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The Brothers of War by elfandtroll
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The Brothers of War

elfandtroll

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry, the books, and the bank account. She deserves it!

Chapter 10 - The Red Headed Troll

Dawn had come, its light struggling through the pounding rain and murderous thunder that had been Harry's companion through the night. He had tried clearing his mind the night before, but the nightmares still found their way through. He could still see the images and feel the pain, 'running to the veil and peering around the other side, only to find Voldemort rather than Sirius; Hermione lying unconscious on the floor while Ron struggled to remove a putrid, decaying brain from his face; Dumbledore appearing only to say he was sorry, that he had wanted to tell him this would happen, but Snape had asked him not to...'

Wonderful, just bloody wonderful, he thought. Besides such balmy weather, no sleep, and a throbbing headache that leeched through his entire body, he had Quidditch try-outs today. Yeah, Snape must have phoned this one in…

"Crap!" Harry exclaimed as he rolled out from under the warm covers and his feet landed into a puddle of freezing water. "Great…." he muttered as he traced the leak across the room. Eventually he found the offending crack where the deluge outside had found its way in around the window frame. With a quick "Reparo" and "Evanesco" he grabbed his things and headed to the showers.

** -- ** -- ** -- **

Harry's stomach felt a little better as he walked with his Firebolt across the mud-covered field to the Quidditch pitch. Some tea and a couple slices of toast had seen to that. While the headache was still hanging on, it had diminished to a manageable level.

Since try-outs weren't for a few more hours he had thought some flying might be just the thing to help clear his mind. As he neared the pitch, he noticed a light shining from under the door to the dressing area. Curious as to who else might be crazy enough to be out in this storm, he pulled the door open and ventured through.

Inside, Harry found a very determined looking Ginny shouting at her brother, "I'm trying out for chaser Ron and you're not going to stop me! I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much, and just who else do you think…"

"Ok," Ron interrupted, standing with his back to her while drawing a play on the board. "I'm not going to try and talk you out of anything, Ginny. I think you'd make a great chaser. Besides, you're right. I don't know any other Gryffindors who said they might try out."

"Oh…" Ginny replied, the wind releasing from her sails. Here she had spent all night preparing to fight it out with her over protecting brother, and now the git had gone off and just agreed with her. Men!

As Ron turned from the board to look at her, he noticed Harry had wondered into the room. "Hi, Harry. What brings you down here at this hour?"

"I was about to ask you the same. I mean, you are Ron aren't you? The same Ron I room with? The one whose bum it practically takes Fluffy to oust out of bed in the morning?" Harry retorted as he stood dripping into a growing puddle.

"Yeah, yeah, joke all you want. I've been here since before dawn trying to plan out some sort of strategy for us. So what's your excuse?" Ron asked.

"Couldn't sleep. I didn't even notice you'd left this morning." Staring at the rain running down the outside of the room's single window, Harry added, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No. I had my own problems keeping me awake," Ron responded as he looked over sheepishly at Ginny, "I guess I'm just nervous about try-outs and all."

"Right then," nodded Harry, "Ginny, how about we get in a little practice before the others show up?"

"Sure, Harry," she said as she picked up her broom and headed for the door. Pausing in the open doorway, smiling, she turned to her brother, "and Ron… thanks."

The rain hadn't diminished in the least as the two slogged their way out onto the pitch. As he looked out at the soup like field he decided it might not be any dryer flying through this, but at least it would be a whole lot cleaner. Handing a Quaffle to Ginny, Harry asked, "How about we practice being chasers, all right?" Looking at him with a bit of a concerned look, Ginny was busy thinking that she would have to inform Hermione again about Harry's sleeping problems. With a simple nod of her head, she mounted her broom and rose into the sky.

Their practice quickly evolved from simple passing drills to what an unknowing onlooker might perceive as a blood match. Harry may have had the speed advantage with is Firebolt, but Ginny, being the petite girl she was, had the advantage in maneuverability and was sweeping the sky with him. One particular move she was quite adept at, was her "pluck and roll". Coming up under Harry from behind, she would start her barrel roll around him. Tugging on his leg or robe as she passed, he would instinctively dodge to the opposite side where she would be waiting to reach in and knock the Quaffle from his grasp. Completing the roll under him, she would then snatch the loose Quaffle as it fell. Deceptively simple in description, this was a move that required precise broom handling, and Ginny could carry it out in the blink of an eye.

