The Prince-Who-Lived

Chapter Thirty-nine

As it turned out, James hadn't said another word to Harry during that visit, and he left without dealing with his son's 'questionable' friends. Fortunately, his presence did ease Neville's mind a lot, making Harry agreeable to putting up with it. His parents had easily reassured him of the same things Harry had: It was not his fault, in any way.

It would make for an interesting encounter if any of them got their hands on Bellatrix, though.

Neville's attitude was a lot better when they came back out of the chamber, but conversely he'd become almost silent. He waved Harry off as he returned with his parents to McGonagall's office, and Harry smiled and told him he'd be in the library. Neville nodded a little too quickly and left, and Harry walked idly back up towards the tower. He wasn't sure how much longer his transfiguration would last, and he wanted to get some real clothes on. Walking through the common room, however, became a smidgeon of a challenge when Lavender bearded him immediately.

"Well, satisfied to have your boyfriend back?" She sneered. The entire common room fell silent to listen: Neville had become rather hot news. Harry smiled thinly back at Lavender and promised himself his revenge would be his and Neville's alone, although he might bring in Alan. Just for help with any potions.

"He's not my boyfriend, Lavender; he's just a friend. Just because you can't hang out with someone without bedding them isn't my problem. Excuse me." Harry brushed past her, and she gasped and grabbed his arm, spinning him to face her again. In that time, Harry saw that his friends were listening just as hard as the rest of them.

"Don't you dare judge me, Potter! If you think he's worth anything, you're wrong. He's nothing but a whore, and not a very good one." She scathed.

Harry was still smiling; it was unnerving her terribly. She must have been smarter than he gave her credit for. "Just because you're not a good enough lay to keep a guy's interest isn't his fault. And he won't be bothering you again, Lavender, so back off. I have better things to do."

Harry forcibly pulled out of her grasp and turned to stalk back up the stairs to his dorm, delving into his trunk to change. He pulled out his bag, grabbed a few books to read, shut his own and then went to open Neville's trunk. There was a failsafe in each of their trunks that their parents had put in, so Harry knew he could get in if he had to, although it would be obvious that it had been done. Surprisingly, however, Harry knew the locking spell Neville had used and opened it easily. His trunk was a mess, tumbled everywhere without care, but Harry found a set of clothes to put in his bag. Finished, he turned to address Ron and Hermione, who had been waiting patiently since halfway through his search. When he turned, Hermione spoke first.

"If you could get into his trunk, why didn't you do so earlier?"

Harry sighed. "First, he doesn't usually use such a simple spell to lock his trunk; he was out of it this morning. Second, it's very rude. Third, I already know he doesn't keep a journal or a diary, so I wouldn't have found the reason there anyways. He wouldn't have written it down."

"But you've figured it out?" Hermione's voice broke.

Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah. But Hermione, it's his to tell."

"But he doesn't just hate us?" She was starting to cry again. Harry fidgeted awkwardly. Crying women were blackmail, and it didn't matter how old they were. It was worse when it was someone your age, though. Frank and James had had to deal when Alice and Lily teared up, but now it was Hermione and Ron was terrible about that sort of thing, leaving Harry responsible.

Harry sat awkwardly beside her and sighed. "No, he doesn't hate you Hermione. He was just scared. He was over-reacting. He doesn't hate you at all. He – he just needs to get over this first." Harry wondered how badly Neville had felt that he had pushed Hermione away, had broken her gift. This didn't make any sense, and a part of him wished desperately to go to the library and find Alan. Alan either made things make sense, or made it feel like it was all right that he didn't understand if Alan didn't either.

Hermione's crying faded slightly, and she huffed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I should go find Hannah and Susan. I'm probably making you hideously uncomfortable."

That's about the sum of it, Harry thought, but you didn't say that to a girl in tears. "It's alright. I'm heading to the library myself."

Hermione looked at him sidelong. "To see the Slytherins again?" She asked carefully.

Harry flinched, but then forced himself to relax. She was only curious. No more faking it. "Yeah, I've been friends with Prince since second year." There. Said. Hermione and Ron were now gaping at him.

"You two picked fights nearly monthly third year!" Ron gaped.

Harry shrugged. "It was fun. See you."

Ron and Hermione stared after him as he breezed out of the dorm, and down through the common room. Silence spread around him, but he walked too quickly for any of them to catch his attention, and was out the door.

