Patchcat, Mrs. SakuraPotter – You asked for it, here it is! Thanks for reading, keep reviewing!

Child-of-Scorpio – Yes. Brittany Spears IS evil. And so am I… bwahahahahaha!

Shahrezad1 – Yeah, I don't imagine Draco was too terribly upset at the results of Charms class. (rolling eyes) After all, he's a guy, and lets face it, guys are rather fond of Brittany. For OBVIOUS reasons. Sheesh. Anywhoo. I think it's time to get a little darker, don't you?

HermioneGranger – Shakespeare? My dear, you flatter me! (beaming) Er, don't let that stop you, however… lol. At any rate, I will do my very best to keep the chapters at their very best. Also, if I start getting bogged down in real life and aren't posting fast enough, there are two prequels to this story: "Hidden Intents" (Snape-OC), and "Undercurrents" (Draco-OC). Each will stand alone, but they all do fit together rather nicely, in my opinion.

AN: A little short, but it was time to get this plot moving. Lets see if you can guess where this little tale is headed…

Chapter 5

Harry was comfortably ensconced in one of the common room chairs, Charms book in hand as he perused the index for more on camouflage charms, when Ron came bursting through the portrait door.

"Harry!" his friend hollered as he dashed for the dorm stairs, completely missing the fact that the person in question was ten feet away. "Harry, mate, get down here, they're posting Quiddich captains!"

"Ron, I'm right here," Harry said mildly as he set his book down. His heart was starting to speed up, despite his efforts to stay calm. After all, Ron had enough excitement going for the both of them. Quiddich! It made his blood sing like nothing else… well, almost nothing else, he silently admitted, refusing to let his eyes wander to a certain corner of the room.

Ron whipped about, spotted Harry, and was on him like Crookshanks with a dustbunny. "Come on, come ON!" Ron barked as Harry was literally dragged out the portrait hole and down the stairs. "Merlin, you'd think you had no interest in this at all."

"Well, I…" was about all Harry was able to say before he was hurled into a mass of fellow quiddich players, who upon seeing him started to holler and thump Harry on the back, practically knocking the wind out of him. Twenty people or so, all 'patting' you on the back carried quite a bit of force, Harry found as he staggered about.

He managed to make it up to the announcement board where Madam Hooch had posted the Captaincies, and stared. Holy hell, he thought blankly.

There was yet another heavy thump on his back, this time from Ron as he whooped with glee. "Well done, mate, I knew you'd get it!" his friend grinned. "Oi, Gryffindors, lets give the Captain his due, eh?"

Harry yelped and laughed out loud as Ron and someone else, maybe Seamus, hoisted him up onto their shoulders and started parading him around the hallway. "Pot-TER, Pot-TER, Pot-TER…" they started chanting and Harry couldn't help but grin as he hung on for dear life, praying he wouldn't get dropped and his head cracked against the floor, ending the season before it started.

Nearly every team and its members were there, checking out the postings, and Harry couldn't help but smirk at the Slytherins who stood off to the side, away from the rest of the laughing mass of players from the other three houses. They just glowered and he gave them a cheerful two fingered salute, before grabbing back on to Ron's shoulder.

His grinning eyes then swept over the rest of the crowd, feeling a rush of affection. His team, the other players… it was something special this game. It never failed to make his heart lift and his mind clear.

And then a certain redheaded chaser caught his eyes from the other side of the room, where she was beaming with pleasure and pride. "Congratulations," she mouthed at him, and Harry couldn't stop himself from beaming back at her. Forget a careful distance, this was quiddich! And he'd just made captain! And then she winked and blew a kiss at him, and he could literally feel that butterfly motion land against his cheek. His face reddened, despite his best efforts, and he had to force himself to look away.

Fortunately for Harry, Seamus happened to miss a step at that moment and he and his bearers came crashing down in one massive heaping tangle of arms and legs, that was further exacerbated when some genius decided that every one should pile on. As Harry disappeared beneath a pile of grinning, shouting players he was laughing out loud.

$$$$$$$$$$

Ginny was grinning still as she curled up on her bed with her Defense book. She hadn't seem smiles that big out of Harry since before Sirius died. The boy did love his quiddich, she thought, once again picturing the look on his face as Ron and Seamus had hoisted him into the air and started parading him around. For a moment there, he'd been just another laughing, exhuberant seventeen-year old.

Cara came waltzing in at that point, finally restored to her regular appearance instead of her earlier blonde-ness. "Ginny, darling, I completely forgive you for the whole Brittany Spears thing," her best friend announced.

Ginny smirked as Cara dropped down on her own bed with a luxurious sigh. 'I take it certain parties were, ah, intrigued by your temporary look?"

She could see the smug smile from all the way across the room, it was so big. "You could say that," Cara said, and then giggled. "Better yet, was when it finally wore off." She sighed, big and satisfied. "It's always nice to know he likes the real me best."

