Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. Anything you do not recognize is mine, but I make no money from this.

A/N: Normally, I like reading reviews. I like the feedback, the interesting viewpoints. Reviewers usually point out things that I didn't see or think about.

A few reviews (not all from the previous chapter but immediately after it was posted) were flames. Constructive criticism is encouraged. However, if you don't like Elemental!Harry or SuperPowered!Harry, I did warn you and no one is forcing you to read my story. Please do not spew hate in a review.

As to why I am referring to Harry as Simon, it has two purposes. First, it is less confusing than his classmates and professors saying Simon and Harry responding. Second, it reflects his persona. He is Simon right now. When and if he is able to reveal/be himself, he will be Harry again and will be referred to as Harry. Until then, Harry is Simon and will be referred to as Simon. I put a lot of thought into Harry vs. Simon. Ultimately, this is what I think is best for the story. Simon is Harry in disguise and will be referred to as Simon until he can morph out of his disguise.

Adenoide: I could not understand your review. Feel free to PM me if you had another question.

Everyone else: Thank you for your support and kind words. I appreciate the feedback. :-)

Chapter 17

After everything was said and done with the tournament, the students were ushered into the cafeteria for a special dinner and a celebration. Pickferd had specified that the party would be over at 10 p.m. and that everyone would be expected to be back in their wings by 10:30 as the following day was a school day.

Simon, having lived in Hawaii for the summer, could appreciate the spread of barbecue, hamburgers and hotdogs served buffet style. However, his excitement did not come close to Katy's.

"Oh. My. God. They've got blue cheese, and bacon, and cheddar, and fried pickles… Oooooo and jalapeños… How am I supposed to decide?" Her voice ranged from peppy excitement to an almost sensual sigh. Simon gathered from her reaction that she really liked burgers and barbecue.

It was a reasonable assumption considering he felt her grab his hand and pull him into line with the other students.

"Ohmygod! And Coke!" She sighed happily, reaching into a magically cooled bucket for a red and white can. "I haven't had a coke since summer…"

She cracked the can and took a sip immediately, ignoring the initial fizzing of the bubbly drink. Simon raised an eye brow with a grin but didn't say anything. He followed her lead, grabbing a coke as well, but with considerably less enthusiasm.

Katy seemed to have decided on making two separate burgers, one piled high with blue cheese and bacon and another piled with bacon, cheese, pickles, lettuce and tomato. Simon indulgently helped her as necessary after completing his more basic burger with cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickles and onion.

"Grab some fried pickles for me," she told him as she piled onion rings in the little space she had left on her plate. Simon grinned and pushed his chips over, making room for her fried pickles.

When the two were done, they slowly made their way over to a table Damon and Sam had saved for them. Katy, balancing an open coke and a very full plate, walked very slowly. Fortunately, Sam had invited a girl to sit with him and was sufficiently distracted by her brilliant green eyes and platinum blonde hair. There were no comments about Katy's sky high plate as they reached the table. However, Sam's friend had indeed noticed their arrival.

"So, first and fourth, how does it feel?"

She was referring to their respective placements in the tournament. Simon had placed first with Kate in a close fourth.

Simon shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. Katy, busy with her food, didn't respond either, but the girl didn't seem to really mind that they hadn't actually answered.

"Bet it's pretty unreal. I mean ya'll beat some 7th years that want to go into the police and such."

"I didn't know that," said Simon around a chip – a French fry by American nomenclature, he mused.

"Yeah! I heard that Toric was only doing this tournament to put it on his resume. I mean, dueling tournament and police application, come on!"

"Well, if he wants to go into the police force, I'd recommend he takes those dueling practices seriously," chipped in Damon with a scowl.

The top six, plus two runners-up, were required to attend at least one dueling practice a week after classes. There were three different time slots. Duelists were encouraged to attend as many as their schedules allowed, but only one per week was actually required.

