Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Eleven:

Great balls of fire

When Harry descended the stairs to the common room the next morning, he unsurprisingly found Ginny undergoing what appeared to be a very thorough interrogation by Ron. The discussion between the siblings was anything but subtle that much was certain, and the students that hadn't yet gone down to breakfast were giving them a wide berth clearly anxious to stay out of the line of fire. Both Weasleys were in fact so engrossed in their heated argument that neither of them noticed Harry approaching.

Ginny was sitting in the couch by the fire with her arms demonstratively crossed and a stony expression on her normally so cute face. Ron however was pacing angrily in front of her, every part of his body radiating a mixture of confused rage and inquisition.

"Really, Ginny," Harry heard Ron spitting venomously, "do you honestly expect me to believe this cock and bull story you are feeding me? Walking in your sleep, I tell you. Surely you can cough up a better lie than that?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Ginny spat back. She was giving her brother a scowling glare and her eyes were almost black with fury. "I mean, Harry walked in his sleep last year, didn't he? I believe the Fat Lady can vouch for that."

"Leave Harry out of this, Ginny," fumed Ron. "I'm having a flipping hard time believing that you sleepwalked all the way down to the library without getting caught by Filch or that wretched cat of his. You need your full wits about you to accomplish such a feat and I'll be damned if you managed that in your sleep."

Ginny didn't dignify him with an answer and instead spitefully began to study her nails. Ron's tirade however was far from finished.

"What were you doing sneaking off to the library in the middle of the night anyway? And don't you even try to deny it; Hermione told me that's were she found you." Ron gave his sister a piercing stare. "Besides, if you simply were sleepwalking, how come you didn't tell Hermione that and save Gryffindor from loosing twenty points, not to mention avoiding the unpleasantness of detention with McGonagall?"

Ginny just continued to glare at Ron without responding.

"Hah!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly. "I got you there, didn't I? So tell me, what were you doing out of the tower at twelve o'clock in the night? As if I can't guess..."

Ginny suddenly jumped to her feet, a scared look on her face. "What do you mean by that?" Her voice was a bit shaky Harry noticed. Scared to let anyone know about your boyfriend are you he thought miserably?

Ron snorted and gave her a disapproving look. "Don't take me for a fool, missy. I've noticed how much time you and that Max character spend together. It's rather obvious that you were on your way to a secret rendezvous (he grimaced as he said this) with the sodding prat. I suspect a hearty doze of snogging was on the agenda, as appalling as that thought is."

The word "snogging" was spat out in pure disgust and for once Harry felt himself agreeing one hundred percent with Ron's verbal bashing. Normally (though he never voiced this) he thought Ron had a tendency to overreact and make things out to be worse than they really were. This time however they were in perfect agreement: Ginny definitely shouldn't be hanging around that prissy German bloke!

"Honestly, Ginny that guy is nothing but trouble, and you're far too young to start dating anyway."

Ron was still seething and his pacing had intensified as he spoke so that he was almost sprinting to and fro in front of the fireplace. "I expect mum will have kittens if she ever finds out about this," he continued threateningly. "And unless you stop... fraternizing with this guy I swear I'll be more than happy to give her the whole story!"

Clearly Ron had expected this to make Ginny erupt into a long yelling session, and truthfully so had Harry. He was therefore quite surprised to see her looking... well relieved when confronted with Ron's accusations. A second later the relieved expression was gone, replaced by a furious one, but Harry was quite sure of what he'd seen. Ron however seemed to have missed it completely because he kept bugging her about Max for ten more minutes, adding to his already lengthy list of threats the promise of subjecting her to a series of Fred and George's latest inventions if she didn't put a stop to the budding relationship.

This again made Ginny launch into a long speech about how Ron should just mind his own business for once (the point being made with the aid of some rather colourful words and phrases making even Ron look slightly aghast) and eventually Ron gave up and stormed off to breakfast and soon thereafter Ginny stomped up the stairs to her dormitory.

Harry however hung back for a few more minutes. He felt oddly puzzled. Why had Ginny looked so relieved when Ron had accused her of being off on a snogging-session with Max? Was that normal? Somehow Harry didn't think so...

After some intense pondering he'd reasoned there to be only two plausible reasons for Ginny's strange reaction. Firstly she might've been relieved to have Ron figure it out so that she wouldn't have to go sneaking around any more. The only problem with that scenario was that she'd actually refused to admit to this fact, even after he'd confronted her about it in the bluntest way possible.

The other possible reason to why she'd looked relieved could therefore just as well be that Ron had been completely off in his assumption. This in return also implied that Ginny hadn't been off snogging the insufferable German git after all, something, which Harry found immensely pleasing. On the other hand this also meant that none of them really knew why Ginny had been out wandering late at night like that.

Realizing that he was nowhere nearer an explanation to Ginny's strange nightly quest, Harry headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, the question about what Ginny was hiding still lingering heavily on his mind.

Harry continued pondering this during breakfast. In fact he was in such a complete state of contemplation that he didn't notice Hermione and Ron snickering and laughing at him from across the table. He simply continued staring at a point far into space, absentmindedly spooning cereal into his mouth while looking slightly glazed. The other two continued exchanging amused glances and it wasn't until Harry tried to add pumpkin juice to his cornflakes that Hermione finally brought him out of his trance.

"Mission control to Potter. Come in Potter," she said loudly while waving a hand in front of his face. Nothing happened. Ron chuckled evilly and gave Harry a friendly, yet painful, kick under the table.

"Oy, Harry! What's with you today? You haven't been sniffing Dean's socks have you?" Harry responded with an unintelligent "Huh?" and Ron and Hermione doubled over with laughter.

"Honestly Harry, that look on your face was priceless," Hermione giggled amusedly. "Whatever were you thinking about?"

Screwing his face into a smile of sorts, Harry inwardly debated whether or not to tell them about his concern for Ginny's nightly mission. Ron obviously thought she'd been off with Max and although he didn't like the prat much, maybe it was better letting him believe that rather then having him torture his sister again? Ron might even go as far as to actually owl his mother, something Harry knew wouldn't go down well with Ginny. He finally decided not to say anything to them just yet and instead try to talk to Ginny about it himself.

"Oh, nothing special," he answered shaking his daze and trying to sound casual. "Just thinking about the upcoming match against Ravenclaw. It's next Saturday, you know."

Both Ron and Hermione seemed to believe this excuse and soon Ron had roped him into a vivid discussion about Quidditch strategies. Ron was enthusiastically explaining some new ones he'd come up with that he thought might be good for the team, and Harry encouraged him to tell George about them. Ron however just snorted at Harry's suggestion. He and George were not yet back on the friendliest of terms after the unfortunate tryout where Ron had been rejected as Keeper, but Harry's heartfelt appraisal of Ron's suggested tactics eventually won him over. After much coaxing he reluctantly promised to talk to George later.

The rest of the week passed without any extraordinary events taking place. Harry spent most evenings out on the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the team practicing intensely before the match scheduled for the following Saturday. Ron had as promised tried to tell his brother about the tactics he'd drawn up but George had brushed him off like a troublesome bug and told him to stop bothering him until after the match. Needless to say Ron had returned to the dormitory fuming and cursing.

Harry had done his best to calm him down, explaining that George was probably just nervous and edgy about the upcoming match and didn't really mean to offend him. Ron however simply muttered something about not ever being taken seriously by anyone and demonstrably went to bed unusually early. Feeling that Ron really had met more setbacks than he deserved lately, Harry followed his example and climbed into bed, resolving to speak to George personally after the match.

*

Over the next couple of days Harry kept a watchful eye on Ginny in hope of finding out more about her mysterious trip to the library the weekend before. Regrettably she didn't do or say anything that gave him any clues to what she'd been up to. After a day's worth of not so subtle probing, Hermione eventually gave in and reluctantly told Harry in all confidence that even though she was still totally clueless to what Ginny had been doing roaming the corridors in the middle of the night, at least she'd been in her dormitory every night since (as the responsible Prefect she was, Hermione had of course made it a point to check on her every night). Harry was relieved to hear this but it still didn't shed any light on the mystery. A secret snog-session with Max the jerk-off was still the most likely explanation, he concluded feeling strangely melancholy.

After having spent more than a couple of restless nights mulling the topic of Ginny and her nightly meetings, Harry had decided enough was enough. He was not going to spend another minute silently debating the issue nor was he to miss more sleep over it. He didn't even like her that much, so why should he spend so much time and effort scrutinizing her every move?

