Harry Potter and the Watcher's Council

Chapter 4: The I in Team "We like to talk big. Vampires do. 'I'm going to destroy the world.' Just tough guy talk. Strutting around with your friends over a pint of blood. The truth is, I like this world. You've got... dog racing, Manchester United. And you've got people. Billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs. It's all right here. But then someone comes along with a vision. With a real... passion for destruction. Angel could pull it off. Goodbye, Picadilly. Farewell, Leicester Bloody Square." -Spike, "Becoming Part II"

Harry had his first Potions lesson of the year the next day, and both he and Ron were extremely nervous as they queued up with the other Gryffindors taking Snape's N.E.W.T. level class. Harry wasn't surprised to see that very few Gryffindors were waiting for Snape to unlock the dungeon doors. He had always treated Gryffindors so miserably in his class that most of them had escaped it the moment they had the chance. Only Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Dean were there to represent the Gryffindors. Harry asked himself again why he had practically begged to be let into Snape's class.

He was still asking himself that when he saw Draco Malfoy making his way toward the other Slytherins in the corridor, for once unaccompanied by his bodyguard friends, Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione gave Harry an amused look. "Don't suppose Malfoy's lackeys made the grade," she whispered to him cheerfully.

Ron grinned. "Its weird to see him on his own. Its like he's naked."

Hermione made a face and slapped Ron playfully on the arm. "Ew, Ron. Don't be sick." Harry was laughing at them too much to notice Snape sweeping threateningly down the corridor until he paused directly in front of Harry. He could feel his laughter die on his lips as older man sneered at him.

"Laugh now, Potter," he practically spit at Harry, making him cringe closer to the wall as if seeking protection, "because once you enter my dungeon, there will be no frivolity or fun. You'll have to work twice as hard as the rest to make up for your abysmal performance on the O.W.L. exam."

Harry could feel his face burning with a combination of anger and embarrassment as he trudged into the dungeon with his friends. It didn't help that Malfoy was sneering at him with that superior look in his eye, and kept shooting him smirking glances every few minutes during the lesson. The lesson itself was as dismal as Harry had expected. The potion Snape had asked them to prepare for that day was impossibly difficult, and it was only with Hermione's surreptitious help that Harry managed to produce something that slightly resembled a Practicality Potion. He ladled a sample of the aqua colored liquid into a flask and carried it up to Snape, his emotions battling horribly inside him. He hated Snape with a passion that surprised him, and all his guilt over the awful memory he'd witnessed the year before in Snape's Pensieve had all but disappeared in the wake of Sirius's death.

Snape sneered at him as Harry placed the potion carefully on his desk for grading. "Dismal work," he said, holding the flask up in front of his eyes. "I can't say when I've seen such a lamentable potion maker as yourself, Potter. If you want to stay in this class, you will come to my office Monday night for extra lessons. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind about allowing you to remain in this class with the others who have earned the privilege."

Harry left quickly, his face red with anger and embarrassment. He was growling deep in his throat without realizing it, blind with rage as he made his way up to the Great Hall for lunch. He was so immersed in his own feelings that he didn't even notice Buffy and Ginny standing in the middle of the entrance hall, deep in conversation, until he'd run straight into them.

Harry and Ginny crashed onto the floor, landing heavily on the cold stone. Buffy caught herself easily and offered them both hands up. Harry shook his head, trying to clear his head of the anger Snape had induced in him. Buffy and Ginny were both staring at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted horns. "Er, sorry Professor," he muttered, quite embarrassed and thinking he'd just made a fool of himself in front of the Slayer, of all people. "All right then, Ginny?" he asked, seeing that she was rubbing her elbow and grimacing.

"You have a habit of knocking me over, Harry," Ginny pointed out with a frown at her injured arm.

"She'll be fine," Buffy assured him. "And don't call me 'professor.' It makes me feel old."

