Chapter 8

Harry ate quickly so that he could make it to the Advanced Magic Seminar on time. Luckily, he had managed to make it through the day without getting into trouble, and he didn't want to start now. He knew he was still on very thin ice with both Isabelle and Sirius. Being late for their class wouldn't go over well. He hurried up the staircase, found Classroom 10-A, and walked inside, looking at the clock. There was ten minutes to spare.

He looked around the classroom, and saw only one other person. Cho Chang. Harry's stomach did a flip-flop. She still looked sad, but was as pretty as ever.

"Hi, Harry," she said.

"Hi," he said back. Real smooth, he thought crossly.

"Um, I just wanted you to know that, well, I don't blame you for what happened to Cedric. I know it wasn't your fault."

"Thanks." They smiled at each other, and began talking. Harry didn't even notice the time, or people coming into the classroom, until he heard the door and windows slam and lock. The class looked around nervously. Isabelle and Sirius were sitting on the desk. Isabelle appeared to be counting heads before she began to speak.

"Good evening, class. Welcome to the Advanced Magic Seminar. I must admit, Professor Black and I picked the majority of the students for this class by faculty recommendation and looking at your transcripts. So, let me call roll so that we can put a face to some of your names. Katie Bell, Hermione Black, Lavender Brown," she paused briefly between each name to look at the student's face, "Cho Chang, Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan, Neville Longbottom, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Harry Potter." She smiled. "And now, the Weasley delegation. Fred, George, Ginny, and Ron. I'm not going to lie to you. This is going to be the most difficult class that you have ever taken, and will ever take, at Hogwarts. Every one of you was selected because you are the most talented witches and wizards at this school. More than that, each of you has been personally affected by Lord Voldemort. Some of you have lost parents, loved ones, or friends. Others of you have met Voldemort personally, and fortunately, lived to tell about it." Ginny looked down at her desk.

"This class will test the limits of both your wizarding talents and emotional strength. We picked you because we have high expectations. Professor Evans and I have been instructed to train you to become the part of our intelligence network, called the Order of the Phoenix. It is a highly secretive society. You may never know who some of the people in the network are. If you remain in this class, it is understood that after you graduate, you are to work for the Order. If anyone finds this unacceptable, please leave now." No one moved. "After this year is over, you will have all of the skills necessary to gather information against Lord Voldemort. Some of you will become Aurors, others will work to compile information so that we have a clear plan of attack. A few of you may infiltrate the Death Eaters' inner circle. In fact, most of the information that we have to base this class on came from one very strategic spy."

"Thank you. Although most of my information is two years old, my sources tell me that the tactics and skills the Death Eaters are using are the same as when I was married to Sergei Remizov. Before we truly begin this class, let me make something clear. Professor Black and I will talk about our experiences, talents and skills, but we will not discuss our personal lives. We wish to keep our family life private, and encourage all of you to do the same. Meaning that all of you need to work together and trust each other, regardless of how you feel about each other personally. You will probably be best friends with people in this room. You will fight with each other, date each other, and maybe marry each other. But, no matter what, when push comes to shove, you need to trust each other. Lord Voldemort's greatest weapon is distrust. When you stop trusting each other, evil can defeat you easily. I have seen it happen before, and I do not want to see it happen to any of you."

"We plan to divide this class into two parts. For the first hour, I will teach you highly advanced Transfiguration. By the end of today's class, you should be able to do this." Sirius removed a ballpoint pen from his pocket that he borrowed from Isabelle, and threw it into the air. While in midflight, the pen changed shape to a tiny pin that no one could see. Suddenly, a large knife landed on the floor, embedding itself into the stone. Thick, blue, acidic goo poured out of the knife's tip, eating away at the floor. The class gasped. "That's the poison pen trick. It's particularly effective and deadly at night." He took out his wand, and pointed it at the knife. The knife immediately turned back into a ballpoint pen, and returned to his outstretched hand.

"Wow," Fred breathed. "I've never seen anything like that in McGonagall's class."

"Probably because we'd all be in the hospital wing within five minutes," Ginny replied.

"Well, now it's your turn to try. Any volunteers?" Sirius couldn't help but smile at the wary looks the class gave each other. "Ok, Neville, why don't you try?"

