Harry Potter and the HQL - Chapter - 2

The atmosphere in Paris was electric. The grand ballroom of the French Wizarding Broomstick Association was lavishly decorated, filled with the best minds in the broomstick industry—designers, manufacturers, and professional Quidditch players from across the world.

Harry, Neville, Fred, and George had never been in such a prestigious gathering before. As the owners of Star Broomsticks, they had received a formal invitation to the unveiling of the newest and most advanced broomstick to date—the Firebolt.

For Harry, it was an exhilarating experience. He had the rare opportunity to meet renowned broom designers, industry leaders, and Quidditch stars he had only ever read about. The Firebolt was a masterpiece, something so advanced and refined that it outshone any broomstick on the market.

Fred and George, meanwhile, were completely starstruck by the professional Quidditch players in attendance. The likes of Viktor Krum, Gwenog Jones, and other star Seekers and Chasers were present, each of them eager to get their hands on the Firebolt.

And when the Firebolt was unveiled, the room went silent in awe.

Sleek, aerodynamic, and magically enhanced for both speed and control, the Firebolt was a work of pure craftsmanship. Harry, already a skilled broomstick designer in his own right, knew immediately—none of his own brooms came even close to this level of perfection.

But there was one problem.

It was expensive.

Extremely expensive.

No average wizard could afford a Firebolt without spending a fortune.

And that’s when an idea started forming in Harry’s mind—Star Broomsticks needed to compete. They needed to develop a broom that could rival the Firebolt, but at a much more affordable price.

While Harry and the others were deeply involved in the broomstick discussions, Sirius was, as expected, busy socializing—mostly with the beautiful part-Veelas.

Apollina Delacour and her daughter Fleur Delacour were present at the event, representing France’s high-society wizarding elite. Apollina was a stunning woman, carrying herself with grace and confidence, while Fleur, though younger, already possessed the otherworldly charm of a Veela.

Sirius, of course, was enamored.

Fred and George had to hold back their laughter as Sirius turned on the charm, doing his best to impress Apollina. He spoke fluent, albeit slightly outdated, French, made grand gestures, and tried to outshine every other wizard in the room.

"I was quite the Quidditch player myself, you know," Sirius said smoothly, flashing a grin. "Not professionally, of course, but my natural talent was undeniable."

Apollina smiled politely, clearly amused but not entirely convinced. Fleur, on the other hand, whispered something to her mother, her Veela allure making several nearby wizards trip over themselves trying to impress them.

Harry shook his head, muttering to Neville, "If Sirius keeps this up, he’s going to make an international scene."

Before the event ended, Harry made a decision.

If Star Broomsticks was going to compete, they needed to understand the Firebolt inside and out. And to do that, he needed to own one.

So, just like he had done with every major broomstick model in the past, Harry ordered a Firebolt for himself.

He wanted to test it, analyze it, and break down every component to figure out how it was made. The Firebolt was undoubtedly the best broomstick in the world right now—but Harry wasn’t about to let Star Broomsticks fall behind.

After the function concluded, Harry, Neville, Fred, George, and Sirius returned to England.

As soon as they arrived back at Highgarden, Harry called for a meeting.

"Alright," he said, placing his hands on the table. "We have a serious problem."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "You mean the fact that Firebolt has officially made our brooms look like a joke?"

Neville nodded. "We either step up, or we’re out of the game."

Harry took a deep breath. "We need to design a broom that can come close to the Firebolt. Otherwise, Star Broomsticks won’t last."

Sirius, looking up from a letter (probably from Apollina), smirked. "Then it looks like you lot have your work cut out for you."


After returning from the Firebolt launch in Paris, all Harry could think about was creating a better broomstick—one that could rival the Firebolt, or at least come close.

For years, Harry had been known for two things:

The Boy Who Lived, famous for accidentally defeating Voldemort as a baby.

The young broomstick innovator, known for crafting high-quality broomsticks through Star Broomsticks, a company he co-owned with Neville, Fred, and George.

And between the two, Harry knew which one truly mattered.

Defeating Voldemort was an accident. A fluke of fate, something he had no control over. But building broomsticks? That was his own achievement. Something he had done with skill, effort, and a conscious mind. If he was going to be famous for something, he wanted it to be for his work—not his past.

