Chapter 12: A Toad and a Tryout
Harry tried his best to enjoy the feast despite the wary and hateful glances tossed his way. He could feel their sharp eyes burning into his back as he ate, reminding him that he was not welcome here.
The distrust of his classmates, especially his fellow Gryffindors, was hard to bear. He had hoped that the people who knew him personally would have taken the Daily Prophet with a grain of salt.
He struggled to ignore the whispering and the glares, trying to center himself. He was surrounded by good food and good friends. There were people here who still liked and trusted him, there were people who believed him. It would be alright.
Harry was just serving himself a piece of Shepherd's pie when Angelina Johnson approached, offering him a wide smile. Without skipping a beat, she told Harry that she'd been made the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and that tryouts for the new Keeper would be that very Sunday. She wanted the whole team to be there, including him.
"Are you sure you want me there?" he asked, scanning her face for any sign of distrust. "I might scare away potential recruits..."
"Rubbish," Angelina said, glaring at him. "Everyone on the team believes you. Besides, we wouldn't want a Keeper who believes the Daily Prophet. They're more likely to get hit by the Quaffle than catch it."
Harry laughed, feeling the tension in his chest ease. "Thanks, Angelina."
She smiled brightly at him, clearly understanding how much her words had meant to him. "Of course, Harry," she said. "Now, I'll see you on Sunday. Be prepared for some hard work. We've all had a year off, and we're going to be putting in long hours this year. Keep yourself healthy, Harry. I need you in top form."
With that, she headed back to her friends, dark hair glinting under the candlelight.
Harry watched her go, barely able to contain his excitement at the prospect of tryouts. Quidditch was by far the thing he'd missed the most about Hogwarts. It had been over a year since he'd last flown with the Gryffindor team, and he was more than ready to be back on the Pitch.
Quidditch was something that made him feel normal. When he flew, he could depend on his talent, not his name. He wasn't the "Boy Who Lived" or, as the Daily Prophet had started calling him, "The Boy Who Lied." Flying was the first thing he had ever felt that he was truly good at, the first thing that made him truly happy.
He couldn't wait for Sunday.
Much to Hermione's annoyance, Harry and Ron continued to discuss the upcoming tryouts throughout dinner, debating potential plays and likely match-ups. As they talked, the tables filled with desserts, sugary masterpieces covering every surface. Despite Ron's nervousness about making the Quidditch team, he managed to eat two large servings of sticky toffee pudding.
Harry was just finishing a slice of treacle tart when Dumbledore stood and walked to his podium, clearly ready to make his annual welcoming speech.
"Welcome, students, to yet another year at Hogwarts." Dumbledore looked down at the students, eyes twinkling. Harry tried to meet his gaze, but Dumbledore didn't once look his way. "I just want to give out a few reminders before you all head to your beds. First, the Forbidden Forest is, in fact, forbidden. It is not merely named that for our amusement. Second, Mr. Filch would like me to remind you that the full list of banned items can be found on his office door for anyone who wishes to check it. I believe it has surpassed 500 items this year."
Fred and George exchanged a victorious glance. Harry couldn't help but wonder how many of those items they had personally gotten banned.
"Finally, I wanted to introduce the new members of our staff. First, Professor Grubbly-Plank who will be filling in for Professor Hagrid while he is on a short sabbatical."
The students applauded politely as Professor Grubbly-Plank stood.
"Next, Dolores Umbridge who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Harry almost choked on the swig of pumpkin juice he had just taken. The woman who had just stood was none other than the woman who had sat beside Fudge at his hearing. She was even dressed in the same sickening shade of pink. Her eyes scanned the crowd, coming to rest on his face for just a moment, lips tightening with disgust as she looked at him.
Harry did not like Dolores Umbridge.
He watched in horror as she interrupted Dumbledore, giving a very enlightening and horribly tedious speech. Harry didn't need to listen for long to figure out what she was really saying: the Ministry would be interfering at Hogwarts this year.
