Harry Potter and the Method of Double-Tap.

An interlude for murder.

Pressing matters.

Professor Carrow had been making fifth year potions terrible.

Even more biased than Snape, and a blood supremacist. She wasn't rude to Harry, she just…always gave him a Poor, no matter what he did. Hermione, she would call out for making a muddy potion. It was clear what the professor really meant.

Professor Trelawney mercifully did not continue to predict Harry's death. Either she's got bored of it, or was actually psychic, and his adventure at the end of fourth year had changed things.

-==0==-

The day before the next Hogsmeade weekend, Harry got a letter from Cyrus Greengrass, telling him that family business would mean Cyrus would take him from Hogsmeade for an hour-long trip to the Greengrasses. Harry should meet him at the Three Broomsticks, at ten.

His father-in-law-to-be was waiting near the fire at the Three Broomsticks. Daphne Greengrass arrived a few minutes after Harry.

"Daphne dear. Harry. We're going home, Daphne, your mother will see you, and Harry, we're going to see the snake in the warehouse." said Cyrus, taking some floo powder.

"Is it very big, father? I'd like to see it" asked Daphne as they stepped out of a fireplace somewhere else.

Daphne tagged along, her mother following.

Harry was dragged over to stand next to the dead Baslisk in the cold warehouse. It's mouth was propped open with large sticks. The space where the missing tooth was drew Harry's eye. A cold chill passed over Harry's back. Harry shivered. The head was as tall as Harry.

"It's huge" Daphne squeaked. Which didn't help, as Harry remembered it chasing him, and started to take panting breaths. His hands shook, so he jammed them in his pockets.

"Put your foot against the head?" asked Cyrus.

Harry shook his head "Bit risky."

Daphne went over and inspected the top of the head "Where's the sword wound, Potter?"

"Inside it's mouth" said Harry, "Can we not do this. Can I go?" His skin felt clammy, and his pulse was racing.

Daphne knelt down and looked up into the mouth "The… the hole's all the way back!" she exclaimed

"Which is why the scar's on my upper arm" said Harry bluntly.

Roxanne Greengrass said "Daphne, get off the floor" curtly.

"So… Harry" said Cyrus "What does the sword you used look like?"

"Well it's the sword of Godric Griffindor. So it's goblin silver, with three egg-sized rubies, one on the bottom, and two on the cross bits." explained Harry.

"How… long is that sword?" asked Cyrus. Harry held his hand out, and Cyrus conjured a sword with red stones, and held it out to Harry "Like this?"

Harry was quite impressed with the way his father-in-law-to-be conjured a sword. It didn't look that much like Godric Griffindor's sword, but… Harry explained the differences, and the sword vanished, to be replaced, after some wand-waving by Cyrus, with a sword, that if you had seen the real one, looked a bit like it.

"Okay Harry, get a feel for it, and the press should be here soon" said Cyrus, handing Harry the sword.

"The what?" asked Harry, lifting the sword that was far lighter than the real one.

"The press. I've invited the Prophet to photograph it. After all, you slew it." said Cyrus.

"I don't… I don't want my picture in the Prophet" protested Harry.

"But you killed this … bloody enormous snake, you deserve some credit for it" said Cyrus.

"Language Cyrus" said Roxanne Greengrass politely.

"I don't want to be famous!" protested Harry, throwing the sword down angrily with a clang "I killed that because I needed to save… someone, and it was trying to kill me. Not to have my photo in the bloody Prophet!" Harry's hands were shaking fists, and his jaw clenched uncomfortably, and his heart wouldn't stop racing. The sound of his own heartbeat was deafening him.

Then Rita Skeeter and Bozo the photographer arrived. So his day could get worse.

Harry resentfully held the sword's hilt, it's point on the ground next to the snake and glared at the camera. Rita had come into the warehouse full of her usual verve, but was staring at the snake, looking rather pale.

"How… old were you again when you killed this?" asked Rita.

"Twelve Rita. I was twelve. Before you annoyed me at the Tri-Wizard tournament. Over and Over again" said Harry pointedly. Rita swallowed. "Quite." she said, making a note using a normal quill.

"Rita has agreed to only use a normal quill for this exclusive" said Roxanne Greengrass politely "And not to get creative in the story. It would be terrible shame if the Greengrasses and Blacks sued Rita for slander." finished Roxanne, smiling at Rita, in a way that was eerily like the way the Basilisk had looked at Harry.

"I have to move the camera back" said Bozo, and he ended up with the camera tripod nearly twenty feet away, and after checking under the camera's skirt got out the camera flash.

"If… Mister Potter would hold the sword and look towards the camera?" asked Bozo quite politely.

Harry glared at the camera, and with a puff of purple smoke, the flash went off.

Bozo fiddled about and took two more pictures.

"Can I ask Miss Greengrass how she feels about the revelation that Harry Potter killed this enormous snake when he was twelve?" asked Rita.

"I am, naturally, disgusted. It's gigantic. However, I suppose I don't have to worry about dangerous creatures once we're married. He seems quite capable of…. Of… killing things." said Daphne.

"Any chance of an action shot, re-enacting the actual slaying?" asked Bozo.

Harry was filled with anger "Are you fucking insane?" he retorted "Last time I did it I nearly died when it bit me. Without a phoenix to heal me I'd live about three minutes if I get so much as a cut from the teeth."

"Care of magical creatures wasn't Bozo's best class" said Rita nervously.

