A/n: Look everyone… it's not four months later! I think you'll find that this chapter has a different tone to it, and I hope that you enjoy it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I can't believe that the number is almost up to 500. You guys are too kind.

Also, thanks of course go to my amazing beta reader! You're the best!

This chapter is dedicated to Von, who gave me a "happiness" idea way earlier in the story.

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Phoenix – Chapter 17

"Expecto patronum!"

Two months of frustration, hard work, and small successes finally culminated into this single moment.

The amorphous silver energy emanating from Neville's wand coalesced into a large silver lion that took a lap around the empty classroom before returning to the wand.

"I did it." Neville whispered in utter disbelief, staring at the tip of his wand as if it had played some sort of marvelous practical joke on him.

Smiling widely and genuinely, Harry was about to congratulate his peer on his accomplishment when the sound of a throat clearing caused both of them to turn towards the doorway where McGonagall was standing with her arms folded in displeasure.

"I would have expected fifth year Gryffindors to know that classrooms are off limits after hours."

Harry felt his face grow warm in response to the rush of guilt that hit suddenly at her words. It had been his idea entirely to use the empty classroom, despite Neville's protestations that they would get into trouble if they were found.

They had tried working in the Gryffindor Common Room all of once before Harry realized that Neville was simply too nervous to make any progress in so public a location.

Though Neville had remained self-conscious, the difference in the level of his nerves was remarkable without the pressure of being in the presence of his housemates. With every small success, Neville had begun to relax a little more in Harry's presence.

Harry suspected that Neville was waiting for Harry to give up on him, to tell him that he was foolish to even attempt such a complicated spell, and it was not until Neville realized that the rebuke was not coming that he had begun to make real progress.

Even though they were now facing McGonagall's displeasure, Harry did not regret his decision to use the classroom. He would not have been able to help Neville if they had stayed where they were supposed to, and it had been a risk worth taking.

"I'm sorry, Professor. We were just-"

McGonagall cut Harry's statement off. "Yes, I saw what the two of you were doing. That will be ten points from Gryffindor for being in an area that's off-limits."

Then a hint of a smile broke through the stern façade, and Harry had a strange sensation of déjà vu, remembering the incident with the troll in his first year.

"And thirty points to Gryffindor for that amazing patronus. Now, I suggest that the two of you return to your dormitory."

Both agreed and exited quickly, Neville's face flushed with pleasure and embarrassment.

Harry had never felt so grateful towards his head of house. She had punished both of them but had only rewarded Neville, and he desperately needed the boost of self-esteem.

Neville had been unable to take credit for his advances despite Harry's refusal to take credit either. The former had been told for so long that he was just barely above the level of the squib that he could not accept responsibility for his successes.

Thus, Neville Longbottom had fallen victim to a self-fulfilled prophesy, barely achieving anything except in the area of Herbology, which required very little magical talent.

Paradoxically, Harry saw no problem with his own refusal to take credit for his part in the endeavor. After all, he had not actually done anything. He had mostly been there as a source of encouragement. Neville was the one who had produced the patronus after months of hard work.

It was Harry's inability to see that his role had been crucial to Neville's success that had blinded him to the fact that McGonagall's reward of points had been inclusive just like her deduction of points.

McGonagall watched the retreating backs of her students long enough to affirm that they were heading back to their dormitory before heading towards the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore looked up from his small mountain of paperwork when she walked in, and after taking in her countenance, his eyes seemed to become alive with mirth.

"Professor McGonagall, what brings you here at this late hour? Do we have a meeting that I've forgotten?"

"No," she responded primly, wondering where Dumbledore was heading with his statements.

"Well, then could you please tell me why you look like the cat who just ate the canary?"

Only years of exposure to Dumbledore's strange sense of humor kept her from groaning out loud at the obvious pun aimed at her animagus form. Instead, she responded as if his statement had been nothing out of the ordinary.

"I just caught Potter and Longbottom in an empty classroom."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore was amusing himself with the fight McGonagall was having with her lips. The corners were twitching up and down as she was fighting the urge to smile.

"And Longbottom has succeeded in producing a full-fledged corporeal patronus, a lion nonetheless."