"It's nice that they're going to give us a chance to practice more." Kate was still chewing her burger as she chimed in, but she managed to pronounce her words better than Simon had ever heard Ron with his mouth full.

Simon grinned. At least, his girl liked her food. Sam's girl, he still didn't know her name although she looked familiar, had some salad greens and chicken on her plate, nothing fried and nothing greasy.

"The overseas part isn't until after the holidays though. That's a long time to be practicing."

Simon quickly disagreed. Leaving dueling practices to the week before the tournament, or even the month before, would be stressful for himself and his teammates. On top of that, there would be jetlag and other travel related difficulties with competing overseas to contend with. Training harder and starting sooner would help with that later on.

"I hadn't thought about it that way…" Sam's girl let her comment trail off as she turned to her salad, mixing the greens with her fork.

Simon tuned out Damon and Katy's conversation as he finished his burger and fries. He would probably miss American food when it came time to move back to England. However, he wondered if the house elves at Hogwart's would be able to recreate burgers and barbecue if asked. He'd have to ask Dobby or Winky when he got to Hogwart's next semester.

"Simon, what do you think?"

"I'm sorry?" A few more people had sat down at their table and joined the conversation. He hadn't been paying attention at all.

"Which school do you think will be harder to beat? The frenchies, durmstrang or the brits?" A rather brash African American werewolf he recognized as Devon Hendrickson had joined the table.

"Not sure. I'm sure each school will have duelists of varying skills much like our team." He thought his answer was rather diplomatic, but Devon seemed to take offense to something.

"What does that mean? You got first, but the others got chops too."

"That's not what I said. I said varying skills. Johnson knows a lot of spells, Hasnain knows how to dodge well. Katy, here, is inventive with spells, but DeProspero is magically strong."

Devon hushed, but still looked slightly mutinous with his amber eyes glowing slightly. Simon sighed. Some wolves took offense over nothing.

"I bet Durmstrang will be the toughest competition." Damon's comment caught Devon's attention and the conversation relaxed into excited chatter and friendly banter again.

Simon slid an arm around Katy's waist, pulling her closer with a gentle squeeze.

"Ooo," she moaned quietly. "Don't squeeze."

Simon grinned and shook his head. He'd known two burgers would be a lot of food.

The party lasted until 10 pm as Pickferd had said it would. Students were reluctant to leave in general, but Simon couldn't wait to get to his bed. All anyone could talk about was the duels, the tournament next semester and where the heck he had learned to duel like that. It had been hard to answer questions politely when all he wanted to do was be left alone with Katy. He'd won the tournament and consequently earned himself some notoriety and popularity. His goal of staying in the shadows was busted, but at least, he was making some more acquaintances, fair weather friends who'd shun him the second he lost a duel. His experience with being the Boy Who Lived had taught him a little bit about how to recognize the differences between true friends and acquaintances.

However, it was on the way up to the dorms that Katy had revealed a bit of her insecurities regarding their relationship.

The two hadn't really discussed much, but Simon had thought they were enjoying their time together.

"Did you have a girlfriend in England?"

"Nope. Why?"

"Just wondering…"

Simon frowned and pulled gently on her arm, guiding her into a nook along the corridor.

"What's on your mind?"

Kate sighed, shuffling nervously.

"Kate, love, tell me."

"Just wondering what the future has in store for us. I mean, we're going to your home. Are there ex-girlfriends I need to watch out for? What if you find a prettier English girl? Someone who likes the same things you do, calls fries chips and sausages bangers? Beauxbatons is home to some French veelas apparently. What about them? What about us?"

It came out in a jumble, but Simon understood. Katy would be coming with him to England. It'd be awkward if something happened while they were in a foreign country, his home turf, but a whole new world to her.

He pulled her into a hug, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

"What about us, love?" He sighed. He probably couldn't offer her forever. "I want to be with you. I know it's going to be a big step, but I'm glad you're on the team. I want to show you my home. I want to see you fall in love with country, but I'll understand if you don't. Rain isn't everyone's cuppa tea."

