Just Plain Harry

Chapter 30 Different Virtues

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

--- The Sorting Hat, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

The next few weeks seemed to Harry to be divided between revising for the O.W.L.s and Quidditch, which was much too much time spent on schoolwork, in his opinion. Hermione rewrote their timetables, with much more studying on them, and much less fun. Ron, of course, said, "I thought we were revising! What were we doing, if we weren´t?", but Harry wasn´t too surprised that he went along with it. What did surprise him a bit was that the rest of the fifth-year Gryffindors did, too. Many afternoons found them as a group, huddled around a table in the library, feverishly reading and scribbling, or hanging on Hermione´s every word as she explained some tiny detail about Potions or Transfiguration. This did lead to some interesting situations. Hermione became so angry at Lavender and Seamus´ seeming inability to keep their hands off of each other that she ordered them to sit at opposite ends of the table. Lavender didn´t come to the study sessions for a good week after that, and Harry suspected that the atmosphere in the girls´ dormitory was strained, to say the least. Hermione stood firm, though, and Lavender did come back, which made Harry happier than he had thought it would. He was surprised at how quickly he came to look forward to these sessions, and to feel something missing when even one of the Gryffindors wasn´t there.

Quidditch took up almost as much of Harry´s time. The annual Gryffindor-Slytherin match was coming up, and Angelina, though by no means as fanatical as Oliver Wood had been, was determined to see her team prepared for victory. They practiced constantly, in all conditions, and Harry loved every minute of it. He felt so alive on a broom, and that feeling he´d had the very first time he´d flown - that this was something easy, something fun, something he was meant to do - never really left him.

The only downside to being so busy was that Harry didn´t have much time to spend with Ginny. Most evenings, even after an afternoon spent in the library, found the fifth-year Gryffindors still revising for the O.W.L.s under Hermione´s watchful eye. Ginny often studied near them, but that just wasn´t enough for Harry. And she was as busy as he was, between her training with Miss Stuart, which kept intensifying, her sessions with the centaurs, her Advanced Charms classes with Professor Flitwick, and her own studying. Harry remembered how much work he´d had as a fourth year - it wasn´t anything near studying for the O.W.L.s, but it was still a lot.

It wasn´t even that he wanted to sneak off to find a broom cupboard so he could kiss her, or not only that; he really wanted to talk to her. He was realizing that, even though they´d spent a lot of time together this past year, he actually knew very little about her. Of course, when he thought about things he´d like to know about her, he realized that he didn´t even know the questions to ask. Spending most of your youth locked in a cupboard doesn´t exactly lead to knowledge of how childhood works.

Ginny did come to some of his Quidditch practices, sitting in the stands with a book. Harry fussed over her to put the Warming Charm on the bench, which made her laugh at him, but he noticed that she didn´t actually get much reading done while she was there. He had to endure some ribbing from Fred and George about Ginny, but he found that he didn´t actually mind that, especially when they did it in earshot of Ginny herself. Hearing her tease Fred right back, with Angelina right there, was a joy to behold, especially when Katie and Alicia joined her. Harry had never had so much plain fun with the Quidditch team before. Very occasionally, Ginny managed to convince Hermione to join her in the stands, but she didn´t really enjoy Quidditch for its own sake, so the two of them actually got some work done on those days. Harry noticed that Fred and George didn´t tease Hermione nearly as much as they did him (even though Ron came in for his fair share), and though he felt petty about it, he couldn´t help hoping that this meant that he was accepted as one of the Weasley family.

Of course, Harry received several owls from Molly Weasley over those weeks. Reading between the lines of her first owl, he realized that Dudley had thrown a temper-tantrum when his mother told him of his father´s death and their change in circumstances. Hermione said that even Aunt Petunia must have been disgusted at that, but Molly didn´t say anything to indicate that. Instead, Aunt Petunia seemed to have promised Dudley that Harry would ensure that he could stay at Smeltings. At Ginny´s and Sirius´ promptings, Harry wrote back to say that he didn´t know why Dudley couldn´t switch to a comprehensive school, like Stonewall, where Harry would have gone if he hadn´t been a wizard. Aunt Petunia herself had sent him an owl in reply.

Dear Harry, it said,

Thank you for all of your assistance. I understand your reluctance to support your cousin in a public school. I hope that you, in turn, will understand that everything I earn must then go to supporting Dudley. I will have to rely on you for assistance longer than I had hoped I must.

Sincerely,

Aunt Petunia

After Harry read that letter to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, he looked up to three stunned faces.

"Mental, that one," Ron finally said.

"I think...I think Mum must have made her write that letter," Ginny said.

"Or at least forced her to make it more polite," Hermione said, taking the letter from Harry and shaking her head as she re-read it. "She is so lucky to have you, Harry. I just wish I could be certain she knows that."