The library, true to about noon, was only mildly crowded, and Harry's stomach grumbled quietly about the lack of food. He found the table easily, and Alan wasn't there. It was actually Stephanie and her girls, and Harry faltered, ready to leave, when Stephanie called out.

"Hey, Potter! Prince is sitting elsewhere. He wanted to talk to you about some word that'd filtered through the grapevine since morning. You know where, he said."

Harry turned and smiled. "Thank you, Rothschild." He called; he only knew her by name, but Alan had told him Stephanie hung out with the Head Girl and several others, so it must be her who spoke. The laughter behind him didn't help, but it was done and he wanted to catch Alan.

Harry could only smile when he found Alan sitting at the table in the dark corner, alone and obviously irritated. He looked up, annoyed, when Harry came up, but his face cleared and he smiled thinly upon recognizing him, waving silently at the seat across from himself. Harry sat comfortably, but Alan immediately shut his book and fixed him with a firm look and a bald tone.

"Harry, word travels fast. I got worried when it made the rounds: Neville slept with Lavender, woke up and beat her, and then you hauled him through the Common Room not ten minutes later and weren't seen for hours. I have it on good authority each of those happened, so I won't discount it, but I'm thinking it's one Hell of a story."

Harry sighed and ran his hand over his face. Alan's dry tone meant he wasn't leaving without an answer. "Alan, most of that's Neville's to tell. But I found out why he was so antagonistic and it makes sense. He was being overly defensive, over-compensating. I'm sure he'll tell you once he's back here, but I won't tell his story unless he asks it of me."

Alan tilted his head to the side, and then sighed. "At least tell me if you know the first parts to be true so I can try and fix it."

Harry winced. "Can't fix it when it's true. He slept with her, I woke them and then he threw her out and slapped her once when she kept calling him a whore, chasing her out of the dorm."

Alan swore under his breath, and Harry leaned back and sighed. It was simply silence for several long minutes, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Harry felt surprisingly calm for what he'd found out, but he guessed that it was just that there was a clear enemy, something tangible to wrap his mind around to understand the events even only in a twisted sense … Harry sighed calmly and turned back to Alan. "Where are the others?" Alan rarely was allowed to go somewhere alone anymore.

"They're around. Blaise had detention again, Daphne, Tracey and Theodore had an assignment to check out in the Greenhouses, and I think Lucille and Salvador decided to check out a broom closet or two. They're welcome to it. Stephanie's girls are keeping a watch on the perimeter."

Harry frowned. "Would they keep out Neville if he tried to come find me?"

Alan frowned in turn. "Possibly. I'd go check, but then they'll just look farther – Ah, no. Neville's apparently fine at evading them. I should have a word with her about that." Alan unfolded easily from his chair, nodded at Harry and walked away. Harry nodded as he went, and turned and walked over to Neville. He felt his breath catch as Neville gave him a tormented look.

"Neville … is everything alright?"

Neville gave a bitter little laugh, and then shook his head. "No, it's … as fine as it gets. Just … I'm not sure I can face anybody I knew."

Harry blinked for a moment, and then caught on. "Oh. You … er, that's going to be a tough one, Neville."

Neville leaned against the bookshelf and nodded solemnly.

Harry paused and tried to think. This was looking complicated. "Neville … I think everyone would just be happy to see you acting normal again, honestly. Or – or you know, as normal as we get. Hanging out with your old friends. You don't have to be perfect, and it's not going to be the same, but we know that, Neville. You've kinda forced it down our throats." Neville flinched, and Harry reached over and grabbed his shoulder. "Neville, please. Just try. Everyone knows something is wrong, and you don't have to talk. Just … accept it and move on. Come back. Please."

"I can't face it, Harry."

Harry frowned, and grabbed Neville's arm again. He blinked to find the bandage still there; he hadn't realized Neville hadn't gotten his mother to heal it. Quickly, Harry pulled his sleeve up and looked at it: blood was already seeping through. Harry struggled not to growl.

"Neville," he began. Looking up, Neville clearly didn't own up to it, and Harry just sighed. "Fine. Fine." Harry let go of his wrist and stalked back to the table. Alan had returned, and looked at him oddly. Harry didn't react, just grabbed his bag and spoke when he was halfway back to where Neville stood. "I'm taking Neville to the hospital wing for a moment. Feel free to tag along."

Neville immediately blanched. "Harry, I don't need to –"

"You had the option to ask your mother to heal your wrist, Neville, but it's bled through the bandage now. If you won't take care of yourself, I'll do it for you. We're going. End of story. Now you can either walk, or be dragged. Pick one."

