32 (A Remarkable Endeavour)
Harry was already in the common room when the sun first rose behind the windows. He was awakening by some miserable nightmares about the past. They were following each other in a consecutive order. The cries of his mother while dying came first, and then Quirell was turning into rock and dying. Mrs. Norris was petrified, and so was Hermione. The dementors were gliding along to catch him, and he was desperate to perform one good Patronus that would vanish them all together. He was reliving the dream he had about Voldemort killing Frank Bryce, while Nagini and Peter Pettigrew watched in delight. He was shivering in his place, beginning to see the Death Eaters' arrival at Voldemort's father's grave. Cedric was dead, and Harry was left alone. Harry was then transported to the Department of Mysteries, along with his fellow friends. Sirius fell beyond the veil, as Bellatrix cruelly killed him…
The sight of those nightmares had a deadening effect on Harry by now, and he was used them. Again, he remorsefully regretted giving up Occlumency, even though Professor Snape refused him coming to his office for any more practice.
The common room was deserted, except for the solitary Harry sitting on the armchair beside the fireplace. Even though he was inches away from the warm flames of fire, he felt intense cold because of those nightmares that kept coming to his mind repeatedly. They were just incessant, and he couldn't stop them. Yet, he thought that sometimes, his dreams and nightmares would be intentional. But he never figured it out, at least not by himself.
Two hours have passed so long, and Harry heard a squelching noise coming from the boys' dormitory. It was none other than Ron, looking really tired. He had blackness under his eyes, and he staggered to the stairs.
"Good…morning," yawned Ron.
"Hello," responded Harry quietly, his ability to talk diminishing.
"Ready for…for today's…training, Harry?" inquired Ron, sleepily, as he headed to the bathroom.
"Not yet, but I will be," mouthed Harry, and stretched out his hands to get warmed by the fire.
Ron nodded, and went into the bathroom.
Again, Harry was left in solitude, peacefully.
Several moments later, he heard another sound. It came from the girls' dormitory. Hermione had clearly just waked up. At first, she didn't realize Harry was there, but then she saw a blur of him.
"Good morning," she tittered softly, beaming at him.
He smiled at her, knowing that his grin would be enough of a response. Simultaneously, he glanced dreamingly at her; she was wearing a cotton blue shirt, and a short skirt, which was emerald green. Harry was arising with love from the inside.
Momentarily, he climbed up the stairs, and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione delightfully kissed him back on his lips, and walked away to the bathroom. After that, he stepped into his dormitory to get changed.
As always, he took his pyjamas off, and wore his trousers. After that came his old messy white long sleeved shirt, and he secured all the buttons. Reluctantly, he put on his tie. Next came his old black jumper. Finally, he put on his heavy cloak, with the Gryffindor symbol shining yellow. Hastily, he wore his socks and shoes. Although he had loved to comb his messy hair, he knew that it would never lie flat.
Neville, Seamus, and Dean were just beginning to open their huge mouths to yawn. The first one to wake up was the energetic Dean. After him were Seamus, and then Neville.
Harry quickly said hello, and went down to the common room. It was now shined with the sun's brilliant rays, in addition to the glowing of the fire.
"I just can't wait till afternoon," spluttered Ron, excitedly.
"Calm down Ron, or you'll get a heart attack," commented Harry, not believing how eager Ron was to try the Wronski Feint. It was indeed a dangerous move, which no one but experts in the sport knew how to perform it carefully. Harry had a slight belief in himself, and thought hopefully that he'll be able to do it. He has always dreamed of it, ever since he saw Krum do it during the Quidditch World Cup. Gladly, he imagined himself being called by old Ludo Bagman, his voice magnified a hundred times, just to welcome Harry to the pitch. Nevertheless, Harry knew that mastering the Wronski Feint needed a lot of hard work, and unbelievable courage. Not only that, but what if his broom got broken into shreds? He had already lost his unforgettable Nimbus two thousand, when it accidentally got blown away to the Whomping Willow. He also lost his Firebolt, which happened to be a present from his dead godfather, when he gave it away to his love. The Firebolt X6, as Harry thought, would be his last hope. Three brooms in six years were too much, thought Harry.
The Great Hall of course was bustling with owls, here and there. Harry, Ron, and Hermione thought they saw an eagle owl, which happened to be the property of Draco Malfoy, land on his ungrateful arm.
"So, Harry," began Ron, "would you mind going over the plan once more?"
"What plan, Ron?" asked Harry, as he poured himself some juice.
"You know," whispered Ron, "tonight's plan…the rescue mission."
