Disclaimer: I offer JK Rowling virtual agrimony for opening her work to fan fiction.

Chapter 21

"A Seeker, you say, Minerva?" said Albus Dumbledore, raising his bushy white eyebrows.

"I've never seen anything like it, Albus," Minerva replied with a rare air of excitement. "The boy's a natural. His first day on a broom, and he caught a practice snitch in a fifty-foot dive. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it, or at least not at his age."

"Hmm, very impressive," Albus said thoughtfully.

"If his guardians approve of him joining the team, I think we'll have a decent chance at the Cup this year," Minerva continued. "And heaven knows we need it. Severus was gloating for weeks after last year's match."

"Of course," Albus said with a smile. "And as the boy's magical guardian, I will happily grant my approval—"

"But you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't you know? Andromeda Tonks took over as both Harry's and Hermione's magical guardian over a month ago. Surely you were informed. I think you may be slipping, Albus."

The Headmaster seemed uncomfortable as he looked over to one corner of his office where he kept a large stack of government paperwork. He drew his wand and muttered a complex summoning spell. Two documents flew out of the middle of the stack and settled on his desk. He looked them over. There it was, just as Minerva had said. It was a minor point in the grand scheme of things and probably better for the children, to be honest, but he was a bit unsettled that it had managed to slip by him. "I must have missed it on the first pass," he said with a weak smile. "I trust that you will contact Madam Tonks and the Grangers?"

"Of course. I will keep you informed." She turned to leave, but looked back for a moment. "Oh, and I suspect that Draco Malfoy will be the Slytherin Team's Seeker by Monday," she added. She walked out down the spiral staircase.

Albus sighed. Why am I not surprised?

"Do you think we have time for karate practice before dinner?" Harry asked after McGonagall had dismissed them.

"After all that, you still want to practice karate?" Hermione said.

"Hey, you're the one who said we should practice every day."

"Hmm…" she checked her watch. "I guess we have time to run a few if we hurry up to the seventh floor."

They went on to the Grand Staircase and climbed up the four flights from their meeting with Wood to the seventh floor corridor. But they didn't particularly notice that someone was following them—someone who had been following them all the way from the Training Grounds.

Something about Harry Potter didn't make sense, thought Draco Malfoy. Maybe more than one something, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Could it be that these muggle sports of his really made the difference? He had heard the rumours filtering through the castle about Potter's and his sister's supposed "training". It was time he saw it for himself.

So he followed at a distance, planning to watch from the shadows to see what they were really up to. He motioned behind him for his friend to follow—not Crabbe or Goyle: they didn't have a clue about being discreet. He'd brought Theo Nott along with him. Ultimately, this was a matter for the Noble Houses, after all. Theo had an impatient look about him at the moment, but he reluctantly accepted the importance of intelligence gathering. Draco and Theo were all set to spy on the two without being seen, but they needn't have worried. As soon as they got close to the corridor, they heard quite a few more than two voices. He peered around the corner and saw that a group of half a dozen Hufflepuffs, led by Susan Bones, no less, had come to watch, and Potter and Granger were openly explaining to them what they were doing. Draco made a snap decision and just walked toward the group to see what would happen.

Then Potter and Granger started moving. They were fast—both of them. Draco wouldn't want to connect with one of those fists. (Of course, the thing to do would be to not let them get close enough.) That would explain their speed and precision on a broom, perhaps, but not Potter's intuitive flying skills. Could he really be just that good?

When they stopped moving after a couple of minutes, Draco noticed more than a few eyes falling questioningly on him and Theo.

"So what is this, your dance class?" Theo said; then he laughed at his own joke, but no one else did.

Potter stopped where he was and stared Theo down. It was a wary, almost predatory stare—or that's how it seemed after seeing him fly. "Is there a problem, Mr. Nott?" he asked politely.

Draco nudged Theo with an elbow. Fortunately, they were standing close enough that the action would be hard to spot.