Neville shut his mouth, paused for a moment and then sighed. He followed Harry sullenly, but flinched minutely away from Alan when Alan jogged to catch up with them. Alan eyed him for a moment and glanced between Harry and Neville before speaking up. Harry led easily, simply listening without watching.

"So … can I ask what happened to your wrist?"

Neville didn't answer.

"Will I get more of an answer if I ask what happened period?"

Silence again.

"What was you mother doing at Hogwarts?"

"Harry insisted." His tone was sullen.

"Why?"

"Because I obviously can't take care of myself, that's what."

"You've done a smashing job for the last month." Alan drawled, and then sighed. "Neville. I just want to understand. I don't want to be angry with you; something big clearly happened. I'm just wondering what could have preceded such a dramatic change."

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Neville shot.

Alan fell dead silent, and after a moment Harry glanced back. Alan was staring straight ahead with a deathly blank face, his eyes half-closed. He was thinking hard; Harry suspected Neville wouldn't have to say much else for Alan to understand how bad the trauma had been, albeit without precise context. The rest of the walk was silent, but Neville was giving Alan considering looks most of the way, and he no longer seemed so scared.

However, Madam Pomfrey wasn't nearly so easily quelled. Harry hadn't considered that she would become overwhelming when she saw that Neville had tried to kill himself. She immediately went into a deep lecture that Harry struggled to knock her out of. Finally, he yelled at her to go talk to Professor McGonagall; Harry knew the Longbottoms had decided to explain what had happened to her, to alleviate Neville's detentions. Neville had silently bowed to his parents' decision without fighting it. When Madam Pomfrey came back out, she insisted upon doing a full scan. Thankfully, it found little other than the bandage, just a few light bruises and a faint bite mark, all of which were easily attributed to the activities of the night before. The month since had erased all the traces. There wasn't much more to be determined before Pomfrey easily healed the cut and the rest, and then let him go with an admonition to be careful and keep out of trouble. Her eyes were sad, but Neville was grateful to leave, after making use of the privacy screens to change.

Alan quietly asked if either of them were hungry. Neville predictably wasn't, but Harry certainly was. Alan eyed them both for a moment, and then lead the way down to the kitchens.

They managed to hide fairly well for the rest of the day. Alan and Harry traversed most of the castle, Neville tagging silently along, watching Harry interact openly and easily with Alan in the halls. His expression was tight; clearly, he regretted everything he'd missed. Finally, however, it was supper or at least the earliest vestiges of it, and Neville spoke up for the first time.

"Harry, we should eat. I … I need to work on trying to get at least some of my homework done. I haven't got any of it done yet."

Harry smiled back at him and nodded. "Sure. You want to eat in the Great Hall?"

Neville shrugged. "I'll have to sometime. Might as well get it over with."

Alan grinned. "It's a weekend and regular day. You want to eat at the Slytherin table?"

Neville blanched; Harry couldn't think why for a moment, and then remembered: Draco. Alan's face darkened at the same time as Harry's, and Alan easily reassured him.

"If Draco puts his face near my group he'll eat his wand, Neville. Come sit with us." It wasn't so much an invitation as an order. Neville subsided and followed meekly.

Alan was quite correct, however. Draco came in with a saunter, saw Neville and Harry eating with Alan, Blaise, Salvador and Lucille and immediately pouted. He said not one word within the hearing of the group, sitting almost ridiculously far away. Neville ignored the stares with the ease he'd used for the last few months, but his hands twitched slightly and his face was too blank, a deep line marring his forehead in stress. Blaise sighed.

"Neville, do you want to go running sometime? We could probably find some free time during Easter break to get out after curfew, all of us."

Neville raised his eyebrow. Lucille and Salvador had heard all of the exchange, but only glanced over and then turned back to their conversation without giving it a second thought. Blaise smiled superiorly.

"Slytherins keep each other's secrets. Would you like to? You're really stressed."

Neville sighed, and then nodded silently. He paused after a moment and whispered, "I'm sorry, Blaise."

Blaise waved it off. "I was pressing you when you didn't want to talk. You fought back. It's fine, just don't do it again now that it's dealt with." He paused and lowered his voice. "What was wrong, Neville?"

