Harry was eating breakfast in the kitchen when Ron arrived. 'Are you ready for the Harpies?' asked Ron, emerging from the fireplace.

'You mean am I ready to be plunged among the Harpyheads and for Allie Hobbs to grind me to a powder, while Ginny blows kisses to Blaise Zabini?'

'Blaise Zabini! Is that her mysterious boyfriend?'

'Yeah, he was with her in Rome.'

'Blimey! No wonder she wouldn't say who it was!' said Ron. 'How are you doing?'

'Not bad. Yesterday I managed to channel my rage and heartbreak into feints, so at least I'm not bottling up my emotions.'

'Don't take this the wrong way, but you stopped bottling your emotions years ago.'

'I suppose that's true. Do you want breakfast?'

'Sounds good, thanks.'

'Kreacher,' called Harry.

Crack! 'Yes, Master!' Kreacher appeared, and Ron immediately started coughing uncontrollably.

'Ron would like some breakfast, if you don't mind.'

'Of course, Master,' replied Kreacher, and he took Ron's order.

After he scurried to the cooker, Ron whispered, 'Why does he have a long red ponytail?'

'Aversion therapy. I want to be prepared for seeing Ginny flying around the stadium.'

'I get it, but is it really an improvement to associate red ponytails with Kreacher? That might be a bit unnerving. Also, Hermione will kill you if she hears about this.'

'I'm not going to tell her,' said Harry firmly. 'Problem solved.'

'You sound like Janet.'

'You're right, I do. Speaking of Janet, how are things going? Did you get revenge for the makeup prank?'

'I did, but it was of a private nature.' Harry feigned confusion, and Ron said, 'Privacy is what the rest of us have.'

'Really? How would that even work?' joked Harry.

Ron read the Prophet while Harry replied to fan mail. 'I can't believe you stayed off the front page for an entire week. Janet said the team wager is on hold because nobody predicted you'd go this long.'

'True, but I'll be back on the cover tomorrow, when the Light magic article comes out.'

'Have you read it?'

'Yeah, Rita sent me a copy yesterday. I'd show it to you, but you'll mock me mercilessly.'

'Then I have to see it,' insisted Ron. 'Come on, it'll be good preparation for Hobbs.'

'Ugh, you're right—I'll go fetch it,' said Harry, heading towards the sitting room.

Ron laughed out loud when he saw the headline. 'Harry Potter's Got It, and You Can Get It,' he quoted. 'Are you kidding me?'

'That's what she came up with. And yes, a small part of me is screaming inside, but I want to promote the Light Arts and she says this is the best way.'

'I reckon she's right. But you'll need to find a secretary a little less uptight than Mrs Thwip to schedule your encounters. Do you reckon Lockhart can recommend someone?'

'I doubt it, if he's still in St Mungo's.'

'Haven't you heard? He's out, and at least comparatively back to normal.'

Harry looked at Ron in outrage. 'He's out?! Why isn't he in Azkaban? He tried to Obliviate us!'

'He's currently under house arrest, but his barrister is arguing that his six years in St Mungo's should count as time served. And his Healers say he's shown remorse, so it looks like he'll be out soon.'

'Don't we get a say in the matter?!' sputtered Harry.

'Apparently not. The maximum sentence for illegal memory charms is five years, and he's already done that.'

'So that's it, then. He's getting away with it!' scowled Harry. 'Does he still keep his book earnings?'

'No, those went into a fund for his victims. And by the way, this is all DMLE confidential, so don't tell anyone I told you.'

'Great, so now we have an exonerated Gilderoy Lockhart running around, desperate to earn some Galleons. What do you bet he claims he killed the Basilisk?' grumbled Harry. 'Or maybe he'll go back to teaching Defence—I should owl Minerva and put in a good word. Strictly speaking, he was one of our better Defence professors, since he didn't literally try to kill me.'

Ron smirked and said, 'Are you sure you're not just upset you'll finally have competition?'

'Competition?! For what?'

'Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, of course. I thought you were a shoo-in, but now all bets are off.'

'There's no way they'd choose him over me!' blurted Harry, before turning bright red. 'Oh, bugger. I really said that, didn't I?'

Ron was in hysterics, and when he calmed down he said, 'I have never been more tempted to blackmail you. But I have an alternative proposal.'

'What?' asked Harry suspiciously.

'Let me in on the condom scheme. George told me about it.'

'But you work for the Ministry!'

'So does Percy,' argued Ron.

'Not in law enforcement.'

'Aurors don't deal with bribery or illegal charms, unless there's Dark magic involved, which there won't be. But come on, this is my big chance!'

'Did you talk to Percy?'

'He says it's up to you and George, and George says it's up to you.'

'Obviously I don't mind. I just don't want you to lose your job.'

'I won't—not with Percy involved.'

'I hope you're right,' said Harry, and Ron began reading the article.

'Your taut, Seeker's body?' he quoted sceptically. 'Don't tell me you let Rita have a look.'

'God no! Give me a little credit!'

'I'm sorry, that was unfair of me. She didn't require a look, since your robes leave nothing to the imagination.'

'Oi! You're as bad as Malfoy today!'

'Oh right, you saw him last Sunday. How did that go?'

Harry told Ron he'd agreed to advocate for Draco, and he even managed to convince him it was a good idea. 'We have plans to go flying together on Wednesday, believe it or not.'

'I've learnt to suspend my disbelief around you,' replied Ron. 'Will you invite him to your next party? I thought you warded the house against marked Death Eaters.'

'Er, that no longer describes him,' said Harry, and he told Ron what had happened with the wand.

Ron was astonished. 'You'd better hope Malfoy doesn't resent you for everything you're doing for him. Because he's perfectly capable of it.'

'I know, and I'm treading lightly. But I think he realises we're in the same boat, as far as war trauma is concerned.' Harry was reluctant to tell Ron about the curtain incident, so he left it at that.

