CHAPTER ELEVEN

Perfect sensE

            Harry took his time as he trudged through the halls of Hogwarts on his way to McGonagall's office.  For the rest of the feast he'd been dreading what was about to come.

            He couldn't believe that Malfoy had snitched on him.  He'd barely said anything mean.  Malfoy was a crummy seeker and everyone knew it – Harry was only speaking the truth.  He shook his head.  Malfoy was a stupid part.  Harry had a right to trash talk with him.  He would just have to tell McGonagall his side of the story.  She had such competitive nature herself; she would understand.

            Harry took a deep breath, then knocked on her office door.

            "Come in."

            Harry quietly pushed the door open.  Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk.  Dumbledore was at her side, leaning against it.

            "Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said.  "Just the wizard we were talking about."

            Harry gulped.  He hoped they were talking about good things.  If he was in trouble with Dumbledore as well, he'd be spending his next year in detention as well. "Hello, Professors."

            "Well, I suppose you're wondering why I've called you here," McGonagall said with a sigh.  Harry looked up at her with a fearful expression, bracing himself for what was about to come.  "Don't worry, my dear, it's nothing bad."

            Harry blew out a sigh of relief, fluttering his bangs over his eyes.

            "Unless you're feeling particularly guilty about something," Dumbledore questioned.

            "No sir," Harry answered.  He wouldn't allow himself to feel guilty for talking back to Malfoy.  He turned to McGonagall.

            She smiled brightly.  "Congratulations, Harry!" she cried.  "You're the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain!"

            "I… I am?" Harry asked, grinning.

            "Yes, yes, why, after Fred and George Weasley graduated they said that you would be the natural choice for team captain, and I agree wholeheartedly."

            Harry felt his face grow red.  Had Fred and George really nominated him for the job?  He'd have to remember to thank them later.  "Thank you, professor.  I'll do my best."

            "I've no doubt in my mind that you were the right choice, Potter," McGonagall said.  "So tonight, you can celebrate – but not too late.  I've booked the field for early morning tryouts tomorrow.  The team will be picked very carefully.  After all, we've really got our work cut out for us this year."

            Her words reminded Harry of what Malfoy said on the train.  'Just wait Potter, you'll get yours…'  What exactly did Slytherin have up their sleeves for this season?  Did McGonagall know?  Perhaps she knew about the Sorting Hat as well.  Maybe Malfoy had something to do with that.

            "Professors, can I ask you a question?"

            "Certainly," Dumbledore asked.  "What's troubling you, my boy?  Is it about Sirius?"  He paused.  "I just received a letter from him yesterday morning.  He has left Hawaii and has now moved further south.  He's fine, and on Voldemort's tail."

            Harry felt a pang of jealousy.  Sirius had the time to write a letter to Dumbledore but not even send Harry a birthday card.  Then he immediately felt guilty.  Sirius was only doing what was best for his godson.

            "No, it's not about Sirius," Harry replied.  "I was wondering about the Sorting Hat tonight."

            Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged glances.  Dumbledore cleared his throat.  "Yes, well, the Hat was in a bad mood tonight…"

            "But what he was saying…" Harry's voice trailed off.  "Is it true?  Is somebody sorted wrong?"

            "Now, now," McGonagall said.  "The Sorting Hat cannot make a mistake.  It's impossible.  It is a being of magic."

            "You weren't thinking that it was you, I hope?" Dumbledore questioned.  "Harry, we've already been over this.  You belong in Gryffindor."

            "I know," Harry said.  "But there were three extra Slytherins tonight.  How is that possible?"

            "Well…" Dumbledore caught McGonagall's eye again.  "The number of students in each house isn't exactly set in stone."

"Usually, the selection process of students evens out our houses," McGonagall interjected.

"However, this year there seems to be a glitch in the system," Dumbledore said.  "But everyone was sorted correctly."

"Then why was the Sorting Hat so angry?"

The pause that followed made Harry even more suspicious.  There was something that the professors knew that he didn't.  And something told Harry that they wanted to keep it that way.

