What If? - Drarry - Chapter 60: Chapter 60

Book: What If? - Drarry Chapter 60 2025-09-23

You are reading What If? - Drarry, Chapter 60: Chapter 60. Read more chapters of What If? - Drarry.

"Nervous?" Ron asked as they neared the doors of the Chudley Cannon's training centre, which was disguised as a disused theatre for the benefit of muggles.
"A little," Harry admitted. A 'Dangerous building: No Entry' didn't help his nerves as they passed under the doorway and buzzed the intercom button. "I guess we'll just see how it goes."
"Identity and purpose?" A neutral female voice sounded from the intercom.
"Harry Potter, here for tryouts, and Ron Weasley, here to support Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter?" The voice asked with a tone of surprise. Then, as if to cover a mistake, "Enter."
"I can't believe I'm actually inside the Cannons' training centre," Ron said in an awed voice, looking around at the reception. "It's a bit underwhelming if I'm being honest," He added. Indeed, the reception wasn't the grandest entrance; a dingy room with a high ceiling and desk in the corner, at which sat a woman who looked like the room, personified. They walked over to her.
"You're here for tryouts, then?" She asked. She'd been the voice over the intercom.
"Yep," Harry nodded. "Well, I am. He's keeping me company."
"I have to do a couple of security checks on you both first, I hope you don't mind," She said, and, standing up, walked around the desk to face them. Before they could answer, she had started casting spells to check for fraud charms, weaponry charms, and several others which Harry hadn't heard of, but which he was sure Hermione could have explained to him. Once she'd finished, the woman said, quietly, "So. You really are Harry Potter."
"Yep," Harry confirmed, trying not to sound impatient. The woman, in the way Harry was so accustomed to, glanced briefly up at the lightning scar, then returned to sit behind her desk.
"You'll need visitor's badges," She waved her wand at a couple of bare pin badges, and writing appeared on both of them, each reading one of their names, as well as 'Tryouts' on Harry's and 'Support' on Ron's. Passing the badges to Harry and Ron, she continued, "If you just go through the doors and turn left, you'll find the waiting room. Tryouts should begin soon. Best of luck."
They followed her instructions and soon found themselves in the room she'd indicated. About forty people were there, and the familiar ripple of recognition passed through them all as Harry entered the room. He and Ron sat down in some empty seats at the back.
"'Scuse me?" The man in the seat opposite Harry said, and reached out a hand, "Daniel Mayne, at your service."
"Harry Potter," Harry shook Daniel's hand. To his surprise, Daniel also turned to shake Ron's hand before continuing.
"Of course, I know who you both are," Daniel said. "It's a pleasure to meet you in the flesh. I'm really sorry - I'm sure you both get this all the time – but my son, he's eight, and it'd really give him joy if He could have an autograph?"
"Of course," Harry nodded. "Do you have anything I could sign?"
He took the writing pad and pencil Daniel gave him and signed it. When he'd given it back, Daniel held it out again to Ron, who looked surprised.
"You want mine too?"
"Of course! You're Ron Weasley!"
"Yeah, I suppose I am," Ron said, turning a little red and looking very pleased as he signed the writing pad.
"So, you'll be trying for seeker?" Daniel asked, putting the pad away.
"How'd you know?"
"I was in seventh year when you were in first," Daniel said. "Hufflepuff. Never actually met you, but I saw you catch that snitch with your mouth. Youngest seeker in a century, right? It's not something you forget very fast. You trying out, Ron?"
"Nah, I'm just here for Harry," Ron shrugged. "What are you trying for?
"Beater. I was the beater for Hufflepuff from third year until the day I left, and I've been playing local matches since finishing school. That's how I was scouted."
"Well, good luck," Harry nodded, and Daniel smiled.
"You too. Playing aside, the Cannons need some good publicity."
"So I've been told," Harry said, with a look at Ron.
Before long, a large man appeared in the doorway with a clipboard and asked first the chasers, then the beaters, then on to seekers, to leave the room. As they left, Ron whispered frantically to Harry;
"That's Roger Keeks!"
"Who?"
"The training instructor for the Cannons!"
Harry looked at the larger-than-life man. He was big in every direction, though he wasn't fat, and looked like the sort of guy you wouldn't get in a fight with. "What's he like?" Harry asked.
"Not really sure. But I was reading an interview with him in Quidditch Today – he pushes his team pretty hard, apparently."
Only four other people were there for the seeker position, and none of them had people with them for support. They were all older than Harry. It was making him nervous. Keeks pointed them to follow the others, and they walked down a short corridor and out of huge double doors to find themselves in the Cannon's training pitch. Ron looked ready to burst. The other huddles of beaters, chasers, and keepers were already being taken off to different parts of the field.
"Seekers, you're with me." Boomed Keeks, his accent strongly Scottish. As Keeks strode out of the door towards them, Ron gave Harry a slap on the back.