It had been extremely easy to reach this conclusion during a particularly boring History of Magic class with Professor Binns droning on in the background about some angry trolls, ogres or whatever it was he talked about these days. Harry, like the rest of the class (save Hermione of course) was equally clueless to the topic of the lessons they received as Binns was of their presence.

But if his resoluteness had been at its peak at that time, it certainly was wavering now. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had just finished a rather windy training session (the Quaffle had blown away into Hagrid's pumpkin patch at one point and they'd spent half an hour searching for it) and they, meaning Harry and Ginny, were now heading slowly towards the changing rooms. The rest of the team had as soon as King George had given them permission scurried up the castle at top speed clearly eager to find shelter from the blustery weather.

Harry had deliberately hung back hoping to get a few uninterrupted minutes with Ginny. This week marked her turn to pack up the balls and return them to Madam Hooch's office, and she was presently having a few problems pushing an uncooperative Bludger back into its restraints.

"Need a hand?" Harry asked casually just as Ginny let out a frustrated cry. "Please," she answered thankfully. "This blasted thing won't cooperate in the slightest. I think Fred, the sod, has tampered with it again. He has such a lovely sense of humour, don't you think?"

"Oh yes he's very witty," Harry quipped sarcastically making Ginny chuckle. Together they eventually managed to wrestle the stubborn Bludger back into the chest. After depositing it at Madam Hooch's office, they began climbing the slope towards the castle. The conversation was easy enough. Ginny was currently engrossed in a very detailed blow-by-blow description of a complicated Chaser formation she'd just learned, but Harry was having a hard time concentrating on what she was saying.

"...and when the opposing Chaser is heading straight for me, I'm supposed to swirl counter-clockwise, rotate twice and then break hard to the left and pass the Quaffle to my right side Chaser. It's really difficult, though. Harry, are you even paying attention?"

She nudged him rather painfully in the arm and gave him a questioning stare. Harry was abruptly shaken out of his reverie. He'd been silently arguing with his inner self whether to ask Ginny about her nightly expedition or not. He knew he'd decided to let the matter drop, but for some reason it kept turning up in his mind when he least wanted it too. Knowing he wouldn't find inner peace until he knew more, he decided to get it over with.

"I'm sorry Ginny, I was miles away just now," Harry said smiling apologetically. "I didn't get much sleep last night so I'm kind of out of it today." Ginny suddenly looked very concerned. "It's not my scar," he blurted out not wanting her to worry about his nightmares. "I had to stay up late to finish an essay for McGonagall. She's turned into a madwoman this year, piling up essays faster than we're able to write."

Though she gave him a funny kind of look, Ginny seemed to accept this explanation. McGonagall's reputation as overly demanding during OWL-year was well known throughout the castle.

"So," Harry began casually, "you stayed up kind of late the other night too. Did you get a detention for wandering the corridors after curfew?" Ginny sighed deeply and shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other.

"Unfortunately yes," she answered flatly. "McGonagall was evidently shocked to hear that I'd been out of the tower at an "ungodly hour" as Hermione so eloquently put it, and gave me a detention with Filch."

She grimaced at the mention of the caretaker's name. "I spent all last evening cleaning out the old Muggle storeroom. That's where they keep all the weird Muggle artefacts that are used in Muggle Studies," she explained after seeing the blank look on Harry's face. "The room is simply filled to capacity with oddities and artefacts that would've had dad in a complete state of euphoria if he'd seen it, and I had to dust off and wash everything. It took me forever." She stopped again to shift her bag back to the other shoulder.

"Let me take that for you," Harry offered with a blush. He quickly grabbed it and swung it effortlessly over his free shoulder. Ginny protested deafeningly but Harry pretended not to hear her and just continued walking towards the castle. Ginny soon caught up with him again and he swore there was a slight blush on her cheeks. "Thanks Harry," she said softly and Harry just shrugged lightly in response though inwardly he was on fire.

"So," Harry said again, once more attempting to ease in on the subject. "Do you want to tell me exactly why Hermione found you in the library at twelve in the night a week ago?" He felt his face go warm, afraid that she's get mad at him for prying. Ginny didn't answer him straight away and an uncomfortable silence fell between them. They walked like that for a couple of minutes, none of them saying a word.

"I suppose I should take your lack of response to my question as a no, then?" Harry finally said feeling strangely disappointed. Guess she didn't trust him enough to confide in him after all. But then again had he truthfully expected her too?

"I'm sorry Harry," she whispered. "I'm not ready to talk about it right now. Maybe some other time but not now. Please don't push the matter."

"Sure, Ginny," he heard himself say in a strangely muffled voice. The rest of the walk was completed in silence.

* *

Saturday came with a clear blue sky and virtually no wind to speak off. It was the perfect condition for Quidditch and as always on a match day the Great Hall was filled with loud excited chattering. Because of the Triwizard Tournament last year the Quidditch Cup had been cancelled and everyone seemed anxious to see the Interhouse tournament back on track.

Harry felt the usual sickening feeling that always managed to settle into his stomach before a match. Knowing he probably looked rather green around the gills, he still tried to heroically force down some breakfast. After finishing half a toast and a goblet of pumpkin juice he gave up on further eating, waved goodbye to Hermione and Ron and headed down to the pitch. As he entered the changing room he found the rest of the team already there, everyone completely changed into their scarlet Quidditch robes. George was pacing frantically in front of the others looking unusually pale small drops of sweat clearly visible on his forehead.

"Finally!" he screamed out as Harry entered the room. "I was starting to wonder whether you'd show up or not."

"For Morgana's sake, stop yelling George," Harry answered irritably. He emptied his bag on the floor and picking up one of his knee protectors and instantly began lacing it up. "It's more than an hour until the game starts, you know. I thought you wanted us all to eat breakfast before the game, or was that speech you made yesterday on the importance of nutrition just another of your many jokes?"

"Ha bloody ha," George retorted sarcastically, waving for Harry hurry his changing. "Of course I want you to eat, just don't take so bloody long doing it next time. We have much to discuss and tactics to be revised so hurry up and get changed will you."

Harry rolled his eyes, finished changing quickly and sat down in the vacant spot next to Fred. George immediately launched into a long and complicated speech that apart from the usual pep talk ("Get the Snitch or die trying!") also included a very complex and very detailed game strategy that left everyone looking slightly confused. Judging by the look on everyone's faces, no one seemed to fully comprehend what exactly George meant but out of fear of making him loose his marbles completely (he'd been showing disturbing signs of extreme Wood-ishness lately), they all nodded enthusiastically giving him the thumbs up before they headed towards the pitch.

"Did you understand anything of that?" Harry heard Katie whisper to Alicia who instantly shook her head. An unwelcome feeling of foreboding had crept into the pit of Harry's stomach the moment George had lunged into that new and totally inapprehensible strategy. You just didn't spring something like this on your own team on the day of the match, Harry thought irritably as he mouthed his broom ready to fly into the stadium. George gave the signal for them to lift off and Harry pushed his uneasiness to the back of his mind.

Loud cheers from the Gryffindor stands immediately met them, gold and scarlet banners waving brilliantly in the air. The Ravenclaw team had already entered the pitch and Harry's stomach suddenly clutched violently as he laid eyes on their beautiful Seeker, Cho Chang. In the ruckus leading up the game he'd forgotten all about her.

Watching her fly round the pitch and then slow down to hover right behind Madam Hooch, Harry couldn't help but contemplate the irony of it all. Last year there would've been precious little that would make him forget about Cho. She'd haunted his thoughts and dreams, but in real life she'd done little to acknowledge his existence outside of the Quidditch pitch. Now however it looked to Harry that she was trying desperately to catch his eye. Instantly Harry turned his back to her pretending to scan the stands for Ron and Hermione.

He still remembered her grief-stricken face after Cedric had died. She'd obviously fancied him very much, and it had been all Harry's fault that he died. It didn't matter that it was technically Wormtail who'd performed the Killing Curse. If it weren't for the fact that Harry had urged Cedric to take the Cup with him, he'd still be alive. And now he had to face her again. He hadn't really talked to her at all this year, truth be told he'd done his best to avoid talking to her all together. Harry just didn't know what to say. After all he had returned alive. Cedric hadn't. How do you go about apologize for being alive, Harry wondered miserably.

George flew over to Madam Hooch who was refereeing as usual and shook hands with the Ravenclaw captain. Harry stopped to hover a little way back from his other teammates, the foreboding feeling having returned full force. He was therefore strangely unaware of someone approaching him.

