The Wizengamot
The map had not been there.
Despite Filch's efficiency of labelling the drawers of confiscated contraband by year, the piece of parchment was not to be found in any of them that should have contained it.
Had the man simply thrown it away, mistaking it for nothing more than a piece of parchment?
It was likely, and though Harry was disappointed, he could not afford to invest so much time into looking for it.
The map would have been a useful addition and could have helped find Pettigrew, if he was still in the castle.
Harry wasn't so sure he was.
If the man possessed any semblance of intelligence, he would be long gone by now.
He had written to Sirius urging him to remain hidden, that if the rat did return, he would inform him, even if he wasn't certain it was the wisest course of action.
Harry didn't wish for his godfather to be on the run, but it was considerably better than spending the rest of his life with the Dementors of Azkaban.
Sirius's response had been one of understandable frustration with a promise to not do anything foolish.
That remained to be seen, and with today being reserved for something else of importance, Harry needed to focus on the task at hand.
Sirius and his plight would have to be put on hold, momentarily, at least.
Harry checked his reflection in the mirror before releasing a calming breath. He'd never truly made an effort to tame his messy crop of hair, but the occasion seemed to call for it.
He was nervous, that he wouldn't deny, yet he knew often it was necessary to stand up and be counted to ensure an injustice did not occur.
He'd learned that from watching the lives of the Peverell men; Ignotus, Gawain, and even Arthur had done what was necessary to protect the people they cared for.
Now, it was Harry's turn.
It had been Hagrid who had pulled him from the ruins of the Potter home the night Voldemort came for them. It had been Hagrid who had gifted him the few precious photos of his parents that he possessed.
It wasn't merely that Harry felt he owed the gentle giant more than he could give him, but also because he aspired to be like the strong men he had come to respect.
The Peverells would not have stood idly by and allow the likes of Lucius Malfoy to get their way, and from what little Harry knew about his father, James Potter wouldn't either.
There seemed to be so few willing to support Hagrid in his time of need, but Harry would.
Attempting to tidy his uncooperative hair once more, he decided it would not be tamed and shifted his attention to the robes he had purchased for his appearance in front of the Wizengamot.
They were not too dissimilar from his school robes, though these were cut in a dressier fashion and lacked the colours that singled him out as a Gryffindor.
It was Nicholas that had suggested he obtained them, and it wasn't until Harry had explained to the man what he intended to do that he fully understood the gravity of the outcome.
Flashback
"Well, I must say that your Occlumency skills are coming among very nicely, Harry," Nicholas praised. "It would take a keen Legilimens to break into your mind, and it would be no easy task."
"But I'm not there yet," Harry pointed out.
"You are not," Nicholas agreed, "but you will be. You're progress is exceptional."
Harry nodded, doing his best to not feel disheartened.
He knew that delving into the Mind Arts was a lifelong journey, that his efforts in both Legilimency and Occlumency would need to be maintained and developed in perpetuity.
It had been two years now of daily practice, and though he felt he had accomplished many milestones, he was still far from where he needed to be.
"Are you sure you are ready to face the Wizengamot?" Nicholas broke in, unable to hide the concern in his voice. "You will be going against perhaps the most influential person that has a seat on it."
Harry nodded.
"I am," he murmured. "I have to."
Nicholas offered him an encouraging smile.
"I'm sure you will perform admirably."
"Perform?"
Nicholas chuckled.
"Oh, Harry, I do enjoy the innocence of youth," he sighed. "Politics is all smoke and mirrors. It is all about who can put on the best performance. To succeed in politics, you must become the puppet master and pull the strings of those you wish to manipulate. The truth can prevail, of course, but a lie told with the necessary flair will often outshine it. Politics is a filthy business and rarely relies on truth. It relies on either being gifted enough with words that you can weave an incredible tapestry of deceit that is believed, or it relies on being a titan that others fear to cross. Lucius Malfoy is both of those things, unfortunately."
"So, what do I do?"
"You beat him at his own game," Nicholas said with a grin as he took Harry by the shoulders. "You have the shield of truth and the sword of justice, but you also have the benefit of him fearing you."
"Fearing me?"
Nicholas nodded.
"He believes that you are the reason his master is dead. You, inadvertently albeit, was the cause for his near downfall. He will not forget what happened, nor what you could become in only a few short years. At worst, he will be very cautious of you, Harry."
