Harry Potter and the Ancient Order

Chpt. 15. The Hogwarts All-Stars

As Harry returned to the Great Hall from his Potions class in the week following the Quidditch Cup (Malfoy still hadn't said much to anybody in Gryffindor, still irritated at Dobby's embarrassing comment), he and Ron met a large cluster of students in front of the bulletin board. Before either Harry or Ron could nudge their way through for their meal, Seamus Finnegan met them with an excited look on his face.

"Krum's coaching the All Stars!" he exclaimed. The students behind Harry broke out in an electrifying chatter at Seamus's announcement.

"No way!" said Ron. His eyes were wide open, disbelieving.

It took Harry several moments to close his open mouth and come up with an intelligible thought. "Coaching? But he's only been here for two months."

"Dumbledore wouldn't let any of the heads of house coach," Seamus told them. "Said there might be favoritism about who makes the team."

"Wonder who he was talking about," Ron muttered to Harry as he looked at Snape. "I can't believe I have to go against a team Krum puts together."

"Has anybody signed up yet?" asked Harry. There were still too many students in front of the bulletin board for him to see anything.

"Malfoy's name is at the top of the list," said Seamus with a scowl. "All of the Slytherin team has signed up already. There're about thirty names so far."

"Any other Quidditch players?" asked Ron. He was still bobbing up and down on his heels, trying to see who was signing up. "Ah, no," he said in disappointment. "Davies is up there."

"Someone, let me see a quill, quick!" Xander said hurriedly. "There's only forty spots open for a tryout!" Alicia threw him a quill from across the hall, and Xander elbowed his way through the mass, writing his name in the fortieth spot. Several students shot him evil looks as he dotted the 'j' in Majere. Malfoy made the ugliest face of all, and stalked away muttering to nobody in particular.

Finally, the crowd dispersed, and Harry could read the posting. In Krum's sketchy handwriting, it read:

Tryouts for the Hogwarts All Star team will be held this Sunday. Any interested parties sign up below, then see Professor Krum for further details. Due to the fact that the team must be put together in such a hurry, tryouts will be one day only and only 40 spots will be open. Even if you do not play for your house team, you may sign up.

Harry was Happy to see that Cho had been able to sign up, her name being right before Xander's at the top of the list. He couldn't believe how many seventh years had signed up, even though they had never played a Quidditch match at Hogwarts in their lives. Cho noticed Harry reading, and trotted up to him.

"Hey," she said sweetly. She was wearing that smile that made Harry forget who he was.

"Hey, yourself," he managed. Get it together, you moron, he thought to himself. "I noticed you got to put your name on the sign up sheet."

"Yeah, that Majere guy let me through before he signed up," she said. "It's so exciting! I might be coached by Viktor Krum himself!"

"Yeah, and I have to go against him," Harry said. Quidditch talk always came so easy to him, he forgot all about his reddening face or Ron winking at him from behind Cho's back.

"You'll do fine. You always do," said Cho, and Harry's face nearly turned purple.

"Harry! Hey Harry!" called a voice that made Harry close his eyes and exhale deeply.

"Hullo, Colin," said Harry dully. Cho's eyebrows were raised, but she thankfully wasn't smiling at Harry's unofficial number one fan.

"Hey Harry, guess what?" continued Colin excitedly. He had something hidden behind his back, and pulled it out to show Harry. "May parents just bought me a Nimbus! Same one you started out with!"

"That's great, Colin," answered Harry, trying and nearly failing to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"Isn't it?" He held out his new racing broom for Harry to inspect, obviously waiting for his expert opinion. "What do you think?"

"I've always liked the Nimbus," said Harry, his eye tracing the handle that had led him to so many Quidditch victories in the past. "They have good acceleration and last a pretty long time."

"That's what I told my parents!" shrieked Colin, very much pleased that he had said the same thing Famous Harry Potter had said about the broomstick. "I told them that it would last a long time, and that you used one yourself before it got ruined by the tree. I can't wait for the tryouts Sunday!"

"Oh, you're trying out?" asked Harry. "For what position?"

"I wanted to try for seeker like you, but there are too many good ones trying," said Colin, eyeing Cho warily. Harry smiled despite his best efforts to keep a strait face, and winked at Cho. She blushed. "I thought maybe chaser, since I'm too small to be a beater or keeper."