They had been doing this for some time when they noticed Ron, Katie Bell, and Colin Creevey rise up to join them. Since Katie and Colin had both been chasers from the previous year and, quite frankly, Harry was growing tired of being made to look silly by Ginny, he floated over to Ron at the three goal rings.

"Ron, why is it Ginny is so good and it's only now she trying out for the team? I know I'm not that good of a chaser, but bloody hell!"

Ron looked over to Harry with an expression of pride, "I guess between the twins and I we must have been a little… I don't know… a little much I suppose. She certainly had no trouble with you I see," a smirk growing on his face.

"Yeah, well I don't think we need to look much further for our third chaser. Ginny's got my vote," Harry quickly added as he watched Ron dive and miss a goal shot made by his sister.

With the three chasers now keeping Ron rather busy, Harry decided it only fair to even it up a bit by charming a couple bludgers to act something like boomerangs. With them he was a one-man army of beaters and, as was soon apparent, he was having far too much fun in this new role. The rain that was still pouring from the thundering clouds seemed, from the chaser's view, to suddenly have been transformed into a torrent of bludgers. Harry practically laughed himself off his Firebolt as Colin and Ginny nearly sandwiched Katie when the two speeding bludgers crossed in front of them.

The chasers soon got their revenge however, when Harry was spun upside down by a return bludger sent by Seamus, who had popped out from inside the clouds. Thinking he was lucky to have avoided this dastardly sneak attack, Harry had just righted himself when he was forced to spin around again when Dean appeared to take a shot at him from below. Holding their sides from laughter and as they slowly approached Harry, Dean called out, "Hey, Harry. You were such a target out there all by yourself, it was like you were begging to get dumped. Sorry, but we just couldn't pass up the chance!"

"Yeah, I suppose I was," Harry chuckled as a very flustered Ron and the rest of the team flew up.

"Oi, Harry!" shouted Ron, "I didn't notice, it's already an hour past the start of try-outs. Dean, Seamus, how many others did you see waiting down below? We need to start getting them organized and…"

"Park your dragon, Ron. There's no one else down there, unless you count Hermione sitting in the stands. You mean no one tried out?" a surprised Seamus asked.

"I guess not… except for you two," a very depressed looking Ron said, nodding at Dean and Seamus, "it's just been us up here. Well then, I guess that narrows it down. Welcome to the team, " he said, extending his arm out to shake their hands.

Throwing his arms up in defense, Dean sputtered, "Whoa, mate! We just came down here to see who had tried out, not to actually try out ourselves. We find it a much more enjoyable experience when we're in the stands providing needed… ah… coaching, rather than… ah… actually taking a bludger to the head."

Ron just sat there for a moment, thinking. Gradually, he started to get a very determined look about him and eyeing his two roommates, he stretched his arm out again, "Like I said, welcome to the team. You're not about to let Slytherin win by default, are you? It's you two or… who else? What do you say then?"

Seamus and Dean looked to each other, around the group of expectant Gryffindors, then back again. With a subtle shrug, Seamus reached out to take Ron's hand, "You make a convincing argument, mate. I guess we're the new Gryffindor beaters. I hope we don't regret it."

"I think I already do," said Dean with a nervous eye towards Ginny. He and Ginny had exchanged owls a number of times over the summer and they were hoping to keep it a secret from Ron. Well, this would give them more opportunity to see one another he thought, although the look of irritation displayed on Ginny's face hinted otherwise.

"Alright then," bellowed Ron, "it looks like we have a team, but no alternates. That means that everyone is going to have to learn to play two positions. Harry, since you've already demonstrated your lack of skill at being a chaser…you, Colin, and I will be alternate beaters. Let's see… Ginny, you will be the alternate seeker; Katie, how 'bout you be keeper; Dean and Seamus you two will need to be chasers. Ok, everyone got that? Then let's practice!"

Since Harry and Ginny had already been hard at it for a number of hours, they were far from enthused. Tired and soaked was more like it and they made the mistake of saying so to Ron.

"So? What are you, whinny firsties? Do you think Slytherin would care about a little shower, or Ravenclaw? I doubt it. Now listen to me, all of you! If we're going to hold on to the cup then we're just going to have to practice harder, longer, and more often than anyone else! Now, no more complaining! It's just a little fog, so get out there and take your positions."

