Author's notes:
Standard disclaimer. It all belongs to JKR. Thank you for letting us play with your toys.
I will continue to use the occasional song lyric in the story and will give credit at the time when needed.
This is the seventh book in my Slytherin Harry series and covers Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts.
Book 1: Harry Potter and the Muggle's Daughter
Book 2: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Book 3: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Book 4: Harry Potter and the Blood Traitor's Daughter
Book 5: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Book 6: Harry Potter; Flesh, Blood and Bone
Book 7: Harry Potter and the Lady of the Lake
If you haven't read books 1-6 you won't know what's going on. But the bonus is you've got six completed books before you even get to this one!
Fair warning, this story will continue to be dark and have mature language and situations in it.
Harry Potter and the Lady of the Lake
Chapter XXVI
Jealous of Every Single Moment
By the time the second weekend in October arrived the growing buzz of the first round of the talent competition had effectively driven news of the outside world and its problems from within Hogwarts storied walls. Even Harry, given the green light from Ginny, was feeling the excitement. Professor McGonagall wasn't messing around with the scope of it and Harry had to admit her little brain-child was rather effectively taking the students' attention away from the fact Hogsmeade visits were now likely canceled for the entire year.
The competition would take place over two rounds in October and November, then take a break in December, January and February to allow for the already full schedule of Christmas and quidditch during those months and then resume with two more rounds in March, and April and then finals in May before they closed out the year with exams. Harry couldn't help feeling a bit of relief it was his sixth year and he was between O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. He'd been feeling a lot better since the night he'd talked to Ginny in the bath and she'd convinced him they needed things like his music and quidditch, but having either of those sets of exams on his plate too may have just been enough drive him mental.
"I still can't believe you won't tell us," Hermione groused.
"He won't even tell me," Ginny pouted. She felt she had far more reason than any of the others to want to know what Harry was planning. She knew her husband after all and the likelihood whatever he did sing was going to be about her was at least at even odds. It wasn't like she was embarrassed or anything like that. But part of the reason Harry's music was so good was because he didn't hold back and she was understandably nervous about having their relationship put on display in front of the entire school. But she trusted Harry, and had been doing her best not to pester him too very much… She hoped.
"If you must know," Harry said, "it's all about the secret affair Luna and I are having." Ginny kicked him. "Ow!"
"Told you, you should have told her about us in private," Luna said, spreading jam atop her cream covered scone.
"Are you kidding," Harry retorted. "If she'll kick me where everyone can see, I don't even want to imagine what she'd do to me in private."
"Oh," Ginny said, "I'm going to do things to you in private."
Harry grinned. "Excellent, a punishment night."
Daphne moaned. "I think I'm going to be sick."
"I already threw up in my mouth once," Hermione said.
"I should think you'd be more concerned," Neville said. "It's your girlfriend he's having an affair with."
"As I'm sleeping with his wife, it's fine." Ginny spurted juice across the table. "Sorry, Love," Hermione said, patting her back.
"Seriously?" Daphne said. She leaned back from the table. Neville handed her a napkin and she started blotting at her robes with it. Harry held his hand out to Luna, getting a fist bump back. "I'm going to murder you all," Daphne muttered.
"What did I do?" Neville complained.
"You encourage him."
"Me?" Harry said. "It was Hermione that had Ginny spewing like a lawn sprinkler with a Drowning Hex on it."
"I don't even know why I like any of you."
"You'd be bored without us," Ginny said.
"I assure you, Ginevra, I am more than capable of entertaining myself without your lots' juvenile antics."
Harry leaned over and stage whispered in Ginny's ear. "I think she's feeling left out. Maybe you should try more than just a peck before bed tonight."
Ginny eyed Daphne before shrugging. "Might be nice kissing someone taller than a house elf."
"Oi!" Harry complained.
"Oh!" Luna, Hermione and Neville cried at the same time.
"Sick," Neville added, impressed.
Daphne grinned and held her hand out to Ginny, getting a fist bump from the redhead. "I do love you."
"I think I've reconsidered my song after all," Harry muttered. Ginny leaned over, trying to kiss his cheek. "Nope," Harry said, leaning away from her. "Nope, nope, nope." She kept pushing and he eventually gave in, allowing her to kiss his cheek, and then his jaw and nip at his ear.
