Harry Potter and the Magical Tours

The day after his Quidditch conference with Katie and Alicia, Harry used the first opportunity, which meant after lunch, to visit the Ravenclaw table for a conversation. When he approached, Cho looked at him expectantly, while Almyra smiled openly.

He said, "Hi. May I sit down?"

A queenly movement of Cho's hand gave permission.

"How was your conversation yesterday?" he asked.

Almyra's pleased smile was very informative but Cho, now a bit less queen-like, snapped, "That's none of your business."

"That's not how I see it ..." Harry glanced at Almyra, then back at Cho. "I might repeat the question later, and individually to each of you."

"Oh, might you? Well, there's freedom of speech ..."

He nodded.

"... and freedom of silence."

"Freedom?" Harry looked at Almyra, his eyebrows rising.

Cho smiled, although differently from Almyra. "Or something similar. How was your meeting yesterday?"

"We exchanged opinions, and agreed upon measures." He stared at Cho in disbelief. "Do you really expect details?"

"See what I mean? Freedom of silence."

Harry grinned. "After the confidential part, we went swimming. It was great."

Cho's eyes narrowed. "Swimming? I didn't see towels or swimsuits."

"True - we didn't have any, but we managed without. Under the - "

"Did you? And you're really sure this part is non-confidential?"

Harry felt a bit annoyed at being interrupted for no good reason, and maybe at more. "Yes, I am. There was something that sounded like an invitation to a threesome, but I'd say it was a joke."

Cho's incredulous stare flew to the Gryffindor table, back to Harry, her voice almost a hissing. "Those two overheated Chasers were trying to round off the evening with ..."

Considering the lake's cold water, overheated was probably the wrong term, but then, maybe Cho's snarl came closer to the truth than expected. Anyway, Harry wasn't going to comment on her unfinished sentence.

Nonetheless - time to parry.

He dropped to his right knee. His left arm crossed his chest, the other reached into the air, palm upward. "Mylady, I swear - no improper thought crossed my mind, no unchaste harm was done. Never would your devoted knight do so untrustful ..."

Laughter and applause from the Ravenclaw girls around him.

"... after he has vowed eternal faith."

Cho's face tried the impossible - to look pleased as much as murderous.

Harry stood up and sat down again. "Now that that's settled - I came over to talk about dance lessons."

Cho seemed to struggle with the change of subject. "Go ahead," she said finally, "you might benefit from them. Although, dancing requires a partner, right?"

"Yes - and that's what I came to ask you."

"Well - it's a thought ... I'll give it careful consideration."

Time to strike. "In the meantime, Fleur's asked me if I'll be her assistant."

So far, Almyra had been following the conversation alternating between suppressed grins and suppressed gasps. Now her expression was one of admiration mixed with curiosity, depending on who she was watching.

Cho, in contrast, looked trapped. "And what was your answer?"

"I have an obligation to her, so my answer was yes. I won't be the only one, so it won't conflict with taking lessons, too."

Cho kept silent for a moment, then smiled. "Your manoeuver meets all the qualifications for a perfect blackmail, my clever knight, with two exceptions. You're honest - of course you couldn't say no. And of course I want to dance - with you, Lucky Potter."

* * *

Just when Harry thought the storm of negotiations for the new year had been settled, Ron grabbed him, after supper. "Harry, can we talk? Somewhere quiet?" Ron glanced around. "Not here in the castle ..."

"That fits nicely - I have to talk with you, and I know where ... Let's go swimming."

This time with bathing drawers and towels, they fetched their broomsticks and flew to the place of the Gryffindor Quidditch meeting. Naturally, a round of swimming came first. Then Ron sat down, the towel still in his hand. "Who's first?"

Harry had a feeling what Ron's topic might be. "Mine is about Quidditch," he said, "shall we discuss it first?"

Ron agreed, relieved as well as expectant.

Harry explained the plan: to form a Beater team with Ron and himself, provided they found a new Seeker, but in any case to have Ron on the team, on the condition that he'd take the captaincy.

Ron beamed at Harry. "What a stupid question."

"Maybe so - but for the sake of completeness - "

"Yes, I will." Next second, Ron looked startled. "Harry - do you remember the Mirror of Erised? I'll never make it Head Boy, but otherwise - I'm prefect, kind of, and soon I'll be Quidditch captain ... It's a bit frightening, know what I mean?"

