Harry Potter and the Year of Revelations

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Chapter 9: Reaching Out To You

They both jumped up, knowing that they had to hide. Isabelle quickly put the remaining food back into the basket and as she picked up the blanket, it shrunk back into the size of a napkin. Still, they couldn't go out without being seen. They hesitated, as the footsteps grew louder. Harry realized what they had to do. He took out his invisibility cloak, grabbed Isabelle's hand and they hurried together into the deeper part of the cave. He lay down on the ground and motioned for her to join him. "I'll throw the cloak over us both," he whispered.

Nodding, Isabelle lay down in front of him, spooning her body to him. As Harry's inheritance fell over them, they became unseeable to the world, creating one for them alone as they waited, holding their breath for the approaching people, for they could hear two. Then suddenly, two figures appeared. Being taller than Isabelle, Harry could see over her head who they were. He realized with a shock that a mystery had been revealed.

One of the two people was Hermione and the other was Regis Niemi. They sat down close to where Harry and Isabelle were lying. Actually, first Regis sat down, then Hermione into his lap. Within seconds, they were kissing feverishly. Harry could hardly believe it. He had thought of the possibility, but dismissed it. No wonder, she was so secretive, after all, she was the girlfriend of the student teacher and Harry suspected, that it was forbidden. He had to shut his eyes, because, for one, it was not the kind of position he wanted to see his friend in. Another thing was that his mind kept wandering back to the kiss with Isabelle and he had to think that through, not mull over what Hermione was doing. As he closed his eyes, he became more aware of his other senses. He could hear Isabelle's soft breathing, smell the sweet sent that clung to her, still taste the aroma of her lips on his own and most strongly feel the curve of her body that was so close to his. He realized that he had never been so physically close to anyone before. However, that wasn't the only thing bothering him. The kiss had left a peculiar sensation in his body that was mostly centred in his groin. Of course, he had had a similar feeling many times in the morning since he was thirteen, but this time it was different. The situation was worsened by the fact that Isabelle's backside was firmly pushed against the very centre of his problem. He hoped that she wouldn't feel it through the many garments between them. All the more he hoped that he would be able to refuse the pull of his instincts. He couldn't believe the thoughts he was having and realized that people were indeed born with a certain amount of instinctual knowledge. Of course, he had seen some movies in the Dursleys' house that contained some sex, but they never went much far. His mind went further. He had to make it stop! He tried to think of disgusting things. Snape! Snape smiling at the table in the Great Hall. Oh, that was more scary than disgusting, but still... He felt that it was working, so he thought of worse things. Voldemort, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle... Finally, he could stop. He had managed to gain control over his body once more. He felt very proud of himself, because this was the first time he ever tried that. He decided not to think about the kiss, because it would only get him excited again. Instead, he remembered what she had said. She would get married next summer. Why did she have to be born to the Malfoy family? Things would have been so much simpler. He could openly date her, maybe for years, and then perhaps it would be like with his parents. Marriage, children... Though Voldemort could still intrude. Why did he have to be the Harry Potter? Why was he so important for Voldemort anyway? After all, he had gone personally to finish off him and his parents. He could have sent any of his Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy for one. He could ask Oya the next time they met. Maybe she knew.

He felt Isabelle move. In fact, she stood up and he opened his eyes to stare at her. That was when he noticed that Hermione and Regis had already left. Her face was blank and Harry felt that she was mad at him. He stood up as well and gathered his cloak from the ground. She stood there, hesitating, watching him.

"Isabelle, we need to talk about this," Harry told her as he stood to his full height before her.

"Hermione and Regis Niemi?" she deliberately misunderstood him and he knew it.

"About our kiss," he pressed.

"Harry, you shouldn't have done that. I'm promised to another man. Besides, we shouldn't get entangled like that," her voice was cold.

"Like what?" he was puzzled by what she was saying.

"Sex." The word was simple enough, but it shocked Harry to hear it like that from her. She was so composed about it, not at all like he would have expected a girl to act about a situation like that. What did he think she'd do? Well, he thought she would blush and stutter, but her cold demeanour towards him perplexed him more that if she had shouted at him and slapped him.

"I didn't want to have ... sex with you," Harry denied, because although he knew his body wouldn't have had a problem with such a turn of events, he knew that he was still too young for that and their relationship wasn't at such a level either.

"I know you did, Harry, I could feel it as you lay on top of me and when we were hiding," she had an accusing tone.

"All right, my body did want you, but I wouldn't have obeyed it. I love you and world never force you into anything," he said in his frustration. The words came right out of his mouth and they surprised him. Of course, he had felt that he was in love, but saying it out loud and to the very object of his affection was a different thing.

Looking at her he realized that she was shocked by his words. She was staring at him, eyes wide with surprise. Her lips slowly opened to speak and when she did, her voice shook.

"If you love me, then we can't be friends anymore." She turned and simply walked outside, the basket dangling on her arm. Harry watched her go. He wanted to stop her, do something to make her stay. Still, he couldn't, his feet were rooted to the spot. He could feel his heart sink into the deepest chasm as her words hit him. Not even friends.

