After his conversation with Dumbledore, Harry took the long route back to the Common Room thanks to two different staircases that decided to change, as he was in mid-climb. It was an hour past curfew when he finally entered through the portrait hole. He saw Hermione catch his eye and then threw a significant look at the time upon the grandfather clock. Harry just shrugged and listlessly collapsed into the armchair near the fire beside her.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, watching him closely.
"Nothing," Harry said as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Talked with Dumbledore after everyone left."
"And?" Hermione prompted.
Harry cracked his eyes open and leaned forward, running a hand through his hair. Harry pulled a face recalling his conversation and then said, "Well, after he finally got around to the point, he said the Ministry made its submission to the Council this evening." Hermione quickly shut her book, shoved it to the side and slipped down onto the floor in front of Harry, leaning forward to hear more. "The Council meets tomorrow but Dumbledore said that a number of foreign seats and are prepared to offer up additional financial aid to us. He said they've been talking and they think Fudge is just too stubborn to admit he needs the aid. It should be more than enough and get Fudge to back off on the proposals to amend that original Gringotts Charter."
"Well, that's good news," Hermione said with a sigh of relief.
"What are you talking about Gringotts for?" came Ron's voice from behind Harry's chair. Both Harry and Hermione froze. Ron walked around the chair and looked down at them with his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you two know about Fudge's dealings with Gringotts?" His eyes snapped open wide and then he said, "You overheard stuff about the Order!"
"Shhh!" both Harry and Hermione hissed as Harry grabbed on to Ron's arm and dragged him to the floor beside them.
"That's a secret Order, remember?" Harry chided.
"But you did over hear something," Ron said eagerly. "Didn't you? Who'd you overhear? Dumbledore? Bill? Was Bill here? I know Dad said they might have to come to Hogwarts for some meetings this year."
Harry closed his eyes, trying to think of something to tell Ron when Hermione made up the story for him, saying, "It's an assignment Harry's doing for his study under Dumbledore. He's to research and understand Wizard and Non-Wizard relations and he's working on the Goblins right now. It's been all over the news for months now that Fudge has been scrambling for more funds."
"Oh," said Ron as his face fell. "It's some homework thing?" He looked like he might just forget ever hearing about it on that basis alone but then nodded once and asked, "So what's the story? Fudge needs money now that big daddy Lucius Malfoy is locked away and can't drop him gold crumbs?"
"Well, actually yes," Hermione said slowly. "That's been in the news, too. Malfoy's practices as Finance Authority Official were rumored to have been suspect at best, although evidence is still forthcoming. They've hired a new official to come in and audit his records—that's Planesse."
Ron scoffed, "Well of course Malfoy was crooked! It's not natural to be that filthy rich now, is it?" Ron shook his head as if it were obvious and said, "I bet half the Malfoy's gold came from some crooked deal or another. He's probably even been robbing the Ministry blind and skiving off it ever since he started to work there. You know he'd have done it if he could get away with it."
Hermione frowned and thoughtfully chewed on her lower lip before slowly saying, "Well, that's about what the Prophet has alluded to but the investigations on Malfoy's conduct have become second page news as time's gone by. The Press and public opinion have been criticizing Fudge more than anyone really. I suppose no one thinks it's very satisfying to accuse someone who's already been caught, though. Even now when Malfoy's mentioned, it's to make Fudge look bad for having had a Death Eater so high up in the Ministry." Hermione trailed off, still frowning thoughtfully.
Although Ron seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with her, he was still affording Hermione a fair amount of respect, something that had been rare this year and Harry watched their conversation with interest and some hope. Ron looked up then at Harry and asked, "So what does this have to do with Gringotts?"
Harry exchanged a brief glance with Hermione and then said, "Well, you see, the thing is, er…" Harry wasn't sure what to say and how to excuse how he knew what he did know. His mind was working furiously as to what to say.
"Did you already tell her?" Ron asked with a dark look at Hermione. The accusation was clear in his meaning that he expected to hear an excuse why he couldn't be told of the things Hermione could.
"No, that's not it at all," Harry said quickly. "Look, Dumbledore just happens to get chatty with me and told me some stuff that hasn't been made exactly public yet. I'm probably not supposed to tell anyone, is all." At Ron's growing hard look, Harry quickly added, "But I don't reckon it makes a difference to tell you. It's not big really, just Fudge being Fudge. You see he's been trying to get Gringotts to let him claim the contents of the vaults of prisoners serving life sentences. It's noteworthy in the grand scheme of Goblin history and the original charter that granted them Gringotts. I've been following it to, er, study their historical interactions with Wizards." Harry gave a small nod to Hermione who was looking very pensive. "As Dumbledore is back on the Wizards Council, he was able to tell me that they'll be meeting tomorrow to go over a proposal from Fudge that would amend the charter to allow him access if it was ratified. Dumbledore's against it though. He doesn't think it will happen."
"Why not? It sounds like a great idea to me!" Ron said so loudly Harry had to shush him again. More quietly, he said, "Harry—they're Death Eaters we're talking about! Why should they be allowed to keep their vaults of gold so they can use it while they're out on the run as escapees?"
"They're not out on the run, Ron," Hermione corrected. "Most families only have one vault. You'd be advocating stripping an entire family of all their savings and wealth because of one member's decision."
"But if it's Malfoy," Ron started to protest.
"Then Draco—and his mother—are still innocent until proven guilty," Hermione stated firmly. "Frankly, it's bad enough the ones who were captured last year were sent away with trials. I'd be more inclined to care if we didn't see them for ourselves trying to kill us, but that doesn't mean it was right in principle."
Ron stared at her incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me. Who needs a trial to convict a Death Eater?!"
"Sirius didn't get a trial and he had to spend twelve years in Azkaban because of it," Harry said evenly.
Ron looked duly castigated and more than a little uncomfortable at the topic of Sirius. Even after all this time, Sirius' death had never really been a topic of discussion between Ron and Harry. Harry figured Ron was too afraid the topic might cause Harry to get emotional or something.
Hermione reached a hand up and rested it on Harry's knee as she said, "It's rather ironic that we're probably the only ones who would raise a protest to sending away those Death Eaters without a trial but we're also the ones who witnessed their guilt first hand."