Harry remembered his own reminiscencing. "I'm not trying to scare you, but ... what makes you so sure you won't be Head Boy?"

A choked laugh. "I think it's no question who that'll be: you."

Harry shook his head. "Probably not. I'm kind of a special case with some weird abilities, that's all. And I'll reduce my investment in anything that's not crucial for my goal. Consider me out of the game in this regard."

Ron looked thoughtful. "Well, then ..." Guessing from his expression, he seemed to search for a smooth transition to his own topic.

Harry tried to help. "By the way, yesterday, we went swimming too, after the meeting. Without suits - Cho almost had a fit when she heard about it."

Ron glanced at him, then cleared his throat. "Recently, you seem to get along quite well with such - er, situations."

"Yes ..." After several of these conversations in the recent days, Harry found his next words easily. "I had a teacher in Japan, and I'm not talking about Shigura ... Her name is Tamiko."

Ron nodded. "I thought as much. Although, it would have been decent of you to tell me ... I mean ..."

Harry nodded. "I know, except I didn't know how to ... I'm sorry - it wasn't my intention to make it so embarrassing for you like it was in the train."

"Yeah ... But it's okay, I wouldn't ..." Ron glanced again. "Although ... with Ginny, you had less of a problems talking."

"It wasn't me who started that conversation; she found out immediately. And besides, talking with the other sex about that is somehow simpler - I mean if it's serious talk."

"Then you're ahead of me ..." Ron laughed, a bit shakily. "Nonsense - you're ahead of me anyway - that's why I want to talk with you."

"Yes, I know ... Ask."

Easier said than done - Ron seemed at a loss to find the first question out of a million.

After a moment, Harry said, "Ron, let me guess. You want to do with Janine what the Japanese call the journey toward the clouds and the rain, and it's the first time, at least for you, and you want to get as much information as you can get."

"Erm - yes. Clouds and rain? That's nice - " Ron stopped, seemed to remember a scene in the Hogwarts Express, laughed, "That's why," and then sobered up again as he found his way back to his own topic.

His first question had to do with general approaches, and communication.

"Ron - I don't think that's a problem at all. You understand her signals quite clearly, I'm sure about that - the only difference between you and me is, I know what these signals mean, while you aren't sure yet."

"Yes, I think you're right ... There were ... and I had the feeling - only, where we've been at that occasion, it would have ..."

"Yeah," said Harry, for whom the issue of location was less urgent, "neither Hogwarts nor Beauxbatons is properly suited, definitely not."

They both laughed.

"But it's summer, isn't it? Warm outside, and it's nice to go swimming, find a place, and wait for darkness. This lake isn't small - and there's no hassle with clothes." A picture in his mind made Harry giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"Clothes ... In my first lesson, Tamiko taught me how to undress her - no, it wasn't the first lesson - well, let's say the first real lesson. Er, without getting lost in details - having to take off just a swimsuit isn't a disadvantage for the first time."

"Probably ... Only, I don't know if ... When it hasn't developed that far yet, and it's not yet dark, and ..."

In some sense, the conversation felt as difficult for Harry as it certainly was for Ron. Where Ron lacked topic-related information, Harry wasn't used to brotherly talk. So he swallowed once before saying, "Ron, to put it quite frankly - if you have a hard-on, and her nipples are trying to come through the suit, you two won't have any question whatsoever."

"Sure, but - what if it's only me? I think I would - "

"It's no reason for embarrassment. Think of it objectively - it's a clear signal, and considering the state between her and you, I can tell you - she'll be pleased, and she'll respond immediately."

Then Ron had a question which hadn't been answered by dry facts from different sources.

"No, it can't be confused with anything else, not even shortly after swimming. It feels differently, smells differently, its taste is ..."

Ron gasped a bit.

"... even the first time, it's unmistakable and quite - er, thrilling, take my word for it."

Ron did.

"Which reminds me ..." Having come that far, Harry felt the obligation to address an issue to which he couldn't realistically expect a question from Ron. He said, "Erm - there's an inevitable bit of clumsiness at the first time, although it might be the same for her ..."

Ron felt pretty sure about that, except he doubted that she would behave clumsily.

"... anyway, it might happen you're a bit too quick for her - um, leave her behind ... In this case, no need for panic. Women need much longer to calm down, while for us ... Ron, you'll be surprised how quickly afterwards you can start over again."

Ron, definitely eager to believe, still had some doubts.

