Harry was a likeable person. He was kind, and brave, and thoughtful, and an all around extraordinarily good guy. However, he was also a boy, and, like many young men his age, he enjoyed looking at pretty girls. This was not to say he was rude, or in anyway unkind, but he was susceptible to moments of weakness, which no one could reasonably blame him for. Of course, not many other young peoples' object of lust was a princess, who was not only perfectly capable of looking after herself, but also had six older brothers, a king for a father, and the entire British army to bestow great amounts of pain on "inappropriate" on lookers. Thusly, Harry usually tried to keep his staring to the barest of minimum.

Unfortunately for Harry, Ginny seemed to have made it her personal mission to thwart Harry Potter's intelligent plan. After all, what other reason could she have for waltzing back into his room wearing something utterly gobstopping.

Ginny had left in a short white night gown. She had returned in denim shorts, a straw hat and…what looked like a bra. Harry felt his eyes practically pop out of his skull.

"H—hi Ginny," he sputtered, trying to stop himself from staring at the huge amount of pale, creamy stomach she was showing below her top. Or, heaven forbid, what was showing though her top. Ginny's huge brown eyes widened.

"Harry?" she gasped. "What are- why- what happened to you?"

Harry smiled weakly. Eyes on her face, Potter, eyes on her face. "Like the disguise?"

"Oh, yes, it's wonderful!" she said, beaming. Then her smile turned mischievous.

"Like the outfit?"

"Yes! Wait! I mean, no, well, I mean…" he trailed off weakly. "Isn't it a little…showy?" Ginny laughed.

"It's not underwear, Harry," she said matter-of-factly. "It's called a bikini top. It's a type of swim suit. Everyone wears them nowadays, and I was thinking of going in for a dip." The beaming was back, and a single eye brow rose. "Would you care to join me?"

Harry had never before appreciated what a wonderful activity swimming was.

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"…so then Fred and George released this huge load of fireworks in her room! We didn't catch all of them for another two weeks! I don't think anyone expressed any interest in marrying either of them, at least until Alicia and Angelina," Ginny said, giggling. Harry too was having trouble concealing his amusement. He was having more and more trouble remembering Ginny was a princess.

"Ginevera!" called a low voice. The two teens whirled around to find, to their horror, the king coming towards them. Ginny groaned and sank lower in the pool, pulling Harry with her, so that only their heads were left out of the water. "Ginevera!" he said again, sounding shocked. "What on earth are you wearing? And who is this young man?"

Harry and Ginny were both floundering for something to say when a breathless voice called, "James! Ginny!"

They turned to see Hermione fairly flying towards them. Her hair was looking frizzier than normal, and her face was a rather frightening shade of pink.

"So-sorry, your Highness," she gasped, skidding to a stop besides the king. "This is James, er, Alexander, uh, Ryland. He's a friend of Ro—er, Prince Ronald. He's from… Luxemburg. Ronald met him while he was in Bulgaria." Here, she spared a glance over her shoulder, and Harry almost took a step back from the expression on her face. It was a glare that promised horrible retribution for running off the way Harry and Ginny had.

"Hum," said the king thoughtfully. "And how do you know this, Hermione?" he asked shrewdly. Hermione blushed, whether from the king knowing her name or from the question, Harry wasn't sure.

"Uh…" she said, throwing a desperate look at Harry and Ginny. Harry had no clue as to what to say, but Ginny did, as she immediately said, "I told her, Daddy."

The king and Hermione both turned to look at her. "Oh?" he asked, his eye brow rising in a look reminiscent of his daughters'. "Yes, I met him in Bulgaria too, and well, I needed so girl advice," said Ginny, reaching out and stroking Harry's hand, where it was clutching the side of the pool. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, and from the look of the king, he nearly did too.

"Oh," said the King. His eyes grew even wider. "Oh!" he looked uncomfortable. Harry knew the feeling well. "Er, darling, I, I understand, I think…but, why not just ask you're mother? I mean, I know she would love to help, and give, give…advice. But," added the king, seeming to realize exactly what Ginny was implying, "You are far too young to date anyways! Especially some boy I've never met!" Harry could feel his face burning. Hermione was coughing madly behind the King, obviously trying not to laugh, and though Ginny still had the same angelic expression on her face, the hand that was hidden by the wall of the pool was twirling a strand of her hair nearly faster than Harry could follow.

"Oh, Daddy," said Ginny, shaking her head. I'm not about to go to Mum for advice. I mean, it's just not done! And I'm 14! Nearly 15! I'm quite old enough for all sorts of things!"

The poor King blinked, looking horrified. "You mean, asking advice from parents is, er, out of fashion for you young people?"

Ginny nodded briskly, seeming to be all business. "Exactly."

The king seemed on the verge of speech, but he just looked from Ginny, to Harry, to Hermione. He sighed, and visually steeled himself. He nodded to them, and carried on his way, deep in thought, whistling what sounded like the Mario theme song. All three teens watched him until he was out of sight.

