Chapter 5: Of Witches and Snitches
The soft autumn breeze stirred the crisp air as Harry made his way to the field where their first flying lesson was about to begin. Students in red and yellow gathered in small circles, excitement buzzing in their conversations. Harry walked alongside Alexandra and Elphias, who were animatedly chatting about what the lesson might bring.
"I'm not sure I'll be any good at this," Elphias admitted, running a hand nervously through his hair, which now fell in soft curls after his Dragon Pox recovery.
"I'm sure I won't," Alexandra grinned, her eyes bright. "But if I fall, I'll make it look like part of the plan. No flailing - just graceful all the way down."
Harry chuckled, but his attention drifted elsewhere.
Dumbledore stood apart, just as he always did, arms folded and gaze fixed on the distant horizon, his posture rigid and expression unreadable.
Their unspoken rivalry had only grown since the first few weeks of classes had passed. Other students were talented - Arcturus Black's spellwork was impressive, and his cousin excelled in Transfiguration. Even Alexandra and Elphias had their strengths in Charms and Potions. But in every subject that mattered, only Dumbledore could challenge Harry.
There were differences, of course - Harry had the advantage in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while Dumbledore showed prodigious skill in Transfiguration and Potions. For every spell Harry mastered on the first try, Dumbledore matched him with ease. For every inventive solution Harry devised, Dumbledore had one just as clever.
But as much as Harry respected Dumbledore's abilities, he couldn't ignore the wall the boy kept around himself, a coldness that refused to thaw.
"I'll be right back," Harry said suddenly, a flicker of determination flashing in his eyes.
Alexandra raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"
"Need to talk to someone," Harry replied with a smile, before making his way across the field.
The other students seemed to part for him, curious glances were exchanged as Harry approached the boy who kept himself apart from the rest.
Dumbledore didn't move, his gaze still set on the horizon as though he could see something far beyond the Hogwarts grounds.
Harry hesitated, but there was no backing out now. He steeled himself, then stepped up beside him.
"Hey," Harry said softly.
Dumbledore glanced at him. "Potter," he replied neutrally.
"Mind if I join you?" Harry asked casually, though his heart pounded lightly. There was always something unsettling about being this close to Dumbledore's silence.
Dumbledore shrugged, though the gesture was tight. "Doesn't matter."
They stood side by side, the silence between them thick, almost pressing. Harry searched for the right words, something to cut through the distance that always seemed to cling to Dumbledore.
"You're always off by yourself," Harry said finally, turning to face him. "I thought… maybe you could use some company."
Dumbledore's lips twitched slightly, though not in amusement. "I'm fine on my own," he muttered, his voice calm but with an edge that suggested otherwise.
Harry hesitated, sensing the distance in Dumbledore's tone. "It doesn't have to be like that, you know. I mean… we're all at Hogwarts. You don't have to be alone."
Dumbledore shifted slightly, his arms tightening across his chest. "It's not the same for everyone, Potter."
The bitterness in his tone made Harry pause. He hadn't expected Dumbledore to let that slip.
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"
There was a moment of hesitation, then Dumbledore spoke quietly. "People think they know me because of my father."
Harry's stomach twisted. He had heard the whispers, even beyond what Alexandra had told him. Harry swallowed, unsure how to tread this delicate ground.
"That's not fair," Harry said, his voice sincere. "You're not your father."
Dumbledore turned his head slightly, his expression difficult to read. "People don't care about fair. They hear what they want to hear… But they'll see eventually".
Harry's brow furrowed slightly. "See what?"
Dumbledore's lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke, quieter now, but with unmistakable conviction. "That I'm better than they are."
Harry was taken aback by the bluntness, but he could sense something behind it - more than just arrogance. "Maybe you are," he admitted, choosing his words carefully. "But that doesn't mean you have to be alone."
"Oh?" Dumbledore gave a soft, almost bitter laugh. "And what's the alternative? Join them?" He nodded toward Alexandra and Elphias, still engrossed in conversation across the field. "The girl's always laughing like nothing matters, and the boy is afraid of his own shadow. You're not like them".
