A/N: Thank you, everyone who has been reviewing my story. Especially Queen Weasel, as I believe you've reviewed every time I post. I'm glad you like it! This next chapter is a little dark once you get past the quidditch tryouts, but I hope that won't put a damper on the incoming reviews. (By the way, I've finished cutting the whole story up into chapters, and there are a grand total of fourty, so you see why I'm updating so quickly. I'm not completely done editing, but I'm doing that chapter by chapter as I post. I just get so frustrated with people who take weeks or even months to update!)

Disclaimer: Dobby is here to serve his masters, sir! Dobby is a good house elf!

Chapter Fifteen -

Quidditch

The rest of the week went by in a blur, and the next thing Harry knew, it was time for quidditch tryouts.

He'd had a very difficult time in potions that afternoon, with Snape alternately insulting him and ignoring him. Snape never once locked eyes with him and he had to wonder if maybe Snape was a little afraid of him.

Charms that morning hadn't been much better, and the two frustrating classes were enough to make Harry ready to loosen up with a bit of quiddich.

No such luck.

Ron was worse than Oliver Wood when it came to being fanatical about quiddich, and he worked them all like dogs.

"If this is just the tryouts, then what are the practices going to be like?" Harry asked Katie, hovering lightly next to her on his Firebolt. They were both sweating profusely and gasping for air. Katie Bell was the only chaser who had not graduated last year. She and Harry had been playing quiddich the same amount of time, and they both had a pretty good grasp of the game, so Harry trusted her opinion.

Katie sighed. "I hate to imagine it, but I think he'll do a good job. We may just have a chance at the cup again this year."

"So what do you think of this year's prospects?" he asked her.

"Of course I want Ginny as one of my chasers. She did an awesome job at seeking when you were banned, and she tells me she prefers chasing to seeking. I can't help but wonder if she's even better at that side of things."

"Kirke and Jack don't really like her, do they?" Harry said, eyeing their two beaters. The surly looking brutes were whispering to each other, pointing at the students trying out, and laughing.

"No, but they don't seem to like anyone. Don't worry, I think Ron said he was going to look out for possible replacements."

"Really? He didn't tell me that." Harry eyed them even closer.

"Yeah, but I can't really see anyone I'd prefer in this lot. These are all chaser material. None of them thought we'd be looking for beaters."

Harry looked back at the group that were racing up and down the pitch, and taking shots with the quaffle. Some were passing, and some dropping. One player who stood out, other than Ginny, was a third-year boy whose name Harry had forgotten.

"What about that boy?" Harry pointed. "The one taking a shot on goal now?"

The boy's shot went past Ron, and through the left hoop.

"Not bad." Said Katie. "He's a bit big for a chaser spot, but he's fast. I want to see how he works with Ginny."

As if Ron had heard their thoughts, he partnered everyone in threes, and Ginny and the nameless boy were in the same group.

They passed back and forth, circling imaginary bludgers and opponents. Ginny and the boy were on fire. They seemed to know where each other were without looking. The last one in their trio was the one to try and score, and Ron caught it, and passed it to the next three to see how they worked.

"Definitely that one. Do you think Ron noticed?" Katie asked.

"Of course he noticed. He's no fool." Harry grinned.

They were called into action then to act as the opposing team. Harry and Katie acted as chasers, while Andrew and Jack hit bludgers around them to see if any of them could be easily unseated. The beaters weren't really giving it their all, but it did weed out the few players who might not have been able to properly dodge a wall should it happen to be in their path.

When all had calmed, and the team hit the ground, everyone was sweating buckets, and quite a few of the prospective chasers grumbled about the pain they were in.

Ron didn't choose any of them right away. First he walked down the line, asking each what they would do if he were to select them. Some were outright rude, as this was the person who had caused them so much pain, but a couple were still quite enthusiastic, including the third year boy Harry and Katie had noticed. He was grinning ear-to-ear, and was somehow able to look very nervous at the same time.

Ron paced before the prospectives, and pretended to consult his clipboard. "Our two chasers this year will be Ben Rogers and Ginny. Thank you all for coming, and I hope you will all try out again next year."

