The Eagle's Eye

Three - Odd Man Out

All of the gossip in Hogwarts surrounded the arrival of a dozen Americans at the school and how the year would turn out. Only Hermione, in the Gryffindor Tower seemed to have limited information on their presence and the 'so-called' exchange program they were part of.

She spoke to Harry and Ron first late that night in a private cubby in their dormitory.

"If either of you bothered to read up on An Appraisal of Worldwide Magical Academies, you would know that even the Americans have schools and universities dedicated to magical studies..."

"Why do all that bothersome reading when we know you've already done it?" Ron asked, yawning sleepily.

"Anyway," Hermione continued, giving Ron a sideways disapproving look, "The Americans look very poorly on any witchcraft, and most witches and wizards don't formally learn of their status until they are 16..."

"So what does that mean for us?" Harry asked diplomatically, although he was leaning toward Ron's point of view.

"Obviously a lot new wizards and witches take their 'powers' to heart and go off acting like lunatics,..." she continued, implying Ron's twin brothers with a quick scowl. "Hogwarts and a couple of other schools have agreed to implement an exchange program with the Americans... We sent 10 students of our own to the Salem's Witches Institute and The American Modern Academy of magic, including Terrence Elliot, Graham Watson, Cho Chang...." Hermione rattled on, but Harry's mind stalled when Cho's name was mentioned... a whole year an he wouldn't see her...

"So, why didn't you go, seeing you're our 'miracle student?" Ron asked.

Hermione gave him a scathing glare, as if the answer weren't obvious. "Firstly, only 7^th Year Students from our schools were selected.... And Secondly, Professor McGonagall asked me to help develop a mentor program."

Harry started, giving a thought to the evening. "Hermione, the Americans weren't sorted tonight.... Where will they be staying?" he asked remembering the special accommodations for Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs during the tri-wizard cup.

"Honestly, Harry, haven't either of you ever read Hogwart's, A History?" she seemed exasperated.

"Why should we when you have it memorized?" Ron answered.

Hermione gave an exasperated huff. "This castle has more rooms and chambers than anyone can count," she began, "Professor Law is their advisor, and doing her best at keeping them and their hijinks from distracting our study. We're supposed to be helping them, remember?"

"Anyway, she went on, they have their own dormitory and their own Prefect... Jason Duke.... You may remember him from tonight?"

Harry's mind flickered back to the banquet and the brash arrival of the Americans. Now he knew that Jason must have been the one who spoke. His mind began to wander, thinking he certainly wouldn't mind Professor Law being the head of his house...

Just as quickly as the conversation had begun, the three friends were headed off to bed, preparing for the first day of school.

...

It was a chilly morning as the Gryffindors filed out toward the great hall to breakfast. Harry, as usual was scanning the skies for any owl-post with a letter from Sirius.

"Oy, Ron," prodded their friend Dean, "Isn't that your weeny owl?" he asked pointing to the far southern sky.

Harry and Ron both squinted, and indeed Ron's mini-owl Pigwidgeon was flying erratically toward them. At Last! Harry's heart leapt, and in an instant was mortified as the little fluffy owl was intercepted by a huge bird of prey flying at supersonic speed. In fact, the huge bird looked identical to the one they had seen on the train.

"HEY!" Rod protested fumbling for his wand. Too late. The huge bird tackled Pig in a whirlwind of feathers, and then was gone. In the next instant, Pig was fluttering and squawking in Ron's hands, unharmed.

"There's no message," Ron stated angrily, checking every feather on his owl. It may have been a silly bird, but it was indeed, his.

"Wait a sec.," Harry replied, seeing the tiniest shred of parchment under the band on the owl's leg. He and Ron carefully pulled it off, only to see blank parchment, with a half s printed on it.

Ron's eyes widened as he looked at Harry "D'ya think?"

Harry was sure of it. There had been a message from Sirius Black, but somebody didn't want him to get it. He nodded; not knowing whether to feel better or worse knowing that his godfather was alive... what kind of danger was he in?

"I'm going to get that bloody bird if it's the last thing I do," Ron swore angrily, scanning the skies for the predator. Pigwidgeon, however, was already flapping off to the owlery, obviously unharmed.

