The following morning Fowler walked in on them all in the dining room while they were having breakfast with a scowl on his face.

"The last of the official team robes have arrived," he announced, folding his arms. There was a dramatic pause.

"And this is the end of the world?" Aardash asked tentatively, causing Fowler to narrow his eyes.

"It means the photographers have descended," he said, tapping his foot impatiently. "It's time for the official team portrait."

"We've already done one of those! Two weeks ago!" Nate didn't look happy, and Harry could see why. Just that morning, on his daily jog, Nate had once more been bitten by the garden jarvey and his nose had swelled to twice its normal size.

"Not with the two new players," Fowler said, jerking his head irritably towards Harry and Evan as though this was all their fault. "Official EAQ photographer is downstairs and there's one from the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly, and a couple sporting ones as well."

"Can't they just wait till the press conference tomorrow?" Emmy grumbled. "They'll be taking photos then anyway!"

"Not of you in team robes they won't," Fowler said. He twitched his misshapen nose. "Publicity's good and all, but I swear, if they make us miss one minute of practice time, I'll hex them. I despise photoshoots."

Harry could not say he blamed him. His only experience of a photoshoot had not been a pleasant one. At least Rita Skeeter wouldn't be at this one.

As the pictures would be taken down at the stadium, they all rushed the rest of their breakfast and headed down as quickly as they could with their brooms, passing the photographers on the way, who nudged each other excitedly, each one wearing an emerald security bracelet and a pointed hat with the word PRESS emblazoned on it. They also passed some members of the Swedish team who did not seem happy that they were being chucked off the pitch at their normal training time. Fowler arranged to pay back their lost time with a very begrudging attitude.

Once at the stadium, the team showed Harry to the changing rooms which had been assigned to the England team and which he hadn't entered before, having always gotten changed up at the Lodge. Inside, there was a row of benches on which were sitting seven identical boxes, each one with the logo of Quality Quidditch Supplies on it.

"All handmade without magic," Becca said to him, as she opened her own box. "Seems a bit of a waste to me to get new robes for every game, but there you go."

Harry turned to the box with his own name on it with a thrill of excitement. He removed the lid and pulled aside some delicate tissue paper to reveal a set of exquisitely made official Quidditch robes in flowing folds of snow white and vivid scarlet. Almost breathless, he lifted out the robes, marvelling at how strong, yet still soft the material was. The texture was almost like silk and would serve him well when reaching his top speeds. The official England crest was on the left breast, three dragons clutching Quidditch balls in their claws, with the words European Championship Final 1996 stitched underneath. Turning the material over, he saw his name on the back in dazzling gold thread.

"I know you're only fifteen, mate, but surely we don't have to show you how to put on robes," Aardash quipped, grinning at him as he saw Harry had stood looking at them for several minutes. "They go over your head, you don't just stare at them."

"Leave him alone, Dash," Emmy said, rolling her eyes. She winked at Harry. "I was the same when I got my first set. Think I slept in them for a week."

"A week, Em? Think there's some dodgy folks on the black market catering to sleazy old warlocks who'd pay hand over fist to get their hands on those!"

Laughing off his momentary embarrassment as Emmy rolled her eyes at Aardash, Harry began to pull them on, admiring how close fitting they were yet how much freedom of movement he had. Despite the thinness of the material, he felt comfortably warm, as though the fabric itself magically adjusted to his body heat, which, he reminded himself, it probably did. Light enough not to impede his flying, yet still not too thin to make him feel the cold up in the air. He only wished his Gryffindor robes were of such high quality. Team robes at Hogwarts were usually passed down to the next generation of players, with only a few minor adjustments to make them fit. Harry's were severely frayed by now.

Once dressed, he looked around the changing room and got another wave of exhilaration as he saw everyone else dressed in the team kit, just as he'd seen them in all the photos in the Daily Prophet before he arrived. He really was part of the team now.

Evan was also looking around, a similar expression on his own face. He caught Harry's eye and smiled, his cheeks flushing.

Fowler barged in and grumpily ordered them all out onto the pitch to reduce the amount of lost training time they had to pay back to the Swedish team, and they did as asked, Emmy checking her hair in the mirror one last time and Nate rubbing his nose mournfully, having tried various spells to try and make it shrink back to its normal size.

