Harry Potter and the Quidditch Island

Codelsbey Manor

Harry didn't notice much as he dragged his Firebolt through the entrance hall and Ron directed him up the staircase to their room on the third floor. All he wanted was to draw a bath and soak in it for an hour or two, which is what he did. After he had warmed up, Harry threw on a robe and left the bathroom, hanging up his clothes on the shower curtain rod. Ron was throwing more wood on the fire.

"Warm yet?" he asked. Ron stood up and put some food into the cages that held Hedwig and Pigwidgeon.

Harry nodded and looked around. Now that he was fully awake, he could take in the surroundings. They were in a rectangular room. There was a double bed on one side of the room and a double sized bunk bed on the other. A window was in the middle of the back wall, and it looked out onto the edge of the island. The rain had let up a bit since Harry's flight two hours ago, but the black storm clouds were still swirling across the sky and the wind was making enormous whitecaps on the sea. In the distance Harry could still hear a low rumbling of thunder.

Behind Harry was a large fireplace that filled an entire corner of the room. A large wooden chandelier that was not hanging, but floating high above them in the centre of the room was filled with many glowing candles that gave the room a real warm felling. The lower half of the walls were lined with a rich dark wood and the upper half was painted cream. Their trunks were at the ends of the beds. On the right hand side of the room was a door leading to the white marble bathroom. In the bathroom were three bathtubs with golden legs and curtains that could be drawn all the way around. All in all, it was a very comfortable place.

"It's pretty nice here isn't it?" Ron said. "We still have another an hour before dinner, so I guess we can go take a look around before we eat."

"Good idea," Harry agreed as he bent to pick up some dry robes out of the trunk. "Who's sharing the room with us?"

"Some guy named Terrence Whittaker," Ron replied as he did the same. "I didn't see who he was, he got here before we did. Sounds kinda snobbish though."

Harry shrugged. "You never know."

"AHHH!"

An ear splitting scream erupted from their bathroom. Looking at each other, extremely shocked, Harry and Ron rushed to the door and flung it open. There, Harry was surprised to see the skinny blonde boy with the glasses, wrapped in a towel and backing into the corner near the sinks and mirror. His hair still had shampoo in it.

Harry turned his head to see what had scared the boy. To his surprise, one of the bathtubs was walking, well, waddling towards him, sloshing water everywhere. The golden legs that Harry had thought were merely for decoration had, on closer inspection, talons on the bottom. The faucet at the back end of the tub was flapping back and forth as though it were a dog's tail.

Harry didn't have any idea how to deal with the walking bathtub, but Ron moved forward and, to Harry's surprise, began to treat it as a dog.

"Come on boy, back we go," he said coaxingly. "That's a good boy, now sit."

Obligingly, the golden legs folded over and the tub flopped back down onto the marble, splashing more water on the ground. Ron reached over and pulled out the plug. The tub stopped moving instantly.

"It's just a simple Pet-Soul Charm," Ron explained. "There are lots of people who'll bewitch certain things in their house to act like animals."

"Why would anyone do that?" Harry asked. Terrence Whittaker didn't seem to be able to speak; he just gaped at the bathtub, which looked completely unremarkable now that Ron had calmed it.

"For company," Ron explained. "Or because it gives them the excitement of having a pet without having to worry about the mess, though," he looked down at the puddles of water all over the floor, "I don't think that's the reason in this case. My dad's had a rough time with Pet-Soul Charms because they toe the line between legal and illegal in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. A lot of old manors have living things like this," Ron continued, "often because the people who owned them got old and lonely and needed some entertainment." He turned to Terence. "If you ever see another living appliance or anything, just treat it like a pet and tell it to leave you alone."

"Thanks," Terence mumbled, regaining his voice. His face was bright pink.

"Are you Terence Whittaker?" Harry asked.

"Terry," he replied with a nod. "And you're Harry Potter, the one who stopped You-Know-Who right? That was amazing flying you did out there. And you're only 15."

"Thanks," Harry replied, trying to hide his smile. "You did a good job yourself."

"And you're assistant manager Breazley right?" Terry asked, turning to Ron.

"Um, yeah, that's me," Ron replied, a little warily.

To their surprise, a disappointed look crossed Terry's face.

"Just my luck," he said sadly. "I have to watch my back out there and in here."

Ron was stunned.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to get you thrown out or anything," Ron reassured him, trying hard not to laugh. "I'm just here to have fun and," he grinned, "watch out for Harry. You can call me Ronny."

