A Different Kind of Scar

"Hello, Harry. Hello, Ron," Remus Lupin said.

"Hello, Professor Lupin," Harry and Ron said.

"Please, no need for professor, remember I am in the Order," Lupin stated taking his hood off.

"May I ask why you are here?" Harry asked Lupin after a silence that seemed like an eternity.

"Yes, we know about you and Voldemort and how you met him. We would like-" Lupin said but was cut off by Ron.

"We?" Ron asked.

"Yes, we," Lupin nodded toward the door, where Moody stood. "We have to know about Voldemort. Everything he said and did, we need to know."

Harry and Ron gladly told Moody and Lupin about their meeting with Voldemort. They told them about the duel with the Malfoy's and how he and Ron had followed Voldemort through the portal. They told them everything they could remember about Voldemort. It took the better part of two hours before Lupin thought they had enough information.

"Well thank you, Harry. Thank you, too, Ron," Lupin said nodding his head. "Is there anything else that you wish to tell me that you can think of?"

'Did he know' Harry thought to himself. He couldn't possibly know about the dreams. No one could read his mind. 'No... no Lupin didn't know' he told himself silently.

"No I think that is pretty much it. Right, Harry?" Ron turned toward his best friend try to think if there was anything else to tell them.

"Yes there is one thing you should know," Harry said quietly. "I have yet to tell this to someone. It happened last night. I had a dream. Voldemort was in it and he was asking me to join him. He told me he'd kill me if I didn't. I know the prophecy about one of us will die, but I can't help thinking it will be me. I don't know how he got into my dreams in the first place because I've become the best there is at Occlumency."

"Yes, there is no doubt that you have become the best ever at it. I don't think Voldemort or even Dumbledore could read your mind. Actually, in my mind you have become the second most powerful wizard ever. Second only to Dumbledore you are, but you have mastered things Dumbledore hasn't and you are a third of his age," Lupin stated.

It hit Harry then. He really was one of the most powerful wizards alive. He was one of the most powerful wizards ever. He didn't know why people would act afraid of him, or sometimes run. It was because of his power.

"We think," Moody cut in, "That Voldemort was trying to talk to you and that is all. We don't think he was trying to hurt you in anyway."

"What are you talking about?" Ron yelled. "All Voldemort has wanted to do, and has failed on many occasions, is kill Harry! What do you mean you don't think he meant any harm?"

"We think he really does want Harry to join him. We don't think it is because he is afraid. We think it is because he realizes the powers Harry has. He knows if Harry would fight with him, they would be almost invincible, even to Dumbledore," Moody stated. "This is enough for both of you for one night. Both of you have just begun your journey in the Dark War that is about to start. Goodbye and goodnight to both of you." Moody and Lupin bowed and left Harry and Ron alone in the living room.

"Do you think we should tell Hermione about my dream?" asked Harry not sure if it was a good idea or not.

"I don't know," Ron admitted. "What do you think?"

"I think she'd know what to do. She always does when we needed her," replied Harry hoping he was right. That night Harry sent an owl to Hermione that invited them up to Harry's house for the weekend. Hermione quickly replied yes, but she still seemed different from the fight that she and Harry had at the Ministry of Magic.

Ron spent the night at Harry's, for which Harry was glad. Too much stuff had gone on that night for him to be alone. Harry had a much harder time falling asleep that night. He couldn't help to think that Voldemort would try and kill him soon.

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Harry awoke the next morning to a knock on the door. He quickly got up and remembered that Hermione and Skye were coming for the weekend. He reached the door and opened it up to greet the visitors.

"Skye how nice to see you," Harry said giving her a hug.

"You, too," she said back to him.

"Hermione," Harry said softly just nodding to her.

'Well it is good to see you, too, Harry,' she thought silently to herself. She was taken back that he didn't even greet her properly. Anger rushed through her, but she didn't show and replied, "Harry."

Harry led them into the kitchen where he made some breakfast for the four of them, because Ron had woken up. Harry had told Hermione and Skye everything that Lupin and Moody had said to him. He also told them about the dream he had and asked if they had any advice.

"Harry, I think Moody is right on this one. I think Voldemort was trying to get you to turn over to his side," Hermione said.

"Well I don't suppose you could tell me why," he replied.

"No, that is what confuses me, too," Hermione said, trying to think of any reason for this bizarre event.

"Well, Harry and I have practice today for our match tomorrow. You guys are welcome to come with or you could stay here," Ron said. He looked at Skye hopefully.

"I'll come," Skye said. Ron led her upstairs to get his things and they left a few minutes later.

"I think I'll stay," Hermione said to Harry. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted her there or not anyway.

"Ok," he replied because that was all he could think at the moment. He retrieved his practice stuff and left posthaste.