Harry was quite certain of the opposite, but the whole situation was beginning to strike him as funny. He didn´t need all of the money he had, after all, and the Dursleys had supported him monetarily for years. Besides, the idea of Aunt Petunia working to support Dudley made him smile, even in the most boring History of Magic lessons.

One day after Charms, Professor Flitwick asked Harry to stay behind. Hermione looked worried for him, but Harry knew he hadn´t done anything wrong, so he was able to approach the tiny professor with a smile. Flitwick smiled back.

"Ah, Harry," he said. "Brenna O´Keefe told me that you know of her efforts at creating a Communication Charm?" When Harry nodded, he added, "Good, good. We think - we hope - that she has made a breakthrough, and she wants to try it out. George Weasley has volunteered, of course, but Brenna and I think that she should try it with someone who´s not so close to her. She has asked for you."

Harry met Professor Flitwick´s eyes in surprise. He saw Brenna almost every day, but he couldn´t say that he knew her very well. He understood why she wanted to use him. She knew she could trust him, and she knew he knew about the charm, so he was probably the most remote person with whom she could experiment. He just wasn´t entirely certain that he wanted someone else in his head. Still, he knew that they really needed this charm to work, and that if he didn´t do it, she´d just try with George again, so he told Professor Flitwich that he could come back that evening after dinner. Hermione wouldn´t be happy that he would miss the Transfiguration revision session she had planned, but he knew she´d understand. After all, she was spending quite a lot of time, herself, on offensive charm after offensive charm for the same Advanced Charms class.

Harry wasn´t at all surprised to find George waiting for him that evening, in addition to Brenna and Professor Flitwick. George sat on top of one of the desks, his arms crossed over his chest. Brenna stood next to Professor Flitwick, their heads on a level with each other´s, though she stood on the floor, and he on a pile of books.

"Hi, Harry," Brenna said, coming towards him to greet him. "Thank you for agreeing to do this," she added quietly. For the first time that Harry could remember, she actually looked him in the eye.

"I still think it should be me," George said, from his perch on the desk. "No offense, Harry. But, I mean, I wouldn´t exactly mind if you made me black out."

Brenna turned pink, but she grinned. "I know, George," she said.

"We´ll proceed as we planned, George," Professor Flitwick said. "When you´re ready, Harry, Brenna."
Brenna nodded. "Okay, Harry, why don´t you sit down here," she said, leading him over to a chair. "I´m going to stand over there, near the windows. If you don´t hear me, in your mind, tell me, and I´ll move closer until you do."

At first, Harry thought she´d been taking lessons from Hermione, but then he realized that she was nervous. He tried to smile reassuringly at her, but she didn´t seem to notice. She took out her wand, gripped it tightly, took a deep breath, and murmured her Charm. Her eyes bored into Harry´s from across the room, and he closed his own as he heard her voice in his mind without seeing her lips move.

Harry, do you hear me?

Green grass and wind...clouds in the sky...warm breeze...sun on skin...laughter...

Harry, can you...

Why do they not understand? Why do they never understand? Why is it wrong to love to learn? Why can I not read outside? Why do I have to go to church when nothing there makes sense? Why can Aine go to Corin´s birthday party, and I can´t? Why am I different?

Harry, what is...

"Brenna Mary O´Keefe, what have I told you over and over again? No books in the barn!" "I hope that´s not an owl I see, Brenna. What have I told you about owls in this house?" "Still awake, little Mary? Big day ahead of us tomorrow - put that book away." "Brenna, however did you do that? If you can´t get down from that tree, how did you get up there in the first place?" "You made your teacher´s nose grow, little Mary? Oh, I had so hoped..." "What have I told you, Brenna? Chores first, then homework." "Why are you crying, Brenna? This Cedric Diggory wasn´t even in Ravenclaw." "Brenna, who´s George? Only, Mum´s got your owl from him." "I suppose we have to let you go, little Mary..."

Harry...

"RAVENCLAW!" "Full marks, Miss O´Keefe." "Ten points to Ravenclaw, Miss O´Keefe." "Ask Brenna, she´ll know." "Can you believe what those Weasley twins did, Brenna? I thought I´d die laughing when that snowball hit Professor Quirrell´s turban!" "Five points to Ravenclaw, Miss O´Keefe." "Dementors - oh, no, Brenna, dementors again - what is that? A Patronus? I should have known that..." "It doesn´t matter if no one asks us to the Yule Ball, does it, Brenna? We can both go stag. At least Cho´s going with a champion - up Ravenclaw!" "Ten points from Ravenclaw, Miss O´Keefe, and be grateful it isn´t more." "Well done, Miss O´Keefe! Look, everyone, Miss O´Keefe´s done it." "Full marks again, Miss O´Keefe. Excellent essay."

Harry, wait...

