Tangled Fates

The song "Tonight, Tonight" is by the Smashing Pumpkins, and neither the song nor the lyrics included herein are mine either.

A Note From Nappa: Because I am the person that uploads to the FAP, and because I'm incredibly lazy, the chapters take two or three extra days to be formatted to FAP standard. If you can't wait till then, join the HP_Scribbles group . or if you are a memeber then, check this directory for updates. fanfiction.net is the first place I put it up at.

Chapter Eight: Tonight, Tonight

Time is never time at all
You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth
And our lives are forever changed
We will never be the same
The more you change the less you feel
Believe, believe in me, believe
That life can change, that you're not stuck in vain
We're not the same, we're different tonight

-Smashing Pumpkins

Dusk was sweeping across the land, and with it, the crickets brought their daily salvo of sound, creating the nighttime sonata that marked an early fall twilight. It had been a beautiful day, and that beautiful day had merged into a beautiful night.

The air was crisp and clear and it was nothing short of invigorating to dance across the sky in the tango known as flight.

Harry Potter scanned the lush greenness of the Quidditch pitch, ever-searching for the elusive Golden Snitch. There were only two weeks left before the first match of the season, and Terry Boot had been running the Ravenclaw team ragged—scheduling practices at all hours, making sure that his team would be absolutely ready for it, Harry especially, this being his first year.

Privately, Harry didn’t think that Boot had anything to worry about—even to his untrained eye, the Ravenclaw team looked fabulous. They moved more as a collective unit rather than seven separate entities, and even Harry himself was coming along quite well.

Suddenly—there it was—the Golden Snitch, hovering unobtrusively inches from the grass. Without a second thought, Harry pointed his broom downward and dived. He darted past Maggie Thomas, a fourth year Chaser, causing her to scream and drop the Quaffle as he buzzed by. He fell closer and closer to the earth as the other players stopped the action above to watch with bated breath.

Inches from the ground, he pulled out into a graceful parabola, the Snitch fluttering harmlessly in his grasp.

Boot grinned widely as he soared towards the ground. "Smashing! Okay team, I’m calling it! Time to turn in!"

The rest of the Ravenclaws landed nearby, cheeks pink from the wind.

"That was a great catch, Harry." Maggie Thomas said, smiling sweetly.

"Amazing!" Katie Brodie, the other sixth year Chaser chimed.

Harry blushed slightly. "Thanks."

"Ooh, Harry! You’re simply spiffing! Can I get your autograph?" Cho whispered softly into Harry’s ear as she approached, laughing, from her place in the stands.

Harry swatted at her, "shut it, you!"

"Right then!" Boot interrupted. "Excellent practice, everyone! Now, go and get some rest—I want everyone in tip top shape for the match!"

The team dispersed then, leaving Harry and Cho alone on the pitch.

"It’s really lovely out, isn’t it?" Cho remarked, staring up at the nighttime sky.

Harry followed her gaze, nodding his assent.

Cho lay down on the grass and patted the space beside her. "Sit by me for a while." Harry lay down, his neck being tickled by the grass, and closed his eyes, breathing the sweet-smelling air in deeply.

"Isn’t it amazing how big the sky is?" Cho asked quietly. "How very many stars there are and how very little we are?"

"Overwhelming, to say the least."

"I heard a story once that the stars are really just the souls of the people we’ve lost. They shine down on us every night, never leaving, always constant." She paused, a solitary tear slipping down her cheek. "Do you think he’s up there, Harry?"

Harry rolled on his side, propping himself up on an elbow to look at her. "Who? Cedric? I’m certain of it. He’s probably watching you now and thinking how proud he is at how strong you are through everything."

Cho smiled, looking sideways at him. "No, he’s probably laughing at how broken up I’ve been. I can just hear him, ‘What’re you doing, Cho? I’m gone! Move on, already!’" She laughed in spite of herself. "He was never really much for huge sentimental shows of emotion, but when it came down to it, he was just as mushy as the rest of us. Probably hated the memorial service we had for him—all his friends saying what a great guy he was and everything. Probably thinks we’re all crazy for letting it get to us so much."

Harry shook his head, laughing. "Sounds like he was an interesting guy."

"You remind me a lot of him, Harry. Always could make me laugh or smile, always knew just what to say to cheer me up. And he was just so good; do you know what I mean? So noble, always knew what the right thing to do was, and then he just went out and did it. Never really thought of himself much, ever."

"You two were lucky to have each other."

Cho grinned. "He was so sweet to me! Do you know how he finally told me that he was interested in me? He wrapped all these boxes and sent them over to my house for my birthday. So I’m sitting at the kitchen table and like, five owls flap though the window struggling with this enormous package. Naturally, I’m dying to see what’s in it, so I rip off the wrapping paper and there’s another wrapped box—and another, and another and another! Finally, I get down to the last one and it’s really thin and small. I open it and there’s a picture of Cedric with ‘what do you think? Can I be your present?’ scrawled on it!" She smiled at the memory. "Obviously, I said yes."

Harry was laughing. "What a present."

And the two lay there, Harry listening and letting Cho remember Cedric for himself , not for what happened to him, for the first time in a long while.

"Ooh, Harry! Look at this!" Hermione whispered, beckoning her over to his side of the table. "I think I found something good."

"Let me see—" Harry muttered, leaning over Hermione’s shoulder. "The Power Transfer curse (transferus permatus) can be cast basically by anyone, although one wonders why someone would want to willingly transfer his or her power to another—blah, blah, blah—however, there is an obscure reference to a medieval wizard named Sartre who, when pushed to the brink of death by Auroris (the founder of what is known today as the Auror’s Guild) attempted to transfer his life-force into Auroris’s body. Auroris then went on a rampage, killing things left and right in the name of Sartre before he was finally exorcised by Godric Gryffindor himself. Auroris was deeply traumatized by this incident and then devoted the rest of his life to the eradication of the Dark Arts."