When Umbridge finally finished speaking, the students breathed a collective sigh of relief. If her classes were anything like this, Harry thought, she might give Binns some competition for the title of most boring professor at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore dismissed them swiftly after Umbridge was finished, clearly sensing that the students were in no mood for further speeches. As Ron and Hermione began shepherding the new first years to Gryffindor Tower, Harry hung back, wanting to avoid the crowds as much as he could. Neville stayed back to wait with him.
At Harry's surprised look, Neville rolled his eyes, smiling kindly. "You don't even know the password, Harry. I do. Besides, you don't need to do this alone."
When they judged the Hall to be sufficiently cleared out, Harry and Neville made their way up to Gryffindor Tower. When they arrived at the Fat Lady, Neville happily gave the password. "Mimbulus Mibletonia."
Harry laughed. What were the chances that the password just happened to be the name of the very plant that Neville had brought with him on the train?
As they entered the Common Room together, Harry steeled himself. He could do this. He knew that he was telling the truth. Everyone else would eventually know it too.
To Harry's relief, he was able to make his way up to his dormitory without incident. Unfortunately, as soon as he entered the room, Seamus gave him a cold glare and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Dean, looking very apologetic, explained that Seamus believed the Daily Prophet and thought Harry was lying about Voldemort's return. "He actually thinks you're a bit mental as well. I tried to remind him that you're a good bloke, but he just won't listen."
"It's okay, Dean. Thanks for trying."
But it wasn't okay. Not really. A boy who had slept in the same room as him for four years, who had been a friend to him, thought he was an unbalanced liar.
Harry readied himself for bed as quickly as possible, trying to ignore the sting of Seamus' betrayal. He grabbed his Potions book and the locket before pulling his curtains shut.
He cast a Silencing Spell over his curtains, enjoying the pleasant feeling of the magic as it flowed down his arm. The last thing he needed was to wake the entire dorm with his nightmares. That probably wouldn't help him prove to Seamus that he was sane.
It was hours before Harry was able to fall asleep.
When he finally drifted off, he was haunted by images of dark hallways, accusing stares, and a door that he simply couldn't open.
...
Saturday morning dawned bright and clear: perfect Quidditch weather.
After a quick breakfast, Harry and Ron headed down to the Quidditch Pitch, brooms slung over their shoulders. Ron had asked for help preparing for Keeper tryouts, and Harry was more than happy to oblige.
Before they had even stepped foot on the Pitch, Harry mounted his Firebolt, kicking off from the ground, taking to the sky. The feeling of flight was even more exhilarating than he remembered it being. He couldn't help but let out a whoop of joy as he wove in and out of the goalposts, turning sharply into the wind.
Rising high into the air, he let himself hang for a moment, taking in the beauty of the Hogwarts grounds. Then, he turned his broom handle straight down into a steep dive, plummeting toward the earth.
Harry loved the adrenaline rush he got from dives like this. He was going so fast that any mistake on his part would result in a Harry-shaped crater in the grass. He didn't care, welcoming the exhilaration of risk.
He leaned into the dive, accelerating toward the ground, wind rushing in his ears. At the very last moment, he pulled his broom handle level, toes just brushing the grass.
He rose back into the air, grinning broadly.
"Oi, Harry! Stop showing off and come help me!" Ron called from the other end of the pitch.
Harry grinned even wider and sped back toward his best mate.
He began putting Ron through his paces with one of the practice Quaffles. Ron was really quite good once he warmed up a bit. After a while, Ron was saving nearly every Quaffle Harry threw at him.
Ron's long limbs were perfect for a Keeper, allowing him to block the goals with relative ease. He would be a great asset to the Gryffindor Team.
After about an hour, Fred and George joined them. Fred took over throwing Quaffles for Ron while George attempted to hit Bludgers at Harry, who managed to avoid every single one. George was an excellent Beater, but Harry was too small and too fast for him to hit.
After a while, George gave up, conjuring golf balls and throwing them all over the pitch for Harry to catch. He threw them faster and faster, forcing Harry to zoom around the Pitch as fast as his Firebolt would carry him. He was able to catch every single ball. The only close call came when he almost flew straight into Ron and ended up crashing into the goalpost instead. He wasn't too badly bruised, and he had still managed to catch the ball, so it turned out alright in the end.
