Disclaimer: I don't own 'em!
Summary: Harry discovers that there's a silver lining in every cloud, but why does he keep getting sick?
Growing Pains, by Shedoc
Things settled down for a while. Hufflepuff creamed Ravenclaw in an upset win at Quidditch that took the sixth years minds off Harry's display of musical ability to the point that he was forced to take extreme measures to get Ron to shut up about it and pay attention to more important things, mainly by pinning Ron to the nearest flat surface and snogging him senseless. Ron had emerged from the experience rumpled and glowing; he even made Harry promise to do that if his attention ever wandered again.
Towards the end of term, a duelling Tournament was announced, open to all students in fifth year and above. The students would duel each other first, then move on to duel the teachers to decide the Champion of Hogwarts. This was not an unprecedented move, as the Tournament had started way back in Hogwarts History, a way of identifying the most promising students for roles as protectors of the Magical world - something that Hermione told Ron and Harry about at great length over lunch just after the Tournament was announced. Ron and Hermione both intended to enter, and were very enthusiastic about Harry entering as well. He did so reluctantly, and only after spending a lesson listening to Malfoy boast about all the champion duellers in his line.
One reason for his reluctance was his desire to study for the Arithmancy OWL, which was fast approaching. It felt strange to be studying for another OWL exam, especially when Ron and Hermione were studying for the normal end of year exams. Harry and Ginny ended up spending a lot of time together in the library, consuming book after book, revising their notes and generally studying themselves into nervous wrecks. Harry was still working on the structure of Avada Kedavra at night, his need for sleep even less than before. He felt no lack, despite the fact that he was averaging a little less that ten hours a week, and even Ron's clandestine presence in his bed wasn't enough to make him sleep the whole night through. Thankfully Ron was a heavy sleeper and Harry's extremely early morning and late night studying didn't disturb him.
The Day of the Duel - and even Hermione was speaking about it in capital letters - was to be the last Sunday before the Quidditch finals match, between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Slytherin had made an extremely poor showing of it this year, and Malfoy seemed to be on the outs with at least half of his House. Harry wasn't too upset that Malfoy was finding himself isolated; he was more worried about duelling against Ron. If he let the redhead win, then Ron would know and be mighty pissed at what he saw as Harry's condescension to him, and if he beat Ron, then the redhead would be pissed that Harry had shown him up again. Either way, Harry lost.
Ron must have noticed something was wrong, because as the Gryffindors were heading to the Quidditch pitch where the duels would be held, he tugged Harry out of the throng of students and along the back way to the pitch that the team used when in a hurry. Once he was sure they were alone he pinned Harry to the wall and kissed him breathless.
"You fight out there, as hard as you can," Ron growled, gripping the robes Harry wore in both hands, pinning him at the hip with his own, "I expect you to win this thing, lover, no holds barred."
"But…" Harry's protest was cut off by Ron's tongue, which took his breath away once more. Ron's prick was digging into him, and Harry moaned into the wet mouth, pulling Ron closer.
"Win it Harry," the rough whisper absolved him of any guilt or doubt, "I know you can."
"I love you," Harry whispered and Ron chuckled.
"Of course you do. What's not to love?"
Harry sniggered and the redhead let him go, taking his hand instead and hurrying him along the corridor. They caught up with Hermione at the competitors stand and she gave them a strange look, before reaching over and tidying Harry's robes.
"Honestly, Ron, couldn't you control yourself for one minute?" she tsked. Harry blushed and looked at the ground; shocked that Hermione had known about them all along. Ron laughed, not at all fazed, and Harry gave her a sheepish grin. She smiled back, her eyes kind, and nodded once. Professor Dumbledore's voice called for their attention, and they all turned to look.
The Houses would duel in their year groups first, against randomly selected partners, until the House Champion for that year group had been found. They would then duel against the Champions of the other Houses in their year group to find the Champion of that year group. Those Champions would duel against each other in randomly selected pairs until the Student Champion was decided, and then the Student Champion would duel the teachers for the title of Hogwarts Champion.
The fifth years were up first, so the three friends settled down to watch, cheering for the Gryffindors in general and Ginny in particular. It came as no surprise that she emerged as the Gryffindor fifth year Champion, and Ron jumped up and down, cheering like a lunatic, Harry bouncing beside him just as delighted as if she'd been his own sister from birth.
The sixth years were up next, and Harry was paired off against Hermione first, who was a cunning opponent with a flair for the unexpected. She was also an excellent conjurer and Harry soon found himself dodging animated furniture and shock spells. He managed to turn one of the kitchen chairs she'd conjured against her and froze her in place, hastily conjuring a cushion for her to land on as her arms and legs snapped together and she went toppling off the platform.
