The Return of the Griffin

Chapter Two

Harry was in the old transfiguration classroom. Rodney Jeffries was standing on Professor McGonagall's desk in flowing white robes calling out, "BELIEVE!" then he bounced down to stand in front of Harry. "What happens when you believe, but you believe you can't?" he asked. As he spoke, his robes changed from white, to a deep, dark red.

Then the scene changed. Harry was standing on the window ledge outside the Charms room. "I've never flown this way before," he murmured as he felt his body contort and change into its animagus form. He sat on the ledge for a moment, enjoying being a griffin again. He jumped from the window, and flapped his great golden wings. He watched as a Hebridean Black dragon watched curiously from the North Tower. Down, down he fell, his wings not helping him to gain altitude. He was swooping lower than he would even if he was doing a Wronski feint. He knew he was going to crash.

The scene changed again. Harry was standing on a stretch of remote moor. The low growing gorse was in full golden bloom around him. Maggie was standing a few yards away. In a voice similar to the one she had used when they left Azkaban, she spoke, looking at him with unseeing eyes.

A gift that was given,

And yet not received.

Something not taken,

But yet you are deceived.

The griffin lies in darkness,

The serpent holds the key.

A plague will unshield his eyes,

And once again he'll see.

The moor disappeared under him, as his golden wings spread out. He flew again, finding himself once more over the Forbidden Forest. He could make out the lights of Hogsmeade, and the towers of Hogwarts. He was getting tired, and then he saw a light flicker on the astronomy tower. He swooped and landed on the parapet. Ginny was there, wrapping her arms into his deep golden fur.

Harry jerked awake. Ginny murmured in her sleep, her hand over his chest. He reached for the pen and paper on the nightstand, careful not to move Ginny. He clicked the pen on, the bottom portion filling with light enough to write by. Quickly, he tried to write out as much of Maggie's prophecy as possible. Perhaps it was just a dream. But even Trelawney had made some correct prophecies. He flicked the pen back off, settling back carefully. He wrapped his arm around Ginny a bit tighter, stared at the dark ceiling and tried to fall back to sleep.

* * *

Harry woke to an elbow in his ribs. "What? Huh?" he muttered as his eyes squinted open. Ginny pecked his cheek and bounced out of bed.

"Rise and shine slugabed!" she sang out, giggling.

"You're awfully chipper this morning," Harry replied, still trying to get his eyes to open fully.

"You're going to come to school today, remember? The girls are having their championship quidditch match! Davey wants to watch, and it means a lot to me for you to be there." She smiled over her shoulder at him. She pulled her periwinkle colored robes over her head. "Well, come on! We need to get moving!" She grabbed the bottom of the blanket and gave it a tug.

"All right! All right!" Harry swung his legs over the side. "Don't forget to wear robes, Harry."

"I know, Ginny, I know," he answered. To enter Criesham Hall, you needed to be in wizard robes.

"Oh, before I forget..." Ginny walked in front of Harry and pointed her wand at his scar. "Induco maculo."

Harry's forehead shimmered for a moment, until his scar disappeared behind the magical cosmetic. Only the headmistress knew his true identity, and when they first came, Harry appreciated the privacy. Now though, it was more just habit.

Davey padded into the room, singing loudly, "Quidditch! Quidditch! I get to go, I get to go!" Ginny chuckled softly.

"Think he's excited?" Harry smiled back.

"Well, young man. We need to get you and your sister ready. Go get your robes, and eat some breakfast, but no Pixie Dusties today." Davey looked about to argue, then stopped himself. More quietly, he sang, "Quidditch quidditch! I get to go!" as he bounced back to his room.

"Did we have that sort of energy when we were kids?" Harry asked, shaking his head.

"I imagine so. Mum used to complain all the time. Fred and George were the worst, of course. It was like they fed off each other."

Harry finished getting dressed quietly, rolling his socks up his calves.

Ginny finished brushing her hair, and left the room to get Victoria up. Harry stood up and started to brush his hair.

"Perhaps you should consider a crew cut," the mirror said.

"Ha ha, very funny," Harry answered as he walked out the door.

When he got downstairs, Ginny had already started feeding the children. Harry grabbed a piece of toast off the table and headed outside.