"That's great, Colin," said Harry, before Ron interrupted.

"Harry, you've had an owl," said Ron with a meaningful look on his face. Hermione appeared by his side with the same look on his face. Ron waved Pigwidgeon, his tiny owl, and Harry noticed the muddy paw print on the front.

Harry clapped Colin on the shoulder, saying, "Let me know how it goes." He now turned to Cho. "Sorry, but I gotta go," he said, running his hand through his untidy hair uncomfortably. "I've been waiting for this letter for a while. It's from-" he went into a fit of coughing before he blurted out Sirius's name "-a friend of my parents," he recovered. "I'll talk to you later?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," said Cho, a trace of a smile on her face. "I should get going, anyway. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast."

Harry took his leave of Cho and joined Ron and Hermione at the staircase leading to Gryffindor Tower. Ron handed the letter to Harry, who hid it in a pocket of his robes until they reached his dormitory. Making double sure that nobody was within earshot, he tore open the note and read aloud:

Harry,

I can't explain everything in this letter in case it doesn't reach you. Hogsmeade is no longer safe for me, nor is my presence here helping your safety. It won't be too long before you hear from me again, but I must insist that you wait for me to contact you first. There are some things I have to inspect in that place we spoke of. In the meantime, I must warn you; be wary of the silver hand.

Snuffles

"Silver hand?" Ron asked. "I mean, he can't really be here, can he?"

"Sirius wouldn't have warned us if he thought otherwise," said Harry grimly. "He wouldn't throw up a flare unless he had good reason."

"But here, at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, her expression changing to a thoughtful one. "How could he hide without Dumbledore knowing?"

"The Chamber of Secrets was a well kept secret for a thousand years," said Harry. "I wish I had the Marauders Map back. He couldn't hide from that."

"Crookshanks," Ron said suddenly. "He knows about Pettigrew. Hermione, where's Crookshanks been lately?"

"Wandering, mostly," she said. "He hasn't spent much time in the Tower this year. I just thought he was getting bored."

"If only Sirius had said something earlier," said Harry bitterly. "He can communicate with Crookshanks when he's a dog. He could've sent your cat off hunting for him. Who else is there who can communicate with animals?"
"Professor McGonagall is an animagus," said Hermione, but Harry shook his head.

"She can't know about Sirius. She still thinks he's a murderer," said Harry. "We'd have to spill the beans about everything if we asked her. And that's assuming that she'd believe us."

"What about the griffin?" asked Ron. "They can communicate with animals.

"But Hagrid and Xander are the only ones who can talk to the griffin," Hermione pointed out. "Hagrid still thinks Snuffles is guilty, too. And we've only known Xander for two months. How do we know we can trust him?"

Harry let Ron and Hermione argue themselves into silence. He saw no point in joining in, since he couldn't think of anything to do himself. He found some comfort in the fact that if Sirius knew about Pettigrew being in the area, surely Dumbledore must know. By the time his dorm mates had entered the room, all arguments were exhausted, and they were no closer to a solution than they had been when they first read Sirius's letter. Harry thought himself into sleep, feeling more frustrated than ever.

Whenever they had a bit of privacy, the debate continued throughout the weekend. Ron pointed out that even though they didn't have the Marauders Map anymore, they still had the Invisibility Cloak they had used so much in the past. Hermione squashed the idea quickly, asking what good would being invisible do if they still didn't know how to find Pettigrew.

This wasn't what was truly bothering Harry, though. Since their discussion the day the letter arrived, he had been keeping an extra eye out for Crookshanks' presence, but the bandy-legged cat was nowhere to be seen. Of all the times he had secretly wished the cat would run away, he had picked a lousy time to answer Harry's wishes. In the end, they decided that asking Hagrid about any unusual number of rats running around the castle was the best solution at this point.

"Can' say I've noticed anythin' out 'o place," Hagrid said as the questioned him. They had decided to spend Sunday afternoon visiting with Hagrid, since it had been awhile since they've seen him and most of the school was watching the All Star tryouts anyway. "A place as big as the castle always has a bit of a problem with rats. It's expected. On'y, Professor Dumbledore asked me the same thing not three days ago. Why d'you ask?"

