Harry Potter and the Power of Time

by RossWrock

Now AU, 6th Year, following OoTP. Tired of the way Dumbledore and the Order treat him, and ready to face his destiny, Harry dedicates long hours to muggle and magical training to take the fight to Voldemort for a change. Slight HPGW, not shippy though.

17. A Whole Lot of Quidditch

Harry Potter and the Power of Time

Chapter 17 – A Whole Lot of Quidditch, and Some Other Stuff

More than thirty Gryffindors turned out for tryouts, which Harry was very happy about. Most of them were familiar faces, but since it had been so long since Gryffindor had held Quidditch tryouts, most had no idea what to expect. It was the year before Harry started school that the last large tryouts were held, so naturally everyone in the house turned out to see who'd get the coveted five positions.

The first thing Harry and Ginny did was address the masses. Naturally everybody assumed that Harry was the new captain, so that was the first order of business. Harry wanted it perfectly understood that while technically Ginny did have to try out for her spot as chaser, she was still co-captain of the team, and would be as much in charge as Harry was. So with that announcement, the two co-captains instructed the Quidditch hopefuls up into the air, to see what they were made of. A round of general flying was how they started things off.

Right from the beginning, it was apparent that at least some of the hopefuls had no real talent in the air. Those five dared not fly more than ten feet above the ground, and their broom handling skills were atrocious. In fact, Harry hadn't seen such bad flying since his own first lesson, when Neville ended up breaking his wrist.

Neville must have had a lot of practice over the years though, because surprisingly he was one of the better fliers out there. He didn't have the speed of Harry, or the litheness of Ginny, but nonetheless Neville was a strong, solid flier.

Dean and Seamus were trying out too, along with the Creevy brothers, a whole lot of third years Harry didn't know, two of Ginny's dormmates, and a single seventh year boy Harry had never talked to. Harry wasn't yet trying to match up fliers to positions, he was simply judging them all of their abilities in the air. Ginny was doing the same from the other side of the pitch, as she circled the potentials opposite Harry.

"She isss a magnificent flier, isss she not?"

As if he knew what Harry was thinking about, Seth spoke up from Harry's hand, almost scaring him off his broom. The ensouled snake which Harry had discovered on his newly purchased ring so rarely made comments in public, that often times Harry forgot that he had a constant companion.

"Yessss, she issss good," Harry answered back in Parseltongue. There was no question of Ginny's flying abilities, and with her new broom, Ginny was clearly the leader of the pack for the open chaser positions. "Since when are you interested in Quidditch, Seth?"

"Isss that what this isss called? I simply enjoy the open air."

Harry would have asked more, but Seth fell silent, and Harry had to turn his attention back to the tryouts anyway. Silently, Harry added three more names to the short list he wanted to dismiss right away. Along with the five who wouldn't leave the ground, these three had almost no control over their brooms. It would be impossible for them to add a ball into play, which would force at least one hand off the broom handle. They were just a recipe waiting for disaster.

After another few minutes, Ginny signaled him that she was done, and Harry landed by her to announce that the first part of the trials were over. Casting a Sonorus charm on his throat, Harry instructed all the fliers down to the pitch for the first round of eliminations. After a brief discussion, Harry let Ginny have the honors.

"Before we break up into groups by position, Harry and I want to thank Emily, Dan, Carrie, Saffron, Humbert, Colin, and Victoria for trying out. However, you still need more practice in the air before you can consider Quidditch, so please practice and try again next time if you like." The eight dismissed students didn't look too crushed, and they had to have suspected they'd not make the team. They just weren't good enough. The only one who looked a little miffed was Colin, as his younger brother Dennis had made the cut. In fact, Dennis was one of the better fliers. Light and small, he had coaxed the school broom faster than it ought to have flown. Not many people could have done that.

"For the next round of trials," Ginny continued, "we'll split up into the different positions. First up will be the chasers. So anyone wanting to tryout, join me in the air. The rest of you, take a seat or keep to the other side of the pitch."

Ron was already climbing toward the closest set of goals, with a goofy grin on his face. He thought blocking the shots of a bunch of want-to-be chasers would be a piece of cake. After three hours in the air, he knew he was wrong.

First up against Ron was Ginny, who despite being nervous earlier on, was confident as she shot quaffles through the three hoops. Harry and Ginny decided to let each contestant have twenty shots against the keeper, and Ginny managed to make eleven herself. Not bad, considering she was shooting one on one against a seasoned veteran. In a real game situation, having three chasers work together as a team would increase her winning shot percentage.

Two others didn't manage to make any shots at all, one of which was Seamus much to his chagrin. Ron thoroughly enjoyed showing up his roommate though, and would have continued to boast annoyingly if not for Dean, who managed four straight goals before Ron regained his focus.

A few others stood out, and one small girl even managed more shots than Ginny, but there was more to being a chaser than shooting goals. The position demanded teamwork, and that was the next drill.

After dismissing the two who hadn't managed a shot, Harry randomly arranged two chaser hopefuls with himself to go against Ron. Although not trained for the position, it was decided earlier that Harry would stand in for Ginny half the time so she could get a look from the stands. Besides, she would have gotten knackered, constantly being part of the three team assault.

It was clear that once they all had to depend on each other, some of the candidates couldn't keep up. They either couldn't fly in formation right, dropped the ball when attempting to pass or receive the quaffle, or couldn't work well in a team environment.

After the first three pairings, Ginny stepped in for Harry, and she had a go while he watched from the sidelines. They switched back and forth like this for the next hour, giving all participants at least two attempts with different partners, and only then met together while giving the other fliers a short break.

"What do you think?" Harry asked her once they were out of earshot of the others. Ron would have been included in the conversation, but he chose to stay in the air, giving the others some extra practice.

Ginny kept her eyes in the air as she answered. "Well, Natalie's real good, and I can see us working well together. Neville's a real strong flier too, but he's slowing me down. And that third year girl, I don't know her name. She's amazing, but she seems shy. If we can get her to open up more, I think with practice she'd even be better than Angelina ever was."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, her name's Constance, or Connie. Did you notice she managed more goals against Ron than you did? I think she'd be great for the team, as long as you all work together. Let's try to put you three up there now. We'll also do one of you, Neville, and Dean just to throw everyone off. I don't want to make any final decisions without Ron. We can talk later tonight."

Ginny agreed, and the last two groups made quick work in the air. Indeed, Ginny, Natalie, and Connie made an excellent team as chasers, and together managed to get all but five of the quaffles past Ron in their time allotment. Dean and Neville didn't do too bad, but it was clear they weren't suited for chasers. Maybe it was a Gryffindor girl thing?

Refusing to give anyone their decision, Harry and Ginny called out for a twenty minute break while they rounded up the next group of candidates. This time around, the beater positions were up for grabs.

"Ready Ron?" Harry asked. Stupidly Ron had agreed to step in to help with this part of the tryouts, and he was sorely regretting it now. He'd been in the air none stop since tryouts began, and was perspiring heavily. He, Harry, and Ginny all also wore their Gryffindor team robes, and the heavy wool was beginning to take its toll. It was excellent practice for their soon upcoming Slytherin game though.

"Crickie, Harry. I'm tuckering out. I don't know if I can keep this up for much longer." Ron had promised to act as beater for the next part of the trial, as he had played the position a few times in pick up games at the Burrow. It was important to have someone in the air while the bludgers were loose who knew what they were doing, otherwise things could get out of control.

"Just do the best you can, Ron. I'll take over for you in awhile. Wood always said I'd make a fair beater!" Harry wasn't worried much. After all, how hard could it be?

When the break was over with, everyone was back in the air again. This time the exercise was to hit the bludgers towards the chasers. Ginny thought about asking for volunteers, but Harry decided not to. It wouldn't be good for them to have a player end up in the hospital wing even before a game started. So Harry and Ginny took on the responsibility themselves, flying around as the moving targets. They didn't bother with a quaffle, but instead just flew back and forth along the pitch, doing their best to dodge the charmed iron balls.

In teams of two, picked out among themselves, the hopefuls grabbed a club and set to the air to knock Harry or Ginny off their brooms. Ron had a beater club himself, but was told to use it only in case of an emergency. Still, he had to keep up with the flying balls, which was tiring enough.

Not having to worry about a snitch, an opposing seeker, or his own beaters, Harry had no problem avoiding all of the bludgers shot his way. There were a few close calls, but none that made contact. Ginny too had little trouble in dodging the shots, as she hadn't to worry about her fellow chasers or the quaffle. Instead of a real Quidditch match, it was like trying to fly through an obstacle course.

This time there were over twenty students trying out for the spots, most of whom had already tried out for chaser. Neville was in the air again, as was Dean, Seamus, the seventh year boy, and the whole third year male dormroom. Only four girls tried out for beater, and sadly they were either too small to too light to have much effect on the heavy bludgers.

Soon all participants had a shot in the air with the beater clubs, and Ron stumbled towards Harry and Ginny with weary arms. He was panting heavily.

"That's it, I'm done," he said. "I'm a keeper for Merlin's sake. I'm not supposed to fly all over the pitch and back. I'm going over to sit with Hermione. Good luck with the rest of tryouts."

Ron had lasted longer than Harry would have thought, and was glad to see his friend so happy, even if he pretended to be annoyed. If his jealousy had crept up overt the issue of being Quidditch captain, tryouts could have turned out to be very difficult.

Hermione was over in the bleachers, reading a book and surprisingly petting Hedwig, who was perched on her lap. Harry noticed she flew out as soon as tryouts began, and had been present the entire time. Such a loyal bird. Almost the entire house of Gryffindor was present sitting behind Hermione for a better view of the pitch. Not only were they interested in watching the tryouts, but they had to be on guard duty as well. No one thought the Slytherins above a little cloak and dagger reconnaissance work, so the first and second year students were made to alternate as look outs. So far, no intruders had been discovered.

"Alright Harry, next round." Ginny reminded him. This time, the hopefuls had to protect Ginny in the air. It was Harry's job (in place of Ron) to pose as the attacking team.

After explaining this to the others, and strapping one of the bludgers into the Quidditch ball trunk, Harry took to the air again for the final round of beater trials. He didn't particularly enjoy aiming the deadly iron ball at his fellow co-captain, but took solace in the fact that he was inexperienced, there was only one bludger, Ginny was an accomplished flier, and that there were two others doing their best to block his shots.

Right away, Harry and Ginny dismissed three contenders, one of which was again Seamus. While they had no problems aiming the bludgers at others, they couldn't properly defend their own players.

The rest did an adequate enough job, and after a long discussion, Ginny finally managed to convince Harry to release the other bludger as well. Now the conditions were more game like, and more dangerous.

For his part, Harry did a good job of sending the bludgers in the proper direction. He even once grazed the side of Ginny's leg, and had to stop until she assured him she was OK. True most of his shots were blocked and returned back to him, but he still did far better than he thought he'd do.

Another hour later, Harry and Ginny had dismissed another three possibilities, and paired the rest up in every possible combination. They were looking not for only the two best beaters, but also the two who worked best together.

Harry already had an idea who'd make the team, but again decided to table the decision until later when he could ask Ron to join the conversation.

"OK everyone, thank you all for coming out for the Quidditch team tryouts. We'll probably announce the new team members tomorrow after breakfast, but you all did a fantastic job." Ginny was addressing the large number of Gryffindors still waiting in the stands, while Harry had a drink of water and caught his breath. Ginny's job was over with, but Harry still had one more task.

"The only people remaining should be the ones who wish to tryout for the reserve seeker position. Everyone else is dismissed."

The stands cleared out as Ginny ended her announcement, and only a few remained. Tryouts for a reserve position didn't draw all that much attention. Ron and Hermione were packing up their things, and Hedwig flew over to rest on Harry's shoulder. Ginny was also gathering the notes she had taken that day. Harry had only taken notes in his head.

"Man Harry, I don't envy you right now. You got another hour in the air at least, I reckon. Think you'll miss lunch?" Ron asked.

Looking at his watch, and the number of Gryffindors who stayed behind to try out for reserve seeker, there was no doubt that Harry would be missing lunch. He moaned.

