Harry Potter and Salazar's Talisman

Chapter 4

Quidditch

To reward his Gryffindors further, Harry planned a little party in the Gryffindor common room. He arranged with the House Elves to have stuff prepared so that when Harry got there, he could magic them a bonanza of snacks.

As he moved through the halls toward the tower, he was surprised Voldemort didn't appear to annoy him. Harry guessed Voldemort was trying to think of a way to get back at him.

He stopped before the Fat Lady in the pink dress.

"Password?" said the Fat Lady.

Harry stared at her. "I don't know it," said Harry. "Just open up. You know who I am."

"I do," said the Fat Lady. "But you know I won't open up without the password."

"Please," said Harry.

The Fat Lady smiled at him. "You gave me enough trouble during the seven years you were here, Harry. Sorry."

Harry looked around for a student. No one was in the Hall.

He looked back at the Fat Lady. "I'll cheat," he threatened her.

"You will do what you must," she said. "You know I can't open without the password."

Harry sighed. What a nightmare.

He apparated before the fire in the common room. Several students jumped up, startled.

"Sorry," said Harry. "The Fat Lady wouldn't open. I had to cheat."

"But, Professor," said one of the younger Gryffindors. "You can't apparate or dissapparate at Hogwarts. How..."

Several students had crowded around Harry, listening with interest.

Harry smiled down at them. "But I am the heir of Gryffindor," said Harry. "And the heirs of all the Houses can apparate and dissapparate within the school." He noticed Sean McIves and met his gaze. "Pretty sad when the Heir of Gryffindor can't even get passed the portrait into the common room, isn't it."

Sean laughed. "What are you doing here, Professor?"

"Glad you asked," said Harry. "Stand back," he told the crowd. When they had backed away, Harry raised his hand and a table with all sorts of treats and drinks appeared in the middle of the room.

"Wow," someone said.

"A little reward, courtesy of the 6 years for their help this morning," said Harry.

Students were descending from the dorms, at first curious to see what was going on then thrilled with the unexpected party.

Harry reached over a student and grabbed a bottle of butterbeer then stepped back to watch the kids.

"This wasn't necessary, you know."

Harry turned to Cindy Larsen who had spoken. He took a sip of his drink.

"I thought it was," said Harry.

Several other sixth years approached them.

"This is great, Professor," said Rufus. "Thanks."

"No thank you," said Harry. He glanced fondly around the room. "I always loved celebrations in this room. It's like being home again."

The students pressured Harry into a chair by the fire.

"Tell us what it was like when you went here," said a student.

"It hasn't changed much," said Harry. "It wasn't all that long ago that I went here. Most of the teachers are still here."

"But you got into something dangerous every year you were here," said Cindy. "The Sorcerers Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius Black, the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry laughed. "I think the most dangerous things I faced coming to school aside from Voldemort and the Basilisk was a house elf named Dobby and a DADA teacher named Gilderoy Lockhart."

Many of the students laughed. Others looked confused.

The questions continued and Harry answered them the best he could. He spoke mostly about the students he went to school with and where they were now. He told them of the Quidditch celebrations and the Weasley's trick candies. Most of the students knew of Fred and George's shop. It was as well known as Zonkos.

He mentioned how because of Voldemort, Gryffindor had lost out on winning the cup the first two years Harry had been at school.

"I thought the team was going to soother me when we won the third year," said Harry fondly. "Boy was that a celebration."

It was midnight when the portrait swung open. Many of the students had gone to bed but the older ones had remained.

"What is going on in here?" demanded Professor McGonagall.

"Just a little party," said Stan Grable.

"For what?"

"Er," said Stan and looked at Harry.

Harry stood up and turned to her.

"Professor Potter?" said McGonagall with surprise.

"Sorry, Professor," said Harry. "My sixth years did an extraordinary job helping me with Voldemort. I thought it warranted a small party."

"You call this small?" said McGonagall, looking around at the mess.

Harry bit his lip. "Sorry Professor."

McGonagall sent him a searching look then a grin. "Just don't make it too late, Professor. The Fat Lady is complaining that she can't sleep."

Harry smiled at her. "All right, Professor."

"And don't forget to clean it up," she added on her way out. "I don't want the house elves complaining."

The portrait swung closed behind her and Harry turned to Sean and Missy on his left. For the third time they shifted awkwardly.

"What-" Harry cut himself off as he finally noticed what they had been doing. They were trying to keep Harry from seeing what was on the wall behind him to that side of the common room. "What the hell is that?" demanded Harry.

