Through all the tumult of the celebration, Harry could feel the ground rumbling as Hagrid lumbered over to them, parting the crowd. Harry held his broom tight in his hand and braced himself suspecting that Hagrid was going to grab him and so wasn't entirely surprised when Hagrid picked him up and tossed him into the air.

"Yeh can still fly a swift as a thestral! I knew it! An' play Quidditch jus' like you always did! A sight better if I do say so! McGonagall was cryin' into her firewhiskey—sayin' that you'd never fly again. But I told her, nothin' gonna keep yeh from playin' Quidditch! I told her!" Hagrid wept.

"Hagrid, it's okay! You can put me down," Harry called from where he dangled in the air, holding his broom up and hoping that he wasn't accidentally whacking Hagrid with it.

"Er, right. There yeh go," Hagrid said, setting him down as gently as he could on the ground—his huge hand settling on Harry's shoulder like a sack of flour.

"An' the rest of you—what a sight! I never thought I'd see a Jiāorén on a broom jus' as regal as an Aethonan. An' look at Godric, here, eh?—'bout as good as Harry on a broom. An' that's sayin' summat. And Petro, too—now blind as well as deaf—but blocking goals like an Erumpent who done caught the scent of his mate. An' I don't know who this little miss is, but she's got a spark, that's fer sure. An' Neville, up on a broom with no broken bones! Folks can say what they like, but yeh otta be able ter play. Charmin' the balls with bells—Crikey! Everyone can hear 'em (unless they can't hear 'em, right Petro?)—it's not givin' yeh an unfair advantage. Shoot! Jus' let you lot play, eh? That's all I am gonna say." The last bit was muffled as Hagrid blew his nose ferociously into his handkerchief.

Harry patted Hagrid on his back—his grin nearly stretching from ear to ear. Harry could hear Neville muttering as he tried to remember signs in his attempt to fill Gemma in and through her, Peter in, on what Hagrid was saying. Ivan was trying to help him—clearly more versed in BSL than Neville.

Godric was speaking to Hagrid in a low voice and it sounded like they were walking away from the group. Harry did catch a piece of what Godric was asking… "What do you mean 'an unfair advantage?' Who has been claiming that making Quidditch accessible…"

"Seriously? How on earth did you manage that?" Tahmina exclaimed. "You're not really blind, are you?"

Mei made a disparaging noise and Harry heard Tony speaking in even tones quietly to them. He thought of the water bracelets on Mei's arms that were perhaps at that moment preventing an outburst of unintended magic.

Harry stilled and turned his face in the direction of Tahmina's voice. He felt some of his elation ebb.

"Tahmina. Seriously. That's not cool," Arig's voice was sharp.

"But Arig… blimey—that was some of the best flying I've seen in a long time and I've been to a lot of tryouts. How can he do that? How does he not crash? How can he catch a snitch that he can't see?"

"I know. I was trying to tell you," Arig said.

"I'm right here!" Harry said as evenly as he could, though he couldn't help but stomp his foot. "If you want, I can show you. And I'll even do it blindfolded."

Harry popped his staff from his broom, summoned his Gryffindor tie out of it,and slipped his glasses into the storage opening. He tied the blindfold over his eyes—a little clumsily as he was still holding the snitch and had his broom in the crook of his elbow— and—feeling a little melodramatic—he hopped on his broom and rose into the air nearly vertically from where he was standing.

It felt good to fly away from the doubt and disbelief. He was feeling rankled by the thought that someone might be petitioning against the residents of the Center… putting up barriers when they had been working so hard to get over the ones that had been thrown in their path already. He gritted his teeth as he rose into the air, the ends of the tie flapping behind him like little banners.

He released the snitch and listened to the chiming as it moved away from him and then he started following it as it zoomed around in a lyrical pattern of dips and swoops. He heard the wind moving through the twigs of another broom as it neared him and felt the vibrations of a form moving toward him, but the bell charm had been ended on it, so he didn't know who it was. He hoped that they had the good sense to stay out of his way since it was a lot harder to track them without their bells on. He realized that he had also ended the bells on his broom, which meant that Godric wouldn't be able to track him, so he cast it again.

"Why'd you put on your bells?" Tahmina asked a few paces behind him.

Harry turned his head so that his words would fly her direction (literally because of the papers—but also so she could hear them) as he explained that he did it for Godric.

"He's not even up here," Tahmina said, clearly confused.

"He might want to know what's going on," Harry replied, not really understanding why he was so irritated.

"Someone down there can tell him," Tahmina said, coming up beside him on her broom.

"Sure, but it's kind of exhausting to always have to ask people. Being able to figure it out on your own is better. It would really help me if you put your bells on."

"Right," she said through gritted teeth. "But they are bloody annoying."

