The Harry's departure from the hospital wing didn't go unnoticed but was not prosecuted, and fortunately Hermione and Ron had managed to return to Gryffindor Tower without incident. However, these minor victories paled in comparison to the problems the young Kneazle faced now. Ron and Hermione seemed fully on his side, but Neville had been keeping an icy distance ever since Harry had let it slip that Lestrange had been there and Neville wasn't invited to the party. While this was perplexing, Harry chalked it up to the other boy's need for revenge and a lack of proper understanding about what it meant to kill someone.
Ginny on the other hand had been downright infuriating. She had been studiously avoiding him and would leave the area whenever he approached. He'd tried everything from apologising and owl ordering her flowers on the suggestion of Ron, to leaving several choice mice (cleanly killed of course) in her shoes. Nothing had worked, and Harry was beginning to get desperate. He was reasonably sure why she was angry with him and he even had a plan to fix it if she would only listen to him. Therein lay the problem. She just wouldn't be reasonable, and Harry was getting desperate.
Perhaps it was the strain of Quidditch practise, the continued awkwardness with Professor Lupin during Patronus lessons, or the constant barrage of 'when will you get a decent broom, Potter?', but with the looming Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor game only two days away, Harry snapped.
Tired and thoroughly frozen from a strenuous Quidditch practice in the frigid Scottish air, Harry clambered through the portrait hole and nearly collapsed right there. He realised that he was so tired and distracted he'd brought the Comet 260 with him and not left it in the school broom shed as he ought. Riding the school brooms wasn't easy, and the Hippogriffs were getting increasingly frustrated at his insistence that he had to ride a broom during practice. "Wood would have my head if I tried to ride you out there," Harry had patiently explained. Their persistance that he was going to break his neck on something that was never meant to fly had frayed what was left of his self-control, and when he stumbled towards the fire to warm up, he noticed Ginny.
She was working on Potions, it seemed and suddenly she noticed him too. He could take the silence, and her rigid body language as she stood and slammed her book closed, but the venomous look of betrayal mixed with a tiny amount of loathing was too much. He thought they'd made progress when he'd been under Madam Pomfrey's care, but it appeared it was only a brief respite. So, Harry failed to restrain his temper.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted, and Ginny went rigid as a board and fell face forward onto a convenient couch. "Oi!" Ron's indignant shout could be heard from the corner, but Harry wasn't listening. He walked quickly and deliberately over to his frozen friend, and conjured a set of ropes. Harry quickly bound his human to the broom, mounted it and with a quick cry of "Reducto" removed the window that blocked his expedient exit. Moments later, the airborne Kneazle boy and his captive human were landing a little beyond Hagrid's hut.
"I'm sorry about this, Sparkplug, but you haven't left me any choice. Now, I'm going to talk, you're going to listen and when I'm done I'm going to let you go and you're likely going to scream at me and hex my bits off. Either way, I need you to hear this," Harry said, staring purposefully into the rage-filled eyes of his human. "Ginny, I'm not sorry I left you behind. You were a liability, but I realize now that I need someone who can always watch my tail. It took nearly getting blown up to do it, but you're the best human I can think of. The dog is no help and as much as I love the rest of the Pride, they can't use a wand. I got them killed, Ginny. Electrolux and Igglebum both died because I didn't have anyone to watch out for me while I am trying to protect everyone else," Harry's voice hitched, but he soldiered on with his confession coming in ragged breaths. "And as much as it hurts to know they're gone, I know that Isis will reward them for their service. It hurts, Sparkplug, more than I can say and maybe that's the human in me coming out, but as badly as it hurts to have lost them, I can't describe the agony at the thought of losing you, my dearest and oldest friend. So," Harry continued his voice now made stronger with purpose. "I want to make sure that you will always be able to watch my tail, and you're dead useful as a lioness. So, I propose that I begin teaching you the fine art of the hunt. How to move silently through the bushes, stalk prey without them noticing and slip silently away from predators. Of course it will be slightly different for you, being the largest of us, but I think you'll do fine. Now, I'm going to take this curse off and sit down. I accept whatever decision you think is best. Finite Incantatem," Harry finished and in a moment Ginny was free, looking both shaken and incredibly murderous.
