The words from Harry Potter, absolving Neville of the guilt he'd incurred upon finding out that he had once stood a very real chance of becoming the boy marked by Voldemort as his equal, washed over Neville, filling him relief that renewed his sense of duty to the-boy-who-lived. The fear he had felt in approaching Harry with the bomb of information he had learned from Dumbledore, left him and he sat on Harry's bedside, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know where this leaves us, Harry. I just want to be beside you, like Ron and Hermione."

"You can't protect me, Neville." It was unnerving to have so much devotion pledged to him as had been done since the fight at the Ministry Of Magic. It seemed all of his friends had pledged to stand beside him come what may.

"Yes, Harry. I can...at least until...you know. Besides, I have other reasons too, you know."

'I know that Neville," Harry said sympathetically, feeling that Neville made reference to his parents.

"NO... you don't Harry. You only know part of it." Neville ran a hand through his hair nervously, turning around as though he couldn't face Harry while telling him what was coming next.

"Harry...Do you think I'm stupid?" Neville asked, dreading the answer. "Tell me the truth."

"No, Neville...never," Harry responded truthfully. "Forgetful maybe..."

'Yeah," Neville said darkly. "When Neville finished the story of how Bellatrix Lestrange had put the Oblivate Curse on him as an infant, Harry found himself instinctively looking for a mark of some sort on Neville, but of course, Neville's inflictions were invisible. This would be the night when Neville Longbottom gained a whole new respect from Harry, as well as a deeper friendship, which had really happened when they had fought side by side last year.

"Neville, I think you should tell at least Ron and Hermione, and maybe Fred and George," Harry suggested, "but if you don't want to I won' t either. I think it should be your decision."

Neville got kind of a thoughful look on his face. "Well, Fred and George have always kind of teased me about my dodgy memory," he admitted.

Ron's brothers have really grown up, Neville. They're only back here this year because of me, and I know it."

The two of them talked for another half an hour, only now fully appreciating how much the other had suffered. Neville knew nothing of the abuse Harry had endured at the hands of his relatives all these years. Harry didn't know that Neville's frequent absences from classes didn't always have to do with his incompetence in getting lost when the staircases would change or something like he'd always said they did. To this day, he suffered severe migraine headaches and nightmares from the force of the Obliviate Curse Lestrange had inflicted on him when he was a baby, and had in fact spent as much time under Madam Pomfrey's care as Harry.

Neville took a deep breath and opened the door. Hermione let out an audible sigh of relief. Harry apologized profusely for his bad behaviour and was grateful that everyone was so easily forgiving, but they became slightly concerned when he asked them to sit.

When everything had been brought out into the open, Hermione hugged them both, tears in her eyes. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard!" she sobbed.

For a moment, just one fleeting moment, Ginny looked at Neville without him noticing, and found herself almost wishing... not that Neville was the chosen one, but at least that Harry was not. It was the first time she had actually heard the whole prophecy spoken out in full. Neville just looked at Ginny, knowing how it felt to be just learning of it's horror, but she would never fully appreciate what it meant to Neville, at least not for now. She too kissed them both, embracing Harry tightly. You could have heard a pin drop as each person contemplated what lay ahead.

'Neville, we never for a minute thought you were stupid, mate," George offered.

"No, look how far you've come in Defence Against The Dark Arts skills," Fred added, by way of a compliment.

"Besides, you made up look us good," Fred couldn't resist, as Neville punched him on the arm like he'd seen Ron do on many occasions.

"Half a minute," George instructed, whispering to Fred to usher him into the corridor. When the twins came back in, they made a revelation of their own. "Look Neville, we can't undo what's been done to you, but we may be able to help."

"Oh come on you guys, no tricks, not a time like this," Ron intervened with Hermione's deepest approval.

"It's not a trick," Fred informed him seriously. Neville was apprehensive to say the least.