Harry realized that he had lost track of the snitch. He cursed under his breath. He urged his broom up a bit and listened, but couldn't pick out the chiming over his own bells. He was tempted to quiet them for a bit to listen more carefully, but couldn't when he had made such a point of putting them on just moments before.

Tahmina's bells started ringing and it made it even harder to hear the snitch. Before, he'd only had to hear the sound over his own bells because Terry had been keeping a fair distance from him. This was harder. It reminded him of how Malfoy had tracked him closely and his gut clenched… the Slytherin team… they were going to pitch the biggest fit if he was allowed to play with bell charms on everything… He could guess who had already started clamoring against it…

It had to be Snape. Who else would know?

He gritted his teeth in exasperation, the muscles in his neck drawing up his shoulders as he realized the answer…

Everyone. Everyone who takes the Daily Prophet. Everyone knows.

But how is it that people were already talking about Harry flying and wanting to play Quidditch? Had Professor McGonagall talked to the Hogwarts staff? Was it a recent conversation that just came up because of the article? Or something that they'd been discussing since he had been injured at the end of May?

A distant chiming intruded on his brooding. He cocked his ear and leaned close to his broom handle, racing toward the sound. Another bell sound had joined them in the air. He was pretty sure it was Terry… if he was using the same tone as before that was a brother to Harry's bells… maybe wanting a bit of a rematch? Harry could feel Terry drawing closer to the snitch, though he was not as high up in the air as Harry.

As he flew through the air, some of the worries about being prevented from playing by people who either were being overly protective of him or simply because they'd do anything to win were peeled away by the cool evening air. He could worry about that later. Right now he had something to prove.

Terry's bells and vibrating form grew closer. As he neared the snitch and Terry, Harry flipped so that he was hanging upside down, wrapping his feet and legs around the broom handle so that he was flush with it stretching out his hand until he could feel the small cyclones of wind generated by the snitch's lightening-fast wings and trying to match the zig-zagging pattern of the snitch as the chimes indicated its path. His knees grazed along something, he guessed it was Terry's legs dangling from his broom. The vibrations gave him a sense of Terry, though he seemed bigger than before—a solid mass. Then the wings were brushing against his fingertips and he waited until it bounced against his palm before closing his fingers over the fluttering ball.

He sped forward, still upside down until he was certain he was clear of Terry and righted himself. But then the vibrations made it seem as though Terry got longer—and he was confused. He could hear Tahmina's bells below him and was surprised when she screamed "Watch out!" just as he felt a sickening crunch as his broom handle slammed into something solid.

The one hand he had on the broom was wrenched from his grasp as his body kept moving forward even though the broom had stopped. He felt a shield erupt around him—and bounce off something and disappear. The oomph that resulted was deep and then he was tumbling through the air—falling toward the earth at an alarming rate.

He tried to shout, but he was falling so quickly that the words were torn from his mouth. He had no idea how close he was to the ground now that he didn't have the broom's vibrations telegraphing his location and he put all his effort into visualizing his broom in his hands and supporting his weight. He released the snitch as he held his hands out to receive his broom. It snapped into place beneath him, smacking him in the face at the same time that it snapped into his hands.

Harry spiraled around for a moment while he got his legs wrapped around the broom and figured out which way was up by the vibrations and then started flying up again and slowing down. He was a lot closer to the earth than he'd even imagined. Trembling all over, he directed the broom toward the pitch and the group of friends that he could hear shouting (Hagrid's booming voice drowning out all the others). He listened for Terry and Tahmina's bells and any sign of the person he hit but couldn't hear them and dread pooled in his belly. All the vibrations indicated that everyone was on the ground.

He started shouting at his friends as he neared, "Are they okay? Who was up there? Did that person fall? What happened?"

He hopped off his broom and crumpled in a pile on the pitch, his legs were like noodles. He dug his fingers into the cool grass and tried to calm himself as their footsteps thundered toward him. Hagrid's made the earth shake.

Harry shouted out his questions again, fear tearing at his throat, "What happened to Tahmina and Terry? Are they okay?"

"Harry, you was amazin'- summonin' yer broom like that and hoppin' back on quick as a blue Cornish pixie!" Hagrid said as he wrung out his handkerchief and warm liquid splashed on Harry's arms and face.

Arig's crutches clanked nearby as he hopped down next to Harry on the pitch.

"Harry, are you alright?" Arig asked as he gasped for air and putting his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Yes, yes—but what about your sister, Terry? The person I hit? Who was it? Are they hurt?"

"We're right here, mate," Terry said and Tahmina's quieter voice echoed his. They all crowded around him, cutting off the breeze and enclosing him in a circle. Gemma's hand was on his arm, Peter's on his back—they were both signing their worry and relief that he was okay.

"Graham flew up, but didn't put his bells on. That's who you hit," Tony said—his voice grim. "He's okay—the git—thanks to Terry and Tahmina. They tried to catch you, too, but…"

Harry slumped in relief, yanking the Gryffindor tie off his eyes, "I didn't know he was in front of me. I didn't hear him."