Harry gave her a wry smile and nodded appreciatively at the irony. Ron cleared his throat and, clearly trying to change the subject, said, "I bet the Order's real busy lately since all the attacks. I wish I knew what they were doing to try and stop them, don't you?"
Reflexively, Harry said, "It's not the Order's job to stop every attack and protect everyone." He'd had to keep reminding himself this over and over numerous times since the attacks on mixed-blood families had begun. Hermione's hand then gave his knee a tight squeeze, making him wince. "What—er, what I mean is," Harry spoke in a measured voice, thinking quickly. "Now that the Ministry acknowledges Voldemort's back, the Order has fewer burdens." Ron was still frowning, confused and about to ask a question so Harry added, "The Ministry protects the people. The Ministry has to concern itself with the greater good of the populace and with defending against dark wizard attacks."
Dumbledore, Moody and Remus had each repeated this to Harry more than once whenever Harry had started to look overwhelmed about the lives that were now routinely being lost pointlessly every week. The Order's dedicated to enable you, Harry, to do what you need to do, they'd say. Our mission must remain focused upon the defeat of the Dark Lord, was what Dumbledore was fond of saying. Harry had taken to reminding himself of this whenever his thoughts wandered to those who had lost a loved one. Sometimes his voice to remind himself was mocking of the words of his advisors but most often it was bitter about the truth of reality and resentful of the pressure that truth put upon him.
Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by Ron speaking. "Then why does the Order have us doing the DA and teaching defense if that's the Ministry's job?" Ron's forehead was creased in contemplation. "What is the Order doing if not fighting You-Know-Who?"
Harry grasped Hermione's hand upon his knee in silent communication that he wanted to answer these questions himself. "Well, the Order is meant to help defeat Voldemort," Harry started. At Ron's shiver and continued furrowed brow, he went on. "Defeating Voldemort and protecting the general populace is not the same thing."
Hermione piped in, saying, "That's one of the reasons the Order had such a hard time of it last year trying to do both."
Harry nodded and squeezed her hand again. "Right and the DA is just a way to help make up for all the rotten Defense instructors we've had. The Ministry can't do everything and the more everyone can defend themselves at a basic level at least, then the better."
Harry watched Ron's reaction closely and felt a surge of resentment towards Mrs. Weasley for making him promise to not tell Ron the truth about his and Hermione's involvement in the Order. It wasn't fair he had to keep things from one of his best friends.
"I guess I never thought about it like that," Ron said. Ron was chewing on his thumbnail now and giving Harry the distinct feeling he had a question he wanted to ask but didn't think he should.
"What?" Harry asked.
Ron's gaze was diverted away and his hand dropped to his lap. "Oh, nothing." He then made a show of looking around at the near empty Common Room, there were only a few oblivious students working diligently in the darker corners of the room, and said, "I think I'm going to head to bed."
Harry grinned as Ron stood up and yawned tiredly. "Yeah, when's your first class tomorrow? Sometime after noon isn't it?"
Snapping his mouth shut after his yawn, Ron grinned back and retorted, "You're just jealous."
Harry could only nod and laugh haltingly as a yawn took him too by surprise.
Hermione watched Ron leave up the stairs to the boys' dormitory and then climbed up to sit in Harry's lap. She laid her head upon his shoulder and sighed contentedly as his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her to him. After a few moments Hermione asked, "Is there more?" Harry frowned and nodded once against her head and, not for the first time, he wished they could just run away from the world and leave it all behind. "And?" Hermione prompted, her hand curling around the collar of his robes.
"Oh, er," Harry rubbed her back with one hand as he spoke softly, "Dumbledore said that more nations from the Council seem, er, amenable was the word he used, to giving our Ministry aid because it seems that while we've been hit with an rising number of attacks and dark activity, other nations are enjoying a significant decrease in dark activity in their homelands. It looks like Voldemort's been recruiting all across Europe and for all we know, he might have been doing this all of last year." He paused here and his arms tightened unconsciously, holding Hermione tighter to him. "Dumbledore said it's why so many in the Council are willing to give us more aid now; ours is the only nation at war."
Hermione lifted her head up and leaned their foreheads together, looking into Harry's eyes. Somehow, just looking into her eyes, flickering with the light of the fire, made Harry forget about any war, forget he was supposed to be worried about this and he completely forget he was the one supposed to save the world. For all he was concerned at this moment, the world began and ended all within the circle of his arms.
The next morning at breakfast Harry received a very haggard looking unfamiliar owl that stuck out her leg pleadingly to be rid of her delivery and then took several long gulps of water from a silver pitcher.
"Who's that from?" Hermione inquired, looking up and eyeing the water pitcher with some distaste.
"Dunno." Harry unrolled the note and smiled as he recognized the untidy scrawl of Hagrid.
Harry,
On schedule to hit land in two days. Grawpy is enjoying the trip. Will send a note in the kettle when we get there. Weather's horribly cold. Good luck to Gryffindor in your first Quidditch match!
Hagrid
"Oh, you might already have cauldron post depending on when he sent this. Did you check it this morning?" Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head. "No, most everyone just sends it to Dumbledore. I'll have to check later." Harry was still smiling sadly. He'd thought more than once he would have been comforted to have gotten away for tea and inedible rock cakes with Hagrid a few times since Halloween.
"Oh, I do hope they have good luck with their visit," Hermione said, worrying the nib of her quill.
Harry gave her a look and said, "I just hope he doesn't find Norbert and bring him back."
The rest of the day, Harry kept wondering how Dumbledore's meeting with the International Wizards Council was going and if Fudge had gotten enough aid to meet the Ministry's needs. In Healing, Firenze had everyone hexing small cuts onto the back of each other's hands and then trying to heal them.
"Once you have mastered the way with your wand, set it aside. Use your hands to feel the cursing magic on the wound. True Healing is not sorcery but a passive magic," Firenze lectured tonelessly as he stepped between them all spread out around the forested classroom.
"Ow! Harry, you're not doing it right!" Hermione said, jerking her hand back and cradling it against her.
"Sorry," he muttered, watching her heal the cut herself. "Here, do mine again." He offered her his hand and she cast the hex, creating a shallow laceration on it and then watched her lightly run her wand tip down the cut to seal it back up. He was having no problem healing a cut on his own hand but seemed to be having a problem getting the trick of healing hers.
