"Settle down, settle down," Ross said to the crowd of the reporters who were getting exceedingly noisy. Ross himself was feeling a little tensed. Of course, when compared to the elation after their first victory in many many years, it didn't matter really. Still, the tension was there, however small.

He eyed the crowd rather nervously. Truth be told, he was not a people person. Ragmar, the manager, was usually the one to handle all press related matters, including post match interviews. As for the reason why Ragmar was not present here?

"Where is Mr. Dorkins?" was precisely the first question asked by one of the reporters.

"Boss.. err.. Mr. Dorkins had a little mishap," Ross explained nervously.

"What kind of mishap?" the reporter followed.

Internally cursing the reporter for putting words in his mouth, Ross replied reluctantly, "You see, he.. err.. had a small accident.. that is to say, he fainted right after the match and is now being treated at the St. Mungos. Poor man was standing on the sun for the entire match period, it must have got him."

Of course, it was a blatant lie. Well, not exactly. Ragmar did indeed faint, yes, but it was not due to standing on the sun for prolonged hours. It was due to the excitement and disbelief of the Cannons winning the match. Ross, too, would have once fainted due to the shock of the unlikely event but that was before he had met Harry Flamel. After meeting him, nothing felt impossible anymore.

"Let's begin then, shall we?" Ross attempted to mimic what he had seen over the years with Ragmar on the post-match interviews.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet,"

ahh.. The one who reported about that scandal with Jennifer Hawk of the Harpies.. , Ross reminded himself.

"Who is your seeker?" She asked in the most direct way possible.

Ross had a very good idea of how things were going to progress in the interview. Specifically, it was all going to be about their new seeker, even a Hogwarts' firstie could see that.

"A person," Ross replied with a face as straight as an ironing rod (not that wizards had an ironing rod in the first place).

The reporter, Skeeter, couldn't believe at the blatant attempt of dissmissing her question.. ohh this was going to be so interesting!

"Yes, Mr Villager, we could tell that he was a person, what with his resemblance to a wizard and such but what I.. and most of the ones present here, want to ask you is that what is his name? What does he look like minus the Quidditch helmet and the goggles? Is it really a he? Or does she just have a flat chest? Basically, who is your seeker!"

Rita had asked the right question. Most of the reporters in the room had now forgotten about the Cannons winning the game and the fact that the captain and keeper of the team, Matthews was sitting besides the coach. They had even forgotten the fact that Ragmar Dorkins had had a Heart attack due to the shock of them winning and was carried off to St. Mungos. The only thing that now mattered for the reporters, was the identity of the Cannons' new Seeker.

And this was quite troublesome for the coach, Ross, as well as for the captain Matthews. It was not a well-known fact that the players in a quidditch club were required to sign a magical contract which prevented them from sharing the secrets of the club. This was designed in particular to prevent the theft of club specific training methods by other clubs. While the contract wasn't so severe as to strip the magic off a wizard on its violation, it certainly did have a strong compulsion on it. A compulsion that was currently acting on both Ross and Matthews.

In an overly enthusiastic gesture of good-will, inspired by Harry's phenomenal performance on first couple of training sessions, Ragmar Dorkins had made his identity a club secret. Which basically meant that neither Ross, nor Matthews were allowed to share it to outsiders. While Ross had meant to keep Harry's secret since the start, Matthews, on the other hand, was fighting the compulsion charm due to his contract.

"Well.." Ross began, "You see.. he values his privacy highly.."

Before Ross could continue, Skeeter pressed on,

"Surely you could at least share his name?"

Even thinking the name Harry Flamel was making Ross' brain fuzzy, there was no way that he would be able to communicate it. Faced with a compulsion charm on one end and an intensely curious crowd of correspondents on the other, Ross was feeling quite miserable. And as so happens on the times when one feels desperate, a brilliant idea sparked on his mind (which, he will feel some hours later, was not so brilliant after all). The origin of the idea had been a loo session that Ross had underwent in the middle of the game.

The Cannons, being a very fan oriented club, had installed wireless receptors in the loo, so that the fans wouldn't have to miss even a minute of the game while relieving themselves. The decision itself was met with mixed response where one half thought that it was the best thing since pumpkin juice, while the other half were simply weirded out by the idea of listening to the commentators exclaiming, "Oh what a performance," each time they took a dump. In the end though, the enthusiastic portion had won out and the wizarding wireless receptors had stuck on.

