Harry Potter and the Return to the Riddle House

Chapter Six

Draco's Detour

The air of triumph and success over the dingy house lasted for the whole week preceding Harry's return to Hogwarts. On September first, Hermione woke him at the crack of dawn, and he spent the morning rushing around, rounding up the last of his possessions and grabbing quick pieces of toast. Soon, he was ready to go to King's Cross station, but Ron was having trouble finding Pigwideon, and Hermione could not catch Crookshanks. So Harry joined Rachel in the front room, looking out of the window next to the stitched-shut curtains that hid a certain grim portrait. She glanced sideways at him and smiled, but she looked a little unhappy.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," she replied. "I'm just nervous, I guess. I mean, Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in Britain, and I'm starting all new in the sixth year, and I don't know anybody, and..." She smiled again. "Just the usual stuff. Plus... Chris came last night and took Ian, and... well, I just miss him a bit." Her grin faded a little. Harry felt stupid; now she didn't even have her little brother, of course she'll be lonely, and here he is, having her talk about it.... But before he could think of how to change the subject, Hermione entered the room, carrying Crookshanks and followed by Ginny and a slightly sooty Ron.

"Stupid little owl-git, he was in the chimney..."

Mrs. Weasley came through the door with a few bananas and a hassled expression.

"Come on, now, we're going to miss the train, and Ginny, have a banana, you hardly ate..."

They walked to King's Cross like last year, Rachel looking more nervous with every step. Mrs. Weasley finally cracked and put a Silencing Charm on Pig so he wouldn't twitter in the station and draw even more attention to them. Once they got to the lobby, they walked toward platform number nine, trying to look normal, although accompanied by two owls, which are not commonplace in the Muggle world. They reached the barrier dividing platform nine from platform ten.

"Now Harry, Ron, take Rachel with you; she's never done this," Mrs. Weasley said quietly. Harry jerked his head and she followed him to the stone barrier. The others spread out a little to hide them, and Harry leaned against the barrier.

"What do we do now?" Rachel said.

"Just do what I do, look like we're only talking or something," he said. So Rachel rested her shoulder against the stone, with a curious look. Suddenly, they slid through the barrier and were standing in the middle of a large, chattering crowd in front of a familiar scarlet steam engine. Rachel was gazing around with an awed expression on her face. Harry looked at her and grinned. In a few moments, they were joined by Ginny and Hermione, then Mrs. Weasley. She gave them all a last quick hug and a banana, reminded them to stay out of trouble, and told them to help Rachel find her classes. They gave her their goodbyes, then hurried aboard to find seats. Harry, Ron, and Hermione waved and nodded to people they knew from their classes while Rachel stayed behind them, uneasily silent and attracting a few curious looks. They found an empty compartment and slid the door shut. Rachel sat next to the window and Harry sank into the seat across from her.

"What classes do you have, Rachel?" Hermione asked. Rachel pulled her letter out of her pocket.

"Um... Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions," she replied. "And I needed another non-N.E.W.T. class, so I took History of Magic, like you all." She paused. "Should I have taken Beginning Divination?"

"No!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione all said in unison.

The rest of the train journey passed without remarkable incident. Ron and Hermione strolled the corridor from time to time, as prefects, but left that mostly up to the new fifth-year ones. At lunch, Ginny and Luna Lovegood, a buggy sort of girl from Ravenclaw, joined them all for Cauldron Cakes and it began to rain, as usual. As the sky behind the clouds began to darken, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Rachel left to change into their robes, and Ron and Harry were talking, when the compartment door slid open. They looked up and scowled immediately. Standing in the doorframe was Draco Malfoy, pale and smirking, and, behind him, his unseemly thugs, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Potter, Weasley," he said in his drawling voice. "Made it through the summer, I see."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry said aggressively. Malfoy leaned closer.

"He's out, Potter," he whispered maliciously. "Dad. He broke out of there in about a week. You didn't accomplish anything. You think you can stop him?" He laughed softly. "Please! He's pretty annoyed at you now, though. Think about that for a while."