Ron smiled. "Don't worry mate, we'll kip you something from the kitchens. Hermione wanted a look down there this year anyway."

Hermione nodded an agreement. "Yes, I wanted to see if anymore house-elves had warmed up to my S.P.E.W. ideas. How about we grab something for you, as I'm sure we won't be able to leave without a basket of food, and meet you at Hagrid's later? We never did get the chance to visit him last week."

Momentarily caught off guard as he couldn't believe he forgot about Hagrid again, Harry quickly agreed as his friends left. Ginny had put most of the school brooms and pads away in the broom shed, and only the ones occupied by the six nervous hopefuls were left.

"Alright you lot, so you want to be a seeker? Let's have at it then. Everyone up in the air, and follow me. Try to keep up if you can." With another deep breath, Harry launched himself in the air for an hour long game of tag. There was no snitch in the air, but Harry didn't need one. He was the snitch this time, and the others simply had to catch him.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry was sore all over. The moment he landed on the ground, there was nothing more he wanted than to crawl into a nice hot relaxing bath. Unfortunately, Harry's stomach was growling, and he had promised to meet his friends at Hagrid's. He saw Ron and Hermione enter the hut minutes earlier from the air, and made his way over as he packed his new broom back in its trombone case. All of Gryffindor had seen him use the new, unknown broom, but all were told not to let others know about it as well. If it meant a surprise for the Slytherin team during their first game, Harry was sure no one would dare mention it.

"Hallo, Harry. 'Bout time you finally got to visiting me, now ain't it?" Hagrid greeted him after Harry knocked on the door.

Ron and Hermione were sitting together in an oversized armchair, with the customary cups of tea in front of them, and a plate of rock cakes sitting untouched on the large, wooden table. Harry was almost hungry enough to attempt to eat one of them, when he noticed the large hamper of food Hermione had balanced on her lap.

Harry took a seat on an ottoman, which was still too large for just him, and attacked the wrapped food with vigor as Hermione picked up her conversation with Hagrid. His mouth being full, Harry merrily ate while he listened, and got caught up on his friend's last few weeks.

It seems that Hagrid had made another trip this past summer. With the centaurs' new vigilant attitude, and the attack made on Grawp just the year before, Hagrid had been forced to move his half brother to a new location. It wasn't that bad though. Now living in better accommodations in the forest outside of Beauxbatons with Olympe Maxime as his companion, Grawp was much happier. Hagrid was much better too, as he had taught enough to his half brother for him to be more sociable to others, and being away gave his wounds a chance to heal. And whenever he felt the need to visit Gwarp or Olympe, all he needed to do was catch a permanent portkey Dumbledore had made for him.

Hagrid asked how all their classes were going, what they thought of the new DADA professor, and how tryouts had gone. Harry had finished the delicious meat pies by now, and managed to contribute to the small talk before they all left. Really, Harry missed spending so much time with Hagrid. Now that he wasn't taking the Care of Magical Creatures class, the only conversations the two shared were at meals or in the hallways. Harry promised to visit more often as soon as he settled down in his new schedule.

On the long walk up to Gryffindor tower, talk naturally turned back towards the tryouts. Ginny and Harry were both eager to finalize a team roster, and wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon going over their notes. At their invitation, Ron ducked out claiming he was completely knackered, and still had to get a start on his week's homework. Besides, "I trust you both," he said.

Not wanting to disturb, or be disturbed by the many others in the common room, Harry once again motioned for Ginny to follow him away from the others, and they made their way towards the Room of Requirements. The room was quickly becoming a sanctuary for Harry.

The room appeared much differently than ever before, as Harry and Ginny both contributed to what they thought they'd need. Much smaller than the D.A. room, the comfortable space provided them a large squishy couch, a functionary flat table for writing, an elaborate scaled model of the Hogwart's Quidditch pitch, and a nice big chalkboard to work out new moves.

Ginny immediately took a seat in the middle of the couch right in front of the table, and started moving a provided quill across a blank piece of parchment. Taking a seat besides her, Harry glanced over and saw she was listing the positions available on the team, and another list of the most qualified names of those who had auditioned.

"What do you think, Harry? Want to decide chasers first, or beaters? Oh, and who did you pick for reserve seeker?" Ginny asked.

Grimacing, Harry answered. "As much as I'll probably regret it, Dennis Creevy was easily the best choice. There were another two that were great fliers, but he has more potential. I think after two years of hard training, he'll easily be able to compete with the best."

That sounded like a good thing, so Ginny didn't know why Harry would regret the decision. She asked.

"Because," Harry replied, "to say he was excited would be the understatement of the century. Now Colin and that damned camera will no doubt be at every practice snapping pictures of everything he gets the chance of. I do not need to spend more time with him. Do you know last year he actually snuck into my dormroom to try and take pictures of me sleeping? I think he's becoming a bit too fanatical, and now with Dennis on the team, he has an excuse to get even closer. Merlin help me!"

Ginny couldn't help but giggle as she desperately tried to hold in a larger laugh. It was well known that Collin Creevy was more than just a fan of Harry's. In truth, he was one of the few openly gay students at Hogwarts, and the object of his affections couldn't be any more clear. It was a shame that Harry couldn't stand him, let alone share any of those same feelings.

"Don't laugh," Harry admonished. Even to him it was funny at first, but after so many years living with the problem, Harry only found annoyance. "If Neville was still after you with his puppy dog eyes, like he was after he took you to the Yule Ball, you wouldn't find it funny either."

That sobered Ginny up real quick. For the few months after the Christmas Ball in Ginny's third year, Neville had assumed they were practically a couple, and it had finally taken a stern talking to by both Ginny and Ron to get through the boy's thick head. Luckily Neville hadn't taken the news too badly, but Ginny could still remember the fear she had that he'd end up a stalker. Funny really; she was just getting over her crush on Harry, and someone else had almost latched onto her.

The player decision didn't really take too long. Both Harry and Ginny agreed who the two other chasers should be, so there was no argument to be had. Natalie McDonald, a fourth year, and Connie, the third year who scored more goals than Ginny did, were the two obvious choices. Harry was also pleased that the chasers were staggered in years, so all three chasers leaving school the same year wouldn't happen again. Ginny didn't take that into consideration at all, but saw the advantage. Unfortunately, that advantage was at the heart of the argument they had over the beater position.

"What do you mean you don't want Philip to be the other beater? He was clearly the better of the two," Ginny argued. They both agreed on a third year boy to be one of the two new beaters, but Ginny favored the seventh year Philip over Harry's choice, Neville.

"I agree Ginny, Philip is plainly the better beater," Harry agreed. "But he's a seventh year, and I think it's silly to pick him for only a few games, and than have to find a replacement again next season. Neville's only got an extra year on him, true, but I might even choose someone younger if there was another decent flier for the job. This is clearly a rebuilding year for our team, and I'd like to pick new team members who'll still be around next year after we really come together."

Ginny had to admit that made sense, although she still thought the position should go to Philip. Unlike Harry, she knew him well, as he'd been a friend of her brothers'. He had never been able to try out as beater before, because Fred and George had already had the positions. They dominated on the team for five straight years, until the ban. The only reason he hadn't been picked as a replacement for them after they left, was because he thought it was disrespectful to step up in their place for only a partial season. Plus, he was already tied up with a lot of schoolwork.

"Besides," Harry further argued, "I think that Neville showed more teamwork than Philip did. And I was really impressed that he even tried out at all. Imagine, two years ago he never would have gotten up the courage to try out for the Quidditch team. After last year, Neville's confidence has really increased, and I think him being on the Quidditch team will do so even more."

Ginny couldn't deny any of that, so in the end she gave in to Harry's argument. After all, after the initial shock wore off that he didn't fall off his broom and break his neck, Neville had shown to be a very accomplished, if steady, flier. The extra weight that had slowly begun to turn into muscle last year was good for a beater's position, as it made for a solid platform to beat a club from. Neville wasn't as stocky as the twins had been, but still managed a strong hit to the iron balls, with extreme accuracy. And being a beater meant that he didn't have to rely on any fancy flying, like a seeker or chaser might need. He simply had to keep an eye on the two bludgers, and knock them away when needed.

There were conditions however, which Harry quickly agreed to. First off, he was the one who had to tell Philip that he wasn't picked for the team because he was a seventh year. Harry wasn't looking forward to that, but he hoped that Philip would understand it was the best decision for the team. Harry also had to agree that Philip could practice with the team if he wanted, and would be considered a reserve beater. That way if anything happened to either Neville or Frank, the third year beater, he'd be available to step in.

"Well, I guess that's over with now," Harry stated as he continued to rub his shoulders. He hadn't stopped aching since his lunch at Hagrid's, and was deeply looking forward to a relaxing bath in his trunk once he got upstairs. He really should have left the beater work to those more experienced.

"Anything else you'd like to do, Harry?" Ginny asked. She had a mischievous smile on her face, and that never led to anything good. It was the same look the twins' wore when an unsuspecting student was about to bite into one of their creations for the first time.

"Ahhh, no, I don't think so." Now that the team was picked, Harry couldn't think of anything else. Ginny obviously had something on her mind though, and the only thing he could think of was....no, not that! Harry had almost forgotten about the earlier episode last week, but now he feared flying on their brooms had reminded Ginny about the incident. She was expecting an apology, he thought.

Ginny didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. The smirk on her face clearly alluded to the fact that she was waiting for him to say something else, so Harry swallowed his pride and spoke up. Merlin, this was embarrassing.

"Errr, Ginny, I guess....that is I mean...Ummm, I want to say I'm sorry for what happened last week."

Ginny's smirk turned into a frown, as she clearly had no idea what Harry meant. He didn't know that though, and took the frown as a signal that he had to really say he was sorry, not just male a general apology.

Looking straight down at his hands, not daring to look her in the face, Harry muttered very quietly under his breath. His face turned beat red as he said, "Imsorryiaccidentlyfeltyoup."

Ginny still had no idea what Harry was talking about, and reached over to pinch his leg. It hurt, and Harry yelped in unsuspected pain. However he was now looking her in the face, which had been Ginny's intention.

"Now that you're not acting like a first year anymore," she said, "you can try that again, so I can understand you this time."

Taking a deep breath, Harry repeated his apology. This time his face turned even redder, and the apology was agonizingly slow. "I'm sorry I accidentally felt you up last week."

At first she didn't know what to say, as she didn't connect what Harry was saying to what he was referring to. A moment later though, she was laughing her head off, as Harry's apology was so unexpected, and so, well, very funny.

"What's so funny?" Harry demanded angrily. He thought it had taken a lot of bravery to admit what he had done, and he never expected to be laughed at. "I never meant to do that last week, it just happened! See if I ever try to help you from falling off a broom again."

Ginny laughed some more, and there were tears in her eyes, but somehow she managed a response.

"Oh Harry, I'm not laughing because of that! Well, maybe I am, but not how you think. I just think it's hilarious that you bring this up so long after it happened. I've already forgotten about that little incident. I never even wrote mum about it."

Harry was horrified to think of Mrs. Weasley knowing about the inappropriate actions, even if by mistake, taken towards her only daughter. But what did Ginny mean about it being funny that Harry had brought up the topic now?

"What do you mean it's funny that I mention this now? You obviously were waiting for an apology."

Finally managing to control her pearls of laughter, Ginny shock her head. "I did no such thing. Personally I think that day was embarrassing enough for the both of us, and I'd be happy never to mention it again. I only asked you if there was anything else you'd like to do before we go back to Gryffindor tower."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, and you had that strange look on your face. I said no, and you still were waiting for something....Wait, you don't mean you wanted to do anything....er, with me that might involve....er, well, snogging or anything like that."

Ginny laughed again. "No Harry, I do not want to snog you, although it's nice to know you think the thought so revolting."

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry said. "I don't think snogging you would be bad. Wait....that's not what it sounded like. Oh, bloody hell. You know what I mean. But what was that look you were giving me if you weren't expecting an apology, and you didn't want to....er, you know."

