Chapter Six: Okay, don't you know already? It's about Ginny andRemus mainly. Although this one is Quidditch Tryouts.

A week later, Hermione lurched through the portrait hole, carrying her two bookbags slung over opposite shoulders.

"No free periods at all today—none!" she exclaimed. "I have homework in every single subject I'm taking, plus I promised you three I'd show at Quidditch tryouts today!"

"Hermione, it's no sweat," Ginny said. "Just don't go to the tryouts. We don't mind—we know you need to do homework first."

"And to think, if you'd stayed at our old school, you'd have Head Girl duties as well," Harry teased. "Aren't you glad you dumped that stuff on Lily?" Lily frowned at her son, who smiled innocently.

"Definitely," Hermione stressed.

"Gee, thanks, Hermione," Lily said sarcastically. "Nice to know you have it easy."

"Now, now, Evans," James began.

"You know, James, I have a first name. It's Lily. Did you miss the memo?" she said politely. "You seem to have forgotten what my name is."

"Fine, Lily then, we knew you were a flat-out Head Girl when we first met you," James said flatly. "The reluctance to break rules, the supernatural intelligence—it was all there." Lily smacked him. "Oww! Well, you know, it was nothing less than true, oh moon of magical wisdom and smartest woman to grace these halls."

"Prongs, cut the dramatics, she's not buying it," Sirius said unexpectedly. "What my language deficient friend is trying to say is, we think you're pretty darn smart—for a girl."

"Oh, thanks," Lily said grumpily. "If you want to see someone superficially intelligent, take a look at our dear overworked friend here."

"Harassed, more like," Hermione grumbled. "Stupid Professor Slughorn. I'll bet he knew Professor Vector gave us loads. And so did Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, that daft ghost Binns, Blackthorne, Professor Aseret—I swear we've got far to many runes to translate in her class, she's such a monster for homework. Kettleburn, Pomfrey—I could go on and on, but you won't appreciate it anymore than Harry, Ginny, and Ron did in—Siberia," she interrupted herself hastily.

"Quite right, Hermione dear." James checked his watch. "Bugger, time for tryouts. Better get down to the bloody pitch if we want to be there a little early."

"Language," Hermione said absently from the corner where she was furiously scribbling away on a roll of parchment, occasionally referring to her Transfiguration textbook and some books on Transfiguration from the library—her reports were always over-researched. Her quill was moving at record speed, even for Hermione.

"Yes, madam!" he said smartly. "Language, madam! English, madam."

"Oh, go away," she said sharply.

"Fine!" James turned on his heel and walked through the portrait hole.

The Quidditch pitch was bright and sunny that day. Many prospective players showed, both good, and bad—though there seemed to be quite a bit more of the latter and much less of the former, much to James and Sirius's mutual dismay.

First tryout was for Keeper—Ron was the only Keeper who managed to save all five goals attempted by James and Sirius. Informed that he was the new Keeper, Ron said a very quiet, "Thanks," and blushed bright red. James patted him on the back before Ron sat down hard in the bleachers to watch the rest of the tryouts.

Seeker was next. They released two Snitches. Harry caught the both of them in four minutes. James was watching his son with enormous eyes. When he informed the boy he was the new Seeker by a large margin, Harry looked astonished.

"Harry! Even our old Seeker couldn't do that!" Sirius exclaimed. "And McGonagall said he was the best in years!"

"Well," Harry stammered.

"Harry," Ginny whispered to him, "just tell your dad thanks and let us get on with the bloody tryouts, okay?"

"Thanks, James," Harry said. A blush rose in his cheeks.

"No problem—you were definitely the best tryout—hell, the best flyer!"

"No, you don't mean that—"

"Not yet," Remus said. "We haven't seen the Chaser tryouts, James," he reminded his best friend from where he sat scribbling on his own Transfiguration essay.

Ginny smiled at the teenager. When he smiled back, she felt something quail in her heart. She shoved that into the back of her mind, focusing on the first tryouts, trying to scout any talent that would defeat her.

"Ginny, you'd better beat that bloke," Remus said fervently when one tryout failed to make a single goal on Ron. "If you can't and your brother and Harry have been bragging on us for nothing at all, I swear I'll—"

"What, exactly?"

"Hurt myself before the Slytherin team flattens us in the final," he finished, looking over at the castle where most people assumed Slytherin dorms to be.

"Them?" Harry asked. He glanced around them and then said, "We beat them three straight years in our time. And this team has got to be at least a little better than that one."

"Good," James said finally. "Ginny? You're up."

