Harry Potter and the Emerald Sceptre

~~~~ Chapter 11 ~~~~

Slipping Back into a New Routine

Harry threw the doors open and charged into the Hospital Wing. The curtains were open and Katie was sitting up in her bed, drinking a glass of orange juice through a straw. Why had Madam Pomfrey left her alone? Harry could have kicked himself; he should have been here where he was needed, not chatting about what he had read over the holidays. That kind of pointless banter served no purpose; he had an obligation to be here when she woke up. He had failed his responsibility. She had been hurt on account of him and he didn't even have the honour to be there for her when she needed it. Dickhead, he cursed himself.

Remembering clearly every word that Madam Pomfrey had said, he slowly neared the bed and sat on the end of it. Katie looked up slowly, her eyes widened in fear and, in a flash; she flattened herself against the headboard. Harry sat unmoving, looking at her but trying not to stare or look imposing. Slowly she relaxed. She gave him an appraising look then as if something had dawned on her, her eyes grew wide and she threw her arms around him and burst into tears. She cried into his chest, Harry gently wrapped both his arms around her; he sat silently holding her, thanking God that she was all right. Tear after tear fell down her cheek. She sobbed in earnest, having suffered what few have felt yet millions fear, an ordeal that no one should ever have to go through. Harry felt mixed emotion; he was overjoyed that she was awake again, yet this mixed with a hatred of Malfoy stronger than ever before. He imagined that every one of her tears would be repaid in his blood when Harry got his hands on him. Harry saw Madam Pomfrey give him a nod and then slip into her office and close the door. They were alone now. Cho had risen and been dismissed, or she had run off, a common thing to do, given Madam Pomfrey's obsession with detaining students for rest. The only sounds that filled the room were her sobs.

The seconds ticked by; the tears kept coming, then she spoke through the sobs,

"Hold me, Harry, keep him away." Katie wept, her broken voice little more than a whisper.

"I will, Katie," soothed Harry, gently stroking her hair. "You're safe now. I won't let anything hurt you. Shhhh." Second ticked by, with them Harry's anger grew. Malfoy had caused this. Katie was a shadow of her former self. The once joyous girl who had stolen Harry's heart had been reduced to a nervous wreck by one boy's desire to spite another. That boy would pay for this.

"It was horrible!" whispered Katie, her sobs at last subsiding; her tears slowing. "I am in a dark room and he comes out of nowhere and he...he grabs me and...and then he...he rips my...my jeans off and I can't do anything about it, he's too strong...he hurts me...he... he fucks me...there is no other word for it. Brutally, over and over I am so scared Harry. No matter how hard I try I can't get him off. I scream and scream but no one comes." She dissolved back into tears, her arms clutched tightly to her chest. Harry gently started to rub her back, trying to comfort her.

"Shhhh," soothed Harry. "It's over now, he can't hurt you; just relax."

"But if I close my eyes, he's there." Katie sniffed.

"It isn't real Katie. Remember that; it isn't real."

She pulled her head away from his chest, looking longingly into his eyes, transfixing him like an Andrex Puppy. Tears were still glistening in her bloodshot eyes. Harry's heart melted as he stared back into hers. "Hold me," she pleaded. She gripped him tighter and Harry sighed. His pride had brought them to this. He should have handed himself to the Death Eaters and she would have been safe. It was a rational transaction, one life for hundreds; but no, he had to play the hero. The minutes passed as they sat there; at length Katie released him. She sat there a few inches from him shivering through her flimsy hospital gown.

"Lie back, Katie," soothed Harry. She did as she was asked; he pulled the bed sheets up around her neck. The warm bedclothes stopped her shivering, Harry rested a hand on her forehead and smiled; she closed her eyes and sighed. He gently stroked her hair until she had once again fallen to sleep, this time a sleep that she would wake from and a sleep from which she could escape. In hindsight, thought Harry, she should have had some dreamless sleep.

"Harry," whispered Madam Pomfrey from the doorway to her office. "Is she asleep?" Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off of Katie's sleeping form. "Her mother has arrived to see her; she is in the Entrance Hall. Would you go and bring her here?"

"I'll go," volunteered Harry. He rose and walked quietly out of the infirmary. He walked through the long winding passages down to the Entrance Hall to where Katie's mother was waiting. Walking gave him time to think. He realised, with no great thought, that this was precisely what Dumbledore had warned him about. He had to control his anger. This must be the psychological warfare that Voldemort was using. He had nothing against Katie; she was pureblood, well half wizard, half squib, which is nearer than Voldemort was. He was half wizard, half Muggle. He had just used her to get to Harry. That was the danger of being his friend. He had no right to put his friends through that. With a heavy heart, Harry realised that he would have to distance himself from his friends. At least he had kept the prophecy to himself, except for Katie and Remus, of course. Harry looked up to find that his feet had brought him to the Hall. Leaning against one wall, wearing a traveller's cloak was Amy Bell. Harry paused for a second before approaching. Her daughter had nearly died following Harry's instructions. He had put her there. How would she react? If someone nearly killed Harry's children he would tear them apart. How would she react? Maybe it wasn't the best idea to come and get her himself. He would have to face the music one day, but he would rather it not be now.

"Harry!" She had seen him. All hope of retreating unseen was gone. Harry tensed up, bracing for impact. It never came. "Harry, what happened, you look awful," she added when she came close enough to see the full damage of his eye and bruised face. His bruising had still not subsided. The left side of his face was still blue. He had a white plaster protecting a bump over his left eye and beneath the hair on the back of his head was another healing gash. No wonder he had scared Katie when she woke. He looked like something out of The Night of the Living Dead.

"I'll live," replied Harry quietly. "How was your trip?" He tried to make idle conversation, anything to delay the inevitable rollicking he was going to get.

"Less then pleasant," she replied briskly as Harry began to lead her up to the Hospital Wing. "I was sick with worry all the way from London. How is she?"

"She's been through a lot. From what I can tell, she is more or less all right. Madam Pomfrey says that the only trouble is mental damage, but she is strong and so I have high hopes." He led her towards the Hospital Wing. They walked in near silence for there was nothing much to say. The suited Harry as silence was better than the shouting, which although he deserved, he was not looking forward to. They both cared about one thing, Katie, and that was all that mattered. Harry decided that this was stupid; he had to say something. If she shouted so be it. It was her daughter and his fault. It would be better to get it off her chest. "I'm sorry," began Harry. "I put her in the position. I put her in danger."

"That you did," said Amy flatly. She stopped after a few more paces. She shot Harry a stare he could not read and then sighed. "I'm not going to lie to you, Harry. Nothing would please me more than to hit you. I left the house with every intention of screaming at you the second I saw you. But then, as I was coming down the slip road onto the M1, I realised that it wouldn't do any good. Kathryn has always been headstrong. If it hadn't been you it would have been someone else. I know full well that she has applied to the Aurors. I always knew she would fall in with Dumbledore's crowd and become her father's daughter. Then you come along. Trust me Harry, I know my own daughter. She loves you, she idolises you. She will follow you to her own death if she has to. That kind of faith and love can't be suppressed by anything. I realised this morning that my daughter has grown up. She has found a man she loves and a cause worth fighting for. You could have told her to stay on the train and she would have defied you. I can't blame you or anyone else for what happened"

"Thanks," said Harry weakly. They started walking again.

"You are blaming yourself for what happened. I can tell you as a fact that if she knew what was to happen she would have charged into it just the same. You saved a lot of lives yesterday, Harry. You carry the burden of what happened when you were a baby; don't carry the weight of the rest of us as well." They walked on in silence, Harry couldn't think of anything to say. When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, they stopped.

"Thanks, Harry," sighed Amy. "You should..." She paused but Harry got the message.

"Sure," he said. This was family time and he had no place there. Katie was asleep anyway so he wasn't missing anything.

He wandered down the stairs back towards the courtyard; he felt he needed fresh air. He was about halfway there when a sudden chill shot down his spin. He froze, and looked around him. He saw no one, but there was the feeling of being watched. After looking all around him, he slipped one hand into his pocket searching for his wand. Bollocks! Dumbledore had taken it.

"STUPEFY!" cried a voice. Harry threw himself to the floor, rolling over as he did so.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted as he rolled, the spell shot out of his outstretched hand and found its mark, striking the robed figure in the chest. Her wand sailed through the air and Harry caught it with his left hand. Harry jumped to his feet and held his newly acquired wand out in front of him, aimed directly between the eyes of his new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"On your toes; well done," her serious expression faded into a smile. Harry couldn't help but join her. He handed her back her wand "Seeya later, Harry," she said as she walked off. If she was going to persist on surprise tests like that around the school, he would have to be careful. Was this part of Dumbledore's training ideas for him or was it just her way of teaching? Plunging him in at the deep end as it were. Harry wondered if she did this to other students. That would give her a reputation, and Harry an extra thing to worry about.

The Duelling Club, which he was to start next Thursday, was going to cover Stunning and Shield Charms. These tests should boost attendance. That also gave him eight days to sort out something for the club to do. Suddenly his schedule seemed rather full. He had five NEWTs with four lessons apiece, the Duelling Club, Quidditch, and now he had to watch every corner in case Narcissa tried another test. How homework was going to fit was quite beyond him. Harry meandered up to the common room; he slumped into an armchair by the window and gazed out at the students playing on the lawn. At last he was alone.

His peace was short lived as he was, within seconds, interrupted by the arrival of Mark Wickaman, known to most as Wick. He was a year below him, in Ginny's year. He is the sort of person who redefines precocious. He is loud and has a vulgar sense of humour. He is the sort of person that if you know him he is a good guy, a good friend. If you don't, you view him as an arrogant tosser. Harry hardly knew him and as such fell into the latter category. He only interaction the two had had was when he had to restrain Ron from hitting him after he pinched Ginny's backside in the corridor right in front of him. He was one of the contenders to take over from Fred and George. He was loud and often funny but always rude and crude. Fred and George at least had taste...most of the time.

"Potter, you legend," called Wick across the disserted common room.

"Wickaman," responded Harry unenthusiastically without so much as turning his head.

"Make it Wick will you? I've been hearing good things about you, Harry. You and old Bellers. I have to say, good work old boy. I wouldn't mind a go myself, if you catch my drift." Harry didn't know whether to punch him, laugh at him or pity him. If he did touch her, the first option would definitely be called for.

"Are you quite finished?" asked Harry, wanting to end the conversation.

"Just about, thanks for asking," grinned Wick. "Say, have you seen that Zabini girl in your year? That girl is fit! The whole pale face and long black hair do wonders for her, not to mention certain other attributes. She's as saucy as a direct hit on a Heinz factory." Harry couldn't keep a straight face at that; he broke into a small laugh.

"I like the analogy."

"You've never heard it before? From Blackadder? I thought you were raised by Muggles?"

"I was, though the television was off limits."