"Look over your shoulder," was all Ginny said.

So Harry did, and noticed for the first time that there was a large padded table on the other side of the room, where there wasn't one before. It had a seam down the middle, a round hole cut out at one end, and was entirely covered in what looked like brown vinyl.

"I only meant," Ginny continued, "that when I asked you if there was anything else you'd like to do, if you'd like a massage. You've been rubbing your shoulders for over an hour now, and the Room obvious provided this table for some reason. I know I don't need a rub down. I had that done to me last week, thank you very much, now that you've reminded me. So I naturally assumed that you're the one in need. You must have subconsciously asked the room to provide some relief for your sore muscles."

Now Harry got it. The padded table was a massage table, and that's what Ginny had been refereeing to, because it popped into existence right in front of her. Now he was even ore embarrassed.

"Oh, stop being silly." Ginny play scolded him, hopping up off the couch and pulling him up with her. "If the room provided the table, you must really need a massage, and I don't mind. Just lie down on your stomach and be quiet. I'd hate for you to say something else even more awkward."

It took another minute of convincing, but Harry gave in to Ginny's ministrations, and actually was looking forward to the back massage. He'd never had one before, and thought it might be a nice experience. Not to mention that Ginny would be giving it to him, who was admittedly a very attractive girl. There were worse things in the world that could happen.

As soon as his head landed on the padded donut shaped pillow, Ginny began to rub his back. The two hours that passed since the tryouts ended had allowed his clothes to dry from his sweat, but he still hadn't a chance to shower. Honestly, he stank a little too, but Ginny didn't seem to mind. She too hadn't taken a shower yet, although she had changed her clothes.

"Merlin Harry, you back feels made of iron! You must be really sore and tense."

Funny, he didn't feel that bad. In fact, he hardly felt Ginny start massaging his back at all. Oh, that's right....

"Err, sorry Ginny, I forgot." Standing up, Harry took off his Quidditch robes and the short sleeve tee shirt he wore underneath. The only thing left on were his pants and dragon armor vest, which was probably the "iron" Ginny had thought were his back muscles.

If she was worried about Harry taking of his clothes in front of her, Ginny didn't show it. Instead, she only looked interestedly at Harry's vest.

"Is that...is that dragon hide? If it is, that must really be expensive," she commented.

Harry told her that yes, it was dragon hide, and explained to her quickly about buying the armor earlier that summer, as a means of protection. He had been wearing it everyday for so long, that Harry didn't even notice the extra layer of clothes anymore. It really did feel like a second skin, even though it was made of a very hard material. It had just been molded to his body.

Looking around, Harry was searching for a private corner where he could remove the vest, and done back his tee shirt, when Ginny just laughed at him.

"Honestly Harry, I have six brothers! I think I can stomach you without your shirt on. Just take of that vest and lie back down."

Nervously he did, as well as removed the two holsters strapped to his forearms. Both his wand and dagger joined the piles of clothing on a nearby chair, and if Ginny was startled by the extra weapons, she didn't say anything.

Once again laying face down, this time Harry felt every move Ginny's small fingers made as they kneaded his back. Surprisingly she had very strong hands, and wasn't afraid to apply pressure, which was a common mistake among the inexperienced. A good massage must have strong pressure applied.

"That feels really good, Ginny." And oh, it really did. Harry was in heaven, and had completely forgotten his plans to soak in his tub later.

"Thanks. Mum sometimes does this for Charlie and Bill when they play pick up games at the Burrow. They're not as young as they used to be, they say, and get more sore than the rest of us. I've never actually done it before, though."

Harry could only moan a response. He was feeling so relaxed, Ginny's next question startled him a bit. He accidentally almost rolled off the table.

"Harry," Ginny asked, "where did these tattoos come from?" To emphasize which ones she meant, her hands rubbed small circles on both his shoulder blades.

Once the question had fought through the fogginess of his mind, and he righted himself from nearly falling off the table, Harry cursed himself for forgetting about his guardian tattoos. Since they were on his back Harry hardly remembered they were there, as he never saw them. That fact that they still hadn't shown any magical properties, nearly eight months after he'd gotten them, was another reason why they slipped his mind.

"Oh, er, I got them this summer also. But please, don't tell anyone about them. They're kind of personal, and I'd rather not share them around. Hermione and your mum would just yell at me, and Ron would think they're cool and run out to get ones of his own. Then I'd really be in trouble."

Ginny agreed. Her mum would go into conniptions, especially after Ron started commenting on how "cool" they looked. He did enough of that with Bill's earring, and that was apples and oranges compared to permanent magical tattoos.

"OK, I can understand that. Funny, I didn't think you were the "bad boy" type, Harry. What made you decide to get these though? I know the dog looks like Sirius, but why a picture of your patronus?"

As Ginny continued to knead his sore muscles, Harry explained how he hadn't chosen the tattoos, but how they were formed by his subconscious. The process fascinated Ginny, and she winced in symphony as Harry explained the burning sensation it had caused at first, similar to the Habanero Heath Crunch bars that Fred and George had developed, only much worse. Ginny was still young and gullible enough at that time to except candy from her older brothers, and had experienced those bars first hand herself. She could only imagine the pain of that feeling coursing through her veins.

"So you see," Harry concluded, "it's not a picture of my patronus; at least not directly. It's a picture of my dad. He's in his animagus form just like Sirius is. I guess since my mum never became an animagus, her tattoo is a flower instead."

Ginny's hands paused as she took a look around Harry's back. There wasn't a flower in sight, and she told Harry that.

"Oh, I guess my pants have just ridden up too far." Harry told her. "My mum's tattoo is right above my waistline. I though it was kind of a girly spot at first, so I guess that's why my mum's tattoo ended up there instead of someplace else."

Nervously, Ginny's fingers trailed down the length of Harry's spine, sending shivers through both of them. At the thought of looking at the tattoo so close to his bum, Ginny for the first time realized she had been spending at least a half hour with her hands all over the naked torso of her former crush. Thank Merlin Harry was on his stomach, or else he would have noticed her infamous Weasley blush.

"May I....may I see it?" She asked timidly.

"Sure, just pull my pants down a little....wait! I don't mean that. Well, you know what I mean. God, this is embarrassing. I've really put my foot in my mouth today."

Ginny giggled as she agreed, and slipped her fingers under the waistline of Harry's pants. Gently she pulled them down inch by inch, until the whole tattoo had been revealed. Small dark hairs were just visible that led further down Harry's backside, and Ginny forced herself to pay attention to only the tattoo.

"It's very pretty," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen a lily this color.

"I haven't either," Harry replied. "Actually, I haven't seen many lilies at all, but I think that most of them are white. The red and green come from my mum's hair and her eyes."

"Your mum had red hair?" Ginny asked. She hadn't known that. And for some reason, she liked the thought.

"Yeah; auburn actually. I little darker than yours, I think. I'll show you a picture of her sometime." Harry felt the hands on his back pause momentarily, and could tell they were in the middle of an awkward moment. But what about, he had no idea. Boys really are dense.

Ginny started to move her hands again, after recovering from the shock that Harry knew her hair color without having to look at it. Most people knew it was red of course, but not many realized that it was actually a darker color than the rest of her family's. Most people just grouped her in with the rest of the Weasleys.

To break the odd silence, Ginny tried for a joke. "You know, if three years ago you told me to pull down your pants and have a look, I might have fainted dead away."

Harry chuckled, as she knew by the way his body raised up and down off the table quickly.

"Well," he retorted, "that just goes to show we've all grown up a lot since then. I'd much rather have your hands down my pants, then have you run from the room or put your elbow in the butter dish every time I see you." Awkward pause again. Very awkward pause.

"No, that's not what I mean!" Harry corrected himself very quickly. "Oh bugger, never mind." Thankfully he wasn't facing her, so he didn't have to look at Ginny's face when he kept making these atrocious blunders.

Ginny laughed again, and really started to work his shoulders and upper arms with a renewed vigor. "Shut up Harry, before you say something I'll have to tell Ron about."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The Quidditch announcements went off without a hitch, and Ron was very happy with the choices made. Philip understood them as well, and was more than happy to practice with the team as a reserve player. It was more than he ever got to do before, so why not? Harry and Ginny decided to hold team practices three times a week after that, once in the morning, and twice a week after dinner. Since they had the most new players to train up, the Gryffindor team had first dibs on booking the pitch. They had picked the best times possible.

Now that Harry's week of detention was long over, the Quidditch practices didn't bite into most of his free time. That week with Filch, which ended the day before Quidditch tryouts, was truly torture. For two hours after dinner every night, Harry was forced to clean parts of the castle without using magic. Not only that, but the castle's stock of muggle cleaning supplies must have been at least thirty years old as well. There were much better products on the markets, nowadays. His Aunt Petunia had made him aware of that. And to make matters worse, Harry was convinced that Filch let Professor Snape know ahead of time which rooms in the castle he'd be cleaning each night. Because whenever he started a new room, the amount of dirt and filth, not to mention graffiti, was unheard of. The Slytherins must have been involved to make such a splendid mess.

The D.A. lessons continued as well, and didn't drop in popularity at all. Marietta chose to stay behind in the beginner class because the memory wipe Kingsley had done the year before had erased all her knowledge of the meetings. To stay with her friend, Cho chose to stay behind as well. Not that she needed it, as she was one of the better members of the D.A. from the year before. But Harry didn't mind. After their horrible break up, he and Cho got along surprisingly well, and he appreciated the help she gave the other students. After the first two weeks, Hermione and the others had stopped coming to the novice meetings with him, and instead concentrated on the advanced class. Harry didn't mind. He didn't have nearly the amount of homework the others did.

The week following Quidditch tryouts, Hermione's birthday also came upon them, and Harry was eagerly awaiting the response he'd get from her gifts. After the obviously expensive marble muggle chess set, he wanted to get something for Hermione other than the usual book or candy.

Opening her gifts in the common room after dinner the night of her birthday, Harry wasn't disappointed. Ron had gotten her some sugar quills and a new day planner (magical kind of course), Ginny had gotten her a very nice skirt, which she had made herself, and Hermione's parents had sent her a gift certificate for the bookstore in Hogsmeade, like they did every year. Not being that familiar with the magical world, Hermione's parents were never sure what to buy their daughter anymore, and took the easy option out whenever possible. Not that Hermione minded naturally; she loved books.

Harry's gift came delivered by an unfamiliar owl after the others had been opened. It had pecked at the window until a third year girl let it in, and it had immediately flown over to Harry.

Untying the parcel from the owl's leg, he handed the gift over to Hermione with a huge smile on his face. "Here you go Hermione, Happy Birthday!"

Ginny and the others excitedly encouraged Hermione to rip open the wrapping paper, but Hermione would have none of that. If she took the time to carefully unfold the paper, she could always use it for something else later. It was one of her more annoying habits her friends had been trying to cure her of ever since they met her.

"Ohhh, a book, how surprising!" Ron commented once he saw the gift. Indeed it was a book, but not a new one. It was old and battered, and there were a few pages dog-eared and stained in some places. Hermione didn't care though once she saw the title.

"Ohhh, Harry, where ever did you find this!" She squealed. "I've been looking for a book about house-elves for years now, but I've never been able to find more than a few passages. This is an entire book on them!"

Harry grinned. "I know Hermione. This is one of the books I discovered in my parents' vault. It's part of a complete set of books about different magical beings and beasts. Sorry I can't give it to you permanently, but you can borrow it for as long as you like, and I've found a neat copying spell you can use as well. I've already read it, and I think you'll love the info inside. The book details the complete history, culture, and society of house-elves dating back to their origins, from when they split off from proper elves. I figured this could help you hammer out some practical ideas for S.P.E.W. If you want to read the book though, you have to promise me something."

Hermione would do anything to be able to read the book, and said as much. What Harry made her promise though confused her.

"You have to promise me you'll put off making more clothes for the Hogwart's house-elves until you completely read this book, and understand their culture a little more. I saw you breaking out the knitting needles last week, and I know you plan to make more hats."