Neville glanced fearfully around, but he was seated between Blaise and Harry, across from Alan and Lucille. Three seats away from Alan, it was Theodore, and beside Blaise was Salvador. No one was within three seats of the couple. No one outside of Alan's hands would overhear. Harry held his breath, waiting, hoping … he needed to accept it; it wasn't going to change just because he didn't like it. He needed to share the burden.

"I was being foolish, flying outside of the wards. Bellatrix hexed me out of the sky. I got a concussion falling, and she –" He faltered and coloured, unable to look at them. "She tortured me. Didn't leave a mark, but she did. I couldn't – she had me quiescent, under the Imperius." He awkwardly shrugged. "I was ashamed. I felt … used. I couldn't face the people I knew, so I changed and cut myself off. The Patils are such airheads they wouldn't ask questions, wouldn't notice. I was overcompensating. I shouldn't have."

Blaise shook his head and gently rested his hand on Neville's shoulder. "Shit, no wonder you were fucked up." Neville tensed at the phrase, and Blaise took his hand away, and sighed. "Just … don't cut yourself off again, okay?" His face said there was more he couldn't say, and Neville just nodded silently. Lucille and Salvador's conversation had become stilted; they'd overheard. Neville didn't look at anyone, simply burying his head in his arms on the table. Alan looked across at Harry, and Harry sighed before purposefully asking,

"Do you want to help me get Lavender to shut her filthy mouth?"

Blaise's eyes gleamed. "Is she being a bitch about the one-night-stand?"

"Yes."

Blaise's grin was feral. "Would you leave it to me?"

"You can't have all of it, Blaise!" Alan growled.

"Alan?" Lucille asked delicately. "May I annihilate any reputation she wants to maintain? You can still attack her, but I want my share."

Alan merely nodded, and she happily returned to talking with Salvador. Neville had turned his head to watch her in mild surprise, and after that he sat up and added his own opinion. Homework was put off for a few more minutes as they planned.

Getting up from the table, Neville was surprisingly in a relatively better mood. Harry gave him a curious smile as he walked next to him for the first time that day, rather than a few steps behind, and Neville gave a sad smile back, but his eyes were dancing beneath the curtain of sadness.

"I never thought Slytherins would make such good friends. I think it will be entertaining the next few weeks and I won't have to do anything but catch up on my homework."

Harry smirked, and gently punched Neville's shoulder – he was too tall for Harry to put his arm around his shoulders, which he would have preferred. "Yeah, well I'm already tired of Lavender's talking and I've only crossed the common room twice." Neville blanched. "It's alright, Neville. If you bring the Twins in, they'll keep her out of your hair. They need to test a few products again anyways."

Neville's face grew pensive, and Harry fell silent, letting him think and squashing his own unease. He wondered how much better the fun little roller coaster was going to get over the next few weeks: it was better than it had been, but it seemed Neville was still having a few ups and downs that worried Harry. Maybe he was being oversensitive.

"I think I should tell them: the twins, Ron, and Hermione. Melanie …" Neville shook his head. "God, I am such a mess."

"Well at least you weren't the one to make it. Everyone was trying to tell me you were just 'growing up'. It was the biggest load of hogwash I'd heard since Sirius tried to pass off the mess in the kitchen when he attempted to cook as an experimental potion."

Neville gave a choked little laugh, but fell silent as they came to the portrait hole. Harry touched his arm again, "Lavender's still at supper, far as I know, along with Parvati and Sophie. Unfortunately, I think the twins and them all are there too."

Neville nodded. "I'll just get started on my homework then." He gave Harry a wry smile. "Aren't you a bit behind as well?"

Harry coloured. "Uh, yeah. Whoops." He laughed as Neville shook his head slowly, and walked companionably to get the books and parchment, bringing them back down to the chairs before the fire. Slowly, however, the camaraderie faded as Neville became increasingly frustrated as he looked through the books frantically, reading far more often than he was writing. All Harry had left to do was polish his essay for Astronomy, and clean up his Transfiguration essay – his writing for that one had been atrocious, but he'd been staring at Neville lip-locked with Parvati at the time. It was better than Hermione's, which had developed a large ink stain when she'd growled for almost a full minute.

Either way, Harry was waiting as Neville struggled through his Arithmancy text, and the common room slowly filled. Most people stared for a short moment, and then hurried off or found a seat in the corner distractedly beginning to talk amongst themselves. Harry held onto the hope that the twins, Ron, or Hermione would come up first; Hell, even Lee Jordan would be decent. He just wanted a buffer before Lavender came in.