"Well, what is it than?" Ron demanded. "Madam Pomfrey couldn't help him. St. Mungos couldn't help him, beyond healing the actual wounds. What on earth can you do?"

Fred retrieved a sixth year school book from his sack. "Why have you got a sixth year book?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

Fred turned to Harry as he referred to chapter one. "Okay Harry, a few quick questions if you please." Harry felt very on the spot, like at the start of school every year when he hadn't been allowed to study properly because of the strict rules at the Dursleys, and having no access to his school books, which until recently had been locked in the cupboard under the stairs.

"You do know I haven't been able to study for months?" Harry reminded them.

"Haven't you?" George asked seriously.

"You know I haven't...even now, no one wants me working on anything except walking and getting well." Once again, Harry was worried he would lose his year.

Ginny put her hand reassuringly on Harry's back as he sat up, having a pretty good idea of what Fred and George had done. Still...if Harry lost his year, he'd be in some of her classes...she put this selfish thought out of her head. It wasn't so bad, him being a year ahead, but leaving the school entirely a year ahead...now that was cause for concern, and she didn't even know why the mere thought of that worried her.

Harry hadn't realized that he'd leaned into Ginny's hand on his back, enjoying the warmth and forgetting about everything else for a moment. 'Maybe it wouldn't be so bad staying behind...' he thought, but then he sat up straighter with a fleeting glimpse into Ginny's eyes, wondering how could her mere touch could take him so far away from where he was.

"Okay Harry, chapter one, the Salem Witch trials," George began, interrupting Harry's moment of pleasure. "Who was it that enjoyed being burned so much, that she allowed herself to be caught several times?"

"Wendylyn The Weird," Harry answered immediately. The twins continued to fire question after question at Harry, who answered them as easily as rhyming off his favourite Quidditch players on any given team.

"Wow, I must have really paid attention last year, more than I thought," Harry said, almost impressing himself, then he joked. "You know what they say, if you lose something, other things kick in. Maybe I can't walk and think at the same time," he said ruefully.

"Harry, that's this year's work. That's what we're doing now." Hermione was amazed. "Did you study this?"

"You know I didn't," Harry replied, puzzled. "I've been more out of it than in until last week..."

"Yeah, and speaking of out of it, Harry," George said. "We've kind of been messing with your head while you slept or were unconscious."

"What do you mean?" Ron piped in, as Harry involuntarily checked for holes in his head. "What did you do? Mom will kill you," Ron said in awe.

"It's nothing bad Ron, and you're fine Harry, in fact better than fine," Fred informed him. Harry remained silent, going over in his head what he actually knew that he hadn't studied himself. Hermione, who was sceptical from the start, started plying Harry with questions from her books, which she had retrieved from her room.

"No...way!" She was in denial. For once, Harry knew loads more than she did, about subjects he wasn't even taking.

"Whoa! The great Hermione Granger outdone by Mr Harry Potter, read all about it!" Ron teased, as Hermione tried to hide her complete disbelief.

"What did you do to me?" Harry asked, slightly nervous.

"Sleep learning, Harry," Fred said simply.

"Sleep...what?"

"Sleep learning," George repeated. "After you were hurt, you were out cold a lot, so one day when we were doing second security detail, we started talking to you. That Muggle doctor told us we should let you hear our voices. He said familiar voices might bring you out of it. Fred even read to you from our last year's text book. We noticed your eyes moved more when we talked to you, and the Healers said your blood pressure was more normal when someone you knew was with you. So...as what usually happens when Fred and I stay up way too late...we got an idea!"

"Go on," Harry coaxed.

"Well, when we were at Grimmauld Place and mom confiscated our extendable ears for the umpteenth time, we decided to try out some Muggle tape recorders hidden in the meeting rooms to hear what was going on. Dad had two of them in the garage. Of course she found them," he remembered with a shudder.

"When we snuck downstairs to the kitchen after the meeting was over to collect it, we took it back to our room and turned it on," Fred said in the same tone as his brother.