"Beat the socks off them, Ginny," Remus told her. "Please. James and Sirius are no goo whatsoever, so you have to pick this team up off the ground."

"Sure," she said indifferently. "It's been done before." She trotted off, mounted her broom, and kicked up, sailing up into the air with a smile on her face.

"She's a confident one," Sirius commented, hovering by his friends for a moment.

"I like that," Remus said defensively.

"Sounds like Moony's getting some love vibes," Sirius teased.

"Like James hasn't been getting those vibes for years off Lily," Remus scoffed. "And what's he done about it? Nothing."

"Hey!" James exclaimed. "I am right here."

"Shut up—here goes Ginny."

Ginny effortlessly caught the Quaffle Sirius threw her. Looping around the Beaters, Frank and Mike, she feinted left before coming up from the bottom. Ron almost caught it, but it slipped right past him a moment before his eyes got wide and he watched the lightning-fast shot rush past him. It fell into the goal, Ginny smiling victoriously. Ron punched the air and circled around the goalposts to keep himself from yelling at his sister.

She scored the other two goals on her brother with what appeared like ease, but anyone who knew her could tell she was concentrating ferociously on the game before her.

"Ginny Weasley is the new Chaser," James announced in his magically amplified voice. Ginny smiled and accepted congratulations from all her friends, new and old.

James pointed to his throat and muttered, "Quietus." He smiled at Ginny. "You know, if I hadn't known better, I'd say you'd been playing since the cradle."

"What makes you think she hasn't?" Harry chuckled. "Hermione said she's been sneaking into the broom-shed and borrowing all her brothers' brooms alternately since she was—I don't know, was it—?"

"I was four," Ginny said sharply. "I told Hermione six, but in all reality, I taught myself when I was four."

"Brooms since four." James whistled. "No wonder you're such a flyer. You, Harry?" he asked, after checking around for any eavesdroppers—after all, it would look strange for twins to ask each other when they started flying—even if they had been separated at birth. They would probably have told each other about all those sorts of things. Or they wouldn't. Oh, fine, he just didn't want anyone to hear him.

"First year. I had to rescue Neville's Remembrall from Malfoy after Neville broke his wrist." Harry smiled. "They put me on the House team—first year—for breaking the rules."

"Just like your dear old dad, eh?" James said proudly. "Getting extra for breaking rules. Well, let's go tell Lily the glad news. I know she specifically wanted to know how her Harry did in tryouts—her words, not mine, she's taking this whole mother thing seriously."

"You know, Harry, Hermione did insist that you got the position unfairly—but she did say you deserved it later, when we had become friends and all," Ron said speculatively, tapping his chin.

"After we saved her from that stupid troll," Harry amended. "You think the Marauders get in trouble, you're nothing compared to us—except we always seem to do the right thing when we break the rules. First, saving the Sorcerer's Stone—that got us, what, one hundred seventy points if you add in Neville's—then, rescuing Ginny from the basilisk, killing said basilisk—"

"Not forgetting that we erased Lockhart's memory," Ron said darkly. "Remember? 'Sword? Haven't got a sword. That boy does, though, he'll lend you one,'" he said in a demented voice. Harry grinned wryly. Ron shook his head, laughing dryly. "And I had to take him to a hospital wing, too. You should have heard him, muttering about things like jam tarts when we walked up the stairs. Not that it was much of a change from his normal self." Ginny snorted.

"Well, that too, and it got us four hundred points, right? Third year wasn't too great. We had a close shave with a werewolf—don't worry, you weren't that bad, Moony, a couple hundred dementors, and an idiot murdering rat," he muttered, thankful that Peter was doing his homework inside. "Fourth year, I did three dangerous tasks, got my arm sliced open by said idiot murderer, saw a friend die, and witnessed a lunatic Dark Lord rise from supposed death, but got one thousand Galleons for my trouble," Harry said, falsely cheerful. "I gave it to two pranksters to start a joke shop."

"True father's son all right," Remus muttered.

"Well, what would you have me do, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked angrily. "It would have been Cedric's if I hadn't convinced him to grab the Cup with me, or trusted that Crouch idiot at all. It had Cedric's name all over it—only his family wouldn't claim it after he died."

"Professor Lupin?" James laughed.

"Well, his voice doesn't change much in about seventeen years," Harry muttered. "And since his Lordship had made a recovery, I figured that we could use some laughs. It helped, though, because next year we had Umbridge, the fat toad."

"Umbridge? As in, recently graduated Slytherin Dolores Umbridge?" Remus asked incredulously. "She's about as intelligent as Crabbe and Goyle."

