Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling, except for the few I've invented.
Author's note: I know, this part is months late. My excuses are many and mostly highly unlikely - let's just say it's been a very eventful summer. But I have written loads (of this story and another one) - it's just finding the time to tidy them up and post them. Hopefully part 13 should be along in days, not months! Everyone's forgotten the story by now, I expect - re-reading the earlier chapters might be useful.
Summary: The Gryffindor Quidditch team chooses a new Keeper, Harry learns some startling new information from Neville, and Remus visits Hogwarts and gets a shock…
* * * * *
Part 12
* * * * *
At the Gryffindor table during dinner that evening most of the conversation was concerned with speculation about the new Quidditch Keeper, or descriptions of Fleur's defeat of Malfoy in the Potions lesson. Colin Creevey was heard to say wistfully that he hoped Fleur and not Snape would still be teaching Potions when he and the other fourth-years had their lesson next day.
Professor Snape, Harry noticed, was absent from the Staff table at dinner, and so was Professor Dumbledore. At the end of the meal, Professor McGonagall stood up and made an announcement.
"I have a message from Mr. Filch," she said, glaring around at the students over her square spectacles. "Mr. Filch is very upset. His cat, Mrs. Norris, appears to have been attacked by an unknown cat last night. Fortunately, she was not seriously hurt."
With a look, Professor McGonagall quelled the whispers of "Shame," which could be heard from certain students, and continued:
"Mr. Filch would like me to tell you that if he discovers the owner of the cat in question…well, let's just say he won't be very happy with them. Will all the students who own cats please try to ensure that their animals are kept under control at all times - "
Harry avoided catching Ron's eye, knowing he would not be able to keep himself from laughing if he did. Hermione was trying to look severe, but Harry noticed her lips twitching as she glanced down at her plate, and she would not look at him, or Ron either.
Wondering when Blackie's eagerness to defend him would next come in useful, Harry looked away along the table and saw Fred Weasley signalling at him.
"See you in an hour, right, Harry?" Fred called to him.
Harry remembered his new Captain's duties. "Yeah - we'll meet in the changing rooms," he said.
Harry had always loved playing Quidditch, even when Oliver Wood had made the team practise in the freezing cold at some unearthly hour of the morning. He was longing to get back to his favourite sport, especially after the cancellation of the inter-House competition last year, but there was a small knot of apprehension in his stomach as he reached his dormitory to change his shoes and collect his Firebolt. He had never actually been in charge of the team before. He only hoped he would be up to the job. At least, he thought, Professor McGonagall was coming to the Keeper trials this evening - and the whole team was going to help to make the selection. It would not all be his responsibility.
When he had finished tying his shoes, Harry looked across the dormitory towards Ron, who was sitting on his bed polishing his old broom, unusually silent. So much had happened in the last couple of days that Harry had not really had a chance to talk to his friend about Ron's decision to try out for the position of Keeper. He felt guiltily that perhaps he should have offered to fit in a few practice sessions with Ron before now.
Ron looked up suddenly, and grinned as he saw Harry's worried expression. "What's up? Worried your team won't do what you tell them? If Fred or George give you any trouble, just threaten to set Mum on them."
Harry grinned back, relieved. "Yeah, I'll do that. Good luck at the trials, Ron."
Ron shrugged, and looked slightly embarrassed. "I thought I might as well try out, just for a laugh. I probably won't get on the team. I expect McGonagall would have a fit at the idea of three Weasleys playing for Gryffindor at the same time."
"Don't be daft - you're a really good player," Harry told him firmly, as they made their way down the stairs, broomsticks in their hands.
* * * * *
The stands around the Quidditch pitch were far from full, but there was quite a lot of interest in the Gryffindor trials. At least a quarter of Gryffindor House had come to watch their team in action for the first time that season, and there were a few students from the other houses who had come along, either to check out the opposition or just because they loved Quidditch.
Harry found the rest of the team in the changing-rooms, laughing at Fred's story of the havoc one of the twins' trick wands had caused in a Charms lesson that afternoon. Whatever the wand had done to Professor Flitwick, all the seventh year Gryffindors seemed to think it had been worth the loss of five points from Gryffindor.