George continued. "She somehow managed to bewitched the Muggle tape recorder to play a howler message. Fred! George! You know this room is checked thoroughly! Don't make us punish you! There was more...but it really isn't polite," he said, doing an uncanny impression of Mrs Weasley. Everyone knew it wasn't a question of etiquette preventing him from continuing the message contents, but more embarrassment on their part.

"I'm not following," Harry prodded.

"Well, since we didn't have any use for our tape recorder to be used for shady purposes, we decided to use it for you..." Fred said simply, as if this would clear things up for them, but Harry remained patiently puzzled.

"Well, one of the best selling items in our store, is the hypnotising method kit. Fred and I studied up on the subject and sent a message to the author of the instruction manual. We had to pay her a thousand galleons, our first profits, for a private lecture. She taught us just how to use our voices to hypnotise you."

"But I was unconscious."

"Mostly, but nobody said it was perfect," Fred told him. "Anyway, since you weren't doing anything else but lie there, we figured it couldn't hurt. The famous hypnotist Oblivian- Mirk-Memory did the introduction voice on our tapes for us. She told you to just open your mind and relax. Your blood pressure and pulse went down, then , the rest of the tapes, volumes one through nine, we just took turns reading text books to you on tape, and in person."

Harry, who had no memory of this whatsoever, didn't know whether to say thank you or feel intruded upon, but when he realized he wouldn't lose his year due to lack of schooling, he was extremely pleased.

"I'm not going to start yodelling at inappropriate times or anything am I?" Harry asked, quite serious. The twins had rarely missed an opportunity for fooling around.

"No, promise!" they said in unison, and for just this once, Harry trusted them.

"OH, and Harry, Professor Snape taught you some stuff too, when we couldn't make it, like when you weren't allowed visitors and such." A cold wave of of doubt surged over Harry, as he wondered if Snape had opened his mind to Voldemort's summons using these very innocent intended inventions. Harry had lived as a Muggle, and he knew from Muggle history, that some inventions, created by inventors for a noble purpose, were turned to evil use in the wrong hands. 'No ,' Harry told himself. If that were the case, Voldemort would have taken him straight from St. Mungos.

"A thousand galleons?" Harry stammered. "That must have wiped you out." He now could truly comprehend how fully committed they were to him.

"We wouldn't have had the shop yet, if not for you, but yeah, it tapped us out at first, but we've been really successful with simpler versions of sleep learning guides," Fred said proudly. Hermione suddenly looked very put out. "No, Hermione, it's not like Harry's. The students who purchase these have to study aloud first before they can tape the message to themselves. No cheating. Even Professor Dumbledore approves of this product in special cases," he informed her, before she could protest.

"In Harry's case, it simply wasn't fair that he was falling behind, and it seems so with our Neville here, too," George told her firmly. Ginny wished in a way that she could have said something to Harry on those tapes... but no that would be wrong. He was as thick as Ron when it came to girls and he probably always would be.

"So Neville," Fred encouraged his fellow Gryffindor, "we'll set you up with a kit like Harry's, and I don't think even Hermione can complain about us giving you the souped up version of it, given your...circumstances." Neville looked as happy as they'd ever seen him.

"Do you really think it'll work on...me?" he asked doubtfully, but with a glint of hope in his eyes. "When do I start?"

"No time like the present. We'll lend you some tapes," the twins offered kindly.

"He really should do it himself," Hermione said, "Okay, he can start with yours, but he's got to study for real too." For a minute, Neville was reminded of his Gran, but for once not in a bad way. He now knew why she had pushed him so hard all his life, and he was grateful.

Evening had fallen faster than any of them had realized. They had talked for hours. Everyone felt loads better, even Harry, though what he had been told about Snape teaching him during his incapacitation, was still a little disturbing to him. Fred and George had even told him that they had put extra emphasis on special charms and curses on the tapes. Any that they had felt he could use against the Dark Lord or his followers. Being the joksters they always were, Harry still wondered what other surprises they had in store for him.