He cocked his head, listening, "Is he here?"

"Naw. First Mei laid into him then Godric hauled him off to heal his cuts and give him a talking to and, I think, to protect him from Mei."

"But he didn't fall?" he asked.

"No, he didn't fall. Terry got to him first—but was struggling to get him back on his broom—he was out of it. I helped Terry fly him down and then we saw that you were falling," Tahmina said, her voice thick.

"How did you summon your broom, Harry?" Tony asked. "None of us heard you."

"I did it nonverbally—I was falling too fast."

"Wicked mate. Blimey. I thought you were dead. I nearly pissed myself."

"I did," said Neville quietly at Harry's elbow. "Thankfully Godric knows how to vanish it."

"Where's Mei now?" Harry asked.

"Ivan is with her," Terry said.

"Them," Harry, Tony, and Arig corrected.

"Once Graham landed, they were having a hard time not ripping Graham's head off… so Godric told Ivan to take them to the Lake… they needed more water," Tony explained.

"They?" Terry asked.

Gemma walked toward Terry and Harry hoped that she was filling him in on Mei's pronouns.

"I'll jus' go an' see if they be needin' any help. Maybe introduce Mei to the merpeople," Hagrid said as he lumbered off. "I'll let them know that yer all right, an' all."

Merpeople?

"Gemma and I are going with Hagrid, all right?" Terry called out.

"Harry, I'm really sorry I ever doubted you. You really are an amazing flyer… and what you did to get back on your broom. Well, I've never seen anything like it. When you've graduated from Hogwarts and I'm playing on a league… I'll make sure that the scouts know about you. And if what Hagrid is saying about folks here trying to bar you from the team… well, just make sure that the bell spells can't be removed from the brooms by the players. They could use that against you… but it wouldn't be fair. You have just as much right play as anyone."

Harry lifted his face in Tahmina's direction and gave her a small smile… it was all he could manage. He doubted that, after this, anyone would let him near the Quidditch pitch. He wasn't so sure that he should be allowed.

"So was Graham flying right next to Terry? I thought I was misreading the vibrations in my broom—especially since there were only Terry's bells."

"Yeah—he was ghosting right along next to me. I didn't think about you not being able to tell he was there. Then he shot forward when you got the snitch. Where is it by the way?"

"Oh, I dropped it when I caught my broom."

"I'll go get it," Arig said as he hopped up and then swooshed away. A little way up, the sound of his bells echoed across the pitch making a bit of warmth spread across Harry's chest. Harry turned his ear to follow the sound.

Someone else had knelt down on the grass near him. A searching hand found his shoulder and Harry understood that the person was Peter. Peter followed Harry's arm down to his hands and Harry held his hands over Peter's so he could read his signs. Peter wanted to know what had happened and Harry did his best to tell him with his limited knowledge of sign language. It had all happened so quickly and he imagined that no one had time to fill Peter in.

He felt his neck grow hot as he realized from the heavy silence that Tony, Neville, Tahmina were just watching him sign with Peter. They seemed to notice what they were doing and started milling around and then wandered off, he imagined, to watch Arig catch the snitch instead—except for Neville who joined them on the soft grass of the pitch

"Harry, what are you and Peter talking about? Can you say it out loud? I want to learn."

"Sure. I can try. I'm still getting the hang of this. Here, put your hand on Peter's wrist, so he knows you're here and wanting to learn," Harry instructed. "He'll put his hands over yours. You know how to make your name sign, right? Do you know how to sign that you want to learn?"

"Yeah, Gemma taught me. I'll try," Neville said and made a small noise that brought with it a memory of Neville's tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth while trying to transform his match into a needle. After a moment Peter caught up Harry's hands again.

"Why was Graham flying with you?" Peter asked, fingerspelling Graham's name onto Harry's hands.

Harry shrugged in response and was surprised by the growl that Peter made when Harry signed, "Slytherin Quidditch."

Harry's shoulder's sagged as he thought about the implications. Maybe Graham had acted out of spite or retribution or something connected to the Slytherin team. Harry ran his palm over grass beside him, trying to find his broom until his fingers grazed against the twigs.

Harry finally felt like his legs might support him and decided to try to stand. Peter helped steady him when he stumbled.

"Where are you going, Harry?" Neville asked while Harry was getting his staff out of his broom and putting the broom away.

"I thought I'd go see if Mei is okay. Are they still at the lake?" Harry shook out his staff.

"I can't tell. I can see Hagrid's head, though—yeah, I think he's by the lake."

"Peter, do you want to go down to the lake?" Harry asked, speaking the question aloud as he signed under Peter's cupped hands.

"Sure, let's visit the big _."

"The big what?" Harry asked.