Harry blinked, feeling a surge of protectiveness grow within him. "They're my friends."
"I know", Dumbledore replied, his tone guarded again. "But I'm not like them, and neither are you. Not really. They don't understand the need… the hunger… I can see it in you every time you hold your wand".
Harry opened his mouth to argue, to defend his friends, but Dumbledore's words hit too close to something he'd never fully acknowledged. Still, he would defend them nonetheless. "They're good people, Dumbledore. Magic, intelligence, ambition… they aren't all that matter".
Just as Dumbledore opened his mouth to retort, a sharp whistle cut through the air. Professor Windermere's voice followed: "Everyone gather round!"
Harry gave Dumbledore one last glance, the frustration still simmering in his chest. "You're welcome to join us. Anytime."
Dumbledore didn't respond, his face unreadable. As Harry turned to leave, he finally felt as though he understood the elusive boy better, but at the same time, was left even more confused.
Whatever wall Dumbledore had built, Harry hadn't broken through it just yet.
(Scene Break)
The air whistled past Harry's ears as he soared higher, the old Oakshaft 77 vibrating beneath his hands. He was a streak of movement, his body leaned instinctively into each twist and turn, urging the sluggish broom to keep up with his thoughts. Though the broom wasn't built for speed, Harry's movements were sharp – he felt like he was flying on instinct alone.
The world below seemed distant. Small clusters of students hovered over the pitch, laughing, shouting - revelling in their very first flight. But as high as he was, the crisp autumn air was peaceful. The chaos of the castle melted away, leaving only the sensation of freedom that flying always gave him.
He'd done this countless times at home with Fleamont and his father, but Hogwarts felt different. He was untethered, the weight of everything falling away. He knew the lesson wasn't about showing off, but he couldn't help it - he loved this feeling.
As he dipped and turned, his gaze drifted to Alexandra and Elphias.
Alexandra, always full of laughter and daring, was wobbling slightly, though her grin was wide and fearless. Alexandra wasn't one to take things seriously, but he knew she secretly tried her hardest at everything she did. He'd help her later if she wanted.
Elphias, pale-faced and shaking, clung to his broom as though it might buck him off at any moment. He seemed content just staying airborne without falling. Harry smiled to himself - Elphias always had a nervous energy about him, but he tried. He never gave up, even when things frightened him.
Despite what Dumbledore had said, they weren't all that different. In some ways, Harry was more like Dumbledore—driven, competitive—but Alexandra and Elphias had become his closest friends. They didn't share his confidence on a broom, and they didn't obsess over magic the way he did, but that didn't matter. They balanced him in ways he hadn't even realised he needed.
As he dipped lower, his eyes locked on Dumbledore, hovering a few meters away, Harry's grin faded. The boy's posture was perfect, relaxed, his movements precise as he banked left and right, cutting through the air with a casual grace. It shouldn't have surprised him - Dumbledore was good at nearly everything.
A spark of competitiveness ignited within him.
Just then, a sharp whistle pierced the air, pulling Harry from his thoughts. Professor Windermere stood on the pitch below, a gleaming Snitch held between his fingers. His voice boomed across the field.
"Alright, students! It's time to put your flying skills to the test," he called. "For those of you interested in Quidditch, today's your chance to show your potential. We'll begin with a little competition - a race to catch the Snitch!"
Harry's heart leapt. Quidditch didn't interest him much - he preferred flying for the thrill, not for sport - but he was not one to back down from a competition, be it on the ground or in the sky.
Windermere released the Snitch, and it shot off into the sky, disappearing against the bright autumn sun. "First one to catch the Snitch wins!" he shouted, his eyes gleaming.
Without a second thought, he mounted his broom, kicking off with a force that sent him rocketing upward. Others followed, but he barely noticed them as transfixed as he was on the faint glint of gold in the distance.
