There was usually very little space in Harry's mind for doubt. Whether he was trying to outfly dragons, finding monsters roaming in schools, or hunting dark wizards, it was a luxury. Not that he never doubted himself. But that doubt was usually overcome by a mind-numbing sense of urgency.
As days crept closer to the match against Hufflepuff, for the first time in a long while he just felt nervous. There was no "I don't have a choice anyway", or "better put those feelings aside so you don't die", kind of atmosphere to the whole thing. So at night he tossed and turned, he found himself perusing school books for critical information he could have missed, he kept looking anxiously over his shoulder in between classes. Luckily all this didn't impair his flying ability, as his time training was one of the few where the anxiety would melt away.
The other times he could relax is when he would steal away a few minutes with Lily, just giving in to his teenage self who lost all self-control when she walked into the room with one of those hidden mischievous smiles. At times he had to really wonder where this school romance aspect had gone so horribly wrong his first time around, because if he had to judge by his one and only experience, school romances were the very best thing in the world, maybe even just one step above flying a broom.
They were alone in an empty classroom with the Marauder's Map open next to them to see anyone trying to brave the locking charm they'd placed on the door, when a very silly thought popped into his head. Mainly, Lavender, he was starting to look over the events of his 6th year a bit differently.
"Sounds like her mother should have warned her more about teenage wizards," Lily said with a smile.
"You including me in that?" Harry said.
"Are you having a laugh? It's getting to the point where I can barely have a conversation with you without you giving me that look – yes, that look!"
"Hey, now. You're the one who started making a habit of remembering every broom closet on the way back to the dorms just a few weeks ago," he said smugly, his kiss muffling her laughter.
"Well that's just being practical isn't it? One of us has to be the practical one, say for instance by remembering the classroom schedules and researching locking charms that won't be broken in a second."
They stopped talking for a bit, as talking got in the way of more interesting things to do with their time. They were occupied in such a way, when something caught his eye, namely, her eyes.
"Lily, your eyes. They're… different."
"You know I love the sweet talk, but you don't have to stop to do it," she groaned in frustration.
"No, I'm being serious, they look brighter, fluorescent."
She cocked her head in an 'are you really doing this right now', kind of way. But then she narrowed her eyes and looked closer in his, their noses touching. Foregoing her wand she waved her hand at a bucket that lay forgotten on top of the teacher's desk and transfigured it into a mirror. She first held it up to her face, closed one eye, then looked past it into his.
"Here," she said, standing next to him and pressing her cheek against his, and held the dragon egg sized mirror up before them. Side by side it was obvious, Harry's eyes were less saturated, while Lily's gleamed like gemstones. "I'm not sure if it's yours or mine that changed," she said.
Harry was a bit preoccupied being giddy at how good Lily looked pressed against him, but if he had to bet, he would say both of their eyes changed. "You think we should be worried?" he asked.
"I – I don't think so. I mean, you know how things are, magic and eye colour sometimes act funny like that," she said relaxing against his shoulder. "I like your eyes now, but I don't care what colour they are. Brown, blue, purple, white, yellow –" She turned the mirror back into a bucket and tossed it aside. "– let's pick up where we left off."
-sSsSsSsSs-
Quidditch practice had been fairly laid back since it resumed, that all changed in the last days before the match. Luci apparently also had time-bending powers as she was now probably sharing her consciousness with Oliver Wood. She had put together intricate diagrams on how to utterly annihilate the Hufflepuff team. This was a bit overkill, and McConnell and Filby had started a routine of proclaiming their deathly fear of the 'Hufflepuff Menace'.
Luci, while not oblivious to it, didn't comment. Her anxiety, of course, had nothing to do with the upcoming match, same as Harry. The Quidditch Cup was just another reminder that soon she would be moving to Germany, and feelings which had been pushed down came back to the surface. It became very difficult for him to not remember her in a billowing red dress whenever their eyes met.
But those moments were rapidly cut short by the constant presence in Harry's mind of the uncertainty before them – the four of them, as it always was when he was thinking them. Every spare moment was spent in obsession over Keldran's library, frantically trying to move towards a goal they couldn't even perceive, at least not yet. He tried to induce more dreams, to get even a sliver of information. He even took some poppy seed infusion(a suggestion from Severus), trying to trigger it, but instead ended up having a dream of Dumbledore and Lily on brooms trying to catch the sorting hat, which was flapping its rim like floppy leather wings.
In no time at all the day of the match had come. Lily gave him a kiss for good luck before skipping off to meet Remus, James and Sirius to get good seats for what essentially was the final match for the quidditch season. Luci guided them to the pitch with a serious expression. Darcy was joking around with Reg, no doubt trying to hide his own nerves. The two beaters were arguing with each other ("You better not muck this up"). Harry was surprisingly calm. There was a finality to this, it all appeared to tie the hectic school year into a neat little bow.