The students in the stands were cheering noisily and Harry caught his breath, freeing Hermione and banishing the furniture. He helped her up and she grinned at him.
"Nice cushion. Thanks," she rubbed her elbow where the chair had banged it and Harry examined it anxiously, before looking around. Ron had beaten Seamus, and Neville had bested Dean. Lavender had managed to overcome Parvati, and was apologising to her angry friend.
In the second round Harry was facing Lavender, and disarmed her quickly while she tried to set up a complex freezing spell. Ron and Neville were hard at it, the redhead, ducking and diving shamelessly while Neville cast spell after spell at him. Harry was impressed at the rapid delivery that Neville was able to use, especially now that he had a new wand. Ron managed to get off a confusion charm that lasted long enough for him to disarm Neville, and Harry grinned at both his friends.
"You nearly had him Neville," Harry complimented the other teen and Neville grinned.
"I'm surprised it worked," he admitted, "I didn't want Ron to have time to get a strategy in place, what with all the chess he plays."
Ron grinned, breathing hard, and clapped Neville on the back. Harry looked around to see who was in the last round for House Champion in the other Houses, and groaned when he spotted Malfoy's smug little smirk. The noise from the stands was incredible and Harry did his best to put it in the back of his mind.
He faced Ron next, and Professor McGonagal warned them both that she wanted a good clean fight. She'd obviously heard about their skirmishes in Defence Against the Dark Arts, which was concentrating one lesson a week in duelling practices. Harry and Ron tended to fight rough, simply because they knew each other so well that the element of surprise was their only weapon.
Ron made the first move, and events blurred for Harry into a wild whirl of movement and casting, until he stood alone on the platform, Ron lying on a pillow on the grass, his arms and legs bound with magical rope.
"That will do, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagal smiled and Harry nodded, sucking in a deep breath and letting Ron loose.
"Thanks for the cushion, I'd have hit the ground pretty hard if you hadn't put it there," Ron muttered as Harry hauled him up, unable to hide the anxiety in his eyes.
"You ok?" the question slipped out, and Ron grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulder in a friendly manner.
"Fine," the redhead reassured him, "But if it will make you feel better I'll take it out of your hide later in bed."
"Is that a promise or a threat?" Harry spluttered, and they headed for the stands. A glance behind showed that Malfoy had bested his opponent and Harry sighed. Knowing his luck he'd get stuck duelling the blonde pest for the year level Champion title, and the little prat wouldn't play nicely. Ginny enveloped him in a hug, still jumping up and down and shrieking congratulations. Harry winced, thinking she might have burst an eardrum.
"Easy there!" Ron peeled her off, "Let the man breathe!"
Ginny swatted at her brother and they settled down to watch the seventh year's battle for their year champion. Harry couldn't recall the name of the girl that finally won for Gryffindor, as he tended to pay more attention to his year and the years below than to the older students. The Head Girl was in Gryffindor this year, but she didn't make it past the first round, much to Hermione's obvious surprise.
"Good luck, you two," Ron said as Ginny and Harry headed for the ground again, and Ginny waved back confidently.
"Kick arse, sis," Harry gave Ginny a self-conscious hug; rewarded by the smile she gave him in reply. He was paired against Susan Bones from Hufflepuff and she grinned at him nervously.
"Good luck Harry," she murmured as they brought their wands into position.
"And you, Susan," he replied courteously, disarming her the moment they started. With her wand in his hand he cast a containment spell, forming a shining blue wall around her that sparked when she touched it. This was advanced magic, and he'd only read about it in books, but the chance to try it out was too good to pass up. Professor Sprout called the match, and Harry took the spell down, handing the wand back to Susan gravely. She chuckled at him and headed back to the stands, seemingly unconcerned that the duel had lasted only seconds. A glance at the stands showed that Ron, Hermione and Neville were jumping up and down and he gave them a little wave, turning to watch Ginny dispatch her Slytherin opponent with a combination of a stunner and her dreaded bat bogey hex. He cheered her on and she grinned and waved to him. She'd be facing Luna Lovegood next, for the title of Champion for her year.
"How touching," Malfoy sneered and Harry rolled his eyes before turning to face the blonde prefect. His hair was a little messier than usual, and there was a smudge on one cheek. It looked like Terry Boot wasn't the pushover that Malfoy had assumed. On the other hand, Boot was weaving his way rather drunkenly from the field, with the help of Professor Flitwick.