Sean looked at the floor. "It's your wall, sir."

"My wall?" said Harry incredulously. He moved through the students to look at the wall strewn with pictures and newspaper articles. Pictures that Harry remembered Colin Creevy taking, articles he recalled Rita Skeeter writing.

Fragments of...

"Is that what was left of my Nimbus," said Harry, still in a state of disbelief.

"Um, yes," said Cindy.

"I'm going to kill Colin," muttered Harry.

"Professor," said Sean. "It wasn't Mr. Creevy's idea."

Harry looked at him.

"Well," explained Sean. "Apparently after you were found in the Chamber of Secrets with Voldemort, the entire house of Gryffindor decided to honor you. They created this wall, thinking you were going to die. It was created as a memorial."

Harry stared at the wall. He reached out and touched the glass over the picture of the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team converging on him after he caught the snitch that had won them their first Quidditch Cup.

Then Harry saw the blank piece of very old parchment. He laughed.

"How did they get that?" said Harry.

Stan looked at it. "What that old parchment?"

"Yes."
"Rumor has it," said Stan. "That Professor Dumbledore gave that to a Neville Longbottom to add to the case."

"Neville," said Harry softly. He searched the glass enclosure until he found a picture. "That's Neville," Harry pointed him out. "He's got a shop in Hogsmeade now. Sells all sorts of little devices and trinkets."

"Oh," said Cindy. "That's Grandma's Trunk."

Harry looked at her and grinned. "Is that what he called it?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Cindy. She looked back at the picture with a frown. "He looks a lot different now. He's lost a lot of weight."

Harry turned back to the case. "I'll have to go and see him," said Harry distracted by the blank parchment. Harry knew what it was. With that, Harry could always know where Voldemort was.

He grabbed the side of the case. "How does this open?" said Harry.

"It's sealed," said Sean. "Professor Dumbledore locked it."

Harry looked at him. "You're kidding right?" said Harry. Harry raised his hand. "Alohomora," said Harry.

The glass case sprung open.

"I need this," said Harry, gently extracting the parchment. Harry closed and locked the case again then looked down at the map.

"But, Professor," said Stan. "No one knows what that is or how to work it."

Harry sent him a "you're kidding" look too.

"Show us," said Cindy, eagerly.

Sean caught on too. "Yes, please, Professor. Show us what it does and why you need it."

Harry looked at them. There were only 8 of them left. Seven from his sixth year class and Stan, the Quidditch team captain. He grinned at them and brought it over to the table. A sweep of his hand cleared the table and he laid the parchment on the surface.

"This is the Marauder's Map," said Harry. "It was created by my father and his band of reprobate friends when they were cavorting around the school as unregistered animagi."

"So what does it do?" whispered Missy.

"Stan," said Harry. "Tap it with your wand and try to get it show its secret."

Stan tapped the map. "Reveal your secret," said Stan.

Nothing.

"Tell it who you are," said Harry. "In detail."

Stan blinked at Harry for a moment then turned back to the map. With a tap, he said, "I, Stan Grable, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Head Boy command you to reveal your secret."

Words started appearing across the page.

Mr. Padfoot shudders to think what a Head Boy would do with this old useless piece of parchment.

Mr. Moony thinks it is fortunate however that it is still in Gryffindor hands.

Mr. Wormtail agrees with Mr. Padfoot and Mr. Moony but knows how fond Mr. Prongs is of Quidditch and wonders what he thinks.

Mr. Prongs thinks that his son is having a spot of fun and does not mind at all if he has reaquired the map and wishes to show it to those he trusts.

Every student turned to him after Harry's father had voiced his opinion. Harry glanced at them. "Pretty cool, huh," said Harry.

"Show us," begged Stan.

Harry laughed. He tapped the map with the words, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

The map of Hogwarts appeared before them as did the dots identifying every witch and wizard there and where they were.

"Wow," said Lucas Wilson.

The others were equally impressed but Harry was studying the map until he found the dot he wanted to see.

"And that," said Harry pointing at the dot that was labeled Lord Voldemort, "Is why I need this map."

Everyone looked at one another with dawning. Voldemort was in his chair in Harry's classroom, obviously waiting for Harry to come back.

"He's waiting for you, Professor," said Cindy.

"Doesn't matter," said Harry. He tapped the map. "Mischief managed," he said and the map went blank again.

"But-"

"Sean," said Harry. "I'll simply apparate right to my room and he can sit there all night for all I care."

The students laughed.

Harry put the map into his pocket.

"Er, Professor," said Stan.