Harry found the sword in his hand rising, his arms shaking with barely suppressed anger "Get out Rita. I might mistake you for a venomous snake in that dress".

With a puff of purple smoke Bozo had taken another photo.

-==0==-

The Daily Prophet, naturally went with the angry picture of Harry, sword raised next to the Basilisk.

"Harry Potter saved Hogwarts aged Twelve" was the front page headline.

"Bloody hell" said Ron "That thing's huge, and Harry, you look ready to kill another one."

Harry glared at Ron "Rita and Bozo were annoying me."

"Harry, you do look… rather grimly Heroic" said Hermione politely.

Which was when Colin and Dennis arrived, wanting their copy of the Prophet signed.

As Harry grumpily signed with Hermione's self-inking quill, Ginny Weasley let out a squeak and fled the great hall. Harry looked up and saw the flame red hair leaving.

"Ron, take your sister to Madam Pomfrey" said Harry crossly. "She's scared of snakes."

-==0==-

Harry was expected at Grimmauld for Yule, so he took the train … home.

Hermione was making last-minute Christmas cards and wrapping a couple of presents on the train.

"I can't do magic at home, so I do it on the way home" she explained. "Mum and dad love getting magical cards and wrappings. Makes them feel included."

-==0==-

Sirius took Harry by Apparation to Diagon Ally. "Last minute shopping" he said.

Harry had a parcel for Sirius, and one for Remus already.

"I've got you and Remus one" said Harry.

"You need at least one for your Aunt Andromeda. Have you got the Greengrasses presents?"

"Er no" said Harry.

"Oh Merlin." said Sirius.

Hours and hours later, cold, hungry and tired, Harry had ten times the presents he'd had. And owl-posted off presents to Hermione and Ron. "What about posting the Greengrasses presents?" asked Harry.

"We're going over for dinner that night, so you will be carrying them" said Sirius. "They're practically family."

Harry wished he could have got a better present for Daphne. Hopefully the book on Runes and chocolates would be okay. Sirius hadn't had any really good ideas.

-==0==-

Yule lunch was at Grimmauld Place, with the Tonkses.

Which had Aunt Andromeda, a tall brown haired woman who sat very stiffly; her husband Ted seemed... quite nice really, and his cousin Tonks… wore a weird-sisters t-shirt under her black leather coat with fingerless gloves and had spiky pink hair.

Weirdly, Tonks was very impressed by the snake. "You should be an Auror" she said, nodding. Harry felt… like he'd got a compliment from someone cool. He remembered Tonks casting that spell on the ghost.

Then Aunt Andromeda asked what they were doing for dinner, if they'd like to have dinner at their house

"And you, boy" said Aunt Andromeda "What's her present?"

"Um… a book and chocolates?" said Harry.

"Oh for the love of Merlin!" said Aunt Andromeda. "Has the boy given her ANY traditional courting gifts?"

"Well they're not courting are they." said Sirius, and he got hexed, and yelped in pain.

"Get the damn elf in here, and send it to Gringotts for a necklace and a bracelet and a bookmark." said Aunt Andromeda.

"Andy… you eloped with Ted" said Sirius.

"Who is a muggeborn, and was actually in love with me. The poor girl's being dragged into this. You said the boy will grow?" Ted leaned over and smooched his aunt. Aunt Andromeda smiled rather sweetly. Harry felt more disturbed that she was so lovey with uncle Ted, and rather stern, at the same time.

Kreacher went away and reappeared with boxes of jewellery.

Harry was given three pieces of Black family jewellery to wrap up. They were old, covered in gemstones and looked… like someone had wanted to show off by having a lot of jewels and gold.

"The bookmark should have been given ages ago" said Andromeda. "Put it with the book."

"Now, Harry, you're giving the bracelet today, and on her birthday, the necklace."

Harry nodded.

"Why isn't the boy wearing rings?" asked Aunt Andromeda.

"Nobody does that any more Andy" said Sirius, and got hexed again.

"Send the elf for rings. He needs a heirs ring, and a Potter ring if there is one." said Andromeda.

"Kreacher" called Sirius.

And then, when Harry felt it couldn't get more involved, Harry had to go to Gringotts with Sirius to get into the Potter vault, and dig in the piles of galleons for a ring. Sirius eventually found a signet ring using the summoning charm. The ring was golden, and small compared to the Black heirs ring. It just had a simple P cut into the tiny shield on the front of it. Harry put it on tiredly, feeling like it was getting to dinnertime.

"What's the time?" asked Harry.

Sirius checked his watch "Time to get changed and go to dinner" said Sirius "And you need a watch too."

So Sirius tried summoning a watch from the treasure, and got a golden pocket-watch, "Here… it's not your dad's watch, but it's probably your grandfathers."

Harry clumsily opened the front, and inside, ignoring the very complicated dials, there was an inscription "F Potter. If found return to Stinchcombe house."

"F Potter?" asked Harry.

"Your grandfather Monty. Let's get going." said Sirius, and that made no sense at all. Monty doesn't start with an F.

Harry pocketed the watch and rode up to the surface, Sirius explaining briefly about his grandfather Fleamont, called Monty, who had sold a business and made the Potters a lot richer.

"What did the business do?" asked Harry.

"Sleekeazys hair lotion" said Sirius "He designed it to tame a Potter mop. It works on anyone."

"My grandfather invented Sleekeazys?" asked Harry.