"Oh, Brenna, I´m going to miss you so much!" "There´s a lot of girls in Ravenclaw this year, aren´t there?" "Brenna, d´you want to study together? We could meet in the library after dinner..." "Mum´s been unbearable for months now. I wish I could go to Hogwarts with you, Brenna..." "Just because you like to hide out in the library and never come out, doesn´t mean all Ravenclaws do!" "I´m so glad we were sorted together, aren´t you, Brenna?" "Oh, he´s definitely got his eye on you, Brenna. Just wait, he´ll ask you to the Yule Ball for sure." "One of the Weasley twins? Brenna, are you insane?"

Harry...

Moonlight on snow...snowflakes on red hair...a quick breath of cologne...breathe in, breathe out...a rough thumb across skin...a low chuckle...warm, caring eyes...

HARRY!

"What?" Harry said, flailing his arms to push away the hands that he suddenly felt holding his head. He heard a squeak, and opened his eyes to see Professor Flitwick on his back on the floor, his short arms and legs waving in the air like a turtle´s. Harry looked around to see Brenna kneeling by the window, her eyes wide. He could hear her harsh breathing from where he sat. George knelt beside her, and kept trying to take her into his arms, but she resisted every attempt.

Harry stood and helped Professor Flitwick to his feet.

"Sorry, professor," he said. "But...what happened?"

"That´s a good question, Harry," Professor Flitwick said. "Perhaps the two of you were just too close, spatially. Or perhaps the element of Confundus Brenna incorporated into her charm - to quiet both of your subconscious minds, you know - wasn´t strong enough. What exactly did you experience, Harry?"

The tiny professor looked up at Harry, the only thing in his eyes curiosity. Harry had to look away, turning back to Brenna and George, still kneeling by the window. Brenna didn´t seem to have heard Flitwick´s assessment; Harry could see her lips moving, but she seemed turned in upon herself. She didn´t even seem to notice George as he helped her to stand, then released her so she could walk forward.

As she neared Harry, he could finally hear what she was muttering. "I will not run. I will not run."

Harry stared at her in confusion. He had no idea why she would feel like she had to run from him, but as he opened his mouth to ask her, he was distracted by Professor Flitwick reaching up to touch his arm.

"Harry?" he said, then added, "Why don´t we all sit down."

Harry and George arranged chairs for the four of them in a loose semi-circle. Brenna sat down in one as though she hardly realized it was there, and Professor Flitwick climbed up into another, then turned his inquisitive look upon Harry.

"Erm..." Harry said, but then paused. He wasn´t at all comfortable with talking about this, but he supposed if Brenna didn´t mind, he had no right to, either. Besides, if he didn´t tell them what had happened, the experiment would have been simply a waste of time. After a last glance at Brenna, which she didn´t return, he continued.

"I did hear Brenna´s voice in my head, like she was talking to me. Asking a question, I think," he added, frowning. What exactly she had said was fading quickly, lost in everything else that had come from her mind to his.

"That´s good, Harry," Flitwick said, nodding his head briskly. "It´s much more than has happened before." He turned a reproachful look up on George as he said this, then turned back to Harry. "That wasn´t everything, though, was it?"

"No," Harry said. "I think...I think it was a series of memories...being sorted into Ravenclaw...the Yule Ball...both of them...getting an owl from George...Snape taking away points...turning my teacher´s hair blue - no, wait, that´s my memory, not Brenna´s." He stared straight ahead, trying to sort out his thoughts. Suddenly, he noticed something he never had before: Professor Flitwick had his own version of the Weasley clock on the back wall of his classroom. His version had hundreds of blue and bronze hands, almost all of them clumped together at "Studying", "Eating," or "Sleeping". There were a few outliers sitting on "Detention" and "You Don´t Want to Know", but only one on "Desperately Needing Your Help". Harry couldn´t help but wonder if Professor McGonagall had a similar clock and, if so, how many times his, Ron´s, and Hermione´s hands had rested on one of the two last spaces.

"Harry?" Professor Flitwick´s voice said from much closer than Harry expected, making him jump. He tore his gaze away from the clock to see the professor standing on his chair, which was now right next to Harry´s. He held his wand in one hand.

"George reported the same difficulty with seperating his memories from Brenna´s," Flitwick said. "I have a charm that will help, if you´ll allow me." He gestured with his wand towards Harry´s head.

"Yes, please," Harry said, nodding his head vigorously. He really didn´t enjoy remembering putting on lip gloss or kissing George. Not to mention some things that almost made him resigned to not having a family. "No offense, Brenna," he added, craning his neck to look at her. She turned pink, and the wan smile she gave him was brief, but at least she met his eyes.