Harry truly saw red. But Malfoy just laughed again, turned, and strode out into the main walkway. Harry pulled out his wand and jumped up, but Ron grabbed his arm.

"He's not worth it, Harry."

Harry would have cursed him anyway, but he was already around the corner. He threw himself into the chair, breathing heavily. Just when he had stopped thinking about Sirius every other bloody second, he brings up last summer... and to insinuate he was afraid of his stupid father... that... that.... He was stuttering incomprehensively.

"I know, mate, just leave it."

The girls walked in, wearing their robes.

"So, Harry, do you think... Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione said, alarmed. Harry shook his head, staring out the window and taking deep breaths again.

"Malfoy," Ron muttered.

"Oh..." Hermione looked anxiously at him.

"Um... who?" Rachel said timidly.

"Nobody," Harry replied firmly. "Exploding Snap?"

They all followed his lead and played cards until the train started to slow, then grinded to a halt. They left the compartment and joined the crowd again, moving towards the exit. Rachel was looking pale. Once outside in the rain, which was mercifully not very heavy, Harry felt a rush of excitement in his stomach. He was finally here.... He looked around happily at the lake, waved at Hagrid, who was calling to the first years, and saw the large carriages drawn by thestrals... then pushed the memory of the last time he rode one out of his mind. He was not going to think about that today, either. He jostled through the crowd towards the carriages, and turned to Rachel, saying,

"Just follow me, then--" But Hagrid, whose familiar cry of 'Firs' years, this way... firs' years...' had been filling Harry's ears, suddenly shouted,

"Oy, you there... Rachel? Rachel Connor?"

Rachel turned toward him, and her gaze traveled slowly upward. An uneasy look appeared on her face. Hagrid gave her a friendly smile.

"You're with me too, now..."

"Oh, um... okay..." she said quietly.

"That's Hagrid," Harry muttered, because she still looked nervous. "He's nice, don't worry."

"Alright... um, I guess I'll see you later." She faced him and he smiled.

"Yeah, we'll be at the feast with you," he responded. He felt odd; he wanted her to stay with him. With them, not him. Rachel made her way to Hagrid, who grinned again encouragingly. She gave a small smile back.

Harry climbed into the mildewing carriage with Ron, Hermione, and Seamus Finnigan, and it rumbled away towards the castle. They reached the gates and filed towards the castle, but Harry saw Malfoy sneaking away... with a quick glance at Professor McGonagall and Malfoy's taunts still ringing in his ears, he slipped out of line and followed him closely.

Malfoy lead Crabbe and Goyle down the empty passages, headed towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They were muttering darkly and laughing. Harry wished for his Invisibility Cloak, but had to satisfy himself with ducking into shadowy corners and alcoves. Luckily, the Slytherins were too busy staying out of sight themselves to notice him.

They reached the classroom and Malfoy glanced over his shoulder. He pulled a handful of Dungbombs and what Harry recognized as Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes fireworks. They weren't good enough to have them... Malfoy started to prod one of the Dungbombs with his wand when a shout came from behind him, startling Harry and making Crabbe nearly fall over.

"DRACO MALFOY!"

Professor McGonagall was headed down the corridor, her mouth perilously thin. Harry, satisfied that they were in for it, quickly went back down the hallway, entered the Great Hall through the bathroom adjoining it and sat down at the Gryffindor Table. Tiny Professor Flitwick, filling in for McGonagall, cleared his throat and read another name from the list he was holding. Harry watched "Baxter, Arabella" try on the ancient, ragged Sorting Hat and become a Hufflepuff, then "Brice, David" became a Gryffindor, then "Deacon, Kaleb" through "Washington, Jessica" (both Ravenclaw) were Sorted. Finally, with "Ybarra, Rosalyn" in Slytherin, the Sorting seemed over. Harry was confused, they had passed the C's long ago, but Rachel was still standing in the middle of the Great Hall, looking puzzled and glancing around nervously. Dumbledore stood up.

