Hey guys! You probably want to throw tomatoes at me. I wouldn't blame you if you did. In fact, I'll supply them. I know I took a ridiculously long time to update this. I have no excuses, besides the fact that I was writing three stories at once and I kind of got distracted by reading other fan fictions. It doesn't justify my actions. It will never happen again. Ever. And if it does, then I myself will throw tomatoes at me. Promise.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine (as much as I wish they were). The new members of the Quidditch team are taken from book 6—I own none of them. Oh, how I wish I was JKR.
A/N: The Quidditch tryouts were summarized from book 6. I did not create that part of the plot.
Chapter 9
It Only Gets Better
Over the course of the week Harry had been improving greatly. He drank every bit of the potions Madame Pomfrey gave him and worked on his homework diligently. His next lesson with Snape was that evening, and following would be his "talk" with Dumbledore and McGonagall. They showed signs of wanting to talk about something, but something or someone kept interfering every time they tried. Tonight, however, Harry could avoid them no longer; he had a hunch as to what they wanted to talk about, but he wasn't completely sure. The next day was supposed to be the day of his release from the hospital wing and also the day of Quidditch tryouts.
At precisely seven o'clock, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape walked into the hospital wing. Dumbledore and McGonagall beamed at Harry, while Snape gave him a cold, loathing stare and began the lesson.
"Potter, this will be our last private lesson. You will continue to study with the rest of your classmates in N.E.W.T level, so you will be expected to live up to the expectations I have from everyone else," Snape said coldly. "Undoubtedly, you may as well drop out of my class now, but I guess time does its job."
McGonagall gave Snape an angry glare, but he ignored it. Dumbledore looked deep in thought.
"Today you will be brewing the Polyjuice Potion. The ingredients are on this piece of parchment. I have a hair of my own in this bottle, so it shouldn't be hard to tell if you have failed. You may begin," he said with an evil smile. The Polyjuice Potion was a very complicated one to brew.
Harry looked down at the piece of parchment and stared at it in shock. The ingredients had to be added in the exact order, with a very precise amount, and then stirred an exact number of times clockwise, then counterclockwise, etc. It could not have been more complicated.
Harry nervously gathered himself and began to work. He suddenly appreciated just how talented Hermione is, having brewed this potion while in her second year.
After about a half an hour of work, Snape said, "Your potion should turn a shade of brown now," and looked at the contents of his cauldron. To both his and Harry's surprise, his potion did just that. Harry looked at it in amazement, then looked up at Dumbledore and McGonagall and smiled in relief.
His success so far has encouraged him, and he continued working with hope that he might actually brew a potion correctly for once. After another half an hour of hard work and concentration that did not come easily, the potion finally looked as it did when he drank it in his second year. Harry added the piece of hair from Snape, stirred it three times clockwise and then one time counterclockwise, and gathered some in a bottle. He looked up at Snape, and when Snape nodded his approval, Harry drank up.
It tasted just as nasty as it did before; it tasted like medicine. After a few seconds, the potion started working, and Harry could feel his body changing. A few minutes later, he looked in the mirror to see another Snape staring back at him, and a furious looking Snape standing behind him. Harry-Snape beamed at Dumbledore and McGonagall, who beamed back at him. McGonagall had to force her smile though—it was quite unusual to see Snape smiling at you.
The real Snape gave Harry-Snape another drink, which immediately turned him back to Harry.
"Very well, Potter. It seems that spending time in the hospital wing was all you needed to do a decent job at Potions. You will receive your marks on this potion tomorrow," Snape said and turned to leave.
"Receive his marks? What's there to receive? He obviously achieved an O just now, he brewed the potion correctly!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall.
"Minerva, do not interfere with my grading. Harry will receive the grade I would give to my other students had they performed as he did. You will receive your marks tomorrow," he turned to Harry, and with that, left the infirmary.
Harry knew Snape would find something wrong with his potion, but he did not care. He focused on his grandparents now.
"Well done, Harry! I see you have your mother's talents when you try," Dumbledore winked at him.