"But how do I use that?"
"Like I said, you beat him at his own game," Nicholas reiterated. "You stand strong and unflinching. You must be resolute and fearless. Make him believe that he has woken a monster that cannot be bribed or cowed. Sometimes, the world needs a monster to defeat one that already plagues it, Harry. I fear that it is your destiny to become just that. Many monsters lay in your path to peace. You must slay each one as you encounter it or they will consume you, as is the way of all our demons."
"Become a monster," Harry whispered.
"When you must," Nicholas urged. "Now, let us discuss the finer details. Some may seem unnecessary, but each is as important as the next."
"How do you know all this?" Harry asked curiously.
Nicholas grinned.
"You didn't think that I've spent more than six centuries on this planet without involving myself in a few political affairs?"
"Of course, you have," Harry snorted.
Nicholas smiled innocently, but Harry was not convinced by it.
He had come to know the man too well to be fooled by his insincere gestures.
"Firstly, we must discuss how you present yourself. Dress robes. Do you have any?"
End Flashback
Harry could not be more grateful of the alchemists input.
It had been something of a very basic rundown of how he should comport himself, but he knew he would do much better now than he would have had he not sought out Nicholas's advice.
Again, Harry felt the nerves set in as he looked towards the clock.
The appeal hearing was due to begin shortly after 8am, and he still needed to meet Hagrid, though the man didn't know to expect him yet.
He had not informed anyone of his plan other than those he had discussed it with, and those had been chosen very carefully.
Releasing a final breath to calm himself, Harry gathered up the pieces of parchment he had accumulated over the past week and took his leave of Gryffindor Tower, pleased that it was too early for most members of the house to be up, let alone in the Common Room.
He met no one as he made his way through the castle and found it to be a rather pleasant day as he walked across the grounds towards the hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry hoped it was a good omen for the day ahead.
"Harry, what are you doing here?" Hagrid questioned as he opened the door.
"It's the appeal day, isn't it?"
Hagrid offered him an appreciative smile, though it did nothing to hide the mixture of sadness and nervousness he felt.
"You don't have to come for that," the large man murmured, shaking his shaggy head. "Hermione, bless her, has given me lots of stuff to use," he added, pointing to a stack of parchment on the table.
It only took one look at the pile for Harry to know it would serve no purpose.
The members of the Wizengamot would not be patient enough to listen to whatever Hermione had gathered.
If they were intimidated by Malfoy or in his pocket, no amount of references to previous cases would help.
As ever, Hermione had been meticulous, and as Harry picked up the several sheets of parchment, he was impressed, even if her efforts had been for nothing.
"What do you think your chances are?"
Hagrid shrugged.
"Not good," he sighed. "They won't change their minds."
A loud squawk and the sound of beating wings could be heard outside the hut, and as Harry peered through the window, he caught sight of the restless Hippogriff.
"Beaky knows," Hagrid choked.
Harry reached up and patted the man on the back of his arm, the highest point he could reach.
"We will see about that," he offered comfortingly. "How are we getting there?"
"The Knight Bus will do it."
Harry despised The Knight Bus and vowed to hold Nicholas to his word that he would teach him how to apparate before he began his fourth year.
"Then we should leave," Harry urged.
Hagrid nodded, shooting a final look towards the Hippogriff as he put on his coat.
Leading the way across the grounds, there was no telling how the day would go, but if Harry could prevent an innocent creature being executed and help a friend in need, he would do all that was possible.
"Hagrid, is your wand inside that umbrella?" Harry asked curiously as the man summoned the bus.
"I don't know what you mean, Harry," Hagrid replied, his cheeks flushing beneath his beard.
He was a terrible liar and not good at concealing things.
Harry said nothing as he was distracted by the purple vehicle announcing its arrival with an obscene bang.
"He we go again," he grumbled as they were greeted by Stan Shunpike.
(Break)
It was not often that Ron was left in bed to sleep his fill. If it wasn't Harry waking him up at Hogwarts, it was his mother who would fill that role whilst at home.
Today, however, he seemed to have been granted a reprieve and he took a moment to simply revel in waking up under his own steam.
"What time is it?" Neville groaned from across the room.
