Truths, Secrets, and Lies
Disclaimer: Basically, the only thing that doesn't belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling is Lamya (and an assortment of spells you may see).
Summary: Over the course of his fifth year, Harry makes a discovery that does not seem possible. A new student will prove key to discover of the truth of Harry's past.
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Harry walked into the common room in search of Ron so Harry could return his book. However, Ron (and Hermione) seemed to be absent from the nearly empty common room. He tucked the book under his arm, and walked over to Ginny, who had just entered the room from her dormitory.
She stopped and looked at Harry as though he had suddenly morphed into Lord Voldemort. Without warning, her books fell to the floor with a clatter. The sudden noise, however, seemed to shake her from her stupor, and she greeted Harry – who had since slowed from a confident walk to a rather nervous shuffle – with a feigned smile.
"Er – Ginny? Are you okay?" Harry asked, his voice toeing the line between concern and unease.
Ginny emitted a strangled squeak, and nodded her head.
Inwardly, Harry shrugged, and presumed that Ginny was no longer angry, and was back to her usual self. "Right. Have you seen Ron? I found his book last night…"
After glancing from Harry's face to the book, and back again, Ginny replied, somewhat reassured, "He and Hermione went for a quick walk. Have you opened the book?"
Harry's brow furrowed and he took the book in his hands. "Well, no…" He started to vaguely fan through the pages. "It had the name 'Weasley' printed on the front, and I thought I saw Ron carrying around a book like this."
Quickly, Ginny broke in, "Oh! Yes! I remember that book. I'll give it to Ron – you go down to breakfast, I'll wait for him to get back from his walk…"
"Okay," Harry said as he handed the book to Ginny (who nearly pulled a few of Harry's fingers off as she yanked it from his grasp). Still a bit surprised at Ginny's behavior, Harry voiced rather guttural thanks and walked through the portrait hole to make his way to the Great Hall.
Unbeknownst to him, Ginny had at once succumbed to the weakness in her knees, and slid to the floor, clutching her book to her breast in utter relief.
*~*~*
Harry sat in the Great Hall engrossed in thought. Weighing heavily on his mind was his encounter with Professor Figg and Professor Dumbledore. He couldn't imagine a scenario that would lead to the necessity of such a secret meeting… Unless they were discussing matters so important that it was imperative that no one overhear them. But what issue could be so important? Voldemort? Of course; that was the obvious answer. Shadows of doubt, however, betrayed themselves to Harry. Having abandoned the thought of eating long ago, Harry stroked his jaw line contemplatively. Really, he couldn't assume the conversation he had overheard was about Lord Voldemort – clearly, he had entered in the middle of the exchange. Perhaps the answer to his question lay with the giantess, Borzor. Whatever the discussion had been about, it concerned Harry, and he was determined to discover what he had heard.
His thoughts then turned to Ginny. She had been acting strangely since Lamya's arrival. As far as he could remember, she hadn't been in such a rotten mood at the Burrow. Of course, Harry was well aware that Ginny had had a crush on him since Harry met the Weasleys. Surely she couldn't be jealous? To Harry's memory, Ginny had never been jealous. But, then, he thought to himself, how would I know? I'm never there for her. Feeling significantly worse than he had before breakfast, Harry looked around for his two friends.
"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked himself exasperatedly. In a scant moment's time, Defense Against the Dark Arts was due to start, and Harry decided he would hope Ron and Hermione arrived on their own accord. Harry gathered his books, and traveled the halls to the familiar Defense Against the Dark Arts room, hoping he'd find Ron and Hermione on the way.
*~*~*
Harry entered Defense Against the Dark Arts without having seen Ron or Hermione. Had he not been so preoccupied, Harry would have smiled at the thought of what his two best friends were up to. A cool blast of air ruffled Harry's hair when he crossed the threshold of the large stone room. Professor Figg stood behind her desk, nervously shuffling papers.
"Good morning, Harry," She said when she paused momentarily to glance at Harry.
Harry averted his eyes guiltily as he recalled eavesdropping on Professors Dumbledore and Figg. However, he answered as normally as possible and tried to create conversation, "Hello… What are we studying today?"