Then, his face turned serious, and he said, "Harry…we want to know what happened while you were at the Dursleys. We want to know everything, if you are willing to tell us," Dumbledore said. It was a request.
Harry looked away, but nodded. "Could you…see what happened, rather than me telling you?" Harry asked hopefully. He wasn't ready to talk about it openly, but he never thought he would ask someone to enter his mind.
McGonagall and Dumbledore both nodded approvingly, understanding the delicacy of the situation.
They both muttered, "Legilimency!" and prodded Harry's mind.
Harry was seven and Uncle Vernon was yelling at him for burning the bacon.
"You insolent little brat! You just burned my breakfast, boy!" Vernon Dursley barked at the dark-haired seven-year-old.
"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon, it won't happen—" Harry began, but was hit with a blow to the head before he could finish.
The older Harry could see McGonagall closing her eyes shut and Dumbledore staring sadly at the scene in front of him.
"You are an ungrateful git, you know that? You're Aunt and I took you in generously, and this is how you repay us? You are a FREAK! Clean this up and GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!" screamed Vernon Dursley crazily. Anyone watching the scene would have called social security by now.
But before Harry could clean up the mess, Vernon Dursley punched Harry in the stomach. Harry fell to the floor and Dudley joined in on the beating as well. Harry was now bleeding so badly that no part of his body was visible in its original color; he was covered in blood.
Harry was crying, begging for them to stop, while Vernon Dursley continued mercilessly, Dudley now watching in satisfaction. Petunia Dursley was standing a few feet away from them, watching with an expression that was hard to read.
After what seemed like eternity, Petunia said, "Vernon, if you go any longer we will have to take him to the hospital and we will be asked awkward questions. I think he learned his lesson."
Vernon Dursley stopped in mid-air, stared at the bleeding Harry on the floor, and then seemed to make up his mind to stop. He kicked Harry once more, and then left the kitchen without another word. Dudley was merely smirking, looking very much entertained.
Dumbledore and McGonagall were aghast, horrified from what they just witnessed. Tears swept down Harry's cheeks while he silently remembered what he had been trying to forget all these years.
Another memory came into play, but this time Harry was much older and the beating came with no excuse whatsoever.
The house appeared to be completely Dursley-free. Harry was sitting in his room doing his homework, when suddenly the door to his room creaked open and a drunken Vernon Dursley walked in. Harry hid his books under the covers hastily.
"There you are…not hiding, are we?" said Vernon nastily. "I think I ought to teach you a lesson, boy! One you won't forget!" And without warning, Harry felt a sharp blow to the head. Vernon grabbed Harry by the neck of his shirt and threw him down the stairs. Harry landed flat on his back with one big slam that knocked the breath out of him. He got up quickly and backed away.
"What's the matter? Not afraid, are you? Surely they teach you some magic tricks to defend yourself in that freak school of yours, don't they? Oh, why, yes. I forgot. You're not allowed to use magic. How sad," Vernon Dursley wore a smug smile on his face.
Dumbledore and McGonagall recoiled, clearly disgusted with what they were seeing and decided that they saw enough.
Harry looked away from them, for he felt that if he didn't he would start crying. Dumbledore and McGonagall both had tears in their eyes, and neither of them spoke for a long time. Finally, Dumbledore said, "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me they treated you so horribly?"
"I didn't want you to—" Harry began, but McGonagall finished the sentence for him.
"Worry. Yes, I thought that would be the reason. But you need to understand that worrying isn't a bad thing. It shows that the person is concerned for your well-being. It shows that someone cares for you."
Harry nodded, embarrassed. "Well, now you know…when they came here, to the school, my uncle didn't just hit me because he was under the Imperious curse…that was all him."
McGonagall said nothing more, but embraced Harry in a hug. Dumbledore hugged him as well, and the two left the hospital wing so that Harry could get some rest. Though they were glad Harry had shared this with them, they were still quite disturbed and they both agreed that they would make the Dursleys pay if it's the last thing they do.
