Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work.

Author's Note: This is a sequel to Twelve Days, but it's not overly important to have read that first. It was going to be my Christmas 2020 fic but then certain events happened that led to it being completed..well...in June...but it took a while to think of a title. So...Merry Christmas?

Iron and Gold

1. Doe

"And there's the snitch! Potter dives!" Reginald Dickerson yelled, his voice reverberating through Arrows' stadium in Appleby. A clamor rose from the crowd in response as the blue-robed player flew downward, using the lights to shroud them. But it wasn't a very effective maneuver as the white-robed player followed, the snow cutting through the glowing bulbs on the dark night.

"Wright follows," Dickerson announced. "Weasley cuts in front of Potter. And now Button as well. Potter avoids contact and continues on but Wright has caught up!"

The blue-robed player continued, slicing around another beater and up toward the oncoming chaser attack. The game was getting out of hand, but the Blues could still beat the Whites as long as Potter caught the snitch.

Potter slowed as the chasers sped through, taking a moment to deflect the quaffle down toward one of the Blue chasers. But Wright shot ahead. A curse left Harry Potter's lips as play continued.

"Potter is back involved now as Johnson saves a shot from Caron," Dickerson continued. "Wright still has a sizable lead, but Potter is catching up as the snitch weaves between the offensive rush."

Potter caught up quickly, jostling with Wright for position. Wright held a rather large size advantage and used it to block Potter's path. No matter how much jostling occurred the larger seeker held his line.

The two seekers circled the pitch three times, the crowd growing louder with each passing moment as they sensed the end of the match drawing near. The snitch made no real attempt to vanish, instead choosing to lead the players onward.

The chasers played on, perhaps harder than they had moments before. White knew that they were so very close to making the catch not matter. And Blue knew they had to keep the score within one-fifty to give their seeker a shot at the win.. They exchanged a pair of goals as the seekers continued to jostle around the edge of the stadium.

Cheers echoed through the arena as White started to rally. Four unanswered scores in very quick succession stretched the lead to one-forty and the final remnants of the crowd that weren't already on their feet rose as well.

"The snitch cuts back to the middle. Potter and Wright follow! This is going to be it! It rises up to the center of the pitch! Both seekers give chase! There's no one else near them, no Bludgers! It's just down to flying now!" Dickerson shouted to the crowd.

Potter was faster than Wright. Everyone in the stadium knew it. But Wright blocked the best paths as they both started to climb. The entire stadium knew that it would be over in moments. But Blue's chasers continued on, doing everything in their power to keep possession of the Quaffle as they wanted nothing more than to prevent White from making the catch trivial.

Potter continued to rise, pulling even with Wright and then slowly past the man. The snitch pulled out of the dive and paused at the height of the stadium, level with the light. It gave a clear message to both Seekers. Catch me, it said as it paused in the snowy light from the stadium. Catch me and end this. Potter reached for it as it slowed. Wright did the same. But he was too far behind.

Instead, he went for the foul. He grabbed Potter's broom. The shrill whistle coming immediately as the referee saw it. Potter's legs slipped from the broom, pressing outward and upward, toward the snitch.

Potter's hand clasped around one of the wings as the ball shot away. But the seeker's grip held steady and after a moment the snitch gave up the fight. The Blue's seeker's arm shot up into the air about the same moment that the player realized their legs were not wrapped around a broom.

It was only inches away and the seeker stretched back out, catching part of it with a leg and managing to return to it far before the adrenaline of the catch and the thought of falling could replace the euphoria.

"She's done it!" Reginald Dickerson yelled to the crowd. Most were silent as they took in just what happened.

"Oh my God!" Gabrielle Potter shrieked into her husband's ear as she relaxed her vice grip on his wrist. Harry did his best not to shake it out as her arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed him before spinning around and gazing up at the sky.

"Sylvie Potter has the snitch!" Dickerson reiterated. "France defeats England two-ninety to two-seventy!"

"Oh my God!" Chloe Potter squealed from further down the stands.

"Wow," Leo Potter laughed in disbelief.

"She's improved a lot in the last few years," Sophie Button nee Sinclair said as the French National Team swarmed her Goddaughter.

"She has," Titus said. "I told England to give her more of a look than they did."

"Sure you did," Gabrielle scoffed as Harry wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sure he did," Harry said. "I just doubt that they listened to him. Of course, Wright earned his place."

"England only wins when a Potter is seeking," Titus said knowingly.

"I am not sure that she would have played for England," Gabrielle said.

"Better shot at winning," Titus shrugged.

"Scoreboard disagrees," Harry said.

"Also, she's French," Gabrielle said with a faux haughtiness in her tone.

"Touché," Titus said as the faint applause for the visiting team faded away.

"She did go to Hogwarts," Sophie said.

"Only because she always wished that she could be her father," Gabrielle said.