Harry stared at her, Snape completely forgotten. Today she was wearing the shortest skirt he'd ever seen with big black boots and yet another halter top. "You're not old!" he stuttered unthinkingly, still staring. "Aren't you cold?" he added.

Buffy looked amused at his blatant staring, and Ginny was giving him harassed looks that clearly said he was making a fool of himself, which he didn't even notice what with Buffy practically naked in the entrance hall. "Yeah," she admitted, "but I've lived in California my whole life. I don't really have Englandy clothes. And those robe thingies you guys wear," she crinkled her nose in disgust, "are a fashion don't. More like a fashion travesty." She shrugged and turned back to Ginny, obviously intending to continue their interrupted conversation. Harry watched her drag Ginny off to a more secluded spot. He only snapped out of his reverie when Hermione and Ron arrived, breathing hard in the effort they'd made to catch up to him.

"What...was...that...all about?" Hermione asked breathlessly, handing him his bag, which he'd only just then realized he'd forgotten in Potions.

"She's...the best...dresser...I've ever...seen!" Ron exclaimed at the same time, taking big gulping breaths between words.

"Er, right," Harry turned and headed into the Great Hall, trying to hide his embarrassment at having been caught gaping at their Defense professor. Ron and Hermione followed him. Suddenly remembering his anger at Snape, he glared down at his soup, wishing he could toss it into Snape's face, which was sneering at him from the head table.

"Are you ok, Harry?" Hermione asked, glancing at Ron worriedly.

"Snape is such a git!" Harry exploded, throwing his hands up in angry frustration and nearly knocking is soup over.

"Harry," Hermione said quietly, trying to soothe him in a manner that usually indicated she was about to point out something he wouldn't like, "I think Snape was just being so nasty to cover up for your extra lessons, and for letting you into his class." She looked around to make sure no one was paying them any attention. "You know he has to keep up his Death Eater act in front of Malfoy and the others," she continued in a whisper.

Harry stared at her, his eyes flashing dangerously with rage. "Why are you defending him?" he nearly yelled, making several Gryffindors turn and stare at the trio, wondering at the disturbance. "He's such a great bloody git to me, and you, my supposed best friend, just sit there and make excuses for him?!" he shouted, nearly spitting with anger.

Hermione sat dumbstruck, her mouth moving as she attempted to form a response, but nothing was coming out. Harry stood up, glaring at his friend and turned, stalking from the Great Hall without another word.

*************

The next day passed in tense silence between Harry and Hermione, while Ron attempted cheerful conversation to distract them into talking to each other again. Hermione turned out to be just as angry as Harry, and was refusing to talk to him. Not that it would have done any good--Harry had been resolutely ignoring her since his outburst at dinner the night before.

Harry had too many other things to think about to really worry about the fact that Hermione was just as angry at him as he was at her. He'd posted signs in the common room announcing both Quidditch trials on Friday, as well as a D.A. meeting Thursday evening. He recruited Ernie MacMillan to post signs in the Hufflepuff common room, and Luna to post them in the Ravenclaw common room. He wondered briefly if he should try to include Slytherins in the D.A., but decided against it. He knew they couldn't all be bad, but he'd rather not have Draco Malfoy show up at the meeting to throw insults and be generally nasty if he could help it.

Classes seemed to go on forever on Thursday, with everyone whispering excitedly about the meeting that night. Even their first Defense lesson with Willow served only as a brief distraction from the building anticipation of what they'd be learning that night. As their Defense class sat on the floor, each person surrounded by his or her own carefully chalked pentagram, Willow stood at the front of the room, frowning at them.

"What's wrong with all of you today?" she asked grumpily. "You're not even trying!"

Harry sighed and attempted to concentrate. This Muggle magic business was a lot harder than he'd thought, and seemed suspiciously like Occlumency to him. Willow had told them to clear their minds and concentrate hard on the candles in front of them. They were supposed to picture the candle lighting and concentrate on the wick while repeating the words "aduro adustum exussum" over and over. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and tried to clear his mind. He opened them slowly, staring hard at the candle in front of him. He pictured it burning merrily, and began repeating the words quietly. Around him he could hear Ron muttering as well, and tried to ignore the other voices. "Aduro adustum exussum, aduro adustum exussum..."