"If you think it takes too long, or if your eleventh finger needs a little rest, there are ten others left to help, right?"

Ron agreed, reluctantly.

"Let me put it that way ..." This said, Harry took his time to figure out which words to use, finally continued, "There's foreplay, and midplay, and afterplay, which has a tendency to turn out foreplay ... Then, there are two bodies, with lots of things, including hands, lips, tongues ... What I've learned from Tamiko is - if you try something, and her reaction tells you it would be awfully wrong to stop now, or if she tries something, and you find you can't think clearly, there's nothing wrong. Nothing."

Ron was impressed, saying that he would have liked a similar opportunity.

"Well," sighed Harry, "I had it, and now I have to pay for it, but you - the path is open for you, and you can ask me."

Ron laughed, then his voice turned sympathetic. "She's giving you hell, isn't she?"

"Oh yes, she is."

"When will it stop?"

Harry sighed again. "Good question ... She loves me, and I know she wants it as much as I do. But she also wants to punish me, quite naturally. What I have to do is suffer as much, or as quickly, as possible while at the same time doing what I can to make the other wish stronger."

"Well, you had your training - it should be helpful in that task."

"Oh yes, it is ... only a bit torturous."

Then Ron had a final question about variations, more exactly, positions.

"Hmm - we didn't want to perform acrobatics, so ... The variations come very naturally, depending on who's doing what, and who feels like being on top ... It's the same rule - if both think it's a great idea, they'll do it, if not, they'll drop it."

"Sounds simple, after all."

"It is," replied Harry, the expert, "it's just because it's the first time ... In a way, it's like before you were flying a broomstick for the first time - you were pretty sure you'd be able to do it, and at least as good as the others - only, you'd never done it before."

Ron admitted this was exactly the feeling, and wanted to discuss broomsticks, or rather Quidditch, a moment longer before returning to Hogwarts - maybe to round up the conversation, more likely to calm down before walking to their own Firebolt and Steel Wing, lying in the grass a few steps away.

* * *

Marie-Christine had no chance to grab Harry, due to sheer distance. But she sent a letter, through Fleur, who passed Harry's desk at breakfast, dropped it, said "'arry - mail for you," and it was Harry himself who grabbed the parchment before it floated to the floor.

Marie-Christine wanted to meet - at Beauxbatons, at Hogwarts, anywhere - and, of course, to pull Harry away to a quiet place and talk with him.

He decided to invite her to Hogwarts, for the weekend, for Saturday. It would mean that Cho would have a chance to be around. The thought of meeting Marie-Christine at Beauxbatons, certainly without Cho, didn't strike him as a good idea - not now and maybe never.

After lunch, he walked over for the habitual question: "In the mood for a walk?"

Cho was, and invited Al, after asking Harry sweetly, and rhetorically, "Mind if Al joins us?" Actually, he didn't mind at all.

Outside, Cho asked, "Was this your schedule as a dance assistant, at breakfast?"

Of course, the letter from Fleur. "No, it wasn't ... Marie-Christine wants to talk with me."

"And what do you want?"

"I want to talk with her - now that I'm no longer involved in Al's project." Harry watched Cho's reaction carefully, trying to find out more about her knowledge of Almyra's current project.

Unfortunately, another issue dominated in Cho's mind. "Then go ahead," she said, accelerating her step, about to walk away.

"Cho - please!" He took step with her. "Marie-Christine certainly has information about Voldemort I can use. It's a mutual business."

"Mutual business - is this the nice English term, Harry?"

It was so childish, and had so much to do with reaching adulthood.

"No, we're not going to - " He stopped himself, just barely.

"I have to deal with Voldemort, and I promised to come back to you, and for that I need all preparation I can get" - anger was boiling in him - "and if this implies dancing naked around a fire together with three witches, I'll do it!"

She giggled - she really did.

"I've invited her for Saturday."

Cho stiffened instantly. "You didn't ask me beforehand!"

"No. When I said I'll court you, I didn't say I give up my free will ... We'll meet here, so you can join us" - he turned to Almyra - "and you too."

"You didn't ask her if she agrees to that."

Hearing Cho arguing in favour of Marie-Christine felt strange to Harry's ears, and somehow even more childish than the remark from a moment ago. He waved dismissively. "Marie-Christine's so much after what I can give her, she'll agree to anything."

Something in his choice of words had been awfully wrong. Cho stopped, turned, and walked away.