"What is it, Stan?" said Harry.

"Um, er," said Stan, who dropped his eyes to the floor.

Harry frowned at him and looked at Sean.

"We were just wondering, Sir," said Sean. "If you wouldn't mind coming to practice tomorrow night."

"Practice?" said Harry, looking from one to the other.

"Quidditch, Professor," said Stan, looking braver now. "Sean said that you said you could still do the dive and we were hoping - er - well - that you might show us."

"You know, Professor," said Sean. "Give us a few tips. You're still a Gryffindor."

Harry hated showing off, but the thought of flying around Hogwarts' Quidditch stadium again almost made his chest hurt. Harry couldn't help his smile.

"You want me to come to practice?" said Harry.

"Yes, Sir," said Stan. "Would you?"

"What time?" said Harry.

Both of them seemed to perk up. "7:00?" said Stan hesitantly.

"Seven it is," said Harry. He glanced at Sean who was practically beaming. "I'll be there."

Harry apparated to his room and fell on his bed. Quidditch at Hogwarts again. Harry didn't think he would ever feel this way again.

But the next evening when Harry walked toward the stadium with Hermione he got a big surprise.

"I thought this was only a practice," said Harry, noting all the people in the stands. They weren't full, but there were a staggering number of people waiting.

"Oh stop it, Harry," said Hermione. "Famous Harry Potter is going to take the Quidditch field with the Gryffindor team again. Of course people are going to come and see it."

Harry sent her an ungrateful look but she only laughed at him.

They stepped up to the team. Stan and Sean looked at him beaming with pleasure.

"Thank you so much for coming, Professor," said Stan. He glanced down at Harry's Firebolt, which was clutched in Harry's hand.

Harry held it up. "Yes I still use it," said Harry. "I don't care what people say about the Nimbus Magnum, the Firebolt is still the best."

Stan looked appalled. As if he had just insulted Harry, but Sean laughed.

Harry looked at Sean and smiled. "Getting used to my warped sense of humor, Sean?"

"Yes, Sir," said Sean. He mounted his broom. "Shall we?"

Sean pushed off the ground and soared off around the stadium. Harry looked at Hermione.

"Go on, Harry," said Hermione. "This is fun, remember."

Harry threw his leg over his broom and smiled at her. "Thanks, Hermione."

She kissed his cheek and Harry took off.

The minute Harry felt the air brushing by him, over him, through his hair, he forgot about everything else. He truly felt he was back where he belonged. He knew this stadium like the back of his hand and he raced around it just the way he did when he was Seeker.

"Professor!"

Harry stopped dead.

Apparently too fast because Sean went whizzing by him and had to come back to where Harry hovered about 50 feet about the ground. The other team members were starting to go through several tactics below them.

"How did you stop so fast?" said Sean breathlessly.

Sean was going to plug him for information. Well, Harry guessed he was a teacher. Why not.

"Is that your broom or one of the schools?" said Harry.

"It's mine," said Sean.

Harry looked at it. Nimbus 2001. Perfectly good broom.

"Ok, you have to think stop, and gently, and I mean gently, pull on the stick," said Harry.

"And it'll stop that fast?" said Sean.

"Quick, gentle but firm," said Harry. "Watch." Harry put one finger on the stick in front of him. Down. He gave the stick a gentle but firm push. His broom dropped a perfect 2 feet.

"Cool," said Sean.

"You try."

He did. Sean ended up dropping but at an angle.

"Balance is the key," said Harry. "You'll never be able to do that dive without the balance."

"Teach me," begged Sean.

Harry looked at him. His blue/green eyes were wide with wonder. Harry was hit with such a sense of pride. Was this what it felt like to teach a son? Harry had been so worried about being a father, it almost made him sick. Damn it, he just may be able to do it.

"All right," said Harry. "First, let go of the broom."

Harry watched Sean let go. The broom wavered a little.

"Feel where your balance is, Sean. Find where your spot is on the broom."

Sean shifted a few times until he could let go of the broom without it fluctuating.

"Very good," said Harry. "That's your center. Make note of it so you can mount it there."

Sean nodded.

"Now try the drop again," said Harry.

Sean did and the broom dropped perfectly.

"Wow, did you see that?" said Sean breathlessly.

"Yes, Sean," said Harry, smiling. "Let's try the stop. Keep up with me and stop when I do."

"I'll try."

Harry raced across the stadium, Sean beside him a little behind to the right. Harry stopped. Sean didn't. A few moments later, Sean was before him.

"I think I did something wrong."

