Even Harry's Occlumency lesson with Snape was different that day – for some reason, Harry had no trouble blocking Snape out. For a while, he thought that perhaps the Potions master had decided to go easy on him, but then realized that no such event was ever likely.
He had just managed to squeeze Snape out of a particularly nasty memory of Dudley's taunting, in what had to be record time, when Snape grunted in annoyance, and sat abruptly behind his desk, and seized a stack of parchment for grading.
"Fine," Snape said, grudgingly, "Next week, then."
Harry knew that meant he'd done well – extraordinarily well. No, it didn't seem as though Snape were trying to go easy on him…why was it suddenly so easy to block him out? Harry was beginning to get the distinct impression that that the entire school was on some kind of heightened alert.
"Finished already?" Hermione asked, when he stepped into the common room. She was seated on a couch surrounded by papers on either side, while Ron and Ginny were studying in an armchair on either side of her – it seemed they were all doing work for the Order, rather than their homework – Harry had never seen Ron work so hard on regular homework.
"Yeah," Harry said, "You want to go visit Dobby?"
He almost added, "Get it over with," because he had the distinct feeling that Hermione was up to something. Something in the way she'd engineered his entire day, and the brisk way she stood and closed her notebook. The look Ginny and Ron shot each other wasn't comforting either.
They made their way to the kitchens in silence for a while.
"So, Occlumency went alright?" she asked gently, trying very hard, and failing, to sound like she wasn't nagging.
"Fine. Great, actually," Harry said, with a frown.
"Well…that's a good thing, isn't it?"
He explained about how easy it had been to defend his brain from Snape.
"Well, that's wonderful, Harry! You're improving!"
Harry nodded and didn't say anything. When they arrived at the still-life, Harry reached up to tickle the pear, and they soon were greeted with a warm, fragrant blast of heat from the ovens and the dishes being washed magically.
"Ugh," Hermione said, wafting the steam out of her face, "It's like a sauna. Deplorable work conditions."
"It's a kitchen, Hermione," Harry said, smiling patiently.
"Harry Potter sir!" squealed a delighted voice, as Dobby came scampering over. He had abandoned his shirt due to the heat, and wore a lurid pair of bermuda shorts, two pairs of socks, and a tennis sweatband around his head.
"Hello, Dobby!" Harry grinned.
"Dobby is working very hard, Harry Potter, and Miss! Dobby is writing to elves all over England! Dobby's poor knuckles are creaking from writing so much!" he said, grinning eagerly.
"Don't push yourself too hard, Dobby," Hermione interjected, anxiously.
"Are any of them coming to Hogwarts, Dobby?"
"Not many, Harry Potter, no," Dobby said, shaking his head, his tennis-ball eyes gleaming sadly, "Most of them is coming from Pureblood families, sir…they is thinking they is better off there."
"Can't say I blame them," Harry said, sighing.
"But not all!" Dobby said, brightening up.
"How many elves are coming, Dobby?" Hermione asked excitedly, "Did they say?"
"Five!" Dobby beamed, his bony ribcage swelling with pride.
"Five?" Hermione repeated weakly.
"Dobby's sister-in-law," he said, counting off on his spindly fingers, "Dobby's niece and nephew, one cousin, and Winky."
"Winky?! Winky was already here!" Hermione said. Harry felt a twinge at the disappointment etched on her face…he didn't think it was a good time to mention that Winky would probably be less than enthusiastic about defending Hogwarts from Death Eaters.
"Oh…Miss is right," Dobby said, shuffling his feet, "Four, then."
"It's okay, Dobby," Harry said, hurriedly, lest Dobby decide to punish himself for not getting enough recruits, "You did great. When are they coming?"
"As soon as they can, Harry Potter! They is belonging to not-nice wizards!" he shuddered, "Not nice wizards at all! They is bound to keep their secrets! But they is promising, Harry Potter, to try and disobey as much as they can!"
Harry nodded. It was only after Sirius told Kreacher to "get out," that he'd been able to leave…Dobby's family was probably waiting for some similar vague instruction to make their escape. But thinking about Kreacher still made the anger churn quietly in his gut, so he pushed it out of his thoughts.
"Well, thanks Dobby…we tried," Harry said, warmly.