Ross, on his hasty session, had chanced a narrative from the commentators about, "Seeker X is absolutely phenomenal today!"

That narrative had earned only a small chuckle from him at that time. Turned out, it had a much greater role to play.

"His name, esteemed witches and wizards," he paused for a while, enjoying the fact that almost every one on the room were holding out on their breaths.

Let it never be said that Ross Villager of the Cannons didn't have a flair for dramatics!

Now Ross wasn't the brightest lumos on the wand, his mama had made it perfectly clear during his childhood (for which he may or may not have resented her to this day), but he at least had the sense to not copy the name so blatantly.

"Ahem, as I said, his name, estee-"

"""Yes, yes get on with it!""" The reporters practically shouted at him.

Che! no fun at all...

"His name is, Cikar Eex !" Ross said with some threatics, lessening the e on the first word and prolonging the e on the second.

Stunned.. was the only word that could be used to describe the reaction that followed his proclamation, making Ross quite proud to have handled the situation thus. Before he could enjoy the feeling of proudness though,

"You just changed the enunciation on 'Seeker X', didn't you!?"

Cried one of the reporters, who had been listening to the wizarding wireless after all!

"What? I would.. never !" Ross tried, but desperately failed, to mimick the feeling of indignation.

Clearly, the reporters didn't believe his words which made Ross feel bad a little. After all, he had no idea at that time that he had just cemented the name Seeker-X on the Quidditch world for years to come!

Seeker X, a Muggle?

Rita Skeeter,

In what this reporter believes, and experts agree, was an absolutely phenomenal performance from a seeker on a quidditch game since the law that allowed seekers to punch the players targeting them was abolished in 1500, our mysterious seeker from the Cannons who the Quidditch community has named, Seeker X for his seemingly mysterious appearance and identity, captured the snitch within hour mark, winning the game 250-60 to the Cannons against the Falcons.

Seeker X, not only showed brilliant performance by capturing the snitch from right between the brutal brothers, Carl Brutal and Calvin Brutal, but also showed the qualities of an excellent chaser by successfully dodging myriads of bludgers thrown at him by the brothers. Incidentally, he fell short of only ten bludgers from the record against seeker Paul Gerard from the Caerphilly Catapults.

"The man passed, dodged, captured the snitch, I tell you he is an all round package," said Roger Nye, which I am sure that our readers would recognize as previous chaser from Willborn Wasps and current commentator for the Wizarding Wireless. "The way he flew, why I felt as if I were watching a bird itself! I tell you, that man was born to fly on a broomstick!" added William Corn, previous Keeper from the Kenmare Kestrels as well as another of the WW's commentators.

Amidst all these praises, the question that I as well as many other of my reporter friends were extremely curious about in the post match interview was the identity of the man himself. So imagine our surprise, when the coach of the Chudley Cannons, Ruth Villager, dismissed us in a not so subtle manner by deliberately feeding us the false name that the two illustrious commentators had conjured. Which begs the question, what's so mysterious about Seeker X that the Cannons even refuse to tell us his name? This question carried this hard working reporter to a quest of most curious nature.

Dear readers, you would be shocked to hear that no one, and I mean that absolutely no one from the club was willing to give me any sort of answer regarding the man's identity, so this reporter did what she is best at doing, digging facts. In pursuing Seeker X's origin, this reporter met Tommy Randal, the seeker of the junior leagues of Chudley Cannons who gave up the position in favor of our Seeker X and he had this to say, "Well, he was a decent bloke. I don't remember his name but he looked quite dashing, not that I swing the other way, mind. Still, with blonde hair and blue eyes, he looked like a muggle superstar, you know what I mean?"

And this, dear readers, was what I found out! Cannons refusing to divulge his identity, Seeker X failing to show for the post-match interview, Ragmar Dorkins avoiding the reporters? All fact points to one inevitable conclusion. The illustrious seeker from Cannons, can very well be a muggle! It remains to be seen what the ministry of magic decides upon this tidbit that this reporter has uncovered with such hard work. We will, of course, keep you up to date.