"But Harry, they liked the hats last year!" She argued. "Every single one got picked up by the elves. I must have set at least three dozen elves free with that. Why should I wait to do more?"

"Because," Harry explained, with a hint of seriousness in his voice, "last year only Dobby picked up the hats. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want you to be disappointed. After you started to hide the hats around the tower, all the house-elves refused to enter except for Dobby. Do you know he actually wears at least a dozen of your hats at once? Anyways, Dobby's no longer working at Hogwarts, and I don't want to make this place a pigsty. I'm not saying you have to give up on your ideas about freeing the house-elves from slavery, I just want you to understand the results of your actions first. That's why I got you this book."

Hermione had a pensieve look on her face, but nodded an understanding. For the amount of time it would take her to read the book, she could put off making new clothes.

"Gee Harry, what a great birthday gift!" Neville joked around. "Hermione gets a library loan from you, as well as a lecture. No offense or anything, but for my birthday can I just have some candy?"

The rest of the friends laughed at the joke. It really was an odd gift if you thought about it, but it wasn't Harry's only gift.

"You didn't think that was the only thing I got Hermione, was it Neville? Haven't you noticed that the owl who delivered the book is still here? And for that matter, why would an owl deliver a package that came from my school trunk, anyways?" Harry was grinning from ear to ear now.

Hermione looked over to the large tawny owl who had made the delivery, and switched her glare over to Harry. "Do you me....mean...." She stuttered. "Do you mean that owl is mine?" A look of hope was in her eyes. Not coming from a magical family, Hermione didn't have a family owl to use. She always had to rely on Hedwig or Pig to send replies to her friends when they wrote. She had gotten the chance once to buy an owl the summer before her third year, but had chosen to buy Crookshanks instead, because he looked so unwanted at the time. Presently, the ginger cat was playing tag with Hedwig on an empty chair. The two got along famously, especially after Hedwig transformed into a Phoenix. One of their favorite games was Hedwig picking up Crookshanks, and flying him up to the top of various four poster beds. Then the cat would jump down on the bed's occupants unsuspectingly, scaring them half to death.

"Yup, he's all yours," Harry told Hermione. "I wrote Eeylops's Owl Emporium a week ago, saying that I wanted to buy the most intelligent looking owl they had, for the most intelligent witch at Hogwarts, and they sent this tawny owl here. Hedwig has been checking up on him ever since in the owlery. He's only a few months old, so he hasn't been named yet. I thought I'd let you name him."

Hermione was on him like white on rice in mere seconds. Before Harry even finished his explanations, Hermione was practically sitting on his lap, with both arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him hard.

"Oh Harry, this is the best birthday every! I love the house-elf book, and I absolutely adore the owl!" She had backed off a little by now. Ginny and Neville were both snickering at the flustered look Ron had on his face. He hadn't gotten that type of response for his gift to Hermione.

"The most intelligent looking owl you say?" Hermione asked, as she now was stroking the male owl's feathers gently, looking into his eyes. "If that's so, than I'll name him Rowen. After Rowena Ravenclaw, the most intelligent founder of Hogwarts. How about it," she cooed to the owl, "do you like that name, Rowen?"

Rowen did, as well as Hedwig and Crookshanks. Crookshanks still kept his distance, but at least he didn't treat Rowen like he had treated Scabbers at first.

"But Harry, aren't students only allowed one pet at school?" Ginny asked. She hated to put a damper on things, but Hermione wouldn't be allowed two pets if Rowen was found out.

Shaking his head, Harry replied. "Nope, that rule only applies to new students attending Hogwarts for the first time. I'm sure it's another loophole in the rulebook, but they can't force Hermione to only have one pet. I looked it up to make sure, and even checked with Professor McGonagall. Until they change the rules, both Rowen and Crookshanks are safe."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

As the week of Hermione's birthday passed by, and the school settled into its permanent schedule, Harry, Ginny, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team worked hard during team practices. Three times a week, for two hours a day, they flew hard and they flew fast.

Neville and Frank, the two beaters, worked real well together, and they were both equally matched. Frank was one of the largest third years Harry had ever seen, so his size and strength wasn't an issue. In fact, the two worked so well together, they even started to practice more difficult moves, that usually only seasoned teammates could pull off. Like hitting the same bludger together at the same time, which could add a lot of strength and momentum to the iron ball.

The three chasers were working together as well, although not as well as the chasers. It took awhile for the three girls to develop a system to communicate in the air, so they knew what to expect from each other. Actually, it took a letter written to Angelina and Katie Bell for Harry to realize the problem. Not having any former chasers on the team, there was no one to let him know ahead of time. So when Katie replied first, with complete diagrams of the hand signals she had used on the team, both Harry and Ginny were very relived. They might have lost a week's worth of practice time, but it could have been much worse.

Natalie McDonald, the fourth year chaser, was a natural flier. Holding her broom between her legs, she didn't even need to use her arms to steer her broom even at top speeds. Therefore, so was assigned the job of trying to distract the other's team's chasers and intercept the quaffle.

Ginny was the strongest flier, even if she did need to at least use one hands to steer. Therefore, she was chosen to lead the team of chasers, and be the main player. She would draw the most attention from beaters and bludgers, but her maneuverability would help her out there. She'd also take every opportunity to make goals that she could, unless she was double, or even triple covered. In that case, she'd feint and pass.

It was the youngest chaser on the team, young Connie Wood (distant cousin to Oliver) who was their ace in the hole. So small and quick, she was virtually unstoppable on her broom, because she presented such a small target. It was her job to get into scoring position, while the other two chasers did most of the work of moving the quaffle up the field. Then, if Ginny approached the rings and found herself unable to make a goal, she'd pass to Connie, who'd use her uncanny ability to put the ball through one of the three hoops. At least, that was the plan.

The first game of the season, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, was schedule for the week before Halloween, and by mid October, Harry and Ginny felt pretty confident in their new team. It had been a bumpy road at times, but overall they were a bunch of strong players who were good in their individual positions.

After every practice, Harry and Ginny always retired to the Room of Requirements, set up as the small room they had created that one day, to discuss the most recent practice, and to talk about possible new maneuvers or strategies. After they were done with talking, they often took turns giving each other massages, to loosen their tired muscles.

After that first time, Harry no longer felt any embarrassment in taking off his shirt in front of Ginny. He still always had his pants or shorts on, even though she had made a few jokes about using a towel. After the third session, Ginny even asked the room to provide her with some massage lotions, that she could use. The first time that cold liquid got squirted on his back, Harry actually did fall off the table in shock, but afterwards they learned to warn the lotion up between their hands first.

When it was Ginny's first time to get a massage, both of them were nervous. She had jokingly mentioned it one day, that Harry would have to return the favor, and when he called her out, she bravely agreed. Harry had actually been happy, as he felt uncomfortable always being at the receiving end of the wonderful massages. He didn't want Ginny to think he was just using her, or that he always expected her to give him a massage, so he was glad that he could return the favor.

At first, Ginny only removed her robe, and Harry had to work through the material of whatever shirt she had worn that day. Soon though, they realized that the material always bunched in the wrong spots, and they weren't able to use any lotion with her shirt on.

So after the second failed attempt to give a decent massage still mostly clothed, Ginny finally worked up the nerve to remove her shirt as well as her robes. Harry always made sure to look away when Ginny disrobed, and only turned back once she was lying on her stomach, with her arms pressed against her sides. She wasn't topless though, which was what Harry feared the first time Ginny mentioned it. She still had on her support shirt, which was the witch's version of a sports bra. The stretchy material only reached halfway down Ginny's stomach, and left most of her back and both shoulders exposed, but at least all the important parts were covered up. And the shirt was so tight, that the three straps that lashed against Ginny's back didn't get in the way of his kneading hands, or the application of the scented lotions. The first time was awkward, but after a few more sessions, the two had gotten used to it. They both agreed, however, that they'd never tell Ron about this new development.

All while this happened, Harry also kept himself busy with his weeks' normal routines. Classes continued to become easier to learn, but he had still not managed to usurp Hermione from her top position in Transfiguration. His greater understanding of magical theory helped immensely in Charms class, and Harry continued his work on his personal stunner and other like projects in Arithmancy. Harry suspected Professor Vector was becoming suspicious because Harry always was able to answer questions and never turned in his homework late, but so far she had said nothing.

His individual potion studies were moving at a fast rate as well, as Harry was already working with advanced potions even before he agreed to do the prep NEWT level work himself. Both his second and third batch of Veritaserum didn't turn out right (made possible to brew quicker because Harry now took it back in time with him), but he was getting closer. Harry also completed the potions outlined in his sixth year text, and was moving through them about twice the speed as Snape's class was. According to Hermione, she suspected the time Snape took out to insult and reprimand his students caused them to loose at least half an hour of potion brewing time each class period.

Letters from Amber were of two things not related to his learning or Quidditch that Harry had to look forward to every week. Like clockwork, her pink envelopes were delivered every Tuesday morning by her familiar barn owl, and each Thursday night, Harry sent off his reply with a random school owl. Hedwig had long forgiven him for not using her for those letters, as she got the chance to run errands back and forth between his friends. Even though they were at Hogwarts, sometimes Harry sent a short note to Ginny about a Quidditch captain meeting, or to Remus about a D.A. idea he had, just so Hedwig could deliver some mail.

Amber's letters continued to be flirtatious, but underneath it all she was just being a friend, and maybe hoping for more. Harry assured her she wasn't being too forward when she asked, and he even felt particularly naughty at times when he wrote back. His letters were no where near the level of forwardness that Amber's were, but Harry was learning how to properly talk to an attractive girl. He could have really used these lessons before the whole fiasco with Cho had happened.

The other thing Harry had to look forward to, not related to his work schedule, was an ability he discovered complexly by accident. One Thursday night, after an especially demanding D.A. meeting, and an even longer Quidditch practice, Harry was absolutely knackered and went up to bed earlier. He was the only one in the dorm room at such an early hour, and had already completed his meditation exercise, when he couldn't get to sleep. That was the difference between being tired and being sleepy. No matter how hard he tried, his eyes wouldn't stay closed. Lying on his stomach, starting at the headboard in front of him, Harry began to space out when he noticed for the first time his x-ray vision kicked in accidentally.

It happened from time to time, when Harry's mind started to wonder, but never before had he seen what he saw by staring through the wall his bed rested against. Up until now, Harry had tried to refrain from abusing the gift, and had only taken a few quick peeks at some girls in the hallways to see what they had to offer. His two steadfast rules though, ones that he broke no matter what, was that Harry never looked at any girls he knew personally, and that he never looked under any of their undergarments. By sticking to these rules, Harry deluded himself that he was just a hormonal teenage boy, and not a complete pervert.

This time was different however, because the sight that assaulted him unaware forced his gaze still. Who would have thought that right behind his bed's grey wall, just three feet of solid stone separating the two, was the seventh year girls' dormitory. And who would have thought, that in the earlier evenings, the four seventh year girls all got together to have lingerie parties, to show off their new clothes.

It was a maddening sight for a young teenage boy, having four better than average looking to very attractive girls show off their scantily clad bodies to each other. Harry cold never imagine his dormmates feeling that comfortable with each other in the near buff, but he suspected girls, especially after seven years of sharing a dormroom, were different.

When he was able to pry his eyes away, Harry buried his head in his pillow, feeling guilty for what he had just witnessed. True, he didn't know anything about the seventh year girls other than their names, but still, he knew what he was doing was wrong, and was he was thinking was even worse. For some strange reason, Harry couldn't get the notion of looking back through the wall out of his head.

In the end his hormones won out, and Harry enjoyed an hour long fashion show of Gladrag's most stylish new garments. He still stuck to the rule of never peeking under the girl's underclothes, but, well he did catch a few looks when the girls took them off themselves. He couldn't stop them from parading around the room starkers, now could he?

So catching a few glimpses of the four girls became another part of his nightly ritual after he practiced Occlumency. For the most part they went about their normal, bedready routines. Only on Thursday nights did they all get together for the weekly fashion show. And if Voldemort did attempt to enter his dreams, the only thing he'd get a view of was Harry judging a hormone-ridden fashion contest, with four lovely Gryffindor girl contestants.