Harry grinned at Ron, and looked at him like he was looking at a newborn baby.
"Why are you so worried? You'll bring us all bad luck if you don't stop your wining," commented Harry, giggling.
"Harry's right, Ron," agreed Hermione, taking a bite out of some French toast, "don't get too excited."
"I have always wanted to save siblings," prattled Ron.
Harry and Hermione raised their eyebrows at him.
"So now you're joining us just for heroism?" asked Hermione, giggling.
"No I'm not! Look at Harry! He saved Ginny once, and saved your neck too!" mouthed Ron briskly.
"I didn't seek heroism when I saved Ginny, nor when I did save Hermione. I did it because I knew it would be my fault and responsibility if they die," muttered Harry.
"Yeah, whatever," interrupted Ron, "forget about this heroism part."
The sound of the bell shook around the castle, and sent everybody to their classes. Ron tentatively joined Harry and Hermione to class, because he would rather stay up all day thinking about a better plan than attending all the lessons. Nevertheless, it was inevitable to avoid classes, with the exception of being sick.
"Good morning everyone," yelled Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher.
"Good morning Professor Sprout," yelled everybody back.
"Now then," she spoke, "today, we shall be studying the effect of Spikatori on several creatures. "
Out of nowhere, she brought one dead ferret, one lizard, one dove, and one puppy.
"Oh look at the puppy," whispered Parvati Patil, "he's so cute."
"Yeah," agreed Lavender, "the only problem is that he'll get killed."
"Now pay attention," twittered Professor Sprout, "if I sting the dead ferret with this Spikatorus, what do you expect to see?"
Everyone student shot the other confused looks, indicating confusion. Not even Hermione knew the answer.
"Ah, I expected so," sighed Professor Sprout, "well, we'll just see what's going to happen, shall we not?"
Instantly, she grabbed the Spikatorus carefully, her fingers between the deadly poisonous spikes, and stung the dead ferret on its neck. Cruelly as a Spikatorus could be, it burned the ferret's skin, tearing it apart, revealing the flesh from inside. Everybody was disgusted, but at the same time, rather fascinated.
"See? A Spikatorus has the ability to melt the flesh, after secreting the venom inside of course. Now let's move on to the lizard."
The students were all watching with curious hungry eyes.
Professor Sprout, again, held the Spikatorus carefully and stung the lizard on its head. Momentarily, the lizard's skin was thickening and eventually dried up.
"The venom of a Spikatorus could cause a lizard a great deal of dehydration, as you can see," explained Professor Sprout, self assured.
"This is growing duller everyday," murmured Harry, "I don't think I'm going to study Herbology next year."
"Neither am I, the subject seems…um…old-fashioned," agreed Ron, revealing his viewpoint.
Hermione looked at the pair of them as though they were ridiculous.
"Look here Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley," yelled Professor Sprout, scaring the wits out of them.
She slowly bent the Spikatorus and stung the dove's head. Tiny icicles were forming around its eyes, and the beak was frozen. Soon, the whole body was frigid.
"Spikatori possess the quality of freezing birds," muttered Professor Sprout, moving on to the puppy.
"Not the puppy," spoke Parvati in grief.
Instantly, the Spikatorus stung its head, and within a heartbeat, the puppy was vaporized.
Parvati was weeping on Lavender's shoulder, which sympathetically patted her on the head.
Ron had an expression of loathing and disgust on his pale face.
After another wearisome forty five minutes, the class was finally dismissed. They had an awful experience killing animals themselves using the Spikatori. But Professor Sprout mentioned how vital learning aftermath of stings and bruises was.
"Hey, what are Crabbe and Goyle doing?" asked Ron, looking at the two behind greenhouse one.
"Let's go, quietly," instructed Harry, intrigued.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved on to greenhouse one, vigilant to not make a noise. They crept around the windows, and stuck their eyes beside the corner to glance at what Crabbe and Goyle were up to.
"Yeah, he'll love it," they hear Crabbe talking.
"Definitely, 'The Sorrowtuckle Champion', that'll be a fine name," wailed Goyle.
Hermione couldn't help giggling at the pathetic blokes, who existed to kind of worship Draco.
Crabbe and Goyle carried on their private conversation, and Harry thought he'd saw a gleaming badge sticking out of Crabbe's pocket.
"We'll have to polish it before giving it to him," carried on Goyle, "he wouldn't like a scratch."
Ron was exhilarated by their ridiculous idea, even though they did everything to support Draco.
"Let's move on," advised Hermione, as they were running out of time. They were due in Divination next. More specifically, Hermione had to flee to her Arithmancy class, Ron to Divination, and Harry to his own classroom.