Ron looked towards the clock Harry kept on his bedside table.
He didn't keep one himself as it only served to remind him of either how long he had to wait for his next meal, or how short a time he had before the next school day would begin.
"Bloody hell, it's almost eight!" he yelped. "We only have thirty minutes of breakfast left."
Ron didn't think there had been a time in his life that he had dressed faster and cleared the stairs into the emptying Common Room.
"Where have you been?" Hermione demanded.
"I woke up late. Come on, we don't have long!"
"Where is Harry?"
Ron stopped in his tracks and looked around.
"I thought he would be here. He's not in his bed."
Hermione merely rolled her eyes as she turned and climbed the stairs towards the boys dormitories.
"Oi, get out!" Seamus shouted, covering himself with a towel as she entered with Ron in tow.
"See!" Ron huffed, pointing towards Harry's empty bed.
"See!" Hermione returned, holding up a piece of parchment she retrieved from Harry's pillow.
"What does it say?"
"That Harry will be back by the end of the day. He has something to do away from the castle. He has cleared it with Professor McGonagall. What can he be doing that is so important he has to miss classes?"
Ron shrugged.
"Breakfast?"
Hermione shook her head irritably.
"Is food all you think about?"
"Come on, Hermione," Ron grumbled. "He left us a note. It's not like he just vanished."
The girl conceded the point with a nod.
"Fine," she agreed reluctantly, and Ron all but took off in a sprint towards the Great Hall.
If he was fast enough, he could still get something of a reasonable breakfast.
He was consuming his second bacon sandwich when Hermione caught up and offered him her usual look of disapproval reserved for mealtimes.
"Are you sure he hasn't mentioned anything to you?" she asked worriedly.
"Not to me," Ron replied once he'd finished his mouthful.
Hermione hummed.
"Professor McGonagall, did Harry say when he would be back?"
"Excuse me?" the woman returned confusedly.
"Harry. He left a note saying that he would be away for the day and that he spoke with you about it."
"He did no such thing," McGonagall denied, scowling unhappily. "Leave it with me, Miss Granger. I will look into the matter personally."
The Head of House took her leave from the hall and Ron looked towards Hermione.
"He's going to be in trouble, isn't he?"
Ron nodded.
"That's the same look she gives Fred and George before setting detentions for a week."
"Oh dear, I didn't mean to get him in trouble, but why would he lie? Why couldn't he just tell us what he is doing?"
Ron did not have an answer.
Harry was his best friend, but he didn't share much.
It wasn't usually a problem for Ron who felt no need to know everything, but he could and would have covered for Harry if he'd only asked.
(Break)
The chambers of the Wizengamot was an imposing place. Thick stone walls and a black marble floor made it formidable, and the deep echoes of even the lightest footsteps reverberated around the entire, circular room.
In the very centre was a small table and a chair that would never accommodate a man of Hagrid's frame.
Circling around half of the room were rows of seats, each occupied by the many members, and at the rear was a public gallery where only two people were seated.
The whispering began the moment Harry's presence was noted, Lords and Ladies murmuring amongst themselves with many leaning in to take a closer look at him.
Dumbledore was there too, wearing an expression of curiosity.
"Mr Potter, you are not permitted to be within these chambers for another few years yet," a man declared as he stood behind a podium.
For a second, Harry wished to flee the room from the nervousness he felt, but he remembered what Nicholas told him.
"Stand tall, stand proud. You're going to be terrified, but you cannot show it. Use the fear to fuel your purpose, Harry."
He cleared his throat.
"That would be true if I was here acting in the capacity of a member of the Wizengamot," he replied. "I'm very much looking forward to that, but for today I will only be speaking on behalf of Mr Hagrid as his representative."
Again, the members of the Wizengamot spoke amongst themselves.
"As is Mr Hagrid's right, of course," an older, redheaded woman declared. "Do you wish for Mr Potter to do so?"
Hagrid looked towards him and Harry offered the man a nod of encouragement.
"I do," the enormous man confirmed, taken aback by the gesture.
"Then let us waste no more time on this," the first man that spoke said irritably. "At the conclusion of the trial held on February seventeenth, it was decided by a majority vote that the Hippogriff named Buckbeak would be executed for maiming a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As is your prerogative," he continued with a sneer, "you have the right to appeal the decision, Mr Hagrid. I trust you will not waste our time."