For more information on Quidditch sightings by muggles, turn page 4

For reading more on Carl brutal's statement about 'doing his mom so bad the next time..' and other Quidditch related gossips, turn page 5.

"So Severus, apparently, I am a muggle," Harry said, putting the newspaper back, with a undisguised amusement on his voice.

"And I am Merlin," Snape replied promptly.

Harry raised his eyebrows at him, amusement never leaving his face, "At least Rita Skeeter believes such."

"She is an idiotic cow whom I had the displeasure of interacting with in my school days. I would take everything she says with a cube of salt, a rather large cube of salt."

"Never knew you were so fond of salt, Severus," He smirked before continuing, "anyways tell me why you are here."

Snape looked at him in a calculating manner, "Am I not welcome here anymore?"

Harry looked at the man with equal exasperation, "Quit it Severus."

There went Snape's playing-the-indignant card. Deciding that it was best to be honest, he continued, "I was conducting an experiment."

"Oh?" Harry raised his eyebrows, "What sort of experiment?"

"I merely wanted to know when it was the easiest to reach your.. this place," Snape replied.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Let me guess, you finished your mastery thesis and had time to spare, didn't you?"

Snape huffed but ultimately nodded.

"Very well, what were your findings then?" Harry asked.

"I have found, through multiple apparations without any destination in mind, and before you say, it is indeed dangerous so I always had a splinching potion on hand. As I was saying, through multiple apparations without any destinations in mind, I have found that it is the most easiest to reach this place on Tuesday and Saturday, the minimum being five apparation efforts on Tuesday-"

Before he could continue, Harry stopped him, "Wait, you have been coming here all week?"

Snape scowled at him, "Yes, but I came only to check my hypothesis and for nothing more."

"I believe you, no need to get so defensive.. sheesh!"

"As I was saying, it is easiest to reach you on Tuesday and Saturday and the hardest on Wednesday and Friday, my maximum being thirty apparitions on one Wednesday," he concluded.

Harry blined incredulously. Thirty apparitions? Snape sure was tenacious.. if nothing else.

"How did you even find the time for your experiments?" Harry asked curiously. The man had just begun teaching at Hogwarts after all.

"I managed," Severus said mysteriously.

"You are deliberately not giving any assignments to the class to avoid grading them, aren't you?" Harry sighed.

Snape scowled, was there nothing that he could keep secret from him?

"You know Severus, your experiments were a waste. As I have repeatedly told you, you come here when you want to come here. There's nothing more to it."

Snape scoffed and muttered something which eerily sounded like, "Old coots and their riddles.."

Harry could have argued some more but decided against his better judgement.

"But really, wasn't your mastery supposed to take a year though?"

Snape smirked, "I have decided to submit my recipe for the Wolfsbane potion."

"The one that Amber mentioned?" Harry asked.

Snape's scowled (again!) a bit at the mention of Amber's name but nodded nevertheless.

"So you just decided to submit one of your old works? Don't you.. I don't know, want to do something new?"

"It is not necessary," Snape said with a tone that Harry understood meant.. I don't want to talk about it.

Giving up on it, Harry started a new line of conversation,

"Anyways, now that you have completed your potions thesis, with a year to spare, I might add. What are your plans?"

"I wished to talk about the same, as a matter of fact," said Snape a little hesitantly.

Hary nodded, signalling him to continue,

"I can now get myriads of job so I need not be on Hogwarts anymore.."

"Oh?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Frankly, I can't stand the dunderheads. They don't even have the sense of taking the cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills on a simple boilcure potion!"

Harry smiled, thinking about Neville in his first year. But surely Snape couldn't have been put off by something so.. meager?

"That's not the real reason, isn't it?" Harry asked with a smirk.

Snape sighed in a tired way. There was no hiding things from these old relics, he concluded. And though he didn't want to divulge his real reason for rushing his mastery thesis, he had already realized that hiding things from Flamel was more trouble than it was worth.

"It's Black.. He is infuriating!"

"um hmm.. Go on," Flamel encouraged.. And like a dam that had been released, words came out from Snape's mouth on its own. Words that Snape's Slytherin side would have definitely never uttered. About how Black always targeted him at school, how Black always got away from punishment, how Black always changed his hair color in front of his students, how he could not simply stand looking at him.