"Yes…keep up the good work," Hermione said, feebly, "Is there anything we can do? Maybe Harry and I ought to write…"
"Oh no, Miss," Dobby said, his green eyes going wide, "If you is writing to them, miss, the bad wizards will know! They will read them, miss! Dobby knows secret ways he can talk to his family, and send messages – ways only a house elf would know."
"Well, if you're sure," Hermione said, sounding as though she very much didn't want to leave it at that.
"Thanks again, Dobby," Harry said, a bit more finally, and taking the hint, Hermione followed him out, amidst warm goodbyes from the crinkled elf.
"Well, that's disappointing," Hermione said, as she turned left down a corridor.
"At least they've been warned," Harry sighed, "They might not be ready to leave now, but if they ever need a safe haven, they know Hogwarts is open to them."
"That wasn't exactly the idea, Harry," Hermione frowned, suddenly turning left, "I agree, of course we should welcome any house elves that want to stay, but what we really need is help!"
"Err – Hermione…Where are you going?" Harry asked, bemusedly, "Gryffindor's this way, Miss Prefect."
"Come on," she said, "I wanted to talk to you."
Oh, no.
Harry had heard those words before, but never in a good context. "We need to talk," or "I want to have a word with you," or "I have something to say to you," was almost never followed by good news. What was it? Had she figured out that he was a metamorphmagus? Or was she going to ask him something about Ginny? Or worse, about that stupid night when he'd stupidly dashed about looking like Ron and had stupidly…
He followed her mutely, his heart thumping, only vaguely aware of which direction they were taking. He vaguely recognized this corridor from last year – but from where? He hadn't taken any classes this way…
Suddenly, she went through a door, and began mounting a curving staircase, and he recognized at once where they were headed – the Astronomy Tower, where they'd taken their OWLS last year, and had watched the attack on Professor McGonagall and Hagrid.
"Err…Hermione, does Ron –"
"Don't worry about it," Hermione interrupted calmly. Harry was distinctly reminded of last year yet again, when she had been leading he and Umbridge crashing through the forest. That was Hermione – as much as the Prophet and the school gossips liked to think he was at the head of their little group, it was always Hermione plunging ahead, showing them the way.
When they finally reached the top of the tower, they happened upon a couple startled first-years – Harry vaguely recognized Arthur Aaronson and Electra Bellanova in the dim starlight.
"Scram," Hermione said, amiably.
"Oh, that's nice!" Electra said, sweeping her hair to the side, "Just because you're a prefect! And what are you doing up here, anyway?"
"Prefect business," Hermione said, smiling sweetly, "What are you two doing up here?"
"Astronomy homework," Electra said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Hermione leaned in, and with a sly grin, whispered, "Where are your books?"
Two embarrassed exits later, they had the Astronomy Tower to themselves.
"That was…mean!" Harry said, though he was more surprised and amused than criticizing.
Hermione laughed, and shrugged as she sat on one of the stone steps, her back to the parapet. "It's my job. They're first-years – not supposed to be out this late anyway, and second of all, they're far too young to be snogging."
"Err…you know," Harry began, but Hermione held up a hand.
"I'm beginning to think…" she said, making eye contact with him, an amused expression on her face, "That we're all a bit too young, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah," Harry said, heat creeping up his neck, "I think I know what you mean."
"Here." Hermione said, reaching into her robes, and throwing something to him. Harry caught it, instinctively, even though her throw was a bit off. It felt warm in his hands, and he recognized its heft, and smoothness instinctively.
"Is there anything you want to ask me, Harry? You know I can't lie."
Harry immediately felt ashamed of himself, for ever thinking that she and Ron had been sneaking around, or feeling like a fifth wheel…for misinterpreting their friendship so deeply, and for ever doubting her one-hundred percent support.
"No," Harry said, handing it back to her, "You don't need to explain anything. Not if you don't feel like it."
"We weren't –"
"I don't need to know," Harry insisted, handing it back to her, firmly, "It's fine, really."
Hermione studied him for a minute. Her frizzy hair was capturing the moonlight, and framing her soft features. Finally she smiled gently, and took the Veritastone back from him. She scootched over on the stone step, wordlessly inviting him to sit, which he did, making sure not to hit his head on the eyepiece of the telescope.
"So when did you figure it out?" he asked, turning beet red.
