~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Harry's humiliation of Malfoy at the dueling club was the talk of the Gryffindor common room the next day. Fred and George laughed themselves silly, saying they wished they'd been there to see it.

'Figures you'd be a bloody natural at that, too,' said George, mock scowling. 'Fred, we've got to find something Harry's rubbish at and make that our new hobby of choice.'

'I've never been great shakes at gobstones,' Harry offered.

'No good,' said Fred, shaking his head. 'The smell takes forever to go away.'

'He's rubbish at chess,' said Ron.

'That's only when he's playing you,' said George dismissively. 'Against anyone else, he's all right.'

'We'll think of something,' said Fred. 'Come on, George. Snape's likely to curse our eyes and mouths shut if we're late for Potions again this term.' The twins left through the portrait hole, abusing Snape as they went.

The second years remained inside due to their final Herbology lesson of term being canceled on account of a raging blizzard. It was cosy, if a bit boring. Ron, Harry, and Hermione couldn't even go to the library to meet Stephen and Natalie, since the Ravenclaws were currently in Transfiguration. Most of them ended up just doing homework or else playing exploding snap. Ron tried to talk Harry into a game of chess, but Harry claimed that since he was "rubbish" at it, Ron likely wouldn't have much fun.

Hermione was smugly asserting that Harry and Ron had been wrong about Lockhart all along, and that now couldn't they see what a great teacher he was. This only lasted until Ron pointed out that Lockhart hadn't done anything the night before other than get disarmed by Snape and then drop his wand when trying to demonstrate proper blocking technique. This only served to infuriate Hermione further. She claimed they were just "refusing to see" what a talented wizard Lockhart was despite all the evidence, purely out of a prejudiced preconception they'd developed in their minds.

Harry laughed heartily at this, but did not otherwise contribute to the conversation.

By that evening, the castle and grounds were covered in more snow than Harry had seen at Hogwarts since...well, his second year. It was just as well term was ending, considering.

The end of the week found them on the platform at Hogsmeade station, waiting to board the Hogwarts express. Luna was with them, even though she'd be going home first before coming to stay at the Burrow. She was excitedly telling Ginny about a new creature her father claimed to have discovered in their back garden, which apparently only came out during Christmastime.

'Only he's not sure what draws it out yet,' she was saying. 'It may be the cold weather, or the decorations, or maybe it just likes people singing.'

Harry, who was fairly certain Xenophilius had seen nothing more interesting than an ordinary rabbit, was only half listening. Part of his divided focus was due to Ron telling him what to expect of a Christmas holiday at the Burrow.

'Fair warning, Mum's a big Celestina Warbeck fan,' Ron said as they hoisted their trunks onto the train. 'So expect to be hearing a lot of her, especially on Christmas Eve.'

'Can't say I even know who that is,' Harry lied smoothly.

'Oh, you will,' said Ron in an ominous tone. Behind them, Ginny sniggered.

The train ride back was much the same as the one back for Easter hols had been the previous year. Ron was telling Harry about all the things the Weasleys typically did for Christmas, while Fred and George were making plans to play quidditch. They were also coming up with a list of things at which to challenge Harry, with the goal of finding something he was no good at. Harry and Ginny both found this incredibly amusing, and began throwing out their own ideas – most of them rather outlandish.

'Why would anyone want to weave baskets underwater?' George asked in response to one of Ginny's suggestions.

'Oh, that sounds interesting,' chimed in Luna, who for the last hour had been contentedly reading a copy of The Quibbler. 'Depending on what materials you used, you could end up with a much sturdier, tightly woven basket once the fibers dry.'

There were several seconds of stunned silence as everyone processed this before the conversation continued.

When they arrived at King's Cross, they said farewell to Hermione and see you soon to Luna as the two girls were picked up by their respective parents to go home for the holiday. Then it was time to cram everyone into the Ford Anglia which, Harry reminded himself with a grin, would have been roaming wild in the Forbidden Forest by this time had things gone the way they had before. As at Easter, Ginny sat on Harry's other side from Ron, between him and the twins. Her brothers neither commented on or even looked askance at this; it seemed expected. Even Percy, sitting in the front seat, seemed to take it as a matter of course.

'Your mother's excited to see you all,' said Mr Weasley from the driver's seat as he pulled out into the London traffic. 'Don't tell her I said this, but be prepared to answer all sorts of questions on what kind of a teacher Gilderoy Lockhart is.'

'She might not like our answers,' said Fred. It was a mark of Lockhart's ineptitude that even Percy, who typically did not abide any besmirching of anyone in a position of authority, did not rebuke Fred for this comment. Harry was sure Mr Weasley picked up on this, because he did not mention the defense professor again.

Instead, he said, 'Harry, it's wonderful to see you again. I'm glad you were able to come spend Christmas with us.'

'So am I, Mr Weasley,' he said earnestly. 'Thank you very much for having me.'