"Fog, he says. FOG! If it rains any harder, I'll need a boat not a broom. Ronald Billius Weasley, quit being such a… a… TROLL! Merlin, put him in charge and the power goes right to his head!" announced a furious Ginny as she grabbed the Quaffle from Ron and headed out to the middle of the pitch.

With a perplexed look, Ron shook his head and said to rest of the team, "Oi, what's her problem? Come on then, take your positions."

** -- ** -- ** -- **

Ron kept them at it for another six hours. Drills, one-on-one, alternate positions, more drills; they were all well past exhausted. Hermione finally forced him to end it when she waded through the mud into the middle of the field and blew the Quaffle from the sky with a well-placed Reducto curse.

"Hermione, what are you doing!" bellowed, Ron as he raced down to her from his spot in front of the goals.

"Saving you, you prat! Everyone has already missed lunch and they're tired. If you keep them at it any longer, someone is bound to hex you! In fact, I may do it myself…" a stern Hermione said as she pointed her wand up at Ron.

Ron responded by waiving his hands, "Ok, Ok. I surrender! Good practice everyone! Go get cleaned up and get something to eat. We'll meet again tomorrow morning at seven…" he paused as he saw Hermione raise her wand at him again, "eight…" the wand rose a little higher, "nine?" at which Hermione lowered her wand.

"And you will NOT keep them out more than three hours, Ronald Weasley!" a defiant Hermione exclaimed with her hands on hips. "As a Gryffindor Prefect, you need to respect your team's study time, and yours! I know you all want to win the Quidditch Cup, but not at the cost of failing all of your classes. Ron! Don't make me take this to McGonagall…" she added when she saw him rolling his eyes.

"Alright, Hermione. Alright, you win. Let's get cleaned up, everyone," he said as they slowly headed for the changing rooms.

Harry slowly lowered his broom down alongside Hermione and asked with a lop-sided grin, "May I offer the young lady a lift or would she rather slog her way back through the mud?"

Looking down at the mud that was now well past her shoes, Hermione smiled back, "As long as you promise not to go very fast. You know how I hate flying. Oh Merlin, how am I going to get my shoes out of this mud!"

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Harry gently lifted her out of the mud and onto his broom. "For such a brilliant witch… Accio shoes… Scourgify" he chuckled as he handed the now clean shoes over to Hermione. She thanked him by sticking out her tongue at him.

"Is that how it is then?" he asked and with a quick tilt of the handle the Firebolt shot straight up into the air.

"HAARRRYYYY!" screamed Hermione as she wrapped her arms around Harry in a death grip. "You promised me… Aaahhh!" she whimpered in a little girl's voice as she looked down.

"Whoa… Hermione… need to breathe… relax!" sputtered Harry through the brown veil of Hermione's hair. As she eased her vise like grip a bit, Harry sucked in a deep breath and reached up to clear the hair from her eyes, "Now, was that any way to properly thank someone for rescuing you?"

"Get me closer to the ground this instant, Potter, or I'll thank you right into next we…EEK!" she demanded, to which Harry just raised the broom even higher. "Harry, you promised! You know I don't like flying!" she shouted. Letting out a sigh of frustration, "Ok, I'm sorry. Thank you kind sir for rescuing me… and my shoes… now, can we go lower?" Harry waggled the broom and that little girl voice appeared again from against his chest, "Please?"

"Ok, Hermione," chuckled Harry, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have scared you like that, but I just couldn't resist the opportunity."

He wasn't quite sure why, but Harry took his time and did a slow spiral down to the ground before bringing them to the front doors of the castle. He found that he was becoming rather intoxicated with the smell of Hermione's hair, vanilla he thought, and the warmth of her arms wrapped around his rain soaked robes.

While carefully helping Hermione down from the broom, Harry couldn't help but impulsively gaze into her cinnamon brown eyes. At the same moment, either from the sudden loss of Harry's warmth or from fear of loosing herself into the sparkling green pools of light that had her mesmerized, Hermione shuddered.

This broke the trance that had them both in its spell and they quickly looked away. Hermione, her face flushed, was the first to recover. "We'd best get inside where it's warm and dried off before we end up in the hospital ward. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be too pleased with us. I… I'll meet you in the common room before dinner, Harry," at which she quickly opened the doors and disappeared inside.