Everyone was tight-lipped that morning of the match. No one could utter a sound. Harry felt like he would get sick if he did try to say anything. His hands were shaking as he gripped his broom. They were all sitting round in the locker room, waiting for Odwin to say... anything before trooping out onto the field but he was currently pacing every corner of the room. He would open his mouth as if he was finally going to say something once in a while but he would shut it again, getting paler each time he did so.

In the end he gave up and just gestured them to get on out there. A couple of the players looked as if they were about to pass out or at least wet their pants.

Before Odwin opened the doors that lead up to the field, they mounted their brooms for the traditional flying entrance.

"Let's go," murmured Odwin, finally able to say something. His expression was hard to read. It was a mixture of dread, excitement, confidence and grimness. But it was all put out of Harry's mind when Odwin threw those doors open. Harry and his team kicked off from the ground and flew into the field as their names were called.

They received their applause graciously and waited for their opponents to make their entry.

"Introducing the Tornadoes---Rithe, Jinggo, Mathias, Fothbart, Uron, Jesse, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannndddd... LOMBARR!!!!!" bellowed the commentator as the crowd sent off their warm-up cries.

Harry's nervousness was at breaking point by this time. What if he forgot everything? What if he mixed up the signs? What if he forgot to look for them? What if he gave it all away? What if he did it all wrong?

In no time at all though, Harry was forced to abruptly halt all of these questions that were tearing at him from the inside. The Quaffle was thrown up in the air and the game began.

"The Quaffle taken by Rithe... stolen by Wakjobe---blimey did you see that interception?!---Wakjobe passes to Paris... now Shrigger who avoids a bludger sent by Fothbart---good duck---Shrigger is coming up to the goals... Jesse tries to block but Shrigger SCORES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" roared the commentator. But this was the last time he was able to form complete sentences.

It was as if everything leading up to that first goal was just a heat up. Everything became increasingly fast paced. Indeed, it was one of the fastest games Harry ever played in. All he could see were blurs everywhere. It was a good thing they had practiced so much or else Harry would never have been able to read the signs being signaled him.

"I've never seen anything like this! This is---this is amazing! I can hardly keep up! It's Wakjobe---Shrigger---dodges a bludger by Mathias---Jinggo---Paris---Wakjobe---Shrigger---back to Wakjobe who dives around Lombarr---Paris... going left.. now right... AND SCORE!!!!!!!!!! Puddlemere leads The Tornadoes by 20!"

Odwin signaled the team to kick it into overdrive. He was getting impatient and wanted to end the game.

Harry zoomed around the field trying to look for the snitch or any indication from his teammates on where it was. But everyone else was increasing in speed, scoring more goals than Harry had ever seen any team do in a minute, that they were too busy to multi-task.

"GOOD LORD! That has to be some kind of record---10 goals in one minute! This is---this is extraordinary! Such speed, such coordination!" cried the commentator, forgetting to tell the spectators what was happening on the field. But he didn't need to. It seemed that everyone on the field was temporarily dumbstruck at what had just happened and couldn't hear properly at all.

Harry grinned. He saw the snitch zipping 70 feet below him. The other team was too frantic trying to get at least one goal in because they seemed to have resigned that this was one match they were not going to win. Plus, their Seeker was looking in the wrong direction. Harry dived, feeling as though he were ripping through the wind with his body. The viewers seemed to have snapped out of their trance and drew a collective breath as Harry continued to plunge downwards.

Harry's felt the pressure mounting as he neared the snitch---and the ground. It never seemed so solid and so daunting. He gripped the handle tighter; for fear that his sweaty palms might slip and mess up the dive. Harry felt its vibrations triple. He had managed dives before---they were his specialty---but never this high or this fast. Harry took a deep breath and tuned out the sound enveloping him and concentrated on his thoughts.

Ok... almost there... get ready for it... NOW!!! Harry lifted one handle off his broom, caught the snitch, pulled out of the dive and spiraled upwards, shaking the snitch above him as he did so.

The crowd went insane. The stood up as one (even the Tornadoes' supporters) and cheered so loudly that Harry wouldn't have been surprised if the racket they were making reached the muggles. The commentator was so bowled over that it took him several minutes before he could squeak the results of the match.

"P-Puddlem-mere United w-wins 270 t-to 0 over the T-Tornadoes... spectacular... spectacular."

With that, Odwin lead his team around for a victory lap. It was bliss. The crowd was screaming itself hoarse but Harry hardly heard. He flew but he hardly felt it. The wind blew across his face and his hair tickled his forehead... but he couldn't care less. Everything was so right... so perfect...

It was only on their third lap around the stadium that Harry was able to tear himself away from the intensity of his high spirits and spot something that was both tremendously great and atrociously awful at the same time... Hermione and Liz sitting beside Ron and Seamus.

He almost hit Charisma who was flying ahead of him because of his staring. He was glad Liz had come to see him but he hated her for having him wrapped around her slender little finger. And when he looked at her Hermione, resplendent in robes of figure-hugging, lilac silk with silver intricacies embroidered on it... he remembered the kiss... it made him feel very wrong indeed and his stomach started churning, as though it was grinding his intestines into putty. He didn't like it.

All of these were ruining his moment---his day in the sun. Why now? Why now?

