Chapter 14 Hogwarts Most Talented Kid

After a week or so, the excitement of the match began to wear off. It only began to wear off, as Ron refused to let anyone forget it. He constantly brought it up in conversations and had no problem reliving the entire match, sometimes for an hour at a time. Harry, on the other hand, wished he'd let it go. Of course Harry liked the attention because he felt at least this time he deserved it, but he knew this instance was no different than anyone else winning, and, personally, he was tired of the pats on the back and shouts of congratulations raining down on him in the halls. In the end, he (very kindly) asked Ron to lay off. When that didn't work, Ginny and Hermione both had a word with him, and since then, he'd not said a thing pertaining to the match.

One night, a few weeks before N.E.W.T.s, Harry and the rest of the fifth and seventh years were up late studying, as usual. Most of them barely noticed Professor McGonagall enter and pin a few things to the notice board. Ginny, who wasn't studying for anything life-changingly important, strolled over to check it out.

When she returned, grinning from ear to ear and staring at Harry, she said, "Bad news. No more Hogsmead trips this year."

Confused, Harry asked, "Then why are you grinning like you've just been made queen?"

"I think you should go look for yourself."

Thankful for a break, however small, from studying with Hermione, Harry rose from his chair and followed Ginny across the room. She pointed to a large notice and Harry read:

So you think you're talented?

Why not win money for it?

April 24

7:00 p.m.

100 Galleon Prize!

The best talent scouts in the magic world might just choose you as the next Celestina Warbeck!

"But, Ginny, what's this got to do with me?" he asked stupidly. "I haven't got any talents except for playing Quidditch, and everyone's already seen that."

"Oh, right, Mr. I-taught-myself-to-play-the-guitar-and-now-I-sing-too."

"You can't possibly expect me to get up there and make a fool of myself!"

"Talent scouts, Harry!" she stressed, pointing at the notice. "You can't tell me you don't want to be famous." She stopped abruptly and put a hand over her mouth. "Oh."

"Exactly. I'm already famous and I hate it. Why make it worse?" Thinking the argument closed, Harry started off across the common room again. Ginny wasn't done, though, and she followed after him.

"But the experience would be good. Getting up in front of crowds and all."

Harry stopped and faced her. "You really want me to do this?"

She nodded and a huge grin spread across her face. "Please," she whined, adding in some puppy dog eyes for good measure.

Harry sighed and looked back at the bulletin board where a small crowd had gathered. "Every time…" he muttered. He sighed again. "All right," he agreed, "but only if you stay and watch. I'll need some emotional comfort after I lose," he added jokingly.

"So what is it?" Ron asked when Harry and Ginny returned to their work.

"A talent show," said Harry plainly.

"Oh?" said Hermione, looking up from her essay on the uses of graphorn skin.

"Yeah," Harry continued. "Ginny wants me to do it."

Ron glared at Ginny. He obviously believed Harry would never want to do anything of the sort. Actually deep down, Harry thought it would be fun, and he told Ron this. He'd never been on stage before, although he'd heard about talent shows at school before Hogwarts.

"Why would Dumbledore do this?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Maybe to take out minds off the war and everything. Who knows? I mean he is Dumbledore, does he really need a reason?" said Ron admiringly.

"Well, in that case, I agree with Ginny, Harry," said Hermione. "I think you should do it. What would you do, though?"

"Well, I could play a song on my guitar, and maybe sing a bit," he said thoughtfully. "Yeah, I could. But which song?"

"When did you get a guitar?" Ron asked loudly. Harry shushed him with a look.

"I saved up for one by doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. Then I sorta taught myself how to play," he explained quickly. Then he turned back to the matter at hand. "But which song?"

"I don't know any but that one," Ginny said, "but it was really good. Maybe you should do that one."

"That certainly is the best, by far," Harry thought aloud. After a few more moments deliberation he said, "Alright, I'll do it." He turned back to his work without another word.


As the show drew nearer, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny decided to sit in on some of Harry's practices and critique him. He would always do very well until someone mentioned something about showing other people.

"No offense, Harry, but you've never been that great in front of crowds," nettled Hermione one afternoon.

"I'm getting better," he said unconvincingly. He attempted to play again, but he was more than a little off. The sour note made him wince.

The week before Harry's performance, he still refused to play. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who all truly believed Harry had a shot at winning, were fed up with his excuses and decided to come up with a plan.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked as Ron and Hermione entered the dormitory that Tuesday.

"Library," said Ron shortly. Harry noticed him shoot Hermione a sideways glance, and he wondered to himself what they were hiding.