He almost got his wish. Hermione and Lavender came in almost side-by-side, sparing each other venomous looks, Ginny's wand tracking Lavender's back almost outside her notice. It seemed to be keeping her silent at least, as Ginny had the backup of Melanie and Nanna, and Harry thought he glimpsed Dillan outside the door. Of course, once the portrait hole shut, Lavender scanned the room and smiled thinly at Neville, sitting bent over his parchment. Her expression didn't even fade at Harry sitting nearby.

"Neville! Why, it's smashing to see you. Have you been avoiding me all day, I-"

Harry's wand lined up with her face stopped her in her tracks, Harry standing deceptively loosely in her way. Her voice had sent a tremor down Neville's back, and he'd stiffened, stopping in mid-stroke on his writing. Harry wasn't putting up with this.

"Lavender. Lovely to see you dressed. Surely you can look elsewhere for satisfaction. I've heard you've run the gamut from seventh through fourth year, and all four houses, so leave Neville the Hell alone."

Her expression wanted to argue, but Ginny spoke up. "Hey Lavender, there's been talk you'll do the girls too. Didn't Draco turn you down in December? Wonder what stopped him."

Harry hadn't thought she could sound so scathing. She'd scared the Hell out of her brothers, though, who had just come through the door. The common room was staring at the array, apparently flustered at the shift in attitude. Everyone was suddenly defending Neville, and he wasn't fighting his re-absorption. He hadn't even looked up.

Finally, Lavender gave, huffing with colour bright in her cheeks, and turning back to join a betrayed looking Parvati. Ginny watched Harry curiously, and then came to gently sit on the floor between Harry's chair and Neville's, watching the brown-haired boy curiously. Slowly, the rest of their group - Hermione and Ron, the twins, and a reluctant Melanie and Nanna – found places around them, pulling up chairs and crouching on the floor. Neville stiffened in place, but Harry knew he couldn't make this any easier. Finally, as they settled, the twins both cast an area privacy charm. Neville quietly flipped a page in his book, seemingly ignoring his audience but Harry thought he was checking the charm. Finally, he sighed and, without looking up, quietly admitted everything.

"I'm sorry I made such a mess since break ended, and I'm sorry I pulled away. I was scared, and ashamed. The broom accident wasn't an accident. I was outside the wards and someone hexed my broom. I got the concussion falling, but … but I – I was … I was hurt. By Bellatrix Lestrange. She – She tortured me, took … took advantage of me, I – you might say, but … she didn't leave a mark. She healed anything she did that wasn't caused by the fall, so no one noticed and I –I couldn't tell anyone. Couldn't admit it. I felt filthy, stupid, and couldn't stomach facing someone who knew me and might notice so I pulled away and I hurt all of us. I hurt myself, and I hurt my real friends. I'm sorry." He finished in a whisper. He hadn't looked up once. Harry felt the pain grind against his chest again, and wished it would all be over.

"Why play around?" Hermione asked tonelessly. "What was the point in playing with the Patils? With Lavender?"

Neville flinched under her voice. Harry bristled, but Neville knew him too well. He looked up and shook his head slightly at Harry. "No, I … I thought maybe I could – could bury the memories. They were stupid enough to fall into my lap in moments, and they didn't notice or didn't care that I was manipulating them. Lavender …" He chuckled breathlessly. "We were both playing the same damn game, I guess, trying to manipulate each other. We both got burned." He shrugged. "I don't want to do any of that again. I was wrong; I was over-compensating. I'm sorry, to all of you. I didn't … I was stupid. I thought it would hurt less."

Neville had looked down again, curling back in upon himself in the chair, speaking in a broken whisper. He couldn't seem to snap out of it. Harry tore his eyes away and clinically catalogued the reactions, trying to find any that were hostile. There were none. The twins looked torn between fury and dismay; Ron was horrified, startled. Ginny, who must have spoken with Blaise since he was informed, was sad. Nanna and Melanie both were horrified and confused, but Harry thought Melanie might be feeling guilty; she, after all, had been there right after. She had lauded his distress as a broom accident, as torn pride. Harry would try and get Ginny to comfort her; he didn't think Neville could handle it right then.

Finally, Harry forced himself to look, really look, at Hermione. Her face was a study of calm; remarkably similar to Neville's when he didn't want anyone intruding. But he'd learned to read Alan and Blaise over three years. Hermione couldn't keep her emotions as tightly as they: he could guess that she was hurt, betrayed, but she also seemed, predictably, horrified, dismayed, and scared. Even a thread of guilt wormed through her eyes, and Harry finally coughed, turning all eyes to him.