Dumbledore had no problem allowing his smile to take over his features, "I've long suspected that we've underestimated Neville Longbottom, and I don't think that he'll be able to question his house placement any longer. You weren't too hard on them were you?"

"Ten points taken for being where they shouldn't and thirty added for the patronus."

"You know, Minerva, it quite defeats the purpose of taking away points if you compensate for the lost points with the added points."

"I don't know what you mean, Albus." McGonagall responded, trying not to let the guilty expression cross her features. She had in fact added thirty points so that a total of twenty points would be added to Gryffindor house, the point value she had wanted to award in the first place.

"I'm sure that you don't."

"I believe that a letter to Longbottom's grandmother might be in order, to inform her of his behavior tonight."

"Why, Professor McGonagall, I believe that you're meddling."

"I can't imagine where I learned that." She responded with mock-sarcasm to his teasing.

"I have no idea, but you should be careful. It's a nasty habit."

This time the smile completely broke from her features, "Good night, Albus. Get some sleep. The paperwork will still be here in the morning."

Dumbledore's face fell, "I was hoping that no one would notice if it magically disappeared."

Harry entered Dumbledore's office the following day for his lessons on magical control, or as Harry had dubbed them: tortures in wandless magic, only to find himself wishing that he could leave immediately.

Dumbledore had greeted him with a grin that was frighteningly similar to the grins that would alight upon the Weasley twins' faces when they were on the verge of revealing a new concoction of mischief.

Harry was certain that no good could come from that grin on Dumbledore's face.

"Good afternoon, Harry. Before we get started, there's something that I would like to discuss with you. Have a seat."

Against his better judgment, Harry followed his headmaster's instructions and sat.

"Professor McGonagall came to see me last night, and she had something interesting to report. I assume that you know what I'm talking about."

Harry nodded, looking suitably chagrined.

"You have quite a talent for teaching."

Harry stared at Dumbledore unblinkingly as if finally coming to the conclusion that the latter had completely lost his mind.

"What?"

"I'm sure that you realize that Mr. Longbottom has been barely coasting through most of his classes at Hogwarts, yet under your tutelage he has managed to cast a spell that some fully trained wizards are incapable of casting.

Harry shook his head. "I didn't do anything. Neville was the one who pushed himself. I was just there for support."

"Harry, what do you think teaching is?"

Dumbledore took advantage of Harry gaping at him without managing to find an appropriate response to pull out a lemon drop from his desk.

Harry winced instinctively at the appearance. He was still at an impasse with the levitation spell. Even though the lessons had grown to include other spells, met with varying rates of success, Dumbledore insisted that they have at least one attempt at the levitation spell to start each session.

He stood without argument, knowing that if he just got it over with, he would be able to move on to other things.

Closing his eyes briefly in an effort to alleviate the frustration that was becoming innately associated with the spell, he felt himself slip into some sort of strange calm.

His eyes opened, and suddenly, what Fawkes had been trying to tell him for the last two months made sense.

He reached out towards the lemon drop with his arm and then extended his magic through his arm as if it was a part of his appendage. When his magic had wrapped around the lemon drop like a fist, he raised his newfound appendage.

The lemon drop rose as if effortlessly, and Harry felt a smile turn on his lips.

Dumbledore looked delighted, as if Christmas had come extremely early and he was five again.

"Good, Harry. Now see if you can summon it."

Still keeping a firm grasp on the lemon drop, he began to pull the magical appendage back into his arm.

When the lemon drop had made it halfway to him, Harry began to feel very tired, and the lemon drop trembled slightly. Through sheer determination alone, Harry pulled the lemon drop to him the rest of the way, despite the fact that his own arm was shaking almost as badly as the candy when it was finally in his grasp.

A sigh of relief left him before he could stop it. Though he felt fatigued, it was a pleasant fatigue, one born from an accomplished exertion instead of impending exhaustion.

Fawkes let out a string of notes, and Harry could feel joy and pride seeping in through his skin.

Finally, he had made some real progress, and the sheer relief of that accomplishment lifted a weight from him that he had not realized he was carrying.

"Very well done."

The sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes had either grown or was dancing about so quickly that his eyes almost looked like they were glowing.