Harry had just finished buckling on his kneepads when Professor McGonagall came into the changing-rooms. "I'm glad to see you are all punctual," she said briskly. "Madam Hooch is just taking the names of the students who want to be tried for Keeper. How did you intend to test them, Potter?"
She had swivelled quickly round to fire the question at Harry, and he flinched slightly as she fixed him with her gaze.
"Um." Harry pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, squared his shoulders and got a grip on his thoughts. "If they take turns in goal, the Chasers can try scoring against them. Then, after that, Fred and George could bash a few Bludgers about as well to make it more difficult."
"Very well," said Professor McGonagall. I will be waiting for you outside." She swept out, and the Gryffindor team looked at one another for a moment.
"Right," said Fred. "Shall we get on with it then?"
Madam Hooch had collected together the five would-be Keepers, fitted them out with spare elbow and kneepads, and lined them up in alphabetical order. Ron was the last in the line, and the tallest.
As always, Harry felt his anxieties disappear as he mounted his Firebolt and zoomed up into the sky. While Professor McGonagall was explaining the procedure to the hopeful Keepers, Harry took a few moments to soar and dip from one set of goalposts to the other, reminding himself how smooth in acceleration his Firebolt was, and how responsive it was to each tiny change in steering. As he flew past he saw Hermione sitting in the stands with Neville, Ginny, and several of Ginny's fourth-year friends, including Colin Creevey.
The first Keeper to be tried out was a burly sixth-year, Simon Ellerby, whose shoulders were almost as wide as Goyle's. He seemed an impressive obstacle blocking the path to the goalposts as he faced Alicia, Angelina and Katie, but Harry wondered if he might not be too heavy to manoeuvre quickly. Harry watched as the three Chasers threw the Quaffle to each other, before Angelina caught it and looped swiftly above Ellerby's head to aim at the nearest golden hoop. She had scored and retrieved the Quaffle for another try before Ellerby had completed his turn. After five minutes, Ellerby had saved ten shots but let in another ten. He had worked hard, but had not always moved quickly enough to get into position. Harry was pleased to see that his Chasers were working as smoothly together as if they had not had a year's break from competitive play.
When Madam Hooch blew her whistle Ellerby, looking rather disappointed, flew down to the ground, and his place was taken by Natalie McDonald, a small, round-faced second-year girl with bobbed brown hair. She soon proved to be quick, and never took her eye from the Quaffle as the Chasers passed and shot, but once or twice her arms were just not long enough to reach out and save a goal. Watching her, Harry thought that in a year or two, when she had grown a bit, she might be an excellent player. The Chasers only scored four goals against her.
A curly-haired fourth-year boy, Tertius Peasegood, followed Natalie. Harry saw Ginny, Colin, and the other fourth-year Gryffindors, joining in the cheer of encouragement which followed Tertius on to the field. The Gryffindor Chasers managed to score eight times against Tertius, who left the field still grinning broadly. They scored another eight goals against Harriet Quigley, the skinny third-year girl who followed Tertius.
Ron was the last prospective Keeper to fly upwards and hover in front of the golden hoops. He looked tense, Harry thought, and rather pale under his freckles, but his jaw was clenched with determination and one hand was clutching his broom's handle very tightly.
Katie Bell had the Quaffle, and she was swooping along the pitch in lazy spirals, making as though she was about to pass it to Angelina. Putting on a sudden burst of speed, she dodged a Bludger, swerved right round George and lobbed the Quaffle to Alicia, who flew up high and fast and sent the Quaffle over Ron's head towards the nearest golden hoop. Ron shot backwards and flung out one long arm above the hoop. The Quaffle bounced off his hand, missed the hoop and fell downwards, to be neatly retrieved by Madam Hooch.
Nice one, Ron! Harry thought, grinning, but managing not to shout it out loud, remembering that as Captain he was supposed to be an impartial judge today. He heard a cheer, though, from the stands where Hermione, Ginny, Neville and the others were watching.