Madam Pomfrey checked in to see her patient, and was glad to find him in better spirits than when she had last seen him. After giving him his many potions, she surprised everyone by sending in hot fudge sundaes for them, telling Neville that perhaps he should summon Luna to join them. The Matron was very happy that for once, her patient seemed to have a more positive outlook. It was nice to just sit and talk like old times with a few exceptions of course.

Neville walked Luna back to the Great Hall, on his way the Gryffindor tower late that evening, well past curfew, but any scoldings, or detentions from professors who found him in the corridors after curfew, were worth it, for more reasons than one. He had his tape recorder, with headphones and tapes, and Fred and George had already fixed it so that it could work at Hogwarts with permission from Dumbledore. The twins winked from behind Hermione's back, that they had added a few extra sessions for Neville too. .. "As he is a member of the DA and all," they explained. It suddenly dawned on Harry why he had been able to perform some pretty complex spells without benefit of a wand.

"Harry," George said very seriously. Fred and I worked on those tapes harder than anything we've ever worked on in our entire lives, including getting the store set up and running. There are spells on those tapes most teachers here couldn't do. We figured you could use them. For instance, apparation shouldn't be a big deal for you to try, when you're fully mended mind you. You'd get splinched for sure now."

"Oh...er...thanks,"Harry said after they told him he'd have to practice practically first of course. Harry wondered if sleep learning the techniques for proper apparation, would lead to a nasty splinching, wherby the person trying to apparate somewhere else, leaves behind part of their body by accident when they appear at their intended destination.

Hermione surprised them all by suggesting, "Maybe we should make the DA stronger by teaching them all these skills."

"Yes, but Hermione, remember Marietta Edgecombe and Cho Chang? If we taught those traitors these skills, they could use them against us." Ron argued.

"Actually, Cho Chang is the only one of the accused to win an appeal of her case," George told them disgustedly. "We just heard it today at lunch." Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry remembered silently, hadn't it been Cho Chang who'd brought Marietta Edgecombe to the DA meetings in the first place, and wasn't Marietta the only accused to admit guilt freely in his kidnapping?

"What do you think, Harry?" Hermione asked in her unintentional bossy way.

"I don't know, Cho's nothing to me. I've never had any feelings about her one way or the other." Harry spoke so fast, he was barely intelligible.

"Um...I meant about sleep teaching the DA: Hermione corrected, as she saw Ginny give a small pout that only another female could detect.

"OH! Yes...of course," he stammered. "Oh yes of course, teach them sleep learning. Harry was still embarrassed from having brought up Cho again. He was very tired, and suddenly Ginny became very tired herself. He was glad to know that his opinion still counted, but wondered why Ginny hadn't been a very big part of the conversation. "I just will never understand girls," Harry thought to himself.

When everyone had left, yawning and glad to be friends again, Harry settled down to sleep, but though his body was tired, he could not turn off his thoughts. He thought of Cho. What if she was innocent? What if she had only caught the burrowing head lice from the kidnappers during their trek down the corridors shortly after having been cursed by Ron? After all, Neville had confirmed that Cho had indeed come to see him to ask about Harry's condition.

Harry also pictured a strong army of students, skilled in almost every aspect of magic. An elite anti- Voldemort squad. He shook his head, almost amused. It was like an overdone Muggle television program that played out in his mind. Still, it might be useful.

Neville slipped into his four poster bed and put on the headphones, half wondering if he was doing the right thing. After all, despite his Gran's ravings about his shortcomings, she had also told him that one day, he would be a great wizard just the way he was. He thought fondly on this for about half a minute before putting on the headphones, and settled down nervously. Nothing could have possibly convinced him to permanently alter himself forever, other than the fact that he had already forgotten how to run the tape recorder, despite the fact that Fred and George had explained it three times only fifteen minutes ago. He muttered to himself, grateful that Hermione had kindly written out all of the instructions for him. He was also grateful that she hadn't believed him when he had assured her that he would remember the instructions himself.