"Hello Harry."

Harry nearly lost the grip on his Firebolt at the sound of a girl's voice next to him. Slowly he turned his head towards her. A horrible gut-wrenching jolt immediately hit him as his eyes slowly fell on the face of a beautiful Asian girl with long raven black hair. It was Cho.

"'Lo," Harry finally stammered, his face the colour of plum. Why had she flown over to him? Did she want to yell at him because of Cedric?

"You've been avoiding me this year, haven't you Harry?" Cho said quietly, trying hard to catch his eye. Harry didn't know how to respond. She was dead right though; he had been doing his damnedest to avoid her but somehow he couldn't bring himself to confess to this. Why did she have to spring a conversation on him like this? He didn't have the foggiest idea how to act around her, a fact that he supposed came across quite clearly seeing as he had yet to utter a single word in front of her. He opened his mouth with every intention of apologising for his childish behaviour but nothing came out. Cho smiled knowingly and put a comforting arm on Harry's shoulder.

"You don't have to answer that," she said consolingly. "But I know when I'm being shunted and you're doing a fine job of it, Harry." She smiled weakly.

"And I don't really blame you. I haven't exactly been overly keen to talk to you either," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "I'm still having problems fathoming that Cedric is gone, you know. Sometimes I even manage to convince myself that it was all just a big hoax and that he'll suddenly step into the Great Hall like nothing ever happened." She swallowed hard looking to be on the brink of crying. Harry desperately hoped she wouldn't do that.

"But then," Cho continued thickly, "then I see you and I know I'm just fooling myself. Cedric is dead and he's not coming back." A small sob escaped her mouth and she hastily wiped away a tear.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered feeling a funny cloggy feeling in his throat. He was vaguely aware of George signalling everyone to get into position, but felt oddly distracted from it all. What more could he say to her? He wanted to tell her that he was beating himself up mentally, blaming himself for persuading Cedric to take the cup with him to not being able to save him. If there was ever a person he wanted to understand and hear this, it was Cho but still not a word escaped him.

"It's alright, you don't have to say anything," she answered smiling slightly now. "I just wanted to tell you that I don't blame you for what happened last year." She was whispering now, her voice sounded kind of strangled. "Don't ever blame yourself for that, Harry. Ever."

And before Harry had even fully processed what she'd just said, she had turned her broom around and was soaring back towards the Ravenclaw end of the pitch.

"Quidditch players, please take your positions!"

Madam Hooch's brusque voice snapped everyone to attention, and shaking his head to clear the cobwebs that was cluttering his brain Harry quickly flew to his usual position hovering slightly above his team mates.

Madam Hooch had marched onto the pitch with the chest containing the four balls floating behind her. When she reached the centre of the field, she set the chest down with a flick of her wand and immediately the lid burst open. The two nasty Bludgers burst free without delay followed closely by the tiny Golden Snitch. Moments later she blew her whistle and the Quaffle was thrown up in the air. Fourteen brooms immediately left the ground, two Chasers zooming straight for the big red ball. The game was on.

"It's a pleasure and a privilege to welcome students, teachers and other stray spectators back to another Quidditch season here at Hogwarts. Madam Hooch has just blown her whistle and so the first game of the season is on. Today we have Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw and it'll be exciting to see whether Ravenclaw will be able to keep up with the reigning Cup holders of Gryffindor."

Loud cheers echoed from the Gryffindor end of the stands, while both Ravenclaws and Slytherins were booing like mad. The Hufflepuff side looked strangely unaffected, clearly unconcerned about the result knowing that they would have to play both teams anyway.

"And it's the lovely Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor that snatches the Quaffle right in front of what appears to be an already grouchy looking Roger Davies of Ravenclaw. Soaring through the air with her beautiful hair waving behind her, she's just performed a very clever move fooling the Ravenclaw Chaser. Ooh, just dodged a Bludger, nice flying, Angelina! Passes it to Katie Bell, yet another stunning Gryffindor Chaser, nice catch Katie darling!"

Lee Jordan could once again be found in his natural habitat behind the magical microphone. Though he always was an enthusiastic commentary there was still some that claimed him to be a tad bit biased towards his own house of Gryffindor. Blessed (or cursed, depending on how you looked at it) with a wicked tongue, Lee did have a slight tendency to not just produce facts and objective comments on the game. And it was probably this inclination that always made Professor McGonagall insist on sitting next to him in a desperate attempt to keep the slandering of the opposing team to an absolute minimum.

And though Lee had been off to a good start with the Gryffindor Chasers wrecking havoc with the Ravenclaw defence, it soon became quite apparent that he wouldn't have much reason to keep up his Gryffindor-friendly gloating. There was no nice way to say it really: The reigning cup-holders were putting on an appalling performance to say the least!

Harry had been following his usual tactic, which meant flying high above the others doing his damnedest to avoid both Bludgers and other players while searching for the Snitch. It was a strategy that had served him well in previous games, but today he feared that even if he should be able to catch the Snitch before Cho did, it still wouldn't be enough. Not if the rest of the team didn't pull themselves together soon, that was.

Evidently George's last minute tactics had done more damage than good. Though his intentions had probably been the best, changing around well-rehearsed game plans and formations so close to the match had clearly been more confusing than helpful. Especially the Chasers seemed to be mixing up the old and the new strategies and Alicia actually looked murderous when one of the opposing Chasers once again managed to intercept one of her passes.

Even Fred seemed to be struggling to find his usual pace today. Looking nothing short of befuddled he kept sending his twin some rather desperate looks. George on the other hand didn't seem to notice Fred's distress, as he was too busy barking orders and instructions at his misbehaving team. His screaming however didn't seem to make much difference.

Thirty measly minutes later and Ravenclaw was leading with 160 points to 0. Needless to say the Slytherin end of the stands was in a hysteric state of euphoria with the Gryffindor spectators looking equally subdued. On Dean Thomas's newly made banner the life-sized lion he'd painted on one of the sides appeared to be hiding its head in its paws, presumably out of humiliation.

Harry was fuming. Being 160 points behind also meant that if he spotted the Snitch at this point he wouldn't be able to catch it because that way Ravenclaw would still win. If the golden ball was to appear now his only option would be to make sure Cho didn't catch it either, and then go back to hoping against hope that George would sort out this tactics-knot and that bloody fast!

Another ten minutes later and Alicia had amazingly enough managed to score Gryffindor two goals something, which meant that they now had a total of 20 points. The depressing news however was that Ravenclaw was up to a whooping 180, so there was no real improvement overall.

Sick and tired of watching George fly about shouting orders at them without any visible improvement, Harry decided enough was enough. Waving like a lunatic, he tried to get George's attention asking for a time out. And that's when he saw it!

A flicker of gold was hovering just above the highest hoops over on the Ravenclaw side of the pitch. Harry's heart pounded fast and hard as he glanced surreptitiously around to see if Cho had spotted it too.

Luckily she was still soaring aimlessly around a couple of feet below him and it was quite obvious that she he hadn't seen it yet. But Harry knew it was only a matter of time before she'd spotted it too. After all her favourite strategy was keeping a close eye on him and what he was doing. She was well trained in the art of studying the opposing Seeker and knowing his own dismal acting abilities she'd probably read him like an open book within seconds. There was no time to loose. He needed a diversion of sorts; anything to get Cho's attention away from that blasted Snitch!

And before Harry really knew what he was doing he threw himself into a neck-breaking dive he'd seen, but never before attempted: The Wronski Feint.

Harry had only seen this done once before, at the Quidditch World Cup the year before. It was a highly dangerous seeker diversion and few seekers knew how to do it. Viktor Krum had done a splendid job of it though and Harry was desperate to copy it in hope of getting Cho's attention away from the Snitch that was still floating tantalizingly by the hoop.

His dive was steep and fast, and for a fleeting second Harry wondered if perhaps this had been a touch rash of him. A stunt like this would probably secure him another lengthy stay in the Hospital Wing or worst-case scenario; death.

Well, he thought indifferently as he plummeted towards the ground. It would look really stupid if he chickened out now, and besides if this dive were to be the end of it, at least Professor Trelawney would be deliriously happy finally having one of her shady prophecies about him come true.

The ground was speeding towards him at breakneck speed and Harry chanced a quick glance over his shoulder. Yes! Cho was following him. Grinning like an idiot he quickly refocused his eyes to the fast approaching ground. She obviously believed he'd spotted it! Brilliant!