A few days after their return, Remus arrived at Highgarden with exciting news.

"I’ve found the perfect place for the business," he announced over breakfast. "A large property on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Big enough for at least forty people to work comfortably. And there’s open land around it, so you’ll be able to test the brooms freely without worrying about onlookers."

Harry didn’t need to hear more. He and his partners—Neville, Fred, and George—quickly made their way to Hogsmeade to finalize the agreement.

When they arrived at the massive workshop space, Harry was immediately impressed. The building was sturdy, spacious, and had the potential to become something incredible. They reviewed the documents, and after careful inspection, they signed the lease, officially securing the property under the Star Broomsticks name.

The moment the paperwork was complete, Harry took charge of securing the property.

Harry had always had a natural talent for warding—he had spent years learning the intricate art of magical protections. With his wand in hand, he walked the perimeter, weaving layers of strong wards around the entire workshop:

Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey barriers, ensuring no one could teleport in or out.

Detection wards, to alert them of any unauthorized intrusions.

Obscurity charms, making it harder for outsiders to recognize what was inside.

Reinforced protection spells, shielding the property from external magical attacks.

Fred and George watched in fascination as Harry carefully inscribed runes along the workshop’s foundation, reinforcing the structure with magic.

"You know," George said, nudging Fred, "we should really learn how to do this ourselves."

Fred grinned. "If Harry ever gets tired of broom-making, he could make a fortune as a professional warder."

Harry smirked but didn’t stop his work. He wanted this place to be impenetrable. They weren’t just making brooms—they were creating something revolutionary, and secrecy was paramount.

While Harry worked on the wards, Sirius handled the business side of things. He had gone to Gringotts to have the goblins draft magical contracts for their future employees.

Since Star Broomsticks was going to be handling secretive projects, they needed contracts that would:

Bind employees to secrecy, preventing them from leaking any designs.

Ensure loyalty, so they wouldn’t be sabotaged by competitors.

Protect Star Broomsticks from intellectual theft, ensuring that all broomstick innovations remained under their ownership.

When Sirius returned from Gringotts, he grinned triumphantly as he waved the scroll of contracts in the air.

"All set!" he declared. "Anyone who signs these will be magically bound to confidentiality and loyalty. If they try to sell our secrets, the contract will activate serious consequences."

Fred whistled. "You’re scarily efficient when it comes to scheming, Sirius."

Sirius smirked. "I take that as a compliment."

With the workshop secured and the contracts ready, the real challenge began—designing a broomstick that could rival the Firebolt.

Harry knew it wouldn’t be easy. The Firebolt was a masterpiece of magic and craftsmanship, and Star Broomsticks was still a young company. But if they didn’t push forward, they would never survive in the highly competitive broomstick market.

As he stood in the newly warded workshop, looking at the vast space ready to be filled with workers, tools, and designs, Harry made a silent promise to himself.

"We’ll do it. We’ll build something incredible."

And so, the race to innovate began.


Sirius had so many plans for the summer—plans to finally spend time with Harry, to go on trips, explore the world, and maybe even cause a little bit of trouble together. After all, Harry had spent most of the year at Hogwarts, and Sirius had imagined that once summer came, they would finally bond as godfather and godson.

But there was one problem.

Harry was obsessed.

Ever since the Firebolt launch, Harry had been completely immersed in broomstick design and company expansion. From morning dueling sessions to spending the rest of the day perfecting schematics and magical enhancements, it was almost impossible for Sirius to pull him away from work.

"Come on, Harry," Sirius had tried several times. "Let’s go have dinner somewhere. Just you and me. Godfather and godson bonding time."

"Maybe later, Sirius," Harry would say, barely looking up from his designs. "I have to finish these enchantment sequences first."

It had reached the point where even Remus was giving Sirius pitying looks.

"I thought he was supposed to be the responsible one," Sirius had grumbled to Remus one evening. "Now I’m the one being ignored because of work!"

Remus had only chuckled. "Now you know what it’s like when you’re the one waiting for someone to stop obsessing over a project."

Despite his frustration, Sirius couldn’t deny one thing—Harry was a natural leader.

