Harry Potter and the Wizard's Apprentice

Chapter Ten

The Only Stupid Question

Harry awoke early the next morning to the patter of rain falling steadily outside his window and resigned himself to the fact that he would not be practising Quidditch with Ron today. Sighing, he reluctantly threw the covers back and got dressed quietly, as to not wake the others. He decided that since he was awake, he would go on up to the Owlery to write Lupin. He wanted to ask about Sirius' other mirror.

Harry stooped and rummaged through his trunk until he found what he was looking for-- the enchanted parchment and quill that Hagrid had given him for his birthday. As he did, he noticed the box that Aunt Petunia had given him weeks earlier. He crammed the two items into his robe pocket along with a new bottle of ink, and decided to come back and look through the box when he finished sending off his letter.

As he walked to the Owlery, his footsteps echoed hauntingly in the corridors. He seemed to be the only person awake. He reached the door without incident and pushed it open, scanning the rafters for his snow-white owl.

"Hedwig," he called softly, spotting her high up in a corner. "I've got a letter to send Lupin; come down and sit with me while I write." She just looked back at him, opening and closing her yellow eyes lazily--all the while looking utterly non-plussed.

Harry frowned. "Come on, what's the matter with you?" Hedwig blinked at him and, almost grudgingly, lifted her wings to fly down and settle on his shoulder.

"Now, was that so hard?" he chided her, stroking her feathers gently. "Honestly, you're moodier than Ron."

She nipped his ear with affection, although it seemed half-hearted. Harry wrote the letter quickly. He kept to the point and only asked if Lupin knew anything of Sirius' other mirror because his stomach was already rumbling for breakfast.

Harry tied the parchment onto her leg and stroked Hedwig's feathery head one last time. "To Lupin, okay?" She just cocked her head sideways, looking at him quizzically.

"Well, what are you waiting for? I haven't got any treats, if that's what you're after. Go on then." Hedwig blinked one more time before soaring up and gliding out the window, in the same slow, methodical way. Harry frowned again. It was not like Hedwig to be lazy, even if she was angry with him. He thought about asking Hagrid if he had ever heard of owls acting all wonky from time to time, but decided he was overreacting.

He walked to the nearest window to watch her fly away. It was then that he noticed three figures scurrying across the grounds to Hagrid's cabin. The first two he was able to make out instantly--Professors McGonagall and Snape. He pushed his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose and squinted. Was that... yes, it was definitely Arthur Weasley. Harry could see the sun glinting off his balding head. He turned and hurried down the stairs, hoping that Ron was already at breakfast.

He entered the Great Hall slightly out of breath, and was pleased to see that both Ron and Ginny were sitting at the Gryffindor table. "Great," he said pulling a plate of toast towards himself and sitting across from Ron. "Just the two people I wanted to see."

"Why?" Ron asked suspiciously. "You haven't got yourself into trouble already, have you? It's only breakfast. Where have you been?"

"The Owlery," Harry said, with a touch of impatience. "Never mind about that, guess who I saw walking to Hagrid's cabin with McGonagall and Snape?"

"No idea," Ron said glibly. "Hagrid?"

Harry threw a bread crust at him. "Don't be such a berk. It was your dad."

"You're joking," Ron exclaimed, and his eyebrows shot up so high they threatened to disappear under his hair. He glanced at Ginny. "Why wouldn't he tell us he was coming to visit? Wonder what he's doing here..."

Ginny continued eating, and looked completely unsurprised.

"What?" Ron demanded. "Do you know something?"

She shrugged, calmly taking a sip of pumpkin juice before speaking. "I expect he's here to see about Hagrid's giants."

Ron choked on the hard-boiled egg he was eating, and Harry had to reach across the table to thump him on the back.

"How do you know about that?" Ron spluttered, attempting to catch his breath.

"That's for me to know, and you to never find out," she said smiling in a very self-satisfied, irritating sort of way. Harry thought it was very reminiscent of how the twins had looked whenever they were up to something, which had been most of the time.

"I will tell you this," she continued. "I think they're going to see if Hagrid can teach the giants to guard Azkaban. Charlie told me that the dragons weren't... working out so well, and they've abandoned the idea of using them."