Lavender cried out sharply as her partner, Katie Bell, hexed her hand. "Dammit! Why can't we use someone serving a detention to hex and heal instead of having to do this to ourselves?" she said angrily shaking her stinging hand. Harry snickered at her and Katie's apologetic look as Hermione took his hand to practice again.
Dean, working with Neville, laughed at this and said, "Yeah, Filch would love that. He could whip the poor students and then we could use them for healing practice."
Harry laughed again and then felt Hermione jerk his hand towards her as she said, "What happened? Why didn't it work?" Hermione was glaring at the cut still on his hand as if it were openly mocking her. "Let me try it again."
But before she could touch her wand to Harry's hand, Firenze stepped behind her and said, "Let us see him heal himself." She let Harry's hand drop back to his lap and Harry pointed his wand at the cut and ran it along the wound, sealing it perfectly.
Firenze observed without comment and then said, "Let me now try." Harry cast the hex on himself and held out his hand to Firenze who then said, "I want you to close your eyes as I heal your hand." Harry obliged and closed his eyes. He then heard Firenze say, "I'm feeling your wound now and healing it with my magic. Your wound is now healed. Open your eyes."
Harry blinked and pulled his hand down to look at it. Hermione looked too and, seeing his perfectly healed hand, scowled up at Firenze and then at Harry. "But that's not how you showed us earlier," she said to Firenze. "You never even touched him!"
"I did not heal him," Firenze said simply. "Use a different partner. You," he said to Harry, "are healing yourself. Move on to healing others and try it without your wand."
Hermione looked exasperatedly at Harry, probably because she had wasted time believing she was mastering the magic and they switched with Katie and Lavender. Lavender jumped at the chance to pair with Harry and shoved her hand at him, saying, "Here, you can try to heal me."
Healing at times had an almost mystical air to it where there were some things you either got or you didn't. It was almost like Divination in that regard but with much more of a practical application. It was anyone's call who would just naturally have what talent although the rest of them would eventually be able to learn most of the skills with practice. It wasn't about power, though, or even sheer will of focus that was required in this class. It was a much more subtle magic and almost like a blending or merging or your own body's inherent magic with that of the one you were healing.
Harry had some success trying to hold his hands on either side of Lavender's and healed her partially twice. She was more than willingly to let him keep trying and seemed to like the fact that since he had to concentrate for so long, she didn't have to get hexed as often. She also seemed to just like the fact she got to work closely with Harry because she seemed very disappointed when the bell rang to end their class.
"Did you do alright working with Katie?" Harry asked, joining Hermione as they stood to leave.
"Oh, yes. It took me a few times to go over it but yes. I should have known it seemed too easy with you." They walked out of the lush and balmy first floor room and back into the familiar drafty stone corridors, heading to the Great Hall for lunch. "I wonder if Dumbledore's back yet," she whispered.
"Yeah," Harry said, nodding. "I've been wondering how it's going all morning. He didn't say he wouldn't be back by tonight, though, so I imagine we'll find out soon enough."
But by the time the regular Friday night meeting came around, Dumbledore had still not returned. Professor McGonagall arrived in the antechamber off the Great Hall at seven and said she had spoken with the Headmaster over the Floo. "He said everything was going well and that he would not return until late this evening. He did not expect many drop-ins tonight," she said as she seated herself at a large round table where Moody was already seated.
He was studying a large parchment map as his one eye whirled around, never focusing one thing for more than a moment. He grunted a greeting to Harry and said, "You're getting lazy, boy! I sat right in the middle of a box twice this week and watched your entire team practicing until dark. Could have cursed you nine times over before you'd even began to fall off that broom of yours!"
"You could not!" Harry protested. "I have a Perimeter Charm on when I fly and it's even enlarged a bit when I go outside. I would have been able to dodge any spell as soon as it tripped the charm!" Moody rolled his head to the right and then left, considering him. Harry turned to McGonagall then and said, "But I already looked; I can't use that charm during a game and with good reason. I can feel a Bludger and even the Snitch when they fly close to me. No, I couldn't even try it even on the grounds as a safety precaution--not after the incident at the last game."
She frowned and Moody said, "We'll cover you in a game, Potter. I've got a guard of volunteers from the Order coming to watch the game next week and be on the look out. Bones is assigning Tonks--she went back on duty last week-- and a few other Aurors to stand guard around the grounds as well."
Harry raised his eyebrows, pausing as Hermione opened the door and entered, and said, "There wasn't a whole guard on hand at the last game. Would have been rather handy," he muttered, thinking how much nicer it would have been if some Auror could have helped Draco Malfoy as he fell off his Nimbus.
"The last game didn't have you flying about like a moving target, now did it?" Moody growled.
Harry grumbled and Hermione asked, "Harry, did you tell Moody about overhearing Malfoy earlier this week?"
"What? Oh, no," he said. He turned to Moody and said, "I mentioned it to Dumbledore last night and was going to send a note about it via cauldron to you, Remus and Snape today. Where is Remus?"
"Full moon tonight," Hermione said.
"About Bulstrode, Crabbe and Malfoy? Albus already told me," Moody said, waving it aside. "That lot is up to something, but we knew that, now didn't we? I talked to Severus about it just before and he's already got them under watch. Not much you can do except constant vigilance!" Moody pointed a gnarled finger at Harry as he said this. "Now, let's go over our news this week. We don't have the post from Albus' cauldron today but I have a preliminary list of watch names from Bones and the international cooperation what-have-you department. They've compiled profiles of suspected dark wizards from across the continent and are preparing a select taskforce of Aurors to secure undercover contacts and try to find anyone matching these descriptions. There've been one or two muggle witnesses to potions of at least two attacks where they mentioned the voices of the people sounded foreign. Then again, muggles may just think Latin incantations are something foreign, can't be sure." He looked at Harry and said, "I know you're always asking what they're doing to stop the attacks. Albus may have more on this when he gets back."
"Thanks," Harry said. "I got an owl from Hagrid this morning. They're set to reach land, he said in about two days time and that he would send cauldron post when they arrived. I checked mine before dinner and haven't got anything."
They went around and sorted through the various reports received from Order members and Harry, yet again, got frustrated that all the doings of Voldemort's followers seemed to have no real motive or purpose besides revenge for being deemed a blood traitor in some way (which Harry really thought was not much of a reason at all).
