Blood Magic

Flying and Digging

Harry stretched experimentally as he surveyed the cluster of Gryffindors who had showed up for tryouts. Snape had told him to skip the muscle relaxants the night before any game or practice, and he was trying to decided if he felt sore from that, or if he was just normally tense and abnormally aware of it. Maybe I should schedule practices so I still have the potion every other night.

The Gryffindor hopefuls ranged from a determined-looking second year girl to a fifth-year boy who seemed to regard the team as Andrew and Jack's new social club. Harry caught himself mentally discounting both, then had to remind himself that he had joined the team his first year. He looked at the second-year girl again, and shook his head in amazement. I was even younger than that, he thought. A little kid, really. And Fred and George and Alicia and Angelina and Katie put up with me? But they were only a year older than this girl, themselves. How strange!

He decided to make sure she had a fair chance to show her stuff.

Harry had the prospective Chasers first try goals against Ron, then passes among themselves. After that, he chose the top four and had them play two-on-two, with a beater on each side. He drafted Dean, who was watching, into guarding the second goal.

"But I've never even tried that!" Dean protested.

Harry handed him a school broom and shooed him towards the pitch. "Just think of it as football," he said. "Except you mostly use your hands. And you're flying on a broomstick." When Dean looked incredulously back at him, he said, "Dean, you don't have to be any good at it. Just get up there."

Ron came by and hovered near him.

"I'm going to use the candy."

"Don't make anyone fall," Harry warned.

"I won't."

"And nothing insulting."

Ron rolled his eyes. "All right, then," he said. "Any other rules?"

"Just be sensible, all right?"

Ron nodded and flew off, ignoring a wave from Colin, who was flying about the perimeter of the pitch with his cameras, diligently photographing everything.

Ginny, as Harry had expected, was easily the best available Chaser. After that, he had picked a fifth-year boy named Martin Glen, a third-year named Ignatius Ingham (who seemed to go by Iggy), and the second-year girl, Teresa Emmet. He teamed Martin with Teresa and Ginny with Iggy, then, as Martin and Teresa seemed to be playing against each other, rather than with each other, Martin with Iggy and Ginny with Teresa. He had just decided that it was Martin who was the problem, as he and Iggy were now failing to work in concert, when he heard a sudden, deep "Yeow!" from the bludger, just as Andrew hit it. Andrew flew straight backwards, yelping. The bludger howled and shrieked and swore its way across the field to Teresa, who ducked, looped it once to draw it near Martin, then caught a toss from Ginny. She easily got the quaffle past Ron, who was laughing too hard to guard. The Bludger had stopped vocalizing -- for, Harry suspected, the same reason. Colin's camera flashed constantly through the whole scene.

Harry let them play for a few more minutes, switched Ginny to playing with Martin, as she hadn't got a chance to watch him, then called them down a few minutes later.

"All right," he said. "Thank you all for showing up -- that was some great playing. Ginny, you're in." He looked around at the other three. Teresa, who had landed looking flushed and elated, now looked nervous. Martin looked haughty. Iggy was staring at his toes. "The team needs to talk about who else to take on. Ginny was a special case, as she was just doing a position change. We'll let you know when we have a decision -- before dinner, probably."

Harry led the team into the changing rooms, and sat down on a bench. "Iggy and Teresa," he said.

"Yes," Ginny agreed.

"Teresa?!" Andrew protested. "But she's only twelve!"

"Yes. And she's that good at twelve. As good as Iggy, and better than Martin."

Ron shook his head. "Martin has a much stronger throw."

"Martin wants to be the only Chaser," Ginny said contemptuously. "He wouldn't work with me at all."

"He didn't work with anybody," Harry confirmed. "That's why I kept switching the combinations around -- to make sure it was him."

"I still say twelve is too young," Andrew said.

"It's older than I was," Harry pointed out.

For a moment, everyone was silent.

"Wow," Ron said finally.

"Yeah. That was my feeling. I didn't think of myself as that young when I was."

"There's another advantage to her," Jack said thoughtfully.

"What?"

"It staggers the team ages, right? We won't have this huge turnover, again. I mean, that's our biggest problem for this season, isn't it? Even if we're all good, we still need to learn to work together."

"So not Martin," Ginny said emphatically.

Andrew reluctantly conceded, and the decision was made. Still, as they were leaving, he commented to Ron:

"It won't be as much fun, will it? I mean, with a little kid around."

Ron shrugged. Harry interrupted.

"If you can't have fun just playing Quidditch, go somewhere else. This is not a social club for upperclassmen. We certainly don't need to do anything you can't do in front of a second-year."

"So," Hermione said over dinner, in the businesslike manner that indicated an incipient project. "We have a job for tomorrow."

"We do?" Ron asked, looking up from his plate in bewilderment.

"I have a three o'clock meeting with Snape," Harry said firmly.

"You do?" Ron repeated. "But, Harry, we have plans."

"We do?" Harry asked. At the significant look he was receiving from Ron, he suddenly remembered -- the WWW tricks testing party. "Oh, hell. We do. Well, we'll have to start early, then. Snape should understand if I show up green." Ron looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. Harry grinned. "Might even make him laugh."

