HPMM91-105

Chapter 091

And why? Harry wondered. Why wasn't the school doing

something about this? Did they lack the funding to buy

better brooms? Or was there some other reason he

couldn't determine? Either way, something would have to

be done. Children their age shouldn't be using such

dangerous equipment.

The Slytherins were already outside, huddling together a

ways off. Most of them seemed to be listening to Draco

who told everyone that it was travesty that first years

weren't allowed to bring a broom, and how much better

their Quidditch team would be if he was allowed to join.

Harry did notice that while many of the Slytherins were

paying rapt attention to the boy, Blaise, Daphne and

Tracey looked almost bored to tears.

The three were standing at the edge of the crowd, and

while to the average eye it looked like they were paying

attention to everything Draco said, he could easily see

they were only pretending.

Blaise's expression looked the same as it always did, that

being a general look of aloofness and distance. However,

Harry could see the hard lines around his eyes. They

made him look slightly strained, as if he was just barely

resisting the urge to roll them.

Surprisingly enough Harry could not get a read on the

pretty blond next to the dark-skinned pureblood. Daphne

Greengrass' expression was, as always, colder than a

winters night in Antarctica. And yet, while her expression

remained the same, her stance betrayed her irritation. Her

arms were crossed and she was putting more weight on

her right leg than her left, which he had been able to

notice through her thick school robes due to the way her

figure tilted. The crossing of her arms, her distance, and

the stance she assumed were often signs of someone

who was annoyed.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Tracey Davis was not masking her

boredom at all. Everything from her stance to the annoyed

look in her eyes to the way she was nearly scowling at

Draco told Harry that she was not at all pleased with the

blond boy's bragging.

This did not surprise Harry one bit. He knew that Tracey

Davis was not a pureblood but a half-blood. Her father

was a pureblood from a minor house, and her mother was

a muggleborn that her father married shortly after they

graduated from Hogwarts. Given that her father had gone

against tradition and was considered the black sheep of

his family, it would make sense that he had not taught his

daughter much about pureblood traditions and social

etiquette.

It made him wonder about just how she and Daphne had

become friends in the first place.

His internal musings were interrupted by the arrival of their

flight instructor.

Much like Professor McGonagall, Madam Rolanda Hooch

looked like a woman you wouldn't want to cross lightly, if

at all. Her gray hair was cut in short spikes that were

swept about her face, like she had just come back from

flying. Her eyes were a sharp, piercing yellow like those of

a hawks, and her face held the kind of no nonsense look

that he had seen on the Transfiguration teacher. She wore

a white button-down collared shirt and a black necktie with

the Hogwarts crest under her cloak.

"Alright everyone!" Madam Hooch shouted over the talking

students. Almost immediately everyone quieted down.

"Don't just stand around! Line up next to the broom so we

can get started!"

Well, the woman certainly wasn't one for eloquent words

and long-winded speeches like, that's for sure. That suited

Harry just fine. He and Neville followed the instructor's

advice and lined up next to a broom.

"Now, I want you all to stick out your right hand above your

broom and say 'up!'"

"Up!" everyone shouted at once.

Harry's broom immediately flew into his hand, but he

noticed that his was one of the only ones to have done so.

Malfoy had gotten his to shoot up as well, showing that

while he may be a braggart he was not just puffing hot air.

Tracey's had also flown into her hands the moment she

had spoken. Along with her, Blaise had managed get his

up after a couple of tries and Daphne followed soon after.

On the Gryffindor side of things, it looked like Harry was

the only person who had gotten his broom to respond.

Seamus Finnigan's broom had jumped into the air a few

inches of the ground, then fell back down. It took him

several tries to get it into his hand. Hermione Granger's

had rolled over a couple of times, but not much else. And

Neville's hadn't done anything at all.

"You need to be more commanding," Harry said to Neville

as the Longbottom heir tried to unsuccessfully call his

broom to his hand again. "In many ways brooms are a lot

like horses. They can sense your fear and desire not to

ride them. You need take a more commanding stance.

Don't just say 'up' and expect it to respond. You have to

mean it, you need to want the broom in your hand."

The Longbottom heir looked at him for several seconds,

before taking a deep breath and giving it another try.

"Up!" He commanded, his voice much louder and without

the quaver it held earlier. This time the broom did shoot up

into Neville's hand. Unfortunately, Neville had been so

unprepared for it that the broom had smacked off his hand

and almost fell back to the ground had Harry's own hand

not shot out and caught it.

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Chapter 092

"Thanks, Harry," Neville said with an embarrassed blush

as Harry handed the boy his broom.

"You're welcome," Harry responded with an amused smile.

After everyone had a broom in hand, Madam Hooch

showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding

off the end, walking up and down the row helping students

correct their grip.

"What do you mean I'm doing it wrong?" asked an

indignant Draco Malfoy when Madam Hooch told him that

his grip on the broom was wrong. "This is how I've been

doing it for years!"

"Then you have been doing it wrong for years," the

instructor with hawk-like eyes said in a stern voice. "Your

grip on the broom is too loose and your holding the shaft

to close to the ends of the broom. Not only will that make it

more difficult to control, but it also heightens the chance of

your hands sliding off the end during maneuvering."

The scowl on Draco Malfoy's face as he was thoroughly

humiliated was incredibly amusing. Harry did feel a bit

guilty for taking pleasure in another persons suffering, but

he was beginning to dislike the Malfoy heir thanks to what

he had done this morning. Getting Neville's self

confidence up was hard enough already; he didn't need

Malfoy's bullying making things even harder.

And Harry noticed he wasn't the only one who was taking

perverse pleasure in the boy's humiliation. While Blaise

and Daphne looked pretty indifferent to the whole thing,

with Blaise only showing the smallest of smirks, their

brunette friend had no such subtlety and blatant snickered

behind her hand at the blond boy's embarrassment.

As if feeling his eyes on her, Tracey Davis looked over at

him curiously. Harry gave her the tiniest of grins, then tilted

his head towards Draco Malfoy, who was red faced as

Madam Hooch finished correcting his handling of his

broom. Her eyes lit up when she realized he, too, found

the Malfoy heir's situation amusing and mouthed the word

'idiot' while pointing to the blond boy.

Both Blaise and Daphne seemed to notice the small

interaction, but where Blaise's smirk widened when he

cottoned on to what their silent communication was about,

Daphne simply gave him her iciest glare and looked away,

determined to ignore him.

Harry didn't let Daphne's coldness bother him too much.

From what he had seen she was cold to everyone save

Tracey and Blaise, and even with the dark-skinned

pureblood she tended to keep her distance.

Though he did have to wonder about her cold personality.

It was most intriguing considering how her best friend

Tracey was so friendly and open. How had she turned out

like this? Why was she so cold to everyone? Was it some

kind of defense mechanism? Perhaps someone had hurt

her in the past and she closed herself off to all those but

the few she could trust? It could even be something as

simple as that just being her personality, though Harry

doubted it. More than likely it had something to do with her

family.

Perhaps one of her parents or a relative of hers was

abusive? He didn't know, couldn't know, and so he put it

out of his mind for now. Thinking up theories of how a

person acted without having any information to confirm or

deny his theories was foolish. He would eventually crack

the mystery surrounding Daphne, but he couldn't let it

consume him.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Madam Hooch

began speaking after making sure everyone had mounted

their brooms properly. "Now, when I blow my whistle I

want you all to kick off from the ground hard."

"Don't kick off the ground hard," Harry whispered quietly

so that only Neville could hear. The other boy looked at

him in confusion for contradicting a teacher, but Harry just

smiled. "She's telling you to do that because most people

require to kick off harder than normal in order to get into

the air, but you can also lose control that way. Instead of

kicking off the ground, simply pull the handle of your

broom up and stand on your toes."

Neville didn't have a chance to respond to Harry because

Madam Hooch chose that moment to speak again. "Keep

your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come

straight down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle,

three—two—one!"

As Madam Hooch blew on her whistle, everyone tried their

best to rise into the air. Hermione didn't have much luck at

first, too nervous to actually kick off the ground, and

instead tried jumping up and down. It didn't work and

Madam Hooch had to go over and instruct her.

Seamus and Dean had a bit more luck. Seamus managed

to get off the ground, but his broom wobbled and he kept

slipping from one side to the other. Dean, surprisingly, did

much better than Seamus and managed to stay on his

broom.

Tracey and Draco both did well. Whether or not the blondhaired boy really was as skilled as he claimed, Harry could

not deny that he at least looked comfortable on his broom.

Likewise, Tracey Davis seemed to almost be a natural,

especially compared to her friends, both of whom

managed to get their brooms into the air, but looked mildly

uncomfortable as they did so.

Perhaps the most surprising person there was Neville. His

broom managed to lift into the air by following Harry's

instructions. Oh he certainly didn't look like a natural, and

seemed to be extremely nervous despite not being more

than a foot off the ground, but at the very least he had

managed full lift off.

"You're doing good, Neville," Harry encouraged as he

floated several feet off the ground. It had been easy for

him to get his broom to do what he wanted, and he

suspected it may have had something to do with his dad's

natural talent at riding a broom. Could a persons talent on

a broom be a genetic trait, per chance? Something to

think of later on. "Just keep a firm grip on the handle. Now,

slowly pull it up—that's it—now tilt the handle back down."

Harry watched as Neville's feet hit the ground and nodded.