The only unpleasant event that happened in the weeks before the first Quidditch match, was Harry's unavoidable interrogation of the Death Eater he had caught that day in Diagon Alley.

Remembering back to the day he had caught he man, Harry had been so pumped up with adrenaline and excitement, he hadn't even realized how dangerous it was until he had the man hog tied and stunned. It had been pure luck that the Death Eater hadn't put up a fight, and had been subdued so quickly without anyone noticing. Somehow Harry knew that wouldn't happen again.

***FLASHBACK***

After apparating them both back to the Shrieking Shack, where the secret passage that led back to school was located, Harry made sure the man was secure. He wasn't one of the Death Eaters Harry was familiar with. In fact, he looked downright young; maybe only ten years older than himself. Obviously, this wasn't one of Voldemort's inner circle.

After a long trip back to the school and up to Gryffindor tower to get his trunk, and another long trip back to the Shrieking Shack with the miniaturized luggage in his pocket, Harry threw the unconscious man head first into the seventh compartment, and then levitated him towards the empty cell that Wormtail had previously occupied. The stench of Wormtail's waste bucket still hung in the air, which only added to the atmosphere of the blood colored stains and wrought iron shackles attached to the walls. When he woke up, hopefully this man would be plenty scared.

After removing all the man's unnecessary clothes, and checking his body for hidden wands, portkeys, or other magical items, Harry went to throw the man into the cell when he noticed that there was no blemish on the man's forearm. Harry's dark art detector was still buzzing, but where was this man's Dark Mark?

Feeling nauseated, Harry made himself strip the man of all his clothes, and passed his watch over the naked man's body, using the dark detector like a metal detector, looking for Voldemort's mark. It couldn't be seen anywhere on the man's body, and for a moment Harry thought that Voldemort might have found a way to make the mark invisible, when his watch homed in at the back of the man's neck.

The Dark Mark, which still looked the same and was visible as well, was burnt into the base of the man's skull, right above his hairline. It was the man's hair that hid the mark, not any invisibility spell. For a moment Harry wondered why the mark was there, and considered waking the man to ask him, but delayed. It was already late in the day, and Harry still had to make another long trip up through the secret passage, avoid the Whomping Willow yet again as he exited the passage, and walk all the way back up to Gryffindor tower before dinner.

Besides, Harry wanted the man to sweat a little first before he was interrogated. That was the whole reason for the fake blood stains and likewise dingy atmosphere Harry had set up after all. And maybe if he was extremely lucky, Harry would even perfect his Veritaserum, and be able to use it on the unidentified man. Not caring if people noticed the man to be missing from work or from whatever family he had, Harry unceremoniously dumped the man in the empty cell, threw his cloths into a pile in the corner, and shut the door. Only once the door was completely sealed off did Harry Enervate the man, and watch amusedly as he woke up in a dark prison cell, scrambling to cloth himself.

Exiting his trunk, Harry attention was immediately caught by a glowing light and soft whisper coming from another room. Whipping out his wand, Harry shut the trunk closed, before he realized it was just a false alarm. The noise and lights he noticed weren't anything to be alarmed about, it was just the group of wondering spirits he released form the Dementors' all that time ago. Harry and Remus still had no idea how he had done it.

The trapdoor to the secret passage was in one of the smaller rooms of the Shrieking Shack, so Harry made his way into the larger room to finally address the spirits. He had promised them he'd talk to them after school started, and already he was delinquent on that promise by a week. He couldn't avoid them any longer.

The largest room, the one that had been retrofitted years ago to hold Remus during his transformations, was packed tight with the fifty or so spirits he had released that night at Hermione's house. She still didn't know that had happened, and Harry had not intention of telling her anytime soon. It would only worry her.

The spirits had the same translucent appearance they had the night of their release, and as Harry entered the room, the image of the same man he had talked to that night approached him to speak.

All the other spirits gathered around as Harry explained to the man that he still hadn't found out how he'd released them from the Dementors. Harry explained how it was supposedly impossible to destroy one, and so far he'd been unable to replicate the golden patronus he'd used that night.

Some of the older spirits, including the farmer who Remus had talked to, had Harry's conversation translated to them by the others. Some of the more recent spirits, those who had died in only the last century or so, agreed that they knew of nothing that could destroy a Dementor. Truly, they were stumped. At least until Seth spoke up, that was. Harry had almost forgotten that he was the one who told them about a Dementor's creation in the first place.

"Harry, these creaturesss you speak of are the soul-suckers, yesss?" Seth hissed.

Harry agreed. He had to remind Seth that they were called Dementors now, and that when he cast the golden patronus on them, he'd released the spirits they had ingested over the years, who presently had no where else to go.

"And why do they remain on this plane, when othersss move on?" Seth inquired.

Harry had wondered this too, but was only told that the remaining spirits felt like they couldn't move on because they felt tainted by the evil spirits they had been trapped within for so long. It was the same answer Remus had given him that first night, and they really couldn't elaborate. The best answer he got, was that the spirits felt compelled to stay on this plane of existence, to offer aid if at all possible, to atone for the part they had played as part of the Dementors' powers.

Harry explained this all to Seth so that he was up to speed on the situation, and again was stumped on what to do.

"If only I knew how the Dementors were created!" Harry yelled out in frustration. "Then maybe Remus or I could figure out how to erase whatever taint you all feel from them."

The few spirits who talked the most agreed that knowing the spells used to create Dementors would help a great deal, but none of them knew. Even the oldest of the spirits present couldn't remember a time when Dementors were anything more than the mysterious dark creatures they'd always been. The only one who was old enough to remember anything form the time when the Dementors first existed was Seth, and he didn't know anything else, did he?

"Seth," Harry asked cautiously, "do you know which spellsss were used to create Dementorsss? Or soul-suckersss, as you know them?"

There was a long pause before his ensouled ring answered. "Yesss Harry, I know the spell. There wasss only one actually, once the blood ritualsss had been preformed to preserve the dark wizards' spiritssss. My former master shared the knowledge of all the spells he knew with me. I'm also well versed in potion recipesss, rune translationsss, and Arithmancy principlesss. I was his only companion for many yearsss, and he told me a great deal of what he had learned in his lifetime."

Harry could only blink. None of the spirits had understood what the ring said, although quite a few recognized the language as Parseltongue. If they could understand, they would have realized that with Seth's help, it might be possible to do something with themselves much sooner than they previously thought possible. Once again, Harry was amazed at his good fortune.

"Seth," Harry hissed, "why didn't you tell me thisss sooner?"

"You never asked," was the only reply. Harry was so frustrated, he would have strangled his friend if his neck weren't a centimeter wide and made of solid gold. Of all the things.

"Seth, we'll talk about thisss soon. I'll want to know as much about thisss spell and othersss, and all the potion recipesss you can recall as well. Thisss could be the information we've been searching for."

Seth remained quite, as was his habit, and Harry quickly brought the spirits up to speed. The few who still showed emotion looked comforted that they soon might be relieved of the present state of limbo they were currently in. The others only said that it was a good thing, and that they would await further instruction. Until then, they would remain at the Shrieking Shack.

By now, Harry would be late to dinner for certain, so he gave a quick goodbye to the group, put his shrunken trunk in his pant's pocket, and made his way back to Hogwarts. He'd have a busy week ahead of him.

***END FLASHBACK***

It was funny the things he had found out in the days that followed. Seth had recalled the Dementor spell as "Concresco et Vivifiscu ta Infensus Phasma Phasmatis Adimpleo Malus Peror Pessimus Anhelo." Roughly translated, it means "Give life and strong form to these dangerous souls to perform the wicked and great evil deeds that they crave."

Not a nice spell to be sure of, and not the simplest either, but at least Harry had a starting point to work from. Just like the stunning spell he was working on, Harry planed to deconstruct the spell as much as possible, researching each part individually, and then reconstruct it to have the opposite effect. Harry's end goal, after much planning and conferencing with Remus, was to use the spell on the spirits in the Shrieking Shack, to create a sort of "anti-Dementor." It would be another corporeal form, but instead of being inherently evil, it would be inherently good. Harry didn't yet know what types of magical powers or properties the anti- Dementors might have, but he planned to research as much as possible. From the day Seth told him the spell, creating the anti-Dementors had become Harry's top priority. His personal stunner was almost complete, but the final steps could wait. Harry really wanted to get a head start on the bigger challenge.

When he told Remus at first, the older wizard had been stunned. He too never thought to ask Seth if he knew more on the subject, and after another bought of him mumbling to himself about "changing the way the wizarding world thinks," Remus calmed down enough to talk out the problem with Harry.

Remus had no experience with Arithmancy (having taken Ancient Runes instead while at Hogwarts), but promised to do most of the research while Harry concentrated on deconstructing the original spell. Remus didn't see the harm, as long as the research didn't go any farther than just that, research. Under no circumstances, Harry was told, could he try the spell without Remus being present. The results could be too unpredictable, he claimed. Why, instead of creating an anti-Dementor, they could accidentally create a super-Dementor. No, they'd have to research the spell thoroughly, and only then, when all other options had been exhausted, would they attempt the newly reconstructed spell in a controlled environment.

There was also still the matter of all the other long forgotten spells and potions that Seth knew, but Harry wisely decided to put that off till later. One huge task at a time was still more than Harry could handle presently.

Weeks after, Harry and Remus were greatly encouraged by the results they were achieving so far. The spell deconstruction had gone much quicker than the work on the stunning spell, as Harry already had a lot of practice. Plus, Seth proved invaluable, as he too had advanced experience with Arithmancy equations. Remus had cancelled one of the four private tutor session each day, so he'd have more time to spend researching the various spell components Harry had uncovered. Why, with his unrestricted access to all the library's books, as well as the ones Harry had provided him with from his parents' vault, Remus found himself spending hours a day with his nose in a book.

By the week before the first Quidditch game, the spell had been totally deconstructed, and Harry was now joining Remus in general research. Remus had been amazed at how quick Harry had done the work (he still didn't know about the time tuner), but didn't ask too many questions as he greatly appreciated the help with the difficult research.

Because of the importance of researching the spell, as well as just the plain excitement from it, Harry had continually put off interrogating the Death eater he had caught. He or the elves still fed him twice a day, but other than that, Harry didn't pay much attention. For the first week the man had cried almost half the day, while the other time was spent sleeping. When he stopped that, Harry made a short trip via a secret passage and apparition into muggle London to restock his supply of muggle paperbacks. One that first day a fiction book appeared with his meager meal, the man broke down in happiness. Any change to his monotonous schedule was a blessing.

It was the day before the Quidditch game, Friday evening, that Harry finally decided to have a talk with the man he still didn't know the name of. Fresh from a shower after a rather long and comfortable massage/Quidditch captain meeting with Ginny, Harry made his way into his trunk's seventh compartment with a tray of food. It was a feast compared with what the man usually got (not bread and water, but not Beef Wellington either). For some reason Harry was feeling generous, and decided to cook an extra portion of the shrimp stir-fry he made himself for dinner. Besides the colorful array of fresh vegetables and succulent shellfish, there was also steamed rice, a pudding, and a bottle of butterbeer on the platter. Harry hoped the man would appreciate this, and by result would share more information easily.

When Harry showed himself to the man, it had been quite the funny site. The man was squatted over his bucket, going about his business, and at the same time reading one of the books he'd been provided. It took a second for the man to realize that Harry was standing in the doorframe, and he had his dirty pants around his ankles.

Harry laughed, but was still cautious enough to hold the man at wandpoint, as he instructed him to finish his business, wash up with the supply of fresh water he'd had, and back up against the wall. Once done, Harry summoned the shackles attached to the wall, and magicked them onto his prisoner's hands. There was plenty of slack in the chains, but not enough for the man to reach Harry.

Once he was sure that the man wasn't going to attack him, he conjured a comfortable chair for them both, and a small table to put the man's food on. He levitated the tray there, not wanting to get close, and sat back as he watched the man's response. He still hadn't said a word.