Serenely, Professor Figg smiled, "Oh, it's going to be a wonderful lesson – we're going to learn about the most fascinating creature! But I'm afraid you're going to have to wait to discover which creature I'm going to expose you to along with everyone else."
Nodding, Harry conceded, "All right." Suddenly, an idea struck Harry; "Professor, I need to ask you about something – " However, when a throng of students abruptly and vociferously entered the classroom, Harry withdrew the question. "Never mind," he murmured.
Hermione sat next to Harry, rosy-cheeked and smiling. "I thought we were going to be late! I hope you know I've never been late for a class, Mister Weasley," she said. Despite her seemingly harsh words, however, she was positively glowing as though she couldn't be happier that she was nearly late.
"Well, Miss Granger," Ron countered teasingly, "I believe it was you whom insisted that we took a walk around the lake before you helped me with my Transfiguration homework."
While Hermione blushed and became engrossed in her Defense Against the Dark Arts book, Ron shuddered violently. "Oi! Do you ever get that feeling on the back of your neck – that prickling?"
Wordlessly, Harry nodded.
"It's been cursing me all morning…" Whether Ron had intended to say anything further, is undeterminable, for, at this moment, Professor Figg moved to stand before the class.
"Ah – yes. Welcome to my Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As I understand, since the beginning of the year you've merely been covering material from past years. Oh, dear!" At this moment, the papers she had been clutching spilled from Professor Figg's hands. To Harry's dismay, several students laughed.
"Come on – give her a chance," Harry muttered shortly at Ron, who had been among the number to snicker. Harry realized that he hadn't told Ron and Hermione that this was the same woman with whom Harry had lodged part of the summer. After giving him a quizzical look, Ron abstained from mocking the professor any longer.
Blushing furiously, Professor Figg resumed her position in front of the class. "Pardon that… display," she said, fumbling for words. However, she quickly seemed to lose her tense manner as she discussed the upcoming lesson. "I have in my possession one of the most feared creatures of the Middle East – " upon making this announcement, many students who doubted Professor Figg's capability allowed their blatant fear to show on their faces. "Don't worry – we won't deal with it until next lesson. It is a creature that is omnipresent. It is a creature that is believed to cause much of the pain and anguish suffered by humans as well as many accidents for which no person can be blamed. Even Muggles – who are not as attuned to creatures possessed with Dark Magic – acknowledge its presence. In the Qur'an, the holy book of Muggles who follow the Muslim religion, there is noted a class of creatures called 'Jinn.'" She paused as though her statement should have a profound affect on the students. Rather than become irritated, she prompted the students, "Perhaps you would be more familiar with the Anglicized version of 'genie.'"
Finally, Professor Figg noticed the recognition for which she had been hoping.
"Yeah! I know what a genie is," Dean Thomas said proudly. "They grant people three wishes and live in lamps!" Self-satisfied with himself, Dean nodded firmly at Hermione, convinced that he had shown her up at long last. In her own right, Hermione looked unconvinced.
"But, professor, I've always thought genies to have good magic," she said, contradicting Dean.
"Ah, and this is where a difference in culture leads to differences in interpretation. Indeed, the version of genies you lot are familiar with is quite a bit different than the Middle East's Jinn. For one thing, Dean, I'm sorry to say, your genies don't exist," sadly, Dean accepted being wrong, but, nevertheless, seemed interested in the lesson. Quickly, Professor Figg continued, "They are merely a fabrication created by wistful men and women who were down on their luck. However, Jinn flourish in the hot, desert climate of the Middle East."
Harry chanced a glance at Hermione, and she was furiously copying notes, enraptured. With a small smile, Harry decided that a teacher had finally hit upon a topic with which Hermione wasn't familiar.
Professor Figg clasped her hands together and asked, smiling, of the class, "Does anyone know any further information about Jinn?"
The Gryffindors' heads spun as they turned to look for any sign of a hand in the air.
"Yes, dear; what's your name?"
"Parvati Patil, professor."
"Ah, thank you. What do you know of Jinn?"