* * *

The next days were awful for Harry. Every waking hour he cursed himself for kissing Isabelle. Although it was the most wonderful experience of his life, still, he realized that he should have done it a bit differently. But he knew she responded to him, that she wanted it as much as he did. The more he thought about it, the surer he was that she returned his feelings. After all, wasn't it her, who clutched his shoulders? Didn't she part her beautiful lips and allow him to enter? He could still recall the sensation of her tongue touching his. She was definitely not turning him away. He knew what her real problem was. Her family. They wanted her to marry a stranger and she knew they could never be together. Just like Hermione and Regis, they would always have to hide from everyone and deny their feelings to the public. Also, she would probably not come back next year and would be forever chained to another man. The thought angered him. She would be kissing another man. Someone who would probably never love her the way she should be loved would be spending eternity with her. In the end, she would become a soulless creature like her mother. He wished he could do something to prevent her marriage, but aside from taking off with her on a broomstick and leaving for some far away tropical country, he couldn't think of anything. He was after all, still only fifteen. How he wished to be of age already! But he wasn't. All he could do was just stand by and watch.

A couple of days after the kiss, he gazed at her while trying to conceal his actions with his hands in front of his eyes, pretending to be asleep during History of Magic like everyone else. She was looking sadly in front of her, clearly oblivious to the class and everything else. He wished he could comfort her. He also wished he could still be her friend, if nothing more. However, she had clearly refused that option. He had really messed the whole thing up. If he didn't kiss her, he could still be at her side. He cursed himself for not being able to contain his urges. He knew, however, that he had to do something. Perhaps talk to her, but he couldn't get her alone.

For the mean time, he had to think of other things as well.

He was trying to concentrate on Quidditch. Harry would have the first match as captain and that alone made him nervous. To top it, Angelina was out for who knows how long. It troubled him as a friend that she was blind. It also worried him as captain that one of his best players wouldn't be on the field. However, on the bright side, he did have three reserve Chasers. Of course, Ron was actively trying to persuade him to put him in the playing team, but Harry knew that he couldn't favour his friend. So he decided to have the three Chasers compete against each other during one of the training sessions. He didn't warn them ahead. Just as they stood in front of him for practice, he suddenly announced:

"You all know that Angelina can't play on our upcoming match. Even if she does regain her sight until then, she'll be too out of practice to play. Luckily, we do have three reserves, though only one position. To be fare, I've decided to hold a little competition for you guys. Keaira here will be attending the goal posts," Harry motioned for the girl, who was standing besides him, just like she did whenever she had free time, which was beginning to annoy Harry. "You'll all have ten chances at the goals. The one who scores the most, gets on the playing team."

The tree Chasers got ready. They decided to go alphabetically, which left Ron last. The rest of the team sat down on the side to watch. They clapped each time Keaira caught the Quaffle. However, as time progressed, Harry realized that perhaps having Keaira keep for the inside competition was a bad idea. Simply no one could score with her around. They were already in the last round of the ten he'd sat out and no score for any of the Chasers. Finally, they came to Ron's last throw. If he didn't score either, he would need someone else to keep and start all over again. That could present a problem, because looking at his beautiful pocket watch, Harry realized that they only had one more hour on the field, then they would have to give it over for another team. He secretly crossed his fingers behind his back, so the others wouldn't see that he was being partial in rooting for his best friend. Harry saw Ron make a few moves as he headed towards the goal posts. Then he swerved to the right, then left and suddenly, he was going up in a blink of an eye. Harry hardly had time to register how beautifully his friend was flying, when the Quaffle left Ron's hand, passed Keaira by an inch, almost knocking her off the broom with its force and was through the middle post. The whole team stood and cheered, partly to praise Ron's achievement and partly because they were glad they didn't have to spend another hour just watching the reserve Chasers. Ron landed on the ground in front of them, a smug look on his face. Harry went to him and embraced his friend.

"Great flying Ron! You made it into the team. Well then. Let's start the real practice everyone!" Harry announced.

With that, they all mounted their brooms and for the next hour, Alicia and Katie worked on getting used to Ron and integrating him into their play. They have played together with Angelina for so long, they depended on the three of them knowing by instinct what the other would do. Of course, they couldn't develop such a close connection to Ron in an hour, but they tried their best to incorporate him into the game. By the end of the hour, Ron was catching on quite well. Harry was very pleased with the progress of his team and praised them well. As they left, the players of Slytherin left their changing rooms to go onto the field. As Harry passed Draco, the blond boy puffed a little at him. Harry decided to just ignore the motion and turned his head in the other direction. For the uptenth time, he wondered how a lovely girl like Isabelle could be a Malfoy.