'Maybe,' said Ron dubiously. 'But be careful.'

After finishing the article, Ron asked, 'Why didn't any Light wizards come help us during the war? Couldn't they have just turned up at the Battle of Hogwarts and snapped everyone's wand?'

'Yeah, that's crossed my mind as well, and I don't know. I'll ask Davina on Monday.' He was silent for a moment and added, 'But I have a sense of why it didn't happen that way. There are Dark wizards all over the world, and Light wizards can't spend all their time fighting them. Furthermore, a Light wizard mightn't just snap their wand—they might inadvertently kill the Dark wizard, and I can understand why they wouldn't want that.'

'But is it really worse to kill a Dark wizard than to allow dozens of regular wizards—or Muggles—to die?'

'No, probably not. But I don't think it works that way,' said Harry, and his hands were beginning to glow. 'Things fit together, and that includes who dies in battle.'

Ron was shaking his head. 'I don't buy it. Don't you wish a Light wizard had turned up at the Department of Mysteries and kept Sirius alive?'

'Of course I do, but that's not how it happened.'

'But it should have!' persisted Ron. 'Light wizards have a responsibility to save innocent lives.'

'And regular wizards don't?' asked Harry. 'I assume you read the Muggle newspaper every morning and look for problems you could fix with magic, right?'

Ron frowned. 'I can't, because of secrecy.'

'Really? There's no way you could Disillusion yourself and use charms to extinguish a burning building? Or go into a hospital and slip healing potions into a few people's porridge?' Ron was silent, and Harry said, 'I'm not trying to berate you—my point is that we all have our own paths. But who knows, maybe you'll learn Light magic and lead an elite Auror squad.'

'Do you reckon I could?' asked Ron. 'I know the article said so, but this is still you we're talking about.'

'I'm sure you could, although apparently it's not easy to get started. I just got lucky.'

'You paid your dues, mate.'

'So did you,' said Harry sincerely.

Kreacher kept walking past the table and swishing his ponytail provocatively. 'Harry, this is giving me the creeps,' whispered Ron. 'Can you make him stop?'

'Yeah, you're right,' said Harry quietly. 'Kreacher! Thank you for trying, but you can take off the ponytail.'

'Yes, Master,' chirruped Kreacher, who promptly removed it and handed it to Harry.

'Er, thanks,' said Harry uncomfortably. 'Ron, do you want it?'

'No, I'm good. Do you have any other strategies for today's match?'

'Light magic. I'm going to try restricting it to my hands, since my gloves mostly hide it. But during the final chase, if there is one, I'll let it rip.'

'So you might literally start glowing in a packed Harpyhouse?'

'That's right.'

Ron shook his head in amazement. 'Will it make you nervous to know all the Weasleys will be there?'

'Really? Even Charlie?'

'Yeah, he wants to see Ginny play. And you, of course.'

'Will they hold a banner?' asked Harry nervously.

'For Ginny. But I'm sure it won't say anything bad about you.'

'No, that's what all the rest of the banners are for. Speaking of which, help me decide which of our dead mates are in the stands.' Harry told him how he'd pretended Remus and Tonks were at his last match, disguised as sanctimonious Harry-haters.

'Fred, no question,' said Ron. 'He and George will cook up something big—I'm sure of it. But who did you invite? Shouldn't you have a new girlfriend by now?'

'I do, but she's in Ireland this weekend. We're not dating exclusively, though.'

'Does that mean you're off to Pratt's tonight?' smirked Ron.

'Didn't you read the article? I said no more prostitutes.'

'And that was the truth? Blimey, I'd have figured you'd need to blow off steam after learning about Ginny and Zabini. And besides, you need to take me there one of these days.'

'Make Percy take you, assuming the condom scheme pays off and he gets to join—which is apparently his life's ambition.'

'I don't know how he didn't get Sorted into Slytherin,' said Ron, shaking his head. 'Although we should be grateful he didn't, since he'd probably be in Azkaban by now.'

Not all Slytherins turn Dark, thought Harry defensively. 'Er, I have a confession. I was at Hogwarts the other night and I inadvertently got Sorted into Slytherin.'

'Inadvertently? Were you just standing there, minding your own business, and then the Hat dive-bombed you and shouted SLYTHERIN?'

Harry explained how the Hat had wanted to reevaluate him post-Horcrux. 'It didn't say I was a Slytherin, but rather that I belong there, whatever that means.'

'Of course you're a Slytherin—you're a Black,' said Ron wryly. 'The Hat probably talked it over in advance with your ring. But, it makes sense—the first time you were Sorted, you rejected Slytherin because you didn't want to go Dark. But now there's no risk of that. And face it: you're pretty bloody ambitious.'

'You mean because I want to drive the Knight Bus?' joked Harry. 'Ernie can't last forever, and my eyesight is far better than his.' Ron laughed, and Harry said, 'You're right—I am ambitious. I want to prevent the next war, and promote the Light Arts, and revisit goblin treaties, and make wizarding society less unequal, and protect Squibs ... Shall I go on?'

'You forgot to mention catching the Snitch this afternoon.'

'I mainly want to get out of there in one piece,' admitted Harry. 'But yeah, I also want to win.'

They passed the rest of the morning as usual until Harry left for the Cannons training grounds. 'Today's the day,' said Darren solemnly. 'The day you reveal your true power to the wizarding world.'

'His Light magic, you mean?' asked Gemma.

'Actually, I was referring to our plans after the match. But yeah, the Light magic too—why not?'

'What are your plans after the match?' asked Gemma.

Harry felt his cheeks turn red, and he muttered something about going out for drinks.

'Oh, are you on the pull again? That makes sense. Once you've gone public, you can just go to Penumbra and use your Light magic as a sort of bat signal to lure witches. Which is more efficient, really, assuming you want to save your energy for what's to follow.'

'Gemma, you're brilliant!' exclaimed Darren. 'Harry, can your Light Arts instructor teach you how to make shapes when you glow? You could have a lightning bolt, like your Cannons emblem!'