Wind howled past Harry's ears as he pushed his broom as fast as it could go. The old broom wasn't built for speed, but instinct told him how to handle it. He leaned forward, urging it to slice through the air.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught a glimpse of Dumbledore, auburn hair whipping behind him as he closed in from the opposite direction. The boy moved with smooth, effortless precision, cutting through the air like he was born to do it.
Harry's chest tightened. He had underestimated Dumbledore's talent. The two of them surged forward, now neck and neck, both streaking through the sky like bolts of lightning. The other students had long since fallen behind, their shouts and cheers muffled by the wind. All that mattered was the chase.
The Snitch took a sharp dive, and without thinking, Harry followed, plunging downward with a speed that made his stomach flip. Dumbledore matched his movements, the two of them racing toward the ground at breakneck speed. The ground rushed up toward them, but neither wavered.
They were close now - so close. Both had their arms outstretched, Dumbledore's slightly longer reach making up for Harry's lighter weight. Then, just as they both were almost close enough to snatch it from the air, the Snitch veered left again, favouring Dumbledore in its decision.
But Harry had been prepared for this. Just as Dumbledore twisted to follow, his momentum slowing to turn, Harry barrel-rolled to the right, his body moving before his mind had caught up. He dipped under Dumbledore's broom in one smooth, fluid motion, intercepting the Snitch's path with a perfect cut across the pitch. His hand shot out, fingers grazing the cool metal surface as he plucked the golden Snitch from its flight.
The world seemed to slow as Harry forced his broom to a halt, his heart thumping wildly. He cast a sideways glance at Dumbledore, who hovered nearby, his face a picture of windswept surprise.
Before either could speak, the other students descended on them, shouting and cheering. Professor Windermere strode over, his face beaming with approval.
"Incredible! Simply brilliant flying from the both of you," Windermere said, holding out his hand. Harry dropped the Snitch into the Professor's palm.
"You've got a natural gift, Potter," Windermere continued, eyes gleaming. "Gryffindor's been in need of a Seeker, and I'd like to put you forward for it. You'd be the youngest Seeker in two centuries."
Harry hesitated, the weight of the offer pressing down on him. For a moment, the idea was tempting for just a moment. But… Quidditch wasn't his passion. That was Fleamont's dream, not his. Harry loved the freedom of flying, not the sport itself.
"I… I don't think so, Professor," Harry said, his voice steady but polite. "I love flying, but I don't care much for Quidditch."
Windermere raised an eyebrow, his surprise visible. "Are you sure, Potter? You've got the talent. Opportunities like this don't come along every day."
Harry nodded, but then turned his gaze toward Dumbledore, who had flown down beside him. And in that moment, he knew just what to do. "Actually, Professor… I think you should offer it to him." Harry motioned to Dumbledore. "He's good too… And I think he'd want it more than me."
Windermere's gaze flicked to Dumbledore, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Well, Mr. Dumbledore? Would you be interested?"
Dumbledore's eyes lingered on Harry, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible smile, Dumbledore nodded. "I would."
The moment felt significant - like a passing of the torch, though Harry didn't feel like he was losing anything. He was giving Dumbledore what he needed, and Harry knew in his heart that he'd made the right call.
As the other students flew over to congratulate them, As Harry walked back to Alexandra and Elphias, both grinning from ear to ear, Alexandra nudged him playfully. "You should've taken it, you know. You were brilliant."
Harry shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, but… I think Dumbledore needed it more."
Elphias raised an eyebrow. "Needed it?"
Harry glanced back at Dumbledore, who was accepting the praise of the crowd with a series of stiff nods. "Yeah," he said quietly. "He's got something to prove."
And as they touched back down on the field, Harry knew he had made the right choice. After all, the skies weren't where he felt the greatest need to prove himself.
(Scene Break)
The sun hung low over the lake, casting a shimmering glow across the glassy surface. Harry and Alexandra sat side by side, the soft sounds of the water lapping against the shore a gentle backdrop to their reading. Both had their books open, though Alexandra's lay forgotten on her lap as she gazed out over the horizon.
