Harry went to the library with Hermione and Ron after lessons. Their workload was growing ever larger, and Harry barely had time for anything else. Quiddich tryouts were the coming Saturday, and Gryffindor needed a new player – and hopefully two to replace Kirke and Sloper as well, they were horrible – meaning that Harry had to spend his entire morning on the pitch, plus the first real practice that Professor McGonagall had set for Sunday morning. He had essays set in every class, and he had an Occlumency class with Snape that evening.

The dreams were coming back. He had been sleeping peacefully for two months now, but all of a sudden, it all came back to him. His scar prickled often, and he again felt happiness and anger when Voldemort did. He no longer woke in extreme pain in the nights, finding his friends looking over him, terrified, but he did often dream. No longer about the closed door to the Department of Mysteries, but of other things. He could see Voldemort, he could see him speaking to people, obviously his Death Eaters, but he could not hear what Voldemort was saying. Harry knew better than to wish he could hear what they were saying, but it still intrigued him. Why would he see these things? He was practicing Occlumency now, and he was getting better at it, but these dreams were more powerful. They shot through his brain like electric shocks, pulsating and burning.

This time, Harry was not going to keep it secret. He wouldn't tell Snape; he wouldn't tell Snape anything. He would take it straight to Dumbledore.

He went up to Dumbledore's office on Friday afternoon, after classes were finished. He took out the Marauders Map and checked to make sure Dumbledore was alone in his office; then proceeded down the hallway. "Acid lolly," he said in front of Dumbledore's office, and the gargoyles sprang to life and stepped out of the way.

Harry walked up the winding staircase and knocked on Dumbledore's door.

"Come in, Harry." Dumbledore said, and Harry entered. "Good afternoon, Harry." Dumbledore said, putting down his quill and crossing his hands over his desk. "Please, sit down."

Harry sat down across from him and began to explain his dreams. For once, Harry left naught a detail out of his ramble. He did not want Dumbledore to come to any wrong ends.

Dumbledore sat back when Harry was done. "I see. Well, Harry, unless you have anything else to say or ask, I think we are done here."

Harry sat up, confused. That was it? Dumbledore wasn't going to attempt to explain Harry's dream, to comfort him, or anything? "Er, yes, Professor. Thanks."

Harry walked back to Gryffindor tower deep in thought. So deep in thought, in fact, that he felt himself bump into someone as he walked.

"Sorry about that," he said, rushing to help them pick up their books and pieces of parchment that laid scattered on the floor.

"Two people in the entire hallway, and we had to crash right into each other!" The girl he had hit said.

"Yeah, well, we probably both had a lot on our…" he looked up. "minds. "Hey, Cho."

Cho glanced up at him and looked shocked for a second, then stood up. "Thanks for your help, Harry." She said and rushed down the hall past him.

Harry watched her rush down the hall, a spare sheet of parchment fluttering from her arms. He leaned down and picked it up, scanning it over. It was a Defence Against the Dark Arts essay, with a few mistakes on it, still uncorrected. He decided maybe it would be a good idea to pocket it and give it back to he the next time he saw her. He thought he might be able to help her with it.

At least that meant he knew he would see her sometime soon.

Harry woke early on Saturday morning. He had huge amounts of homework to do, plus the Quiddich tryouts at three o'clock.

When the grandfather clock in Gryffindor tower chimed two o'clock, Harry and Ron went upstairs to get their Quiddich robes, then made their way down to the Quiddich pitch for their meeting before the tryouts started.

Katie was waiting for them there. Kirke and Sloper were both there looking very upset, and Harry knew that Katie had broken the news to them that they could very well be replaced. Ginny joined them moments later, and Katie began.

"Alright," she said, clapping her hands together, "we can have a really good season, I know we can. We didn't have much to work with last year, but hopefully, now that Harry's back, things will look up a bit. Ginny is going to be a Chaser, like we've been practicing, as will I. Ron, you're still Keeper, of course, and I hope you've been doing that practice I assigned you. Kirke, Sloper, you are trying out again, and you better pray that there's no one better than you; though I sincerely home there is someone."