Peter fingerspelled "S-Q-U-I-D" and then made the sign again—which was a ticklish sign with lots of waggling fingers. Harry laughed.

Peter shook out his staff and the three of them started walking across the pitch.

"Hey, where are you going?" Tony called from across the pitch and then started jogging toward them, his footsteps thudding in the thick turf. "Can I come with you?"

"We're going to see if Mei's okay," Harry explained. "Did Arig catch the snitch?"

"Naw. Tahmina's helping him find it," Tony said as his pace slowed to match theirs.

They walked in silence except for their feet padding through the grass and their staves tapping dully to the edge of the pitch and then along it to the path that led to the lake. The path to the lake wasn't as wide nor as even as the path that led from the Quidditch pitch to the castle. Harry's silver tip rang against the rocks on the path and reminded him a bit of his first hike at the Center on the path down to the lake at Mont Blanc, though the terrain wasn't nearly as rock-strewn.

A breeze moved across Harry's face, lifting strands of his hair heavy with sweat away from his face and neck and brought the scent of the Forbidden Forest across the moors and mingled with the aroma of the heather and the murky lake in the cool evening air. Harry breathed it in deeply—he loved the smell of it.

He could hear the wind howling through the narrow spaces of the castle and the vibrations of his staff gave him a sense of its shape in otherwise open space. The Forest seemed to absorb sounds at the same time that it spat them out occasionally—the odd cry or distant flapping of wings. The owlery's faint hooting was easy to pick out in the aural landscape.

Harry wondered if Hedwig would return today with a message from Professor McGonagall. He turned his face toward the castle and thought about venturing inside to knock on her door, but then shook his head. He could wait for her response. He wasn't that desperate.

The path sloped down and Harry leaned back a bit and kept his knees bent. He'd had enough of falling.

He heard Neville stumble and tumble, but was too far back to even attempt trying to grab him, but he did reach forward and grasp Peter's shirt, hoping to prevent him from falling over Neville. Peter stopped immediately and Tony ran into the back of Harry.

"Oi!" Tony shouted.

"Neville fell," Harry explained. "Neville, are you okay?"

"Yep, I'm fine," Neville said from the path in front of the small group.

Peter had turned to Harry, "What's going on?"

"Neville fell," Harry signed into his hands. "I heard him."

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Tony was stomping through the heather on the side of the path, crunching small twigs under his feet, and making the heather's fragrance explode around them.

"Neville, you all right, mate?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Tony was vigorously brushing the dirt off of Neville's robes. They started walking toward the lake again, Tony leading this time.

"Hey! Come on o'er here!" Hagrid hollered, his voice bouncing off the castle's stone walls.

The air was cooler by the lake and in the shadow of the castle. The sun had set enough that Harry was comfortable with his eyes open.

The ground was softer by the lake, making squishing noises under their feet and smelled a bit boiled eggs.

Light footsteps ran across the wet landscape toward them and then Gemma was excitedly filling Harry and Peter in on what Mei was doing. Mei, after calming down had entered the lake to meet the _ at Hagrid's urging.

"What's _," Harry asked.

Gemma spelled out "M-E-R-P-E-O-P-L-E."

"Are they different than the Jiāorén?"

Gemma was emphatic in her "yes," making Harry wonder how different they were.

"Do they speak the same language?"

Gemma pulled Harry's hand to her shoulder and shrugged, making him laugh at the same time that he felt embarrassed for asking.

Stupid, she can't hear them speak.

Harry could hear Hagrid telling Neville and Tony in excited tones that Mei had disappeared into the lake a while ago and they were waiting to hear news of their meeting.

"It might not be the best time for Mei to be meeting new people… were they still mad?"

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of being civil," Mei barked from the lake.

Harry turned toward their voice and signed their name to Gemma and Peter so that they'd know that Mei was talking to them. Harry guessed that Mei was out too far for Gemma to be able to read the papers. He tried to convey what Mei had said to Gemma.

"Did you meet the merpeople, then?" Harry shouted across the lake.

"No need to shout… your voice carries over the water. And yes, I met some of them. Here—you want to meet them? They use sign language like Gemma and Peter… well, not exactly like… but it kind of looks like it. Tell Gemma—I don't think she can read my papers from here."

Harry told Gemma and she moved closer to the water and Harry heard her slopping around in the water at the edge of the lake.

There was a high pitch squealing noise and Harry threw his hands over his ears… it was too much for him.

"What was that?"

"The merpeople came to the surface—they were speaking with Hagrid," Neville explained.

"Gor. That's … oi. It's painful."

"Their sign language… well, it's different from what Gemma and Peter speak, but it looks like they are kinda figuring it out. It's cool," Neville said.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned toward the voice, not sure who it was.

"Mr. Potter, it's… Professor McGonagall. I was hoping to have a word with you."