"Just watching, Mr. Potter," Theo said. Draco nodded his agreement. And he watched them very carefully. He may have been a pureblood, but he was well-read, and this wasn't just a muggle skill. He had seen magical photographs of Japanese wizards from families two thousand years old practising these kinds of moves, though usually with a wand or staff. But, being (allegedly) raised by muggles, he wondered if Potter even knew that.

And, more pressingly, what did he and his sister think they were doing? Not flaunting their skill to intimidate, nor hiding it to keep it in reserve. If Potter was so politically savvy, what had Aunt Andromeda told him about this?

Something about Harry Potter definitely didn't make sense.

Potter and Granger broke it off to go down to dinner. And Draco and Theo again followed at a distance, discussing what they had seen in hushed whispers. Theo thought that Potter and Granger were just being careless, which was admittedly a possibility. But the thought crossed Draco's mind (though he did his best to dismiss it) that the martial arts could be a distraction. If they weren't hiding that, were they hiding something else?

He started formulating a plan, deciding on the safest way to give Potter another small prod. He considered the possible outcomes as he walked, just like his father always told him. The worst that could happen—if he was careful—would be that Snape would have to bail him out and dock a couple of points. The best case scenario…well, he could really nail Potter if he was lucky, but it would be a long shot. Yes, he thought it would be a good chance to take.

When he got to the Great Hall, he waved off Theo and quickly retrieved Crabbe and Goyle from the Slytherin Table and filled them in on what he had seen. Then, he walked around, for the second time that day, to the Gryffindor Table.

"So, Potter, you learnt to fight like a muggle?" he said with a practised sneer as he approached the scar-faced boy. "Sounds like a waste of time to me. Why would you bother?" He saw Granger turn pink at his words, and Weasley bristled across the table. Potter slowly stood up to face him.

Harry knew he should really tread carefully around Draco Malfoy, but anytime someone started talking about muggles like that around him, it was really starting to tick him off. "Why shouldn't I, Mr. Malfoy?" he said, stepping up the sarcasm. "You keep a pair of bodyguards like a muggle."

"I could take you anytime with a wand, Potter," Malfoy snapped. "I'll do it tonight if you want—wands at midnight—that is, if you're brave enough to have a proper wizard's duel—that's wands only, no contact. I assume you know about duelling, Potter?"

"Of course he does," Ron said, springing to his feet. "I can be your second if Hermione doesn't want to. I know a few good spells."

Harry, Hermione, and Malfoy all gave him a brief, confused look, and Harry held up a hand. "It's cool, Ron. Hermione, you know the school rules better than I do," he said rhetorically, "Is that actually allowed?"

"Well, since there's supposed to be no magic in the halls and no going out after curfew—no. The school's required to allow honour duels, but they have to be supervised by a professor."

"Right, and since there was no formal grievance issued, unless you care to name one, Mr. Malfoy, I think this would qualify as either an exhibition duel or an informal duel, which I'm guessing would both fall under Professor Quirrell's discretion."

"Correct, Mr. P-Potter." They all jumped as Quirrell himself appeared seemingly out of nowhere beside them. He still hadn't shaken that stutter when he said Harry's name. "And I am highly inclined to permit only public exhibition duels. There's not much point to having a duel in a school setting if others can't learn from it. Perhaps in the Great Hall in the free period after dinner, Mr. Malfoy?"

This wasn't one of the possibilities Draco had thought of. How in Merlin's name had Quirrell got here from the High Table so fast? But he could think on his feet. He recalculated the odds and went for it. "Fine by me, Professor. So what'll it be, Mr. Potter? I still say I could take you with a wand."

"Oh, I suspect you could, Mr. Malfoy. In fact, I'd be surprised if you hadn't had some special training in the subject. However, you do realise, don't you, that since you issued the challenge, I would be within my rights to call 'no wands', which would give me the advantage with my muggle training? Either way, it doesn't really sound like a fair fight."