"The most frightening thing about this incident is the fact that Auroris, a notably powerful wizard, was simply unable to throw off Sartre’s influence. ‘I felt a cold mist invade my body, blanketing my senses and judgment. The villain’s voice was inside my head, whispering nonstop about how I was powerless to defeat him.’ Auroris remarked in his one public statement about the incident. ‘All I could do was sit and watch as he controlled my body, forcing me to do unthinkable things to countless people.’ At this point, Auroris was overcome by emotion and forced to leave, but his comments sparked many a debate about the effects and consequences of the Power Transfer curse if it were to fall into the hands of a dark wizard. As evidenced above, this spell can, in the end, cause more harm than good and could possibly be a huge detriment to the wizarding world as a whole. It is the conclusion of this committee to completely remove any trace of this curse from the records, especially considering the current political climate. Signed, Locklier, Gates, Moody, Fletcher, and Thomas, Ministry of Magic, 1970."

"This is it, Harry! The curse that McGonagall and Lupin are looking for! Why would they want such an obviously illegal spell, though?

Harry looked thoughtful. "Maybe somebody used it on somebody else—" He broke off, his eyes widening in understanding.

This was it—the reason for his dreams, the reason for his ambidexterity, the reason for everything. Voldemort had cast the Killing Curse at him that night, but when it rebounded back at him (Harry guessed this had something to do with his ancestry and his mother’s sacrifice.), it had hit him hard. Weakened, Voldemort must have transferred what was left of his life-essence into his small body, using him as a vessel for his continued existence, thinking he would either come back and reclaim his power once he had been restored to a body, or simply coerce him into being his apprentice. Needless to say, Harry didn’t much like either of these choices.

Hermione looked alarmed. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry snapped out of his reverie. "What? Oh, nothing. We better go to McGonagall with this though." Then he smiled, wrapping her in a hug. "Excellent work, Hermione!"

She shrieked with joy, throwing her arms around Harry’s neck in return. "I can’t believe we found it!"

"Hermione! Guess what?" a voice drifted over the stacks, followed shortly by a tall, red haired boy. He stopped at the sight of Harry and Hermione, who broke apart quickly.

"Ron! What are you doing here?!" Hermione cried, visibly surprised.

"Oh, I’m sorry," he said, a scowl etched on his features, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "I should have realized that you were busy with your boyfriend, Hermione. Oh, wait—that’s me!"

"That’s not fair, Ron."

"Not fair! What are you doing here with him anyway?"

"Calm down, Weasley," Harry butted in. "McGonagall assigned us this joint project and we’d just made a huge breakthrough. That’s all."

"That still doesn’t give you any right to be all over my girlfriend!"

"He was not all over me, Ron! It was just a hug! Harry’s my friend."

"Oh, Harry’s your friend, is he?" Ron yelled, drawing quite a few glances their way.

"Yes, Ron, he is my friend. Don’t you trust me at all? I thought we had a better relationship than this!" Hermione had crossed her arms over her chest and was looking pretty miffed.

"You’re making me out to be the bad guy here?" Ron yelled, disbelief apparent in his voice. "After what I just saw?"

"I am going to have to ask the three of you to leave if you cannot control your voices!" Madame Pinch had just stormed over to Harry, Hermione, and Ron, hands on her hips and looking as if she had never seen anything so shocking before in her life.

"Yeah, well, we were just leaving, weren’t we, Harry?" Hermione said sweetly, glaring at Ron and grabbing Harry’s arm, dragging him out of the library behind her.

Once safely outside the library, Hermione sank against the wall and slid to the floor. "I’m so sorry about that, Harry. Ron can be such an insensitive git sometimes." She whispered.

"It’s okay. It was probably my fault, anyway. I shouldn’t have hugged you like that."

"It was not your fault, Harry! We weren’t doing anything wrong and Ron is just a jealous prat!"

"Really nice, Hermione. Talking about me when I’m not even here to defend myself." Ron had burst out of the library just in time to hear Hermione’s last comment.

Twin spots of fury blazed color onto Hermione’s face. "You are a jealous little prat, Ron! I’m so embarrassed at the scene you caused—I don’t know how I can show my face in the library again!"

"Well, as long as lover boy here is with you, I’m sure you shouldn’t have any problem!" Ron snapped back.

"Hey!" Harry said lamely, visibly affronted. "What’s the matter with you, Weasley? We didn’t do anything, okay?"

"I don’t actually recall speaking to you, Dursley. Sod off." He glared fiercely at Harry, grabbing Hermione’s wrist and pulling her off down the corridor. "Come on. We’ll finish this in the common room."

"You’re hurting me!" Hermione cried, wrenching her wrist free from Ron’s grasp.

Ron turned quickly, staring at her. Hermione didn’t break her gaze, all the while rubbing her bruised wrist.

"Hermione." He said through clenched teeth. "Stop being stupid!"

"She said she didn’t want to go, Weasley." Harry said, coming to stand next to Hermione. "I suggest you leave."

"This doesn’t have anything to do with you, okay? This is between my girlfriend and me, so for God’s sake, sod off!" Ron punctuated this last statement with a hard shove into the wall.

The smooth marble wall shook as Harry hit it. Enraged, he flew at Ron, pinning him against the opposite wall with his forearm pressed fiercely against Ron’s throat.

"Don’t mess with me, Weasley." Harry said in a cold, low voice. Adrenaline was pumping furiously though his veins. He could barely see through the cloud of anger that was overcoming his senses. "She’s my friend, and that’s all. I don’t appreciate seeing a wanker like you push her around, and I swear, if you ever hurt her again, I’ll do more than just throw you against a wall, you got it?"

Ron nodded meekly, fear apparent in his eyes. He was looking at Harry strangely, but Harry didn’t notice.

"You all right, Hermione?" Harry asked. She was standing as though lost in the center of the hallway, staring blankly at Harry.

"Yes, I’m fine." She whispered. "Thank you for sticking up for me, Harry."

"Don’t let him push you around anymore, all right?"

"I won’t. Ron and I are overdue for a long chat, anyway."

"Good luck, then. I’ll go to McGonagall now and tell her what we found."

"Fine. See you later."

With a small smile, Harry strode off down the corridor, leaving an extremely confused couple behind him.

Ron looked at Hermione, his face pale and his eyes wide, all thoughts of the argument forgotten. "Did you see his eyes?" he asked.

She nodded.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I don’t know, Ron, but I’m guessing there’s more to Harry than we thought." She said quietly, looking off towards where Harry had disappeared.

Harry knocked smartly on Minerva’s door, calling, "Are you there? It’s Harry."