"Although it may seem unusual to some of you, we have taken a new student into the sixth year. She will, I am sure, be welcomed by all of you." He waved his hand towards the Sorting Hat, saying, "Rachel Connor."

Rachel walked up to the front of the hall, blushing avidly now that the whole school was staring at her, and sat on the stool. Professor Flitwick handed her the Hat and she put it on, folding her hands nervously in her lap. Harry had not thought of this, it seemed natural for her to be placed in Slytherin; her father was Head of Slytherin House. But Harry had known her for a few months now, and she did not seem like a Slytherin. He supposed he had always assumed she would be in Gryffindor with the rest of them, but he had never thought about it. The Hat was taking a while. Harry heard Ron moan with hunger behind him. They had been waiting for a full half a minute when the rip near the hat's brim opened wide; Harry leaned foreword as it seemed to make its final decision, and yelled...

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped and moved over so Rachel could sit down; she descended next to him and looked glad it was over. Harry snuck a glance at Snape, who looked rather startled. Dumbledore stood up, and when the clapping died down, said,

"Now, you must be expecting a speech, but as I am quite as hungry as you are, it shall have to wait. Eat, eat!"

The first years gasped as plates and plates of food appeared on the tables at his words, and a buzz of speech immediately ignited. For a few minutes there was silence around Harry's particular region of the table as everybody helped themselves to the delicious feast, then Seamus turned to Rachel and said,

"So, did you just move here or something?"

"Yeah, over the summer," Rachel replied. Noticing her accent, probably, Dean asked,

"Where are you from?"

"Vermont; but my parents..." She cleared her throat. "My parents lived in Kenmare when I was a baby."

Dean nodded and returned to his pot roast. Harry glanced at Rachel, but she was talking to Hermione with a normal tone and expression. Ron glared at Dean for no apparent reason, although Harry noticed Ginny sitting next to him. Hermione poked Ron and gave him a cut-it-out look, and Harry hid his amused grin. Meanwhile, Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, was gliding over the table and greeting all the first years. When he reached Harry, he paused and settled over a bowl of mashed potatoes.

"Hey, Nick," Harry said.

"Welcome back, young Potter, welcome back! And who is this?"

He floated down in front of Rachel.

"I'm Rachel," she said, and reflexively extended her hand. "Uh... sorry.... You must be Nearly Headless Nick, I've heard of you."

Nick nodded politely and tightened the ruff around his neck.

"Um... how are you--?

Nick, who was normally a bit sensitive about his slipshod execution, sighed a little and cut her off flatly, with the air of one getting something annoying out the way,

"Yes, yes, I suppose of course you'd be curious. Ah, well." And he swept of his plumed hat, held his left ear, and gave a tug. His head flopped resolutely on his shoulder. A group of first years nearby stared, and Rachel's eyes widened. Nick looked somewhat pleased.

"Cool..." she said under her breath.

Harry laughed, and everyone chatted happily as they ate through the dinner, and then the enticing desserts. When the final bits of apple pie and éclair had been devoured, Dumbledore stood up again and cleared his throat with an odd little 'hem hem'. Harry laughed along with everybody else older than first year; his impression was almost as good as Ginny's.

"Now, I am afraid I must make those announcements, before we all fall asleep in our chairs. Firstly, those of you who were here three years ago will remember Professor Remus Lupin, who is kindly filling the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher once again." He paused to allow for the applause, which was absolutely thundering among the older students. Lupin stood up and smiled, nodded to a few people, and sat back down. Dumbledore clapped and, when he had their attention once more, resumed his messages.

"Secondly, I would like to let the first years know, along with the older students who simply cannot seem to get their minds around it, that the Forbidden Forest along the grounds is, obviously, forbidden. And thirdly, Professors Trelawny and Firenze, neither of whom could make it to the feast tonight, will be sharing the responsibility of Divination class. Now, if the Prefects would please lead the first years to their dormitories, I am sure we would all like to get to bed."