Suddenly his candle was sparking and a small flame flickered merrily on the tall wick. "Oh yay!" Willow exclaimed, strolling over to him and grinning at his lit candle. "Harry made it work! Great--"

Her words were cut off by a loud shriek from across the room. The class turned to look at the source of the noise to see Neville's candle being completely consumed by the flame. "Oh no!" Neville cried, scrambling away from his candle. "What did I do?"

Willow merely snapped her fingers sharply, and the flames died instantly, leaving a waxy puddle in Neville's pentagram--the remains of his candle. "I'm sorry Professor!" Neville sputtered, wringing his hands. "Anyone can tell you I'm no great shakes at this," he admitted sadly.

Willow smiled kindly. "Well, at least you made some fire!" she exclaimed brightly. "That's the first step, anyway. Now its just about control. Let's try again."

Seven o'clock, and the first D.A. meeting of the year, finally arrived, with Harry and Hermione having reached a grudging agreement to ignore their fight two days before. Harry wasn't happy with his friend, but he was sick of fighting. He'd rather just pretend it never happened, although a part of him still resented her having taken Snape's side over his, and not being properly outraged at their professor's behavior.

The three friends waited eagerly in the Room of Requirement, wondering which of the former D.A. members would show up, and whether anyone new would come. They didn't have long to wait. By seven the room was filled with students from three houses, most of them people Harry had never seen before. "There must be fifty people here," Ron whispered to Harry as a few more students straggled into the room.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to get everyone's attention. Everyone quieted immediately, staring at Harry expectantly. The room was crowded, as Harry hadn't expected nearly this many people to show up, and people were standing on chairs in the back, trying to see over the people in front them. Harry cleared his throat again nervously. He hated being the center of attention like this.

"Er, welcome to the D.A.," he began, his voice squeaking a bit in his nervousness. "This'll just be an informational meeting then, as we weren't expecting so many people to come. Next time we'll ask the Room for something a bit bigger."

He glanced at Ron, not sure what to say to the eager students. Ron shrugged. "Er, so you're probably wondering what this is about," he continued.

"I heard you're teaching people Patronuses!" someone in the back called out.

"Well, that's part of it," Harry admitted, nodding, "but its more than that. Its about knowing how to defend yourselves not just against dementors and other Dark Creatures, but against Voldemort and his Death Eaters." Many of the students gasped at hearing the name spoken allowed, and Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You need to get used to hearing that name," Harry said harshly, "because he's out there, and if we don't stop him quickly, soon enough he'll start killing. People will start disappearing, probably even people you know, and he'll be behind it. If you can't even say the name, how do you expect to fight him?" He glared around the room, as if daring any of them to answer his question.

"We've already worked on a lot of the basics--Disarming, Stunning, that kind of thing. Those of you who are new will want to work on those on your own, try to find a D.A. member from last year who can help you. I know we started Patronuses last year, but we need to keep working on them. I'll try to find a couple Boggarts, that would be best. Its a lot harder to produce a Patronus when a dementor is gliding toward you." A few of the students in the front of the room shivered, as if they could sense a dementor swooping toward them right then. "After that, we've found loads of great spells that might help us. Any questions?"

"When will we meet?" a Hufflepuff in the back called out.

Harry frowned. "We had a lot of problems with this last year, trying to fit it around Quidditch practice and all. I'll say Thursday evenings, but that may change."

"Are we going to use the Galleons again, then?" Susan Bones asked.

Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione, who'd made the Galleons the year before, coins that Harry could code to tell each member the date and time of the next meeting. He nodded slowly. "I think its a good idea," he said carefully. "And, er, I'm hoping that we can keep these meetings to ourselves."

"You mean I can't tell my friends?" someone called out from the back.