The thick oak door swung open and the Headmistress stood on the other side, smiling at Harry as he entered the room. He took his usual seat in the plushy chair across from Minerva’s desk.

"And to what do I owe the honor of this visit, Harry?" Minerva asked, seating herself behind her desk.

"Really good news—Hermione and I found a spell and I’m pretty sure it’s what we’ve been looking for."

Minerva leaned forward, plainly interested in what Harry had to say.

"It’s called the Power Transfer curse, not really very imaginative, but it transfers one wizard’s power to another. I’ve been thinking about it and this has to be what Voldemort did to me. Maybe he thought he could just come back and collect it once he was good and ready, I don’t know. But part of him is in me, I’m sure of it. It’s causing my dreams—even the Sorting Hat knew it was there!"

Minerva absently rubbed her forehead, contemplating the veritable Pandora’s Box they could have just opened with this new source of information. "Is there any way to reverse it—I mean, any way to expel his, whatever it is inside you?"

"In this Ministry report that we found, it said that Godric Gryffindor exorcised the remains of the Dark Wizard Sartre from Auroris, so maybe we could try something like that."

"Gryffindor?" Minerva paused. "I don’t know. If we try something like that and something goes wrong, we could perhaps unwittingly activate this thing inside you and start something really bad. Exorcisms are pretty shady business—takes a lot of power to do it. I don’t want to risk anything happening to you, Harry."

"Isn’t there anything we can do, then?"

"I don’t know. I must ask you and Miss Granger to keep searching and I myself am heading down to the Ministry building this very weekend to look in the Ministry files for anything we could use. We’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t worry."

Harry nodded. "What I don’t understand is why this is all happening now? I mean, how come I didn’t get any of these dreams while I was in New Zealand?"

"I can only guess that it must have had something to do with your re-admittance to the wizarding community. You must have triggered some sort of repressed memory by coming back here."

"Great."

Harry and Minerva sat in silence, both lost in their respective thoughts before Minerva broke the stillness, obviously quite anxious to change the topic of conversation. "Oh, I meant to tell you, Harry. You’ll be sitting for your O.W.L.s this Saturday. I’ve been getting reports from your professors and you’re really too far advanced for fifth year curriculum. Professor Snape, in particular, was most displeased at how you managed to ace his first test—the only student with perfect marks, I might add."

"The O.W.L.s—this Saturday?" Harry asked.

"Right. I don’t think you’ll have too much trouble with them. Just read over your notes and you should be fine."

"Are you sure? I mean, it’s already Wednesday."

"Harry, when I tell you that you’ll be fine, I mean it. I wouldn’t let you take them if I didn’t think you would pass them."

Harry shook his head, "all right."

"Splendid. Now, is there anything else?"

"Actually, I was just in a fight with Ron Weasley—"

"What?" Minerva interjected.

"But that’s not the point. Anyway, I was really hacked off because Weasley was being a royal prat and he shoved me against the wall, so I pushed him back and I felt something, Minerva, like I was changing and I really think that I was going to transform into some sort of big, scary animal right there. I got out as fast as I could, and I don’t think Weasley or Hermione noticed, but it freaked me out, Minerva. What if I lose control completely and ‘poof!’ I’m a lion hell-bent on eating someone who may or may not be one of my professors?!"

"I don’t know what to tell you, Harry, except that basically, you cannot lose control of your emotions at all. You simply cannot let yourself be in any type of situation that could cause you to lose control. I know it’s a pretty big thing to ask, but you have to do it. Otherwise, something really bad could happen, and no one wants to see you expelled for mauling someone."

Harry nodded. "I get it. I’ll do my best."

"I know you will, Harry. I trust you."

"Thanks, Minerva. I better go now, though. Quidditch practice is in half an hour and I have to change. See you."

"Good bye, Harry."

As Harry left the office, Minerva found herself faced with a barrage of questions she had no answer to-- questions she didn’t think she’d ever have an answer for. It was hard, being in a position of power and respect, with the needs of hundreds of children resting on your shoulders, knowing that although their blind faith was reassuring, in the long run, you were just as clueless as the rest of them.

An unfamiliar owl delivered Cho her copy of the Daily Prophet the next morning at breakfast. Cho unfolded it eagerly, scanning the contents before letting out a shriek of laughter.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously, trying to read over Cho’s convulsing shoulders.

She handed the paper over to him, laughing. "Check it out! Ron Weasley’s on the front page!"

Harry took the paper with a scowl. Weasley really wasn’t one of his favorite people right now. But when he saw the article, he had to laugh. There, under a colorful headline reading, "The Minister’s Family—A Day in the Life" was a full-color photograph of Ron struggling with a battered looking rat. The photographic-Ron was looking particularly surly, wrestling the rat into his hands, as Ginny Weasley’s photographic-self laughed in the background.

"The new Minister’s two youngest children, Ronald and Virginia with the family’s pet rat, Scabbers." Harry read the caption aloud.

"Nice picture, Weasley!" someone from the Slytherin table yelled across the hall. The Slytherins (and a quite a few others) dissolved into giggles. Weasley’s ears were bright red. Harry ducked his head as Hermione glared at the hall before leading Ron outside.

The laughter subsided as Ron left.

"Harry, look! You’re in the paper, too!" Cho whispered fiercely, gesturing to an article further down the page.

Sure enough, next to an article about Minister Weasley’s trip to Azkaban later that day, was a commentary on whether or not Harry Potter was actually in England or not. Next to it was the now familiar picture of the back of Harry’s foot.

"Vultures, the lot of them." Harry whispered back, folding up the paper and effectively finishing that conversation thread.

Just then, an owl bearing a Ministry insignia fluttered down to where Cho sat, dropping a letter into her lap.

"You’re certainly popular today, aren’t you, Cho?" Harry joked as she opened her letter. She unfolded the thick parchment and two tickets fell out onto her lap. She picked them up, looked at them for a second, and then, with a huge smile, read over her letter.

"Harry, guess what?" Cho crowed, looking back and forth between her letter and the tickets.

"What?"

"Aunt Molly gave me two tickets to the Inauguration Ball for Uncle Arthur! She says I can bring a friend and she’s arranged so we can ride to the ball in Ron and Ginny’s Ministry car!" She paused, looking at him intensely. "You’ll come with me, won’t you?"