Hermione laughed, "The next day. Oh honestly, Harry, why did you do something so –"
"I don't know," he said, the heat creeping up the back of his neck, "I was rushing to tell you, and then when I got there…I was so stupid."
"No, not stupid," Hermione said, leaning into him against the cold, "Just…"
"Yeah," Harry said, quietly. He somehow knew that she was thinking about his upbringing, about the coldness of the Durlsey's sneering, the dust of his cupboard under the stairs…how starved he had been for a kind word, a friendly face. He wondered vaguely whether this was Legilimency, or whether they just knew each other too well by now.
"So, you and Ron, now," he said, grinning, and now it was Hermione's turn to blush.
"It didn't start how you'd think," she said, "Just – after the Ministry last year. I mean…"
"Yeah," Harry said, nodding soberly, "I think it was a big wake-up call for him."
"And me," Hermione said, "The three of us have all faced danger before, but I think that up until last year it was still an adventure for Ron and I. I mean, we were always terrified, of course, but last year was different. And we were both in the hospital wing for so long, and at night-time, we'd just get to talking…"
She trailed off dreamily, but quickly blushed and looked away, seemingly embarrassed to be showing this new side of herself in front of Harry.
"Well, I'm glad," Harry said firmly, "I really am, honestly."
Hermione crooked an eyebrow, "Honestly?"
Harry laughed, "I mean it. I don't know…I don't what was going on with me. And, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean anything by it, you just didn't even give me a chance to say anything!"
"Oh, so it's my fault?" Hermione asked, suddenly stern.
"Well, no, I guess not," Harry amended, sheepishly.
"Hmm," Hermione said firmly, but her signature smile was creeping in the corners.
They sat in silence for a while, the cool wind whistling through the gaps in the stone parapet.
"You know, Harry, I was always jealous of you and Ron," Hermione said, all of a sudden, "It's part of why I so badly wanted to be your friend in first year. You have something with him that I could never have."
"Yes, you could," Harry said, putting an arm over her shoulders.
"No, I can't," Hermione said, thoughtfully, "No matter what I do, what you and I have couldn't be like what you and Ron have…But it could be just as important," she said, glancing at him meaningfully.
Harry grinned sheepishly, and kissed her forehead, rubbing her arm to keep her warm.
"So, you and Ginny?" she asked teasingly, her voice muffled by Harry's jumper.
"Ugh. I dunno," Harry said, "I think I messed that up, too."
Hermione laughed as though the complete opposite were true.
"Well. We're all a bit young for this nonsense anyway. I think we'll just…see what happens."
Harry sighed deeply. To hear Hermione talk, there was no huge battle lurking just around the corner. There was no Lord Voldemort, or Death Eaters.
"Yes," Harry agreed amiably, "See what happens."
"You scared?" she asked, gently.
"No," Harry said, truthfully, "Scared for you and Ron, and Ginny, and everybody. Scared for Hogwarts. For me, it's kind of…pointless to be scared anymore, you know? I'm sort of doomed either way."
"Oh, Harry…"
Harry simply shrugged in reply.
"There's something else I've got to tell you. I told Dumbledore you were a Metamorphmagus."
"You what?!"
"I had to, Harry. You know that."
"No, I don't know that!"
"Harry, I was worried about you," Hermione said, looking stricken, "Please don't be mad. I'm telling you about it, aren't I? I didn't want to keep any more secrets."
"It was my secret to keep, you know," Harry groused, but he was already settling back into his spot.
"I'm just trying to keep you safe," Hermione said, "And the best way to do that is make sure Dumbledore knows about every new development."
"You didn't tell him about…"
"Of course not," Hermione said, sounding smooth and discerning, "I simply said that I had a suspicion, and he said that my suspicions were usually correct, and didn't ask any more about how I figured it out."
"So what'd he have to say about it?" Harry grumped.
"Oh honestly, Harry! You sound as though you don't even like him anymore!"
Harry didn't respond…it wasn't true, he didn't hate Dumbledore, but at the same time, he didn't feel the urge to reassure Hermione of the opposite, either. He and Dumbledore still had a few things to work through first.
"He basically just nodded, and said thank you, and that was that," Hermione said, "I really think he's going to be discreet about it, Harry. He knows by now that you don't need any extra pressure. Besides, I don't think he wants the enemy finding out about it. He said that if you did bring it up with me, I was supposed to tell you not to use your ability in front of them, ever."