Harry chuckled at the thought of Katie being so harsh at the two boys. They picked up their brooms and went out onto the pitch. There was a group of almost fifteen Gryffindors near them, and they could see groups of Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws scattered around the stadium. He could make out Cho in the small crowd of the Ravenclaw team, and his heart skipped a beat before he was called back to attention by Ron.

"There's a good turnout this year," Ron said enthusiastically, "when I tried out, there were only about five people. Maybe there are some good people here!" He was excited, but Harry could see the second of fear in his eyes. Ron was always very self conscious of his Quiddich skills, and he was afraid that there would be someone who was a better keeper than him; resulting in him getting cut from the team.

"Don't worry," Harry murmured as Katie began to speak to the scared looking group of Gryffindors, "we aren't trying anyone for Keeper. You will be fine."

Ron smiled weakly. "Thanks." He mouthed to Harry, as Katie was now gesturing towards them, and all eyes were on them.

"Okay," Katie said, after a very long winded speech that reminded Harry far too much of Oliver Wood, "let's get started. Anyone trying for Chaser come with Ginny and me, anyone trying for Beater go with Harry and Ron." She glanced at Harry, then continued. "Okay, people, grab a broom from Ginny!" As the crowd moved towards Ginny, Katie jogged over to Harry and Ron. "You guys will be fine. Toss a few balls at them. We don't want to go straight to bludgers, sometimes they're really awful, and then we'll end up in the hospital wing instead of the pitch. After you've made the first cut, get out the bludgers."

Harry nodded, and Katie jogged back over to Ginny, who was finished with the brooms.

"Okay, people," Harry said to the group in front of him and Ron, "er, I guess we'll start by checking out your flying skills. I want you to fly towards the hoops, from the side, and weave through them. Right of the first one, left of the second, right of the third. The direction you are going in will mean you will be flying straight towards the stands. I just want you to tilt and fly straight up it. This will be graded on points," he added, making it up as he went along, "for speed completed, number of obstacles you hit, which is bad, and how close you come to the obstacles, which is good.

"Oh yes," he added, picking up the baseball lying on the ground in front of him and handing it to Ron, "Ron will be at the top of the stands. He will drop this ball as soon as you clear the hoops, so you have to be fast and hit the ball. That's the hardest part. And of course, the most important. If you can't hit the ball that is going in a straight line and can't turn, than I don't know what you will do in a game."

He mounted his broom and turned to Ron. "Do you want to go up there, or should I?"

Ron shrugged. "I'll do it. You know what to look for better than I do." He said, tucking the ball under his arm and pushing off the ground.

"Once you hit the ball, go get it and fly it back up to Ron!" Harry called out to all of them. The nodded in acknowledgment, and Harry took off.

He took mental notes of the numbers pinned to each players back, and had them go in order of those numbers, as he hadn't thought to bring a piece of parchment with him.

Katie, always on top of things, flew over with a clipboard and a quill. "I had them for you, I just forgot to give them to you. Sorry." She said with a grin.

"Thanks." Harry said, turning back to his group, who were now waiting rather impatiently for him. Harry put the whistle that Katie had attached to the clipboard to his mouth, blowing sharply. As soon as he did, starting his timer at exactly the same time, the first person sped off towards the hoops. She Went a little wide on the first one, but recovered. She had to tuck her feet closer to her body to stop herself from hitting the stands as she flew, but she hit the ball with relative ease, aiming it fairly well towards Ron, who had to duck his head back into the stands anyway to avoid getting hit by her feet.

Harry scribbled down notes as there was a scattered applause from the other students. The first applicant flew the ball back to Ron and settled back on the ground to watch everyone else.

The next person was worse. He missed the third hoop, weaving only once, and he was too far from the stands to hit the bal properly, accidentally sending it towards the wall of the stands themselves, which it bounced off of, falling to the ground.

The third was better. He got all of the hoops very closely, and stuck close to the stands, but he was a little slow; he barely made it there in time to hit the ball. Had it actually been a fast moving Bludger, he would have missed it. Once the eight or so applicants had all flown, Harry and Ron met at the top of the stands to discuss. They decided that their test wasn't enough, and decided to take out a few more baseballs to throw at the students.

