HPMM 126-140

Chapter 126

I decided than and there that next year I would bring ear plugs, or learn a silencing charm.

When everyone had finished, with the Weasley twins being the last having sang a slow, funeral song, Professor Dumbledore smiled and wiped his eyes.

"Ah, music, a magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

I stood up with the rest of the school and began following Percy with the other first years as we made our way to where we would be spending the next seven years. As I did though, my mind went back to what Dumbledore said about the third floor corridor. Something was there, hidden. Something dangerous. And I couldn't help but wonder what that something was, as well as why Dumbledore thought it was a good idea to hide whatever it was in a school full of children.

XoX

"So it's true then? You really did kill that troll?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably as Tracey looked at him in awe. He wasn't sure he liked the look she was giving him. He had come to terms with the fact that he had killed, had come to realize that what happened had been completely unavoidable, but that didn't mean he was comfortable with it. Still, he couldn't quite blame her for being amazed by what she perceived to be an incredible feat of magical prowess. She was not there, and she had not seen just how gruesome it had been.

"Yes," he said simply, hoping she would drop the subject. It was a false hope, he knew. Tracey was not the kind of girl to just let something like this go.

As if she trying to prove his point, Tracey let loose a loud groan of disappointment.

"Man, I can't believe I missed it!"

"Honestly," Harry looked over at the brunette, "I'm very glad

you and Blaise were not there." For multiple reasons, if he were honest. He didn't want anymore people being exposed to the grisly scene that had been the troll's head exploding like an overripe grapefruit.

The brown haired girl gave him a curious look. "Why not?"

"Because if you two had been there, then I would have had two more people to worry about."

The five who had been present during the troll incident flinched at the reminder. Harry closed his eyes, trying to stem the tide of guilt. Yes, his friends had been reckless, but he had been just as reckless, just as stupid. He could admit this. While he may have had a better chance at surviving an encounter with a troll than any other first year, it did not change the fact that he was still a first year.

"That troll was incredibly strong. It's hide was thick and had a lot of magical resistance. All but the most powerful of spells

would not have worked on it, and even if you two had been there to combine spells with the others, we only know up to the first year defense spells, none of which pack enough power to do more than annoy it."

That had been the main reason Harry had been at such a loss at what to do. Even when he had pumped as much power as possible into his spells they hadn't even grazed its flesh. He probably could have shot it in the eye, that might have worked, but that could have also exacerbated the problem. The last thing he wanted to deal with was an extremely powerful magical creature in an enraged berserker state.

"We managed to escape that night with our lives due to luck and nothing else," Harry stated confidently. "If another variable had been added, say, two more people to enrage the troll further, it's quite possible all of us would have died that night." He looked over at the now pale Tracey, his eyes unconsciously softening ever so slightly. "And if that had happened I would have never forgiven myself. You guys are my friends, and I don't want to see anything bad happen to you."

It was almost amazing how quickly his feelings for these seven came into being. Lisa had taken several months before his heart opened up to her, several months of following him around despite telling her to get lost, several months of talking to him like he was her best friend. Several months of him being a complete jerk and ignoring her. These seven had done in two months what had taken Lisa more than twice that length of time to accomplish.

Perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised. Unlike with Lisa, who he had patently ignored until he gave into her demands, he had actually tried to befriend his friends at Hogwarts from the very start. This time it had not been them who initiated the relationship, but him. And maybe, just maybe, that made all the difference. Spending so much time with these people, getting to know them, letting them into his life in ways not even Lisa could no matter how much he wished it could be otherwise. Was it any wonder he had come to like them so much?

"Ah." Blood rushed to Tracey's face, turning it the same color as a Weasley's hair. She looked away and mumbled a soft, "thank you," before trying to get back to work. Harry frowned, but

guessed he couldn't rightly blame her for her sudden shyness. She was probably just embarrassed.

He decided to save her from embarrassment and changed the subject.

"Has Daphne given any thought on joining us during these study sessions?"

Tracey shook her head, her shoulders slumping.

"No," she sighed, "I've asked her if she wanted to come several times, and each time she says no each time." She shook her head. "I even tried pointing out how much her grades could improve if she came with us. She might be consistently near the top, especially in Charms and Potions, but some of her other grades are nowhere near as good as they could be. Yet she still refused."

Harry frowned. He had hoped that Tracey would be able to convince her friend to come with her to at least one of these study sessions. It seemed the girl was adamant on being

obstinate. And, most unfortunately, Harry did not know what to do to gain her friendship.

"I suppose the only thing we can do is wait and hope." Harry paused, then cast Tracey a look. "And you won't tell me why she refuses to spend any time with us?"

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Chapter 127

Tracey shook her head.

"Can't."

"Won't," Harry corrected with a smile. "You could tell me if you truly wished to, but won't because you'd be betraying your friend, and I respect that. I don't know anything about Daphne, but it's clear she doesn't trust easily. That she trusts you obviously means you're very important to her. It would incredibly cold-hearted to betray her trust, and I

won't force you to do that."

"Thank you," Tracey murmured softly, her smile much smaller than the normal ones she gave. More heartfelt. Harry offered her one last smile, before turning his attention to Lisa, who asked him to look over her Transfiguration Essay.

Harry leaned over Lisa's shoulder and began to carefully read over her work. Her writing was very meticulous and neat. Very small too. Much like he had expected from anyone in Ravenclaw, she tried to cram as much information as possible with the amount of length given for each essay.

"There are a few errors in this. Firstly, you need to remember that the transformation in any Transfiguration is directly influenced by several factors. The weight of the item you are transfiguring. How many abnormalities its body has. The amount of power you place into your spell. How hard you concentrate on the spell. And a fifth unknown variable."

He paused, allowing himself a breath and Lisa a moment to scribble down the corrections in her essay.

"Think of it like this, you need to know how much an item weighs compared to what you want to turn it into, and whether or not this item has any disfigurations or imperfections that may effect your transformation. These two factors will directly effect the other two. If the item you are using weighs more than the item you're trying to transform it into, then you need to use less power and more concentration. By that same token, if the item you are using weighs less than the item you are trying to transform it into, you will need to use more power and less concentration."

"What do you mean concentrate less?" asked Lisa, frowning as she wrote a bit more. "I would think if you were using more power you'd want to concentrate on the transformation more."