Harry immediately took a disliking to this man.
"I have no intention of wasting your time," Harry assured him respectfully. "I would first like to know how the decision was reached?"
"It was voted on," the man replied irritably.
"I meant using what evidence exactly."
The man tutted as he began flicking through a stack of parchment in front of him.
"We have four eye-witness statements as to what happened that led to Draco Malfoy being injured by the Hippogriff who all attest to the incompetence of Mr Hagrid's teaching methods. There is…"
"Professor Hagrid," Harry cut in. "He is a Professor and should be given the respect of his title."
He did not miss the twitching of Dumbledore's beard nor the hue of purple the man turned at being interrupted.
"Excuse me?"
"It is common courtesy to address people by their given title, isn't it?" Harry asked. "I wouldn't pretend to know who you are but if I did not use your title, I assume you would be quite insulted."
"I am Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge!" the man blustered.
"So, it would be disrespectful for me to call you Mr Fudge," Harry returned with a smile, still nervous but following Nicholas's advice. "I know it is just a formality, but it still should be observed that Professor Hagrid is a Professor, shouldn't it?"
Minister Fudge's jaw tightened before he nodded once.
"Professor Hagrid," he growled. "There is also the extent of the injuries sustained.."
"Is there a medical report to support the injury?"
"My son needed to wear a bandage for several weeks after the vicious attack!" a blond man interjected angrily.
"Which will be supported in evidence by a medical report signed by Madam Pomfrey," Harry continued. "Unless no one here was provided with one."
"We were not," the redheaded woman clarified.
"Well, that's not very professional," Harry muttered. "It's a good thing that I spoke with her on the matter then, isn't it? Of course, she couldn't give me a medical report without the permission of Lord Malfoy, but she did say she would be pleased to attend the appeal hearing to provide one if called upon."
"That will not be necessary!" Minister Fudge said heatedly.
"Would that not be the quickest way to confirm the extent of the injury?" Harry asked. "Any idiot can wrap a bandage around themselves and claim they are hurt."
"The injury is irrelevant to the matter!" Lucius Malfoy bit back. "Professor Hagrid has proven to be an irresponsible instructor!"
Harry shook his head.
"Something that has not been proven," he pointed out. "I would ask how many of you chose to study Care of Magical Creatures as an elective when you were at Hogwarts?"
"The question is not pertinent to this case!" one of the Lords seated next to Malfoy declared.
"I'm sure it will prove to be," Harry said dismissively. "Surely someone studied the subject."
"I did," a man confirmed as he stood.
"Thank you, Lord…?"
"Boot."
"Lord Boot," Harry acknowledged. "Did you ever take a class on the care of Hippogriffs?"
The man nodded.
"And what is it you were explicitly told to avoid doing?"
"Well, Professor Kettleburn told us not to approach them unless it returned a bow and that it would be unwise to insult a Hippogriff."
Harry nodded.
"Does anyone else remember that lesson?" he asked the room at large.
Several others, varying in age raised their hands and Harry turned his attention back to a furious Minister Fudge.
"I remember it too," Harry declared. "I was in the very same lesson that the incident took place in, and the very first thing that Professor Hagrid told us not to do is what Lord Boot explained. Only one person did not listen to the warning. You say you have four eye-witness accounts that support Draco's side of what happened. I would bet my last galleon that those four reports are signed by Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott. Am I right?"
"All credible witnesses," Lucius Malfoy said firmly.
"To you, maybe," Harry responded, "but I have fifteen eye-witness statements signed by other students in that class who give a very similar version of events, each of them credible and neutral witnesses, all willing to swear in front of you that what is written here is what they saw," he informed the Wizengamot as he held up the stack of parchment. "Susan Bones says that she remembers the instructions being given clearly by Professor Hagrid not to insult the Hippogriffs. This is supported by Neville Longbottom, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbot, Daphne Greengrass, and every other student in that class other than those who chose to side with Draco."
"Are you calling my son a liar?" Lucius hissed.