"I love you and you know it."
"Whatever," Harry retorted, continuing to pout.
"And now we're back where we started," Daphne complained.
"It is sickening," Hermione agreed.
Half an hour later the excitement was at a fever pitch and Harry was decidedly nervous. "Can't believe I'm first," he muttered. "Bloody cursed."
"You'll be fine," Ginny assured him.
Ginny might not have been so dismissive if she'd known Professor McGonagall had, so to speak, stacked the deck so that Harry's name would be the first drawn. Hey, she wanted to start things off well and it wasn't like she'd entered him against his will or anything. Whatever, with some seventy contestants set to compete it was time to get started. She stepped out onto the stage that had been erected in the Great Hall and for probably the first time in her long tenure the silence fell almost instantly. It was enough that it threw her for a second. "Well," she said, recovering, "if I'd known getting your attention only required a talent competition, I'd have done so long ago." A smattering of laughs and chuckles swept the hall.
"I don't know about anyone else," Harry called, "but I've always known ignoring you was done at my own peril."
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips as her eyes settled on him. "And I, Mr Potter, have always known you bore watching more than any other ten students combined."
"Now there's a true story," Daphne muttered in the laughter that swept the hall after.
"Only ten?" Harry protested, falsely affronted.
Professor McGonagall's lip twitched. "Surely your head isn't so big as to think twelve."
"Don't bet on it, Professor," Daphne kept up her near silent commentary.
"Twelve?" Harry complained. "I'm worth at least the next twenty troublemakers in this school."
"You're certainly as annoying as the next twenty most annoying prats in the school," Daphne said loudly. "And do please shut up so we can get started, will you?"
"As always, Miss Greengrass, you are exemplary in the performance of your duties." McGonagall said.
"Amen!" A voice called. Daphne stood and took a bow.
Harry clapped his hand over his heart. "Now I'm really hurt."
"If only it was your mouth that was broken," Anwen Reece teased.
Harry glowered at the girl who just smiled sweetly back. "See if you get a secret admirer gift for Valentines this year." She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Harry," Ginny said. Drawing his attention. She placed her finger over his lips. "Shush," she said.
Harry sagged. "Yes, dear."
"Whipped," someone shouted, bringing another round of hearty laughter to the gathered crowd.
Professor McGonagall held her hands up while speaking over the noise. "Yes, yes, I'm glad to find you all in good spirits and I can only hope this spirit of oneness continues throughout the competition and even the rest of the year. I have little more to say other than I look forward to seeing what our contestants have in store for us. Heads, prefects, I turn things over to you.
Hermione, Daphne and Neville quickly stood and moved to join the train of their compatriots. If for nothing more than the fact being a contestant exempted Harry from any duties to do with staging the competition he was again grateful to Ginny for insisting he enter. Frankly, the hours spent in his preparations were less than he'd have spent as an administrator to the effort and that said nothing for those hours having been far more enjoyable.
"All right," Cillian Mac Pháidín, the year's head boy from Gryffindor said. "I think we're ready. He glanced at Roisin Óbrion, his counterpart from Hufflepuff for the year.
The head girl consulted her clipboard. She frowned slightly. "Potter's first," she said. "But he's not turned anything in."
"He said to tell you he didn't need anything for this round," Daphne said. Just dim the torches to about half."
"Nothing?" she asked. "No lights or accompanying track, just dim the torches?"
Daphne shook her head. "Nope."
"Very well then. Let's get things rolling." She nodded to Scarlett Johansen who had ascended to the roll of seventh-year prefect for Hufflepuff when Roisin was named head girl.
Scarlett stepped onto the stage waving her arms in an up and down motion. "Let's hear some noise, Hogwarts!" Students whooped and hollered and pounded on the tables at her exhortation. "Come on," her amplified voice cut across the noise. "I can't hear you!" The cheering rose from bedlam to thunderous.
"Any wonder she's replacing Lee as quidditch announcer," Neville murmured.
"Quite," Daphne agreed.