'Er, they're actually developing glowing merchandise for me. It'll be on sale next Saturday.'

'Because you weren't content merely to bury your teammates with your merchandise sales?' said Darren. 'You need to humiliate us on top of it?'

'What are you on about?' said Suresh. 'Lara says everyone's sales have increased. Apparently, for everyone who buys Harry's merchandise, there's someone who buys one of our items so they don't look like a conformist.'

'I had some merchandise sales,' announced Gemma proudly. 'Not a lot, since all I have so far is a player photograph. But still, it was more than nothing, like on my first pay statement.'

'Congratulations,' said Harry. 'Are they going to produce new merchandise now that you've caught the Snitch? And shouldn't they take a new team photograph?'

'Susanna said they only do that for starters. But she wants to get a picture of the two of us, since we're both Seekers. I think that'll happen next week.'

'You need a figurine,' declared Janet. 'I finally got one, and it's more popular than they expected, although I could have told you it'd be a big seller. Girl power, you know.'

'Like the Spice Girls,' declared Gemma. 'Only we're all Sporty—except for Harry, who's Posh.'

'Oi!'

'Snitchbottom, you're about to go to Harpies Stadium,' said Suresh. 'Now is not the time to be hypersensitive.'

The trainers led them through their pre-match warmup, and then Owen found Harry during lunch. 'How are you doing? Are you ready for the Harpies?'

'Yeah, I reckon so. Whether I'll win is another story, but at least I'm free to start glowing if necessary.'

'Do it,' said Owen. 'It'll make a brilliant finish, no matter what happens.'

They travelled by Floo to Harpies Stadium, and after changing into his team robes and being inspected for illegal charms, Harry practised the exercise Davina had taught him. His glowing was still hard to control, but it seemed to be getting more powerful and, if possible, more enjoyable.

'What's the weather out there?' he asked Owen, who had been outside.

'Overcast. Not the best spotting weather, since the light's very flat. But that's not your biggest problem.'

'Oh?'

'The banners ... they're brutal. Usually the crowd is split evenly at away matches, but the Harpyheads are as loyal as Cannons fans are, so the stands are probably three-quarters green,' he said, referring to the Harpies' team colour.

'Any new themes I should know about?'

'There's a lot about Ginny, and how she didn't want you.'

'Right,' said Harry nodding. 'I anticipated that.'

'Not much in the way of "Mothers Against Harry Potter," but there's a new word out there: "Manwhore."'

Harry inhaled sharply. 'Is that on a lot of banners?'

'Yes. I suspect there was a coordinated effort—Harpyheads are notoriously cutthroat.'

'And well-organised, apparently. What else? Anything war-related?'

'Yeah. A couple of banners saying you stole the credit and that Ginny and Hermione were the real heroes.'

'That's not far off, as far as Hermione is concerned,' said Harry uncertainly, 'but I hope I didn't steal the credit.'

'Of course you didn't steal the credit!' snapped Owen. 'Don't let them into your head like that!'

'You're right, sorry. Anything else? Nothing about the Dursleys, I hope.'

'No, that's apparently where the Harpyheads drew the line, but I can't speak for Hobbs. Otherwise it's just the usual taunts: Harry Toffer, Lord Blatch, and so forth. But be prepared to see "Manwhore" everywhere you look.'

Harry took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. 'Thanks for the warning.' The other starters began walking down the corridor leading to the stadium, and Harry said, 'Wish me luck.'

'Use the Force, Luke,' said Owen, causing Harry to laugh. 'You'll be fine.'

Harry was the last of the Cannons to be announced, and for the first time in his Quidditch career there were considerably more boos than cheers. He deliberately expanded into awareness before taking in the crowd, but even that wasn't enough to soften the blow.

'Manwhore Go Home!' flashed a banner in angry green letters. 'She dumped you because you're disgusting!' said another. He also saw, 'The Manwhore Who Lived,' 'Hey Potter, you're rich and she still doesn't want you,' and 'Tough break, Manwhore—she'll never shag you again.'

Some were at least light-hearted. 'Harpies Stadium Welcomes the Community Pelvis!' said one banner, and another said, 'Attention Potter's Witches: You Owe Ginny Weasley Your Thanks.' And he was shocked but amused by a sign depicting a long-tongued snake, with the legend, 'You may be a manwhore, but at least you're a gentleman.'

One large banner featured an animated drawing of Harry shoving aside both Ginny and Hermione to collect his Order of Merlin medal. That doesn't even make sense, he thought, since Hermione had won the award as well. And another alternated between two drawings of Harry, entitled 'With Ginny' and 'Without Ginny.' In the first drawing, he wore Auror robes and was using his wand to cast a dazzling Patronus, and in the second he wore flamboyantly fitted robes and had his arm around a simpering blonde, who was guzzling from a large flask labelled 'Veritaserum.' I sincerely hope Lydia isn't in the stands, he thought. Because she'd curse the living daylights out of whoever made that.

The rest were the usual assortment, just as Owen had described, only with numerous references to Allie Hobbs. 'Hobbs: 150 - Manwhore: 0,' said one sign. And 'Allie Hobbs earned her job as Seeker. Potter? Not so much.' Another sign actually accused him of buying his job as starting Seeker, which even he realised was absurd. Haven't they noticed I've won six matches? he wondered.

Finally there was a smattering of friendly signs in Cannons orange, with words of encouragement like 'We love you, Harry,' and 'Don't let the Harpyheads get you down!' And another, bordered in flowers and lightning bolts, said, 'World's Greatest Seeker.'

He joined his teammates in the air, and although it was too loud to hear them, they all showed their support nonverbally. The Harpies flew one by one into the stadium, and there was an excited hush when Ginny's turn arrived. 'And now, in her Harpies debut, our third Chaser, wearing number twenty-seven, Ginny Weasley!'