Harry sighed. "You can tell your friends but..." he looked around at them, trying to gauge their reactions, "I'd rather that certain er, people, rather not know about this."

"Slytherins, you mean," Harry heard Ginny's voice calling out.

Harry nodded. "I don't want to offend any of you, if you're friends with them or anything, but er, well, we know some of them are in league with Voldemort!" he exclaimed heatedly. "Malfoy's dad's in prison, and Crabbe and Goyle's dads too. There are some others as well, Nott and Avery. If their dads are all Death Eaters, how do we know they're not? I just don't think we should let any of the Slytherins know what we're planning, that's all," he finished lamely. "And anyone who disagrees can leave!" he added, a hint of anger in his voice.

Ginny stood up. "The Slytherins can go to hell!" she proclaimed loudly, her statement followed by a chorus of cheers.

Harry flushed, and Hermione looked both horrified and impressed at the same time. "Well, that's it then. We'll meet again next Thursday, and Hermione will have Galleons for all of you by then."

As the room began to empty, students talking excitedly as the left, Harry grinned at his friends. Ginny's defiant proclamation rang in his ears, and he couldn't help laughing a little. Ron started laughing too, and soon all three of them were giggling madly, tears streaming down Hermione's cheeks. "The Slytherins...can...go to..." she gasped.

"Its time someone finally said it out loud!" Harry gasped, still laughing at the image he had of Ginny taking on Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins single handedly. Despite the fight with Hermione and his encounter with Snape, he returned to Gryffindor tower that night with a smile on his face.

**********

"Well, that made for a bit of a change," Hermione commented as they trudged up the lawn from Hagrid's hut, heading toward the castle in the strong rays of the afternoon sun. They had just finished their first Care of Magical Creatures class for the year, and to everyone's relief, Hagrid had introduced them to nothing that could be classified "highly dangerous and extremely illegal." They had studied Mooncalfs for the period, and although Hagrid obviously thought they were a little boring what with their inability to cause fatal injuries, he seemed to be wising up a bit in terms of appropriate creatures for them to learn about. As a result, the Gryffindors were hoping that this year, at least, Hagrid would manage to teach all the way through.

Harry hurried his friends up, wanting to bolt down his dinner as quickly as possible so as to get out to the Quidditch pitch before people began showing up for tryouts. Once in the Great Hall he piled his plate high with food and began eating furiously, nearly choking a few times in his haste. He felt a trifle annoyed that he had to waste time nourishing his body when all he really wanted to do was get his team together and start flying...

"Slow down, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, watching his friend in amused horror. "Honestly, you're like Hermione on a House-Elf rampage."

Harry paused between shoveling food in his mouth to throw a concerned glance at Ron. "I'm surprised you're even eating. Tryouts in half an hour, you know. Aren't you nervous at all?"

Ron raised one ginger eyebrow delicately. "Should I be?" he asked with supreme confidence. "After last year's final... you didn't see it, but damn, Harry, I was bloody brilliant! I made this one catch... I'm not sure if I can accurately describe it. Wish someone had recorder it with Omnioculars. I was amazing..." Ron stared off into the distance, a goofy smile on his face, remembering his last Quidditch match, the adrenaline, his amazing saves, everyone shouting his name and singing "Weasley is Our King."

"Well, we need to get down there," Harry mumbled through a last bite of ham, chasing it with several swallows of pumpkin juice. "I'll just get my Omnioculars and meet you down at the pitch." His eyes shone brightly with excitement. "Quidditch!" he shouted happily, and left the hall.

*************

Harry sighed unhappily, thinking he'd never experienced so much pain from Quidditch before, not even the time a crazed Bludger had smashed his arm to bits. All his hope for another Quidditch Cup win was fading before his eyes as he watched his Housemates fly around the pitch on his Omnioculars. He sighed again and shook his head morosely, handing his Omnioculars to Hermione, who was perched next to him in the Gryffindor stands.