Flitwick smiled at him, touched the tip of his wand to Harry´s head, and murmured something so quietly that Harry couldn´t quite hear it, even though he was so close. Harry felt a tugging sensation, almost as though his brain was being pulled in several directions at once inside his skull, and he closed his eyes to try to lessen the dizziness he felt. He couldn´t quite tell what the charm was doing to his mind, which was odd, but just out of comprehension he could feel a sorting, or an organizing, or maybe a separating. He wasn´t sure, but anything had to be better than not being entirely certain if the memory he had of breath-taking kisses in the darkened library was his or Brenna´s. He hoped it was his, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn´t, because he knew Ginny wasn´t taller than he was. He knew the memory of receiving a perfect mark on a Potions essay wasn´t his, but at the same time, it felt like his, and that was just wrong.

Suddenly, Professor Flitwick snapped his fingers near Harry´s ear, and the tugging pulled taut, then snapped as well. He´d been right - he hadn´t kissed Ginny in the library, not yet, at least. And Snape still hated him enough to never give him a perfect mark, even if he deserved it, which he never did, anyway. The world stopped wobbling, and Harry opened his eyes with a sigh.

"Thanks, professor," he said. "That´s much better."

"You´re welcome, Harry," Flitwick said, hopping down from the chair and walking over to Brenna. "How are you, my dear?" he asked, patting her arm and smiling up at her.

She smiled back, almost as though she couldn´t help it.

"I´ll be fine, professor," she said, "just as soon as I figure out what´s wrong with this charm. I don´t understand it."

"I don´t either, but I don´t think right now is the time to worry about it. Let´s both sleep on it, and then at our next class, we´ll talk about what might have gone wrong. Right now, I think you need to put it out of your mind."

Brenna just stared at him, and Harry had to turn a snort of laughter into a cough. Despite having taught at Hogwarts for years, including during the last Voldemort war, Professor Flitwick had somehow managed to keep an amazingly optimistic outlook on life. Harry envied him, and from the memories Brenna had sent to him, he suspected that she did, too. She didn´t say anything like that, though; she just smiled at her head of house, and agreed with him. Then she did something that surprised Professor Flitwick almost as much as it did Harry; she bent down and kissed his high, domed forehead. Flitwick squeaked, then waved a hand at all three of them, shooing them out of the room.

As the three of them walked down the corrider, Harry tried to think of something to say. He couldn´t remember a time when he´d ever felt more awkward - not nervous, or apprehensive, just awkward. Professor Flitwick´s charm had helped him organize the memories in his head into two categories, his own and Brenna´s, but they were all still there. He remembered playing hide and seek in a hay-loft and saying his prayers to his father just as well as he remembered being beaten up by Dudley and the spiders in the cupboard under the stairs. He almost wished that he could submerge himself into some of her memories of things he had never had, but he felt too guilty to do that.

"Harry, could I talk to you?" Brenna asked suddenly, breaking the strange-feeling silence.

Harry just nodded, and she turned and opened the door to an empty classroom. It was a Muggle Studies classroom, and Harry looked around, surprised to see a large collection of Muggle toys spread out around the room. He´d never expected to see jump ropes, Star Wars action figures, or hula hoops at Hogwarts. Brenna walked over to one of the desks, picked up the Rubik´s cube that was lying on it, and sat down while beginning to fiddle with it.

"George," she said, without looking up.

George looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged. "Well, if you´re determined to rob the cradle, not much I can do about it," he said, not taking his eyes off of her until she finally looked at him and gave him a quick grin. He then reached over and rubbed his knuckles in Harry´s hair, though he must have known that couldn´t really make it look any worse, and left the room.

Brenna returned her gaze to the Rubik´s cube, which, Harry noticed, she was quickly and efficiently solving.

"Harry, I´m really sorry for what I did to you," she said, still watching her fingers. "I honestly didn´t think that would happen, but that´s no excuse. I don´t have any right to burden you with my memories."

Harry watched her, amazed. She knew - she knew - what he was burdened with, and she worried about adding to it. It continually amazed him, this caring that he received from so many people.

"That´s all right," he said slowly. "I agreed to do it, you know."

"Yes," she said, suddenly raising her head and looking him in the eye. Then, she shook her head, sighed, and looked back down.

"And...you know, some of those memories were...nice," Harry said.

A light flush spread across Brenna´s cheeks. "Which ones?" she asked, slightly breathlessly.

Harry had to laugh. "Not those," he said, and watched her cheeks turn even pinker. Then, he sobered. "Just...it´s nice to be able to remember having a mum."

Brenna laughed, a sharp, twisted sound. "Even my mum?"

Harry nodded. "Even your mum. Any mum."

"Oh," she said. She´d finished solving the Rubik´s cube, and she put it, perfectly color-coded and organized, on the desk next to her. She hopped off the desk and walked over to him. Slowly, she reached up to gently trace the scar on his forehead. He held quite still, even though he usually didn´t like people touching his scar.