"I just found out this morning. That's why we ran through so early; Neville told his parents, and McGonagall and Pomfrey of the staff at least know. As does Alan and his coterie. I think he's been hurt enough, what with Lavender and Draco on his case."

Everyone but Hermione nodded. She still looked lost in thought, in hurt and guilt and confusion. Neville looked around quietly at the agreement and while his eyes lingered with pain on Hermione's face, he looked down before she came back to herself enough to notice, returning silently to struggling through his homework. The twins lingered for a moment before shifting away, talking quietly and eyeing Lavender vindictively. Ron wandered up to the dorms, looking lost, and Melanie, Ginny, and Nanna similarly wandered off. Hermione remained where she was, watching her hands and looking lost.

Harry awkwardly remained for a while, but the plotting cast to the twins eyes was grating on his desire to get at Lavender himself so he took a moment to walk over and scold them, holding them off for a week to let him get his revenge. He directed them to plan with the Slytherins, and, turning back to the chairs by the fireplace, Harry felt a twinge. Hermione had left, and Neville was alone, glaring down at his textbooks and parchment. It must have pinched to struggle so. Harry wandered back over; loathe leaving Neville alone now that he had his friend back. He'd barely sat when Hermione trotted back down the stairs of the girl's dormitory, her arms full of books. Neville was as surprised as Harry when she set the load down on the table next to Neville's. She sat across from him, on a completely separate chair, but stubbornly she pulled a sheaf of parchment off the stack and thrust it at Neville. Neville could only blink blankly.

Hermione finally huffed. "They're my History notes. You didn't take any, and I –I noticed you were at a loss. So here. They're from the last class, for the essay you're working on. I'm not giving you them for next week, though. You have to take your own. But …"

Neville watched her with tormented eyes, but he gently murmured a thank you before returning to his essay. A tension Harry hadn't been able to pick out amidst his sadness eased out of his shoulders, and Neville returned to work with a small sad smile. Hermione herself went to work on her own essays. A lightness had moved back into her frame as well, and Harry finally leaned back and sighed pleasantly. Ron might still be fighting to make sense of the abrupt change, but he'd manage. Things were falling back together. He couldn't have hoped for more.

IIII

Monday wasn't as challenging as Harry thought it would be. He'd heard from Alan once that he had a scary glare, but when no one intruded upon Neville now that he was within the group again, Harry finally felt that apparently Alan was right.

In most classes Harry shared with Neville they sat together, Neville quietly working beside him. He spoke rarely, and didn't volunteer to answer questions anymore; Harry suspected he was struggling with his work, even though he couldn't fathom why it had become difficult for him now that he was paying attention again.

The only class they shared where they didn't pair up together was Potions; Blaise had, Monday, swept over and pulled Neville down into the seat they'd shared previously, ushering Harry over to Alan much to Severus' dismay. Blaise had also apparently taken over as Neville's partner in Ancient Runes. Surprisingly, Anthony Goldstein had snagged Hermione as his partner, throwing the class into minor disarray as several people adjusted to the change: no one wanted to partner Alan, one of the Slytherin leaders, who had previously partnered Blaise. Daphne eventually left her group and partnered him. They laughed about the turmoil for days.

Wednesday, however, Neville got into another fight just outside of the library, putting Draco and Pansy into the hospital wing all evening. McGonagall was not pleased, although she didn't add any detention. Since Neville's evenings were claimed into May, Harry wasn't surprised, although he wished he hadn't gotten into another fight. He'd been in class – Neville had a free period when the rest of them were in Care.

Either way, the week was probably as stressful as the weeks before but somehow it just weighed markedly less. There was just a strange lightness that held Harry through each day, knowing that the problem that had hung over everything like a storm cloud since they got back to school was at the very least known and hopefully healing. Having gotten Lavender Thursday evening made everything better. Using a few things that had been just sitting in a far corner of his trunk, and enlisting Alan's help on some of the spell work he was iffy about, Lavender was stalked by a large 'Grim' for the entire day, culminating in her dissolving into hysterics in the evening when it appeared and snuck up on her during dinner, stealing her bag and running with it. The bag was recovered at the base of the stairs up the North tower, and Harry went to bed very tired that evening. Animation spells were very draining, and he got through the next day of classes on grace and Neville's amused and repetitive pinches and prods keeping him from nodding off in the middle of class. His spell work was abysmal, but since he hadn't been doing well for five weeks, it wasn't too out of place. Seeing him nodding off in the common room after supper, Angelina banned him from the common room and ordered him to go to bed and get rested; he was not allowed to be tired for the Quidditch game in the morning. She became even more insistent that he go to sleep when he didn't argue.