"As for your other concerns, I'm with you. Only you. For as long as I can and as long as you want me. I really like you, so I don't think other girls are going to be a problem. However, those Durmstrang boys have been known to sweep a girl off her feet…" He loosened his hold on her so she could see his smile. He was joking about the Durmstrang boys, despite Hermione and Krum's brief relationship.

Katy smiled back and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, moving to begin walking again.

"Oh no you don't," Simon growled playfully, pushing her gently against the wall. She gasped, half surprised, half delighted. He kissed her again, harder, more demanding than usual. He ran his tongue along her lower lip, pulling it between his teeth as she opened her mouth to him. He was rewarded with a quiet moan and kissed her again, looking to earn more moans from her.

The next week was busy for Simon. He practiced each morning with Damon before class. After class, he and Katy still practiced on top of attending two dueling practices a week. Also, two nights a week, Simon had Quidditch practice which was becoming longer and more rigorous with a match coming up the next weekend. It was hard for Simon to keep up with homework and to find time for his menagerie as he often had to sacrifice socializing during lunch to finish an assignment, but he was sure to make time, if only a few minutes between classes for Katy. Their relationship was progressing and he was enjoying the benefits. Her emotional response to their upcoming trip had seemed to bring them closer and led to more snogging sessions stolen during practices, between classes or when Simon was supposed to be doing homework. He didn't mind at all. His menagerie was understanding, but full of complaints about how busy he was and how little they saw him.

However, that Saturday was the first Quidditch match he'd be participating in since Hogwart's. He was excited. Flying was something he loved. The search for the snitch, the excitement of the game, was something he was sure he would never be rid of.

"This is it East Wing. The first game of the season. We can do this. We can beat South. They haven't switched captains or tactics since last year. This year, we have the best seeker our wing has to offer. We can do this. Remember our training and we'll win. Beaters, keep the bludgers focused on their chasers. They tend to rely on formations and set plays. Simon, if you have a chance, feint through the formations. Fly through plays. Play distraction while you search. Don't catch the snitch until we're at least fifty points ahead. Chasers, fly hard, fly fast. Remember the formations we practiced, but communicate! Tien, you had better block every shot like you have been in practice or I'll get Simon to use you as target practice for the dueling practices, got it?"

The team shouted various affirmative responses.

"ON THREE! ONE, TWO, THREE!"

"EAST SIIIIIDE! EAST SIIIIIDE! EAST SIIIIIIIDE!"

Chanting, the team ran out onto the pitch with Simon in the rear and brooms in hand.

Mandy faced the South wing's captain, a burly looking 7th year boy, in front of Professor Blunt who would be the referee for the match.

"Shake hands. I expect a clean game." He waited for them to shake hands. "Mount up. On three! One! Two! Three!"

Simon pushed off hard, missing the release of the balls. He settled above the game, watching as his teammates got off to a quick start, catching the Quaffle and taking off with it down the pitch, passing as they went. The beaters got one Bludger and wasted no time aiming it at the South wing chasers while Simon dodged the other bludger from the opposing beaters. South wing's seeker settled near him, a little higher than he was. She was a larger girl, not heavy set, but taller and more muscular than some. She wore spectacle, but Simon knew, from experience, they could be spelled to help instead of hinder during a game. Impervious charms on a rainy day were one such helpful spell.

Simon lazily circled the pitch, searching for any sign of the snitch. He saw a golden glint and dove for it, conveniently weaving through the South wing chasers. It was just a glint off a watch face and he pulled up quickly, once again flying through the ongoing Quaffle battle to get back up to his usual altitude.

A sloth grip roll pulled him out of the way of a sudden bludger.

"Sorry, Simon!" yelled Patrick, one of East's beaters, as he righted himself.

"No problem!"