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The practice was a light one. The chasers went through most of their plays. Coach even decided to throw in a few 'trick plays' as well. As usual, Winterborn and Storm, the team beaters were goofing around. They were seeing who could hit the bludger at each other the hardest. The coach saw them, but he didn't say anything. He had gotten used to the two of them goofing around.

'You really can't help it' Harry thought to himself as he watched the two of them.

Ron was blocking shots from some of the substitute chasers, the chasers' coach, and the assistant coach. Harry had let go four snitches today. He usually only does one or two on a day before a game, but on regular days, he does three or four. The team had huge stashes of practice snitches. Harry had caught two of the snitches already.

He saw a glint of gold hover over on the other side of the pitch. He soared straight for it. It started to weave in and out of the stadium. Harry reached out and caught the snitch right over Skye's head. She was sitting in the stands watching the practice and jumped when Harry caught the snitch right above her.

"Harry! You scared me," she said laughing.

"Sorry, 'bout that," Harry replied grinning. He didn't mean to scare her, but he couldn't help thinking about doing it again.

"How many you catch so far?" she asked him.

"That is number three, one more," he said as he was about to go look for it.

"Hermione still likes you, you know," Skye said softly. Harry suddenly stopped his broom and turned to face her. "I know she does, and she knows she does. You just have to make her realize it."

"And how do I do that?" Harry asked her, hoping for an answer but knowing he probably wouldn't get one.

"If you haven't figured that out by now, you are hopeless," she said laughing and shaking her head in disgust. Harry opened his mouth to say something to her when he was interrupted by the coach's whistle.

"Potter! Let's go! Stop talking and practice!" he called to him. Harry flew away not saying another word to Skye.

After Harry caught his fourth snitch, he headed into the locker rooms. The rest of the team was already there.

"What are you going to do the rest of the day?" Ron asked him as he was putting on his shoes.

"I don't know yet. I might go out, I'm not sure," Harry replied. He wasn't sure if he wanted to spend the rest of the day near Hermione or away from her. It didn't take long for him to make his decision. He chose just to go home and relax for the game tomorrow.

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The next morning was miserable. It seemed like thunder sounded and lightning brightened the sky every other second. Harry's first thought was the quidditch match might be canceled. What am I thinking? They never cancel quidditch. He left his room and hurried downstairs into the kitchen. He was surprised to see Ron sitting at the counter already devouring a bowl of cereal.

"Don't you ever do anything at your house?" Harry asked Ron. Harry was nowhere near angry with Ron for coming over. In fact, Harry was used to Ron being over ever since Skye came to visit.

"Looks like it is going to be a nasty one today," Ron stated to himself more than to anyone.

"Sure does. Is Skye coming to the game?"

"Yea, she is bringing Hermione, too," Ron said looking up at his best friend. He wasn't sure if Harry would find that as good news or as bad news.

"Whatever," was all Harry was able to say to Ron's statement.

The two ate the rest of their breakfast in silence. They started to focus on the match today. It wouldn't be easy; it was against Russia, a powerhouse at both ends of the pitch. This would be their greatest challenge of the season. Harry was done eating before Ron, and he went to his room to retrieve is uniform. As he opened the door, he was surprised by the visitor waiting to meet him.

"Dobby! What are you doing here?" Harry asked, not too angry.

"Dobby, must see Harry Potter, sir," came the reply.

"Why? Don't tell me you are trying to save my life again," Harry joked.

Dobby smiled, slightly embarrassed, but he knew Harry Potter too well now to think Harry was angry at him. Dobby and Harry had become good friends over the years. When one needed the others help, the other was only too glad to be of any assistance. "No, sir. I just wanted to wish Harry Potter luck, sir."

"Well, thanks Dobby. Are you going to the match today?" Harry asked, knowing Dobby came to a few matches every now and then.

"Yes, I've been following Harry Potter for the whole season. You are playing amazing, sir," Dobby exclaimed.

Harry looked towards the clock. It read 10:30. 10:30! I have to get going now or I'm going to be late! "Sorry to rush you, Dobby, but I must get going or I'll be late."

"It is quite alright, sir. I will go too," Dobby stated. And, as he had done on countless occasions before, Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared. Harry grabbed his equipment and apparated to the stadium.

Once at the stadium, Harry was relieved to find that he was not late. The team meeting had not started, and Harry hurried to get dressed. Once dressed, he sat down next to Ron the moment before the coach entered the room.

"Okay, everyone, you know the drill. This will be our toughest game of the season. I know you all know that, but that shouldn't intimidate us. Go out there and give it your all! Bring it in!" The players looked confused. This had been the coach's shortest speech ever by about fifteen minutes. The team finally put their hands in after the moment of confusion.

"On three," the coach continued, "one... two... three..."

"TEAM!" each and every player shouted. The team walked out of the locker room and mounted their brooms. In just a few moments, the team was flying around the stadium.