"I´m glad those memories give you comfort," she said. Her voice was slightly hoarse, and Harry had the sudden fear that she was going to cry. He still didn´t move, not wanting to set her off, since he hadn´t a clue what he should do if she did.

Luckily, she didn´t. Instead, she smiled up at him, patted his arm, and said, "I´ll see you tomorrow, Harry." She turned and began to leave the room, but before she closed the door behind her, Harry spoke.

"Brenna, why did you tell yourself not to run, back there?" he asked.

She paused, looking back at him, her hand still on the doorknob.

"Because it´s what I do," she said, then closed the door carefully behind her.

Harry stood and stared at the closed door for a moment, then put his hand up to touch his scar. He closed his eyes, reached back into memory, and heard the soft, clear tones of a mother singing a lullaby.

The next few days were too busy to think about new memories or intriguing Ravenclaws, and one morning, Harry was shaken from a sound sleep by a very excited Ron.

"C´mon, Harry," he said, as he tried to pull on his shirt at the same time he brushed his hair, "It´s the Slytherin match today, y´know."

Harry watched him with sleepy amusement. "Yeah, I know," he said, climbing out of bed and rummaging in his trunk for clean socks. It actually felt nice to do that - Dobby was usually there waiting for him to wake up, or waking him up, and he rarely had the chance to do simple tasks like this himself anymore. But Ron´s enthusiasm for Quidditch exceeded Dobby´s for Harry, and the two boys slipped down to the common room before anyone else in the dormitory stirred.

No one was in the common room, and though Harry had to admit he was sorry not to see Ginny, he knew he couldn´t expect her to be up at the crack of dawn just because he had a match at mid-morning. After all, he wouldn´t be awake yet, either, if he´d had his own say in the matter. Ron led the way out the portrait hole and down to the Great Hall, rapidly running through strategies as he went. Harry mostly tuned him out; they´d covered their strategies extremely well in their practices, and, besides, he was still sleepy. When they reached the Great Hall, they found it almost deserted. A few Ravenclaws were already there, their books spread out in front of their plates, and Angelina Johnson sat at the Gryffindor table. Ron immediately made his way over to her and sat down next to her, not missing a beat in his conversation with himself. Angelina stared at him for a moment, then joined the conversation without any trouble. Harry just ate his breakfast, letting the talk roll over and through him. Once he´d finished, he moved his plate out of the way and put his head down on his arms, thinking that at least he could close his eyes, even though he knew he wouldn´t fall asleep in the middle of the Great Hall.

Suddenly, a hand shook him awake, and he heard Ron say, "C´mon, mate, it´s time." He took his head off his arms to see Ginny and Hermione sitting across from him, grinning.

"Harry, who´s Aine?" Hermione asked, causing him to gasp and turn wildly to Ginny.

"You were talking in your sleep," she said. Her voice sounded flat and tight.

"She´s Brenna´s sister," Harry said quickly. "I suppose I was dreaming her..." he trailed off, trying to remember the dream. "What did I say?"

Hermione opened her mouth to tell him, but Ginny cut her off.

"It doesn´t matter," she said, sounding much better, suddenly. Harry had told all three of them about the failed charm as soon as he´d come back from the session. Now, Ginny reached across the table and traced a line down his cheek, and when Harry´s hand followed hers, he realized that he had a sleep-line from the sleeve of his robe. He grinned sheepishly at her and rolled his eyes towards her brother, who was hopping from one foot to the other in his excitement. Ginny and Hermione both laughed.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione said.

"Not that you need it," Ginny said. "Go show Malfoy how to be a real Seeker." Her voice twisted slightly on Malfoy´s name, but when Harry looked concerned, she shook her head and smiled at him. She made shooing motions with her hands, and Ron tugged on Harry´s arm, so he contented himself with merely smiling back, hoping that that was enough.

When the whole Gryffindor team was gathered, in their Quidditch robes and clutching their brooms, Angelina stood in front of them and cleared her throat.

"All right, team," she said. "This is Slytherin, and we´re going to beat them. Let´s do it!" She nodded decisively, then started towards the door.

"That´s it?" Fred said.

"That was pathetic," George said.

"It was obvious," Fred said.

"It was pointless," George said.

"It was...short," Fred said.

They looked at each other for a moment.

"I liked it!" they both said, then shouldered their brooms and marched out after Angelina. The rest of the team followed, fighting smiles until they realized that Angelina was grinning, too.