"Well…" Parvati stuttered – she wasn't one to volunteer information outside Divination. "My mum and dad have told me stories about Jinn. For instance, they can change shape at will. In communities conscious of the Jinn, the people ask the blessings of the Jinn before disposing or gathering water for fear the spirits will seek revenge on anyone who disturbs the Jinn, who make their homes in baths, lakes, and wells."
"Very well put, Parvati," Professor Figg commended. "As Miss Patil explained, Jinn are shape-shifters. However, in their original form, a Jinni is made from smokeless fire – making it invisible and, sometimes, a mortal danger." Once more, the students exchanged terrified glances. Professor Figg, apparently oblivious to the students' fear, continued, "In fact, some Jinn, who usually lurk around cemeteries and feed on human flesh, may use their shape-shifting abilities to lure a traveler into losing his or her way under the guise of another traveler. Upon confusing the human, the Jinni will feast upon his or her flesh." Having made this statement, Professor Figg paused to allow the class to take in the information. Hermione raised her hand.
"Do you have a question – " she looked at her list of names " – Miss Granger?"
"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered. "Do all Jinn contain Dark Magic? It seems as though humans would have had some good experiences with Jinn if they created 'genies'."
"Wonderful question, Hermione," Professor Figg said, impressed. "You've brought me to my next point, which is the fact that there are many different kinds of Jinn. There are five different classes of the loosely used term 'Jinn'. These classes include, beginning with the weakest, Jann, Jinn, Sheytans, Ifrits, and, most powerfully, Marids. Ifrits – which are all but extinct now – plagued the ancient Egyptians for hundreds of years. These demonic creatures were the cause of nearly every violent death in the time of the Egyptians." The students in the classroom exchanged worried glances. Yet again, Hermione's hand shot into the air.
"But, professor, you really didn't answer my question – " she interjected hurriedly.
"Don't worry, Miss Granger, I was building to it. I thought you might enjoy some a bit of background material."
Hermione flushed, "Sorry, Professor Figg."
Professor Figg dismissed the apology with the wave of a hand. "An apology isn't necessary – I find your thirst for knowledge refreshing. As I was saying, there are, indeed, many classes of Jinn, including Jinn with White, or Good, Magic. Though they can, technically, be referred to as Jinn as well, these creatures with White Magic are typically called 'Piris'. Piris are also shape-shifters and possess the ability to be invisible. In their truest form, however, Piris are usually vaguely visible.
"Protection against Jinn is very primitive due to the immensely ancient magic present in their systems. However, common forms of protection Muggles use are quite adequate for witches and wizards to use as well. These protections include salt; a group of squares called, 'seven magical seals;' or anything made of steel or iron. Witches and wizards traveling to the Middle East are usually advised to carry some form of iron or steel. There is also a lengthy chant one can utter whilst pointing one's wand at a Jinni. It is, 'Bismilahirahmanirahim'." Following Professor Figg's final statement, tentatively, Seamus raised his hand.
"Yes…"
"Seamus Finnigan. I was wondering how we could spot a Jinni?"
"Ah, yes! Jinn are extremely difficult to distinguish because of the fact that humans are only visually aware of them when they have assumed the form of a human. It is rare that a Jinni will take the shape of a human, or animal, because when they do, the laws of Earth govern their lives, and they become susceptible to dangers that humans and animals are normally faced with. If a Jinni, somehow, suffered a fatal wound, because of the smokeless fire that flows in its veins, it would combust. The flames would engulf it and reduce the Jinni in the form of a human to little more than ashes, and hide the existence of the masquerading Jinni. However, to differentiate Jinni from a human, you need only look at its eyes and fingers. The eyes of a Jinni will be a brilliant shade of violet flecked with gold, and its fingers will be abnormally long. Viewing these physical traits, however, is difficult because Jinn in their human form wear the traditional garb of the Middle East. For example, long, dark robes usually conceal their disfigured fingers, and hoods veil their eyes."
The rest of the class period passed in a flurry of questions. Just before she dismissed the class, Professor Figg made the announcement, "As I said at the beginning of class, I have in my possession a Jinni. I ask that you practice the 'Bismilahirahmanirahim' chant. Also, please write an essay, on Jinn, that is three feet long. If you include in your essay the one defense I have excluded from my lesson, I will award Gryffindor House five points for each person who discovers it. Please come to class with the chant memorized and your essay written. You may go," she bade farewell with a final smile.