"I am," Harry confirmed. "As are every other person in that class. Your idiot son thought he was beyond listening to clear instructions given to him and he got himself hurt. To cover his own shame, he lied and claimed that Professor Hagrid had failed in his duty. The only person who failed in that class and got themselves hurt was your son, Lord Malfoy. Instead of owning his mistake, he has chosen to attempt to have a creature executed to hide his own stupidity and I won't stand for it. Professor Hagrid did nothing wrong and neither did Buckbeak. Draco thought he was better than listening to simple instructions and got nothing more than a scratch for his trouble. He was lucky Professor Hagrid was there to calm Buckbeak down after Draco insulted him with words that the entire class heard. I am happy to read them back to you and provide copies of all of these statements. Word for word, every witness has written down exactly what Draco said, or are you calling the sons, daughters, and other relatives within this room liars?"
It was clear to see that Lucius Malfoy was furious with Harry.
A vein in his temple throbbed as he glared across the room at him, but Harry did not break the staring match.
He would not back down.
"Enough!" Minister Fudge snapped a moment later. "The Wizengamot already voted on this matter. The appeal is denied!"
"Then you will find that you will have to execute me along with Buckbeak," Harry declared. "I have provided much more evidence that proves the innocence of both Professor Hagrid and Buckbeak and you are unwilling to admit that you got it wrong. You are a joke, Minister, and if anyone else here is going to let this happen, then you are no better than Lucius Malfoy. The children I share a classroom with that look up to you have shown more guts and integrity than anyone in this room."
His words were met with stunned silence.
"How dare you?" Fudge sputtered when he'd recovered. "You dare enter the chambers of the Wizengamot and insult us?"
Harry nodded.
"When Wizengamot proves to be as stupid as you've demonstrated, then yes."
"He is right," the redhead lady said as she stood, cutting off any response Fudge was going to offer. "Mr Potter has come forward in defence of Professor Hagrid and the Hippogriff and proven sufficiently that both are innocent of any wrongdoing. I do not appreciate the insult, but I would be remiss in my duties if I did not speak out against injustice. My Susan would not lie."
"Nor would Terry."
"My. Grandson, Neville, knows better."
"As does my Daphne."
"Then we should reconsider the given sentence," Madam Bones suggested.
Most of the members of the Wizengamot nodded their agreement.
"Those in favour of carrying out the sentence, raise your wands."
Many were pointed in the air, but Harry could evidently not count as quickly as Madam Bones.
"Those in favour of clearing Professor Hagrid and the Hippogriff known as Buckbeak of all charges?"
Again, Harry could not count quickly enough to tally the number and he waited nervously as Madam Bones took a few notes on a sheet of parchment in front of her before sliding it towards Minister Fudge.
The man purpled once more as he read the notes.
"The Wizengamot finds in favour of Professor Hagrid," he huffed, slamming his gavel atop the podium before storming from the room.
Lucius Malfoy glared balefully at Harry and followed suit.
Harry had won but the experience had not left a positive impression on him of the Wizengamot.
It seemed so few were willing to do what was right on mere principle. They needed to be pushed, and though the decision had gone in Hagrid's favour, it was not as unanimously as it should have been.
Despite his success, Harry had indeed lost respect for just about everyone in the room, even those that had eventually done the right thing.
Had he not come, none would have listened to Hagrid and Buckbeak's sentence would have stood.
It sickened Harry to his very core.
Nicholas's words rang true.
Politics wasn't about what was right and wrong, but what people could achieve using influence, wealth, and fear.
"You did it, Harry," Hagrid sobbed. "I don't know how to thank you!"
Harry smiled as he nodded at the man.
"That's what friends do," he replied. "They help each other when they need it."
Harry felt the wind being squeezed from his lungs as he was jubilantly lifted into the air, and he caught sight of Dumbledore positively beaming at him over Hagrid's shoulder before the headmaster offered him a respectful bow.
"I think it would perhaps be wise to return to Hogwarts, don't you?" he suggested. "I'm sure Buckbeak will be most relieved to hear of the outcome, as will a certain Miss Granger."
Harry nodded as Hagrid returned him to ground level, and the three of them took their leave from the chambers.
"I must say, you conducted yourself admirably, Harry," Dumbledore praised. "I do not think you have made a friend of the Minister, however."
Harry shrugged.
"I'd rather not be friends with someone who is happy to allow a creature to be murdered because of someone's lies."
Dumbledore's moustache twitched in amusement.