Friday came again and Harry decided to tell Aunt Oya of Isabelle. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but he felt he had to talk to someone about the pain he was going through. He just couldn't stand seeing Isabelle around and not being able to touch her, talk to her. He wanted to cry at nights, when he lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He had stopped taking the sleeping potion. For one thing, he didn't want to become dependent on it. Then he also wanted to dream again with his son. So as he lay there, he thought about Isabelle and felt the need to cry, but he just choked. He knew he was changed outwards as well. Hermione and Ron often questioned him about what was wrong, but he just shrugged his shoulder and told them that he was worried over the fact that Voldemort was silent. Of course, that troubled him as well, but still, he couldn't care about it as much as he did of his need for Isabelle. So as Harry stood in front of Oya, trying to perform wandless magic, but failing, he knew he had to talk. He dropped his hand and sat down on his aunt's couch with a sigh.

"You're distracted," she stated.

"Yes," came the short reply.

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Yes."

"Am I going to have to pry everything out of you?" Oya asked with a small smile, as she sat down next to Harry and tried to look into his eyes, but they were fixed on his hands.

"No," he said, finally looking up and meeting her gaze.

"Well then, let's hear it," she prodded.

"All right. Hmm. I ...," he stopped. He just didn't know how to tell it all to Oya and her intense eyes disturbed him. He looked down again. "You see, Aunt Oya, I ... I'm in love."

She was apparently taken aback by this information, but said nothing, letting him continue.

"I don't really know if she returns it. Recently I've learned that her father wants to marry her off to someone. When she told me, I ... I kissed her. She kissed me back. But then, she seemed disturbed by it and broke up our friendship. I just don't know what to do." His voice was full of desperation. He looked up at his aunt and saw that her eyes were examining him closely.

"She's a pureblood, isn't she?" Oya inquired.

"Yes. I suppose that was easy to guess. She's been my friend for a while, but only in secret. Her family wouldn't approve. .... I didn't know I loved her until she told me about getting married next year."

"Does she love the man?"

"No, I'm sure she doesn't. She cried when she told me. .... Aunt Oya, I think she loves me too!"

Oya could see how disturbed Harry was by this whole thing and she took one of his hands in hers. She gently squeezed it, as a gesture of comfort.

"Harry, I know it's hard to be in love for the first time, but I don't think you can do anything in the current situation. I'm sorry to say this, really I am. But you're only fifteen. I'm afraid you'll just have to leave her alone and forget her," she advised, keeping her voice low.

This angered Harry. He wasn't expecting this from her. He thought she would somehow solve the problem, come up with some clever plan to save Isabelle from her fate. Instead, Oya told him to just let things happen and stand aside. How could he just let his delicate Isabelle get trapped in a marriage with a man, who was probably a cruel Death Eater?

"I can't do that! I can't let her marry a man who'll probably treat her horribly and make her a shell of the person I know. She's smart and wonderful, but also very ... fragile," at that moment he remembered how she looked when he saw her in the hospital wing. So pale... "I have to do something!" Harry stood and was shouting at her. She was clearly surprised, her mouth was agape, eyes wide. Oya stood as well, to be at level with her nephew.

"Harry, be reasonable. You're a fifteen-year-old boy. How could you stop a thing such as an arranged marriage from happening?! Sometimes we are powerless and just have to accept our fate. I know it's hard. Perhaps after you're both seventeen, you'll be able to do something. For now, just leave the poor girl alone," she spoke in an even voice, calm as ever.

Harry just couldn't believe his ears. He felt the need to get out of that room. He turned and was outside in a second, running down the corridor blindly. He didn't really know where he was running, he just had the incredible urge to simply run. He ran down on one corridor after the other, then he came to the great gates that lead outside. Harry opened them with a bit of difficulty, but managed and he didn't even care to shut them behind him. He felt that if he stopped, he would die. Finally, he reached the lake and came to a halt at its bank. He gazed at the dark, murky water, as if expecting the answer to all his problems to just suddenly surface. For some minutes he just watched as the calm water reflected the star-filled sky above, then suddenly, the dam broke and he was sobbing his heart out. The sobs came in waves at him, open-mouthed, almost close to heaving, but still not there. He was dying. He was sure that nothing else could hurt so much, but dying. He clawed at his chest, wanting to rip his heart out, because that was the centre of his pain. As he stood there in agony, something unexpected happened. The sound of singing came from the depths, a slow, mourning song sweet enough to fill Harry's heart. He couldn't understand a word, but somehow he knew, the merpeople were singing to him. The sobs ceased and the tears he didn't realize he was shedding stopped their flow. He sat down on the cold grass and just listened. As he did, he felt a sense of relief come over him. Then he was sure that Isabelle wouldn't marry the man she was destined to and they would find a way to be together. The song slowly came to an end and he shouted a 'thank you' out into the vast darkness of the lake. He stood up and turned to go back. Just as he neared the gates, he saw an eagle fly above and land just in front of him. It quickly changed into Oya Potter.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked with concern in her voice, taking in his dishevelled appearance.

"I'm fine," came the short answer again.