"I think there's a little in the house, We'll shove some into your hair." said Sirius.

Harry pulled on his good robes, and Sirius put two drops onto Harry's hair and rubbed it in, then combed his hair; which sat down. Harry looked in the mirror, incredulously "It's not sticking up and sideways?"

"Yeah, Prongs used to break it out for dates and stuff" said Sirius "Come on, lets get to the fireplace. We're nearly late."

Harry, carrying a bag of presents, stepped out of the floo at Greengrass.

"What happened to his hair?" asked Astoria.

"Sleekeazys" said Sirius "His grandfather invented it for his own hair"

"He's wearing rings?" asked Daphne "He never wears… and a pocket watch?"

"Grandfathers watch" admitted Harry.

Daphne looked slightly interested in the book, seemed pleased to see dark choc pralines, and got a very annoyed look for the jewelled bookmark.

"A courting gift. I have no choice" she hissed.

The bracelet was so covered in gems, Daphne was unable to hiss. "Well, If I ever need to fund a small army, I've got this I suppose." she said. "I take it your Aunt made this happen?"

Harry nodded "I've got a necklace for your birthday too."

"I don't love you Potter, and I never will." she said. "No amount of jewellery can buy my love."

Harry felt a bit annoyed by Aunt Andromeda. He didn't want to buy Daphne's love.

-==0==-

Harry spent most of the trip back to Hogwarts using the badly written instructions to wind and set his grandfathers watch. Time, day, phase of moon, year. All those dials needed reset.

"It's quite elaborate" said Hermione "your grandfathers?"

"He owned the Sleekeazy company till he sold it and retired" said Harry. "Invented to make his hair, my hair behave."

Hermione blushed and went back to her book.

-==0==-

January turned into February, and Professor Trelawney announced that they were going to divine the names of their true loves. Which caused a large number of the girls in the class to giggle and almost chatter in class.

"This is a very uncertain kind of divination" quavered Professor Trelawney, and Harry nearly fell off the ottoman he was perched on in shock.

"We will begin by making a parcel to be kept under your pillow for a week. It will allow the herbs to be imbued with your aura, so that they will give a truer vision. Conveniently, this will allow the exercise to occur on February the fourteenth." she said. Harry blinked, that sounded, woolly, yet… more like actual magic than just staring at crystal balls. Lavender bounced up and down on her cushion, hand raised… looking like Hermione.

"Please Professor, will we be doing other kinds of love divination this month too?" asked Lavender.

"Because the stars are right, we will also try a rather tiresome method for determining the love compatibility of two people, but it hardly ever works, so don't get your hopes up" said the Professor bitterly. Harry nearly laughed. Professor Trelawney had, obviously done badly at that in the past. Ron looked oddly intent. Harry tried not to laugh at Ron.

"And finally, we will study palmistry, not as relates to lifelines, but as related to love" said Professor Trelawney, which for some reason had over half the class staring at their hands.

"Page one hundred and thirteen in your textbook" she called out. "Begin, make a diagram of your partners hand, concentrating on the loveline and then mark it up."

Ron even bothered opening the book. Harry was filled with the confidence that he knew what was coming. He was after all, already in love with Daphne Greengrass.

The class was nearly over and Harry had drawn out Ron's love-line. Which was a bit thick, and Harry tried not to snort at that, and changed over time into a perfectly normal loveline; much like the one in the textbook. Ron was quietly pleased that he was destined for… love. Harry was bit disturbed by how pleased Ron looked at that, considering Divination was all bunk anyway.

Ron had been staring at Harry's hand for ages, and had made a few marks on the parchment, but hadn't drawn out his love-line. Harry could see it fairly clearly… it did take while to get going. And crossed one of the creases of his lifeline, which wasn't in the book.

A shadow fell over the page Ron was working on. Harry looked up and the bottle-glasses of Professor Trelawney looked down on him.

"You, Weasley, where is Potters loveline?" asked Professor Telaweny.

"It's a bit fiddly Professor" said Ron uncertainly.

Harry' hand was pulled up, forcing Harry to his feet and the Professor shoved her bottletop glassed-face practically onto Harry' hand, struggling, Harry thought, to see anything at all.

"Such a terrible life" said Professor Trelawney in a melodramatic tone. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, Ron needed to complete this stupid chart.

"You can't find the start of his loveline because his loveline is so broken. No love… poor child… and Augh!" Professor Trealeyny dropped Harry's hand as if it was on fire. "His loveline is blocked by his lifeline… and his lifeline ends tragically soon!" she said quite loudly and dramatically.

Resentment filled Harry. The old bat has just taken a round-about way of prophesying Harry's death, and lack of love, which was proof she was barking; Harry knew he loved Daphne Greengrass.

Harry wondered angrily if Professor Trelawney could prophesy a bullet to the head in her sleep.

"Mister Potter" said the Professor loudly "You must stay after class… I have terrible things to tell you."

"Death comes for you, Mister Potter, you will die ….by your own hand!. I'm afraid I must report this to the Headmistress." said Professor Trelawney.

"There's only one person near death round here, Professor, and it's not me." said Harry certainly.

"One other… matter" said the Professor awkwardly, rummaging in her amulets, she got one locket out, and opened it; taking out a small scroll. "A Prophecy that … sadly applied to you, Harry Potter"

She read it out uncertainly as if she'd never seen it before "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

Professor Trelawney looked oddly confused, and put the tiny scroll away "Now, has anyone told you about this Prophecy before?" she asked.