They marched onto the pitch in brilliant sunshine and Harry could almost imagine this was match day itself, but for the lack of spectators. The crowd of photographers were waiting, and an excited ripple passed through them as they saw the team approaching.

A bench had been placed on the pitch with a carefully chosen background of the stadium for the photos, and the team were directed towards this after depositing their brooms on the sidelines. The back row had Evan standing on the far left, the three Chasers next to him, and Fowler on the right, with the two Beaters in the front and Harry sitting in the centre of the first row between them. Fowler stalked up in front of them as they took their places.

"Watson, get those things out of your face," he barked.

Nate scowled as he tucked his dreadlocks behind his ear, having brought them forward to try and conceal his swollen nose.

"Haynes, stop that yawning. Khatri, take that ridiculous looking grin off your face. Potter, do something to fix your hair."

Harry tried to pat his hair down to appease Fowler, despite knowing it was futile. He could hear Aardash chortling next to him.

Once Fowler was finally satisfied, he took his own position and glowered at the photographers, all of whom seemed uncertain as to whether to ask him to smile or not.

It was a long process, and Harry's cheeks were soon aching from the smiles he was forcing himself to give as photographer after photographer stepped forwards to take a series of photos, occasionally yelling out instructions for them to move closer together or darting forwards to adjust someone's robes or reposition their hands. Harry felt rather like a ragdoll being repositioned every which way imaginable, or like some sort of unwilling model.

After they were finally done, the photographers had them mount their brooms for a team photo in the air, the photographers following them up on borrowed brooms and wobbling slightly as they pointed their cameras at them,

Then it was time for the individual photographs which took yet more time as the photographers wanted a static one on the ground of the player holding their broom, one in the air and an action shot. Harry and the others waited at the side as these were done one by one, with the photographers seeming to take a long time on Emmy, who tossed her hair and winked at the camera to encourage them, being uncharacteristically flirtatious. Despite being a serious player, she also knew how much money she made off of selling her image. Harry knew these photos would soon be plastered over every boy's dormitory at Hogwarts.

When it came to Harry, they again spent a lot of time on him, flashing picture after picture until he was almost blinded. The novelty of wearing the robes and having official photos taken had now entirely worn off, and he couldn't wait to get back into his training robes and take to the air. It struck Harry at some point that these photographs of him would soon be being made into posters and put into programmes, or even transferred onto tiny little models, as he'd seen at the Quidditch World Cup. The thought was as strange as it was exciting.

Then came yet more photos, with the three Chasers having one and the two Beaters, and then one of Fowler on his own; only one, because he'd glared at them when they'd asked for more.

Before they were dismissed however, the lead photographer asked for one more.

"The two new players," he said, making the others nod excitedly. "Since they're the youngest. Everyone's dying to learn more about them!"

Evan and Harry exchanged a glance and stepped up. They stood side by side with a gap between them at first, but the photographer shook his head. He came forwards and readjusted them until they were far closer, and their shoulders were touching, angling them slightly so they were facing away from each and then turning their heads, making them almost back to back.

Happy, the photographer stepped back to take the picture, unaware that by putting the two of them into contact he'd started a rapid fluttering of Harry's heart. He was painfully aware of Evan's shoulder pressing against his own, the heat of his flesh through the thin material, the sound of his breathing. Harry felt such a rush of feeling he did not even need to fake the smile on his face. He was almost disappointed when the photographers were done and they had to step away from each other.

"Two hours!" Fowler moaned as they headed back up to the Lodge after the shoot. "Two bloody hours we've to pay back to those damn Swedes. Training won't start till four! All for a few poncey photos!"

None of the team dared say anything to him in this mood. He stormed off back to the Lodge, probably to rage at some EAQ official while the others, actually quite pleased at having an extended break, sought to make best use of it. Becca and Nate were soon walking off towards the gardens, hand in hand, while Elias and Aardash spoke cheerfully about whipping up some souffles. Emmy mentioned something about heading to the pool, leaving Harry and Evan alone.

"Want to go for a walk?" Evan asked him.

Still feeling a little unnerved at his reaction to being close to Evan at the photoshoot, Harry nevertheless found himself nodding, and was soon following Evan off into the woods.