The two starred at each other for at least two minutes, when the prisoner finally broke down, sobbing, and asked, "Why are you doing this to me? Where am I?"

Harry almost answered, but caught himself in time, and just told the man to eat, and that they'd talk afterwards. The man hesitated at first, but once he got a whiff of the banquet in front of him, his hungry stomach couldn't resist. He'd not had such a selection of food in over two weeks.

Even thought the man's stomach must have shrank in size during his imprisonment, he still managed to finish everything on his plate, down to the last grain of rice. Only then did Harry speak.

"Before you say anything, let me tell you why you're here. I know that you're a Death Eater, and for me that's enough reason right now to lock you up for life. If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm Harry Potter, so you can imagine I don't care much for you or your master. Normally I'd turn you over to the Ministry to deal with, but currently they have a bumbling idiot as Minster. How he's still in office I have no idea. I also have no doubt that you have high ranking friends in the Ministry, who could either cover up your arrest, or help orchestrate your escape. So until I have more confidence in the capabilities of the Ministry, I've decided that any Death Eaters I come across will me my guests here. If you've read any papers recently, you'll know awhile back I caught Peter Pettigrew, and turned him over to the Ministry recently. He was actually held here until then, in this very cell in fact. I had something to gain from turning him in. I do not have something to gain from you, however. So until I decide to turn you in, which I'm guessing won't be anytime soon, you'll be staying here. Any questions?"

Harry knew he was being cold and ruthless, but somehow he didn't care. No, that wasn't it. It wasn't that he didn't care, it was that he didn't want to show this man that he cared. He wanted the Death Eater to believe that he could care less what happened to him, as long as he stayed locked up. And while the conditions might not be the most comfortable, and the food might not be four star cuisine, it wasn't that bad. It was a far cry from the conditions of Azkaban, which was where the man deserved to be anyways. And besides, although he didn't know it, the elves and Harry were constantly monitoring the man's health and condition every time they fed him or attended to his waste bucket. He wasn't being ignored, he only thought he was.

The man had nothing to say really, once Harry had made his little speech. He tried asking how he'd been caught, and where he was, but Harry wasn't foolish to answer those questions. Anything that could possibly help the man get out of this situation, Harry wouldn't tell him.

After the man gave up, it was Harry's turn to ask questions. The truth serum he slipped into the man's food helped with that. Again, it wasn't Veritaserum, but it was still strong stuff.

The man's name was Sean Hazelton, and he was a junior Ministry worker, only hired a year ago. Just weeks after he began work, he was approached by his uncle to join Voldemort's ranks, and agreed after promises of wealth, power, and influence. The Dark Mark he received on his neck was the new placement Voldemort used for those working in the Ministry. Because a mark on the forearm was too recognizable, and too widely known now, Voldemort had been forced to change his ways for the newer Death Eaters.

Questioned about his crimes, Harry was shocked to find that Sean had so far done very little. Mostly, he just spied on his superiors, and reported relevant information to his uncle, which was his contact to the inner circle of Death Eaters. He himself had only seen Voldemort twice. Once, the night of his induction, and another time at a full member Death Eater meeting. Harry was pleased to learn the number of Voldemort's forces. If Sean was to be believed, which he was while under to influence of the serum, Voldemort now had close to forty Death Eaters, with various other spies and allies that were kept secret from his troops. His inner circle, the Death Eaters Harry was most familiar with, numbered only six now that most of them were back in Azkaban prison. Most of the new forces were young, new recruits like Sean was.

Harry had almost been horrified that he'd treated Sean so badly when he learned that not only was he a new Death Eater, but he hadn't actually done much of anything wrong either. Harry couldn't forgive himself if he imprisoned an innocent person by mistake. He vowed never again to keep a prisoner waiting over two weeks before interrogating them. They might prove to be innocent, or a spy for Dumbledore, which Harry hadn't even thought of.

Thankfully, at least for Harry's conscious, Sean wasn't completely innocent. While in the line of duty of being a Death Eater he hadn't committed anything but white collar crimes, there was still the matter of his initiation, which Harry asked him to describe in detail. Sean broke down again as he replayed the night for Harry, but even though he felt some guilt over his actions, they had still been taken, and they had still been his.

On the night of his initiation, Sean had been forced to pick a muggle family at random, and show them no mercy. The more creative with the torture and pain that they inflicted, the more Voldemort would be pleased. To report on their actions, a senior Death Eater was assigned to each new recruit. McNair had been assigned to watch Sean the night he committed three murders.

Apparating to a random muggle home, Sean had at first used straightforward curses on the married couple and their young teenage daughter. However, not satisfied with cutting curses and simple jinxes, McNair had demanded more. Wanting to get the night over with as soon as possible, Sean had swallowed his own revulsion and continued with much worse.

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Harry was disgusted with the tale the captured Death Eater told admitted too, and if he'd had any reservations or regrets about keeping the man in such bad conditions before, they immediately went away. Vanishing the empty plates and tray, Harry left the cell quickly, not wanting to spend anymore time with the criminal. He'd had enough.

From Sean Harry learned much. He now had Voldemort's force's numbers, the names of a few of the newer Death Eaters, and even a few names of the Ministry spies Voldemort was employing. If each of them had to do initiations similar to what Sean described, Harry was sure he'd have no problems housing a few more inmates. Now he only had to find the time to formulate a plan, and leave the castle, to catch a few more bad guys. He wouldn't rush things, but Harry assured himself he'd continue with his plans. Now more than ever he saw the pure evil that Voldemort and his followers believed in, and he was more convinced his plans were righteous.

However, all that would have to wait. Tomorrow he had a Quidditch game, and Harry wanted to be ready. After all, he and Ginny, and the rest of the team had to show Slytherin who's boss, didn't they? Yes, time for sleep.

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The next morning, it was hard to convince his team to eat a sizeable breakfast, when he wasn't even taking his own advice. Harry hadn't slept well at all the night before, to busy recalling the horrid details Sean Hazelton had described about that innocent family. Harry figured he's gotten about four hours of sleep at best, maybe less. Currently, only Ron was eating a normal amount of food. Or at least, a normal amount for him.

"Come on guys, you'll need you energy out there on the pitch, trust me!" Ron was trying to encourage Frank and young Connie to eat. Neither were looking very well, but Harry put that up to pre-game jitters. He had felt the same way the morning before his first game. So had Ron, as matter of fact.

"He's right, you know," Harry agreed with Ron. "I know eating a lot of food isn't the thing you want to be doing right now, but it will really help with your energy levels once the game begins. Sometimes a game can go on for hours, and if that happens, you don't want to miss out on a meal." Forcing himself to spoon a bowl of porridge, Harry showed the team he was doing the same, even though he privately felt like crap. "Come on, eat up. You'll have to play Quidditch either way, so might as well be healthy about it."

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville all managed decent amounts of food, but the others simply couldn't. A piece of toast and a mouthful of eggs was all they could handle. After a half hour, Harry gave up.

"OK, fine. You've obviously have eaten enough, so let's all head to the locker rooms. Time to suit up and get ready! Ginny and I want to get in a few pre-game laps around the pitch before kick off, so let's move." Ron, Ginny, and Harry got up from their seats, but the rest didn't. They looked too nervous.

Giving them some Weasley encouragement, Ginny yelled, "Now, people!" That worked, and the rest shot to their feet and headed out the Great Hall doors.

Robes had been found for the new team members a week before, so it didn't take long before the team was suited up and gathered on the boy's side of the locker room. That was the largest side, and had the chalkboard and Quidditch pitch model that Harry and Ginny so often used to explain certain maneuvers. They had already had some warm up laps on their brooms, and slowly the newbies were looking more comfortable and confident as the game neared. With only a half hour to go, Harry and Ginny gave their pre-game warm up speech. Ginny went first.

"OK team, this is it! The first game of the season, and we get to show Slytherin that even with having to replace over half out members, that the Gryffindor Quidditch team is still hands down the best team there is! We've practiced long and hard for this game today, and you all earned the robes you're wearing. So I want you to put any doubt you've got about today's game out of your minds, because we're going to kick some snake tail! Are you with me?"

Harry and Ron, and to a lesser degree the others, all yelled out an affirmative.

"That's not good enough! I know for a fact that nobody out there is expecting us to be as good as we are, coming off a year with so many players leaving. Plus we all know Harry's going to be the first one to the snitch! On his new broom, he can't lose! Personally, I can't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face when he sees it! So I say again. I'm up for a serious snake squashing! Are you with me?"

This time the whole team cheered and hollered, pumped up from Ginny's amazing pep rally. Harry didn't know she'd had it in her. Apparently Ron didn't either, judging from the surprised, yet proud look on his face.

"Now that's more like it! That's all I have to say, just make sure you do your jobs, and we'll do just fine. Anything to add, Harry?"

Harry didn't think he could add much more to what Ginny had already said, but felt he had to try.

"Alright everyone, it's just like Ginny said. You'll all here for a reason, and that's because you're the best players for the job. Just do what you're supposed to, and try to ignore Slytherin's dirty tactics as much as possible. We all know they're going to play rough, so I want you to look out for each other today. Beaters, protect our chasers at all costs. Attack their chasers if you get the chance, but don't sacrifice our own team. And don't worry about distracting Malfoy from the snitch. I can take care of him."

Neville and Frank nodded and understanding. It was sound advice going up against a dirty playing team like Slytherin.

"Chasers," Harry continued, "you're going to be the target of most of the attacks today, so be careful. Move fast and steady, and remember what we talked about. Let Ginny take as much of the heat as possible, because she's a strong flier, and has the most experience. Natalie, help her out when you can, but also watch out for Connie. Connie, it's nothing personal, but you're the youngest and smallest player on the team, so I want to protect you at all costs. Slytherin will try to take advantage of you the moment you're unprotected, so we can't let that happen. Besides, we need you to be our secret weapon against them. With you shooting percentage, they won't stand a chance, right?"

Connie Wood shyly smiled, and the rest of the team agreed. They were really getting pumped up, now with only ten minutes left before play.

Harry smiled back. He was almost done. "OK, one last thing. Even though I know we're going to win, if something were to happen to prevent that, I don't care. We all know that everyone expected this to be a rebuilding year for our team, and no one expects us to win the Quidditch cup this year. Now, I personally think that's a bunch of BS, but what I'm trying to get at is this. Even if we should lose today, as long as we have fun and play the way we've trained, I'll be very proud of all of you, as I'm sure Ginny and even Professor McGonagall will as well. Agreed?"

Ginny said yes, and the team cheered again. It felt better not having so much pressure on their shoulders.

Harry grinned and mounted his broom. "Alright then. Now that that's over with, forget what I just said, and mount up. We've got a game to win!"

A few minutes later, the new announcer (Shelby Fitzpatrick, a fourth year Hufflepuff) announced the team, and Harry and Ginny led them out for lap around the pitch before landing next to the Slytherin team and Madame Hooch. The rules and other team had already been announced, and it was time for the Quidditch match to begin.

"Alright players, I want a clean game from all of you. This is the first match of the season, so try to set an example. Everyone understand the rules?" Madame Hooch asked, and they all nodded their heads. The Slytherins somehow managed to make the movement seem insulting.

"OK, captains shake hands." Harry didn't enjoy it, but he didn't want Ginny anywhere near Draco, so he stepped forward to grip the blond boy's outstretched palm. Once he gripped it, Draco held on tight and drew Harry in close.

"I see you haven't even got a proper broom this year, Potter. My, what a shame that your Firebolt went missing. This will make my victory over you even that much more satisfying. Father got me a Firebolt you see, and he even turned up to see me trounce you into the ground. Prepare to lose, Scarheard!"

Harry wasn't too shocked to see that Malfoy did indeed have a brand new Firebolt cradled in his arms. After all, it had been three years since Harry had gotten his, and it was no surprise that Malfoy always wanted the best possible equipment. No doubt, he had begged his father like a little girl until Lucius had finally given in. Too bad Harry's broom was better than a Firebolt, even if it didn't look it. Draco was in for a rude awakening once the snitch showed for the first time.