"They've lost it," Ron exclaimed. "Stark, raving mad the lot of them. Although this is Hagrid we're talking about..."

Ginny glanced up suddenly. "Hey budge over," she said, elbowing Ron in the ribs. "Dean just came in; I told him I'd save him a seat."

"Nah, forget it," Ron said standing. "We're supposed to visit Hermione after breakfast anyway. C'mon Harry."

Harry stood, grabbing another piece of toast to eat on the way. "Want to join us later?" he asked Ginny.

"Wish I could," she said regretfully. "But I'm going to be in library all day. I've got loads of homework already."

He turned to leave, bumping into Seamus and Dean as he did so. "Hullo," he said smiling at them both.

"Morning," Seamus replied cheerfully. His hair was sticking up straight in the back, and he still had imprints of his sheets across his left cheek. Dean nodded politely but said nothing.

"Have you noticed Dean acting peculiarly?" Harry asked Ron once they were out of earshot.

"Well, I've always thought he was a funny bloke." Ron said, pausing at the foot of the stairs outside the Great Hall. "Ginny needs to get rid of him. She could do so much better."

Harry laughed. "Ron, you wouldn't like anyone Ginny dated."

"That's not necessarily true," Ron said cautiously, with a funny look on his face.

"Anyway," Harry said, looking around. "Why are we stopped here?"

"I've go to run up and get books for Hermione, so that she can study for a change. Want to wait here?"

"No," Harry said. "I want to get something as well."

Once they entered their dorm room, Harry went straight to his trunk and picked up the box he had hidden underneath all of his old robes.

"What's that?" Ron asked, peering over Harry's shoulder, his arms laden with several thick textbooks.

"It's this box of stuff Aunt Petunia gave me for my birthday this summer. I've been meaning to show it to you and Hermione. Now's as good of a time as any, I suppose."

"Cool," Ron said, looking interested. "Say, I didn't know your aunt even knew when your birthday was."

Hermione peered into the box. Harry was pleased to see how much better she looked than yesterday. She appeared to be well rested, and some of the colour had returned to her cheeks.

"Yeah, go figure," Harry said, shrugging. He and Ron sat in their usual places on either side of her hospital bed.

"Was this really your house?" Ron asked, holding up a worn newspaper clipping. "Hey, I think I see Dumbledore..." He squinted at the black and white photo, and turned it sideways to get a better look.

"What's this, Harry?" Hermione asked softly, pulling out a small notebook.

Harry swallowed. "It was my mum's journal, as far as I can tell. But there's nothing written in it that I can see."

"We thought that about Riddle's diary too, mate," Ron said, standing to get a better look.

"I know!" Harry exclaimed. "But I tried writing on it, and nothing happened. Except, well, now it's been scribbled in."

"Have you tried a Revealer?" Hermione asked, already reaching for her knapsack.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I've tried all of the obvious things. That's why I wanted you two to have a go at it... at the journal, I mean," he added, reddening slightly. Ron snorted loudly.

"Well..." Hermione said slowly, and successfully ignoring them both. "I could keep it for a few days if you'd like, and try some different spells."

"Yeah, alright," Harry agreed, nodding at her.

"Now," Hermione said briskly. "You didn't get a chance to tell me about your visit to Hagrid's yesterday. How is he?"

Ron shook his head. "Well, he's definitely in full force. He's got a colony of giants hidden in the Forbidden Forest."

"A colony? G-giants?" Hermione squeaked.

"Yeah, but don't worry, there's only twelve of them," Harry added sardonically.

"But they're not big giants?" she asked worriedly.

"Big giants? Hermione, that's why they're called giants. If they were tiny, they'd be called 'smalls' or something." Ron said, looking exasperated.

"No, small like Grawp," Hermione replied. Harry raised his eyebrows at her.

"I mean, small for a giant. Oh you know what I'm talking about!" she exclaimed, glowering at Ron and Harry's smirks.

"Well, we didn't think to ask anyway," Ron said.

"How is he keeping them hidden then?" she persisted. "Surely some of them are taller than the trees. Students are bound to notice."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"We... didn't think to ask," Harry said finally.