'Any time,' Mr Weasley replied.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Christmas at the Burrow promised to be just as wonderful as it always was. Mr and Mrs Weasley had put off decorating the house so that their children (and Harry) could help. It was a chore that wasn't a chore; decorating was always fun, especially when Ginny's parents and brothers indulged her and allowed her to take charge. They had always done this before, too, so it wasn't even her assertive adult personality that was responsible.

Two days into the holiday, Luna came to stay. She and Ginny spent a lot of time together, which meant a little less of her time was free for Harry, but he was perfectly all right with this. He divided his time between the two of them and Ron and the twins, excepting when they were all together in the evening playing parlor games or just reading by the fire and drinking hot chocolate.

It was, all around, one of the best Christmases he could ever remember. The only thing that would have made it better would have been having Sirius there. Thinking about his godfather still wasting away in Azkaban while he was here enjoying himself nearly tore him up – not least because there was no way to escape that it was he, Harry, who was responsible for him still being there. They could have gotten him out and come up with a different workable plan, surely.

Every time his thoughts went down this path, he forced himself to remember Sirius falling back through the veil. Cedric dropping like a ragdoll in the graveyard. Fred, Lupin, and Tonks staring lifelessly up at him from the floor of the Great Hall. Those were all known events that he could prevent, as long as he manipulated Voldemort properly. If he forced Voldemort into coming up with a new plan that he, Harry, had no knowledge of, there would be no way to keep everyone safe, because he wouldn't know what he was trying to keep them safe from.

I'm sorry, Sirius, he thought to himself in bed at night after a perfectly wonderful Christmas Day that his godfather had not been a part of. Just hang on a little longer. I'll make it up to you somehow; I promise.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The train ride back to school wasn't as much fun as the one coming home. For one, Harry and Ginny had nothing to look forward to save months of tedium. There were no steps they could take in their plan until late spring, and they were getting so discouraged by their lack of progress in discovering what had happened to them that they decided the night before leaving the Burrow that they would take some time away from it to avoid burning themselves out. That however did mean they had even less to do, so when they returned and saw that Lockhart's Dueling Club was planning to continue meeting this term, Harry found to his astonishment that he was pleasantly surprised.

Ginny, less so.

'Oh sure, go off and have fun while all the first years stay behind,' she groused, crossing her arms. 'This is so humiliating. I could wipe the floor with anyone in this school except you and the teachers. And probably some of the teachers.'

'Probably most of the teachers,' said Harry, thinking of the likes of Lockhart and Trelawney. 'I'd say it would only be the heads of house you'd have to watch out for.'

'You're trying to cheer me up by flattering me,' she said bluntly. 'I'll allow it. But teachers like Vector and Burbage and Sinistra are unknown quantities. I don't really know enough about them to say.'

Harry conceded she had a point, which was why when he, Ron, and Hermione arrived for the first Dueling Club meeting of term the following Tuesday, he was both surprised and amused to find that Lockhart's "assistant" this time around was none other that their Astronomy teacher, Professor Aurora Sinistra.

'Professor Sinistra has kindly agreed to be my assistant this time, everyone,' said Lockhart jovially after he'd all welcomed them to the meeting. Sinistra, for her part, didn't look much happier about it than Snape had, though she perhaps was a little better at hiding her disdain for the defense professor. Mostly she stood at the front of the room with a stony expression on her face. Harry wondered if it wasn't Lockhart but rather Dumbledore himself who was requiring these meetings to be supervised by another member of staff. It would go a long way toward explaining how Snape had been roped into it.

'Why don't we all start off practicing what we learned last time?' Lockhart said. 'Pair off, now.'

With no Snape to stop him, Ron paired up with Harry right away.

'Remember now, we're disarming only,' said Lockhart. 'Block it if you can. Three, two, one...'

Spells began firing all over the place. Harry was certain they weren't all disarming charms, but Lockhart either wasn't aware or had no way of doing anything about it. If he was expecting Sinistra to step in and accidentally teach them all something the way Snape had done, he was sorely disappointed. She appeared willing to do no more than chaperon and keep students from hurting each other, which she did by weaving her way through them and telling off anyone who was getting off task. No demonstrations or tips or advice were forthcoming. Harry smirked; if he didn't know any better, it was almost as if she wanted to see Lockhart crash and burn.

Harry was at least having a good time. He was helping Ron get his timing down. Before long Seamus and Dean came over for some pointers as well. A little later Cho came over too with her friend Sapphira Fawcett, though she spent about as much time running her fingers through her hair and smiling at Harry as she did practicing. Again he couldn't help thinking how differently he would have reacted to this were he actually twelve.

Before long, there were more than half a dozen people in his little area of the hall, and he was giving them all hints and tips on how to improve their wand work. It was like being back in the DA.

After about twenty minutes, Lockhart managed to get everyone's attention again and asked Professor Sinistra if she had anything she would like to practice with the students.

Sinistra, with a perfectly straight face, said, 'Oh no, Professor, I would never presume to step on your toes. I'm only here to help maintain order.'