They did not speak for at least half an hour, but Harry did not mind. The walk, though tough in places across uneven ground which rose and fell steeply, was refreshing, and he enjoyed the sensation of being under the cool leaves after the stifling warmth of the morning. The silences between them now were becoming less awkward, and far more comforting, as Harry realised that Evan was perfectly happy for there to be no conversation at all. He was someone, it seemed, who preferred to watch and listen than chatter inanely. Harry found he was becoming quite appreciative of that.

They came across a small river which cut its way through the trees like a sparkling blue ribbon in the July sunlight. Evan stopped by its banks, taking a seat on a rock which protruded slightly into the water. He bent over and scooped up some of the water to splash it over his face, the droplets running down his skin like crystal beads reflecting the light. Harry watched the progress of those beads as they crossed his tanned cheeks, suddenly mesmerised.

Evan looked up and smiled. "Come on, sit down. It's a beautiful day."

Harry joined him on an adjacent rock and looked out over the river with him, closing his eyes and soaking in the sunlight. This was one thing he had not done at the Dursleys, not since Sirius died. Here, that dark little bedroom in Privet Drive and all the misery that came with it seemed a million miles away.

Evan nudged him suddenly, and Harry opened his eyes to see Evan pointing to a point in the water before them.

"Grindylows," he said quietly, "you see?"

Harry peered closer and indeed soon saw a couple of familiar looking little creatures lurking in the river weeds. Evan was grinning.

"I've never seen any before," he said, a new animation lighting up his eyes. "How amazing!"

Harry laughed, pleased at the lively expression he was seeing for the first time. "The lake at Hogwarts is full of them. Some of them tried to grab me during the Second Task and almost pulled me down."

Evan looked at him with awe. "How much danger do you get yourself in?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "More than I should probably tell you."

Evan shook his head with a sigh and looked back at the Grindylows. "Well, they haven't harmed me yet. I love reading about creatures like this. Magical things from all over the world. I've travelled a lot and seen quite a few, but there's still some on my list I've yet to tick off."

"You've travelled?" Harry asked. He felt a twinge of jealousy. "I haven't been anywhere. This is my first time outside of Britain."

"Really? I've been loads of places," Evan said, suddenly excitable. "All across Europe and Asia mostly, but I did spend some time in Nigeria too."

"Why did you travel so much?" Harry asked.

Evan's excitement dampened a little. He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, before apparently deciding to go ahead. "You remember how I said I was hurt when I was little? Well, my parents took me lots of places to get me help. But we never stayed anywhere long, except maybe Nepal."

Harry was more curious than ever about this mysterious incident when he was a child but could tell he was not comfortable talking about it, so dropped it.

"Must have been hard moving so much," Harry said instead, "can't have had much time for friends."

"No," Evan said wistfully, gazing into the water. "I guess …" He stole half a glance at Harry before continuing, cheeks turning pinker, "… I guess I've always been a bit different. I liked to say I was a loner, but I think I was just lonely."

Evan flushed deeper and lowered his head. "I don't relate well to others, as I'm sure you guessed. I just find it awkward and never know what to say, so I don't say much. Maybe it's because I was kept out of school and away from others for so long, I don't know."

He turned his head slightly, looking anxious. "I hope you don't think I was being rude that first day when I wasn't there to meet you. I heard Fowler say to 'meet Potter when he arrives' but I didn't really interpret it right; I thought that could mean any time the day you arrived. That's the sort of thing I mean. I don't work well with others."

"Of course, I didn't think that," Harry said, though, privately thinking that this was fairly close to the mark of how he'd thought of him that first day. "And I don't think you work badly with others either. You're part of the team, right?"

Evan sent him a crooked smile. "Keepers don't do much teamwork."

"Not true," Harry said, remembering what Viktor had said. "The whole team has to work together, or nothing works."

He could see Evan didn't totally believe him, and it genuinely upset Harry to see him so dismissive of himself. He had a sudden wild urge to reach out and put his arm around him.

"I don't have any friends," Evan admitted, blushing again as though this was some terrible failure, "not one. Most people just kind of dismiss me as being a bit awkward and unfriendly. No one … no one really took an interest in me. Until you, that is."

Harry stared at him a moment, heart pounding in his chest as he observed how shy Evan had suddenly started to seem after saying that. Something warm had blossomed inside him. He was about to say something before Evan laughed lightly, trying to dispel his awkwardness.