"And worst of all is that cursed name! Snivellus, he calls me! I simply do not snivel! At all!"

While Harry would have begged to differ, this was not the time.

After letting out some more words, Snape heaved a huge sigh.. It felt oddly comforting to have shared his worries with others, which was directly in conflict with his Slytherin values which dictated that one simply did not share them, for worries were weaknesses and weaknesses could be exploited.

"Soo.. What you mean to say, is that Black is being mean to you?" Harry asked carefully.

"Yes!" Snape said a bit too quickly and immediately felt like a twelve year old complaining to his parents. The small hint of red that were on his cheeks did not go unnoticed by Harry.

"Well you do always retaliate, don't you? He calls you Snivellus, you call him mutt. He colors your hair red, you color his green.. What's the problem then!?"

Snape snorted, "He practically revels in being called a mutt! And while I do retaliate, yes, it is most tiring to compete with an idiot with no other purpose than to make others' life miserable. I, unfortunately, do not have such time and energy. I would rather kill him and be done with it."

"Ahh.. but you can't exactly kill him now, can you?" Harry added.

"A shame, I assure you," he replied.

A idea then occurred to Harry and a grin formed on his face..

"Tell you what Severus, if I could somehow make Black, no.. anyone, stop calling you by that name, would you reconsider leaving Hogwarts? In fact, I will make you a proposal. The brewing process for wolfsbane that you have discovered cuts off the brewing time in half, right?"

Snape nodded.

"Then make a potion that cuts off the cost in half, and I will give you something that I know you would like tremendeously."

"Why?" Snape asked warily.

"Well, think of how much good you can do to the wizarding society (Snape scoffed). Alright alright, I have, as I have mentioned before, need of you in Hogwarts. Besides, would the Slytherin in you forgive you if you conceded to Sirius?" Harry asked a little provocatively.

Snape thought for a minute.. while looking at Black's face everyday was arduous on its own, he could grudgingly accept it in the favor of not hearing that blasted word ever from the cursed Marauder's mouth as well as a reward from Flamel.

"Fine," Snape replied, distaste not leaving his mouth.

A wand then appeared out of nowhere on Harry's hand.

Snape looked at it curiously and asked, "I have only seen you use a wand once."

Harry smiled in response,

"That is because I rarely use my wand.. But when I do use it,"

He let his words linger for a bit

"Things become most interesting!"

Currently in Godric's Hollows, the residence of the Potters, a curious scene was undergoing.

A rather charming looking man with long black hair and mischievous smile was pacing to and fro in a room full of three others.

"Would you stop that already," James Potter, the owner of the house as well as the friend of the rather restless Sirius Black finally said it out loud, "Merlin! I am tiring out by simply looking at you."

"But you don't understand James, they won! The Cannons won!"

All three people present in the room gave out a collective groan. For the past half hour or so, Sirius had been repeating the same thing again and again.

"Yes, Padfoot, we heard you the first time," a shabbily dressed Remus Lupin said with a hint of tiredness. It had just been full moon the other day and Remus still hadn't recovered.

Sirius looked a little guilty to have troubled his friend like that but his shock over the matter had entirely disturbed his common sense (which, some would argue, was practically non-existent.)

"Although," James began, "it does sound fishy."

Others, except Lily, perked up.

"I mean, think about it," James said while rearranging his glasses, "right at the beginning of the season, the Cannons acquire a new seeker, which isn't unusual at all. But they do not even divulge his identity? Not even his name? And his performance? Why if that pre-match checkup for Felix Felicius wasn't in place, I'd argue that he had overdosed on the liquid luck."

"And what," Lily said while raising her head from James' shoulder, "would warrant your justification on him using Felix Felicius? Surely playing with some brooms and balls can't be that impressive."

Lily's nonchalant remark had all the qualities to rile up any Quidditch loving fan. One in particular showed the most vocal reaction.

"Playing with brooms and balls!? Lils! How could you even say that!? It was the greatest sight I had ever had the fortune to lay my eyes upon," Sirius paused for a bit, "perhaps second.. My first always would be my bitch of a mother setting her hair on fire with that curse she had been attempting to teach me..