"Harry," Ginny growled. "I don't know which curse to use first. I mean why couldn't you have talked to me in the common room? Why all the elaborate flying and hexing?"
Harry stared at her dumbstruck, not entirely sure how to answer that. "You were going to leave and I was desperate. You've been avoiding me."
"I have not!" Ginny replied hotly. Then after a moment conceded, "I suppose I have, haven't I?"
"Yes, Sparkplug, you have. You've been driving me positively barmy and I didn't know what else to do to explain it all to you. I'm really sorry about this whole thing, but I was hoping you'd understand in the end. So, what do you say? Do you want to learn the wiles of we Kneazles? No non-Kneazle has ever learned before."
"Did you mean what you said about never wanting to leave me behind?"
"I did."
"Is learning how to hunt the price for being able to make sure you're protected as much as I am?"
"It is."
"Then I'm in," Ginny quietly replied.
"Good, we begin tomorrow. I suggest during your History of Magic Class. I have a free period then and I think we can make a good start."
"Harry, I can't just skive off History, I mean it's one of the classes we're required to take."
"I did, why can't you? Do you do more than sleep in there anyway?"
Ginny looked at him perplexed. "I suppose not."
"Then don't worry about it. Just borrow Hermione's notes from last year."
Ginny nodded uncertainly, but finally agreed. "Will the other Kneazles help?"
"When I explain what I intend, I'm sure they will. Now, we better be getting back to the castle. Care for flying?"
Ginny grinned mischievously, "Do I have to be tied to the bottom again?"
"Not if we're back on speaking terms."
"Then I'd love to, Paws, but you know McGonagall is going to be in a right state about the window you destroyed."
"I'm sure she will be," Harry sighed. "But I'm sure she'll only take points away."
"I suppose. Now, let's fly!"
oOo
Harry stood nervously in the changing room as he listened to the muted sound of the roar of the crowd from the Quidditch Pitch. They were finally facing Ravenclaw, and after an hour argument the night before with Sir Gordon and the others, he'd finally acquiesced to leaving the broom behind in exchange for more naturally powered flight. Harry had checked with Ron once more to make sure that there wasn't a rule against it, but Ron had assured him that as long as whatever he was riding wasn't magically enhanced beyond normal specifications, then it was perfectly legal.
"Harry, where the bloody hell is your ride?" Oliver asked him. Harry hated lying, but the odd way in which Oliver had phrased the question had left just enough wiggle room. Harry could feel the human in him making the rationalization.
"Just outside, Oliver. Don't worry. We'll win today."
"We better. Did you get the Firebolt back?"
"Erm… not exactly," Harry stammered.
"What do you mean… oh bloody hell. Time to go, chaps!" With that final pronouncement, the doors opened to the stadium and Oliver Wood led his team to the most important Quidditch match they will every play… until the next one.
With his focus securely on the opposing team's captain, Wood missed the fact that his Seeker was sans broom. However it didn't miss the careful observation of many of the onlookers or his team mates.
"Harry, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" George hissed.
"Relax, twins. I've got a ride coming; I just don't want to tip my hand just yet."
"You better, Potter. You won't catch the Snitch standing on the ground," Katie Bell commented.
The jeers were becoming increasingly loud, especially from the Slytherin section, and the Gryffindor crowd looked worried. Where was Harry's broom?
"Captains, shake hands. I want a nice, clean game," Madam Hooch said as the two captains shook hands uneasily. There wasn't the fierce rivalry between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor that Slytherin enjoyed with the home of the brave, but it was Quidditch after all, and no one should take that lightly.
Madam hooch blew her whistle and all the players kicked off into the air, except Harry, who stood stock still for just a moment, emitting a whistle that would have summoned a London taxi cab from halfway across the city. An instant later, and one noble and gallant Hippogriff was making an emergency landing on the Quidditch pitch, causing cries of alarm from all those present. More so when Harry mounted his noble steed and they launched powerfully into the air.
"Harry! What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing?" Wood cried.
Harry merely smirked. "Told you my ride was outside." But as Harry and noble steed lighted into the air, the shrill whistle of Madam Hooch sounded.