"If only every other could show such moral fibre and fortitude," he sighed. "The world would indeed be a much better place. Welcome to the world of politics, Harry. It is an unpleasant business, but a necessary one."
(Break)
Lessons for the day had ended and Hermione was only growing more worried about Harry.
Where could he be?
She hoped that he would join them for the evening meal, but as she entered the Great Hall, her friend was nowhere to be seen.
"He did say he would be back by the end of the day," Ron pointed out.
Hermione nodded but she could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Harry often wandered off alone for hours at a time, but never left the grounds, and with Sirius Black on the loose…
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione was startled from her trail of thoughts by Professor McGonagall.
"Is it Harry?" she asked.
McGonagall pursed her lips.
"Professor Dumbledore has assured me he is fine, well, he is until I catch up with him. You will find him at Hagrid's."
With that, the woman headed towards the staff table and Hermione stood immediately.
"Hagrid!" she gasped. "It was Buckbeak's appeal today."
Forgetting about dinner, she left the hall with a reluctant Ron in tow, no longer worried about Harry but for the Hippogriff she had tried so hard to save.
Would the Ministry have seen sense?
As she neared the hut, she watched as Buckbeak took off with a lone figure on his back.
"Hagrid!" she called, running as she spotted the man in his pumpkin patch, watching the airborne Hippogriff.
"We did it, Hermione! Buckbeak's not going to be executed!"
Hermione beamed joyously.
"What happened?" she asked.
Hagrid nodded towards Harry.
"He showed them, Hermione. He was brilliant."
"Harry?"
Hagrid nodded.
"They didn't want to change their mind, but Harry saw us right."
Hermione frowned confusedly.
Had he used all the research she had done?
Not knowing what to say, she waited for Harry to land and approached him.
"You did it," she whispered, pulling him into a hug.
"I'm sorry for not telling you. You did some great work, but it wouldn't have helped. They were determined to kill Buckbeak and other cases and outcomes wouldn't have changed their minds."
Hermione couldn't help but feel a little put out, but more than anything, she was pleased by the outcome.
"How did you manage it?"
"I appealed to their better nature," Harry answered with a grin.
Hermione didn't believe it for one moment and quirked a questioning eyebrow at him.
"Harry," she pressed.
He refused to answer and Hermione could only follow him to where Hagrid was waiting.
"Harry!" she tried again.
He paused and finally relented.
"Let's just say I probably made a few enemies in there and leave it at that."
"Enemies? Harry, what did you do?"
He smirked and shook his head.
"Nothing you wouldn't have," he answered cryptically. "I'm going to go for a walk to clear my head. I'm sure Hagrid will tell you."
(Break)
"Are you sure I cannot change your mind, Remus?"
The werewolf shook his head.
"Sirius needs me," he sighed. "I've spent more than a decade believing that he was the one that betrayed James and Lily. I promised you I would stay for the year or until the matter was resolved. I like it here, Albus, but it is too risky. It is inevitable that someone will find out what I am and I will be forced to leave. It's better this way."
Albus nodded his understanding.
"Well, I cannot say that I am not sorry to lose you, Remus," he said sincerely as he stood, offering the man his hand. "Do you know where to find him?"
Remus nodded.
"He took Harry's advice," he explained. "Until Peter is caught or the truth comes out, he will be hiding at his childhood home. No one will find him there."
"A wise move," Albus complimented. "Do give him my best and my utmost apology. We were all wrong about him."
"We were," Remus replied morosely. "I will finish up the rest of the school year and I will be gone."
Albus watched as the man left the room, again finding himself in need of a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for the beginning of next term.
Still, Remus was right.
If it hadn't been discovered already, someone would figure out what he was, and unfortunately, there would be those most displeased with a werewolf teaching their children.
With a shake of his head, Albus approached the fireplace.
He'd intended on visiting Nicholas for the past several weeks and with what had occurred in the Wizengamot chambers today, his desire to do so had only become more pressing.
Harry had indeed been impressive for his first foray into politics and would undoubtedly be a much-needed breath of fresh air when the time came for him to take up his position in only a few short years.
It was something Albus was eager to see in the not-so-distant future.
(Break)
Harry sidestepped the first Bludger that ploughed towards him, and twisted to avoid the next, brandishing his wand as it passed him. With a groaning sound, the metal ball exploded, the shards becoming a score of fluttering bats that immediately dived at him.
