The first week of February, Dumbledore fell sick again. All of the inhabitants of the castle walked around in hushed silence for three days until he came back to dinner one night, smiling yet oddly subdued. Professors McGonagall and Snape, both of whom had been on high alert during Dumbledore's illness and had had very short tempers, relaxed just the smallest amount. Harry fell back into the comforting schedule she had established at the beginning of September. The only difference was Hermione's helpful presence, even if she did spend most of her time trying to find out who Flamel was. As the days passed without success, she grew more and more frantic.
"I don't understand!" Hermione whispered across their usual library table to Harry the morning after Valentine's Day. "I can't find him anywhere! And I can't ask Madam Pince in case she tells Professor McGonagall or the Headmaster!" Harry, who barely had time to do homework now that the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff was only a week away, nodded and continued scribbling away about the Goblin Rebellion of 1312. It was only the two of them at their table, since Neville had finally been admitted into Greenhouse Three.
"Did you try the Recent History section?" Harry asked as she finished describing the tactic used to punch through the wizarding side of the war in the Battle of the Durnisia Mines.
"Yes!" Hermione whispered fervently. "I checked A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, Important Modern Magical Discoveries, Modern Magical History, and Notable Magical Names of Our Time. Not a single mention of Flamel!" Harry was amazed by Hermione's ability to remember long book titles, especially so many with such similar names.
"What about - " the bell rang, ending their free period.
"Oh no," Hermione moaned, gathering up a large stack of books on Transfiguration, which she had been using to help improve her wand-work before getting sidetracked by Flamel. "I've got to put all these back and we've got Herbology next!"
"Here," Harry said, quickly closing A History of Magic, and screwing the lid onto her ink bottle and putting both into her bag. "I'll help. It'll only take a minute." She took half of the books and shelved them, aware of Madam Pince's keen eye watching them from where the Transfiguration section met the Defense Section. Harry returned to their table faster than Hermione and busied herself rolling up her mostly-dry essay and cleaning her quill.
"Come on," Hermione said, grabbing Harry by the hand and pulling him out of the library and down the stairs. "We're going to be late!" True to Hermione's prediction, they were a few minutes late, but Professor Sprout forgave them when she saw how out of breath they were from running through the snow.
"Just try to be early next time, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," she warned them with a kindly smile before addressing the class as a whole. "Please put on your dragon-hide gloves, and take off anything you don't want to get dirty. We're fertilizing the goldenglories today! The dragon dung is over there, near the pots!" Predictably, Neville was the first one to get there, already smudged with dirt but smiling in a pleased manner.
The days before the second Gryffindor Quidditch match of the season were just as intense as the first. Harry found that it was even more so for her, as no one outside of Gryffindor had known she was playing Seeker in November. In the halls, Slytherins would hiss disparaging remarks at her, and a few went so far as to try and sabotage her, failing miserably due to the twin's almost constant presence at her side at Wood's behest.
Saturday February 22 dawned cloudy and grey, but with no snow or rain imminent. Harry was already up and waiting in the common room for the rest of her teammates to come down, Nimbus 2000 leaning against her chair as she read more of Transfiguration Lessons for the Newfound Prodigy. After nearly four months, Harry was only a third of the way through it, and still had trouble understanding what it said at times. With a sigh, she closed the book and watched as the sky lightened. She would need to go talk to Professor McGonagall soon to clear up some of her problems.
Not long after she'd set her book aside, the other six members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team traipsed down the stairs, each of them clutching their brooms, which Oliver had told them to secure in their rooms to prevent any tampering. Personally, Harry thought he was paranoid because the Gryffindor locker room was charmed so that only Gryffindors could get through. Although, she thought as she stood and grabbed her broom and book, Fred and George could probably find a way around the spells if they really wanted to.
"Breakfast!" Oliver said, grabbing Ryan's arm to prevent him from sinking into the nearest chair. "Toast and eggs for everyone. No bacon - it's too heavy. And no kippers either," he added with a short glare at the twins, who smiled innocently at him. Harry was sure they'd ask for Canadian bacon just to irritate him.
"I don't like eggs," Harry said to the group as a whole as they exited the common room.
"I said no bacon!" Oliver shouted back at her before realizing what she had said. "Oh, er. Have a sausage instead," he said, distracted by Aiden nearly dropping his broom.
"What!?" Fred protested. "I want a sausage too!"