"Blackadder is the greatest British comedy ever; it is my favourite video, with the possible exception of Jenna Jameson's latest outing."

"Fascinating," said Harry who, to be honest, didn't know who he was on about.

"Well, I have thoroughly enjoyed this little chin-wag," said Wick, "but you've managed to bore me, so I'm off. Seeya." He rose from his seat and disappeared out of the portrait hole.

"Thank Merlin he has gone!" came a soft voice from the corner. Harry turned to see Ginny come out from behind the chairs. "The last thing I want is bloody Wickaman making boob jokes. Believe me, Harry, you are lucky not to know him. Last year he decided to tell everyone in the year that I put socks in my bra. He is a nightmare."

"I suppose it is funny if you are not the victim," said Harry. He vaguely remembered hearing this rumour, but he never paid it much attention. He had had bigger fish to fry, namely Umbridge.

"It was for him, and almost every other male member of my year. I was called Pancake Chest for about a month."

"Does he still call you that?"

"No, not after the end of the year when they came to see us in hospital. According to him, the hospital gown was tight enough to let him know the truth. It was, I quote, "The sexiest thing you've ever worn."

"Bit of a charmer isn't he," said Harry. Ginny giggled.

"So..." Harry began. For the life of him, he couldn't think of something to say. "Katie's awake," he said feebly.

"That's good," said Ginny softly. " I know how much you care for her." Harry looked over at her.

"What about you Ginny? Anyone you care for?" asked Harry. Ginny paused, she looked him long and hard in the eyes, Harry could see that she was considering how to phrase her answer, or even how to answer.

"No," she said at last, in scarcely more than a whisper. "There's no one, except you of course."

"Look, Ginny," began Harry.

"No, Harry. Listen to me." Ginny cut him off. "I have loved you for years. That is no secret. Ever since I saw you on the platform, and now you are with Katie and I am happy for you, Harry. If anyone deserves love it is you. I just want you to know that I'm here. I care about you, Harry. If you ever need any help you can trust me." Harry saw her eyes begin to glisten. He reached forwards and pulled her into a soft hug.

"Ginny," sighed Harry. He whispered into her ear. "I love you too Ginny, you are like a sister to me. I owe you and Ron and your whole family everything." He softly kissed her on the cheek, as they broke apart.

"When you started dating Katie," said Ginny fighting off tears. "I... It was hard for me, Harry. You were so upset about Sirius, you wanted to be alone then out of nowhere comes Katie and I... I guess I was jealous. I'm sorry for being selfish, Harry."

"No," replied Harry soothingly. "Don't be sorry; it's OK. You're right, it did come from nowhere; we quite literally bumped into each other, and bang there we were. Looking back it wasn't the most romantic beginning ever, we just met and things happened. Even now, I don't know what I was thinking. Not that I don't like Katie, its just that, within a few hours, I went from mourning to..."

"...The morning after?" finished Ginny with a small smile at her joke.

"In a manner of speaking," said Harry sharing her smile. "Have you ever been in a situation where you just wanted to be alone, but then someone else who is in the same situation as you comes along. Someone who knows how it is to feel like you do?" He looked into Ginny's eyes. They were staring straight back at him, with glistening tears forming at the edges. That sentence had had a deeper effect on her than she was showing.

"I...no, not really, well sort of. I don't know. Maybe," she stuttered.

"She made me realise that I wasn't the only one who had suffered," said Harry. "Snape was right about me, I have been living as the tragic hero, thinking that I was the only one to had suffered. She opened my eyes to the horror that I had shut out all these years. And then, after we...you know, I was scared. I couldn't help but wonder if I was just the Boy-Who-Lived, whether I was just a conquest for her."

"What did you do?" probed Ginny.

"I...," Harry chuckled lightly. "I don't know why I am laughing, it was a stupid thing to do. I asked her straight out."

"Bravo."

"Eh?" Harry raised an eyebrow and looked over to her. She was wearing a small smile.

"Get it out in the open, if there are areas of friction, then air them. Trust me, a girl's mind can be very paranoid at times. If you hold it in and don't say a word, we begin to think that there is something wrong with us and it inevitably ends in tears."

"It did end it tears; well, it didn't end, but tears were certainly involved."

"Such a blunt statement would hurt but it is better in the long run, and look, a month later you are still together, unlike me."

"Cheer up, Gin," said Harry. "Lightning will strike."

"'Have patience, you'll meet Mr. Right one day', right?" asked Ginny with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"Certainly," said Harry. "You're a beautiful woman, Ginny. Someone will come along." Harry froze at his audacity. He felt like he had stepped over a line. What line? Why did it feel compromising to tell her this? She was his friend, he was already taken and he was telling the truth. For some reason, he felt...wrong. Ginny on the other hand, didn't batter an eyelid, though she did blush a little.

"And being my 'brother' as you put, it, you'll scare him away," she said a little coldly.

"I'll what?"

"You and Ron and Fred and George and Bill and Charlie and Mum and Dad and everyone else I know, will scare them away," Harry could hear the bitterness in her voice at the list. Ginny donned a high-pitched, mocking accent. "Must keep poor little Ginny safe; no boys for her, blah blah blah." Harry smiled.

"The one and only advantage of having no family," said Harry softly. "Look, Gin, I can't speak for Ron but as far as I am concerned it is you life, and your choice. If you ask, I will give you an honest opinion, but in the end I know it is down to you. I'll protect you if I can but I will not interfere in something that is not my business. But if they hurt you, I'll break their legs."

"Harry, that was really sweet," sighed Ginny going pink. "Right up to the last line, then you really screwed it up."

"Sorry."

"Harry," whispered Ginny.

"Yes," replied Harry, feeling somewhat defenceless for no reason he could understand.

"You know Ron is captain of the Quidditch team?" For some reason Harry felt relieved.

"Yes."

"Well, the seeker position is yours. I am going for Chaser. I wanted you to hear it from me personally. You are the best seeker we have ever had." Harry broke into a smile. Quidditch; how he had missed playing it. He couldn't wait to be back in the air again.

"Thanks, Gin. When are tryouts?"

"Ask Ron," replied Ginny. Just then the portrait hole opened and two figures came in. "Speak of the devil" added Ginny.

"Eh?" asked Ron.

"We were wondering when tryouts are," said Ginny.

"McGonagall has booked the pitch for Sunday afternoon," said Ron with an air of authority that could be compared to Percy. "Assuming that the Slytherin team don't nick the pitch, we'll have them then. Harry, I need you there. Will Katie be ready by then?" He then winced as if someone had hit him. Since Hermione was standing beside him, he probably had been hit.

"Should be," said Harry.

"I don't want to push her," added Ron quickly, trying to undo his insensitivity. "But it would help to have her there."

"I'll ask her," said Harry.

"Cheers," grinned Ron. "Now, what have you two been doing?"

"Not a lot," replied Harry truthfully.

"Where you looking for one of us, or just coming back from the library," asked Ginny, wiping her eyes.

"How did you know where we were?" asked Hermione.

"My suspicions was first aroused by the phrase 'I'm going up to the library, coming Ron?'" said Harry. Apparently they really had gone to the library rather than anywhere else.

"Fair enough," replied Ron.

"Well, if you'll excuse," said Ginny. She got up and left.

"Oh yeah," continued Ron. "That was what I was saying, they are playing this amazing new game down on the fields. It is like Quidditch except no Bludgers, bats or snitches or brooms. Just a Quaffle and you throw it to your team mate and then he runs and you throw them to the ground nick the ball and then run it towards their goal. If you run through the goal you score. It's amazing they are playing down outside the main entrance with about twenty on each team." Harry tried to decipher what he was talking about. Suddenly it clicked.

"You mean Rugby?"

"Yes, he does," chipped in Hermione. "They are being stupid and someone will get hurt before they stop. They say that prefects have no power before term starts so I couldn't stop it."

"What's wrong with Rugby?" asked Harry.

"They'll hurt themselves. It was the top two years versus all the other years. There were third years playing. They'll be flattened. When McGonagall finds out..." Hermione interrupted.

"She'll ask to start a house Rugby championship," finished Ron. "You want to play Harry?"

"Not really, I'm not exactly built for Rugby am I?" grinned Harry. "Still I'll wander down, grab a pasty from the Hall and then watch the game." The trio, united once more, descended the stairs. Harry hadn't been alone with the two of them since last term. He was always surrounded by Katie, Ginny or an adult.

Harry helped himself to a Cornish Pasty and iced-water from the hall before sitting down beneath a tree outside the castle. Ron had been right; they were playing a very bizarre version of Rugby. Hermione was right; someone was going to get killed. There was no referee, no rules, no nothing; just a football, which they were throwing around, and Rugby tackling each other randomly. Harry doubted that any of them knew which way they were going or who was on their team.

"Going to join in?" asked Ron.

"First things first, Ron," answered Harry. "Namely my pasty."

Harry had taken two bites before he was very glad he had not joined in, Professor Snape was running across the garden towards them. He didn't even need to say a word. Play stopped in an instant as soon as the players realised who was approaching. They all froze to the spot.

"Would someone care to explain this to me?" he hissed at the crowd. "Anyone." Unsurprisingly there were no volunteers. Snape looked around, glaring at each of them in turn; finally his eyes fell on Harry.

"Potter! Here!" shouted Snape.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" muttered Harry as he rose and walked the thirty metres between where he had been sitting and Snape.

"Potter, what do you call this?" asked Snape.

"What do I call what?" asked Harry. He wasn't being purposely difficult, well not exceptional so. He just wasn't truly sure what he was being asked.

"What has been happening here?" hissed the Potions Master. The gleam in his eye apparent from finally having caught the Boy-Who-Lived doing something wrong.

"I have only just arrived, I've been here for no more than a minute before you called me." Harry knew Snape was skilled at Legimency. He could tell if Harry was lying so he stuck to the truth, which as it happened exonerated him as well as any lie.

"Why are you lying to me, Potter?" growled Snape.

"I'm not, Professor." Snape's eyes flashed with malice. His dream of Potter in detention was slipping away from him.

"A violent and lawless game has been played here; these students could have been seriously injured. Why did you do nothing to prevent it, Potter?"

"Was I supposed to?" asked Harry innocently, ever more aware that every eye was on him. "I am not a prefect, the prefects themselves don't have any power until term starts, and since I have only just arrived I couldn't possibly have prevented this game, could I?" Harry saw Snape's vein rise, he knew he would dearly love to blame him for everything but he couldn't do it. Harry was innocent and Snape knew it.

"Fine," he hissed. "Back to your Common Rooms all of you. None of you are to leave the castle again today, if this ever happens again, you will all be re-turfing this entire lawn without Magic, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor Snape," came several mutterings from the crowd. Harry made his way back to Ron and Hermione.

"Well that was lucky," said Hermione.

"How could that possibly be lucky?" asked Ron.

"He didn't take house points," replied Hermione taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

Harry stifled a laugh at Hermione's priorities but had the sense to say nothing. Hell hath no fury like woman scorned.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the common room. This was not by choice, rather the fact that if Snape saw him out then he would end up in a month's worth of detentions. He was thrashed at chess by Ron and then, to his embarrassment, by Mark Evans. Mark was an excellent player. He went on to draw a game with Ron, in a stalemate. The downside of being locked in the common room was firstly the fact that Slytherins could inevitably move around freely, and secondly he couldn't see Katie.

They were allowed out for tea, after which Harry returned straight back to Gryffindor tower for bed. He dozed off shortly after his head hit the pillow.

