Note: Only one chapter this week, and it was so nearly non-existent. I am mega-stressed from coursework and revision, and when my brain decided that it wasn't going to hold any more Mhd, I then had the dreaded block. Luckily, as soon as I made myself write this, the block disappeared and I got 1300 words done in 42 minutes. (Added to my woes, Dracula decided to take up residence in my head and proceeded to dispatch all the Harry Potter characters in rapid succession…)

Note2: I finally managed to get in a veiled reference to Spooks. Points for anyone who can recognise it.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Impropriety of Normality

"Harry? Harry?"

It was only when Ginny snapped her fingers in front of his face that Harry realised that she had been speaking to him. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that everything in his immediate vicinity had melded into a muddy background. Suddenly Ginny was pulled into sharp relief, her hair positively flaming against the dark green of the quidditch pitch. It was the first Saturday of the new term and the team trials were about to get underway. Having unofficially appointed Ginny as his second-in-command when the term began, Harry had not given the matter much thought, but he knew that the captain of the team could not shy away from his duties entirely, and he was going to have to concentrate on picking players if the Gryffindor team was going to hold any chances of holding onto the cup.

The trouble was, Harry was finding it exceedingly hard to concentrate. The initial euphoria at being back at Hogwarts with his friends had eventually worn off and he now had far too much to think about, none of it related to academia. Indeed, during the past few days of lessons it had been obvious that his mind was everywhere except his work. Professor McGonagall had given up trying to get his attention in her class and had made up for it with a thorough talking-to afterwards.

"Potter," she had sighed, "I know you have a lot on your plate at the moment but we all do. For Merlin's sake will you put a little more effort into stopping your thoughts from wandering through the fields of dreamland like a malcontent little pony!"

Harry did not begrudge her the new-found snappiness, after all, she was now doubly burdened with two full time jobs within Hogwarts, but that still didn't make it any easier to concentrate, not when he knew everything that was going on outside the castle. All the horrors that were being perpetrated by the new corrupt Ministry, all the lengths that the Order was going to in order to try and locate and destroy the horcruxes… It seemed wrong to be simply going on as if nothing had happened, to continue daily life within the formidable security that Hogwarts provided and ignore the terrors on the outside.

"Harry!" snapped Ginny. "Quidditch tryouts!" She pushed him onto the pitch before she lost him again, and Harry took a deep breath to clear his mind of clutter and focus on the task at hand. Once the first flyers were in the air and Harry was circling round them, observing and making mental notes, he found that coherent thought came a lot more easily. Hermione had said before that quidditch was in his blood, and flying was second nature to him. He was just as at home in the air as he was with both feet on the ground; he could not help but enjoy quidditch; it was a part of him.

The trials ran in much the same way as the previous year, although the new fifth-years had not returned to the team, wanting to focus on their OWL studies instead. Harry did not begrudge them their decision, but he knew that it was one that he simply would not have been able to take. There were the usual first-years from long-running wizarding backgrounds who thought they might have an advantage, and then simply sat on their school brooms in awed silence as they watched the far superior skills of their elders. And, of course, there was the one who tried out for a laugh and turned out to be so good that he made the team. Arnold Pimkin, a fourth-year, was so shocked when Harry announced the new team that he stood with his mouth hanging open for a full minute whilst his friends cheered and slapped him on the back, and even then, his only word was 'blimey!'

It was only as the sun began to go down and the pitch began to clear that Harry's mind returned to its previous turbulent state. He sat down in the stands, staring moodily out over the hoops as Ginny and Dean took the balls back to Madame Hooch's office. Ron sat down beside him, nursing an icepack conjured by Hermione against his head where a would-be chaser had aimed with rather too much force and he ad not been able to duck quick enough as the quaffle had come hurtling towards his right ear with the speed and ferocity of a bludger. Harry had entertained the notion of putting the enthusiastic player on the team with the sole aim of concussing the opposing keeper, but on narrow-eyed glance from Ron had told him that this would probably not be such a profitable idea.

"It's a good team this year," said Ron as he shifted the icepack. "I think our chances of hanging onto our crown are good."

Harry grunted non-commitally.

"Honestly mate, if the only time you think straight is in the air then we might have to get Hermione to perform some sort of permanent levitation charm on you."

Harry managed a wan smile at Ron's words.

"It just seems so wrong," he said eventually, finally realising the need to share his bottled and jumbled up feelings with a fellow.

"I know what you mean," said Ron. He leant back against the benches and looked up at the beginning of a bright full moon. "I mean, somewhere out there, Lupin's out looking for horcruxes as a wolf, and we're just sitting here watching the moon. But seriously Harry, do you think we aren't feeling exactly the same way? Everyone in this castle, apart from maybe a handful of muggle-born first years, knows what's happening out there and knows how lucky we are to be away from it all. But you can't beat yourself up over it. No-one's going to take you seriously if you go around brooding like a wet weekend all the time. If we all did that then there'd be someone jumping off the astronomy tower every five minutes, and Professor Sinistra would be having kittens. Ok, I know we've got slightly more to worry about than most, but we've still got to get on with life. Show You-Know-Who that no matter what happens, life's going to go on as normal and there's nothing that he can do to stop it."

"It's a better way Harry, honestly." Ginny sat down on his other side, following their gaze to the silent orb hanging in the sky above them. "Staying positive is half the battle, really. You know what they say. Dum spiro spero."