"So he does think we'll see action."
"That's what I asked him."
"And what did he say?"
"He doesn't know."
They sat there for another couple minutes, until Harry's bum began to feel numb from the hardness of the stone, and the cold seeping through his jeans. Finally, Hermione yawned, and stood, stretching.
"Let's head in," she said, offering him a hand.
The strange occurrences and abnormal lessons continued that week, teachers suddenly deviating from their typical lesson plans, or abandoning lengthy research assignments in favor of more practical applications and wandwork. If Ron or Ginny had any idea what he and Hermione had talked about, they gave no clue. He was pretty sure they knew they'd taken a detour after talking to Dobby, but it certainly didn't seem to bother either of them, and they surely knew better than to ask.
"I don't like the sound of it," Ron said frowningly, as they walked to Care of Magical Creatures the next day, "Are you sure Snape is still really trying to get into your mind?"
"He certainly seemed like it," Harry said, thoughtfully, "Why wouldn't he be?"
"Maybe…" Ron said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Just stop right there," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "We both know what you're going to say, so just stop."
"Hermione, he was a Death Eater! We still don't have one-hundred percent proof that he –"
"I repeat: Dumbledore trusts him, Ron! Besides, what could Snape possibly gain by going easy on Harry, especially after he's trained him all the rest of the time?"
"Maybe he's making sure he's out of practice?"
"Maybe…Maybe it's Voldemort," Harry said, quietly, noticing his two friends wince subtly, caught off-guard, "Maybe it wasn't just Snape trying to get into my head all those times…and maybe now that he doesn't want me knowing what he's up to, it's easier to block Snape out…"
That thought was so sobering, that the three of them finished their walk in silence. In fact, there was only one thing that could cheer them up –
"Hagrid!"
Hermione dashed forward, and threw her arms around Hagrid's neck (an act which actually required a running start). Then, suddenly realizing she'd flung herself at a teacher during class time, blushingly let go, and dropped to the ground.
"'Lo," Hagrid said, blushing shyly, "Nice to see you too!"
"Welcome back, Hagrid!" Ron said with a grin.
"Where've you been?" Harry asked, beaming.
"Well, I should think that'd be obvious," Hagrid winked, and then added, with a nervous glance at the other students arriving, "Err…with family. Fer the holidays, an' all."
The class wasn't much of a class…Hagrid had simply copyquilled a page from the Ministry of Magic, outlining which bits of magical creatures were classified as A, B, or C tradeable materials, and another page full of laws forbidding Experimental Breeding, and had them all taking notes from it.
"Never was much fer all that Ministry stuff anyhow," Hagrid confessed later, as they sat on his stoop, the other students having turned theirs in, and electing to spend the rest of the class lounging on the grass chatting.
"Ruddy boring, but it's on the NEWTS, so I figure I'll jes' give it to yeh, and let you do it yerselves, seein' as yer probably better at book-learnin' than I am, anyhow."
"Yawn," Ron agreed, waving the copyquilled parchments, and Harry nodded his agreement.
"You had better study those!" Hermione chunnered, "Especially since you're planning on taking the NEWT for Care of Magical Creatures next year!"
"Hermione, we have a whole other year!" Ron protested, but Harry quickly headed off a confrontation:
"So Hagrid," he asked, lowering his voice, "Any relatives visiting?"
"Might be," he said, evasively.
"Anyone we know personally?" Hermione asked. Harry thought he heard a note of trepidation in her voice, and smiled to himself – Grawp hadn't exactly made a great first impression.
Hagrid must have noticed it too, because he frowned woundedly, and rumbled, "Aw, now 'ermione, he's loads better this year –"
"Shh!" Ron cautioned, as some of the students were still a bit too close to earshot for comfort.
"I'll tell yeh later," Hagrid said, "Second thought, no I won't. Less you lot know abou' it, the better."
Their protests fell on deaf ears: however many giants Hagrid was stashing in the Forest, he wasn't telling.
"How's he managing to get past the centaurs?" Hermione wondered, with a shudder – she remembered all too clearly their last run-in with them.
"I don't want to know," Harry said, echoing Hagrid's earlier sentiment.
The day of the Quidditch match dawned gray and drizzly. Harry found himself shuddering as he pulled on his Quidditch Robes.