"Potter, Wood, on me!" she shouted. Harry nudged Gordon with his knee and the noble Hippogriff wheeled around in a second and began attempting to hover in place. Not an easy thing to do, he informed Harry.
"It'll be over in a minute," Harry reassured his friend.
"Potter, what's the meaning of this?" Madam Hooch demanded. "We play Quidditch on brooms, here at Hogwarts. Wood, I'm going to have to disqualify your Seeker if you don't have a very good explanation for this."
"Madam Hooch, I checked the rules," Harry began. "And international Quidditch rules, which is what we conform to here at Hogwarts, state that no mount may be used that has been magically modified outside what the original maker intended. I can assure you that Gordon is anything but modified, despite how magnificent he may seem. He conforms to all Quidditch rules and as a matter of fact, the Chudley Cannons' beaters in 1563 flew on Thestrals, setting a precedent for magical creatures being used in the game. While I grant it isn't common…" Harry trailed off, grateful that he'd memorized the speech Ron had given him the night before.
"Wood, did you know about this?" Madam Hooch demanded.
"No, Madam Hooch. I didn't," Wood responded, shooting Harry a glare that clearly read win or no, they would be having words after the game.
"Very well… as I don't think this was a deliberate attempt of deceit on behalf of the captain and it does seem that the rules allow it, I suppose I'm going to have to allow it, at least this once."
"Keahhhh!" Gordon cried, shocking both Wood and Madam Hooch so badly they nearly fell off their brooms.
"Let's go, Mate!" Harry yelled in response and in another moment, they were off again, boy and Hippogriff circling the pitch to a now curiously silent crowd. The mesmirization only lasted a few moments though, broken by the Slytherin jeers.
'They are most disrespectful, Sir Harry. Perhaps my brethren should teach them proper tournament etiquette?'
"Don't worry about it, Sir Gordon, I think they're mostly Americans."
'Oh, well that would explain it, then.' With that, Harry and Gordon circled silently.
"Incoming!" Harry yelled suddenly and the Hippogriff folded his wings and dropped like a stone, narrowly avoiding a Bludger.
'Bloody Hell! You didn't tell me this was a combat tournament. That changes things all together!' The Hippogriff's voice was bordering on ecstatic.
"It isn't exactly, but, I suppose as long as we don't make contact…"
'We'll make sure they need new undergarments!'
"Right, you fly, I'll look for the Snitch. When I tell you to leave off though, you have to do exactly what I say."
'Fair enough, now let's get ready to joust!'
"And Gryffindor has seized the Quaffle, Bell passes to Spinnet and back to Bell, now over to Johnston she shoots, she scores! Gryffindor leads 190 to 30! Ravenclaw back in possession of the Quaffle, moving in a classic Aldemeijer formation and there comes Harry the Hippogriff herder! Handling his mount with natural grace, that certainly disrupted their formation… AND Spinnet seizes the Quaffle again," boomed the magically amplified voice of Lee Jordan. Harry was having a terrible time finding the Snitch, but he and Gordon were more than making up for it by consistently disrupting Chaser formations and giving no end of grief to the Ravenclaw Beaters. Gordon, in particular, seemed to find the idea of participating in a combative tournament great fun.
Gryffindor had just scored another goal, when Harry saw the fluttering of gold wings. "Down and to the right, mate. I have to catch the little gold thing. Just go as hard and fast as you can and feel for my directions."
'Aye, Sir Harry!' And with that, Hippogriff and human went into a spectacular dive. A blur of motion to the left drew Harry's attention. The Ravenclaw Seeker had obviously spotted it too, and she was racing towards the golden ball with a burning ferocity.
"She won't beat us," Harry growled. It had taken him half a second to realize that the opposing Seeker was none other than the very same Miss Chang that Harry had proclaimed his undying yearning for earlier in the year and in retaliation she and many of her friends had adopted the sport of Harry hunting. Harry failed to find the amusement and as such made it a point of personal pride to beat her.
Cutting in on a diagonal course, Cho managed to snake in front of her rival for a few seconds, but a few seconds was all it took.