Ron and Hermione, with the new Gryffindor prefects, whom Harry did not know, lead the first years and Rachel along the well-know path to Gryffindor Tower. They reached the portrait of the fat lady in the pink silk dress, and gave her the password ('Spattergriot'), which touched a bit of a nerve with Ron. Hermione and Ginny showed Rachel up the stairs to the girls' rooms, and Harry and Ron went to the boys', eagerly anticipating their warm feather mattresses. Neville Longbottom happily showed them his new wand, ('twelve and a quarter inches long, cherry, with a dragon heartstring core!') and his Mimbulus Mimbltonia, which was had grown very large over the summer and now purred when petted. It was towering over a picture of Neville with his grandmother, which was cracked as Neville had dropped it minutes earlier. Harry lay under his covers and listened to the soothing sounds of the rain, the wind, and Ron, cursing and attempting to catch Pig and stuff him in his cage. He lay back on his pillow and smiled, finally home, and fell asleep immediately.

Chapter Seven

Quidditch Tryouts

Harry and Ron awoke and dressed quickly the next morning, and hurried down to the Great Hall for breakfast and their schedules. They met Hermione and Rachel already eating, and Harry got their agendas from Professor McGonagall.

"I've got Defense Against the Dark Arts first this morning," he said. "Then Herbology, Potions, and lunch." He looked up. "What about you three?"

"I've got Arithmancy first, but Herbology and Potions with you," Hermione said. "Rachel, don't you have all those?"

It turned out Harry had most of his classes with Rachel and Ron, and several with Hermione. When the first bell sounded, they hurried down the entrance hall and through a side corridor, and they were in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom in no time. Harry picked a seat in the front row, Ron sat on his right and Rachel on his left. Professor Lupin stood in front of his desk, nodding to the students as they came in and ticking their names off the register. When they were all there, he smiled and held up his hand. The talking stopped quickly.

"Welcome to Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said. "I am exceptionally proud to see you all here, and let me first congratulate you on what must have been an excellent O.W.L. score. You may notice that we are a rather mixed class, a group of Gryffindors here, a Ravenclaw there.... This is the case for all your N.E.W.T. classes, as not everyone in all houses made the cut. There are also some seventh years who chose to take this first term again, to better prepare for their N.E.W.T.s at the end of this year."

Harry glanced around the room. He noticed, to his displeasure, Malfoy sitting a few rows behind him, but unsurprisingly, dull-witted Crabbe and Goyle were not present. To his far right was Neville Longbottom, who looked determined, clutching his new wand tightly. Harry was not as surprised as he would have been; he remembered how far Neville progressed in the D.A. last year, and was happy for him. Lupin smiled at him especially and continued.

"Now, much of this year will concentrate on recognizing curses and learning their countercharms, while most of your Dark creatures are already taken care of, or will be by Professor Hagrid. Now, if you'll turn to page 3, we'll just be reading and lecturing today, but by tomorrow I promise we'll do some practical work, you certainly had plenty of reading last year..."

When the lesson was over, Harry, Ron, and Rachel strode into the courtyard to meet Hermione, and then they walked together to the greenhouses. Professor Sprout handed them each a small pot at the as they entered, and when they were all standing around the center table, shut the door and turned to face them.

"This year, I thought I'd give my N.E.W.T.s a little project," she said. "I will be giving you all dirt, fertilizer, and Panaeolus seeds. You will grow a plant each, and you may experiment with different fertilizers or soils whatnot if you wish, but be advised that a portion of your final exam grade will be how healthy your plant is. We will work on them at least a few lessons a week all year; today we're sowing."