Harry's smile deepened while his face colored slightly with embarrassment at his headmaster's praise. Instead of responding, he moved to place the lemon drop back on the desk, but Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him.

"We're done for today. Keep it. I insist."

"Done? But sir-"

"Harry, overexerting yourself will do more harm than good. Go and do something fun for the rest of the time we had scheduled. That means no schoolwork, but would you do me one last favor?"

Every instinct that Harry possessed screamed that he should decline, but for the second time since entering Dumbledore's office, he brushed those feelings aside.

Dumbledore smiled, sensing Harry's acquiescence.

"Try the lemon drop. They're really quite good. It would be quite a shame if you never try one because you got frustrated with them in your lessons."

This is the same man that likes Cockroach Clusters. Harry reminded himself, but he popped the piece of candy into mouth.

At once, his senses were overloaded.

Harry decided that whoever had named the candy "lemon drops" either had a sick sense of humor or had a gift for understatement.

A more appropriate name would have been "Super Sour Tongue Twisting Torture" candy.

His eyes had watered to the point that tears were leaking down his face, and if he thought that he could spit out the candy without hurting the headmaster's feelings, he would have done so immediately.

It was a shame that he had managed to destroy so few in his attempts to learn wandless magic.

Then, the sour flavor melted away into something wondrously sweet, a sensation enhanced by the intensely sour flavor that had preceded it.

Dumbledore grinned at him. "See, they're wonderful, aren't they, though I must admit that they have a little kick to them in the beginning."

A little kick?

"Now go on, Harry, and enjoy yourself."

As Harry left the office, he realized with a sudden pang that he had no idea what he was supposed to do for fun. Flying would have been the easy option, but the torrential downpour falling from the sky made that an impossible endeavor.

Had he really become that dependent on schoolwork?

After all, he was seriously considering beginning his homework despite Dumbledore's edict. School work was safe. He could isolate himself while keeping up the pretense that he was burying himself in his books for the sake of learning.

Making a rash decision, he decided that he was going to tear both Ron and Hermione away from their homework, knowing that tearing away the latter would be no easy task, and they were going to play Exploding Snap and maybe some Wizard's Chess as they had in first year.

The rift in the trio had basically been healed when he gave Ron the same half-truth he had told everyone else. However, there was still a tension in the group, a hint of suspicion on the parts of Ron and Hermione that there was still something that Harry was holding back from them, and Harry knew that they were keeping a closer eye on him.

Harry shook his head to clear those thoughts from his mind. At least for a little while, the three of them were going to have some carefree fun. They all needed it.

The smile reemerged on Harry's face when a more pleasant thought filled his head.

Maybe if Hermione teamed up with him, it would be possible to beat Ron at Wizard's Chess. Surely with the combined strategy of the two of them, Ron would be outmatched.

With a sparkle in his eye that was quite reminiscent of a certain headmaster, Harry slipped through the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

It was perhaps the most miserable day of the year.

Mother Nature appeared to have cloaked everything under her control with some drab hue of gray. The temperature was cooler than comfortable, and the gusts of wind sent a biting cold that seemed able to penetrate any and all protective layers, and as if in answer to the unspoken question wondering is things could possibly become drearier, a cold drizzle had begun to leak from the thick cloud covering that had completely dominated the sky.

Harry stood in front of his Quidditch team for the last time, very aware of their eyes watching him eagerly.

He reached inside his pocket to feel the letter that he had received from Sirius that morning wishing him luck in an effort to calm his nerves.

The chasm in his stomach was reduced to a pit, and when he remembered the postscript of the letter, he was able to find his voice.

"It's been a privilege to work with the lot of you this year, some more than others."

He sent a pointed look at the Weasley twins.

"Really no sense of humor…"

"Just because we turned his broom pink one practice."

Harry cleared his throat, and the twins grew silent though they continued to wear masks of innocence.

"Now I know that we could lose the game by twenty points and still win the House Cup, but we've worked too hard for that. Let's show them that this is the best Quidditch team Hogwarts has ever seen, and no matter what they do, play a clean game. Let's show them that we don't need to cheat to win."

He forced on a smile.