"Never mind," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I'll ask him myself on Tuesday when we have Care of Magical Creatures."

"That's not all, though," Ron said quickly. "Harry saw my dad at Hagrid's hut this

morning. Ginny reckons they may be trying to train the giants to guard Azkaban."

"Well, they couldn't be any worse than the dragons," she said thoughtfully, chewing on a

piece of her hair.

"Listen to this," Harry said, leaning forward. "Ron and I went down to the kitchens last

night..."

"House elves lose some of their power if they leave their home?" Hermione cried after

hearing Harry and Ron recount the events of the previous evening. "What rubbish. No wonder I

am having such a hard time convincing them to be free. There must be something I can do..."

her voice trailed off, and Harry could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

Hermione looked up suddenly. "What about Winky? How is she doing?"

Harry was startled. Now that she mentioned it, he hadn't seen Winky among the elves in

the kitchen.

"She wasn't there," he explained.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Well, where was she?"

Ron swallowed audibly. "We, er... didn't think to ask?"

Hermione buried her face in her hands. "Fine inspectors you two make," she grumbled.

"Don't want to be an inspector," Ron said. "I've never looked good in tweed."

Harry looked around the room for something else to talk about, and spotted a folded copy

of The Daily Prophet on the nightstand next to the bed.

"Anything good in the paper?" he asked, picking it up.

Hermione lifted her head, scowling slightly at it. "I guess it depends on what your

definition of 'good' is. People are still attacking each other, and if you read between the lines, it

looks like the Ministry is clueless and its resources are draining trying to settle petty disputes. If

I had to guess, I'd say it's all being done to distract the Ministry from something else. If that's

the case, then it's working." She sighed, "Other than that, there is not much else mentioned,

except details about a memorial for Fudge planned soon."

"Can I see it?" Ron asked, reaching across the bed towards the paper. As he did, his

arm hit Harry's box, knocked it off the bed, and sent its contents flying.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, as Harry stooped to retrieve his things. Harry made a face at Ron

and reached for the journal, which had landed under the bed adjacent to Hermione's. As he

stretched his arm out, the silvery scar on the back of his hand caught his eye. It was the scar he

earned in Dolores Umbridge's detentions last year. Blood writing. A thought struck him so hard

he jumped, hitting his head on the underside of the bed.

"Oww!" he cried, clutching at his head and standing. Ron and Hermione stared at him.

"I, uh, stood up too fast," he said sheepishly. "I'm going to go... I forgot I needed to

do... something."

He took the box from Ron, and ran from the infirmary up to his dorm, leaving Ron

and Hermione to stare bewildered at his back. Once there he scanned the room for what he

needed. His eyes fell on a muggle penknife sitting on Dean's bedside table. He grabbed it, and

clambered onto his bed, drawing the curtain around him.

"Let it work," Harry whispered and opened the journal, laying it across his lap. He took a

deep breath and picked up the knife. After flipping it open, he cut a small gash across the palm

of his hand and let several drops of blood splatter across the page.

Harry blinked. The crimson coloured liquid spread out across the paper in thin spidery

lines, finally forming into neat, cursive handwriting before turning black. He picked up the

book and flipped through it, feeling awestruck. Harry realised that the journal was deceptively

thin as there were hundreds of entries spanning several years. He picked one close to the

beginning and read:

December 18^th, 1976

The headaches have returned worse than ever. I hadn't had one

in a few days, and hoped it was all over. I just could've cried in

Charms today when the all too familiar throbbing returned. The

school nurse may know what's wrong with me, but I am almost

afraid to ask. What if it is something horrible? I might rather

not know. I need to talk to someone, I feel so alone...

Harry sat back, stunned. It felt so strange to read his mother's words; she sounded so

young. He looked back at the date written above the entry-- December 1976. That made her the

same age as Harry was now. She must've been in her sixth year at Hogwarts when she wrote this.

He turned to the next page, but found no further mention of her headaches.

Harry read on for hours, losing complete track of time, until the next thing he knew, Ron

was shaking his shoulder and bright light was streaming through the gap in his curtains.

"Harry, c'mon mate, I know you need your beauty rest, but you've been asleep for

about twelve hours now."