"Ready when you are, Malfoy," Harry said politely. Professor Snape appeared at the side of their platform, and Harry bit down on the urge to groan in resignation. This was not going to be fun. The Head of Slytherin sneered at Harry and indicated that they should prepare for the duel.
Harry took a leaf out of Neville's book, and started casting spells so quickly that Malfoy had to do a lot of undignified jumping about in order to avoid the spells flying his way. Harry easily shielded himself from the few spells his opponent got off, and managed to trap the blonde in a cold fire spell, quenching it seconds later and disarming his unnerved opponent, sending ropes to bind him in place and following it with the containment spell he'd used on Susan just to be sure. Snape very sourly declared him the winner of that match, and Harry gave the wand he'd caught to the teacher, before removing the shield and ropes from Malfoy.
In the last duel, Harry ended up fighting Ginny, for the title of Student Champion, once she'd defeated the seventh year from Ravenclaw. The fight was a hard one, neither willing to give in. Ginny had a lot of strength in her casting, and was devious to boot. Her size worked in her favour, making her seem less capable than she was. She'd learned a lot from Fred and George, and probably Bill, the family curse breaker. The Weasley boys had a tendency to teach their sister as much as they teased her, which was why she was the top in her year. In the end Harry could only defeat her by conjuring some pretty strong illusions, and while she fought them off hit her with a sneak attack to disarm and restrain her.
"I'll get you for that, Potter," Ginny growled as he helped her up and he grinned sheepishly, brushing her robes down solicitously and escorting her back to the stands.
"Sorry Ginny," he wasn't really, he knew himself well enough to know that his competitive nature would not have been happy with second place. There was to be a break now for lunch, which the House Elves had organised to appear in picnic baskets in the stands. The day had been pretty warm, and sunny so far, but Harry could see a low bank of clouds on the horizon and the wind was picking up.
0o0o0o0o0o0
"So now we watch the teachers duel for the right to defend the title of Champion of Hogwarts, right?" Hermione passed the bottles of pumpkin juice around and Harry drank gratefully, accepting the sandwich that Ron shoved his way. There were bags of crisps in the baskets as well as fruit, and he was starving.
"Yes, thank Merlin; I'm exhausted," Harry mumbled through a mouthful, "Ginny wore me out!"
"Flattery will get you nowhere, bro," Ginny warned him, but there was that same light in her eyes that she got when she was teasing Ron, so Harry wasn't too worried. He kind of liked the idea that she was comfortable enough to tease him now, especially in the light of her former crush and the disastrous, life saving kiss at Christmas.
"Who do you think you'll end up duelling Harry?" Neville asked as the number of platforms reduced themselves. McGonagal and Flitwick were pairing off, as were Dumbledore and Snape. Professor Vector was squaring off against Madam Hooch while their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher faced Professor Sprout.
"Dumbledore, of course," Ginny said in an 'isn't that obvious' tone, and Harry shook his head. There was more to duelling than strength - you needed endurance, knowledge, stubbornness and sometimes luck. Dumbledore wasn't the only teacher who had these, and anything could happen.
"Flitwick's a champion dueller from way back, and Snape's got a bone to pick," he spoke up, "It all depends on how determined they are."
The students settled down to cheer for their favourite teachers, with most of Gryffindor cheering their Mistress on. It was a close run thing, but in the end a bit of luck and good reflexes saw Flitwick tied to the platform, with Professor McGonagal standing over him, breathing hard. Madam Hooch had bested Professor Vectra and Professor Sprout had managed to 'plant' their Defence teacher. The former Auror was visibly fuming with impatience as he fought off the grass that was growing all over him. Professor Sprout gave him a moment more and then cancelled the spell, handing his wand back courteously. Snape and Dumbledore were still going at it, and as they watched, Dumbledore managed to stun Snape into submission. Harry was relieved that he wouldn't be facing the irascible Potions Master, and from the look in Ron's eye the redhead felt the same way.
In the next draw, Professor Sprout faced the headmaster, while Madam Hooch took on Professor McGonagal. Gryffindor cheered for their Head of House once more, and the flying instructor was soon overcome. In battle, Minerva McGonagal was quick and precise, pressing every advantage and moving with a speed that was rarely seen in the classroom.
"She's wicked!" Neville gasped as they watched the Professor help her opponent up, "I never knew she could duel like that!"
"Me either!" Hermione looked shocked. There was a huge bang from the other duellists, and Harry looked over in time to see both the Headmaster and Head of Hufflepuff go flying.
"What happened?" Harry asked over the shouts of dismay, but those around him had been watching McGonagal and Hooch. Madam Pomfrey hurried over to check them both out, and pronounced them fine, but unable to duel any further. That left Harry facing his Head of House for the title of Hogwarts Champion.