Neville nervously stood up and took the ballpoint pen out of Sirius' hand. He felt every eye in the classroom looking at him, wondering why he was even here. Why am I here? he thought. Everyone knows that I am almost a squib.

"You are not almost a squib. You are quite a powerful wizard, Neville. Just relax, and concentrate," Isabelle said softly, so that only he could hear.

He jumped. How did Professor Evans know what I was thinking? he thought wildly. Never mind, just focus, he kept repeating to himself. He tossed the pen into the air, where it quickly turned into a tiny pin, and then a knife that slammed into the floor, spilling liquid goo everywhere.

"Amazing," Lee said, obviously impressed.

Neville grinned, and quickly turned the knife back into a pen, and handed it back to Sirius, who was as surprised as anyone else that Neville was successful. Isabelle shot Sirius a triumphant look that plainly said, told you.

"Ok, who's next?" Sirius asked. Thirteen hands shot up in the air. One by one, each student managed to perform the poison pen trick, although Angelina nearly cut Katie's toes off.

"Alright, how about we take a ten minute break before we go on," Isabelle said. "Oh, Neville, can I talk to you during the break?" The class started chattering excitedly about what they had just learned, and started making guesses as to what Professor Evans' lesson was going to be.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Evans?" Neville asked.

She smiled at him. He really favors his father, she thought. Pity he'll never know it. She sighed. "Yes, I wanted to congratulate you on learning the lesson so quickly."

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Also, I was wondering if you could come up to my office one day next week, say, Thursday at seven o'clock?" He nodded. "Great. Ok, y'all, break's up," Isabelle shouted over the din. The class quickly took their seats.

"Professor Black told you earlier that we plan to split the class into two parts. Well, my part is to teach you Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. Unlike Professor Figg or Lupin, I can show you the Dark Arts because I know them."

"Are you a Death Eater?" Padma said in a hushed, scared voice.

Isabelle laughed. "No. I am stupid." The class looked confused. "While I said that I wouldn't discuss my personal life in class, I suppose setting my story straight wouldn't hurt anything. When I married Sergei Remizov, I knew he was the owner of my ballet company. I didn't know he was a Death Eater until later. I am stupid because a trusted friend told me not to marry him, and I did anyway. Anyway, I learned the Dark Arts because Sergei and his Death Eater friends used them every day. But, what I am going to teach you to do isn't technically a Dark Art, although most people consider it one. I am here to teach you wandless magic."

"Um, where did you learn that? American school?" Ron inquired.

"In a manner of speaking. Wow, y'all ask really hard questions to answer without giving personal details." She sighed. "After I went to America, my guardian privately tutored me for two and a half years so that I could become a fully qualified witch. One thing he taught me was wandless magic, not because it was a fun thing to learn, but because it was a necessity. Our wands shared cores, and because of the priori incantantem effect, neither one of us could really perform magic with our wands. Before the school year began, I asked Mr. Ollivander how common it was for a wand to ever meet its mate. He told me that it's far more common than people realize. Wands, by themselves, are just a tool. They are no more magical than a fork, if there is no power behind it. What a wand does is channel its owner's energy into a very narrow beam. The core is the conduit. Using a wand takes far less concentration and talent than going wandless."

"Are you the only witch who can do wandless magic that's not a Death Eater?" Harry asked.

"No, but I am the only witch who can do Dark Spells without a wand."

"Who else can do wandless spells?" Fred asked.

Isabelle looked at Sirius, who shrugged his shoulders. "May as well tell them," he said.

She shut her eyes tightly, thinking. "I'm trying to remember them all. There's me, of course, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, Figg, Lupin, and all of your parents. I'm thinking that's it."

"All of our parents?"

"Yes, Ginny, all of them. Especially yours," she said with a smile.

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. They remembered what happened at the end of their third year, at the Shrieking Shack. When Sirius and Remus were trying to explain what happened when Harry's parents died, they convinced them to listen by saying that they were armed, and Sirius and Remus were not.

"You tricked us," Hermione said in a quiet, angry tone, narrowing her eyes at her father.

"What are you talking about?" Isabelle asked.

"Nothing," Sirius replied quickly, hoping Hermione would drop the subject. She didn't.

"It's not nothing. You lied." The entire class looked at the two of them with interest, including Isabelle, who was completely clueless.

"It wasn't a lie. We'll talk about this later."

"It was a lie by deception, which is the same thing."