"I don't think Elphias is much of a fan of the outdoors", Harry remarked absently as he flipped a page.
"He said the wind gives him a headache," Alexandra replied, rolling her eyes. "More like he doesn't want to leave that stuffy common room." She shut her book and leaned back on her hands, letting out a small sigh. "Not that I mind. It's nice out here… peaceful."
Harry nodded, though his thoughts weren't entirely on the peaceful surroundings nor even his book. His mind drifted back to his first late night excursion. The following night, he'd returned to the kitchens, determined to see if there was anything left from his last visit. But when he'd arrived, all traces of what the house-elves had been doing were gone. The cauldron, the wand - everything had been cleared away as though nothing suspicious had ever taken place.
And since then, Professor Everard's temper had grown ever sharper, his temper short and ready to snap at any moment. No one had mentioned Loxias again, neither in the Daily Prophet nor anywhere else around the castle. It was as if it had vanished, as if everyone just wanted to forget. But Harry didn't…
"Harry?" Alexandra's voice broke through his thoughts. She was studying him with a look of concern that had become increasingly familiar. "Are you all right? You look like you've hardly slept."
Harry glanced at her, unsurprised. "Just trouble sleeping," he answered, brushing it off as casually as he could.
She tilted her head, unconvinced. "Since when? You're not hiding something from me, are you?" She smiled playfully, though her gaze was steady. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
Harry hesitated, fingers tightening around his book. He wanted to tell her everything, but then he would have to explain how he was traversing through the castle, and he made a promise to his father. And then there was the nightmare, although it hadn't returned since that night, it remained in his thoughts whenever he closed his eyes. The soft words, the flash of green light… the screams. His hand drifted up to rub at his scar, feeling the phantom prickle of pain.
No, he couldn't tell her. She'd think him mad. Instead, he shook his head, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Really, it's nothing serious."
"You don't have to pretend with me, Harry…"
"I'll be fine. When Bulstrode beats me in Defence, then you can be worried", he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
She gave him a faint smile in return, and studied him for a moment longer, then let out a sigh and dropped the subject, though her eyes flickered to where he had rubbed moments ago. "You know, I've always wondered about that scar", she said, her tone softer, almost hesitant. "Does it… bother you? Just that I see you touching it sometimes…"
Harry looked away, stiffening slightly, his eyes settling on the calm lake. "No", he replied flatly, hoping that would be the end of it. "There's nothing special about it."
"But… it's strange though, right?" She pressed gently. "It almost looks… unnatural. How did you get it?"
Harry felt a flicker of irritation, a dull warmth spreading through his face as he clenched his book tighter. "It's just a normal scar!" he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Alex. I didn't mean to shout." He spoke more quietly now. "I've always had it, okay? Ever since I can remember. I don't know where it came from."
It was a bit of a sore subject within the Potter family. No matter how much he pushed, his parent's refused to tell him where it came from, just like the spell from his nightmare. Sometimes he wondered if the two were connected somehow – Either way, it was not something he liked to talk about.
Alexandra blinked, taken aback but quickly recovered. "It's okay, Harry. I didn't mean to pry…" She cast her eyes downward, tracing patterns on her book, looking both thoughtful and a little awkward.
They sat in silence for a moment, both gazing at the shimmering lake as the sun began to sink lower.
Alexandra broke the uncomfortable silence by clearing her throat.
"You know", she began, her tone shifting. "I've been trying to learn the Ventus charm for the past couple of days, but it's never really strong enough. I don't really know what I'm doing wrong..."
Harry glanced at her, sensing her frustration. "Reading ahead, huh?" He said, amusement returning to his voice. "It's not the easiest spell, but it's mostly about focus. You have to feel the wind before you create it."
"Easier said than done," Alexandra muttered, pulling her wand out. She shot him a hopeful look, "care to show me?"