They marched out onto the field to the cheers of three-quarters of the crowd. As always, everyone wanted Slytherin to lose, even though the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs knew that if Gryffindor won this match, they basically had the Quidditch cup locked up for yet another year. Harry looked up to the usual Gryffindor section of the stands, but had a hard time finding it, because not only Gryffindors sat there. The normal sea of red and gold scarves was broken up by people wearing blue and bronze, and yellow and black. He finally picked out Ginny and Hermione, sitting in a multi-hued crowd. Ginny had Brenna on one side, and Hermione sat next to Theo. It looked as though they were all gripping hands. He also noticed Dobby and Winky sitting high up in the stands, little Gryffindor scarves around their necks, and he hoped that Dobby wouldn´t feel like he had to `help´ Harry in any way during the match. He didn´t see Remus anywhere, and, though he peered at every shadowy corner he could find, he didn´t see a big, black dog, either. He tried not to let that bother him - he knew Sirius and Remus would be there if they could. Miss Stuart was sitting with the teachers, wearing her own Gryffindor scarf, and she waved at Harry. Snape sat nearby, an even deeper than usual sneer on his face, which Harry hoped was because of the support for Gryffindor from most of the school. He also wondered what Ginny thought of this overwhelming hatred of Slytherin, but he didn´t have long to think about it, as Madam Hooch had the captains shake hands, and then blew her whistle.

Harry kicked off into the air, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure and rightness he always felt when he flew. He squinted around for the Snitch, trying to keep watch on the Chasers at the same time. Some of Angelina´s strategies involved using him as diversionary tactics, and, though he was proud that she trusted him enough to catch the Snitch even when busy, he knew he had a difficult match ahead of him. He hoped that listening to Lee Jordan´s commentary would help.

"And Katie Bell has the Quaffle, heading for goal - nice bludger work there by Fred or George Weasley, don´t know which. You know, they really should wear different hats or something, so I can tell them apart --"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall said. "Keep to the match!"

"Sorry, professor. Bell tosses the Quaffle to Johnson - pretty Porksoff Ploy, there - and Johnson´s now heading for goal, oh, no, nice stop by Slytherin Keeper Millicent Bulstrode. New this year, and quite...erm...solid."

"Jordan!"

Harry grinned, remembering Hermione being held under Millicent Bulstrode´s armpit at the infamous dueling club, their second year. She certainly was solid, but she was also turning out to be an excellent Keeper, and Angelina was worried about her.

"Just goes to show, Slytherin beats Weasleys any day, doesn´t it, Potter?" Malfoy shouted.

Harry could almost hear Ginny in his head, chanting, "Ignore him, ignore him." Besides, he realized that Angelina was beginning the Griffiths Attack Formation, so he dove towards the play without even looking at Malfoy.

"And Potter dives, has he seen the Snitch?" Jordan said. "He seems to be swerving in and around the Chasers - I can´t see who has the Quaffle - oh, it´s Alicia Spinnet - stunningly beautiful, she is, too --"

"JORDAN!"

"And Gryffindor scores!"

Harry flew back up to hover over the action again, his eyes darting around for any signs of the Snitch. Malfoy seemed to have just watched him as he flew among the Chasers, instead of taking advantage of his absence to look for the Snitch. Angelina had been counting on that. A Bludger came hurlting up towards him, but he dodged it easily, and George winked at him as he flew past to intercept it.

The match continued that way, with Harry occasionally entering the fray to help out the Chasers, and, every time, Malfoy watched what he was doing, instead of looking for the Snitch. Harry could tell that the rest of the Slytherin team wasn´t happy with Malfoy, by the looks they were giving him, but even with Angelina´s new strategies, the game remained close, because of Millicent´s good play. Harry could almost feel Ron´s frustration from the goal posts, and when he´d executed a tricky maneuver Angelina had invented that involved flying in between Katie, who had the Quaffle, and Millicent, very close to the edge of the scoring area, he could hear Ginny´s voice calling his name above everyone else´s. He grinned, especially when he saw Malfoy scowl. Oddly, the game was very clean - usually Slytherin cheated every chance they could, making Madam Hooch stop play with foul after foul, but not today. Harry couldn´t help but be impressed at Slytherin´s new captain, a sixth year named Geraden Gard.

Malfoy wasn´t, though, and he took it out on Harry.

"So, Potter, I couldn´t help noticing Weasley´s wrists sticking out of his stupid jumper," he said. "Have they run out of enough money even to buy yarn?"

Harry willed himself to ignore him. He kept his eyes on the field and saw Katie score another goal. He forced his teeth to unclench.

Malfoy manuevered his broom closer.

"You know," he said, taking one hand off of his broom and holding it dramatically to his head, "I think you should help them out, Potter. You have all that money...why should your best friend´s family not benefit?"

Harry darted a quick look at him, mostly in shock that Malfoy would forget the match this much. He wasn´t even looking for the Snitch; he was completely focused on Harry. He seemed to misinterpret Harry´s look, because he kept talking.

"What a good thing your parents died, eh, Potter?"

Harry still kept his eyes on the match, but he felt his face reddening, and he was almost glad that a Bludger swept through the air at that point, almost hitting him. When he´d dodged it, he was able to ask, through gritted teeth, "What do you mean, Malfoy?"