"No time for a run, Harry!" Ginny called out to his back. He nodded but continued outside.

"Sandy?"

"Good morning, Harry Potter." Sandy slithered out from under the foxgloves at the corner of the house. She came up to the step where Harry sat down.

"Would you like to go to Cresheim with us today? Ginny's girls are having their final quidditch match today."

"That would be nice. Mornings are still too chilly for my taste." Harry held his arm out and Sandy slithered up it, curling herself around his arm, with her head resting on his shoulder.

"Comfortable?"

"Yes, but please remember which side I'm on. Victoria likes to poke me," Sandy reminded him. Indeed, last time he had Sandy and was holding Victoria, she tried poking and pulling at Sandy and then squealed in glee, when Sandy tried to move away from the abuse.

"How about I carry Tory, Sandy? Harry can hold Davey's hand," Ginny replied from the open door.

"Thank you. That would do nicely," Sandy hissed.

"Mommy, how are we getting there?" Davey tugged on her robes. Victoria was crawling up behind him.

"Floo, I think. Can't be walking the streets in our robes, now can we? Ready to go, Harry?" She bent over and touched his other shoulder.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He hoisted himself to his feet, dusting off his robes. Using the Floo always made him feel nervous, and doubly so once he lost his magic. He was always afraid he'd just walk into the flame and get torched.

He shut the front door behind him, and walked over to the fireplace, while Ginny put a locking charm on the door.

Ginny picked up Tory then took out the floo powder. "Davey, you hold Daddy's hand, okay?" she turned to say.

"Yes, Mommy," he obviously had heard this before. His small hand curled into Harry's larger one.

"Take a pinch sweetie."

Davey reached in then tossed it on the fire. "Cresheim Hall, Ginny Weasley's office," he spoke clearly, then pulled Harry through the flames with him. A moment later, Harry was in his wife's office still being pulled by Davey. As soon as they cleared the fire, Davey was off, rushing around the office.

It was a comfortable office. Harry felt at home here, with the brooms that needed repair in one corner, and the smell of polishing wax. His own Firebolt was here. Ginny had taken it over when he could no longer fly. He saw it hanging over her cluttered desk, and he smiled.

"You know what I won't miss?" Ginny asked as she popped into the room. "I won't miss American brooms. They just can't make them like at home. I'd rather have a Comet compared to one of these." She pointed in disgust at the pile of brooms in the corner.

"Three of them were jinxed. Not a single anti-jinx spell on them and two of them had wonky breaking spells. They would only stop if you said 'Whoa!' Then there's the construction of the brooms themselves. Have you seen the new Frespa?" she shook her head. "It's made of pine. PINE!" Ginny took a deep breath and laughed at herself. "Sorry."

Harry chuckled with her. "No need. Who in their right mind would make a broom out of pine?" Ginny smiled up at him, hugging him tightly.

"I always get like this before a game, don't I?"

"Yep. But then, I used to get nervous too. It's cute." Harry hugged her back. "Do you need help with anything?"

Ginny looked back up at him. "Not really, unless you want to help me bring down the ball crate. I'll carry Victoria, and you can hang out on the pitch."

"That's fine. Come on Davey, let's follow mum." He hefted the box off a shelf, and walked out the door. He followed the short, tree shaded trail down a hill to the pitch. Davey followed, bouncing up and down behind him, still singing his quidditch song.

The pitch was quite different than the one at Hogwarts, or the one he'd been at when he briefly played for Wales. For starters, it was smaller. Everything seemed to be designed for better hiding. The rings were lower to the ground than standard, though he could swear the rings themselves were larger. The stands were set under the towering trees, which crowded the pitch, making it quite sheltered.

He remembered the first year Ginny had taught here. She'd come home fuming about bloody American Quidditch rules. Like muggle games, the Americans changed rules to suit them. In European Quidditch, there were 700 different fouls that could be called. Americans didn't like having to remember that many so only the ten listed in Quidditch Through the Ages were kept. The most irritating rule that American Quidditch added, however, was a time limit. Harry shook his head. A time limit. What were they thinking? Who would find the Snitch?

