Harry felt a wave of nerves as he sat there in the changing rooms before his try-out for the Manchester Dragons. The prestigious Quidditch Premiership team had contacted him with a view to said try-out shortly after the defeat of Voldemort. They had scouted him throughout his Hogwarts career and were ready to offer him a place in their new remodelling of the team.

The squad from last year had completed a sixth trophy-less year, but still ended up in a spot for the European Quidditch tournament, with the finale to be held in London. The team was old and could no longer reproduce the results they had in the glory days when there was seemingly no competition. The newly appointed manager, Simon Brown, had opted to remodel the team with the youngest, brightest prospects in order to resurrect the fear this team instilled on their opponents.

Also in the dressing room were about twenty seven other hopefuls. Harry looked around and recognized some of the other prospects in there, either by word of mouth, or by having seen some of them around Hogwarts.

There was Jordan Fletcher, a beater from a smaller wizarding school in south-west England; off to the side was Samuel Cleverley, the reserve Chaser from the Gryffindor team, who had come a long way since riding the bench a few years back. He had been scouted in a few talent scrimmages, and had obviously caught the eye; there was also Ron, who sat beside him, going through his usual jittery spell of sickness; another beater was Logan Anderson, who had also been at the talent scrimmage, but Harry wasn't sure of his school of origin; and then there was Anthony Smalling, another Chaser who had been picked out from a private Irish school and promised a lot. Other than that, there were no faces Harry recognized.

As they all sat there, coping in their own ways with the daunting task at hand, the door burst open and in flew a blonde female with half her Chaser's padding on. Harry smiled as he most certainly recognized this face as Katie Bell's. He recalled her knack of being nearly fashionably late to practices.

"Have I missed anything?" she asked to no-one in particular, until she spotted Harry and Ron, and plopped herself down in between them and proceeded to hastily don the rest of her padding.

"Nope, still waiting," Ron gulped.

"Phew, and I thought I was going to miss it!" she chuckled.

There was no reply to that and she soon assumed the grave expressions that most wore, as they knew by rumour how gruelling this try-out was going to be and how ruthlessly selective they were going to be with who they admitted to the team. Only fourteen would walk away today as Dragons, seven of whom starters and the others as reserves in case of injury or overly long games.

Half of the people trying out today will go home happy, the others, not so much. Harry didn't like the odds, no matter how much Ron had assured him that his skill and already big name would very much work in his favour.

A few minutes more of this uncomfortable silence and a man walked in.

"Hello all, my name's Simon Brown, and I'm the manager of the Manchester Dragons," he said simply, seeming to relish the opportunity to say that.

There were collective gasps and replies of his greeting as they realized who it was.

"Settle down, settle down," he chuckled. "You're all here today to show us why you were scouted as potential Dragons. We're looking for players who we know can work day in, day out, sunrise to sunset to make sure they're the best players they are so that we can be the best team in the league. A lot of you are good players, but in order to be excellent players, you're going to need to show that you've got the determination and the attitude necessary to make it with the big names out there. You all come in to this try-out with clean slates. No matter what we've seen of you before today, no matter your name, gender, origin, or blood status, you all have an equal chance to make it today."

He fixed his gaze on Harry when he said this last part. Harry smiled, liking the fact that should he make the team, it would not be because he defeated the most feared dark wizard of all time.

"Now, enough of me rambling, let's see how you guys do out there! Best of luck!" He said, and with that he spun on his heel and exited the dressing room.

The room suddenly erupted into conversation as everybody couldn't believe what they had just witnessed. The door opened again and Simon popped his head back in.

"Erm, you were supposed to follow me, you know that?" he asked.

Everyone scrambled to their feet and made after him, soon coming out onto the brightly-lit pitch, shielding their eyes as they adjusted to the change in lighting.

The hopefuls were sorted into the positions they were trying out for and it turned out that there were four people to each position.

They started out with a few laps of the immense stadium, and then proceeded to do a speed lap, with Harry out-stripping the entire group on his Firebolt. He waited on the ground as the others finished up.

"Well done, Potter," Simon said, scribbling down some notes. "You handle the broom really well and seem to sit rather naturally on it, rather than almost all Quidditch players, even the pros, who sit uneasily on their broom: either too stiffly or too loosely. You're one of the best fliers I've seen. I'm anxious to see how you do when we test your skill."

He allowed the group a breather and then had them kick off again, this time to test out the keeper hopefuls. The others lined up and one by one threw the Quaffle, with Simon taking note of the hopefuls that were trying for Chaser positions.