"Snape? Laugh? This isn't any Snape I've met," Ron snorted.

Harry smiled. "No, probably not."

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," Hermione said icily, "perhaps you could tell me what you'll be busy with Sunday?"

"You don't really want to know, Hermione," Ron answered.

Hermione looked at Harry, who shrugged. "He's probably right. I mean, you'll find out, but you don't want to know ahead of time."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, "You're a prefect."

"Yeah. Isn't that grand?"

"Hermione," Harry said firmly, "we will not be breaking any school rules. We will be in Gryffindor tower. It's okay."

"You know I'm going to imagine the most horrible, dangerous things," Hermione said pleadingly. "Tell me, please?"

Harry looked around. He thought a few nearby people, though not looking at them, were suspiciously quiet. "Okay, we'll tell you. But not here. After dinner."

"Could this whatever be rescheduled?"

"No. Other people are involved."

"Very well." Hermione sighed. "We'll need to start the library work tonight, then."

"Library work?" Ron said. "What library work?"

"Researching Augustus Maitland, of course! How long did you intend to put it off?"

"Who's Augustus Maitland?"

"Remember? Snape said you would find his history educational?"

"So? I don't take extra assignments from Snape! He's not even one of my instructors, anymore."

"Still! Don't you want to know?"

"I don't," Harry said decisively. I don't want them poking around in the history of my parents' class -- in all the meanings of 'my parents'. Hermione will find something incriminating -- I know she will.

"But why would Snape mention him?" Hermione asked insistently. "It could be important! Come help me, at least. I have a new spell that I've been meaning to show you -- it will make your schoolwork easier."

So it was that after dinner, Harry found himself reluctantly accompanying Hermione and Ron to the library. She selected a few texts and took them back to the tables. The top one was a basic potions text -- Harry was certain she knew everything in it. Hell, Ron probably knows everything in it.

"Now, suppose I want to find all the spells that require sea serpent scales --" Hermione began.

"Why?" Ron interrupted.

"Well, maybe I have some and want to sell them."

"Maybe someone has been buying them and I want to know what he might be doing," Harry suggested.

Ron grinned. "Maybe they're all over the floor of Snape's lab, and I want to know what blew up."

"Fine," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, you want to find them all. Watch."

She placed a blank piece of parchment on the table, the book on the parchment, and another blank piece of parchment on the book. On the top parchment she wrote "sea serpent". Then she took out her wand and tapped the stack firmly. "Indicio!"

A ripple of light and darkness moved through the pages, then stilled. Hermione lifted the book. The lower parchment now had a list of pages numbers corresponding to lines containing the words "sea serpent."

"Clever," Harry admitted.

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. "No more paging through everything! How long have you known this, Hermione?"

"I just learned it this summer." Hermione flushed with pride. "I'll be able to write much better essays, now, I'm sure."

She took the next book, which was titled "A Survey of Notable Hogwarts Graduates, 1960 to 1980." She repeated the spell, this time writing "Augustus Mayland" on the top sheet. Harry frowned for a moment, then found himself smiling. He covered it by sitting down and pulling out a book. He had seen Maitland's name written in the front of one of Severus's books, and he was sure it had a silent "t" in it.

When the library closed, two hours later, Hermione had still not found a reference for Mayland, Mailand, Maeland, Maland, or Meiland in any of two dozen references. She was not discouraged.

"He may be much further back -- I started with modern references -- or he may have died before graduation. If I don't find anything in historical references, I'll start working back through periodicals. Of course, I could have the final vowel wrong. Perhaps it's an e, or an i, or a y. A u, even."

Hermione, still walking, looked around hurriedly to check that no one was near. "Now," she said firmly, "why is it that you two can't help me, tomorrow?

Harry slowed in his pace to look over at her. "We're having a testing party with some stuff Fred and George sent me," he told her.

"What?!"

"Except me," Ron said hurriedly. "I'm just watching in case somebody needs a charm, or an escort to the Hospital wing."

"So 'we' is?"

"All the sixth year boys, except Ron."

"I thought we were done with this when they left!"

"Hermione, look -- I'm not paying first years to do it, okay? And this is all stuff they thought I'd find funny -- Ron recognized about half of it."

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I want you in the common room," she said. "So I'm there if anything goes wrong."

"You're not worried about it being a bad influence on the younger kids?"

Hermione snorted. "As if I could prevent that! You know perfectly well they did this for the advertising."

"Well, it was my birthday present, really. It's just, most of this stuff is no fun alone, or with people who won't laugh when you've suddenly got a tail, or rainbow-striped hair, or everything you say coming out backwards, or rhyming."

Hermione giggled, then clapped her hand over her mouth. "I'm not amused!" she squeaked.

Harry put an arm around her and pulled her close. He realized he was now tall enough to kiss her forehead comfortably, so he did. "Of course you're not," he said affably. "And you won't have any fun watching us, either." That struck him as odd, when he said it. Of course Hermione would not participate, but perhaps she would like to be invited? "You're welcome to play, too, you know," he said seriously.

"I'm not a sixth-year boy," Hermione said flatly.

Harry shrugged. Ah! So she would like to be invited. "So you weren't around for the planning, which was up in our dormitory. You can still play. Just come by and sit down if you want to."