"Look, I'm sorry, but there really isn't anything we can do."

"But why?" he demanded.

"Because in the Wizarding world, a father has superiority over his daughter until she's 17. That means, he can force her to marry anyone he pleases. She doesn't even have to be there, he can sign the papers for her. I'd love to help, but there really isn't anything we can do. Perhaps if she talked to him and told him that she didn't want to marry this man, he would consider it," she put a comforting hand on his arm.

"I doubt that," Harry looked in front of him. "There has to be another way," he spoke with determination.

"If there is, then I don't know it. .... Are you friends with this girl?"

"Yes. But after I kissed her, she stopped talking to me," he said with regret.

"Oh, yes, you kissed her." Oya couldn't help, but smile at this. "You did say that she kissed you back," she said with a hint of pride. "Then she must return it. Perhaps she's a bit confused about what happened. You really can't talk to her?"

"No."

"Then what if you wrote a letter to her?" she proposed.

Harry looked up at this and saw Oya smiling at him. A letter! Now why didn't he think of that?

"You really think that could help?" He returned her smile a bit.

"Oh yes! It's very romantic. You could tell her about your feelings that way. Also, don't sign your name, just something only she could know you by. That prevents any problems, should it fall into the wrong hands." Now Oya's smile became a full grin, she was obviously enjoying this talk.

"I'll do that. Thank you Aunt Oya!" Harry said and he started again on the way back to the castle. Oya fell into step with him.

"Then we're good?" his aunt inquired.

"Yes, we're good," he nodded his agreement.

"I'm glad," she said, obviously relaxing a little.

* * *

The next day was Harry's first Quidditch match as the team captain. He got up early, having been woken by sheer anxiety. He could hardly fall asleep and when he finally did, he only had a few hours of rest. Upon getting up still tired, he considered getting another bottle of the sleeping potion for such occasions. However, he hadn't had a nightmare since he stopped taking it and had decided not to risk getting used to it. He still had over an hour until breakfast, so he took his Handbook for Quidditch Captains that was on his bedside table, quietly put on a robe over his pyjamas and went down to the Common Room. He paused briefly by Ron's bed, marvelling at how he could still snore with an open mouth just before his first public Quidditch match. As he got to the Common Room, he saw that it was empty. Relieved, not really in the mood to talk to anyone, he sat down on the sofa in front of the fire and opened his book at the passage that contained final notes before the match. As he was reading, he heard someone coming down the stairs. Looking up, he saw the very girl his heart, thoughts and he himself was fully immersed in, Isabelle. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at him. For some time, they just stared at each other. He noted that she was in her usual green robe that was tightly wrapped around her body. Her eyes were wide as she took him in, shining with uncertainty. Harry was afraid to move, not wanting to scare her away. So instead, he began to speak:

"Isabelle, we have to talk..." he began, but just as the words left his mouth, she turned and practically ran up the stairs, probably back into her room.

Harry just looked at the spot she vacated, then bowed his head and buried his face in his hands. A feeling of sorrow and longing washed over him and he had to hold back his tears. Then he got up, quietly went into his dorm-room and placed his book back on his bed-side table. After that he took out his quill, ink and a parchment, and returned downstairs.

Harry sat down at a table and began to write his first letter to Isabelle. He kept on writing until the first person, Keaira arrived in the Common Room about half an hour later.

"Morning Harry!" she called, excitement evident on her face. Harry noted that it even made her look worse than before.

"Morning Keaira," he said, while he quickly charmed the ink on his letter to dry and rolled it up, before she could see what he had written. Then he turned to her and smiled. "I see you're excited about your first match. Have you slept well?"

"Yes, I have," she beamed. "But I wanted to get up a bit early, to fully be awake for the match."

"I see you've already put on your Quidditch robes," Harry observed. "I should go and do the same," he told her and with that got up.

"You're right, see you a bit later!" she almost shouted after him.

He was glad to be out of her sight, because her clinginess often annoyed him. He opened the door to his dorm-room and saw that everyone was up.

"Harry, we've been wondering where you've been!" Ron informed him.

"I woke up early and didn't want to disturb you, so I went down." Harry put down his things next to the Handbook for Quidditch Captains and quickly changed. In the process of dressing, he managed to hide his letter in his trunk, wondering how he could give it to Isabelle. However, he needed to focus on Quidditch at that time, so he shunned all thoughts of love from his mind and went over the points in the book that were written to be checked before the match. He deemed himself ready and looked at Ron. He was grinning madly at his best friend, obviously excited and happy.

"Ready to have breakfast?" Harry asked him.

"Yes, Captain!" Ron saluted to him and Harry smiled at his antics.

They went down together into the Common Room to see the whole team gathered there along with a couple of people already showing their support to them, making encouraging small talk. Once the members of the team saw Harry on the stairs, all of them looked at him and saluted at the same time, while saying:

"Good morning, Captain!"

"You organized this!" Harry was getting into a cheerier mood as his mates made fun of his title.