The rain came down hard as thunder roared and lightning cracked all over the place. Visibility was extremely limited. Harry also took into account the wind which was overpowering. It would be hard to maneuver with this great of a wind force. Harry laughed silently, as he saw that the stadium was filled to capacity. No storm can keep them away, Harry thought to himself.

The teams took their positions for the beginning whistle. The bludgers flew from the containers as the snitch followed closely behind. The quaffle rose up, and the whistle sounded. The two teams took off like busy bees. The announcer's voice chimed in over the speakers.

"And it is Russia with the quaffle. Vladimir Gustov, the Russian captain, has the quaffle. Gustov passes to Commendor. Commendor flies around a bludger and streaks toward the goal. He shoots, and the quaffle goes through the center hoop! Russia scores first! Weasley almost had that one as it glanced off his finger tips. France is now in possession. Blew throws it to Fisher, who gives it to Hicks, who gives it back to Fisher. Fisher shoots at point blank range and scores!"

The crowd erupted as the French international team recorded their first points of the match. "Commendor has the quaffle. He passes to Zitezef. Zitezef has speed, and he is showing it right now. He is dodging the bludgers hit at him with ease. He shoots and scores! What a play by Zitezef. Hicks has the quaffle, and he passes to Fisher. Fisher throws to Blew. Blew shoots and that shot is saved! What a save by Gladovik."

Harry watched, squinting from the heavy rainfall, as he hovered high above the pitch. The wind was even stronger than it was at the start, and the rain came down heavier than Harry had ever seen before. Harry knew he'd have to catch the snitch for France to have a chance. Russia was greatly overpowering the French team already in the early going.

"Zitezef has the quaffle. He passes to Commendor, who shoots. He scores! Russia is now up by a score of 30-10. Hicks has the quaffle. He passes to Fisher. No! The pass never made it to Fisher. Zitezef intercepted the pass and shot it before Weasley had a chance to save it. What a play from the young prospect, Zitezef! Fisher passes the quaffle to Blew. Blew dodges a bludger and passes to Hicks. Hicks has the quaffle right in front of the goal. He shoots and... scores! Nice shot by Hicks."

Harry searched intently as he glided around the pitch. He noticed Vassili Mrolina, the Russian seeker, was following him everywhere he went. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. His first thought was dementors, but he noticed it was just him getting cold from his soaked clothes. Harry was looking around high above the action when he saw a bludger being aimed right at Ron.

"Ron! Watch out!" Harry yelled as loud as he could, hoping Ron would here him.

Ron looked up at Harry and turned his head just before the bludger hit him. Ron spun his broom around and the bludger brushed off his cloak.

"Thanks for that one, Harry. I owe you," Ron replied in gratitude as Harry flew down to him.

"No problem," was all Harry got to say before he noticed Mrolina on the move. On instinct, he accelerated to full speed after Mrolina. He gained on Mrolina with ease and found that Mrolina was going to his bench for a quick drink of water. 'You have to focus, Harry. If he was chasing the snitch, you would have lost.' Harry told himself as he tried to concentrate on the match.

"The score is now 230 to 140. This marathon of a match has lasted for over four and a half hours. The Russians are out to a large lead as was expected in the match. Surprisingly, the French team has kept the game within reach. The French knew they'd need to catch the snitch if they were going to win. Hicks has the quaffle. He passes to Fisher. She speeds up, and she dodges a bludger. She shoots and scores! What a nice play by Fisher. Commendor has the quaffle. He passes to Zitezef. Zitezef, the leading scorer in today's game, gives it right back to Commendor. Commendor shoots and scores! The Russians respond to the French goal by scoring one of their own. Fisher passes to... and the pass is intercepted by Gustov. Gustov shoots and scores! The score is now 250 to 150 in favor of the Russians."

"Hicks is now in possession of the quaffle. He soars high into the sky to avoid the defense and tries a shot. Not too tough of a save for Gladovik. He gives the quaffle to Commendor. Commendor brings the quaffle up the pitch. He passes to Gustov. Gustov shoots from extremely far out. The shot goes in! What an amazing shot! Gustov put an enormous amount of speed on that shot, and the curve the quaffle had was unbelievable! That is why Gustov is one of the top chasers in the league."

Harry blocked the announcer's voice out. He wanted his concentration solely on the match. So far, neither he nor Mrolina had seen the snitch once. Harry glanced at Ron, then towards Mrolina. He jerked his head back toward Ron so hard he thought it might have broken. There, next to the goalpost only three feet off the ground, a glint of gold caught his eye. He went directly into a dive towards the golden object. In an instant, Mrolina had begun a dive to follow Harry.

Harry quickly gained ground on the snitch. He was twenty feet away when Mrolina pulled out of his dive. Harry, curious, turned his head to see why. He saw why. A bludger came hurling right at him. He tried to spin but the bludger still hit him hard enough in the side to knock him well of his course. When Harry regained his direction, the snitch was gone.