Harry grinned. "All right", he said, standing up and pointing his wand at a stray leaf nearby. With a small, deliberate flick, he murmured, "Ventus."
A light gust whipped forward, catching the leaf and sending it fluttering into the air. Alexandra's eyes sparkled with admiration.
"That was way better than mine", she sighed. She got to her feet, and raised her wand. Biting her lip in concentration, she repeated the spell, managing a small gust that ruffled the grass. "See? Mine's rubbish.
"It's getting there", Harry encouraged. "But think of it like… calling the wind to you, like it's waiting for you to ask it. Almost like you're pulling it in, not forcing it to happen."
Alexandra's gaze turned thoughtful. "So… I just imagine it?"
"Sort of," Harry explained, leaning in. "You want it to feel natural, like the wind's already there, ready to come to you." He gave her a slight grin. "Honestly, I think you're overthinking it."
Alexandra bit her lip, nodding slowly. "That does make sense… maybe I'm overthinking it a bit."
Taking a deep breath, she raised her wand. This time, as she muttered the incantation, a stronger gust burst forth, sending the leaf spiralling upward. She laughed in delight as the breeze faded.
"There you go!" Harry grinned. "See? Just needed a bit of focus."
Alexandra's eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked at her wand, clearly pleased with her success. She glanced at Harry, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. Without warning, she raised her wand and pointed it at him.
"Ventus!" she called, sending a gust of wind straight at Harry.
Caught off guard, Harry stumbled back as the gust hit him squarely.
He quickly regained his balance, a mischievous spark lighting his eyes as Alexandra sent another gust his way. He sidestepped smoothly, raising his wand with calm precision.
He quickly regained his balance, narrowing his eyes playfully at Alexandra who sent another gust his way.
Harry sidestepped smoothly, raising his wand with calm precision.
"Flippendo!" he fired back, sending the Knockback Jinx hurtling toward her. Alexandra barely dodged, managing to stumble out of its path with just a second to spare.
She shot him a playful glare and swished her wand, attempting a quick "Rictusempra!" But Harry countered with a precise "Finite Incantatem," dissipating her spell with an effortless flick of his wand.
"Oh, come on!" she muttered, clearly frustrated, but he was already moving.
Harry took quick aim, calling, "Lumos Solem!" A burst of light blazed from his wand directly toward her face, making Alexandra flinch and squeeze her eyes shut.
Seeing the opportunity, Harry murmured, "Expelliarmus," too low for her to hear.
A vibrant jet of red light arced across the space between them, striking her wand with more force than he'd intended. It flew from her grip as she was sent sprawling, landing in an undignified heap on the ground.
Harry's eyes widened. Perhaps he'd put a bit more into the spell than expected.
"Alex!" he exclaimed, rushing over. "Are you okay?"
She groaned, rubbing her shoulder. "What in Merlin's name was that?"
"Uh, Disarming Charm," He looked sheepish as he offered her a hand "Sorry, I might've… overdid it a bit. I only learnt it yesterday."
She looked at him blinking, and then, with a begrudging grin, took his hand. "Maybe a bit", she winced as he pulled her to her feet. "Did your dad teach you how to duel?"
Harry shook his head as he scooped up her wand and handed it back. "He showed me a stance a few years ago, but apart from that, no. He doesn't even let me watch him train most of the time".
"Figures," she muttered teasingly, rolling her shoulder. "Yet another thing you're just naturally good at."
Harry just grinned sheepishly. "Is your shoulder okay?"
Alexandra pouted. "It will be". Alexandra gave her shoulder a final stretch, then looked at Harry with a glint in her eye. "So… want to go again?"
Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Are you sure?"
She rolled her eyes, grinning. "Yes, I'm sure. Just promise not to knock me over too hard this time, okay?"
He chuckled, raising his wand again. "Alright, alright. We'll keep it simple this time."
A/N
Ever read the theory that Dumbledore was the youngest seeker before Harry? The timeline aligns pretty well...