Meanwhile, Harry tossed and turned, despite the conflict resolution. Ron had fallen asleep over an hour ago. Harry opened his eyes when light fell across his face from the outer Hospital Dorm. Even now in the semi- darkness, the visitor was unmistakable. "Feel like company Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, peeking around the door. Harry was glad to find that while he'd made peace with his friends, he had also realized that Dumbledore had been sparing Neville all these years, just as he had thought to spare Harry, and now Harry could not begrudge Neville the gesture, knowing how he had suffered all these years.

"Come in ,sir," Harry invited, sounding rather formal. Was that a sigh of relief he'd heard from his headmaster?

"Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape have informed me that you have improved greatly, Harry, and it is that subject that I am most to anxious discuss with you. I would like to discuss your plans for family week. Harry was wondering where this conversation was leading.

"It's only a week and a half a way, sir, unless you've heard differently than me, I'm stuck here still," Harry informed him, not knowing if he was glad not to have to deal with all that or a little sad that he wouldn't at least get to hang out with Ron's older brothers for awhile if they were coming.

"Yes, indeed you will continue to reside in the Hospital Wing under Madam Pomfrey's care," Dumbledore told him somewhat sadly. "However I have been discussing with Poppy and Severus," he continued informally, "the possibility of an outpatient program for you. That Muggle doctor, whom I have kept in touch with, thinks it would be very good for you. You will be free to wander the castle and the grounds in the company of your friends. You will be required to report back to the Hospital Wing for your potions of course, and for sleep and examinations as required."

Before he could even finish his sentence, Harry interrupted, "When Professor?"

"Starting first thing in the morning, Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him. Harry was grinning from ear to ear. "However." This word made Harry's enthusiasm dwindle, "you will have to allow Mr Weasley and Miss Granger time to finish their schoolwork, and you must promise not to engage in anything that would be considered out of your ability range at this time by Madam Pomfrey." This 'however,' was not as bad as Harry thought it could have been, but in reality, Madam Pomfrey probably thought Harry belonged in a plastic bubble.

"We would like to ensure that are used to being out and about, as you are to be guest of honour at the Hallowe'en festivities marking the end to family week. We also would like you to plan the theme for the party and dance, Harry. It is to be your official welcome back party." Harry knew there had to be a catch, and it was a big one.

Dumbledore just smiled at Harry as he said 'great,' ever and over and over again. Although Harry had no idea what to plan for a theme, as he'd never even been invited to a party like this specifically before. He didn't want to say no and risk his new found freedom if his lack of enthusiasm at this request was mistaken for weakness. Despite having forced himself to agree to help come up with a theme for the dance, he and Dumbledore felt better before he left. The ice had been broken, again.

In the morning, Harry was bursting to tell everyone that he was free, at least somewhat. Ron, who hadn't so much as stirred during Dumbledore's late night visit, was still groggy when Harry told him the good news. Hermione came in to see if Harry needed any help in getting up, which Ron usually took care of. She was thrilled to hear that he would be allowed some fresh air. Harry wanted out of here right away, so turning his full attention on Hermione, he suddenly became quite charming, "Hermione. Have I ever told you how much I admire your organizational skills?"

"No...why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "You don't have to butter me up, Harry, I've been looking forward to springing you from this place for weeks." Harry had left out the part where he had to come up with a theme for the Hallowe'en festivities.

Harry was touched by his friend's eagerness to see him gain some freedom. It seemed to mean as much to them as it did to him, but that wasn't why he had complimented Hermione's organizational skills.

"Oh, I can't do this to you. I'll just come right out and say it." Harry told them about Dumbledore's earnest request,(was it a request?) to come up with party plans, and he played on Hermione's sympathy and need to control, to help him in his task, or better yet, do it for him.