"See you," mouthed Harry, as he left Hermione and Ron in the corridors, each one running to the classroom that awaited them.
Harry was teaching the second year Gryffindors and Slytherins a highly amusing lesson. He was introducing them to Boggarts, which was naturally mandatory on third years. Perhaps he thought of preparing them for the worst. Luckily though, he had seen a Boggart previously and learned how to react. At that time, his worst fear was, as Professor Lupin commented, fear itself. Whenever a Boggart approached him, it turned into a Dementor. Fortunately, Professor Lupin had consented to teach Harry a highly advanced charm, way beyond the knowledge of Ordinary Wizarding Level. It was called the Patronus Charm. To conjure the Patronus, Harry had to think of a happy memory, a memory that had a clear strong effect. Simply, he had to mutter "Expecto Patronum", and a white blinding flash of light was released from his wand. It usually drove the dementors away, avoiding being soul-sucked!
"Everyone, come with me," pointed out Harry, as he lead the students to the fifth floor. The entered a room that was deserted most of the time. What stood out in the empty room was a great big closet that was covered from bottom to top with dust.
"Stand back please," spoke Harry, and the immediately took some steps towards the back of the room.
"Listen, who here knows what Boggarts are?" asked Harry.
"They're shape shifters that turn into the thing we fear the most, yet no one knows how it really looks like," tittered Roberta Harrison.
Harry was amazed by her knowledge.
"Excellent! Five points to Slytherin, but if you don't mind Ms. Harrison, don't speak out of turn again," joked Harry.
She smirked at him, and he carried on explaining about Boggarts.
When everyone had a fairly good idea about the needed qualities for facing a Boggart, they stood in a straight line. There was a lot of pushing and nudging.
"Well then, are you ready?" inquired Harry, as he looked at the second year Gryffindor.
He hesitated at first, but then nodded and took out his wand.
"Alohomora!" muttered Harry, and the doors of the closet were sprung open instantly. Out of the closet, stepped a very strange creature Harry never saw before. It was made of flames!
The first year Gryffindor had wild eyes, and a terribly quick breath. The creature was coming nearer, spreading out what looked like hands.
"Riddikulus!" screamed the boy, and the creature was wearing pants with several hearts decorated on them.
Everyone let out laughs and applauded for the little Gryffindor. Harry cheered too, and giggled at the creature's humorous sight.
Next came an ambitious Slytherin girl, her wand held in a very firm grip.
She stood there for a moment, waiting for the creature to turn into her biggest fear. Instantly, the Boggart transformed into a very hideous mummy, with an eye patch.
"Riddikulus!" she screeched, and the mummy was playing hopscotch.
Harry laughed out louder than any other student in the room, incredibly tantalized by those people's worst fears.
Next in the line was a shy young Gryffindor, which looked no older than nine. He was shaking, and his wand nearly slipped out of his hand. He reminded Harry of Neville, the extremely forgetful boy, who's worst fear was weirdly Professor Snape.
The mummy was changing into a large vicious Hydra. The three heads were glancing cunningly at the young Gryffindor, who had no idea what was going to happen next. But Harry had faith in the little boy, and believed he could do it.
"Riddikulus!" squeaked the Gryffindor, and the Hydra instantly transformed into a clown.
"Well done!" complimented Harry, encouraging the frightened Gryffindor.
For the remainder of the time, the class had more exhilarating moments with the Boggart until Harry finally summoned it back into the closet. Then, they all headed back to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, all chattering about the cunning Boggart and the different sights they've witnessed.
"Splendid performance, everyone! Fifteen points to Gryffindor and Slytherin!" mouthed Harry.
The Gryffindors and Slytherins felt like kissing him.
The class was dismissed, and Harry gathered his books and left his classroom.
"I had fun teaching them about Boggarts," admitted Harry, as he found Ron and Hermione.
"Boggarts? For second years?" interrogated Ron, puzzled.
"It's not appropriate for their age Harry," commented Hermione.
"Well, they need some preparation. Their fears were childish…what about when they grow up? At least they know the basics by now," continued Harry.
"Anyway, Hermione and I were thinking of a plan," burbled Ron.
"Don't tell me it's about tonight," sighed Harry.
"No, not at all," declined Hermione, grinning.
"We've been thinking about a possible way to screw up things for Malfoy," talked Ron proudly, "and we thought of designing a badge, having written on it 'Hail Malfoy, the Sorrowtuckle loser'."
"What?" Harry was giggling.