Terry smiled.

"Alright, I'm going to finish washing my hair. I'll see you at dinner?"

Harry smiled. This wasn't turning out to be so bad after all. But he had a feeling that he'd forget to call Ron 'Ronny' for the rest of the summer. It just didn't seem to fit him. Harry turned as he heard Terry shut the shower curtain behind him. He was now facing the white marble counter, which, he realized, was now covered in a large assortment of bottles.

"Look at this," he whispered as the water started running. "Who needs this much soap?"

"Anti-bacterial, super cleansing -- you'd think a little dirt would kill him," said Ron, shaking his head in disbelief. "Come on, I don't want him to hear us."

Harry had been too tired to realize this before, but this manor was actually quite comfortable. The walls in the halls were modeled the same way that they were in the rooms, and the cream coloured paint gave the manor a very cozy atmosphere. There were many decorations hanging from the walls, along with numerous large oil paintings. Most of the decorations were ancient war artifacts from around the world, things like swords and suits of armor, but almost all seemed to be bewitched in one way or another. The suit of armor at the base of the staircase on the second floor was actually quite friendly to Harry and Ron, though he began to ramble on about the history of the owners of the manor. Luckily, it got into a heated argument with a portrait of a man in a feathered hat that was hanging across the hall, giving Harry and Ron a chance to slip away.

"What happened while I was out at sea?" Harry asked Ron as they passed a painting of a leprechaun and a giant who were arguing over where to have tomorrow's afternoon tea.

"Well, I had just finished unloading the trunks when the first of them started appearing," Ron began. The boys passed a helmet hanging overtop of two crossed swords, which was chortling merrily to the tune of Yankee Doodle. "All of the flyers were drenched and shivering and popping out of nowhere. You should have seen the looks they were being given by the trainers, though I don't think that's really fair since the trainers Apparated as well, but their camp, their rules I suppose. I'm glad you made it, I was starting to worry after a while since you don't even know how to Apparate. But I mean, after that performance, I don't really think you're going to have any problems."

"How did you manage to get all of the trunks away so quickly?" Harry asked Ron.

"Magic," Ron said with a laugh.

Harry looked at him, stunned.

"But Ron, that's against Ministry law. You could be expelled for it. Remember when Dobby used magic in my house over the summer? They chewed me out and it wasn't even my fault."

Dobby was a house-elf, a small brown creature with tennis ball sized eyes that was a slave to its owners until they presented the elf with a piece of clothing. Dobby had been freed by Harry during his second year, and had always been trying to lend a hand, though he often cause more trouble then expected.

" 'You could be expelled for it!' " Ron mocked him in a high pitched voice. "Really Harry, you sound like Hermione. I'm not too worried. I mean, if they were going to get me in trouble, wouldn't I have gotten an owl by now? Besides, I'll need to use some magic to get all of my work done. Swan wants me running around like a gopher. He said the house-elves in the manor are cooking and cleaning but I'm supposed to supervise them and do all of the jobs that he doesn't trust them to do, which is a hell of a lot more than it should be. Plus I have to take care of the brooms, and organize paperwork, and supervise the money we get. I'm going to be busy all summer so I won't have time to worry about owls from the Ministry." Ron said this rather confidently, but Harry couldn't help notice him eyeing a nearby window.

"So what do you know about these people?" Harry asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Well, I know the people who finished the flight this evening. Besides you and Terry, there's Cory Rodricks, Rodney Nackoronty, Jean-Paul Malcotts, and Amy Zampowick. They were all flying really well, especially that Cory guy. He had a Firebolt too you know. He looks like a real jock type, really serious about his flying. I feel sorry for that Amy girl, because she's the only girl that managed to make it to this camp."

Harry nodded. Cory Rodricks was the one who didn't want him there. Well he'd just have to impress Cory with his Seeker skills.

The boys climbed down the staircase to the front hall. The dark hardwood floor gleamed from the light of a large golden chandelier floating high in the air above them. In the place of candles were snakes with fire in their mouths. It shocked Harry when each of the snakes turned its head to watch them pass. The ceiling was very high, which gave ample space for the large picture frames that lined the walls. Unlike the rest of the picture frames in the manor, these did not contain oil paintings. Instead they were filled with collages of photographs, which showed people on brooms and passing balls back and forth during training drills. In the centre of each frame was a group of ten or so people: a group of players and one older man, who Harry guessed was the person who played the part of Stan Swan. The pictures were of varying age, from primitive looking black and white photographs of people at the turn of the century, to modern day pictures that must have been taken no more than a year ago. Harry paused, looking around the room. His eyes fell on the giant front door, made of thick dark wood. On the middle of the door was a bronze plaque. Harry walked over to check it out. There was miniscule gold writing on it that he had to squint to read.