It was past ten at night when the door opened and Professor Dumbledore arrived at last. "Professor Dumbledore! How did it go?" Hermione blurted out as he was taking off his winter cloak.
He smiled at her and said, "Good evening to you too, Miss Granger." Hermione looked embarrassed at her outburst.
"Oh, Albus, we're all waiting. How did it go?" Professor McGonagall said impatiently as Dumbledore took his time to be seated, smiling at each of them.
"Well, it was a fine day for meeting with old friends and getting much accomplished," Dumbledore said conversationally.
"Did Minister Fudge show up at the Council himself?" McGonagall asked.
Dumbledore nodded and pulled a tin from his robe pocket. "Lemon drop?" he offered around the table. No one took one. He popped one into his mouth and, sucking thoughtfully, said, "He did indeed. Unfortunately for him, though, his name was somehow left off the agenda and he had to wait until the last orders of business before he could speak. He was most displeased," Dumbledore said mildly. "Ah, but the Council had much to say about his proposal, indeed. It was the topic of discussion for a great many hours this past evening."
"It didn't get approved, did it?" Hermione asked.
"Oh no," Dumbledore said, smiling brightly. "Most definitely not. However, it seems there were a few points within the proposed amendment that many felt did hold some merit." Harry was skeptical that anything Fudge had to say could have merit and thought both McGonagall and Moody had looks expressing similar doubts. "Oh yes, I was myself surprised at this," Dumbledore said with amusement. "The Council has voted to create a committee to oversee consideration to revise the Gringotts Charter. It only means it will be considered."
"What were these points, you say that were of merit?" Moody asked.
"Ah, well, it was roundly struck down to simply deem a prisoner serving a life sentence to be forfeit of all his wealth due to the common practice of shared family wealth and such. Also, Cornelius took some heat from some Council seats who disagree with the practice of sentencing without just trial." Hermione sniffed at this in agreement. "However, he brought up the point that known dark wizards might be likely to be harboring illegal dark artifacts within their possession and that a search of their properties--including their vaults--might be prudent."
Harry could not see anything immediately wrong about this and Moody was nodding along agreeably. He obviously believed dark wizards were likely to each possess an arsenal of evilly cursed items and heinous poisons. "Do you think this is what Fudge was after all along?" Moody asked leaning forward.
Dumbledore contemplated the answer and said, "No, he was far too enamored of the idea of the Ministry seizing gold and, in fact, when the Council seemed to be open to this one point, he appeared almost surprised and only seemed to embrace it as a second thought." Dumbledore sucked thoughtfully upon the lemon drop still in his cheek and then clapped his hands and said, "Well, unless there is something most urgent…? No? It has indeed been a very long day for a very old man." He turned, twinkling, to Harry and said, "And I believe Harry has an early morning practice scheduled. Only one week until Gryffindor's first game, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes, of course, sir," Harry said.
"You do plan to win now, don't you, Harry?" he asked, leaning forward and peering over his half moon glasses.
Harry couldn't help a grin and said, "But of course, sir!"
Dumbledore beamed back. "Excellent!"
The rest of the weekend and all of next week was consumed with Quidditch practice at any spare moment the team could pull together. The weather kept growing colder and colder each day and as they practiced well past sundown, they'd hurry back up to the castle and defrost themselves before the fire in the Common Room so they could stop shivering.
Fifth years, Ginny and Zoe were positively running ragged with all their extra OWL revision and homework. Harry had given then all of Wednesday and Thursday morning off from practice so they could catch up on some sleep before the game. Through some miracle, Ron's confidence had been steadily increasing all week as the reserve team scrimmaged them in practices and were soundly beaten each time.
In Thursday night's DA meeting, Harry made everyone who had never before encountered a Dementor first hand take a quick turn to feel the Dementor's effects. He had cajoled a few older members of the DA to have a go with it but not even Hermione had managed to throw off its attack. After the meeting, Luna made Harry endure a long list of reasons she would be supporting both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor equally on Saturday. Harry stopped listening somewhere about the time she mentioned the evolutionary equidistance in ribosomal DNA between both eagles and lions. Harry only recalled that one because he thought DNA was a muggle thing and she then explained she had read about it in some silly muggle entertainment magazine. Harry wondered if she had read it up side down.
The day of the match, Harry was the first to awake in the boy's dorm. He yawned, stretching, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. As he flung the covers back, was hit was a drafty blast of cold air and he quickly stepped into his slippers, hopping to keep his bare feet off the icy stone floor. Wrapping his dressing gown around him, he stepped over to the window and peered out across the lawns to find the green grass covered in a blanket of blindingly white snow.
After showering, changing, and shaking Ron awake, Harry went down to the Common Room to make sure all the team members made it down to breakfast together. In the Great Hall, the wafting smells of breakfast sausages and bacon greeted Harry and team as they entered. The far end of the Gryffindor table was always reserved for the team on game days to eat together and this day was no different. The team was welcomed with a chorus of thumping upon the long table, whoops and whistles.
The chatter in the Hall was high as usual for a game day and he had thought that Abby and Zoe might possibly be apprehensive about the game as it was their first but, to his surprise, neither girl seemed to be all that nervous.
Zoe, who had her pigtails braided with sparkling ribbons of red and gold, was chatting away animatedly with Ginny. "I told you she was charming her robes to get those curves, didn't I? I just knew it. Hey, you get those books checked out from the library for Potions, Gin?"
Ginny made a face and said, "Nah, I went last night for them and all were checked out. Figures—first real assignment we get that allows us into the Restricted Section and I don't even get a chance to cross that rotten rope."
"Well," Harry said, clearing his voice loudly at looking pointedly at Ginny and then Zoe. "As happy as I am to see you are not overly nervous about our game today, don't forget we need to finish breakfast and get down to the pitch." He wasn't pleased to see neither had the courtesy to hide the fact they rolled their eyes at each other at his admonishment. "Andrew," Harry said, turning to the third year Beater who had played three games last year, "how are you doing?"
He looked a bit green in the face but was slowly putting away a piece of toast and he nodded to Harry, saying, "Oh, I'll be fine."
"Don't worry," Harry said. "You've improved loads since last year. Abby?" Harry asked, looking across at the Angelina's younger sister.