"Now you have all that money, and you can help out the destitute. Say, maybe you already are!"

Harry couldn´t help himself; he gave a short bark of laughter. "Malfoy, you have no idea," he said. The Weasleys would never let him help, especially Ron. He wanted to - he wanted so much to repay them for everything they´d done for him - but he knew that, not only would they refuse any money he offered, but also that money could never truly equal the love and acceptance they´d lavished on him.

As usual, Malfoy misunderstood him.

"Really," he drawled, his voice so full of anticipatory glee that Harry actually looked at him, wondering what he would say. When Malfoy saw that he had Harry´s attention, he shrugged and started polishing his broom handle with his sleeve. In the back of Harry´s mind, he thought how strange it was that they were having this conversation in the middle of a Quidditch match. He could hear the cheers and groans of the crowd as a Slytherin Chaser managed to score on Ron. Finally, Malfoy looked up.

"You´re already helping out the Weasleys?" he said. "How lucky they are to have such a pretty daughter, don´t you think?"

Harry gaped at him, not following his train of thought at all. Malfoy laughed at him.

"So, Potter, how much are you paying Ginny, anyway?"

Suddenly, everything in the world turned red, except for Malfoy´s laughing face. Forgetting the match, forgetting that they were fifty feet up in the air, Harry shrieked, "How dare you?" and launched himself at Malfoy. He had a glimpse of Malfoy´s smirk before he dodged out of his way, and he could hear his laugh as he shot past him and almost out of bounds. The crowd gasped, then settled down again as Harry turned back towards the center of the pitch.

Harry knew that he was being stupid, knew that the match was more important than any empty insults Malfoy could hurl at Ginny, but he couldn´t help himself. He launched himself at Malfoy again, but again he missed. This time, though, in the middle of his laugh, Malfoy gave a gasp, and by the time Harry turned back around, he was already diving for the Snitch.

Harry instantly dove after him, but he knew it was probably too late. He could hear Lee´s commentary, which was spot on, as usual.

"M-Malfoy´s diving for the Snitch, with Potter on his tail," he said, his voice slightly hollow. "´Course, they both have Firebolts now, and that´s such a fast broom that the one who gets the first jump usually...Potter can do it, though, don´t worry."

"Jordan!"

All right, not always spot on, Harry thought. He could feel how far behind he was, and the sight of Malfoy´s back in front of him made him more furious than ever. How dare Malfoy say that about Ginny? As though he would - as though she would! She was much too good for that, too...oh, the notion was so silly that Harry knew he shouldn´t be this angry, and yet he was. His whole world was focused on one thing - getting to Malfoy and making him pay for what he´d said. He´d pay...oh, he´d pay...he´d eat dirt in front of Ginny when Harry was done with him...that stupid smirk would be wiped off his face for good...Ginny would be so happy...Ginny...

Suddenly, Harry felt an ocean of power inside his head, pushing through him, fighting to break free. Without thinking about it, without really remembering where that power might have come from, Harry opened the floodgates in his mind. His broom shot forward, moving so fast he almost lost his grip on the handle. He easily caught up with Malfoy now, and he let go of the broom with one hand, trying to reach Malfoy´s throat. His hand closed around something.

"And Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!"

A moment later, Harry was mobbed by red and gold blurs. He tried to break free to reach Malfoy, but Angelina had him in a strangle hold, and by the time she calmed down enough to let go, Malfoy had disappeared, along with the rest of the Slytherin team. Harry stared down at the Snitch, still clasped in his hand. He´d won. He´d beaten Malfoy at Quidditch, even though he hadn´t been trying. Funny how the thought of the victory made his mouth feel like sandpaper.

"Harry!"

He turned and caught a mouthful of bushy, brown hair as Hermione threw herself at him. Sometime during the match, her braid had either come undone, or been torn undone, because her hair had never looked wilder. Ron didn´t seem to care, though, as he picked her up and whirled her around in his happiness. Harry looked around for Ginny, hoping that she hadn´t noticed his confrontation with Malfoy.

She stood a little ways away, with Theo and Katie next to her. So much for that hope. When he turned towards her, she came forward, her eyebrows lifted.

"Congratulations, Harry," she said, standing very close to him, but not touching him. The wild celebration swirled around them.

Harry swallowed. "Thanks," he said.

"So," she said, reaching up and tugging the collar of his robes straight, "what were you and Malfoy doing up there?"

"Seeker tactics?" Harry said, hoping to be able to leave it at that.

She looked up at him, her brown eyes open and trusting, and he knew he couldn´t.

"He was just saying...stuff," he said.

"Stuff?"

"Stuff. Ginny..." He trailed off, looking a question down at her.

Slowly, she nodded, then put her hands on his shoulders and stood on tiptoe.