The boy had done most admirably considering he looked

like he wanted to pass out while in the air.

"See," Harry said as he followed Neville's example and

landed on the ground. "It's not as hard as it looks, is it?"

"If you say so, Harry," Neville replied, still looking

incredibly shaken. "Even so, I don't think I'll be getting on

a broom again any time soon."

Harry gave the boy a nod. "That's fine. Not everyone

enjoys flying. What's important is that you managed to

stay on your broom and didn't get injured or embarrass

yourself, which is more than I can say for them." At the

word 'them' Harry hooked a thumb over to Parvati Patil

and Lavender Brown, both of whom had not even

succeeded in getting their broom into the air. Neville gave

a mild chuckled and grinned unsurely at him.

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Chapter 093

"Ok everyone!" Madam Hooch called for order. "We only

have fifteen minutes of class left, so I am going to allow

you some free time. Those of you who wish to continue

flying may do so as long as you remain where I can see

you. Those who do not wish to continue, place your

brooms on the ground and step off to the side so you do

not get injured by anyone who may decide to do

something reckless."

Of the kids who had gone through the lesson, only a few

decided to continue; Tracey Davis, Draco Malfoy, Seamus

Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Theodore Nott and Harry Potter.

Everyone else had moved off to the side where they would

not get hurt on accident if someone ended up losing

control of their broom.

Harry quickly walked up to Tracey as Madam Hooch told

them to get in line. His actions drew perplexed or

surprised looks from everyone. Like always, he ignored

them in favor of talking to Tracey.

"You seem pretty comfortable on a broom," Harry

complimented, his words causing Tracey to smile at him.

"Were you watching me, Potter?" asked Tracey, her eyes

glinting with amusement.

"As much as I watched everybody else," Harry informed

her with a smile. "And it's Harry. Or as Daphne convinced

you to call me Potter now?"

Tracey laughed at his words, and her eyes moved over to

where Blaise and Daphne were standing. Harry followed

her gaze and saw that while Blaise looked amused to see

him spending time with a Slytherin, Daphne was favoring

him with a cold glare. Harry also noticed out of the corner

of his eye that Draco was scowling at him and Tracey.

He shrugged both of the looks off and turned back to

Tracey.

"No, Daphne hasn't said anything about what I should call

you," she told him with a grin. "But you know how it is,

house politics demand I call you Potter, since, you know,

everyone else in the house seems to call you that."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't strike me as the type who cared about house

politics."

"What?" Tracey gave him her best haughty glare. It wasn't

very convincing, considering her lips kept twitching into a

grin. "You think I don't care about what the

esteemedmembers of my house think of me?"

"Yes," Harry said with a nod. "That is exactly what I think."

Tracey huffed. "Alright, fine. So maybe Daphne might

have said something about how I shouldn't get all chummy

with you because it would ruin what standing I have with

my house."

"Did she really say that?"

"Well, not quite like that," Tracey admitted. "It was more

like 'you shouldn't spend time with Potter; he's only using

you for his own gain and it will be even more difficult to

protect you from our housemates if you befriend him.'"

"Not very trusting, is she?" Harry asked, just barely

managing to contain his wince. While he wouldn't quite

call what he was doing manipulating someone for his own

gain, he also couldn't deny that he was straddling a very

fine line between using others solely for his own gain and

helping them via forming alliances. It was a difficult thing,

trying to further his goals without using others for his own

benefit, and every day he had to constantly think about

how to advance those goals without sacrificing his morals.

"As I said, she's not like that with just you but everyone,"

Tracey reassured him. "She's been like that ever since..."

"Ever since?" Harry's tone turned questioning when

Tracey trailed off.

"Nothing," she told him with a grimace. "She's just been

like that for a while. It's just how she is."

XXXX

"Harry!"

I felt an exhausted sigh threaten to escape as I turned

around to face my tormentor. For nearly two weeks the girl

I had rescued from Dudley and his friends had been

bothering me nonstop. Every morning at school she would

find me and greet me with a big hug, and every time lunch

came about she would be waiting right outside my

classroom. I'm not even sure how she found out which

classroom was mine.

"Lisa," I said, staring at the brunette with a blank look.

"What do you—gurk." A choked noise escaped my throat

as Lisa hugged me tightly. I really should have expected

this, yet for some reason, the action still caught me off

guard. Fortunately, she let go moments later, though I

could tell from how my face felt like it had caught fire that I

was still blushing.

"What was that for?" I hissed. Lisa just smiled at me.

"That was my good morning greeting," she said as if it

should be obvious, which it obviously wasn't. "Good

morning."

"You already said that," I mumbled irritably. I really didn't

know what to make of this girl. Ever since that time with

Dudley and his ilk she'd been clinging to me like glue. I'd

tried ditching her several times and told her off exactly 365

times, but nothing I said or did worked. She continued

following me like some kind of faithful puppy. It was

extremely annoying.

"Well, I'm saying it again," Lisa declared almost proudly.

"And I'll say it a million more times until you say good

morning too."

I pinched the bridge of my nose to stem the coming

migraine and pondered what to do. I couldn't just be rude

and terrible to her—I refused to do something that had

even a chance of sending me back down that dark path I'd

escaped from—but politely trying to deny her friendship

didn't seem to be working.

Guess there was no helping it.

"Good morning, Lisa," I said, averting my eyes. The way

her eyes seemed to sparkle disturbed me.

"You finally did it!" The girl cheered. "Yes!" Before I had a

chance to sneak off, Lisa linked arms with me. "And now

that we're friends you can walk me to my class."

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Chapter 094

"What?" I mumbled in shock before Lisa began dragging

me behind her. "H-hold up, I never said anything about us

being friends!"

"Of course you did," she chided, smiling brightly at me.

"Just now you greeted me like a friend would. That makes

us friends."

"It does not!"

"Now, to class!"

"Let go of me! Lisa!"

XoX

"The levitation charm was first invented in the sixteenth

century with Jarleth Hobart being credited as its creator,

though he had actually mistaken it for a flying spell rather

than a simple charm that let him levitate objects into the

air. He had been so caught up in his own euphoria at

thinking he could fly that on July fifteenth fifteen-forty-four

he somehow managed to convince a large number of

witches in wizards, including the, at the time, Chief

Warlock of the Wizeongamot to see his... 'maiden

voyage.'"

Harry's small lecture/story on the Wingardium Leviosa was

interrupted by a stifled giggle from Hannah Abbot and a

loud laugh from one Tracey Davis. The two had asked him

for help on their Charms essay as Charms was their

weakest subject. Well, Charms was Hannah's weakest

subject, Tracey was just horrible at writing essays

period—she was good at charms though.

Giving the pair a grin, Harry waited until their laughter died

down, purposefully ignoring the baleful glare sent his way

by the librarian, one Madam Pince.

"You think that's good, wait until you hear this. After an

extremely rousing speech about how he had discovered

flight, and a national anthem being played in his honor by

a popular at the time orchestra, he cast the spell upon

himself and leapt off the roof of a church he had climbed

onto."

"At first it looked like he had succeeded. There he was,

hovering in mid air. Naturally, people were enthralled.

However, after staring at him for nearly three minutes, in

which time he continued to simply hover there, many

people began to grow impatient and tried booing him off

his proverbial stage."

"In response to the negative comments he was receiving,

Jarleth Hobart tried moving in mid air by doggy paddling,

which, by the way, was not successful. He stayed exactly

where he was." More snickers met his words and Harry

looked to see that Blaise, Lisa, Neville, Susan and Terry

were now all listening to him as well. "In either event,

when that didn't work he began to mistakenly believe that

his clothes were making him heavier and thus impeding

his movement..."

Harry trailed off here, waiting for the others to figure out

where he was going on their own. Tracy was the first to

get where he was going. She gasped, then paced a hand

to her mouth as she stifled what was likely to be

uproarious laughter. The others soon followed with their

own reactions, all of which were fairly amusing.

"He didn't!"

"He did," Harry said with an almost solemn nod that was

belied by his grin. "Wanting to show everyone that he

could, in fact, fly, Hobart proceeded to remove all of his

clothing in the hopes that it would allow him to gain the

ability of flight."

By now everyone looked like they were hardly containing

themselves. Tracey had almost literally stuffed her fist into

her mouth to stop herself from laughing, and Hannah was

only a little better off. Neville and Susan were both red in

the face and looked like they were just barely restraining

themselves from openly laughing. Lisa was wearing the

most amused smile he had ever seen, and Terry had his

hands clamped over his mouth keeping his lips shut by

pinching them together with his fingers. Even the normally

stoic Blaise looked like he was having a hard time keeping

the grin off his face.

"However, what Hobart didn't know was that his clothes

were actually the only thing keeping him airborne. You

see, because it is extremely difficult to cast magic on

something magical in nature like a witch or wizard due to

the inherent magical resistance they have, he had ended

up casting it on his clothes. So, when he stripped himself

naked there was nothing holding him up." He paused, and

his grin widened when he saw the others struggling even

harder to contain their laughter. "I'm sure you all can

imagine what happened. He fell to the ground quite hard

after that and ended up breaking sixteen bones on the

way down. He then went on to receive a penalty of

extraordinary stupidity from the Chief Warlock."

His last statement seemed to be the final straw for what

little self-restraint most of them had. Tracey Davis burst

out in laughter, her voice so boisterous and loud that many

of the other students around their table glared at the girl.