"Erm, no" said Harry, trying not to give cheek.

"Well, it's an official prophecy. My first actually, and well, until you got your scar, it could apply to you or Neville Longbottom. Now of course, it applies to just you." she explained.

"The bit there here it says and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives." asked Harry "I've already defeated him, right?"

"I'm sorry, Mister Potter, I can't remember the prophecy." she replied. "Seers cannot remember their own prophecies."

"But you just read it" said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"And I cannot remember it. Which is why I keep a copy close to me." she explained. "If either must die at the hand of the other, well… you will have to… be the one to kill he-who-shall-not-be-named."

"Bit pointless, he just comes back every time" said Harry. Professor Trelawany stared at Harry; probably; with those glasses it was hard to be sure.

"You must defeat him" she said "He will kill all the muggleborns, and isn't that dreadful Granger girl your friend?"

Harry left the divination tower very crossly. Voldemort was a bloody pebble. He wasn't doing anything. Hogwarts was getting really close to having some staff turnover, courtesy of Harry's Glock.

Being summoned to the Deputy Headmistresses' office that night after dinner was even more irritating.

Harry went in and sat on the indicated tartan covered, hard backed chair.

"I have a report" drawled Professor McGonagall "From Professor Trelawney that your palmistry class today went very badly. She has once again predicted your death, this time at your own hand. Tell me, Harry, do you feel at all suicidal?" The look on Professor McGonagall's face was inscrutable.

"Don't make me laugh" said Harry sourly "She's always predicting my death."

Professor McGonagall nodded "It's just that one of the school rules is that if a teacher thinks a student is suicidal the Deputy Headmistress must investigate." Professor McGonagall signed a piece of parchment. "And I've done that. Have a biscuit, Potter."

Harry ate a pretty good shortbread biscuit.

"Now, about that marriage contract. I hear that you and Miss Daphne Greengrass are trapped in it?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Harry nodded "It's very awkward, but it'll work out in the end." he said.

"And how do you know that, Mister Potter? A talent for divination?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Well, I'm in love with her" said Harry simply "So it'll work out."
Professor McGonagall stared at Harry and blinked very slowly. "In love with her?" she asked.

Harry nodded "She's the most beautiful woman alive, so I'm pretty lucky really."

Professor McGonagall blinked again and cast a charm that made Harry glow pink.

"You're probably not… potioned. Does the contract… bend the mind?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"No, I'm just in love with her. She's so pretty" said Harry simply. Honestly it was pretty simple really.

"And… Miss Greengrass?" asked Professor McGonagall in a croaky tone.

"Oh she'll come around I'm sure" said Harry brightly.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Mister Potter… if you have feelings for Miss Greengrass and she does not, that is not love but infatuation. Love is the mutual feeling."

Harry furrowed his brow "What?" he asked.

"I'll try to explain, using small words so a teenage boy can understand" said Professor McGonagall, "It's not love if she doesn't feel it too."

Harry nodded "Sure" he said.

"Mister Potter, hard as it might be for you to believe, when I was younger I was married to a wizard I loved very much. I know about love, whereas you don't." said Professor McGonagall.

On that fateful Valentines day Harry burnt the herbs from his pillow sachet in a small brazier, inhaled the smoke and stared into the crystal ball. As Harry expected, he saw the face of Daphne Greengass. Looking a bit older, and smiling. It was like a tiny wizarding photo inside the crystal ball, but on each small repetition of the smile it got fainter till the face was gone. Harry sat back in triumph. It worked.

Harry kept that knowledge private. Apart from smiling a lot.

Homework was to get some hair from whomever they want to check their love compatibility with.

The next divination class was the magical love compatibility test that even Professor Trelawney doesn't think is reliable.

Harry had a single strand of Daphne's hair, and Ron for some reason seemed to have brought a piece of brown wool. Harry tries not to think about Ron and sheep. He is from Devon though….

The process, because it didn't seem like a spell, or a potion, the brown wool Ron had, washed with milk went really crinkly, then Ron had to dry it off, then burning it with some of Ron's hair, holding a saucer over the flames to catch the soot.

Everyone else had started doing this bit, and the room stank of burning hair.

Harry realised that Professor Trelaweys room could smell worse than incense and sherry.

Ron turned his saucer over and stared at the pattern of soot. Harry bit his lip. There, in the soot was a pattern like a cartoon explosion.

"Mister Weasley?" asked Professor Trelawney, coming over in a rattle of necklaces "That came out very well. Explosive. Not a good omen, but certainly a very well performed divination.

Ron dropped the saucer, looking shocked. Harry was shocked too, Ron was terrible at divination.

The saucer broke, in the pattern on the soot.

"A very strong omen of fire and ultimate disaster for Mister Weasley." said Professor Trelawney "Don't be too alarmed. It only shows some possible outcome. And the technique is quite untrustworthy" said Professor Trelawney bitterly.

Harry carefully plucked a hair, washed both hairs, as that seemed like a good idea, and put a little soot on his upturned saucer by burning the hairs.

Ron was sitting, turning pages in the textbook, so Harry had to turn the saucer over on his own.

There was a big splotch of soot, as if Harry had just held it over a small candle. And a black double-barred H that seemed awfully precise for soot just sticking to a saucer. Like, lines drawn in ink precise really.

Harry set his sooty saucer down wrong side up and looked in his divination textbook.

Professor Trelawney was touring the classroom, and caught sight of Harry's saucer.