Ron, who had been quite enthusiastic throughout the class now sat at his desk with his shoulders slumped, and whispered frantically, "Three feet of parchment! She's mad… I think she and Professor McGonagall have make a pact to give us an impossible amount of homework."
"Ron," Hermione chided, "We have to know about this! What if it comes up on our O.W.L.s? Do you want to be the only fifth year who doesn't know the 'Bismilahirahmanirahim' chant?"
"No, but I don't know the Bismarckawhodawhatsit chant!"
Exasperatedly, Hermione rolled her eyes and hissed, "Bismilahirahmanirahim! Honestly, didn't you listen? You'd better practice extra hard before next class."
Quietly, Harry excused himself, "You two go along… I'm going to stay after class a bit." He had been building confidence throughout the whole class period to ask the question he had meant to ask before the students had filed into the room prior to the beginning of class.
Ron and Hermione exited the classroom, still bickering half-heartedly.
"Hello, Harry," she smiled. "Can I help you with anything?"
"I just…" words failed him. "Erm… Does our essay only have to be about Jinn, or may we include Piris as well?"
"Yes, of course, that's fine."
"Okay." Looking somewhat unfulfilled, Harry took his leave from the classroom, giving Professor Figg a small wave in goodbye.
*~*~*
The remaining days in the school week passed in a flurry of homework. Harry had been reading about Jinn every night in the library, and nearly forgot about Quidditch tryouts, which would be held Friday.
"Ron, are you okay? You look slightly ill," Harry reported Thursday night when Ron entered the common room with a glazed look on his face.
"Are you kidding me? I have a test in Potions and Quidditch tryouts on the same day!" Ron responded, his voice cracking. He had been on edge the past couple of days. Apparently, Hermione's constant badgering about the importance of the O.W.L.s were getting to him, and he was folding under pressure. To make matters worse, Harry was surprised to see Ron suddenly duck his head so his forehead smashed into his table.
"Aw, does little Ronniekins not like to have his hair ruffled?" Came the teasing voice of George Weasley.
"Or does he just enjoy crushing his nose into the wooden table?" Fred echoed.
"That was not funny!" Ron insisted, massaging his now-reddened forehead.
The twins gave each other identical mischievous grins, "We beg to differ…" Fred began.
"But we digress – " George said, and Fred agreed with a nod " – As much as we'd love to argue the fine art of humor with you, dear brother, we have a bit of unfortunate news to give you two."
Both Harry and Ron's faces turned expectantly towards the twins.
"Due to – er – unfortunate circumstances we could not avoid – " Fred began, but was cut of by Ginny, who was clutching a small stack of books to her chest, when she piped up as she was passing the group on her way to her dormitory.
"Detention!" She scoffed.
"Listen," George retorted, "We found a perfectly good bag of dung bombs in the common room – I mean, really, what are the odds of that? – We honestly couldn't pass up the opportunity!"
"Ha – found!" Ginny exclaimed. "I saw you pilfer that bag of dung bombs from Alvin Nash, the first year!"
George sniffed, "Honestly, if he had used those dung bombs, it would have been a waste of a detention! Besides, anything in the common room is completely fair game after six o'clock!"
"REALLY," Fred interrupted, casting a reproachful glance at George, "We'd like to spare you all the boring details, so, to make a long story short we're going to miss tryouts tomorrow, Ron."
Visibly, Ron and Harry both relaxed.
"So that means we're going to miss judging as well, mate," George said to Harry. "You, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie will have to do that without us. We really are sorry, but you just wouldn't believe the opportunity we had! We were…"
"Boring details, George."
"Ah, yeah," George said.
"Anyway," Fred began, once again addressing Harry and Ron, "We're going to work with Lee Jordan, so he can commentate the tryouts!"
"Boring details, Fred," George said, elbowing Fred's arm. Fred, however, merely rolled his eyes. George then continued, "Anyway, we'd better get to bed. Filch is going to have us clean the Owlry starting at four in the afternoon! It's going to take all night…" In unison, the twins groaned.