Simon had the Chasers keep going and had his assistant keep an eye on them. Simon brought over the beaters and seekers and explained this drill.

"Alright, so we've seen how you can do as auxiliary Chasers, so now let's see you in your elements. I'm going to release a Snitch and two Bludgers. The four seekers are going to go after the Snitch, naturally, and the Beaters will be sending the Bludgers at each other. Seekers: some of the Bludgers will be heading your way, so we have to see you dodge them; Beaters: you'll have to stay on your toes, because the seekers might come whizzing by at any moment, and just like in a match, you'll also have to get out of their way. There's nothing worse than having a collision take out both a beater and our seeker. Alright, off you go!"

With that, an assistant on the ground released the Snitch and Bludgers and they all set off on their different missions. Harry zoomed after the Snitch, only to see it disappear among the red and gold banners of the stadium. That was one of the reasons Harry had agreed to this trial. It would be another chance to don the colours of Gryffindor house, despite it not being exactly that team.

He shook his head and barrel-rolled suddenly as a Bludger came screaming his way. He suddenly spotted the Snitch at the other end of the stadium and his opponents already pursuing it. Harry took off in a direct line that would head off the Snitch. A beater suddenly backed into his path and Harry improvised. He quickly stood and leaped and flipped over the beater as his broom zoomed underneath. He had timed it to perfection, as he landed comfortably in his seat and once again leaned over the broom to get maximum speed. He was suddenly at the point where he and the Snitch would meet and obligingly plucked it out of the air.

"Well done, Potter! Now release it and touch down!" he heard Simon shout. He complied and was once again on solid ground, panting from his high speed catch.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and straightened up to see Simon standing there, looking at him with a smile.

"Now I know why you were the youngest Hogwarts player for a century! That was a great dodge on the Bludger and when you avoided the beater there, that was pure genius and only the most skilled seekers can catch a Snitch at that high of a speed, and that quickly!"

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied gratefully. He knew that all that complimenting wasn't easy to come by from the Dragons manager.

"Not a problem, son," he said.

Something jumped in Harry at being addressed as 'son'. It was a word he had hardly heard (if ever) directed to him, and that the man beside him had used it seemed to indicate he was forging a long-term connection with him.

He answered his thoughts: "I want to offer you the starting Seeker position, the number 7 uniform. And from what I've heard about you organizing that group of students and teaching them defensive magic, well, that's the mark of a great leader and I also want to give you captaincy of the Dragons."

"I-Well, it's an honour, sir, but I'm just not sure. I don't want it to be because I'm Harry Potter and I'll get special treatment and so on-" Harry began.

"It's not," Simon cut in sharply. "If Merlin himself turned up, broom in hand, I wouldn't give him anything unless he proved it. I'm not offering you all this because you're the Chosen One. I'm offering it because I know it'll be what's best for the team."

"Alright," Harry nodded. "I accept."

"Great," the manager beamed, offering his hand, which Harry shook. "If you could follow Albert over there and he'll bring you up to have your robes fitted and made, so that you can sign your contract, and so that we can get a few pictures for player paraphernalia."

Harry grinned and followed the man Simon indicated. He was brought up to what Albert told him was the kit room. He donned the new kits for this season, the yet-to-be-unveiled home kit: red robes with white decorating designs and the also unreleased away and alternate kits: the former an all-black ensemble with gold detailing and the latter the same but in white and blue. They all had a dragon emblazoned on the chest in the colour of the detailing.

Albert held his wand to the robes and muttered a few spells and they shrunk slightly to Harry's size. Once they were all his size, Albert laid them all out and had them backs-up and tapped them again with his wand. Suddenly, they all had 'POTTER' and the number seven on the backs. He also noticed when Albert flipped them over the word CAPTAIN stitched on the shoulders.

He donned each set of robes in turn and posed for photos in each, along with his broom and padding. Once this was done, he went over to an adjoining room, where fourteen stacks of parchment lay on the table. He went up to the first set and filled out all the necessary information and finally signed his name with a flourish on the dotted line on the last page.

When he was lead back into the room where he was fitted, he found the other thirteen players who had been selected for the team. He beamed as he saw all the players that he had recognized in the change rooms had been selected. He ran up to Ron and Katie and high-fived the former and hugged the latter.

"Congratulations guys!" he said and they replied in kind.

He saw the seven he didn't recognize walk straight into the room where he had signed his contract. He suspected (correctly) that they were the reserve team.