Tears literally streaming down her face, she held onto her

stomach like her laughter was actually causing physical

pain.

Hannah was giggling and snorting into her hand, a

mortified look on her face due to the fact that she was

doing something as unfeminine as snorting. Despite

clearly wanting to stop embarrassing herself further, she

seemed incapable of doing anything other than continuing

to show her amusement in the most embarrassing way

possible.

The two shyest of the group of friends, Neville and Susan,

finally lost the battle to contain their own amusement and

were chortling and giggling into their hands. Neville looked

like he was gasping for air as he continued to laugh and

Susan was crying tears of mirth, one hand hiding her

grinning lips while the other was on her stomach.

Harry's Ravenclaw friends were not much better. Terry

was actually on the floor holding his gut as he heaved

deep, ragged gasps of breath from all the laughing he'd

done. Harry could occasionally make out the other boy

wheezing out words like 'naked' and 'stupidity,' but not

much else managed to escape from Terry's mouth.

Meanwhile, Lisa had buried her face into the book laid out

before her as she fruitlessly tried to cover her own

reaction. Harry just hoped she hadn't drooled on that book

or Madam Pince would be even madder than she was

now!

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Chapter 095

Out of the seven sitting with him, only Blaise had

managed to refrain from laughing like a loon, but even he

was having trouble keeping his amusement from showing.

The Italian boy was currently disguising his laughter as a

cough that he hid behind his closefisted hand.

"Where..." Tracey gasped out as she continued to hold her

stomach. She was sucking in deep breaths now, trying to

gain the oxygen she had been unable to take in during her

intense bout of laughter. "Where did you find this

information? I never saw any of this in the book."

"Did you even read the book?" asked a smirking Blaise.

Tracey scowled at her friend, the blush on her face not

only making it ineffective, but also letting everyone at the

table know that she had not actually read the book. This

brought another round of not as intense laughter to the

group, and served to make the brunette Slytherin's blush

grow.

"I actually didn't find it in the book," Terry informed Blaise

as he dragged himself back into his seat. He was still

gasping a bit, and the occasional snicker escaped his

mouth as he smirked at the dark skinned boy. "And I did

actually read it."

Blaise chortled behind his hand while Tracey's blush and

scowl deepened. She crossed her arms over her chest

and tried to ineffectively glare at the pair.

"Are you two done making fun of me?"

Blaise's eyes held a sense of mischief to them as he

shrugged his shoulders and said, "for the moment."

"Tracey's general laziness aside," Harry began, grinning

when Tracey's eyes landed on him and gave him a

betrayed glare. "The reason you probably couldn't find this

information is because it's at the end of the book as an

excerpt to the levitation charm. You see, it wasn't originally

called the levitation charm, which is actually considered an

improved version of what Hobart created. At the time it

was called the Hover Charm, or Levioso, not only due to

the fact that it allowed one to hover in midair, but also

because that was all it could do. You couldn't make the

hovering object move or do anything other than hover. The

charm was later improved upon and became what we

know as the levitation charm today."

Harry ended his small lecture with a shrug.

"Still, the information is not only entertaining but also

potentially useful." He looked over at Hannah and Tracey

(who was still looking at him like he had betrayed her). "I

figured you two could use this bit to add in that extra four

inches Flitwick asked for on your assignment. I'm sure

he'd get a kick out of it."

After nearly a month of theoretical lectures, Professor

Flitwick had finally told them they were going to be

learning the levitation charm. However, he wanted them to

study the charm first and write up a ten inch essay on its

history, mechanics and uses in every day wizarding

society.

Harry already knew the charm inside and out, having

studied and practiced the spell on his own during the night

before he did his meditations and went to bed. He had

even finished the essay (as well as the rest of this weeks

homework) before the study session he and his friends

had taken to having every Saturday after breakfast.

This was done with a two part purpose. One, he wanted to

be done with his homework as soon as it was assigned so

he could focus on his more important tasks during the

week. And two, so that he could provide assistance to his

friends when they asked for it. This had been a very good

idea because almost all of his friends asked for help with

something, and Harry was well-known by now at excelling

in every class they had.

School had actually been going very well for Harry Potter.

He was always the top in every single one of his classes,

was always the first to get every spell right and always got

it on the very first try (in class at least), and was always

providing help to the other students, much to his teacher's

delight.

There was some jealousy of his academic prowess from a

few of the students. It was an unfortunate consequence of

excelling in everything he did. While many people were

assuaged by the fact that he was perfectly happy to help

them, a few of the more academically-oriented students

who enjoyed being at the top of their class tended to glare

at him when he tried to help them. During these instances

Harry would just focus on that old saying about how you

couldn't please them all. No matter how hard he worked at

being liked and respected by his peers, there would

always be some that he simply would not be able to

please.

One of these people that he took particular notice of was

Hermione Granger, the muggleborn witch who was

consistently near the top of every class. She was usually

the second or third—though there were other times when

she was fifth or even sixth—to get a spell right and had

steadfastly refused his help. Lately he had noticed that the

girl had been looking rather despondent. She seemed

much more withdrawn than usual and had even stopped

lecturing her fellow Gryffindors whenever she was in the

house common room.

In fact, he rarely ever saw her in the common room except

when she was passing through, either up to her room or

into the castle proper. According to rumor (Padma and

Lavender), Hermione would often disappear for several

hours at a time and no one knew where she went, though

many (Padma and Lavender) said they had seen her

crying.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to think of that. If he were

honest, he did feel bad for the girl. At the same time, it

wasn't really his fault. Yes, he was doing better than her in

all of their classes, and he had even helped people

surpass her in some of them, but it wasn't as if he had not

offered her the same help as well. Indeed, Harry had tried

multiple times to help the girl out, but was rebuffed each

time.

In the end, he had just decided to give up. You couldn't

help those who didn't want it. And who knows, maybe she

would come around in time.

Surprisingly, the only subject he was not the best in was

Herbology, where he was currently tied for the rankings of

first place with Neville.

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Chapter 096

Of course, saying he was not the best usually implied that

he was in second place, not tied for first. It was only due to

Harry's innate competitive streak and sense of fair play

that made him refuse to admit he was first in that class.

Harry had several very distinct advantages over Neville,

not the least of which was his eidetic memory. Despite the

fact that Harry got perfect grades without even needing to

do much studying beyond what he felt like doing to go

above and beyond what was required in his academia,

Neville was still tied with him for first. For this reason,

Harry conceded that Neville was simply better at that

particular subject than he was, painful though it was to

admit.

"You're right about that," Terry said, his voice now clear

after finally managing to regain control over his breathing.

"Flitwick would definitely be amused to learn this. He'd

probably get a few laughs even if he already knows."

Professor Filius Flitwick was definitely one of their favorite

teachers. Unlike the stern Professor McGonagall, the

scowling Snape, or the overly happy and cheerful

Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick was the kind of

teacher who was not only easy to talk to, but also had a

sense of humor and didn't mind making fun of himself in

order to get a point across.

That was not to say none of the other teacher's had their

good points. Harry was actually quite fond of his Head of

House, though a part of this may have been due to her

partiality towards him. It was a very subtle thing, but it was

quite clear to Harry that she favored him, in part due to his

own talent in Transfiguration, but also because of who his

parents were. He was not sure how he felt about that, as it

was his belief that teachers should be impartial regardless

of personal feelings.

Still, in spite of her favoritism he knew enough about the

woman to know that, even if she did favor him, it would not

be enough to keep him out of trouble should he actually

do something that warrants a scolding. God only knows

how many times she scolded his father for doing

something stupid.

His musings on the various teachers and their methods of

instructing students was halted when a stern and angry

voice spoke to the group.

"Excuse me, but if you lot are going to continue to be so

loud, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Harry turned to look at the angry form of Madam Irma

Pince. Madam Pince was a very irritable-looking woman,

the kind who looked like she might start spewing fire at the

slightest provocation. She also reminded Harry of an

underfed vulture. Her skin was rough and leathery, like

parchment, her cheeks were sunken and hollow, her face

was shriveled with wrinkles, and she had an unflattering

hook nose. She was also very thin, something Harry

noticed through her thick robes. Yes, underfed vulture was

definitely the most apt description for her.

"I'm very sorry, Madam Pince," Harry said, bowing to the

woman and adopting a regretful and properly chastised

face. "I am afraid my friends and I were so caught up in

some humorous facts we had learned while doing our

homework that we forgot ourselves. I promise that it will

never happen again."

If it were at all humanly possible and would not have given

him away, Harry would have given himself a pat on the

back for his acting skills. If being a wizard failed he could

always just go to Hollywood and become a world famous

actor, he thought with an amusement that he refused to

show the others.

In the meantime, he would begin looking up silencing

charms. While the standard muffling spell was useful, it

not only didn't block out noise in its entirety, but only

ensured that noise could not move through an inanimate

object, such as a door or window. He would need

something that created a bubble of silence between him

and his friends and the rest of the world so they could talk

with impunity.

Madam Pince continued to glare sternly at Harry as he

stood up from his bow. Her angry gaze swept across to

the other seven with him, all of whom except for Blaise

flinched when it was directed at them. She eventually went

back to looking at Harry, before giving him a stiff nod.

"See that it doesn't, Mr. Potter."