"I'll sit on the side and watch. Good luck, mate."
As he walked to the sidelines, Harry turned with the other seekers to face Keeks and waited for him to speak. For a moment, the big man simply looked each of them over. Then, he started speaking in what was clearly his 'training voice'.
"You have all been hand-picked because you show promise in your Quidditch speciality. This means you are good. But one of you is the best. Today, we are going to find out which of you that is." He made eye contact with each of them before continuing. "Quidditch isn't only about being a good flyer. It's about your ability to think on your feet, your knowledge of the game, your ability to work in a team, and above all, it is about your dedication. If ANY of you feel that you won't be able to meet the high expectations set by me, the manager, or the fans, please feel free to leave. Now."
No one left.
"Good. I'm glad to see you all followed instructions and came in clothes suitable for exercise. You will be put through three sets of tests: the first, ground-fitness to test your stamina, strength, and overall physical ability; next, you will show your skill as a seeker through seeker's games in a knock-out tournament; and finally, you will be interviewed by myself and the team's Manager, John Richardson, to test your tactical knowledge and find out more about your Quidditch background. Questions? Good. Let's begin."
A basic fitness test followed, starting off with stretching, followed a brisk jog around the pitch, press-ups, crunches, and several other quickfire exercises. Harry could keep up okay, but he was surprised at how much his stamina and strength had declined during his months of inactivity following the war. Luckily, he was naturally athletic – otherwise, he'd certainly have failed. As it was, he made a mental note to start training more often. Maybe he could start running again.
"Seeker's games are a type of Quidditch practice in which two seekers race each other to catch the snitch." Boomed Keeks after they'd had a short break. "They are an excellent way of improving your skills as seekers. You will be paired up and each pair will play three rounds. The winner of the majority of the rounds will stay on, the loser will be eliminated. This will continue until there is one overall winner. Note that winning this does not guarantee you will be selected, though it certainly helps."
Harry Won.
As they trooped back to the waiting room in anticipation of their interviews, he was met with eyes that held jealousy, surprise, and even awe. It made him feel awkward, so he concentrated on talking to Ron. They were called individually to their interviews, and so they all sat in the waiting room while each person was interviewed. When it came time for Harry's, he left the room feeling more nervous than he'd anticipated. He knew he'd done well, so to mess up now would be a big disappointment.
"Mr Potter," Acknowledged the thin man sitting behind the wooden desk in the interview room, reaching out to shake Harry's hand. "I'm John Richardson, the manager of the Cannons, and you've already met my colleague, Coach Keeks," He gestured to Keeks, who sat next to him behind the desk.
"Nice to meet you," Harry said, "Thanks for asking me to try out."
"Please, have a seat." Richardson gestured to the single seat in front of the desk, and Harry sat down. "Would you like some water?"
"That's okay, thanks."
"Let's jump straight in, shall we? Coach Keeks tell me you won the knockouts. Well done."
"Thank you."
"However, you performed... underwhelmingly in the fitness assessment. Are you simply having a bad day, or is this your best?"
"Uh-" Harry stuttered, "I think my fitness isn't what it could be at the moment, sir. I haven't been doing as much exercise as I used to since the War. But I'm certain that I could regain my fitness quickly if I trained more," He added, hoping he didn't sound stupid.
"Would you say that you are naturally athletic?"
"Yes. I like exercise."
"Do you do any exercise other than Quidditch?"
Harry bit his lip. "Not at the moment, but I used to do a bit of running."
"I see." Richardson's face was a neutral mask that gave Harry no idea how well he was doing. "It says in your CV that you were chosen in first year to play seeker for Gryffindor. That would make you the youngest seeker in, what, a decade?"
"A century."
Richardson whistled. "Impressive. And you were promoted to Captain in your sixth year. I suppose this gave you some insight into tactics?"
Harry nodded. "I had to think a lot more about the technical side of Quidditch, which I hadn't done before, so I did learn a lot that year. Especially as I had to learn about other positions, not only seeking."
"So if I asked you to describe a Dagger Formation, could you?"
"Yes, it's when the chasers form a tight arrow with the beaters on either side. Usually, it's for breaking through defense."
"Very good," Richardson smiled approvingly, and Keeks nodded slightly. Harry bit back a smile. "A lot of formation moves don't apply to seekers, but it's good that you have basic knowledge of them." He shuffled his papers before continuing. "Mr Potter, Let's be candid. You clearly have some skill with Quidditch but beyond that, you are also, well... you're Harry Potter. At a risk of sounding materialistic, having you on the team would seriously improve our support and advertisement. You need to be aware that, were you on the team, we would be using your media potential to its capacity. Do you understand that?"
Harry thought for a moment. "I understand, but I also need to make it clear that I may not always agree to every meeting, interview, and all the other media commitments. I'll certainly try, but there is only so much one man can do."