"Most people would assume that. The thing about using

magic is that when you use a lot of it, it's very hard to control. Many people believe that means you need to concentrate on your spell more, but the truth of the matter is that focusing on your magic too much is like lighting a bottle of nitrogen on fire. Magic is a very chaotic form of energy, very volatile. And the more you use, the harder it is for you to control. Think of it as trying to contain water in a cup. Your magic would be the water, the cup is the spell, and your wand is the faucet that opens the gates for the water to flow and directs it into the cup."

"Only instead of water we're dealing with a highly unstable power that could blow up in our face if we're not careful," Lisa caught on quickly.

"Exactly," Harry said with a smile. "I think you believe that concentration is the same as imagery, that is to say, you believe that imagining what you're trying to transform your object into and the amount of detail you put into it is the concentration variable when it comes to Transfiguration, yes?"

He waited for Lisa to nod before continuing.

"Which is not actually true. The variable known as concentration only constitutes the amount of concentration you place on the spell itself, the transformation, not the image you are picturing in your mind when you focus on the transformation. The image you conjure in your mind is actually the fifth variable. The concentration is merely the amount of effort you are placing into the spell."

With a flick of his wrist, Harry summoned his wand. Another flick conjured a small red ball on the table in front of them.

"The best way I can think of it is will. How much of your will are you trying to enforce on the object you are transforming. In some cases, you may need to place more or less of your will, your focus, on the object. This is directly dependent on the weight."

A flick of his wrist and the ball became a baseball bat of about the same size. Another flick and it was back to a

ball, then broom, then a chair, all about the same size as the original ball.

"A bat, a broom, a chair, they all weigh more than a ball, even if they are the same size due to the materials they're made out of, so you need to focus less of your will on it. Magic generally has a will of its own, and it will change the weight of the object for you, therefore, you don't need to use as much of your own will to effect that change. You just need to add more power and gently coax the magic into doing what you want."

"But if the object weighs less I need to use less power and enforce more of my will on it," Lisa showed that she belonged in Ravenclaw by catching on very quickly. "Because I am not using as much magic, I need to enforce more of my will on it to direct it. In other words, concentration."

"Exactly!" Harry beamed at the girl, causing her to flush. "That... that makes a lot of sense." Lisa hurriedly turned

back to her essay to get her blush under control. She scribbled in her neat, tidy scrawl for several seconds, before turning to Harry with a thankful smile. "Thank you, that explanation is much better than the one my sister gave me when I tried asking for her help."

"Having family problems?" asked Harry, bemused.

"You don't know the half of it," Lisa groaned in response. "Ever since she found out I'm friends with you, she's been bugging me to introduce her to you."

"She's a seventh year, right?" asked Harry.

"Yes," Lisa huffed, "and she's really annoying. Always bothering me about something or other. Always complaining to our parents. I swear, sometimes it's like I'm the older sibling while she's the younger one."

"I think I understand how you feel, at least a little bit," Harry said sympathetically. "My muggle friend, Lisa Crawft, is older than me, but most of the time I feel like I'm

the older one. Of course, our age isn't that far apart. A few months at most."

"Trust me. You may think the situation is similar, but it's really not," Lisa declared adamantly. "Try imagining a seventeen year-old girl whining to you about how your friends with the Boy-Who-Lived while she's not. Or having her complain to your parents about how they bought you a skirt she's been wanting for ages, and then throwing a fit when she doesn't get it." She shook her head. "If she weren't so smart, I doubt she'd be in Ravenclaw."

Harry nodded absently.

"So your sister is interested in seeing me?"

"Obsessed is more like it," Lisa grumbled in complaint, "Every time I see her these days it's always 'I can't believe you're friends with the Boy-Who-Lived' or 'when are you going to introduce me to Harry Potter' or something equally annoying."

A small grin crossed Harry's face.

"Is that why you spend so much time with us?" he teased, "To avoid your sister?"

Lisa smiled and held up her left hand, spacing her thumb and forefinger barely a centimeter apart from each other.

"Maybe a little."

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Chapter 128

"I personally think you're lucky that the only problem you have with your sister is that she is annoying," Blaise commented almost absently as he scratched a few notes on his parchment. "My sister's a mental case. I swear, sometimes I really wonder about her."

"I didn't know you had a sister," Harry said with a frown.

"She's already graduated from Hogwarts," Blaise explained.

"Yeah, and now she's learning from his mum about how best to seduce a man," Tracey quipped glibly, earning her a small glare from her dark-skinned friend. The young brunette just responded with a dazzling smile.

"I do remember hearing something about that." Harry idly twirled his wand in his hand. "Not about your sister of course, but about your mum. Didn't she earn the nickname, the Black Widow in certain pureblood circles due to her marrying several men and all of them dying under mysterious circumstances."

Blaise shifted. Emotion finally played on his face. He shifted, clearly uncomfortable about where this conversation was going.

"Weren't we talking about Lisa's older sister?" he asked,

trying to redirect the subject.

"We were." Tracey nodded her head, the smile on her face still in place. "But then you mentioned your sister, so really, you only have yourself to blame. Besides, it's not like you really care what we say about her. You don't even like your sister anyway. You just admitted she's a mental case."

"It's not you talking about my sister that bother's me," Blaise mumbled just loud enough for Harry to hear. Perhaps it was time to change the subject.

Turning to Lisa, Harry asked, "so do you have anymore questions about Transfiguration?"

"I have one," Susan said. Harry turned to her and raised an eyebrow. The young redhead had been a bit more talkative since the troll incident. A bit more assertive. He wondered if it had something to do with her outburst the day after, but didn't think it mattered in the end. In his mind, this change could only be a good thing.

Nodding, he gave her the go ahead to continue.

"You mentioned a fifth unknown variable. Do you know what it is?"

Harry rubbed his chin for a second, pondering.

"The fifth variable is considered an unknown because the variable itself is always changing," he started with a small frown. "Professor McGonagall showed us the basic arithmetic equation that all Trasnfiguration uses. What she didn't mention was that the variable known as Z is actually another arithmetic formula that is subject to change based on many different factors."

Susan blinked.

"Oh."

"I wouldn't worry about the unknown variable right now," Harry said offhandedly. "We won't need to start worrying

about it until fourth of fifth year when we get into cross- species transfiguration."

"So how do you know about it?" Terry asked, frowning as Susan went back to work on writing her potions essay.