"Okay," Harry said, hovering just above the ground, "you are going to do this one by one again. Ron and I will be in the stands, and when we blow the whistle, we will start throwing balls at you. We are going to count how many you hit. We don't care about your aim right now; they will be coming too frequently for that. As long as you hit them without sending them straight up in the air so they hit you again, we don't care where they go."

He flew up to the stands and touched down beside Ron. "Ready?" He called out to the first person, who gave him the thumbs up. "Let's get started," he said to Ron, picking up his whistle and giving it a good, hard, blow.

They had fun hurling the balls as hard as the could. They were lucky enough not to knock anyone unconscious, but there were a few close calls and a couple of bad bruises.

"What do you think?" Harry asked Ron when they were done. He rubbed his right arm gingerly. It ached from all the throwing.

"They were lousy," Ron said, "but not that lousy. Number five was brilliant. I don't think he made a mistake that whole time. What's his name and year?"

Harry glanced at his clipboard. "Number five…" he scanned down it. "Jeffrey Johnson." He looked up. "Hey, you think he's related to Angelina?"

Ron squinted down at the group of nervous looking students. "Yeah, they look pretty darn similar. Good family, that one." He mumbled.

Harry grinned. "So is yours, mate. Anyone else you thought was any good? I think I'm leaning towards five, one, seven, and eight. Narrowing it down to half for the second cut sounds good, don't you think?"

Ron nodded. "Seven was good, eight was better. I don't even remember one any more. Let's just get this over with before it gets dark. Hey, did you notice that Kirke and Sloper weren't on our list?"

Harry grinned and nodded. "I did indeed. But fat chance, Ron. We've still got to practice with the real bludgers."

They argued about who should announce the cuts. Neither of them wanted to be the bad guy, and they were arguing about it so much that they finally resolved to make Katie do it, and they dragged her over.

A few tears were shed, and there was a fair bit of cheering from the better half of the crowd.

Harry smiled. He was glad he hadn't needed to go through the tryouts.

An hour and a half later, they did their best to gather up the balls and put them back in the boxes. Katie announced that the final list would be up the next morning, and that they would be expected at practice the next morning. Yes, she did know that practice was at seven o'clock, and yes, she did know that she couldn't expect them to be ready when the didn't know if they were on the team.

"The point is that you are ready for anything. That's part of it. You will go to bed at a reasonable hour, have you things ready for practice, and if your name isn't on the sheet, then you can go back to bed. I will be posting it on my way out, so you'd better be ready to go when it gets put up."

When Harry made it downstairs the next morning, there was already a crowd up. The four Beaters he and Ron had auditioned, plus the three Chasers that he had had nothing to do with.

He wanted to wait, but Ron complained that he was hungry and wanted his breakfast now. Reluctantly, Harry and Ginny followed Ron down to the Great Hall. A few minutes later, Katie strode in, followed by a very happy looking fourth year boy who Harry and Ron now knew as Jeffrey Johnson, and a fourth year and a third year girl, both grinning from ear to ear and looking quite nervous.

Harry beckoned for Johnson to come and sit with them, which he did. "Welcome to Quiddich." He said with a grin. "It's cold and dirty and bloody tiring,"

"but it's a bloody good time." Ginny finished for him.

"Are you by any chance related to Angelina Johnson?" Harry asked.

Jeffrey nodded. "She's my sister. She's four years older than me. We play together in they summer, on our towns intramural team. I've always used my being a Beater as an excuse to aim the bludgers at her."

Ron grinned, and Ginny winced, knowing how Angelina felt, often being the picked on one; though her brothers rarely let her play when she was young.

After a long and gruelling practice, Harry, Ron, Katie, and Ginny traipsed up the hill together.

"Did you see that save I made when Ginny was coming straight at me?" Ron gushed.

"Yeah, it was brilliant," Harry said, grinning, "that barrel roll thing you did, it was great."