"What's wrong?" she asked, peering through the brass instrument hesitantly. She cringed a bit and pulled the Omnioculars away from her face, staring at them with a start of horror as if they'd suddenly transfigured themselves into a particularly disgusting flesh eating slug. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "This isn't good. I'm hopeless at Quidditch, and even I can tell that they," she waved her hand to indicate the hopefuls flying around the pitch, "well, they're positively dreadful."

"I know!" Harry said with a groan, head in hands. He tugged at his messy hair in frustration and stared at his scuffed shoes, not wanting to chance another glance at the field, afraid of what Quidditch atrocity he might see there this time. He settled on looking at Hermione instead. "Well, that's not entirely true. Ginny is quite good. I'll definitely make her a Chaser. Ron seems to have gained a bit of confidence after last year, and anyway I'd better keep him if I want to live through the night."

Hermione snorted. "A bit of confidence?" she scoffed. "He acts like he's won the World Cup for England, the way he carries on. I mean really--"

"But that still leaves me a Chaser and two Beaters short!" Harry cut her off. "What am I going to do? McGonagall's going to have kittens if we don't have a good team, and Malfoy... I can't stand to think of his team winning!"

Hermione peered through the Omnioculars again, biting her lip thoughtfully. After a few minutes, she handed them back to Harry. "Watch Colin. I know he's a bit uncontrolled, but he seems quite fearless. He might make a decent Chaser, with a bit of training up."

Harry zoomed in on the fifth year boy who had once followed him around worshipfully, snapping photos with his Muggle camera. Colin had very little control over his broom, that was certain, and a few times he nearly crashed into Ginny while trying to pass the Quaffle. Luckily Ginny herself was very skilled and managed to avoid collisions with neat swerves and rolls. Colin was aggressive, though, and fast. He also seemed to have no concept of fear, and it didn't seem to occur to him that flying a hundred feet above the ground with reckless abandon might be a little hazardous.

"Not enough control or skill for a Chaser," Harry muttered, voicing his thoughts aloud. "But he'd make a fair Beater. Colin!" he called out, amplifying his voice magically so that the younger boy could hear him. "Grab a bat and show me what you can do as a Beater."

Despite discovering that Colin Creevey make an excellent Beater, Harry was still quite despondent when he signaled the fliers to land. "Thanks for coming out, everyone," he told the group tiredly, as if he had been the one flying for the better part of an hour. "I'll post my decisions by Monday at the latest, and our first practice will be Tuesday morning at six." A rumble of groans erupted from the crowd at his words, but Harry just shook his head. "Look," he said, "to tell you the truth, most of you are pretty awful." A few people glared at him, but most of them were nodding sadly. "We're going to need a lot of practice, especially since we'll have so many new players. We'll need to learn how to work together. So if you're not willing to work harder than you've ever done before, wake up before dawn every morning to practice, give up weekend Hogsmeade visits and all ideas of a social life, let me know now and I won't bother considering you," he finished with a glare around the group for good measure. Some of his housemates were gaping at him incredulously, others were glaring straight back, but no one stepped forward to withdraw from the trials. "Right then. You're dismissed. Ron, Ginny, could you help me with the balls?"

The Weasleys stayed behind to help, along with Hermione, although she mostly hid from the Bludgers underneath the stands. The four of them headed back up to the castle after securing the struggling balls, discussing the perspective Gryffindor team. Hermione stopped suddenly with a frustrated groan halfway up to the castle, staring at the doors. "Ugh, its Malfoy, He's coming straight for us."

Harry grimaced. Malfoy, along with Crabbe, Goyle, and a few other Slytherins, was indeed walking toward them, his head lifted in that arrogant manner that always made Harry want to kick him. "Sodding git," Ron muttered. Hermione clucked her tongue disapprovingly, but didn't berate him for swearing. Ginny nodded in agreement, adding, "Damn right he is."