"Oh gather 'round class, Mister Potter has done something very interesting" she said loudly.

Harry groaned. Being picked out in divination class again, hardly what he wanted.

"Now, see the thick Rune Halgaz. This is a sign of a dark force interfering with Mister Potter's love-life." said Professor Trelawney. Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten.

"Mister Potter, you are the subject of curs`ed marriage contract, are you not?" asked Professor Trelawney, pronouncing curs`ed with a grave accent.

"Yes." said Harry. "I am. I'd think everyone knows."

"The Halgaz shows great difficulty, slowly melting to a flow like a river. A dire omen in a love compatibility. Under the Halgaz, a simple cloud, unformed, just in indifferently fair match." said
Professor Trelawney "I would remind you class that this method is untrustworthy at best."

Harry's divination homework proved difficult. Just explain the saucer result, no big deal.

Harry poured over the textbook, found nothing specific, and had to resort to using a library book on the specific technique. Harry found the space on the bookshelf where the library book should be, and it was missing.

Ron was sitting at a nearby table taking notes from a textbook. Harry sat down.

"Ron, are you feeling all right?" asked Harry cautiously, wand in his hand.

"It's just the soot, I wanted to understand it" said Ron, looking oddly intent on a book.

"Um… can I have it next." asked Harry "I want to know about runes appearing, you know from the cursed contract."

Harry had coincidentally brought his book-bag, and ended up getting his Transfiguration assignment done while Ron read and took notes. Dinner was nearly upon them when Harry got the book, and started skimming.

The very last ten pages of the book talked about the interaction of curses and the ritual, and the last paragraph of the last page said "The underlying soot marking should be considered only in the larger context of the rune or runes appearing."

Which was clear as mud to Harry, who hadn't done runes.

But Hermione had. So that night, Harry asked Hermione to explain about Halgaz.

"Well it's often used in hail curses." said Hermione. "A few runes and there's a hail trap. Or, on a stake, pushed into a field to ruin crops. It used to be very popular to do that, apparently. Though, it turns into an irrigation charm in time, and could result in the field being more productive."

"Is Ancient Runes class all about curses?" asked Harry, thinking he'd missed something rather cool by not taking Ancient Runes.

"Oh, mostly about just reading texts written in runes. The magical applications are a secondary thing, until seventh year." said Hermione cheerfully "I just thought you'd like a practical example. You seem to do better with… more practical applications."

Harry puzzled over terrible hail, ending in a flowing river over… a merely fair match. Did that mean in the end Harry and Daphne would be unhappy or happy?

March 22nd came and Daphne turned sixteen, so they now had to kiss. Daphne was given the jewelled necklace by Hedwig, who landed on the Slytherin table, stood very upright and bobbed. Harry wondered what had gotten into his owl. Daphne's friends, and just about everyone in the great hall saw the massive necklace of gems and gold, and Daphne looking from Harry's vantage point, very-tight lipped put it on. It disappeared into her robes.

Harry met her in a carefully chosen (by Daphne) disused classroom and mentioned that he saw her in his love divination.

Daphne angrily retorted "I saw a tall dark and handsome man. And you're short."

Harry would have been crushed by that, but he got to kiss Daphne… and as per their agreement, she put her tongue in his mouth. It was weird really, thought Harry, but the vaguely ill feeling he'd had faded.

"Um" said Harry eloquently "About the quidditch?" he asked.

"It's not sleeting any more" said Daphne "We could start I suppose."

"Tomorrow night immediately after dinner" suggested Harry "Just an hour or so to get familiarised with basic broom skills."

The next night, Harry, armed with a broom, some practice gear and his quidditch skills, faced a wall of impassive Slytherin witches with brooms.

He got on his broom "Now, everyone, we're going to start with some basic skills refreshers" said Harry.

Fourteen witches narrowed their eyes at him. The effect was disturbing.

"Just a quick zoom around the goal at one end, fast as you can and back to the other goal, around that and back here" said Harry.

Then forming two lines and tossing the two quaffles back and forth, then doing it again on broomsticks. Predictably many witches drifted out of position.

And Harry started learning names.

"Pansy, who's that next to you?" asked Harry, wanting to know the name of the smaller witch next to her.

"Esme" said Pansy, who could at least fly a broom halfway decently.

"Esme, why are you out of the line? It makes it harder for your opposite number to throw you the quaffle?" asked Harry.

"I don't like flying." Esme said bitterly.

"This is a quidditch development squad, why are you here?" asked Harry.

"Because Pansy said she'd hit me" said Esme.

Harry flew over "Flying is fun, and I find it very mentally relaxing. Just you, the broom and the air."

"I don't want to fall" said Esme anxiously.

"I've fallen from hundreds of feet, Madam Pomfrey can fix it." said Harry "Try concentrating on your movement downwards, and stop it. You can slow down without a wand or a broom… just fly up a bit, maybe ten feet, and get off the broom and fall. The grass is soft, and you're a witch."

"I could be hurt" said Esme, looking very displeased.

"I'll show you how high I fell from" said Harry, and shot up to several hundred feet and waved, then got off his broom, and fell, getting back on and flying out of his fall at thirty feet. Like a Wronski feint only slower, really.

"That was stupid" said Pansy "You could have messed up and been badly injured."

"If you're not playing seeker, you'll never fly that high. Forty feet tops, typically twenty, so a ten-foot fall is an easy start. Don't bother trying to get back on the broom. It's only ten feet." said Harry.