Codelsbey Manor

Sir Valdertroth Codelsbey erected the historic Codelsbey Manor in 1865. Born in Cambridge in 1799, he was the son of Vanderball and Petrothsa Codelsbey. After attending school in France where he was discovered for his excellent skills as a Quidditch Keeper, Valdertroth came back to Britain and married Eleanor Beaglesworth before joining the ancient Sunderland Swash Buckets. After helping them on to many victories, the team's managers had some financial problems which led to their merge with Puddlemore United, a move that made most of the Swash Buckets' players members of the second or third line up, and the Sunderland Swash Buckets' history was almost completely forgotten. Valdertroth was one of the luckier players and was promoted their starting Keeper within two months. However, in a freak accident involving a Beater's club, a badly made goal post, and a few pumpkin juice cans, Valdertroth found himself with two broken legs, a horrible concussion and a phobia which kept him off a broomstick for the rest of his life. And yet, with all of these injuries, his Quidditch career wasn't over. Though he was never to fly again, he decided to take his talents to the managerial side of the game. Not wanting to see this team go the way of the Sunderland Swash Buckets, he took the reigns and was, for a while, the best manager Puddlemore ever had.

Unfortunately for both him and his team, the concussion that he received had some long-term side effects that were not apparent until the 1850's, when his managerial career took a turn for the worse. He retired when he turned 60, though he claimed his retirement was not because he was losing his skills as a manager but because he was so appalled by the performance of the English teams in the international Quidditch circuit. After many more English defeats Valdertroth, disgusted by his home country, decided to put together a program that would, hopefully, recruit some better athletes to play for England. In 1861, after devising the program, Valdertroth started to draw up some plans for the construction of a place to house the young hopefuls. Codelsbey Manor was completed in 1865.

As English Quidditch teams became more and more successful, Valdertroth's idea caught on in other countries as well, inspiring Quidditch administrators world wide to create their own training camps. After several negotiations, Valdertroth worked out an agreement with almost all of these administrators, which decided that the camps would run from the beginning of July to the end of August, and would culminate in match against a randomly selected nation. 1868 marked the first year that the International Quidditch Recruiting Program was run.

Codelsbey Manor was of great supplier of many fine Quidditch players, however the program had to be stopped during the times of the Dark Lord, a move that is said to have caused the lack of skilled athletes on England's Quidditch teams. The manor was at that time used as a recluse for witches and wizards because the Isle was easy to protect and very out of the way. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was never able to take hold of the island, which caused many members of the magical community to go into hiding at the manor. Since the Quidditch Recruiting Program only takes place during the summer, the rest of the time it is used as an inn and is a very popular vacation spot for wizarding families, especially those with underage children. Valdertroth Codelsbey died in 1892. He lived in the manor until his death. Mr. Redford Chilesworth, second cousin of Valdertroth's great, great, great grandson, is presently the curator of the manor.

"Codelsbey Manor," Ron said thoughtfully. "I always knew that there was a recruiting program on the Isle of Mann, but I didn't know that was how it was started. Doesn't it feel good to know that you are in a program founded by a 200 year old crazy man?"

Harry laughed. So basically, this was an inn, which would explain why just about all of the rooms in the upper floors were bedrooms. He wasn't surprised that it was so popular during the times when Voldemort was at power, it being so comfortable and easy to protect. Not only that, but it was full of witches and wizards at all times, and was in a very remote area, at the northernmost tip of the island. It sounded like a great place to protect someone, or to hide them...

"Shall we go outside then?" Ron suggested, reaching for the large doorknob. He pulled it, but the door didn't move. Scratching his head, Ron grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled with all his might. With a loud groan the door opened about two inches.

"I could use a hand here," he said to Harry, stretching out his fingers.

Harry chuckled with a shake of his head, put his hands in the two-inch gap and tried to pull it open. He was soon sorry he laughed because he barely moved it an inch. With Ron helping him, they managed to get the door about a foot away from the frame. Sliding through sideways, they managed to get out into the fresh air. As soon as they were outside, the door slammed behind them.