A few people mumbled something about 'favoritism' and 'his sister', but the more intelligent ones understood that Ginny had gotten the place by pure talent. Besides, no one could say she hadn't been a good seeker for their team last year. She ran up to Ron and hugged him fiercely.

Harry moved forwards to a happily stunned looking Ben Rogers. He held out his hand. "Welcome to the Gryffindor quiddich team." He said honestly, and Ben shook Harry's hand with a spaced out look in his eyes.

"Thanks." He mumbled. "My dad was helping me practice all summer. He used to play for the Moosejaw Meteorites when he lived in Canada."

Harry thought he had detected a trace of an accent. "Is that where you're from?" he asked.

"I was born there, but we moved back here when I was eight. My mum got a job with the ministry as Canadian Embassador to the UK, and my dad wanted to retire early. He was born here."

"Well, lucky for us. We're more than happy to have the son of a professional player on our team."

"Thanks." Ben mumbled, still looking a little shocked.

Harry walked back to the change rooms with Ginny. "Good job!" he told her. "I told you you'd get it!"

She blushed. "At least I tried out, and didn't just expect favoritism."

"Hey, don't worry. Those others didn't see you from my perspective. You were really smoking out there!"

"Thanks." Ginny said. "I'll see you later!" and they separated to opposite change rooms.

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They had a celebration for Ginny and Ben in the Gryffindor Common Room that night, and to everyone's surprise, Fred and George were waiting for them with armloads of sweets and tricks.

"McGonagall let us in! She says students can have family visitors whenever they want."George slapped Ron's back heartily in greeting.

"It's just that most don't realize it." added Fred. "We thought you could all use some Gred and Forge style of fun!" He immediately handed a toffee to Ben, and before Harry, Ron, or Ginny had the chance to tell him that he shouldn't eat it, he had stuffed it in his mouth, and promptly sprouted moose antlers.

Ben laughed so hard Harry thought he was going to wet himself.

"Zoology toffees!" George announced, handing them out to a few students that walked in the door at that moment. "A different animal in each one!" Some of the students looked excited, but most of them wrinkled their noses and made a quiet attempt to pass the candy off to someone else or to accidentally let it slip out of their hands to the floor.

"Ben, you remember Fred and George, my brothers." Ron said, chuckling at Ben's new look.

"Course I do! Why would I have eaten that toffee if I didn't?!"

Ginny gaped at him. "You mean you knew it would do something like that?" she pointed to the tall antlers on his head.

"Yeah. I wanted to see what it would do!"

"All right." Ron said slowly, clearly thinking he may have made the wrong decision for his chaser. "Fred, George, this is Ben Rogers. He's our other new chaser along with Ginny."

"They both shook his hand, and Ben went off to join his fellow third years to tell them about his getting the chaser spot, and to show off his new style.

George scoffed at Ron. "Of course Ginny is the new chaser! Mum told us about your letter you wrote to her about getting the captain spot. Good on you!"

"And if you hadn't let Ginny into that spot, we would have had to murder you in your sleep!" added Fred.

Ginny looked livid. "Don't say anything like that ever again, Fred! I got the spot on talent, and don't you dare even suggest otherwise!"

"Don't worry Gin. Only teasing." Fred mumbled apologetically. He even looked a little frightened.

"We heard that today was your tryouts, so we figured we'd come down here and celebrate with you." George pulled more sweets out of his pockets and laid them on the table. "Here you are. All compliments of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

"How is the shop doing?" Hermione asked brightly as she sauntered up behind Ron.

George shrugged. "Business is a little slow since Hogwarts started up again, but not all that bad, considering."

"And how's Percy?" Harry asked.

Fred answered. "He's doing much better. He's back to being a little more like himself, a bit quiet, but he's back to the Percy we all love to hate."

"He still doesn't want to come back to the Burrow, but that's all right. He's apologized to the family for ditching us, and he's practically hanging off of dad, isn't he Fred?"

Fred laughed. "We think he's trying to make up for all those things he said to dad just before he ditched us. Dad's been pretending that it never happened."

"Well that's all right." Ron said. "I was expecting it to be worse."

"Is he going to go back to work?" Ginny asked.