'Yes, of course,' said Lockhart, his jolly facade wavering for only a moment. 'Most gracious of you. Well then,' he clapped his hands and looked around, desperately searching for an idea. 'Why don't we...'

Harry don't know what made him do it. Maybe he felt pity for this pathetic excuse for a man; maybe he wanted to help the students who had come hoping to learn something; maybe he just wanted the Duelling Club to go well. It was something that would flourish under a capable teacher's hands – like Lupin, for instance.

'Professor?' he said, raising his hand. Lockhart looked to him as a man dying of thirst looks at someone with a hosepipe.

'Yes, Harry?' he asked.

'What about a competition?' he said. 'Like a tournament bracket. That could be fun.'

Lockhart's eyes lit up at once. He wasn't the only one; murmurs of excitement began rumbling through the hall, and even Professor Sinistra, Harry noticed from the corner of his eye, allowed a small uptick in the corners of her mouth.

'A splendid idea, Harry!' Lockhart bellowed, beaming. 'Yes, that sounds just the thing. I had planned, of course, to save this as something of a treat for later in the term, but why wait, eh?'

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Lockhart had of course planned no such thing, and that he'd just thrown the bumbling fraud the biggest of life preservers.

'Hoping for a chance to show off, Potter?' Malfoy scoffed loudly.

'I don't have to participate if you're worried I'll make you look bad, Malfoy,' he called back. Ron and several of the others around him laughed. Malfoy fumed.

It took a while to get the tournament organized. While other teachers could have conjured a blackboard with a bracket drawn on, as well as a bowl with lots to draw, Lockhart had to do it all by hand (and Sinistra wasn't helping). He claimed it was all in an effort to build up suspense and anticipation, but more than a few students were tapping their feet impatiently and one or two had even left by the time everything was set up.

'Now then,' announced Lockhart, who was looking a little harried by this point, 'the rules will be very simple. The first in each match to disarm their opponent will move up to the next round. Any cheating will result in immediate disqualification. I'll be watching you! And so will Professor Sinistra, who, I'm told, has excellent eyes, so don't try anything funny!'

There were seventy-three students in attendance, so those who had drawn the worst lots had to compete in an extra preliminary to pare the numbers down to sixty-four for a proper bracket. Harry was not one of these unfortunate few, but Ron was. His extra match was against Goyle, of all people.

'You can handle him, Ron,' Harry encouraged. 'Just like we were practicing. After all, it's only Goyle; it's a miracle he managed to put his shoes on the right feet this morning.'

Goyle gave Harry a filthy look, but Ron laughed and looked a little more relaxed. Lockhart counted down from three, and then Ron disarmed his opponent before Goyle even had a chance to register what had happened. There were cheers from much of the gathered crowd who weren't from Slytherin (and even one or two of the third year Slytherins).

There were a few more extra starting rounds to get out of the way, and then the bracket of sixty-four was ready. Another thing Lockhart had failed to take into account was just how long this would take doing things one duel at a time. There was an awful lot of standing around while everyone waited for their turn.

Harry's first opponent was a third year Ravenclaw named Eddie Charmichael. Harry was quick on the draw and casually sidestepped Charmichael's own spell which passed harmlessly over his shoulder even while Charmichael's wand was already arcing through the air toward him. He caught it deftly and returned it to its owner while Lockhart proclaimed him the winner, then went back to Ron and the others to watch the rest of the first round.

'It's mostly the third years winning, have you noticed?' said Dean when they were about halfway through.

'Makes sense, really,' said Ron. 'It'd be more surprising if they weren't.'

Malfoy had managed to win his first round against Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Ron just beat Terry Boot to the draw. Dean was unlucky enough to be matched against a third year Hufflepuff and lost, and Seamus was lucky enough to face Crabbe and advanced with little difficulty. Stephen and Natalie had worse luck, and were both eliminated by third year students from their own house.

Cho was exuberant at her victory over one of the Ravenclaw boys in her year, and made sure to thank Harry repeatedly for his help. He couldn't feel awkward anymore. In fact he almost laughed. Even he thought she was laying it on a little thick at this point. Then again, she was only thirteen. Merlin knew he himself hadn't exactly mastered subtlety by that age, either.

By the time of the second round, it was getting late. Around half of those who'd been eliminated left rather than stay to watch the rest of it. This time, Harry was paired against none other than Cormac McLaggen. He fought hard to suppress the urge to be vindictive. After all, this version of McClaggen hadn't done anything to him yet. Still, he'd be lying to himself if he said he weren't going to enjoy this.

'No hard feelings, Potter,' said McClaggen as they both stood ready. Lockhart counted down, and Harry waited for McClaggen to act so he could strike him while he was distracted.

McClaggen sprang into action the instant Lockhart finished his count and his spell burst forth as if from a cannon. His movements were so telegraphed however that Harry was once again able to lazily sidestep out of the way and fire his own spell right under McClaggen's guard. It hit while the third year was already turning prematurely to celebrate, and it landed in Harry's outstretched hands at the same moment McClaggen's jaw dropped.