Harry was mesmerized. Arse… beautiful, round, perfect-for-bearing-kittens arse, was all that flashed through his dazed mind as he and Gordon trailed their opponent, all thoughts of revenge flying right out of his head. If he shifted his weight a little and sat up just enough, he could get a better view…
'Harry! What are you doing? The small flying egg is changing direction. You must catch it, mustn't you?'
"Follow that arse!" Harry yelled, and without thinking sat up even straighter. A second later and the Bludger would have sailed harmlessly over the messy head of hair, but it didn't. Though mercifully, Harry was pretty sure he was unconscious the moment it struck him so he was thus saved the headache of the moment and the uncomfortable, though relatively short, fall to the ground.
"Potter is out, and Chang catches the Snitch. The match goes to Gryffindor, Two hundred ten to one hundred eighty!" Lee Jordan called out, his voice in a state of confusion due to the conflicting feelings of winning the match but losing the Snitch. It just didn't happen very often.
oOo
When Harry finally awoke, he was once again in the Hospital wing, judging by the lack of décor, and his head was pounding. Actually it seemed easier to find the bits that weren't hurting and catalogue them as the rest seemed bent on total agony.
"Oh, sex me. Why do I always end up here?" Harry moaned.
"Maybe you won't when you learn to duck," came Fred's distinct voice.
Harry turned slowly and saw both Fred and George grinning at him. "Quite the scare you gave us, Harry. Half the tower wanted to show up, but Madam Pomfrey said she wouldn't clear you for visitors 'till you woke up."
"But you're here anyway?"
George grinned. "Well, us and that orange furball that's always hanging around." Looking to his right, Harry could see Crookshanks give a quick swish of his tail and twitch one ear in greeting. 'Yo,' was all he said.
"How did you get in?" Harry groggily mused.
"Please, Harry, do give us some credit. Until our ways were reformed, we were the Hogwarts reigning troublemakers. We can get in and out of most places in the castle quick as a wink."
"Oh, I see. Why are you here then?"
"Harry, we're here to check in on you. That and both our younger siblings threatened to hex us into oblivion if we didn't at least let them know how you were doing."
"Well, I hurt just about everywhere and it isn't a pleasant sensation, but I've been through worse. I'll survive."
"Harry, on a bit more serious note…" Fred began.
"Because you know Wood is going to ask, why did you miss the Snitch?"
"Well that bird got in front of me, didn't she?" Harry retorted.
"Harry, we all saw it. You sat up a little, you slowed yourself down. Why?"
"It wasn't to get a peak at her arse, was it?" George guffawed. Harry, remembering, finally, exactly why he'd sat up a little bit turned bright red and said nothing.
"It was?" Fred and George echoed together. "Blimey. You're a bit young for that, aren't you? At the very least I wouldn't tell Ginny that."
"Not like I want to go broadcasting it around," Harry mumbled. Feeling deeply ashamed of the fact that he'd allowed a good set of hips distract him from the hunt. He'd have to talk to Father about this when he returned home in the summer. Hopefully it didn't affect his hunting abilities any more than it had. If he'd been in the bush, Harry realized, he'd be dead now.
"Wouldn't tell Wood, either. The only thing Wood's got eyes for is a Quaffle or a new player."
"Only thing he's got wood for either," George snickered.
"George, mate, I told you that wasn't a challenge," Fred rebuked.
"What wasn't?" Harry asked.
"Oh, Katie Bell said she was reasonably sure that she'd heard every dirty pun involving Oliver's name and lover boy took it as a personal challenge."
"Oi! I don't say anything when you start making moon eyes at that Hufflepuff two years ahead of us do I?" George retorted. Both twins began glaring at each other intensely. Harry could feel a good sibling brawl coming on, and while those were always entertaining he couldn't join and his head hurt too much to properly enjoy it anyway.
"Hey, knock it off. You want to kill yourselves, go ahead, but wait until I'm out of here."
With angry looks at their other half, Fred and George got down to discussing more mundane topics of conversation, such as how spectacular Harry was during the game (apart from the unmentioned Snitch missing incident), or filling him in on what he'd missed while he was unconscious.
"And then, McLaggen took his shirt off and started asking for twenty pound notes stuffed into his pants!" Fred roared at the end of the story. Harry chuckled as loudly as he could without further aggravating his injuries.