"I said later, Gracie," Sirius said through clenched teeth, fuming. They stared each other down for a minute, but Hermione kept her mouth shut. She knew the subject was closed when she heard her nickname.

Isabelle gave them both a funny look. "Anyway, before we begin learning wandless magic, let me demonstrate exactly what y'all could see in a battle against Death Eaters. Let me emphasize that this is the worst case scenario, and I only know five people who can do this. I want all of you to come stand beside the desk during this demonstration."

The students stood up, and huddled around the desk. Isabelle picked up a jar, and released five ants onto the floor. "Engorgio." The ants grew, until they were a foot tall. "Petrificus totalus." The ants froze in motion. Isabelle turned to the class. "This is a very unrealistic example, because the targets are large and not moving. But, I don't want to run the risk of hurting any of you." She held out her left arm, palm up, fingers together. "Avada kedavra," she said quietly. A small green ball formed in her palm, spinning slowly. The ball grew until it was the size of a tennis ball, spinning rapidly. Isabelle turned her hand over, and spread her fingers out. A green beam shot from each of her fingers, hitting all of the ants, killing them instantly. The class gasped in horror.

"Wow," Lee squeaked out.

"That's what I said when I saw it for the first time. Well, that's the worst, so hopefully nothing else you see will shock you." Isabelle took out a stack of books. "We'll begin with simple charms. Tonight y'all will learn wingardium leviosa and incindia."

The students began working on their charms. Most of the class tried wingardium leviosa first, because it was easier, but Hermione seemed focused on setting her book on fire. She was still quite angry. "Incindia," she said, sending five-foot flames into the air.

"Ouch!" Cho exclaimed. Harry's book had accidentally hit her in the head. He turned bright red.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"That's ok," she said, flashing him a brilliant smile. "No worse than a Bludger. See? No permanent damage. If you promise not to catch me on fire, I'll forgive you this once." She winked at him, and turned back to her book.

"Earth to Harry," Ron said impatiently.

"Huh?" he said.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron looked where Harry was staring, and saw Cho. "You still fancy her?"

"Shhh!" Harry hissed. "You're the one still hung up on my cousin." He looked over at Hermione, who was now making her burnt book hit the wall repeatedly.

"Yeah, she's cute when she's mad, isn't she?"

"I'll take your word for it." Harry made a face.

"So, are you going to ask Cho out? There's a Hogsmeade trip right before Halloween."

"Ron, that's in two months."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey Ron, check it out. Your girl's got quite a temper. Sure you fancy her?" Fred teased. Hermione was still making the book hit the wall repeatedly, but now the book was on fire, leaving charcoal marks on the wall.

"What a woman," Ron said admiringly. "Anyway, when are Quiddich tryouts?"

"Why, planning on trying out for keeper?" Lee asked, floating his book three inches above Katie's head. She gave him a mean look.

"Absolutely." They began discussing the upcoming season, and their chances of winning the Quiddich cup.

"Alright, class is over. Please practice between now and then, but only in this classroom, ok? See you next week," Isabelle said. The class gathered their things, and slowly left the room until only Harry, Hermione, Isabelle and Sirius were left.

Sirius had finally had enough of Hermione's temper tantrum. While her anger was justified, her tantrum was not. He conjured up a small rain cloud above her head, which completely drenched her in ice-cold water. She looked up at him, sputtering.

"What? I thought you needed to cool off before you burnt the school down," he said innocently.

"Is it later yet?" she fumed in response.

"In a minute," he replied.

Harry rolled his eyes. This is going to be a very long night, he thought. He looked at his aunt, and could tell she was thinking the exact same thing.

-----

"Hey, Hermione, got a minute?" Harry asked her before he lost his nerve. Because of detention, he had been spending quite a bit of time with her, and she seemed unusually withdrawn. Tonight was the last night of detention, and he figured that if he didn't get a chance to talk to her now, he might never catch her by herself, since Viktor was like an ever-present shadow lately.

"Sure. What's going on?" She turned to go to Gryffindor tower, but Harry pulled her into an empty classroom instead.

"That's what I was going to ask you."

"I don't know what you mean," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"Yes, you do. You haven't been at meals, you've spent all of your spare time either with Viktor or the library, and you barely talk to either Ron or I anymore. What's wrong with you?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not supposed to know. But, I do. Apparently I'm the last person at Hogwarts to find out. And, I don't know what to think about it, so I'm trying not to, ok?"