What did surprise Harry though was Draco's admission that Lucius was in attendance of today's game. After a quick look around, Harry spotted the long blonde hair in the teacher's box, where he had been just a few years before. Why the nerve of him! Sitting with the professors, talking with Snape and Sinistra as if they all didn't know he was a Death Eater. Even Dumbledore, who was only sitting a few seats away, was looking calm and collected. Harry was glad that at least Remus wasn't anywhere nearby. He and Hagrid had chosen to sit with Hermione in the Gryffindor section, so she wouldn't be alone. Hedwig and Rowen were both with her too, one bird perched on each of her shoulders.

Gaining Harry's attention back, Madame Hooch cleared her throat.

"All right players, up in the air with you. And good luck to everyone." Then she blew her whistle.

With that, fourteen players shot up into the air, and Harry headed for his customary spot on top of them all. And just like he always did, Draco was marking him closely, not daring to rely on his own talent to win a Quidditch match. Then suddenly another whistle rang out, the bludgers and snitch were released from their trunk, and the quaffle was thrown into the air. The game had begun!

"New Gryffindor chaser Ginny Weasley takes the quaffle after it's released, and boy can she fly. No surprise there really, since she's a Weasley, and incidentally the first Weasley to play the position of chaser. Anyways, she heads up the pitch, passes to chaser Natalie McDonald, back to Weasley, back to McDon....no! A bludger sent by Slytherin forces McDonald to drop the quaffle, and it's picked up by Slytherin chaser Warrington."

The new announcer didn't have the personal spark that Lee Jordan had had, but maybe he'd get better with time. Regardless, the play by play commentary was enough to keep Harry apprised of the action as his eyes scanned the sky below him. Not trusting Draco for one second, he also kept a wary eye on his opposition. Malfoy would try anything dirty to get to the snitch before he did, and Harry had to be ready.

"Score, Slytherin! Warrington scores the first goal of the season against Gryffindor keeper Ron Weasley, who manages to make an incredible dive towards the quaffle, but just doesn't get there in time. Recovering the ball, Ron passed to his sister, and Weasley takes the ball down the pitch."

What? Slytherin had scored already? Harry only hoped that his team didn't become discouraged at the quick goal made by the other team. If only to make matters worse, the Slytherins began singing the old familiar tune, "Weasley is Our King." Last year had ended with that ditty being the victory call of the Gryffindor team, but the year had started with it miserably. Harry only hoped that the mockery didn't throw Ron off his game.

"Chaser Weasley passes to McDonald just before she dodges that bludger sent by Crabbe, or is it Goyle? I don't know, but one of them sent a bludger Gryffindor way, which Weasley neatly avoided. Now back in possession, Weasley approached the Slytherin goals, and is flying down low to draw the keeper out of the rings. Wait, she's flying up now and is drawing back her arm to take a shot. No, wait! Weasley doesn't have the quaffle! I don't know how she did it, but somehow Weasley managed to pass the ball to third year chaser Connie Wood, and she's taking a shot. Yes! It's through, and we now have a score of 10-10. This looks to be an exciting game, ladies and gentlemen!"

Harry smiled as he heard Connie score. She really was very good, and they had to be careful of not overusing her to make their scores. She was their secret weapon, and Harry didn't want to let onto the school how gifted she really was unless they really needed the points.

Unfortunately after tying the game up, Slytherin started in with their usual tactics. And just as Harry and Ginny predicted, the chaser were their main target.

"Ohhhh, a nasty hit to Gryffindor chaser McDonald by the Slythering team. I don't know if it was the bludger that cracked on the leg, or Goyle's bat itself, but McDonald seems to be shaking off the injury, refusing a time out. That's the spirit. However, in all the confusion Slytherin chaser Montague has the quaffle and is attempting a goal. He's all alone now up against keep Weasley, and shoots...no he feints to the right but shoots to the left. Score, Slytherin! Too bad Ron, you almost had that one. So now the score's 10-20 Slytherin, with still no sign of the snitch. Team seekers Potter and Malfoy are searching desperately, wanting to secure a sure win for their teams. We'll just have to wait and see who spots the snitch first."

The commentator was right too, so far Harry hadn't spotted a sign of the elusive golden snitch, but that wasn't uncommon just yet. It was still early in the game, and there was plenty of time to go. Flying even higher than before, Harry began his normal route of making concentric circles around the pitch, just as he'd been taught first year by Oliver Wood. Malfoy did the same, flying just behind and to the let of Harry, with an evil sneer on his face. Time to do something about that, Harry thought.

"Gryffindor back in possession of the quaffle now, and this time it's McDonald who brings the ball up the field, as chasers Weasley and Wood flying protected by new beaters Neville Longbottom and Frank Sparrow. Both boys are surprising new members of the new Gryffindor team, but captains Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley assure me that they're both excellent beaters. So far, they've done a superb job of protecting their chasers from the questionable tactics of the Slytherin team, but haven't shown us too many offensive moves yet. But I think I see why they're using this tactic. Yes, Natalie Wood draws the Slytherin keeper and beaters out to meet her, and passes to Weasley just at the last second. She shoots....she scores! That ties the game back up at 20-20. So far this had been a very evenly matched game, with Slytherin's strong offense being combated by Gryffindor's defense. It'll all come down to the snitch I think, and yes, I think Potter's spotted it! High atop the crowd Potter is diving towards the Gryffindor goals, with Malfoy hot of his tail. Will he catch up?"

Harry granted himself a small smile as he heard the commentary. Diving towards the ground so fast, he could barely hear it, but he heard enough to know that Ginny had just scored a goal, and Malfoy was right behind him. Harry hadn't really spotted the snitch, he just wanted to teach Malfoy a lesson.

"We're seeing some amazing flying here today folks. Draco Malfoy is chasing after Harry Potter on a brand new Firebolt, but is still unable to catch up to Potter who's flying an unknown broom. Potter's own Firebolt, which we all know was confiscated last year, has yet to be found according to Gryffindor house. No one knows what model he's using now, but whatever it is, is keeping the Slytherin seeker just out of reach. Ohhh, Potter swerves to avoid a bludger sent by Slytherin, but does so spectacularly. I still can't see the snitch from here, but at those speeds, it's no wonder! Malfoy is catching up some now after Potter's near miss, but Potter just changed his course, turning towards the stands now. It looks like they'll fly right over us everyone, so keep your eyes open for the snitch."

Harry had sweat streaking into his eyes, but shook it out of his face as he kept on flying. That bludger sent but Crabbe didn't get even close, but Harry used it as an excuse to draw Malfoy in even closer. Now he was so near Harry, he'd have no time to react to more subtle direction changes.

"What's this? I see a smile on Potter's face as he heads straight towards the professors' box, and he's heading right for them. Malfoy is right behind, and the intense concentration shown on his face is obvious. Never once beating Potter to the snitch since his seeker started, we all know he really wants this victory. Potter's just a few meters away now, and still no sign...wait, Potter changes coarse just barely to avoid a collision with some of the professors in the box, and Malfoy doesn't see it in time! He must have been concentrating on Potter! Ohhhh, that looks like it hurts! Ladies and gentlemen, Draco Malfoy has just flown right into an unknown number of professors in the stands, and only just managed to avoid plowing himself into the seats. And the hit adults appear to be none other than Professor Snape, and Malfoy senior, Draco's father. Both men seem to be alright, but Draco has taken a serious hit to the side, and only managed to fly away after the glancing collision with the two men. Slytherin team calls for a time out."

Yes, it had worked just like Harry wanted it too. Instead of trying a Wronski Feint so early in the game, Harry had instead just flown towards the stands, and because Draco was just a little bit above and to the left of Harry, he'd been unable to see just where they were heading. Harry had steered Draco directly at the conversing forms of Snape and Lucius Malfoy, and had managed to steer away at the last moment. As Slytherin called their time out, Harry made his way back over to the professors' box, and flew right up to the two men.

"Alright there Professor Snape? You really should be more careful you know, Quidditch is a dangerous sport. And with Malfoy on a Firebolt, as unskilled as he is, that's just an accident waiting to happen."

"Why you little brat! You did that on purpose!" Lucius Malfoy screamed out.

"Now now Mr. Malfoy, don't get your knickers in a twist! It was a harmless accident. Harmless for me at least. I see no reason to get snippy. Lovely to see you by the way. I'm sure you're just here to send your master's best regards, aren't you?" Harry couldn't help himself. At first he only wanted to embarrass the man, but now, in his face, Harry couldn't help but tear into him.

In the presence of so many adult witnesses, Malfoy couldn't properly retort with his usual death threats, so instead he just huffed and bit his tongue. When most of the crowd turned away, he said softly, "I'm sure I'll be seeing you again real soon Potter, and then we can discuss that to great lengths."

"Now Lucius, why don't you settle down to enjoy the game." Dumbledore broke in. "It appears your son is looking much better, and I believe play will recommence soon enough. That goes for you as well, Mr. Potter. I believe your team is waiting for you on the ground.

Harry didn't have anything else to say, so he flew away. He had done what he wanted, which was to show Malfoy and the rest of the Death Eaters he wasn't afraid of them. Job done, Harry headed down to the pitch, where Ginny and the rest were waiting.

"Blimey Harry, that was some good flying. And Malfoy plowed right into his old man! Well done!" Ron was ear to ear grin. Hopefully, this would get him out of the slump he'd started the game off with.

"Thanks Ron. How's everybody else doing?"

Connie was starting to warm up some, and Natalie had finally shook off the rest of the pain from her bludger hit. Her leg would have a large bruise later on she was sure, but at least nothing was broken. Ginny was also in good spirits after Draco's accident, and felt up for some of the more difficult moves the chasers had developed.

Frank and Neville, on the other hand, were quickly tiring out. Not only were both Crabbe and Goyle hitting bludgers merciless at the Gryffindor chasers, but the beaters themselves were aiming their bats and brooms at the girls, as were all the Slytherin. Protecting their team from such dirty play was exhausting them completely, and Harry didn't think they could last like this for very much longer.

"Alright. Frank, Neville, just keep up as best you can, and protect Natalie and Connie the most. Ginny can take some extra heat, and I'll try to draw their fire as well. I know it'll be tough, but do your best. Next team practice, I see we'll have to add some endurance training to the list. Agreed?" They did, and when Madame Hooch's whistle blew, the team went back up in the air, and resumed play.

Draco was much slower and cautious this time, but still marked Harry as he flew high above the pitch. Neville and Frank were doing their best, but he could see that they wouldn't last much longer. Knowing Draco would follow him wherever he flew, Harry had an idea, and maneuvered them both between the Slytherin beaters and the Gryffindor chasers. That helped a little, but not much.

Over the next two hours, Slytherin got called on five fouls, all for cobbing, blatching, skinning, and stogging. Normally the penalty shots awarded to Gryffindor would have been a great opportunity to advance the scoring, but unfortunately all those penalties were against the Gryffindor chasers. They were so beat up and sore from the Slytherin roughhousing, that of the five penalty shots, only one was made.

The bad mood seemed to make the chaser's teamwork fall apart as well. Connie was forgetting her hand signals, Ginny tried to take on too much responsibility by attracting all the bludgers which banged her up plenty, and Natalie began to get flustered and was dropping the quaffle way too often. They still continued to score, but not nearly as often as the Slytherin's did

"And that's goal to the Slytherins! Making the new score 220-90, in favor of Slytherin. Keeper Ron Weasley is doing an amazing jog so far today, managing to block so far eighteen shots after his dismal beginning, but a single man can only do so much. Gryffindor beaters have long since exhausted themselves, and with the Slytherins' constant attacks on the chasers of Grffindor, the lovely trio of ladies just don't have the spirit or energy to keep up. If Gryffindor is going to win this game, it'll all come down to their seeker, Harry Potter. Hurry up Harry, you can do it!"