'No hard feelings, McClaggen,' he said as he handed the boy back his wand. He could tell McClaggen was fuming and was itching to say something, but he turned and walked off before giving him the opportunity.

'Ooh, well done, Harry!' Cho said when he returned to the group he'd been watching with.

'It really was,' said her friend Sapphira. 'McClaggen's so full of himself; it was nice to see someone bring him down a peg.'

Now it was even harder not to laugh; Cho couldn't decide whether or not she wanted to be annoyed with Sapphira for this comment.

Ron's second match was against Ernie MacMillan, who before the DA had always had a problem with flourishing his want too much. Ron disarmed him relatively easily and looked very pleased with himself. Seamus faced third year Ravenclaw and future head boy Elliot Frost and lost handily. Hermione, who had triumphantly defeated Pansy Parkinson in the first round, now faced Blaise Zabini. Her spell was on target, but Zabini managed to avoid it using a similar sidestepping dodge to Harry (though much less practiced and graceful), and fired back one of his own.

Hermione managed to deflect it using the technique they had practiced at the previous meeting, surprising everyone – including Harry, whose eyes were as wide as they'd been in a long time – and fired another disarming spell. This time, perhaps because he was still taken aback by Hermione's expert defense, Zabini was not quick enough to dodge and lost his wand.

'That was really well done, Hermione!' Harry congratulated her as she came back. She was looking flustered yet pleased.

'I wasn't sure I would be able to do it!' she admitted. 'He nearly caught me off guard.'

'You must've been practicing a lot,' Harry said. 'The timing is really difficult.'

'There's only so much practice I can do on my own, of course,' she said, 'but yes, I've been working very hard on it.'

Cho beat Susan Bones in her second match and looked utterly delighted when Harry congratulated her. He wondered if perhaps he shouldn't have, but that just seemed needlessly cruel.

In the third round, there weren't many second years left. Malfoy lost to third year Hufflepuff Owen Cadwallader (and looked absolutely livid about it), and Ron was finally defeated by third year Slytherin Hereward Selwyn. Hermione also lost to a third year Slytherin, Eustace Pyle. She looked very put out.

'You were still brilliant,' Ron said to her when she came back with slumped shoulders. 'Practically no one else has managed to block one like you did against Zabini.' Hermione perked up a little bit hearing this.

Cho faced her friend Marietta Edgecomb (were they friends yet? He hadn't seen them together), and Harry was not able to suppress a spike of vindictive glee at seeing the erstwhile DA sneak be defeated, even if it was by the very girl who'd brought her there to begin with.

With all of their friends other than Harry eliminated, Stephen and Natalie asked if he would be offended if they went back to their common room.

'It's fine,' he told them. 'This is dragging on really long; I'm surprised you stayed as long as you did, honestly.'

'We weren't expecting anyone we knew to get this far, to tell the truth,' said Stephen. Natalie hit him on the arm, but Harry just laughed.

'Fair enough. See you tomorrow?'

'All right,' said Natalie. 'Good luck!'

'Yeah, what she said,' said Stephen. 'Only watch out for Frost; he's top of his year.'

'I'll take that under advisement,' said Harry glibly. They waved and headed off.

In the quarter final, Harry was one of only two second years left, the other being Theodore Nott. In addition to Cho, Selwyn, Pyle, and Cadwallader, the other two competitors were Elliot Frost and Cho's friend Sapphira, whom Harry was up against in the first match.

'You're the only Gryffindor left, Harry!' Ron shouted. 'Don't make us look bad!'

'Don't think I'll go easy just because Cho fancies you,' Sapphira said, smirking. Harry raised an eyebrow; was she supposed to be telling him this?

'I wouldn't expect you to,' he said, trying to stay casual. The cat was out of the bag now, meaning he would have to address it sooner rather than later. Just as well; he'd been putting it off and probably would have continued to do so whatever Ginny said had someone not forced his hand.

Harry had been watching all the duels (unlike most of the participants, most of whom allowed their attention to wander unless a friend was competing), and he knew that Sapphira's strategy was to dodge first and then cast her spell, causing her opponent to cast it where she had been rather than where she actually was. She was left-handed, so had been dodging backward to the left consistently. Thus, when Lockhart finished counting down, he immediately cast his disarming charm to the left of where she was currently standing. Sure enough, it hit her just as she was raising her own wand, which then flew out of her hand and into Harry's grasp. She pursed her lips in frustration, but otherwise didn't react.

'You can't have expected that to keep working all night,' he said as he handed her wand back to her. 'Some people are paying attention.'

'I should have known I was pushing my luck,' she said, accepting her wand. 'Everyone else kept getting caught off-guard, though. I thought it was worth another try.'

They walked back together, and Harry saw that Cho, now completely red in the face, was standing farther away from Ron and Hermione than she had been (Dean and Seamus had gone to bed).

'Um, are you in trouble?' Harry asked Sapphira.

'Uh-oh,' said the Ravenclaw girl, shooting a glance at her friend before sucking in a breath and wincing. 'I might be. Good match, Potter.' She left him and trotted of to join Cho, who immediately rounded on her.