Harry watched her leaving, then turned to Almyra. "Please follow her - she won't beat you up."

* * *

The conversation with Cho hadn't been the best preparation for Harry's role in Kenzo's inaugural demonstration. The Japanese teacher would present an overview of the disciplines in the new course, and for that he needed Harry's assistance. However, the thought of the first exercise with his new sensei was enough to move anything else to the background.

Several rooms had been combined to create a training hall - the same hall which also would serve for dance lessons. With great disappointment, Harry became aware that one of the three rooms had been the one in which he, Ron, and Hermione had met during their Giants project, the same that had served for his lessons with Fleur.

But then, if you believed in omens, this should be a good one.

He recognized a familiar-looking camera. Kenzo confirmed that yes, their performance was being recorded and simultaneously presented in the spector room. And the seats there, as Harry learned, were filled as completely as the limited number of spectator seats in the hall.

He wondered who might be in the spector room. Coming into the hall, dressed in the familiar unshapely cotton clothes, he had a short moment for glancing around and could see Ron, Almyra, Ginny ... as well as less familiar faces.

He reached the spot several yards away from the sensei.

Kenzo bowed.

Harry bowed more deeply.

Coming up, he saw the sensei's body already in the air, coming toward him, leg outstretched, one arm flat forward, the other up in the air, ready to strike the blow, should his own body still be within reach.

He fell down and forward, then jumped, rolling head over heel, turning, ducking low, ready to act, open to all sides.

Kenzo was already coming, step by step in perfect balance, his left arm outstretched, palm flat and hard, his right arm close to the body, forming a blade from the elbow to the fingertips.

Harry came up. His right leg came up higher. Like a dancer, he stretched, turning; then his leg shot forward, outward, no longer finding a target as expected, while his crossed arms blocked the counter blow he knew was coming.

It was perfect, wonderful, breathtaking, more for the audience than for the two of them. Harry felt a strong harmony with the sensei, was anticipating every move, fully aware of Kenzo restricting himself to Harry's limited repertoire.

Less than a minute later, it was over. For the final blow, Kenzo had released himself from the limitation and had struck an artful blow, pushing Harry off balance, followed by a hit with the leg. Now he knelt over Harry, his flat hand barely above Harry's face.

The sensei stepped back. As if pulled from strings, Harry's body came up, stood.

They bowed simultaneously.

It took a second before the roaring applause started. When it faded, Kenzo explained to the audience what they had seen. Then he moved to a corner and came back with two bokken.

He walked to Harry and passed one of them over to him. Their eyes met for an instant, shining light and burning fire.

Kenzo turned, made a step to reach his position.

"Hai!"

The cry had come from Harry's lips. He pushed forward before Kenzo had time to turn; thus he had to parry with the bokken at his back, and to retreat, defending against Harry's fierce attack.

Close to the end of the hall, Harry felt his momentum had faded, the sensei was in full control again. Harry stopped, then retreated quickly, not turning, his bokken outstretched, holding the middle.

In the centre of the hall, he stopped again, raising the bokken to the above.

Kenzo was coming, accelerating at full force, his own bokken in the middle, close to the body.

Harry stood motionless, waiting until the sensei was in striking distance. His bokken crashed down at the same time as the other came forward; it hit and struck the other to the below. Harry retreated and wheeled around, regaining the middle, ready to push.

But of course, Kenzo was out of reach by then.

This dance lasted longer, with short pauses. It ended with Harry's bokken stopping a fraction of an inch from the sensei's temple, while Kenzo's sword was pointing Harry's heart, each barely touching.

They both stepped back and bowed again.

After the new tumult of applause had faded, Kenzo explained how the lessons would be organized, that classes would be formed by experience rather than age, and what would be the first topics.

Harry began to demonstrate these first topics: how to walk balanced, even when being pushed by Kenzo; how to fall, rolling and coming up again, and then how to fall while avoiding the sensei's leg which came toward him like a sword, fast only in the eyes of the spectators.

After the demonstration, Ron as well as Ginny tried to join Harry, admiration in their faces. He pushed them off with a "Later," because he had a more urgent question of his own, to be asked before the spectators left to make room for the dance lessons that would follow soon afterwards.

He reached Almyra. "How did it go?"

Her eyes met his. If he hadn't known her better, and Lupin, he would have thought ... She sounded more out of breath than he himself.