"I´m glad you beat him," she said, and kissed him.

Harry heard whistles and catcalls from the crowd that still surrounded them, but he didn´t care. Her skin and hair felt chilled under his fingers, but her lips were warm, and the warmth spread from them, through his, and to every part of his body.

"Oi, Potter! You can´t snog my sister in the middle of the Quidditch pitch!"

Harry and Ginny broke apart at the unmistakable sound of a Weasley defending his sister´s honour, but Fred´s tone had sounded more amused than angry. Harry looked around to see most of Gryffindor and many Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs smiling appreciatively at him. He turned back to Ginny to see how she was reacting, and found her grinning at him. He smiled back, feeling suddenly happy and carefree. What did he care about Malfoy, anyway?

"Harry, can we talk?"

And, just as suddenly, he came back down to earth. It was Theo, and Harry knew exactly what he was going to say. He told Ginny he´d meet her in the common room, and picked up his broom, which he couldn´t even remember having dropped. Suddenly, he realized that he was practically trembling, and guessed it was reaction from the controntation with Malfoy. He walked slowly, so he didn´t give away how shaky his legs felt, and he and Theo wandered a little way away from the rapidly dispersing crowd.

"Harry," Theo started, but Harry interrupted him.

"I´m sorry, Theo, I know I shouldn´t have done that," he said quickly. "I didn´t really know what I was doing when I did it. I was just so angry..." He trailed off, staring out and around the pitch. It amazed him how quickly his anger flared at the thought of someone insulting Ginny. Once again, he hadn´t even thought of magic; all he´d thought about was getting his hands on Malfoy. It had been instinctual, and it had left him feeling drained.

"I know," Theo said.

Harry brought his gaze back from the goal posts to stare at him.

"You - you know?"

"Of course I know. Professor Sinistra warned me that something like this would probably happen, but it wasn´t really necessary. I´m just glad it didn´t happen during your next match."

My next match? Harry thought. Oh, right, Hufflepuff.

"It won´t, Theo, I promise. But...can you block your power off, just in case?"

Theo gave him a quick smile, but shook his head.

"It´s just there, all the time. You think you had problems with random magic, growing up - imagine if you had a younger brother with whom you could link to create even more havoc. Believe me, if there were a way to stop people from tapping into me, I would have found it. No, you´ll just have to learn to stop yourself, Harry. If my brothers can do it, so can you."

Harry nodded. Control, that´s what he needed. He´d have to learn to control his anger, or at least to manage it. Suddenly, he smiled. Ginny believed that he could do it, and he believed in Ginny.

"I am sorry, though," he said, turning back to Theo.

"Don´t worry about it, Harry," Theo said. "Just don´t do it again, now that you know the temptation. You had to feel that yourself - I couldn´t warn you about it." He patted Harry on the back, making him stagger. When Harry recovered, he saw Theo looking back across the pitch towards the changing rooms, where a lone figure stood.

"I wish you could come to the party," he said suddenly. "You and Brenna, and...everyone who supported us. It doesn´t seem fair, somehow."

Theo flashed him a grin. "Don´t worry, Harry. We´ll have our own celebration. And don´t forget, you haven´t won the Cup yet - you still have to get past Hufflepuff!"

"That´s right," Harry said, feeling a strange happiness bubbling up inside him as they started walking back across the pitch. "I hear tell they have a pretty good side, too. Any tips you can give me?"

"You wish, Potter," Theo said. They´d reached the changing room doors now, and Katie smiled at them both as they approached.

"Ron´s waiting for you, Harry," she said. Suddenly, she reached up and put her hands over Theo´s ears. "You know that was a brilliant catch, right?" She grinned at him, then tugged on Theo´s arm. "C´mon, it´s cold out here."

Theo let her tug futilely for a moment, watching her with tender amusement. Harry looked away, feeling like an intruder, so he didn´t see Theo´s final pat on his back coming. He caught himself on the doorframe, and then made his way inside, shaking his head as he went.

Ron greeted him with enthusiasm, seemingly so caught up in reliving the match that he forgot to question him about Malfoy. Or maybe Ron had been so busy himself that he hadn´t even noticed the confrontation above him. Harry hoped so, but he knew he couldn´t hope that Hermione hadn´t. She´d been over-excited after the match, but he knew she´d say something later.

After they´d climbed up the last flight of stairs to the tower, though, Ron paused before giving the Fat Lady the password.

"Who was it Malfoy insulted, Harry?" he asked. "Your family, or Ginny?"

Harry stared at him. Ron looked back, with the same trusting gaze Ginny had given him earlier. They trusted him, enough to ask the question, but to accept it if he didn´t want to tell him. They knew him, too, knew that he wouldn´t have acted the way he had without provocation. They had no idea how much that meant to him.

"Both," he said.

Ron held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded and opened the portrait hole.