Esme got off her broom in mid-air, and fell to the ground, time seeming to slow, her fall ending in a soft thud as she landed on her feet.

"My magic… I can slow down" said Esme. Harry tried to look unsurprised by this.

Ten minutes later, all the Slytherin witches were falling like black daisy's, landing in their feet in a flurry of black robes, then Daphne landed remarkably slowly on one foot, arms outstretched for balance. "This is actually fun" she said.

The quidditch session degenerated into witches falling from greater and greater heights, fluttering black figures, landing in a flurry of robes, all eventually affecting one-foot landings, arms out.

"Why doesn't Madam Hooch teach this first" asked Esme.

"Um..." said Harry, who had no idea you could slow your fall with magic, without a wand, without an incantation or broom. Suddenly, Harry remembered teleporting onto the roof of the school.

"You have to know your own magic, it's like doing accidental magic on purpose. I apparated as a child once." admitted Harry "Which, I think is a foul in quidditch, and you can't apparate at Hogwarts. It's in Hogwarts, a History."

"You… you apparated?" asked Daphne pointedly "Not just falling slowly?"

"Never tried" admitted Harry "I just fall, then get up."

"You" said Daphne snootily "Have no style. Who taught you the move?"

"Um… nobody?" asked Harry.

Esme had just fluttered down from a hundred feet up at least, and she squeaked "What!" she went pale "I could have died!"

"You just fluttered down from a hundred feet up. From personal experience, you won't fall any faster from higher up. You don't ever need a broom to get down safely."

"Well, come on Potter, show us how you do it?" asked Pansy.

"I don't know how" said Harry.

"Oh some on" said one of pair of younger twins "We can all do it, Harry Potter should be able to."

"Potter Black" said Harry trying to change the topic.

Harry was bullied into falling twenty feet, and hit the ground hard.

"It's like they say" said Millicent Bulstrode, who had taken to falling slowly like a … duck to water "Witches float."

"I um… need more practice" admitted Harry.

"The lesson's over" said Daphne loudly. "The coach needs to learn how to do proper magic."

Harry was at quidditch practice when he tried again, to fall slower, to be arm-locked by Oliver Wood. "Potter, no showboating. You can learn advanced techniques when you turn Pro. Free-falling is hardly useful in quidditch, and takes ages to learn."

Harry nodded, sure that fourteen indifferent flyers had learnt it in an evening.

The weekend came and Harry finally had a feeling for falling ten feet slowly. It required a concentration on not concentrating, and willing his magic to billow out that was utterly unlike anything he'd ever done before. And fourteen Slytherin witches had got the knack much faster than Harry. His landings were still hard, and he had to fall to one knee, and brace himself with his hands.

He mused, that falling too much in the past playing quidditch, had probably been bad training for free-falling.

The development squad had, apparently done another evening of quaffle drills. Ron was incensed.

"A Slytherin girls team? The last thing we need is two Slytherin teams to play."

"You're right" agreed Harry. "Flint's team with Malfoy are arses. Hopefully by sixth year, I can get the girls squad to play without it being one endless foul."

Harry went over to the second pitch, where the girls team, and they needed a name, were flying quaffle drills. Ron came along.

"You're back" said Pansy "Get rid of Weasley, he's stinking the place out."

Ron rolled his eyes. "They're a bit rubbish" he opined.

"They only started training on Thursday" said Harry.

As one, the girls flew up to about a hundred feet, stepped off their broom and fell, fluttering, to the ground, landing mostly at the same time, all on one foot. Some a little wobbly.

"Bloody Hell" said Ron "The Bolivian team do that, but… flying without a broom. Who taught them that?"

"It's just falling safely" said Harry. "Everyone's a lot more confident on a broom now that they can fall safely."

"Harry" asked Ron "How the hell do you do that?"

"Its complicated, but not" explained Harry. "Magic."

Ron looked at Harry like he'd grown horns or something "Are you utterly mental, just don't fall off." said Ron.

"Your problem, Weasley" said Pansy "Is you have no style. Now sod off, our coach is going to teach us a new drill."

On Sunday, the squad, who'd decided they were The Slytherin Sirens, were practising passing quaffles while flying in formation, when an adult blonde witch came to watch, in fancy robes. Harry wondered if it was Daphne's mother and shot down to see.

It was Narcissa Malfoy, in robes more expensive than Harry ever usually saw, except when there were Malfoy's about, and she was staring.

"A Slytherin girls team, but what are you doing here?" asked Narcissa Malfoy.

"I'm their coach, Aunt Narcissa. You could help find two seekers in the team. Aunt Andromeda tells me you were very good." said Harry.

Narcissa Malfoy looked happy and bitter at the same time "That is neither here nor there. A seeker, like you should be small, for maximum speed on the broom, and have good perception, to see the snitch wherever it is."

Harry nodded "I was thinking of throwing training snitches, seeing who did best?"

"Pick the smallest girl who won't get too big by the first game, and train her till she cries. It's how my sisters did it." said Narcissa. Harry had the sudden horrible realisation that Bellatrix LeStrange, the notoriously evil witch had probably been the captain. And made Oliver Wood look like Mother Teresa. Harry was fairly sure Oliver wasn't going to be a wanted dark wizard.

Daphne and the other girls fluttered down to stand around a surprised Narcissa Malfoy.

"Who" she hissed "Taught you that."