"G'night," Harry and Ron called to the retreating boys' backs.
An awkward silence settled over the remaining students in the common room: Harry, Ron, and Ginny.
"Well – um – I guess I should go too," Ginny said, her voice significantly softer than it had been when she was debating with George.
"Goodnight, Ginny," Ron called nonchalantly.
"Bye," Harry said as he watched her bustle quickly to the spiral staircase.
*~*~*
"So, Harry, how're you doing?" Ron asked, his face as white as a sheet as he gripped is broom tightly.
"Well, I'm okay… but I'm not trying out for the Quidditch team," Harry said, looking anxiously at his friend.
"Oh yeah!" Ron said, giving a strangely forced laugh. Suddenly, the red-haired Weasley turned on his heel, and began striding away from the Quidditch pitch, mumbling to himself. It was all Harry could do to drag him back.
"C'mon, Ron, you'll be fine – it will be just like playing at the Burrow."
"Yeah. It will be exactly the same. Except for the fact that I am trying out for the house Quidditch team so I can play in front of a thousand students with people who aren't my brothers…" Ron, suddenly looking ill, once again made to turn towards the castle. Harry, however, was quicker. He wrenched Ron's arm so he'd keep walking.
"Aw, you make it sound so much worse than it is!" Came the voice of none other than Fred Weasley as he jovially clapped Ron on the back.
Now with a stricken, stunned look on his face to accompany his pallor, Ron gaped at his twin brothers. "How did you escape Filch?"
"Well, thanks to a brilliant idea – " George began.
"And a dazzling performance – " Fred augmented.
"We were able to flee the clutches of Filch."
"We paid off a couple of third year look-alikes to be us for a couple of hours so we could come to watch our brother try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team!" At the word 'Quidditch,' Ron's knees suddenly weakened. Thinking to take Ron's mind off the tryouts for a moment, George added to Fred's explanation.
"To ensure that Filch won't think to check on 'us,' we've created a smidge of a distraction for him to attend to."
Intrigued, Harry raised an eyebrow, "Should I even ask what…"
"No, you really shouldn't. We might have to kill you," Fred said, winking at Harry. "Eh, if you really want to know, it had to do with Peeves, Tail Taffy, and dung bombs. The overall execution was quite effective, but it won't make for a happy Filch," Fred shuddered.
"If we get caught, you have no idea how many hours of detention we're going to serve for you, Ron," George said, marveling. "I reckon it would be a record. Perhaps we should confess, Fred. I bet we'd get a trophy to immortalize ourselves forever at Hogwarts!"
"Naw," Fred said, dismissing the idea. "I think we could come up with something better than that. What do you think, Ron? Should we try for an award for most hours of detention served?"
Ron, however, was in no state to comment. His eyes were becoming glassy, and his movements perfunctory.
"I've never seen him this nervous," Harry said.
"Hopefully he'll get over it," George said, snapping his fingers in front of Ron's eyes. Shrugging, he turned Ron over to Fred. "What can you do for him, Fred?" For a moment, Fred remained silent as he contemplated the situation. His face suddenly illuminated with an idea.
"Ah! Hey, George, did you see that picture in Witch Weekly of Viktor Krum snogging Hermione?"
For a fleeting moment, a look of befuddlement overcame George's face. Quickly, however, he caught on, "Oh yeah, I hung the pull-out poster above my bed. Hermione really is a natural in front of the camera…"
As they'd hoped, Ron arose from his stupor. "What are you talking about? Snogging? Krum? HERMIONE?"
"Yep, that's our Ronnie," Fred said. "Always one to be a bit hyper-sensitive about his woman."
Resentfully, Ron succumbed to the reddening of his cheeks, and sullenly crossed his arms over his broomstick. However, he no longer retained the comatose look he'd had since leaving the castle, and he didn't seem quite as nervous. Despite the fact he was aware of everything happening around him, Ron was now ignoring his brothers on his own accord.
After a couple of minutes of walking in silence, Harry, Ron, Fred, and George arrived at the Quidditch pitch.