The next morning Harry woke up actually feeling better, both physically and emotionally. He jumped out of bed and made to leave the hospital wing, when Madame Pomfrey came almost running out of her office and stopped him.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said angrily.
"Erm…I thought I was leaving to go to classes today, but I'm guessing I can't do that yet?" he retorted.
"No, not yet. I need to do a final check up to make sure you are ready to start a normal schedule. You need rest," she replied, and began checking Harry from head to toe.
After ten minutes, she gave in and said, "Very well. You may go to breakfast now, but make sure you don't overwhelm yourself. And get some REST!" she yelled after him as he hurried out of the hospital wing.
Harry hoped the Great Hall wouldn't be full of students yet as he didn't wish to attract any attention to his return. He thanked Merlin when he managed to slip in to the Great Hall without anyone noticing, and took a seat between Ron and Hermione.
"HARRY! You're back! How are you feeling?" Hermione jumped at him with a big hug.
"Never been better," Harry grinned back at her.
"Mate, I was getting worried that you wouldn't be back this school year…couldn't take any longer, eh?" he joked.
"I'm sorry, I'll try to make my bones heal faster next time," he replied teasingly as he dumped bacon and scrambled eggs onto his plate.
When he was almost done with his breakfast, McGonagall came to his table.
"Potter, I have your schedule. Try not to be late to your classes, will you?" she said with a stern face, but turned around immediately as she could not hide her smile.
Ron and Hermione gaped at her; they could not understand why she was acting so weird around Harry.
"What's up with her? She took the mickey lately. Any idea what's going on with her?" Ron asked, still looking at her suspiciously.
Hermione shook her head, deep in thought, and Harry tried his best to look as if he had no clue what Ron was talking about.
Harry looked down at his schedule, Ron peaking over his shoulder.
"We've got all of our classes together!" Ron said excitedly.
"That's great…double Transfiguration, Charms, lunch, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts. Finally, a Monday that doesn't make you want to crawl under a rock and die," Harry said playfully. "And we have free periods all throughout the day. Come on, we don't want to be late for McGonagall. We better not get a lot of homework tonight, Quidditch tryouts are going to take a long time."
They got up and made their way to class. Ron finally asked, "Who do you reckon will make the team?"
"I really don't know…a lot of our good players have left, but who knows…maybe people will surprise me at tryouts," he said awkwardly.
"I've been training really hard, you know. I really hope to make the team," Ron said somewhat sadly.
"I'm sure you'll do fine. You just get nervous, but I know you have it in you," Harry said reassuringly.
They walked into the Transfiguration classroom just in time and took their seats.
McGonagall could not help but smile at them when they looked at her. Ron and Hermione exchanged questioning looks, while Harry just looked down at the table, barely hiding his grin.
A few minutes later, class had begun.
"Good morning. Today we will be working on the most complex form of Transfiguration. Throughout the year, you will work on becoming Animagi. I assume you all know what an Animagus is?" McGonagall asked the class, and they all nodded.
Hearing the word 'Animagus' brought painful memories of Sirius to Harry…he looked down at his fumbling fingers and tried to clear his mind of all thoughts…of all memories…
McGonagall noticed Harry's wincing when she spoke, but said nothing.
"If you will kindly open your books to page 97 and begin reading about Animagi. Ready the first two chapters about them, and wait for further instructions when you are done," she instructed the class.
They all opened their books, and began reading.
About a half an hour later, they finished reading both chapters and looked up expectantly at Professor McGonagall.
"Well, since you've read the chapters, you must know how to discover what your Animagus form is, then?" she asked the class.
For once, almost all hands were raised, and not just Hermione's.
McGonagall looked mildly surprised. "Yes, Mr. Thomas?"
"There is a simple way to find out. Your Patronus form is your Animagus form, so all you have to do is produce a Patronus."
"Well done, 10 points for Gryffindor. Now, you haven't read this material yet, but does anyone know how to conjure a Patronus?"
Again, to her surprise, many hands were up. Her eyebrows were raised as she called on Neville.
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom? Please tell us about the incantation and what you must do in order to produce a corporeal Patronus?"