"It's a payback for what he's done in the past," muttered Hermione, "Ron suggested adding 'slimy' just before 'loser', but I told him there won't be any space left."
"That's a perfect amusing idea. Wait till you see the look on Malfoy," chuckled Harry.
"We'll use the badges Crabbe and Goyle design, of course after stealing them, and change the words on them. Just picture Malfoy's face when receiving the badges from his cronies," mentioned Ron.
"Look, here they come," whispered Hermione, pointing to the direction of the astronomy tower. Crabbe and Goyle were right behind Draco, following him to the dungeons.
"Let me do it," chuckled Harry, and he moved forward, hiding behind a wizard statue.
"Quick, summon the badge sticking out of that gorilla's pocket," murmured Ron, laughing quietly. Hermione watched in delight as Harry deftly summoned the badge, unobtrusively.
"Accio badge!" he muttered, and within seconds, the badge that Crabbe and Goyle planned to work on, was rushing in the air towards Harry. He caught it with his hand, and gave it to Hermione.
"Brilliant!" she spoke, excitedly.
"The two pea-brains didn't even notice it," mouthed Ron, and then they walked to the dungeons, fearing the next lesson, Double Potions.
At lunch, Harry met Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker. She had a fairly small talk with him, but didn't go into deep things that Harry dreaded. She had pointed out that the Ravenclaw team was getting better, and the training was much more intense. They had their Quidditch match in two weeks, and Harry was stunned how time flew by so quickly.
"So, how did it go?" asked Ron, giggling, as Harry sat down on the bench.
"What? Cho? It was good. She was just reminding me about the match we've got," he wept honestly.
"And?" asked Ron again. "Nothing came up?"
"What would you expect him to say, Ron?" inquired Hermione, annoyed. "Their relationship is over, ever since last year."
"How do you know all this?" interrogated Ron, watching Hermione suspiciously.
"Because I know it," claimed Hermione earnestly, "you've seen the way she cried every time Harry did something heroic or amazing. It always reminded her of Cedric."
"Anyway, it's like Hermione said. Cho's just another friend," admitted Harry.
Hermione nodded in agreement, as she placed some fried chicken in her plate.
"But Harry, she kissed you!" tittered Ron, still grinning at his mate. "And you were in love! How can you end it so easily?"
Harry was breathing heavily now, and Hermione was worried that he'll accidentally mention their secret.
"Ron…um…I'd rather not talk about it, let's eat for now," murmured Harry.
Hermione was relieved.
"Well, do you have your eye on someone else?" interrogated Ron, looking sideways at Hermione.
"Ron, just shut up!" snapped Hermione. He was alarmed, and silenced at last.
"Hey, what's Colin doing?" asked Harry, as his eyes caught attention.
Colin Creevey had his camera out, and he was taking photographs of Lavender Brown.
"Hey, what is he really doing?" wondered Ron, and moved across the table to discover.
"Hello Ron," tittered Colin, "I'm taking pictures for students of the month."
"Students of the what?" asked Ron, perplexed.
"It's for the Study Society," whispered Colin, "hasn't Hermione Granger told you?"
"No, she always keeps secrets from me," claimed Ron, "but what is all this about, really?"
"Our leader, Hermione Granger, has decided that each month one male and female students were supposed to be awarded for their analytical thinking and reasoning, in addition to normal participation in discussions. So, two were chosen personally be her. And as you can see, the female students is Lavender Brown…"
"And who's the male one?" interrupted Ron.
"Um…it's…erm...you!" mouthed Colin, beaming at his face.
Ron got a strange look on his face, as though he hadn't realized what was just said.
"Me?" asked Ron.
"Yes, you," came Hermione's voice.
"You chose…me?" inquired Ron, amazed.
"I told you that you'll be a great match with Lavender," she spoke solemnly, smiling at him.
"But…"
"But nothing Ron," declared Colin, "come here and let me take your picture."
Ron moved and stood in the aisle between the Gryffindor and the Slytherin house-table. Colin adjusted his camera so that Ron's face could fit inside the frame.
A flash, and his photo was taken.
Ron felt dizzy a bit, because of the light.
"Now, Lavender," muttered Hermione, "if you would please come here, and stand beside Ron."
She moved obediently, curious about Hermione's order.
"A group picture…well, not really a group," joked Colin, and he lifted his camera to his eye level. Ron was standing upright beside Lavender; she smiled at the camera, and so did he. Another flash, and it was done.
"That wasn't difficult to do, was it?" asked Hermione, beaming at them.
"Good job Ron," Lavender offered her compliment to him.