"Not supposed to know what? Hermione, you're not making any sense."

"Why are you bugging me?"

"Because I miss being able to copy your homework."

"How are you ever going to learn if you don't do the work yourself?" They laughed. "It's not something you can really talk about with a guy."

"Try me."

"Fine." She sighed. "You know your first night of detention?"

"Yeah."

"And how Ron and I got into a fight, and I went to my dorm room?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I felt really bad about snapping at him. It wasn't his fault that I was in a sensitive mood, and I came downstairs to apologize to him. But, I didn't make it downstairs, because I heard what you guys were saying."

Harry suddenly understood. "Oh," he said.

"Oh, is right. What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know."

"Thanks. That was really helpful," she said sarcastically.

"I'm only trying to help," Harry said defensively.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just that I never thought about Ron that way. And, well, I'm not sure what I feel for him. He's my best friend. Well, next to you, but you're family, so I'm stuck with you. I don't want to ruin a friendship over a relationship that might not work."

He made a face at her. "Does Viktor know?"

"No. I'm not sure what I feel for Viktor, either. He's a nice guy and everything, but I can't talk to him like I can Ron."

"So, you'd rather be with Ron, then?"

"Yes. No. I don't know, Harry. I just can't make sense of my feelings, that's all. Maybe I'll run off and join a convent."

"Well, that was Sirius' solution to the problem – sending you off to a convent until you were at least twenty-five."

"Did he really say that?"

"Yes, he did."

"Why do I lead such a messed-up life? Why can't I have a normal life, with a normal family, and a normal boyfriend. Is that too much to ask? Instead, I have a bizarre family life, where my father, who, incidently, I didn't know about until a month and a half ago, knows who fancies me before I do!" She dramatically buried her head in her arms.

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" came the muffled reply. "What would you do if you were in my place?"

"First of all, I would be worried if two guys fancied me. See, that made you smile. Second, I wouldn't hide from Ron. Hiding doesn't help anything."

"Then why don't you tell Cho how you feel about her?"

"Ok, I'll make a deal with you. If you start acting human and stop avoiding Ron, I'll ask Cho out. Deal?"

"Deal. But, I'm not going to ask him out or anything. I have my pride."

"Fine."

"We had better get back to the dorm before we get into trouble."

"Hermione, we're prefects. We're allowed to be out after hours, remember?"

"Yeah, that excuse would go a long way with Snape." She imitated Snape's sneering tone. "Well, well, Ms. Black, whatever could be keeping you outside your dormitory at this time of night? And you, Mr. Potter? What a surprise, seeing the two of you together. A nice little family reunion." They started laughing. "Why does he hate us so much?"

"I guess because of our fathers. I don't know. He likes Aunt Isabelle, though. That's the strange thing."

"Yeah. What's up with that?"

"I have no idea."

They quietly crept from through the castle to Gryffindor tower. Before they reached the dormitory staircases, Hermione stopped Harry.

"Thanks for everything," she said, giving him a quick hug.

"No problem. Don't forget our deal."

"I won't," she replied, walking up the stairs.

-----

Harry woke up early, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Last night's conversation with Hermione played through his mind. He couldn't decide whether or not to tell Ron that Hermione knew how he felt about her. On the one hand, it could end their ridiculous behavior around each other. On the other hand, he didn't want to get in the middle of the whole situation. He grabbed a pastry, thinking.

"Why are you up so early?" Hermione yawned, sitting down.

"I could ask you the same question."

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me, either. Besides, I have Quiddich practice this afternoon, and since somebody's not around to help with homework, I have to do it this morning."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I give. What subject?"

"History of Magic."

"How's tomorrow afternoon?"

"Perfect."

"What's tomorrow afternoon?" Ron asked, grabbing a seat beside Harry and helping himself to a chocolate doughnut.

"Uh," Hermione said, her ears turning slightly pink. "We're, uh, going over History of Magic homework. You can come if you want to."

"Great. I can never stay awake in Binns' class, anyway."

"Well, I'm going to the Quiddich pitch, then. See you later."