Katie Bell stepped up to him as he got down the stairs.

"I knew you'd understand the joke, having grown up among Muggles. The others had no idea of what saluting was, apparently they don't do it in the Wizarding world," she was grinning proudly of herself.

"I was wondering about that," he said.

The whole group of people made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was an interesting spectacle as most of Gryffindor House moved as one, talking excitedly and loudly, laughing as the Muggle-borns explained saluting to the rest, sharing their culture. As Harry walked among them, he looked at the people around him in a new light. Several things occurred to him all at once. First of all, the fact that with Voldemort being in possession of a body again, there should be another war approaching. He shuddered as he considered any of them being targeted, loosing a loved-one or even dying themselves. He thought about this great mass of people slowly thinning. As if he was watching a film, he saw in his mind's eye as those he didn't know much disappeared, then those he knew a little bit and finally, as those he really cared about were no more.

As he looked at some not too familiar faces, the second thing that occurred to him was what Oya had said, that some Gryffindors may become Death Eaters. He knew, he should be more careful about what he said in front of others, least he put some weapon in the hands of his enemies. The thought scared him a little. If anyone could be a Death Eater, he wouldn't be even safe in Gryffindor Tower! He was sure that Voldemort wanted to kill him himself, to finish the job he had begun all those years ago, but that knowledge didn't comfort him as much as it should have. After all, some Death Eater in the house could take out one of his friends in order to get to him, or use one of them as bait. Harry remembered seeing such things in movies, when he could watch some at the Dursley's. They sometimes allowed him to join them in the living-room, in case he kept quiet. The villain in the story kidnapped the girlfriend or friend of the hero and used the person to lure the hero into a trap. Of course the hero would always know that it was a trap, but what other choice did he have, than go and try to rescue the girl? Of course, movies always ended by the villain failing and the hero being successful, but in real life, it could always go otherwise.

He stopped himself. No use thinking about such things at a time, when Gryffindor was moving as one and his first game as captain was soon to begin. They all sat down at the large table in the Great Hall. The team sat in the middle, the others around them. Harry spotted Hermione sitting a bit further down. She gave him the thumbs up and he shot her a wide grin.

Ron, who sat right next to him, nudged Harry, trying to get his attention.

"Harry, I promise I won't fail you," he whispered excitedly into his ear.

"I know you won't, Ron," Harry assured him.

"What were you thinking about? You seemed miles away."

"A lot of things. None of them important. Don't worry."

"Do you feel like eating? I sure don't," Ron said, looking around at the plates in front of him, eyeing the food.

"No, me neither. I think I'll just have some pumpkin juice," Harry told him, smiling at the fact that for the first time, Ron wasn't hogging down all the food he could get his hand on.

"Hmm. Good idea, me too." Ron filled his cup and greedily poured the drink down his throat. Harry wondered if he even swallowed, or the liquid just simply flowed down straight into his stomach without any effort on the part of the boy.

The green-eyed boy on the other hand slowly sipped the contents of his cup, looking around. He spotted a mass of long, dark hair at the end of the table and he knew it was Isabelle. When she turned and their eyes meet, his heart skipped a beat and he thought of the letter he had left upstairs. Perhaps he should have brought it. However, now all eyes were on him and he would have had a difficult time in getting it to her in an inconspicuous way. He did need to figure out a way to get the letter to her. But not now, he realized, as the others on his team started to get up and leave the table. Apparently no one could really eat. The rest of the House stayed at their places and waved their representatives away.

The team went into the dressing rooms and Harry knew that it was time for him to make a speech. He didn't really know what to say, but as the other members sat down, he bravely stood in front of them. However, as he looked into their eyes, all directed at him, he found himself tongue-tied.

"Hmm," he stammered. "I should make a speech now, wouldn't I?" he smiled at them.

The others laughed in a nervous, but happy way.

"So, we prepared well. I know for sure. We do have a couple of new people on the team," he looked at Keaira and Ron, "but I'm confident that they'll make good. They are both great players and have performed gloriously in practice. Those of us, who have been doing this for a longer time, we are in great shape. We are up against Slytherin, however, and we know they play dirty and without consideration to our health. So don't forget to be careful. Play clean. We won the Cup last time and let's not be too confident or cocky. Concentrate on the balls, ignore whatever remark the other team would throw your way. They may try to threaten you," Harry stopped for a moment, because just at that time he realized what kind of fodder the Slytherins could use in their verbal cannons. "They may threaten you with Voldemort," he told them.

They all gasped at that, partly due to the fact that he had said 'The Name' and also because he brought up the subject.