As the strict woman walked off, muttering about

'disrespectful brats who don't know how to respect her

library' under her breath, Harry Potter turned around to

see most of his friends staring at him in shock. Or as was

the case with Tracey, awe.

"What?" he asked, actually feeling uncomfortable. He felt

as if he had suddenly been put on the spot without

knowing why. It almost reminded him of that 'Punked'

show Lisa occasionally watched.

"How did you do that?" asked Tracey.

"Do what?" asked Harry, blinking several times before he

realized what she was asking about. "You mean how did I

get Madam Pince to not kick us out?" When Tracey

nodded her head emphatically, looking almost like those

bauble heads, he grinned. "Why do you want to know?"

"Why do I want to know?" Tracey parroted incredulously.

"What do you mean 'why do I want to know?' Do you know

how awesome it would be to get out of trouble with

nothing but a few words? If I could do what you just did

with my parents, I would never have to worry about being

grounded for sneaking out into the backyard at night so I

could fly my broom without supervision again."

Harry just barely withheld his snort. Leave it to Tracey

Davis to get in trouble for something like that. If there was

one thing he had learned about the Slytherin girl it was

that she was one of the biggest broom fanatics this side of

Hogwarts. She loved everything about brooms, every

single fact and facet regardless of how useless, she knew

it all. This, of course, included things like which Quidditch

star used which brand of brooms, how long they had

them, and how many times they had been forced to get

them replaced for one reason or another; she even knew

the reason each broom had been replaced.

She was also a complete Quidditch fanatic, and could

debate facts on the sport for hours without end. Harry

knew this from personal experience.

______________________________________________

___________

Chapter 097

"Well, I suppose that's as good a reason as any," Harry

replied with a mild dose of sarcasm. The grin on his face

as he sat down next to her and Hannah let the girl know

he was joking. "So you want to know my secret to

escaping unfavorable predicaments with people like

teachers and parents?"

Tracey blinked several times at the large vocabulary he

had just used. While the girl wasn't dumb by any stretch of

the imagination, few if any of the people she knew used

such complicated words. Harry just liked saying large,

complex multi-syllable words because it made him sound

more intelligent. After a moment or two she gave him

another nod.

"Well," Harry leaned in and cupped a hand to his mouth,

as if he were about to share some great secret. Tracey,

eager to learn how he could get himself out of trouble time

and time again with mere words, leaned in to hear his

words of wisdom.

Harry smiled as his mouth stopped right next to her ear.

The others also leaned in, hoping to learn his secret as

well.

"It's a secret."

"Prat!" Tracey hissed as she took a swipe at him. Harry

chuckled as he leaned back and rubbed the shoulder she

smacked.

"That really hurt you know," Harry said with a small grin.

"Is this how you show your appreciation after all the

assistance I've given you with your classwork?" he

moaned piteously while tossing the others a wink. "I don't

know if I can continue to help such a violent and unruly

girl."

"You did kind of deserve it, Harry," Hannah informed him,

speaking up before Tracey could. Said girl huffed at Harry,

but decided let the pig-tailed blond speak for her. Being

the closest to the pair. she had been able to hear his

words much more clearly than the others, and would admit

to being disappointed about not learning how he could be

so persuasive. "I kind of want to hit you myself."

"But you wouldn't do that, would you, Hannah?" asked

Harry with slightly pleading eyes. Hannah flushed a bit,

and Harry continued. "You're not like that abusive and

violent girl over there, are you?" he continued, pointing

over at Tracey.

"Oi!"

"Of course not," Hannah said, turning her head away from

Harry for a second. "But that doesn't mean I'm not

disappointed. And while I wouldn't hit you, I wouldn't stop

Tracey from hitting you either."

Harry tried to give Hannah his best pout. Unfortunately

pouting was not an expression he had ever practiced

before, so his face looked more comical than cute and

caused his friends to laugh at him. Huffing, Harry fought to

contain a smile as he saw how well his unification plan

was working.

The transition from thinking in terms of Houses to that of a

unified group of friends from different walks of life had not

been seamless; there was still the occasional problem, but

it was going much more smoothly than he had originally

anticipated. Really, the only issues that had cropped up

was when Blaise and Tracey had shown up to study with

them that first Saturday.

It wasn't anything they had done wrong, in fact, Tracey

had been rather nervous about sitting with a bunch of

people from other Houses. No doubt many of the older

students of her House had informed them about how the

other Houses hated and distrusted people in Slytherin

simply for being in the House of Snakes, and it had given

her a fear of opening up to people not of her House. She

had actually been on her best behavior because of that.

No, the problem had not come from the two Slytherins but

from everyone else. It was a very unfortunate

circumstance, but the fact of the matter was that whoever

had informed Tracey of the distrust the other three Houses

held against Slytherin had been right. No one trusted the

House of Snakes. All of the first years in the other three

Houses had been told of how untrustworthy Slytherins

were and warned to watch out for them. This led to his

other friends becoming quiet and tense when Blaise and

Tracey showed up.

This hadn't stopped Harry though. In an effort to breach

the gap dividing Slytherin from the other three houses, he

had spent most of that study session talking to Blaise and

Tracey. He helped them with their homework, talked with

them about their interests and hobbies, and did everything

he could to not only make them feel comfortable but let

the others know that he trusted them.

Trust was the main issue here. No one trusted anyone

from Slytherin because of the misbegotten rumors that

Slytherin produced Dark Wizards. Once again, Harry had

to curse that damnable fool, Voldemort, for ruining a once

noble house with his mad ideals and idiocy. The stain

brought about by the actions of the most recent Dark Lord

even made people forget that Merlin himself, a man not

only known for being the most powerful wizard in

existence, but also for being the most muggle friendly

wizard in history, had been in Slytherin House. Were

Voldemort not already dead, Harry would've mercilessly

crushed the man for making his goals that much more

difficult.

Despite the minor hardship that came with two Slytherins

joining their study group, the others eventually overcame

their differences and now Tracey and Blaise were as much

a part of the group as Susan and Hannah were.

He now had friends in all four houses, and once people

began to see that the rivalries certain houses held for

each other (Slytherin and Gryffindor) could be overcome,

he would be able to expand his influence into each house

with more ease.

"What about you, Susan?" Harry turned his attention to the

redhead who, upon being put in the spotlight, let out an

'eep!' as her cheeks took on a light pink coloration. It was

actually an improvement from the way her entire face used

to turn as red whenever he addressed her. "You're not

disappointed in me, are you?"

"Ah, um..." Susan seemed to struggle to find the right

words to tell him, and the red on her face began to

gradually darken the longer the others at her table stared

at her. By the time she finally did speak, she looked like

she wanted to disappear beneath her robes. "No?"

"Thanks, Sue," Harry said, completely ignoring the way his

red-haired friend blushed at the nickname he had given

her. He turned to look at the Tracey and Hannah. "See

that, why can't you two be more magnanimous and sweet

like her?"

______________________________________________

___________

Chapter 098

While Susan's face began taking on the same glow as a

red star, Tracey quipped, "because if everyone was like

Susan this world would be a very boring place." Realizing

that what she said could be construed as an insult, the

brunette quickly turned to the shy Hufflepuff and said, "not

that there's anything wrong with being nice like you. Just

that the world needs more... more..."

"Variety?" Lisa supplied when she saw Tracey struggling

to find the right word.

"Yeah, that's it!" Tracey snapped her fingers as her face

took on a 'eureka!' expression. "The world needs more

variety, otherwise it would get very boring very fast."

"Such an eloquent speaker," Harry teased the girl for

requiring someone else to come up with a proper noun for

her to use. "You ever thought of becoming a politician?"

While Tracey huffed at him in mock indignation, Blaise

gave him a calculating look.

"I think the only one who wants to become a politician is

you."

Harry looked over at Blaise and sent the boy a wide smile.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Right," Blaise drawled with an amused smirk.

"Not to put a rain on your guys' parade or anything,"

Neville interrupted, speaking for the first time since their

bantering had begun. "But I think you might want to leave,

Harry, or you may be late."

Harry blinked at Neville for several seconds, before

looking out the nearest window. Where the sun had once

been set low on the horizon, now it had risen so high up

that he could no longer see it from his position near the

window.

Eyes widening in horror, Harry waved his wand and cast

the tempus charm. Glowing numbers arranged themselves

in midair, showing him that it was almost ten o'clock.

"Dammit!" Harry hissed, swearing for the first time in a

long time. He quickly grabbed his bag filled with notes he

had written to help his friends and threw it over his

shoulder. His hurried and jumbled,

"Sorryaboutthisgottagobye!" was barely even heard much

less understood by his friends as he bolted out of the

library, much to Madam Pince's ire.

"Well," Tracey started as she stared at the spot her newest

friend just vacated, blinking. "At least we now know that

Mr. Perfect isn't quite so perfect."

Her words brought another round of snickers from the

others. None of them would deny that it was amusing to

watch the normally calm and composed Harry Potter

making a mad and panicked dash out of the door like a

man possessed.

Blaise summed up his thoughts quite nicely.

"It would definitely make good blackmail material, should

we ever need it."

Tracey sent him an amused look while the others blinked,

wondering if he would really blackmail his friend or if he

was just joking.

"My, how Slytherin of you, Blaise."

Blaise smirked.

"I try."