It wasn't until they stopped for lunch that Harry noticed that they had an audience. Neville, Hermione, Luna, and three people Harry didn't know were sitting in the stands. All six joined them as they walked up to the castle, Neville introducing his friends as Susan Bones, Tracey Davis, and Blaise Zabini. Susan was a Hufflepuff and Blaise and Tracey were both in Slytherin.
To Harry's surprise, Ron was getting on quite well with the two Slytherins. Blaise was a huge Quidditch fan and they quickly got into a friendly debate about which teams would make it to the next World Cup: Ron arguing vehemently for the Chudley Cannons while Blaise explained all the reasons that would never happen.
After lunch, Harry joined Hermione in the library while Ron and Blaise headed off to play chess. Harry thought Ron would probably have a much better time playing with the Slytherin, who seemed fairly strategic, than he usually did playing with him. Harry was really quite terrible at chess.
While Hermione drew up study schedules, Harry started scouring the shelves for books on Potions. He was still desperately searching for a way to fix the Nosebleed Nougat.
He wanted to see the look on George's face when he told him that he'd found the solution. He didn't know why he cared so much, didn't know why George's smile made him so happy.
Suddenly, the answer hit him. He was an idiot. He had been looking in all the wrong places! He had been looking at rare ingredients when the answer was one of the most common ingredients. It was so simple that they had completely forgotten about it. The answer was Dittany! It was used in most healing potions, including the Blood-Replenishing Potion. If it was included in the recipe and modified with a time-release charm, it should be able to slow and eventually stop the bleeding.
Harry told Fred and George about his discovery at dinner. They were just as astounded by their own stupidity as he had been. Sometimes things really were that simple. Harry found that the look of admiration on George's face was more than worth his long afternoon in the Library.
Sunday, the day of tryouts, was another day of perfect Quidditch weather.
Harry didn't bother going down to breakfast. Instead, he headed straight to the Pitch. He knew Sirius and Remus would probably yell at him for not eating when he was just starting to look healthy again, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
Right now, Harry didn't feel much like eating. The Great Hall meant he would have to be around people who thought he was an unhinged liar. He didn't need that in his life right now.
Right now, he wanted to fly.
Swinging gracefully onto his Firebolt, he rocketed into the air. He relished the feeling of the air whipping around him as he flew faster and faster loops around the Pitch.
Feeling sufficiently warmed up, Harry began practicing his dives. Ever since he had seen Krum pull off the Wronski Feint, Harry had been wanting to try it.
He let his dives grow progressively faster and more reckless. He let himself go as high as he wanted. He let himself dive as fast as he wanted. He reveled in it.
It was after one particularly dangerous dive that he heard someone shouting for him. Looking toward the ground, he saw that it was George.
Harry landed and walked over to George, who for some reason looked very angry. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"I was flying?" Harry said, feeling very unsure. "I don't understand…"
"Flying?" George demanded. "That looked like attempted suicide to me. Can you please try not to kill yourself before classes even start?"
"I was fine, George!" Harry said. "I know how to fly!"
"It's not about that!" George said angrily. "IT'S ABOUT TAKING UNNECESSARY RISKS!"
George yelled the last part, prompting Harry to quickly take a few steps back from him, instincts kicking in. He hated it when people yelled at him, loud voices bringing back too many bad memories.
George sighed, running a hand through his red hair. "I'm sorry I yelled, Harry," he said. "You just scared me. That's all."
Harry nodded.
"Here," George said, extending the napkin he was holding. "I brought you some toast." When Harry didn't take it right away, George sighed again, eyes pleading. "Please, Harry," he said. "You need to eat. I don't want to have to tell Sirius that you got blown into the Whomping Willow."
Harry gave George a smile, finally taking the toast. While he ate, George told him about the next prank they had planned for Percy. Their scheme involved a live giraffe and several kilos of whipped cream. Harry thought it sounded brilliant.
The rest of the afternoon went wonderfully. Quidditch tryouts were a success. Ron had saved every Quaffle thrown at him and was now officially the Gryffindor Keeper. Harry was overjoyed for his friend.
Except for the fact that most of the school hated him, it had been a good start to the year. Classes were beginning tomorrow, and Harry thought things might just be okay.
He was wrong.