The End

Additions to Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has anything to do with Alias, which was created by J.J. Abrams. This chapter title is lifted from the song "The Scientist" by Coldplay.

Chapter 9: Nobody Said it was Easy

"Come on, Harry, you stay in bed much longer and you'll miss the match," Ron said as he sifted through his trunk.

"It can't be morning already," Harry said, his face still buried in his pillow. To an outsider the statement might have sounded like in cohesive mumbling, but Ron had been rooming with Harry long enough that he was able to figure it out anyway.

"Oh, yes," Ron replied. "In fact, its way past morning, it's almost five in the afternoon. Your game starts in half an hour. I figured you'd want to be awake for it."

"What?" Harry demanded, sitting up and grabbing his glasses off the nightstand in one slick movement. His next attempt wasn't nearly as graceful: he tried to stand up and put his glasses on at the same time, but by now the adrenaline had set in and he only succeeded in tangling his foot in the blankets, falling in the floor, and poking himself in the eye. When he finally managed to pull himself together he found Ron choking on his own laughter while he sat on his bed in his pajamas and Michael attempting to show his disapproval of the joke while still chuckling. Harry grabbed a nearby balled up sock and threw it at Ron, hoping it was dirty, then went to dig some robes out of his trunk.

Harry was permitted to bring as many guests as he desired on the team transport, but it was decided that only Sydney and Michael should go with him, so the configuration of their team would not be so easily discernable to anyone who happened to be paying attention. By the time five o'clock actually rolled around, Harry, Sydney and Michael were sitting in the front of the bus finalizing their strategy.

The bus ride was riotous, except for Harry, Sydney, and Michael's row. The Muggles had their heads bent over one of Ron's maps of the pitch, cunningly bewitched to look like a snippet of newspaper from a distance. Harry's trip was marked by an increasingly sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, which made itself painfully manifest in the form of a rising lump in his throat, and whenever the bus hit a bump Harry wished he'd skipped breakfast and lunch.

When they arrived at the stadium, Harry was ushered off to the locker rooms with the rest of the team, while Sydney and Michael made their way to their seats. It was the first time they had been anywhere in the Wizarding world without Harry, Ron, and Hermione with them. Even though Harry had checked their anti-Muggle repelling charms by making sure they could see the stadium as they approached, it was still a tense moment. Since they couldn't actually use their wands, they were nearly defenseless if they got in trouble. Even all their training in hand to hand combat seemed useless, as that form of defense could be defeated in as long as it took for a wizard to say "Locomotor Mortis." For two CIA agents, who were used to being at least partly in control of a situation, the feeling was very unsettling. However, they made it to their seats without incident and a few minutes later Ron and Hermione took their seats directly in front of them. Ron, Hermione, and Sydney started scanning the crowd with Omnioculars while Michael watched for any suspicious movement nearby. They weren't having much luck, however. The first places each checked were the most expensive seating, the places with the best view of the pitch. If Malfoy was there, he wasn't making himself very easy to find.

***************

Harry hardly heard the captain's pep talk as he slipped shakily into his robes. He was being stupid, he informed himself, he hadn't been nervous about a Quidditch match in years, and this was no time to start. This wasn't so different from the countless matches he'd played at Hogwarts. The Kestrals were riding on a fifteen year losing streak; no one would blame him if he missed the Snitch in favor of the greater mission, although Ron would probably be even more disappointed than Harry. Just like old times. Still, there was rather more than simple victory or defeat riding on this match, and rather more people watching.

It was a minute before Harry realized that he was trying to put his gloves on the wrong hands and a minute after that before he noticed he'd forgotten to lace up his boots first, an impossible task with the thick leather gloves on. Sighing, he tugged off his gloves again, hoping he'd manage to pull himself together before he messed up something important. However, no such luck seemed forthcoming: he flew out onto the pitch with the rest of the team, but no sooner had the announcer called out his name than his stomach made such a forceful bid for the ground that Harry was momentarily concerned he might not be able to remain airborne, but his Firebolt behaved as though nothing was different and he soared around the pitch. Soon, the heaviness in his stomach was gone, replaced by the elated feeling that characterized his flights.

The players took their positions around the center of the pitch and the Snitch and Bludgers were released. Harry tried to watch his target as if flew off, but it passed in front of a light and he lost it in the glare. As he turned back to the referee, Draco Malfoy caught his eye and sent one of his best sneers. Oh yeah, old times.