Harry nodded, the Latin sentiment somehow seeming to sum up the mindset of the school, of the Order. While I live, I hope. They all still had their lives, the most precious commodity that they could possess, and as such they were already better off than the hundreds who had fallen victim to Voldemort in the past year. It was not the best thought to begin a new positive outlook with, reflected Harry grimly, but it was a start. They were alive, and for the time being, they could enjoy being alive. Perhaps the time for worrying could come later and Harry was merely making things prematurely difficult for himself.

"Harry," Ginny urged, "you've got to take this opportunity to live a fairly uninhibited life whilst you still have it. At the end of the year you'll leave Hogwarts and be thrust out into the world, and then the worrying will really kick in. At the moment, there's nothing you can do so sitting around moping and feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help anyone."

"I know," Harry conceded.

"It's not exactly going to make you feel any better about the whole thing, is it?" Ginny's tone was beginning to hold the nuances of irritation in it; Harry could tell that she had been saving up this speech for the entire week and had only now found the opportunity to release it with the appropriate force. "And the rest of us have to put up with your depression. It's almost palpable, Harry; you carry it around with you like a little black cloud. Some of us want to get on with life."

Harry looked to Ron for support against Ginny's miniature tirade, but Ron had obviously learned that his sister was a force to be reckoned with when it came to telling it like it was and just shrugged his acceptance of her words.

"She's got a point, mate," he said. "You have been walking around with your head in some very dismal clouds this week and it hasn't gone unnoticed."

Harry thought back to Professor McGonagall's words after her lesson; and to the pep talk that Ron had given him only a few minutes before. Everyone else seemed to be coping perfectly well, and if he was going to get anything done this year, he was going to have to as well. A small, snide part of his brain asked him what the point of it all was; after all, as soon as he left Hogwarts to go into the big wide world where his qualifications could be useful, there wouldn't exactly be much big wide world left for his qualifications to be useful in, so what was the point of trying to carry on a normal existence? He quickly pushed this thought to the back of his mind, fearing Ginny's reaction should he even so much as attempt to give a whisper of voice to it.

"That's why I think you should go back to the DA," she finished presently.

Harry didn't reply. Neville had approached him about the possibility of reforming the DA during the first day of lessons, when they realised that Defence Against the Dark Arts was really going to be nothing of the sort. Harry had not really been listening – he hadn't been listening to all that much during the past week – but it was clear that Neville was worried about the younger years, who hadn't had the benefits of Dumbledore's Army from its first inception and therefore were lacking in the most basic of defensive skills. When Harry had expressed his doubts, Neville had simply taken it upon himself to reform the group himself, and the first meeting was scheduled for that evening. Harry wasn't quite sure what Neville was planning to do once he had all the old members reformed in the Room of Requirement again, but what his friend lacked in skill, he more than made up for in determination and enthusiasm. Harry wondered at the different effects that the war had had on the both of them. Whilst he had retreated into his shell and the company of his own thoughts, so Neville had done the opposite, surprising them all with his new-found self-confidence and decisiveness.

"I think I ought to go to the hospital wing," said Ron suddenly and pointedly after a few moments of silence had encompassed them. "Get this seen to by a professional. Not that Hermione's not a fantastic witch, but, well, you know… " He trailed off and left them, waving vaguely as he went and promising to see Ginny at the DA meeting later. Ginny rolled her eyes, the action mimicking Harry's thoughts exactly. Ron had never been the paragon of subtlety, and it was obvious that he was only using the hospital wing as an excuse to leave the other two alone together. On realising that they were indeed alone together, all the would-be players and spectators having long-since left the stands, Ginny shifted uncomfortably. After a summer of politely avoiding each other and avoiding the question of the relationship that they currently held, it was strange to be suddenly thrown together like this again. Harry found it ironic that in the Weasleys' cramped house, they could lose each other quite easily and go days without seeing the other, as soon as they were in a place so vast that getting lost was a timetabled occurrence, they ended up in the same space more often than could be called coincidence. They were going to have to talk about it at some point, but for now, Harry was happy to put off the inevitable conversation for as long as possible. As awkward as they were now, though, they were perfectly civil on the pitch. Perhaps it was because quidditch was just as big a part of Ginny's life as it was Harry's, an entity that was bigger and more powerful than them both, and as such they both bowed to its greatness and put its needs before their own personal foibles.

"So, have we managed to talk some sense into you now?" asked Ginny presently. "Because I meant every word. It's not fun living with anyone's angst, least of all yours."

Harry nodded.

"I know. It all makes sense. It's just…"

She patted him on the shoulder gently.

"Your problem, Harry, is that you're determined to make life difficult for yourself. I've noticed this over the years. Sometimes you've just got to let other people do the worrying."

It was then that she realised she was still holding his shoulder, and she broke away suddenly.

"I'd best go and see how Ron is," she said, standing up and beginning to move down the stands. "You know how melodramatic he can be. He's probably telling Madame Pomfrey he was attacked by twenty-six rogue bludgers. I'll have to set the record straight." She paused, peering back up at him. "Maybe we'll see you tonight?"

Harry nodded. Maybe, in the wake of everything that had happened and in the wake of the conversation that he had just had, the DA was the way forward, the way to make a difference and, for as long as he still lived, to carry on hoping.

Note3: Well, I hope you enjoyed. I felt I needed a chapter from Harry's POV detailing what he'd be feeling having been diddled out of his horcrux hunting mission, but I don't plan on staying in this mode much longer as the whole point of C&I was to reduce the amount of teenage angsting. Hence Ginny's mini-explosion there…