The day after Star Broomsticks sent out job advertisements in The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler, hundreds of applications arrived. News had spread quickly, and wizards and witches from all over Britain wanted to work for the fast-growing broomstick company.

Harry, along with Neville, Fred, and George, had set up their first proper office in the Hogsmeade workshop, where they began sorting through applications.

Harry had very specific requirements for their future employees. He wasn’t interested in just anyone—he was looking for wizards and witches who had:

Mastery in Charms – Essential for enchanting broomsticks to improve speed, balance, and flight precision.

Expertise in Ancient Runes – Needed to engrave magical stability runes into the wood, ensuring that the brooms remained powerful and long-lasting.

N.E.W.T.-level qualifications – While not a strict requirement, anyone with a high-level education in magical crafting, spell-work, or transfiguration was given extra consideration.

Harry personally led the interviews, going through a rigorous selection process to ensure that only the best candidates joined their team.

The interview days were long and exhausting. He had to meet with each applicant, testing their knowledge, their practical skills, and their understanding of magical engineering.

Fred and George, while helping to organize the interviews, were also keeping track of potential prank-worthy applicants—those who had a bit too much personality for a simple broomstick-making job.

"That guy was fun," Fred whispered after one applicant left.

After days of interviews, Harry finally selected twenty candidates who showed the right balance of skill, intelligence, and creativity.

By the time the process was over, Harry was exhausted.

Neville stretched his arms after signing the last hiring approval document. "If I have to interview one more person about rune integration, I think I’ll hex myself."

"At least it’s done," Harry said, leaning back in his chair.

Fred grinned. "And now the real fun begins—getting them to actually work without blowing up the shop!"

Sirius, who had been watching the entire process from the sidelines, finally saw his chance.

"So now that your company is set up," Sirius said with a sly grin, "maybe you can spare one evening for dinner with your dear old godfather?"

Harry, too tired to argue, sighed. "Fine. Just one night."

Sirius grinned victoriously.

"Perfect. Now put on something decent—we’re going to have a proper godfather-godson night out!"

Sirius had dragged him out of Highgarden, declaring that it was time for some godfather-godson bonding—no broomstick designs, no interviews, no training, just a proper night out.

And so, they found themselves in a lively wizarding pub, somewhere in the heart of London’s magical district. The place was filled with laughter and music, the air thick with the scent of buttered firewhiskey and roasted dragon skewers. It wasn’t like the Leaky Cauldron—this place had a much wilder energy, the kind that only Sirius would know about.

Harry sipped his drink—a strong Butterbeer with a hint of firewhiskey—as Sirius regaled him with stories of his misadventures as a Marauder.

"So there we were, James and I, covered in fur and running for our lives because Remus had no idea we weren’t actual deer—"

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "I can’t believe you managed to survive Hogwarts."

"Neither can I," Sirius smirked. "But speaking of amazing things—"

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, elegant envelope. The wax seal had the emblem of the International Quidditch Association pressed into it.

Harry took the envelope and opened it—his eyes widened as he pulled out a shimmering set of World Cup tickets.

Season tickets.

"Sirius—"

"Not just for you," Sirius said, grinning. "There are enough for you and your friends. Full access to every match in the World Cup, from the opening round to the finals."

Harry was speechless.

Ever since he started studying Firebolt, he had been desperate to see how top-tier players handled them in real matches. The Firebolt is the broom of choice for professional teams, and if Harry wanted to improve Star Broomsticks, he needed to see its performance in action.

"Sirius, this is—this is amazing!" Harry exclaimed, turning the tickets over in his hands. "I’ll go to as many matches as I can—I want to see how the Firebolt handles in professional play."

Sirius grinned. "I figured as much. I know you won’t be able to watch every match, what with your whole ‘workaholic genius’ thing going on, but at least this way, you’ll have the option."

Harry chuckled. "You really know how to pick the perfect gift."

"Of course I do," Sirius said smugly. "It’s part of my charm."

Harry shook his head, but he couldn’t stop smiling. For the first time in a while, he felt excited for something outside of work. The Quidditch World Cup wasn’t just an opportunity to relax—it was a chance to study broom mechanics in the hands of the best players in the world.

Sirius leaned back, raising his mug. "To the World Cup?"

Harry grinned and clinked his glass against Sirius’s. "To the World Cup."