"As you're still under the weather, I'll help, but I'm not going to do it for you." Hermione was secretly flattered, since she had usually just been considered one of the boys all these years. They now recognized that she, as a female, would be better suited to this task, at least they hoped.

"What would you like to do, Harry?" Ron asked, surprised that Harry was even willing to participate in such a project. Two years ago, he hadn't even wanted to attend a party which involved even the slightest chance that he would have to dance with a girl, but since he was not yet on his feet, he figured he'd be spared that duty.

"Something the Slytherins will hate!" Harry replied with great relish. The project seemed good for Harry. It took his mind off all the hard work he had ahead of him to get well, and the pain he still endured every day, despite the best of potions.

"I've got it!" Hermione beamed brightly, dashing back into Harry's room, which they'd just left. She returned with...a book. Of course, this was Hermione Granger they'd asked for help.

"Trust our Hermione to consult a book. Parties don't come from books, Hermione. "Fred said disgustedly, thinking that she'd gotten a party etiquette book or something on table manners, or worse.

"Not ones people actually want to attend anyway," George added, as Hermione shot them all an offended look.

"This happens to be a book on entertaining. I think that's why my parents gave it to Harry. They must have been told by Dumbledore about Harry having to come up with a party theme. It seemed a strange gift at the time to me, but there it is, their way of giving you an idea," Hermione informed them enthusiastically, somewhat glad that she had finally figured what this strange gift had been all about.

"OH, Hermione, you're pure evil genius! A muggle party! The Slytherins will hate it!" Harry exclaimed, with a spark in his eyes that none of them had seen since he'd last played a Quidditch match under normal conditions.

"Yeah, but a lot of Muggles will attending. What fun will that be for them," Ron asked, not grasping what Hermione and Harry knew about this book, having been Muggle raised.

"This book was published in the nineteen seventies, Ron," Harry informed his puzzled friend. For once, it was Ron who was in the dark about traditions in dress and such, for he , being raised soley wizard, knew nothing about how much clothing and hairstyles had changed since then.

"You don't understand, this will be a costume retro party with music from the Muggles in the nineteen seventies and everything. It'll be something different for the Muggles and the wizards," Hermione explained to everyone except Harry, who having lived with Muggles, knew all about the nineteen seventies already. For a second, he was swept into a daydream, picturing Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon in bell- bottoms and tye-dye tops. He doubted Uncle Vernon had ever worn anything but a suit. Everyone looked at him curiously when he laughed out loud, picturing Professor Snape with love beads and faded jeans, possibly with a leather jacket. When he filled them in on his thoughts, they all had a good laugh.

"I think Professor Dumbledore will love it!" Hermione was positively ecstatic. Harry was getting better, and there was to be a dance!

"Yeah, and he'll encourage all the teachers to participate in the spirit of family week," Ron nodded dreamily. After all, it's only fair, we didn't want to attend the Tri Wizard Yule Ball either." Ron shot Harry a quick look, scared that he may have dredged up a painful memory, but Harry wasn't listening.

"So, how about it, are we going outside?" Harry asked hopefully, finishing his breakfast more quickly than he had done since he'd arrived back at Hogwarts.

"Harry, this party is at the end of family week. We need to start planning. We need to ask the house- elves for help." Harry just stared at her darkly in disbelief.

"OH, Harry! I'm sorry! I just got carried away, you know me. I know you haven't been outside...really anyway...for months. Of course we're going!" Ron got Harry's cloak and started to put it over Harry's shoulders.

"Thanks Ron. I think I can get it," Harry told him gently, not wanting to sound ungrateful. Hermione handed him his gloves and then his walk socks, and began to put them on under his trainers. Hermione was about to ask just what he thought he was doing, when Ron shot her a 'leave him be' look. By the time Harry was ready to go out, they'd handed him so much warm clothing, that he was sweating. Hermione was just about to place a warm blanket over his legs when Fred said, "Oh come on Hermione, he's not a hundred!"