Harry fought the urge to laugh. For some reason curses coming from Ginny's mouth always seemed somehow ludicrous. "Well, well, well," Malfoy sneered, pausing to stand in front of Harry, "if it isn't Potty and his sidekicks." He smiled cruelly. "I witnessed that travesty of a Quidditch trial. If your team is as terrible as I think it will be, I don't doubt McGonagall will rescind your captaincy. Maybe she should have thought to give it to someone with say, a modicum of talent, in the first place."

"Don't you mean someone with a rich daddy and a trust fund?" Ron growled, fingering his wand, clearly wanting to use it on the blond boy in front of him. Crabbe and Goyle growled threateningly in response, stepping up to flank their leader.

"I wonder what Snape was thinking, choosing you," Ginny added, her voice laced with malice and anger. "A seeker so talented, he's never once caught the snitch against Harry. Maybe he's just trying to recruit baby Death Eaters, what with all your dads in prison now. Voldemort's army is dwindling so much he's willing to accept even you three talentless slugs into it."

Draco glared at the younger girl with a loathing that shocked even Harry. "You're as much a fool as the rest of the Weasleys, little Ginny," he sneered her name as if it were the worst of insults. He drew his wand slowly and deliberately from his sleeve. "You're not fit to mention my father, you filthy little blood traitor. Why don't you carry on with licking Potter's boots? From what I hear that's more of a proper position for you--on your knees." He gave Ginny a disgustingly knowing look that made Harry growl and reach for his own wand.

But Ginny was faster. Before Harry had even touched his own wand, she had hers out and pointed steadily at Malfoy's face. "If you want another demonstration of my hexing abilities," she said in a quietly dangerous voice, "by all means, keep talking Malfoy." It had only just occurred to Ron what Malfoy had meant by his comment, and his face was now so red Harry feared he'd simply attack Malfoy bare handed if necessary. The idea had merit, Harry thought to himself, but remembering the results of his physical attack on Malfoy the year before, he stayed his ground. Inwardly he seethed. How dare Malfoy imply that about Ginny?

"Threats, Miss Weasley?" Harry's head whipped around at the sound of Snape's delighted voice from behind him. "Clearly an attempt to sabotage the Slytherin Quidditch team. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger... I'm quite disappointed in you. As prefects you should know better than to allow this sort of unruly behavior from your Housemates. You'll all have detention," he finished with a smile that only made Harry even angrier than he had been at Malfoy. It was one thing for his enemies to treat him unfairly, but Snape was supposed to be on their side. Malfoy smirked at Harry and his team looked as if Christmas had come early.

Harry could feel his face burning with suppressed rage. "But Professor!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly. "Ginny didn't start it! Malfoy--"

"And fifty points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable tattle tale," Snape added with a twist of his lips.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but seemed to think better of it. Her teeth clicked audibly as she snapped her mouth shut, and she turned her back on Snape, storming through the crowd of Slytherins with an angry huff. Harry and Ron exchanged horrified glances--Hermione never talked back to teachers--and hurried to catch up with her.

"I reckon you're right about him, Harry!" Hermione raged once they had reached the safety of the common room. "That no good, lying, sorry excuse for a Professor! How dare he call me a tattle tale, when Malfoy is the biggest whiner in the history of annoying little prats! I don't care if he is on our side! I mean, honestly!"

Harry and Ron stared at their friend, who was breathing hard, her face very red. "Have you gone mad, woman?" Ron asked, his voice filled with impressed awe. "You've just insulted a teacher!"

Hermione slumped into a chair, her face draining of color. She looked as if she might be ill on the common room rug. "I did, didn't I?" she said faintly. She gave them a small smile. "He is simply horrid, though." She glanced around the common room, her eyes resting on Ginny, who had climbed through the portrait whole unobtrusively and was attempting to sneak up the stairs to her dormitory without being noticed. Hermione sighed. "Oh, I do hope she's all right. Malfoy is absolutely repugnant, saying those things to her. We have to get him this year. We just have to!"