~~~~ + ~~~~

Harry woke with a start. The common room was still dark, his watch read six twenty. Harry closed his eyes, but seeing only an image of Katie hanging limply from the wall with her throat slit, he quickly reopened them. 'It was just a nightmare!' Harry told himself. The rest of the room was still asleep. Harry must not have been screaming. He had several hours to go before classes, but he couldn't sleep. All he saw when he closed his eyes was that image of Katie; naked, bleeding, dead. He quickly threw on yesterday's clothes and slipped out of the common room. He quietly but quickly made his way up to the Hospital Wing.

He gently pushed the door and to his relief it opened. He cautiously tiptoed over to the curtains surrounding Katie's bed. He evidently wasn't quiet enough.

"No thanks," came a voice from behind the curtains. "I don't need dreamless sleep, rest or anything else. I'm fine!" Harry grinned, she was back to normal; her cynical mentality had returned.

"I have no intention of giving you dreamless sleep, and if I could get you out of here, I would," said Harry as he drew back the curtains.

"Harry!" cried Katie when she saw him. "I wondered where you were!"

"You were sleeping and then your mother arrived and then Snape confined us to the common room for the rest of the day. I couldn't come."

"Well you'd better make up for it," smiled Katie, extending her hand. Harry took it with his real one and she pulled him into a hug.

"Feeling better?" whispered Harry into her ear as he held her.

"Mmmm," sighed Katie.

"I have some good news and some bad news," said Harry. "Firstly the good news; Quidditch tryouts start on Sunday. The bad news is that you have awoken just in time for lessons."

"Bugger," muttered Katie. "We get our timetables today. I bet I get double Snape first thing."

"I think you may want to see McGonagall, she has a few things to say. There was a meeting which you missed."

"Well, we had better be going or Pomfrey will catch me," said Katie. "She threw the bed clothes off her legs and climbed out of bed. Harry took a step back and watched, Wick had been right; the hospital gowns were tight enough to let the truth be known. Stop! She has just been through a terrifying ordeal that is the last thing she needs.

"That is not very gentlemanly, Harry," said Katie with a half smile. The joke was still quite painful for her. "I need to change!"

"Sorry," said Harry as he left closing the curtains behind him. IDIOT! Don't push her in any way! He looked at the other beds in the hospital wing. They were all empty. Harry crossed to the window and looked out. The day was bright and sunny, the sun shone down on the lawn which was still muddy and messy from yesterday's 'Rugby match'. There was nothing moving, except, one small figure. One girl in a grey jogging suit was running across the grounds. She was moving at quite a fast pace. Harry watched her sprint across the lawn, hop the fence with a single bound and then continue off up the hill. Blaise was off for her morning run. Harry wondered whether he should start running. Her words carried sound logic. 'With Voldemort after you, I'd practice running all I could.'

"Ready," called Katie as she emerged from behind the curtains, bringing Harry's attention back to the room. She was wearing her Hogwarts robes that presumably had been left there for her by her mother. In the light he saw that she still looked quite weak. He could still see the bruise where Bellatrix had hit her. Her hair concealed the bruise that must be on her head.

"How's your head?" asked Harry. "I heard the ceiling fell on you."

"Yeah, it's OK. The swelling has gone down but it still hurts when I touch it. How about you; you were worse off."

"I'm fine," said Harry. This had become a reflex answer for when he was hurting.

"You are far from fine," said Katie. "Your black eye looks nasty, and you are still holding your arm close to you. Come on Harry, be honest, you're hurting."

"OK, I am," he confessed.

"Come on," said Katie. "Back to the common room."

There was still no sign of life in the Gryffindor common room; they were all savouring the last lay-in before the lessons began. Harry and Katie were still the only ones up when they emerged from the respective showers. Harry had just thrown on yesterday's clothes before leaving. Katie had spent over 48 hours in bed. They'd both needed a shower. Fully clothed, but without their school things, they met in the common room. They had time to come back after breakfast for their things.

"What's the time?" asked Katie.

"Nearly twenty past seven," replied Harry after checking his watch. "We'd better leg it or we will be caught in the rush. I suppose they might be serving breakfast this early."

"Excellent. Hospital food is almost as bad as airline lunches."

"I wouldn't know."

"I envy you, Harry." Harry gently extended his arm around her shoulders as they walked down to the Great Hall. He felt her arm slip around his waist. He breathed a sigh of relief; finally, she was back. He had sorely missed her over the last two days. The fact that he was worried about whether or not she would even recover rather than when she would recover hadn't helped. As they neared the hall, they encountered a small party of Ravenclaws. Harry felt Katie tense up as they appeared around the corner. He heard her breathing become faster and felt her muscles tense. She pulled herself deeper into the cradle of Harry's arm. He gave her an encouraging squeeze, but she still didn't relax. Katie stopped moving, and Harry stopped with her.

"It's OK," he whispered, "I'm here. They don't want to hurt you." She still didn't relax and didn't until the Ravenclaws had passed. One gave Harry a nod, which he returned, but Katie stood almost frozen. When they were gone, she relaxed and they continued. They took two seats next to each other at the end of the table, far away from anyone else. Katie sat with her back to the other people in the room. Harry helped himself to a few pieces of toast, while Katie picked at a few hash browns.

"Welcome back, Miss Bell," came a Scottish voice from behind them.

"Thank you, Professor," replied Katie with a small smile, though Harry could feel her tense slightly.

"Mr. Potter, some friends of yours await you in the hidden tent." Bugger, thought Harry. He had forgotten all about them with the Katie incident. They had spent the whole of yesterday here without him. They would not be best pleased. Harry made sure Katie was all right before slipping unnoticed into the tent.

Harry was wrong; when he entered the tent, he found Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley all munching away contentedly.

"Morning," greeted Harry. He got three grunts in response through food-filled mouths. "Sleep well?"

"Fine," said Aunt Petunia, having swallowed her mouthful. "I see that your other half is up and about again."

"Yes; she's a little jumpy but that is to be expected. What have you been doing?"

"A tour," replied Uncle Vernon though a mouthful of mushrooms. "We've been all over this castle. I have one question. Why? Why use quills and parchment, which cost a lot of money when a biro will do. Why use hundreds of candles when there is electricity. Nothing in this castle is practical."