As she'd been flying a way below Harry earlier, she'd sort of joined him when he spun past her in a flurry of scarlet Gryffindor robes. They were soon almost neck at neck, Harry deliberately holding back a little, subtly giving Cho the opportunity to catch up with him.

Harry's ears were drumming with sound presumably coming from the awestruck spectators. In his peripheral vision he noticed Cho giving him a quick confused look. The ground was so near they could smell the grass and still she hadn't seen the Snitch. Harry assumed it might be dawning on her by now what exactly he was playing at but it was too late. Beside him Harry heard the Ravenclaw Seeker let out a strangled sort of cry and then he quickly pulled out of the dive. He grazed the ground feeling the grass tickling his fingers as he sped along it for a few seconds. Loud gasps could be heard from the stands, and somewhere behind him Harry heard Cho hit the ground with a dull thud.

The Ravenclaws were beside themselves with fury, booing and crying out to Madam Hooch for a penalty. Knowing that he was perfectly within his right to perform a diversion such as this, Harry soared upwards and did a few loops to let out some of the tension he unintentionally had accumulated. He glanced down at the hubbub down below. Madam Hooch appeared to be giving Cho a quick once over to check for possible broken bones or other damages. He could see Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout jumping up and down in frustration on the sideline, but it didn't look like she was too badly injured. In fact she'd already scrambled to a sitting position Harry noticed with relief. He really didn't want her to get seriously injured.

"That was simply bloody marvellous!" Lee Jordan's ecstatic voice echoed over the pitch with undisguised admiration. "Harry Potter just performed an immaculate copy of the famous Wronski Feint that completely outsmarted Ravenclaw's fine looking seeker Cho Chang. None other than Viktor Krum last performed this spectacular seeker diversion during the World Cup Quidditch final last year, if I am not mistaken. Bloody unbelievable!"

The Gryffindors were once again waving flags and banners high in the air, screaming and clapping in excitement.

Harry was amazed that he'd actually managed to pull that one off! Wiping a dam of sweat of his forehead, he glanced at the hoop and was relieved to see that the Snitch had disappeared from view. Another look at Cho told him that Madam Hooch was still fussing over her but luckily Madam Pomfrey didn't seem to be needed for any advanced healing.

Soaring upwards to release some tension, Harry cursed loudly. No amount of spectacular Wronski Feints could help the fact that they were still hopelessly behind Ravenclaw and obviously something had to be done about their dismal performance if they wanted to win this game, and that fast.

And then suddenly Harry had an epiphany!

Taking shamelessly advantage of the stop in the game, he did a sharp mid-air U-turn and flew directly towards the stand where the Gryffindor students were still beside themselves with joy over his fabulous feint. Harry easily spotted Ron's flaming red hair among them and headed straight for him. He was waving frantically at Harry.

"That was bloody brilliant, Harry!" he screamed looking more thrilled than ever. "I never knew you could do that! Bloody amazing!"

Harry grinned happily at his friend's enthusiasm. "Me neither, to tell the truth. Never tried it before," he answered modestly accepting Ron's very hard-handed pats on the back with a yelp.

"Honestly Harry, you could have broken your neck," Hermione scolded in a very Mrs. Weasley-ish manner. She looked pale and worried. "It's supposed to be a game you know, a light form of entertainment for both participating teams and spectators. There's honestly no need to get yourself killed over a simple game of Quidditch no matter what your crazy captain might indoctrinate during pep-talks."

Ron looked at her with amusement. "Oh come off it, Mione. I'm pretty sure you'd risk your health too if it concerned one of your precious books. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd laid down your life to defend your precious Hogwarts: A history to the last crumpled piece of paper."

"Don't be stupid Ron," Hermione retorted coolly. "Oh, but I forgot, you can't help being stupid when it comes to Quidditch. Perhaps you've been hit to many times by stray Bludgers?"

"Better Bludgers than boring books," he replied heatedly and Harry groaned.

Ron was already showing early signs of a red face, a sure indication that he was about to launch into a shouting match with Hermione about the importance of Quidditch as apposed to books. Fearing this could easily turn ugly, Harry quickly intercepted.

"Ron," he said urgently forcing his friend's attention away from Hermione. "Please make your way down to the pitch as quickly as you can. I don't have time to explain right now but I'll make George take time out real soon and I need you to be there by then."

"What...?" Ron looked utterly bewildered but there was no time for further explanations as Cho was now back on her broom and in the air. The shrill sound of Madam Hooch's whistled drowned out the rest of Ron's bewildered questions. Swiftly Harry mounted his broom and sped off.

"Just get yourself down there. Quickly!" he screamed as he flew back towards George, intending to plea for him to call a timeout. After gesturing madly to the King for ten frustrated minutes, George finally agreed (they were now behind by a demeaning 200 points) and called out to Madam Hooch. As soon as she'd paused the game, Harry beckoned the team to follow him towards the end of the pitch were a somewhat confused Ron was standing looking more than a little sceptical.

"What's the meaning of this?" George boomed in a striking imitation of Filch when enraged. "We don't need a sodding timeout, we need to get back up there and score some goals!"

He was gesturing wildly towards the pitch almost decapitating Alicia with his Beater's bat in the process.

"And what the blazes is he doing here?" he continued with a hiss pointing to his youngest brother. "We don't need a stand-in for Keeper, Max is doing great considering none of the Chasers are sticking to the agreed defence tactics."

Katie, Alicia and Angelina instantly cried out in deepest indignation but George simply waved them off. "Shush girls, we'll discuss the tactics as soon as ickle Ronniekins has left the premises." He glared at Ron, who still looked somewhat bewildered, glared right back at him.

"He's not going anywhere, George. In fact Ron's going to save this game," Harry said matter-off-factly.

"What?" Ron and George yelled out in perfect unison. "You can't be serious..." George began sounding nothing short of appalled.

"But Harry..." Ron stammered, his ears already bright red from all the unwelcome attention, "I don't get it. How...?"

"If you'll both please shut up for a few seconds and I will explain everything," Harry said impatiently with a quick glance at his watch. They'd already wasted precious seconds arguing and Madam Hooch would blow her whistle ending the time-out any time now.

"Ron, I want you to quickly explain to everyone that aggressive attack strategy you explained to me earlier this week. I don't remember half of it now, let alone the details so it'll be much better if you could run us through it. If we go by that I think we might be able to catch up with Ravenclaw pretty quickly."

A smile was suddenly spreading across Ron's face as Harry's plan was dawning on him.

"Now wait just a minute," George said pushing Harry aside. "What do you think you're doing just taking over like this. May I remind you who the captain of this team is?"

"I know who the captain is, George but until you start taking some responsibility for the mess you've made by springing several new unfathomable tactics on us, I say it's fair for everyone to make suggestions. Unless you haven't noticed we are getting flattened back there!"

Harry was seriously staring to lose his patience now. He genuinely liked George but he was presently doing a very good impersonation of a class A prat.

"Tell me this then," said Harry looking imploringly at George. "Do you want to win or not?" "Off course I do, but..." George started but Harry abruptly cut him off before he could object.

"Then I suggest you shut up and listen to your brother!"

For a few seconds no one said a word. With a resigned groan George finally gave in and gestured for Ron to start talking. He hesitated for a split second then grabbed his wand and with a simple flick conjured up a mid-air drawing of the pitch. Quickly and breathlessly Ron launched into a short and to the point explanation of his tactic all the while gesturing madly at the drawing and indication each position with a spark from his wand tip.

As he talked Harry watched the faces of his team mates one by one light up and soon they were all nodding eagerly at Ron's proposition. When the whistle blew a little later hope and determination had replaced the previously sullen looks on their faces and even George appeared to be impressed with Ron's tactical suggestion.

And for good reason. Ron's strategy turned out a smashing success. Twenty-five minutes later Ravenclaw's monstrous lead was reduce to just fifty points and Harry was once again straining his eyes in the search for the Snitch. There would be no more need for fancy feints if it popped up now, he thought happily. If he caught it now then Gryffindor would wi.... What was that?

A blue blur had just soared past him at a lethal speed. Feeling an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach, Harry whipped his head around and sure enough; Cho was speeding after a tiny golden ball with silver wings and gaining on it by the look of things.

Knowing he had no time to loose, Harry quickly dived after her. The Snitch was fluttering approximately ten feet in front of her, and Harry knew he had to fly wicked fast if he was to stand a chance at catching it before Cho. Leaning further down on his Firebolt, he urged it to go faster. And little by little he was gaining on the other Seeker. Cho's Cleensweep was a decent enough broom by no match against his Firebolt, and soon they were neck a neck.