"All the more reason to seek for England!" Titus said. The Blue-robed French National team finally slipped away from their young seeker. Sylvie Potter clenched the snitch in her hand. The official still hadn't confirmed the catch. But it was a friendly match for the holiday season.

The snow was starting to fall in earnest as the celebration ended. An official flew up to Sylvie and took the ball from her. He blew his whistle confirming the catch. He asked her something, likely if France wanted to take the final penalty, but she shook her head as the score didn't matter.

The French Team moved to the locker room as the fans started to filter out of the stadium. The official gave the snitch back to Sylvie and she turned her broom to go and join her teammates. But she was stopped a short fly later as Victoire Weasley spun around her and ruffled her hair. Sylvie swatted at the older woman, clearly annoyed. They talked for a few moments, Sylvie looking sheepishly away from her cousin as Victoire flew toward their locker room.

The eldest daughter of Bill and Fleur Weasley spun around on her broom, giving her cousin one last taunt before streaking away with a smirk on her face. Sylvie stared after her for a few moments, no doubt filled with spirit of the staircase. But as to what comment she regretted being unable to make, Harry couldn't say. But, Harry could picture her flushed pink cheeks with both a new found embarrassment and a fight against the cold.

Sylvie had always been the wild one. She'd been so difficult, so argumentative, so impossible, that they'd waited seven years before the second one. Of course, Leo had been more of an unplanned accident that had both of them wondering how they'd possibly deal with two at once. But all he'd wanted to do was sleep and play quietly with his toys. He'd been so painless they'd decided on Chloe only about six months later. Although they waited another three years to go there.

Sylvie had grown up fairly rapidly in the last few years though. Part of the wildness faded away after she graduated. Her first years in the league went poorly. And it still angered Harry as to why. But he also had to admit that she'd reminded Harry of Ginny. But she'd mellowed out.

Her father watched her, beaming with pride, as she flew a lap around the arena. He didn't know when she'd started doing it for a cooldown, but she did it after every match. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail it was in as she flew, letting the long black strands billow in the wind behind her. She stopped about halfway around the pitch, near a group of girls across the pitch from the Friends and Family section. Two of them wore the powder blue of the Arrows, one the darker blue of the French. Harry didn't have to think too hard to guess just what number was on the back of each of their replica jerseys.

Sylvie spent a few moments with them, giving the one in the French jersey the snitch from the match. Harry wanted to scream at her as she turned away. This was your night, Love. Enjoy it. Triumphs like this, even if it was just a Christmas Eve exhibition, didn't come nearly as often as you'd like to think. Savor the moment.

But instead she turned away, no doubt thinking of returning to the locker room. When she turned around they noticed that one white-robed player stayed floating on the pitch, probably fifty feet or so from her. His eyes fixated on her. Harry didn't need to read the back of the jersey to recognize Quintus Harry Button.

"What's Quintus doing?" Sophie asked to no one in particular.

"Staring at Sylvie," Chloe Potter, Sylvie's decade younger sister said.

"I thought they were finally done hating each other," Titus said.

"I don't think they ever really hated each other," Harry frowned.

"They have not gotten along since they were six," Gabrielle said, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't see it," Harry shrugged.

"Because you don't act like a fool around Harry Potter," Sophie said. "That is way too embarrassing."

"Never bothered me," Titus countered.

"He looks like he's going to hex her," Leo Potter said.

"He wouldn't do that," Chloe said. "Dad would kill him."

"Probably," Harry agreed as his gazed stayed focused on Sylvie. She looked surprised to see Quintus floating near her. Her blue eyes were wide as the two Appleby Arrows stared at each other across the pitch.

"But I wanna!" Sylvie Potter squealed as she came sprinting down the hallway holding her father's Firebolt.

"No!" Leo Potter yelled after her. He followed as quickly as his three-year-old legs would allow.

"Sylvie get back here this instant!" Gabrielle Potter yelled.

"What did I miss?" Harry asked as he stepped into the living room of their Bordeaux home, holding baby Chloe in his arms.

"Daddy!" Sylvie squealed as she rushed to him, carrying the broom like a lance.

"Daddy!" Leo copied as Harry dodged around both of them.

"Your daughter," Gabrielle said as she entered the room. Harry braced himself, she was only ever 'his' daughter when she was being difficult. His wife was slightly winded and looked rather frazzled at the whole situation. "Seems to think she can take your Firebolt to Hogwarts."

"Why would she think that?" Harry asked. "Is there a vintage broom competition I'm unaware of?"

"Quidditch!" Sylvie squealed.

"First years don't get to play Quidditch, Sylvie. Nor do they get to have their own brooms," Harry said.

"You did!" Sylvie said.

"Yes, but I shouldn't have," Harry said. "So, don't be upset when you don't get to."

"I should have gone to Beauxbatons," Sylvie scoffed.

"Third year for Quidditch there, Love," Gabrielle said.

"That is absurd!" Sylvie frowned.