"Was that an owl Weasley? Or a mosquito?" Crooned Draco Malfoy, who was also crossing the quad with his usual gang of Slytherins.

Ron, barely had time to conjure his white-knuckled rage, before several multi-colored blurs came whizzing across the grounds, scattering Malfoy's gang, and several 2^nd year Hufflepuff girls who were walking to their right.

"Hey Ferret-Face," drawled the biggest blur, slowing to circle Malfoy as if he were standing on a low air current. Crabbe and Goyle had dived to either side and were beadily watching four other blurs who dared not stop. "Nice dress, ya Sissy," he continued, before returning to his own motley group, all of whom disappeared into the great hall.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, barely able to hold back their laughter. The accent and the swooning of the Hufflepuff girls confirmed their suspicion before Hermione appeared at their side, loaded down with half a library of books. "Gentlemen, I give you Jason Duke," she said fighting hard on deciding whether to look after them with admiration, or disapproval.

When they were all seated in the Great Hall for breakfast, the multi colored appearance of the Americans became apparent, as did their commentary earlier directed at Malfoy.

Americans, it seemed had an ill idea of uniform, although each of them wore a Blazer with an unusual crest over what seemed to be a hundred sweaters, and dark pants. From what Harry could tell, not one of them wore any academic robes or caps. Most of the boys and several of the girls did, indeed, wear baseball caps at varying degrees of bill point, or woolen skullcaps. Most of them wore sneakers on their feet and carried backpacks with various bulges. This group of witches and wizards was a bizarre contrast to the Hogwarts student body, and unlike those mismatched oddly dressed foreigners they had met at the Quidditch World Cup two years ago, this group of teenagers did not look out of fashion for what they knew of American kids.

The Slytherins, now recovered and feasting on porridge and toast, seemed to think it was hilarious that all of the "Yankee Muds" that's what they called them, seemed to be freezing, and completely ignorant as to what to do with hot tea. Not that it mattered; not one of the twelve Americans had chosen a seat at the Slytherin table, and the rest dispersed themselves amongst the other houses. Most of the girls took to the Ravenclaws, and most of the boys sat near the older Hufflepuff Girls. Only Jason Duke and one other boy sat at the Gryffindor Table, hunkered down in deep conversation with each other.

Harry was about to share his shred of parchment with Hermione, who sat on his right, who was furiously trying not to blush or look at the newcomers, when the door swept open, and a dark clad figure strode in. She was very tall and elegant but silence seemed to fall when she entered, and it followed her for some time. -Professor Law-

She stopped her stride as she reached Duke and his cohort.

"Jason Duke, and Cody Ewing," she said coldly, looking down her straight nose at them with a more severe expression than McGonagall had ever mustered, "Perhaps you have no knowledge or regard for basic etiquette," she continued, "Or you simply do not care, which may well be why you are here," she the leaned very close to Duke as she spoke again. "We do not wear hats indoors," she said, and almost instantly all of the boy's baseball caps flipped off their heads and landed neatly on their book-bags. "And," she said before she straightened, "All of your enchanted skateboards, roller blades and other means of local transportation will be confiscated until further notice..." She straightened entirely, now casting her eyes over Ron, Hermione, and then Harry. When her eyes met his, she smiled slightly, before she returned her sharp attention to Jason. "I will see you in my office after Breakfast Mr. Duke," and as soon as she appeared she was gone, sitting in her place at the teacher's table. The silence lifted just as suddenly as it had begun. Harry could hear Duke muttering something that could have been 'old witch' but he didn't think that was exactly right, because the boy she called Cody immediately kicked him hard under the table, as if their every word cold be heard. Harry didn't doubt it either. He decided to save his news for Hermione until a later time.

Their first lesson as Sixth-years was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. As far as lessons went, working with the Devil's Snare was uneventful, other than almost incessant chatter about the Americans and what they were up to. Professor Sprout merely gave up any control at the end of the hour. "Good luck to the lot of you then... should you stumble on a patch on your own!" she exclaimed before disappearing out of the darkened greenhouse. Harry grinned, for he, Ron and Hermione had up close experience with this nasty weed during their first year, and had survived... although barely.