The others donned their fitted kits and took individual pictures as he did before they all assembled and took group shots in each kit, with Harry spear-heading the arrow formation they posed in.

Soon after, Katie, Ron, and Harry were walking outside of the stadium following the photoshoot.

"Ugh, I never thought that would end! 'Harry, just tilt your head this way a little bit! Harry, hold your arm up a little more!' I seriously wanted to punch that photographer!" Harry fumed.

"Easy there, Mr. Captain," Katie replied, laughing at his annoyance.

"You're right, do you guys want to go for drinks at the Three Broomsticks?" he asked.

"Sure," Katie shrugged.

"Actually, Mum wanted me back at the Burrow soon as things were wrapped up," Ron said apologetically.

"Well, tell her your captain ordered you to join him!" Harry replied.

Ron laughed: "I'll see. You two save a table just in case, alright?"

They nodded and with that, he apparated, leaving the other two standing there.

"Shall we?" Harry asked, offering his arm.

Katie smiled and grabbed it and Harry apparated towards Hogsmeade.

They entered the Three Broomsticks, seeing the usual sort of crowd that haunted the tavern. They threaded their way through the closely-placed tables and found a booth to their liking; complete with extra room should Ron show up.

Harry went and grabbed a few Butterbeers and sat down, offering Katie hers.

After a few swigs, Harry broke the silence: "So, how've you been? I haven't seen you since the Battle of Hogwarts, as they call it."

"Really? I've heard it dubbed as 'The Triumph of Harry Potter over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. And I've been well, obviously, seeing as how I just made left Chaser for the Manchester Dragons! Well, relatively well. My personal life's been crap since Hogwarts."

"That other title seemed a bit of a mouthful and also narcissistic. And what do you mean by a crappy personal life?"

"I've had a couple of boyfriends since Hogwarts, but not for long and very bitter partings," she replied. "How've things been with Ginny?"

"Ginny and I broke up a few months after the Battle. Turns out she just wanted the fame, and even then, she was still going strong with Dean behind my back. So I gave her the bird and have been flying solo since."

"How did that not piss off Ron?"

"He was initially pissed off, but when he found out she was only in it for the glory and that she was cheating on me, he came to his wits and we were back on terms."

Katie nodded her comprehension: "Ouch. That must not have been a pleasant experience."

He shrugged: "I got over it. But not after a night of Butterbeer and chocolate frog binging. Needless to say, I now have a chocolate frog card collection that rivals Ron's. Ron was by my side as soon as he found out about the binge. He was always banishing the sick when the drinking caught up with me."

Katie chuckled: "That's nothing. After my second post-Hogwarts boyfriend dumped me, I was making Firewhisky and ice cream floats, with liquorice wand straws. Alicia and Ange took turns holding my hair back for the next six hours."

Harry winced at that: "Okay, you've got me beaten. Why do we have to have the two crappiest love lives in the British wizarding world?"

"I dunno. But, we're also some of the luckiest two people in Britain at the moment, to be playing for the Dragons."

"True," Harry admitted. "But that might just attract worse relationships as people will be glory hunting."

"True," Katie repeated, eliciting a chuckle from Harry. She then leaned forward, with a playful glint in her eye: "What if you and I just combined forces? The two unluckiest people and we give the bird to all the crappy boyfriends/girlfriends we've had?"

Harry frowned slightly: "Are you asking me out?"

"Well, not actually," she back-tracked, blushing slightly. "I mean, what if we make it seem to the public as if we are, that way we don't attract glory hunters. Guys won't go after me because that would be stealing the Harry Potter's girlfriend and vice versa. And bitches know I can throw a mean right hook."

Harry laughed at the last bit: "Alright, deal. So when does this 'relationship' start?"

"Once we've got the media's attention fixed on us," Katie replied.

"Oh, because I don't already," Harry said sarcastically.

"What I meant is that we should start building up some 'suspicion' in the Dragons camp, with some kind of growing attraction being hinted at, then 'overly personal celebrations' during/after the first game, should we win, and then perhaps even after said game, if not the one after, being spotted leaving the stadium holding hands."

Harry had procured a writing utensil and used a napkin to write all this down. When he finished, he looked down at the notes.

"Alright, I like the sound of this," he said approvingly, then shot a glance at his watch. "Merlin's beard, it's late! I'll have to get going. See you later, babe!" he added that last bit quietly and with a wink in her direction, eliciting a laugh from the blonde.

"Until next time, Cap'n!" she called after him.