After a few minutes, Fred and George started hitting the Bludgers to each other again, weaving in and out of the other players just to make things more interesting. Ron had to duck a couple of times, but seemed to be able to predict where his brothers were going to attack from well enough to evade them. Harry circled the players, wincing as Angelina managed to fool Ron at last and dart in to score the first goal against him. When Madam Hooch's whistle went to signal the end of Ron's trial, though, the Chasers had only scored twice against him. Harry watched his friend head for the ground, looking rather pleased with himself.
Madam Hooch was beckoning the Gryffindor team to come down and join her and Professor McGonagall. They landed, and moved away from the group of hopeful Keepers to hold a team conference. As they waited for the Weasley twins to finish wrestling the Bludgers back into their box, Harry found himself next to Madam Hooch.
"I've been wanting a word with you, Potter," she said. "I've got a useful boy in my first-year flying class - Prashant Patil. D'you know him?"
"Prashant? Yeah, he's Parvati's younger brother," Harry said, looking across to the stands. Prashant, still sporting a black eye from his fight with Raymond Crabbe, was sitting over there with a bunch of first-years who were making a lot of excited noise.
"Well, he seems like a fine prospect. Very quick - got a good eye, too. Right build for a Seeker. I thought you might like to train him up as your reserve."
Harry was taken aback. "Reserve?"
"Always useful to have one," Madam Hooch pointed out. "You do have a bit of a reputation for injuries, after all. And it's always worth looking to the future - you want Gryffindor to carry on winning after you leave, don't you?"
"Er - yeah, of course," said Harry. Her words had given him a jolt. For the first time, he realised that his days at Hogwarts were passing quickly. In a few short years, he and his friends would be gone from here, and other students would be wearing the Gryffindor team robes on the Quidditch pitch. When Harry had first joined the team, people had said He's the best Seeker we've had since Charlie Weasley - in a few years' time, would they be saying of Prashant, or someone else, He's the best Seeker we've had since Harry Potter? Harry found it a bitter-sweet thought. Playing Quidditch for Gryffindor was something he could happily go on doing for years to come.
"Oi! Harry! Wake up!" George was grinning at him. The Weasley twins had joined the team conference. Harry dragged his thoughts away from the future and back to the present. He looked rather uncomfortably at the rest of the team. He wanted Ron to succeed so much but he did not want to be accused of favouritism. He was not totally sure how Fred and George felt about having Ron on the team either.
"So, what do you think?" Professor McGonagall asked them.
The Chasers had been talking quietly together. Now Angelina turned and said, "We're pretty sure about who we'd like - if it's all right with you, Professor - and the Captain, of course!" And she smiled at Harry.
In the end, the vote was unanimous.
* * * * *
"Don't be too down-hearted," Madam Hooch told the unsuccessful Keepers. "You all played well. Next year there will be a good many vacancies on your House team. You should keep that in mind, and keep working on your game."
Ron, still scarlet to the ears, was standing next to Harry, seemingly stunned into silence by the announcement Professor McGonagall had just made.
"Ron!" Hermione was running across the field towards them, closely followed by Ginny, Colin and Neville. She beamed at Harry and Ron as she reached them. "Well done, I knew you could do it!" She hesitated for just a moment, before giving Ron a congratulatory hug.
"Hermione!" Ron had gone, if it was possible, even more scarlet, although Harry noticed he made no effort to actually fend Hermione off. She released Ron quickly, blushing slightly, and stood back to let Ginny get at him.
"Ginny - geroff!" Ron did protest as his sister tried to hug him too, but the words were scarcely out of his mouth before he gave an agonised "Oof!" and staggered sideways under a sudden onslaught from Fred and George.
"Hey, nice one Ron! Wait till Mum hears - she'll be chuffed to bits with her little Ronnikins!"
"Shut up -"
"We've got to have a party - come on George, let's see if we can get hold of some eats."
The twins hurried off ahead towards the school buildings. Everyone else followed at a more leisurely pace. Other students kept coming up to congratulate Ron, who still looked heartily embarrassed but highly gratified.
Harry, walking at the back of the group and enjoying his friend's moment of glory, looked round as they reached the front steps of the castle and saw Prashant Patil a short distance away with some other first-years. Harry broke away from his friends and crossed over to Prashant.