"Where did you get the Firewhisky? I've never seen it at the parties before," Harry asked.
"Oh… here and there, Harry. Fancy a nip?" Fred murmured.
"No, not at the moment. I might have to take you up on it later."
"Well, be sure to bring your Galleons. We can get it, but it isn't always cheap. Unless you buy the cheap stuff, but I think the only thing that stuff is good for is raising baby dragons."
Harry jolted suddenly remembering the incident in his first year. "Where did you learn about baby dragons?"
"Hagrid mentioned something about it in Class the other week. He was thinking about having us do a project on raising them, but he said that might have to wait until our NEWT year."
Harry shuddered involuntarily. It was close. No one, apart from those that had been there, knew why Harry and his friends had been docked two hundred points two years ago, and in all honesty, he'd like to keep it that way.
"You alright, Harry?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, but I thought you were done with your prankster ways?" Harry asked.
"Oh, we are, but exceptions should be made from time to time. I mean if we spot a talking bottle of Firewhisky we'll know damn well not to talk back, but what is the point of having all this knowledge if you can't use it to get your fellow students pissed once in awhile, and let's face it, Harry, after the show you put on earlier we all needed something to take the edge off."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Well, we must be off, then, before Madam Pomfrey comes back from wherever she's off to. We'll see you when you're mobile, yeah?"
Harry grinned, "Yeah." It was nice to have friends who cared.
oOo
The next week passed relatively uneventfully, but Harry was managing to once again produce a corporeal Patronus more often than not, and with their disastrous discussion behind them, the atmosphere was no longer one of total distrust. The rest of his traditional classes were going well, too, but without History of Magic to skive, Harry found that his frolicking was severely reduced.
The upcoming weekend promised a great deal of frolicking and revelry, as it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry still wasn't allowed to go, but that didn't worry him. "Want to get out into Hogsmeade this weekend, Sparkplug?" Harry asked.
Ginny, who was revising her potions homework with a vengeance, stopped and stared at him. "Sure, if we can keep practicing hunting when we get back."
Harry shrugged, but the smile was plastered across his face. He had his friend back and they had been slowly working on the art of the stalk. Harry was amazed at how quickly his human picked up what he was trying to teach, but he supposed he really shouldn't be. She was his human after all.
Saturday arrived with an air of anticipation about it. It seemed everyone wanted to go see both Zonko's and the remains of the Shrieking Shack. Harry had no desire to see either, so he figured that he and Ginny could safely tour the village without undue interference. He'd even consulted the map and found another entrance to the village, through the cellar of Honeydukes.
"You all set, Sparkplug?"
"Let's go, Paws," Ginny grinned back. Both were bundled snugly, and headed for the portrait exit, when it swung open suddenly.
"Mr. Potter, please come with me," McGonagall ordered. Her tone brooked no argument. Harry and Ginny exchanged worried glances and once again Harry found himself being escorted by a teacher. This time, however it was to McGonagall's own office.
"Mr. Potter, while I'm aware of your ability to keep yourself and very likely Miss Weasley safe, Dumbledore asked that I keep an eye on you and not allow you to wander off during this festive expedition outside the castle walls."
"Oh, I see," was all Harry could think to say. Inside he was fuming. He was missing out on a chance to go frolic because some barmy old coot thought him incompetent.
"However, I did not bring you up here specifically to trap you in my office."
"Then why, Cousin?"
McGonagall chuckled ever so slightly, and Harry's jaw nearly hit the floor. His stern Transfiguration Professor had a sense of humour, who knew?
"Indeed, esteemed relative of mine, I asked you here on a very serious and… private matter. Can I trust that anything said inside these walls will in fact remain between family?"
Harry's mind was spinning with shock. Not only did his cousin finally establish that she had the capability of laughter, but she had finally acknowledged their tenuous familial relationship. "I suppose."
"Harry, did you mean what you said about working with Sirius Black?"
"Yes, Cousin, I did. I don't think he betrayed Lily-mum and James-dad. I really don't think he wants to kill me, and I'm positive he isn't working for that body-possessing, unicorn-killing, prat of dark nobility."
"What makes you so sure?" McGonagall pressed.