Harry groaned and struggled to sit upright, his joints aching from lying so long in one

position. The journal slipped off his chest and fell to the bed. Ron picked it up and looked at

it curiously. Harry noticed that the pages were blank again.

"Hey, were you able to read it?" Ron asked with interest.

"Yeah," Harry said, stretching and yawning. "Must've fallen asleep doing so. What

time is it?"

"Breakfast just started. You slept through dinner and everything. Did you find out

anything interesting?" he asked, gesturing towards the journal.

"I sure did," Harry said. "But let me tell you on the way to breakfast, I'm starved."

He had just finished telling Ron how he figured out the way to read the journal and what

he had found out when Hermione joined them at their table in the Great Hall, after being released

from the infirmary, and he had to start all over again.

"Wow," Hermione said once she heard his story. "I didn't even consider using blood. I

bet it only works for you because you share your mother's blood. I doubt it would work for Ron

or me."

Harry swallowed a mouthful of eggs and nodded. "I bet you're right."

"And you didn't learn anything else about those headaches?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not really. The last I remember reading was... early March of

1977, I think. She only mentioned briefly that she was still having headaches off and on." He

paused as he spotted Katie Bell approaching them, looking determined.

"Potter," she said, eyeing him sharply. "You're not sick are you?"

"No," he said, taken aback. "Why, do I look like it?" His hand went automatically to his

hair as he tried to flatten it down. He was keenly aware that he had forgotten to brush it this

morning, and was still wearing the same robes from yesterday.

"No," Katie replied, "but I didn't see you at dinner last night, and Weasley here said you

were sleeping."

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "I was just... well, sleeping."

"Let's hope you're rested now, we've got Quidditch practise after dinner

tonight."

"Great," Harry said, genuinely looking forward to it. "I may be a little late though--I

have to meet with Professor Dumbledore first."

She glared at him. "Can you skip it? We've got a lot of players to replace, and I need all

hands on deck."

"No," Harry said firmly.

"Well be there as soon as you can, then." She gave one last irritable look at him, before

joining some of her friends down at the other end of the table.

Ron leaned forward. "Why is it that everyone goes insane when they become Quidditch

captain?"

Harry sighed. "I dunno, but at this rate I'm never going to have time to finish reading

that journal. I've got those meetings with Dumbledore and with Snape, and Quidditch

practise..."

"And DA meetings," Ron said.

"And Animagus potion brewing," Hermione added with a smug look.

Harry and Ron turned to look at her, surprised.

She grinned. "I thought we could start Wednesday before the DA meeting. That reminds

me, Harry, we need to talk to Tonks and make sure that it is alright with her."

"Okay," Harry said. "We'll see her tomorrow in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Right," Hermione said, standing and glancing at her watch. "We'd best get a move on,

or we'll be late for Herbology."

Ron stretched lazily before standing reluctantly and gathering his backpack. Harry

followed him and Hermione from the Great Hall, where he promptly ran into Ginny as she

rounded the corner.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "I'm glad I saw you." She glanced up at Ron, who was listening with keen interest. "Go away. It's none of your concern," she said bluntly, while giving Harry a meaningful stare.

"It's okay," Harry said, nodding at Ron and Hermione. "I'll catch you up."

"Fine. Whatever. Keep your nasty little secrets then," Ron grumbled, grabbing Hermione's hand and leading her towards the large double doors opening to the grounds outside.

"Don't forget we're in Greenhouse four today," Hermione called to Harry over her shoulder, her cheeks slightly pink.

"What's the matter?" he asked, turning to face Ginny.

"Thursday night I want you to meet me in the common room after everyone has gone to bed," she said matter-of-factly.

Harry felt his body give an involuntary jerk. "Wha- why?" he stammered.

"You prat," she said, laughing good-naturedly. "I mean, I want you to meet me so that we can plan our first prank. There's something I want to try out on the Slytherins."

"Oh! Right!" Harry said, feeling his heart start to beat again. "Okay then, what did you have in mind?"

She glanced up the corridor at a group of oncoming second years. "Not now, there are a few things I need to work out first anyway. I'll just tell you everything on Thursday."