He found the answer to that irritating question three years ago. It was a rather difficult match, that one--it ran five hours. At the fifth hour bell, the Snitch (along with the rest of the balls) zoomed back into their crate. American balls were enchanted to only stay in play for that long. No balls--no game; and the winner was called by points.

Even with all the changes, it was still nice to watch Quidditch again. Harry only attended the last game of the year, but every year it got easier. He actually started looking forward to them now, instead of wishing he could be up there chasing the snitch himself.

Harry dropped the crate in the center of the pitch for Ginny before turning to Davey.

"Whatcha got there, Davey?" he said looking at something Davey was holding in his hand.

"A Bowtruckle, Daddy. She jumped out to me from the oak tree next to the path."

Ginny caught up. "There are bowtruckles in that tree, Davey?" Davey nodded as the bowtruckle scrambled up to sit on Davey shoulder. "I'll have to remember to tell Headmistress Crandall. It will be nice to have a wand tree on the property, and I bet Professor McCready will like to know she has a close place for bowtruckles for her Magical Creature Study class." Ginny looked back as though to mentally mark the tree, then shifted Victoria to her other hip. She smiled as the bowtruckle gently tickled Davey behind his ear, causing him to giggle.

Ginny moved to Harry. "How DOES he do it?" she murmured. Harry didn't have an answer.

"Well, the girls will start coming down any minute. Why don't you all get up in the stands?"

Harry nodded and took Tory from Ginny, careful to carry her on the opposite side from Sandy who had been surprisingly quiet. Davey ran ahead, stomping up the stairs to the seats.

They had just reached the top of the stairs when the girls started coming down from the Hall. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, and felt the sunlit breeze blow against his face with the sounds of excited voices in the distance. He opened his eyes just in time to see Tory trying to pull Sandy's tail.

"Victoria Lily Potter. You cannot do that! Do you want to hurt Sandy?" Sandy tightened her coils around Harry's arm. "Now you stop that!" he scolded. Tory looked stunned at him, then reached up to pull his hair.

Davey was standing at the rail, looking out over the field, jumping up and down in excitement, and singing "Quidditch! Quidditch!" at the top of his lungs. Ginny was flying around the pitch, checking that the rings didn't have any jinxes on them, or bulls-eye charms on them. Harry watched her. Her red hair was pulled back in a braid now, making her look much younger, her lithe body effortlessly moving from one end of the field to the other, her robes flowing in the wind.

"She is lovely, isn't she?" Professor Crandall sighed. "Ah, to be young again." Harry stood as the headmistress entered the box. "Such manners are wasted on me, Mr. Weasley." She winked at him. "Take a seat and visit with me." He sat back down, and she sat at his side.

Professor Crandall looked much like he imagined Professor McGonagall looked like fifty years earlier, but with a bit more sense of humor. She was tall and thin, with patrician features, and long dark hair just turning silver twisted up under her hat. It was her eyes however that spoke of her personality. There were laugh lines around the eyes that looked as though they had done their share of mischief before settling for more subdued forms of humor.

"Good morning, Victoria! Look at how big you've grown." Tory smiled at her, putting her arms out. "Well, my goodness!" she chuckled, and took the infant out of Harry's arms, then bounced her on her knee.

Harry felt Sandy relax on his arm. "Thank you," she said.

Professor Crandall smiled at the hissing. "Sandy still doesn't feel too safe with Victoria, does she?"

"She was saying thank you. Tory likes to pull on anything right now. She's nothing like Davey was at that age."

"They're never the same," the headmistress sighed. "I hear we're losing the two of you. I'm not surprised, but I'm very saddened." she stopped to look directly at Harry. "The two of you are a credit, and you will both be missed in our little community," her voice softened, "and I'll miss these two young scamps!" she smiled as she hugged Tory to her. Davey turned when he heard "scamp".

"Professor Crandall!" He jumped up on the seat next to her and hugged her side.

"Young man, what is that you have on your shoulder?" she asked, seeing the small brown figure.

"A bowtruckle, ma'am! She jumped out to see me!" Professor Crandall looked up at Harry, giving him a piercing look.

"How amazing, Davey!" She watched as the bowtruckle patted Davey's cheek. "I didn't know we had any wand trees on the grounds. Which tree did it come from, Davey?"