"Hey," Ron said, reassuringly, "It's just one of those – what do you call them, Dean? Scrimmle?"
"Scrimmage," Dean corrected, wearily.
"Well, anyway, it doesn't count for anything. Besides, you'll do fine as Chaser."
"That's not what I'm worried about," Harry muttered darkly, with a glance at the calendar. February 28th – it was almost March. One more day, as it was Leap Year, and then…
Harry noticed the entire school seemed to be on edge. He doubted anyone had heard about the Prophecy – but everyone could infer from the behavior of the Professors that something serious was going on. Laughter in the hallways was strained and tinny, and Professors were frequently to be seen standing outside their classroom doors, exchanging grim nods with one another and scanning the hallways for trouble.
"Look," Ron said, softly, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Let's just play some Quidditch, today, eh?"
Lupin's advice to him from the start of the year came drifting back from Harry's memories, and he nodded, forcing a grin. It was fine for Ron – he wasn't about to die, or become a murderer.
Harry dressed in the Gryffindor locker-room, as usual, but rather than donning his typical red robes, he simply put on a couple Weasley sweaters – the Hinkypunks were wearing regular clothing, but the Hippogriffs had agreed to wear their school robes, so that everyone would be able to tell the teams apart. He felt oddly naked as he stood up from the bench – Even with the arm and shin guards, he'd never played a game of Quidditch without his uniform. He eyed it longingly as it hung in his locker – he could only see the "OTT" of his name, the way it hung.
"Decent?" Ginny yelled noisily, before poking her head around.
"Curses," she grinned, "Foiled again."
"Ew!" Ron said, flinging a balled-up sock at her head, "You're my sister!"
"Gross, not you!" Ginny rolled her eyes, "Please. I've seen you naked, and I was nearly scarred for life. That's why Mum made up the shower schedule."
Harry snorted back a laugh, as Ron flushed scarlet.
"Well, you should've knocked!"
"You're the one who forgot to Imperturb the door!"
"Well, you should still knock! Besides, Ginevra, you used to run around the garden naked!"
"I was three, Ronald!" Ginny retorted, turning as scarlet as Ron.
"Err, as fascinating as your family is?…" Katie Bell grinned, as she crossed over to their bench, and plunked down to attach her shin-guards.
"Right," Ginny said, now fuming at Ron, "Fine." She, too began to attach her shin-guards.
"It's weird not being on the same team," Ron said, nodding at Ginny's school robes, apparently having already dropped their argument.
"Yeah," Harry said, wrinkling his nose, "I keep being afraid I'll pass the ball to the wrong person."
"Chasing is easier than you'd think, Harry," Ginny said, reassuringly, "Just like you always tell us – keep your eyes open for Zacharias and Katie, and pass the ball a lot."
"I'll try to hang around the hoops, Harry," Katie said, "So you and Zack do a lot of passing, and if you don't want to risk the shot, chuck it to me."
"Hey, just because I'm nervous about it, doesn't mean I'm not even going to try!" Harry said, feeling a bit of his good humor return, "Besides, do you think it's fair to be discussing our secret strategy in front of the enemy here?" he teased, jutting his chin towards Ginny.
Giving a mock scoff of offense, Ginny sprang up, and flounced out the door with a flip of her red hair.
"I think that's our cue," Ron mumbled, rolling his eyes.
They entered the pitch, to find the entire school waiting, as usual. Unfortunately, while the teams had been mixed through the houses, everyone was still seated in their house stands – now, instead of students choosing one house or the other to support for the game, all four houses were sporting their colors proudly, with banners and painted faces, and judging from the din, it seemed a riot was imminent.
"Ah," Ron said, simply, for utter lack of anything constructive to say. They all stood there for a moment, observing the cacophony surrounding them.
"POTTER!""That doesn't sound good," Ginny said, shuddering to Harry's left.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Draco Malfoy dropped out of the sky, chucking his black Nimbus 2001 to the ground.
"WHAT D'YOU MEAN BY PUTTING US ON THE SAME TEAM?!""It's an inter-house unity game," Harry said, folding his arms stubbornly, "Like it or not, we're teammates."
"AND I SUPPOSE YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING TO BE SEEKING?!""No, I'm playing Chaser," Harry said, his temper quickly rising, "So after this moment, I don't foresee any need for us to speak to one another."