"Ah, Mister Weasley," came the voice of Madam Hooch, who was overseeing all Quidditch tryouts as an added measure of security, "I'm glad you've decided to tryout for the Gryffindor team. I'm sure you'll fulfill the Weasley legacy of exceptional Quidditch players! Now, if you'll join your fellow housemates, we'll begin the tryouts shortly." She steered Ron in the direction of a small, huddling group of Gryffindors waiting nervously on the field.
"Now, you two," she said, turning sternly to Fred and George, "I overheard Filch discussing his detention plans for you two with Mrs. Norris. He seemed positively gleeful…" she trailed off. "Anyway, should I inquire as to why you two are here rather than the castle?"
"No, you really shouldn't," Fred muttered in a voice too soft for anyone but Harry and George to hear. George, however, shot Fred a critical stare, and explained the reason for their presence.
"Yeah, we do have detention, but Filch decided to push it back a couple of hours so we could attend the Quidditch tryouts and watch our dear brother's performance."
"Oh! Yes, he's quite the understanding fellow, Filch is," Fred said solemnly. "After our numerous engagements, we've developed a relatively sound relationship with the man." Harry felt the twins were pushing their luck to trick Madam Hooch, but, nevertheless, he remained silent as he waited for the jurisdiction Madam Hooch would deliver.
Skeptically, Madam Hooch stared alternately between Fred and George, who were, miraculously, keeping their composure. Heavily, she sighed and said, "All right, but if I get just one complaint from Filch – " however, any remaining words Madam Hooch wished to share with the twins were wasted as they walked briskly to Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, who were talking and giggling near the stands. "Those two…" Madam Hooch said to no one in particular as she shook her head. "Harry, please take these – " she handed him a small stack of papers " – and give some to Fred and George. The girls already have their papers. You'll see a line to put the person's name who is trying out for the team, as well as boxes in which you can write the points you feel should be given to each student. I believe that's everything, so, after I give a few instructions to the other students we'll begin." With that, Harry and Madam Hooch parted ways, Harry walking to his fellow judges, and Madam Hooch striding quickly to the participants.
"Here. Madam Hooch wanted me to give you two these," Harry said, handing a stack of papers each to Fred and George. He then turned to where Ron and the other Gryffindors were standing to see a student begin to walk purposefully towards the judges.
"I'm Melvin Cummings. I'd like to try out as a reserve chaser."
Harry looked questioningly at his fellow teammates, and said, "Are we holding tryouts for reserves?"
Katie Bell spoke, "Yes – after all, we," she gestured to her fellow chasers and beaters, "Will be leaving Hogwarts after this year… We should start training our future team, don't you think?"
Nodding, Harry answered silently.
"Okay, Melvin," Angelina Johnson called, "Katie and Alicia will fly with you, and you will have twenty chances to get the Quaffle passed the Keeper."
"Speaking of which," Alicia said, building on Angelina's statement, "We'll need a Keeper to tryout with Melvin. However, this will not be your actual tryout. Who'd like to try?" The silence that settled over the Quidditch pitch was deafening. Harry could almost hear the silent prayers of the throng of Gryffindors to be spared from this portion of the tryout.
"Ronald Weasley," George coughed.
Smiling, Alicia said, "Ron, would you like a shot? Keep in mind, this isn't your actual tryout, so any mistakes will be overlooked, and it might help calm your nerves."
Resignedly, Ron trudged forward. "Yeah, all right."
"Here we go!" Katie said as she and Alicia leapt onto their broomsticks. Melvin and Ron followed suit.
It was evident from the moment the group of four ascended the ground that Ron and Melvin were naturals. Melvin worked with Alicia and Katie to create intricate, weaving patterns in the sky as they executed perfect plays. The Quaffle flew between the three chasers so quickly that it appeared to not even touch their fingertips – it was little more than a red blur accompanied by three figures flashing through the sky. After several moments of passing the Quaffle, Melvin made his first attempt to make a goal. After Harry's eyes had completely lost track of the Quaffle, he saw a red haze fly swiftly to the golden hoops Ron was so vigilantly guarding. Expecting the worst, Harry closed his eyes. However, the uproar that ensued from Fred and George was enough to encourage Harry to open his eyes. The vision that met Harry's eyes was that of a triumphant Ron holding the Quaffle. At the end of Melvin's tryout, he had managed only to make three goals out of twenty. Ron landed with a soft thud, shooting a confident smile to Harry, Fred, and George.