Flying side-by-side Harry and Cho chased the Snitch all over the pitch accompanied by loud cheers from the crowd. And then, suddenly the small golden ball turned swiftly to the right. Harry reacted first and quickly broke off to the side, Cho close behind him. But as he straightened out of the turn a mad Bludger came out of nowhere aiming straight for his head. On instinct Harry rolled over and out of the way just in time. Hearing the Bludger swoosh past him he pulled up again, searching idly for the Snitch. Cho would probably catch it now. Damn that Bludger!!

But to his utter astonishment the Snitch suddenly swooped down right in front of him, hovered for a split second and then speed off again. It must have made another turn while I was busy dodging that Bludger, Harry thought happily. Urging his broom forward he tore after it and soon it was almost within reaching distance. Feeling giddy with anticipation Harry reached out for it, stretching his fingers as far as he could and then some. The Golden Snitch fluttered and flickered tantalizingly to and fro in front of him but Harry wasn't about to let the teasing little bugger get away from him.

With a finally yank Harry threw his body forward and felt the amazingly satisfying feeling of his fingers gripping around on of the Snitch's silver wings. It fought like mad to get free but to no avail. He had it!

"Harry Potter catches the snitch! It's all over and Gryffindor wins 310 to 210!" Lee shouted ecstatically into the magical microphone and immediately the Gryffindors erupted into loud cheers and applause.

Grinning like mad Harry held the Snitch high up waving happily towards the elated Gryffindors. Soon the rest of his team mates flew over to congratulate him and Ron came sprinting onto the pitch a huge smile plastered all over his freckled face. It was highly infectious and Harry couldn't stop smiling either.

George flew up to him and slapped Harry jovially on the back. "Thanks Harry, for setting me straight," he said in a low voice careful not to let the others catch him admitting defeat. Harry smirked. "No worries George, but I think there's someone else who deserves a thank you too."

Nodding and sighing dejectedly George looked at Ron who was presently being smothered with kisses by the Chasers while Fred and Max were busily singing his praises. Next moment a busy-haired tornado pushed her way through the crowd and flung herself onto Ron.

Yes Harry thought with a laugh, this definitely was a Quidditch match to remember!

*

The party in the common room that night was legend. Fred and George procured such a large amount of Butterbeer and Honeyduke's sweets that Harry was sure they'd emptied half the stocks of Hogsmeade on their little raid. Even Hermione decided to turn a blind eye to their obvious rule breaking and threw herself into the partying with uncharacteristic fervour.

It was without comparison the best party ever, and even McGonagall who had a nasty habit of turning up and break off parties when they were just getting interesting, failed to make an appearance much to everyone's delight.

But the most memorable part was definitely when Lee Jordan suddenly out of nowhere began playing the trumpet with surprising talent and George, wearing a ridiculous looking crown, came marching down the stairs from the dormitories. Fred followed close after carrying one of the common rooms many squashy cushions with a hideously ugly sceptre balanced on top of it.

They marched in perfect step right up to a flabbergasted Ron and pulled him abruptly out of the couch making him spill liberal amounts of Butterbeer down his front.

"Young Weasley," George began in a ridiculous imitation of a haughty aristocratic tone of voice. "Today you've finally proven yourself worthy of the name Weasley by selflessly and brilliantly saving this dismal Captain's arse from public humiliation. This blatant mutiny would under normal circumstances be punished in the Filch-iest way possible. Severe beatings and pillory comes to mind as suitable chastisement, actually," George added musingly and Fred nodded in agreement.

At this point Ron looked thoroughly confounded and if George hadn't stopped mocking around and gotten to his point the next moment, Harry was certain Ron would've done a runner. Luckily though he didn't.

"Since you're not part of the Gryffindor team, I can't officially transfer my captaincy to you, esteemed brother of mine."

Ron's eyes nearly fell out of its sockets and his face so flushed it was almost blinding to look at directly.

"But though I might still be captain on paper," George continued boomingly, "I want everyone here to know that off the record we, the team, will only take orders from you. I hereby resign from the throne." He removed the makeshift crown that was perched on top of his flaming hair with much bravado and presented it to a speechless Ron.

"The king is dead, long live the new king!" George bellowed as Fred presented Ron with the sceptre. "Raise your bottles to the new king! King Ronald of Quidditch!"

Needless to say the praising of the new monarch lasted for a long, long time.

* *

The Gryffindor Common room was dark and empty; the only source of light coming from the slowly dying embers in the hearth, casting a dim flickering light on the nearest seats. Everyone was currently sound asleep in the dormitories. Everyone that is, except for one.

"Oh dear," the Fat Lady exclaimed in a muffled and sleepy voice as someone stopped in front of her and carefully scratched at her frame. "You startled me there," she continued while suppressing a yawn. "Say, what are you doing out of bed at this hour? Tut tut tut. What would the Prefects say to this?"

She eyed the cloaked figure standing in front of her disapprovingly.

"Flying Erupment," the person muttered not looking up.

"Oh well, that is the password," the fat lady said with yet another yawn. "Mind you I should report you, you know. Waking me up at such ungodly hours..."

The portrait swung open squeaking slightly and the figure climbed inside and gently removed the hood of her cloak. The long red locks of Ginny Weasley's hair flowed down her back as she hurried towards her dormitory. Smooth as a panther she slid through the door and quickly undressed. She'd gotten quite good at this sneaking around by now. She'd been doing it for weeks. Patiently waiting for everyone to fall asleep and then tip toe out of the tower. It had however been most unfortunate that Hermione had found her the other day. It had raised her, Ron and Harry's interest and because of it she's been forced to rearrange her schedule completely.

This is useless; she thought despairingly as she climbed into her bed and closed the hangings. She was so confused, so utterly and completely confused. Deep down she knew she ought to confide in someone. Tell them what was going on. The episode with the Chamber of Secrets had taught her that keeping everything bottled up inside never was the right solution. But whom could she turn to?

Her brothers? They already thought of her as a little girl who needed protection. Telling them something like this would only worsen the situation.

Hermione? She would undoubtedly turn directly to the library and then usher her to see Dumbledore. Ginny had already started on the books. Hermione wasn't the only one who knew her way around the library. But still, if she told her she would most certainly tell Ron. And Harry.

Harry. He was probably the one person she should talk to. He would understand. But at this point she didn't have the courage to face him. Not with this and certainly not until she was sure. One hundred percent sure. Otherwise he might think she was making it all up as an excuse to be near him.

No, she definitely couldn't tell Harry. Not anyone. Not yet.

*

Life at Hogwarts was surprisingly normal, Harry mused one Saturday morning as he was sitting in the common room pouring over a particularly nasty potions essay on bone healing potions (as if he didn't know enough of those to last him a lifetime). Though professor Delacour was a much more pleasant teacher her essays were equally murderous to Snape's. But Harry wasn't really concentrating on his essay anyway. His thoughts were miles away preoccupied with a certain evil Dark Lord.

Looking around the room one really wouldn't think there was a seriously evil wizard on the rise wrecking havoc and terror throughout the country. Fred and George were being their usual mischievous selves, currently attempting to lure some clueless second years into trying their latest prank invention.

Parvati and Lavender on the other hand were giving each other manicures while giggling madly about god knows what, Dean, Seamus and Neville were engrossed in a game of exploding snap and Hermione and Ron were engaged in their normal routine, which was bickering and squabbling over something trivial and pointless. The rest of the students were doing homework, playing games or chatting merrily about perfectly innocent such as Quidditch, who was dating who and what they were going to buy in Hogsmeade.

It was Halloween and the yearly feast was scheduled for tonight. This also marked the first Hogsmeade weekend this year and Harry, like the rest of the students allowed to go, was quite looking forward to it. Dumbledore had also called a new meeting in the Order this evening and it would be nice to see Sirius again, although he truthfully dreaded hearing more about the harsh reality out there.

At Hogwarts the students were protected from daily news on Death Eater attacks, and that made it easy to forget and even harder to fully comprehend what was actually going on outside the castle. The Daily Prophet was still quoting Fudge's claims that rumours of You Know Who's return was codswallop and rubbish, and now that Dumbledore's words at the Start of term feast were long forgotten most students seemed to feel quite safe in the school, not bothering too much about whether Voldemort was back or not.