"Ah ah ah," George said, waving his finger chidingly, "You actually like eggs, so you can't have any."
"Can too."
"Nope!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Cut it out!" a nearby portrait growled. "We're trying to sleep up here!"
Snickering, the Gryffindor Quidditch Team trekked the rest of the way down to the Great Hall and sat down for a 'light' breakfast of eggs, toast, and, only for the Seeker (as Oliver threatened multiple times) a single kipper.
By the time the rest of the school streamed into the Great Hall, decked out in red and gold or yellow and black, the Gryffindor Quidditch Team had finished eating.
"Let's go," Oliver said, prizing a fork from Zakir's fingers as he tried to get a sausage from the platter in front of him when he thought Oliver wasn't looking. Harry stood quickly, glad to escape. Her nerves had been mounting steadily for the past half-hour, not as great as they had been before her first match, but definitely there.
"Good luck, Harry!" she heard Hermione call out, and glanced back. She and Neville sat next to each other, waving encouragingly at her. Harry gave them a shaky smile and allowed the twins to bustle her out of the Great Hall and into the slush-covered grounds.
"Bit damp," Oliver said with a frown as they walked through a large mud-puddle. "Be sure to find a solid piece of ground to kick off on. And the sun shouldn't be coming out anytime soon, so we don't have to worry about that." Harry was a bit disappointed - sun would shine off the Snitch and make it easier to find. The rest of the walk to the changing room was marked only by Aiden cursing when he nearly slipped in a patch of icy mud, earning a reproachful, "Careful!" from Oliver.
Once in the locker room, they split up to go to their respective lockers. Harry, finally used to the sheer amount of male flesh exposed, didn't pay any mind as she stripped out of everything except her boxers and pulled on her Quidditch gear. The white trousers that clung to her lower legs but were loose around her thighs went on first, followed by the skin-tight white shirt they all wore under their jerseys and her light-weight Quidditch shoes. A pair of shin-guards were buckled on over the white pants. Her jersey, the one that used to be Sirius's, was pulled over her head. Like all the rest of the Gryffindor team jerseys, it was bright scarlet, with gold trim around the neck and hems of the three-quarter length sleeves that wouldn't get in the way of any passes. A gold lion's head was artfully drawn over the left breast, where a pocket would be on a Muggle suit. The top six inches of the jersey were split, with leather thongs that she made sure to tighten all the way to keep it from slipping over her head. The jersey was quite long, reaching to half-way down her thighs, with slits down the front and back to make sitting a broom easier. The waist had another leather thong, which tied on the right hip. Last, she jinxed her glasses to her ears, a handy spell that Oliver had shown her after her glasses had fallen off during their third practice, and pulled on the pair of black leather Seeker's gloves that Alex had sent her, along with a note saying that they were from their dad. Completely dressed, Harry shoved her regular clothes, along with Transfiguration Lessons for the Newfound Prodigy into her locker and waited for the others to get dressed.
As Seeker, she wore less padding than the rest of the players in order to stay light and speedy. Keepers traditionally wore the most, with Beaters only the absence of shoulder-pads and padded-gloves behind them. The Chasers had shin-guards, elbow-guards, and wrist-strengtheners, a light load when compared to the amount of padding Oliver had to wear.
Fred and George were the last to finish since they had argued over whose trousers were whose before Harry pointed out that it didn't really matter.
"Right, now that we're all dressed," Oliver started with a quick glare at the twins, "just a few last-minute pointers. We're playing Hufflepuff."
"Oh, really?" George asked. "I thought we were smashing Slytherin again."
Fred opened his mouth to add on to his brother's comment but Oliver's increasingly irritated glare put him off. "Like I said, Hufflepuff. They've got almost an entire team of new players. The Keeper's a sixth year I've never heard of before, so either they're desperate or he's good enough to displace Harker. Don't use the Viper play unless it's absolutely necessary," he warned Aiden, Zakir, and Ryan. "We might need that against Ravenclaw. And where-ever possible, let Zakir take the shot since he's got the best aim of the three of you." The three Chasers nodded seriously and Oliver turned on the twins.
"Yes, we know," George said before Oliver could get a syllable out.
"Target the chasers - "
"Unless the Seeker's doing something - "
"And never hit a Bludger at the Keeper unless the Quaffle's in the zone!" they finished together.
"Yes, exactly!" Oliver exclaimed, pounding one heavily-padded fist into his other hand.