Draco turned up his nose a hair, doing his best to mask his astonishment that Potter had just admitted to having inferior magic skills. A muggle duel, though? Could he shame Potter out of—? No, Potter had proved more than once today that he was smarter than that. "Well, I wouldn't want to be unfair," he said with a slightly mocking grin. "I guess we'll just have to settle this on the Quidditch Pitch, instead."

"I guess we will," Harry said with a grin.

"Sorry to bother you, Professor. I don't believe we have a dispute at the moment," Malfoy added.

As Malfoy and Quirrell both walked away, Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Really, Harry, that's three times he's tried to get a rise out of you today. What's he doing?"

"Probably seeing if he can get me in trouble," Harry replied. "I mean come on, an after-hours duel in the corridors? Who would buy that?"

"I don't know. He seems smarter than that. Maybe he's testing you."

"Well, it doesn't matter, does it? He won't learn anything really important."

"Not if you're careful," she warned. She dropped the matter and, as she often wound up doing, spooned some vegetables onto Harry's plate.

"I still would've been your second," Ron muttered.

"Ron, do you even know what a second does?" Hermione asked.

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die."

"No, Ron, a second is there to make sure nobody cheats."

"What, seriously? I'm gonna kill Fred."

"You know, I hate to admit it, but Malfoy's kind of right," a voice came from behind them. Harry and Hermione turned around and saw Su Li looking over her shoulder from the Ravenclaw Table. "I've seen plenty of martial arts, and they aren't going to stop anyone with a wand." Some of the other Ravenclaws nodded—some of the majority with whom they hadn't had this conversation yet.

"Yeah, we know that," Harry defended himself. "We're going to switch to duelling when we get the chance. Right now, we're mostly just staying in shape."

"Well, just be careful around Malfoy," said Mandy Brocklehurst. "Daphne Greengrass says he's been training in magic since he was nine."

"Sure. Will do, Mandy," Harry replied. Of course, he thought to himself, I've been training in magic since I was seven.

"Harry, are you sure about this?"

"Mione, Hagrid said Snape and my mum were friends in school. We don't really have any other connection to each other. He's got to be offering condolences for her death. What else could 'I regret absence' mean?"

It was Friday again, and that meant Double Potions with the Slytherins. Hermione was even more nervous than last week, since Harry seemed determined to reply to their professor's supposed message.

"I'm still not convinced there was a message at all," she told him.

"Malfoy seemed to think so. And he's the super-politically-trained kid. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Professor Snape could give you detention for your 'cheek'. And you get to explain it to Mum and Dad if he does."

"Fine, but he's not going to," Harry said confidently as they entered the Potions classroom.

"Today, you will be attempting to brew the Half-Watch Awakening Potion," Professor Snape said coldly. "Do read the instructions carefully, and try not to have any…mishaps." He glared at Ron and Neville. "Open your books to page nine and begin…Yes, Mr. Potter."

"Professor, I had a question about last week's potion," Harry said innocently.

The already cool dungeon seemed to chill a few degrees. Ron Weasley started making a small noise, trying to hint that Harry should back down. Now. Theo Nott and Crabbe and Goyle on the Slytherin side of the room started grinning at what they thought was about to happen, but Draco Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he watched closely. Everyone else was watching closely, too, waiting to see what would happen to the Gryffindor who dared to question Snape. For his own part, Snape merely cocked a single eyebrow.

"I read in one of my cousin's books on healing that many healing potions contain…agrimony," Harry said, almost truthfully, "but we didn't use it last week. Why wasn't it suitable for the Boil-Curing Potion?"