His friends, noticing he was staring at them, mistook it for him trying to catch their eye and waved energetically at him. He could hardly lift his fingers from his broom because he felt that if he did, he'd slip and fall to the hard earth below him. But he thought he was able to mange a small wave. He didn't know anymore. His brain was getting addled.

Harry knew how pathetic he was, hiding out in the team tent all this time but he knew well and good what he'd have to deal with if he didn't. And honestly, he just didn't want to have to deal with it. He didn't know why. If his theory about the letter was right, he shouldn't need to be hiding in the sea of celebration and masses of laughing people crowding inside their tent. But it was so different... than what he had imagined in his head... as things rarely are.

Everyone was so happy. Bottles of all kinds of drinks were being uncorked everywhere, spraying them all with an assortment of liquids and loud popping noises were heard every five seconds. The grins were so wide they could all have modeled for a muggle toothpaste commercial. Flashbulbs were going off simultaneously, engulfing them in blue smoke as they went on with their merriment. And the laughter was so crisp it was deafening.

Harry would've been a part of that but he was too busy being paranoid. He had been asked many times to come join in the festivities but he had refused so many times, they had learned not to bother with him anymore. As of now Harry was looking over his shoulder every chance he could, to see if Liz was there. He knew he must look like he had some sort of neck problem or something but... he just... didn't want to see her. Which was so strange since he was supposed to be trying to win her back.

He grabbed a bottle of butterbeer and a chicken leg from the buffet table and sat down on one of the wooden chairs in a shadowy corner of the tent that was still mercifully unoccupied. He sat and ate as he looked. He found that his mind wandered less on things he would rather not think about when he just observed people.

Adrian and Bradley were arm wrestling in the middle of the tumult. There was Odwin, drunk as anything, chasing after every woman (beautiful or ugly alike), trying to grab their buttocks. Wood and Charisma were trying to draw the attention of the media towards them by giving interviews so that nothing less than flattering about their other teammates would end up splashed on the cover of every paper tomorrow. The rest of his teammates were huddled together in a circle with their friends laughing so hard some of them were crying of mirth. Social climbers were seen skirting around anybody who was anybody. Some people were just obviously there for the food.

Harry almost smiled as he caught some of the words of one of Raynard's jokes but it was getting hard to concentrate so he just sat there, gaping as time trickled by in its slow torpor... and then his head began swirling and it suddenly became increasingly hard to chew the chunk of chicken he had just bitten off. Everything started spinning itself into a whirl of color... the sounds were melting into each other... going on and off... on and off... buzzing... buzzing... buzzing... buzzing...

"Harry? Harry, are you all right?" echoed a distant voice.

Harry's consciousness snapped back into proper operation. Everything was coming back into focus. The sound that was reaching his ears was one he could recognize. He could see figures moving freely across his vision... they were a bit hazy at first but they gradually became clearer. And it was at this point he identified the person who had disturbed his trance.

It was Hermione. She looked faintly worried, her hair falling across her face, escaping the holds of her ponytail. Her eyes were dancing.

He opened his mouth to try and mumble something to her but she merely just put her forefinger to her lips and said,

"Get up and follow me... I think you need the company."

She grasped his hands gently and led him out onto the camping grounds. There was as much celebration outside the tent as there was inside. But they were headed, it seemed, into the woods.

Harry was still suffering from the after-daze that he didn't even bother to ask about what Hermione wanted to talk about. He let himself be steered through the thicket, the sounds of the campsite vanishing slowly with every step they took forward.

Then Hermione halted in a familiar clearing and sat down, hugging her knees. Harry sighed and lay down on the ground, the soft grass tickling his sleepy face.

"Harry, why have you been so evasive of us lately?" Hermione murmured.

"Evasive? What're you---"

"Oh don't even try, Harry," Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Harry turned over so that he lay on his back and tried to concentrate on the small patch of sky that shone in between the leaves above him. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Why did this always happen to him? It was getting increasingly peeving.

Hermione pursed her lips, was silent for a moment then heaved a great sigh of understanding.

"It's Liz, isn't it?" she said quietly.

Harry shifted his gaze toward her but still said nothing. Hermione's eyes were no longer dancing.

"You don't have to say anything. It's always her," she grinned. There were so many things hidden in that small grin but Harry didn't see it. The moonlight was not enough to reveal its secrets.

Harry didn't know what to say to this pronouncement. Was Hermione being bitter? Observant? Humerous? ...Hermione was never vague like this usually. She was mostly blunt and frank.

"I was supposed to interview you," she exclaimed, regaining her typical air of business, which made Harry's spirits ebb away even more as he remembered the promise he made. "But I spotted you in the tent... and... well... I didn't think that it was the right time anymore."

Harry sat up, furious at himself for feeling the way he felt for Liz, for being so pathetic, for being so paranoid, for forgetting his promises, for being so blind, for... loosing himself.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione---I'll make it up to you. I will!" he said, clapping himself on the forehead.

She merely smiled once again and nodded simply.

She understood so well. Was that something women were born with? Her passivity over his mistake and her comprehension of his illogicality made Harry want to hug her... hug her and let her relieve him of the weighty burden that had settled itself in his chest... hug her and just let it all go...