"And Harry," Oliver said, facing the last member of the team, "Try not to swallow the Snitch this time." Harry blushed but grinned. At the match against Slytherin, Higgs had knocked her fist out of the way and the Snitch had literally flown into her mouth. Flint had been livid.
"Yes, Oliver," she said. "No Snitch-eating. Got it."
He looked over his team. "Aiden, tighten your jersey - it looks a bit loose. Fred, George," he snapped, "those pants are exactly the same so it doesn't fucking matter! Harry - " she quailed a bit under his gaze " - just catch the Snitch like you do in practice and we'll be fine."
"Of course we'll be fine," Fred said indignantly.
"We've got the best team at Hogwarts!" George finished, and Oliver finally seemed to relax.
"All right, all right," he said. "Let's go. We'll be called out any minute now." Each of them grabbed up their broomstick and followed Oliver out towards the pitch entrance door.
After a moment of silence, Fred whispered, "Hey, Harry, could you use ground beetle-eyes and honey as a substitute for flobberworm mucus?"
Harry was taken aback by the randomness question. "I - I suppose. But I'd really have to look it up and then I would suggest adding a pinch of dried nettles to - "
But the door was sliding up and it was time for the game to begin.
It had been three hours and Harry still hadn't seen the Snitch. Her opponent, a third year named Cedric Diggory, was likewise stumped and both of them had taken to circling the pitch in figure-eight patterns a hundred yards up. She could feel him watching her, but couldn't figure out why.
Two-hundred feet below them, the Chasers and Beaters were still at it, but Harry could see in the way Fred and George were swinging their clubs that they were starting to tire. That, and the Bludgers they hit weren't striking their target half as often as they had at the beginning of the game. From the announcer's booth, stationed beside Professor McGonagall, Lee Jordan was giving a play-by-play of the game. " - and that's Elverdeen with the Quaffle, passes to Fossoway who shoots and…It's another great save by the Gryffindor Keeper! O'Connor in possession, ducks a Bludger from Gravin, tosses to Henry and back to O'Connor. Nice play by Akram, and it's Gryffindor 210, Hufflepuff 180!"
Contrary to Wood's beliefs, the Hufflepuff team was no pushover. They had seen how the Gryffindor Team had played against Slytherin, and had trained accordingly. They were only lucky that they hadn't had to play yet - instead, Ravenclaw had faced Slytherin, which had ended in a tie-breaking penalty shot by one Samwell Quirke. Harry did a few loop-the-loops to let off some tension as, below, Hufflepuff Chaser Fossoway snuck one past Oliver.
As she hung upside down for a fraction of a second, movement down by the Hufflepuff hoops, where they met the slush-covered grass, caught her eye. Without pausing, she dove. Wind streaked through her hair, and behind her she could her Diggory's startled exclamation as he realized she had seen the Snitch. A well-aimed Bludger forced her to spin, but even so it grazed her knuckles as she rocketed downwards. Twenty yards from the Snitch, it seemed to realize that it had been spotted, and streaked off sideways, away from both Harry and Cedric, who, with his greater body mass, had been steadily creeping up on her as they dove.
Harry flattened herself to the handle of her Nimbus and pulled out of the dive, angling towards where she thought the Snitch was heading: the Professor's Tower, seats set aside specifically for any Professor's who might care to watch. Today, it was all of them except Dumbledore. Lee Jordan at least had the sense to duck as first Harry, and then Diggory, whooshed overhead. As she stretched out her hand to grab the madly fluttering Snitch, Harry heard Professor McGonagall's exclamation as her hat was knocked from her head by the upset airstreams. Harry's fingers closed around the Snitch, but she felt Diggory's rough fingertips scrabbling on the exposed skin of her wrist between her Seeker's gloves and her white shirt.
Moments later, the game was over, and Fred and George were setting off Filibuster Fireworks in the middle of the pitch while Professor McGonagall yelled at them from the stands, her recovered hat perched lopsidedly on her head. The rest of Harry's teammates were flying towards her, cheering. This second win put them first in the running for the Quidditch Cup. Harry was grinning so hard that she felt her face was going to split in half. She only half-noticed as Diggory called a "good game!" to her before flying off, a disappointed sort of grimace on his face, to meet up with the rest of his team. Her own team arrived seconds later.