Personally Harry was of the opinion that the protectiveness of the school, however well intentional, was both deceptive and giving them all a false view of the reality. It was hard for the students to understand the evilness without experiencing it for themselves. Harry, Ron and Hermione along with Ginny were probably the only ones who had any real knowledge of the severity of what they were facing thanks to Harry's enrolment into the Order of the Phoenix. And since he'd taken a vow of secrecy he wasn't allowed to spread his knowledge.

Harry firmly believed that having knowledge was preferable but still he couldn't help but feel slightly envious of the others. They didn't worry because they didn't know what to worry about. But Harry knew. And sometimes he secretly wished he would just wake up one morning to discover that he'd developed selective amnesia or that someone would Obliviate him so that he too happily and carefree could laugh and joke around all day, and never once stop to think about him.

Lately his scar had been bothering him again. The last couple of days Harry had been experiencing a slight throbbing pain, aching almost constantly. It wasn't anything like the excruciating pain he was used to and so far there hadn't been any nightmares or strange dreams. But Harry knew from experience that nothing connected to his blasted scar was a good thing. This obviously was a sign, and surely a bad one. Voldemort was up to something and Harry had a nagging feeling it was only a matter of time before he would know more about it.

"You done yet?" Ron's voice brought Harry back from his depressing train of thoughts. "Yup, just need three more lines and I'm all set," Harry answered waving his quill at the redhead.

"Brilliant!" Ron responded sounding awfully cheerful. Harry glanced up from his parchment and noted that he and Hermione seemed to have worked out their difference, and was currently talking to each other in a surprisingly civilized manner. Hermione's cheeks looked slightly pink and Ron seemed to be smiling lopsidedly at her and was obviously flirting shamelessly. Whether it was intentional or not, Harry didn't know.

As he hurried to make up a further three lines of gibberish about bone healing to meet the required three feet, Harry couldn't help but smirk. Apparently Ron could on a good day be quite the charmer when he set his mind to it.

Harry had unintentionally overheard snatches of a conversation between the gossip queens Parvati and Lavender the other day where none other than one Ronald Weasley was brought up. They had after much giggling concluded that Ron was in fact quite charming when he wasn't being an immature git. Just a pity Ron usually shoved the git-side of his personality towards girls, Harry mused as he dotted his last i with flourish. Otherwise Hermione and he might have worked out their little "predicament" by now.

Thoughts of Ron's occasional charms led Harry to wonder what girls might be saying about him. Besides the stupid Boy Who Lived stuff that is, Harry thought irritably. Cho obviously hadn't fancied him the way he'd wanted her to last year, so his charms seemed quite few and feeble. Though there had been a couple of girls who'd approached him and asked him to the ball, so he couldn't be a complete troll either.

Oh, for goodness sake, Harry mentally scolded himself. It was pointless, not to mention extremely girly to even think about stuff like this. What did he care if no girls liked him? He had absolutely no interest what so ever in this stupid boy-girl thing anyway. He was scrawny and his hair was a complete disaster. Not to mention the glasses! Who could possibly fancy something as - freaky as him?

Well, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him sweetly. Ginny had. And that was exactly the problem - she had fancied him. But that was clearly ancient history now that Max had wormed his way into Hogwarts and Ginny's life. Not that Harry particularly cared about this one way or the other. It was just an observation after all.

Eager to abandon the depressing subject of his none-existing love life, Harry quickly gathered his books and parchments and headed up the stairs to the dormitory to fetch his cloak. Ron and Hermione were waiting eagerly for him by the portrait hole when he returned seconds later and soon they were on their way to Hogsmeade.

* *

They returned to the castle several hours later, their moneybags considerably lighter, laden down with bulging bags of sweets, Dungbombs and other joke items and in Hermione's case books. They hurried up to the common room to dispose of their purchases and returned to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast.

The hall was decorated in the usual manner with numerous carved pumpkins filled with candles enchanted to float through the air and skeletons hung from every wall, rattling constantly in a despondent, mournful sort of tune.

The trio hurried over to the Gryffindor table and grabbed seats next to the twins and their friend Lee, and waited impatiently for Dumbledore to open the feast. A few minutes later everyone was in place and Dumbledore said the magic words ("Rest your feet and let's eat!") filling the tables with delicious food and beverages.

"Superb!" George praised between mouthfuls of chicken wings and pork chops. "The house elves have surpassed themselves this year! Remind me to thank the wee creatures heartily next time Fred and I saunter into the kitchens for a small snack."

Ron's eyes widened anxiously and frantically he kicked his brother under the table.

"Ouch! What was that for?" George looked at him with a mix of anger and bewilderment. Ron nodded his head discreetly towards Hermione hoping his dense brother would catch his drift. George still looked puzzled and, rolling his eyes resignedly, Ron mouthed the word "SPEW". Finally it dawned on George. "Oh, right," he said silently abandoning the topic of house elves completely.

Luckily Hermione hadn't heard George's thoughtless comment seeing as she was too engrossed in a vivid conversation with Ginny about Banishing Charms to pay any attention to the conversations around her. Ron shuddered to think about the uproar she would have caused if she'd heard.

Hermione was passionately obsessed with the liberation of House Elves and would happily go on for hours if started on the subject. A pity the elves themselves weren't especially keen on the thing, Ron thought. She was probably fighting a loosing battle this time. But that wasn't really stopping her now was it?

That was so typical of Hermione Ron thought with a small smile. She never gave up no matter how poor the odds were in her favour. There definitely was a lot of passion in her all right. He just wished she could be as passionate about him as she was about the darn elves. Ron felt warm all over just thinking about it.

"May I have your attention for a moment?"

Dumbledore had risen from his chair and was now looking over the crowd of students, the familiar twinkle clearly visible behind his half-moon spectacles. The Great Hall immediately fell silent and all eyes were on the Headmaster.

"At the risk of spoiling your appetite I regrettably feel it necessary to remind you all of my words at the start of term feast as I know some of you struggle with a rather poor long term memory."

A low uneasy murmur instantly broke out in the hall. There had been little talk about the Dark Lord since the last feast, and the reminder did not exactly lift the holiday spirit. Dumbledore however continued speaking ignoring the uneasiness that fell over the hall.

"Despite what you might have read in The Daily Prophet about Minister Fudge's adamant claim that Voldemort (gasps echoed throughout the hall) has not returned, I assure you his version of things is most incorrect. Voldemort has indeed returned and is presently busy rebuilding his strength and organisation. In light of this I find it prudent to repeat my warning that darker times are coming. Once again I also urge you all to seek out the knowledge necessary to fight the dangers ahead. Soon the time will come when the fate of our world will be determined through the effort of a united opposition. I hope to see all of you standing on our side, fighting bravely for freedom and equality of man."

He paused and the murmur continued. Some first year girls at the Gryffindor table had broken into silent sobs and the sixth year prefects were to no avail trying to comfort them. Similar reactions could be seen among the younger Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs too. Only the Slytherin table looked strangely unaffected by Dumbledore's speech. Harry and Ron used the pause to exchange a knowing look. This was terrifying but essential.

"On a happier note," Dumbledore continued, suddenly sounding unnervingly chirpy considering the grave topic he'd just addressed, and with a wide smile visible through his long silver beard. "I am pleased to inform you that in light of last years great success with the Yule Ball, the professors and I have decided that we this year will host a New Years Ball. The ball will be open to all students, but first to third years must retreat to their dormitories a few hours earlier than the rest."

Loud chattering and cheers immediately broke loose, primarily from the female students while loud groans and head shaking seemed to be the general response from the male side.

"Our hope is that this ball can serve as a symbol of the hope and joy we all wish the future to hold. The world outside of Hogwarts might be a scary and dark place these days, but at least for a night we urge you all to leave all depression notions behind and just let you hair down."

Ron wasn't entirely sure that an opportunity to mess about with his hair was a good thing. He felt oddly numb, and when he reached for his fork to continue spooning his fourth helping of treacle tart into his mouth, he found his hand strangely uncooperative. Why exactly did they have to have another freaking ball?

From his semi-paralysed condition Ron watched the various manners his fellow Gryffindors greeted this surprising news. Parvati and Lavender were positively beaming a few seats further down the table; both appeared to be engrossed in a conversation about dress robes and accessories while eyeing what he only assumed were hopeful partners. For a fleeting moment he thought Lavender looked at him, but when he turned to check he found her staring longingly at Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff.

The twins were having a hushed conversation accompanied by occasional glances in the direction of Angelina and Alicia. Ginny on the other hand seemed to have developed a recent fascination for her plate. Her cheeks however had a telltale flush to them, and Ron thought she looked part hopeful and part sad.