"But that's not the point! The man was magnificent Lily. You should have seen him take that dive.. The flying, the execution, the pull off.. It was perfect! Absolutely perfect. Almost made me forget about that hundred galleons I bet on the Falcons.."

Remus and James nodded solemnly. While they hadn't had the time to go and watch the game themselves, they had watched the ominoculars recordings of the game afterwards.

Outnumbered three to one, Lily did the only sensible thing she knew she could, she huffed and left the room while muttering "boys and their stupid games.." under her breath.

James, as if by reflex, got up and tried to go after her. Tried being the word. Remus was quick to pull him back on the couch.

"Let her be, Prongs. You need to stop hovering over her so much or you will tire her out!" he said.

James looked doubtful but a look at Sirius managed to convince him.

"I just.. I can't help it you know.. The minute she is out of my eyes, I fear that I may lose her again. I need her constant presence by my side to remind me that the last year was merely a scary nightmare."

"We understand James," Remus said kindly, "but you need to understand that this.." he gestured to everything around him, "is real. Lily is with you and will always be with you. Rose has got both her Mum and Dad with her now. This is not a dream James, stop fretting about it."

"I know.." he sighed, "I just.. It's just hard to believe, you know."

"Don't fret Prongs," Sirius piped up, "You have finally got the happy life you deserved and I swear to you that nothing will take it from you, not while I am alive!"

The seriousness in Sirius' voice startled him. Granted that he had been miserable for the last year and his friends had tried any and all methods to cheer him up without any real success, but he had no idea that their conviction was so strong. Sirius was practically placing James' happiness before his own well-being. Despite of being good friends for so long, this gesture touched him profoundly.

He said nothing and just stood up and hugged his best friend. Remus soon joined him and three friends exchanged silent vows of having each other's back for as long as they lived.

James could feel the fear of Lily waking up being a dream leave him completely. At that moment, he finally realized that he had his wife, his daughter and his friends with him and they were not just going to go away. For him, this moment would qualify for a corporeal patronus of a most powerful nature, one that he would make use of in the future.. repeatedly.

"Now," James said, breaking up the impromptu group hug, "how about we go up to the three broomsticks and harass our dear Rosemerta?"

A grin formed on Sirius' face while Remus sighed.

"A most excellent suggestion Mr. Prongs. What say you Mr. Moony!?" He asked with a mischievous smile.

"Need you even ask Mr. Padfoot?" Remus said with a small smile.

James smiled heartily. They would be finally going on a boys' night out after a long time. Not before reinforcing the wards on the house of course.

It is a very well known fact that alcohol lowers inhibition. Naturally, the fact also extends to magical drinks, such as Firewhisky. Consequently, people are much more prone to do stupid things, like for instance, divulge the things that they are not supposed to do, when under its influence..

"You met whom!?" James Potter nearly roared in fury, all influence of the drink he had been consuming a minute before gone.

"Calm down James," Remus said softly, he was beginning to think that he shouldn't have had so much to drink after all.

"How could I calm down Remus!? He sold my family to Voldemort (people around his table gasped)! He was the reason I lost Lily in the first place!" James was red with fury.

Dumbledore had, of course, told him all about the prophecy after James had hounded him for days. He had desperately wanted to know the reason behind Voldemort's obsession over his family which had ultimately led to Lily's condition. Naturally, he had also extracted, albeit with extreme difficulty, the identity of the one who had carried the knowledge of the prophecy to Voldemort.

Oh how he had wanted to kill Snape at that moment! Knowing that the slimy snake was the root of all his misery had fueled such a strong desire of revenge in him that four unfortunate Death Eaters would forever loathe the name James Potter. That is, if they ever managed to wake up in the first place from St. Mungos' permanent ward.

Unfortunately, Snape was never found by James. Many had suspected that he had gone underground to escape the wrath, not of ministry since Dumbledore had vouched for him, but of other Death Eaters who now knew him to be a traitor. Whatever be the cause, James had never found Snape and that had forever been an unquenchable fire on his heart.

Now though, Remus had let slip that he had met the man a week prior on Diagon Alley. Lily had opened her eyes and they had finally found Snape, James was having trouble believing his good fortune.

Remus, on the other hand, was beginning to fear the expression that was forming on his best friend's face. That was the face which Remus knew all too well, one of the inner animal. It wanted nothing more than to kill those who had wronged it. Just as Remus was beginning to get frantic, help arrived in the form of Sirius, who had gone to fetch more drinks.