"Easy, I studied ahead."

Terry raised an eyebrow.

"Up to fourth year?"

"Nothing wrong with looking ahead to see what will be coming up later on."

Everyone looked at Harry for several more seconds before shaking their heads.

"How is that you're not in Ravenclaw again?" Hannah asked curiously.

"What I want to know is where you find the time to read so

far ahead," Tracey added. "In all the time Blaise and I have started studying with you guys, we've never seen you so much as pick up a book. Come to think of it," she tapped a forefinger to her chin and looked up at the ceiling, "I don't think I've ever seen you do your homework here either." She frowned. "You're always helping us."

"That's because Harry get's his homework done the same day we get it," Neville said. "He usually does it after class is finished and we've all gone to our respective common rooms. After that he reads."

Tracey gave Harry a deadpan look.

"So let me get this straight. You're on the Quidditch team as its new Seeker, the youngest in centuries I might add, you always finish your homework the day it's due, then you read for the rest of that time, and this is on top of the time you spend helping us with our work and classes." She shook her head. "Where do you find the time to do all this?"

Harry gave her a helpless shrug.

"I have a lot of energy."

Tracey gave him a pout, completely unsatisfied by the answer. He almost chuckled at the sight, and couldn't help but wonder if she actually wanted him to extrapolate. He doubted it. The female Slytherin was not really into theory. She was intelligent, but preferred practical application over theoretical knowledge.

"E-Excuse me."

Heads turned, Harry's included, toward the source of the new voice. He was not surprised to find Hermione Granger standing before him, looking incredibly nervous. In truth, he had been expecting her to speak with him for some time now. Several times during class, he would see the bushy-haired witch looking at him, worrying her thumb and looking like she wanted to say something. He wondered if she had been gathering her courage to speak with him.

"Can we help you, Miss Granger?" asked Harry. Hermione winced at the very formal means to address her, but didn't protest.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you, Harry?" Her eyes focused on his, then flickered to her left, away from him.

"I don't see why not." Harry stood up and gestured for the girl to follow. She did, trailing slightly behind him as his friends watched them leave.

They walked through several isles of books cases in silence. Hermione fidgeted beside him, sending occasional glances his way, then turning her head. When they reached a more secluded spot, Harry turned to her.

"So, what did you want to talk about."

"I-I wanted to apologize," Hermione stuttered out nervously. Harry raised an eyebrow. "I've been extremely rude to you when you've never done anything to earn my contempt. You always tried to be nice and help me, but I

kept turning you away and trying to upstage you in class. I'm sorry," she finished in a small voice.

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Chapter 129

"It's fine." Harry waved off her apology, causing the girl to look at him wide eyed. "Honestly, I'm not that surprised you acted like that. I get the feeling you're used to being at the top of your class."

Hermione blinked.

"Yes, that's right. How did you know?"

"You mean aside from that fact that you're always carrying a book around?" Harry asked dryly. Hermione had the good grace to blush. "It's just how you act. You're very studious. Every time we're in class you are the first one to

raise your hand and you always have the correct answer. You're also one of the first to get the spell we're working on right."

"Not recently I'm not," Hermione muttered.

"Yes, but that's just because other people have accepted my help and you didn't," Harry said, earning a surprised look from Hermione. She probably thought he hadn't heard her last comment. "I also get the feeling that the reason you try so hard to be the best is because you don't have a lot of friends." Hermione flinched. "I imagine you were picked on for your intelligence as a child. You were probably very lonely, and so you found solace in books and getting good grades. They were your sanctuary, a place where you could immerse yourself in knowledge and forget about the world, for a little while at least. Am I right?"

"I... yes," Hermione's eyes, which already showed surprise had gone almost impossibly wide during Harry's tirade. "How did you... how could you know that?"

Harry gave her a mysterious smile and tapped his temple with his middle and index finger.

"Elementary my dear."

Herimone blinked. Then blinked again. Then she gave another for good measure. Her expression soon shifted from stunned to amused. Her lips twitching in a small smile.

"Sherlock Holmes fan, I take it?"

"I am a fan of many stories," Harry informed her, "but yes, Sherlock Holmes is one of my favorites."

Harry paused, then smiled.

"In either event, thank you for the apology. I accept, and hope that you won't deny my help when I give it."

"I won't." Hermione determined, before her expression

shifted into one of shyness. "I also wanted to thank you for saving me from that troll the other day. Had you not found me, I..." she trailed off, shuddering as the realization of just how close she had come to death hit her.

"You're most welcome," Harry said solemnly.

An awkward silence ensued, for Hermione at least. The girl fidgeted, as if not sure whether to continue speaking or leave. Harry studied the girl intently as she looked down at her shoes, then back up at him, worrying her lower lip.

"Well," she started nervously, "well, I guess I should be leaving then..."

"Hermione," Harry said before she could turn around. The bushy-haired student looked at him, blinking. "Would you like to join my friends and I during our study sessions?"

Hermione blinked several times in rapid succession, as if her mind was trying to process what he meant. Then she gave him what had to be the most grateful smile he had

ever seen.

"I would like that," she said softly. XoX

Midnight arrived. The stars had come out, a sprinkling of tiny lights painted on a velvety black canvas overhead. Surrounded by the myriad of twinkling lights was the moon, whose beams of light shone through the many windows of the third floor corridor that Harry found himself walking through well after curfew.

Not that anyone could actually see him. He was currently invisible to the naked eye.

Though perhaps invisible was an overstatement. It wasn't as if he had actually become invisible, merely used the disillusionment charm to blend in with his surroundings. His body had taken on the exact color as the stone walls and floor, his form was nothing more than a slight distortion only the keenest of eyes could spot. To further

enhance the illusion of being invisible, as well as to make sure Ms. Norris couldn't sniff him out if she wandered near, he had added a scent deadening charm.

Truly, magic was a wonderful thing.

It had taken him a while to find the spells needed to sneak around Hogwarts undetected, and a little longer still to actually learn said spells. He'd been forced to put his Transfiguration studies on hold in order to learn them.

Harry moved through the corridor silently, his feet making little noise as he walked. He stopped in front of the very first door on the right. Something lay beyond this door. Harry could hear what sounded like heavy panting coming from the other side along with, growling and snuffling. It sounded like a dog, a very large dog. Or perhaps a really loud dog. What's more, the panting sounded like it was coming from more than one dog. Harry could make out three distinctly different pants, which he noticed due to how they were all slightly off rhythm with each other.