Simon saw the snitch half a second later. It was flitting about in the middle of the pitch where the captains had shaken hands. Keeping an eye on it discretely, he checked the score. South and East were tied 10-10. Quaffle battles were raging up and down the pitch, but neither set of chasers seemed to be able to get an advantage long enough to make an attempt on the Keeper very often. Patrick and Connie seemed to be doing a great job of busting up South's plays when the chasers weren't able to intercept the Quaffle alone. Simon dove in for another feint towards the South goal posts, away from the snitch, to break up a South play. He felt more than heard the other seeker behind him. His broom was marginally faster than hers, but with her size, he'd be better off out maneuvering her than out flying her. Simon mentally started the count as the ground sped towards him. Ten feet, eight feet, six feet. The other seeker pulled up rather than risk a collision with the ground. Four feet, two feet. Simon pulled up hard and slung his weight to the left, arching his broom into a steep upward turn, the tail of his broom sweeping the grass of the pitch.

The snitch was rising in the middle of the pitch, zig zagging this way and that like a deranged bee without blossums.

Simon avoided it again, rising above the game again. East had yet to score a second time. At this rate, he'd probably have to catch the snitch against orders just to prevent the other seeker from getting it.

Once settled above the game, he watched the snitch under the guise of watching the plays for a few minutes before losing it as it flitted over the crowd.

"East scores! 20-10 East. That was a good pass by chaser and captain, Mandy Harper, for the assist. Props go to Christina Karderopole for the shot. She's just a third year, folks! One to keep an eye on!"

"South gets the Quaffle on the follow up. Intercepted by Karderopole. Passed back to Jacob Bentley. Bentley to Harper. Harper to – Oh! She feints then shoots! Scores! 30-10 East."

Thirty more points, thought Simon, searching for the snitch once again. He saw the other seeker dive and immediately followed, eyes searching for anything he might have missed ahead of her, to the right and left of her target. He pulled ahead of her slightly, seeing nothing. She pulled up at twenty feet to go and he recognized the obvious feint. He kept diving as though he'd seen something and she dove back down. He checked under his elbow briefly, watching her flatten herself against the broom at ten feet to go.

Five feet. He turned right, straightening out from the dive. Almost to the stands, he pulled up almost vertical, hearing the crowd shout as he flew close enough to almost be within arm's reach.

"Parker following Thorpe as he chases the snitch. She's pulling up to him slowly. Oh! He turns again! She catches an inside track, gaining more ground."

Simon checked under his arm again. The other seeker was much closer this time. He dropped into a steep dive again, zig zagging slightly on his downward path.

"Don't, Thorpe! I-"

He grinned as he barely recognized Mandy's voice over the shouts of the crowd. The announcer, whom Simon tuned out, drowned out her further instructions. He hoped the captain would forget the anxiety he was surely giving her when she realized that it was all just an elaborate feint.

Four feet. Three feet. He pulled up early as soon as Parker pulled up a foot or so behind him.

The crowd groaned before cheering wildly. Simon grinned and shot up through another South wing formation to get back to his preferred position. He went back to lazily searching as he flew circles on the pitch, starting wide and working into the center. Parker, scowling with narrowed eyes, seemed to be searching as well although she wasn't following him this time.

Simon watched as Jacob scored, assisted by a feint by Mandy and a quick pass from Chris.

"Bentley scores! 40-10 East. South recovers the Quaffle. Cuevas to Crawford. Crawford to – Oh! Nice feint! Harper bumps Crawford, keeping it legal. Crawford, not giving an inch. Bently bumps from the other side, pinning him in. Crawford drops the Quaffle! Into Cuevas' arms! Karderopole's on it. Steals!"

Simon averted his attention from the game once again. Scanning the sky above him, the only place he hadn't really checked. He spotted the snitch hovering above the South goals and kept scanning, pretending he hadn't seen it. He quit craning his neck, rising slightly, as he checked Parker's position. She was closer to it than he was, but lower and still looking down.