"Uh…thanks, congratulations!" he replied.
"Thank you," and she scurried away to join Ginny and Parvati.
"Great job, Ron," spoke Harry, as another bite of spaghetti entered his mouth.
It was as if Ron became an instant celebrity. He had already been famous for one milestone; that's when old Sirius, as Ron thought, tried to attack him with his long knife.
Finally, the school day was over, and everybody was extremely tired.
"Listen, we've got a meeting for seventh years, Study Society, and then…" began Hermione.
"And then we'll practice the Wronski Feint," reminded Ron.
"I was going to say that we'll once more plan the escape," whispered Hermione.
"Yeah, but first, we'll try the Wronski Feint, right Harry?"
"Sure," he answered, and tired as he was, he began to write his Transfiguration homework. He took off his shoes, which were becoming tight due to the growth of his feet, to recline. He placed a thick pillow on his lap, and laid parchment on it.
Meanwhile, Hermione was knitting some hats for S.P.E.W, and Ron was finishing off his late History of Magic homework. Of course, he needed help from Hermione. Nevertheless, she decline, and though about knitting some hat, since it was a long time since she last did.
"The house-elves are going to report this for Dumbledore one day, you'll see, Hermione," spoke Ron, exasperated.
"What's more essential, Ron, is that they learn that they have a value in the community of wizard kind, and we should treat them kindly, and give them appropriate wages," explained Hermione, using her trite explanation.
Ron gave up convincing her to stop this ridiculous S.P.E.W business, because he always knew that she was obsessed with elfish rights.
Around five o'clock, the seventh year Gryffindors congregated in the common room. Hermione had just finished knitting the ninety-ninth hat when they began arriving, and that reminded her of the time. Dennis Creevey woke up from his short nap, and took out his quill to record notes during the meeting. Neville, the messenger, was already sitting on the couch, waiting for the meeting to begin.
"Allright, all of you, sit in a circle," instructed Hermione, as she too joined them on the floor. "So, what first?"
"Well, we've got this Transfiguration homework that seems to be dreadful," spoke Kevin Slimshard.
"Yeah, McGonagall is really toughening thing up for us," mouthed another seventh year, Sara Triksley.
"Ok, well, take it out first, and then we'll talk about it," talked Hermione, and she was glancing at the pieces of parchment.
Harry was nearly finished with his own Transfiguration homework when they started the detailed discussion. It was clear that Hermione had some new things to learn, which would easily prepare her for next year. She was always excited and eager to learn something new.
It so happened that Harry was stuck on the question before the last.
"Hermione?" asked Harry, and she immediately turned her head away from the seventh years.
"Yes, Harry?"
"I was wondering," he began, looking at the question, "how is transfiguring plants related to that of solid non-living things?"
"Well, you'll have to mention that the wand movement is similar, and the incantation used in plant transfiguration doesn't include the last letter in that of transfiguration of non-living thing, and what else? Oh, they both change into animals most of the time," explained Hermione. Harry had copied her explanation word-by-word, grateful for her help.
"Thanks for helping me out," commented Harry, but Hermione has already turned her head back to the seventh years' discussion.
Finally, the meeting was over, and it was a short one. It only took fifty-eight minutes to truly understand the content within the homework. As usual, Hermione had her own copy of notes, and handed them to Dennis Creevey, collecting them into one huge portfolio.
The seventh years were heading back to their dormitories, and they were all exhausted.
"Ok, sixth years," began Hermione, and then she noticed Ginny, "and you Ginny. Let's get changed."
"For what?" asked Ginny curiously, chewing a Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans.
"Quidditch practice of course," replied Hermione, as she, Harry, and Ron walked out of the door, "meet you in the changing rooms."
"Oh, I forgot my broom," mentioned Harry, and summoned his Firebolt X6.
"Good point, Harry," muttered Ron, and he summoned his Cleansweep. Apparently, following Hermione around to wherever she went made them forget about bringing the broomsticks.
When they stepped outside, the sky was dark and murky. Several raindrops were starting to fall down, and the clouds were so thick. There stood the Quidditch pitch, stained by the raindrops.
"Allright," spoke Harry, riding his broomstick, "let's fly!"
Instantly, every member mounted their broom, and soared in the air behind Harry.
Hermione had recently polished her Firebolt, which was originally Harry's, and was disappointed that it was going to get soaked with rain.
"Now listen up!" yelled Harry, as he was hovering sixty feet above the ground. "We'll first practice some old moves, for the chaser, beater, and keeper positions."
Harry had the Quaffle in his hand, and he instantly threw it up in the air. Hermione, Neville, and Ginny hurried up on their brooms to catch it.