"He says he will, but he's going to take everything Fudge says to him with a grain of salt from now on."

They partied late, and Fred and George were a big hit with their new trick sweets. Even Hermione joined in, and grew herself an attractive elephant's trunk for a few minutes.

Ron, who was slowly shedding a squirrel's tail was the first to head up to the dormitories, and Harry followed behind him tugging embarrassedly at the donkey ears he still had. Both lost their animal features as they readied themselves for bed.

"Good job at the tryouts by the way." He told Ron. "You picked the good ones."

"I still don't understand why McGonagall chose me." Ron said seriously.

Harry chuckled. "She must've seen the Oliver Wood in you. My muscles are aching, and I wasn't even the one trying out!"

"Sorry." Said Ron, not sounding it at all.

They both lay back in their beds, and drew the curtains. Harry lay awake for a long time listening to Ron's snores, and to Seamus, Neville and Dean, who came in a little later.

Harry was thinking about Sirius again. He knew his father had been Seeker for the Gryffindor team when he was young, but had Sirius been on the team too? Harry regretted all the things he had never asked him, and resolved to write to Remus immediately the next morning.

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'Hello Harry.'

"Sirius!!" Harry's heart began to pound.

'How are you. I've missed you.'

"I've missed you too Sirius, I've been miserable."

'Why?'

"Because I'll have to live the rest of my life without you."

Sirius laughed, and it sounded like a bark. 'I'm here now aren't I?'

Harry didn't answer. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself.

'So what's this I hear about a prophecy?'

"It's so horrible Sirius. I can't do it."

'Maybe if you tell me all about it, I can help?'

Something was wrong with that statement. "Sirius, you're dead. You can't help me."

'What makes you so certain I can't help? Tell me.'

Harry shuddered. Something was incredibly wrong here. "Who are you." Harry asked angrily. You aren't Sirius!"

'Yes I am, don't be silly.'

Harry's heart nearly stopped as he realized the problem. "No you're not! You're VOLDEMORT!"

He screamed as the face of his godfather twisted into the serpentine features of the Dark Lord. The loving grey eyes crackled and turned red and full of hate.

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Harry screamed and sat up in bed, cold sweat running down his face. He leapt from under the covers, not looking over to see if he had woken any of the others. He grabbed his glasses and his wand from the bedside stand, and practically ran to Professor McGonagall's quarters.

He banged on the door loudly and after about a minute of this, professor McGonagall answered in her tartan lounging robe. She looked a little blurry eyed, and very surprised to see Harry on the other side of her door.

"Professor, I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need to talk!"

"By all means, come into my office." She held the door aside, and they both walked through a second door to the office area Harry knew had a main entrance to the left of the Gryffindor fat lady portrait. He briefly wondered how this was possible, since McGonagall's quarters, and her office were actually on opposite sides of Gryffindor Tower. The thought slipped his mind, as his panic took over. The trivialities of Hogwarts castle could wait.

"I've just had a dream about Voldemort again."

McGonagall gasped. "Was someone hurt?"

"Oh, no. It wasn't like that. He was trying to trick me again. I forgot to practice my occlumency before I went to bed, and he got into my dream. No one was attacked. I knew something was wrong, and once I saw that it was him, he left."

"Are you sure, Mister Potter?" McGonagall looked concerned.

"Very sure, however, I thought professor Dumbledore should know that he hasn't given up on the prophecy."

She gasped.

"He came to me pretending... pretending to be Sirius." Harry took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from crying. "He tried to trick me into telling him what I know."

McGonagall looked at him sharply. "You know the prophecy?"

"Well it's about me isn't it."

"I wouldn't know." She said.

"You don't want to." Harry answered a little more sharply than he'd intended.

"All right, Potter. I'll let professor Dumbledore know what you've told me."

"Thank you." Harry said quietly.

She paused. "Are you all right Harry?" She somehow forgot to look strict as she asked.

It was the first time that she had ever called him by just his first name, and perhaps that was why as soon as she opened her arms to him, he then found himself in her arms, sniffling back tears, and telling her all the details of his dream. Mostly he told her about how Sirius' face had morphed hideously into that of Voldemort, and about how upset he was about Sirius' death. He told her how all that he had ever wanted was to have some happy place to live where people listened to him. He told her how he now felt that that sort of home was out of his reach forever, and how guilty he felt saying that, since Sirius had meant more to him than just a nice family.