Not that she had any reason to look sad though, he noted with a scowl. Max the mad German was sending her some pretty telling looks that Ron personally could do without.

Abandoning Ginny he moved on to Harry. His best friend had such a pained look on his face one really should have thought that Dumbledore had just cancelled Christmas. And on some level Ron couldn't help but share Harry's sentiments.

The Yule Ball last year had turned out nothing short of a complete disaster for both Harry and himself. He felt twinge of guilt just thinking about how badly he'd treated his date and truth be told Harry hadn't done much better with his. The memory alone was enough to make Ron wince. At least now he knew how not to go about treating his partner (assuming he'd be able to persuade someone to go with him). The Patil sisters had acted unusually cold towards the pair of them ever since the last ball and personally Ron didn't blame them. They really had been terribly childish and immature...

And then there was Hermione.

She was sitting directly across from him and feeling quite bold Ron chanced a quick glance at her. She looked strangely unaffected by the news, still nibbling politely at her dessert and acting as though Dumbledore had simply made a passing comment about the weather.

Ron couldn't help but frown. Judging by the massive row they'd had after the Ball last year, he'd been left with the impression that balls somehow was important to Hermione. Why else would she spend hours preparing for them, and then later throw tantrums because he allegedly had ruined the experience for her?

Her last words to him before she stormed off to her dormitory that night had haunted him ever since.

"Next time there's a ball, ask me first and not as a last resort."

He had acted like a jerk towards her that night. Back then he hadn't understood what she'd been talking about, but now it was crystal clear to him He'd been jealous of Krum. Unconsciously he'd probably had feelings for her even back then but had just been too dense a prat to notice.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Ron desperately wanted to ask her this time. An image of Hermione in her dress robes and hair all sleek and beautiful was enough to make his ears go red. But just thinking about asking her made him feel sick to his stomach. Why did asking Hermione make him feel all nervous and giddy? It was just a question after all - to his best friend. There was nothing scary about asking a simple question, really.

Except for the fact that she might say no. Because she liked Harry. It was always Harry. But maybe he should ask anyway? Or not?

Ach! This was hopeless.

While Ron was busy fighting an inner struggle whether to ask Hermione or not, the girl in question was having more than enough trouble concentrating on her food. The reason behind this newfound obsession with her dessert was of course sitting right in front of her, and Hermione was afraid that if she stopped taking minuscule bites of her cake, her eyes might deceive her. They were prone to search him out of their own accord and then she'd go all red and blush.

Part of her was thrilled by the news of another ball while the other part of her was bone-chillingly terrified. It would be wonderful and thrilling if Ron asked her and terrifying and heartbreaking if he didn't. But he would, wouldn't he? She desperately hoped so but was far from certain.

Next to Hermione Harry let out a very heartfelt sigh. He was far from ecstatic to learn about another ruddy ball. Honestly, what was Dumbledore thinking? Didn't he realize that balls only brought along a lot of unwanted trouble? Firstly there was the difficult task of deciding on a girl to ask and then (he shuddered) the hellish agony of actually popping the question. It was madness!

The one last year had been nothing short of hell and Harry had inwardly sworn never to attend another ball for the rest of his life if he could help it. Of course this time it wasn't mandatory for him to go, and he was therefore surprised and even a fair bit appalled to discover that he partly wanted to anyway.

And he knew why.

But he wouldn't do anything about it. He simply couldn't. Firstly because he feared that Ron (and possibly also the twins) would severely hurt him, possibly even cripple him for life if he asked her. And secondly because he was afraid. He was afraid because by asking her he would be forced to admit to his developing feelings; but he was even more afraid that if he did she would be in danger because of it.

Not to mention that she'd probably say no anyway. Bloody annoying German louse!

* * *

The feast seemed to drag on for hours and Harry was relieved when Dumbledore finally announced that it was time to retreat to the dormitories. He said goodbye to Ron and Hermione in the Entrance Hall and, careful not to alert the attention of any Prefects, he made his way towards the headmaster's office for his second meeting as a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for him by the ugly gargoyle and together they made their way up the winding staircase that lead to Dumbledore's office and the grand meeting room.

They entered the circular meeting room moments later to find everyone waiting for them. Feeling a bit foolish for being the last one to arrive, Harry quickly dumped down next to Sirius.

"'Lo Sirius," Harry whispered with a half smile and was instantly awarded with what he assumed was Sirius's idea of an affectionate pat on the back.

"Hi yourself," Sirius replied with a wicked grin that made Harry suspect that he knew something and was eager to tease him about it. As it turned out he was dead right.

"So," his godfather continued inquiringly, "who're you taking? Some pretty blond, a gorgeous brunette or a fiery redhead? Now don't you even think about holding out on your poor godfather. I want to know every sordid detail!"

Harry had been totally unprepared for such a swift interrogation into his plans (as if he had any) about possible dates for the ball. Dumbledore must have told him about that, he thought with a scowl, but as always the headmaster appeared totally oblivious to Harry's unkind glare. With a face colour to rival Ron on a bad day, he managed to stammer out a weak "dunno" that Sirius somehow seemed to find immensely entertaining.

Luckily Dumbledore chose that exact moment to call the meeting to order, sparing Harry of further embarrassment, at least temporarily (he had a nasty suspicion that Sirius would take great pleasure in brining up the topic of dates again later).

Trying hard to avoid Sirius's enormous smirk for the remainder of the meeting, Harry turned to study the other occupants of the room. The Grand Conference Room seemed much more crowded this time he noticed. This was partly explained by the fact that both Hagrid and Madame Maxime were present (they alone occupied more than half the length of the table with their "big bones"). But the number of redheads had also increased Harry noted with a smile.

On the other side of the table he caught the eye of Bill Weasley, Ron's eldest brother. He was in Harry's opinion the very definition of a cool wizard. His hair was still long and captured in a ponytail; a fang still dangled from one of his earlobes and he wore fashionable robes and dragonhide boots. Next to Bill sat Charlie.

They both grinned happily at Harry and he returned the smile. They'd obviously been enrolled recently something that made perfect sense Harry reasoned. Charlie was a professor at the school now and Bill, well he would be useful with his extensive knowledge of enchantments, charms and other dark magic from his work as a Gringott's cursebreaker.

Harry was considerably more surprised to find that Percy had joined the Order as well. Percy had always struck Harry as the odd person out in the Weasley family. He lacked their characteristic fiery temper, extreme stubbornness; sense of adventure and lack of respect for rules and authorities that seemed to be almost second nature to the rest of them. In fact so far the only thing he seemed to have in common with his siblings was the hair colour. His fussiness and love for rules and regulations was boarding on obsessive and in comparison even Hermione looked rebellious.

Percy had previously worked for Barty Crouch whose son turned out to be the Death Eater that'd made Lord Voldemort's resurrection possible the previous year. He was also known for his deep admiration for the Ministry and Minister Fudge in particular. Fudge still refused to acknowledge the fact that Voldemort had returned, and Harry was therefore somewhat baffled by what could only be described as a massive turnaround by the former Headboy.

As if he knew what Harry was thinking, Dumbledore suddenly spoke. "As I'm sure you've all noticed we are honoured with three new members tonight. William, Charles and Percival Weasley have all graciously accepted membership and will undoubtedly be of great help to us in the future."

Dumbledore smiled at his former students who all nodded humbly. "It is especially joyous that Percy has joined our ranks as he currently holds a prominent position at the Ministry and will be able to keep us informed on important developments."

"Yes, it will be my great pleasure to do so, Headmaster," Percy said smugly. "The atmosphere among ministry officials can only be described as tense something my father surely can testify to. Minister Fudge is in my opinion doing a grave mistake by refusing to acknowledge the Dark Lord's return. I hate to speak ill of my fellow officials, but to ignore these signs as well as Harry's testimony is nothing short of scandalous. I am therefore willing to pass on any information I receive to this forum."

"Good good", Dumbledore said while pouring himself a cup of freshly made tea. After adding two lumps of sugar to his cup and a piece of cake to the plate he turned his attention to Hagrid.

"Now Hagrid, I am eager to hear about your progress in the negotiations with the giants."

"Ah, yeah well," Hagrid began fumblingly looking slightly uncomfortable being in the limelight like this. "Firstly I just want to sey thanks fer lettin' me an' Olympe 'ere have a go at this. Even managed teh trace dewn me mum an' all, found her livin' near the head troll. Good thing too mind ya', she's been a great help with the persuasions." He was now positively beaming with pride.