Creaking the door open just a smidgen, Harry carefully peaked inside. The creature standing in the center of the room was definitely a dog, though perhaps in its barest classification. It was large, easily ten times his size. Dark black fur covered its entire frame, blacker than the darkest of nights and blending in with the near pitch black darkness of the room. Paws almost as tall as Harry and with claws that looked like they could cut through steel were attached to powerful front and hind legs. A large tail hovered behind its back.

It also had three heads.

Cerberus. That was the name of the creature. Harry had never seen a Cerberus before, though he knew about them. It was said that they were the guardians of the Underworld, that all those trying to pass through Hade's realm would find themselves being viciously mauled and eaten by this creature.

So this was what Dumbledore had hidden up here. A Cerberus of all things.

Harry slowly closed the door before the creature could notice him and made his way back towards his dorm, silently contemplative. What could Dumbledore possibly be thinking in bringing such a powerful and dangerous creature to Hogwarts? Honestly, as if the troll hadn't been bad enough now there was a large three-headed dog hidden inside of the school!

Rubbing his chin in thought, Harry contemplated this. There had to be a reason for Dumbledore allowing a Cerberus into Hogwarts. And he would bet all the money in his vaults that the reason had something to do with the trap door the beast was standing over.

Now all he had to do was find out what was so important that Dumbledore felt the need to bring a three-headed dog into a school full of children.

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Chapter 130

We sat on the sofa, watching text roll down the screen as the opening theme to my favorite space opera blared in our ears.

"Hey, um, Harry?" Lisa asked, her voice soft, almost unnoticeable over the din of music.

"Yes, Lisa?"

Lisa fidgeted in her seat. "I wanted to thank you... for coming over, I mean." Fidget. Her cheeks began burning red. "It really means a lot to me."

I turned to look at her. Upon being caught under my gaze, Lisa flushed and looked away. How odd. Normally she's determined and vibrant to the point of being pushy, yet now she's acting shy. Weird.

I felt a smile crawl on my face, unbidden.

"You're welcome," I said softly, then looked away and added, "thank you for inviting me over. This was... fun."

Lisa looked surprised for a moment, before a smile broke out on her face.

"You're welcome," she whispered, turning back to watch the movie.

XoX

As November hit the whether became incredibly cold. Frigid. Ice seemed to hang in the air and invade the lungs, causing not only mist to rise from each blown out breath, but a sharp, minty coldness to seep into ones chest with each intake of breath. Windows fogged over, not even the warming charms that kept most of the castle at a mild temperature could get rid of it. Harry wondered if perhaps they had been designed that way on purpose to give the school an authentic Scottish winter look, but disregarded the theory soon after. The ground had become covered in

a thick sleet of frost. It wouldn't be long now before the snow started to fall.

The first Quidditch game was only a few days away, on a Saturday. After a little over a month of training, Harry would be playing in his first ever Quidditch match: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. It was a much anticipated game, perhaps more so than any other due to the animosity between the two houses. It could also have something to due with him being the youngest Seeker in the past century and the Boy-Who-Lived, but that was practically a given.

There was only one problem, Harry's broom hadn't come in. He had sent the message to Andromeda the day after he had earned his place as the Gryffindor Seeker, and had received a reply that she would do as he asked. Yet a month had gone by with no word from Andromeda. He was beginning to get worried. Oliver was also getting antsy, which made everyone else on the team paranoid. It was almost like a vicious circle.

A frown crossed Harry's face as continued his training. Despite how Oliver had forced them to do extra training to prepare them for their first game, it did not mean he had slacked off in his own physical training regime. 200 push- ups with his feet planted against the wall so that he was working at a 45-degree angle, followed by 200 normal push-ups, then 200 more with his hands placed in a triangle directly in front of his face. After that he would do some core work outs, followed by stretches, then shadow sparring.

That was probably the one downfall to being at a boarding school for magic for nine months, Harry reflected ruefully. Much as he loved it here, none of the witches or wizards knew anything about hand-to-hand combat, thus he had no sparring partners to practice with. Shadow sparring only got you so far, and Harry had no doubt that when he got back home Master Wei was going to rip him apart the first chance he got.

By the time he finished, Harry had worked up a decent sweat despite no longer being able to do his daily run.

Even though he knew the warming charm to keep him warm when outside, he knew no spell that cold get rid of the slippery sheet of ice that covered the ground. And he did not fancy falling on his rear end every time he tried to push himself to his limits during his runs.

Heading up to his common room, Harry took a nice, long shower, got himself dressed to start the day, then pulled out a book on dueling and began reading as he waited for his friends to wake up. He had actually advanced decently far in his spell work as far as offensive spells went. He didn't know many true, but those few spells he did know had become second nature to cast. He was currently working on silent casting, which for some reason was a lot harder for combat magic than it was for other spells.

Harry believed it had something to do with the spells effect and how you had to make non-verbal verbalized commands. Whenever Harry cast a spell for a charm or a transfiguration, he just had to picture the effect in his mind and his magic took care of the rest. Combat spells were executed much differently. Rather than picture the effect

you had to make the verbal commands nonverbal and time your magic and wand motions with the command. This was because picturing the effect happening would just take too long, there was simply to much to detail; the spell as it was launched, hitting your enemy, and what effect it had on your opponent. Not even a computer capable of processing data at light speeds would be capable making that a viable means for combat.

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Chapter 131

Which was why the caster had to non-verbalize verbal spells when dueling. It sounded easy in theory, but was intensely difficult in execution, requiring not only an incredible amount of mental discipline, but also a strong will and a lot of practice. Most adult witches and wizards couldn't cast non-verbal spells. So far, Harry only had one spell he could cast silently five out of five times, and that

was after two weeks of practice.

One of the many aspects of dueling Harry was interested in eventually mastering was spell-chaining. As the name of the technique stated, it was the act of chaining a set of spells together in such a way that the caster did not have to pause in between spells each time he cast. In order to chain two spells together it required the one casting the spells to cast a spell where the last wand motion of the first spell can flow into the second without the need for a pause in between. For example, one cannot chain the Expelliamus, the Disarming Charm, and the Stupify, a Stunning Charm, together, because both spells require the caster to point their wand at their target. On the other hand, the Disarming Charm can be combined with the Diffindo, the Cutting Curse, orthe Jelly-Legs Jinx, Locomotor Wibbly, because the wand movements are not only different, but can flow into each other seamlessly. A point, and then a slash.