As the class was headed back up to the castle for Charms class with Professor Flitwick, Harry could see Hagrid, the huge gamekeeper tromping out of his cabin, and then waving them over. Although Hermione protested they would be late, she joined Ron and Harry in a flat run to meet their favorite teacher and friend.

Hagrid held out his gigantic hand toward Ron extending what looked like a furry golf-ball.

"PIG!" Ron exclaimed, and the little owl fluttered to life buzzing around Ron's head like a busy gnat before perching on Hagrid's Roof.

"I 'ad me a look-see at yer wee owl Ron," Hagrid said with a wink and a grin, "I understand he' were in a bit 'o a scrape with an eagle or summ'at," he went on. At first Harry wanted to know how Hagrid knew, but thought better of it. Hogwarts teachers always knew things.

"And?" Ron asked trying not to sound as worried as he was.

"Well 'e doesn't seem the worse off 'fer it, I can tell ye," Hagrid went on. "Not a feather out of place, which is a bit odd..." he looked distantly at the little owl that had returned to his roost in the owlery.

"Why would that be odd?" Ron protested, just as protective as he was of his mangy rat, Scabbers.

Hagrid considered for a moment, then took a breath,

"If yer must know," he said pointing a beefy finger toward a high turret on the castle. "That thar is a great bird of prey see..." All three of them followed Hagrid's finger to the turret where perched a very familiar giant eagle with a snowy white head... the same they had seen on the train, and the same that had attacked Pig.

Ron made an immediate angry start for his wand, which was efficiently plucked away by Hagrid, before the boy could utter a spell. It was clear that Hagrid wanted to finish.

"A great bird of prey, .... And the most efficient hunter on the planet I might add," the giant gamekeeper looked almost admiringly at the bird who still stared at them unblinkingly... "Which means," he continued, packing Ron's wand back in his bag and shoving the three of them back toward the castle. "If that bird were huntin' fer food or such... there wouldn't be no trace o'yer li'l owl left Ron," Hagrid finished, leaving them at the castle gate, full of questions.

Hermione had a very determined look on her face; one of those looks more determined than being late for a class. It was a look like she was dying to get to the library.

...

Charms class was larger and more disorderly than usual, as Professor Flitwick had not only the Gryffindors and Slytherins to deal with, but also 12 very animated and disruptive Americans, all of whom clamored to sit near their leader Jason Duke, and face off Malfoy and his pack of goons.

They were to be working on varying degrees of impediment spells, when a thin American Boy named Cory Kraft protested along with Casey, his twin sister and another contingent of Americans, spoke.

"Why would we want to use wands?" he asked, as if offended.

"Why indeed," his sister Casey echoed, "When it's common knowledge that only fake magicians with rabbits and hats need wands..." she went on.

Harry looked around at everyone on his crowded side of the room, noticing that indeed, not one of the Americans with all their layers of clothing, smirks and outbursts had a wand in front of him.

It was a fair question, Harry thought, looking down at his own wand, knowing it had saved his life, but was he dependant on it? And it did tie him to Voldemort, which was more reason to question him having it.

"A'hem, would anyone like to explain to our American friends why we are instructed in the use of our wands?" asked tiny Professor Flitwick, who was standing atop an unsteady pile of books.

It was no surprise that Hermione's hand was instantly in the air. They were all well used to it by now. Once she was called on, it was the first time Harry could remember her answer waver, as she had the full attention of everyone in the room, and the silence of the Americans.

"Um," she began, "Well lots of things we do are tradition really," she was blushing madly, but her answer kept coming "... however, the proper use of a wand requires concentration, focus and knowledge of what one is doing..." her voice trailed off as Professor Flitwick gave her top marks and a muted muttering erupted from the Americans.

"You forgot to mention their usefulness in dueling..." Malfoy added maliciously, fingering his own wand and glaring at Jason Duke.

"Dueling?!" asked Cody Ewing, his gray eyes wide in fascination.

"You might want to try it sometime if you dare, 'Yank-Mud"

"Oh Dear," Professor Flitwick sighed shaking his head.