"Potter" said Pansy. "Esme was a nervous flyer. Now, well, we don't care about heights any more."

Narcissa Malfoy looked at Harry Potter, and Harry had the vague idea that her frozen features were… worried.

"Who are the two smallest, who'll be small next year." asked Harry "We need two seekers, and anyone who is small with two tall parents is likely to grow too much."

Pansy and one of the small third years were pushed out of the group.

Harry looked at Pansy, she wasn't very big, he supposed. The third year stared defiantly at Harry.

"Okay. Mrs Malfoy was the last team Seeker, she's got the skills and know-how, but obviously can't be here at Hogwarts." said Harry, accidentally staring at Daphne's glasses.

"Heiress Greengrass, why are you wearing gold-framed glasses" asked Narcissa Malfoy.

"I uh… need them" answered Daphne quietly.

"For heavens sake, cover the gold with crayon or soot. It's a wonder a seeker like Potter can see anything." said Narcissa Malfoy, taking a handful of training snitches out of her robe pocket "These are the official Slytherin Women's team training snitches. I heard you girls were playing. Millicent, your mother sends her regards."

"He stares at Daphne all the time anyway." said Millicent "He's obsessed with her."

Harry wanted to disagree. But not outnumbered fifteen to one.

"Miss Parkinson, Miss?" asked Narcissa.

"Rouse" said the small witch.

"Not Sacred twenty-eight?" asked Narcissa. The small witch looked at the ground.

"You're small, and not going to beanpole up next year" interrupted Harry "Someone with a good summoning and banishing charm, pair up with the seekers, and throw or banish the snitches. The seeker needs to fly at least a quarter of the pitch per attempt."

"How many times?" asked Pansy.

"Until you're crying in pain" said Narcissa Malfoy, like that was just normal. "The honour of the Slytherin women's team is at stake."

"We're the Slytherin Sirens" offered one of the twins. "The Gryffindors have the flying foxes as chasers."

Narcissa Malfoy seemed to ignore that naming. "So, take turns drilling the seekers, while the rest of you… practice quaffle plays, I suppose."

"And beaters." said Harry "Millicent, find three more girls with strong arms."

Millicent looked indignant. Harry was learning Slytherin witch expressions.

"Oh come on Millicent, you're a natural, and float down like a leaf." said Harry. "You'd need a much faster broom to exploit your strength as a chaser."

Millicent rounded up three of the bigger girls, and Narcissa interrupted "The three biggest, Millicent. You can't teach reach."

While the beaters sorted themselves, Narcissa Malfoy walked to one side and crooked a finger to Harry.

Harry walked over.

"Are you the heir of Slytherin?" she asked unexpectedly.

"I'm not the heir of Slytherin" said Harry "Just a parselmouth. Your husband left one of the heirs books with Ginervra Weasley, and it could have quite easily killed your son. I've taken care of it, and the Heir. My best friend, Alistair Moody is looking forward to when I join the Aurors. Cousin Nymphadora already is one." Harry smiled, a crooked, slightly crazed smile, fantasising about shooting Mr Malfoy and Draco. And lying about still being a parselmouth, but Mrs Malfoy was Mrs Malfoy, after all.

Narcissa Malfoy looked momentarily confused "Why would you be an Auror, it's dirty dangerous work, and Sirius has made you heir."

"Because it's all about putting dark wizards in Azkaban" said Harry, with a small smile.

"Foolish boy, you'll have the Black family business to attend to, and Heiress Greengrass can't be expected to do all the work, you lazy boy." said Narcissa sharply, and Harry reflexively flicked his wand out, and held it in one white-knuckled hand.

"You probably should go see cousin Draco. Maybe give him some tips." said Harry. "He seems to take after his father on and off the quidditch pitch."

Later on Sunday, after dinner, Harry had a scheduled session with Daphne in the Library.

She limped in and sat, wincing "I've got so many strained muscles" she complained.

"Hot bath in the prefects' bathroom" suggested Harry "Password was pine fresh last year, I'll need to look it up." With that, Harry referred to the Marauders map. It was sea-breeze this year.

"It's sea-breeze this year" whispered Harry to Daphne. He had thought momentarily about trying to remember the password when told it, but this way was easier. And he got to show off the map.

"You've got a list of passwords?" asked Daphne.

"Yes, all of them" said Harry. "It's very handy."

"What if someone's there" asked Daphne.

Harry referred to the still active map. "Nope, empty" said Harry.

Harry was dragged off by Daphne.

"What the hell is that map?" she asked. Harry explained, quite proud of Sirius and his father and Remus.

Daphne Greengrass stared at Harry "That is utterly incredible. No wonder he is so good at teaching defence. Professor Lupin must be a genius." she said.

"He um… really helped me." admitted Harry, then feeling defensive "You need to pick your grades up a bit too."

"I'm wearing the glasses. Just stop complaining." said Daphne grumpily. "You're not tall dark and handsome."

Daphne would live to eat those words. By sixth year, Harry was quite tall, and looked down on her, for their mandatory fortnightly kissing sessions.

Harry rubbed his back afterwards "I'm getting a bad back, having to lean down to kiss you" he said teasingly.

"Piss off Potter" said Daphne crossly.

However, Harry was currently shorter and Daphne was complaining about soreness. He led Daphne to the prefects' bathroom, opened it completely legitimately and went over and started the bath filling.

"Well, go away. I'm going to soak." said Daphne.