"Who died!?" Sirius said, noticing the grave atmosphere between his two friends.

"Moony met Snape," James said darkly.

Remus was a little relieved to have Sirius back. He was the only one who could calm James when he got blinded by bloodlust. It was especially true in the days when Lily had had that accident. Now too, he was confident that Sirius could soothe James,

"Oh yeah, he is teaching at Hogwarts with me,"

Or not.

"WHAT!" James roared.

Sirius had the nagging sensation that he was forgetting something all over the week but he hadn't figured out what.. until now.

"And you didn't think to tell me!?" James said with a voice drenched in fury and accusation.

Now Sirius knew James' wrath. In fact, he still hadn't forgotten the stinging hex that James had hit him in his fifth year after he had stolen Lily's knickers, accidentally of course. As such, his mind began whirring in speeds uncommon to him to deliver an excuse (he wasn't simply going to say that he forgot!)

Now back in the day of the blood war, the Order had a saying between them, "when things are sore, think Dumbledore." Borrowing the same wisdom of the war, Sirius promptly replied,

"Dumbledore had asked me not to!" From there on, he just took off.. "You had just gotten Lily back and both him and I did not want to upset you. Besides, think James, would you have left Lily's side to hunt him down?"

Sirius wasn't padfoot in name only. He was a dog animagus and was well adept in mimicking various dog-like qualities, the hurt puppy look being his most infamous one. Granted that he didn't use it often in front of his own sex, this situation wasn't one for hesitation. Besides, it had the intended effect of deflating James' anger (and Remus stood corrected, Sirius could always calm James down).

"I understand.." James said. In all honesty, he could see Sirius' reasons. Not that he believed Sirius entirely, knowing him, he had probably forgotten about the entire ordeal and was just pushing blame on Dumbledore. Regardless, this was not the place or time to think about such things. And really, he couldn't just barge into Hogwarts right now and demand a duel with that snake, not while Dumbledore was there.. or Minerva for that matter.

"Thanks James," Sirius let out a breath of relief, "Now that's enough about Snivellus,"

Sirus said, attempting to divert his friend's attention from Snape, which turned out to be a bad move.. a very very bad move.

Universe, with a twisted sense of humor that it had.. brought Rosemerta, the well-endowed landlady of Three Broomsticks, to their table precisely at that time to ask whether they required anything else.

Suddenly, Sirius stood up from his chair and proclaimed, in a rather loud voice, for all those present to hear,

"Rosy Rosy Rosemerta,

I wish I could shag you,

Like I did sweet Gerta!"

...

...

Everyone around them was stunned at this sudden proclamation.

"The one before our year?" Remus whispered to James.

Too shocked to utter any words, James merely bobbed his head up and down.

"Wasn't she her niece?" Remus whispered again.

James bobbed his up and down again.

"The one that moved to France, heartbroken?"

James confirmed..

"And didn't Rosemerta swore to cut the bits off of whoever broke her heart in the first place?"

A nod again.

The whole pub was silent by now. Those who knew of the Gerta scandal some years prior had an incredible look about them, while those who did not were snickering quietly at the horrid proposal Black had just made to Rosemerta. Meanwhile, those who knew of Rosemerta's wrath had sneakily showed themselves the way out.. which included both Remus and James.

After a minute had passed, Sirius finally realized that he had messed up.. bad. He looked to his left and then to his right and muttered, "traitors," under his breath after finding neither of his friends around.

So much for having each other's back!

He then looked in front of him to see the pretty Rosemerta smile viciously, her wand tip glowing bright with a dangerous red.

"So.. Sirius Black, you want to knock me up like my niece, do you?"

Sirius, prompted by Universe which apparently still hadn't had its fill of humor yet, nodded dumbly.

Up until now, whenever Sirius thought of stinging hexes, he would envision an enraged James chasing him with his wands out, threatening to cut off little padfoot.. Henceforth, the vision would remain the same, albeit it would be Rosemerta instead of James.

Author Notes:

Thanks for reading dear readers! Have I ever mentioned how awesome you are !?

Btw, if you like the story, leave a comment for me! (leave it even if you don't!)