"Yes, I said 'The Name', I know. I always say his name. I'm not afraid of it. It's a name. I told you all a couple of months ago that he was back. The Slytherins know he's back as well. I'm not saying they are all on His side, they very well may not be, but probably most of them are. Or at least they think they want to be. Out in the field they always play dirty, that we know. In the heat of the moment they may not closely consider the weight of throwing such threats around. However, I'm sure they are empty threats. Don't be disturbed by them, don't even really listen. Voldemort is out there in his new body. There is a war coming," Harry said, realizing that his speech was quickly turning into something he had not intended. He knew he had to stop, before he distracted his team from the game. "However, the war isn't here right now, so you must not think about that, but concentrate on the game. Besides, I have faith in Dumbledore that he will soon take care of Voldemort. After all, even though he's back, he's not as strong as he was before. I got away from him last year." He tried to comfort the others. He smiled encouragingly. "So, ... I think it's time. Let's go out there and prove that we can win without Oliver." He grinned as they got up and smiling, went.

Harry was the last to go to face the music. He stepped into the stadium with an air of confidence that was mainly for the team, but for the crowd as well. The majority of Hogwarts cheered for Gryffindor, as only the Slytherins were in favor of themselves. The team stood around Madam Hooch, who positioned herself right in the middle of the stadium. Harry stood in front of her, then Malfoy stepped up as well. Harry eyed his nemesis with contempt and the same sentiment was directed back to him. So Malfoy was the captain of the Slytherin team. Harry realized how much along the same lines their lives were going, just on the opposite side. His thoughts were stopped there, as Madam Hooch started to speak.

"Now begin this season with a good, clean game. I want you to shake hands," she spoke to both of them.

Harry redirected his gaze to Malfoy, who had a very characteristic smirk on his face. Harry stuck out his hand to him, and the blond boy reluctantly took it. They shook each others hands lightly, making the contact as brief as possible.

"All right, now mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch commanded.

They did as they were told and as Madam Hooch blew her whistle, the teams rose into the air.

"This is Lee Jordan and I welcome you to the first Quidditch match of the season," came the sound of Lee's voice loud and clear. "The Quaffle is in the air and is immediately taken by Gryffindor's new Chaser, Ron Weasley. Finally there's a male Chaser among them! He passes to Alicia, who quickly throws it to Katie. She picks up speed, passes a Bludger, takes aim, score! Ten to nothing for Gryffindor! Anyone who said the new members would ruin the team were wrong!"

Harry was looking at his team. They were doing a great job of the tactics they had talked about. They were passing in quick succession to one another, the Quaffle just a blur. The Weasley twins kept hitting the Bludgers towards those Slytherins, who attempted to steal the Quaffle from them. However, sometimes they did manage it, much to the dismay of most of the school. Then there was Keaira for them to get through, but she always seemed to be just in front of the right hoop. Harry beamed at what he was seeing. However, the Slytherin Keeper seemed to gather himself together as well, and after a while, no matter how the girls and Ron tried, they couldn't score.

"For half an hour now, there had been no goal in the game. The score is still fifty to nothing for Gryffindor," Jordan announced, with a hint, or rather a lot of boredom in his voice.

Harry started to double his efforts in finding the Snitch. The team didn't need him to give any directions; they knew what to do. He soared in the air, trying to concentrate on the image of the little golden ball in his mind so that he could spot it more easily. Hermione's glasses helped him a lot, since his vision was better and he didn't have to squint in the unusual bright rays of the sun. Well, at least it wasn't raining, he thought to himself. Meanwhile, he was listening to the increasingly agitated voice of Jordan.

"Gryffindor has the Quaffle, again. Katie passes to Alicia, who then to Ron. He dodges a Bludger. Good manoeuvring," in spite of what he was saying, there was not even a hint of excitement by now in his commentary. "Ron is still flying with it." For about ten seconds he was silent. It occurred to Harry that perhaps Jordan had fallen asleep. Silently cursing, Harry kept on looking for the Snitch, but it seemed to have disappeared. Perhaps the little thing decided to hide so as to continue the stalemate forever. However, just to prove his last thought about the teams' situation wrong, the crowd roared. Harry looked towards the Slytherin goalposts just in time to see Ron fly in front of them, his arms raised into the air. Behind him, the Slytherin Keeper was seething with the Quaffle in his hands.

"I can't believe it! I just close my eyes for one second and ... I don't know what happened," Jordan shouted, mad at himself. Harry looked at him and saw Professor McGonagall whisper in Jordan's ear. "Oh, thank you Professor! So for those who wondered off like me, Ron Weasley had managed to get the Quaffle through one of the posts, finally breaking the boredom. Way to go, Weasley!"

Harry was very happy, but he knew he had to concentrate on his own task. However, from then on, Jordan's voice never lapsed back into its monotone version. Ron's name was constantly on his lips, as he seemed to fire goal after goal. There was no stopping him and when Harry spotted the Snitch after three hours of searching, he almost regretted putting a stop to Ron's hours of glory. Harry managed to capture the little golden menace swiftly, Draco never even noticed.