"I agree," Harry said. "But the French are weird."

"I'm French," Sylvie said.

"Point proven," Harry said.

"Harry," Gabrielle groaned, but Sylvie giggled and hit him with the Firebolt.

"Ow," Harry said. That caused Leo to giggle so Sylvie hit him again.

"Stop beating your father," Gabrielle groaned.

"But he called me weird!" Sylvie countered.

"Yes, and I'm sure he regrets that. But you might hit your sister," Gabrielle said.

"Oh, sorry Chloe," Sylvie frowned dropping the broom.

"Think you can watch her while I go get your trunk?" Harry asked, shifting Chloe in his arms and offering her to Sylvie.

"Uh-huh," Sylvie said as she took Chloe. Harry picked up the Firebolt and moved through the house. He put the broom back in its display case in his office, wondering exactly how she managed to get it down, before he moved to her bedroom. Her trunk, as he expected, was only about half packed.

"Shit," he muttered to himself as he started to magic items into it.

"I will do that," Gabrielle said.

"You probably have a better idea what an eleven-year-old girl needs for school anyway," Harry said as Gabrielle drew her wand and finished packing for her daughter.

"I am sure I do," she said. He slipped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist as she put the finishing touches on Sylvie's trunk.

"Sorry I talked her into Hogwarts," Harry said.

"She was always going to go to Hogwarts. She wants to be you more than anything," Gabrielle laughed. "If she did not look like you already I think she would magic herself that way."

"She has your eyes," Harry said.

"She does. At least Leo looks like me," Gabrielle teased. "I am sure I will be able to convince him to get a proper magical education."

"And now that she's going off to school you can make me speak French around the house again," Harry said.

"I look forward to it. Hopefully they will not be too hard on her accent," Gabrielle frowned.

"Her last name is Potter. If she tells me she's being made fun of I'll Floo over there and murder them. Besides she barely has one," Harry said.

"I do not think that is the proper way to deal with children," Gabrielle said.

"Well, thankfully she won't have to deal with Snape. Although I feel like inflicting her on him would have been the best revenge I could have had," Harry said, remembering his least favorite teacher. "And Neville will let me know anything I need to."

"And Tamsin's second daughter is starting this year too. So hopefully they wind up in the same house or at least in a few of the same classes," Gabrielle said. "And I'm sure Quintus will look after her."

"Quintus is in Gryffindor," Harry said.

"Much to Titus's dismay," Gabrielle said.

"Well the boy takes after Sophie," Harry said. Gabrielle paused for a moment but then seemed to pick up on what her husband was implying. She raised her brows and looked ta him for a few moments before continuing their conversation.

"You were in Gryffindor," Gabrielle said.

"Yes, but I've also met Sylvie," Harry said.

"Ravenclaw?" Gabrielle raised her brows.

"I'm not sure she knows what a book is," Harry said. "And judging from her early schooling I don't think we have an intellectual on our hands."

"Sure we do. It is just our beautiful blonde boy. And Sylvie is not that bad. If she did not want to fly so much…" Gabrielle said. She let her voice trail off before continuing. "And I struggle with seeing her in Hufflepuff. She does not seem that interested in hard work."

"No, she's certainly not a Puff," Harry said.

"Slytherin? You are going to disown our daughter!" Gabrielle said, she squirmed around in his arms until she was facing him.

"Maybe," Harry said and kissed her once. And then, as if on cue, Chloe started crying.

"And now we should make sure they are okay," Gabrielle said.

"I'll grab the trunk," Harry said as his wife slipped from his arms and left the room. He hauled it down the stairs to where a very sheepish looking Sylvie and Leo had formed a united front and continually insisted they did nothing at all to annoy their screaming sister. It took the better part of a half hour to get everything settled and have everyone Floo to their London home. And then another fifteen minutes of running around before they managed make it to King's Cross.

They met Ernie and Tamsin McMillan at the station and exchanged hugs and kisses as Sylvie and Clara McMillan giggled and started to talk excitedly about the upcoming school year. Their older daughter, Amanda, immediately brought over a couple of friends to introduce them to her parents' friend Harry Potter. There was some hand shaking and a photograph before a snide voice spoke behind him.

"Really, Potter, using your fame already?" a man said in an annoyingly familiar drawl.

"That is an incredibly bad impression of Professor Snape," Harry responded, turning to face Titus Button.

"Really? I was going for Draco Malfoy," Titus said as he, his son Quintus, and his wife Sophie joined them at the station. Titus stepped up to Harry's left, exactly how he appeared on all of the Ballycastle Bats promotional items, and suddenly there was a need for more photographs.

That continued until the whistle on the train blew. Sylvie hugged both her parents, looking rather nervous as she did, before Quintus took it upon himself to lead both of the younger girls onto the train. Harry watched her go, finding Leo's hand in his as his daughter stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. She gave one look back and a half-hearted wave as she disappeared onto the train.