Harry cheered enthusiastically, partly to distract himself from how overwhelmed and hurt he was by the hostile surroundings. The words 'manwhore' and 'disgusting' repeated in his mind, and he thought uncomfortably about his plans with Darren for after the match.

The balls were launched, and he commenced his circling with a fast burst of flying to clear his head. It worked—he felt not only Light magic but also the startling clarity he'd experienced on Friday, and he set a firm intention to notice the Snitch and not be rattled by his surroundings. Normally he hoped the Snitch would take its time before appearing, for the fans' sake, but this time he invited it to appear right away.

Sadly, the Snitch ignored his request, and Harry circled the stadium once more. He was already tempted to feint, but he needed to pace himself for what would probably be a long match. And predictably, Allie Hobbs came and greeted him.

'Welcome to the Harpyhouse, Potter. They certainly rolled out the red carpet for you!'

'Yes, I can see that. And how are you doing?'

'I'm doing brilliantly, cheers. We're tied with Montrose for first place, and I'm about to break your winning streak. And not only that, I get to spend the next few hours with the most envied wizard in all Great Britain! Although I doubt anyone will envy you this particular experience.'

'Are you kidding? I get to play Quidditch in front of thousands of people, at least a quarter of whom don't hate me. And I get to watch Ginny's debut, though I suppose I won't be able to see her very well.'

'No, she's seeing someone else now. I won't name names, but I can tell you she's deliriously happy. Just the other day she said, '"I never realised what I'd been missing."'

Harry tried to let the words roll off him, and in his expanded state he was mostly successful. 'I'm glad Ginny is happy, but I'd enjoy getting to know you, as long as we're flying together.'

'I thought you didn't bother asking witches about themselves until after you shagged them,' said Hobbs. 'Or is this how you kill the time between your neurosis-fuelled sex marathons?'

'Actually, I have a growing number of hobbies.'

'Yes, you're the head of a Noble and Most Ancient House! Do your Muggle relations know you're a lord?'

'Hermione mentioned it to them, but I told them wizarding lordships are rubbish, so it probably went in one ear and out the other.'

'Rubbish? I thought lordships were bollocks? Isn't that your catchphrase?'

'It is. but I think I said "rubbish" that afternoon.'

'Yes, I imagine Aunt Petunia doesn't condone rude language.'

'That's true. But you've brought the topic back round to me, and I wanted to hear about you. Which school did you attend?'

'Dunbridge, in Northumberland. And you?'

'Er, Hogwarts.'

'What? The Hogwarts! Didn't Harry Potter go there?'

'Yes, and so did Ginny Weasley. And Gwenog Jones—have you met her?'

'Of course I have. She attends nearly all our matches—she's probably in the stands right now. But you mightn't be able to see her behind all the "Manwhore" banners.'

'Perhaps not,' shrugged Harry.

Hobbs was frowning. 'Is something wrong with you, Potter? All the other Seekers you've played said you knew how to taunt. But you're about as exciting as a dishrag this afternoon.'

'I gave up taunting a week and a half ago,' he replied. 'I didn't like how it was affecting me.'

'You can't play Quidditch without taunting,' she argued. 'Not Seeker, anyway.'

'I don't know what to tell you, but I don't taunt anymore. Not if I can help it, anyway.'

'Are you saying I can say every hideous insult I can think of, and you're not going to respond in kind?'

'I make no promises, but that's the idea. I should warn you, though, that one-sided taunting tends to fall flat.'

'I noticed that,' replied Hobbs. 'Which means I just have to be more creative.'

'Do you mean make up stuff, like Gilstrap does?'

'No, that's not my style. I know all's fair above the pitch, but there are limits.'

'Really? You're the first Seeker to mention my Muggle relations.'

'Why should that be out of bounds? Isn't the whole point to get under your opponent's skin?'

'I thought it was to catch the Snitch,' replied Harry, 'but perhaps I'm naïve.'

He wasn't rattled, but he decided it was time to clear his head, so he amplified his Light magic and plunged into a precipitous feint. Then he skimmed the pitch before charging upwards through the Harpies Chasers, which gave him his first up-close view of Ginny.

I love that determined expression! he thought ecstatically. She was biting her lip, which caused her nose to scrunch up, and he recalled how he'd occasionally nipped it while she was studying for her N.E.W.T.s. She would swat him away, but he'd keep at it, and more often than not it led to a quick shag. He always pushed for a not-so-quick shag, but she insisted she needed to study, and he wasn't so swinish as to derail her completely.

That's what I miss, he realised. The playful little traditions. With the possible exception of Lydia, he hadn't been with anyone long enough to develop patterns. But he and Ginny shared years of memories, and many months of romance, which provided a rich vocabulary for their interactions.

Bugger, I'm feinting! he recalled suddenly. His Seeker instincts returned belatedly, and he found himself zooming nowhere. Fortunately no Bludgers were nearby, but he was mortified to have lost his focus that long during a match.

Hobbs found him and asked, 'Did someone get distracted? By a certain redhead, perhaps?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' replied Harry primly.

'Oh, yes you do. Ginny's team merchandise has sold remarkably well, especially considering she wasn't a starter until today. I reckon they'll start selling charmed caps that turn the wearer's hair into a long red ponytail. Although I notice they haven't made similar caps for your hair.'

'No, and I hope they don't—I wouldn't wish my hair on anyone.'

'It's not your best feature. Honestly, I can't figure out why you're considered good-looking. I'll grant you, your eyes are nice, but otherwise you're not classically handsome. Although some men can pull it off, and apparently you're one of them.'

'This is the first time a rival Seeker has insulted my appearance,' he observed.

She laughed and said, 'Try being a female Seeker! I've had every flaw scrutinised, ad nauseam. Gilstrap actually showed my photograph to a bunch of Muggles and took copious notes about everything that was wrong with me.'

'Merlin, what an arsehole!'