The party in the Common Room was almost evident, as it had already begun before the match. Harry was enormously relieved that they had won. He dreaded that the happenings of his second and fourth years would be repeated. He didn't want to see a comeback of those anti-Potter badges. He was immensely happy as well, and shared a butter-beer with the others that, as usual, was provided by the twins. Harry noticed Ron in the crowd, who was smiling at the people around him. Being the hero of the game, girls from the fourth year and up were standing around him, listening intently as he recounted his goals from his own perspective. All the girls had an obvious look of adoration on their faces and Ron was pleased to be the centre of attention for a change. Harry mused that if there was a Yule Ball again this year, Ron would have many girls coming up to him, asking him to accompany them just like when Harry was a Tournament champion last year. Harry was glad that his friend got a taste of fame now, because he knew that was something Ron was jealous of. Harry also looked for Keaira, another hero of the day. After all, she had stopped every goal that was aimed at the posts. He found her soon, as turning around he almost fell over her. She was standing just behind him, a bit shorter than him, and that was how he didn't see her when he turned. She did surprise him a lot like that.

"Keaira!" he exclaimed. "Are you enjoying the party?" he smiled down at her.

"Of course Harry!" she beamed, again, her face uglier than when he features were passive. Harry tried not to flinch at the site.

"Good. Why don't you mingle a bit with the others?" he asked her.

"I like to be near you, Harry!" she almost whined.

Harry didn't know what to say to not be offensive. He just tried to smile at her bravely, and decided to just ignore her for the time. He also looked for Hermione. She was chatting with the girl Chasers, and next to her was Angelina. Harry remembered that she had said last night that she would help Angelina get to the stands to at least hear the match in her blind state. After all, otherwise she was fine. They laughed together, though Harry could see a hint of sadness on Angelina's face. Relaxed that his best female friend was socializing, he wondered what the love of his heart was doing. He looked around for Isabelle, but couldn't see her anywhere. He moved a bit, since the Common Room was packed in such a way that it was hard to see farther than a few meters. However, he did realize that it was getting easier for him to see above the heads around him. He was becoming quite tall, and this realization pleased him. With a wider grin than before, he kept looking for the black beauty. Beauty? Yes, she was a real beauty, he thought. That was when he spotted her. She was smiling, a rare thing except for the times they spent alone together. Harry was glad to see her like that for a change. She was sitting in a corner, a butter-beer in her hand, watching the celebrating people. Harry had the urge to just go and talk to her. Maybe share his happiness over winning, his anxiety over the responsibilities that being a captain meant, or just generally be in her company. He knew he couldn't and he felt a pang in his heart that ripped from it the happiness he felt. He shook himself.

'There will be a time when I can openly talk to her,' he promised himself. How that would come about, he had no idea. He only knew that it had to. He quickly slipped away after making sure that Keaira was no longer at his side and went up to his dormitory room. It was quite easy, because of the huge crowd, even though he was one of the people that was being celebrated. He opened his trunk and got out the letter that he had written to Isabelle. He wondered how he should give it to her. Then he came to a realization. Everyone was in the Common Room! The girls' dormitory would be empty! The thought of going there made him shiver.

It was a place his thoughts had many times wondered to over his years in school. He speculated it was different from the boys'. Also, since meeting Isabelle, he often thought of what she looked like asleep. In the past days he sometimes fantasized about going to her while she was in deep slumber, kissing her face. He saw her open those black eyes of hers and look up at him. Then in his imagination she would smile, with one of those genuine smiles of hers that he so seldom saw. They would go down into the empty Common Room and do some real kissing. He often remembered what they shared in the cave and then he longed to repeat their activities.

He shook himself. He needed to get to the dormitory, and not daydream about Isabelle. Harry started towards the girls' dormitories, but then he remembered something. About three weeks ago Seamus had a date with a fourth-year girl and she was late. So he decided to check on her. He was kind of nervous to ask her out in the first place and as he was waiting, he got scared that she wouldn't come. So he started up the stairs to her dormitory. When he got to the sixth stair, the stairs turned into a slide and he slid down. The funny part was that his date was just coming down and she slid right into his lap. Luckily she only laughed and it relaxed him as well. Ever since then they were together.

So Harry knew that he could not go up the stairs. How else could he get to the girls' room? Then he realized that the answer to the problem was in the Quidditch changing rooms, where he left his Firebolt in his haste to get to the celebration. If he went to the dormitory on his broom, he wouldn't need to step on the stairs, not even the floor. He smacked his had upon this realization and considered how he could get the broom. Then he remembered! Last year during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament he got his Firebolt through summoning it. He hadn't done that spell for a while, but even before, once he got a spell right, he could do it any time. Now with all the extra training he'd had, it should be easy. So he went to one of the windows and opened it. A gush of wind hit him immediately, blowing up his hair, billowing his Quidditch robe behind him, making him look like he was preparing for a big fight in some Hollywood action movie. He smiled and concentrated on his Firebolt as he raised his wand.