Her face was grim yet determined and as she looked up from her cereal, she met Harry's eyes unwaveringly as she answered, "I'm ready."
Harry nodded. Abby and Andrew were the two youngest and he was confident they would indeed be fine once they got into the air. He looked down the table and saw Katie sighing exasperatedly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was seated beside Ron who had his head cradled in his hands as his elbows were propped upon the table. He didn't seem to be eating; in fact, he barely seemed to be awake. "Ron?" He made no move and Harry saw Katie send him a dark look down the table before she returned to her breakfast.
"Hiya Harry!" Colin and Dennis Creevey chorused as they came into the Great Hall. Dennis was carrying an armful of parchment rolls and Colin was balancing a large, plain, brown box that was twice as wide as he was.
"What's in the box?" Ginny asked, eyeing it warily.
Colin and Dennis exchanged wide-mouthed grins and Colin was about to lift the lid of the box when a wand was sharply whacked upon his hand and remained upon the box top. "Potter," McGonagall's clipped and stern voice snapped. She eyed the box and then looked back at Harry. Harry scrambled up from his seat and over to his Head of House. "It seems," she said in a voice that sounded like thinly veiled exasperation, "that Misters Fred and George Weasley have decided to show up early for today's match. This box was a gift from them. I don't have to guess, Potter, what it is likely to all contain. I'm holding you responsible for making sure none are set off within the castle corridors or common areas. Mister Filch is lobbying to ban all of the Weasleys' products as it is. I'm sure you can appreciate how that would hurt their sales."
"Oh, er, sure. I understand, Professor," Harry said, nodding and knowing full well that another full set of Wildfire Whizbangs whirring all about the castle would indeed send Filch off into hyperventilating rants about wishing he could have whipped them and had his way with them when he had the chance.
"Excellent," McGonagall said. Her stern gaze lingered and then her lips curled up ever so slightly and she said, "Now, good luck and do catch the Snitch quickly today, it's positively frigid out there."
Harry turned to Colin and Dennis, who had been listening, and said, "Did you hear that? No wild fireworks or anything during the game. Save it for after we win—got it?"
"Sure thing, Harry!" Colin said, saluting. "We'll get them passed around and make sure everyone knows. Guess what? We searched in the library for all your game stats, Harry and we made copies so we have stuff to talk about during our commentary." Harry's stomach sank at the reminder that Colin and Dennis Creevey were the commentators this year.
"Yeah," Dennis said, "we thought we were too dull last game. Didn't have much pizzazz, you know?"
"Great," Harry said, thinking he at least had his wand on him and could cast a Silencing Charm on them if it got too bad.
As the rest of the team finished eating, Harry sent them down to the pitch to warm up. He gestured for Katie to go on ahead and he hung back to wait for the despondent Ron to leave the table. "Ron?" Harry asked. "Are you going to be alright?" Harry couldn't figure out what, besides nerves, had Ron in this state. He had been fairly fine yesterday in practice and seemed almost to have been looking forward to the match even as of last night. "Did something happen this morning, Ron?" Harry asked as they walked through the Entrance Hall.
Ron was walking listlessly and said, "I'm the team's weak spot, aren't I, Harry? You only let me on the team because I'm your friend. I stink."
"What?" Where the hell was all this suddenly coming from?
"I heard Cho this morning saying their plan is to exploit our weakness. I'm the weakness!" he wailed.
"Ron!" Harry said sternly. "Get—a—grip." Harry stopped, turned and grabbed for both of his shoulders to shake some sense into Ron. "Get a grip!" he shouted, staring into Ron's lost eyes, which then snapped open.
"I'm fine, no, I'm fine," Ron said; his eyes were blinking rapidly and he looked like he'd been shocked awake. Ron ran one hand down the other arm of his maroon and gold jumper and stepped backwards. "I'm fine. It's just, you know…I'm fine."
To Harry's surprise, Ron actually sounded the best he had all morning. "You're sure?" Ron nodded and straightened himself.
"Okay," Harry said slowly. "Don't worry about Ravenclaw, Ron. They haven't a clue what our Beaters and Chaser can do yet. Besides, I need you to help me." They started walking again down the corridor that would lead to the side exit and towards the pitch. "Listen, remember what we talked about and keep an eye on their Chasers' formations. Direct the Beaters as needed. I'll be too busy keeping an eye out for the Snitch to watch much of the time. And if our own Chasers start to have trouble, call out one of our set plays to get them to regroup. Got it?"
"Right," Ron said with a sharp nod.
As they entered the changing rooms, Hermione was just leaving. "Oh! There you are," she said. "I just charmed your robes to stay warm in the cold. I checked and warming charms upon your gear are allowed. I wanted to ask if you wanted me to charm the gloves I know you both wear but you weren't here. I had already done the others' gloves." She looked worried but Ron was nodding as if to say, "Definitely."
"Oh, good. I already did," she said. "I hope you don't mind."
"No," Harry said, grinning at her. "That's brilliant of you. Thanks."
Hermione beamed and reached up, one hand cupping Harry's cheek, and pulled him down for a quick kiss on the mouth. "Good luck then. Both of you." She sent Ron, who wasn't looking, a smile and then hurriedly left.
In the changing rooms, the rest of the team was already donning their scarlet robes and Harry quickly read the official lineup for Ravenclaw on a slip that Madam Hooch had given him the night before. There were no surprises there and he quickly turned back to lacing up the front of his robe. He pulled on his Seeker gloves then and, giving his Firebolt a perfunctory once over, walked to the head of the room.
The other team members automatically settled down upon the two benches facing him then and quieted. Harry cleared his throat and began, "All right then—"
"Men, women—this is the big one," twin voices called out, entering the room from the back. "The one we've all been waiting for," Fred and George both went on to say amid their own giggles. The Weasley twins, Alicia Spinnet and Oliver Wood had just entered the changing room and were standing together in the back all wearing outrageously garish red and gold pointy wizard hats.
"Harry!?" Oliver cried, striding forward with his eyes wide. He looked Harry up and down and marveled, "You grew…like a foot!" His hand went from his side and up to the top of Harry's head.
"Aren't you playing for Puddlemere now?" Andrew Sloper asked, looking up in awe at Oliver.