"Now that's what I'm talking about," Scarlett said. She let the crowd go for a moment or two longer before holding her hands up to silence them. The student's slowly started to respond and the noise fell to about half when Scarlett started lifting her arms up and down. It took a second for the crowd to catch on and start screaming again. Grinning ear-to-ear Scarlet stopped, holding her hands up high before she lowered them. The crowd responded, becoming quieter as her hands lowered and louder again as raised them slightly. She played them another few moments before dropping her hands to her sides and proclaiming, "All right, I think you're ready!" The crowd reached a new level of frenzy before quickly falling silent with anticipation. "Our first contestant comes to us by way of the snake. He'll be singing for us, and if rumor," she paused and winked to the crowd, "can be trusted he's an early favorite in the betting pools. I know nothing of what he has in store for us but am told he will be performing an original composition. Students, staff and guests, Hogwarts is proud to give you, HARRY POTTER!"
"Whew," Harry huffed, "if talent as an emcee was part of this, the competition would be over."
"Aren't you going to stand or something?" Ginny hissed at him.
"In a minute," he answered. The crowd was still making a fair bit of noise and he wanted it silent before he began.
"Potter?" Scarlett asked. "You out there?"
"Just waitin' for you all to shut up." Harry's answer quickly brought the silence he wanted. He then waited; a second, five, ten and then twenty.
Ginny nudged him, and gave him a look when he turned to her. Harry winked at her before returning to sitting with his arms resting on the table and his head slightly bowed. A moment later he took a breath and began.
You're broken down and tired.
Of living life on a merry go round.
And you can't find the fighter.
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out.
And move mountains.
We gonna walk it out.
And move mountains.
Even sitting right next to him, Ginny could do little but marvel at how he could somehow keep his voice soft yet still make his words heard by every person in the Great Hall. Even those way up in the back of the bleachers that had been erected for family of those students competing could clearly hear him and she knew it would only be more astonishing when he inevitably moved into the more rousing refrains of the song. As the next words left his mouth, Harry planted his hands on the table and pushed himself up.
And I'll rise up.
I'll rise like the day.
I'll rise up.
I'll rise unafraid.
I'll rise up.
And I'll do it a thousand times again.
Harry's voice rose with him, and the power of it reached into those around him. He stepped over the bench and slowly started to move up the aisle between the tables. The group of friends that had grown from himself, Hermione, Ginny and Luna their first year to include Neville and Daphne and then Anwen, Jessica Tanner, Gwyneth Thorne and Veronica Corbin – two years younger and Astoria Greengrass' friends – had continued to swell such that Harry – with the worst of the blood –purist lot no longer in attendance – now boasted growing relationships with most of the students in the school. Of course many of them he'd still only spoken a few words to, but he was well liked through all the houses. Even Ravenclaw, with Luna now firmly entrenched as the authority figure amongst the students of fifth-year and under, was on his side. And of course, as the goddess had mentioned, his collection of sisters was ever multiplying. Something Harry was not above taking advantage of.
And I'll rise up.
High like the waves.
I'll rise up.
In spite of the ache.
I'll rise up.
And I'll do it a thousands times again.
He paused in front of Anwen, Jessica, Gwyneth and Veronica. Smiling down on them as he continued to sing he reached down and brushed each girl's cheek.
For you.
For you.
For you.
For you.
Enthralled, blushing furiously, the four girls nearly sagged into puddles of goo when he gave them a last smile and resumed his trek down the aisle. His voice dropped again, but remained no less mesmerizing for it.
When the silence isn't quiet.
And it feels like it's getting hard to breathe.
And I know you feel like dying.
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet.
And move mountains.
We'll take it to its feet.
And move mountains.
And I'll rise up.
I'll rise like the day.
I'll rise up.
I'll rise unafraid.
I'll rise up.
And I'll do it a thousand times again.
Harry reached Luna and held his hand out to her. And the song, and the words, and the power of his voice as she placed her hand in his made it seem as if the sun itself was shining down on her alone.
For you.
For you.
For you.
For you.
Harry raised her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her fingers. She mouthed, "You too." He smiled and turned away from her, spinning a slow circle in place, and his voice grew and grew, powering into the very corners of the Great Hall; even spilling past the doors into the entry and out the windows high overhead.
All we need, all we need is hope.
And for that we have each other.
And for that we have each other.
We will rise.
We will rise.
We'll rise, oh oh.