'That's something we can agree on,' she said bitterly, and Harry recalled that the Magpies had beaten the Harpies several weeks prior. 'But Ginny's new sweetheart is definitely easy on the eyes.'

'I suppose he is,' grumbled Harry.

Hobbs's eyes lit up wickedly. 'So you know who it is?'

'Yes, I pieced it together a few days ago. I know Zabini from Hogwarts.'

Smirking, she said, 'He caught everyone's eye the first time he attended a match. Clearly he resembles that mother of his.'

'I've never met her,' replied Harry stiffly.

'It's a good thing you have that vow against proposing marriage, otherwise you might be her next victim.'

Harry didn't reply—he was distracted by seeing the word 'Manwhore' in his peripheral vision, and he also didn't enjoy hearing about Blaise and Ginny. He took advantage of the silence to expand into awareness, and a huge flood of Light magic surged through him. Here it comes, he thought, and he wholeheartedly allowed himself to glow, but to his surprise nothing happened.

I must have dropped my resistance, he thought, recalling what Davina had advised. He almost felt disappointed he mightn't glow that afternoon, and he deliberately invited his hands to light up. There they are, he noted with relief, seeing the light through his gloves, and he decided it was time for another feint.

This time he aimed for Gary and Suresh, hoping to lure Hobbs into danger. He flew brilliantly, thanks to his powerful Light magic, but his rival emerged unscathed. 'At least you stayed awake this time, Toffer,' she said afterwards.

'Only Gemma can call me that,' he replied automatically.

'Really? Apparently nobody told the Harpyheads,' said Hobbs, gesturing towards the stands. 'But clearly "Manwhore" is more popular.'

'Nobody pays me.'

'No, of course not. But you're definitely cheap. And if you were a witch you'd be pilloried for it.'

'Do you lecture the other Seekers this way? I'm certain some of them are as promiscuous as I am—the only difference is I haven't any privacy.'

'No, you haven't, but that just makes my job more fun. And believe me, if I knew as much about the other Seekers as I know about you, I wouldn't hold back. Which, come to think of it, I've been doing. Here's a suggestion: I'll let you alone for a while, and then I'll give you my worst.'

'What choice do I have?'

'None, really,' she said breezily. 'See you later!'

She flew ahead, and Harry used his solitude to experiment with his Light magic, taking care to maintain his Seeker intensity. His hands were glowing continuously now, and he suspected some of the more observant spectators had noticed. The secret's out, he thought with satisfaction. All he needed to do was postpone the full display, if possible.

The banners were still overwhelming, but he tried to decide which one Fred and George were holding. It has to be a charmed one, thought Harry. Fred was absolutely brilliant at Charms. He was unsure, however, whether it would be primarily anti-Harry or pro-Ginny. In the first category, he identified a banner featuring a slithering Basilisk who kept bumping against a wall in frustration, and the accompanying text said, 'Potter, you can forget about her Chamber of Secrets.' In the second category, he chose the sign that showed Ginny flying with her wand extended, surrounded by orange-robed players with bats flapping from their nostrils.

Hobbs gave him a long time on his own, which he appreciated. But the Snitch didn't appear, and eventually she found him. 'Are you ready, Lord Black?'

'Really? Lord Black? That's so July.'

'I'm being retro,' she said. 'But I can really turn back the clock and call you "delusional." Or "attention-seeking," although I suppose that still applies. Or perhaps just "freak."'

'You're really stooping that low?'

'They were right,' she continued, ignoring his question. 'Not because you're magical, but because you're hopelessly abnormal. First you're a Parselmouth, then you're not. You survive not one but two Killing Curses, which is impressive but completely freakish. And then there's the prophecy, and I don't know the details, but normal people don't have prophecies about them. Only freaks do.'

'I'm sorry you're doing this,' he said sincerely. 'There's a reason I stopped taunting—it wasn't good for my mind.'

'Has it occurred to you that your mind is more fragile than other people's? Ginny said you have nightmares and wake up screaming about You-Know-Who.'

Ginny told her teammates about that? he thought sadly. 'That's private,' he said, frowning.

'Like your first time with her? She said you lasted about fifteen seconds.'

It was at least forty-five seconds, he recalled. 'That was just the first time. We were back at it minutes later, and I quickly improved.'

'Yes, so I hear. Your tarts seem pleased anyway.'

'Only some of them are tarts,' he snapped. 'They're mostly lovely.'

'But what good is it?' asked Hobbs. 'You can fuck every witch in England, but you'll never have Ginny back.'

And you're a raging bitch, he thought, keeping his mouth shut. His hands were still glowing, but he also felt fierce. 'This isn't worth it,' he said. 'You'll find out what I mean tomorrow.'

'What happens tomorrow?' she scoffed.

'Forget I said it. Carry on.'

She surveyed him and said, 'I reckon dating a redhead was the closest thing to having your mum back. Did you ever try suckling her? I've heard there are charms for that.'

'I've heard that taunt before. All the dead mum taunts, in fact—Owen Barrowmaker specialised in them.'

'Oh right, Barrowmaker! He was an awfully good sport about how you took his job.'

'I didn't take his job. His injuries prevented him from starting.'

'What about Rees then? She's as good a flyer as you are, only she earned it. After having her wand snapped during the war, all because you had your head up your arse! Ginny told me how lost you were, and that you'd never have succeeded without Granger.'

'She's right about Hermione, but I've always shared the credit.'

'Isn't it odd that Granger never fancied you? All I can guess is that she didn't grow up with all that Boy-Who-Lived bollocks like poor Ginny did. I reckon it was a rude awakening when Ginny discovered you weren't the Boy Who Lived, but just a colossal headcase. No wonder you fell apart when she dumped you.'

Harry decided he'd had enough, and so he avoided her for a while. Can I glow everywhere but my face? he wondered. Or just glow slightly? The latter seemed more achievable, so he set the intention and allowed his magic to flow accordingly.