Severus Snape paused and regarded the boy. Could this just be a coincidence? But no, if anyone would have asked that for its own sake, it would have been Granger. Oh, yes, he had been watching Harry Potter closely these past two weeks, and he had to admit now that what he saw was not what he expected. True, he knew of the boy's past—the abuse and the adoption by, by all accounts, a very good family—but it was hard to look at that face and that hair and not see his father. But when Potter showed up at the first class decently prepared, it had been a wakeup call. And then, as he witnessed twice and heard a third time how Potter had verbally slipped his way out of being baited by Draco—something that was starting to seem like an unwise move on Draco's part—he was forced to conclude that this was not James Potter. Nor, again, was he Lily Evans, though he was unmistakably the son of both, and this sealed it. There was no reason for the boy to know the Language of Flowers off the top of his head, although his studious sister might have caught it. To even think to look for a coded message in Snape's questions was something only James would do, but to actually take the time to reply—that was pure Lily. She had truly given him more than her beautiful green eyes.

"Excellent question, Mr. Potter," Snape said.

Several of the Slytherins' jaws dropped, and the Gryffindors covered their mouths to stifle a gasp. Ron had a small coughing fit. Neville froze like a deer in headlamps, and Lavender and Parvati both let out a small squeak.

But Snape ignored all this. "Agrimony is an excellent medicinal plant for internal ailments," he explained, almost pleasantly. "However, the Boil-Curing Potion is a topical treatment, and, as such, the nettles in the potion can serve the same purpose and also help the cream to be absorbed into the skin…Well, it's good to see that some students are taking an early interest in the principles of potion design…" He paused for emphasis and smiled inwardly at the reaction he was about to get. "Two points to Gryffindor."

Almost the entire class gasped openly. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode both shouted a loud, "What!" Lavender Brown fainted, and Neville nearly did, too. A single token point to Gryffindor was rare enough for Snape, but two was completely unheard of.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said quietly.

Snape just nodded slightly. "Miss Patil, please take Miss Brown to the Hospital Wing," he said offhandedly. "The rest of you—if you're finished gawking—get back to work."

There was a scrambling of books and potions supplies. A very surprised Hermione leaned over to her brother and whispered, "I can't believe that worked." Harry just smiled.

He did notice, though, even after everyone else got over the shock, that Draco Malfoy was staring at him suspiciously for most of the period.

In the meantime, Snape patrolled the classroom as usual, thinking this was turning out to be a surprisingly good day. And James said he wouldn't know a good prank if it bit him on the arse.

Parvati Patil did not return to class that morning. It emerged later that Madam Pomfrey thought she had gone mad when she said Snape had given two points to Gryffindor, and had kept her under observation until the word began to spread at lunch.

Harry quickly noticed that the whispers about him he returned to a level he hadn't heard since his first day at Hogwarts. He seemed to have started a new legend or two about the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Yeah, Seeker, that's what I heard."

"They say he pulled off a perfect Wronski Feint, and he'd never even been on a broom."

"That's impossible! Not even Harry Potter could get two points out of Snape."

It was annoying but, Harry found, not as annoying as before. At least he was being whispered about for things that he'd actually done. It didn't help though that Fred and George Weasley came up to him at lunch and started singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow". From the way Snape was glaring down at the Gryffindor Table, Harry was sure he was about to take those two points back, and then some. Luckily, Percy came over and told them to quiet it down, but then they dropped to their knees and exclaimed, only half-mockingly, "Oh, great Lord Potter!"

"That was the most epic prank we have seen in all our time at Hogwarts," Fred continued.

"Including all the ones we pulled," George added.

"Will you grant us the boon of explaining how in the name of Merlin's Y-fronts you did that?" Fred finished.

"Um, sorry guys, I don't really think it's my place to say," Harry replied. "I just talked to him."

"Mm-hmm. I'm still surprised it worked myself, but Harry was just being polite," Hermione added.

"Being polite to Snape!" Fred said, leaping to his feet.

His twin followed suit. "We could never pull that off, even if we tried."

"He is truly out of our league, brother."

"We bow to your skill…for now." They both bowed low at the waist and returned to their seats, undoubtedly to plot how they could possibly one-up Harry Potter.

"Don't mind them," Ron said. "You know they're always like that—I still don't get how you did it, though."