Hermione was sitting in the Gryffindor common room when they got back around noon. She had a long piece of parchment dragging on the floor at her feet, which she was scribbling on very quickly.

"What's that you're doing?" Ron asked, eyeing the parchment. "That's not some ridiculously long homework I missed, is it?"

Hermione shook her head, blushing slightly as Harry watched her sign her name and roll up the parchment. "It's a letter to Viktor. I haven't spoken to him since earlier this summer, and I thought I'd say hello."

Ron's mouth fell open. "Hello? That's not hello, that's a novel!"

Hermione blushed more as she tied up the parchment. "May I borrow Hedwig, Harry? I know I can trust her for long journeys."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Herm, she's out. I'll join you up to the Owlry, though. I've got too much energy to sit down."

Ron grinned. "Well, excuse me, Mr. flies-around-not-doing-anything-all-practice, but I am going to fall asleep now." He waved to Harry and Hermione and walked up the stairs to the boys dormitory.

"Er, Hermione," Harry asked sheepishly as they walked down the halls, "I was wondering…"

Hermione sighed dramatically. "Ah yes, the inevitable girl question. I knew there was some reason you wanted to come with me. You're usually dead tired after practice. Well, get out with it."

Harry grinned. "You don't mind?"

Hermione smiled. "What are friends for, if not assuring you that Cho still likes you?"

Harry blushed. "How'd you know I was going to ask that?"

Hermione grinned. "It's obvious, Harry. She's the only real crush you've had, and you didn't go out with her long enough or snog her nearly enough to have had enough of her. and yes, I think she does still like you. She just had a hard year last year. There was a lot of pressure on her, and she mistook you for a venting station, as it were. She forgot that while you wanted desperately to help her, you also wanted to have a real relationship with more than just talking about her dead boyfriend."

"So now you understand boys perfectly too? Ron's right, you should write a book."

Hermione shrugged with a smile, and Harry continued. "That wasn't my real question, though. I was wondering if Cho is still, you know, upset."

"With you, or in general?"

"Both."

Hermione sighed. "I'm honestly not sure, Harry. She's had a hard time, and her friends haven't made it much easier. She and Marietta still aren't talking, as far as I know, but she's still got some people. Oh, and I don't think she spends as much time crying in toilet stalls anymore. I haven't seen her in ages. You should ask Myrtle, though. It's rather likely that she goes in there.

"Myrtle can be dreadful sometimes, but sometimes she's not as bad as the real girls." She shrugged again. "Honestly, Harry, I would say it's up to you. I don't think she's still going out with Michael Corner, she might have figured out that he was a bit of a creep. You could ask Ginny, she might know."

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Hermione. Look, do you mind if I head back? You got it right, I am dead tired."

Hermione smiled. "Bye, Harry." She said with a laugh, as he let out a sigh of relief and hugged her before walking back to the common room.

Cho probably still liked him. That was definitely a good sign. Maybe he'd ask her to the next Hogsmeade weekend: he wasn't really planning on going to any of them, he was supposed to work, but he was sure he could sneak off for one day to go on a date. It probably wasn't such a good idea, because he would be out and about when he didn't need to be, but this was important. After the first one, maybe he could convince Cho that it would be a better idea to stay at Hogwarts.

But he didn't get ahead of himself. He had to ask Cho out first.

He wandered back to the tower and glanced at the notice board to make sure he had gotten the names of the new players correct. There was something else on the board as well.

HOGSMEADE WEEKEND

October 29th

Harry groaned. This meant he was going to have to ask Cho out a lot sooner than he had hoped. In two weeks, in fact.

Hmm… still no reviews… this is ominous… I am frightened… wah.

"We used to laugh at Grandpa when he'd head off and go fishing. But we wouldn't be laughing that evening when he'd come back with some whore he picked up in town."

Sorry I forgot the quote last chapter, here is another one.

"If you saw two guys named Hambone and Flippy, which one would you think liked dolphins the most? I'd say Flippy, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong, though. It's Hambone."

I may have already done that one, but it is still the funniest thing evar. EVAR.

-unolimbo