Harry felt deeply relieved to stand on the turf of the Quidditch pitch, staring at a nice, fluffy sky and waiting for the whistle to split the crisp air. This was so easy. Admittedly, Neville had opted out to instead browse the library but Harry wasn't worried; Stephanie had promised to keep an eye on him, and from her considering look he wondered if maybe she wasn't going to commandeer him for something …

The whistle blew, and Harry shot into the air. The wind, the game, the first crack of beater bat against bludger and he just let himself forget the last week, forget the Death Eaters and Dark Lords and he just played.

Of course, that might have been helped by Angelina's threat of bodily harm if he was distracted during the game.

It was Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff, and Harry felt no threat from the new seeker Hufflepuff had now that Cedric had graduated. Even so, he certainly wasn't cutting Summerby any slack; the boy was watching him a little too arrogantly for him to not want to teach him a few new tricks. Five minutes into the game, however, Summerby took off after a glint near the ground, and Harry immediately pulled up beside him. Fake out or not, he wasn't going to let him move without tailing him, and about halfway through the dive, Harry strongly suspected he was trying to get him to plough himself. Grinning, Harry pushed him broom for more speed to pull up neck to neck with Summerby, making the other seeker look more attentively at the ground. Harry grinned. His insistence was worrying the fourth year that he'd somehow missed something right in front of his nose and Harry glanced up – and pulled out of the dive as something sparkled past Zacharias Smith's ankles. He was betting Smith did not wear anklets, and as it moved past him in a streak of light, Harry pressed his broom for all it was worth. However, he didn't catch it. It disappeared behind the stands and was gone by the time he circled.

Idly, Harry just drifted, letting himself relax again as he scanned the pitch and tuned into the announcer. He almost laughed as Lee's voice moved quickly into a gleeful war cry; Angelina had just dodged around Smith so quickly she left him spinning in place. In his confusion, she scored easily against the keeper, bringing the score up to forty – zero. Frustrated, Zacharias brought them around but didn't manage to keep the quaffle long with the interference of the twins.

Harry laughed again, and turned to quickly scan the pitch again. Summerby was across from him, circling and watching intently. Harry simply smiled and scanned again, bumping his broom into his own circle as he listened to Lee.

"Bell makes another attempt on the Hufflepuff hoops, and – Oh, no such luck. Cadwallader takes the quaffle back up the pitch, proving a bit more adept at dodging the bludgers than Smith. It's looking a bit shaky, but Cadwallader passes off to Smith as Bell and Spinnet attempt to box him in. Smith takes up the pitch again – Ouch, that's going to leave a mark. Smith drops the quaffle as he takes a bludger to the arm, but Cadwallader has done it again! Streaking up beneath him, the Hufflepuff chaser takes the quaffle out of Spinnet's grasp and makes a throw on Keeper Weasley and – Oh, he scores. Forty – ten, Gryffindor and Weasley tosses the quaffle back out to Johnson."

Harry stuck his tongue out at Summerby's tensely arrogant smile, and scanned again. Ron was probably going to be hacked off for a few minutes. He hated missing a quaffle. Either way –

Harry cut his thoughts off and in a burst of rather foolish self-importance took a nosedive almost vertical through the gathered players. His appearance sparked much interest; Hufflepuff didn't know what he was doing and Harry strongly suspected he didn't want to know what names Angelina was calling him right then, but he'd seen the snitch dancing around the players and didn't want to lose it. Seriously, straight down was the quickest option he had.

Unfortunately, he'd been high enough that by the time he was in range, the beaters had taken the time and care to line up their shots against him. Fred and George had admirably commandeered one loose bludger, but the other was shot clean into his path. Adrenaline pumping in his ears, Harry kept his angle a millisecond after he heard the impact, and then veered into a wide spiral, eyes locked on the snitch and trusting his peripheral vision to tell him where the bludger was. The wind whistled over his back, and then he pulled into an abrupt loop up as the snitch ducked into Katie's path. The chaser swore and dodged around it, and Harry shot through the pitch without a care for the plays he was disrupting. He came abreast of the snitch and then heard a shout,

"Hey Harry, watch your hat!"