Yes, that's working. My hands are less bright, but the overall sensation is stronger. I just need to keep my Seeker instincts alive. Out of curiosity, he pulled back his sleeve and saw that he was glowing faintly, which suggested his face was the same. The cat's definitely out of the bag, he thought. It's time to show the world that Light wizards can fly!

The Cannons Chasers had the Quaffle, so Harry shot towards the Harpies rings in an apparent Plocking attempt. But instead of flying through one of the hoops, he turned sharply at the last moment, which caused confusion and allowed Darren to score. 'I can see you!' Darren shouted, and Harry acknowledged him with a cheeky grin.

Now catch the bleeding Snitch, he thought, resuming his circling pattern. But Hobbs found him and just stared for a moment. 'What the hell is going on?' she scowled. 'Don't tell me you have Glowpox.'

'It was never Glowpox,' he said exultantly. 'It's Light magic, and it's brilliant.'

'Light magic? Like the Patronus Charm?'

'Yes, but it's so much more than that. You'll read about it tomorrow.' He flew downwards, opting to work from a lower vantage point than before. Hobbs was a good spotter, and he knew it would just be a matter of luck who reached the Snitch first. But it'll be perfect either way, he thought blissfully, and his glow brightened.

They spotted the Snitch simultaneously, but Harry's choice to fly lower proved a mistake. Hobbs was closer, but Harry was undeterred, and he flew at top speed in case she made a mistake. He did every bodily tweak he could think of, and he completely uncorked his Light magic as well.

The final confrontation was closer than he expected, but Hobbs made the catch, prompting an explosion of high-pitched cheers. Harry was awash with bliss, not at all unhappy about the outcome, and he found his teammates. 'I love you!' he cried, throwing his arms around Renée.

'You realise we lost, right?' she asked, smirking.

'Yes! I'm a real Cannon now! That was brilliant!'

She laughed and said, 'Are you aware you're glowing like a beacon?'

'I know! It's public! I can glow whenever I want now!'

He and the other Cannons landed, allowing Hobbs and the Harpies to fly victory laps, and Harry enthusiastically embraced all his teammates. Darren hugged him back and said, 'So, when do we start celebrating?'

Harry's glow must have dimmed, because Darren frowned and said, 'Don't tell me you've changed your mind because of all the Manwhore rubbish!'

'I don't know,' he admitted. 'I'd rather play it by ear.'

'Fine,' said Darren suspiciously. 'But give me fair warning before cutting bait ... I don't want you pulling out at the last minute.'

'Said the actress to the bishop,' quipped Janet. 'And lighten up, Snitchbottom! You're free of Hobbs until next season!'

Harry literally brightened, and he realised he should congratulate Ginny. He looked for her on the pitch, and to his surprise she was kissing one of her teammates. I suppose women are more demonstrative than men, he thought, until their kiss lengthened. With dawning realisation he remembered what she'd said about her trip to Rome. 'I went with my teammate Wendy and a friend. We had a great time,' he recalled, and he almost cried with relief. It's Wendy! Her secret love is another witch!

His Light magic surged as he watched them, but he politely waited at a distance until they'd pulled apart. 'Ginny!' he called. 'Congratulations!'

'Harry! What on earth is going on with you?'

'It's Light magic,' he replied. 'You'll read all about it tomorrow. And don't worry when you see the byline—Rita Skeeter—because it's completely true.'

'Light magic? Like the Patronus Charm?' she asked, and he gave her a brief overview. 'Oh, Harry! That sounds wonderful—I'm so happy for you.'

'And I'm happy for you too,' he said sincerely, still glowing brightly. 'Is this Wendy?'

'Yes,' she replied, blushing. 'We've been together for a month now, but we couldn't keep it secret any longer, even though Molly will need a Calming Draught. Wendy, meet Harry.'

She extended her hand, and Harry had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around her. 'I can't tell you how glad I am you're not Blaise Zabini.'

'You thought I was dating Blaise?' exclaimed Ginny, laughing.

'Yes, and Hobbs didn't correct my mistake. Merlin, she was brutal!'

'And so were the Harpyheads,' scowled Wendy. 'I'm so sorry! I've never seen them gang up on a single player like that.'

'Welcome to my life,' replied Harry. Turning back towards Ginny, he quietly asked, 'Did you tell Hobbs about my nightmares?'

'What? No, of course not! Did she taunt you about them?'

'Yes, and also about the first time we had sex, and how long it lasted. Or didn't last, rather.'

'I'll admit I told her that,' said Ginny sheepishly, 'but it was after the Sorceress article came out, and my point was that even you were underwhelming on your first try. But I never mentioned your nightmares.'

'Er, you told me about them,' admitted Wendy. 'At the pub, after a match. You probably thought we were alone, since we were at that corner table, but Allie was behind you.'

'Oh no! You're right! Harry, I'm so sorry ... I would never normally reveal something so personal.'

'That's all right,' he said warmly. 'But don't let me keep you—I'm sure the reporters want to talk to you.'

'No, they won't!' she laughed. 'Did you forget you're glowing?'

'Oh, bugger—you're right! I'm sorry to upstage you.'

'Story of my life,' she replied, kissing him on the cheek. 'Good luck with the upcoming news frenzy.'

Next, Harry made a point of congratulating Hobbs. 'That was a good catch,' he said. 'You spotted it the same moment I did.'

'High praise indeed!' she said, rolling her eyes. 'I was genuinely disappointed you didn't taunt me—I was hoping for a fugue state—but in the end you weren't boring.

She was dragged away by the other Harpies, and Harry rejoined his teammates. 'Owen, sorry I didn't catch the Snitch!'

'Don't worry about it,' said Owen. 'Your flying was great, and it was just bad luck that you were low and the Snitch was high. Although you got closer than I expected.'

'Did I teleport?' whispered Harry.

'No, I watched the recording. You were just really fast.'

'Do you know when people began to notice I was glowing?'