Shocked, Harry replied. "Me? You want me to go with you?"

Cho laughed. "Of course, stupid. You’re pretty much my best friend around here and I kind of like having you around. You will go, won’t you?"

"Of course!" He answered quickly. "But Cho—" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"What?"

"What am I supposed to wear?"

Cho broke out in loud peals of laughter that echoed around the hall, drawing a few curious looks their way. Harry flushed bright red.

"Keep it down, Cho!" he spat.

Cho calmed down enough to talk. "Sorry, Harry—but really! ‘What am I supposed to wear?’ You sound like a thirteen-year-old girl! Dress robes, you nit!"

"I don’t think I have any of them." Harry replied, scowling at her.

"Okay, then. We’ll have to nip down to Hogsmeade and go pick some up at Gladrags. Come to think of it, I could use some new robes as well. We’ll go Saturday."

"Can’t. I have to take my O.W.L.s, of all things."

"What? You’re taking your O.W.L.s now?"

"Yeah. I’m to move up to sixth year, and I have to pass my O.W.L.s. McGonagall doesn’t think that they’ll be too difficult for me."

"Well. All right. Good luck then, I guess. Do you want to go after your O.W.L.s? The ball is next Saturday, so we don’t really have that much time."

"The day of the Quidditch match?"

"Yeah, but it’ll be over hours before the ball. Ooh. Riding in the car with Ron isn’t going to be too pleasant, especially after we decimate Gryffindor in the Quidditch match."

Harry laughed. "I can’t wait."

The rest of the week was remarkably uneventful, if you didn’t count the way that Ginny Weasley almost jumped out of her skin every time Harry looked at her, or the way that Hermione barely acknowledged his presence when they passed in the hall.

Harry wasn’t quite sure why Hermione and Ginny were acting so strangely, but he would be willing to bet that it had something to do with Ron Weasley.

Ever since The Incident, as Harry had taken to calling it in his mind, Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors had been noticeably cool to him. Harry could only guess that Ron was still hacked off that Harry had roughed him up a bit.

Terry Boot had noticed this as well, and had been very concerned that perhaps the Gryffindors had found out about Harry’s new position on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Embarrassingly enough, Boot had been going out of his way to insure that Harry was always surrounded by a gaggle of Ravenclaws at all times. He claimed that this was for his "protection" but good reason or no, it was beginning to get quite irritating, especially when, attempting to study for his fast-approaching O.W.L.s, he had to break through the steadfast ranks of the fifth year girls in order to reach the library.

Thankfully, Saturday arrived and Harry reported to the History of Magic classroom bright and early. He was met there by McGonagall and the ghost of Professor Binns, who wordlessly handed him a thick sheaf of parchment as he walked through the door.

Minerva was friendlier. "Good luck, Harry." She said with a smile as he took his seat.

The next two hours of Harry’s life were spent recalling the obscure names of Goblin rebellion leaders and various peace treaties, scrawling them haphazardly on the parchment, and hoping for the best. He was quite happy with his performance though, guessing that he really only messed up once or twice.

The next test was Potions, for which Harry was forced to make the long trek to the dungeons. The exam itself wasn’t really that difficult, however, for Gudgeon only asked him to brew a Glorifying Draught and what really amounted to a magical crop fertilizer. Gudgeon smiled and winked him before he left; leaving Harry feeling very reassured that he had just passed his second exam.

Afterward was Charms, where tiny Professor Flitwick gave him a long written exam on charm theory and then a very exhausting round of practical exams in which Harry was made to perform a series of charms in rapid succession on an extremely bedraggled looking porcupine.

Transfiguration with Professor Lupin was quite entertaining because Lupin’s exam consisted solving a variety of logic puzzles that all added up to something Harry had to transfigure in order to pass. Lupin grinned as he finished, saying, "You did as good as your father would have, I can give you no better compliment."

Divination and Herbology was a breeze, along with Care of Magical Creatures. However, the day was growing long, and by the time Harry was to go for his last exam, he was feeling very drained, indeed.

Imagine his glee when he swung open the door and there, wearing look of utmost revulsion, was Professor Snape.

"Here, Potter." Snape said, handing him an extremely thick test booklet, before widening his eyes, exclaiming, with an unnecessary amount of sarcasm, "whoops! I slipped!"

Harry glared at Snape as he took his seat.

The test was brutal: page after page of in-depth essay questions about arcane magical knowledge, all the while having Snape hovering about, commenting on everything Harry wrote.

Three hours later, Harry finally threw down his quill with relish, shoved his test at Snape, and marched out.

He met Cho, who was waiting for him on the couch in the common room. She smiled and stood as he entered the room, and walked over to where he stood.

"Hey! You look exhausted! Let’s go." Cho said, as she looked him over.

Harry smiled weakly. "Let me just nip up and grab my money, okay?"

"Sure."

Harry dashed up the staircase and into his dorm. Rifling though his trunk, he quickly found the dragonhide bag that held his money and opened it up, smiling at the load of money that it held.

Throwing on a clean set of robes, Harry grabbed his cloak and moneybag and hurtled back down the stairs to where Cho was waiting. All right, let’s go."

Cho and Harry exited the common room, Harry leading the way towards the great hall when suddenly Cho pulled him back.

Smiling widely, she motioned him to follow her down the Charms corridor. "We can’t just walk out the front door, Harry. We’re not allowed. Follow me, okay?" she whispered.

Harry nodded, following close behind her. She stopped in front of a statue of a humpbacked witch. Looking furtively around her, she drew her wand and tapped the witch’s hump, whispering "dissendium!"

To Harry’s amazement, the hump opened up, revealing a long, underground pathway. Cho climbed in and Harry followed. They both lit their wands as the passageway closed, leaving them in darkness.

"How did you know about that, Cho?" Harry asked incredulously as they walked along the twisting corridor.

"Fred and George showed it to me last year." She said. "They had this fab map that showed them all the ways out of Hogwarts, but Professor Lupin confiscated it last year. Shame really."

"Lupin took it away? Doesn’t really seem like him. Where does this take us, anyway?"

"It leads to this trapdoor underneath the floor in Honeydukes’ basement. We can get to Gladrags from there."