"Prashant? Can I have a word with you?"
Prashant looked surprised to have been singled out by the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, but nodded quickly and walked away with Harry.
"Madam Hooch says you're a really good flier," Harry began abruptly. "She thinks you might make a good reserve Seeker for the Gryffindor team. Are you interested in coming to train with the team?"
Prashant looked at him speechlessly for a moment, before his face broke into its usual broad grin. "With the team? D'you mean it?"
"Is that a 'yes'?" Harry asked, grinning back at him.
Prashant nodded, beaming.
"Great, well, I'll let you know when the first practice is. You'll need a broom - I'll ask Professor McGonagall if she'll bend the rule about no brooms for first-years. If she won't, you can use a school one or we'll borrow one for you. OK?"
Prashant nodded again, then said breathlessly, "Thanks, Harry! See you!"
As he watched Prashant dashing off to join his friends, clearly dying to share the big news, Harry was amazed at how old he felt suddenly, watching the first-years talking eagerly together. They made him feel very elderly and worldly-wise. Making his way towards Gryffindor Tower, he remembered how small he had felt at his first team practice, surrounded by older students. Oliver Wood, then a fifth-year, had seemed almost like an adult to him.
As he climbed through the portrait-hole into the common room, Harry was almost deafened by the noise. The celebration party Fred and George had decided to throw for Ron had already started.
* * * * *
The good moods of the Gryffindor fifth-years did not last into the next morning. After the party, which had lasted until Professor McGonagall had come storming into the common room to send them to bed, quite a few people looked tired and heavy-eyed at the breakfast table. Ron had come down to breakfast still cheerful, but his good mood was soured when Hermione received a letter from Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker who had taken her to the Yule Ball during his visit to Hogwarts. Hermione, understandably, tucked the letter away in her pocket and refused to read it out loud at the table. After a few sarcastic comments from Ron - who still persisted in calling Krum Vicky in an aggravating tone - Hermione snapped back at him, and Harry had to put up with his two friends sniping at each other for the rest of breakfast. Fortunately they could not keep up their argument after the meal, as Hermione stalked off to an Arithmancy class, while Harry dragged the glowering Ron up to North Tower for a Divination lesson that was only remarkable for the number of times a nervous Neville managed to spill the Tarot cards all over the floor.
"Hey, Neville," Harry said to him, as he helped to collect up the cards for the fourth time, "d'you want to meet up in the library tonight and start planning this project we've got to do for History of Magic? We've got to get started on it some time."
"All right." Neville looked pleased at the idea that his collaboration was needed. "I hope you've got some good ideas though, I can't think what to do for it."
Harry considered this as they walked back down the spiral staircase from North Tower. The shortest way back to Gryffindor Tower took them within a few corridors of the place where he knew the Portal lay hidden behind the statue of the Quidditch player. Harry wondered again how many people knew of the Portal's existence, and whether he would ever need it to reach Gatehouse Cottage or the ruins of Blackdale House in a hurry. He appreciated the way this term had already fallen into the comfortable, normal pattern of school - lessons, meals, homework, Quidditch - but he was always aware of the prickle of unease, always half-expecting the next threat from Voldemort and his Death Eaters - and not even in Quidditch could he lose himself completely, and forget the danger.
By the time the school day had finished, with a lively lesson on Fire-Extinguishing Charms from Professor Flitwick, Harry was relieved to see that Ron and Hermione had decided to forget their differences over the letter from Krum. Perhaps feeling guilty about his attitude earlier, Ron did not argue when Hermione decided they needed to work on their History of Magic project that evening.
"I think the medieval witch-trials would be a good period of history to focus on," she said seriously. "It's Professor Binns's favourite subject, so he'll probably give us a good mark for it."
"Hermione," Ron said, straight-faced, "Professor Binns always gives you good marks."
"Yes, well, you've got to do half the work on this project, remember -"
"Neville and I were going to start our project tonight, too," Harry put in quickly, before another argument could develop.
"Oh yes?" Hermione looked interested. "Have you decided what you're going to choose to research?"