"Yeah, but practice isn't until late this afternoon," Oliver said waving it away like it was nothing. "I'm here to watch Gryffindor defend the Quidditch Cup! It's been ours for three straight years!" Oliver said, pounding as fist into his other hand.
"Well, we didn't have Quidditch one of those years," Fred (or George) muttered.
Oliver paid them no heed and began to pace in the front of the team, causing Harry to have to step back to keep from getting run over. "Gryffindor has always been the team to beat! The legacy of Quidditch in our House is one filled with pride and victory!" Oliver cried. The Weasley twins were both clutching their hearts and swelling up their chests dramatically. "A long and honored line of the finest fliers have worn these same robes you now wear and flown to defend the honor and pride of our House!" Oliver clamped his hand on one of Harry's shoulders now and moved him forward as he said, "And here, the youngest Seeker in over a century in all of Hogwarts!" Oliver's voice was bursting with pride. "Who's never failed yet, to win us a game!"
George (or Fred) muttered, "Well, there was that one time—with the Dementors."
But Oliver waved that off and said dismissively, "That one really didn't count."
Harry smiled and tried to prise Oliver's grip from his shoulder and said, "Yes, we, er, need to get ready to take the pitch. Though, thank you, Oliver."
Alicia then snuck up and dragged Oliver back to sit down beside her, the twins, Katie and Abby. "Let Harry get on with his pregame, Oliver," she chided.
"Right," Harry said, retaking his position in front of the team. "Well, I've already told you, we've got a strong team and I think we're going to surprise Ravenclaw today. I don't think they have any clue how strong are Chasers are now and I think they expect our Beaters to not have improved at all since last year. But they haven't a clue." Harry was making it up as he went along and started to think on what Oliver had said earlier. "I know we're the team to beat to this year because I've seen us. Ravenclaw couldn't beat us last year and they won't this year. They haven't a clue that we're playing for more than just a cup or bragging rights. Oliver was right. It is about honor and pride to Gryffindor House. We do have a tradition to uphold that goes beyond the title of Quidditch Cup." Harry recalled being told back when he was a first year that Gryffindor was the winningest team of all the Houses, closely followed by Slytherin. "And we also play for the honor of one recently…lost to us; our former veteran Chaser and captain from last year, Angelina. The team that played alongside her and for Gryffindor for the past six years is here today," he gestured to the back row where they all sat, somber. Harry took a few pacing steps and then, in a strong voice, said, "She gave six years to the tradition of Gryffindor Quidditch and we will honor her memory today with a win!"
Fred and George clapped and whooped as red and gold sparks flew out of the top of each of the garish pointed hats they all wore. The rest of the team stood and gripped their brooms with determination and were led by Katie, her arm slung around Abby, out of the room.
"Like the hats, Harry?" one of the twins asked.
"We gave Colin a whole box of them to spread out to everyone."
"Yeah, we've got them all charmed to this," Fred said, holding out an innocent looking Gryffindor pennant. "When I wave this pennant, all the hats give off the sparks."
Harry warned them about not setting off anything that would interfere with the game as they walked out through a short tunnel towards the pitch.
"We would never interfere with the team!" George cried, a hurt look on his face.
"The pride and honor of Gryffindor!" Fred said, clutching his chest dramatically again.
"Go on you two," Harry said, pushing them out of the way and walking to the front of the tunnel. An icy blast of air hit him and the sound of the crowd cheering and stomping their way up to the raised seats could be heard. "Everyone ready?" he asked, looking back at the team. They all nodded and Ginny was standing beside Ron, both of them looking determined. "We fly out from here," he said. He then turned, mounted his Firebolt and looked back to see everyone else doing the same and falling into a single line. As Harry kicked off and flew off into the wintry air, flying over the snow and over people still walking to the pitch, he remembered Dumbledore's talk about him leading an army. Speeding into the stadium, the wind whipping through his hair and his team following behind, Harry thought, maybe it wasn't such a crazy thought at all.
After a warm up lap where Harry lapped the entire team once before slowing to fly alongside Ron and then a few minutes of warm up where he mainly watched the Ravenclaw team fly about, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and cried, "To the ground! Captains!" to signal the start of the game. Everyone flew to the ground, where the snow had been magically melted from off the green pitch. Harry stepped forward and Madam Hooch said, "Potter, Chang--shake hands!"
Cho stepped forward from behind Michael Corner and, glaring coolly at Harry, quickly grasped and then dropped his hand without much of a shake at all. Harry stepped back and let the Chasers form a half circle around Hooch who then said, "On my whistle—" and as the whistle blew, they all kicked off into the air, Harry rising high, high up and above the others.
"It's Ravenclaw challenging the defending Quidditch Cup champs today," Colin's eager and magically amplified voice called out. "Gryffindor's back and so is the youngest Seeker in over a century, Harry Potter, as captain."
Katie swooped in as the Quaffle was released and took possession, hurling it out to Ginny who was already streaking towards the Ravenclaw goals. Harry was still rising and circling as he watched Corner race to get into position. He then saw Zoe belt a Bludger at Corner, making him duck and falter, which allowed Ginny to pass off to Abby who was waiting in position for the easy score.
"Gryffindor scores! Abby Johnson with an assist from Ginny Weasley who's now a Chaser scores before—who?—oh, Corner, er, could get into position. Ten-nothing Gryffindor!" Dennis cried out. Harry noted, the Creeveys were shouting so loud, they barely needed to be magically amplified. He also noted that as Gryffindor scored, small showers of red and gold sparks could be seen here and there throughout the stands.
As the Ravenclaw Chasers made their way back across the pitch, Katie stole a pass from Goldstein and Gryffindor had another break away. But Colin was busy trying to focus his commentary on Harry. "Harry Potter, questionably banned last year from playing, is back and has never lost a game against Ravenclaw—oh! Twenty to nothing Gryffindor!"
"Katie Bell with the score!" Dennis added.
Harry rolled his eyes at the Creeveys' antics and reversed his circling of the pitch only to find Cho there, blocking him and glaring defiantly. Harry rolled to the right and then to the left and both times she followed, blocking him. "Cho Chang is trying to block Potter for some reason," Colin said and then added conversationally, "They used to go out." Harry pulled up sharply on his broom and looped over backwards before somersaulting over and straightening out to streak past Cho. "Whoa! Did you see that? Harry's off!"