Harry quickly stood from the table, and headed back to Gryffindor tower to get his broomstick. He didn't think he could stand one more minute of Ron and Hermione stuttering at each other. He rummaged around in his trunk for his broomstick servicing kit. After making sure his Firebolt was in absolute perfect condition, he grabbed it and his father's playbook, and headed to the pitch. When he got there, he saw that most of the Gryffindor team had the same idea. The only problem was that the Ravenclaw team had the pitch for the next half hour, so they had to wait.

"Hey, Harry, is that your dad's playbook?" Fred asked.

"Yep." Harry passed it to Fred, who opened it reverently.

"Wow," he whistled. "George, look at this. We're going to be unstoppable this year." Fred, George, Angelina, Katie, and Harry looked at the book, and began modifying the plays slightly to better suit their team. After about ten minutes, Alicia Spinnet came to the pitch, followed by Lee Jordan.

"Lee, you know you can't be here. This is a closed practice session," Katie reminded him.

"The Gryffindor practice is closed. However, this is still the Ravenclaw practice," he pointed out.

"Fine. So, why are you here?" she asked. He pointed up, at the Ravenclaw team. Katie rolled her eyes. "Figures. Which one are you interested in? Cho?"

"Nope. Her," he said, pointing at a pretty blonde chaser.

"Hilary?" Fred said, wrinkling his nose. "She's such a geek. I mean, look at her."

"Um, Fred? You just might want to look again," George said. Fred looked up, and did a double take.

"What happened to her? I mean, she was such a nerd. And now, she's, well, hot." Angelina gave Fred a sharp elbow to the ribs. "Sorry." He quickly turned back to the playbook, as did everyone else, except Lee, who was focused on a certain Ravenclaw chaser. Twenty minutes later, the Ravenclaw team finished up their practice, and left the pitch.

"Well, that's my cue to leave," Lee said, grinning.

Charlie walked up to the team as Lee was leaving. "Why is he in such a good mood?" he asked.

"He fancies Hilary Jones, the Ravenclaw chaser. I think he's planning on asking her to go on a walk or something," Alicia explained.

"Oh. She's in my class. Really nice girl," Charlie said.

"Then I feel sorry for her," George mumbled.

"So, Charlie, here to help the old team?" Angelina asked, smiling. "Everyone will be jealous that we're getting coaching from the legendary seeker Charlie Weasley."

He flushed a deep scarlet. "Definitely Fred's type of girl, all right," he muttered under his breath. "Yep," he said, louder, so that everyone could hear. "I'm not trying to take over your practice, or anything, but you really should pick a captain. Otherwise, this practice will go nowhere, fast."

Harry considered his words, and looked around. Other than himself, the rest of the team were all seventh-years. Any one of them would make a good captain. How were they supposed to pick one? No one said anything for a minute, so Harry decided to break the silence.

"Well, I think that Fred and George would make good captains," he said.

"Which one?" Alicia said, slightly confused.

"Both of them. Why not? They're like one mind, anyway, and they're good leaders," Harry explained.

"True," Katie said slowly. "I think that's a good idea, Harry."

"Me, too," said Alicia.

"Me, too," said Angelina. "What do you think, Fred?"

He grinned. "I think I could follow in Oliver's footsteps. How about you, George?" Everyone else groaned, thinking about Oliver Wood's grueling practice sessions in all types of unforgiving weather.

"Sure," George replied. "As your new co-captain, I think we should stop bloody talking and start practicing." Everyone laughed at his mock serious expression.

"Yeah, let's try some of these new plays," Fred said. "The offensive ones, anyway. We can't do the defensive ones until we have keeper tryouts."

"When do you want to do that?" Katie asked.

"How about Wednesday and Thursday? I think that gives enough time to give notice for whoever wants to try out, and then whoever makes it can start practicing next weekend," George proposed.

"Fine," the team replied.

Harry handed the playbook over to Charlie, who started making diagrams for various plays in Angelina's Muggle Studies notebook. After working out five offensive plays, Fred and George found the box with the Quiddich balls, and released them. The team became so focused on practice that no one noticed that they had a visitor until she had practically screamed herself hoarse.

"Excuse me? Harry!" He stopped midflight. Alicia nearly ran into him, but everyone else kept playing, oblivious. Harry flew down to where Fleur was standing.

"Hey, Fleur. I mean, Professor Delacour."

Charlie looked down at Fleur, and completely lost his concentration. Before he knew what was happening, he fell off his broomstick, landing right in front of her. Angelina gasped in horror.