"The incantation is Expecto Patronum, and all you have to do is think of the happiest memory you have," said Neville smartly.
"Oh, well done!" McGonagall smiled at him. "Twenty points for Gryffindor!" Neville blushed, but looked proud. He had never earned so much as a point for Gryffindor from McGonagall in class.
Suddenly, realization dawned upon McGonagall's face. "You didn't learn this in your Defense group last year, did you?" she asked suspiciously.
All eyes turned to Harry. After a few moments of silence, Harry decided it would be best if he spoke up.
"Well…Er…Yes, they did," he said, half smiling, half dreading her reaction.
McGonagall seemed like she didn't know how to react.
"How many of you know how to produce a Patronus?" she asked the class.
Eight people raised their hands; amongst them were Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, Hermione, Harry, and Ron.
McGonagall was taken aback from the number of people who raised their hands, but looked quite satisfied. She seemed speechless, until she finally said, "I think Gryffindor deserves another 50 points, don't you?" They all smirked.
"Very well. Those of you who know how to produce a Patronus, why don't you demonstrate for the rest of the class? Remember, think of the happiest memory you own, and then say Expecto Patronum, loudly and clearly. You may proceed."
They lined up, and each at their turn, produced a corporeal Patronus. Harry went first. He thought of him being able to spend the summer with his grandparents, and said Expecto Patronum. A silver stag came out of his wand.
Next in line was Hermione, and she produced her Patronus; a nice looking Otter came out of her wand.
And so it went on that they each produced their Patronuses, resulting in a very astonished Professor McGonagall.
"In all of my years of teaching, I have never seen a group of students so well prepared for class. Producing a Patronus is a task that even some aged wizards fail to learn, and I have never been prouder of my Gryffindor students. Fifty points to Gryffindor!" McGonagall praised them. They all left class quite satisfied with themselves.
The first day had past by fairly quickly, and soon they were facing Quidditch tryouts, which were a very interesting ordeal.
Surprisingly, trials didn't take that long. Harry immediately found himself three Chasers: Katie Bell returned to the team once more after an excellent performance; Demelza Robins, who has a particularly useful talent of dodging Bludgers; and Ginny Weasley, who had outflown everyone and scored seventeen goals effortlessly.
About 15 minutes later, Harry chose his two beaters: Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote. Neither acquired the talents of Fred and George, but they were a reasonable match.
Cormac McLaggen, a very arrogant and haughty Gryffindor, saved four penalties out of five. Harry couldn't help but feel hatred towards him, seeing as he was very annoying and diminished Ron's chances at flying well; Ron always became nervous at moments like these.
Ron looked as if he would feint at first, but Harry was worried without reason; Ron saved all five penalties.
As the weeks went by, the trio became busier and busier. Quidditch practice was taking up most of Harry and Ron's time, and Hermione was busy with her studies. Harry and Ron were particularly overwhelmed, however, seeing as they had almost no free time and did not even get to rest during their free periods. As it turns out they needed every single one of them in order to keep up with their studies.
Harry was even more disappointed by the fact that he could not spend time with his grandparents. Next weekend, however, was their first Hogsmeade weekend and McGonagall asked him to stay after class one day.
"Potter, if you would please stay behind. I have matters to discuss with you," she said without looking up from her papers.
Ron and Hermione exchanged confused looks with Harry, but Harry muttered, "I'll catch you later," before approaching his professor. When they were finally alone, McGonagall looked up with a grin.
"How are you doing, Harry?" she asked him cheerfully.
"I'm great…training really hard for the Quidditch match this Friday…I just hope I had more time to spend with you guys," he said, not sure if informality was proper in these kinds of situations. McGonagall certainly didn't seem to mind; if anything, she appreciated it.
"Professor Dumbledore and I would like you to spend some of Hogsmeade weekend with us," she blurted.
Harry looked up at her expectantly, awaiting a joke to come. When he realized she was serious, he beamed at her. "I'd like that! Except…what would I tell Ron and Hermione?" he asked disappointedly.
"You could tell them you need to stay inside for a meeting with the headmaster and that you would have to meet them later," she winked at him.