***************

Ron, Hermione, Sydney, and Michael's search was augmented with the final preparations before the match, and they paid careful attention to anyone who cheered especially loudly when Draco Malfoy was announced or looked especially angry at Harry. However, in general the exact opposite was true. Malfoy actually had to dodge a few curses while he circled the field with his teammates. They also hadn't expected the overwhelming positive response when Harry entered the field. They should have perhaps been ready for it, as Harry was currently the greatest hero of the Wizarding world, whether he liked to admit it or not. As it was, when Harry was announced, the crowd surrounding the rest of the team surged to its feet, catching the group off guard and conspicuously still in their chairs. Hermione managed to catch a glimpse of Harry in her Omnioculars, looking bewildered and overwhelmed. Finally, the crowd settled back down, the players took their positions, and the referee released the Quaffle.

The result was instantaneous. The crowd was immediately back on its feet in a chorus of cheers and boos as the Wasps managed to gain possession of the Quaffle first. However, the Chaser didn't keep hold of it for long; he took a Bludger to the stomach and dropped the ball.

The game continued in a similarly intense fashion, giving the entire group, but Ron especially, trouble staying focused on their task instead of the action. Lucius Malfoy was still elusive. They had chosen their seats specifically so that they were facing the side supporting the Wasps and were able to see as many people as they could. Still, with five thousand Witches and Wizards in the stands, any of whom could be Malfoy in disguise, the task was daunting to say the least. They had hoped they would be able to find the man without help from Harry, but it seemed that was truly impossible. Sydney reflected the lighting off her watch, a signal for help that Harry had agreed to watch for. In the meantime, Ron left for the other side of the stadium, hoping to get an alternate view of the place.

Since he was on the lookout for shiny objects anyway, Harry noticed Sydney's watch right away, and changed from watching the Snitch primarily to dividing his attention between the search and Draco. His opponent seemed as intent on the game as Harry was supposed to be, and didn't give away any hints for a few minutes. However, eventually an opportunity presented itself in the form of a foul against Harry's team. As the Chaser took the penalty shot, Draco ceased his search and, in true Malfoy fashion, chose to show off with a few vertical loops on his broom. Harry was utterly unimpressed, loops were, after all, one of his own favorite ways to ease his nerves mid match, but then Draco stopped and looked into a nearby part of the stands as though to see if someone had been watching him.

This interested Harry immensely, but he didn't have any time to investigate any further himself, as the match had started again. Instead, he spent a few moments carefully looking for the Snitch, then, pretending he found it, shot off at full speed, pointed exactly at the location Draco had looked, in a modified Wronski Feint. This caught most of the crowd's attention, but when Harry pulled up and displayed his bluff it was to the groans of most of them, but not to Ron, Hermione, Sydney, or Michael: that was the signal they had been waiting for. Strangely enough, the area that Harry had indicated was only a few rows behind them. Hermione, Sydney, and Michael were unable to take a closer look without arousing suspicion, so Sydney went to follow Ron in pursuit of a better angle. Before she reached her destination, however, she intersected the Wizard, who was running to find her from the other side of the stadium.

"Did you find him?" Sydney asked, turning around to follow Ron in the opposite direction.

"Yeah," Ron replied, slightly out of breath from his race around the pitch. "He's a teenager, about my age, brown hair, tall..."

"You're sure it's him?" Sydney asked, surprised.

"If you'd have see his face after Harry almost barreled into him, you'd be sure too. He looked like he wanted to grab a Beater stick and send the nearest Bludger after him. Not to mention the fact that he didn't bother disguising his sidekicks."

"We'd better hurry, then," Sydney said, putting on an extra burst of speed.

They ran in silence for the next few hundred feet, until they passed a group of stairs leading to the stands and Ron chanced a glance into the stadium.

"Oh, no," he said, immediately sliding to a halt.

"What?" Sydney asked, coming back to meet him.

"Draco's spotted the Snitch, he's tracking it," Ron said. "Harry's on him, but he won't be able to hold him off for very long."

"Let's go!" Sydney exclaimed, now running at full speed and preparing a syringe full of the radioactive substance that could trace Malfoy's location back to the Death Eaters' headquarters. She arrived at the section about thirty seconds later, and for lack of a better way to get where she needed to be, started climbing the scaffolding. Ron arrived a few seconds after her and eliminated her need to climb herself by simply using Wingardium Leviosa to lift her.

Sydney started examining the feet of the people she passed, requiring her to manipulate her position greatly, but Ron called, "Please hold still, this spell is only supposed to be used on inanimate objects, it takes a lot more concentration to use it on something that moves."