"And don't forget to have fun."

While most of the team headed for the pitch, Fred and George approached Harry.

"We have a confession to make…"

Immediately Harry's imagination went into overdrive, conjuring images of the Slytherin team in various animal states or their brooms multiple colors.

"We invited Wood."

"Oliver Wood?"

Harry stared at the two, waiting for them both to crack grins and claim that it was a joke.

"We thought that he might want to see what you've done with the team…"

"After all, you have been writing to him for advice. It was only fair."

The two smiled triumphantly and headed for the pitch, leaving their captain to fight a groan bubbling in his throat. Quickly, he pulled Sirius's letter from his pocket and reread it.

Harry,

This is just a quick note to say good luck. Not that you need it of course. You're the best flier I've ever seen.

Moony says "hi." We've been fixing up your room. You're absolutely sure that you want white walls? Really, it's not too late to change your mind.

I want all the details of the game. Don't leave your godfather in suspense for too long.

Snuffles

PS. Don't forget… once you get here, anything's fair game.

The last bit was a reminder of the threat Sirius had commissioned in response to his discovery that his hair had somehow turned invisible.

The first note that Harry had received after the incident claimed that Sirius had wanted to jinx the note, but Lupin had talked him out of it, reasoning that it would draw too much unwanted attention. It continued to inform Harry that as he was sitting duck this summer, unable to use his magic, he had better watch his back because Sirius was bound to regain his Marauder's honor.

What Sirius did not know was that Harry was an investor in a practical jokes company, whose co-owners would be more than honored to donate items to prank the infamous Marauders, their idols.

This was assuming that he was successful in being reborn and all of the complications involved in such a process did not prevent him from spending some of the summer with them.

Immediately, he suppressed that idea. He would deal with that later. Right now he had a Quidditch game to play.

After reapplying a sticking charm to the letter so that it would not fall out of his pocket and casting a spell on his glasses so that they would repel the raindrops, Harry mounted his broom, and flew off to join the rest of his team.

The slight drizzle turned into a steady rain about two minutes into the Quidditch match.

Harry ignored his body's instinct to shiver and circled the pitch with meticulous scrutiny, flying a bit slower than his customary pace. The sooner that he could find the Snitch, the sooner that they could all get out of the cold and the rain.

Ironically, the same conditions that prompted the desire to capture the Snitch sooner also increased the difficulty of actually finding it.

Malfoy was zooming around the field arrogantly as if the reduced visibility of the rain did not matter at all, which only confirmed what Harry had known all along.

Malfoy was an idiot.

"Let her go you slimy Slytherin!"

Lee's voice disrupted Harry concentration, and he quickly glanced over to see one of the Slytherin chasers actually holding onto one of Angelina's arms.

Apparently some of the Slytherins had decided to change their strategy. They had decided that the reduced visibility made it easier to cheat.

Angelina was awarded with a penalty shot and made it easily.

"Good job, Angelina. Way to show those cheaters-"

"Jordan!"

"Sorry Professor." Jordan replied automatically though he did not sound sorry at all. "Gryffindor is now ahead twenty points with a score of thirty to ten."

Almost an hour later, the rain had still not let up, the Snitch had still not made a single appearance, but the Gryffindor team had managed to take a substantial lead with a score of ninety to thirty with about half of their points earned through penalty shots.

Harry's senses went to full alert when Malfoy suddenly took a dive on the other side of the pitch. Though he had not seen anything himself and knew that it could very well be a trick, he was about to race to Malfoy's location when something caught his eyes.

There was a dull roar of confusion from the crowd as Malfoy continued his dive while Harry suddenly shot upwards into the clouds and became completely obscured from view.

Harry felt a sharp twinge of disappointment as he looked around the haze of the cloud.

There was nothing there. His rash decision had quite possibly lost his team both the game and the Quidditch Cup.

Before he could berate himself for his own stupidity, he caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye.

He shot towards it without hesitation, suppressing the cynical part of his brain that insisted that he was wasting his time and probably just chasing a bird.

The haze was so thick that Harry didn't exactly see it fully until he was basically on top of it.

He closed in the last couple inches that he needed and closed his fingers around the Snitch.