The rest of the tryouts passed as Gryffindors with varying amounts of enthusiasm and talent tried out as chasers, keepers, and beaters. The last person to try out was Ron. Fearlessly, he faced Melvin, Alicia, and Katie.
"And here's the youngest Weasley brother," came the voice of none other than Lee Jordan. His voice was magically magnified as he commentated Ron's tryout.
Harry's eyes widened as he marveled that the twins succeeded.
His amazement must have shown on his face, for George said, "Yep, I swiped Filch's key last night when he was – er – awarding us detention."
"We devised the plan last night with Lee," Fred explained.
"What a spectacular display by young Ronald! If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was Oliver Wood, reincarnated… or just dragged back to suffer one more year at Hogwarts. He – uh-oh…" Lee muttered an expletive that caused an already-infuriated Madam Hooch to roar so loudly that from where they stood, Harry, Fred, and George could hear.
"Run, Lee, RUN!" Fred shouted to his fleeing friend.
"If he gets caught we'll be in trouble with Filch and Madam Hooch," George said, for Harry's benefit. "Although," he stated, addressing Fred, "If you wanted him to go unpunished – and not squeal on us – then perhaps you shouldn't have screamed his name, Fred!"
Harry tried to ignore the twins as bickering ensued. He tried to concentrate, instead, on Ron, who was indeed demonstrating his excellent Keeper abilities. As before, and despite the major distraction, few Quaffles passed Ron's domain. This time, he stopped nineteen of twenty passes, astounding the whole of the team as well as the people trying out for positions on the team.
"Well done, Ron!" Fred and George called in unison as their brother landed, smiling sheepishly, on the grassy field.
"It wasn't that great…" He said abashedly.
"Are you kidding? I don't think Oliver Wood himself stopped that many passes when he tried out for Keeper!" Fred said.
"Ron! You were wonderful!" came Hermione's feminine voice as she rushed onto the field. Ron blushed furiously as he tried to accept the compliment.
"Thanks…"
Angelina now took matters into her hands. "We'd like to thank everyone for trying out! You all did wonderfully! We'll have results posted tomorrow morning in the common room before breakfast. Then, Alicia, Katie or myself will inform the new Keeper and reserves when practice will begin as well as when we will hold the election of a team captain." Following her statement, the Gryffindors walked back to the castle together, smiling in relief.
*~*~*
After Harry and his fellow Gryffindors had eaten dinner, Harry told Ron and Hermione that he was going to the library to research Jinn ("Again?!" Ron had asked exasperatedly). However, in his heart, Harry knew he was telling his friends a lie. Harry's footfalls reverberated off the walls as he trod the passages he knew led to the mysterious cavern with which he had had a most mysterious encounter. He paused momentarily as he came to a fork in a corridor that was unfamiliar to him. Mentally, he was reviewing the midnight walk. All he could remember, however, was leaving Gryffindor tower and the strange blue cloud or glimmer that he had encountered outside the cavern's opening. A sudden voice shattered his frantically gathered memories.
"Hey! Harry…" Came the voice of Lamya Meda. Harry heard a barely-audible word mumbled. "'Ow is it zat you chanced upon this corridor?" The question was innocent enough, but Harry felt himself flush as he contrived an alibi.
"I was just… Going to the library – " at this, he looked around the passage " – but I got a bit lost. I was just going to read up a bit more on Professor Figg's Jinn."
Lamya's face brightened. "Ah! Zat is wonderful! I could use some 'elp on my research. Do you mind if I go with you to ze library?"
Though he was desperately wishing he would shout 'no,' Harry agreed to her request with a nod of his head. He, therefore, had no choice but turn on his heel, and accompany Lamya to the library.
To Be Continued…
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the D.A.D.A. class… Jinn (as you may have assumed) are actually creatures in the Qur'an. I researched them a bit, but put my own spin on the creatures. Anyway, I found the idea of Jinn to be fascinating, and my only hope for this chapter was that I didn't bore everyone to death! Also, I'm aware that this isn't the best place to end the chapter, but the next scene will be rather lengthy, so I wanted to include it in the next chapter. Thanks for reading! I'd appreciate any reviews!