"This is how we live. A friend once said that electricity and technology are just methods of getting by without magic. We have no need for electricity when a flick of a wand can illuminate a room for free. The other old fashioned things are more tradition. Still, that is part of the magic of...magic, if you know what I mean."

"We also saw," interrupted Aunt Petunia, "your little riot on the lawn yesterday."

"My little riot?"

"You were singled out by the teacher. Why, might I ask?" This is why Harry didn't want the Dursleys at Hogwarts. They were sticking their noses in his business. This was one of the few advantages of having no parents; there was no one to complain about every misdemeanour. Harry stuttered, trying to find a response to her unexpected probes.

"I think I need to chat to your teachers," said Aunt Petunia thoughtfully.

"What is in store for you today?" asked Harry desperate to change the subject.

"We are going to go to the Hog's Meadow," replied Uncle Vernon.

"Where?" asked Harry.

"A local village," said Dudley.

"I think you mean Hogsmeade," corrected Harry. "Incidentally while you are there, try the Butterbeer."

"I was under the impression that you were to come with us," said Aunt Petunia. Harry froze.

"I am?" asked Harry.

"According to Minerva, yes." Since when was she on first name turns with a witch? Wondered Harry. This tour was the last thing he wanted.

"I have lessons," said Harry, finding an excuse to not go. "Anyway, you expect me to accompany you to Hogsmeade but you wouldn't even sign the slip to let me visit in my third year." He had found another excuse.

"That was a long time ago and you broke the deal first," replied Uncle Vernon. "I said no magic and look what you did."

"You should've kept your sister on a tighter lead."

"Listen, you..." growled Uncle Vernon, rising to his feet.

"Shhhh!" hissed Harry. "Someone will hear, you idiot!"

"This is not getting us anywhere. We are here for only another eleven days. Lets get along for that time shall we?" asked Aunt Petunia.

"I'll find out if I'm supposed to go with you," said Harry before retreating from the tent. He sat back down next to Katie. There were four other Gryffindors there and they were all down the other end of the table. She was still eating quite happily with her back to the world.

"Mr. Potter," said McGonagall as she approached. "Here is your timetable for the year. And yours, Miss Bell." Harry took his scroll and unravelled it.

"Great, I didn't even have to get up until lesson three," muttered Harry.

"Lucky you," remarked Katie. "Herbology and then Charms in the morning, then double Defence and then free."

"Mr. Potter, your two study periods will be spent in Hogsmeade," said Professor McGonagall.

"So it is true then," sighed Harry.

"Yes, you are to accompany them."

"I thought they were to be hidden until they leave, NOT to be given the grand tour of our world."

"You thought wrongly, Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall with an air of finality in her voice. Harry, seeing that it was pointless to resist, stopped himself from arguing. "Guests, not prisoners," said McGonagall.

"When do we leave? Are they going with Polyjuice potion?"

"Meet them in the Entrance Hall at half past nine and be back for eleven, I believe you have a lesson with me at eleven thirty."

"As you wish," sighed Harry. The other student had started to arrive. "There were still only a few people present. The first to arrive of the Order affiliated students was Ginny. She took a seat opposite Katie, startling her. Her reaction was not too positive. It also highlighted another issue to Harry.

"Morning," said Katie. She smiled weakly at Ginny.

"Ginny, is Wick coming down?" asked Harry urgently.

"Yeah, he wasn't too far behind me."

"When he comes... never mind, I'll do it. Can you look after Katie?"

"I'm not a four year old, Harry," said Katie. She then shuffled a few inches to the left when a fourth year boy sat down a few feet to the right of her.

"Sure," said Ginny. Harry quickly jogged over to the entrance to the hall, as he did, he nodded to where he knew the tent was.

It wasn't long before he found his target. Mark Wickaman.

"Wick," said Harry. "Can I have a word?" Harry pulled him aside. "I know about your outlook on life and attitudes towards women of all thing. Katie is back now and she has been through a lot. Don't say anything...you know. In fact don't say anything to her at all. Got it?"

"Don't you trust me?" asked Wick with a grin.

"No!" said Harry bluntly. He walked back over to Katie. The last thing he needed was Wick asking her for a shag after her experience. He obviously wouldn't be serious but the very suggestion could set her off.

The hall was soon full.

Suddenly there was a whistle from the front. All heads turned and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was standing, ready to speak.

"May I have your attention, please," she said. A pointless statement since everyone was looking straight at her. "Your timetables are being handed out now, please note that you must attend all timetabled lessons, in recent years truancy has become a bit of a problem and we are starting a zero-tolerance policy as of now. Any missed lessons without a valid excuse will merit detentions. Secondly, Prefects, your duties take effect from tonight, if you are unsure of your times, please see the Head Boy or the Head Girl. On a related note, I would like to welcome Miss Bell back from the Hospital Wing. Next, speaking mainly to the upper years, those considering medicine as a career choice or even wishing to learn basic first aid, Madam Pomfrey is going to be starting a course at weekends for any potential healers, doctors or matrons among you. Lastly, there was an incident out on the front lawn yesterday. Some of our older students saw fit to indulge in a violent game that could have resulted in injury. This is unacceptable. It is not to happen again. If you wish to play Rugby then by all means join a club during the holidays, if there is enough interest we may even start our own club but you do not start dangerous games during break and lunch times. Do I make myself clear? Right, with that in mind, enjoy your day."

"Cool," said Ron, who was sitting next to Harry, reading his timetable. "I only have two lessons today. Hagrid and McGonagall. Do you want a game of chess before Hagrid's lesson?"

"Sorry, Ron," said Harry. "I have to dash. I am instructed to show three dead people around Hogsmeade."

"Sounds fun." Ron grinned.

"About as much as a Potions lesson."

"See you in Transfiguration," said Ron as Harry left.

"This is another fine mess you've gotten yourself into," muttered Harry to himself. He was supposed to give a tour of Hogsmeade to the Dursleys. Jesus Christ! They were supposed to be locked up in the castle for a fortnight and then gone, not being shown all over the wizarding world and certainly not by him. He may have a felt a desire to lock them up as they had done to him for nearly a decade. Then again, he had in recent days found a new sense of compassion for them. He knew that they didn't deserve to be locked up all the time; he just didn't expect to have to show them around. He was surprised that Dumbledore even let him leave the castle without any form of backup or protection. However, he was only going as far as Hogsmeade and since it was an all-magical village, everyone there would have a wand and so be able to help if Death Eaters did show up.

Ten minutes later, Harry was in the Entrance Hall. Ginny had agreed to walk Katie to her lessons. Katie seemed to trust her enough to let her do so. Poor Katie, this was hard for her. Five Ravenclaws had scared her badly enough by walking twenty feet away from her. She had to sit through lessons with no one she really trusted around her.

The Dursleys were disguised just as they had been before at the Quidditch game. They looked rather nervous, but would not draw attention from other wizards. McGonagall was leading them over towards him.

"Brace for impact," muttered Harry to himself.

Punctual," remarked McGonagall. "Good to see. Show them whatever you want, whatever they want, but do not stray from the village. Be back by the start of lesson three. Understand?"

Harry nodded, after which McGonagall retreated back up the stairs.

"Ready?" asked Harry. He received three nods and so began their trek to the village. It felt odd to be showing the Dursleys around Hogsmeade. It was the embodiment of everything that they hated, and yet here he was showing them around. They followed him down the hill to the edge of the village.

Hogsmeade had grown on Harry. Whereas during his first visit during his third year, he'd thought the place to be a wonderland, he now saw it as the same old Hogsmeade. After three years of coming here, he had become accustomed to it. The Dursleys, on the other hand, audibly gasped, making no effort to conceal their appreciation of the beauty of the town. Harry thought that this must be combined with fear, on the grounds that every inhabitant was a witch or wizard.

Harry wondered where to start. The Three Broomsticks seemed obvious but they had just had breakfast and that would be more appropriate mid morning. He decided to just wander along the High Street pointing out shops. If they wanted a closer look then they could go in. They visited the Post Office, the Robe shops and Zonko's Joke Shop. They also popped into the building site that would soon be Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Business had been so good for the twins that they could now afford a new branch in Hogsmeade. The poster said that the grand opening was going to be the first of December. By the look of it, they would have trouble getting the building ready by then. Through the poorly whitened windows, Harry could see several workmen pointing their wands down various holes amongst the floorboards. They were probably doing something to the foundations, thought Harry.

Harry's tour paused at quarter past ten for a drink in the Three Broomsticks. Harry, feeling quite generous, brought them each a drink. Madam Rosemerta gave Harry an appraising look when he ordered two Butterbeers, a sherry and a glass of fire-whiskey. Harry quickly explained that the alcohol was for the adults and she relented and served him. The first sip of the Butterbeer put a big smile on Dudley's face. It wasn't strong by any means; it had taken Winky several bottles to get drunk, so someone the size of Dudley would need enough to fill Lake Windermere, but it warmed you up and had a pleasant taste.

"Any thoughts?" asked Harry in an attempt to make conversation.

"Are there any normal people here?" asked Uncle Vernon, wisely lowering his voice for the 'normal people' part.

"This is the only all-magic settlement in the UK. There are no Muggles for miles."

"Are you worried that this place will be discovered?" asked Aunt Petunia.

"No," replied Harry holding back a smirk. "There are Anti-Muggle wards all around. Anyone who approaches will suddenly remember an urgent appointment and scurry off home."

"So this is what he wants, is it?" asked Dudley.

"What?"

"Lord...thingy-me-gig," replied Dudley. "He wants to kill all normal people and make the whole country like this."