Play had reversed again, heading toward the East goals and Tien momentarily. Tien blocked the shot, easily catching the Quaffle as though the South chaser had passed it to him and flew down the pitch a bit before passing the Quaffle off to Harper. He and Harper split for opposite goals.

Simon glanced casually to where the snitch had been last, not seeing it immediately. It had flitted down, closer to Parker and away from him. He began a slow wide circle, hoping to get close enough to catch it should Parker spot it. He saw Parker dive out of the corner of his eye. This time, he didn't follow, continuing his lazy circle, even adding a careless roll to the mix.

The crowd jeered as Parker pulled up again, this time alone.

"50-10 East! Where's that South defense! Maybe they need some encouragement, people!"

The announcer started a South wing chant as Harper stole the Quaffle and passed it to Bentley.

Simon watched the snitch zoom straight towards him, passing by his right should so close he could feel the wings brush his jersey. Parker had come up to his level, so he turned, keeping the snitch and Parker in sight. Parker stiffened suddenly and Simon nearly groaned. She'd seen the snitch.

It was closer to her than him now, but he took off at the same second as she did. He checked her hard, but not hard enough for a foul, throwing her slightly off course. She didn't slow, but Simon could see she wasn't on the snitch's tail anymore. He followed her, checking her once more, pushing her further from the snitch. He pulled his broom straight up, pushing it to top speed and hoping she'd follow. He arched the broom up and over to the right, making the shape of a rainbow as he fell into a dive. Parker followed, clearly having lost the snitch. Simon, himself, only had a vague idea of where it was at this point. He pulled up from the dive and evened out at play height.

"50-20 East! South is getting back into the game, folks! Let's keep it up!"

Simon very nearly groaned. There was only so much he could do before he had to catch the snitch, captain's orders or not. He spotted the snitch yet again, this time hovering close enough to the stands that some of the audience members had spotted it and were pointing. He watched Parker closely as her back was currently to the snitch.

"Folks, I think the snitch has been spotted. Neither seeker has seen it yet despite quite a few impressive feints. Oh! Harper scores! 60-20 East! South recovers it. Heading down the pitch."

Parker had turned and was scanning the stands for the snitch. It was close to the bottom of the stands, hovering near the grass now. Thankfully, it was out of sight of most of the audience so the pointing had ceased. Simon flew down, close to where the audience had been pointing, but slightly off, alongside Parker. The two seekers flew random patterns over the audience. Simon felt a few audacious fans reach up and brush his shoe as he flew past. Some squealed at having touched him. He rolled his eyes, but grinned as Parker flew away from the snitch yet again.

"70-20 East! Folks –" Simon grinned at the score and turned, diving after where he'd last seen the snitch. It was a few feet further along the stands than he'd last seen it. The snitch seemed to sense his pursuit and took off, flitting forward along the stands, then off into the middle of the pitch. Simon heard the announcer shout in excitement. He heard Parker was following him. He checked under his arm for her, before focusing completely on the snitch. It skimmed the ground five feet ahead of him. Right, left, up for a second, almost within reach. Simon followed. Around a middle goal post, up another, twirling.

Two feet away. It evened out midway up the goal post, then dropped suddenly after a few feet. Simon followed a foot behind, stretching himself out flat on his broom, gaze complete focused on the little golden ball. Inches away from his outstretched hand, the snitch turned again. Simon growled in frustration and followed it, trying to coax as much speed as he could from his broom. He felt Parker bump into him, then the snitch slapped into his hand a millisecond later. Her attempt to stop him from catching the snitch had helped him. His fingers closed around the golden ball as he pulled to an abrupt stop. He held it aloft for the referee to see and began a slow descent.

He landed and was almost tackled by his teammates, all congratulating him. Simon grinned. This was why the sport was so addictive. The chase followed by praise he had actually earned. This was why he loved Quidditch games.

A/N: Another 4K for ya'll. Please leave some feedback! Flames will earn you Snape worthy death glares.