When she saw the amount of effort he was forced to put into this seemingly simple spell she immediately ceased her attempt. When she was lifted to the correct location she took hold of the nearby scaffolding to steady herself and hopefully take some of the pressure off Ron.

"There's one person about your size surrounded by two people who are a lot bigger. The middle one sounds like a real egomaniac," Sydney called down to Ron.

Ron tried to tell her that she had the right person but only made a grunting sound, so he simply nodded, then closed his eyes, trying to focus his concentration. A second later he fell to his knees.

Sydney pulled the cap off the needle with her teeth and waited for the moment when Lucius would be sufficiently distracted for her to give him the injection without his noticing, all the while feeling herself growing steadily heavier against her supporting arm and leg.

Suddenly, the crowd exploded in cheers and Sydney jabbed the needle into Lucius' calf. A split second later Ron's support failed and she had only her grip on the scaffolding between her and falling to the ground fifty feet below. She felt Ron trying to levitate her back to the ground, but he was struggling. The last spell must have taken too much out of him.

"It's alright, Ron" Sydney called. "I'll climb down."

"No," Ron replied, "it'll take too long. The game must be over. In a few seconds people are going to start flooding out of those stands and, you can't be up there when they do."

Sydney was descending as fast as she could, but was still about forty feet up. "Listen," she said, "I don't know if you can hurt yourself while you're doing a spell, but it seems to me like you almost did. If I just let go, neither of us might walk away from this."

Sydney usually didn't allow herself to panic on missions, but she couldn't avoid considering how difficult it would be to concoct a worthy excuse if she was caught half way up the scaffolding behind the stands.

Suddenly, she heard Hermione yell from a little ways away, "Sydney, let go!" Without any other options, she did as she was told, and just before she thought the impact would come she stopped and was straightened to her feet before being lowered the final few inches to the ground.

"You alright?" Hermione asked as she brushed by.

Sydney was shaken but fine, so Hermione left her to Michael and went to help Ron. He was still on his knees, his head in his hands. Hermione managed to get him to his feet before they were surrounded by people.

She pulled him to a more out of the way location before asking, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ron replied. "I think so."

"What'd you do that for?" Hermione demanded, speaking to his feet.

"Do what?" Ron asked, confused about how she could possibly be angry with him right now.

"You used Wingardium Leviosa, didn't you?" Hermione said, pounding her fists into his chest, but when he tipped backwards weakly from the force she caught his arms and pulled him back onto balance.

"Yeah," Ron shrugged. "It was all I could come up with in about two seconds. It's kind of an old standby of mine, see."

"Elevatum, use Elevatum next time," Hermione suggested, looking at his feet again.

"Oh, right," Ron sighed. "Hey, Hermione..."

"Yes?"

"I don't think I can Apparate."

"That's fine; we'll take the Knight Bus," Hermione replied, blinking rapidly.

Ron tried to take a step, but his legs gave out. Hermione managed to steady him.

"I don't think I can walk, either."

"What gave you that idea?" Hermione asked jokingly, pulling his arm over her shoulder and taking his waist in her other hand.

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Who caught the Snitch?"

"Harry did. Malfoy was so mad."

"Nice."

***************

Since the Kenmore Kestrels were celebrating their first victory in years, Harry, Sydney, and Michael couldn't get away from the after party for some time, but when they did they found another one waiting for them at Hogwarts when they met up with Ron and Hermione. They were all ecstatic. Word traveled fast in the Wizarding world, so most of the students already knew of Harry's victory and he was the subject of many roaring cheers as he made his way through the castle, a real feat since it was well past midnight and the students were supposed to be in their dormitories.

However, Harry maintained that the real victory went to Ron and Sydney, for being the ones to carry out the true mission. Ron was still a little out of it, but didn't need help walking anymore. They forced him to see Madam Pomfrey anyway, who said that he would be fine after a good night's rest, but made her opinion that he should never try such a stunt again quite clear. Sydney seemed fine to most of them, but Michael insisted that she was still quite rattled. Even so, none of them seemed very keen on sleeping that night, so Hermione went to the kitchen for some food and Harry braved Hogsmeade to get Butterbeer. They sat up until the early hours of the morning, eating, drinking, celebrating, and recapping the different parts of the mission for those who didn't have the benefit of observing them. They were lucky the next day was a Sunday; none of them would have been able to serve any helpful function to the school if it was asked of them.