Shelby was right too. Ron was doing an amazing job keeping the constant stream of goals out of his set of rings, but it was hard to do when every time he passed the quaffle to one of the chasers, they either drooped the ball, or were fouled and missed the penalty shot. Harry expected there were more shots taken against Ron in just this one game, than in all of last year's combined.

Knowing he needed to end this soon, Harry gave up completely on his distractionary tactics, and really started to hunt out the snitch. The girls would just have to deal without having his extra protection, and do their best. As long as Slytherin didn't score another three goals before Harry caught the snitch, Gryffindor could still manage a win.

But being the thorn in Harry's side that he was, Draco spotted the new attitude, and made to stop him. Ever since he flew head first into his father, managing to turn just a little to avoid killing them both, Draco had been laying low, while instructing his team to play as dirty as possible. He didn't care how many fouls were called, as long as the Gryffindor chasers were too bruised and battered to make decent shots. And the greatest thing about fouls were, the referee's eyes could only be at one spot at any given time. So while Crabbe was roughhousing one chaser to gain Madame Hooch's attention, Goyle made sure to swing his beater bat at another player, causing as much injury as possible. All of Slytherins' assaults were organized into double attacks.

Harry frantically searched for the snitch, but Draco kept flying right in front of him, making Harry veer of course and take his eyes off the sky. It was an extremely childish behavior, but a successful one. Harry couldn't concentrate on his job, and Draco's tactics (he wasn't even bothering to look for the snitch now) gave the rest of his team more opportunity to score. Slytherin scored three more goals before Draco finally got called on a foul.

"And Madam Hooch calls a skinning foul against Malfoy, for flying directly towards Potter. Luckily Potter manages to avoid the incident, and Gryffindor is awarded a penalty shot, but the damage had been done. Draco's petty flying had given his team the opportunity to drive the score out of Gryffindor's reach. Unless chasers Weasley, McDonald, and Wood can get back on their game, this match is all but over folks."

Connie managed to make the penalty shot, but it still didn't matter. Slytherin had more than a 150 lead on the Gryffindors, and Harry didn't get the feeling that his team was about to make a comeback. Just like Krum did in the Quidditch World Cup match he witnessed, Harry vowed to catch the snitch as soon as possible. Slytherin would still win, but at least Harry would manage to keep Malfoy from catching the snitch, and prevent them from running the score up even higher.

Ten minutes later, with another goal from Connie, but another two from the Slytherins, Harry saw the glint of gold in the corner of his eye. Not bothering with pretense, Harry shot right after it.

"Wait, it looks like Harry Potter's seen the snitch! Yes, Malfoy sees it to, and both seekers fly up towards the Ravenclaw stands, chasing after the small....wait, the snitch takes a sharp turn and is now heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts! Malfoy was so bent on flying fast, he missed the snitch as it flew right under him! He still manages to turn around neatly though, and now he has a twenty foot lead on Potter. With only a dozen yards to the snitch, I don't see how Potter can possibly catch up to Malfoy's Firebolt. I think the end is near, folks!"

Harry didn't think so, though. Malfoy had been stupid enough to miss the snitch as it passed directly under him, and that had given him a chance to catch up. Walter Whigman had promised that his new broom could fly about twenty five mph faster than a Firebolt could, and now Harry was using that extra speed to get closer to Draco. By the time they passed the middle of the field, Harry had cut that distance in half.

"I don't believe it folks! Somehow, don't ask me how, Potter is gaining on Malfoy! That broom he's flying looks like a rotted log, but whatever model it is, it can sure fly! Now closing in on the snitch, Potter is pulling up neck and neck with Malfoy, and the two seem to exchanging some words as the snitch changes course yet again, and is now arcing back up towards to sky."

"Potter, how can you bloody well fly so fast on that ruddy thing?" Draco was screaming out as they pelted after the snitch. Harry had just pulled up along side of the blonde haired boy, and was now starting to overtake him. The look on Malfoy's face, if Harry had chanced to see it, would have been priceless. Malfoy just couldn't believe he was being beaten by Harry Potter yet again, and this time when he was clearly flying what he thought was the superior broom.

Harry heard Draco's comment, but chose not to answer. Doing so would break his concentration, and he needed that snitch. Slytherin was already ahead by twenty points, and they were also currently in possession of the quaffle just underneath him. Harry didn't want to give them any more points.

"Harry Potter now has the lead on Slytherin seeker Draco Malfoy, and is still moving further ahead into the lead! I can't hear what Malfoy is screaming, but whatever it is doesn't look too pleasant. Now a full broom length ahead, Harry Potter....no wait, Malfoy attempts a bladging! He's trying to grab the end of Potter's broom, but Potter just shakes him off. Amazing! What's more, it looks like the attempt moved Malfoy off course, and he's lost precious feet now as he now realigns his broom. It's too late though, folks! Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Slytherin team wins the game, but Potter loses on his own terms by catching the snitch! Final score, 260-280 Slytherin!"

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AUTHOR NOTES:

Ok, so that's the latest chapter. As the title promises, a whole lot of Quidditch, and some other stuff. I don't think I'm as good at writing a Quidditch games as other writer's I've read, but I don't think I did to bad of a job. Probably too much detail, like everything else I write, but I'll try to work on that for the next game. I hope this answers some questions you all had, especially about that mysterious Death Eater, and who he was. Not a nice guy, that Sean Hazelton. I hope that I didn't overdo the descriptions of his initiation night, but I wanted to show the Death Eaters for what they really are. This is the first time I'm also taking advantage of my PG-13 rating, so please tell me if you think it's appropriate. And don't tell me that Harry is a pervert for looking through his wall. Any teenage boy out there (and probably most girls too) given the opportunity would do the same exact thing! I can say though, that this chapter is about as graphic as the violence and sexual misconduct in this fic will get. Also, I hope all those shippers out there finally enjoyed some closer Harry/Ginny moments. They're not together yet, but hopefully you can see how I'm forming that relationship. And admit it, when we were all that age, we all loved to give and receive massages from members of the opposite sex. Why, I remember one time at band camp, me and my friends got into a massage train, sitting one behind another, and....well, never mind, you get the idea. We also get to learn more about the released spirits and what will happen to them. Yay!!!! I've been planning this "anti-Dementor" thing for a long time now, and it's another of those "Hedwig becomes a phoenix" ideas I've been coveting. I hope it turns out alright. I also dropped a hint in this chapter as to the reason why Harry is able to cast a golden patronus. Any takers? Let me know if you think you've got the answer. And last but not least, we get to see Seth a little bit more too, after a long sabbatical lasting the last few chapters. No I didn't forget him, he's just a man of very few words. Profound words yes, but very few. That's about it for now, except for one small correction I want to make about the last chapter. I forgot to mention that the Centaur Liason Office, which I shipped Percy Weasley off too, came from Barb LP's trilogy. Now I've been told that the office is actually cannon, and not her original idea, but that it's only mentioned in JKR's book "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them." Since I've never read that book (horror, I know, what type of fan am I?), I'd still like to give credit to Barb for the idea. She used it first after all. So long folks, and don't hate me for making Gryffindor lose it's first Quidditch game. It's not the end of the season, you know. Bye!

UPDATE: To avoid the risk of my fic being removed for being too graphic and going beyond a PG-13 rating, I've just cut out more of the Death Eater interrogation that takes place in this chapter. To see the complete, unedited version, please read this chapter as posted in my Yahoo! Group.

Kipkirenshy – Yes, Harry is aging faster because of his time traveling. On the train to school he mentions that he just hopes people think of his extra height/weight as a normal growth spurt. Now, instead of being the runt of his year, he's an average size. A member of the yahoo group also pointed this out, which I hadn't thought of. Because the life expectancy of a wizard is more than a muggle, they must age more slowly than we think. After all, Dumble can't really look 150ish and still be powerful, now can he. So naturally, Harry's aging isn't as pronounced.

Coolpadfoot – You're not the first one to complain about my portrayal of Hermione, and all I can say is, I haven't really gotten a chance yet. I have a lot of stuff planned for her after the Xmas holiday, but until then, she's just sort of there. I will try harder to develop her more though. I added a few things around her Bday party this chapter that I thought was interesting. For instance, Herm is the exact type of person I see saving wrapping paper from gifts.

Hg/HrRFan4ever – The joke is this. Ron had just asked Harry if he got caught breaking school rules yet, within the first two weeks of class. This is normally a Hermione thing to say, hence the joke, "Hermione?" Harry was just making fun of Ron's abnormal motherly concerns.

Molly Morrison – Harry wasn't allowed in 6th year Arithmancy because he hadn't passed his OWL in the subject. I think it's a school rule. And he can't take the OWL presently, because they're a standardized test, and I get the feeling they're only administered once a year. So Harry will just have to suffer for now w/ Ginny, and wait to take the tests at the end of the year. But Vector will catch on eventually.

Perfection Unattainable – In cannon there has never been any mention of other UK schools, so I'm writing under the impression that Hogwarts is the only one. Stan admits to not going to Hogwarts in PoA, but never mentions another school. And I think the size of the Ministry fits well into my projected number of magical people in the UK. If there are 6,000-8,000 of them (which I believe-see Ch. 15 AN for math), then the Ministry could easily employ anywhere from 200-1,000 people. I know that's a high number for normal government, but the MoM must keep the muggles from noticing their world, so I don't see it as improbable. And as we know from cannon, each department is small. Arthur Weasley is only one of two wizards in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Dept, and if Percy can get such a good position in Foreign Affairs right out of school, that leads me to believe that that dept. isn't too large either. And even in cannon, the only magical jobs we here about are merchants, Ministry personal, professors, Quid players, and a few random others. The job market is severely limited in the magical world, because they have no need for farmers/laborers/etc. That's my two cents.

Tessa & Teazer- I notice that too, but I'm trying to correct. As I've said from the beginning, I'm not a great writer, so please forgive my lack of proper development. I'm doing the best I can, and can only promise to try and get better.

SetsunaFanGirl – Welcome back my very first reviewer! I've been wondering if you were still around. To answer you're question, Harry's copy of "Hogwarts: A History" has been hollowed out to hold his time tuner, and he didn't want Hermione to pick up the book, because we all know she would have flipped through it. Harry hasn't told his friends about the time tuner yet, so that's why he got nervous until he realized the book was hidden.

Lynette – I don't think there are any laws concerning transfiguration and/or conjuring, because that's the way I suspect most wizards to work. And no, magical shops wouldn't go bankrupt, because there's no mention in cannon about stores that sell furniture, or anything simple like that. All magical shops seem to sell enchanted items that have magical properties, and those are impossible to transfigure/conjure. The way I guess, there are limits on transfiguration and conjuring. Wizards can't make money/jewels/precious metals/magical items/living lifeforms/and more complex foods. That's just my idea of how the whole thing works though. Even in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, there's nothing like a furniture department, or a hardware store. I think this is one of the most misunderstood things in all of HP fanfiction. I hate it when I read that Harry decided to eat lunch or dinner at some swank new restaurant in Diagon Alley, or goes to some club. Where in cannon does it ever mention those types of shops!?! Sorry, I'm trying to stay true to JKR, and this is one of those things that I think she needs to explain about her world better. Maybe in book 6 or 7? We'll see.

Lauren – The Centaur Liaison Office I imagine is an offshoot of the Ministry for Regulation of Magical Creatures, just like the office to register Animagi is. Of course none of these ideas are cannon, but it's just where I imagine they are. And the whole reason the centaur office was created, was not to make actual attempts at treaties with centaurs, but just to shuffle unwanted Ministry personal

Orion Potter – No, James Potter was a chaser in the books. But for some reason they changed him to a seeker for the movies. I don't know why they did that, and I really hate it.

Samyjoc – Who says Harry automatically would be made captain just because he's the only member of the original Oliver Wood team? There's never been any method supplied in cannon, so I imagine it could work any number of ways. Normally I'd say the team would get to vote on their captain, but this year it was different. With only three returning members, and Ron not eligible, McGonagall decided to ask Harry and Ginny privately in her office.

Harry Potter Jr. – What Harry Potter story would be complete without a Voldemort/Harry confrontation at the end? Of course I'm going to have one!

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