"Cousin, he could have killed me so many times I can't count them on all my toes and whiskers, and he did help fix Angelina. He really only wants justice."
"Who's Angelina?"
"The sentient car that lives in the forest."
"Oh," McGonagall replied. "But, Harry, if he wants justice why doesn't he turn himself in? Allow the whole thing to go to trial."
Harry shook his head slowly. "I didn't say he wanted to be set free, I said he wanted justice. He wants to be guilty of the murder they convicted him for and I aim to see that it happens."
"Harry," McGonagall snapped. "You can't go around wantonly killing! If you don't consider the consequences of you actions legally, then at least think of the state of your soul. Do you want it to be tainted with murder?"
"It's part of the hunt, Cousin. I would have thought you'd realised that by now. I doubt the liquidation of one rat will cause undue strain on my soul as it is. Besides that, all Kneazles go to heaven."
"I thought the saying was all dogs?"
"Ugh…" Harry grimaced. "Can you imagine the smell? No, dogs are the personal minions of Sirius and Anubis."
"Harry, I need you to assure me that you're not going to go hunting Lestrange and his friend, please," McGonagall's tone softened slightly with her request.
Harry batted a hand dismissively. "No need to worry, Professor. After the last fiasco, I'm going to let them come to me. Then I can kill them with the help of all my friends!"
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" McGonagall muttered.
"No, but it is the truth."
"I suppose. Well, you better be off. I'm asking, one feline to another, please stay out of Hogsmeade today."
Harry thought briefly for a moment and then nodded. He really couldn't deny his teacher anything when she used the familial connection. Of course that street went two ways…
"Well then, I'm off, Professor. Is there anything else you'll be needing?"
"No, Mr. Potter, I don't believe there is," McGonagall said, reverting back into official teacher mode.
Just as Harry reached the door, he grinned cheekily at his head of house. "Anything you say McGiggles." And with that, he ran like his life depended on it.
Finally arriving just outside Hagrid's Hut, where he and Ginny had agreed to meet, should anything go wrong, he heard the sound of laughter emanating from the humble abode.
Pushing the door open slightly, he slunk in but was noticed a moment later by both Hagrid and Ginny. "'Arry, yer 'ere! I was jus' tellin' Ginny some stories about her brother, Charlie. Brilliant chap, he was. Such a way wit' the beasts. Not like, you 'o course, but he had a way about 'im."
Harry smiled a little at the obvious praise. "Sounds good, Hagrid. McGonagall finished up with me; did you still want to go practice a little, Sparkplug?"
Ginny's eyes lit up as she hopped off the stool she was sitting on and leapt to the floor. "I'm in. You don't mind do you, Hagrid?"
Hagrid merely chuckled. "I don' mind at all. Jus' don't be gettin' into any trouble now. I reckon you've had a life's worth already, 'Arry."
"Come on, Paws!" Ginny squealed, once again ecstatic at the possibility of learning the secret art of 'the stalk' as Harry had begun calling it. He merely smiled and headed out after her. It was good to have his human back.
"Young love," Hagrid chuckled softly, a minute later. It seemed only yesterday that Ginny's own parents were chasing after each other and being caught in compromising positions after curfew. He knew they were a bit young for that, but it was nice to see two youngsters so obviously taken with one another, even if they didn't realize it yet.
AN: Well that's 37, folks. Hope you enjoyed it and I must say, we're approaching the end of the year rather rapidly (I know it doesn't seem it, but there really isn't much left to cover). How did you like Harry and McGonagall's heart to heart? He really is bringing out the cat in her, isn't he? Anyway, hope to have this wrapped up no later than Ch. 45 and then a well earned break for this Kneazle! Growing Up Kneazle will be followed by a sequel. Years four and five. As always, reviews are loved, suggestions appreciated and constructive criticism taken into consideration. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time and effort to read this fiction of mine. Finally, I am also pleased to introduce a new member to TEAM UPDATE! Forget-me-knot with the power to unravel even the most insidious plot holes, she valiantly works TEAM UPDATE's coffee pot, and keeps the team MINIVAN in working order. Seriously, a huge shout out to Forget-me-knot for being such a great sounding board. No, folks that isn't her real name, but what are alias' for if not keeping your identity a secret?