The class looked up Panaeolus in their textbooks and discovered it was a large, fleshy plant exactly like an outsized toadstool, except it had roots and bore fruit. They were colorful and sometimes grew to ten or eleven inches in diameter. Harry took a lump of soil and planted his seeds, and went to get some dragon dung to spread over them. As he reached into the bag, he felt his arm skim against somebody else's. He looked up and Rachel was next to him, trying to balance her pot and watering can. His stomach contracted oddly.

"Sorry," she said, turning faintly pink, and her ceramic pot tilted and began to fall. Harry caught it before it shattered and scooped some fertilizer into it.

"Thank you," Rachel said gratefully as he put it on the table for her, and smiled at him. Harry grinned back and realized he was unusually happy she had. As he walked back to Gryffindor Tower with the rest of his classmates to wash up, he found himself wondering why it had to be the dung....

***

After Herbology came Potions, which Harry was, needless to say, most dreading. He didn't even know why he was in the class, his grades weren't the impossibly high average Snape usually demanded for his N.E.W.T. classes. He supposed he would find out eventually. Harry started to feel a bit of warmth creeping into his face, Snape was the reason he thought Sirius was still in Voldemort's clutches last year, he had been Harry's very last hope... of course, he was standing right in front of Umbridge, he couldn't very well say he knew exactly what Harry was talking about, but a nod, a glance, was that so hard to sneak in his direction? Harry swallowed hard. Potions. He should concentrate.

Snape swept into room just then, looking as pale and sour as he always did. The door shut behind him with a bang.

"Sit down," he snapped at a Ravenclaw boy, who scurried to his seat. "Many of you are probably wondering why you are here today. Much to my disappointment, such a pathetic number of you were qualified for my regular advanced sixth year classes that I was forced to include also the students who managed an E on their O.W.L.s; otherwise this class would consist of about six people. Dumbledore felt I should take more, so I allowed those lucky few as well." He paused, glaring around the room like a hawk. "This does not mean, however, that I will be relaxing my standards. I expect just as much from each one of you, and will not tolerate more failure." He paused again, and flicked his wand at the blackboard.

"Today I will test you on your knowledge of ingredient reactions, which was a particularly weak area. Combine the items on the board, they make a simple enough formula for aching joints. However, it is missing one component, without which the Clabbert blood and stewed acacia leaves will react, and the potion will be useless. You need to find that ingredient and add it in time. Start."

Harry mixed the potion quickly, it was uncomplicated. Then he went through his mind thinking about the missing factor. He remembered Snape talking about this, what did he say...? Harry's greenish potion was turning rapidly from a thin liquid to a viscous syrup, and was beginning to smoke. Behind him, somebody's potion suddenly fizzed up, almost out of his cauldron, and smoke billowed in a dark puff.

"Too late, Stebbins," Snape said coldly, and vanished his potion with a wave of his wand. He paced down the aisles, lashing out occasionally,

"Come on! Have I taught you nothing?"

Harry wracked his brain. Anderberry extract! That was supposed to be a 'universal base', right? Relieved, he grabbed some out of his bag. His potion was looking worse every second, so he quickly uncorked the bottle and emptied a few drops in. But his potion, instead of settling like Hermione's right next to him, hissed and sparks shot out of it. He saw a few other potions sparking out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, his cauldron was empty. He glanced up and saw Snape behind him, his lip curled maliciously.

"Wrong, Potter, as usual," he said smoothly.

Harry was angry, but Snape walked away to vanish somebody else's potion before he could react. He was also confused. What had he done wrong? When all the potions had been vanished or wafted away, Snape stalked to the front of the class.

"Well?" he said sharply. "Did anybody manage to salvage their potion?"

Hermione raised her hand, and so did a boy in the back row, and Rachel. Snape turned to her.

"Connor? What did you use?"

"Um-- essence of belladonna."

He strode towards her desk, frowning slightly.

"And why didn't you use the anderberry?"

"Well-- the Clabbert blood has too much iron, doesn't it? And anderberry will react to iron, so with that and the acacia, it would just... um... fizzle up and spark...."

She trailed off nervously. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"And what if the potion had a vaporous reactant? Arcanine or such?"