'Thanks' To:
WhetherRose: I would like everyone to join me in welcoming WhetherRose back to fanfiction.net as an author! I was so happy to see that you'd updated (surely that means school hasn't been quite so awful). Also, I want everyone to know that Rose was exactly right in her speculations – I simply loved reading that review… Clues just aren't the same when nobody catches them ;). You've also inspired me. Since you're so hung up on the diary, I'm going to make it play a more pivotal role in the story (Hmm. Perhaps that's not the correct wording. I'm not sure inanimate objects can actually have 'roles.' Ah, well.). Actually, it might make the story more interesting… Oh, and thank you for wishing me luck with both my ACTs and my speech – my speech went extremely well, and I think my ACTs went pretty well [for not studying] as well. Thanks yet again for all of the lovely reviews and encouragement!
T.H: First and foremost, I feel I should thank you for your reviews (I suppose that is what this is for…), but, also, thank you for posting a new chapter! It was wonderful (as usual :) ). I really appreciate that you *sort of* waited for me (I know you were tweaking. Perhaps I should thank you for tweaking your chapter!). It's kind of nice to know there aren't ten chapters looming over me any longer! Anyway, a few comments about your latest review for this story (if you even remember…). I hate to keep you waiting on the glimmers, but it will come with time. Oi! I can't wait to write about them… You noticed something that is of significance, too. The person running on the grounds is connected with the secret passage, but their relationship isn't as close as you might think (It's difficult to make this ambiguous and explain it at the same time… Sorry if that didn't help at all!). Thanks again for the reviews!
Hollie: *Sheepishly* I'm extremely sorry it took me so long to review your newest chapter (but, you might notice that I reviewed it before I finished my chapter. Surely that will win me brownie points…). As I said, when I sat to read your chapter, I had a brilliant idea, and wrote the final chapter of this story. Oh no! I'm being quite evil… I *still* haven't told you what glimmers are! I hope you won't go too insane (though, a little insanity makes life a bit more interesting, don't you think?). Also, that secret passage is top secret, but I think the Marauders could have discovered it if they had shown a bit more initiative ;). Oh, and one more thing. You commented on 'Flappable' being a funny name… I thought it was too: I ran across that word when I was flipping through the dictionary during English class, and thought it would be funny to use as a teacher's name. So, when I needed a teacher, voila, I had a name! Thanks for the reviews!
Sara Minks: That is awesome that you're interested in Les Miz as well (and T.H is… maybe we should work to convince everyone to read the book – or see the musical as the case may be!). I'm assuming that you and T.H are reading the novel. How do you [meant to be directed to both Sara and T.H] like the book so far? I love it! I can't wait to finish it and write a fanfiction…
Bonita Knows All: You're slacking off, sis. You didn't read chapter six. And you haven't started writing a new chapter. Just what am I going to do with you? Oh! *Blushes* Maybe I should tell you that I've updated. Silly me.
Roary14: I just wanted to tell you that I *am* planning to read your story (if you read this chapter), but I haven't had time due to inspiration striking at inconvenient times, play practice, practice for tryouts for a choir (which I made! Sorry, I just had to share my euphoric mood with everyone – the first two years I tried out I didn't make it. There were nearly 200 sopranos who tried out, and I was among the 35 to get in the choir *jumps in prolonged joy*. Okay, I'll be quiet now).
Oceansun: I wanted to welcome you back to my stories (even though you are reading Tom Riddle, and this review is kind of futile :) )! Thanks for telling me that you've updated… It had been ages since I checked your story – sorry! Also, I believe you asked if I live in Kansas. *Sighs sadly*. I prefer to call it the cultural wasteland of the country (eh, I suppose it's not that bad), but yes. I believe you met my sister at Girl Scout Camp (maybe… I can't remember for sure if that's where it was – her name is Erin…).
Also, Thanks To: Lauren Graham and Lauren (perhaps I should thank myself as well so there will be three Laurens…) for leaving reviews!
Thanks again, to everyone who has left a review! I feel so fortunate to have such wonderful reviewers!