"What happened?" Fred asked her.

"Well, Harry started talking to Professor Delacour, and Charlie saw them. And then he fell off his broomstick," she explained.

Fred looked at George. Identical evil grins spread across their faces, as if Christmas had come early. "First Ron, and now this. George, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Absolutely." They quickly flew down, so that they wouldn't miss a humiliating moment.

By this time, Fleur had rushed to Charlie's side. "Are you alright?" she asked, kneeling beside him.

"Huh? Yeah," he mumbled. He was completely entranced by her, until two smirking faces appeared behind her.

"So, Charlie, what happened there?" George teased.

"Yeah, what could possibly have distracted you to the point of falling off your broomstick?" Fred added. He gave them murderous looks, but they innocently smiled back.

"Should you go to the hospital wing?" Fleur asked, concerned.

Charlie finally found his tongue. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I've taken worse falls in Romania working with the dragons."

A spark of recognition flashed across Fleur's face. "Are you the dragon-handler from the Tri-Wizard tournament?"

"I am. I remember you did quite well on that task."

"You are too kind. Harry was much better." She smiled at Harry. "Which reminds me of why I'm here. Have you seen your aunt? I wanted to ask about taking private ballet lessons from her, but I can't find her anywhere."

"Try the Muggle Studies lab. She usually goes there on Saturdays with Professor Lupin to watch James Bond movies," Harry said.

"What's James Bond?" Katie asked.

"An English spy. There's a ton of movies about him out. Aunt Isabelle and Professor Lupin like to watch them to bet on how many women Bond will hook up with in one movie. They're trying to get through the Bond movies so they can watch something else called Austin Powers, which is a parody of Bond." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Thanks," Fleur said, standing up. "Would you mind if I checked on you later to make sure you're alright, Professor Weasley?"

"Not at all. And, call me Charlie," he said, turning bright red.

"Ok, see you later then, Charlie." She smiled, and walked off the Quiddich pitch.

"Call me Charlie," Fred imitated, in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up, Fred."

"Yeah, Charlie, better go get pretty for when Professor Delacour comes to check on you. Try not to fall down in front of her this time," George added.

"You shut up, too, George." Now I know how Ron feels, he thought.

Harry looked at the rest of the team and shrugged his shoulders. It was quite obvious that Quiddich practice was over, by the looks on the Weasley brothers' faces. Oh, well, he thought. I have to do Divination homework, anyway.

-----

"Charlie did what?" Ron said, laughing. Harry, Fred and George found Ron in the common room after practice, and wasted no time telling him what happened.

"Yeah, it was priceless," Fred said.

"Wonder if he's going to start seeing Professor Delacour," George mused.

"Her? With our brother? Please," Ron snorted. "So, tryouts are Wednesday?"

"And Thursday," Harry reminded him.

"Remind me to borrow Charlie's broomstick. I don't have a ghost of a chance without it."

Between classes and Quiddich practice, the week flew by. Harry and the rest of the team stood on the Quiddich pitch Wednesday afternoon surveying a group of would-be keepers. One by one, Angelina, Katie and Alicia put each person through an exhausting tryout. Several third-years and one fourth-year girl showed potential, but no one was quite up to the caliber of the rest of the team.

Finally, it was Ron's turn. He nervously took his position in front of the goal, knowing that the team would be much rougher on him because he was either related to or close friends with almost every member of the team. He knew that he had to be the best in order to even have a shot at the position. The chasers started taking their best shots at him, but he deflected everything they threw at him. Finally, they grew frustrated, and began running actual plays against him, but no one could score a goal against him. Harry was amazed. He knew that Ron was a fair keeper, but he didn't know that he was that good. He looked at Fred and George, and could tell that they were thinking the same thing. After twenty minutes, the chasers finally gave up and returned to the ground.

"Well, that's it for today. Thanks for coming, everybody," Fred said to the crowd. He turned to his brother. "Ron, how did you learn to play like that?"

"Years of practice," he replied with a self-conscious smile.

Although more people turned out for the Thursday tryouts, no one was half as good as Ron, and the entire team knew it. After tryouts were over, it took all of thirty seconds for them to decide on a keeper. They packed up their gear, and headed back to the common room to throw themselves a small party for making it through tryouts. When they walked in, Ron was sitting at the fire, working out a Divination chart. Rather, he was doing a good job at making one up.