Harry couldn't even understand the question. Rachel looked thoughtful.

"Ah... Sercius leaf, because it wouldn't dissolve too quickly or weigh down the mist?"

Snape looked somewhat impressed (for Snape). He asked her three or four more questions, each harder than the last, naming ingredients Harry had never heard of and complex brewing techniques. Rachel paused after each one, but answered them all. Hermione said 'wow' under her breath. Those had to be at least N.E.W.T. level subjects, at the very least....

Snape finally straightened up, slowly. The corners of Rachel's lips were barely lifted.

"Impressive enough," he said quietly, which was a very high compliment to anybody not in Slytherin. Then, regaining his general acidic disposition, he returned to his desk and said,

"Anyone who could not retrieve their potion is to hand in two rolls of parchment on various reaction calmers, their properties, and when to use each one, to be handed in next class."

The bell rang, but Harry groaned inwardly. Snape always gave horrible assignments.

Harry was glad it was lunchtime; he was quite hungry. He sat with Ron, Hermione, and Rachel, and loaded his plate with steak-and-kidney pie, which Rachel found suspicious for some reason and poked with her fork before sampling.

After lunch Harry was rather full and sleepy, which was unfortunate as he had Remedial History of Magic next, and Hermione wasn't there to take notes. He, Ron, and Rachel truly did try to catch all the important bits of Professor Binns' long goblin war speech, but Harry lost consciousness shortly after the assassination of Filbok the Fierce, which was bloody and mutinous and still quite dull in Binns' transparent hands. Ron figured Hermione would probably have it from a previous year anyway.

When Harry retired to the common room that night, the first thing that caught his eye was a bright leaflet pinned to the notice board, stating that Quidditch tryouts were to be held one week from that day. Harry wondered if he was back on the team, Umbridge had given him a lifelong ban last year, but Umbridge was long gone...

His answer came to him the next day, when Professor McGonagall held him back after Transfiguration.

"Potter, I should tell you that as Team Captain, you need to be on the Quidditch pitch by at least four forty-five on Monday to--"

"As what?" Harry said. Professor McGonagall looked faintly annoyed at being interrupted.

"What do you mean, 'as what'? As Captain, didn't Katie Bell tell you?"

Harry shook his head numbly.

"Well, I've appointed you Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team," McGonagall said starkly. "Angelina Johnson recommended you before she left last year. Anyway, as Captain, you ought to be at the pitch by four forty-five on Monday to pick your new Chasers and Beater, Angelina and Alicia Spinnet have graduated and Andrew Kirke told me this morning that he quit. That is all, I just wanted to remind you..." She nodded toward the door, indicating he could go.

Harry stood for a moment, shocked, until he realized he was going to be late for dinner. He thanked McGonagall, stammering slightly, and rushed to find Ron, Hermione, and Rachel. He told them excitedly about the news.

"Alright, Harry!"

"Congratulations!"

"I guess this won't hurt my chances, will it?" said Rachel with a grin.

"Are you trying out?" Harry asked her, surprised. He suddenly remembered seeing her carrying a broomstick up to the girls' dormitory the other night.

"Yeah, I was thinking about it," she said. "I played for my old school for four and a half years, I got pretty good. I'm a Chaser," she said, before he could ask.

"What kind of broom have you got?" Ron asked.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand. I saved up for nearly two years to get it and the week after I brought it home, the Two Thousand and One came out." She sighed. "Oh well, that's the way it goes. Still a damn good broom."

They began an enthusiastic talk of tactics and teams (Rachel, a very avid Kenmare Kestrels fan, got into an excellent argument with Ron about his Chudley Cannons) that would have continued throughout the meal if Rachel hadn't suddenly noticed Hermione and changed the topic to classes, which was a nice thing to do, except Rachel had chosen to ask her about her Ancient Runes class. They therefore spent most of dessert rather bored.