"Of course, you are only required to do as much as the other players, and the rest is your choice. I'm sure that, were you selected, we could find a balance."
For the first time, Keeks leant forward in his chair and regarded Harry.
"I push my players hard, Potter," He said. "This isn't a place for someone who's scared of hard work."
Harry lifted his chin slightly. "I've never backed down because something was difficult." He said, staring back at Keeks unwaveringly. "I'll push myself just as hard as you'll push me."
For a moment, Keeks continued to look at him sternly. Then, a smile appeared on his lips, making him look somewhat younger.
"I like your spunk, kid," He said approvingly. Harry nodded.
"So," Richardson continued, "Any questions?"
"Nope, don't think so," Harry shook his head.
"Well, just before we wrap up, I need to give you these," Richardson handed him a few pieces of parchment. "You'll find a weekly and yearly timetable, and a copy of your contract. Read everything, make sure you'll be capable of attending all sessions, and make your own analysis of your contract. You can make additions to the contract or edit the existing contract. However, we can decide whether or not we agree to your terms, just as you can decide to agree to ours. Happy?"
Harry took the parchment and nodded. "Happy. Thank you very much for seeing me today."
"No problem. We'll be in touch within a week to let you know if you got the job."
0o0o
Ron insisted on bringing Harry to a nearby wizarding pub after the interview to 'celebrate', despite the fact that they didn't know how well Harry had done yet. In Ron's opinion:
"You did great, and if they don't choose you, I'll eat my own socks."
They chose The Dog's Beard, a muggle pub neither of them had been to before but which won out over the other pubs in its area by its proximity to the Cannon's training centre. They got some drinks and chose a table in the corner.
Ron and Hermione were still looking after Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in the absence of George. They seemed to like the job quite a lot, which was good because George didn't seem like he would be ready to return anytime soon.
"It's not all bad, though," Ron continued, "He came to eat with the family a couple nights ago for the first time since Fred. I wasn't there, but mum wrote to me."
"That's reassuring. And Hermione's okay with the joke shop?"
Ron sighed. "She's okay with it for now. I think she finds all the things Fred and George made really interesting, I mean, they are really magically advanced. But you know her. There is a lot she wants to do, and I don't think the shop is going to cut it after a while. She'll stay until she thinks George will come through okay, but after that, she has other plans."
"You okay with that?"
"Oh, yeah. No way I'm gonna hold her back."
Ron fell silent, and Harry didn't fill the gap because he could see that Ron was thinking.
"I love her, Harry," Ron started. "I mean, I really love her. It scares me sometimes. And I'm amazed that she actually loves me too – I have no idea why she does. But she does." Ron broke off and smiled. "Harry, I wanted to ask you first, you know, because you're my best mate."
"What's up?" Harry asked, though he had a feeling he knew what was coming. Ron took a big breath.
"I want to ask her to marry me." Then he added, "What do you think?"
Harry smiled. "I think that's great, Ron!"
"You think she'll say yes?" Ron asked, nervously.
"'Course she will, she loves you!"
Ron grinned, looking as though a weight had been lifted off him. "Okay," He nodded, as though confirming to himself. "You'll be best man, of course."
"It would be an honour," Harry grinned. "How are you going to do it?"
"Not sure," Ron shrugged. "It needs to be really special. You know how girls are: They like their sentimental gestures."
"Have you met her parents yet?"
Ron nodded. "They're nice. We get on."
"That's good. Maybe you should ask Bill how to do it. He's the romantic in your family, right?"
"Good idea. Maybe I could ask Fleur too, seeing as she's, you know, female."
"Sounds like a plan," Harry grinned. He lifted his glass.
"To love."
Ron chinked their pints together happily. "To love," He confirmed.
0o0o
"How did it go?" Draco asked as soon as Harry apparated into the flat.
"Pretty good," Harry smiled. "Ron thinks I'll get the place. And guess what?"
"What?"
"He's going to propose to Hermione!"
"That's amazing! Do you know when?"
"No, but I'm sure we'll find out very soon."
"Exciting." Draco stood up from where he'd been reading on the sofa, and walked over to Harry, handing him a piece of parchment. "Read this!"
Harry unfolded the parchment and read. His eyes widened.
"Draco! This is great!"
"Well, it's just an interview, so let's not get too excited," Draco said, smiling, "But yeah, I'm pretty pleased."
"So looks like we're both on the way to having jobs," Harry grinned, handing the letter back to Draco. "Who'd have thought, eh? And I guess I have you to thank for the whole Quidditch thing: If you hadn't told me to volunteer, I might never have been scouted."
"Well, I think you made it back to me. You know? By helping me be not-homeless?"
They laughed, and the feeling of being in control of their lives – which neither was accustomed to – grew within both of them. It was security, and it felt good.

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