The rest of the trip was basically silent as they made their way into Hogsmeade. Getting out of Honeydukes was kind of sticky, but they (thankfully) managed it quite nicely. Cho hurried them through the streets, directing them to Gladrags.

A little bell rang as they pushed open the door, and a plump little witch bustled out to greet them.

"Hello, welcome to Gladrags. My name is Glenda. What can I do for you this fine evening?"

"Hi! We both need some new dress robes." Cho said.

"For what occasion, may I ask?"

"We’re going to the Minister’s Inauguration Ball."

"Oh!" Glenda’s face brightened. "Right this way then."

Harry was seated and told to wait while Cho was fitted. A few minutes later, Cho came out wearing stunning silver-gray robes that clung in all the right places. She looked spectacular.

"What do you think?" Cho asked, spinning around.

"You look beautiful, Cho." Harry said, gaping at her.

"Thank you, Harry." Cho blushed. "I guess I’ll take these then." She said, looking quite pleased.

"You do look lovely, young lady. Great choice." Glenda said, smiling at Cho. "Just go and get changed and I’ll wrap them up for you after we fit this young man here. If you’ll follow me?" she said, motioning to Harry.

Harry got up, following Glenda into the surprisingly luxurious back room. "Hop up there, dear, and we’ll measure you up, okay?"

Harry obediently stood on the hassock, watching with ill-disguised amusement as a shiny tape measure flitted about his person, calling out measurements in a squeaky voice.

The tape measure clattered to the floor and Glenda bustled over. "That’s you done, love. I’ve got your size, we just need colors and such." She looked at Harry expectantly.

"Er—" Harry said eloquently.

Glenda looked him, over, sizing him up. "May I make a recommendation, Mr.--?"

"Dursley," Harry supplied. "And of course."

"Certainly, Mr. Dursley. May I recommend these?" She pulled out a long set of bottle green robes. "They’ll bring out your eyes, dear."

"Oh, um, I suppose so." Harry said, never really one for fashion sense. "Can I try them on?"

"Of course, dear. Right through here." She led Harry to a dressing room where he quickly threw the robes on.

"Cho?" he called, stepping out from his little cubicle. "Do these look all right?"

Cho walked into the room, followed shortly followed by Glenda. Both stopped at the sight of Harry. "You better keep him close, love." Glenda whispered to Cho.

Cho blushed. "You should definitely get those, Harry." She said lightly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "They’re okay, then?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, then." Harry redressed quickly, handing his new robes over to Glenda for her to ring up. Clutching their new parcels, Cho and Harry went out into the night and quickly returned to Hogwarts via the secret passage.

By Friday evening, it seemed as though a small flock of butterflies had taken up permanent residence inside Harry’s stomach. The first match of the season was only a very few short hours away, and needless to say, Harry was quite nervous.

He sat around the fire in the common room, receiving well wishes from all corners of the room. Will sat beside him, giving him last minute "tips" ("Basically, Harry, you had just better catch the Snitch, because I’ve got ten Galleons riding on you!") that he supposed were meant to cheer him up, but were only serving to increase his feeling of impending doom.

It was a great relief then when at half-past ten Boot stood and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

Harry stood, following his teammates up the staircases to their respective dormitories. "Sleep well, Harry!" Cho called with a smile. Harry nodded weakly in reply.

That night, while thankfully not visited by any intensely creepy dreams involving one Lord Voldemort, Harry slept fitfully. He was instead having dreams about the following day’s Quidditch match. It was terrible—Ravenclaw was playing superbly, but as Ron Weasley jubilantly sped across the pitch and grabbed it from right underneath Harry’s nose, the entire crowd turned on him. "You’re nobody, Harry Potter! You’ll never be good enough!"

Harry sat up with a start, breathing heavily. "Jesus, Potter!" he thought angrily. "You’ve been in this situation, how many times? It’s just another game! You’ll do fine."

Reassuring himself, he drifted off to sleep, hopefully, for the last time that night.

The morning dawned clear and bright and Harry was awoken by a gentle sunbeam streaming through his window and illuminating his face. Steeling himself for the day, he swung out of bed, threw on yesterday’s robes over top a pair of gray St. Gabriel’s Basketball sweatpants and a white t-shirt from the state championships and headed down to breakfast.

Cho was already seated, saving him a place beside her. "Morning, Harry!" she said, swallowing a swig of orange juice. "You ready for today?"

Harry nodded. "I’m a little nervous, but it’ll pass."

"You’ve got nothing to be nervous about!" Cho smiled. "I’ve seen you fly. You’ll be great—trust me."

Harry grinned back, his confidence building. "Thanks, Cho." With that, he grabbed a stack of pancakes and dug in, properly hungry for the first time in days.

As one, and as if they meant to do it all along, the Ravenclaw team stood and exited the hall among the morning bustle. They returned to the common room, collected their gear, and trooped outside to the locker rooms.

Harry dressed quietly, throwing his blue team robes over a pair of gray St. Gabriel’s Basketball sweatpants and a white district championships t-shirt. The team sat in silence, each member preparing for the impending match in their own way. Harry watched anxiously as Boot paced nervously across the locker room floor, his feet tromping out a heavy rhythm that, believe it or not, helped to pass the time.

Boot stopped his manic pacing as the sounds of the crowd grew louder and louder above them. Suddenly, a whistle blast pierced the overwhelming silence. Resolutely, the team stood. It was time.

Boot led his squad to the doors that opened up onto the field. "This is it. We’re ready, I know it—now let’s kick some Gryffindor arse!"

Boot’s suggestion was met with mighty roars of approval. The sound echoed off the walls, filling the room with their exuberance.

Through the wall of noise, a familiar magnified voice could be heard—"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Hogwarts’ first match of the season, pitting our very own Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor!"

The crowd roared.

"Now—introducing the Gryffindors! Leading the way, captain and seeker, Ron Weasley! Followed by the intrepid chasers—Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Colin Creevey! The unbeatable beaters—Graham Pritchard and Natalie McDonald! Finally, the newest member of the team, the keeper, Ginny Weasley!"

As Harry peered out of the doorway, he saw a parade of scarlet blurs whipping around the pitch. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in order to calm his nerves.