"Lavender! Parvati! Try to stop them, and grab the Quaffle!" shouted Harry, with Ron by his side.
He watched carefully as Hermione deftly passed around the two beaters, and headed to the goalpost. She had raised her hand, aiming at the opening, but Parvati snatched it out of nowhere. Hermione, accompanied by Neville and Ginny, soared using her Firebolt to the far end of the Quidditch pitch. Cleverly, Ginny stood in Lavender's way, turning right and left following her move. She stretched out her hand, but slipped off her broomstick. Here was where Harry got worried, but luckily, she got back on.
Lavender intended to pass the Quaffle to Parvati, but Hermione had already caught it. She was accelerating with her magnificent Firebolt, heading towards the lower left goalpost. Instantly, Lavender chased her around. Hermione purposefully dropped the Quaffle. Clumsy Neville caught it, although he was going to drop it with his cold shaky hands any moment. That move attracted Lavender, and she flew downwards.
"Neville! Throw it up!" it was Hermione's sharp voice, instructing Neville to throw the Quaffle back to her.
Hermione immediately received the Quaffle, and turned around in a circle, flying directly to the goalpost. Lavender needed help from Parvati, who was unfortunately being chased by Ginny.
"Look at her go," commented Ron, sitting calmly on his Cleansweep. Harry had a feeling in his heart that Hermione was going to score a goal anytime now. And indeed, he was correct.
Neville and Ginny gave her a thumbs-up, and patted her on the shoulders.
"Great move, Hermione," spoke Harry and Ron together.
"Thank you," she replied, pulling her hair backwards.
"Now, as you saw, that trick of dropping the Quaffle and then receiving it momentarily by the teammate can be helpful. It distracts the opposing player, and that's its purpose," explained Harry.
"We'll try out the Wronski Feint after we're done with beater training," sighed Harry, and Parvati and Lavender returned to their positions. Ginny was right behind them, and so was Neville.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had two Bludgers in their grips, and the one Quaffle. They took turns in trying to score goals, or more likely, having a go at Neville and Ginny, unintentionally of course.
Parvati and Lavender were totally lost. Each time Harry threw a Bludger, they were disturbed. They didn't know to which corner they would move. Of course, the trio scored many goals. Luckily, Lavender saved three of them.
"Now, the purpose of this training was to help you concentrate on corners," began Harry, as he put the Bludgers and Quaffle in the cart he summoned from the ground, "always look at the front. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the direction of movement of your opponent. It's also necessary to focus on the middle goalpost."
The rain was getting heavier, and their vision was impaired.
"Impervius!" muttered Harry, as he made his glasses waterproof. "Right then, we'll continue with the keeper training. Ron, if you would take your position."
Ron nodded his head, and flew to his goalpost, hovering in front of the left goalpost.
"We'll take turns into scoring the Quaffle, one at a time. Try different techniques if you would; let's get Ron puzzled," stammered Harry, and they all felt like laughing but the cold weather didn't allow them to.
First was Neville. He grabbed the Quaffle and straight away flew downwards to the right goalpost. He raised his fist, and shot the Quaffle perfectly. However, Ron was too clever for him. He moved beforehand, and managed to push the Quaffle away, inches before it penetrated the circular opening.
"Nice try Neville," commented Ron, and threw the Quaffle back upwards. It landed in Parvati's hands, which were very wet. She held the Quaffle carefully, and was circling around Ron, who intended to snatch the Quaffle. Of course, that was her biggest opportunity to score a goal, and that's what she did.
"Never leave the goalposts, Ron!" shouted Harry.
"Sorry," he apologized, and got hold of the Quaffle. He then threw it upwards, as the wind helped. Next in the queue was Lavender.
She moved deftly on her broomstick in a zigzag, creating some sort of diversion. She was aiming for the right goalpost, where Ron was safely guarding it. For a moment, he was assured that the Quaffle was coming his way. Cunningly, though, Lavender shot the Quaffle at the upper middle post, and scored another goal.
"Ron, I told you before. Keep hovering in front of the middle post, you should know from the opponent's movements where he or she is heading," prattled Harry.
"How should I have known? She was moving in a zigzag!" and he chased after the falling Quaffle, throwing it afterwards to Harry.
Harry was next in line. At first, he ascended twenty more feet to the level where Ron couldn't see him, and had to squint in order to see a blur of him. Quickly as he was, he rushed with his Firebolt X6, his hand stretched straight forward, holding the Quaffle. He was going to crash into Ron, if had approached anymore, but luckily turned to a corner. With him turned Ron. His eyes were following Harry's broom. Immediately, Harry scored another goal.