Holding his hand with the Snitch up in triumph and very well aware of the goofy grin plastered on his face, Harry dove from the cloud cover.

"I don't believe it!" Lee's voice rang out. "Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor has won the game 250 to forty, making them the winners of the Quidditch Cup!"

As soon as Harry hit the ground, the members of his team bombarded him with exuberant astonishment and were soon joined by the Gryffindor spectators who had rushed onto the field to join their team in celebration.

Harry found himself unable to respond to anyone with anything other than the ridiculously large smile that had split his face, and there was a warmness bursting inside of him that could only be described as unadulterated joy.

In the confusion, no one seemed to notice that the rain had finally stopped and that the sun was beginning to peak out.

A sort of laugh made it through Harry's throat as the Gryffindor team was hoisted up into the air and carried to the stands where Dumbledore was waiting.

A beaming Oliver Wood was standing next to the headmaster, and it was he that passed the cup to Harry.

"Congratulations, captain. I couldn't have left my team in better hands."

Harry held the cup up to the cheering of the crowd and then passed it on to the rest of his team.

He was so engrossed in the moment that he nearly started as a soft voice whispered in his ear.

"I know that you're excited, Harry, but perhaps you might want to tone it down a bit."

Turning to look at Dumbledore in shock and confusion, Harry saw Dumbledore's eyes motion discreetly in the direction of the sky.

The sun was shining in a cloudless and perfectly blue sky without any trace evidence of the ominously thick cover of clouds that had consumed the sky not ten minutes before.

Harry could not turn his gaze away from the sight, his mind fixated in amazement and denial that he could possibly be responsible for such a phenomenon.

Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Remember Harry, joy is much more powerful than anger."

With those sage words, Dumbledore slipped away, leaving Harry to the celebration that he so desperately needed.

A/n: Well, that's it for now! I finally gave the poor kid a break. Once again, thanks to everyone who reviewed. It really helps to keep me going.

Thanks to: adge9631, amyaggie, athenakitty, blip-dragon, gaul1, CastusAlbusCor, Charlie-potter1, EbonyFirePhoenix, greywolf2004, Haunting Darkness, HG/HrRfan4ever, insanechildfanfic, Kate Potter, KuTiExAzNxAnGeL, Lady Dearest, Nphipps, Raclswt, rahl, Rocky285, slycat-blaze11, TopQuark, venus4280

amarilis I very much agree that Harry needed the rest!

Fallen Angel: That is a wonderful compliment. Thanks. I hope that this provided you with a few laughs.

Insane Pineapple from Naboo: I like Fawkes acting as a "mother hen." As for Dumbledore being suspicious… I guess he is. I hadn't realized it before. Thanks for pointing it out.

beckiYou're back! I missed you (not to mention that I was a little afraid that you had actually gone through with your stalking threat). No, Ron and Hermione are just fine for now… I hope that your new computer is working out for you. Thanks for the great reviews!

biopoet Thanks for everything! I'm glad that you like doing it because you help a lot!

MiruSednaSirius did notice his hair… and he was not pleased.

Jess: I'm glad that it's not too teen-angsty. Dumbledore and Harry are definitely my favorite characters!

zorro x: Yes, you did in fact threaten to stalk me, but that's okay. I updated faster… keep reviewing. It helps!

Spectre The story is indeed coming to a close... at least it is past the half-way point, which is good because the ending is already written!

Twinlakeshgrl Harry is an animagus, but he has to learn to use magic as a phoenix.

baasheepI hope that you're feeling better. The review was certainly not useless! I know that four months is a long time, but I only took a little over one month this time! Yes, poor Neville, but now he can have a bigger role. I don't think that he even qualified as Harry's side-kick before. There will be further mention of Harry's training with Fawkes in the next chapter (I think).

Mindaleo Actually, McGonagall let him finish eating. She grabbed the boys on their way back to the dorm. The sentence is subtle. Sorry for the confusion. I'm glad that you're going to stick with the story, and thanks for joining the group.

Paradox01: Well, I hope that you got to do another dance. Believe me, I understand. I always get excited when someone updates when they haven't in a while. I'm glad that the last chapter amused you, and hopefully, this one will too.