"Great catch, Harry!" Aiden called as Zakir slugger her shoulder, nearly pushing her sideways off her broom. Oliver just smiled proudly, but Harry could already see plans of new plays ready to be born in his eyes and had to stifle a half-groan, half-laugh. She had found someone even more obsessed with Quidditch than she was.
"Oi!" It was Seamus, yelling at them from the stands. Unbeknownst to the delirious Quidditch team, they had drifted over to the Gryffindor stands. "Lee says party in an hour!" Harry waved her hand - Snitch still clutched tightly in her fist - at her roommate to let him know that she had heard, before leaving the three Chasers laughing at Oliver, who had been grabbed by the front his jersey by his girlfriend, Alicia Spinnet, a fourth-year with dark brown hair and friendly hazel eyes, and was being thoroughly snogged while still hovering on his broom, although a little wobbly as his attention wandered.
The party lasted well past dinner, which only a few students (namely Percy Weasley) had gone to, the rest preferring to stay in the boisterously loud common room even if, like Hermione, they were doing homework instead of playing card games, eating the plethora of candies and sweets the twins had somehow smuggled in, or, in the case of fifth-years and older, drinking spiked punch. Harry had suffered through an hour and a half of girls (mainly Lavender, Parvati, and Sophie) giggling and running their hands through her hair. Fred and George had sent several smirks her direction, and even had the gall to snap a photo of her, which Lavender and Parvati immediately left to beg a copy of. Not long after, Sophie left and Harry was able to join Hermione in a quieter corner of the common room.
"How can you read in all this noise?" Harry asked loudly. As if to underline her point, Fred or George, as Harry couldn't be sure from this distance, set of another round of Filibuster Fireworks and catcalled loudly when a surprised Oliver and Alicia fell out of their chair.
"I just concentrate," Hermione replied in a normal voice, so Harry had to lip-read. She wrinkled her nose when Harry came closer.
"Sorry," Harry said with a grimace. "Oliver wouldn't let us change. Something about boosting the mood or something." Glancing at the title of Hermione's book - Charming Your Way Through House-Work - Harry asked, "What's that book for?" It didn't seem like a normal Hermione book.
"Etiquette and House-Hold Management," Hermione said dully. She finally looked up from her book. "You know, what girls take instead of flying."
"Oh." Harry was very glad to have escaped that fate. Hermione's book looked absolutely dreadful.
Hermione gave a loud sigh. "I think I'll go up to my room," she said. "I'm getting a headache." She stood and left, picking a path through a group of older girls - probably sixth years, Harry thought - playing Levitate-The-Ball, where they would try and catch a glass ball with the Levitation Charm when someone tossed it to them. If they missed, they would have to kiss the person who had tossed it last. With Hermione gone, Harry scanned the room.
Fred and George, as well as Lee, were in the center of a knot of first through third years, who were watching them juggle empty inkwells. Without magic. Even their younger brother Ron looked mildly impressed, even more so when Lee kept on tossing more items in for the twins to juggle. Oliver and Alicia had vanished, likely to an abandoned classroom, and a fair few of the seventh-years, identified by the large bags under their eyes as the N.E.W.T.'s came closer and closer, were just starting to abandon the party, study materials in arm. A second search of the room turned back the same results: Neville wasn't there.
Harry moved across the room towards Seamus, who had somehow acquired a cup of the spiked punch, and asked, "Have you seen Neville?"
"He'sh on tha sheiling," he slurred, and Harry grimaced. Her roommate had obviously had more than one cup of punch, and would likely be feeling it in the morning.
"Thanks," she said, and climbed the stairs to her room, ducking the inkwell one of the twins sent her way. It shattered against the wall, narrowly missing the tapestry of a knight praying in the woods, who made a rude gesture at the twins. The dorm was empty, so Harry could only assume that Neville had, once again, disappeared to Greenhouse Three. He was trying to work his way into Greenhouses Four and Five, which were generally reserved only for N.E.W.T. students. Greenhouse Six was Professor Sprout's personal greenhouse, and was smaller than all the rest.
With a sigh, Harry grabbed a change of clothes from her trunk and headed towards the showers, intent on not smelling like a boy for any longer than she had to.
Feb. 3
Dear Harry,
I am most relieved to hear from you, and especially to know that you have forgiven me.