Harry had never thought of it like that. He had always imagined Voldemort's Muggle-free world would be like a giant prisoner of war camp. Hogsmeade was the one place in the country where his ideals did exist. Was this what he was aiming to create? Maybe he isn't so bad. IDIOT! Harry scolded himself for even thinking that.

"No," replied Harry, trying to convince himself that Voldemort didn't want this kind of harmony. "He wants a world like Nazi Germany. He says that this is what he wants, but all he really wants is power. " While the Dursleys accepted his answer, Harry knew that he was making it up. Voldemort did want this kind of society. He was evil but his insanity did have logic behind it. "Anywhere else you want to go?" asked Harry, changing the subject.

"Where else is there?"

They weren't making this easy. "Nothing, really. Come on, let's head back to the castle."

They got up and made for the door. Harry paused outside on the porch and looked down the street. There wasn't really anywhere else to show them; nothing they would like, at least. Suddenly an arm grasped Harry's. He looked around to see Aunt Petunia, her face as pale as death.

"H...Harry! It's him!"

Harry's head spun around and his hand instinctively shot to his pocket. Bugger! Dumbledore had taken his wand. His eyes flicked around the crowds. Who was she looking at? Then he saw him. At the entrance to an alley, wearing a black cloak and staring straight at Harry was a man Harry knew all too well.

It was Peter Pettigrew.

Harry didn't need a wand. This little bastard had put Sirius away for twelve years. Harry, acting on impulse, surged towards him. He pushed his way through the crowds towards the Death Eater. He reached the alley in ten seconds, but there was no sign of Wormtail. All he found was a small key resting on top of an empty box next to the wall. Attached to it was a note.

Victoria Station, locker 347D

~~~~ + ~~~~

Harry told Dumbledore about the incident as soon as he had returned the Dursleys to their temporary home. Dumbledore's reaction had been typical. He was inhumanly calm. He had sat and listened, taken the key and then told Harry to go to his lessons. How could he concentrate when he didn't know what was in the locker? Harry's curiosity was too much. His mind kept running scenarios. What if there was a clue in there, what if it was a bomb, what if it was a trap? Without realising it, he had ended up outside the Potions room. It was his collision with the door that had awoken Harry from his daydream. Harry knew that Dumbledore would send someone to the locker; he knew it wouldn't be him. Who would it be? What would they find? Questions flowed through Harry's mind.

Luckily, Snape was absent when Harry arrived for the lesson. He, Hermione and Lavender were the only ones from Gryffindor who took the class; the others either did not get the necessary grades or they just couldn't stand Snape. Harry and Hermione took a seat in the middle of the room. They unpacked their Potions materials and textbooks and awaited the Potions Master. Lavender chose to sit next to Hermione. She was looking slightly more pale than usual. Harry couldn't blame her; he wasn't looking forward to two more years of Snape, either.

The others in the class were Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie McMillan, Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, Padma Patil, Terry Boot (his arm still in a sling), Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode. 'This is going to be a fun year,' thought Harry. 'At least Malfoy and his cronies are gone. I wonder where they are?' He was brought back from his pondering by the arrival of Snape. He possessed the same black robes, the same old glare, and the same ability to instantly instil fear.

"Sit down!" Snape barked. As a matter of fact they already were, but several of them sank lower into their chairs. A welcome was clearly not going to be given; this was Snape, after all. "You are here because you have attained the necessary grades at OWL level. Let me first tell you that this does not mean that you won't struggle. Potion making is a very delicate skill, sitting before me I see eleven O grade students. None of you have the precision or the patience to attain a P grade let alone pass a NEWT examination. I am amazed that some of you have qualified for my course, but that is beside the point." He shot a dirty glare at Harry. "You will now commence a course, which unlike OWLs, will not be made up of cures for acne or coughs. The Potions you will be making can save or end a life. They will be dangerous and complex; anyone not wholly committed to the course leave now." As tempting as it was, no one left, so Snape continued.

"Since we are unable to start on the Veritaserum without the lemon grass, and that cannot be picked until the full moon, we will start with two quick potions to get you back on track. Panalerum and Tracasium. Miss Granger since you are a world authority on everything perhaps you would like to tell us what the two are used for." Hermione, looking somewhat hurt by his rudeness, replied politely.

"Panalerum on its own is used to heal blisters. Tracasium is a hair-growth potion. When the two are mixed they ignite. They act as a binary liquid, resulting in Napalm. Unlike Napalm, the fire cannot be put out with water."

"Can anyone else tell me what does put out the flames?" asked Snape. "Zabini?"

"Salt. Common table salt."

"Correct, five points to Slytherin. The instruction for each of them are on the board, the potions take thirty minutes each to brew, plus preparation time. The ingredients are in my store. You have ninety minutes to make them, after which we will test them. Go!" Harry read the list of ingredients carefully. He gathered the more rare ingredients from Snape's store. He spent ten minutes carefully chopping, crushing and slicing the ingredients, making sure that everything was perfect. Concentrate, thought Harry. Slowly and steadily get the job done. Forget about the key. Concentrate. He was determined to not give Snape the pleasure of seeing him struggle this year. He would read every line of the ingredients, doing exactly as they said rather than what he thought they said. He weighed the ingredients and placed each of them in piles on the plate. He measured liquids precisely. At last he was ready to begin.

The ingredients went in one at a time. Harry was ever so careful with the quantities. He re-checked every line of the instructions. He had a stopwatch on his wristwatch so he was able to make the timings precise. In the end, his potion should be sky blue. To his relief, when the last berry went in, the potion turned a brilliant blue. The sky wasn't usually that particular shade of blue but he was close. Being equally precise with the other instructions he managed to make two potions that looked more-or-less as the instructions told him they should.

He filled two phials with each. He placed one of each on Snape's desk and pocketed the other two, remembering what Snape had done last year when his potion looked more or less correct. He cleared up his workstation and sat back down. Taking a quick look at his watch, he had six minutes to go. Hermione had finished and was flicking through her textbook. Harry looked over at his efforts. His Panalerum was almost perfect, it was a little darker than Hermione's but it wasn't far off. His Tracasium was supposed to be a dark red colour; it looked more like a reddish-brown to Harry. He must have gone wrong somewhere along the line but that couldn't be helped now. He had done better than he had last year.

For the first time ever, Harry was actually looking forward to testing time. He wanted to show Snape that he was not an imbecile. This may have been an easy potion compared to some of the other that he had done, but getting one right would be a huge morale boost for him. He still had a few minutes so, following Hermione's example, he pulled out his textbook. He wouldn't give Snape the pleasure of ridiculing him this year; he'd show him what he could do.

"Time," called Snape. "Present your potions here for testing. I already have Miss Granger's, Miss Zabini's, Mr. Macmillan's and... Merlin, be praised! Mr. Potter has even succeeded. Hell has indeed frozen over." There were several snickers from around the room, which stopped abruptly when Snape continued. "The rest of you have twenty seconds to get me a sample of your work." Several phials were presented, their bearers looking somewhat nervous. Snape disappeared into his office and re-emerged with a glass of water, a pot of some green powder and a pot of salt.

"Any volunteers to go first? Mr. Potter, thank you for volunteering," said Snape with a growl. Harry hadn't moved, but Snape couldn't resist the pleasure of embarrassing him. Just you wait, Snivellus, thought Harry.

Snape took a pipette out of a draw in his desk; he took a drop of the Panalerum. "Potter, come forward and present your hand." Harry felt a flush of anger, then realised what Snape meant. He got up and moved to the front desk. He held out his left hand after taking off the glove. Snape sprinkled some of the powder onto his hand. Immediately blisters started to appear. They were large and painful.

"Stop being such a little girl, Potter," hissed Snape, causing his own House members to laugh.

Snape blew the remaining powder off of Harry's hand. He let a few drops of the Panalerum drop onto his skin from the pipette. Harry felt a tingling as the blisters disappeared beneath the potion. When it wiped his hand, the blisters were gone.

"Hmmm," was all the teacher could say. He made a quick note before cleaning the pipette and taking a drop of the Tracasium; this he dropped onto Harry's fringe. He saw a small amount of hair descend over his right eye. It had worked; the hair had been lengthened. Unfortunately it had also turned white.

"I will have to dock points for the change in colour, Potter; that was not supposed to happen. In future, dry the mandrake leaf after you wash it. Water will have this effect."

"Oops!" said a quiet voice behind him.

Harry didn't reply, he waited for Snape to fix his hair but he didn't. He merely dropped another few drop of the Tracasium onto a ceramic tile on the desk. He then cleaned the pipette and dropped a few drops of the Panalerum on top of them. They burst into bright orange flames. Snape took the jug of water and poured a little onto the fire; it had no effect. He emptied the whole litre of water onto the ten-centimetre flame. The flame shrank to about half its original size, but stayed alight. Snape poured a little salt onto it and it vanished with a hiss. He looked at Harry with an odd stare. Then he spoke,

"The Panalerum was fine. The Tracium contained water since you failed to dry the ingredients after you washed them, hence your hair is now a difference colour. The resulting flame was a little on the small side given the amount I used. Water had too much of an effect on it and I would have expected more salt to be required to extinguish it. I am being very generous in giving you an A/E borderline. It exceeded my expectations by actually working, but it was an average attempt. Take two points for Gryffindor."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry before sitting down. He felt Snape's marking was a little harsh, but he was foolish to expect congratulations. Meanwhile he still had a long white streak in his hair. He took the scissors out of his potions kit and snipped it back to its original length. He now merely had a white streak in his hair. He could always get McGonagall to undo it; they were starting human transformations next week. All the others were tested; Bulstrode and Zabini each received an E and took twenty points for Slytherin each. Hermione and Lavender got two apiece since theirs worked. Hermione's flame was double the size of Harry's. Maybe Snape had been right. He poured a little water over it and a little salt and gave her an E. The two Ravenclaws and four Hufflepuffs also managed to create a flame, Hannah abbot's was green and her Panalerum had turned the blisters into scales rather than vanishing them. She received a D.

"OK," said Snape. "That was average, but this is merely a test to get you back into the routine of my lessons. Next week we start on real potions. For homework I want a foot and a half essay on the practicality of Aurors using Veritaserum for interrogation. That is to be handed in during Monday's lesson."

When the bell went, they all left in silence. Harry was a little miffed about his mark, but in the end, Hermione's potion had produced a larger flame, maybe Snape had been right. Still, he had made it work, and come out with five points He usually tallied about minus twenty per lesson with Snape.

"Well done, Harry," said Hermione as they made their way back to the Great Hall.

"Thanks, Hermione. Snape didn't say anything which means he couldn't think of a criticism for your work, I think you deserve the applause."

"Still got an E, though," sighed Hermione.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Hermione," chipped in Lavender who had caught them up. "Snape wouldn't give a Gryffindor an O if we paid him."

"Thanks, Lavender," said Hermione with a smile. Harry actually wondered what their relationship was like. Lavender and Parvati had never been close to the trio, but they were fairly friendly. Did they often talk in the girl's dormitory? Did they have 'Girly nights'?

"Well, if you'll excuse me I have to see Professor Trelwaney," said Lavender.

"Still taking Divination then, Lavender?" asked Harry.

"Of course, it is wonderful. I had it this morning."

"Seeing the future in the end of a hotdog?" asked Hermione innocently.

"No, actually," scoffed Lavender, "We are studying Prophecies, now."

"Prophecies?" chorused Hermione and Harry together, though they each felt differently about this turn of events. Hermione was intrigued. Harry was worried.

"Yes, you know; when the Powers from Above send down a prophecy," said Lavender, as if it were an everyday occurrence. "They are always true. The Ministry stores them in the Department of Mysteries. Professor Trelawney is going to organise a trip there to see them."

"And how much does Professor Trelawney know about the Prophecies?" asked Hermione. She wasn't being sarcastic. For once, she seemed interested.

"She has never given one herself," said Lavender. "At least she can't remember, but those who have can't either. Still, it is fascinating."

"I'll bet," said Harry. He had a lump in his throat. The last thing he needed were Lavender and Parvati knowing about the Prophecy; neither of them were renowned for the their secret-keeping ability. Lavender walked away up the stairs towards Trelawney's tower. Harry and Hermione continued up into the hall. Ron was there, having a rematch with Mark Evans and once again they were in a stalemate. This was beginning to annoy Ron. He always said he longed for a worthy opponent, but now he had one, he seemed to prefer being the undisputed champion.

"How was Potions?" he asked.

"Snape," said Harry.

"Ouch!" replied Ron, finally looking up. "Merlin, Harry, what happened to your hair?"

"Accident in Potions."

"You look like a badger. I, myself, have had double free. This little sod here has drawn twice, beaten me once and lost once. I've been beaten by a first year. It's bloody embarrassing."

"At least he isn't a Malfoy," said Hermione.

"If I lost to a Malfoy I would have to kill myself," said Ron.

Just then Katie and Ginny arrived.

"How was your day?" asked Katie. "Love the hair."

"Well I just had double Snape," replied Harry. " And the hair will be changed as soon as I find out how to do it."

"No, don't; I like it."

"Stop joking," groaned Harry.

"I'm not; coloured streaks are all the rage. You have a little white tuft above your right eye; I just saw Terry Boot with a green tuft hanging down over his left eye."

"He was in Snape's lesson, too," replied Harry.

"Ah," said Katie.

"What have you just had?"

"Sprout, Flitwick, free, then double Black."

"How is she?"

"Merciless!" was Katie's response. "She's good, but Shield Charms are recommended"

"I'll bear that in mind. We have her double tomorrow afternoon."

"I'd wear the Body Armour that Moody gave you. Incidentally, can I borrow it next time I have her?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." The room started to fill and as the crowds came nearer and nearer to them, Katie got closer and closer to Harry. She was her normal self when they were alone, but groups of people seemed to scare her, which was hardly surprising. She took a seat and Harry sat down next to her. Ginny sat on the other side of her; Katie seemed to trust her enough.

"Harry," said Katie between roast potatoes. "When are you holding Quidditch tryouts?"

"I'm not captain. You'll have to ask Ron. In fact, I was supposed to tell you when they are. To be honest, I can't remember. Ron! When are the Quidditch trials?"

"I told you, Sunday. It is the three of us plus the two Beaters, Kirke and Sloper. We need two Chasers."

"And a Beater. Kirke told me that he doesn't have time to practice in his NEWT year."

"OK," said Ron making a mental note. "We need two Chasers and a Beater. Any thoughts?"

"Well," said Harry. "Ginny says she wanted to be a Chaser."

"I do, I'll be there on Sunday."

"Yeah, Ginny will do great" said Ron excitedly. "She was a nippy little thing last year."

"Ron, you can't just add me," said Ginny. "I have to tryout like everyone else. I actually think that the three of you should also try out; someone could challenge you to your position." Harry decided to intervene before an argument broke out.

"If you want a strong Beater, try Wick," suggested Harry. He saw Ginny grimace but ignored her. "He has a strong arm and you saw him in the Rugby yesterday. He could be a Chaser as well. I'll see if I can get him to try out."

"Someone say my name?" asked a voice. Wick took a seat next to them. He seemed to have talked to them more often in the last few days than the rest of his school life.

"We were wondering if you wanted to tryout for the Quidditch team on Sunday," said Ron.

"Why not," said Wick. "I'm used to a long hard thing being between my legs." This caused most of them to roll their eyes.

"You'll get it up your arse if you're not careful," muttered Ginny. Wick didn't hear.

"Great," said Ron.

"Potter, love the hair." Wick grinned. "You look like a badger! Now, if you'll excuse me I have to see a man about a dog." He left singing Bodger and Badger at the top of his voice. The discussion on Quidditch carried on right through the meal and back up to the common room. They retired to bed at half past nine. McGonagall had given no homework yet and Snape's work was for after the weekend, so Harry chose to do it then. Tomorrow he had lesson one off, though he would be up early enough to accompany Katie to breakfast and her first lesson.