"I suppose that sounds really pathetic."

"No," Harry said immediately, making him look up. "It reminds me of someone. Me."

"You?" Evan said in disbelief. "But you're so different. You have loads of friends, right? I mean, you're the most famous teenager in the world."

"Doesn't mean I have loads of friends," Harry said, sighing. "I've got some now, some really good ones. But before I went to Hogwarts, I had no one. My aunt and uncle hate magic and they were really … well, they didn't exactly make me feel welcome. My cousin was a huge bully and I didn't have anyone to talk to at all. I was so alone, and I didn't even know magic was real, so I didn't understand why I kept doing weird things and why it made my uncle so angry. The Dursleys thought if they kept me miserable enough, they'd, uh, 'stamp out that dangerous nonsense'. Ron was my first friend—I met him on the train to school. And some of the people at school just see the scar and nothing else. They judge me before they know me, like the Daily Prophet did all last year. No one more than me understands what it's like to have no one, to long for a friend. I count myself lucky every day I managed to make some."

He felt himself growing hotter as he said this, but knew Evan would not judge, or think him weird. He seldom allowed his miserable childhood to catch up with him, but now he couldn't help but recall every lonely hour spent in his cupboard wishing for someone to come and take him away, how desperately lonely he'd been.

"I didn't know that about you. Your childhood."

"Yeah, well, I try and keep it out the Daily Prophet," Harry said bitterly, fiddling with the laces on his shoes. "People assume 'famous' means happy, and it couldn't be further from the truth. Especially these days when I—"

He stopped himself just in time before he began blathering to Evan about the prophecy. He hadn't realised just how comfortable he was letting himself be with him. That was something he hadn't even shared with Ron and Hermione yet.

Evan did not press him for details, as Harry had not done for him.

"I think you were very brave, putting up with everything the Daily Prophet said about you," Evan said, offering a small smile. "Sticking to your story last year when everyone was against you. I admire that."

Harry thought he might actually be floating a few inches off the rock he was sitting on, his spirits had swelled so rapidly. What did he care about some stupid prophecy; Evan thought he was brave. He admired him.

Evan seemed to realise the effect he'd had on him and his smile broadened. He actually had such an incredible smile. His entire face was changed, and a slight dimple formed in his left cheek. It was such a change from the stiff, lifeless looking boy everyone else saw. Get past the initial awkwardness and Evan was one of the nicest guys Harry had ever known. He couldn't ever imagine talking to Ron like this. Evan brought something out of Harry which didn't make him afraid to be himself, to let loose how he really felt.

Harry could help but steal a few more glances at him as they sat on their respective rocks listening to the trickle of the water and swaying trees. He looked so good out here; being indoors did him no justice at all. His hair practically shone gold, and his eyes sparkled brightly and caught the light in a fascinating way. His hair fluttered slightly in the breeze, and Harry longed to stretch out his hand and run his fingers through it, to see if it was as soft as it looked. In fact, he longed to just reach out and touch him.

Dragging himself from these confusing thoughts, Harry deliberately looked away, swallowing hard. He gazed up at the sky and the white clouds which were scattered over the periwinkle blue expanse. His eyes caught one cloud in particular, which seemed to be undulating in the breeze. The rippling movements reminded him forcibly of the swirling white mist inside the prophecies in the Department of Mysteries.

He gasped aloud as he again felt a stab of pain to the heart as he remembered those stupid prophecies, which Sirius had lost his life over, and the one which threatened to hang over Harry's head the rest of his life like a death sentence.

"Harry? You okay?"

"Yeah," Harry, recovering slightly and not wanting to get into all that just now. Evan was watching him in some concern. "I just … got hit with a bad memory."

Evan grimaced. "I know how that feels," he said ominously. He hesitated for a moment. "Do you want me to teach you to meditate? That always helps me."

"Really?"

Harry had never really understood how meditation had worked and had pretty much dismissed it around the same time he'd dismissed Divination as being a bit wishy-washy, but the encouraging look on Evan's face convinced him.

"Yeah, okay then," Harry said, making Evan grin again.

At the very least, it would mean he got to spend even more time in Evan's confusing yet comforting company.