Harry smiled at her, nodded appreciatively, and left her classroom feeling very content.
The week passed by quickly, and soon they were facing their first Quidditch match. Ron looked beyond terrified, but cheered up a bit as Harry assured him everything would be fine.
Harry was feeling quite nervous himself, but not for the same reasons. He wanted to make his grandparents proud, and he most definitely wanted to beat Malfoy. For some reason, though, he had a bad feeling about the match which he couldn't explain.
Ron hardly ate any breakfast that day, and neither did Harry. He couldn't understand why he was so nervous about the match; after all, he never lost a match to Slytherin. Ron had been doing surprisingly well during practices. Harry found that he was extremely talented if he wasn't aggravated by Slytherins. He could only hope that Ron would be able to keep his head in the game and not pay attention to insults during the match. Then everything would be fine.
They walked out onto the pitch only to be deafened by cheering and clapping. Harry stepped up to Madam Hooch and shook hands with the Slytherin Captain. The whistle sounded, and the game began.
He searched the pitch for the Snitch, keeping an eye on Malfoy all the same. Amidst all the cheering, he could hear Luna Lovegood's commentary.
"Well, today should be quite the interesting match. Potter's new team is definitely bound to be successful. Ginny Weasley has the Quaffle; I'm rather fond of that girl. She zooms past that Slytherin bloke, what's his name? I think it's Harper. Yes, that's him. Well anyways, Ginny just flew right past him, she aims, she shoots…she SCORES! Ten-nil to Gryffindor!"
Harry looked around and spotted Malfoy staring at him. Malfoy looked away when he realized Harry had noticed.
"Urquhart with the Quaffle, and he's heading towards Ronald Weasley. He aim's for the right hoop—no, his right, our left—but Ron Weasley is too quick for him! He saves it!"
The Gryffindor crowd roared triumphantly at this. The Slytherin crowd booed.
Harry, who was now flying near Ron, beamed at him. Ron returned the cheerful grin and returned to goal keeping. Harry, meanwhile, decided to fly a bit higher to search for the snitch. He would have usually sighted it by now, if only once.
He flew higher and higher, until the crowds below were barely the size of ants. He heard someone coughing behind him. He whirled around and saw the last person he wanted to see while flying above the clouds. Malfoy.
"So, Potter, ready to lose?"
"You wish, Malfoy," Harry retorted.
"Aww, you're not scared, are you? Dumbledore isn't here to protect you right now," Malfoy had a nasty smile playing on his face.
"Who would I need protection from, you?" Harry snorted. "Yeah, I sure am scared."
Malfoy looked offended for a second, but then said, "Potter, you know we're out of bounds…the wards are no longer protecting us here."
"Yeah, so? Get to the point Malfoy, because you're wasting my time."
"So," said a cold voice from behind him, "no one will hear your screams."
Harry turned around and saw to his horror that there were no less than 10 Death Eaters on brooms behind him. If the situation wasn't so serious, he could have laughed.
Harry quickly made to dive back to the pitch, but at that moment he was ambushed and grabbed by a many strong arms. A couple seconds later, Harry felt everything around him go black. He was being pressed very hard from all directions, he could not breathe, it felt like his body was about to explode…and then, they were gone.
Malfoy smiled maliciously to himself, and dove back down to the pitch.
Dumbledore and McGonagall, who were watching the match expectantly, sat peacefully in their seats until a red strand of sparks began shooting out of Dumbledore's wand. Dumbledore had a blank expression on his face, but then he turned pale, his eyes cold with fury.
McGonagall, who sensed something was wrong, asked, "Albus, what's wrong?"
Dumbledore looked deep into her eyes, and said, "Harry was taken out of Hogwarts grounds."
Yay! This chapter definitely took a long time to write…I had a bit of writer's block for a while there, plus I was writing my two other stories, and reading a bunch of other fan fictions…again, I'm really sorry for how long it took to post this. But then again, you got a nice long chapter…so that kind of makes it even? Well, if you still want to throw tomatoes at me, I understand.
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