Harry didn't bother to wonder about the phrasing and just ducked, hand over his head and bringing his broom into an exaggerated loop under Summerby. A fierce 'Oof!' and a thud told him Summerby, who had just come abreast him as well, was out of the picture and if he could just … He reached over his head and back, grabbing the snitch - and then remembering that the broom was supposed to remain under you, and not almost escape. Abruptly, Harry did an undignified curl and his broom twisted as he began to fall. Harry thrust the hand with the snitch down and released it as he grabbed his broom and straightened out, pulling back up with barely enough time to snag the snitch again. He had a moment of panic as it almost escaped him, barely registering the shrill whistle below marking the end of the game, but it paused and he secured his grip with an awkward motion. He landed with the rest of his team, pleased with his success. When Madam Hooch was finalizing it, Harry couldn't help but pipe up,

"Do we got bonus points because I had to catch the snitch twice?"

Madam Hooch snorted, and Angelina spluttered.

"How did you catch the snitch twice?"

Harry shrugged, mildly embarrassed. "Well, the first time I caught it I almost fell. I had to let it go to get back on my broom, but I caught it again, so it's all good."

Angelina rubbed her face with her hands, and Madam Hooch finally regained her aplomb and snorted. "Mr. Potter, you only need to catch the snitch once in a game, so you only ever get the normal points. Kindly keep that in mind. There is the skin memory, in case you forgot that."

Harry subsided without pressing the point. He did remember: it had just not been on his mind at the time and really, it was too much fun to not try. Angelina looked ready to slap him; he suspected it was only because he'd succeeded that she was forgiving his little dive into the Chasers. Besides, if the large amount of hilarity coming from the Slytherin stands was any indication …

"Honestly, we won." Alicia groused. "Why's Slytherin laughing so damn much?"

Harry coloured. Ron didn't notice and frowned. "I don't know, some of them look out of sorts, but you've got half of them laughing their heads off."

Fred and George snickered, but didn't answer. Finally, Katie noticed and poked her finger into the nearest twin's chest.

"What is so funny? We need to know, so cut the inside joke and spill it. You know something."

"Oh, we don't know anything." The twin in question laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "But I think ickle Harry might have an inkling …"

As one, the Chasers and Keeper turned to fix Harry with a firm glare. Harry glared at the twins, but upon Angelina clearing her throat, Harry smiled awkwardly.

"I'm thinking my friends are having a little fun with my falling-off-my-broom stunt, is all. Don't worry, the Quidditch team is probably all cowed; it's just the rest of them probably think it's ruddy hilarious."

"Friends?" Katie queried, but Angelina rode over her.

"Are they finding it funny you nearly got hurt?"

Harry's amusement simmered and he straightened to frown at Angelina. "No, they don't think it's funny I was in danger, just that I was almost falling off when I'm a natural flier. Obviously I got back on; I just probably looked a right pillock while doing so. And yes, Katie, they're my friends. I thought that pretty much made the rounds already?"

Angelina gaped a moment, and then shook her head. "Say what? You're friends with the Slytherins?" Katie couldn't seem to speak, and Ron just looked a little left out; apparently he'd been hoping he was seeing things. As such, Harry answered to Ron.

"Yes, I'm friends with Alan Prince and his half of the house. Unfortunately, that doesn't include the Quidditch team, especially since he got kicked off it. Everything's peachy, really."

Angelina blinked again, and then shook her head. "Alright, whatever. It doesn't have a thing to do with your performance, right?"

Harry smiled. "It won't change a thing in how I play, and wouldn't even if he were still on the team. We've been friends since second year; I play fine against him. He'd never let me live it down if I went easy on him. Really Johnson," Harry tutted, "we're male."

Angelina muttered something derogatory about men and where they keep their brains before she just spun around and ordered the team back to the dressing rooms. Harry just smiled as he followed. Quidditch was so much fun.

A/N: There. Dealt with. Sorta. All happyness, sunshine, rainbows, and the ever-present love of Quidditch. The next chapter is Alan, Pranks, and Geoffrey, followed by a chapter of Umbridge! I know, you're all awaiting it with bated breath. I hope you like! Also, are any of you morbidly curious about Neville's attack as I have it in oneshot and may post it if there's interest. If not, there are a few other things I could put up in there. I am still open to suggestions for them.

Thank you for reading, please review? Loves,

Fire & Napalm