I'm glad to hear of your successes in Transfiguration and Potions. You may not know, but
Lily was the top of our class at brewing; even better, I believe, than a fellow student called
Severus Snape. Professor Slughorn certainly liked her better! It seems that you have
inherited skills from both your parents, since James was one of the best in our class at
Transfiguration. Your brother, unfortunately, did not get that particular talent, but did get
Lily's flair for Charms and James's innate ease in the air.
Of course I will meet you, wherever you like, but I must ask you to at least tell your father
who you are meeting. I will not go behind James's back; I owe him that much at least.
I am glad that you are enjoying school. I must admit, I'd never heard of Asclepius Academy
before and had to go look it up in the London Public Library. Their selection of Magical books is
quite good, but not nearly as complete as the Hogwarts Library, I am sad to report.
As for why I never told you that I am Alex's godfather? Technically, I am not. I was never
sworn in. It was only written down on parchment, and the ceremony was never completed.
From the Ministry standpoint, I am merely the man who took care of you for the first years of
your life; a nurse-maid, if you would. Lily and James were most stubborn that I accept the
position, even though I didn't want to at first. Ministry laws forbid people with my condition from
having guardianship of children not of their blood. In spirit, and most definitely in love, I am both
your and Alex's godfather; after everything, it would be impossible not to be. Although legally
Sirius is your godfather - sworn in and everything - you are as good as to me. I didn't tell you
because, at the time, I felt it would only confuse you and Alex to tell you what my role in your
life truly was. I had planned on telling you on your seventh birthday, but by then it wasn't possible.
Enjoy the snow while it lasts! Spring is coming early this year. I can smell it in the air.
Love,
Remus
P.S. Hearing from you is gift enough.
Feb. 12
Dear Remus,
I finally have time to reply to your letter. The headmaster was sick with a cold again, and the teachers were
all really tense. Thankfully, he's back to full health so there's quite a bit less stress in the air. As for spring coming
early? Maybe in Britain. It's as cold as ever here in Andorra. Here, snow comes early and leaves late. But that just
makes your gift all the more practical, so I don't' mind. If I must, I will tell Dad who we're going to meet, but he
won't like it and will most likely try to stop us. Oh - I've got to go or risk being late for Charms. Thanks for the
letter!
Love,
Harry
Feb. 12
Dear Harry,
I know that I'm late with the gift, but I was caught up in work and without you and Alex here, I find
that days blur together. As always, never take it off, even to bathe. Good luck in classes.
Love,
Your Father
Feb. 13
Dear Alex,
Has it been long enough yet? And too bad if it hasn't - you can just say your brother is an over-sentimental twit
for all I care. Can you believe Dad was late with the gifts this year? It's hard to believe he could ever forget such
an important ritual. Even worse, is that I haven't worn mine since you cut my hair - after all, boys don't wear
barrettes. Luckily, he sent a pendant this year. It's a rune. I looked it up in the library and it's the Gaelic rune
meaning 'strength' combined with the Gaelic rune for 'protection'. I wonder where it takes me to. Remember how
we wanted to try them out but Remus stopped us just before? I don't think he ever told Dad, which is probably a
good thing. I've switched the chain. It was silver, but I stowed it in my box of old gifts and found a leather thong
instead. I think it's more boyish than a silver chain.
In any case, I just wanted to update you on happenings at Hogwarts. Dumbledore caught a cold again and was in
the Hospital Wing for three days. I almost slipped up in my letter to Remus, but didn't write his name, so Remus
thinks that Headmaster de Calderon was sick for a few days. I didn't tell him anything else, just that it's still
snowing at Asclepius. I hope it actually is, since I really have no idea what the weather's like there, except from
what you said about its being cold all the time. Got to go - Oliver is calling for practice!
Love,
Harry
Feb. 16
Harry -
I told my friends that you're overly-sentimental. They think I'm lying since I also told them about you and
your flying stunts, and they remember what I told them about the troll. I've also been writing Remus, but
probably not as much as you. He knows the names of your Quidditch teammates, and your friends Neville
and Hermione. I've kept mum about the twins, though, and most likely will since they're not even our
age. And it is still snowing here. I can't give out too many details, but we're at high enough altitude that
the snow isn't expected to melt until April!
Dad sent me the yearly gift - a ring, this time, but gold instead of silver like your necklace. It's in the shape
of a lion, which has got all my friends confused since they think he should have sent me an ouroboros or a
dragon. He also sent a pair of Seeker's gloves, which I've passed on to you.
-Alex
P.S. I finally beat Rémi at chess!