Harry had yet to actually practice spell-chaining because he only knew six offensive spells, but he at least knew of

several ways to chain the spells together, and would begin practicing later on when he got more combative spells under his belt.

The sound of footsteps let him know that someone was coming into the common room. He flipped a page of his book as he listened to the footsteps. They were light, steady and in slightly off rhythm. Harry quickly discovered who was walking towards him.

"Good morning, Hermione," Harry greeted casually as he deliberately closed and shrunk the book before putting it away in his pocket.

The walking stopped, and Harry turned to see Hermione blinking at him.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked. Harry smiled.

"You have a very distinctive walk."

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms.

"That doesn't tell me anything."

"Of course it does," Harry stood up and stretched his arms above his head, the fabrics of his robes bunching around his shoulders. "You just haven't realized it yet."

Hermione's lips became a thin line and her brows furrowed. No doubt she was trying to puzzle out how Harry knew it was her form her walk. He wondered how long it would take her to figure out.

A few seconds later Neville walked down the stairway.

"Morning, you two," he gave his good morning as he walked up to them.

"Morning, Neville," Hermione replied absently, still trying to figure out how Harry could tell who she was just from her footsteps. Harry chuckled.

"Hullo, Nev."

The three made their way out of the Gryffindor Common Room and began walking down the many corridors towards the Great Hall, their feet making a dull thud against the stone floor. Several portraits greeted the trio, and Harry replied galely with a wave and a good morning. Neville shook his head, amused.

"Hey, Harry," he started, "I've been wondering this for a while now, but just what do you do so early in the morning? Surely you can't be reading the whole time?"

Harry smiled. He had wondered when someone would actually asked what he did in the mornings. Honesty though, he thought Hermione would be the one to ask him.

"You're right, I don't read the whole time," the raven haired boy admitted, "In fact, most of my time in the morning is spent exercising."

Neville's look turned curious.

"Exercising?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, "ever since I was six, I've been learning martial arts from my teacher, Master Wei, and in order to learn properly I need to be in peak physical condition."

"Martial Arts?" Neville asked, blinking.

"He means hand-to-hand combat," Hermione informed Neville, speaking up for the first time since Harry's comment about recognizing her via her footsteps. "It's a form of muggle fighting using fists and feet. Many people believe it to be the first form of fighting conceived by man as it did not require a weapon to learn."

Neville looked strangely at Hermione's dissertation, but eventually shrugged and looked back at Harry.

"So you exercise because of your muggle hand-to-hand fighting?"

"Partially." Harry rubbed the left side of his neck. "But I also do it because I like to keep in shape. A healthy body is essential to a healthy life. It's also a well founded theory that people who are healthier are generally happier and more self-assured. At least, that's what I've come to believe."

There was actually an entire scientific theory that had been proposed on why healthy people who exercised and played sports were happier than others. Physical exertion released endorphins, and endorphins made people feel good, made them happy. So people who exercised and played sports on a regular basis had endorphins released more regularly and were therefore happier people. He didn't mention this, as it would likely fly over Neville's head, and he didn't want Hermione to begin discussing theory with him, interesting as that would be.

Neville was silent for a moment, his look telling Harry that

the boy was pondering his words.

"Do you think..." he paused, "do you think it would be alright if I joined you while you exercise?"

"That would depend," Harry cast a glance over at Neville, "I get up awfully early. Do you think you would be willing to wake up to join me?"

"I might need some help with that," Neville admitted, blushing. Harry nodded. Neville was a heavy sleeper.

"Then so long as you are willing to put in the effort, I am willing to let you join me."

Neville smiled gratefully as they entered the Great Hall. Already a number of students were sitting down for breakfast. Harry could see Lisa, Terry, Hannah, and Susan sitting down at the Hufflepuff table already.

Another thing he noticed was that Professor Dumbledore was also sitting at the head table for breakfast. An odd

thing, since Dumbledore had never been seen during breakfasts before. Dinner, yes, occasionally, but never breakfast. Harry wondered why the man was here, but figured he would learn eventually, so he put it out of his mind.

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Chapter 132

He, along with Neville and a once again silent Hermione in tow, made their way to their friends.

"Did you hear how Harry killed that troll?"

"I heard he used a really powerful spell to blow it to pieces."

"Really? I heard he through it out of one of the second story windows."

Harry did not allow the conversations going on around him to bother him. They had been happening ever since he had killed that troll. The only thing he did do was take careful note to see which ones were continuing to look at him in fear. Thankfully, there were only a few left. Since there had been no perpetuation of violence on his part since the troll incident, most people had just decided that him killing a troll was some kind of noble act designed to protect the school. Harry had no intention of dissuading them of that illusion.

As he sat down, greeting his friends and receiving greetings in turn, Harry let his eyes drift to the Slytherin table. He immediately locked onto the form of the three individuals that he had befriended. He had been hoping to convince his Slytherin friends to sit with them at breakfast, lunch and dinner, but so far had not been able to bring the subject up.

The reason, of course, was due to how Daphne Greengrass still refused to have anything to do with him.

He wasn't sure why she was so adamant on keeping her distance, but it was very unfortunate, both because it hindered his plans and because he really did want his friends to sit with him.

Looking at the trio of Slytherins, Harry saw that they were being very quiet. Even the normally talkative Tracey was silent. He frowned. It was not hard to see the worried look on Tracey's face. Blaise was harder to read, but by now Harry could claim to have gotten a decent enough grasp on how the boy worked to tell he was unnerved by something as well. And it was not hard to figure out why.

Or more specifically, who. Daphne Greengrass was not looking like her usual self. The cold indifference was still there. Her icy chips of blue were the same as always. The difference came in her posture. Her shoulders and back, normally set perfectly straight were slumped. Harry even noticed the bags under her eyes. Hardly noticeable. He guessed she was covering them with make up, but Harry could easily tell the difference between now and the first time they had met. She looked tired.

He contemplated this new change. Had something happened to her recently? Was she under some kind of duress? Perhaps a family matter? Whatever it was, it must be a grave matter. The girl had an extraordinarily well- crafted mask. For something to be capable of putting a crack in it meant it had to be a monumentally stressful matter.