"The oak tree on the path! I can show you when we leave!" Davey reached for her hand, tugging on it.

"You do that, Davey...after the match," she smiled down at him.

By this time, the box had gotten a bit more crowded, as the other staff not affiliated with a house clambered up inside. Good mornings were exchanged and everyone settled down, as the children began to cheer as the teams came out onto the pitch. An older student across the way began commentating.

"Welcome, Ladies to the final Cresheim Hall Quidditch Match of the Year!" The crowd cheered loudly, before she could continue.

" In Black and Gold, The Chatham Ravens! Captain and Seeker Selena Crenshaw; Chasers: Eva Brent, Joanne Manton and Roberta Sanchez; Beaters: Dora Ublitzky and Denise Cavannaugh; And Raven keeper Jessica Anderson!"

The girls flew once around the field as they were called, and took up their position over the center, while half the crowd screamed and cried out, waving black and gold banners. Harry smiled and pointed out to Davey how many of the supporters had cawing ravens perched on their hats.

"And our other team, in blue and white, The Mantic Fliers! Anna Bergen, chaser and captain, Teresa Kimler, and Esperanza Rodriquez her fellow chasers. Beaters, Cara Dunfrey and Edith Hamil! Keeper, Emily Wilder, and seeker Erica Maddox!"

The crowd cheered once more.

"Professor Weasley wishes to say a few words!"

"Good morning ladies! I want to see a fair game! And before all the rumors turn into truth--yes, this is my last game with you. My family and I must return to England, but my home will always be open to a student of mine!"

An outcry came up from the stands. Even the girls above her began calling out.

"Girls! We have a game! I want to remember this as the best game Cresheim Hall has ever had! On the whistle!"

Ginny blew the whistle once she saw the look of concentration return to the players' faces. The keepers zipped to their goals as she tossed up the quaffle. The snitch dodged past her, and flew up into the air. As soon as the chasers were moving, Ginny released the bludgers.

It was different to watch Quidditch than to play it, Harry decided. His eyes still ranged for the snitch. The Raven's seeker was spiraling, narrowly avoiding a bludger. The Mantic's chaser was amazing. Her turns and rolls were so sharp, and she managed to squeeze into the tightest spots.

"And the Mantic Fliers score! 10 points! Great job, Anna!"

A bludger hit by a Raven beater nearly collided with Anna as she did a sloth roll.

"Wow, Daddy did you see that! That was cool!" Davey stood up against the railing.

The game continued with the Mantics in near constant control of the quaffle. The Raven's keeper had only managed to stop two so far and they had only scored three goals. Harry looked around for the Mantic's seeker. She was low to the ground, hanging out beneath the Raven's goals.

What is she doing? She'll never see the snitch flying close to the ground, he thought. It was as he was thinking this that he saw the snitch, flying midfield. It was right above where Ginny had released the quaffle. Harry was not the only one who saw it though.

"The Raven seeker dives! Does Erica see the snitch?"

The Mantic's seeker looked up, and a look of horror spread across her face. She flattened against her broom, racing Selena for the snitch, but it was too late.

"Selena Crenshaw catches the Snitch! The Ravens win, 170 to 130!"

The stands erupted as the teams flew to each other. They lined up, and shook the other teams hands while in flight, then settled to the ground in a huddle, cheering and commiserating.

"Hey! What is the spell to end announcing?" the poor girl cried out. Someone hollered out, "Quietus, Nilla!" and the girls all laughed.

Harry watched Ginny fly up to him, and land in front of him and the headmistress. She had tears in her eyes. The headmistress handed Tory back to Harry and whispered "Accio trophy". Over the treetops, a silver cup flew and landed in the Headmistress's hand. "Sonorus."

"Ladies, as with every year, it has been a pleasure to watch you learn and grow. The changes I've seen in you on the quidditch field are only eclipsed by what I have seen in the classroom. You are models of Cresheim Hall and you've ALL done me proud! I share with you the distress in having Professor Weasley leave us after six years, but friends are really never far from our hearts. An Excellent year, ladies. A truly excellent year!"

She held the trophy out to Jessica and Selena, who carried it to the rest of their team amongst cheers and caws.

"A truly excellent year indeed, Professor Crandall," Ginny whispered.