~~~~ + ~~~~

Harry escorted Katie to breakfast the next morning. After that he went to ask Dumbledore about the key. The Headmaster's answer was short and simple.

"We are watching the station to see if anyone is watching the locker. Tomorrow morning, Kingsley will open the locker. Don't worry, Harry. You will be shown what, if anything, the locker holds. I ask for your patience regarding this investigation. Now please, Harry, continue with your studies. I am rather busy."

Muggle Studies was boring. Ron had swapped Muggle Studies for Herbology. He appeared briefly at the beginning of the lessons to confirm the swap with the teacher. Harry spent the lesson doodling on the parchment in front of him. It was similar to Binn's lesson. He sat in a stupor, idly scribbling on the parchment so it appeared that he was working. Come the end of the lesson, he knew no more that he already did about the police departments of the country. He had also drawn a rather unrecognisable hippogriff and a rather good hippopotamus.

That break time, Harry went to see Dumbledore. During Transfiguration yesterday, Harry's performance was pathetic, because Dumbledore had taken his wand. The idea had been to develop his magic without the use of a wand. However, he had been trying to walk before he could crawl. He hadn't managed anything and so would fall behind. There was pushing yourself and then there was being stupid. At this rate, the lack of a wand would do more harm than good. Dumbledore had looked somewhat disappointed though he did grant Harry his wand back. The only things Harry could do without a wand were summoning, disarming and levitating. If the need arose and his emotions were high, he could use stunners and banishing charms but they were very week and didn't always work. He planned to keep trying easy spells without a wand, but NEWT level spells were too hard for him without a wand.

Transfiguration was much as it had been last lesson, developing their power by using larger objects. Harry, now with the help of a wand, managed to perform rather well in transfiguration or so he thought. His zebra may have been slightly more wardrobe-like than Hermione's but it still bleated, was black and white, and tried to run away from him.

After a quick lunch, Harry, along with almost every student in the sixth year, set off for Defence Against the Dark Arts. He took a seat next to Ron. After removing his books and quill from his bag, he swung back on his chair, waiting for the teacher. While Umbridge had the room it was like a farmhouse, with flowery patterns everywhere. With Lockhart it was like a portrait gallery, with his pictures on every wall. With Quirrel it had been like a salami factory with dead animals and the smell of garlic. With Lupin it had been functional. That was how it appeared now. There were several tanks containing small creatures. There was a large but empty cage in one corner with a few books pilled on top of it. There were posters on the walls showing magical carnivores and creatures. On one big poster above her desk was a rather unique poster, which many would be too scared to even display. It was made to look like faded parchment. In the middle of the post was a large, unmoving picture of a face. It was a Muggle photograph of a man. He had glowing red eye, a pale, snake-like face with slits for nostrils. Underneath the photo, a caption read,

WANTED

Tom Marvolo Riddle

AKA

Lord Voldemort

DEAD or ALIVE

Several people pointed and gasped.

"And this is who Dumbledore picks to teach us is it?" asked someone near the back.

"Bloody Malfoy, can't even get here on time," muttered someone else. After nearly five minutes she had still not turned up.

"Only four more minutes then we can go," said Harry to Hermione.

"Go?"