"Can't. School rules, prefects bathroom used by prefects only." said Harry.

"I'm not putting on a show for you Harry Potter!" said Daphne angrily.

"Leave your underwear on and use drying charms. I'll turn my back while you get changed, and I can work on an assignment while you soak." said Harry.

Daphne reluctantly agreed, and Harry ended taking notes for an assignment while Daphne lay in the immense bathtub, covered in bubbles.

"Potter!" she called out, an arm outstretched "A flannel and hand towel. I want to wipe my face off, and then dry off my face. Harry looked over, and she didn't seem to have bra-straps.

Over on her pile of robe was stuff that looked surprisingly like underwear. Harry resisted the urge to investigate, and gave Daphne a flannel and towel. There was a big sponge-roll thing on a trolley of bath stuff.

"Want a huge spongeroll thing?" asked Harry, showing Daphne.

"Oh, a loofah. Great." said Daphne "Drop it off for me."

Harry dropped it into the bath, and it unfortunately didn't make a gap to see Daphne through.

"Now go work on your assignment" said Daphne "I'm scrubbing my own back"

"I'll scrub your back for you" offered Harry "With that loofa thing."

And … Harry got to scrub her back. She stood up, hands over her chest, waist deep in foam and Harry scrubbed her back with the loofah thing. Her back went a bit pinker than yellow. "Mmmm you do good work" said Daphne contentedly. Harry could just see the hint of her bum in the foamy water. He was dying of trouser induced tension. There seemed to be no knickers on that bum at all.

"Bugger off Potter" said Daphne "Get back over there while I get back it this great bath. If Hogwarts had fifty of these… oh it's be such bliss."

"So you want a huge magical bubble-bath. Noted" said Harry. "Going on the list."

With that Harry went back to his assignment. Daphne descended into the foam and suddenly with splash, disappeared completely, her head emerging from the foam, and she wiped her head off with the flannel. Her hair was familiarly wet now.

Harry wondered if there was any way to wank while Daphne bathed. Nothing occurred to him but waiting till later.

Harry's brain got back around to thinking about sex with Daphne, and he remembered her marathon session by the stream. Bother, He really needed to get to the library and look in the restricted section.

"Um" said Harry "I've got to go to the library and look things up. Once I've gone out, lock the door from the inside right?"

"I can reach my wand, I'm not an idiot, Potter" said Daphne from the bubbles.

Harry dashed off, incredibly grateful school uniform was so concealing.

A quick nip into a bathroom on the third floor near the library to put on his invisibility cloak, and he was finally off to find an important book. Well, and quick wank.

The restricted section seemed less immense than Harry remembered from first year. He was a lot taller, he mused.

A book on sex, how to last longer. That's what he wanted.

He looked at the spine of the nearest book. A book on Murderous Marigolds, a primer. More Neville's thing than his, he thought.

Time passed. Lots of time, so many books and, none of them the right book.

Harry finally as the lights were going out, took note of where he'd got to, and resolved to somehow fit it in later.

Weeks passed. Weeks Harry had no time for, with Classes, quidditch practice, coaching the Slytherin girls, assignments, study and assignment sessions in the library with Daphne, another trip to let her into the prefect's bathroom for Daphne the day after Quidditch practice, and mandatory fortnightly kissing and jokes sessions. Something had to give, and Harry found he simply had no time for hanging out in the Gryffindor common room with Ron or Hermione. Hermione happily sat in the library and did assignments, which got brought up at the next kissing meeting with Daphne.

"Potter" said Daphne "Are you intending to have Granger as a bit on the side? Because I'm not going to accept that sort of public humiliation. I already do quidditch practice, that's all the humiliation I need."

Harry winced. Hermione just liked to study with him because she was his friend. Harry explained.

"She's my friend. Has been ever since we saved her from the troll." he explained.

Daphne shook her head "Stupid Gryffindors doing stupid things" she said.

"So she's my smart stupid Gryffindor friend, and frankly I'm never in the common room these days." admitted Harry "I'm spending all my spare time either coaching the girls team, or on assignments."

"You are nowhere for large parts of every week" said Daphne "Not in the library and not perfecting, I asked the Head girl."

"I'm" admitted Harry looking at the floor "I'm trying to learn new magic. Not taught at school."

Daphne Greengrass gasped. "You're learning to be an animagus, like Sirius Black and McGonagall. You… deceitful, conniving worm."

Harry didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought of learning it, but really it did sound kind-of cool, come to think of it. And Sirius was an expert at it. And his dad had done it.

Harry looked up at a pissed-off looking Daphne Greengrass, took a deep breath and tried to explain. Well, not what he'd really been doing in detail.

"I'm um… trying to learn how to be a better husband" said Harry, blushing slightly "I'm scouring the Restricted section for useful spells, but there's no real order to it, I just have to check every likely looking book."

Daphne rolled her eyes and simply requested he owl Sirius post-haste and get the Animagus thing started.

After a month of holding a stupid mandrake leaf in his mouth, a storm came, and Harry and Daphne did the stupid spell to find out what their Animagus forms would be.

Daphne woke up and said proudly "I saw a green adder. I'm the most Slytherin Slytherin ever born!"

Harry on the other hand had seen a cockroach. "My animal is rubbish, I'm not doing any more" said Harry. Stupid animagus transformation, he thought.

"What?" asked Daphne "You're giving up?"

"Definitely. I've got loads of other magic to learn anyway." said Harry.