"Harry, I assure you that the Sorting Hat has done its job and you don't need to worry about it," Dumbledore replied.  "Tonight should be a night of celebration.  Go back to your friends.  I'm sure they're anxious to hear the news."  Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, and Harry knew he wouldn't be able to get anymore information from him.

Harry nodded to each of them, then left McGonagall's office and headed up to the Gryffindor common room.  Why did he feel like everyone knew something that he didn't?

            The common room was bustling with activity.  Hermione sat next to Ron on the loveseat in front of the fireplace.  An uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

            "Ron, I think we need to talk," she said.  The awkwardness between them had been growing worse and worse ever since that day in Hawaii.

            "About what?" he asked innocently.

            "I think you know."

            He turned and looked around at all the people in the common room.  "Not now, Hermione.  Not here.  Not with everybody watching."

            "When then, Ron?  When?"  She was going to have this conversation with him, and she was going to have it now.  "I can't ever get you alone, and when I do you refuse to speak to me."

            "Okay, okay," Ron said, trying to shush her.  "Let's talk."

            Hermione took a deep breath.  "About before – in Hawaii – I'm sorry."

            "You don't have to apologize," Ron interrupted.  He was blushing.  He looked down to his lap and began mumbling to himself.  "I'm just a big stupid oaf, that's all.  I just wanted… I don't know what I wanted.  I don't know what I was thinking.  I was just hoping you felt the same way.  If I could go back to that day, I'd…"

            "You're not going to take it back, are you?" she interjected.

            "I'd…"  He looked up and met her eyes.  "Take it back?"

            Hermione's heart was racing.  She could hear the beating in her ears.  Before she could hesitate any longer, she slipped her hand into his.  "I… I hope you're not going to take it back now."  She gulped as Ron's eyes grew wide.  His hand was warm in hers, and a little rough, like a man's hand should be.  "Now that I've just gotten used to the idea."

            A broad smile broke out on Ron's face.  "You mean… you mean…"

            "I don't mean that I'm in love with you," Hermione said quickly.  "I just mean that I'm… well…" She didn't quite know how to explain it.  She wished that sharing her feelings was as easy is arithmacy.  "I'm in like with you, if that makes any sense at all."

            "Perfect sense."

Ron's wide grin stretched from ear to ear.  Hermione scooted a little closer to him on the couch, about to get more comfortable, when the portrait door swung open and shut.

Harry spotted the new couple over by the fireplace and plopped down in a nearby chair, eyeing their joined hands curiously.  Ron tried to take his hand away, but Hermione held on to it.  She wasn't going to hide her feelings any longer.  She also wanted to prove to Ron that he was right about what he said in Hawaii:  her feelings had nothing to do with Harry.

            Ron and Harry exchanged secret smiles.  "So what sort of punishment did McGonagall give you?" Ron asked.

            "Not punishment.  Actually, she congratulated me.  I'm the new Quidditch Captain!"

            "All right, Harry!  Congratulations!" Hermione cried.

            "Wicked!" Ron said.  "We need to celebrate!"

            "Celebrate what?" Ginny questioned, sitting down in the chair across from Harry..

            "Harry got quidditch captain," Hermione said.

            "That's great, Harry!" Ginny said.  "We could send somebody down to the kitchens to get some food and really have a party."

            "No, that's okay," Harry replied graciously.  "Tomorrow's the first day of classes.  And quidditch tryouts are early tomorrow morning."

            "So I heard," Ron said.  "I was thinking of trying out for the team this year.  After all, Fred and George were some of the finest beaters at Hogwarts.  Maybe I've got a little bit of their talent, too."

            "That's a good idea, Ron," Hermione said.  "You'd probably make it too."

            "Yeah," Ginny said.  "You're always practicing with Harry and everybody in the backyard.  I bet you'd have a decent shot."

            "You know, I think I will," he decided.  "Yeah.  I am going to tryout for the house team tomorrow."  And if he actually did make the team, he couldn't think of a better way to impress Hermione.