XoX

Harry sped down the many halls of Hogwarts, cursing

himself for having lost track of time. This had never

happened before. Harry had always been a very punctual

person. A part of having eidetic memory and quite possibly

the worst case of OCD ever recorded was that his internal

clock always knew what time it was. Always.

Well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. He would

sometimes lose track of time when he was with Lisa, but

those were instances where he was finished with

everything and had nothing to do for the rest of the day

except to spend time with his best friend, so it didn't

matter. It was pretty much time he allowed to slip by him

so it was alright.

This, nearly missing out on something he had been

expecting for the past few weeks because he lost track of

time, was not something he had expected or allowed.

Growling to himself, Harry put such thoughts out of his

mind and tore down the stairs, taking them four, five,

sometimes even six or seven at a time. He could feel his

magic working through his legs as he used his unique

ability to reinforce himself in order to counteract the

possible damage he might receive for jumping several

sets of stairs at once, as well as to speed up his pace.

He reached the bottom very quickly, and his feet had

scarcely touched the floor when he pushed himself into

another sprint.

Harry tore his way out of the Entrance Hall and zoomed

across the grassy landscape of Hogwarts, making his way

to the large Quidditch Pitch.

The Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch was large, nearly three

times the size of a football field. Stands rose into the sky

on all sides, each one decorated with the colors of one of

the four Houses. Spectators sat in the low walls built in

between the stands, while Harry assumed the teachers

sat in the high stands for better viewing.

Lush green grass met his feet as he stepped out onto the

field. Six large hoops, three on either side of the Pitch,

loomed overhead.

Harry could see the crowd of those who were trying out

had already gathered. He recognized all them thanks to

his perfect memory. The Quidditch captain, he noted, was

not there. Good. It meant he had made it in time.

A few of them stood out more than others, chief among

them being the two Weasley twins, Fred and George

Weasley. He also recognized Angelina Johnson and Alicia

Spinnet, both students in their third year. Angelina was an

attractive witch with dark skin, black hair and brown eyes,

while Alicia had olive-colored skin and brown hair and

eyes.

Amongst the others he could easily make out Katie Bell,

an athletic looking and attractive second year witch with

dirty blond hair and doe-like brown eyes. She often hung

out with Angelina and Alicia. With her, he also recognized

Cormac McLaggen, Carl Hopkins, David Norton, and

Jason Swann, all second years looking to try out.

As Harry made his way towards the group, Fred and

George Weasley spotted him from where they were

huddled together, no doubt plotting something devious.

The pair grinned as soon as they saw him, and drew the

eyes of the others towards them as they walked over to

Harry.

"Well, if it isn't young Harrikens out for a stroll."

______________________________________________

___________

Chapter 099

"Have you come to cheer us on during our try outs?"

Harry's lips twitched into an amused smile. He really was

rather fond of the two trouble makers. In his mind, the

Weasley twins were upholding his father's tradition of

causing mischief around the school, something he could

not do since it would ruin his sterling reputation as an

upstanding and helpful student.

"Watch you guys try out?" Harry asked with a playful scoff.

"Do you really think I would be here to cheer you two

troublemakers on? No." He shook his head and adopted a

pompous look. "I am here to try out for the Seeker

position."

He had decided to try out ever since his first flying lesson

had ended. During their free time, he and Tracey had

taken to the sky, and while his Slytherin friend had simply

flown loops at a leisurely pace, Harry had taken his desire

for a thrill to the extreme. Having remembered the many

stunts his father had shown him and spoken of, Harry had

tried to emulate those maneuvers: dive bombing toward

the ground before pulling up at the last minute, barrel rolls

and gut turning loop-de-loops, skimming the grass while

he was upside down before turning about at a sharp

ninety degree angle without losing any speed. He had

gotten so lost in what he'd been doing that he hadn't even

realized the entire crowd of first years and Madam Hooch

gawking at him.

When he had finally come down, the flight instructor with

hawk-like eyes had informed him that she had never seen

such marvelous flying since his father, and that he should

consider trying out for the school team next year.

Of course, Harry being Harry had decided to try out this

year. Thus the reason he was now standing at the

Quidditch Pitch with the other hopefuls.

There were two reasons Harry had decided to try out for

the Gryffindor Quidditch. The first was because making

the team would boost his reputation, and making the team

as a first year would raise it even more so. There had

never been a first year to gain entrance onto the House

teams, as far as he knew, and definitely never one who

had gained the position of Seeker, which was often the

considered the most prestigious position. If he could

become the Gryffindor Seeker in his first year, his standing

amongst his peers would be raised even more, and he

would be that much closer to stepping out of the shadow

his title as the Boy-Who-Lived cast.

The second reason was much more personal, and in

many ways, far more important to him. His father, James

Potter, aside from his prodigious talents in Transfiguration

and his knack for getting into trouble with pranks, had

been one of the greatest Quidditch Players in the last

century. He had been so good that by the time he

graduated Hogwarts he'd had seven propositions by

various Quidditch teams asking him to sign a contract with

them as a Chaser.

Unfortunately, the war had still been going strong and his

father's sense of justice led him to not accepting the

positions. Instead he had joined the fight against

Voldemort, which ultimately led to his parents demise.

Harry did not blame his dad for what had happened, or for

the fact that his desire to fight against the Dark Lord led to

Harry being raised by the Dursleys. Voldemort's campaign

against wizarding Britain had been more of an

extermination of all things non-magical and different,

including those witches and wizards born from nonmagical parents. That meant his mother had been a

target, and would have always been a target no matter if

they had entered the war or not. Who knows what might

have happened had they not decided to fight. Perhaps

things would have happened differently and all three of

them would have died in a Death Eater Raid.

"Trying out for the position of a Seeker?" questioned Fred,

blinking.

"I do believe that is what he said, Gred."

"A first year?"

"Indeed, a first year."

"Isn't that against school rules?"

"I'm surprised you two are even concerned about whether

it's allowed or not," Harry interrupted. "Considering neither

of you are sterling examples of rule abiding students."

"Oooh, that hurts Harrikens, right here." George placed his

hands over his heart and gave Harry a hurt look, as if the

young raven haired youth had just stabbed him in the

chest.

"I will have you know that my brother and I are the most

upstanding young men you will ever meet."

"Indeed, we are perfect gentlemen."

"Right you are, dear brother of mine."

"I couldn't help but notice," Harry began with an amused

eyebrow raised. "That neither of you said anything about

being rule abiding."

The two twins looked at each other, then back at Harry.

"By golly, you're right! We didn't, did we?"

"Well, it's not as if we can say otherwise. Mischief makers

we may be, but liars we are not."

"So," Fred swung his left arm around Harry's shoulder

while George swung his right around Harry's other

shoulder. "Our little firsty thinks he's got what it takes to

make the team?"

"You know, it is quite difficult to make the team. Especially

with our captain. He's very... driven when it comes to

Quidditch."

"Obsessed is more like it."

"Indeed."

"I believe my skills will speak for themselves once I'm in

the air," Harry informed them. He had complete

confidence in his own abilities. He may have only flown on

his own once—not counting the toy broom he had

received from Sirius when he was one—but when he had

been on that broom he had never felt more at least. It had

felt like the broom was an extension of himself, rather than

a piece of wood between his legs.

"You seem pretty confident," Angelina said as Harry, Fred

and George stopped next to the other students waiting for

the try outs. "Getting on the team isn't easy, and it will be

even harder for you since you're a firsty."

"As I said, my skills will speak for themselves once we're

in the air," Harry told her with a smile. "I don't believe

we've met before." He stuck out his hand. "Harry Potter."

Angelina gave him an amused smile before sticking out

her own hand.

"Angelina Johnson."

"A pleasure," Harry said as he took her hand in his grasp

and laid a kiss on her knuckles.

"Such a gentlemen you are," Fred exclaimed.

______________________________________________

___________

Chapter 100

"Would you kiss my hand too?" asked George, batting his

eyelashes at Harry.

Before Harry could come up with a suitable retort, both

Angelina and Alicia smacked the two in the back of the

head.

"Oh, stop it, you two," Alicia drawled as the twins held the

back of their heads in mock pain. "Honestly, can't you

troublemakers ever be serious for once in your life?"

"My dear Alicia, who do you think you're talking to?"

"Of course we can't be serious. How would we manage

our mischief if we were?"

Alicia gave a heavy sigh, as if she had heard that

response a thousand times. Considering how practiced

the act of smacking Fred had been for her, Harry would

not be surprised if she had.

The olive-skinned girl turned to him and smiled as she

held out her hand. "Alicia Spinnet," she introduced as

Harry kissed the back of her hand as he had Angelina's.

"Charmed," Harry replied with a charming smile. He then

turned to the last female of their group, who looked like

she was hiding out behind Angelina. "And you are?"

Katie Bell flushed slightly, before shaking her head and

smiling at him as she daintily held out her hand.

"Katie Bell, pleased to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine," Harry returned with a smile as

he repeated the gesture he had done for Angelina and

Alicia. Katie blushed a bit and her smile seemed to widen.

Behind Harry, George leaned into Fred so he could

whisper in his brother's ear.

"He's quite smooth, isn't he?"

"Indeed, I suspect we have a soon to be Casanova on our

hands."

Harry felt like rolling his eyes as he heard the pair of

troublemaker's words. Just because he was acting in the

appropriate manner of an heir to an Ancient and Most

Noble House did not mean he was some kind of

womanizer. He was nothing like the fops Lisa always read

about in those trashy romance novels of hers. Honestly, it

was as if they two had never heard of pureblood etiquette.