By now, the rain had stopped, but the icy wind was still blowing as hard as ever. The raging black sea looked just as menacing from the island as it had when he was flying over it. Harry shivered and rubbed his arms, wishing he had his cloak on.

They walked out to the place where the trainees had landed and looked up at the manor. It was made of rectangular black bricks. The walls were square and angular, as were the towers. Dark green ivy was crawling up the walls. A small garden wall wrapped itself around the base of the manor. From this garden grew dark green bushes that fell over the sides of the wall. The ground on which they were standing was made of grey cobblestone. The cobblestones wrapped all around the base of the castle, with paths leading out back. Great stone steps led down to a grassy patch about 20 feet long which lead to the beach. Another small wooden dock, this one larger and more conspicuous than the last held the four boats that Ron and the others had traveled in.

"It really looks different from out here," Harry stated. "A lot darker then on the inside. And a lot less cheerful." It was true. It looked like the kind of people that lived in the manor would be rich old hermits.

"It's probably to keep Muggles out," Ron said knowledgably. "I don't think that Muggle security was as much of a priority in Valdertroth's time, but you would think that he wouldn't want them to just drop in at any time. That's probably why the manor is so dark. Most people would just stay away then risk meeting with the kind of people that would live in this house. But I'm pretty sure that by now there would be some sort of Muggle-Repelling charms on the property."

Harry and Ron began to walk around the manor. It was built on the northernmost part of the island. You could see the beach from the north and east sides of the manor. A dark forest covered the other two sides. Harry had really been looking forward to seeing the Quidditch pitch, but it was nowhere to be found. There was a small cobblestone path leading into the forest, which could possibly contain hide a pitch, but Ron grabbed his arm before Harry could walk anywhere.

"Dinner's in half an hour," Ron explained. "I need to get ready to wait tables tonight, to be extra welcoming to you all." He shuddered. "I don't know why Swan is making me do this. It'd be easier to just have the house-elves bring the food up like they do at Hogwarts."

The two boys headed back to the manor, though they had a few problems with the door. Again, they couldn't push it open. Harry raised his wand, but Ron stopped him.

"You haven't done any magic yet," Ron explained. "They might as well not have to expel both of us." Harry could tell that Ron had tried to sound casual as he said that, but his reddening ears gave him away.

Ron went down a hall to the left of the doors, leaving Harry standing alone in the foyer staring at the giant fireplace that faced him at the back of the entrance hall. He started to head towards the staircase, but almost fell over. He couldn't lift his feet to walk. Looking down, he saw that the large welcome mat didn't say 'Welcome' anymore, but said 'Hold it, Bub.'

"What?" Harry asked. He felt rather stupid talking to a mat.

The stitching on the mat changed to say 'I don't want you walking all over my floors with your muddy feet.'

Harry tried to lift his feet to check the mud, but again almost fell since he couldn't move them.

"Well how am I supposed to clean them if you don't let me move?" Harry asked it, rather frustrated.

'Guess you should have though of that before you came in with dirty feet,' the rug now read.

Harry began squirming and twisting his legs but the mat held strong. A few boys passed, snickering as they went. Harry glared at them.

"Need a hand?" Terry Whittaker was just coming down the stairs. He bent over and yanked on a loose thread on the mat. Instantly, Harry felt the grip on his feet loosen.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem," Terry replied, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "It got me on the way in too."

"Do you have any idea where we should be going for dinner?" Harry asked. He and Ron had only walked through the upper halls, which only had bedrooms for the inn's guests. They hadn't look anywhere on the first floor.

"No," Terry said honestly, "but I've learned that if you follow the crowd, you usually end up where you want to be. And if not, at least it won't be entirely your fault if you get in trouble."

Harry smiled and rubbed his muddy shoes rather roughly on the mat before following Terry. They went through the same hall that Ron had. The hall was wide, and it turned to the right after only ten feet, but before the turn was a door with a glass window. On the window, written in gold, were the words Camp Cafeteria.

Inside the dining hall there were many people already sitting at the four wooden tables that stretched from one end of the room to the other. On different points on each table were a pitcher of water and a pitcher of pumpkin juice, a napkin dispenser, a salt and peppershaker, and a basket of cutlery. The walls were like the rest of the manor, but the floor was tiled black and white. This reminded Harry more of a Muggle summer camp then of a wizard manor.