That was about how things were like all day. Between beating Malfoy at flying and winning two points from Snape, Harry had been turned into the hero of Gryffindor—hopefully not for very long. It was hard enough being the Boy-Who-Lived, after all. But it was as they were leaving from lunch that Harry and Hermione got their biggest surprise when they heard a very calm voice call out behind them, "Mr. Potter?"

They turned around and saw, of all people, Draco Malfoy, standing alone.

Neither of them had got into the habit of reaching for their wands yet when something so unexpected happened, largely because they were still trying to catch up with wands in Charms Class, but they were both put on high alert—they could both feel the magic crackling at each other's fingertips, though Malfoy probably couldn't.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry replied.

"What's going on with you and Professor Snape?" he asked quietly. His calm did little to remove the deadly seriousness from his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"He says asphodel and wormwood, you say agrimony, and he gives you two points. I know the Language of Flowers, Mr. Potter, and my father's known Snape for years. What was that about?"

"It's a personal matter," said Harry. "It's not my place to say. You can try asking him if you want."

Malfoy's face darkened. "You're really going to keep us in the dark about this, Potter? I should think Slytherin has some right to know since he's our head of house."

By this point, Harry had had about enough of the prying. He stood up as straight as possible and tried to make himself sound as authoritative as an eleven-year-old could: "Mr. Malfoy, this is a private matter between the House of Snape and the Noble House of Potter. I am respecting Professor Snape's obvious intent of not publicising the details. I hope you will also respect that intent. Good afternoon." He turned and walked away. Malfoy didn't follow.

Hermione looked at her brother in awe as they left. "Harry, did you just pull rank?"

"I think Cousin Andi called it 'familial privilege', but yeah, I guess. It's good to know being a lord is good for something around here," he said with a small grin.

Dear Father and Mother,

I'm sure you have heard that I was extremely fortunate to be chosen as the Slytherin Quidditch Team Seeker (pending paperwork), due to events involving the Gryffindors barely being able to put together a team. Unfortunately, these events also resulted in Potter being chosen as the Gryffindor Seeker, and, more to the point, he's actually good at it—good enough that he'll be a serious challenge in the first match.

Potter swears he's never been on a broom before, but he looks like he's been flying for years. Weasley already compared him with his brother, Charlie. Potter acted like he didn't even know how good he was. He claimed muggle sports gave him the skill, but he's so far ahead of Granger that I suspect it's at most half-true. I doubt he's cheating—not even McGonagall would allow that—but there's got to be more to it.

That's not the only thing about Potter that doesn't make sense. I can confirm that he is definitely a Gryffindor. He stands up for his allies, and he's not afraid of getting in a little trouble. But he's also smart—too smart to bait easily, and even if he weren't, the Professors are sticking too close to him to do it. And if Potter is smart, everyone says Granger is even smarter—smarter than any muggle-born has any business being, but, supposedly, she's now claiming relation to the Fawley Family. The Ravenclaws say they're both strangely behind in Charms, though.

Potter and Granger have both been carefully evasive about their claimed life in the muggle world, but they've both publicly demonstrated advanced knowledge of muggle fighting techniques. I'm not even sure if they were being careless or making a statement. It looked like it could even be a misdirection, but I don't know for what.

But today was the strangest part: Potter and Professor Snape appear to be sending coded messages to each other. Last week, Professor Snape asked Potter about asphodel and wormwood. I wasn't sure if it meant anything, but today, Potter asked him about agrimony, and he gave two points to Gryffindor for it. Neither of them would tell me what it was about. Potter even said it was a private matter between their houses, with the correct formula. If you know of something going on between them, I hope you'll tell me. I'm trying to put together a useful picture of Potter, but he's done a good job at hiding all the important pieces.

Your loving son,

Draco

P.S. Nothing on Dumbledore so far. Potter's been working a lot closer with McGonagall, at least in public, and I haven't seen any problems between them.