With nary a sound or outward sign of his thoughts, Harry did his best to put the matter out of his mind. Until Daphne or one of her friends came to him for help, there was nothing he could do. Forcing the issue would only exacerbate the problem.

Piling on some eggs and a few bagels, Harry began to focus on his food and the conversations going on between his friends. He found himself talking to Terry about his upcoming Quidditch match.

"Are you worried?"

"Not really," Harry shrugged and put a fork full of eggs into his mouth with a thoughtful expression. He swallowed, then looked at Terry. "Woods has been training us a lot, and we've gone over several plays. He's particularly focused on the Slytherin team, since they're well established as cheaters. A lot of what we've been focusing on recently are learning what kind of dirty tricks they'll attempt to pull. I don't think there's anything the Slytherin team can do that we haven't already covered."

"The Slytherin team has been known to cheat a lot," Terry allowed, "I've heard tell from some of the older years that that's the only reason they've won the Quidditch Cup several years in a row." He shook his head. "Personally I think it's a disgrace to Quidditch to cheat your way to victory. There's no sportsmanship in that."

"Tracey certainly agrees with that sentiment."

The two shared a bit of a chuckle over that. Tracey Davis' disgust with her own house team was well known to the friends. Several times already she had ranted about how

repulsed she was that her own house team was being ruined by a bunch of overgrown troll's. Personally, Harry just thought she was upset that the Slytherin Captain, Flint, didn't allow females on the team. She had complained many times about how sexist the Slytherin team was as well.

"Still, you're not worried at all?" asked Terry, getting his fifteen seconds of laughter under control, "you still haven't gotten a broom yet. Or have you?"

Harry grimaced.

"No, I still don't have a broom." He ran a hand through his hair. A nervous gesture. "To be honest, I would have thought that problem would have been solved by now, but I guess there are more problems than I thought."

"What were you trying to do?" the question came from Susan, who was sitting on his left. She looked at him curiously, her head tilted to the side.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but didn't get the chance. A light sound, magnified by the acoustics of the hall and most likely some kind of sound amplifying spell, sounded throughout the room. Everyone turned to Professor Dumbledore, who was tapping his spoon on a goblet.

Professor Dumbledore stood up and smiled at the crowd of curious students that were obviously wondering why he was here, and why he had just interrupted breakfast.

"Good morning to you all. I hope you have been enjoying your time here at Hogwarts. I do not normally do this, but as the situation has just come up last night, I have an important announcement to make, one that I think many of you will be elated to hear."

There was a twinkle of amusement in Dumbledore's eyes as he spoke.

"Before we begin, I would like to thank Mister Potter for his efforts on this. Without him, none of what I have to say

would have been possible."

Harry blinked as all eyes turned towards him, his friends included. He wasn't aware of having done anything that would warrant such a commendation, unless...

Harry's eyes widened in realization just as Dumbledore continued, "thanks to his efforts Nimbus Racing Broom company has decided to donate twenty-eight brand new Nimbus 2000's to our school for our four Quidditch teams to use."

There was a moment of shocked silence. All eyes had gone wide as they stared at the raven haired boy. Harry shifted a bit under the stares, wondering if perhaps he had gone too far this time. Maybe he should have done something a bit more discreet.

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Chapter 133

Then the applause began. It started with Dumbledore clapping most enthusiastically, a large smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. Harry wondered if the old man knew what he was trying to do and helped him along by making the announcement himself. Soon, more and more people began to clap. Students started standing up, cheering loudly. Even the older Slytherin students were cheering. Harry saw and heard the Weasley twins whistling over at the Gryffindor table. Tracey Davis was looking at him with a kind of worshipful glance that honestly had him disturbed.

There were a few people here and there who were not cheering for him. He could see looks of jealousy from a few people at various tables. Draco and his ilk, the pug faced Pansy and other Death Eater children were giving him hateful glances, and Daphne Greengrass was frowning at him.

A small amount of tension in his shoulders faded as he

realized his gamble had paid off. He now had a broom to use, and no one could say anything about him getting preferential treatment because everyone else had the same broom he did. The plan had actually gone off even better than expected thanks to Dumbledore.

He frowned again. How had Dumbledore known about this when he had not received a reply from Andromeda? That was something he wanted to know.

Perhaps Andromeda had wanted to surprise him? He knew the woman had a bit of a mischievous streak that did not show very often hidden behind that professional demeanor. It did sound like something she would do, though it wasn't quite the kind of subtle act he would have expected from her. And she did know of his plan. Maybe she had contacted Dumbledore so he could make the announcement? He decided to ask Andromeda when he went home for Christmas. For now he would simply be thankful everything had turned out for the best.

"I'VE FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT!"

Silence descended upon the hall almost as quickly as it came. Everyone stared at Hermione Granger, who had suddenly jumped to her feat, a look of triumph on her face. The girl flushed as she realized she had just shouted out loud and, after quickly mumbling out an embarrassed apology, sat back down and almost shrunk into her robes like some kind of turtle.

Hannah, Lisa, Neville, Susan, and Terry all looked at each other, confused.

"Figured... what out?" Hannah asked cautiously, looking at the bushy haired girl like she had gone insane. Hermione just blushed some more and tried to hide further in her robes.

As the others looked at the girl in confusion, Harry hid his laughter by snorting into his goblet.

XoX

"I can't believe you actually managed to buy everyone Nimbus 2000's," Angelina shook her head as she and the rest of the Gryffindor team sat in the locker rooms getting ready for their first game against Slytherin. Sitting by her side was Alicia on her left, and a grinning Katie on her right. The latter had the broom in her lap, the former was actually stroking the broom like it was some kind of cat. Harry found the sight disturbing, but at least it was better than seeing how Ms. Figg treated all of her cats.

"Oh, you'd better believe it," George said with a grin, tossing an arm over Harry's shoulder.

"Harry Potter does not do things halfway," added Fred, repeating the gesture on Harry's left.

"Yes indeed. It's all or nothing with this lad."

"In his mind, there is no such thing as overboard."

"Yes, even overkill is a word that has no meaning in his vocabulary."

"I am surprised," Harry interrupted in a dry voice, "that you even know what the word vocabulary means."

Alicia, Angelina and Katie snickered, while Fred and George gave him mock offended looks.