"I AM NOT PLAYING QUIDDITCH WITH THE WEASEL! He's so bloody POOR, I can hardly stand the SMELL of him! AND you put Zacharias BLOODY SMITH on the team!"
"So?" Harry snapped, the last of his patience gone, "He's good!"
"HE'S A MUDBLOOD!" Draco shrieked, his silver-blonde hair disheveled, and his normally palid cheeks contorted and flushed with rage, "A FILTHY, REEKING, COMMON –"
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" rang the voices from the stands. Apparently their tiff hadn't gone unnoticed. Madam Hooch was in the air, already streaking towards them on her broom, looking livid.
"This is a nightmare," Ron moaned quietly, to Harry's right.
Impulsively, Harry took a deep breath, and thrust his hand out to Draco Malfoy. The din of "Fight! Fight!" slowly receded in the stands.
Half expecting to be punched in the gut, Draco had jumped backwards, bumping into his goons. When he realized what Harry had actually done, his expression slid quickly from fear to disgust.
"You play with us, or you don't play," Harry said bluntly, hand still outstretched.
"Well that's simple then," Draco sneered, "We don't!"
Harry jerked his head curtly towards the Slytherin stands.
"The entire house showed up, Malfoy. I don't think your devoted fans will be pleased if the whole of Slytherin house withdraws from the game. Ambitious, Slytherins. Don't fancy a quitter."
Malfoy looked utterly outraged – Harry reflected it was quite possible no Gryffindor had ever lectured a Slytherin on the merits of Slytherin house before.
"What in blue blazes is going on here?" Madame Hooch snapped, having just alighted next to them, "Potter, Malfoy – are you, or are you not on the same team?"
"We are," Harry and Draco said at the same time, one with steady determination, and the other with sneering distaste.
"Then shake his bloody hand, and get on the field before they start gnawing at the bleachers!" Madame Hooch barked.
Looking as though he'd just been asked to lick a flobberworm, Draco extended his hand, and gave Harry a half-hearted, weak-wristed shake, before summoning his broom, and taking to the sky.
There was a roar from the stands as Harry and the others strode to the center of the field.
"Don't know whether they're happy, or angry, or what," Ron said in awe. Harry had to agree – he'd never heard anything like it.
"Remember, keep the Quaffle moving, Harry," Katie said, taking her spot to his left.
"Ah, Harry," Zacharias said, just arriving on Harry's right from the Hufflepuff locker room, "Let's make it a good one, eh?"
"Sure, Zack," Harry said, trying distractedly to nod at Katie at the same time. His stomach was doing flip-flops. He had to win the toss-up, or he'd look like a total idiot.
"Well, see you," Ron said, chucking him on the arm, and setting off for the goal posts. Harry felt even worse – it was bad enough with Ron by his side, but with Katie and Zack in position behind him, and the entire opposing team before him, Harry felt a bit overwhelmed – as Seeker, all he'd ever had to do was stay out of the fray and focus on the Snitch…while it was technically true that Quidditch was a team sport, it wasn't really one for the Seeker.
Now, he had the distinct impression that he was going into battle. And to make matters worse…
"Hi, Harry," Cho said, stepping up to the circle.
"Hi," Harry said, suppressing a groan.
Great. Imagine if he lost a toss-up to his ex-girlfriend…
"Right," Madam Hooch said briskly, as she landed at their side with the Quaffle tucked under her arm, "The Snitch has been released. I want a good clean game."
Harry found his focus wandering over to the other team, and he caught a glimpse of Ginny circling the pitch, looking for the freshly-released Snitch. In the din, he somehow managed to hear Hermione's shrill screaming, and he grinned – this wasn't so bad. After all, everyone on the other team was in the D.A…with the exception of Bletchley, of course. And he had friends on his side, and in the stands, as well.
"Just play Quidditch," he muttered to himself, as Madam Hooch wrapped up her "good clean game" speech, and fit the whistle to her mouth.
With a sharp blast, the Quaffle was up, and Harry had his hand around it, and he was off, zooming into the air, with his heart fit to burst.
"And it's Harry with the Snitch! Er, I mean Quaffle!" came Lee Jordan's magically enhanced voice, and Harry grinned to himself. This was going to be extra difficult for Lee – familiar faces in strange places.