'Close observers probably saw it when it was just your hands,' said Owen. 'But I didn't overhear anything until your face started to glow, although it was more subtle than usual.' Harry explained how he'd deliberately modulated his Light magic, and Owen nodded in approval. 'I could see it in your flying—that Plocking fake-out was fantastic. And then everyone saw it when you raced for the Snitch.'

Tuttle approached Harry and said, 'It was a good, honest loss—nothing to be ashamed of. You didn't make any huge errors, except for that embarrassment of a feint at the beginning, and the end was just bad luck.'

'I might have won if I'd stayed close to her,' he admitted. 'But she was nearly as bad as Gilstrap and I needed a break.'

'You're not easy to rattle when you're glowing, so I'll trust your judgment. Now let's go talk to the reporters—something tells me they'll have a question or two.'

All of the Cannons—staff included—had been briefed on what they could reveal about Harry's Light magic before Rita's article was published, and their answers quickly became repetitive. 'You'll read the full story tomorrow, and Tuesday night I'll be on Weasley's Wizard Wireless,' Harry told them.

The reporters may have been disappointed, but the photographers weren't—he posed for numerous photos, with his teammates and even with Ginny. He was glowing in all of them, and he inwardly marvelled that he no longer had to hide it. When can we go to the Spyglass? he wondered impatiently.

Invited guests flowed onto the pitch, and Harry found himself surrounded by Weasleys. 'Harry, those banners!' cried an indignant Molly. 'I scolded the witches behind us for insulting you like that! I told them you're an orphan and it's not your fault you never learnt moderation.'

'Er, thanks?' said Harry uncertainly.

'You're welcome, dear. But then when we realised what was happening, I gave them a stern lecture on how Light magic can affect a wizard. Arthur told me all about it when we were courting, after all.'

'Did he?' asked Harry, turning towards the Weasley patriarch.

Arthur looked sheepish and said, 'Not everyone glows, you know, and I thought maybe it was, er, the best explanation ...' He trailed off.

'Say no more,' replied Harry, trying not to laugh. He was rescued by Bill and Fleur, who exclaimed over his Light magic.

'At first I thought it was my imagination,' said Bill. 'I knew about Light magic, but I also know how rare it is, so I made a joke to Fleur about it: "Oh, look, Harry's glowing—maybe he's part Veela too."'

Fleur looked around to make sure no one was listening. 'That is not what you said,' she whispered. 'You said, "Look, Harry is glowing. Maybe he's pregnant too."'

'You're pregnant!' gasped Harry quietly. 'Congratulations, that's marvellous!'

'Yes, it is merveilleux,' said Fleur, 'but do not tell anyone—especially not belle-mère Weasley. She is always dropping hints, and I do not want to give her the satisfaction.'

Bill smiled indulgently and said, 'It's also early yet, so we don't want to make it public, and there's no way Mum could keep her mouth shut.'

'Understood. Did you enjoy the match?'

'I hated the horrible banners about you,' said Fleur. 'Bill had to explain to me what "manwhore" is, and I roll my eyes. Typical Anglo-Saxon puritanism.'

'The banners were vile,' said Bill, 'but I was impressed by how well you handled it. They didn't seem to rattle you at all.'

'That's not true,' admitted Harry. 'I've never flown in a stadium this hostile, and Allie Hobbs was merciless—I'm not sure I could have handled it without the Light magic.'

'Don't tell me you would have punched her!' exclaimed Bill.

'No, of course not. But I mightn't have spotted the Snitch the same time she did. Not that it mattered.'

'That was a tough break, but you have nothing to be ashamed of,' said Bill. 'Forget about the Harpies, and for Merlin's sake, enjoy your Light magic!'

'I will, trust me.' Keeping his voice low, Harry added, 'But there's something I've been meaning to tell you about ... you're familiar with Pratt's, right?'

'Of course—Ernest Prewett has hinted about nominating me for membership, but I keep putting him off. Why do you ask?'

'I went there, and Phineas Nigellus warded it.'

'Damn him! But what brought you to Pratt's?'

'Er, they invited me to join, and Percy and George persuaded me to accept.'

Bill's eyes widened. 'I gather they didn't know about your Light magic?'

'Not until this afternoon, same as you.'

'Blimey—they're probably having an emergency meeting as we speak! I don't think they'd kick you out, but they'll want reassurances you won't hurt anyone.'

'I've been experiencing accidental Light magic for nearly a month and it hasn't been a problem, even when Dark wizards attempted Legilimency on me. So they needn't worry I'll barge into the lounge and start snapping wands.'

'That would be exciting,' said Bill with a chuckle. 'But about the wards ... you'll need to bring it to the attention of the management, outside the club walls. And don't tell them you told me—I'm sure they want to keep this private.'

'Definitely,' said Harry. He spent a few more minutes asking Fleur how she was feeling before turning to his other guests. But Hermione assailed him mid-conversation with Neville.

'Those banners were horrible!' she cried. 'The Harpyheads should be ashamed of themselves, collectively.'

'It's just a game,' said Harry, who was more interested in calming Hermione than having her come to his defence.

'Lucinda was furious!' she continued. 'She actually started walking through the stadium and scolding people—the only reason I didn't join her is because I'm too recognisable.'

'I hope that didn't ruin the match for her!'

'Not at all—she said it had been ages since she'd had that much fun at a Quidditch match. Walter suggested she start "Mothers For Harry Potter," and I think she might do it.'

Darren tugged at Harry's sleeve. 'Snitchbottom, quit holding everyone up. We have a post-defeat ritual to attend to.'

'Oh right—my full initiation as a Cannon.' Harry excused himself and followed Darren to the locker room. 'Will I be at a disadvantage if I start the ritual on an empty stomach?' he asked.

'No, nothing like that. You'll see.'