"Oi! I will have you know that Gred and I are the very definition of sophistication and snobbery."

"Indeed, Forge and myself are so sophistimacated that our vocabularium supersedes that of everyone else's."

"Too right. We're blokes of higher edumication."

"And you can't tell us otherwise," they finished together, much to the amusement of those in the room. Well, those whose name wasn't Oliver Wood, who did not look very happy.

"What I want to know," the surly captain began with a brooding glare, "is why you decided to buy all of the other

teams Nimbus 2000's as well."

"First of all, I didn't buy the brooms," Harry gave Oliver a blank stare until the older boy became uncomfortable, "In fact, I didn't pay a single knut for these brooms. I merely... convinced Nimbus Broom Racing Company that it would be in their best interest to donate the brooms to the school in order to promote their products."

"How did you do that?" Katie asked curiously. Harry tilted his head.

"I'm not exactly sure I understand the question. Could you clarify?"

"I mean, how did you convince the Nimbus Broom Company to give twenty-eight Nimbus 2000's away for free."

A mysterious smile graced Harry's lips.

"Ah, but I never did say they were free, did I? I just said that I didn't have to pay for them." Katie frowned. "As to the how, let's just say there are many more ways to get what you want than simply tossing a bucket full of galleons around and leave it at that."

Not wanting to go into details about how he, or more specifically Andromeda, had managed to convince Nimbus Broom Racing Company to donate twenty-eight brooms on his behalf, Harry turned back to Oliver.

"As to your second question, I believe that answer should be obvious. It was to level the playing field. When we win, I don't want people to say it was because we had better brooms than everyone else, I want them to know that we won because we are more skilled, more talented, and just plain better than they are."

Harry had always possessed a strong sense of fair play when it came to sports. To him, it should be the skill of the players that won the day, not the superior equipment they possessed. One of the things that had always disgusted

him about professional sports in the muggle world was how many athletes took steroids and other enhancement drugs to improve their performance. That same situation applied here, albeit, in a different manner. Instead of drugs people had superior brooms.

It was also a matter of pride for him. Harry liked to be the best. He enjoyed proving to himself that he was the best. In his mind, he couldn't be the best if his side had an unfair advantage. By leveling the playing field, he was ensuring that no side was disadvantaged in any way. Victory would be determined by the skills of the players, not their brooms.

"Well," Oliver still looked a bit surely, but seemed somewhat mollified, "I suppose that makes sense."

"You know, you're awfully noble for a first-year," Katie said with a smile.

Harry tilted his head to side in an endearing gesture of idle curiosity.

"You think so?"

"I know so," Katie nodded, "I don't think anyone else has ever thought about how unfair it is that some people have better brooms than others."

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Chapter 134

"I guess." Harry shrugged. He didn't think he was particularly noble. Harry was doing this for his own selfish reasons. It just so happened that those reasons benefited everyone else as a side effect and not just him.

"Alright, enough of this," Oliver said, fed up with all this talk that had nothing to do with the coming game. "This is the first game of the season and we're up against Slytherin. We need to win, we're going to win," he gave

them all a stern glare, as if doing so would motivate them to do their best, "This is the best team we've had in years. I know we can win this."

"Don't you worry, Ollie," Fred said cheerfully.

"Yeah, we've got this in the bag," George added.

"How could we possibly lose. We've got new brooms."

"We've got a new kick arse Seeker."

"Our victory is at hand!"

Oliver stared at them, the maniacal gleam in his eyes shining like a beacon. It was almost terrifying.

"Right. Good luck everyone."

They all stood up and made their way onto the pitch. Harry walked behind Fred as the slightly cramped locker opened up into the wide Quidditch Pitch. The stadium was abuzz

with noise, the stands packed with students sitting in them, squashed together like a can of sardines. It looked like the entirety of Hogwarts had come to see this game.

Harry's eyes zoomed in on one spot in particular. There, fluttering in the breeze was a large banner that said 'Potter for the Win!' and would flash colors, changing from red and gold to silver and blue to black and yellow then green and silver, every five seconds. Harry smiled when he realized his friends must have charmed that for him. It felt nice to know people were supporting him.

In the middle of the pitch was Madam Hooch wearing the black and white robes of a referee. The Slytherin team was already on the pitch, carrying their brand new Nimbus 2000s. Harry almost laughed when he saw several eyes travel to him, confusion warring on their faces. It was amusing to see their reactions, though he hoped it would further help breech the gap that divided Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Standing right next to Madam Hooch was the Slytherin

Captain, an ugly looking sixth year by the name Marcus Flint. He was big and gangly and his body looked disproportion to his head. His facial features were distorted, with his mouth being bigger than everything else and his teeth being exceptionally large. The boy looked like someone had tried to crossbreed a human with a troll.

Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team made their way to the center of the field. With everyone now around her, Madam Hooch gave a nod.

"Now I want a nice, clean game, all of you," Madam Hooch looked at them all with a stern expression, made all the sharper by her Hawk-like eyes. Harry noticed that her gaze lingered on Flint's longer than anyone else. It merely served to confirm what everyone said about the Slytherin team cheating. "Now, mount your brooms."

Harry mounted his broom, smiling as he felt the familiar thrill of adrenaline that came whenever he was in competition.

Madam Hooch brought the whistle to her mouth and gave it a hard blow, the small silver device emitting a fierce noise that belied it's tiny size.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Harry had to withhold a smile at Lee Jordan's commentary, as well as Professor McGonagall's outburst. If this was how he was for all of the games, these matches would prove to be very interesting.

Everyone had quickly gone to their positions. Adrian Pucey had the Quaffle and was being guarded on either

side by Marcus Flint and Graham Montague. The three Chasers from his team, Alicia, Angelina, and Katie were all trying to find break through their play to get the Quaffle. Several meters away Fred and George were smacking the Bludgers toward the trio of Slytherin Chasers, but their efforts were stymied by Slytherin's own Beaters. High above them all, Terrence Higgs, Slytherin's Seeker, searched for the Snitch.

Harry ignored Terrence and drove towards Adrian, pushing to his top speed within a few seconds.

For a moment, Harry reveled in the feeling of being in the air, the wind as it whipped about his face, the way the broom seemed to respond to his slightest touch, as if it knew exactly what he wanted it to do before he did it. This feeling, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The joy he felt flying on those school brooms paled comparison to what he felt now.