Then again, knowing who they were and what family they

were born into, maybe they hadn't.

"So you think you have what it takes to make seeker?"

All eyes turned from Harry to the person who spoke.

Cormac McLaggen stood before the younger man, arms

crossed and a sneer on his face.

"As I have already informed everyone multiple times, I'll let

my skills speak for themselves once I'm on a broom,"

Harry told the boy coolly. He knew very little about

McLaggen, and what little he did know was from what he

had observed thus far in the common room. Cormac was

a braggart, pure and simple. He may have talent, but the

fact that he would often brag about his own prodigious

skills while showing none of them simply rubbed Harry the

wrong way.

McLaggen grunted as he uncrossed his arms.

"We'll see if you can keep that confidence when the tryouts start."

As if summoned by the word 'try-outs,' the Quidditch team

captain stalked onto the field, a broom slung over his

shoulder and a heavy looking chest in one hand.

Captain Oliver Wood was a rather burly fifth year student

with brown hair and eyes, and was of broad shoulders and

chest. He was very tall, standing head and shoulders taller

than Harry, and was one of those few wizards who actually

looked like he exercised extensively. He had a very

commanding presence about him, and there was a

maniacal looking gleam in his eyes that several of the

people there (Angelina, Alicia, Fred and George)

shuddered at when they saw it.

"Alright you lot!" Oliver started as soon as he was on the

pitch. "Try outs are starting now. Those who are trying out

for the Beater position move over to the left side of the

pitch. Chasers front and center, and Seekers over to the

right."

Clearly, this was a man who had no desire for inane

pleasantries or long-winded speeches. He was all

business.

While Fred and George walked over to the left side of the

pitch with Jason Swann, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Carl

Hopkins, and David Norton stayed where they were.

Cormac McLaggen was the only other person besides

Harry himself who walked over to the right where the

Seekers were supposed to be.

"Oi! What's a firsty doing here?"

Harry turned at Oliver's shout and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm here to try-out," he informed the much older boy.

Oliver frowned.

"First years aren't allowed on the teams. Sorry gent, but

you'll have to leave. You can always try for a position next

year."

Harry ignored the grins he was getting from Fred and

George, as well as smug look he got from McLaggen and

stared at the burly teen in front of him.

"Actually, there is no rule that says a first year can't be on

the team," he corrected, causing Oliver to blink. "It only

states that first years aren't allowed to bring their own

brooms. People just assume a first year can't make the

team because of it."

"Whatever the case is, I still can't let you on the team,"

Oliver said. "Not being allowed to bring your own broom is

just as bad as not being allowed on the team. I don't know

if you noticed, but the school brooms are the biggest

pieces of shite I've ever seen. You're as likely to get killed

trying to fly one as you are to stay in the air."

"Ah, but what if I told you that I have a sure fire plan that

will allow me to use an extremely good broom without

breaking any school rules?" asked Harry, smiling as he

saw Oliver look at him like he had grown a second head.

"How can you use your own broom if you can't even bring

it to school?"

"You let me worry about that," Harry told him. When he

saw the Quidditch captain was not convinced he said,

"let's just say I have a full proof plan that will allow me to

use my broom without repercussions and leave it at that.

All I'm asking for is the chance to get on the team. Let me

try-out. If I'm not good enough than there's no harm done,

right?" He could see Oliver was on the fence, and decided

that one more push was needed. "Besides, if I can beat

McLaggen over here using one of the school brooms,

imagine what I could do on a broom that doesn't have the

potential to be fatal every time you ride it."

That seemed to settle things for Oliver.

"Alright, you can try out," he told him reluctantly. "But if I

don't think you've got what it takes, it's off the pitch with

you. Got it?"

____________

Chapter 101

"Of course," Harry said smoothly, giving a serene smile at

his accomplishment. Now all he had to do was prove his

skills on a broom; an easy enough task to accomplish so

long as McLaggen's talent as a braggart was not matched

by his talent on a broom.

Quidditch try-outs started soon after. Harry was forced to

listen to Cormac MgLaggen brag about how he was going

to beat Harry and get his rightful position on the team.

Harry wished he could ignore the boy, and cursed his

eidetic memory for burning this conversation—if the act of

one person talking about his own greatness for the sole

purpose of hearing himself talk while the other tried to

ignore him could be considered a conversation—into his

memory.

Thankfully, Harry had a lot of practice at pretending to

ignore people, and so while he was not able to get the

braggart's continued speaking out of his head, he was still

able to focus on the rest of the try-outs.

He had never questioned that Fred and George Weasley

would get the Beater positions. Aside from the fact that

they were a two-for-one package as they worked quite

flawlessly together, probably because they were twins,

there was only one other person trying out for the beater

position, and Jason Swann simply didn't have the

extraordinary ability to work in perfect synchronicity with

either of the twins that they had with each other.

Of those who tried out for Chasers, Angelina Johnson and

Alicia Spinnet soon proved to be the obvious choices for

two of the three spots available. From what he knew the

pair had already been on last years team with Fred and

George. They certainly showed a lot of talent and

teamwork skills when their time came to show what they

could do.

The other position as Chaser was given to Katie Bell. She

was not as good as Angelina or Alicia, and technically

speaking Carl Hopkin was better. However, while the

pureblood student had more talent on a broom, Katie was

more compatible and better able to work with the other

two girls than he was. And in a position where teamwork

meant everything, the ability to work with those you play

alongside of is more important than your talent flying a

broom.

After nearly two hours of watching the other students tryouts and listening to the incredibly long-winded McLaggen

boasting about how he was going to beat Harry, the time

finally came for the two going out for the Seeker position

to put their skills to the test.

By now, all of the people who had been chosen to be on

the team were near the stands so they could watch on and

see who got the position, while those who lost had

dejectedly made their way back to the common room.

Harry could see Fred and George talking with Angelina

and Alicia while Katie watched on in obvious amusement.

He wondered what the twins were doing. If they were

anything like the Marauders, they were probably taking

bets on which one of them would get the Seeker position,

he reasoned.

"Alright you two, mount your brooms," Oliver instructed

them as he knelt down next to the trunk he had brought.

As Harry mounted his broom, he saw Oliver unlock a clasp

that kept the tiniest of the balls used for Quidditch, the

Snitch.

Quidditch was a sport that had three different types of

balls that were kept in play. Bludgers, large leathery balls

that would attack the players. It was the Beaters job to

keep them away from the players on their team and, if

possible, hit them at the players on the other team. The

Quaffle, which Harry likened to a football, was the object

that the three Chasers focused on, and it was their job to

get the Quaffle through one of the three hoops while the

Keeper tried to keep the Quaffle from entering.

The snitch was the smallest of the three. It was a tiny

golden ball smaller even than Harry's palm. On either side

it possessed a pair of wings that fluttered and beat with

speeds of a hummingbird. It was the job of the position he

was going out for, the Seeker, to find and catch the snitch

before the other team's Seeker did. Doing so would not

only end the game, but gave the team whose Seeker

caught it 150 points, which most often but not always won

the game. This was why the Seeker's position was so

important.

Beside Harry, Cormac MgLaggen also mounted his

broom, while Oliver looked at the pair with a disturbing

maniacal gleam in his eyes.

"I'm going to release the snitch," Oliver informed them

both, holding up the fluttering ball as it tried to squirm out

of his grasp. "The one who catches the Snitch two out of

three times will be the one who gets the Seeker position.

You got that?"

"Of course," MgLaggen said in a pompous voice. "Just

save that position for me after I finish showing young

Harry how a real Seeker plays."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he focused on

Oliver.

"I'm ready."

"Right." Oliver released the Snitch and let it fly off. He

brought a whistle to his lips. "When I blow this whistle, you

two are to start looking for the snitch. On my mark..."

Harry took a deep breath and let his body relax as he

prepared to kick off. Beside him, Cormac MgLaggen

tightened his grip on the handle of his broom.

"Three..."

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Chapter 102

For a moment, Harry felt a small trickle of anxiety. What if

he wasn't good enough? What if MgLaggen really was

better than him? What if he didn't make the team? While

he had decided to try out in order to boost his reputation,

there was a big chance his reputation could be sullied.

How bad would it look to his peers if he, a first year, went

out for the Quidditch team and failed? He would look like

an arrogant and presumptuous child who bit off more than

he could chew, and it would make people question

whether or not he was really everything they thought he

was.

"Two..."

No! he couldn't think like that. Defeatist thinking always led

to defeat. He couldn't let fear rule him. The first enemy to

conquer if he wanted to succeed was fear, just like his

master always told him, and he would rather give it his all

and fail knowing he tried his best, then not even try

because he was too afraid of failure.

"One..."

The whistle blew and Harry put everything except the task

at hand out of his mind as he pushed off the ground. All of

his worries, all of his hopes, all of his goals and desires

faded, as if they were a dream. Right now, only one thing

mattered: getting the Snitch before MgLaggen.

MgLaggen decided to take the high ground in his search

for the Snitch. No doubt he hoped that the overhead view

would allow him to find it more quickly than Harry. In most

cases, that would probably work, but not against someone

like Harry.

Using his unnaturally perceptive vision granted to him

through his eidetic memory, Harry swerved along the pitch

on his broom, memorizing everything he laid eyes. Any

change taking place in between sweeps would be

cataloged into his mind and referenced for future use at

light speeds.