"Oh. Right." Harry said again. He wondered why his vocabulary had suddenly shrunk to the size of Crabbe's or Goyle's. "I'd best get to class anyway."

They walked down the hall until Ginny paused to turn up the stairwell to Gryffindor Tower.

"See you at practise tonight?" Harry asked her.

"With bells on," she said, flashing him a grin and running up the stairs.

By the time Harry reached Greenhouse four, Professor Sprout had already begun her lesson. To Harry's great surprise, standing next to her was Neville Longbottom looking worried, but resolved.

He tried to slip quietly into a seat next to Ron and Hermione without Professor Sprout noticing, but failed miserably. "Five points, Mr. Potter, for being late. On the first day of my class, no less," she said, frowning at him.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, hurriedly pulling out his text. He could almost feel Hermione's irritation at losing points coming off her in waves.

"If you'll kindly join the rest of the class in turning to page twelve, we will continue our lesson on the Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Mr. Longbottom has been good enough to bring in his own plant from home to share with us today," Professor Sprout continued.

Harry jerked his head up. He had only just realised that sitting on the trestle bench in front of him was not a small tree as he had first thought, but was indeed the Mimbulus Mimbletonia that Neville had shown him on the train last year. Harry hardly recognised the plant. It was much thicker, and had grown at least another foot in height. It also seemed to be pulsating with some sort of warm red light.

Neville cleared his throat loudly. "Yes. Right then. This- this is the Mimbulus Mimbletonia, as you know. Be- because Professor Sprout just said that, of course." He shuffled his feet nervously and Harry heard a few students in the back titter.

Neville straightened suddenly, and placed his hand on the top of the plant. It glowed a deep red colour. Then, with seemingly newfound determination, Neville went on with his lecture with the strongest voice Harry had ever heard him use. "The Mimbulus Mimbletonia has many magical properties. Because of this, it is extremely useful in various different potions..."

Ron poked him in the ribs with a bony elbow.

"What?" Harry mouthed. Ron tilted his head slightly, and looked over his shoulder. Harry followed his gaze and saw that a group of Slytherins, including Draco Malfoy, was sitting directly behind them.

Harry scowled. "Great choice of seats," he muttered sarcastically. "We're never going to get rid of them, are we?"

Malfoy looked up at them, and glared malevolently. Harry bit back an angry comment as he realised that Neville had finished talking and that Professor Sprout had walked over to the enormous plant.

"Very good. Now, Mr. Longbottom, why don't you demonstrate to the rest of the class how the Mimbulus Mimbletonia is able to defend itself?"

Harry groaned as Neville reached to poke at the plant with a feather tip quill. "Duck!" he hissed, pulling Ron and Hermione down to the floor. It was just in time. No sooner had their heads disappeared under the table, than an enormous stream of stink sap shot out of the plant and landed directly on... Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Pansy shrieked and grabbed on to Draco, causing them to both slip and fall on the goo covering the floor. The greenhouse filled with laughter.

"Oh, dear," Neville said, looking distraught. "I thought I had fixed that..."

"Classic," Ron chortled and even Hermione could not repress a giggle.

Draco and Pansy were drenched, and Draco's hair was soaked in the slimy, oozing sap. Harry grinned at Malfoy, who now looked murderous.

"Oh, dear," Professor Sprout said, hurrying forward. She had the appearance of someone trying hard not to laugh. "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Parkinson, you are excused. Go on back to the castle and get changed."

"You'd better hope this stuff's not poisonous, Longbottom," Draco said menacingly, shooting daggers out of his eyes at Neville. "As it is, you're going to buy me new robes. Good thing you're not Weasley or you wouldn't be able to afford it." He turned and stomped out, slamming the greenhouse door behind him before Professor Sprout had time to reprimand him.

"That would be a bit more effective if he didn't look like a drowned rat," Ron said. Both Harry and Hermione laughed heartily.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, although it left Harry with a bit more homework than he would have liked. After their last class, Transfiguration, he hurried up to Gryffindor Tower to drop off his backpack and grab his Firebolt before heading back down to the Great Hall for a quick supper before meeting Dumbledore.

"Welcome, Harry," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat slightly as Harry entered his office. "Good day?"