"Well..." Hermione was about to argue when they suddenly left with Harry, leaving her standing in the ward. She caught up quickly, yelling at them for bouncing Harry around too much or going too quickly.

"I'm not gonna break, Hermione. I'm fine...really." Harry looked right into her eyes, and she found herself believing him.

"Okay then," She finally gave up and decided to enjoy Harry's first venture outdoors. The sun was bright and warm. Harry turned his pale face up toward it and closed his eyes. He could feel the sun on his face and everything felt better somehow. He wondered at how different the wind felt on his skin after having been cooped up in the still air of the Hospital Wing and St Mungos for so long. It was almost always sickly warm in the hospitals.

Seeing Harry out in the sun, face tilted upwards, reminded his friends of a recently released prisoner. Sirius had had that same unhealthy pallor after his years at Azkaban. They all silently prayed that everything would be better for Harry from now on. Harry opened his eyes, almost able to feel their silent, thoughtful stares.

"Nice day," he stated off handedly.

"Er...yeah, it is," Ron said awkwardly, only now appreciating his own freedoms over the summer, as limited as they had been due to the start of the war. They made their way down to the lake, looking out for any signs of 'criminal recess.' Harry would go ballistic seeing his attackers outside enjoying the day, but to their relief, there was no one about, except a few students who were between classes.

Harry could have stared at the lake all day, watching blowing leaves drift in and lightly float to the middle before disappearing from view. The school day had ended by the time they headed back. Harry, seeing activity on the Quidditch pitch, instinctively headed straight for it.

"Harry, Madam Pomfrey says your afternoon potion has to be taken on an empty stomach, so unless you want to wait to eat dinner until eight or so, we should go back," Hermione told him , of course making this up. She felt that Harry would feel badly watching a practice, and then seeing Ron, the twins and Ginny take off before dinner. They had rejoined the Quidditch team for Griffindor.

"Oh Harry..." Ron said dejectedly, Professor McGonagall asked us to rejoin . She wants us to practice to beat Slytherin in the exhibition game during family week. He cringed waiting for one of Harry's now famous outbursts.

"Oh...well...right...yeah. Umbridge sacked me last year anyway, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to play after that anyway," Harry lied through his teeth in compensation for the way he'd treated them just for a few DA meetings without him. He forced a smile, and forced his disappointment back into the pit of his stomach. "You better get going. You don't have much time."

'Why don't you come and give us some pointers. Angelina's good, but she's no Oliver Wood," Fred said seriously, and seeing Harry's look, he added, "And no Harry, we're not just patronizing you. You'd be a valuable asset."

"I'll just come and watch," Harry told them. He really didn't feel he had anything to contribute, but just to watch them flying for now, would have to be enough. It was more than he had yesterday. He wondered if he'd ever play Quidditch again.

Harry instinctively headed for the player's entrance, but turning at the last moment, he and Hermione made their way to the stands. Watching the new Gryffindor team in their practice uniforms churned Harry's stomach. It shocked him how very much he missed being with them. Ron smiled at him apologetically from above as the team huddled around their captain, Angelina Johnson. How he wished to be part of that huddle. Angelina gestured her hands all over the place in a silent language, which Harry could not hear so far away from where he longed to be.

Harry almost imagined he could feel the wind push his unruly hair down, as the seven players gracefully rose into the sky. He suddenly wondered where his Firebolt had been all this time. He had crashed hard into that forest... The reason he did not where his beloved Firebolt was, was because he'd been too afraid to ask. He had felt awful when his Nimbus Two Thousand had been destroyed by the Whomping Willow, but losing his Firebolt would be devastating, as it had been a gift from his Godfather Sirius Black. With all that had happened since he had almost died under that tree, Harry had a sick realization that more than likely, nobody had thought to retrieve his broom. Somehow he knew it was gone.