"And now—the team I know I’ve been waiting for—the defending champions—Ravenclaw!"

The crowd’s approval rose in an ear-splitting crescendo.

"Leading his team today is the captain and chaser, Terry Boot!" Boot smiled at his team, whispered, "good luck!" and zoomed out.

Harry and the rest of the team watched warily as Boot took a lap around the field, before flying over to the commentator—Cho! Harry noted with surprise—and handed her a slip of parchment.

"I have just been given the Ravenclaw lineup, so without further adieu, I present to you, Boot’s fellow Chasers, Maggie Thomas and Katie Brodie!" Maggie and Katie smiled at Harry and burst out onto the field to loud cheers. "Followed by the Beaters, Steve Pratt and Charlie Jackson" Steve and Charlie hit their Beaters clubs together and flew out to face the cheering crowd. Only Harry and Anna Valero, the Keeper were left in the locker room.

"Good luck, Anna." Harry said, smiling at her.

Anna blushed. "Thanks, Harry. You too!"

Cho’s voice pierced the silence again. "…and now the Keeper, Anna Valero!" Anna winked and flew out to join the rest of the team.

Harry stood alone, nervously running his hands through his hair. "Calm down, Potter." He muttered.

"And last, but not least," Cho’s voice continued, "playing in his very first Quidditch game ever, the new Ravenclaw Seeker—Harry Dursley!"

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off, soaring out over the stands. As soon as he took flight, Harry was amazed to find, all his worries left him.

Grinning, Harry flew over to his team and took his place for the beginning of the match. Harry noticed Ron Weasley, hovering opposite from him, wasn’t looking too pleased to see him.

"And here comes Madame Hooch, ready to begin the first match of the season!" Cho’s voice cried.

Madame Hooch placed a wooden trunk on the ground and opened it up, freeing the Golden Snitch and the Bludgers. The Snitch flitted in front of Harry’s face for a moment before zooming away. Hooch picked up the Quaffle, standing between the two captains.

"I want a clean game from both teams, all right? Captains, shake hands." Hooch commanded.

Boot and Weasley both extended a hand, grasping the others for the briefest of seconds.

Hooch blew once on her whistle and threw the Quaffle high in the air. Katie raced across, grabbing the Quaffle and flying swiftly towards the Gryffindor goalposts.

"And Chaser Katie Brodie of Ravenclaw takes the Quaffle—nice Bludger work by Beater Jackson of Ravenclaw to clear Katie’s way. Brodie passes to Boot, back to Brodie—she shoots, she scores! 10-zip Ravenclaw!"

Katie punched the air as she flew through the cheers of the Ravenclaw supporters. Harry cheered silently from his place high above the pitch. He noticed Weasley floating behind him, watching him with an indiscernible look on his face.

"Well, hello to you, too, Weasley." Harry called.

Weasley scowled. "Prepare to be humiliated, Dursley." He growled.

Harry laughed. "I wouldn’t be too cocky if I were you, Weasley."

Weasley rolled his eyes.

"Besides, we’re up thirty-nothing." Harry remarked, gesturing towards the Gryffindor goals where Boot was firing the Quaffle through the left goal post, just out of Ginny Weasley’s reach.

Ron swore, swooping down towards his sister, screaming something unintelligible.

Harry grinned as he returned to searching for the Snitch.

"And the pass goes to Dean Thomas, back now to Finnigan, over to Creevey! He shoots—and I don’t believe it! An amazing save by Ravenclaw Keeper Valero!"

Anna smiled, throwing the Quaffle over to Maggie, who bolted up field.

Boot flew by Harry, calling "why don’t you try a feint or something, Dursley!" before hurrying away to help Maggie and Katie.

Enthused with the idea, Harry flew over to Weasley, making sure he got his attention before pointing his broom handle straight down to random spot on the grass.

"And Dursley goes into a spectacular dive, Weasley following close behind! Obviously, the Snitch must be nearby! They’re getting awfully close to the ground—what’s Dursley doing? He’s pulling out! It’s a feint! Weasley trying frantically to stop and –ooh! That’s gotta hurt!"

The crowd winced as Ron smashed into the ground. Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse, ran out onto the field to examine Weasley as he lay in a heap on the grass.

Harry felt a momentary pang of guilt as he watched Weasley lie beneath him. But this was Quidditch—and that was how you played the game. Shaking his head, he flew up again, using the time Weasley was on the ground to search for the Snitch.

Boot flew over, grinning. "Great feint, Harry! Viktor Krum couldn’t have done it better!"

Harry smiled in return, eyes still scanning the pitch.

"And after a terrific Wronski Feint by the Ravenclaw Seeker, Gryffindor Seeker, Ron Weasley appears to be quite incapacitated." Cho’s voice kept up the commentary. "Madame Pomfrey out to look and yes, Weasley’s getting up! A round of applause for Ron Weasley!"

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and play resumed.

Harry flew by Weasley, who was looking rather dazed still.

Gryffindor scored a couple times, evening the score at forty-all. The game was growing long, with still no sign of the Snitch.

The Ravenclaw chasers began to turn it on, scoring three times in rapid succession. The Ravenclaws in the stands were going crazy, cheering on their team.

"Boot passes to Brodie, back to Boot, to Maggie Thomas, over to Brodie! Watch that Bludger, Mags! Ginny Weasley flying out to intercept—a quick pass to Boot—he scores! Eighty-Forty, Ravenclaw!"

Harry flipped on his broom, growing quite restless. Suddenly—there it was! Without thinking, Harry inverted his broom and flew straight down. Weasley turned with a start—at first, obviously a little wary about following, but as he spotted the Snitch hovering inches from the ground, he dove quickly and gave chase.

All other action on the field ceased as Harry and Ron sped towards the tiny golden ball, Harry with a commanding lead.

As if it could sense the approaching Seekers, the Snitch turned direction and sped away from them towards the Gryffindor stands.

Instinctively, Harry flipped upside-down on his broom, twisting to avoid a Bludger shot at him by one of the Gryffindor Beaters. He threw his body sideways, gaining more momentum as he led the chase to the Snitch.