Ron held his hand up to stop Harry lecturing him, and caught the Quaffle.
Last but not least was Hermione. She grabbed the Quaffle, and flew directly to the middle post. Ron realized that it must've been some kind of a trick. Nevertheless, he did as Harry told him so, and hovered in front of the middle post. Hermione was nearing him. And then, she did something remarkable. Hermione stood up on her Firebolt, as if she were riding a skateboard. Her left hand was hidden behind her back, and her right hand was stretched out to gain some balance. Ron was ready for her. Strangely, she pulled out her left hand, but there was no Quaffle. Ron had already prepared for it, and automatically flew forward to catch it. Then, when he turned around, he saw the Quaffle landing in Hermione's fist. The whole team was intrigued; Hermione had shot the Quaffle ten feet in the air, creating a diversion so Ron would think that she had the Quaffle behind her back. Instantly, she threw it right into the middle post.
"Fantastic move, Hermione," commented Harry, beaming at her.
"You tricky little…" began Ron, furious with her.
"Allright, Ron has been currently reminding me about something you might find interesting," spoke Harry, grinning at Ron, "get ready to learn the Wronski Feint, everyone," mouthed Harry. The whole team turned their heads to him, with the exception of Ron and Hermione.
"What?" asked Neville, amazed.
"Seriously?" inquired Lavender.
"No way!" shrieked Parvati.
"Cool," muttered Ginny.
"Ok, listen, the Wronski Feint is considered a dangerous seeker diversion," explained Harry confidently, "it needs the seeker to be free in moving his or her broom, and almost weightless."
They were looking at him, mystified by this introduction.
"Sometimes in matches, you see two seekers fighting struggling to catch the snitch," twitted Harry, "but the real thing is that one seeker didn't actually see the snitch; he just wanted the other seeker to copy him."
The teammates were nodding their head, vaguely understanding what he was talking about.
"Now, if you've attended the Quidditch World Cup two years ago, you would've witnessed the Bulgarian seeker, Victor Krum, doing it. And he was lucky to not crash into the ground," talked Harry briskly, his hair moving frequently as the wind blew over it.
"But how is it really performed?" asked Neville, excited about learning some advanced stuff.
"Well, what naturally happens is that one seeker is diving more than fifty feet, at the highest speed possible. Usually, the seeker feels weightless, and controls the balance on the broomstick. Just before hitting the ground, the seeker deftly manages to stop the broomstick and fly upwards," pointed out Harry. He could've sworn that Ron was itching to just do it.
"Harry, are you sure we're capable of doing the Wronski Feint?" asked Hermione, her face soaked with water.
"Well, it might be tough because you're not seekers, but at least you could give it a try," he continued, grinning at Ron.
Harry flew up several feet, and so did the rest of his teammates.
"I'll let the snitch out, and let's just hope it would fly to the ground," twined Harry, "if we're lucky, I could show you a demonstration."
Instantly, he took the snitch out of his pocket, and released it in the air. It sprung out its wings, and disappeared from their sights. It was almost impossible to locate the snitch in such terrible weather.
"Here it is, it's flying downwards," pointed out Hermione, as she caught a glimpse of gold hovering beneath her.
"Harry, have you ever tried the Wronski Feint?" asked Parvati, worried about the outcome.
Harry turned to her, his broomstick carrying him away.
"No, this'll be my first try," chuckled Harry, and soon, he fired away his Firebolt X6, and within heartbeats, they saw him soar in the air, following the snitch.
From afar, they discerned his moves, and eventually descended to have a closer watch. Harry was stretching out his hand, as the snitch moved further and further away from him.
"He's going to crash!" shouted Ron, his eyes wide squinting.
"No doubt!" commented Neville, who moved further downwards.
But they were all wrong. Harry luckily managed to turn aside his broom, half a second before he could've hit the floor. He knew that crashing after diving such a steep slope would've ruined his broomstick, fracturing it into bits. As soon as Harry turned to a corner, he was already heading back up again, and his finger tips were millimeters away from the golden snitch. Fortunately, he caught it and flew back.
"He did it! He did it!" cried Hermione, and without any warning, she hugged Ron tightly.
Harry flew the thick clouds, and resisted the frosty wind pushing against his face. He arrived happily, waving the snitch in his hand.
"That was incredible Harry," commented Lavender.
"Really amazing," added Ron.
"I was astounded that you succeeded from the scratch of it," babbled Hermione, and gave him a fervent hug.