Ron had looked at him anxiously as Harry got up to go and face his teacher. Professor McGonagal had been given a rest period while Professor Flitwick vanished all the platforms and built a single one for their duel. Professor Sprout and Dumbledore had reappeared to reassure the worried students, thought neither of them looked steady on their feet. They were sitting in the teachers box with the rest of the staff, and Harry had sniggered at the sight of Snape sulking in one corner of the box.
Flitwick was going to oversee the duel, and Harry bowed deeply to his Head of House. She took her Duelling stance, wand drawn back at eye level, other arm extended forward in a shielding position, her weight on her back foot. Harry spread his feet, knees slightly flexed and wand held level at his waist; ready to defend against anything she might send at him. They stood still, eyes glued on each other and Harry felt his senses expand, taking in all the noise and scents and air currents around him, his sight sharpening to take in the posture of his teacher in fine detail. He saw her muscles flex and spun smoothly to one side, the stunning spell missing by a mile as he cast his own spell.
McGonagal leaned back out of its way, and Harry grinned at her with a rather feral expression as time snapped into an unusually hectic pace. Furniture, animals and plants all appeared on the platform as they threw spell after spell at each other, defensive shields and deflectors flaring and crackling around the fast moving opponents. Nothing stayed as it was conjured, the nearest objects to each opponent changing form and shape quickly as they tried to gain the element of surprise.
The Head of House was spry in her movements, preferring not to waste energy with unnecessary frills, and Harry was one continuous fluid motion. He didn't have time to get tired as he battled his way through her impressive defensive and offensive spells, his single minded focus allowing him to finally force a break in her protection and trip her, binding her magically moments later and Summoning her wand to his hand. He banished the furniture that was even now trying to attack him, and then called off the plants he'd conjured to attack his Professor.
"Congratulations Mr Potter," Professor Flitwick announced, "You are the Champion of Hogwarts!"
Harry bowed to the tiny man, and then released his Head of House, helping her up and bowing low over her hand respectfully before handing back her wand. Despite her loss she was smiling at him proudly, and pulled him into a hug that had him spluttering and blushing in surprise.
"Well done, young man. The Marauders would be proud, and so would your mother," McGonagal murmured as she released him and he grinned, flushing in pleasure at the compliment. They were both breathing hard after their efforts and it seemed odd to see his normally neat Head of House so dishevelled due to spells he'd been throwing at her.
"Thanks Professor," he mumbled, and she nodded once.
"Now, don't let the entire House stay up all night," she murmured, tucking her hair back up as they walked towards the cheering Gryffindors, "They've got exams starting the day after tomorrow."
That was tacit approval for the party that would rage in the tower tonight and Harry grinned.
"Yes ma'am."
They reached the stands and Harry was sucked into a screaming, cheering mass of his Housemates. Everyone seemed intent on hugging him or slapping his back. Several of the girls planted a kiss on him and he wasn't so sure that a couple of the boys hadn't as well. Just as he was starting to freak out he got to Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who sucked him into a group hug that also had the advantage of protecting him from the rest of their insane House. Ron copped a sneaky feel and Ginny stole a laughing kiss, as did Hermione. Hands ruffled his hair and then they were moving, heading for the tower and the feast that the house elves had laid out for them.
The common room was simply heaving with people, and the noise level was loud enough to drown out the spring thunderstorm that raged outside, the flashes of lightening that accompanied it fitting into the Weasley Whiz bangs that had made it past Filch's contraband search.
Harry started hunting people off to bed at three in the morning, citing his promise to Professor McGonagal and backed up by the Prefects and Head Girl. Harry was too tired for study tonight and slid into bed after the briefest of showers, asleep before he'd pulled the blankets up and unaware that Ron had snuck in with him until they woke, tangled together the next morning.
0o0o0o0o0o0
The storm that had started on Saturday night raged for the week of exams, rattling the castle in its fist like an angry child. Harry kept as low a profile as possible, after requesting that his House treat him no differently. He took his Arithmancy OWL on Thursday, missing a Potions class to do so.
Snape and the Slytherins had been riding him since the Tournament, though Harry dismissed most of it as sour grapes. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of responding to their jeers, and Snape watched him like a hawk, just itching to take points from Gryffindor for any 'arrogance' or 'trouble making' that Harry might care to display. Being on his best behaviour was tiring, especially when coupled with the intensity of exams, and when Harry woke on Friday he was feeling a little under the weather.