He could tell Weasley was behind him, although everything else was a blur—Cho’s voice fading in the wind as it whistled in his face. Somehow, as if he meant to do it all along, Harry pulled the broom sideways at an alarming speed—right into the path of the Snitch as it changed directions. He reached out a hand, a feeling on unmatchable exuberance as his fingers closed around the tiny object, its fluffy wings beating helplessly against the palm of his hand.

The sound of the crowd mixed in with Cho’s delightful crowing rapidly became clearer as he descended towards the ground, still grasping the Snitch.

"I don’t believe it! What an amazing catch by the Ravenclaw Seeker, Harry Dursley! Ravenclaw wins! Ravenclaw wins!"

The rest of the team swooped on Harry in a big dog-pile of joy, congratulating each other and screeching loudly.

Buried beneath a pile of celebrating Ravenclaws, Harry cheered as loud as the rest of them, feeling nothing but pure happiness.

The rest of the day was a complete blur to Harry as he and Cho lounged about the common room in the midst of a humongous party celebrating the Ravenclaw victory, random people coming up to him to shake his hand and congratulate him on his spectacular catch.

At ten to six, Cho excused herself, disappearing upstairs to prepare for that night’s ball. Harry followed soon afterward, showering quickly and addressing his hair, which had always been something of an unruly mess.

Fortunately, Harry was able to direct some semblance of order tonight and was quite pleased with the result. He dressed quickly in a fitted pair of gray brushed-wool trousers and a white button-down oxford shirt. He topped that with his new robes and slipped on a pair of shoes. Grabbing his cloak and taking one last look in the mirror, Harry headed downstairs to the packed common room, creating quite a stir as he entered.

Cho was already waiting for him, wearing her new silver robes that seemed to bring out a sparkling quality in her coal-black eyes. Her silky jet-black hair was done up in an elegant twist, a few loose strands framing her face. All in all, she looked simply beautiful.

Harry grinned widely as she walked over to greet him. "Wow," he breathed. "You look amazing."

Cho blushed, a pretty flush that illuminated her high cheekbones. "Thank you, Harry. You look pretty good yourself."

"Ta." Harry replied, still smiling stupidly.

"You’re beginning to sound like a regular Englishman, you are." Cho remarked, smirking, as he took her arm. "Let’s go, then."

Harry smirked as the ranks of younger students parted to let them through. "This is ridiculous. You’d think we were the bloody Royal Family the way they’re acting." He whispered.

"Bugger off, I like it." Cho whispered back, her smile extending to her ears.

He sniggered as they exited the common room. "Come on, then. The car’s been waiting for five minutes already."

Harry and Cho slipped through the hallways, laughing at nothing in particular.

A long black car adorned with Ministry flags was waiting for them in front of the school.

"Nice." Harry commented, opening the door for Cho. "After you, my good lady."

Cho smiled sweetly at him, lowering herself into the car. Harry followed shortly, looking around at the spacious and luxurious interior of the Ministry Car.

Hermione and Ron were seated across from Cho and Harry. On Harry’s left, along the side of the car sat Ginny and Neville Longbottom, something Harry discerned Ron Weasley wasn’t particularly happy about, judging by the death glares he was sending Neville’s way every three seconds.

"Hello, everybody." Cho said lightly as they settled themselves.

"All right, Cho? I didn’t know you were coming!" Ginny exclaimed, grinning hugely at her.

"Your mother invited me and a guest, so here we are."

Ron scoffed. Hermione punched him in the arm, mouthing "be nice!" and smiled at Cho and Harry.

"Hello, Cho, Harry." She said formally.

"Hi, Hermione." Harry replied.

Ron grumbled.

The rest of the ride was fairly uncomfortable, with Ron pointedly not speaking to Harry, Ginny, or Neville. It was a relief when the car screeched to a halt in front of the grand marquee of the Ritz-Merlin Hotel, the swankiest wizarding hotel in all of Great Britain.

Harry helped Cho out of the car and they followed the Weasleys and their respective dates into the hotel.

The lobby of the hotel was richly festooned with gilded chandeliers, elegant tapestries, and a marble inlaid floor that was so shiny you could see your own reflection in it when you looked down.

The six teenagers trooped into the large elevator ("Muggle technology!" Ron scoffed as they entered) and rode in silence to the top floor ballroom. Harry looked nervously around at his companions. Hermione looked truly beautiful that night, dressed in elegant lavender robes that seemed specially made for her. Her cinnamon hair was tamed into long ringlets that spilled over her shoulders from a golden circlet that ringed the crown of her head. Ginny looked nice as well, dressed in simple robes of spring green that looked lovely against her alabaster skin.

Ron really didn’t paint the portrait of elegance that night, a scowl permanently etched on his features, a scowl that darkened more than ever as he looked upon Harry and Neville especially.

Neville just basically looked nervous, but with the way Ron was looking at him, Harry couldn’t exactly blame him.

As they stepped off the elevator and entered the ballroom, a plump woman in navy blue robes rushed over, wrapping Ginny in a hug and kissing Ron softly on the cheek. "I’m so glad you’re all here now!" she cried, hugging her children.

"Yeah, we’re glad to see you too, Mum." Ron said, pushing himself away from his mother. "Although we don’t go about trying to asphyxiate you the second you step though the door."

Mrs. Weasley sniffed as she dismissed her son’s sarcasm with a wave of her hand. "Your brothers are already here. They’ve been looking for you."

"Oh, Charlie’s here?" Ron asked, his face brightening. "I need to ask him something about Quidditch." With this statement, he scowled furiously in Harry’s direction.

"Stop being such a sore loser, Ron!’ Hermione exclaimed, exasperated. "It’s all I’ve been hearing about all day!" she explained to Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley looked fondly at her son’s retreating back. "He’s still upset about losing then?" she asked Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Naturally."

Mrs. Weasley frowned, before wrapping Hermione in a hug. "I missed you, Hermione. You’re such a sweet girl to put up with his moods."

Hermione smiled at the friendly woman. "I missed you, too, Mrs. Weasley. I better go find Ron, though."

They pulled apart and Hermione left in search of her boyfriend. Mrs. Weasley turned to Cho. "Why Cho Chang, you look so grown up, dear!"

Cho broke into a huge grin as her "Aunt Molly" wrapped her in a hug. "Thanks, Aunt Molly. And thanks for inviting us, too." She gestured to Harry. "This is my friend Harry Dursley."