"Erm, I guess," Harry answered, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. He was anxious to get started, and would rather skip the pleasantries.

"Have a seat." Dumbledore gestured to a plump armchair sitting across the desk from him. "Now," he said, once Harry was settled. "I had planned on teaching you Occlumency; however, by the recent decline of Professor Snape's already surly behaviour, I judge that you may already have found someone to practise with?"

Harry nodded. "I thought that Sn- Professor Snape would offer a greater... um, challenge."

"Indeed. A wise decision, Harry, I must say that I'm surprised."

Harry raised his eyebrows, causing Dumbledore to laugh. "Surprised that you would ask Snape, not surprised that you are capable of making a wise decision." Dumbledore stood then, and gestured that Harry do the same. "Wand out Harry. Today I want to teach you about conjuring magical shields. Have you learned anything about them in your personal studies?"

Harry nodded. "I've read about them. They last longer than Protego, the shield charm, and are stronger, as well."

"Excellent. That is correct. Now watch carefully. Contego." Dumbledore pointed his wand out straight, and immediately a shining, silver incandescent shield appeared before him. Harry was strongly reminded of the shield Dumbledore used when fighting Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic last year.

"Of course," Dumbledore continued. "Your shield can look like anything, it's simply a tool to help focus the magical power in your mind, much like a wand does." He let his wand drop, and the glimmering shield vanished. "Now, why don't you give it a try?"

"Okay," Harry said. He tried to concentrate on the image of a shield. Once he had it pictured in his mind he drew out his wand, and shoved up the sleeves of his robe. "Contego. Contego," he murmured, trying to get the feel of the word in his mouth.

"Contego!" he shouted and thrust his wand out before him. From its tip a perfectly shaped, ornate golden shield appeared... and it was about the size of one of Dobby's ears.

"Oh, my," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly. "A little less detail next time, perhaps? Focus more on size, and function."

"Right," Harry said, furrowing his brow.

They practised for another hour until Harry was able to form a medium sized, dull grey shield that blocked most curses. The only problem was, whenever he tried to cast another spell simultaneously, the shield would dissipate and fade away.

"Concentration is the key," Dumbledore explained. "It is very difficult to hold more than one spell at a time. Work on it this week, Harry, and we'll try it again when we next meet. I believe Miss Bell is expecting you down at the Quidditch pitch now?"

"Too right," Harry grumbled, remembering the Chaser's attitude regarding his being late to practise. "I do have one question, though," he said as he bent to pick up his broomstick, and headed towards the door.

"If your question is 'why do house elves love tea cozies so much', then I have no idea. Otherwise, ask away," Dumbledore said blandly.

Harry blinked. He never could figure out Dumbledore's sense of humour. "It's about our DA meetings," he said. "Our first one of the year is this week, and I was wondering how much you think I should teach them?"

"I assume you mean in regards to what you learn here?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded.

"It's an excellent question," Dumbledore sighed. Moreover, I'm afraid it's one without a straightforward answer. Do you teach your friends everything you know, so that they can best defend themselves, even against you? On the other hand, do you hold back, so that you will always have the upper hand? It is a sad day when one is not able to trust even his classmates. Decide as you will, Harry, but I believe that a clever wizard always leaves a few tricks up his sleeve, so to speak."

Quidditch practise was well under way by the time Harry reached the grounds. There were several clusters of Gryffindors spread out over the pitch, and Harry assumed there were separate groups for each position.

"Oy, Harry, over here!" Katie Bell called to him from the center of the pitch.

He trotted out to meet her, and she started talking as soon as he was within earshot.

"So, I've got different stations for those trying out for Chaser, Beater, and Keeper positions. No Seeker, however. Seems no one wanted to try to go up against you, Harry. Can't imagine why. I've been floating between the Beater and Chaser groups, and Ron has been with the Keeper group. He's none too happy about that, though. I keep telling him he's not going to be replaced, it's just a good idea to have a back up player, you know? Still, he looks a bit panicky. And I need you to take over the Beater group for a while, in my place. I want a chance to see everyone play. Can't be too careful, you know?"

She said all of this in one breath, and Harry wondered if she had a bit too much pumpkin juice to drink with her dinner.