Harry and Terry walked along the closest table and sat at the end furthest from the door. At the opposite end of the table was Amy, her nose again in a book. This one was titled Great Figures in Quidditch History. Harry watched her, and he seriously considered getting up to ask her if he could borrow one of her books. He realized suddenly that she was actually quite pretty, and wondered why he hadn't realized it before. It was probably because she was hidden behind her books when she was on the bus, or perhaps it had just been nerves that had kept him distracted.

Harry turned around as he heard a ruckus behind him. Cory Rodricks and his entourage had just entered the room. The tall blonde boy named Rodney seemed to be telling a very humourous story, because Cory was laughing, as was the Jean-Paul boy, though not quite as loudly.

Judging by what he could see, Harry concluded that these three people had been very popular wherever they had come from. Cory Rodricks seemed like the leader of the group. Rodney Nackoronty looked like the funny man, as he obviously wasn't shy, and reminded Harry quite a bit of Fred and George Weasley, Ron's twin brothers. Finally, there was Jean-Paul Malcotts. He looked like the quieter member of the group and by the looks of him Harry guessed that one of his parents might be Oriental. Already it seemed that these three were friends with quite a few people in the camp.

The three boys sat near the end of the table being shared by Harry, Terry and the Amy girl. Rodney looked over at her and decided to start a conversation. He seemed friendly enough, but maybe a little loud for Amy's liking. While she was smiling and laughing at a few of his jokes, her cheeks were going rather pink as if she wasn't used to talking to people like this. Harry noticed Cory was smiling, looking her up and down through rather narrow eyes, and Harry frowned at the look he was giving her. It appeared as though Amy too had noticed what Cory was doing and she seemed very self-conscious of this attention.

"What's Ron doing up there?" Harry turned his head to look at Terry. He then looked over at Ron.

Ron was at the same side of the room where Amy was sitting, walking along and shouting things into a rectangular opening in the wall at about chest height. Through it Harry could see another room that must have been the cafeteria kitchen. Pots and pans were clinking behind it and he could hear food sizzling in grease. Harry stood up a little and tried to see into the room. It wasn't very big, and it stunned him when he saw that the floor was almost completely covered in house elves, all busily cooking meals. Ron was shouting out directions to them. A short witch with a white apron over her black robes walked into the room. She started talking to Ron and pointing to her wrist. Ron began arguing with her, but turned abruptly to the kitchen, which was filling with black smoke.

"I think he's managing the kitchen," Harry replied. Harry looked back at the group of boys who were with Amy. Rodney was now talking to Jean-Paul, and Cory was trying to spark a conversation with Amy, who seemed more interested in watching Ron angrily trying to manage the kitchen. She didn't seem to be listening to Cory, only smiling and nodding. This was obviously annoying Cory, and he glared at Ron as he spoke.

Ron on the other hand looked extremely relieved when many baskets of buns arrived on the sill of the large window. He nodded to the woman who pointed her wand at the food and a few baskets rose and landed on the furthest table near each grouping of cutlery. She proceeded to do this to fill up the rest of the tables. Ron sighed in relief and smiled sheepishly at Harry, who smiled back. He then wiped the sweat off of his brow and turned to the kitchen.

To Harry, and Cory's surprise, Amy stood up and walked over to Ron. She stuck out her hand and Ron distractedly shook it. He continued to call into the kitchen, while Amy continued talking. Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, it looked like she was offering help, but Ron shook his head. They continued to talk for a moment until a loud sizzling sound came from the kitchen and Ron turned away from Amy and yelled into the kitchen.

Harry looked over at Cory, who was still glaring angrily at Ron. Rodney had also noticed this glare and proceeded to laugh out loud. Cory now turned his glare to Rodney who continued laughing. Amy sat down dejectedly and began to butter a bun as she turned back to her book.

Within 10 minutes, there was food on the tables, though not as much as there usually was a Hogwarts. There were sausages, salads, and meat pies all around, followed by lemon custard for dessert. Harry proceeded to take a slice of the meat pie and began conversing with Terry.

"So, how old are you?" Harry asked.

Terry looked up from his salad.

"18," he replied through a mouthful of lettuce. He swallowed then opened his mouth as if to say something, but changed his mind and proceeded to fill it with a tomato.

"What?" Harry asked.

Terry looked at him timidly.

"Can I see you scar?" he asked quickly, turning his eyes away as soon as he stopped talking.

Harry lifted the tuff of hair that covered the lighting bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.