Harry smiled awkwardly at Mrs. Weasley. "Hello."

"Oh, I remember you, dear! It’s wonderful to see you again! How are you liking Hogwarts so far?"

"I like it a lot. Everyone’s really nice."

"I’ll always remember Hogwarts fondly." Mrs. Weasley said with a smile. "Which house did you end up in, dear?"

"I’m in Ravenclaw."

Mrs. Weasley looked hard at him for a second. "You’re the Seeker, aren’t you?" she said slowly.

Harry widened his eyes. "Um, yes." He answered nervously, all the while wishing furiously that she wouldn’t set the Aurors on him for Wronski Feinting her youngest son.

"You fly marvelously, Harry. Really. That was the best Wronski Feint I’ve ever seen, and with six sons, I’ve been dragged to my share of Quidditch matches!"

Harry laughed. "You and the Minister were there?"

"Of course! Couldn’t miss our Ginny’s first match. Wish it could have ended better for Gryffindor, of course, but you can’t have everything. Come to think of it, I believe Arthur wanted to meet you. Stay here, all right?"

Harry nodded meekly. The Minister of Magic wanted to meet him? Harry looked sideways at Cho. "Is this a good thing?" he asked quietly.

"I think so." Cho whispered back.

Mrs. Weasley returned moments later, a tall man with the red hair of his children in tow.

"Arthur, this is the Ravenclaw Seeker, Harry Dursley." She introduced.

Arthur’s eyes widened. "Harry, is it?" he asked, shaking Harry’s hand. "I wanted to tell you how impressed I was by your flying skills, my boy. Tell me, was that really your first match?"

"Er—yes, it was. I actually just came to Hogwarts this year and never really knew about magic or Quidditch before."

"Really? You lived with Muggles, then? Must be fascinating. I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for the Muggles myself." He chuckled. Harry instinctively liked Mr. Weasley. He had an easy-going personality and warmth just seemed to radiate from him. "But enough of that. I want you to meet someone, Harry."

He led Harry away then, Harry looking apologetically back at Cho, who simply waved him on, laughing. She fell into a conversation with Ginny then, and Harry felt better about leaving her then.

Mr. Weasley led Harry over to a slightly stocky man who had a jovial, boyish face. "Ludo?" Mr. Weasley questioned, tapping the man on the shoulder.

The man spun around, a huge grin lighting up his features. "Arthur! Good to see you mate! How’ve you been?"

"Couldn’t be better, Ludo, but I want to introduce you to someone. Ludo Bagman, meet Harry Dursley. Ludo’s the coach for the Britain Quidditch Team. Ludo, this boy is the best damn Seeker I’ve ever seen in my life! Pulled off this Wronski Feint, better than Krum, I swear it—and it was the lad’s first match!"

Ludo Bagman’s eyes lit up. "This boy could contend with the likes of Krum? God knows we need a better side, especially with all of Britain forming one team for the next World Cup!"

"Don’t I know it!" Arthur said darkly. "I seriously think you should give him a try out, see what he can do. We need a good Seeker."

Bagman was looking at him appraisingly. "He looks so familiar. Have I met you before?" he asked.

"No, I don’t think so." Harry replied.

"No matter. If you’re as good as Arthur here says, then you must really be something to see. You’re up at the school, aren’t you?"

"Hogwarts? Yes, I am."

"Great! Then I’ll be in touch with you soon, see if we can schedule a try out for you. Who knows? You could very well be Britain’s next Seeker!"

With that, he walked away, leaving a very flabbergasted Harry behind.

Arthur slapped Harry on the back. "Good luck, Harry! Now, if you don’t mind, I best be getting back to my wife." He winked at Harry and walked away.

Cho made her way over to where Harry stood. "What’s going on?" she questioned, taking in Harry’s slack-jawed expression.

"They just offered me a tryout for the National team." Harry said, still disbelieving.

Cho’s eyes widened. "Are you kidding me?" she screeched. "You’re so lucky."

"Pinch me." He ordered.

"What?" Cho asked, bewildered.

"So I know I’m not dreaming."

Cho laughed. "Come on, you. We better get seated before you pass out or something."

Harry rolled his eyes, but allowed Cho to lead him to a small table set for four. They sat and talked for a while before dinner was served.

The food was excellent, served by a small army of house elves dressed in gold and purple tea towels.

After dinner, the tables disappeared, leaving a large open space in the middle of the floor for dancing. The hotel band trouped in, setting up their instruments on an elevated platform. As the first sweet strains of music tumbled out of the piano, the floor filled up with twirling couples, among them, Harry and Cho.

The night passed swiftly, with everyone swapping partners and having a most wonderful time. The night was waning, and with the ingestion of large quantities of butterbeer and mulled mead, the revelers got more and more uninhibited.

Cho stopped dancing for a minute, fanning herself. "I think I’ll sit this one out, Harry." She said, wandering over to a table. Harry followed her over, sitting down, when somebody tapped him on the shoulder.

Harry spun around, surprised to find himself face to face with Hermione. "Do you want to dance, Harry?" she asked meekly. Harry looked over to Cho who said, "Go ahead. I need to rest, anyway."

Harry nodded his assent and stood up, taking Hermione’s arm and walking to the center of the floor.

The music began, playing a haunting melody that filled the room. Harry placed his arms around Hermione’s waist and Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck in turn.

As they revolved slowly on the spot, Harry felt an inexplicable warmth filling his body, an odd sense of euphoria that overtook his senses. Something about holding Hermione felt so—right. It was indescribable. He pulled her closer to him, and she responded, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck.

Harry turned his face to look at her. They locked eyes and it was physically impossible to look away.

"Harry—" she whispered.

Their faces were mere inches apart.

Harry didn’t know what was happening or why, but all he knew was that he couldn’t stop. As if drawn by a magnet, they both leaned in, closer and closer—

Suddenly, a loud bang broke the stillness. Harry and Hermione flew apart, both their faces flushed crimson.

A tiny woman was sprinting through the crowd, trembling like a leaf. "Minister!" she yelled. "There’s been an incident!"

Arthur Weasley stepped out of the crowd, his face unusually grave and set in resolute lines. "What is it, Phyllis?" he asked, as though he didn’t really want to hear the answer.

"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban!"