Tuttle gave her post-match notes, which were ironically more positive than any of the notes she'd provided after a victory. 'Nothing against your old girlfriend, Potter, but she's not starter material. She probably will be a year from now, but there's a reason Chasers aren't normally promoted this fast.'

'That didn't keep them from winning,' remarked Janet dryly.

'Yes, but that's Quidditch scoring for you,' said Darren. 'Not that I'm bitter.'

After showering, Harry waited for his teammates to provide instructions. 'Where do we go for this ritual? The Spyglass?'

'No,' replied Gary. 'This is private, for Cannons only. It's at Chudley Stadium.'

'Am I dressed all right?' asked Harry, looking at his robes, which Lydia had helped him purchase.

'You're dressed perfectly,' declared Janet. 'As always.'

When all the players emerged from the locker rooms, Harry approached the fireplace but Ryan stopped him. 'We're Apparating.'

'To Chudley Stadium?'

'Yes, to Chudley Stadium,' insisted Ryan, taking Harry's hand.

Ryan turned on his heel, and seconds later Harry found himself on what looked like the stadium's front parapet. They stood before a bronze cannon, which was in a row with six others. Ryan pulled Harry to the side, and thirty seconds later Waldemar, one of the reserve Chasers, appeared in their original landing spot.

All fourteen players arrived, and Janet waved Gemma and Harry to an unmanned cannon next to hers. 'This is where you'll Apparate next time,' she instructed. 'Starters first, then reserves—to avoid collisions.'

Gemma and Harry looked at the cannon in fascination. 'How old is this thing?' she asked.

'Nobody knows for certain, but really bloody old,' replied Gary. 'The team dates back to the fifteenth century at least, although it's hard to know for certain because the old records were destroyed in a fire.'

'Not caused by a cannon,' said Ryan. 'I checked.'

Harry noticed that the other players were fetching cannonballs from a large wooden box. 'Are those actual Muggle cannonballs?'

'What are we, savages?' retorted Janet. 'No, they're charmed!'

'Charmed to do what?' asked Gemma tentatively.

'You'll see,' said Janet, suppressing a grin.

She led Harry and Gemma to the box. 'You'll want three cannonballs total,' she explained before showing them how to load the first ball. 'You first, Snitchbottom.'

Harry saw that the reserve players had stepped aside and that the starters had pulled out their wands, so he did the same. 'What's the incantation?' he asked.

'Typical Hogwarts,' said Suresh, rolling his eyes. 'At Binglingham we learnt charms for firing Muggle artillery in second year.' Harry looked at him in surprise, and Suresh added, 'Or maybe I just made that up.'

'It's Cabumus,' said Ryan. 'And you just aim your wand at the back of the cannon. But stand back.'

'On three!' ordered Gary. 'One, two, three!'

Harry performed the charm along with his teammates, and seven cannonballs blasted out simultaneously. They were aimed slightly upwards, and Harry wondered how far they would travel, but then they exploded mid-trajectory as if they'd collided with an invisible barrier. The resulting display looked like bright orange fireworks, which filled the sky even though it wasn't yet dark out.

'That barrier is the wards,' began Ryan, but he was interrupted by an enthusiastic Gemma.

'Fan-fucking-tastic!' she cried. 'Is it my turn now?'

'Just load the next ball,' said Ryan. Harry and Gemma readied their cannon, and he stepped out of the way.

When the reserves fired their cannons, the resulting display was still orange, but the light pattern was shaped like broomsticks, flying in all directions. 'That is unbelievably cool!' exclaimed Harry.

'Just you wait,' said Janet.

Harry and Gemma prepared their cannon for the final round, and Ryan said, 'Now you'll both perform the spell simultaneously.'

Gary counted down, and all fourteen players recited the incantation at once. This time, the explosion included the full colour spectrum, and the entire area within the wards was flooded with rainbow light.

Harry couldn't help glowing. 'It's so beautiful!' he said joyfully.

'Do you see why this is a tradition?' asked Renée.

Harry nodded, unable to find words. 'No wonder the Cannons used to lose so often,' said Gemma. 'It's almost worth losing, just to see this.'

Gary shook his head. 'No, that last one was brighter than I've ever seen. The first two are always the same, but the last one supposedly accumulates more magic the longer we go without a defeat. Mind you—it's always good—but I've never seen it like that.'

'How does that even work?' asked Harry. 'We used the same cannonballs for all three.'

Ryan said, 'Collaborative magic. Seven is a powerful number, after all. Rumour is the cannons won't fire if there are only six people, although I've never tested that. And there are charms on the cannons themselves, which interact differently with the cannonballs depending on whether it's the first, second, or third firing. Supposedly a fourth firing doesn't work either.'

'Why do we only fire the cannons after losing?' asked Gemma. 'Not that I'm complaining, mind you.'

'The explanation I heard was that, above all, Quidditch is supposed to be fun,' replied Gary. 'It's easy to celebrate winning, but losing can be hard, so the idea was to provide a silver lining. Or a bright orange lining, rather.'

'And you don't think this has anything to do with the Cannons' long history of losing?' she persisted.

'No, the Cannons were dominant during the nineteenth century,' said Renée. 'If anything, I think this tradition has helped the team, because it keeps us in good spirits. I suspect that's part of why the fans are so loyal, even though they don't know about it.'

'Oh, right,' said Gary. 'You mustn't tell anyone. My wife doesn't even know about it, and I tell her everything.'

Harry was astonished. 'Ryan, have you actually not told Hermione about a weird application of Charms?'

'I haven't, and it's killing me. But rules are rules.'

The players Apparated the short distance to the stadium fireplace in preparation for their trip to the Cracked Spyglass. Darren found Harry and asked, 'Are you with me, Snitchbottom?'

'Like I said, I'm going to play it by ear,' he replied. 'But I'm free to glow in public, and there are bound to be a lot of eager fans, so I'm not ruling anything out.'

Darren's mouth curved into a smile. 'That's all I ask,' he said, and they stepped one at a time into the green flames.