"Where's he going?" Dennis asked, excited. Harry wasn't going anywhere, he was just flying about the pitch and he saw Gryffindor score again, despite neither Creevey mentioning it.
"Harry's on a Firebolt!" Colin said. "That's one of the fastest racing brooms on the market!"
"He's never lost a game on his Firebolt!" Dennis said.
Harry watched the Ravenclaw Chasers close in on Ron and one took a shot at a goal. The Quaffle was batted up by Ron who then rose up and batted it again to Katie, sending the Chasers back across the pitch. Harry whooped and clapped.
"What? Oh! Weasley made a save! Still twenty nothing Gryffindor!"
"Mister Creevey! Focus upon the game!" McGonagall could be heard yelling.
"I'll help!" a familiar voice chimed in. Lee Jordon had joined the stand where the Creeveys were now and his amplified voice had started commentating in his well-known play-by-play style. "Good to see you Professor—wow! Andrew Kirke, a third year Beater returning for Gryffindor sends a Bludger at Taylor and Gryffindor recovers the Quaffle. Bell to Weasley and back to Bell who dodges around Goldstein—fine move there—and passes on to Abigail Johnson—another third year and –oh! She shoots and a fine save by Corner—the first save of the day for Ravenclaw's Corner. He outlets to Taylor and here comes Ravenclaw back down the pitch."
Harry keep circling, speeding up and slowing down to not allow Cho to mark him easily. The score was still twenty nil and Ron had mad two more fine saves. The Ravenclaw Chasers were being hampered severely by Andrew and Zoe who were commandeering the Bludgers so much their own Beaters seemed to barely get to hit them. Harry also could see the Weasley twins, two twin bright red heads covered with those ridiculous red and gold hats, walking about through the stands and, if Harry wasn't mistaken, they were handing out more and more of the hats. This was confirmed when Harry saw the number of red and gold sparks shooting up had greatly increased after Lee had announced another score by Ginny.
Harry could see the breath of all the spectators rising in the cool air. The air upon his face was icy as he flew and the tips of his ears were numb. He had to keep his mouth closed to keep his teeth from getting cold and he kept sniffling from a running nose now. But his robes and gloves kept him warm and besides rosy cheeks, it looked like all the other Gryffindors were faring just fine with the frigid temperature and winds of flying. Ravenclaw, on the other hand, kept dropping the Quaffle and Harry suspected their Beaters inability to control the Bludgers was due to freezing hands.
"It's thirty nothing Gryffindor as Weasley scores her first goal of the day!" Lee said. "Temperatures are frigid here but the Gryffindor team seems oblivious. No signs of the Snitch yet."
"Harry's caught the Snitch in all but one game," Colin chimed in helpfully.
"Is that right?" Lee said conversationally. "Goldstein gets a pick on the pass from Bell to Johnson and fires it ahead—oh no—a Bludger from Kirke knocks the Quaffle down and Ginny Weasley—"
"That's our sister!" Fred and George's now amplified voices yelled.
"—Recovers the Quaffle for Gryffindor! Always been at least two Weasleys on the team for Gryffindor for the past seven years. She fakes a pass and gives a shake to Goldstein—brilliant move! Passes to Johnson and—Oh! Chang flies in to break up the play. Where are those Ravenclaw Beaters?"
"One does wonder," one of the twins said conversationally now.
"Oi! That prat's going to score!" the other twin cried as a Ravenclaw Chaser gave Ron a brilliant fake and then tossed the Quaffle through the lowest hoop for their first score.
"Thirty to ten Gryffindor! A fine move there for the first score against Keeper Weasley," Lee said as McGonagall could be heard trying to tell the twins to take of their Sonorous Charms. "But here comes Bell of Gryffindor with the Quaffle back—dodges a Bludger—rolls and dumps to Johnson and back to Bell, score! Forty to ten Gryffindor. Oh! The pass from Corner is picked and Johnson—no! She flies back around and passes to Bell. Gryffindor regrouping into the Hawkshead formation now with Bell in the lead."
Harry began to look more earnestly for the Snitch as the cold was causing him to lose feeling in his entire face. The metal on his glasses was like ice against his skin and stung. Gryffindor had scored several more times and Ron had only allowed in one other goal. The red and gold sparks that went off every time Gryffindor had a fine play were distracting most probably to only Harry and maybe Cho. Other than the sparks, there had been no glints of gold.
"Johnson rolls to avoid a Bludger and Bell weaves with Weasley--"
"That's our sister!" the twins yelled again.
"--Weasley in the lead and Sorensen belts the Bludger back across at Corner--oh! That had to hurt! And Weasley dumps to Johnson in for the easy score--Foul! Blatching on Taylor who collides with Johnson as she went for the score and that sets up a penalty shot for Gryffindor." Lee was obviously at home running his mouth throughout the game and as the players lined up to wait for Abby's penalty shot, Harry saw Colin and Lee elbowing each other for the best view of the match.
Showers of red and gold sparks were erupting from hats all across the stands now as Fred was waving his pennants and grinning madly. Harry even thought he could see George trying to put a hat on Professor McGonagall's head. As Harry was watching them with amusement, he saw Oliver Wood stand up, furious and yell, "POTTER! Stop floating like a balloon and find the bleeding Snitch!" Harry jerked his broom down and took off, refocusing on the game at hand as the Gryffindor supporters erupted again as Abby scored on her penalty shot.
"Seventy ten Gryffindor!" Dennis's high voice shrieked.
Harry was banking around the far end of the pitch and scanning the ground for a sign of the Snitch. He saw Ron, alone, by the Gryffindor goal posts and grinning away as he clapped and cheered. The game had been largely down on the other end of the pitch now, their Chasers dominating possession of the Quaffle.
Harry streaked past him and rose up, still searching. He passed over Cho who was screaming at her Beaters to stop the Chasers, but the Beaters were yelling back that their hands were frozen to their bats and they couldn't help it if they had no feeling in their fingers. Harry just smirked and reminded himself to thank Hermione properly after the game for their warming charms.