"Accio Firebolt!" he spoke and then waited. After a while he saw it. His broom was flying towards him just as it had before. He grabbed it when it was close enough and put away his wand. He slipped his letter from his bedside-table into his pocket and mounted his broom. Harry flew towards the door, but didn't stop, only raised his hand and thought about the door opening for him. He was very proud of himself when it did and he flew out, repeating the action on his way out, only to close the door this time. He urged his broom on, wanting to go as fast as possible and get done with it. He was glad to see that he could zoom up over the stairs without any hindrance. He was afraid that there was some sort of a barrier that would keep him from completing his plan. Since there was none, he made it up and looked for the door that said '5th year' on it. He quickly found it and opened the door with magic again. He smiled broadly as it swung open and he flew in. Harry hovered in the middle of the room. It surprised him how different it was from the boys'.

The arrangement of the place was the same. However, the room was done in light, pastel colours that made the space look bigger. The wood of the beds was a lighter shade of gold, the beddings cream-colored with the seal of Gryffindor embroidered on them in a bit darker shade of the original colour. By the beds the same kind of bedside-tables were located as in his own dormitory, but in the same colour as the beds and there were different things on them. A few held pictures, some stuffed toys, and two tables had large stacks of books on them. Harry suspected that one of the last two belonged to Hermione, the other to Isabelle. He approached the one closest to him and looked around for some clue as to whom the bed and the table belonged to. He spotted the corner of a book sticking out from under the pillows. He pulled it out and on the cover he could read only one word. 'Diary'. With trembling hands he opened it. On the first page there was still no name, so he turned a page. The writing was unknown to him and it occurred to him that the bed could belong to some other girl than Hermione or Isabelle. He would have recognized Hermione's writing; he'd copied enough homework off her. So he decided to read a little, just to find out whose bed he was suspended next to. He sighed, gathering courage to read. The writing was very cursive, almost to the point of artistic, but still easy to deal with.

'I arrived to the station along side of Father and my brother. They ignored me through the trip as usual and I had to struggle with my huge trunk alone. During the trip I had to sit with Draco...'

It was at that point that Harry knew, it was Isabelle's bed. He wanted to close the book and put it back right away and place the letter next to it, but his curiosity forced him to continue reading. The little voice of reason told him to stop reading, also including that it wasn't right to read other people's diaries. However, he had to find out what she wrote about their first encounter, he simply had to. Then perhaps also what she thought about their kiss...

'...and it was very boring. I just listened to him rant on about his summer, boasting things that weren't true. He was always good at stories. I fell asleep from boredom some time during the trip and in no time at all, we arrived to Hogwarts. It looked much more welcoming than Durmstrang. I had to be sorted into a house. It turned out to be Gryffindor. Knowing that Father would be furious, I tried to convince the Sorting Hat that it was wrong, but it's a persistent creature. I couldn't sleep and had to think over what I should do. I decided to go down into the Common Room. It seemed like a nice place upon first look. That was where I saw him again. Harry Potter. He cast his emerald eyes on me and I was at a loss for words. I talked to him. He didn't turn away from me in disgust like all the girls in the dormitory when I entered it. He talked to me like he would to anyone else and it was so wonderful! I wish that I could talk to him like that any time I wanted to and to the others as well. Perhaps if they really knew me... They can never get to know me. I do like Harry a lot. He's nice and sweet. Also, well, I know I shouldn't think this, but very handsome.'

The page ended here. Harry's heart beat faster and he felt like doing a happy-loop right there in the room. She thought him nice, sweet and handsome, he reread the words. He had to find out what she wrote about what happened in the cave. He started to flip the pages, when he suddenly heard voices outside on the corridor. He quickly closed the diary, took out his letter and together he slipped the two objects under the pillow. He could hear the voices of Lavender and Parvati coming from just opposite side of the door. Nervously he glanced around to see where he could hide, when he remembered that he was sitting on a flying broom. He turned and soared upwards, almost on the top of one of the beds' ceiling. Looking down, he saw the door open and the girls walked in.

"I can't believe that stupid Neville poured butter-beer all over my favourite blouse," whined Lavender.

"He's so clumsy. Makes me wonder why the Hat put him in Gryffindor. Well, I guess he must have lots of courage to even come to school with his skills and memory," Parvati laughed.

Harry seethed at their words. Neville was very good at a lot of things, like Herbology and he knew that perhaps if the boy got a bit more encouragement, then perhaps he would do better. Then and there, Harry decided to pay more attention to Neville. Harry suddenly noticed what Lavender was doing. She took off her robe and started to unbutton her stained top. For a bit he just stared, then realized what he was doing and shut his eyes, but not before he got a glimpse of her white, laced bra. He cursed at himself for peeking, which he knew was very wrong. However, he was male after all, so thinking it over, he didn't think it such a big deal. He had even read in Sirius' book that wanting to see girls naked was a natural instinct in his age.

They were still talking, but he shut them out. He only reopened his eyes when he heard the door to the room close behind them. Sighing with relief, he decided not to push his luck. Carefully, so as not to be seen, he left the girls' section of Gryffindor Tower. After depositing his broom in his trunk, Harry returned to the party that was still going on in the Common Room.

To be continued...