Whipping his wand across his body, a wall of fire sent them away to regroup and he shifted his attention back to the other projectile.
It missed him by a hairsbreadth and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
That had been a close one, though he had little time to dwell on the near miss.
The bats were bearing down on him once more but were caught in a large glob of water he conjured to intercept them.
Now to handle the other Bludger.
It rocketed towards him again, intent on smashing his bones to dust, but Harry had become adept at this exercise.
He'd been working through these exercises for much of the year.
It was not quite the same as having spells sent his way, but it was perfect for developing his footwork and improving his aim against moving targets, two aspects of magical combat that were necessary.
Avoiding the blow from the Bludger, he tracked its movements and settled on a spell that had become a favourite of his since he'd discovered it.
The ball was engulfed in black flames, and the metal began to melt, dripping onto the grass below, turning it into ash that blew away in the evening summer breeze.
He was yet to test it on anything living, but Harry expected the results would be most unpleasant for the victim.
"Well, I'm glad I never got on the wrong side of you," a voice broke into his thoughts.
Harry turned to find Wood leaning against one of the nearby Quidditch stands, nodding appreciatively at the spell work.
"You came close a few times," Harry quipped. "You are completely off your head when it comes to Quidditch, Oliver."
Wood chuckled heartily.
"It is the one thing I want to pursue in life," he replied, "and thanks to Puddlemere, I've got the chance to do that."
"They offered you a contract?"
"On the reserve team," Wood confirmed. "It's a start."
"It is," Harry agreed. "Congratulations. You deserve it."
Wood offered Harry an appreciative smile.
"I'm going to miss this place," he sighed. "I'll miss being Gryffindor's captain. Not that I have anything to complain about. Three years as captain and three House Cups isn't bad going."
"It isn't," Harry agreed.
"You played a big part in that, Harry. You're a damned good Seeker, and it's been an honour to play with you. I expect to see you in the leagues yourself in a few years. They're already talking about you, you know."
"We will see," Harry replied.
He wasn't decided on what he wished to do when he finished Hogwarts. Perhaps he would like to play Quidditch. It all depended on what Fate had in store for him.
Wood snorted as he shook his head.
"It would be a shame if you didn't. If you keep playing as you are, they'll be queuing up to sign you, except for the Harpies. They only sign women."
"I'm surprised they didn't offer you a spot," Harry quipped.
"Watch it, Potter. I'm still your captain until we get off the train at King's Cross," Oliver warned.
Harry laughed as he held up his hands to placate the older boy.
He wouldn't put it past Wood to have him running drills for fun.
"It won't be the same without you here."
Oliver nodded and pulled him into a brief embrace.
"Oi, you ask us to come here and we find you hugging poor, defenceless Harry? Leave the boy alone, Wood."
"Bugger off, you ginger tosser," Oliver huffed as he turned towards the twin that had spoken.
Fred and George had arrived along with the Chasers.
"Charming," one of the twins chuckled. "And I thought you'd invited us here to tell us how amazing we have all been."
"I did," Oliver confirmed, "and what better way to do that than us having a last fly together? Come on, get your brooms. You still belong to me until the end of the year and I will be furious if you don't keep up our winning ways. Well, what are you waiting for?"
Harry could only shake his head as he made his way towards the changing rooms.
Still, he wouldn't pretend he wasn't happy to oblige.
This was the last time the team would be as he knew it. Come the new school year, Oliver would be gone and whoever was given the captaincy would have the arduous task of replacing their Keeper.
It was not a position Harry would envy.
"What are you thinking, Little Harry?" Katie asked.
"Just how different things will be next year, Little Katie."
The girl narrowed her eyes at him and Harry laughed at the expression.
"Your nose wrinkles when you do that," he pointed out. "It's quite sweet."
"Shut up," Katie grumbled.
Harry missed the slight blush that formed on her cheeks, his thoughts having drifted to all that had happened over the past year.
The Dementors…Sirius…his first visit to the Wizengamot…the progress he had made in his studies…
It had been quite the eventful term at Hogwarts, and though he was looking forward to his summer away from the castle, he was equally keen to see what the next year would bring.
It couldn't be anymore eventful than this one, could it?