Harry found that the groups of students trying out for the Beater position were very diverse. Jack Sloper was back, but not Andrew Kirke, who was last heard to have said that "Quidditch is for ninnys." Besides Jack, there were two boys in the third year who looked as if their body weight combined would still not equal Harry's--and that was saying something. However, a fifth year named Sal looked promising. He was athletic looking and was at least as tall as Ron. And, almost hidden behind the group was...

"Seamus?" Harry gasped. "I didn't know you were trying out!"

"I didn't know meself, until Dean talked me into it last night."

"Have you ever played before?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, loads of times," Seamus said, shrugging nonchalantly. "My primary school had a league during summer holiday."

"Cool," Harry said, grinning at him. "Well, let's get started then, shall we? Everyone pair off--that means groups of two," he said pointedly at Sal and the two third years who had clumped together.

"I didn't know math was going to be involved," the smallest boy complained loudly.

"Er, right," Harry said, exchanging a bemused look with Seamus. "Seamus, why don't you switch out with Jack occasionally since there's an odd number." He handed two Bludgers and clubs to Sal and Jack, and climbed onto his broom, rising a few feet in the air.

"Now, I'm going to fly around in circles above you all. What I want you both to do is try and hit me with your Bludgers."

"What, is that all?" Sal exclaimed loudly.

"Well," Harry said, feeling somewhat smug. "I think you'll find that it's more difficult to do than you thin--oof!" He flipped upside down quickly to keep from having his face smashed in by the Bludger, which resembled a great blue blur as it sped by. "Or not so difficult," he muttered under his breath, swinging himself upright.

Sal smiled broadly at him. "Must've been beginner's luck."

"Yes, well, better luck next time," Harry said crossly, clenching his jaws. He wasn't going to let this cheeky fellow top him again. For the next hour everyone continued to take turns aiming at him at the Bludger, but only Sal proved to be a challenge--although Harry was careful not to be bested. By the time that Katie indicated that practise was over he was exhausted, but exhilarated. It was great to be back at Quidditch.

"Well, what do you think?" Katie asked him enthusiastically after almost everyone had gone back up to the castle. "I, for one, am relieved. I was afraid everyone would be rubbish, but we've got quite a lot of talent to pick from, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Seamus is good, and that Sal--"

"Ooh, yes!" Katie exclaimed, practically jumping with excitement. "I saw that Bludger nearly take your head off. It was incredible!"

"Yeah, it was incredible alright," Harry said dryly, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed to have given himself whiplash.

"Of course," Katie continued without hearing him. "If we put Sal on the team, it will be the first female Beater that Gryffindor has had in ages."

Harry dropped the two Bludgers he had been holding. "What?! Sal is a girl? Are you sure?"

"Quite," Katie said firmly. "Her real name is Sally-Anne, or something, but she likes to go by Sal. I think she got held back a year. And, I'll admit, she is a bit of a tomboy."

"A bit! She- oh Merlin, I hope I didn't say anything stupid. I am such a prat."

"No arguments here," Ron said he as walked up. Ginny and Hermione, who had been watching from the stands, were close behind him.

"What's up?" Ginny asked quizzically, looking from Harry to Katie.

"He's only just realised that Sal was a girl," Katie said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione said exasperatedly. "What is it with you two? Sometimes I think that you and Ron have blinders on when it comes to girls." She exchanged a look with Ginny.

"Come off it," Ron protested. "I noticed you, didn't I?"

"Yes, well done," Hermione said. "It only took you five years."

"And a raging row in the Common Room," Harry added.

"Or two," said Ginny, smiling.

"Or three," Katie said.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Oh, yeah? Well do you know what I have to say about that?" he said, taking a step towards Hermione.

"No, what?" she said, frowning.

"This!" Ron grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, tickling her mercilessly.

"Ah!" Hermione shrieked. "No, Ron, stop!" However, she was laughing in spite of herself.

Ginny and Katie were giggling as well at the site of Hermione flailing helplessly against Ron's back. Harry smiled at his friends having fun, but suddenly felt very tired. His head was throbbing and all he wanted to do was lie down.

"I'm going to bed," he announced leaving them standing on the pitch as he walked alone up to the castle.

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