He got through his Herbology exam well enough but his head was swimming by lunch, and rather than risk fainting in the Great Hall, he headed reluctantly for the hospital wing, staggering across the threshold giddily and making it to a bed before he fell.
"Not again Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey sounded upset, and Harry gazed at her blearily as she helped him lie comfortably. His arms and legs didn't seem to belong to him any more and moving them independently was hard work.
"M sorry," he slurred, "bin tired all week. Thort it wuz zams."
"All week?" she clucked and waved her wand. His school robes disappeared, replaced with hospital pyjamas and Harry nodded. It was not a wise thing to do.
"Sorry," he gripped the mattress as it heaved and spun under him and fled gratefully into the still darkness that was crowding the edges of his vision.
0o0o0o0o0o0
When his eyes opened again Molly Weasley was sitting beside his bed, knitting socks. The click of the needles was even paced, soothing, and Harry smiled at her, glad to see the frowsy woman who had mothered him from the moment they met, when she directed the lost boy he'd been onto Platform 9 ¾.
"Hullo," he muttered and pushed up in the bed, feeling drained but not too badly off. Molly dropped her knitting onto his bedside cabinet and sat on his bed, engulfing him in a very motherly hug. He sagged into her warmth, appreciating the touch even more now that Ron had taught him the benefits of hugs and cuddles.
"Harry dear, how do you feel?" she rubbed his back and rocked a little and Harry just snuggled on in, some part of him telling him that this was exactly the right reaction to this touch.
"Better, still a bit tired, but not so…" he trailed off and rested his head on her shoulder, eyes unfocussed as he accepted the comfort she was offering eagerly. Molly sniffed a little and hummed under her breath.
"Was it that bad?" he asked, wondering why she was there. Molly tightened her grip a little and shook her head.
"You were calling for your mother," her voice was hesitant, and Harry tightened his grip in response. His insides were whirling, as were his thoughts, which led to him blurting them out.
"You came?" his voice cracked suspiciously, tears filling his eyes, "I'm sorry, I know you're busy."
"Oh Harry, dear. Shush now, I'm never too busy for you," her voice was also suspiciously wobbly and he let his aching eyes close. If they were a bit damp when she put him back on his pillows she took no notice, and Harry didn't notice her own spiky lashes either.
"Now then," she went on in a brisker tone as the door opened and Madam Pomfrey bustled towards them, "I know that you're emancipated, but I want you to come home dear. We've plenty of room and I'd really like to know that you're eating properly. School ends in three days…"
"It's Tuesday? I missed the weekend? Who won the Cup?" Harry's questions elicited a snort from Madam Pomfrey, who waved her wand over him and then glared until he drank the potion she held out.
"There's nothing wrong with him," she muttered to Molly, "If he's already asking about Quidditch."
"Gryffindor won, Harry, Ron and Ginny were magnificent. They were both worried about you, but I told them to go on and play," Molly answered the question lightly, "You'd settled down for me by then you see, so Ron felt he could leave you."
"Poor Ron, he's been so patient with me," Harry plucked at the blanket over his knee, "He'd make a great Healer, I always feel better when he's with me."
Molly beamed and Madam Pomfrey patted his hand lightly. Harry remembered what Mrs Weasley had been saying, and smiled.
"I'd love to come to the Burrow, if you're sure I won't be in the way. On the condition that you let the Order give you some extra security. I might not like it, but I am a target at the moment, and I don't want to put you in danger."
"Done," Molly gave in so quickly that Harry guessed that Dumbledore had already made some kind of arrangement about the summer for Harry that involved spending time with the Weasley's. He didn't mind this bit of meddling, but if the Headmaster thought that Harry was going to put up with just any old thing…
The doors opened and Harry looked up. Ron was peering in, his school bag still over his shoulder. From the angle of the light, it was afternoon, which meant that classes must be over if his boyfriend was coming to see him while his mother was in the building. Not even Ron had enough front to ditch school while Molly Weasley was in the building.
"Harry!" his face lit up and Harry grinned. Madam Pomfrey was heading back to her office and the moment that the door closed behind her Ron had Harry in his arms, holding him close.
"Hi Ron," Harry sucked in a big lungful of Ron's comforting smell, "Sorry."
"I'm not mad," Ron promised, seeming to understand that Harry was apologising for all sorts of things, not just being sick, but needing to borrow his boyfriends mother, and missing the match, and making him worry. Molly made an approving sound and Ron kissed the side of Harry's neck discreetly before pulling back.
Harry smiled and settled on the pillows again while Ron hopped up to sit by his feet and start recounting the match with colourful detail. Some things were just too important to miss, and Quidditch was one of them.
0o0o0o0o0o0