"What do you think you two are doing?" growled Hermione, all traces of laughter gone from her face. "Ron, Fred, George, and I have been looking every where for you! Have you forgotten that you are in hiding, Harry Potter? You are trying NOT to get noticed!"

"Oh, relax, Hermione!" said Ginny airily. "Not being noticed is the easiest way for Harry to be noticed! We're all royal! Being unnoticeable is simply not something we do!" Harry thought this to be a rather confusing statement, but Hermione looked thoughtful.

"I never looked at it that way before," she said, gazing at the sky and tapping her chin. Harry sighed in relief. Hermione was scary when she was angry.

"Well," Hermione said briskly, "it was still horrible of the two of you to run off like that. We were scared that you had been discovered or something!"

"You were scared, 'Mione. Not the rest of us," corrected a voice behind them. The turned to find Ron, Fred, and George walk up. Fred and George, seeing Harry and Ginny, immediately Transfigured their robes into swim trunks (Fred's was electric green with tiny bright blue "F's" decorating it, while George's was orange with yellow "G's") and dived in. Ron came to stand by Hermione.

"What happened to you two— Ginny! What the hell are you wearing?" asked Ron, sounding outraged. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Not you too!" she moaned. "Spare me the lecture, Ronald, Daddy's already taken care of it."

"But-I-well," sputtered Ron. He seemed torn between brotherly concern and, well, brotherly indifference. He compromised by jumping into the pool, changing his robes into swimming trunks mid jump.

"Whoa-ho!" said Fred, sounding vaguely impressed. "What did you just do?" Ron grinned lazily, expelling a stream of water from between his front two teeth.

"Hermione and Harry," he told his brothers. "Hermione was telling us about clothing transfiguration a few days ago, and then Harry wanted to try it, and we sort of started trying to out do each other, and well, Harry did this cool running blur thing, and I convinced him to show me how to do it."

Strictly speaking, this was not an entirely true recount. Hermione had been reading a book about Transfiguration, but it was Ron who wanted to test it out, and it was Ron who took several minutes to convince Harry to a competition. Ron had learned that, while Harry could be extremely shy, he was also fiercely competitive, and was quite a challenge to beat. Once you could convince him to play, that is.

"My dear Mr. Potter!" said Fred grandly. Harry jumped as Fred and George both threw an arm over his shoulders. "You have been hiding things from us!" the chorused. Harry blushed faintly.

Ginny decided to take pity on him.

"So you, I've been thinking…" she began. Fred and George immediately took off for the other side of the pool.

"Run!" yelled Fred through a mouth full of water. "She's been thinking again!"

"Don't you two have, I dunno, work or something?" Ginny asked her brothers curtly. Harry would have thought she was angry, except for the tale-tell twitch of her lips.

"Work?" asked George blissfully. "What is that you speak of?"

Ron snorted. Ginny rolled her eyes, and ignored this.

"Ask I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," she said pointedly, staring across the pool. Fred twiddled his fingers and George hummed what sounded like the theme from "Rocky".

"Seeing at summer break is in a week," continued Ginny, "do you two want to join us at our summer house?" Ron perked up at the question, and gazed intently at Hermione. She gasped.

"But, I thought… the royal summer house? But I thought that was only for the royal family!"

Ginny was unfazed. "Well, sort of, I suppose. But we're allowed to bring guests. It's just that no one had, that's all." Ginny shrugged, unconcerned, almost as though breaking tradition was a daily occurrence, which, Harry mused, seeing as its Ginny, it might be.

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Harry's first day of school was not like many other first days.

For one thing, he knew pretty much none of the material covered in any of his classes. For another, he had a professor following him around, despairing over the fact in front of class-full's of strangers.

Harry had never realized exactly how advanced the higher classes were till he partook in one. Harry had never heard of protective enchantments, the topic his Charms class was reviewing; he had never done cross species Transfiguration, and he hadn't even known dragons had hair, much less that they were used in 397 apparently easy potions.

"Goodness, Ryland, you are alarmingly behind," said an exasperated Professor Marchbanks, Harry's evaluator, outside of Herbology, where it had taken Professors Marchbanks and Sprout, plus Sprout's teaching assistant Neville Longbottom to free Harry from a Long-Limbed Fly Trap. "What do they teach you in Luxemburg?"

Harry blushed. "Well—"

"Defense!" gasped Hermione. Harry spun around to find Ron and Hermione, Hermione panting after sprinting from their last class. (Ron wasn't even breathing hard.) Neither of Harry's friends had been in any of his classes.

"Really?" said Marchbanks thoughtfully. "What DADA class is next?"

"Ours," said Ron hurriedly. "The fifth years."

"Well, Ryland, lets see what you can do," said Marchbanks, waving her hand in the direction of the Defenses classroom.

As the group made their way to the class, Harry walk steadily, looking calm and collected. He was feeling rather ill.

"Good afternoon," said Professor Lupin, who was fairly young, though his hair was flecked with grey, as Ron, Hermione and Harry scurried to their seats. "Now that we've all arrived," he sent a stern, though good natured, look in their direction, "we can begin what I believe will be a very interesting lesson.