Ron groaned - but very, very quietly.
* * * * *
Harry did have an idea for his History of Magic project now, but he was not sure that Neville would like it. When they had found an empty table in the library and sorted out their quills and parchment, he found Neville looking at him expectantly. "I was thinking," Harry began, "Professor Binns did say any aspect of wizarding history - some of those things Professor Moody told us about Aurors last term were really interesting - why don't we do something about wizarding law-enforcement?" Harry did not mention the fact that "Professor Moody" had actually been a Death Eater. "We could put in about the Aurors, and the setting up of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, and we could write about the punishments wizards have been given, like being sent to Azkaban. What d'you think?"
Harry had been prepared for Neville to turn the idea down. After all, Neville's own parents had been Aurors, before they had been so savagely attacked by Death Eaters that they had been insane ever since. Writing about Aurors and wizarding crime and punishment might be too painful for him. However, Neville greeted the idea more cheerfully than Harry had supposed.
"All right. My Cousin Cyril works for the M.L.E.S., actually - I could owl and ask him to tell us about how it's changed since it was set up."
"Yeah, that's a good idea. And I could owl Ron's dad - he works for the Ministry, and he probably knows some good stuff about the history of the Ministry and how they organise the sections that fight crime."
Harry was surprised at how interested he and Neville both got in planning the sections of their project. They went off and collected a stack of books which looked as though they might come in useful - books with titles such as Aurors Through the Ages and Broken The Law? - Your Essential Guide to the Wizarding Legal System. Harry was taking a copy of Who's Who in the Ministry of Magic off the shelf when he saw Hermione and Ron ensconced at a table in a far corner - Ron appeared to be ploughing resignedly through the enormous pile of books on the table in search of something, while Hermione took notes in her usual meticulous way.
Back at his own table, Harry picked up a very old book called Wizarding Punishments in Victorian Britain and started to flick through it. The author seemed to have savoured describing some of the more gory punishments, and some of the pictures were quite revolting, Harry thought. He looked to see who had written it, and the author's name caught his attention - Leopold Lestrange. Lestrange - where had he heard that name before?
"Lestrange," he said, aloud.
"What?" Neville asked.
"This book - it's by someone called Lestrange. I'm sure I've heard that name before."
"You probably have," Neville shrugged. "They're an old wizarding family. My Gran's mentioned them. She says they all went to the bad. She used to know one - I think his name was Simon - Simon Lestrange. He was one of You-Know-Who's lot. I think he's in Azkaban."
"Bet he was a Slytherin, then," said Harry, still unable to remember where he had heard the name Lestrange before.
Neville screwed up his face, as though trying to remember something more. "I'm sure there was something else Gran said about him - oh yeah! His wife's in Azkaban too, I think. And guess what? She's the sister of Malfoy's mum."
"Malfoy's aunt's in Azkaban?" Harry said.
"I think so." Neville looked dubious for a moment. "Yeah, I think that's right. You should hear what Gran says about Malfoy's dad. She can't stand him."
"Well, she's not the only one," Harry pointed out. Privately, he was looking forward to telling Ron what he had found out. Malfoy had kept that piece of information pretty quiet. Harry wondered how he felt about having an aunt in Azkaban. Harry still shuddered when he thought of the Dementors, and what Sirius had been through in Azkaban.
But Sirius was innocent, he reminded himself. And I bet Malfoy's aunt's guilty, whatever they put her in Azkaban for.
* * * * *
When the Hogwarts library closed at eight o'clock, Harry and Neville walked back towards Gryffindor Tower with Hermione and Ron, each carrying several heavy books. Hermione was talking about her discoveries concerning medieval witch-burning, and Harry was listening to her with about half his attention, when he saw Professor McGonagall coming towards them along a corridor.
"Ah, there you are, Potter," she said. "Come to my office - there's a visitor for you."
"For me?" Harry asked in surprise.
"That's what I said. Hurry up, now." Professor McGonagall swept off along the corridor, clearly expecting Harry to chase after her. Ron, Hermione and Neville kindly offered to take his books back to Gryffindor Tower for him, and Harry dashed off in pursuit of the Deputy Headmistress.