"The ten minute rule," explained Harry. "The unwritten rule in the sixth and seventh years is that if the teacher doesn't turn up in ten minutes we have a free period. Katie told me. That's great, that is."

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Narcissa had appeared in the doorway, her wand pointed straight at the nearest student to the door. She disarmed another student and then sent several Stunners at various other people. Half the class cowered behind the desks, under their teacher's rampage. Harry instinctively reached for his newly reacquired wand. He stood and whistled to Narcissa, she turned to face him; with a grin, she sent a stunner at him. He grabbed his textbook off of the table and held it up in front of him. This way he could get a shot off while the spell was still coming, as he wasn't using magic to make his shield. Narcissa's spell struck the book and dissipated. She drew her wand back for a second spell but it was too late. Harry had fired a disarming charm before her spell had even struck the book.

Her wand flew from her hand into Harry's. He raised both his and her wand to her face with a triumphant grin.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked.

"Just about. Give me the wand, take ten points for Gryffindor and sit down. Let this be a lesson ladies and gentlemen; be on your guard. There are far worse wizards than me around. As Mad-Eye would say, Constant Vigilance. It took nearly ten seconds to disarm me, during which time I managed to fire eleven spells. That response time was pitiful! Had it been for real, eleven of your classmates would be dead. Have no illusions, we are at war, people will die. Listen to what I have to say and you won't be among them. Be warned: this class is much larger than in previous years. Thirty-four Pupils is a little much. Any Dark Magic or arsing about and you will be out of the class and left to fend for yourself. Understand?"

"Yes, Professor," came a few voices; many were too shocked to reply.

" If you would all come out from behind your desks, we will get on with the lesson." Harry couldn't help but grin; looking around, half of the class were on their hands and knees below the tables. He slumped back down into his seat, while Narcissa began to take the register.

"Right," she said when she had finished. "Let's get the obvious stuff out of the way first. "Yes, I was married to Lucius Malfoy for nearly twenty years. Yes, he is a Death Eater and yes, I am Draco's mother. No, I am not a Death Eater; no, I don't support them and no, I will not tolerate any one of you idolising or imitating Death Eaters, OK? Any other questions?"

"Why did you decide to switch side?" asked Dean Thomas boldly.

"That is between me and Dumbledore; I am unwilling to discuss it further. Anything else?"

"Why have you set us books on the Dark Arts?" asked Padma Patil.

"And you are?" asked Narcissa with a small smile.

"Padma Patil."

"Well Padma, NEWTs are all about taking the practical application of a subject. Whether it be, Defence, Charms or Herbology. Teaching Defence is a little different to Charms though. At NEWT level Charms you learn practical spells to make life easier as well as charms you need in the real world, for example Memory Modifiers. Charms, and indeed Transfiguration, are about making life easier, but there is nothing stopping you doing them. If you use the spell to change a needle into a match, the needle doesn't refuse to change. In Defence, there is someone on the other end of the spell. You can't predict how he or she will react. You also have to be aware of what they can do to you. You have to understand the enemy, and that is why I have set the book. Inside, you will find spells that could potentially be used against you. They also show how to defend yourself against them. The last chapter of the book also outlines the ethical debate over the Dark Arts. One lesson we will have a debate about whether the Unforgivables are forgivable against a Death Eater. But that is in the future; today we will start with Shield Charms. Firstly I want to outline what we are going to do."

"We'll start off with spells to protect ourselves from Dark Wizards. We then go on to security, Anti-Vampire wards and Anti-Apparition jinxes. We will then go on Defending others, spells which will prevent harm to another person aside from yourself. Dark Creatures are less of an issue at NEWT level. You have already covered most of them. We will do one module on Creatures. The worst of the worst...or, the best of the best, as Hagrid would say." She paused to allow the laughter to die down. "Dragons, vampires, werewolves, Dementors. You have covered werewolves briefly at OWL level, this time you will literally get up close and personal. You will see a real werewolf, on the full moon both with and without Wolfbane Potion. Dementors; we will meet one. Vampires, well we don't do them until the seventh year but you will meet one. Any questions?" There were none.

Harry set there somewhat in shock. She was planning to teach them Dark Arts, let them meet a werewolf, (would it be Remus?) and bring a vampire into the lesson. Katie had been right; she was merciless. Still, it put a little spice into the curriculum.

Harry enjoyed the lesson. The weekend came as a welcome break. He'd had only had two days of lessons, but that still gave him an eighteen-inch essay on Truth Potions, a foot for Transfiguration on the laws surrounding human transformation, and although Narcissa had decided not to set homework on their first lesson, he still had to revise for the Duelling Club next Thursday. Harry had still not managed to get into the swing of life at school. It normally took a few days. He found himself wishing for the end of the lesson so that he could relax; he still had holiday-itus.

Contrary to the antics of almost every other sixth year, in Gryffindor especially, Harry did all his homework on Saturday morning, after a short lie in. He knew he wouldn't have time after Quidditch trials on Sunday and he wouldn't be in the mood after all that excitement. This was all part of his new Harry philosophy. He was going to try hard at his four subjects and get into Auror Training. He would aim to get the top grades needed in the key four and do well enough to pass in Muggle Studies, as he needed five NEWTs to become an Auror. Harry wondered how long this would last. He had tried several times to do this before, to get everything done early like he knew that he should. But, being a teenage boy, he inevitably failed and his new routine had flickered and died after a week as he reverted to the boyish habit of leaving everything to the last minute. After two and a half hours in the library, he had managed to discuss Veritaserum for a foot and a half. He had proof read his work and checked he had included everything. He had spent nearly three hours in the library searching for books and reading and then lastly writing. He had slaved over it and yet he knew he wouldn't get anything other than and Acceptable for it. Still, when it came to the examiners next year, they would give him an O. It was this thought that got Harry through the essay, he had nearly lost it four times. His mind had wondered and he had considered going outside, luckily he had managed to control himself and after two and half hours of writing, Snape's essay was complete. Excellent, thought Harry. Only another foot for McGonagall. That one was simpler, all the necessary information was in his textbook so he had that done in just over half an hour. He sat back in his chair, he had an abrasion on the inside of his middle finger from where the quill had begun to dig into his had. His arm ached but he felt a great sense of relief at not having these essays hanging over him. Deep down, Harry knew this routine wouldn't last long. He had tried to change his ways at the beginning of every term, and had never succeeded for more than a week.

After a quick trip up to Gryffindor tower to drop of his books, he put his cloak back on his bed. Wearing his normal black combats and black t-shirt he set off for the lawn, where most of the school relaxed during the warm weekend days. Harry made his way out onto the lawn; he crossed over towards where his friends were sitting.

"'Arry!"

Harry turned to see an old friend. He only caught a glimpse before his eyes were obscured by a large floppy ear, and a long rough tongue gave him a huge lick right on the end of his nose,

"Down, Fang!" called Hagrid. "'Ows yer week bin, 'Arry?"

"Hagrid, I'm sorry. I meant to come and see you but I got a bit side tracked."

"S'OK, Harry. I know what's bin happinin', you an' Katie, and then the ruddy train gets attacked, I can't blame ye for getting' a little bit forgetful. I was a bit sad ya didn't take my class, but I still gets ta see ya so I ain't complain'."

"So, Hagrid, now that I am here, how are you? How's Grawp, I gather he is better since you aren't covered in bruises."

"E's doin' great, 'e speaks pretty good English now and 'e's well be'aved an' everythin'. 'E's like an angel."

"Thank him for saving us in the forest last year, will you?"

"Sure, look I can't stop an' chat 'Arry, gotta go ta... that is Dumbledore asked me for a favour. I can't discuss it. Come an' see me Monday night; I've got yer birthday present for ye."

"Cheers, Hagrid, see you Monday!" called Harry as Hagrid walked swiftly over the grass lead by Fang, who was shooting speaking glances at any student holding anything edible.

"Morning," said Harry when he reached his friends.

"Afternoon, you mean. It's nearly three, where have you been?" said Ron.

"Doing Snape's essay," replied Harry, pulling a face one might do just before vomiting.

The next thing Harry knew he had a wand shoved in his face. "Who are you and where is the real Harry?" said Ron.

"Harry, I'm impressed," mused Hermione. Ron grinned and pocketed his wand.

"Harry, you're a nutter," remarked Wick who was with them. He was sitting on the grass trying to put batteries into his CD player.

"Why, Wick?" said Hermione noticing his antics. "Don't you know that thing won't work here?"

"Hah!" said Wick with a grin. "The great Harmony Granger..."

"Hermione!"

"Whatever, is wrong for the first time ever. Muggle machines that send signals, i.e. TV, mobile phones, radar, radios, wireless Internet, et cetera don't work because the magic disrupts the signal. Also you can't play tapes or videos because they work by using magnets. This doesn't send signals; it just plays what is inside it, namely Guns 'N' Roses. CD work by lasers and light so magic doesn't interfere with them. Electricity won't work in the castle but on the outskirts away from the castle where all the magic is, you can use digital things which don't send or receive signals."

"Well, you learn something new everyday," said Hermione. Wick stood and managed to fit his CD player into his jean pocket. It was a tight fit but he managed it, though it still bulged out.

"Are you pleased to see me or did you just put a CD Player in your pocket?" joked Dean.

"Am I pleased to see you or do I have a circular shaped penis?" replied Wick fixing the earphone into his ears.

"Right bays?" said Katie in her West Country accent as she approached. She sat next to Harry before mock fainting over his lap. "Those three will be the death of me," sighed Katie.

"Who?" asked Harry.