'I can't believe you told him!' she hissed in a loud whisper that nevertheless carried to where Harry could hear. He pretended he could not.

'What, like it was a secret?' Sapphira countered, also keeping her voice low but not whispering. The rest of their conversation was drowned out as Harry rejoined his friends.

'Nice one, Harry!' Ron congratulated him. 'Just two rounds to go!'

'Thank goodness for that,' said Hermione. 'It's getting awfully late.'

'I don't think Lockhart stopped to consider how long this would take,' Harry said.

'He didn't consider it?' Hermione asked. 'Wasn't this your idea?'

Harry smiled viciously. 'You're right; it was.' Hermione huffed and Ron howled with laughter.

'I can't believe you two,' said Hermione crossly. 'You're always having a go at him, even though all he's ever done is try to help you.'

'Help me do what, get my name in the newspaper?' Harry asked derisively. 'Keep my wrist loose while signing autographs? Make sure the photographer catches my good side?'

Ron laughed again while Hermione crossed her arms and looked even more cross than before.

'I should think you'd have more respect for someone who's accomplished so much, even if you don't have the proper respect for a teacher,' she said.

'I might,' said Harry, 'if I believed for a second he could possibly have done any of those things. The bloke can barely levitate a piece of chalk, Hermione. Didn't you think it was odd that he set up this whole tournament by hand? McGonagall could have done it with her wand in about ten seconds.'

Hermione frowned still deeper and turned away from him, but she did not refute his point. He was hoping that if he could at least plant some seeds of doubt in her mind about Lockhart now, it might soften the inevitable blow for what he and Ginny had planned later in the year.

Selwyn had beaten Cadwallader while they were talking, and their attention turned back just in time to see Nott – who was better with a wand than Harry would have thought – lose to Frost. No real surprise there, at least.

Cho was up next against Eustace Pyle, but she kept glancing over at Harry, and the distraction cost her the match. She looked horribly embarrassed, so Harry employed a skill he had perfected from the early years of Ginny's awkward crush and tactfully pretended not to notice.

It was time for the semi-final now. Their audience had shrunk to only around ten people (even Professor Sinistra was starting to yawn), but Lockhart insisted they finish what they started. When Harry faced Selwyn, the "older" Slytherin looked down on him in much the way he'd come to expect.

'Think you're hot stuff, eh Potter?'

'I'm not sure where you got that idea,' Harry said.

'Get ready to have that smug look wiped off your face.'

Harry rolled his eyes and stood ready. When Lockhart counted down, he wasted no time and disarmed Selwyn with as little difficulty as he'd done anyone else. Then, because the third year looked as though he might punch him, he tossed the wand back to its owner instead of walking it back himself.

'You'll want to be careful not to antagonize the Slytherins too much,' Hermione warned him. Her tone indicated that she was still annoyed with him, so he merely smiled and thanked her for worrying about him.

Frost beat Pyle, which Harry had expected, and then it was time for the final match. Ron's excitement was about on a level as for a quidditch match, which was rather touching, and even Hermione was feeling in a good enough mood to wish him luck. He also noticed that Cho had forced Sapphira to stay and watch, though the other girl didn't appear overly enthusiastic at the idea.

Harry had been mulling over how to handle this all evening. He'd certainly had his fun, but he'd also probably drawn more attention to himself than was wise. His pride rankled at what he knew was the smart thing to do, but he pushed it down. Pride, he had found, rarely made the best decisions.

The dozen or so students remaining were all cheering as the two finalists stepped forward to face each other, and Harry was surprised to hear at least half of them cheering for him. It was almost a shame to disappoint them.

Lockhart counted down from three, Harry raised his wand and cast his spell, his aim just slightly off, and he wasn't quick enough to dodge Frost's spell coming his way.

That's what it must have looked like to everyone else, anyway. His holly and phoenix feather wand flew through the air and was caught by the Ravenclaw boy who looked as surprised as he was pleased. Cheers and groans rang out simultaneously from the remaining spectators.

Lockhart, who for a moment looked like he'd forgotten what he was supposed to be doing, suddenly stepped forward and beamed his famous smile.

'Well done, Elliot, well done!' he said. 'I see you've been taking my lessons to heart! And Harry!' he rounded on Harry now, still smiling away. 'We mustn't forget you! A spectacular showing! I couldn't be prouder than to have two such fine young wizards following in my footsteps.'

Harry idly wondered whether Lockhart had actually expected him to win, and moreover, if he was upset that he hadn't.

If the hapless defense professor had envisioned some grand presentation ceremony, he was destined to be disappointed. Everyone who remained – including Professor Sinistra – immediately began filing out of the hall to their respective dormitories. Cho briefly caught up with Harry to tell him she thought he'd done really well even if he hadn't won before turning beet red and practically running away from him to leave with Sapphira.