"I've had complaints from students about holes being chewed in their trunks," Hermione lied quickly, cleverly using her Prefect status to cover up. "Professor Dumbledore hasn't gotten back to me about it yet. We were just wondering if you've seen anything."

"Well, Tasslehoff has been killin' some rats for food," said Hagrid thoughtfully. "Griffins usually go fer bigger game like deer. Says he don' like rats scurryin' about his pen."

Ron appeared ready to ask more questions, but silenced himself with a shake of the head from Harry. Instead, Ron changed the subject to the International Quidditch tournament.

"Yeah, I been lookin' forward to it," said Hagrid brightly. "Xander did a fine job, buildin' those campsites fer the foreigners. Even Professor McGonagall couldn' find anythin' to criticize."

"How did he manage to build five of those buildings in a week?" asked Ron. It had been a question they meant to ask Xander, but something else always seemed to come up when they thought of it. There were now five extraordinarily constructed buildings, big enough to house several hundred people. They hadn't seen much of Xander that whole week he had detention, and Alicia certainly didn't let anybody forget he was outside in the torrential rain all ours of the night.

"He on'y built one o' them himself," said Hagrid, staring out the window. "McGonagall used a duplication spell for the other four."

"What's going on out there?" Hermione asked, jumping up to the window. There was suddenly a large amount of cawing going on, and upon further inspection, they could see a bunch of birds flying circles around the campsites, making a loud display about it. They flew off quickly, and Harry found it slightly odd that they all flew in a straight line, away from the Forbidden Forest.

"Weird," Ron commented.

"All the animals in the forest have bin actin' weird lately," said Hagrid. Harry's attention was quickly drawn from the window to Hagrid. "It's like they're afraid to leave their dens. Even the unicorns ain't bin runnin' around much. 'Spect it's bin the weather. No one knows if it's gonna be rainy or cold one day to the nex'."

Talk was cut off as they heard a loud horn coming from the Quidditch pitch, signaling the end of the tryouts. It was just as well, as it was now dinnertime, and Harry's rumbling stomach reminded him about his hunger (he had passed up Hagrid's offer for lunch, which was something Hagrid named "Pot Luck Platter", and suspiciously appeared to be a weeks worth of leftovers all ground together).

Harry learned from the talk over dinner that the Hogwarts team would be chosen over the coming week, and practices beginning on Saturday. Angelina wasted no time in scheduling their own training sessions, beginning Monday. Harry hated to sound anything less than excited over Quidditch, but he had been training so much this year that the week off they had after the Quidditch Cup seemed to fly by.

Many of the people who tried out were talking about Xander and Davies. Apparently, they had put on such a display of ability and skill that most assumed right away that they had two of the three chaser positions locked up. Colin Creevey, as promised, came over to talk to Harry about his tryout.

"Hey Harry!" he said brightly.

"Hey, Colin, how'd you do?" Harry asked, wanting to get right to the point, otherwise Colin would have him there all day talking about nothing.

"I did really good!" he shrieked. "I was one of the fasted fliers, and I did really good when we scrimmaged. Everyone thought I'd be a joke, but we showed them, didn't we, Harry?"

"Yeah, you sure did," said Harry, trying hard not to laugh as hard as Ron was. "Who d'you think is gonna be seeker?" he asked Colin, wishing he had been there to watch Cho.

"Krum looked like he liked Malfoy the best," Colin continued excitedly, thrilled to be talking Quidditch with Harry. "He caught the snitch the most, but your girlfriend was right up there, too."

"My girlfriend?" Harry asked, turning four shades of red, already knowing what Colin was about to say.

"Yeah, Cho Chang," said Colin immediately. "The whole school's been talking about you two ever since the Cheers Movie."

"Great," moaned Harry. Hermione was giggling uncontrollably now, and Harry had the sudden urge to hide under the table. Colin was speaking so loudly that half of the Gryffindor Table was now watching them.

"I should go eat now. Gotta keep my weight up in case I make it. Bye, Harry! Thanks!" Colin called as he walked to join his group of friends.

"So," Ron began, a wicked grin on his face. "How's married life treating you?"

"Shut up," said Harry, slouching further in his seat. "Why didn't Ginny say anything? I thought she was the Gossip Queen of Hogwarts?"

"Reckon she's a bit jealous. Half the boys who ask her out 'Don't compare to Harry'," said Ron, imitating Ginny's voice. Almost on cue, Ginny walked over and sat down next to Hermione with a broad smile on her face.