A few minutes in, Harry successfully made it through the entire song without stopping. He'd found it difficult to concentrate while his two best friends kept peeking knowingly at each other when they thought Harry wasn't looking. Finally he said, "Am I missing something?"

Hermione laughed and Ron said sheepishly, "No." Hermione laughed harder and Ron blushed. "Well, yes," he finally managed.

Hermione stood and walked over to the door. When she opened it, nearly all of Harry's Gryffindor friends stood outside, grinning broadly. Ginny waved at him from the front.

"I never knew you could do that!" exclaimed Neville loudly.

"I hear the ladies love a man who can play the guitar," said Seamus slyly. "Do you think you could teach me?"

Harry was torn between gratitude at his friends trying to break his stage fright and his embarrassment. He felt like Percy who used to get caught singing in the shower by other inhabitants at the Burrow.

Ron waved away the others and Ginny stepped in and flopped down laughing on Harry's bed. "You should have seen your face!" she screeched joyfully.

Harry glared hard at Ron who said, "Don't look at me! It was Ginny's idea"

Ron was suddenly hit in the face with a pillow. "You said you wouldn't tell!" Ginny shouted at him. Then more softly to Harry she said, "Can you blame me? I mean, you were really being ridiculous. You needed to get over stage fright and obviously our telling you that you're good isn't enough. I just thought if you heard it from others…" She trailed off.

Harry tried to glare at her, but he found it difficult to stay mad at her. He sighed and said, "As much as I hate to admit it, I actually enjoyed that."

Ron laughed loudly.


"Nervous, Harry?" Ginny asked innocently as she and Harry sat backstage, waiting for Harry's act.

"No," he said, a bit too quickly and enthusiastically. He turned from checking his appearance in a mirror and asked, "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you've never been one who cared how he looked, yet I've seen you check your reflection tonight more than you have your entire life," she said pointedly.

"You're right," he admitted. He turned his back on the mirror. "I suppose I am a bit nervous."

"Only a bit?" Ginny smirked at him and crossed her arms.

"Have some pity on me. I'm not used to this stuff," he joked.

She turned him to face her and wrapped her arms around him. "I'll have pity on you if you take my word that you'll do absolutely wonderful—"

Harry started to turn towards the mirror again.

"And that you look fine. I should be the most envied girl in the school after tonight," she added for good measure.

Harry smiled at her.

"So, Potter, are you prepared to lose spectacularly to me?" asked a voice jokingly from behind.

Harry spun to face Malfoy. He glanced quickly around to make sure they weren't being watched before saying, "I thought you weren't speaking to me after that Quidditch game."

"Nah," said Malfoy. "I mean, I wanted to win, but it just wasn't worth it."

"So what are you doing in this?" Harry asked, glad to avoid another confrontation with Malfoy.

"Excerpt from Julius Caesar."

"Being a bit daring, aren't we, Malfoy, reading from a play written by a Muggle?"

"Shows how much you know, Potter. For you information, Shakespeare was as pureblooded as me. How else do you think he managed to write all those plays in such a short period of time?" argued Malfoy.

Harry raised his hands in defeat. "Suits me right for being so blind to the obvious," he said sarcastically.

"Ummm, Malfoy," Ginny said, speaking up for the first time. "You might want to go."

"Go? Where?"

"You're up."

"Whoops!" he shouted as he ran out onto the stage.

Calmly, he smoothed his hair back, cleared his throat, and began to speak:

"Why, man, doth he bestride the narrow world like a colossus, and we petty men walk under his huge legs and peep about, to find ourselves dishonorable graves. Men at sometimes are masters of their fate. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars but in ourselves that we are underlings…"

Harry didn't hear the rest. He, like the rest of the crowd, was entranced by the emotion Malfoy poured into his monologue. For a moment, he forgot this was his seventeen-year-old ex-enemy on stage at a wizarding school. He seemed to become Cassius.

Bringing himself back to his senses, he whispered to Ginny, "I can't go on after that!"

"Yes you can!" she assured him. "Once you get out there, they won't even remember Malfoy."

Harry looked back out to the crowd, where everyone was still hanging on Malfoy's every word. "Ginny that's not Malfoy anymore. He is Cassius."

"Who's Cassius?"

Harry ignored her. "That's it. I can't do. I'll just have to tell them I've got the flu or something."

"Harry James Potter! You are not going to chicken out now!" she scolded in an amazingly good impression of her mother. "You are going to get out there, you will sing, you will play music, and you will enjoy it!" She looked over his shoulder and finished, "And you will do it now." She kissed his cheek quickly, shoved his guitar into his hands and pushed him on stage.