When they appeared, the stadium erupted in a roaring cheer, setting the warming spring air on fire. Luci failed to suppress a smile, and they kicked off to face their opponents. Harry had faced off against worse teams before, and he had also been on the opposing side of that equation. The Captain and Chaser of the opposing team, an athletic but youthful looking boy with dirty blonde curls, was sweating profusely, and somehow managed to fumble the handshake between Captains. Luci didn't let it get to her head, she was stone-faced and ready to go. The Slytherin team scattered at the whistle having taken control of the quaffle, leaving the opposing team in their dust.
Harry was caught between two opposing feelings. Frantic to get an early sight of the snitch, but worried about ending the match early and leaving everyone unsatisfied. As he toured the grounds, he realized he was worried about nothing. The glare of the low-hanging sun would make spotting the snitch a real challenge. The commentating announced the fifth goal for Slytherin, putting the game 50-0 in a matter of minutes. For a second he felt left out, he didn't even have to be here, and wished he was in the thick of it with the rest of them.
He shook away that nonsensical thought. His seeker instincts took over and he maintained an eagle-eye view of the field. He had no idea how much time had passed, but the faintest glimmer appeared on the north-west side of the stadium, not too far from the Hufflepuff seeker. Harry feigned a casual search back to the Hufflepuff goals and as soon as he had the advantage of distance, darted forward, and heard the commentator excitedly follow his movements.
The snitch had whizzed lower to the field, and he weaved between the hoops to follow its frantic path. He'd seen the behaviour before, it was a nervous snitch, and so he had his work cut out for him. As soon as he gained on it, it shot at a sharp angle back to the other side of the pitch. Straight up it went, back forwards, towards the hoops, needling between the hoops again, and below the stands. The rough flying was taking its toll, and he was getting worried about tiring out before the other seeker.
To his relief, his opponent was sluggishly trying to follow, tired and frustrated. It was to be a one-man show, and he'd give them one. The snitch snaked upwards out of the lower stands and straight above the crowd, he followed it, it turned around and he flipped his broom and himself in a Cadwell-Reverse. The crowd gasped as he sped back up an inch above their heads. He could hear it, it was rare to hear a snitch's singing as it tried to rev up its magic to escape, but he heard it. Forgetting about his eyes, he followed the whirring instinctively, as it whizzed over his shoulder, to his right, almost sending him barrelling into a surprised Hufflepuff beater.
The Nimbus 1500 was being taken to its absolute limit. His heart thumped in his chest. It was just him and the snitch, playing a dangerous dance of speed and reflexes. It was, by all measure, a perfect catch. It went over his shoulder again, and he took the chance, kicked off his broom backwards and caught it, he was 200 feet high. He extended his hand and called the broom to him, it rocketed towards him and he caught it 50 feet off the ground, levelling it in a heartbeat saving him from broken bones or worse. The adrenaline receded quickly, and he fell off breathing heavily on the grass, holding the golden prize.
He could barely breathe as he was hoisted up by his teammates, who enveloped him into a group hug and carried him on their shoulders. The sound of his breath was heavy in his awareness. Finally he realized it, and a manic laugh came from his throat. He had done it, Slytherin had won the Cup.
The crowning of the winner would take place in the Great Hall. Slughorn was standing proudly beside the Cup next to a very sour looking Professor McGonagall. The thing was just as massive as he remembered it, wholly gleaming silver emblazoned with the House heraldry. After the handing over of the Cup, Slughorn extended it with a huff towards Luci, who had tears of happiness in her eyes.
On the way back to the common room, he noticed congratulations levelled at him from more than a few other students. The younger Slytherin, but more surprisingly, the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor too.
"You've made quite the impression," Luci said.
"Yeah," he answered in disbelief, "what's going on?"
"You're joking?" Reg said. "You made the catch of the century. Even the enemy team couldn't keep their eyes off you."
"What?"
Darcy laughed and put an arm around him. "Seriously, you can drop the act. I didn't even know brooms – let alone people – could do that."
But Harry was genuinely surprised. He'd been much too preoccupied with winning to notice the reactions around him. As they were accosted half a dozen more times on the way, he realized that – if only for today – he had become the hero seeker of Hogwarts. He had to laugh, thinking back to his very first idea as a Slytherin. So much for keeping a low profile.
They were barely a foot inside the door when Nathan(supposedly a Prefect and paragon of virtue) popped open a crate of icy smoking bottles of butterbeer, and another containing firewhisky. He gave them a wink. "Old Slughorn got our backs, no teachers are interrupting tonight."
Luci kissed him on the cheek while Harry gaped at the sight before him.