It reminded him very much of Ginny when she'd been younger. He opened his mouth to say so to Ron and the words were almost out of his mouth before he caught himself. It was by far the closest he'd come to slipping up in a very long time. Did this mean he was getting complacent, or were his two realities starting to blur together in his memories? Either possibility was unnerving.

Fortunately no one seemed to notice – even Hermione was too preoccupied, and she was by far the most perceptive person around. She was also the only person – besides Luna, perhaps, but she wasn't there – who might have picked up that he'd thrown the last duel. For a second he'd thought maybe Frost might have spotted something off, but he hadn't said anything.

'That was really close, Harry!' Ron said as they left the hall and began the trek back up to Gryffindor Tower. 'I thought you might have had it there for a minute.'

'So did I,' said Hermione. 'How did you get so good at dueling?'

'I expect it's the same skills as being a seeker,' Harry said. He certainly wasn't about to say "A decade of practice." 'You know, timing and paying attention and such.'

'You reckon?' asked Ron. 'That might be it. But are you good at dueling because you're a good seeker, or are you good at both because you're good at paying attention and timing?'

'That's a very good question, Ron,' said Hermione. 'I expect it's the latter. Harry has an innate sense of timing and where things are that makes him predisposed to excel at certain activities.'

'I don't know what Snape or Binns would say about my "innate ability to pay attention",' joked Harry.

'They don't count; no one can pay attention to them,' said Ron. Hermione indignantly objected.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

'You're overthinking it,' Ginny told him the following evening when he told her about his almost slip. 'I mean sure, if you'd said something, it definitely would have confused them, since they've never seen me like that, but it wouldn't have been anything we couldn't talk our way out of. And it's not like we both haven't had slips before. It's completely natural. Well, as natural as anything can be in an unnatural situation. You know what I mean.'

'I worry that one day I won't be able to remember which life was which,' Harry confessed. 'Like, I'll be remembering something, but not know if it's from my original life or this one.'

'Okay, I'll grant that would be a little strange, but would it be the end of the world?' she asked. 'It's not like we're becoming different people.'

'No, that's true,' said Harry, 'but it would increase the chances of us mentioning something that no one in this life would have any memory of.'

'So they just think we're a bit odd,' Ginny said, shrugging. 'Just play it off as a dream you had and you forgot it wasn't real, or something like that.'

'But it was real,' Harry insisted. 'To us, anyway. The memories we have of that life are the only evidence it ever happened. If we lose them, it'll be like it's gone forever.'

'If we get back, everything we've done here will be gone forever,' Ginny said.

Harry's train of thought was stopped dead in its tracks. This fact had never occurred to him before, and he was surprised by how much the idea upset him.

'You've never thought about that, have you?' Ginny asked.

'No, I haven't,' he said. 'I've been too preoccupied with figuring out what happened and how to undo it: I never spared a thought for what it would mean if we did, outside of us getting our old lives back.'

'I'll admit, early on, that's really all there was to focus on,' Ginny said. 'But the longer we've been here...I don't know. We've made friends. Accomplished things. I feel like the longer we're here, the more I'd miss it if we left.'

'Do you not want to go back?' Harry asked, terrified of what her answer might be.

'I didn't say that,' she said quickly. 'I'm just saying it'll be harder to leave the longer it takes to figure out how.'

The icy hand that had gripped his heart relaxed and he could breath again. If Ginny ever decided she didn't want to return to their lives – that she wanted to stay in this new one – he honestly didn't know what he would do. He would have to choose between leaving behind either the woman he loved or everyone and everything else he cared about. Hewanted to say that he would choose her – felt confident he would – butthat wasn't the sort of choice one could make hypothetically.

'Harry,' Ginny called. 'Harry.' It was as though her voice were coming from far away, even though she was right there next to him.

'What?' he asked, turning to look at her and forcing himself out of his thoughts to focus on her face, now covered with worry.

'I scared you, didn't I?' she asked. He nodded. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't mean to. And I don't want you to think for a moment that I would ever choose this life over us. Where you go, I go. End of story. All right?'

He looked into her eyes and saw the earnestness there, the devotion. She would not leave him. She would not put him in a position to have to make that choice. The relief he felt was tempered by guilt; he was allowing her to carry that burden rather than do it himself.

'All right,' he said, letting go of the anxiety but keeping the guilt. He really didn't deserve her.

'Now enough about that,' she said with a tone of finality. 'I want to hear more about this tournament you had and how badly Lockhart bungled it.'

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Harry didn't see Cho again for two days. He got the distinct impression she was avoiding him. Normally, he would have been perfectly happy to let her, but in this instance it was just going to make what he had to do even more difficult when he eventually got a chance to do it.

He finally caught up with her on the quidditch pitch that Saturday. Ravenclaw were leaving their practice just as Gryffindor were showing up for theirs. She saw him and looked as though she wanted to bolt, but it was too late.

'Er, hi, Harry,' she said, very skittish.

'How was practice?' he asked as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

'Oh, it was fine,' she said. 'Listen, Harry, about what Sapphira said the other night...'

'I hope you weren't too hard on her,' Harry said.