After a few minutes of this, Harry realized what he must look like. He was sixteen years old for crying out loud! He was almost taller than McGonagall herself! He must really look like a baby. He tried to pull away, and wipe his eyes, but she held him tightly and let him rest his head on her shoulder.

He suddenly realized how comfortable he was. The thought was disturbing, but he didn't push away from her.

It felt very much like having a mother. Or perhaps a Grandmother, taking into account McGonagall's age. The thought sent more tears streaming down Harry's cheeks, although if he were completely honest with himself, he might have admitted that they were tears of happiness.

"I understand completely." She mumbled into his hair. "I've lost many loved ones too. Some just because it was their time, and some -such as your parents- in the first war. It's hard having something you've wanted for so long to be so close, and then to lose it all in one fell swoop. I know you feel guilty for thinking about it that way. I do too."

Harry stared up at her, surprised.

"Yes, I did have a husband once, although only for a very short time." She sighed, remembering. "Don't let go of that guilt, Harry. It's not pleasant to have, but it's healthy. Especially since you know, somewhere inside you that it's not really your fault."

Harry took a deep breath, and sighed. Hearing her say that felt very good, and he was able to get himself back under control. "Thank you." He mumbled.

She patted his back, and conjured him a glass of water. She promised that any time he needed to talk again, she would be there to listen. She walked Harry back up to his dormitory, and as she turned to go, Harry said, "Wait."

She turned back toward him.

"If you would like, you can ask professor Dumbledore about the prophecy. He'll be able to show you what she said."

McGonagall's eyebrows lifted. "She?"

Harry nodded. "Trelawney."

McGonagall's face was suddenly very angry. "She's been telling students lies to frighten them since the first day she was here. I wouldn't believe her if I were you." She was sounding quite a bit like Ron at that very moment, and Harry couldn't help but smile. He had the feeling she wasn't supposed to be discussing her colleagues with a student in such a callous manner, but he also got the impression that she didn't feel much like she was speaking with a student.

"This one is real. She seems to only have the ability to tell prophecies about me. The one I'm talking about now is only the first of three. Just ask professor Dumbledore. You'll see."

She nodded, although she still seemed quite skeptical.

"Thank you professor."

She smiled, and Harry saw her spine straighen minutely as the word 'professor' hit her sense of dignity. "Any time." They went their separate ways.

Harry decided he would not be telling his friends about his dream the next morning. Not because he didn't want them to worry, but because he was trying his hardest to forget the whole thing. He hardly got any more sleep that night as it was. He spent the entire night alternately meditating, trying to banish all of his emotions, and thinking about asking McGonagall if she would mind adopting him. By the time the sun came up, he had realized the futility and stupidity of such an arrangement, and had gone back to meditating.

In fact, Harry had considerably less sleep the whole weekend.

Saturday he had planned to go in to Hogsmeade with everyone, and backing out would have been unacceptable. If his friends were going to be away from the castle, he knew he would have to be with them. If not for fun, then at least to keep them safe.

The only one who was not present in Hogsmeade was Neville, who was off visiting with his parents for the day. He returned in the evening in ebulliant spirits, and had to tell them all exactly what had transpired. They were as he had said, talking now, even though they were incredibly forgetful and sometimes a little childish in attitude. Still, Neville had to explain everything about how beautiful his mother's voice was, and how charming his father had been. Harry was very happy for him, so he stayed up to listen to the stories.

Sunday morning Ron woke everyone early for their first quidditch practice, and in the afternoon, Harry had quite a bit of homework to catch up on for classes the next day. Besides which, Neville had effectively emptied their dormitory by screeching away on his cello. Harry didn't think he could possibly sleep through that. Especially since it sounded very much as though someone were trying to murder Crookshanks.

By the time Monday rolled around, he still hadn't made up the missed sleep from Friday night. Harry reluctantly dragged himself out of bed for classes, looking blurry-eyed and worn out.