"I don't need a wand to duel with you, Ferret Face," Jason spat back, creating a wave of giggles from all of the Americans and the Gryffindors.

"And I would add," said Taylor Jackson, a big boy with blonde hair and a thick New York Accent, "That the New York Yankees are the finest baseball team in the history of the game.... And," he continued just as the bell went. No one moved. "Being called a Yank is a fine compliment since we Yanks kicked your collective British Ass a couple centuries ago..."

At that, several of the Americans gave each other high fives as they filed out of the room. Jason and Draco lingered for a moment, glaring at each other, but also left the room as Professor Law swept past the outside of the door.

Ron was astounded. "That was bloody brilliant!" he said, watching after Jason Duke and Cody Ewing as they disappeared down a hallway they had never noticed before.

"D'ya think we're not the only ones to know Malfoy for what he is?" Ron asked, still looking down the new hallway.

Harry only half heard him. His attention was diverted as they passed McGonagall's classroom. Professor McGonagall, the head of their house however, was not paying them any attention. Instead, she seemed focused on a tall girl in a hooded black cloak who was standing before her desk.

Only a few words echoed out of the classroom like "Test, ... passed... however," and the words stopped. McGonagall, and the girl under her hood were silent, both staring at him. Harry felt a strange sense of familiarity.

"May I help you gentlemen?" McGonagall asked sternly, moving in front of her desk, and dropping some parchments deep in it's depths.

Harry's mouth opened and then closed, and Ron was stammering at his side, but McGonagall continued toward them. "If not, I suggest you not be late to lunch," she added sternly, and just before she closed her door, separating them all. "Potter, I will be wanting a word with you later," and the door slammed shut.

Lunch was always a noisy affair. Ron was stuck between stuffing his face and trying to listen in on the conversation between Jason Duke and Cody Ewing about dueling.

Harry had little to say and little appetite. He wondered what McGonagall could want to speak to him about. Hermione, who might have known, had not joined them, and was obviously off in the library. McGonagall was seated in her usual position at the teacher's table, talking with Professor Law. And the strange, tall hooded girl he had seen earlier was seated at the very end of the Gryffindor table speaking to and looking at no one.

Why was she so familiar? Harry wondered. She was tall, with short silvery white hair, and very tan skin. She could have been one of the Americans he guessed, but she was wearing a perfectly pressed uniform, and she was not shivering in the slightest, unlike the rest of the Americans who acted as if they had been transplanted to Antarctica.

"Hey Potter," drawled a not-unfriendly voice to his left. Harry shook himself from his musings to see Jason and Cody staring directly at him. Harry looked back at them quizzically.

"Wot?" he asked more gruffly than he had intended, which the Americans seemed to find amusing. Jason was smashing bread and ham together into a sandwich with a sly grin, making Harry almost sure they were going to ask him something dueling.

"What is this Quidik business all about?" Jason asked. It was apparent that he did indeed not need a wand to disarm someone.

Four-The Gryffindor Quidditch Team

Quidditch was easily Harry's favorite subject and Ron's too, as Ron blurted out an entire history of the game as detailed as any of Hermione's essays. Harry was amazed at the length Ron went to as he babbled on and on about the sport and the house teams and the upcoming trials. The lunch hour went incredibly fast from then on, ending with Cody jabbing Ron in the ribs.

"Dude, you don't look like Potter to me," he grinned.

Jason, however, wasn't amused this time. In fact, he looked very thoughtful.

"Maybe I'll see you on the field sometime then Potter," he answered finally with a nod, rising from the table. Cody got up as well, although he was protesting more.

"Dude, you can't be serious..." Cody raced after Jason, "Riding brooms.... Are you kidding me? You know like a Halloween stunt and black cat and warty green witches and all? IS your brain frost-bitten Dude?"...

"I reckon they're all right, Harry," Ron said as they made their way to their final class of the day... Transfiguration. "You know, the Americans,... Quidditch isn't all that popular there, and I doubt they're into flying...."

Harry knew why Ron was going on and on. It was pretty much all he could talk about since their summer break... his final chance to be on a house team... to prove his skill past those of his brothers and be the new Gryffindor keeper. If it were up to Harry, he would give Ron the job. When they practiced on their own and with Ron's brothers at the Burrow, very little got past him. He would be good at the job.