"Good for you, Hagrid," Harry said with a grin. He was honestly happy that he'd finally found his mum, as long as he wouldn't bring her to Hogwarts any time soon. He shuddered to think about the mayhem a display of a giantress would cause in Care of Magical Creatures...

Hagrid grinned back at him. "Thanks 'Arry. So far we've come to an agreement with the giants up north, but the southies are a though nut to crack. Needs some more persuading they do."

"Yez, me and 'Agrid go back aftzer tiz meeting. 'Opefully zey will come 'round zoon," Madame Maxim added with a curt nod in Dumbledore's direction.

"Wonderful, I trust you'll keep up the good work and we look forward to your next report." Dumbledore seemed mildly excited by this news and the others around the table were also nodding approvingly at Hagrid and Maxime. A silence followed. All eyes were on the headmaster who was preoccupied with refilling his teacup. He even took time to sip it carefully before he continued.

"Severus?"

Once again the hated potions master had been more or less hiding in a corner and it was clear that at least the three new members hadn't noticed his presence. With evident reluctance he removed the hood of his cloak exposing them all to his greasy hair and grouchy face. Snape was sitting stiff as a board staring straight ahead without meeting anyone's gaze. Not a sound was made and everyone seemed to be holding their breaths waiting for him to start speaking.

After it had been revealed during the last meeting that he was now working tirelessly to seek out Death Eater defectors, Harry's opinion of the dreaded potions master was slightly altered, emphasizing the word slightly. This dangerous and brave mission didn't really change the fact that Snape was an unbearable prick. No matter what heroic deeds he might pull off, Harry was certain he would never like that man.

"Would you care to convey some of your findings from your travels around the continent searching for DE defectors as well as your research into the dark arts?" Dumbledore enquired calmly. "Any news on the key to immortality? I trust Voldemort hasn't learnt any way to successfully immortalize himself as of yet."

Half the members flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name. Harry chuckled to himself. It was almost funny really, how grown men and women were afraid of nine small letters put together in a particular order. Well, they better get used to it, we'll be hearing it a lot in the future, he thought darkly.

Snape cleared his throat and spoke for the first time during the meeting.

"With regards to our search into the dark arts and the issue of immortality in particular, Karkaroff and I are still busy searching through the vast archives of Durmstrang. It's tedious work and we're forced to conduct our research at night not to be discovered." He glared icily at the newest Weasley members who all looked slightly shell-shocked.

"And to soothe the worried souls of our newest recruitments I can assure you I'm researching the dark arts purely as a means to learn more about Voldemort's plans. That is also the reason why I seek out recent defectors on the run such as our dear friend Karkaroff. This way we are able to form a picture of the way the Dark Lord's thinking. Immortality however has always been an obsession of his and we're hoping to find every possible way to achieve this and destroy all trace of these methods."

The Weasley boys were now gaping openly and Harry couldn't really blame them. After enduring seven years of Potions with him the thought of Snape doing something good was about as likely as the Slytherins doing charity. Never the less, it was the truth.

"In our search through the Durmstrang archives we have so far found a few interesting references to ancient research into immortality that we plan to follow up as soon as possible. I hope to deliver a more detailed report on these findings at our next meeting."

Dumbledore nodded approvingly and for a moment Snape looked almost satisfied. The look faded fast however.

"While Karkaroff has been holding up the fort at Durmstrang, I've managed to seek out another recent defector who has astonishingly managed to escape Voldemort with her life intact, though her health is far from good. It is with great reluctance that I reveal her identity tonight, but as I know we have members who're very particular about these things, I will go against my better judgement on this."

He shot Orson Diggle a contemptuous glare. Harry heard Sirius mutter "couldn't said it better myself" next to him and had to bite his lip not to snicker out loud.

"I had heard whispers in the corridors of Durmstrang that Avery Nott's niece Iselin had confided in a letter to a friend at the school that she was having serious doubt about the rightness of her choice to join the Death Eaters. A few subtle inquires with a few well-placed informants I have in various locations around the continent confirmed that she had already fled Voldemort's gang. I found her hiding deep inside a forest in central France. Her health was boarding on critical and she's currently resting up in a safe house in Latvia being care for by a retired mediwitch. Unfortunately she was not able to give accurate description of Voldemort's whereabouts. When the Death Eaters are summoned they are drawn to him by an invisible power and regretfully she had not been able to identify his lair. She did however reveal a few names of recently recruited followers for me to present tonight."

He reached inside his robes and pulled out a small piece of parchment. He got up and walked over to Dumbledore and handed it to him. Dumbledore skimmed through it, then folded it up and put it down on the table. Once again the rest of the Order looked breathless with anticipation.

"I hope I don't offend any of you by keeping this information concealed at this point," Dumbledore said casually as he reached for yet another piece of cake (he seemed to be the only one who helped himself from the enormous tray). Everyone looked disappointed but all shook their heads.

"Good. Anything else to report, Severus?" Snape had now resumed his invisible position in the farthest corner.

"Only the fact that I fear I must return to Hogwarts soon. I have it on good authority that the Dark Lord has people out looking for me. Clearly it has reached him that I'm not at Hogwarts now and he's probably worried about what I might be up to. Now that I have a few loyal and trustworthy people recruited I can safely return and run operations from here."

Harry felt his heart pummel to the ground. Snape was returning? Now that Potions had finally become bearable? That was just rotten luck!

"Very well," the headmaster said evenly. "Arrangements will be made for your return."

Next Sirius was encouraged to give a brief summary of his and Lupin's work in the recruitment of willing under cover agents. The Dark Mark had been spotted twice since the last meeting and the losses had been severe. Reports from all over the country also indicated that the vampires were getting thirstier and more restless. Most vampires had supported Voldemort years back and were likely to return to him as soon as he grows more powerful.

"Ah yes, I suspected as much." Dumbledore appeared to be thinking hard for a moment. Eventually he got up from his chair and began pacing slowly up and down the length of the table while polishing his half moon spectacles with the hem of his long purple robe. After a while he paused next to Harry.

"From the information laid before this meeting we have established the fact that so far only Voldemort's servants have committed dark deeds. He himself has yet to be seen. I fear that he is plotting something and bidding his time." The headmaster turned his gaze to Harry.

"By the fact that Harry hasn't experienced any hurt in his scar as of lately, I take it that he isn't ready yet to face us. As you may know young Harry normally feels a pain in his scar whenever Voldemort is close by or feeling particularly murderous."

"But sir, my scar has been hurting," Harry interrupted darkly.

All eyes were immediately drawn to him all looking pale and concerned. "But Harry why haven't you told me about this before?" Sirius sounded both offended and worried. "I mean..."

Dumbledore quickly cut him off. "Since when?" was his only question.

"For the past two weeks I recon, it's not as painful as it have in the past, just a kind of constant throbbing." Harry felt slightly guilty for not having told the headmaster about this earlier. Dumbledore remained silent for a moment. He suddenly looked old and tired, Harry noticed. When he spoke again his voice was low and grave.

"Then our time is scarce and we must act with prudence and swiftness."

*

That night Harry found it particularly difficult to fall asleep. Too many thoughts were fighting for his attention. For one thing there was all the new information he'd learned at the meeting that evening. It had taken him a good hour to recapitulate it to Ron and Hermione and they had been as shocked to learn about the hurt in his scar as the rest of the Order. He hadn't mentioned anything about this to them before and he suspected they felt a bit offended that he hadn't confided in them. Harry made a mental note not to exclude them from anything regarding the Order or Voldemort in the future. He valued their friendship and opinion far too much to risk loosing either of them.

And as if this wasn't enough the blasted New Years Ball was also causing him some unexpected headache. Ron had been staring strangely at Hermione the whole time they'd been sitting down in the Common room discussing the Order. Harry was certain that his friend was trying to muster up the courage to ask her to the ball. He smiled slightly. That would make Hermione happy at least. Wonder if Ron was asking her because he felt the same way (he was almost certain this was it) or because he feared another mega row like the one after the last ball if he didn't.

But the more important thing on his mind concerning the ball was not related to Ron or Hermione. What should he do? To think that only a year ago he was aching to take Cho to the ball. Funny how things change so quickly, he mused as his thoughts wandered to her. Who'd thought that he would end up pining over Ginny Weasley, the girl who used to put her elbow in the butter whenever he was around? Now he was the one acting like a fool whenever she was within sight.

Finally Harry drifted off to an uneasy sleep only to wake with a start a couple of hours later, dripping with sweat and with an extreme and piercing pain in his scar!