"Ground rules," said Nathan, "hard stuff only for 5th years and up. No pipeweed inside, and keep your shirts on. Now, let's celebrate!"
"This is crazy," Harry said.
"There's no party like a Slytherin party," Reg said, popping open a butterbeer.
To Harry's unending surprise Severus grabbed two and put one in his hand. "I have to say, I'm no fan of quidditch, but even I was impressed you pulled that off without breaking your neck."
"I'm a little… confused at what's happening."
"Oh, right, I forget you haven't been here until this year. It's been five years since Slytherin won. No one on the team today has ever held that cup."
Luci and the rest of the team were hoisting the cup in question, repeating the simple chant of "we won" over and over at the top of their lungs.
"Go join them," Severus said with a grin. "Something tells me in another reality that cup wouldn't be in these dungeons today."
There was alcohol, but Harry having made plans already for this very evening tried to keep things more or less decent. It wasn't easy, with Regulus making sure his hand was never empty and shots appearing seemingly at random around him. Every Slytherin in the tower had been intent on congratulating him and the team. A few beers later, he shot a glance at Luci, who was singing some horribly out of tune song he couldn't recognize about quaffles and, he assumed, waffles.
First thing was the hard part. He went to find Regulus who was already quite plastered, and speaking about the state of the team next year. "Hey, come with for a bit," Harry said.
Reg nodded and excused himself. "What's up, superstar?"
"Didn't want you to freak out but… I was going to take Luci aside for a second, and the boy's dorms are the only pace – now don't give me that look. I got her something, 'cause she's leaving, you know."
Reg slowly nodded, unable to hide his suspicion.
"I just didn't want it to be weird," Harry said.
"It is weird," Reg said, "but I get it. I didn't want to say anything, but it seems like you're not really used to having friends like this."
He shook his head. "You guys have been great."
"Hey," Reg said, clapping Harry's back, "it's all right. I know you wouldn't try anything, even if I don't really have anything to say about it."
"Thanks, Reg," he said.
"Night's not over," Reg answered with a wink, and went back to the heart of the party.
So he had his go-ahead. He couldn't fool himself. Try as he might the gesture still felt incredibly intimate, not without reason. It was easy for him to see how he could fall for Luci in another life. He shook himself, and found her chatting with Nathan and Carmen, another 7th year. Uneasy about butting in, he waited until he could catch her eye, and called her over with a nod. She looked slightly puzzled, but she joined him as casually as she could manage.
"What's up?" she asked.
"Just come up with me," he said awkwardly, and they went up to the boy's dorms. She didn't say a word the whole time, not when he went over to his bed and took out the carefully wrapped package. He looked at it for a second, hesitating one last time. With a sigh he handed it to her.
"It's… stupid. I just got this idea at the party and, well, if you don't like it – you don't have to. It's a going away present. Go ahead."
She opened it and unveiled the picture of everyone at the Slug Club. The whole gang and everyone else who was there. She smiled.
"Turn it over, like a portrait."
She did and her face changed to surprise, she closed her eyes. "Does it mean anything?"
"I just thought… If it's not a good idea, I can remove it if you –"
"No, it's perfect. A perfect lie, isn't it?" she said, smiling again. She looked over the changed picture, of the two of them, him in dress robes and her in her red dress. It showed her eyes red with tears and it looped into her looking up at him, and them laughing. "Almost..."
"So, you like it?"
"Being reminded of you every time I look at this picture? I can't think of anything more cruel."
He closed his eyes in regret and a ball formed in the pit of his stomach. It had been a mistake, he knew that, but… His eyes shot open as he felt lips clumsily pressed against his. She'd caught him off-guard, and she finally got it, her kiss. She pulled away as quickly as she had lunged at him. "I – you –" he stammered.
"I was always going to get what I wanted," she said with a grin, "even if it's just a silly little lie."
"Well…"
"Thanks for the gift. You know that's the thing about being sorted in Slytherin, Harry. Nothing's ever good enough for us, we have the highest highs, and the lowest lows. I guess in this case it's a bit of both."
"I know the term's not over, but thanks for everything, Luci."
She drew a heavy breath and sat at the foot of his bed, regarding the picture. He joined her and for a moment they sat there in silence. A calmness settled over him, it was like a chapter of a very long story had finally been turned.
"You're hiding something, aren't you? You're talking like you don't know if you'll be there tomorrow, you do that quite a bit I've noticed."
"There's something I have to do," he said, looking down, "and I have more reasons not to mess things up now than I ever did. I just. Please, don't ask."
"You'll let me know you're still breathing, somewhere down the line?" she said with a wistful look on her face.
"I will," he said, giving her a hug, the kiss of moments ago now a lifetime away.
"Good luck, Harry, whatever it is you do... wherever it is you go."
"Thank you. Just… thank you."