"HARRY!" shrieked Katie, and Harry looked to his right just in time to avoid a Bludger.
"YOU IDIOTS!" came Draco's furious screech from above him. Harry looked up to see Draco berating a befuddled pair of beaters, "He's on OUR FLIPPING TEAM!"
Harry hastily chucked the Quaffle to Katie, who immediately began a passing salvo with Zacharias. Swooping past Cho, who had taken to her usual strategy of dogging his every move, Harry neared the goalposts…
"HARRY!!" Katie hollered, in a hoarse, crazed yell that Harry normally associated with Irish football fans.
He was just shocked enough to be extra alert, and managed to catch the Quaffle she had chucked to him.
"DO IT!!" She bellowed, pointing to the hoops.
Galvanized by panic more than anything else, Harry hastened to comply, and took a shot at the far right goal hoop.
For one awful moment, he thought it would go wide…in the next awful moment, he thought Bletchley was going to reach it in time. But it went right over his left arm, and a loud "ding!" announced the first score of the game.
"WOOO!" keened Katie, flashing Harry a thumbs up.
Harry flashed her a thumbs up weakly, feeling a bit intimidated by her fierceness – he'd never really interacted with his Chasers before, so he hadn't realized how ferocious Katie could be when the spirit took her. Far across the pitch, he watched as Ginny and Draco took a sudden dive, and his heart lept up to his chest.
"Harry!" barked Zacharias, "Defense!"
Harry forced himself to focus on the task at hand, and zoomed after Cho, who had already darted off, trying to get open for the score. Davies and MacMillan were passing back and forth.
"Ohhh!" Lee's voice boomed out over the pitch, "An excellent Wronski feint from the youngest Weasley…" So that hadn't been the Snitch after all…
"I'm open!" Cho shrieked, but Harry put on an extra burst of speed, and as though it were slow-motion, watched as his hand smacked the Quaffle away as she was about to catch it.
She looked up at him with a look of shock and outrage, and in the next instant, they were both diving after the Quaffle, which was sinking through the air slowly. Cho managed to get to it first, but Harry was right on top of her, tailing her every move, making it difficult for her to find an opening for a pass. He found he couldn't even concentrate on Lee's commentary, as he usually did, and the roar of the crowd became so much meaningless noise…
This was amazing! So this is what his father had done – he felt as though he immediately understood so much more about him – the aggression this took, the speed…the steely focus on your opponent, and the clear-headed ability to drop your objective at an instant, and head charging in the complete opposite direction…
Cho finally attempted to pass the Quaffle to Ernie MacMillan, but Harry had manage to cover her so that the pass was weak and slow, and Katie was on it like a cat on a mouse, and already zooming off to the opposite end of the field.
"Nice, Harry!" Cho spat, viciously, as she wheeled her broom around.
Harry was stunned for a moment, and then wrenched his broom around, putting on an extra burst of speed indignantly – he was just doing his job! He quickly surpassed Cho, and led her on a merry chase, zigging and zagging all over the field, all the while trying to keep his eyes on Katie and Zack.
"Harry!" Zack hollered from above him, and Harry wrenched upwards on his Firebolt so that he was literally upside down. In the split second it took him to gain his bearings, the Quaffle was hurtling towards him, and with his Seeker reflexes, he plucked it out of the air.
"Harry, look out!"
Harry only had time to recognize Ginny's voice before the Bludger slammed into his right arm, and he was forced to drop the Quaffle.
Momentarily stunned from the pain, Harry righted his broom, and shook his head, to clear away the haze. Cho had managed to grab the Quaffle, and in another few moments, his heart sank, as he heard a "ding" from the opposite end of the field.
"No worries, Harry," Katie said, arriving suddenly at his side, "Happens to the best of us. You alright?"
"You…do this…every game?" Harry asked, panting heavily.
Katie simply laughed in response, and shot off down the field, trying to cover Ernie MacMillan.
It went on like that for what felt like hours, Harry alternately dogging Cho or trying to shake her, straining his neck to keep Katie and Zack in his sights, and gasping for air as he urged his broom into some of the speediest and most complicated aerodynamics he'd ever attempted. While it was true that the broom was doing most of the flying, Harry was working harder than he'd ever worked – his arms were already getting sore, and he thought his shoulders would pop clean out of their sockets the next time he had to turn on a dime, and feel his own weight threaten to rip his hands off the broom handle.