"I never saw anything like it, Harry. It was - "

"No - I mean after lunch. Did she say ..."

Almyra's hand was on his shoulder, soothing, maybe a bit caressing. "Don't worry - and don't ask me, because - " Almyra glanced up briefly. "See that camera up there?"

* * *

The dance lesson was for beginners. By the time Harry had showered and changed clothes, there was hardly time enough for Fleur to prepare him for the first steps to teach, more specifically for the typical mistakes he should detect, and correct.

He saw mainly fourth-years, fifth-years, the girls younger than the boys, of course; both sides were equally embarrassed in the first minutes, the awkwardness fading quicker here, slower there, or not at all in this first lesson with some of them. Fleur had restricted this course not only to beginners but also to this age, fully aware of the disastrous impact older students would have, not to mention beginners among the teachers.

Harry felt a strong empathy with them, remembering his own feelings so well. After a short break, while everybody was still waiting for Fleur, who had used the time to deal with something in her office, he took the magiphone and stepped forward.

"While Fleur is still outside," he said, "let me tell you something. Less than a year ago I was here also, in one of the rooms that were joined to form this hall, and did my first dance steps with her. I had asked her to teach me, because - there was a girl, you know."

They listened breathlessly.

"Well - what I'm trying to say is, I felt so clumsy, and young, and was turning red all the time, what with her body so close to mine ..."

The word alone had the same effect in many faces.

"... anyway, the message is: get your feet dancing, and don't care whether you're pink from a quick waltz or from something else."

Fleur appeared. She saw him and smiled. "Telling secrets, Harry?"

"No, just explaining how come I know this room from the past year."

* * *

After supper, Harry was about to make his usual trip to the Ravenclaw table when he saw Cho walk away, not waiting for him.

That was fine, sure ... No, actually, it wasn't.

At least it gave him the opportunity to find out about another item on his agenda, to grab someone himself in search for a quiet place. He hurried after his younger sister. "Ginny, can we talk?"

She looked a bit surprised, maybe self-conscious, then nodded.

"Ask Ron for his Firebolt," said Harry, then added, "And don't forget a towel and a swimsuit."

Ginny's expression changed to a naughty grin. "Do we need them?"

"Yes, we do! See you outside."

In the air, he asked her to chase him. She didn't understand, and said, "I think I shouldn't?"

"Up here it's okay." He accelerated.

She wasn't up to his skill, naturally; however, what Harry saw looked promising. Then he changed roles, ordered her to escape from him as the hunter, ignoring as he did another remark from her.

Ginny's repertoire of manoeuvers was quite limited, though her handling of the Firebolt, her balance, and her lack of hesitation at driving the broomstick to its limits, were enough to confirm his guess - she would win any contest against other candidates. The only question left: did Quidditch appeal to her?

They reached the swimming place and touched down.

Ginny stripped to her swimsuit underneath, her movements suddenly a bit awkward, anxious to keep away from him. Not waiting, not turning, she reached the waterline, jumped in, and started to swim with strong strokes.

Harry suppressed a smile, and reached the water moments later, for himself eager to explore the depths with more light than two evenings before. When he came out, Ginny was already sitting there, looking calmer than at their arrival.

He toweled himself off and sat down beside her, looking in the same direction.

"It's Quidditch ... The Gryffindors need some new team members, among them a new Chaser together with Katie and Alicia."

He saw her glance, her deep inhaling.

"On the way over here, I checked a bit whether my assumption was correct. I was pretty sure you'd be good on a broomstick, only I didn't know about your interest. Well, what I saw in the air confirmed my assumption ..."

Ginny looked very pleased.

"... and if I'm not much mistaken, what I didn't see afterwards answered the other question."

A deep red filled her face.

"Sorry, that wasn't very tactful." With surprise, Harry registered this amazing example of the difference between right and true. "Okay - for compensation, and maybe to prepare you for your future team ..." He informed her about the scene at the same place, two days ago.

Ginny had calmed down, and wasn't surprised. "See, I told you so."

"Yes, you did."

"Especially Katie - she never struck me as the type to miss an opportunity."

"That's funny ... she seemed to have a similar opinion of you - except that she spoke more in future tenses."

Ginny grinned, totally unembarrassed. "Well, she's two years ahead. Aside from that ... yeah, I think we'll be a very harmonious team - some shared interests" - with a glance to him - "if not shared experiences."