"Now, most of the teachers are probably reviewing with you, yes?" there was a general nod of agreement. "Well, I personally feel like you deserve a break, seeing as OWLs are now over," there was a shudder through out the class, excepting Hermione, who just looked tired, "I thought we could have a friendly dueling competition."

Loud whispers, like tiny hissing fires, broke out across the class. Most people pointed to the back of the room, which was covered in mats.

"To keep this fair," started Lupin, ignoring his class. The room was silent instantly. "I have put half of the classes names into this hat, and the other half will chose who they are going to duel. The people whose names are in the hat have a variety of standing in the class. Once the first round is complete, and yes, the duels will be happening simultaneously, we will pair the winners again, and the second round will begin. It shall continue in this vain till we have one person left."

"Professor Lupin," started Professor Marchbanks, standing up. "You have a new student today. We are trying to place him into an appropriate class."

"Ah, yes," said Lupin, smiling at Harry. "Well, we do have an odd number of people in this class, Mr…?"

"Oh, Ryland, sir, James Ryland." Lupin's face flickered slightly when he heard James, but then the smile was back, and Harry felt his nerves ease a little.

"Do you feel comfortable, Mr. Ryland, with partaking in this competition?" asked the Professor. Harry considered.

"Yes, I think so," said Harry hesitantly. If this were any other class, the answer would be no, but Defense was what Harry was best at.

"Well, I'll just stick another name in the hat, and you can choose when it's your turn," said Professor Lupin kindly, rummaging through a drawer and picking a name at random.

He held the hat out to a round faced boy Harry realized was Neville, the TA; he was obviously not nearly as comfortable in Defense Against the Dark Arts as Herbology- Neville gulped and reached into the hat.

"H-Hannah Abott," read Neville. A short, blonde girl shot Neville a smile, which he attempted to return.

Soon all of the members of the class had names. Harry was the last to choose, so when he reached into the hat, there was only one choice.

"Draco Malfoy," he read. Ron groaned slightly, and Hermione looked nervous.

"What?" Harry hissed at them, trying to spot his competitor past the gossiping girls on his left.

"Draco's a bit of a—" began Hermione.

"A git," finished Ron. "Unfortunately, he's also the son of the wealthiest nobleman in England." Ron made a face. "Which means I have to be nice to him." Hermione looked slightly scandalized at Ron calling an obviously important person a git, but she didn't deny it was true. Harry's stomach swooped, and he ran his hands through his hair, unintentionally making it stick up even more (Fred and George, for all their enchantments, had been unable to make Harry's hair behave).

Professor Lupin cleared his throat, "Everyone, please find a mat at the back of the room, and begin in the basic dueling stance."

Harry hurried to comply, extremely grateful that his defense class had begun dueling already, and that he knew what to do. As Harry caught sight of his opponent, however, that gratefulness lessened.

Draco was one of those people who had obviously been trained since birth to be better than anyone else. Even Ron, with all his wealth and power, did not exude the same sort of arrogance and influence Draco did. He looked at Harry with evaluating eyes; obviously, he did not think Harry was worth his time. He glared at Harry, and, in a show of bravery he did not expect from himself, Harry glared back. He would be in such trouble when the truth came out, but Malfoy reminded Harry of Dudley, his cousin, and Harry hated his cousin.

"When I blow the whistle, you may begin," shouted Lupin. "Three, two, one!" the high pitched sound of the whistle was masked by as sudden shout of spells, which filled the room.

"Stufey!" said Draco lazily. Harry easily side stepped the spell, and sent back a Stunner of his own, which Malfoy barely dodged.

Harry immediately felt a change in the pace of their duel. Malfoy bared his teeth and narrowed his eyes; he began to throw spells at a furious speed, all of them with a much greater potential for injury. Harry was able avoid all of them. He silently thanked anyone who could be listening that Hermione had always pushed him to work far beyond his grade level when it came to defense.

Harry quickly put up a reflecting shield charm. Draco scarcely had time to raise his own shield to keep from being hit with his own Freezing Charm before Harry shouted "Tarantallegra!" and "Expelliarmus!" in quick succession. Malfoy was able to keep the shield up long enough to avoid the Two-Step Hex, but the force of Harry's Disarming spell broke through Malfoy's shield and sent him crashing into a wall, his wand sailing through the air. Harry held out a hand and the wand fell neatly into it.

Harry became aware, suddenly and much to his surprise, that the whole Defense class was watching him. Even the Professor was starring. Apparently Draco and Harry's duel had been the last to conclude.

"Well…that was excellent boys!" exclaimed Lupin, obviously trying to recover. "Mr. Malfoy, excellent as always, of course, but Mr. Ryland, that was extraordinary! You have quite a talent!"

Harry blushed. He sneaked a look at Malfoy. Draco's face had turned an interesting shade of pink. He had a rather ugly expression on his face, and his hands were clenched into tight fists.

Harry gulped. Something told him he had just made his first enemy.