Year Six Transfiguration was going to prove to be the toughest, yet most interesting year they had with Professor McGonagall. This was the year they started learning about human transfiguration. McGonagall, herself was an exceptional example, being as Hermione put it, 'one of the few Registered Animagi in the world.'

Harry had learned years ago there were always exceptions to the rule. His own father, James, and godfather Sirius Black were both animagi, although their transfiguration was not registered nor was it legal.

"There are strict repercussions for human transfiguration on one's self or another," McGonagall's voice was crisp and clear in the drafty classroom. "Can anyone tell me why?"

Hermione's hand was in it's usual place, waving high in the air, but McGonagall looked past her toward the strange, tall, white-haired girl they had seen earlier that day.

"Miss Talin?" she asked.

The girl wore the robes of a Gryffindor, but Harry did not know her. Her silvery eyes were piercing, yet her face was expressionless. Jason Duke and the other Americans in the class were all fidgeting and grinning in their seats. Someone coughed what sounded like" loser"

The girl was nonplussed. "Transformation," she spoke with a very quiet, steely voice, which was steeped with an American accent. "Can go very wrong on both ends, leaving one half-human, and half whatever else..." she continued, glaring at Jason and Cody ask if she would like to give it a try on them.

"Precisely," McGonagall replied, before heaping them all with a ton of homework.

As the class let out, she stopped Harry. "Mr. Potter, a word if you please," she said.

Ron started to stay behind with him, but the disapproving look from McGonagall seemed to change his mind for him, as he hurriedly said, "See ya,"

Once the classroom had cleared, McGonagall resumed her position behind her desk considering him for a long moment, giving Harry the feeling he had just lost the house cup single handedly.

Finally, she drew a parchment from her desk, and Harry recognized it to be a bulletin that would soon be posted.

"As you know we haven't much of a Quidditch team left after last year Mr. Potter?" She asked, suddenly sounding less stern and more fond of him.

"There are still the trials Professor," Harry said, hopefully, as if some miracle would transfigure the Gryffindor house team into the World Champions.

"Indeed," she said smiling thinly. "I expect you will be wanting to put together your team as soon as possible..."

"I," Harry started, then his eyes widened as if she had smacked him, "What?.... My..."

"Yes, as the Quidditch Captain, you will have some say as to how our side is put together..."

Harry was gulping like a fish out of water, but a wonderful feeling was overcoming him as McGonagall thrust the bulletin for trials in his hand, along with the captain's badge.

"Congratulations Mr. Potter," she smiled ushering him toward the door. "Now I'll expect you'll wanting to post this right away, and explain to Mr. Weasley that the Keeper position has already been filled."

Harry felt numbly blissful as he walked out of the classroom. He was still trying to catch up on what had just happened.

Ron pounced on him from out of nowhere. Harry knew his friend would never be too far away from the action.

Ron's eyes were round and astonished the moment he saw Harry. "Captain!" he exclaimed, "I knew it! I just knew it!... What's that?" Ron's excited tirade stopped as he saw the parchment Harry clutched with the house team trials announcement.

GRIFFYNDOR HOUSE QUIDDITCH TRIALS

Captain/ Seeker: Harry Potter

Keeper: Katerina Talin

Chaser 1: Katie Bell

Chaser 2 & 3 Open

Beaters 1&2 Open

Trials For Open Positions will Commence Immediately

Report to Madame Hooch or The Quidditch Pitch at 5pm Sept 4.

The post miraculously found its way to the bulletin board as much as Ron might have protested or wanted to rip it up.

"Honestly... who is this Talin person.... I can still protest can't I?... Harry, you know how we have worked for this...!"

Ron blustered and stalked off red-faced with determination to get his broomstick and prove to everyone he was the best choice for Keeper.