He managed one more goal, and had assisted Katie in another, but the Hippogriffs were managing many more attempts, and eventually, Cho snuck another one by Ron, followed by another from Ernie MacMillan.
"This can't…go on…much longer," Harry panted, feeling sweat trickle down his neck, as he hefted the Quaffle to Zacharias Smith again. He could hear Cho breathing hard behind him, and knew he wasn't the only getting exhausted.
Katie, fortunately, was indomitable, and her Viking-esque war cries never failed to inspire sudden, panicked alert on his part. More than once she'd alerted him to an opening, or saved him from a Bludger.
And then, suddenly, there was a massive gasp from the stands, and Harry followed Katie's glance to see Ginny and Draco diving for the snitch, ramming each other with their brooms, arms outstretched…
"And it's WEASLEY! MALFOY! WEASLEY!" Lee Jordan's magically enhanced voice rang out over the pitch, "MALFOY!"
Time seemed to freeze as the two of them swooped upwards out of their dive…and then…
"IT'S WEASLEY! WEASLEY GETS THE SNITCH! THE HIPPOGRIFFS WIN!"
"Yeah!!" Harry cried, pumping his fist in the air.
"Err, Harry…you lost," Cho panted to his right.
"Huh? Oh…Oh yeah."
Harry felt a bit stupid, and nervously glanced up at the stands, hoping no one had seen him. Why did he always have to look like an idiot in front of Cho? At the very least he'd like to be one of those ex-boyfriends that girls talked about wistfully, rather than the kind they felt a bit embarrassed for.
Ron came zooming over from his spot at the goal posts, grinning, and shrugging.
"Not bad," he grinned, "Great game, at least."
"And you're proud of Ginny, of course," Harry replied, also grinning, "Go on, you can say it!"
"Alright, I am," Ron admitted, "But don't tell her that – it'll go to her head."
"Good game, Potter! You're a fair Chaser!" Katie said, lazily flying over to meet them.
"Ugh," Harry said, grinning, and wiping the sweat from his brow as they touched down, "Still prefer Seeking, I think."
Harry smiled, as he watched Ginny raise the Snitch in the air, to the thunderous cheering in the stands. He knew that they'd lost, but somehow, it didn't feel like it, and he found himself clapping, and shaking hands with everyone else – he'd lost track of who was playing for who.
Draco came storming over, not bothering to wait for Crabbe and Goyle to catch up.
"Pathetic!" he snapped, "Sixty? That's the best you could do, sixty? If you'd been racking up any kind of points, this wouldn't have mattered."
"Malfoy, if you'd've caught the bloody Snitch, our lousy Chasing wouldn't have mattered," Ron retorted.
"Why don't you just relax?" Harry said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, "It's not like it counts towards the Quidditch cup or anything."
Harry wasn't prepared when Malfoy reached up and shoved him forcefully. Caught completely off guard, Harry's arms pinwheeled, and he feel with a soft thud to the Quidditch pitch.
There was another collective gasp from the stands. Harry looked up just in time to see Malfoy make a rather rude gesture to them, turn on his heel, and storm off.
"Oi!" Lee Jordan boomed, "That's not on! Malfoy, obviously sore about the Hinkypunk's loss…"
Ron was setting off to follow him, but Harry managed to grab his pants leg, holding him back.
"Let it go!" he said, sourly, as he released Ron, and struggled to a sitting position, "Just let him go cool off. Git."
"Rotten, slimy, Slytherin," Ron spat, offering Harry a hand up, "I suppose we're lucky that's the worst he did."
Harry chuckled, as a chorus of boos followed Malfoy to the locker room, "Well, at least the crowd seems to agree."
"Harry! Harry!" Ginny was waving ecstatically from Kirke and Sloper's shoulders, the Snitch still clutched in her fist, "Look!"
Harry and Ron both flashed her a thumbs up, grinning broadly.
"Well, here's to inter-house unity," Ron said, as Cho, Ernie, and Roger followed their teammates into the Gryffindor locker room, whooping and pumping their fists in the air. "Nice work, partner."
"They're going to feel awfully silly when they realize their clothes are in the other locker rooms," Harry said, smirking.
"Nice work, partner…"Harry thought his chest would burst from happiness.