"I am so glad that's over," Katie said, falling into chair.

"Me, too. Now we can concentrate on winning the Quiddich cup," Alicia replied, stretching out across the floor.

"Where are Fred and George? It doesn't usually take them this long to nick food," Harry complained. Tryouts had lasted much longer than they had expected, and they had missed dinner. Five minutes later, they appeared with a ton of food, which was attacked quickly.

"Hey, Ron," George mumbled through a mouthful of food. "You think Charlie would let you borrow his broomstick tomorrow?"

"Sure. Why?" he asked, not looking up from his chart.

"Because you'll need it for practice," Harry said, smiling.

Ron looked up, surprised. "What?"

"Yep. Welcome to the team," Angelina told him.

Ron just smiled. All of his hard work over the summer with Charlie had paid off. He reached for a sandwich, and started talking about strategies with the rest of the team until midnight, Divination homework completely forgotten.

-----

Across the castle, a very nervous Neville Longbottom timidly knocked on Isabelle's office door. She hollered for him to come in, and he quietly walked in her office. He sat down in the chair closest to her desk, and looked down at his hands.

"Good evening, Neville," she said kindly. His face was an ashen white, as if he was expecting to be punished for some unnamed mistake.

"Good evening," he managed to mutter back.

"I can't help but tell that you're having a little trouble in my Potions class. But, you're doing just fine in my Muggle Studies and seminar classes. Can you tell me what's going on?"

Neville thought carefully before he spoke. Although he knew that he had no reason to trust this woman, there was just something about her that put him at ease. But, at ease or not, he refused to discuss painful subjects, so he avoided the question.

"No. I guess I'm just bad at Potions," he said.

Isabelle narrowed her eyes slightly as she studied Neville. He found her piercing stare unnerving, as if she could see right through him to his soul. After thirty seconds, she folded her hands together on her desk, and stared him straight in the eye.

"That could be true," she shrugged. "You could come by it honestly. Poor marks in Potions class is what kept your father from being Head Boy, I'm told."

His eyes widened. "You knew my father?"

"Yes, and your mother, too."

"How?" Never, ever had Neville asked anyone about his parents. He didn't really know why he was asking now, other than sheer curiosity. That, and no one had ever brought up the subject of his parents before now.

"Well, the summer after you were born was when my family split into two to try to avoid Lord Voldemort. I had just turned sixteen, and Hermione was thirteen months old. Sirius didn't want to leave us alone all day, so he would take us to the office. That way, I could see James and give him letters for Lily." She sighed. "Anyway, your mother would pick us up and we would go over your house for the day. You and Hermione would play, and I usually talked to your mother. Your grandmother would come over often. She was such a fun lady. How is she?"

"Fine. I wondered why she asked about you in her last letter."

"Did she?" Isabelle smiled broadly. "Maybe I'll write her a letter, then. She's only hard on you because she knows what potential you have."

"Why bother? So I can end up like my parents?" Neville said bitterly.

"Pretending to be less than what you are isn't going to make your problems go away. Your parents were attacked because some Death Eater found out that your mother watched Hermione and I. When they thought that Sirius was Lord Voldemort's second-in-command, they thought that your parents would know where the Dark Lord was."

"So, that's why it happened."

"That's why. It had nothing to do with talent. It had to do with who your parents knew. Trust me, I know a thing or two about your life being messed up because of what happens to other people. Or the choices other people make." Her voice trailed off, as she looked out the window. She looked back at Neville. "But, we can't change what happens to us sometimes. We can only change the way we react to it. Do you really think pretending to be a mediocre wizard so that Death Eaters won't target you is a good way to deal with what happened to your parents?"

He sat, thinking. "No, I don't."

"Me, either. So, I have a proposal for you. If you want to catch up with the rest of your class, I would be willing to tutor you. I had a tutor when I was about your age, so don't feel embarrassed about needing help. But, I'll only help you if you're willing to deal with your problems. Think about it, and let me know, ok?"

Neville stood up, and turned to walk out the door. Right before leaving, he turned back around with a determined look on his face. "When can you start tutoring me?"

"How about tomorrow afternoon, after Muggle Studies class?"

"That's fine with me," he replied, walking out of the office.

"See you then," Isabelle said, closing the door.