His eyes darted from left to right, up and down, while his

head constantly turned and scanned the area. So long as

the Snitch wasn't hiding behind one of the stands, he

would see it.

There! He could see the Snitch hanging low to the ground

near one of the student stands on the opposite side of the

pitch. MgLaggen hadn't noticed it yet, he wasn't even

looking in the right direction.

Harry felt a grin come to his face as his competitive side

came to the fore. Wanting to snatch the Snitch before his

opponent could even begin to guess what was happening,

the raven-haired boy urged his broom towards the small

golden ball with wings.

His broom felt sluggish under his grip, and Harry could feel

it begin veering towards the left as he pushed it past its

boundaries. Small bucks and jerks tried to rock it this way

and that, but he kept a firm grip on the handle and let his

magic flow through his fingers and into the wood. Slowly

but surely, the spastic jerks ceased for the most part, with

only a few relatively minor bucks that were easily quelled.

The Snitch was much closer now. It zoomed to the left and

Harry tailed it doggedly. MgLaggen had only just realized

that Harry was on the Snitch's tail and tried to coax his

broom to zoom in on them so he could take the winged

ball out from under Harry's nose.

His broom was much faster than Harry's. A Comet 290,

one of the faster brooms out there. However, despite the

speed advantage he had over Harry, he was too far away

to catch up before Harry caught the Snitch.

"Excellent job, Potter!" Oliver said as Harry handed the

small ball over to him with a grin. MgLaggen landed

beside them, glaring at the younger year. It was a glare

that went ignored by the other two. "You get it one more

time and you're on the team. Better try harder if you want

on with us, MgLaggen."

MgLaggen looked like he was about to burst a blood

vessel his face was so red. Harry ignored him in favor of

letting his eyesight fall upon a group of people who had

come onto the pitch sometime before he caught the

Snitch.

Blaise, Hannah, Lisa, Neville, Susan, Terry and Tracey

had all come onto the Quidditch Pitch, probably to watch

him, and huddled in a group with the Weasley Twins, who

looked like they were trying to convince the first years to

place their bets on who would be getting the Seeker

position.

"Let's do this again." Oliver's voice caused Harry to look

away from his friends and focus on the task at and, getting

the Snitch before MgLaggen.

The second time was not as easy as the first. The moment

the whistle was blown, MgLaggen began tailing Harry, a

not unexpected developing, considering what happened

last time.

Harry did not try to look for the Snitch immediately. With

MgLaggen following him around like a mouse on cheese,

trying to find the Snitch would not be the wisest decision.

The other boy's broom was faster. Even if Harry was more

skilled, which was still an untested theory seeing as the

last competition had been won due in no small part to

luck, the difference between their brooms would outstrip

any skill advantage.

Instead Harry took MgLaggen on a chase. He wove

through the stands, rose into the air and dove towards the

ground. All of it done in an effort to make MgLaggen

confused and disoriented. Whether it worked or not, Harry

didn't know. Turning his head to look behind him, he saw

that MgLaggen was still tailing him and the older student's

eyes were locked on him like the cross hairs of a fighter

jet.

Well, it wasn't quite what he wanted, but this would still

suit Harry's needs. So long as the boy was so focused on

him that he didn't focus on the Snitch, that was all that

mattered.

He found the Snitch in short order. It had only been five

minutes since the ball was released, and it was flitting

about near the hoops closest to him. MgLaggen hadn't

noticed it, so focused was his attention on Harry.

That was good. Now all he needed to do was get near the

Snitch without alerting MgLaggen that he had found the

Snitch.

With a yank of his broom, Harry quickly ascended into the

skies. MgLaggen followed without a hint of hesitation,

making Harry smile. When they past the general altitude

where the Snitch was, Harry turned his broom so it would

move over the hoops.

Predictably, MgLaggen followed, still completely unaware

of what Harry was doing. Good. Just a little more

maneuvering and he would be in position to get the

Snitch.

The Snitch was still near the spot he had originally seen it.

The ball had only moved a bit. Now it was near the left

hoop. As soon as Harry felt he was close enough, he

shove the broom down as hard as it could go, making a

steep dive toward the Snitch.

It must have seen him, or sensed him, or however it was

the Snitch could tell a player was near. As soon as Harry

entered his dive, it took off in its own swift descent towards

the ground.

Harry felt a growl escape his throat. His eyes narrowed as

he laid himself nearly flat against the broom to decrease

his wind resistance. He could feel the broom shuddering

as he pushed it far beyond its normal limits and did what

he could with his magic to keep it stable.

______________________________________________

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Chapter 103

His vision narrowed in on the Snitch and everything else

faded out of his mind. Now it was just him and the Snitch.

It had not pulled out of its dive and was nearing the

ground now and, despite the dangers present, Harry

refused to move out of his dive either. He stuck on its tail

like a magnet and refused to move away.

When the Snitch was just a few feet from the ground it

pulled out of its dive, turning nearly ninety degrees exactly

and began running parallel to the ground. It had not lost

an ounce of momentum.

Harry jerked on the handle of his broom hard. His feet

touched the grass and Harry flinched as his broom nearly

flew out of control. It began shaking so erratically that he

was almost sure it would simply fall apart on him. And yet,

he refused to let that stop him. Not now. Not when he was

so close.

The Snitch was almost right next to him now. Just a few

feet away, feet that was beginning to disappear as he

closed in on it.

Three feet.

He felt the broom's shuddering as he picked up speed. It

wasn't going to last much longer.

Two feet.

His hands gripping the brooms handle for all it was worth,

Harry narrowed his eyes and focused on the Snitch.

One foot.

Keeping a firm grip on the broom with his left hand, Harry

stretched his right hand out in preparation the grab the

Snitch. He was close. So close. Just a few more inches.

He stretched his arm further and could feel the Snitch

grazing the tips his fingers. He was—

—Harry's eyes widened as he felt the broom getting

yanked out from under him and, suddenly, there was no

longer any broom underneath him and he found himself

airborne. He flew across the pitch but was losing altitude.

Lower and lower he descended and Harry, his body and

magic acting on nothing more than instinct, flung his left

hand out towards the ground.

His magic came forth, cushioning him as much as it was

able. It wasn't as much as he would have liked. He hit the

ground arm first, then rolled end over end for several feet

before stopping in a painful manner, lying on his back,

gasping for air as all the oxygen was driven from his

lungs.

Harry had no idea how long he laid there. His vision was

blurry and there was a ringing in his ears. It could have

been minutes, or it could have only been seconds.

Eventually, his eyes snapped back into focus, the ringing

stopped, and he became aware of the sound of rushing

feet and his name being frantically called by several

people.

"Harry!"

The first one to reach him was Susan Bones. The redhaired Hufflepuff looked close to tears as she knelt down

next to him. She looked frantic.

"Harry! Are you ok!? Where does it hurt!?"

Harry didn't get a chance to answer, because in that

moment, the rest of his friends reached him, and all of

them began asking more or less the same series of

questions, just worded differently by each person.

A moment of guilt passed through him as he saw that all of

his female friends looked like they were on the verge of

tears. Tracey was the only one who had any modicum of

control, and even her eyes were beginning to water at the

corners. He felt awful, like he had done something wrong,

like their tears were his fault. Yet at the same time he felt...

happy? Yes, he supposed that was the proper word for it.

He felt happy that they were worried about him so much

that they would cry for him. Happy and cared for.

He tried to suppress these feelings. Neither of them would

do any good right now. Not the guilt, and not the elation.

Everyone around him was still talking, asking him if he

was alright, but it all sounded like jumbled background

noise that his currently addled mind couldn't make sense

of. There was a pounding in his skull like that of a war

drum being beaten by a troll. He must have hit his head as

well, he concluded. Only when he had a concussion from

one too many knocks in the skull did he have trouble

understanding others.

He didn't worry about that though. Later tonight he could

sort through his memories and fix them up so he could

understand the separate words everyone was saying. For

now, he needed to focus on calming his friends down.

"I'm fine," Harry told everyone, holding up his hand so he

could get them to stop talking. It took a while, but the

noise died down to a more manageable level. When he

felt he would be heard over his friends, he asked, "what

happened?"

"That jerk MgLaggen is what happened!" Tracey said with

a scowl from where she knelt on his left. Harry looked at

her and she gestured to where MgLaggen was currently

surrounded by Oliver and the three Chasers. Fred and

George were off to the side, but they did not look

particularly pleased either. They were all yelling at the

second year, but were so far away he couldn't here what

they were saying. "The ponce had the gall to grab the

bristles of your broom and yanked it out from under you."

Her scowl darkened. "He's so lucky the others are berating

him or I would have shown him some of the hexes

Daphne's been teaching me."

While the comment about Daphne was interesting, Harry

decided to focus on something else. Namely, what he

should do with MgLaggen.

______________________________________________

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Chapter 104

He looked over at the boy cowering under the glare of the

three Chasers as they told him off for what he'd done.

Harry pondered, what kind of punishment did he deserve?

If he had anything to say about it, the other boy would be

shunned before the day was out.

That was actually a very harsh punishment to deal with,

being forsaken by all your friends, or previous friends. And

for someone like MgLaggen, who was a blow hard that

loved bragging to others, that might be the worst

punishment. The best part was, Harry wouldn't have to

actually lift a finger to do it. Other people would punish the

boy for him.

