The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 40: Fathering Business

This is the promised continuation, everyone! Enjoy!

Harry yawned. Ten minutes has already passed, and still there was no news about the quidditch game. He looked around and saw that people were clamoring for the game to continue, including his friends.

His musings were stilled when he felt Hermione lightly nudge his side. He turned towards her, "Hey, stranger. Iara's waving at you."

Harry looked to where Hermione was pointing, and smiled widely as he saw Iara waving enthusiastically at him.

"I think she wants you to go down, Harry," Hermione continue to say as she herself waved back.

Harry grabbed her hand and dragged her to where Iara was standing. As soon as they were near, Iara was obviously filled with instant relief.

"Hey-"

Harry did not even had the chance to greet Iara properly, as she barraged her with ramblings, "Harry, you really need to help us! You need to help your team! I mean, you're a Snake, right? I think your Dad won't mind. It's for Slytherin! Please, please, please! Please, Harry! You need to play! You need to--"

Harry held up a palm of his hand to stop her. He really couldn't understand a word due to her voice being so shrill and really, it hurts his ears.Then his eyes widened as the words washed over him. A familiar tingle of thrill made him want to jump up and down. A real quidditch game! The team needed him!

Iara bit her inner cheek and started to speak again as soon as Harry let down his hand, but was abruptly stopped as Harry said, "Iara, slow down. Say that again, please."

Iara heaved in a lungful of air, "Harry, it's doom. Doom is coming and not on the great side. Harry," she put Harry's cute firstie face in between her hands and she squeezed his face, making Harry look silly, but looking, full attention towards Iara, "you need to get on a broom and play my position."

"Uh, 'Ara, pleash donth do dat."

"Listen kid, put your warrior blood pumping and get. Out. There. We need you, Snape, and we need you to win this game! The team needs you, laddie. So, please, Harry, don't ever give me a no on this."

Face still squeezed, Harry asked, "Why? Where's Tim?"

Iara gave a strong, disappointed, angry look, "Don't ever mention that dolt, Snape. Never. Ever. He's a coward! We don't need cowards like Acker!" Then she gave him a hopeful look, "We need people like you, Harry Snape. I've never seen anyone ride a broom like the daredevil that you were. That day- damn- but that day, I found a quidditch player. That day, Snape, I. Found. A. Seeker. So get out there, Snape. The snitch calls!"

Harry was finally released from Iara's grasp. His heart was left thumping like a man possessed. He looked around. The pitch, the stadium, the call for adventure. It was beautiful. So beautiful. Iara was right; the snitch calls. The snitch calls. The. Snitch. Calls.

And it calls to him. To his very soul, to the very core of his being. He could very well hear his blood singing 'Snitch, Glorious Snitch! Catch the glorious snitch!' It was so wondrous Harry couldn't compare it to anything he ever heard in his life.

"Harry? Harry!" Iara was shaking him again.

"Huh?" He broke out of his daydreaming, verdant jades blinking owlishly.

"Will you play?"

Harry gulped. Play. Like, really play. Real Quidditch. Not practise, not mock games, not even tryouts. Iara and the team wanted him to play, for real. On a broom, soaring up in the sky, wind in his hair--