"You're in a good mood," Hermione pointed out, looking at Ginny.

"I have a date next weekend," she said quietly to Hermione, but Ron overheard.

"With who?" he asked her stiffly.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," said Ginny, pleased that she had gotten such a rise out of Ron. "And you're going to leave him alone, right? You promised."

Ron grumbled to himself, not liking his promise being thrown back at him. "Why didn't you tell us that the whole school thinks Harry and Cho Chang are formal?" he asked.

It was Ginny's turn to sour. "I didn't think it was true so I didn't say anything," she said, a bit more snippy than she ordinarily would have been. "I have homework," she said, standing up and leaving the Great Hall.

"What's gotten into her this year?" asked Ron, watching her retreating form.

Harry walked into Potions class Tuesday, finding himself wishing he had been sick or broken some sort of bone. Malfoy had the whole of the Slytherins surrounding him, some shaking his hand, others cooing as he smiled at them. It didn't take long for Harry to find out the cause of Malfoy's sudden rise in popularity; he had been chosen as seeker for the All Star team. Crabbe and Goyle were doing a mock interview.

"So how do you feel being an All Star seeker?" Goyle asked clumsily, holding his wand under Malfoy's lips like a microphone.

"Well, it's an honor, but no real surprise. Everyone knows that I'm the best Hogwarts has to offer. Potter's lucky streak has come to an end." Malfoy wore a very smug look, staring into Harry's eyes as he said the last part.

Ron couldn't take very much of this taunting. He held his own wand to his lips. "And what about the fact that statistically, you have more bludger hits than snitch captures?" He held it to Malfoy's lips, waiting for an answer.

Snape swept into the room at the exact wrong minute. Surveying the scene, he quickly settled into the vindictive mood he had become infamous for. "Ten points, Weasley, for brandishing a wand against a fellow student in my classroom," he said sourly. Goyle's wand had mysteriously disappeared. "Sit down, or it'll be fifty and a detention."

Thankfully, the Slytherins broke into laughter loud enough to hide Ron's rude comment and the noise his books made as he slammed them down on the table. His mood didn't improve when Snape introduced the new lesson.

"By know, I expect that you all should be well into your studies for your O.W.L.'s," he said silkily, not without an evil look in Neville's direction. "You should have a grasp of the theories behind Potion-making, and be able to put that basic knowledge to use. I will be giving the class a scenario, and you have one week to develop and correctly brew the proper potion."

Neville looked near collapse. Xander had to catch him before he fell off his stool, which Snape would gladly have used as an excuse to deduct further points from Gryffindor. Snape began writing on the blackboard, the class following suit in their note books.

The Periodic Table of the Elements developed by Muggles has been put to great use in the study of Potions by wizards for centuries. By knowing the relationships a group of elements posses, they have been able to make adjustments in their studies for those who are otherwise incapable of handling the original mixture by substituting a weaker substance in place of the original, thereby altering the side effects.

A Teleportation Charm has been placed upon an object, whisking the first person to touch it to a predetermined location, similar to a Portkey. A Portkey, however, does not render the user mute and Disillusioned. A healthy wizard and one with an ailment, such as a werewolf bite, are each in danger of coming in contact with such an object. A potion does exist that will prevent the user of said object from being teleported in the first place, thereby saving them from the side effects and the danger of being rendered helpless in an unknown environment. Develop said potion, making changes for each specific case.

"One week for this?" Harry muttered in amazement. Snape heard Harry's voice, but not his words, so all he could do is give Harry the look of loathing he could only give the son of James Potter.

"You may now begin your study. Waste no time, as you will surely need all of it," said Snape, with a wry grin crossing his lips. He allowed students to go to the library if they wished, but since Malfoy had gone, Harry chose to stay in class and study the Periodic Table. If he had only one week to complete such a complicated assignment, he needed to concentrate, not be distracted by Malfoy's presence.

Hermione, who already had a thorough understanding of the Periodic Table, delved immediately into her Potions book, searching for some sort of potion that might lead them in the right way. Her annoying habit of thinking out loud distracted Harry.

"No, we don't want to petrify them, they won't be much better off... poison prevention... no, they're not in danger of being poisoned...A Confundus potion might work, they'd forget all about the object..."