"No, I don't remember Voldemort but I do remember that he had a very high pitched laugh. No, I don't remember how much it hurt; all I saw was green light. Yes, I know that it was the Avada Kedavra curse and that I'm the only person who's ever survived it." Harry paused. "Does that answer all of your questions?"

Terry was now gaping at him with a wide-eyed horrified expression. He was shaking slightly and looked as though he was considering rushing out of the room.

"What?" Harry asked, slightly disturbed by Terry's sudden horror.

"You--you said--" Terry's voice was a choked whisper. "That name, you said the name!"

"What, Voldemort?"

Terry gasped and jumped backwards, falling out of his seat and crashing to the floor. A few people laughed as Terry untangled his legs and pulled himself back into a seated position, his face positively glowing with embarassement.

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, feeling extremely bad. "I always forget, I didn't grow up afraid of him, you see--"

"That's ok," Terry muttered. "My dad was always really paranoid, he saw a lot of bad stuff at work and I guess it kinda rubbed off on me..."

"Whew!" Ron exclaimed as he sat down next to Harry. "I've never worked so hard in my life."

"What was going on back there?" Harry asked, extremely relieved that Ron had showed up. "I've never known house-elves to cause so much trouble. Aren't they usually very obedient?"

"Yeah, they are," he replied. "But I think they've just hired some new ones or something and they don't know how Swan wants his camp run." Ron sighed. "I have a feeling Swan just wants me doing extra work. Those house-elves could probably have managed themselves much better if I hadn't been telling them what to do the whole time. But I had orders and all." He sighed again and took a bite out of a bun.

"Who was that witch yelling at you?" Terry asked.

"She called herself Mrs. Franklin," Ron replied. He took a big swig of pumpkin juice. "Normally, I'd probably call her a fat cow, but I'm glad she was there. Those house-elves don't like to listen to me, but they sure are scared of her."

Terry chuckled, glancing nervously over at Mrs. Franklin, before piling more salad onto his plate.

"Are you a vegetarian?" Harry asked, looking at Terry's plate, which hadn't been touched by meat. Terry's eyes flickered in Ron's direction before he turned back to his meal.

"No, I just...I don't really like eating meat. You could get food poisoning and be sick for days. I don't like to eat it unless I cook it myself, then I can be sure it's done. Nothing personal or anything," he said quickly to Ron, again going red in the face. Ron frowned at him.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with the meat," he said resentfully, spearing a sausage for himself. "I watched those house-elves burn the sausages myself."

Terry went even redder, mumbled something, and took a sausage, though he didn't look too happy about it. He cut it into very small pieces before eating it. Ron shook his head in disbelief.

"Hello." Amy Zampowick had come up and was standing next to Terry. "May I sit here?"

"Sure," Ron said, turning back to his sausage. She smiled at him and proceeded to sit down.

"You flew really well out there," Terry said rather shyly.

"Thanks, you too," she replied offhandedly. "You know, if you ever need any help in the kitchens, I'd be glad to lend a hand. I've learned a lot about cooking, and I could help get the meals ready. I'm surprised those elves were giving you such a hard time."

"No, thanks anyway," said Ron, now helping himself to some salad without looking at her. "Swan told me to manage the kitchen staff exactly the way he specified." He popped a tomato into his mouth. "Everything has to be exact with that man, and I bet he'd think I was getting you to do the work for me. Nah, I'd be better off on my own."

"Well you should consider talking to those elves and setting them straight," she continued. "I've read a lot about house-elf psychology so I'd be happy to give you a hand with them."

"I don't think that would be a very good idea," Ron said. "Swan wouldn't like to see me getting extra help. The man seems like he's got it in for me. For both of our sakes, I suggest you just let me deal with it." He proceeded to spear another sausage.

Amy looked taken aback at his less than enthusiastic response. With a disappointed smile she stood up.

"Alright, that's fine. See you all tomorrow. I think I'm going to read up some Quidditch facts in the library then call it a night. If you need me, you know where to find me."

Harry and Terry both smiled, but then Ron finally looked at her.

"Hey wait!" he called out.

She turned around, an eager smile crossing her face.

"Do you know Hermione Granger?" he asked.

Her eyes widened.

"No," she replied. "Why?"

"Oh. Well, you should consider sending her an owl. You might find a soul mate. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said again, giving him a puzzled smile, and walked out, picking up her books and saying goodbye to Cory, Rodney and Jean-Paul before leaving the room.