Harry grinned, taking her mood. "Well, in the Gryffindor team, you won't find many, er, candidates to share some interest."

"No - but maybe it doesn't matter."

Harry examined Ginny's face and tried to remember the past days, their past conversations, what he'd seen and heard recently. Then he understood. "Will you do kenjutsu as well?"

Ginny's head flew around, her expression frightened for a split second; then she calmed down, filled with something like awe. "Whew - for a moment ... Harry, that wasn't very kind, much worse than - "

"Sorry - but then, take into account my Japanese, er, lessons."

"Yes ..."

She had forgotten his question, preoccupied by her own. "Well, then," she said, "what's your comment?"

Harry was thinking of teachers and students, wondering if there was a case somewhere with changed roles, couldn't think of any. "Aside from the obvious problem, because he's a teacher - an excellent choice ... I wish you luck."

"Really?"

"Yes. In our performances today - you know, with a sensei, you exchange more than blows and strikes. It includes feelings, and spirit ... I think he's a wonderful teacher" - Harry grinned - "in various disciplines."

"Watching you two ..." Ginny glanced at him, turning red again when he met her eyes.

Maybe to compensate for his tactlessness before, and maybe just because it was true, Harry said, "If it's any comfort - you're not alone with your problem, these days."

Ginny hadn't caught the message, and looked perplexed.

"Maybe not in an anatomical sense, but in a metaphorical one," explained Harry.

"Oh ..." With wonder in her voice, Ginny asked, "And then you decline - "

He interrupted her. "So what? Isn't it the same with you?"

She nodded, bringing to his mind the picture of Grigorij, who walked through Hogwarts like Harry had felt some time ago. Then she said, "Anyway, Harry - I'll keep you informed."

"Huh?" This wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

"Yeah," explained Ginny, "for once, because you're a bit too good at guessing, and in my jumpy state ... And then, erm - I might need some advice some time soon."

"Soon?"

"Well - hopefully so."

* * *

In Charms, Madam Hooch asked Harry whether he might have the courtesy to listen to her explanations.

In Potions, Professor McGonagall asked him whether they should switch to a love potion, so he would pay attention, earning laughter for a seemingly excellent joke.

In Transfiguration, Lupin simply asked him for the favour of keeping his mind on the subject, doing so with a sympathetic smile.

None of them had been exactly wrong with their assumptions, although it wasn't Cho who lingered in Harry's mind, at least not just her. In a little while, he would join Viktor for the Gryffindor first-years' introduction to broomsticks, and his mind was travelling six years back in time.

And of course, they needed a Seeker.

Harry and Viktor were the only ones with a Firebolt. True, a first-year on a Firebolt was exactly what Harry had in mind - however only after checking them on old Cleansweep Sevens, or Comets at the most.

Viktor introduced Harry as a guest of honour, the youngest Seeker in a hundred years, joining them to show the Gryffindors that there might be a short path to fame and glory on a Quidditch team, and to assist him, the teacher, just in case.

Viktor had an excuse for this introduction - after all, Harry's presence had to be explained somehow. Even so, Harry followed a very un-Japanese impulse and returned the favour by telling the gaping audience that their teacher, until two years ago, had been the Seeker on the National Quidditch Team of Bulgaria.

It earned him an angry look from Viktor. Totally unimpressed, and gloating inside, Harry called, "And Mr Krum came here to Hogwarts ..."

Viktor's face froze in horror.

"... to fight with us in the Battle of Hogwarts. He was the leader of the Hogwarts Flying Squad."

This said, Harry needed all his recent training to keep his face steady, while admiring Viktor's skill in this regard - the Bulgarian had to balance gratefulness for Harry's censored version with a murderous impulse, and all this while more than a dozen students were staring at him in awe.

Then Viktor ordered the students to take position next to a broomstick, and Harry watched their different grades of nervousness. He knew: sweaty fingers weren't the worst of it; this alone wouldn't disqualify anyone.

The broomsticks jumped into the hands of seven students, five boys and two girls. The other six had various problems, minor ones or serious trouble. Harry dropped them immediately from his mental list.

He watched the first flights and dropped another boy from his list. Mounting his own broomstick, he crisscrossed through the air, passing the students at some distance first, then closer, unexpectedly. He watched their reactions, dropping additional non-candidates. One of the remaining two looked promising.

He closed in on the boy, reached for his wand, pointed upward at an angle of forty-five degrees. "Globosortia."