Then, just above Cho, a glimmer of gold appeared and Harry flew in an arc around and, sure enough, he saw the Golden Snitch hovering serenely above Cho as she still screamed, red faced, down at her team. Harry leaned forward upon his Firebolt and let it fly as he accelerated all out towards Cho in the center of the pitch. He was flat upon the handle of his broom with one arm back, ready to snap forth and pluck the Snitch. As the crowd began to shout and point at his speeding approach towards Cho, she looked up and, meeting Harry's eyes, screamed in terrified fear. He could see she hadn't moved out of the way and hoped she'd just stay put. He heard Oliver Wood then, screaming loud enough for his voice to have been magically amplified, and warning him, "DON'T YOU DARE BE A GENTLEMAN, POTTER!!!"
Harry was resolved to get the Snitch and as the front of his broom was inches away from Cho's head, he plunged the nose down and snapped his hand up to pluck the hovering Snitch from just above her head. He descended in a rapid vertical drop downwards, his robes whipping Cho in the face, then spiraled out across the pitch, holding the fluttering Snitch aloft in his hand amid cheers and a great many bursts of red and gold sparks. There were even a few sets of Weasley Wizarding Whizbangles going off now that spelled out, "GO GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry grinned as he completed his lap of the stadium and simply could not contain his laughter to see Professor McGonagall, not even fighting the garish read and gold hat stuffed over her head and being hugged ecstatically by Oliver Wood.
Harry then flew to the ground where six other red blurs were already converging and piling together in a celebratory group hug, quickly being joined by an onslaught of Gryffindors pouring forth from the stands. He was engulfed in the mob as he hit the ground and Ginny and Zoe both jumped up to hug him and squealed deafeningly in both of his ears. Katie hugged him then and he knew from her hiccupping that she was already crying.
"We were brilliant!" Ron cried as Ginny jumped up and down, hugging him. Katie turned to Ron and collapsed in joyful sobs against his chest and Ron, holding her to him without a thought, grinned at Harry. "We're going to win the cup!" he cried as Zoe and Ginny hoisted up Abby onto their shoulders, still squealing gleefully.
Harry saw Alicia, the twins, Lee and Oliver grinning madly and rushing over. Alicia and Katie fell into an embrace and were each bawling, laughing, and bawling some more.
"Harry!" Hermione cried, beaming up at him as she made her way to him and flung her arms around his neck. "Everyone was wonderful! You were wonderful!" she cried and kissed him.
"No," he said, grinning back and spinning around to keep his balance in the melee. "You were wonderful! If we hadn't had those warming charms, we'd have been just as stiff as Ravenclaw. You are brilliant, you know," he murmured as he pulled her waist to him, plunged a hand up into her hair and, pulling her up to his face, plundered her mouth like no was watching.
They fell into a soul-searching kiss that had Harry fighting the need to breath until he heard Oliver gasp, "Merlin! It's true?!" Harry, bright green eyes now darkened by passion, pulled back and Hermione wavered breathlessly on her feet. "I thought the whole thing in the Prophet rag was just cock and bull!" Oliver said, looking between them with wide-eyed astonishment.
Harry grinned sheepishly at him, blushing at bit now at being caught in such an embrace, but still held Hermione close. "Not all of it, mate," he said.
"Party in the tower!" one of the twins called out, setting off a new round of red and gold sparks and another set of Whizbangles.
"Not so fast, Misters Weasley!" McGonagall could be heard. "You're no longer students here, need I remind you?"
They all started to head back to the castle, McGonagall arguing with the twins the whole way that they could not hang around and visit with old school chums for the rest of the day. Harry, his arm around Hermione, brought up the rear of the group, strolling along and feeling quite content until he felt the distinct sizzle of a spell skiving off his robes. He whirled around, his wand whipped out and he and Hermione each erected Shield Spells as they spun around to face the direction of the spell. But beyond the shimmering twin blue shields, he could see a sheepishly smiling and very amused face beneath a short mop of spiky red hair with gold tips. "Tonks!" Harry and Hermione each cried, laughing.
She was standing there as two of her fellow Aurors gave her equally incredulous looks at the audacity it must take to send a spell at an unsuspecting and knowingly trigger-happy wizard like Harry Potter. But Harry and Hermione were each smiling at her and shaking their heads. Hermione got to her first and gave her a tremendous hug. Harry hung back; he saw Dumbledore walking along towards them, just leaving the stadium.
"Sorry, there, Harry," Tonks said contritely as Hermione let her go.
Harry, who had not seen her up at the school since her father had been murdered in the Halloween attacks, pulled her into a hug and said, "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure it's too ordinary to ask you to just yell out, 'Oi, you!' now, isn't it?" She laughed softly and hugged him back.
"Yeah, it is. Hey," she said, pulling back and smiling. "Anyone ever tell you you're a really excellent flier?"
Harry laughed. "Really? You think?"
"Oh!" Hermione said, swatting him. "You're all Mister Modest when it comes to anything else but tell him a he's a good flier and he's all, 'ya think?' You!"
Harry just grinned at her and shrugged, "Well, when it's true…"
They all laughed and Hermione swatted him playfully again. Dumbledore was now approaching them, proudly sporting one of the Weasley's garish read and gold hats; he beamed and said, "A most excellent victory for Gryffindor, Harry! Well done, well done!"
"Thank you, sir."
Dumbledore, smiling, turned and then engaged one of the other young Aurors in conversation. Tonks pulled Harry and Hermione over to the side and said, "It really was an excellent game there today."
"Oh, but how are you?" Hermione implored, searching the normally spriteful face of Tonks.
Tonks shrugged, smiled, scowled a moment and then smiled resignedly. "What can I say?"
"How's your mum?" Harry asked. The last he'd heard she'd still been feeling a bit traumatized by the attack and the loss of her memory.
Tonks sighed and kicked up a spray of snow. She looked up at Harry and shook her head. "She says she's alright, but I know she's not. I just know it!" Her jaw set itself and her fists clenched; Harry could see her clenching her eyes shut and struggling not to scream (he knew that feeling all too well). Her eyes opened and she looked up into his face, "Harry," she said. "Do me a favor?" He nodded once. "Kill that son of a bitch when you find him."
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REMINDER: You can find chapter files, a discussion forum, and other dedicated and outrageously Potter-obsessed readers at my Yahoo group for this fic. There is a link on my bio page to the group. The Yahoo group name is: HP_AoF. Cheers!