For the rest of the afternoon, Harry was crowded by people congratulating him, although Ron was conspicuously missing. Harry felt a black cloud loom over him. What good was being Captain if he had no say on who made his team? Then again, he was reminded of when he had been made Seeker for Gryffindor in his first year. He had not gone to the trials. It was almost an accident that McGonagall had witnessed him in a flying face -off with Draco Malfoy, and marched him to meet then Captain and Keeper Oliver Wood. He considered sending an owl to Wood, now a professional reserve Keeper for Scotland, asking advice, but he thought better of it, knowing he would get a boring lecture in reply, ill worth expending Hedwig's energy, when he needed her. He was still desperate to speak to Sirius.

At 5pm, Harry made his way to the Quidditch pitch, his beloved Firebolt broomstick slung over his shoulder, surprised to find a larger crowd than usual in the stands and milling about before the trials. It seemed that many of the Americans, and other Hogwarts students were interested in the outcome of the evening.

He greeted Katie Bell, the only returning member of the Gryffindor team, and scanned the grounds for perspective new players. Madame Hooch was off to the side discussing something with Katerina Talin, who clutched a battered old Stardust broomstick, which was tattier than any of the old school flying broomsticks he had ever seen. For a moment he thought Ron, who had been given a used Nimbus 2000 by Fred and George on his birthday, just might have a chance on his appeal.

At exactly 5pm Madame Hooch stepped out into the middle of the pitch with the trunk that carried the four different Quidditch balls.

"Right then, no sense dawdling... each of you wanting to try for a spot will be given the chance in turn, and by the end of the evening you shall have hopefully established a respectable side." She said, her voice echoing as if though amplified. "Since you already have a seeker, Mr. Potter, you may help in the judging. The Golden Snitch will not be released just yet."

Although Harry was disappointed in this news, he understood it. How could he see what people were doing if all he was looking for was the snitch.

"Miss Bell and Miss Talin, mount your brooms and take your positions.

Harry grinned at his old teammate. Katie Bell was a fine chaser, probably the best at the school. He knew she could give any player a good workout. Then he looked around for his second 'team-mate,' the keeper he had not yet met. Certain, that Katerina would still be on the ground, likely cursing the ineffectiveness of her broom, Harry was stunned as if he had been hit full on by a bludger when he saw her soaring over the pitch with the ease of someone on a Firebolt, or as if she needed no broom at all.

He was not the only one gaping and staring at her, as several of the Americans in the stands were pointing at her and chattering. Only Ron, who had taken his place at the head of the tryout line, was not gawping. In fact, he was scowling, and silently kicking at the ground.

Harry barely heard Madame Hooch's explanation of the process. "The reserves will have the first chance and will also serve as the opposite side...teamwork.... not an individual effort..."

The whistle blew, and a side of 6 reserves were taking their positions on the pitch, only... Ron had decided to take a position as opposite keeper, rather than to try for a Gryffindor position at all.

Harry was consumed with a flash of anger, dying to know what Ron was playing at... if he didn't try at all, how could he be selected?

As it turned out, this trial was probably the least fun Harry ever had on a Quidditch pitch.

Witch after wizard tried to keep pace with Katie Bell, unsuccessfully. Either the quaffle was dropped, or people went flying out of bounds, and Harry began to suspect hopes of winning the Quidditch Cup were grim, much less surviving the season.

The opposing Reserves, however, were brilliant. They zoomed around like blurs, passing the quaffle and beating the bludgers like they were meant for it. Even on the occasion Katie did find some potential Chasers she could work with, not a single Quaffle got past Ron on the other end.

What was more amazing still, as many times as the reserves got the quaffle and poised themselves to score on Talin, she was instantly there blocking. Not a single goal had been scored on either side, no matter how much Madame Hooch or anyone else tried to coach them.

By now it was getting dark and Harry was ready to call it quits, just as Talin pounded another quaffle just past his head, where Katie raced to catch it.

There were a couple of fair beaters on the reserve side, who were now trying for their spot on the House team. Daniel Limyrick was a 4^th year boy about the size of Crabbe and Goyle, or a small dragon, and Seth McGavin, a 5^th year was his physical opposite, but matched him in power and beating accuracy. They both were doing their best to unseat the other team. Only Ron, was unwavering on his broom and keeping his post. He was well used to being a target for the last Gryffindor Beaters, his brothers, Fred and George. There was still no score.