'What? Oh, no, I wasn't. I just...that wasn't exactly the way I wanted to tell you.'

'That's understandable,' he said. What he had to say next was proving difficult. For Merlin's sake, this is ridiculous. I'm an adult and she's a child. There's no reason to feel so awkward about this.

'Listen, Cho,' he started.

'You're going to tell me not to bother, aren't you?' she said sadly, her face falling. 'That you're not interested.'

'Not quite that,' he said. 'It's just...well, I've got someone I fancy already, you know. And I was being a coward and not saying anything to you because I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but I reckon I'd be doing that either way, wouldn't I? I'm sorry.'

'You don't have to apologize, Harry,' she said, making an impressive show of keeping herself together; she was obviously upset. 'Thanks for telling me, and for not making a big deal out of it.'

'I really am sorry, though I know that doesn't help,' he said lamely. It certainly hadn't helped when she'd said it to him, anyway.

'Thanks,' she said. 'We can be friends, right?'

He was inordinately glad he hadn't been the one to say it.

'Of course,' he said quickly.

'Great,' she said, offering him a toothy smile. 'Well, I'll...I'll see you around, Harry,'

'Yeah, see you.'

She swung her broom over her shoulder and headed back to the castle. Harry waited until she was a good distance away before letting out a huge sigh of relief. That was at least one less headache he had to deal with.

'So, Harry,' came a familiar voice from behind him. He threw his head back and growled in frustration.

'What's this we hear about you already having someone you fancy?' Fred asked.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Harry only had to endure a few hours of Fred and George taking the piss out of him. They exhausted themselves after teasing him over every girl they'd ever seen him interact with (though hilariously it did not occur to them to include their sister in this list). They also put forth the theory that he'd simply lied in an attempt to let Cho down easy ('Very gentlemanly of you, Harry'), but he assured them he had not, which thoroughly intrigued them.

Oliver Wood told them off for paying more attention to harassing him about it than to the bludgers during practice, which almost made the whole thing worth it.

The Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin match at the end of the month was mercifully much shorter than the previous match, though with less happy an ending. Malfoy beat Cho to the snitch by a hair's breadth and Slytherin ended up winning.

'Bad luck,' Ron said to Stephen and Natalie. 'Now your hopes of winning the cup are riding on beating us.'

'Hark who's counting their chicks before they hatch,' Stephen quipped. 'You haven't beaten Hufflepuff yet.'

'As if we'll have any trouble with that,' said Ron.

'Don't jinx us, Ron,' said Harry. 'When it comes to quidditch, you can't take anything for granted.' He spoke from experience, of course. 'What if one of us gets detention and can't play, or has all the bones removed from our arm and is stuck in hospital regrowing them? Oliver never did get around to building us a reserve team.'

'Why would that ever happen?' asked Ron. 'I mean sure, detention could be an issue; but how would anyone lose all of their bones?'

'I can see Lockhart doing it by accident trying to "help" someone with an injury or something,' said Harry, shrugging. Natalie howled with laughter.

'He's something else, isn't he?' Stephen asked, chuckling a bit himself. 'Is that why you're messing with him so much? Trying to make Dumbledore see what a useless twat he is and sack him?'

'I think Dumbledore knows,' said Ron. 'Hagrid told us literally no one else applied for the job this year. What other choice did he have?'

'Too bad he couldn't bring back Overdeck,' said Natalie. 'He was fun.'

'If that's the case, I wonder if we're going to be stuck with this git next year, too,' Stephen lamented.

'Surely not,' said Ron. 'He'll have to have found someone by then.'

'We can only hope,' said Stephen.

'Well, whoever it is, they can't possibly be any worse than what we've had so far,' Ron said.

'Ron, what did I just say about tempting fate?' said Harry, thinking of Umbridge.

'Right, right, sorry,' said Ron.

The four of them made their way back up toward the castle, stopping down at the pitch level to commiserate with Cho on her loss. They didn't stay long, since Cho was still feeling awkward around Harry, and Ron's stomach was rumbling.

'What was that about?' Natalie asked after they left the pitch. 'Last I heard Chang fancied the pants off you.'

'She might still,' said Harry, 'but I expect rejection doesn't feel very good.' He knew it didn't.

'You turned her down?' Natalie asked in surprise. 'When did this happen? Why did this happen? Chang is fit. You both love quidditch. It should've been perfect.'

'Apparently Harry already fancies somebody else, though he's keeping mum on who it is,' Ron butted in.

'Not any of you,' Harry said quickly.

'Well that's a relief,' said Stephen. 'Don't get me wrong; you're an all right bloke, Harry; I just don't fly that way.'

Natalie scoffed. 'As if you'd be in Harry's league if you did.'

'Don't take that from her, Stephen,' said Harry.

'I wasn't planning to,' said Stephen. 'I'll have you lot know that I could get any bloke in this school if I wanted.'

'That's the spirit,' Harry said.

'This conversation has taken a strange turn,' said Ron. They had reached the oak front doors.