"Balance," said Harry. "When you stop, pulling the broom handle up a little, lean forward to compensate."

They raced back up the other way (the other players still practicing beneath them).

This time when Harry stopped, Sean did too.

"Wow, it works," said Sean.

"Just concentrate on the balance, Sean and everything else will come easy."

"Well I doubt that, Professor," said Sean, "But you're a great teacher."

Harry looked down at the field.

"Will you show me the dive?" said Sean.

Harry wasn't sure if Sean's balance was good enough for it. He bit his lip.

"No just show us," said Sean. "I know I can't handle it yet."

"I haven't seen the snitch yet," said Harry, by way of an excuse.

"Stan hasn't let it out yet," said Sean. "He was giving me time to pick your brain."

Harry laughed at that one.

Sean swung down a few feet. "STAN!" he shouted. "LET THE SNITCH OUT."

Harry saw the golden ball buzz around for a minute then disappear.

"This is your catch, Professor," said Sean. "I'm just going to watch."

"Sean, the snitch may not even dive," said Harry.

"Doesn't matter," said Sean. "I still want to be able to tell my children that I saw Harry Potter catch the Snitch."

Harry smirked at him. "All right," said Harry. "But the next one is yours. I want to be able to tell my children that I saw Sean McIves catch the Snitch."

"Deal, Professor," said Sean.

Harry reached out to take his hand but the snitch whizzed by him. Harry spun so fast he was sure Sean was going to fall off his broom. He didn't so Harry raced after the Snitch.

There was a gasp from the crowd as the snitch did indeed dive. Harry didn't notice that everyone on the field had stopped to watch. His concentration was on the ball with the fluttering gold wings. The ground was coming up fast. Still the Snitch dove.

I've got you. Thought Harry.

The Snitch turned even with the ground.

Harry jumped up onto his broom and pulled the handle up. A foot above the ground, Harry was still right behind the snitch. He let go of the handle and stood up. He was almost there. Reaching out, Harry dove, grabbed the snitch and somersaulted onto the ground. Rising with the snitch in his hand, he held out the other and summoned his broom back.

He then became aware that the crowd in the stands had erupted with applause. Harry looked around and felt himself going red.

"That was great, Professor," said Sean skidding to stop next to him. "I wish I could do that."

Harry shrugged looking at the ground. Again, he couldn't break the habit of a lifetime. In this case - embarrassment.

Hermione came up to them with Stan. "See, I was right, he's all embarrassed again," said Hermione.

"Professor, that was great," said Sean. "I can't wait until my balance is good enough to do that."

"I'm sure it'll be soon," said Harry, trying to ignore the crowd.

"Harry was born with it," said Hermione. "The first year we were here, he could do it."

"Hermione," said Harry. He turned to the boys. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

Harry left the field. He still felt that thrill from speeding toward the snitch and catching it. It just felt different.

Harry felt the burn on his head.

"What's the matter, Harry?" said Voldemort. "You've proven you can still do that little dive of yours. Why so melancholy?"

"Please go away, Voldemort," said Harry. "I don't feel like talking."

"Something is bothering you," said Voldemort. "Tell me."

Harry was silent as he moved through the castle. Voldemort was still with him. It wasn't until Harry reached his classroom that Voldemort moved in front of him to stop him. Harry knew better than to try to go through him.

"Harry, tell me what's wrong," said Voldemort.

Harry stared at the floor, thinking of all he had missed as a child. By all rights, Harry should have enjoyed playing Quidditch with the kids. He should have loved showing off and taken pride in teaching them. All Harry felt was embarrassment.

The small pleasure he had in chasing and catching the snitch was erased by the fact that he was a man now. He wanted desperately to be able to play with the kids but no one had ever showed him. He had no example. He tried to recall the feeling he had when he had taught Sean to balance on his broom, but it wouldn't surface.

I'm going to make a lousy father.

Harry stepped around Voldemort. Voldemort didn't let him. He grabbed Harry's face. Harry stared up into Voldemort's eyes, the pain in his eyes much more than physical as he slid to his knees.

"Self-pity does not become you, Harry," said Voldemort seriously.

Harry tore his gaze from Voldemort's. "You don't understand," said Harry softly.

"Don't I?" said Voldemort.

All right, maybe Voldemort did. "Please let go of me," said Harry.

"Harry, remember what I told you in your 7^th year?" said Voldemort. "That if I took everything so seriously that I wouldn't be able to enjoy my power?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"I told you to enjoy life," said Voldemort. "You are allowed to play, Harry."