"Thank you all," spoke Harry, beaming, as Hermione flew away from him. "Now, as you just saw, the Wronski Feint move needs a lot of work and effort put into it. It requires following the snitch, as if you were following a once-in-a-lifetime chance of winning a million galleons."
"That was really clever of you Harry," interrupted Ron, "I just couldn't believe how you got to avoid crashing an instant before stopping your broom."
"It's the magic within the Firebolt X6, Ron," tittered Neville, giggling.
"Well then, anyone cares to try it out?" asked Harry, watching the uncertain faces.
"Not in this weather, I couldn't," gossiped Ginny. Of course, Harry didn't force anyone to do it, and understood Ginny's excuse.
"Anyone at all?"
"I'll do it, but I'll have to have an opponent in order to carry out the process correctly," chattered Hermione, wiping off some raindrops.
"Grand!" commented Harry, humorously. He had the snitch in his palm, and agreed to be Hermione's opponent.
They took off, and their brooms were soaring in the wet air, chasing the quick snitch. Harry was just Hermione, and they were only a yard away from each other. The acceleration of there brooms was near, but the Firebolt X6 was inevitably faster than the old Firebolt.
Through the rain they ventured with their broomsticks, and into the foggy clouds they penetrated. The snitch was frequently changing its position, and Harry and Hermione were flying in a circle after it. It was really difficult to avoid bumping into the opponent's backside, and concentrating on the snitch's direction at the same time. Now, Hermione was just about to stretch out her hand, when the snitch, yet again, spun around and turned to the left. She was flying upwards again and Harry in the opposite direction, using it as a shortcut. Here the moment came…Hermione was descending faster than ever, so desperate to catch the snitch, but Harry was right behind her. He was diving dangerously, his acceleration increasing rapidly. Easily, he stopped the flow of his broomstick, and grabbed the snitch. Poor Hermione; she closed her eyes, and began to shout in fear. She thought of the inevitability of crashing into the wet grassy ground. Paradoxically, she found herself hovering safely above the ground, her feet dangling off her broomstick.
"You did it, Hermione," giggled Harry, stunned, "I caught the snitch, but you did it…you performed the Wronski Feint clearly and sharply!"
She a fleeting smile on her face, and didn't believe her sudden success. She never expected to do it correctly, not even using Harry's unforgettable Firebolt. Up they went, and their teammates were awaiting them.
"That was extraordinary, Hermione," complimented Ginny, clapping for her.
"Brilliant…but the snitch is in Harry's hand," muttered Ron.
"He caught the snitch…but he says I did it…I actually ventured by peforming the Wronski Feint," chuckled Hermione, breathing in deeply.
"Now, are you satisfied Ron?" inquired Harry, placing the snitch carefully in his pocket, assuring that it wouldn't fly off.
"Not entirely," disagreed Ron, "I wanted to have a go at it myself."
"I suppose next week, Ron," yelped Harry, "I think this is enough for today."
"He's right; I'm tired," mentioned Hermione, and she was holding on tightly to her broom, as if she was frozen, and adjoined it.
A few moments later, all the members found their way back to the changing rooms, and changed back into school uniform.
"I'm very proud of you Hermione," murmured Harry quietly, "you did your best, and succeeded in accomplishing the most intricate and difficult move a seeker has ever faced!"
"Thanks Harry," she responded, and hugged him. "If it hadn't been for you, I would've never done it."
"Why are you always saying that? I know you're independent, and practically can accomplish any goal you set," prattled Harry, rubbing her sore shoulder.
"I know, Harry," she smiled, "but you were always by my side to encourage me, and motivate me."
He turned speechless, and felt happiness in his heart instantly.
Fifteen minutes later, the Gryffindor returned back to their dormitories, after running into Hagrid, and chatting with him about some Nifflers he found loose around the greenhouses. Harry sat on the old armchair next to the fire, relaxing his rigid feet. Hermione was totally exhausted that she didn't even discuss anything, but instead, dropped herself directly to the couch. Ginny, Neville, Parvati, and Lavender couldn't bear staying up for any longer, and thought of taking a limited short nap. The oddball in that occasion was Ron. He was still disappointed that Harry didn't leave him to try the Wronski Feint. Ron kept babbling some rubbish about Harry being selfish and arrogant, and over confident. Harry, of course, ignored Ron's complaints. Yet, Harry was dreading the next three hours. After having dinner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were due to carry out their secret plan. They have planned on rescuing Fred and George, and they meant to do it. Without another word, Harry shut his eyes, disturbed by the fire's flames, and dozed off.