The air started getting colder and they could see their breath steaming like silvery fog.

Apparently Madame Hooch had enough too, because she announced that she was releasing the snitch. If either seeker caught it, the trials would be over.

Harry saw it from the moment it was released, but restrained himself from catching it just yet. If only Katerina missed a goal... if only Ron could have more time...

The reserve seeker was buzzing around like a bee, looking for the Golden Snitch. Although, he would never replace Harry on the house team, it would be quite a boast to have caught it first, when only one person had in the past 5 years.... Cedric Diggory.

Another quaffle soared at Talin, but it seemed different somehow. Katerina seemed to know it too... "Oh No you don't," she exclaimed, punching the quaffle, not back to one of the chasers, but to the stands where it had come from.

Perhaps two feet from the group of Americans, and directly in the face of Cody Ewing, the ball exploded, singeing the tips of his hair. The real quaffle was zooming back at Ron and then.... Blocked.

Suddenly Harry saw Timothy Tinsley, the reserve seeker, go into a steep dive. He had seen the snitch! Time was up!

Harry leaned forward on his Firebolt, and hurtled toward Tinsley at warp speed. The cold air was now invigorating. He easily passed Tinsley, and had recovered the snitch.

When the whistle blew, it was almost midnight, and everyone except Harry and Madame Hooch was returning to the castle. He helped her wrestle the bludgers back into the box, as she was telling him to turn in his picks by morning.

"Don't you think maybe Ron should...." He blurted as he followed the flying instructor back to the castle. "We shall see Potter, Bed Now," she demanded, reminding him to submit his list before 8 the next morning.

As Harry finally climbed into his dormitory, He found Ron on his bed fast asleep. He was still wearing his workout clothes and was clutching his broomstick with a death-grip.

Harry was barely awake when he submitted his list to Madame Hooch at 7:59 the next morning. He definitely wanted Ron to be the keeper, but he couldn't say that Katerina Talin did a bad job either.

Breakfast was another noisy affair... it seemed that Americans never shut up... well, Talin never said much, and Cody Ewing, now sporting singed patches of hair was pretty quiet.

Harry had expected Ron not to be speaking to him, but Ron was nowhere to be seen. Hermione, however, was spooning the last of her eggs onto her plate.

"Disgusting display, really," she muttered, although Harry wasn't sure who she was talking to.

"What?' he asked her?

"To think they would get away with throwing in a quadpot ball during the trials," she continued.

"What are you talking about Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Quadpot... you know the American version of Quidditch....except they use exploding quaffles and cauldrons instead..."she explained. Everything with Hermione was obvious.

But at least that explained the exploding quaffle last night...

"Why would they want to hurt one of their own classmates?" Harry asked, noticing that Cody did indeed look uncomfortable.

"I expect because..." she began, but she was interrupted.

"Kat the Brat IS NOT one of us," Jason Duke protested. "She's a freak,"

"Kat the Brat?" Harry asked,

"That would be me," explained the tall white- haired girl, coolly brushing past them, as she left the great hall.

Harry longed to follow her, to meet her, but Hermione was already urging him out toward their next class...

As they were walking, Hermione did was she was best at, explaining.

"Katerina Talin... she wasn't born in America you know, Her Mum, Luisa was British... from an old wizarding family in Sussex. She went to Hogwarts about 30 years ago, but she moved to America. No one really knows why. I expect the Americans don't like her because she's got roots here, or because she has traveled all over the world, or because..."

"She's not the friendliest sort?" Harry added, wishing he had Ron to back him up.

Hermione shrugged, "I guess she has her reasons,"

The two of them were stopped by a crowd in the hallway near the bulletin board.

Harry stood on his toes to see what everyone was gawping at.

GRIFFYNDOR HOUSE QUIDDITCH Team

Captain/ Seeker: Harry Potter

Keeper: Katerina Talin

Chaser 1: Katie Bell

Chaser 2 Ron Weasley

Chaser 3 Heidi Kauffmann

Beater 1 Daniel Lymerick

Beater 2 Seth McGavin

Congratulations to all Practices to begin 5pm Sept 6^th Game 1 vs Slytherin Nov 1, 11am.