"You are to work alone, Miss Granger," Snape croaked. "Any help given will result in detention."

Hermione continued studying in silence, a sour look on her face. Harry wasn't having much luck with the Periodic Table, as he couldn't quite understand the difference between the Alkalie Metals and the Earth Alkalie Metals; they looked the same to him. Then there was an entire group removed from the middle of the table called the Transitional Metals, which disrupted several columns. To top it off, there was a line drawn around several elements, removing them from one group and putting them into another.

"What kind of moron developed this table?" Harry asked bitterly after class was dismissed. "If it's supposed to group them together by properties, then why separate so many of them in the same column?"

"And what do all the numbers in the corners mean?" Ron chimed in, his hair messed up from continually running his hand through it in frustration.

"I know one shows the Atomic Weight," Seamus began before Hermione cut him off.

"Atomic Mass," she corrected, drawing an exasperated look from Seamus. "Weight and mass are two different things. With weight, you have to factor in relative gravity, whereas with mass-"

"Enough!" Ron held up his hand. He kept running his hand through his hair as they walked up from the dungeon.

"What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked testily.

"My brain itches," he said, his hand going through his hair several more times, drawing laughs from the Gryffindors. "We have to figure out a table that took centuries to develop, then research an unknown potion, and make changes to it for werewolves, all within a week. Plus we have Quidditch practice every day this week."

"I reckon your right, Ron," said Dean. "Snape's just plain evil."

It was an exhausting week for Harry and Ron. Angelina was working them double hard in practice, not caring about the assignment given them by Snape. She revealed that along with Malfoy, a Slytherin chaser and their keeper made the All Star team, along with Xander and Davies at chaser, and a beater each from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. She was resembling Oliver Wood more and more these days, coming up with complicated charts and game plans to defend against this mix.

Hermione was well ahead of everyone in their research, and growing steadily more irritable the more they all asked for her help. Xander, however, didn't mind bending Snape's rule of working on their own, and gave several lessons about the Periodic Table every evening in the Common Room. It made much more sense by the weekend, and most of the Gryffindor fifth years promised nothing short than having a bronze statue of Xander built.

Harry's brain felt on the verge of swelling to a size too large to fit into his head. He was continually frustrated by the overload of work, not finding the time to search for Pettigrew. Cho, whom Harry was finding easier to talk to the more the chatted, helped with Harry's research as best she could, taking the time to find the ingredients and procedure for the Wolfsbane Potion, an immensely complicated concoction that rendered a werewolf relatively harmless during a full moon. He shared whatever information he found with everyone, and in no time they were equal with Hermione in her research. After finding the potion Snape spoke of, they finally figured out that they needed to substitute copper for silver in the case of the werewolf, and helium for neon in the case of the wizard.

Thinking they might surprise Snape by handing in the assignment early, Harry and Ron set off for the dungeons Friday afternoon. In passing the bulletin board, they saw another notice posted in Professor McGonagall's handwriting.

At noon on Saturday, all students are to report to the grounds in front of the front doors to welcome the delegations for the International Scholastic Quidditch Cup. I expect all of you to be properly dressed and prepared to greet our guests.

"Finally," said Ron. "We get to see who we're up against."

They continued walking down to the dungeons, discussing the tournament and the upcoming Hogwarts Championship match. Arriving at Snape's office, they unintentionally overheard Snape talking in a low voice.

"The mark has been burning almost constantly this week," he was saying. "I'm not certain exactly what it portends."

"We can only hope for the best, but we must assume the worst," came Dumbledore's quiet voice. He carried the tone of worry, and was breathing rather harshly.

Thinking it best to avoid disrupting the conversation, they dropped their assignments off in Snape's classroom and quickly exited the dungeons. Too cautious to speak until they reached Gryffindor Tower, they called Hermione over to a vacant corner and filled her in on what they heard.

"And what exactly was 'the worst'?" she asked when they finished.

"We don't know," said Ron. "We left before they found out we heard."

"But what does it mean? His mark burning all week? We haven't heard anything about any attacks," said Hermione, trying but failing to sound confident.

"I still want to know why Dumbledore trusts Snape so much," Ron said quietly.

"What I want to know," Harry said in an even quieter voice, "is where Snape gets his information from."