"Don't we know it," Ginny muttered. "Fifth year, Harry?" she asked tentatively. "If you want to, that is…if you don't, it's okay," she trailed off lamely.

"Fifth year, right," Harry said determinedly. "So, Umbridge, stupid ban from Quidditch—"

"Banned? Why?"

"She gave me a lifelong ban for giving Malfoy what he had coming—he insulted Mrs. Weasley, Mum—er, Lily, that is, and the whole Weasley family," he said tightly.

"And they decided to duel it out in a Muggle fashion," Ginny muttered. "It was better than magical dueling, I swear!"

"He insulted Lily?" James said incredulously. "After she was dead—had been dead for fourteen years?"

"He was Malfoy, what do you think," Harry said wearily. "So, me and George attacked him. She didn't care that we'd been provoked or anything—she always favored Malfoy and the Slytherins—I must have had a dozen detentions with her because I said Voldemort was back."

"What's so bad about a dozen detentions?" Sirius asked. "Prongsie and I have got about two hundred from McGonagall alone."

"This," Harry said savagely, and thrust his right hand under their noses. "I—must—not—tell —lies," he said slowly. "I don't know how many times I wrote it."

"What was she using?" Remus asked with huge eyes.

"Blood quill," Ginny said shortly.

"And you would know why?" Remus shot back. Ginny's eyes widened.

"I—Ah, well," she stuttered.

"Ginny," Ron said warningly. "What did that old coot do to you?"

"Well, she—er—I had a few weeks' worth of detention with her," she said evasively. "Nothing personal." Harry grabbed her hand and pushed up her long sleeve.

"Ginny!" he exclaimed. "That's more than a few weeks! And I would know. I had a few weeks."

"Well, I couldn't keep my mouth shut in Defense, kept saying things Madam Toad didn't appreciate—then I questioned her term plan, and she flipped out."

"I don't suppose your comments would've had anything to do with denouncing Cornelius Fudge, would it?" Harry said sarcastically.

"Well, I said he was a barmy old fool—well, you know he was—is—whatever you want to use—and deserved to be committed to a mental institute—or prison or something. Since she was practically in love with him, I decided that maybe that was what got me in trouble," she said lightly, pulling her sleeve down to hide her hand once more.

"Nothing to do with, 'I must respect adults in authority', right?" Harry asked exasperatedly, pointing toward her hand.

"You know, Ginny, you knew what pushed her buttons," Ron said seriously.

"Yes! And that was why I badmouthed her precious Minister. It wasn't like Fred and George were the only ones retaliating, Harry, Ron."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You were ignoring me, all three of you! I was the 'kid sister' again. You didn't want to associate with me," she said angrily. "I just had to fend for myself while we were back at our Hogwarts, hadn't you noticed? That's why I was hanging out with people like Luna Lovegood— don't get me wrong, she's a great girl, if a little loony at times—and Neville, and that Creevey idiot that was always sucking up to Harry."

"Oh, him, right," Ron said exasperatedly. "Harry, can I take your picture? If I develop it right, will it move, Harry? Can I get your autograph, Harry? Can I kiss you, Harry?" he said in a falsetto voice.

"Ron, you insufferable prat!" she howled. "If it wasn't for you ignoring me, I wouldn't have been possessed! I would have had someone to confide in. I wouldn't have this whole problem right now!" she yelled, and ran toward a small door in the wall. She opened it and rushed in. When Ron tried to follow her, she shut the door with a slam. Ron stumbled back with a shocked look on his face.

"Ron, I don't think she wants to talk to you right now," Remus said softly. "I'll see if I can get her out of there."

"Thanks, Prof.…I mean, Remus," he corrected himself. Remus nodded to him and walked toward the door that Ginny was behind.

"Poor Ginny," Harry whispered. "And it's all my fault, just like Sirius, isn't it?"

"Would you stop that? He was not your fault!"

"Well, you know, as great as it is to hear myself discussed with such importance and awe, I would appreciate it if you were to tell me exactly where and how I died," Sirius ordered, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and propelling him toward Gryffindor Tower. James took Ron beside him. The redhead squawked and said, "I can walk for myself, thanks, James!" Harry shook his head in exasperation. " Let's all head for the dorm room. Mike and Frank won't be there, will they?"

"Not likely."

"Good."

"Do you really want to do this, Harry?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"No."

Harry James Potter, fictional conundrum. In any case, a side to Ginny we never knew existed! Cool, huh? And we just knew something had to be up with the whole Umbridge thingymajigger. In any case, next chapter up in 5. LysPotter