On the afternoon of the tryouts, Harry, who had been catching up on a little homework, suddenly realized he had no idea how to choose a Chaser or a Beater. He had always assumed he would just watch some blokes fly around a bit and would see who would make a good Quidditch player, but what if it wasn't obvious? He knew what to look for in a Seeker, but he only had a rough idea about the other positions. So he was quite nervous the rest of the day, and at five o'clock, when the tryouts were supposed to start, he was waiting in the stands with the rest of the existing team, figuring out what to say to the growing group of people in front of him. When it seemed nobody else was coming, he stood up.

"Okay, I want Katie to try a few simple plays with whoever's trying out for Chaser," he said, trying to sound authoritative and like he knew what he was doing. "Chasers, go stand with her, Beaters, go wait in the seats with Sloper. Any other team members, er, I mean, Ron, go to your post."

Katie stood with Ginny, Rachel, a fourth year Harry barely recognized, and her friend, another sixth year he thought was called Natalie MacDonald.

"Um, let's have Rachel and Ginny with Katie first, do you know the Hawkshead Formation?"

Ginny nodded and Rachel said "Easy." They took off, Katie carrying the Quaffle, and Harry rose beside them, watching carefully. They went through a few simple formations Harry happened to know reasonably well, from being on the team and around Chasers for five years. Ginny was very good, but Rachel was excellent. She swooped around easily, tossing the ball to Katie and Ginny so fast it always took Harry a few seconds to notice she was no longer holding it, and sinking a fair number of goals past Ron. When they had gone through a few plays, Harry blew the whistle he had inherited from Angelina, and Oliver Wood before her.

"Good," he said when they touched down. "Ginny, you make an even better Chaser than Seeker, and Rachel..." he didn't know what to say, exactly. Thankfully, Katie interrupted and finished for him.

"That was amazing!" she said.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "Where did you learn to fly like that?"

"It's nothing," Rachel said, blushing but smiling slightly. "I just... practiced to the point of obsession, that's all..."

Harry laughed and then watched the fourth year, Melody Simmons, and MacDonald, but MacDonald kept dropping the Quaffle and Simmons, while pretty good, was nowhere near Rachel or Ginny. He said he would watch the Beaters and tell everybody at the end of the tryout, but he already knew who he wanted to be his Chasers.

It was actually fairly easy to choose the Beater as well; he simply released the Bludgers and saw who hit them hardest and farthest. It was a close call between Sam McClaggan and Hailey Morgan, both second years, until Hailey hit a Bludger clear across the field and it slammed into the end of Sloper's broom, causing it to splinter even from that distance. He repaired it with a wave of his wand, looking embarrassed.

Harry met the group on the ground, wondering how to break the news.

"Ah.... Well, you all flew very well, but um, I can only choose two Chasers and one Beater... So, for the Chasers..." he glanced at Katie's group, and hoped he wouldn't hurt any feelings. Simmons was looking rather apprehensive. "Um, I want Connor and Weasley--"

"You're just choosing them because they're your friends!" Natalie MacDonald shouted, cutting him off. "I shouldn't have even bothered coming--"

Harry was startled, but Melody Simmons, looking mortified, grabbed her friend around the arm and apologized profusely to Harry.

"I'm so sorry, she's just disappointed..." Natalie was starting to look embarrassed herself.

"Uh... that's okay, it's... no problem..." Harry said, still surprised. They hurried off towards the castle. There was an odd pause.

"Look, mate, I can't say I won't be disappointed if I'm not chosen, but I promise I won't do that," McClaggan said. Everyone laughed, and Harry was grateful.

"Um, for Beater, I, er, want Morgan... er... sorry, Sam..."

But Sam was probably suspecting he wasn't going to be it, he nodded and shook hands with Hailey, and walked back to the castle with the other Beaters wearing a good-natured smile.

Harry felt rather guilty as he headed up to Gryffindor Tower with Rachel and Ron, but couldn't help being excited, in the back of his mind. This year's lineup was going to be excellent....