As soon as she left, Cory beckoned to his friends. They stood up and sat down with Harry, Ron, and Terry.

"Hello mates," Rodney said cheerfully. "Who might you be?"

"I'm Harry," Harry replied. "This is Ronny and Terry."

"Blimey!" Rodney exclaimed. "Harry Potter? Would ya look at that, eh Cory?" But Cory merely nodded, still looking at them all with narrowed eyes.

"I'm J.P," Jean-Paul answered. "This is Cory, and Hawk."

Hawk grinned. Somehow, he seemed to find just about everything a joke. Harry smiled back. Ron nodded, but Terry was suddenly fascinated with his lemon custard.

"You sure did a good job with those house-elves back there," Hawk said, still grinning. "How many casualties on the battle ground tonight?"

"Only one," Ron replied. "The second explosion scalded and elf with sausage grease."

"Good show!" Hawk replied. "A little pointer for next time though, make sure there are no teeth in the salad before you serve it. I had one of those things wedged in my throat for a while before I could swallow it."

"The tooth was in your salad?" Ron asked with a lot of enthusiasm. "Congratulations! That was the prize. Bring in five and you get the jackpot."

Hawk smirked at his sarcasm. All Ron wanted to do, it seemed, was eat his dinner in peace, but Cory cut in.

"Who are you?" he asked rather rudely. "Seriously. I find it hard to believe that they want me on a team being managed by someone two years younger than me."

"How old are you?" Ron asked.

"Nineteen," Cory replied.

"Then you're wrong," Ron replied smoothly. "It's being managed by someone four years younger than you."

Hawk and Harry both laughed. J.P was grinning, and even Terry found it hard to hide his smile. Cory sneered at him.

"Listen, boys, I don't know how you either of you got here, but since you did, I want you staying out of my way. And back off of Amy," he said to Ron. "I saw her first."

With that, he stormed out of the dinning hall. Hawk chuckled and saluted them before leaving the room. J.P, however, stayed a moment.

"Don't worry guys," J.P said reassuringly. "Cory is just used to getting his way all the time. We went to school together; Hawk, Cory and I, and Cory was always the big man on campus. He was captain of the Quidditch team; he really is a great Chaser. I play Keeper and Hawk plays Beater." He turned to Harry. "Cory's just worried that you'll steal the spotlight."

"How could I steal his spotlight? I'm only fifteen," Harry said disbelievingly.

"Exactly," J.P. said patiently. "You're fifteen years old, so you must be really good if you're here. Plus, you're the famous Harry Potter. Even if Cory does end up being a better player than you, if people see your name on a team list they aren't going to take a second look at anyone else's. He's just not used to that. And Ronny, I don't think he likes you because you're so young and you have such an important role. I mean, a sixth year student as a manager? He probably just thinks you'll ruin things."

"He's not the only one," Ron muttered.

"I wouldn't worry too much," J.P continued. "Cory's might talk big, but I don't think he'd really try anything. But, if I were you, I'd watch out all the same. He's really competitive, and Hawk's a pretty good guy but he wouldn't say no to a good prank. Just don't do anything to make him angry and you won't have to worry."

Harry looked at him skeptically. It sounded a lot like J.P. was trying to psyche them out. Was he trying to scare Harry into backing off and leaving positions open for him and his friends? But none of them played Seeker, and there wasn't anything mistrustful in J.P.'s eyes. Then again, these were very different people than Harry was used to. Who knew what they were capable of?

"Well, I better get going," J.P. said with a smile as he stood up. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

J.P. stood up and left the dining hall. Ron was frowning.

"What did he mean, 'Stay away from Amy'? She came to me, I didn't ask for her. Besides, I don't want her; he can have her. She's kind of annoying." He let out a burp and pushed himself away from the table.

Harry stood up and started to head out with Ron.

"Ron, she's exactly like Hermione, and you and Hermione are good friends. How can you not like this girl?"

"I don't know, maybe I like a challenge. I don't see Hermione throwing herself at anyone," he answered. "Except maybe our friend Vicky. Anyways, I'm starting to think it's going to be pretty tough this summer for us, being the 'kids' and all. I don't know how I'm going to be able to order around 30 guys who could probably all knock me into next week."

The two boys headed up to their dormitory, with Terry close behind. Harry couldn't help wondering why this girl was so taken to Ron. He also wondered why he was feeling so jealous.