An uncontrollable panic rose in him, not so much for his Firebolt as a Quidditch broom, but as a very sentimental object. He remembered the day he'd received it. It had arrived for Harry the Christmas after the destruction of his Nimbus without a gift tag to identify the most generous giver. The Firebolt had been confiscated by Professor McGonagall to be checked for curses or hexes, since it was feared that it had been a gift from Harry's Godfather, who at the time, was thought to have been hunting Harry to do his master's bidding, as Black was accused of being Voldemort's supporter. The broom had been inspected and returned to Harry later and Harry had found out that the Firebolt had indeed been a gift from Black, but a gift without malice, a gift with love, a gift to make up for all the birthday and Christmas presents he hadn't been able to give his Godson because he had been in Azkaban.

Thinking of Sirius again, made Harry lose clear thought for a moment, and he felt the need to touch something that had been from him. Without thinking, he yelled, "Accio Firebolt!" and concentrated hard on retrieving his prized broom . He did not even realize that in his urge, he had stood up, leaning on the railings of the front row. It was the first time he'd risen on his own without great effort and pain. In his obsession of obtaining his broom, he continued to stand through the sound of breaking glass.

"Harry! Look out!" Hermione screamed, but he was too mesmerised by the sight of his beloved broom, zooming at alarming speed toward him, that she might as well have been whispering. The Firebolt which had been travelling toward Harry's standing height, lowered to a mount position, stopping with a crack right beside him. It stood gleaming beautifully, just like the day he'd ridden it last before the clouting he'd taken.

Harry reached out and touched the handle. It was as though he hadn't registered the fact that his Firebolt had just crashed through a pane of stained glass that was probably more than five hundred years old. The broom was like a race car sitting there, engine running, ready to be driven.

Quidditch practice had ceased entirely as everyone ducked to get out of the way of the speeding Firebolt and were now staring at their former seeker. Harry sat down heavily, only now realizing what he had done. This was more than a Summoning Charm. As happy as he was to see his broom in one piece, he now knew there would be questions about what had just happened.

The Weasleys all landed in the stands, while the rest of the team hovered right in front of Harry and Hermione. Harry didn't know what to say. There were mingled voices all talking at once. Professor Dumbledore could be seen striding across the pitch, followed by Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin.

"Is everyone alright?" Professor McGonagall asked, worried. She was looking especially at Harry. When everyone confirmed that they were fine, that's when the tough questions started.

"Explain to me why, Mr Potter, your broom just flew through some rare species of medicinal plant samples, crashing through my office door, up the staircase, into the Great Hall, and finally smashing through the windows to be found at your side," Snape said icily without breath. Harry looked at Dumbledore, to McGonagall, to Lupin for help, but apparently, they were also keen to learn the answer Snape had been seeking, though for very different reasons.

"It was er...an Accio Spell," Harry answered quite truthfully. What else could he do?

"That was an extraordinary Summoning Charm, Mr Potter," McGonagall remarked, sounding more impressed than angry. This heartened Harry a great deal. He explained everything without looking at Snape once.

"Harry, how did you know where your broom was, to concentrate on summoning it," Lupin asked.

"An answer I too am most interested in hearing," Snape said, now feeling that someone surely must have told Harry where it had been, which would have meant that someone had been snooping. He eyed the twins suspiciously, but it was nothing of the sort.

"I...I really don't know where it was, sir. I really thought that...you know, that it had been destroyed. I really didn't think about it...I really felt..." At this point, Harry clammed up. He looked out onto the pitch, not able to say what was on his mind, because it was about Sirius, and he hadn't been cleared of the murders he had been sent to Azkaban for. He wouldn't and in fact probably couldn't have explained that the reason he'd missed his Firebolt, was because he missed Sirius, nor was he willing to admit that he'd longed to fly so much, that the summoning charm just sort of happened. There would be many questions for Harry to answer as he hung his head, thinking about Sirius, glad to have his broom back.