Ginny smiled as well, this time a wistful one. Would Harry like her better if she was blonde? More slender in the waist? Bigger curves up top? She gave her head a shake. Stop it, she admonished herself, looking back down at the book in her lap. It's not your looks keeping the damn idiot away.

She was suddenly unable to concentrate on the reading assignment, so while Cara lay on her bed and hummed, Ginny tossed the textbook aside and instead pulled her 'Harry' notebook out of her bedside table. She skimmed pages, reading notes she'd made to herself, comments he'd let slip over the last year or so.

What was it he'd said a few days ago, when they'd all been so mad at him? Yes, I know a couple of things you don't. And if I told you, it wouldn't do any good. You'd just be that much closer to being someone else I used to know. At least he was admitting he was keeping something from them, she thought with a flash of anger. He'd refused to even acknowledge that last year.

What was it he'd said to Ron that night? You're my best damn friend, Ron. All of you. And you can't help, anyway. Ginny started to frown. We can't help, anyway? She thought. Her brow furrowed, ignoring Cara as she started to warble hideously off tune as she got up and headed for the showers. Ginny flipped pages, scanning them quickly. They couldn't help anyway…

It could have been a few minutes, it could have been an hour, but finally something clicked in Ginny's brain. Her eyes got big. Holy hell…

"Hermione!" she shouted as she scrambled off the bed and dashed for the dormroom door. "Hermione!"

$$$$$$$$$

Harry leaned back against his pillows with a sigh. Well, his evening had shaped up to be quite a nice one, he thought with a grin. Dean had even broken out his supply of special-occasion Limited Edition Butterbeers his father had bought him over the summer. The butterbeer had gone down smooth and cool and he could still taste the sweet flavor lingering on his tongue even now. Harry licked his lips. It was a great was to celebrate, he thought. Far better than the firewhisky he'd shared with Draco last year.

Ron was already in bed, curtains drawn and light snores coming from behind the heavy drapes. Harry smirked. And that was with the muffling charm on his curtains. Harry pitied the poor woman who ended up marrying Ron, she was going to have to get creative to get a good night's sleep. Of course, knowing Hermione she'd have the whole thing figured out after the first night…

Harry stopped that line of though with a grimace. No need to go there. Hermione was practically his sister, it rather grossed him out to contemplate her and Ron together. Not that he was above placing a few small wagers on the outcome, no sirree. He just didn't want to get too specific if he could help it.

Harry yawned and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he'd have to see about setting up a practice schedule and booking the pitch for regular practices… he'd like to leave Hogwarts with his name on the cup, he thought sleepily, it would really be something…

Unknowing, as Harry slipped into slumber, he slipped into an all-too familiar dream…

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The forest. Night. Wolves howling. Harry could feel the icy chill of Dementors as they lurked among the trees. He kept his back against bark as he slipped silently through the trees. He was taking no chances.

The smell of blood, fresh blood, reached his nostrils. Bile rose in his throat and had to be swallowed back down. Who was it, he wondered. So many were missing or dead… there was no way of knowing. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Seamus, Dean… and Ginny. Harry gritted his teeth and kept moving.

The forest was dark and pressing in on him like a living thing as Harry drew near a clearing. There was a blazing light coming from it, a fire, perhaps? He didn't know, and was afraid to see.

He crept forward to see a ring of hooded men in black. Death Eaters. And on their far side, waiting for him… Voldemort.

"No," Harry said, not knowing he was speaking aloud. "This is not the time or place."

Those damn red eyes bored into him as the black figures began to move toward him, closing in. "I choose the time and place, Potter," hissed that evilly compelling voice.

"No!" Harry shouted, pulling his wand out and pointing it at Voldemort, only to have him disappear behind the rapidly closing Death Eaters. "NO!"

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Harry awoke and found himself sitting straight up in bed, breathing heavily. He was in a cold sweat, hands clenched tight enough that he could feel the skin straining over his knuckles. A dream, a dream, he told himself, desperately trying to gain control.

Fearfully, he glanced about at his roommates. All were asleep, the room dark, their breathing even. So he hadn't woken them, this time.

He drew his knees up and rested his forehead against them in the dark, thankful for the night that hid his moment of weakness. Sometimes, he thought wearily, it was all just too much. Sometimes he wished there was someone he could just let it all out too, but always some part jumped in to remind him that he could be signing that person's death warrant. Or worse. He'd seen visions of Death Eater meetings, he knew what could happen before a person died. He'd felt it himself at Voldemort's very hand.

He wrapped his arms about his knees and kept his head down, taking deep breaths, regaining his precious control. Carefully he cleared his mind, picturing himself taking a wet sponge and wiping the slate in his mind perfectly clean. His muscles relaxed one by one as he slowly built the wall back up, brick by brick.

Harry finally laid back against the pillows again. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. He still didn't know that he was seeing the final battle, he told himself. It wasn't the right time or place. It wouldn't be there, the final showdown.

At least, he didn't think so.