Deciding to assess the damage he had taken, Harry ran a

quick mental check of all his injuries. He had a minor

concussion, nothing too serious. Some bruising around his

back and chest. Those weren't bad either, and would be

easy to deal with. The only serious injury he could see

was his wrist. It was broken—a hairline fracture, from what

he could tell. He'd had enough of those to know how they

felt, and by running his magic along the damaged bone,

could feel the cracked line that ran about an inch long

near the center of his wrist. That one would take a bit of

effort to fix, but a good night directing his magic to the

wound would heal it easily enough.

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Susan. She seemed to

have gotten over her embarrassment around him, at least

temporarily, and checked him for injuries like an overworried mother.

"I'm fine," he assured the girl. "Or I will be after a good

nights rest."

"Oi, Potter!" Harry and those gathered around him looked

up to see Oliver and the rest of the Quidditch team

heading towards him. A quick glance showed Cormac

MgLaggen sulking as he made his way back to the

Gryffindor Tower. "You're not dead, are you? Cuz we still

need to see how well you do, and since Cormac isn't

getting on the team, I need you to catch that Snitch."

Scowls made their way onto the faces of his friends, even

sweet and innocent Susan Bones looked like she wanted

to snap at the older boy. Fortunately, none of them would

have to. Angelina did it for them by smacking Oliver on the

back of the head.

"I mean, erm, why don't we get you to the hospital," Oliver

amended as he rubbed his abused noggin.

"There's no need to send me to the hospital," Harry said

as he gingerly climbed to his feet. He swayed a bit as he

stood to his full height, but Neville came up and put a

hand on his shoulder to steady him. He gave the other boy

a nod of thanks, then turned back to Oliver. "More

importantly, I have something for you."

XXXX

I don't know when it happened, that moment I stopped

considering Lisa to be an annoyance. I sat at my desk, not

paying attention to my teacher's lecture, pondering, trying

to discern the moment Lisa became my... friend. Yes, that

was the word. I failed, unfortunately. I couldn't pinpoint any

specific incident when I began to think of her as something

more, something important. All I know is that it happened.

When the bell rang and class ended, I left the room with

the other students. Many some goodbye to me; some did

not. I didn't particularly care, but for the sake of being

polite, said goodbye back.

Lisa was waiting for me outside.

"Hey, Harry!" She greeted me with undiminished

enthusiasm. I tried hard not to smile.

"Lisa, how was class?"

"Boring!" She sang.

"Ha... boring, you say?"

"Really boring," she confirmed.

As we began our walk to the school entrance, I tried

convincing the girl about the importance of education. I

feel like most of my words flew over her head. That, or she

just wasn't paying attention. Either way, she didn't seem to

understand why learning and school was so important.

"So, Harry," Lisa said as we walked outside, the bright sun

bearing down on us from the clear sky overhead.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering." Lisa wasn't looking at me anymore.

She twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, looking

away. I frowned. "Would you be interested in having dinner

with my family this Saturday?"

I blinked.

"Dinner?"

"Mm."

She nodded, still not looking in my direction. I thought her

offer and, well, I couldn't see any reason not to accept her

invite. Dinner with Lisa sounded infinitely more pleasant

than dinner with the Dursleys. Still, a part of me felt

reluctant. Hadn't I been avoiding making friends because I

would be going to Hogwarts when I turned 11? Why form

bonds when they would eventually break? Better to not

befriend anyone than become friends and leave them later

on. Those were my thoughts.

And yet, as I looked at Lisa, I wondered. Would it really be

so bad? Surely, I could allow myself to befriend at least

one person. I'll admit, books were nice, but I still felt lonely.

Even sparring at the dojo didn't change this. I felt isolated,

alone, much like when I lived in that broom cupboard

underneath the stairs.

I'll also admit, if only to myself, that I did actually like Lisa.

She was bright and cheerful, a ray of sunshine breaking

through clouds of monotonous gray; a breath of fresh air,

refreshing and crisp, blowing away the staleness that had

become my life. That was Lisa Crawft.

"Sure," I agreed, and the cheerful expression on Lisa's

face let me know that I made the right decision.

______________________________________________

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Chapter 105

News of Harry becoming the new Seeker for the Gryffindor

Quidditch team spread quickly. The very day after try-outs

in fact. It seemed the Hogwarts rumor mill had been

working overtime with anything concerning him. Harry had

once more been the subject of much talk among the

student population, and even more gawking than he had

been subject to before.

This didn't bother Harry like it had back when school first

started and people gawked at him like he was some circus

freak show. At the beginning of school, when everyone

stared at him, it had been annoying. Now he actually

enjoyed them, because unlike before, the stares and

admiring glances and envious looks he received were

because of something he did; something he had

accomplished with his own skills and abilities; not because

of something that happened to him when he was a

helpless baby.

He would admit it felt nice to have people looking at him

with so much respect. To listen to students talking in the

hall about how Harry Potter, not the Boy-Who-Lived, but

Harry Potter made the Gryffindor team as its Seeker.

Acknowledgment. He was finally being acknowledged as

his own person. He still had a long ways to go before the

stigma of that thrice damned title disappeared, but he was

making inroads towards that goal.

The only real problem that came from his joining of the

Quidditch team, as far as he could see, was the jealousy

that came with the news. While many people were in awe

of him and looked at him with admiration and respect, just

as many were jealous of his accomplishment. Several

times while he walking through the hallway, he would hear

people talking about how how they could have done better

if they decided to try out for their teams. Draco Malfoy had

been particularly loud and obnoxious whenever he

discussed how unfair it was that Harry had been made

Seeker when he could have done so if he had realized it

was allowed.

That was not the worst of the dissension, however. No,

while the people boasting about how they could have

made the team if they tried, and put him down by claiming

he had only gotten on the team due to his fame because

they were jealous bothered him, they were easily ignored.

He would simply show them how wrong they were during

his first game and that would be that. By far, the worse

rumor was the one about how the staff was showing him

favoritism by letting him join the Quidditch team.

These rumors had no basis in fact. Professor McGonagall

had actually been against letting him join the team at first,

stating that it was against the rules. And when Harry told

her there was no rule claiming he was not allowed to join,

she told him it didn't matter because he could not bring a

broom to Hogwarts. It was only after a demonstration of

his skills and his promise that he had a plan that would let

him use a broom better than the ones Hogwarts

possessed without actually bringing his own (funny

because he doesn't have a broom) broom to school that

she finally relented. No one else knew this, however; only

his friends and his new teammates were aware of these

circumstances, and so rumor persisted.

He almost chuckled when he thought of how upset Oliver

was when news of Harry's position as the team's Seeker

came to light the next day. The man seemed to have been

hoping to keep it a secret until the first game. But of

course, that would have been impossible since there were

several people who saw him trying out that day.

According to rumor, one Cormac McLaggen had been

seen in the Gryffindor Common Room telling people about

how unfair it was that a first year became Seeker because

of his fame, when someone who was obviously more

talented (like him) had been denied. Harry did not know if

there was any veracity to those rumors, seeing as how he

was rarely in the Gryffindor Common Room, since he

preferred to spend time either with his friends or one of the

empty classrooms on the second floor practicing magic,

but when he took into account how much of a braggart

McLaggen was it made sense. He did not doubt for an

instant that the boy would say something like that in order

to lessen the sting on his pride.

Truly, his decision to become Gryffindor Seeker was a

double-edged sword.

With a small sigh, Harry put his thoughts on his decision to

join the House Quidditch team on hold and looked at the

letter he was writing. He was sitting in one of the squishy

arm chairs next to the fire place. A merry fire crackled

before him, its flames a mixture of yellows and reds that

danced around each other like a pair of star-crossed

lovers. Harry blamed his euphemism on Lisa's trashy

novels and absently wondered if the fire was charmed.

He reread the letter for errors and to make sure it

contained all of the legalese and details requires, his

calligraphy pen tapping a steady rhythm on the coffee

table. It was a letter to Andromeda Tonks, a very important

one that could help him exponentially in his goals, and the

wording needed to be just right so she would know exactly

what he wanted. After several rereads, Harry decided it

was perfect.

As if knowing his letter was finished, Hedwig came

swooping in through the window he had opened before

starting on the letter. She flew down and landed on the

coffee table next, her amber eyes going from him, to the

letter, then back to him.

"So impatient," Harry teased with a small grin. "I haven't

even sealed the letter yet and you're already demanding I

attach it for delivery."

Hedwig gave him an indignant hoot as her wings flapped

and her eyes bore into his.

"Yes, I did call for you," Harry agreed with a nod. "I just

didn't expect you to get here so fast. If you had been in the

owlery, it would have taken at least two minutes for you to

fly up here. It's almost like you've been waiting outside this

whole time." Which she had. Harry had heard the flapping

of wings while he wrote the letter and had been able to

feel her impatience the entire time he checked it over.

Hedwig barked at him, her feathers ruffling as she gave

him a glare worthy of Professor McGonagall.

"Don't look at me like that," Harry said, still grinning at his

owl. "You have got to be the most impatient bird I've ever

seen." Hedwig tried to bite his finger at that, but he moved

it out of the way and ran his fingers along the feathers at

the back of her head. "But don't worry, you're still the best,

most beautiful and most intelligent owl I know."