'As all interesting conversations do,' said Stephen. 'Well, I think I'll go drown my sorrows in the Great Hall. Coming, Nat?'

'Might as well.'

Harry and Ron ended up heading that way too, as it was lunch time. They parted with the two Ravenclaws and then met up with Hermione and Ginny over at the Gryffindor table.

'How was the match?' Hermione asked as they sat down.

'Slytherin won,' Ron reported, making a face as he piled some chips onto his plate.

'That's rotten luck,' said Ginny, who was already halfway through her own lunch, by the look of it.

'I'm surprised you didn't join us at the match,' Harry said to her. The question was clear in his voice.

'Interpersonal drama,' she said, rolling her eyes. 'It was all hands on deck in the dormitory this morning. I wanted to come, but...'

Harry understood. If this had something to do with one of her goals from their plan book, it made sense that she would have given it priority.

'Everything all right?' he asked.

'I think so,' she said. 'Just two erumpents butting heads is all.'

'I see. It usually takes a third one to sort those types of things out.'

She narrowed her eyes at him while Hermione laughed unexpectedly. Ron looked lost.

'Watch it, Potter,' Ginny said. 'Erumpent horns explode, you know.'

'What are you two talking about?' Ron asked.

'I'll explain it to you when you're older, Ron,' said Hermione, patting his arm sympathetically.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Harry had been fully expecting to have to endure Lockhart's ridiculous idea of Valentine's Day celebrations again, so he was thrown for a loop when February the fourteenth rolled around and there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen.

Sure, Lockhart spent the day dressed in lurid pink robes, and yes, he made a small speech at breakfast thanking the fifty-three people who'd thus far sent him cards (Hermione refused to meet Ron's eyes when he questioned her about this), and he encouraged them all to enjoy the holiday, but that was it. No extravagant decorations all over the place, no confetti, and no troupe of singing delivery dwarves.

It wasn't as if he was disappointed at the lack of any of these things – far from it – but it was something different. Something unexpectedly different for reasons he couldn't identify. And if nearly two years in this anomalous temporal experience had taught him anything at all, it was to immediately mistrust any glaring differences he couldn't explain.

He was on edge for most of the day, and his friends noticed.

'What's wrong, Harry?' Hermione asked at lunch. 'You look nervous about something.'

'Do I?' he asked. He'd been distracted, waiting for the other violently pink shoe to drop.

'Maybe he's worried about being buried under fifty-three valentine cards,' teased Ron.

'Very funny,' said Harry, though he was definitely glad he didn't have to worry about that. And after the previous year, it would be wonderful to spend Valentine's Day with Ginny, even if they would have to wait until after hours in the Room of Requirement to do it. He'd already bought her a box of her favorite Honeydukes chocolate (secretly, of course), but was looking forward to just spending some time with her. No plans, no diagnostics, no spell practice, just quality time with the woman who by this time should have been his wife. He'd had precious too little of that lately.

Despite all his worries, and the looming feeling that something catastrophic was going to happen, the day passed by without anything unusual taking place. A few cards were exchanged amongst students in the traditional way (sans dwarves), and he himself received a few anonymous cards from secret admirers. He made sure Ron and the twins did not see them.

He and Ginny spent the evening in the Room of Requirement, which had made itself to look like a small intimate and romantic dining spot. They'd already eaten with the rest of the school in the Great Hall, but she presented him with some treacle tart she'd made earlier in the day (with the help of the Room). All things considered, it was infinitely superior to the previous Valentine's Day.

'Wait, I got you something else, too!' Ginny said excitedly as he relished the last few bites of his pudding. She produced a wrapped, cylindrical package with a tag on it reading, 'I'm glad that you're mine; you're really divine.'

'You didn't,' he said, eyeing the package suspiciously. She didn't.

'Open it!' she prompted impatiently, unable to conceal her enthusiasm.

Resigned to his fate, Harry did his best to suppress the grin that was fighting to emerge on his face as he tore open the wrapping to reveal exactly what he was expecting: a jar of pickled toads.

'They match your eyes!' she said, for all the world as if she'd just gotten him a bouquet of flowers or something else along those lines. She was very clearly trying not to laugh.

'Ha ha,' he said flatly, but he could not contain the affection he felt for her welling up inside him. The smile finally won out and he beamed back at her. They sat grinning at each other like loons for a decent while.

'I love you,' he finally said. 'You're absolutely ridiculous, but I love you.'

'"But"?' she questioned. 'I think you mean "And".'

He laughed along with her. 'You're right; I do.' He reached out and pulled her into a powerful hug, and the two of them held each other in the Room of Requirement, letting all of their pain and anxieties be squeezed away. For one beautiful evening, Harry's heart felt truly full.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

This chapter has been like, 98% done for six months. I got caught up doing a lot of other things, not the least of which being a five week run of The Play That Goes Wrong (absolutely hilarious – see it if you ever have a chance) and of course all the rehearsals that entails leading up to it. Afterwards I just sort of never got back into the groove. I'm working on rectifying that.