"Little Miss 'Oh look what an arrogant bint I am" Watts over there," replied Katie. "Harriet Bloody Watts and her two loyal companions, Natasha Phillips and Charity Marsh. They are the three other girls in Gryffindor Seventh. Harriet thinks she is Miss Bloody World, Phillips and Marsh worship her and....they do my head in. 'Look at my new hair!' 'Look at my new dress isn't it expensive?' 'My new boyfriend is a international Quidditch player, he took me for a ride in his car!' God, she gets on my tits!"

"I thought you didn't speak to them?" asked Harry.

"Yes, well, now I'm in with you lot, suddenly I'm their friend because I can get them close to a celebrity. It is officially cool to be seen with Harry Potter. I have a purpose." Harry just nodded, trying not to laugh. There followed an uncomfortable silence. Harry, since he couldn't think of anything to say, let his mind wander.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Ginny. "You look very thoughtful."

"I think I need a haircut," replied Harry honestly. "I can't see a damn thing, it is always in my eyes."

~~~~ + ~~~~

Harry arrived ten minutes early for the Quidditch trials next day. It was a wonderful day for Quidditch. The sun was shining, there were no clouds; the temperature was warm with a nice cooling breeze. The stands were packed with Gryffindors, among others. McGonagall herself had made an appearance. Ron was reading the list of hopefuls. There were six trying for the two Beater positions. Among them were Sloper, Wick and Colin Creevey. The other four were a seventh year who kept shooting glances at Katie's chest, a second year who looked like he would be blown off his broomstick, a fourth year who Harry didn't know and a third year who looked surprisingly strong given her age.

Since no one was trying out for Keeper or Seeker, Harry and Ron did not have to fly. Katie on the other hand was up against twelve hopefuls for her place as Chaser. Harry knew she would make it; she was one hell of a Chaser and she had over five years of experience.

The Chasers went first. Their trial consisted of three tests, flying, shooting and then a short match without Bludgers, beaters, keepers or seekers. Since there were thirteen applicants, Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff volunteered to fly as an additional player. The results were interesting to say the least. They varied from superb flyers with butter-fingers, to superb shots who couldn't fly, to completely appalling. There were a few who had a healthy combination. The hardest part was trying to be objective. Ginny, Dean and Katie were flying up there and Harry found himself thinking that he should just give the three of them the positions and call it a day. He threw out that thought and tried to be impartial. In the end, they managed to make their choices, based on how the applicant performed all around, which included mentality. Many were too greedy or wouldn't take a chance when it appeared. In addition they had to consider compatibility. One player, Martin Sozer was the most aggressive person Harry had ever met. He was deliberately obnoxious and in Harry's opinion was the Magical version of Dudley. Unsurprisingly he didn't make the team.

Next came the Beaters. There were seven applicants for the two positions. As before there were three tests; one was flying, one was batting and one was a mock game. The batting, involved Harry and Ron throwing tennis balls at the hopefuls. The main problem was inconsistency. Most of them would vary from misses to an amazing hit. Was this something that training could teach? The mock game was amusing. Colin Creevey was so light that the Bludgers knocked him off course rather than vice versa. Wick was whacking them in all direction. Whether he was aiming or swinging wildly was debatable.

The trials lasted about three hours. When they were finally over, Harry, Ron and Katie sat down by the lack to chew over what they had seen. It took about five minutes.

"Beaters?" asked Ron.

"Colin Creevey and what's-his-name in the third year were to light, the Bludger did more damage to them than they did to it," replied Katie.

"I didn't think much of that guy in your year," said Harry to Katie. "He was inconsistent, he was all over the place. I think it is better to have an average player who is consistent rather than an excellent player who only hits it one time in five."

"I'll agree with that. That third year girl, Davies was strong wasn't she, Merlin. She could hit them as well as Fred or George."

"I'm glad she isn't on the other teams," said Harry. "She'd take my head off."

"I'll second that," replied Katie. "Who does that leave?"

"Wick," replied Harry. "He can really hit those things, and he isn't afraid to get involved. His accuracy wasn't perfect but that is nothing that practice wouldn't cure."

"OK," said Ron. "Let's recap. Colin and Calvin are out as they are too light; I think we can count in Anthea Davies. Wick is good but needs to work on accuracy and practice hitting the Bludgers. We could however say the same thing about Elijah, he was a little inconsistent but practice would fix that? I felt he was the stronger flyer. Then there is the whole getting along thing; Wick can offend anyone. What is Elijah like, Katie?

"Sleazy, nerdy, bit of a twat, can't understand a word he says. To be fair, I'm actually impressed with his performance. I never knew he had it in him."

"So Wickaman and Davies it is," said Ron, scribbling their names onto the parchment her held. "I'll put Elijah as reserve. Now, what about the Chasers? Katie you are definitely back in, no one even came close."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Ron," smiled Katie.

"We need two more," continued Ron. "The only others who really weighed up were Ruth, Martin, Ginny, Dean, Eric, Daniella and... no actually. I was going to say Ernie but then I remembered he isn't even in our house."

"Genius, Ron. Absolute Genius!" laughed Harry.

"Thank you, I'm here all week, be sure to tip your waitress," said Ron. "Anyway..."

"Yes," said Harry. "Sozer was too aggressive, they would get so many penalties we'd be stopping and starting every few seconds. Eric was a little unsure of himself, he tended to back out of tackles, can you teach confidence?"

"Not really," said Katie. "I would have to go for Ginny and Ruth with Daniella as reserve, no Ginny and Daniella with Ruth in res...oh I don't know. Those three anyway."

"Harry?" asked Ron.

"Ginny is very good, Dean had butter fingers so yes those three, I'm not entirely sure of the order we should use them. Daniella and Ruth are both really good I couldn't say who is better. How do they get on with us? I don't think Ruth would get along with Wick, he probably made one too many sexist jokes around her. Daniella I don't really know."

"She's in the year below Ginny," said Ron. "I have seen them chatting, them seem OK together."

"Danni then?"

"Yes," said Katie.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Right, we have our seven," said Ron. "I feel really mean now, not letting the others in."

"Don't worry about it, most can try out next year when I'm gone and then in two years all three of us will be gone."

"Thanks, Katie, Harry. I'll get this copied up and then put it up in the common room."

"Seeya," called Harry.

"Seeya, mate," Ron called back.

"Well that was fun," said Katie. "I'm glad I don't have to tell four beaters and ten chasers that they have not made it. Oh bugger, I have patrols tonight."

"Who with?"

"Creevey."

"Sounds fun," muttered Harry lying back with his hands behind his head. "has you asked for an interview yet?"

"No, not yet." Katie laughed. She suddenly stopped. "Harry," she said softly.

"Yes," replied Harry.

"Don't move."

"What?"

"We are being watched."

"Who, where?"

"I don't know. I saw a reflection from a lens; there it is again," said Katie.

"Bloody pervert," muttered Harry. "Shall we?"

"The old baited trap ploy?" grinned Katie.

They stood up and holding hands, walked into the bushes on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They moved a few metres in, about fifty along from where their 'admirer' was concealed. Here they waited, crouched behind one of the larger bushes.

After a minute or so, Harry heard a twig snap. He held his breath he saw a pair of legs move along the other side of the bush. He gave Katie a nod. She moved to the left of the bush and stood up.

"Can I help you?" she asked with a smile. The man froze in shock for a second, then turned to flee; He came face to face with Harry, who had emerged from the other side of the bush. Harry raised a hand and the man's camera flew out of his hand into Harry's.

"Bird watching?" asked Harry innocently.

"In a manner of speaking," stuttered the man.

"Who are you?" asked Katie.

"Tim, I'm Tim, just Tim. Tim Bateman. I'm a photographer."

"Daily Prophet?"

"Freelance."

"You're paparazzi aren't you?" Katie asked in disgust.

"I am a freelance photographer. Give me a snap or two and I can get you anywhere. Harry, how about Quidditch Quarterly? I could even get your lass here a topless in WQ magazine, that's Wizard's Quarterly, Harry."

"Piss off!" spat Katie. Harry had a sudden urge to hit this man but giving a story like that to a professional sneak was not a good idea especially when he'd been branded as violent and delusional only a year before.

"Mr. Bateman," said Harry. "You do realise that you are trespassing. You also realise that this is harassment as well as invasion of privacy. If you do not wish for me to have the Aurors cart you away, I suggest you leave this school immediately and never show your face here again."

"Aurors?"

"Yes, Aurors," said Katie. "You know, Aurors. Big guys in red robes who wouldn't think twice abut hexing you from here to kingdom come. He could say that you were molesting me, who would take the word of a sneaky little pervert over the famous Harry Potter and a witness? Are you aware of the penalty for sexual harassment, not to mention paedophilia? We are in a school after all."

"Fine, OK; I'm gone," replied the photographer. He took a few steps then paused. "Can I have my camera back?" he asked. Harry looked down at the camera. He opened the case and removed the film before throwing it back to its owner.

"We're keeping the film. If you don't like it," he threw it into the lake, "ask the Giant Squid for it back." With that, he and Katie walked back up to the castle, arm in arm. When they got there, there was an addition to the notice board.

Gryffindor Quidditch Team

Keeper

Ronald Weasley (Cpt)

Chasers

Kathryn Bell

Virginia Weasley

Daniella Anderson

Beaters

Mark Wickaman

Anthea Davies

Seeker

Harry Potter

Reserves

Ruth Strugnell (Chsr)

Elijah Faraday (Btr)

Next Practice: Tuesday 8^th September 18:30 Main Pitch.

"Well, at least that is sorted," muttered Katie as they took a seat by the fire.