A glittery ball shot up into the air.

Harry waited a moment while the boy's eyes followed the ball. Then, as the ball was still flying upwards, he asked calmly, "Can you catch it?"

An incredulous stare, then the boy was accelerating, his body bending forward gracefully.

Harry's gaze followed the figure, saw it change course and start a dive, as the ball would be on its way toward the ground by the time the Comet reached the intersecting position.

The ball seemed to float in the air, hiding its forward momentum from Harry's position.

At the border of his vision, Harry saw another figure approaching. He turned to look at it fully. The figure bent sideways with an arm outstretched, and the next second, though it would start to fall - only it didn't. The figure had the ball, but had to struggle to regain balance, as the broomstick was now diving steeply from the body's earlier motion. In order to avoid crashing into the boy, the figure jerked its body in an arc and regained perfect balance. Returning, the student reached him and stopped in mid-air.

I believe this is yours, sir."

Two pieces of coal looked at him, glimmering softly in a face of deep tan - or maybe it was tan on top of bronze - framed by a black mane, the same colour as Cho's, but apart from the colour totally different.

Harry took the ball. "Thank you ... Sorry, I don't remember your name."

"Rahewa Lightfoot, sir."

"What a poetic name for someone as quick as you ..."

Suddenly, Harry became aware how patronizing his words sounded, at least for someone who didn't know about Harry's overdose of Japanese culture. Desperately searching for a more ordinary remark, he said, "Rahewa - that's certainly unique for Hogwarts, isn't it?"

"Probably, sir. It's a Cree name - we're immigrants from Canada."

"Cree?"

The girl seemed to straighten more on her broomstick, if this was even possible. "Yes, one of the First Nations, sir - what you might call American Indian, or Canadian Indian."

"Oh, yes ..." Harry knew little about American Indians in general, and nothing about the Cree in particular. However, it crossed his mind that it might be better to close this gap in his knowledge through a visit in the library. And only now, he registered how this girl was addressing him all the time. He grinned, then bowed ... Was it the first time in mid-air?

"Sorry again," he said, "lost my manners for a moment - please call me Harry. Rahewa - can we talk after class?"

Her face didn't move, reminding him of pokerface Bob in its play of expression. Only in her eyes could he see the understanding appear, grow, and expand to certainty. Somewhat breathless, the girl said, "Yes - er, Harry."

A nod confirmed her determination.

As he watched her pushing forward, he sensed her joy that would have suited a Firebolt, not this old Cleansweep Seven.

* * *

Supper time arrived, then after-supper time. Cho was still sitting at the Ravenclaw table. As this had to be on purpose, Harry walked over. "May I sit down?"

A nod; Cho was seemingly not in the mood for games.

"Today I was with Viktor to have a look at the new students on broomsticks. We're forming our team."

Cho smiled incredulously. "First-years? That'd be fine for a goalie - the Quaffle will push him straight through the goalposts."

"Probably - but no need to worry. We've found a new Seeker."

She boiled up at once. "What does that mean?"

"I'm going to play Beater together with Ron. Don't worry - we'll meet. Except not as Seeker against Seeker."

"Well, well." The thought seemed to have appeal for Cho, leaving it to anybody's guess whether a tiny bit of relief was part of it ... Probably not, in Harry's own estimation.

Then she grinned. "So you have a new Seeker - the youngest in - um, six years, is it?"

"Depending on how to count: it's a she."

He saw the question on her face and the swallow in her throat; he knew it was not only because the question was beyond the limits of good taste, but also because she knew the answer was no - his taste was different, oh so different.

He said, "Her name's Rahewa Lightfoot. An immigrant, from Canada."

Almyra asked, "A Native American?"

"You mean a member of the First Nations?" Harry felt pleased at this opportunity to present his freshly gained knowledge. "Yes, a Cree."

Almyra grinned toward Cho. "She has much in common with you - same origins, same state, same team role ... Maybe also Muggle parents."

Cho glared at her.

"Same hair colour," continued Harry, "but I see big differences, too."

Cho glared at him. "Like what?"

"Compared to her, Bob was a blabbermouth. She has her temper in tight control."

It was the perfect Zen dilemma. Hitting him would only confirm Harry's remark. Harry saw that Cho knew it, and as she looked at him, saw he knew that she knew, and that she was trapped in a contradiction that could only prove true.

After a moment, Cho started to laugh.