With a nervous gulp, Harry moved to the center of the stage and seated himself on a high stool. He breathed deep and strummed an offhand melody. "I think you all know this song," he said as the tune changed to "Mary had a Little Lamb." He stared right at Filch, who was lingering near the back of the hall and smirked. Filch blanched and his features darkened. He heard Ginny chuckle loudly from off stage as every jaw in the crowd dropped.

"What? Don't you like it?" Harry asked with all the seriousness he could muster. Suddenly he laughed. "You didn't think I would actually get up here and sing a nursery song to you, did you?"

The students were silent. He noticed a few people look questioningly at each other.

"Obviously you did. Well, I'm not," he finished hurriedly. "I've got something else a little bit more mature."

"Oh, Harry, that was amazing!" Ginny squealed as she threw her arms around him. "You'll win for sure!"

"I don't know about that. I'm just glad I got up there without making a fool of myself!"

Ron suddenly appeared at her shoulder. He was beaming. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant," he said, clapping Harry on the back.


"And, now, I'd like to have all the contestants back on stage so I can announce the winner," said Dumbledore with a benign smile on his face.

"Good luck, Harry," whispered Hermione as Harry strode back out onstage.

"I'd just like to congratulate all of you. If it were up to me, you'd all win! But, it's your fellow students who make that decision and only one of you can be named Hogwarts' Most Talented Kid." He grinned at the squirming performers and laughed.

"I can tell you're all anxious, so perhaps I'll relieve you. In third place, earning fifty points for her house…Pansy Parkinson."

She stepped forward with a small curtsey and accepted the trophy held out by the headmaster. "Well done," he congratulated.

Harry felt his chances for making it into the top three dwindling. Pansy had played the piano quite well; there was no way Harry could have beaten her. Dumbledore's voice brought Harry back to reality.

"And in second place, earning a nice one hundred points to his house…Mr. Harry Potter."

Harry stepped forward with a look of mild surprise on his face. He grinned broadly as the headmaster handed him a trophy and returned to his spot, eager to see the winner.

"And finally, Hogwarts' Most Talented Kid, and winner of two hundred points," here he paused to let the suspense build. Then, with a knowing grin he said quietly, "Mr. Draco Malfoy."

Draco walked numbly forward and thanked the headmaster while Harry and the rest of the contestants slipped quietly off the stage.

"Congratulations!" Ginny shrieked as Harry twirled her around. He was in quite a good mood. He'd never thought he had any talents aside from Quidditch, and suddenly he'd been proven wrong.

"Harry, someone here would like to talk to you," said Hermione coolly as she approached him. A man Harry had never seen before was following her and as soon as he saw Harry, he pushed Hermione out of the way and stuck out a hand.

"Bob Markosowitz," the man said pompously as he pumped Harry's arm up and down enthusiastically. "I must congratulate you on behalf of Groove Records on a wonderful performance tonight."

"Er—thanks," Harry said unsurely.

The man was silent for a moment and he stood staring at Harry, who began to feel more than a little uncomfortable. Slowly, Harry started to turn away, hoping the man was finished.

"Wait, Harry, I can call you Harry, right?" Bob said quickly. With a sigh, Harry turned back around. "Of course I can," the man continued with an oily smile.

"What do you want," Harry asked tiredly.

"Well," Bob began, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulder and leading him away from his friends, "we at Groove Records are always on the lookout for new talent. And after watching you tonight, kid, I saw that you got something we're looking for."

"What have I got? A scar on my forehead and the last name Potter," Harry spat cruelly.

Bob frowned at him. Then he lowered his voice and continued, "I won't lie to you. Your past and the things that you've done would help you a lot."

"No thanks," Harry said, heading back to his friends.

"But I could make you famous! I know you'd like that."

Harry stopped and looked the man right in the eyes. "Do you have any clue what you just said?" Bob shook his head looking a bit nervous. "Of course you don't. Well, I'll help you. You said you could make me famous. Now I'm going to tell you something not many people know," he paused one hand on his temple. "Oh wait, everyone knows this. I am famous! I am already more famous than you could ever hope to make me! And you know something else too; I hate it. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks." Again Harry turned back to his friends.

"Don't make a decision you'll regret later, Harry!"

"You know, I feel sorry for you, so I'm going to give a you a bit of help. I know you deal with music, but I've got a friend over there that is an amazing actor. You should talk to him. Find him an agent. Good night."

Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Thank you, Harry," she gasped. "I needed to see you put that overgrown, pompous," here she growled, "in his place."

"I think I'm more proud than I've been all night," beamed Ginny.