We'll rise.
I'll rise up.
Rise like the day.
I'll rise up.
In spite of the ache.
I will rise a thousands times again.
And we'll rise up.
Rise like the waves.
We'll rise up.
In spite of the ache.
We'll rise up.
Harry stopped, moving, singing, and turned his entire focus on Ginny. Reaching for her cheek he drew her to her feet before the last refrains passed his lips.
And we'll do it a thousands times again.
For you oh oh oh oh oh.
For you oh oh oh oh oh.
For you oh oh oh oh oh.
For you.
Drawing her ever closer, till she was chest to chest with him and his lips pressed softly to hers when he was finished.
The silence that fell in the absence of his voice was as profound as his song had been. It seemed a spell had been cast, holding them all in place till Luna jumped to her feet and started cheering wildly. Anwen, Victoria, Gwyneth and Jessica followed almost instantly and then nearly everyone in the hall was on their feet applauding and cheering thunderously.
Staring up into his eyes, blushing furiously, Ginny said. "You simply can't be real."
"If you're a dream," he answered, "I never want to wake."
Up on the stage, where the prefects and the heads had been drawn out from the wings to watch Daphne shook her head. "Unbelievable," she muttered.
Hermione glanced at her curiously. "You know he can sing."
"Of course I do. And yet, despite the fact everyone here knows that was obviously written for Ginevra, he somehow made every female listening believe it was for them."
"True," Hermione agreed. "I do hope he hasn't discouraged too many of the others though."
Daphne snorted. "Rather doubtful after that."
Despite Daphne and Hermione's concern though, the day came to a close with a very respectable showing from a good number of the other contestants. Perhaps none had touched Harry's effort, but as Harry and Ginny were still cracking up at the standup comedy routine performed by Harper Scott, a fifth-year Ravenclaw, more than two hours later as the six friends sat up in the clock tower, maybe at least one person would give him a real run for his money. There were tomorrow's competitors yet to come as well so while Harry had certainly cemented his status as a front runner, things were far from over.
"If I could ask you all to please stand," Isla Wood asked.
The seventh-year Puff, centered in the bright glare of a single spotlight stood on the stage wearing a black leotard, white stockings, little flighty skirt and ballet shoes. She was the last competitor for the second day of the competition and where Harry and Harper Scott had been the clear class of the previous day, three more had distinguished themselves so far on day two. Andrew Young of Gryffindor, Stephanie Fawcett of Ravenclaw and Celeste Braken of Slytherin had all performed stunning renditions of their own creation or sung covers of popular songs. Little Celeste had floored Harry. She might have been only a first-year, but the girl had proved her pipes belting out Whitney Huston's, I Will Always Love You, and left him with his jaw hanging open. It was a song he'd always hesitated to even try. It was his opinion there was just nowhere to go with it but down. But not Celeste. The girl was as fearless on stage as she'd proved to be in carrying the unenviable burden of being Slytherin house's first ever non-magical born student. Little-girl, alone, had shown he wasn't going to just walk away with this competition.
"Now," Isla went on, "I know it's a bit crowded but if you could just spread out a little bit… Good. And if you will all please balance on one foot." As she spoke the willowy girl picked up her right foot and placed it flat to her left calf as she stood only on her left. Try to follow me if you can." Harry did so, finding it more difficult than he'd have first thought. "Very good," Isla said. While she spoke, she moved, straightening her right leg and slowly swinging it out and up till she was literally standing in the splits. "Just stay there as long as you can. Again you are welcome to follow me if you like."
Harry wasn't the only one to snort, "Not bloody likely," or something of similar refrain. He did manage to raise his leg about perpendicular to the floor before he lost his balance and stepped out. Which was far better than all but about Daphne and a few other girls. Though none of them even managed to bring their leg a bit more than a few degrees above horizontal.
"If you step out, go ahead and sit down again," Isla said. She hadn't so much as bobbled, standing perfectly straight in her perfect split like she was made of stone. And then she moved; suddenly, precisely, perfectly into en point. And then she stayed there. Not a bobble, not a swing of an arm or even the twitch of a single muscle in her face giving betrayal to the absurd difficulty of what she was doing. For near a minute there was nothing at all but the growing whispers of her awed audience.