Harry wondered who could have come to see him. Sirius? No, Sirius would not risk coming back to Hogwarts at this time. Remus, perhaps? After all, Sirius had said in his last letter that Remus was going to visit Hogwarts…
It was indeed Remus Lupin who was waiting in Professor McGonagall's small office, sitting in a chair and watching the flickering of the bright fire. Professor McGonagall showed Harry in, and then withdrew, leaving them alone.
"How are you, Harry?" Remus asked, turning round to smile at him. "Term got off to a good start?"
"Considering what happened last term, everything's fine at the moment," Harry reassured him. "Did you get my owl about Quidditch?"
"About you being made Captain, you mean? We certainly did, and we were both delighted. Your father would have been proud, Harry - he was Captain himself, you know."
"Yeah." Another reason, Harry thought, to treasure his Captain's armband. "And guess what - Ron's Keeper!"
"Excellent." Remus stood up. "Shall we go for a short walk? You can give me the rest of your news."
The grounds were almost deserted when they walked down the front steps of the castle. Most of the students were in their common rooms by this time, and dusk was falling over the grounds. "It seems longer than a few days since we last saw you, Harry," Remus told him. "I must admit, life does seem quiet at Gatehouse Cottage without you."
"How's Sirius?" Harry asked anxiously. He was worried that his godfather might have fallen into one of the depressed moods that still sometimes overcame him when he reflected on the wasted years in Azkaban.
"He's fine. We've both been very busy. That's why I'm here - I had to come and see Professor Dumbledore." Remus did not offer Harry any details of his meeting with Dumbledore, and Harry knew better than to ask.
"Professor Snape's been away this week," he mentioned, hoping that Remus might throw light on this mystery. "Fleur Delacour's been teaching us Potions instead - you remember, she was the Beauxbatons champion I told you about. We don't know when Professor Snape's coming back."
But Remus was not to be drawn on the subject of Professor Snape's whereabouts, if, indeed, he had any information on that subject. They strolled for a while around the grounds, keeping near to the castle and talking about Quidditch, Harry's lessons, Mrs. Figg's latest cooking exploits and other safe subjects. Remus laughed when Harry told him how Blackie had won a fight with Mrs. Norris - but Harry did not tell Remus about his discovery of the Portal.
Night had almost fallen, and they had turned to stroll back towards the castle, when Harry said suddenly, "Do they - have they found out where Voldemort is now? Did they find that place where he was hiding?"
Remus looked at Harry sharply. "The place where you were attacked? They found that, yes. But there was no sign of Voldemort by then - only a few traces of your duel with him. He has found a new hiding-place, but that was only to be expected." He paused, and although it was nearly dark Harry could see the look of affection and concern on his face. "You may be assured, Harry," Remus said softly, "that we are all working - doing everything we can - to find him and put a stop to him before he causes more damage to the lives of innocent people."
"I know," Harry said, and they walked on in silence. It was a mild, still evening, and the faint smell of early autumn - leaf and mould - came up from the damp ground as they walked.
They were approaching the castle steps when they saw a figure hurrying out of the front door and down the steps. It was a woman in a dark cloak, and in the dusk Harry just recognised her before she pulled her hood over her brown hair and hurried off along the path which led to Hogsmeade.
Remus stopped walking abruptly. "Who was that?" he asked sharply.
"Oh, that's Professor Stoddard - she's our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Harry told him, wanting to reassure Remus that she was not a suspicious character. "She doesn't live in the castle - she lives in Hogsmeade, because she's got two little kids."
"What did you say her name was?" Remus asked, still watching Professor Stoddard's retreating figure intently.
"Professor Stoddard. Why, d'you know her?"
"I - No. No, for a moment she reminded me of someone, that's all. But it can't have been her." Remus shook his head, as if to clear it, and looked back at Harry. "Come on. It's dark now. You need to be in Gryffindor Tower, and I must get back. We'll talk again soon."
As the front doors closed behind Harry and Remus, darkness closed over the grounds, broken only by the golden lights shining from some of the many windows of the castle.
To be continued…