Trelawney's Defense class was not quite as funny now as it had been the week before, as Trelawney had decided that the only acceptable defensive charms to use were basic shield charms. Harry knew them all quite well, but it didn't stop him from being incredibly frustrated with her style. She wouldn't show the charm to them, only ranted on for an hour about how dangerous it could be if any spell rebounded in the wrong direction. She emphasized the importance of aiming a rebound away from the attacker, then proceeded to demonstrate in a rather halfhearted and clumsy fashion.

He had earned a detention from McGonagall by almost passing out on his desk in transfiguration, and knew that he would not be getting to bed as early that night as he'd hoped. As much as McGonagall had been willing to listen to him and act like the mother he'd never known, she was still his professor, and her duty would come first. She had given him a little pat on the arm as she reprimanded him, and he understood her meaning. He would probably be able to catch up on sleep in her detention on Wednesday, as long as she was still in an accomodating mood, and he hadn't done anything else to get her riled.

He found it infinitely easier to space out in Potions, but avoided looking at Snape at all costs. Mostly he took notes and chopped up ingredients. He didn't dare begin to brew, because he knew he would need more attention if he wanted to get a reasonable mark on his gravity potion.

As it was, Snape took fourty points away from Gryffindor. Twenty from Harry for working too slowly, and twenty from Neville, whose gravity potion had become so heavy that it collapsed the desk they were working at, and left a sizeable dent in the stone of the dungeon floor.

The entire week seemed to drag on like this, even the ebullient professor Vector wasn't able to snap him out of it with her newest topics of 'Equality for Witches,' that slowly morphed into 'Magic as Abstract Thought.' Harry found the subject more boring than even history of magic, although he was unable to stop himself from turning brilliantly red at her decision to keep naming him as an example of a 'light wizard'. It seemed to be the only thing he actually heard from her. Hearing his own name made him wake up a little each time, then when he realized that he wasn't in trouble, he would sink back down into a slouch, and try not to get noticed.

He didn't have another meeting of Dumbledore's Army until Thursday night, at which point Harry had finally been able to catch up on some of the sleep he'd missed in McGonagall's detention the night before, and was feeling slightly more refreshed.

The older group had all suceeded in conjuring their corporeal patronuses, and most were focusing on wandless and soundless magic. One of the greatest surprises came when Neville was the first and only member to be able to repeatedly combine both techniques. He had very little difficulty demonstrating this ability with the defensive spells he had learned last year, but was almost useless when it came to conjuring and transfiguration. Harry guessed that this was because of his lack of confidence in his transfiguration classes. He had barely passed his OWL after all, and wasn't taking the class anymore. Hermione had promised to tutor Neville so he could keep experimenting with his wandless ability.

The others were quite good when they needed to do one or the other, but none of them had been able to combine with the same skill as Harry or Neville. Hermione had succeeded once, but she hadn't been able to repeat the performance.

Before anyone got too frustrated, Harry decided to work on some more advanced shield charms. To keep things sort of in line with the younger group, he showed them two of the more basic shields, and had them use them to protect themselves from the disarming charm. He made sure to emphasize the idea that you could use the shields as a form of attack as well, just by aiming the rebound correctly. Ron and Hermione smirked at him confiently, while Parvati and Lavender simply frowned at him, and refused point blank to follow his instructions. Harry had to just shrug his shoulders and let them go about their business. He insisted however, that they learn to aim their rebound anyhow, explaining that 'if they didn't want to hurt someone, the least they could do was use the targets.' He knew they would change their minds if they ever encountered a real battle.

Harry was surprised at how satisfying it was to see them all progressing so quickly. He felt that they might soon be beyond him, and made a mental note to look up some defensive strategy so they could have a discussion class about it or something. He'd always had a good time talking theory with Remus, and none of the students here had ever experienced any theory except with that horrible Umbridge woman.

Writing to Remus for a few more ideas couldn't hurt either.

Harry's next letter to his friend was filled to the brim with defense strategy and theory questions. The whole thing was three parchments long. As he watched Hedwig fly out the tower window with a distinct effort to ignore the weight of the scroll, he thought about how he had never before written a longer letter to anyone, including Sirius.

The thought made him feel immensely guilty.

But he could live with that guilt.