"How long do you think she can stay there?"
"I wouldn't have bet this long."
"I say she falls inside thirty seconds."
"It's been over a minute already you eejit."
"Another thirty seconds, moron."
Isla's torso moved, eliciting a gasp from the crowd. Slowly, with grace and precision Harry didn't think he'd ever seen in his life she tipped forward till she was bent over perfectly in half with her arms wrapped tightly around her left leg. All the while her right remained pointed perfectly at the sky. She stayed there only a moment before her chest rose again and finally; almost mercifully, she brought her leg down. Holding it out straight behind her as her chest came up again. She continued to move, bringing her leg all the way down at the exact moment she was standing vertical. It was so quick, so perfectly timed, to blink would mean you missed the transition as she went from en pointe on her left foot to her right and now it was her left leg rising straight up in the air.
"By the goddess," Ginny breathed.
Isla turned her head and nodded. And a moment later, perfectly in time with the flexing of her left foot, a bell chimed. The next chime, her foot was pointed again. Chime, flex; chime, point. And then there was music building and Isla was moving and the audience was breathing, gasping, holding their breath as one till she collapsed at the precise moment her music ended. There was a brief moment of silence and Harry was jumping up on the table, his fingers in his mouth as he let out a whistle. The rest of the audience jumped to their feet and roared their approval with him.
An hour later Harry, Ginny and Daphne were in their sitting room just relaxing before heading to bed for the night. "I'm still not sure I believe I saw that," Harry said.
"Without doubt," Daphne said, "she is your steepest competition."
"Phfft," Harry said. "Did you watch that? There is no competition. She wins, hands down."
"It was one performance, Harry."
"It was perfection," Harry countered. "I can't even imagine the hours she's practiced to do that."
"Says the boy who leads our training regimen. Remind me again, how many hours have we put into that?"
"She leaves every day at three and has special permission to return after curfew to accommodate her practice schedule," Harry said. "Even giving her an hour to travel and eat, that's six hours. Most days we put in about half that."
Daphne shrugged. "It's still one performance. And you had just as powerful an effect on the audience as she did."
"She's right, Harry," Ginny said.
"You had every girl in the school believing you wrote and sang that song for them, Harry," Daphne said. "That is powerful. You can win if you want to."
Harry looked between the two girls dubiously. "You're both barmy," he said shaking his head. "But thanks."
A short while later Harry was curled on his side in their bed with Ginny mirroring him. She reached out and played with the collar of his shirt. "You seemed pretty impressed with Isla," she said.
Harry watched her. She'd been a little quiet since they'd come back, not really participating much in his and Daphne's discussion about Isla's performance and his belief she would win the competition. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
Ginny's fingers tracked along the bare skin of his neck. "I'm jealous of every single moment I'm not the focus of your attention."
Harry caught her hand. "I'm awed by the performance; by the time and effort, the dedication. If you gave me the chance, I could sit and watch her for hours. But if I had to choose, I'd much sooner sit and watch you fly."
"Really?"
"Watching you, when you went head-to-head with Victor, when you were spinning around each other all while corkscrewing down to the ground and seeing you spot the snitch and pull out of that dive; seeing you beat him. I've never seen anything so astonishing, so amazing, so bloody damn cool in my life. I'd rather see that one battle again a thousand times over than watch Isla perform a thousand different dances. And that it was you, who did it, only makes it far and away one of my favorite memories ever." He pulled her hand to his lips. "Just like Astoria wasn't, Isla, is not you."
Ginny watched him a few moments before pushing him to his back and moving to straddle his hips. Her hands went to the hem of her nightshirt and pulled it over her head. She tossed it to the floor and then took his wrists in her hands, pinning them over his head as she leaned over him. "You are mine," she growled softly. "I will share you, let you collect all your sisters. And I will be jealous. But I will know you are mine."
Harry rolled, in one motion reversing their positions. "Always," he rumbled, his lips hovering over hers.
She jerked her hands from his grasp, slid them down and grabbed at his shirt. "Now, Harry. I want you now." Harry was only too happy to give her what she asked.
Author's notes:
And there is the first round of the competition. Hope everyone liked it.
And next week's torture: Chapter 28, Gryffindor You're a Young Man