Then the moment was over. Adrian threw the Quaffle towards Marcus, and Harry twitched his broom in this new

direction.

Before Flint even had a clue on what was happening, Harry was there, diving right by him. With a sharp twist, the broom under his legs flipped end over end. His left leg extended outwards as his body and broom corkscrewed through the hair. A grin crossed his face as his foot connected with the Quaffle, not only launching it out of Marcus' path, but into Katie's.

"UNBELIEVABLE!" Came the shout from Lee Jordan. "Harry Potter pulls of a miraculous stunt worthy of the professional leagues and breaks up the Slytherin's play! It looks like Wood made a great move when he placed Potter on the team!"

Flint glared at Harry with a look of absolute loathing. He tried to knock the boy off his broom, but by that time Harry was already moving away.

"Katie has the Quaffle. Passes it to Angeline who passes it to Alicia. Marcus is closing in, boy does he look mad. And

once again he's blocked by Potter! Alicia's going in for the shot—no! She passes it back to Katie who tosses it in and scores! A fabulous play by Potter and the Flying Foxes!"

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Chapter 135

"Flying Foxes?" Professor McGonagall's dry voice comes out sounding confused.

"Of course, foxes because of how damn foxy they are, and how lovely their backsides look on a broom."

"Enough of this, Jordan! Either you cease this irresponsible commentary or so help me I will see you out of this box this instant!"

"... Sorry Professor."

Harry's eyes constantly scanned the pitch, even as he gestured to Fred and George. The Slytherin's were making another play. It looked like Higgs was even trying to get in on it in order to help, but was rebuffed by Flint.

As the angry Terrence Higgs flew up high again, the three Slytherin Chasers tried to maneuver themselves around each other to present a difficult target. The Beaters were on either side, prepared to defend the trio, while Gryffindor's own trio split up to wait for a moment of opportunity.

That moment came when Harry dove at the nearest Slytherin Beater. Fred followed behind him, prepping for a shot while George harrassed Higgs to keep him occupied. The Slytherin boy's eyes widened as Harry played a game of chicken. At the last second Harry pulled up while the Slytherin Beater pulled down, not only allowing Harry to pass but also running face first into a Bludger that came from Fred. The Beater almost fell off his broom and was forced to hold his stomach tightly from the pain. The youngest of the Gryffindor team sped straight through the

center of the Slytherin formation.

"And it looks like another brilliant interference from Potter! These Slytherin's really need to step up their game if they want to get anywhere! Montague drops the Quaffle, which is picked up by Alicia. She's driving towards the goal posts. Angelina and Potter are playing interference. Alicia passes to Katie who fakes and—score another point for Gryffindor! It's twenty Gryffindor! Zilch Slytherin! That's showing those dirty snakes whose boss!"

"LEE JORDAN!"

The game continued to progress. Harry would help the Chasers while keeping his eyes open for the Snitch. He would occasionally team up with Fred and George, either to harass Higgs or the Slytherin Chasers. Play after play was made with the Gryffindor team slowly rapidly gaining points. They made sure to keep the Slytherin team off guard as much as possible, leaving them no time to react.

Unfortunately, they couldn't keep ahead of the game

forever. Eventually the other team began to wise up.

Harry moved in, once more flying interference so Katie or Angelina could get the ball. He closed in on the Slytherin Chasers, who flew in a tight arrow formation. Before he could properly interrupt the play, his instincts screamed at him to move. Not one to ignore such a blatant warning, he did, and just narrowly dodged the Bludger that came close to colliding with his back.

For a moment, he thought that was the last of the problems, but then another Bludger came screaming at him from the front, and Harry was forced to corkscrew out of the way.

He yanked on his broom, hurtling himself above the Bludgers as Fred and George moved in to intercept. With his ability to interfere with the play broken, the Slytherin Chasers, led by Marcus Flint made it to the goal posts guarded by Oliver Wood.

"Flint passes to Pucey, who passes to Montague and back

to Flint. The shots lined up and—blocked! Oliver Wood has blocked the shot! Alicia has the Quaffle. She passes to Angelina. Angelina fakes a pass back to Alicia, then passes to Katie. Katie's moving in towards the goal and—what kind of foul move is that! Marcis Flint rams into Katie Bell and almost knocks her off her broom! What the hell are you think you foul, loathsome Snake!"

"JORDAN!"

"I'm not sorry Professor! He deserves to be called worse!"

Things continued to even out. With the Slytherin team resorting to cheating to keep up with the Gryffindor team. Marcus Flint got a blatching foul called on him when he tried to knock Angelina off her broom. Adrian Pucey was called on account of flacking, the Beaters each got a call on cobbing, Graham Montague got three fouls for blurting, and Slytherin's keeper got seven fouls for flacking. The Gryffindor team got many penalty shots due to the other teams excessive cheating, and made sure each one counted.

Despite the use of fouling to get even, the Slytherin team continued to have a tough time of actually scoring. Harry, Fred and George, when not keeping Terrence Higgs busy, did their best to team up with the Chasers and keep the Slytherins from scoring. When Flint and the others did make it past the group, they had to contend with Oliver, who took each shot fired at him as a personal insult and did his best to keep the Quaffle out of his goals. Very few shots ever made it through his guard.

By this point Harry felt pretty good about their chances to win. They were ahead by 100 points, and despite Slytherin scoring a few goals, Gryffindor climbed steadily ahead. If the opposition wanted to have any hope of winning, they would need to find the Snitch quickly.

Which was why Harry decided it was time to end the game on his terms.

He flew high into the air to scan the surrounding pitch. The Snitch had chosen a great place to hide as he had not

seen it appear at all since the game started. Higgs hadn't had much luck either, though that may have had something to do with how the Weasley twins kept him occupied when not helping Harry.

A quick glance around the pitch showed him that the Snitch still had yet to show up. He wondered where it could have hidden itself. There weren't a lot of places. The goal posts, behind the stands, and possibly inside of the stands. Perhaps that's where it was. Harry pondered whether he should check the stands out or wait for the Snitch to appear.

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Chapter 136

And that's when it happened. His broom gave a violent lurch, forcing Harry to keep a firm grip with both hands. It shuddered, then stopped.

Harry frowned. What was that? He had never heard of a broom doing that before. Even the school brooms hadn't done anything like this. And this was not just any broom, but a brand new Nimbus 2000. There was simply no way it could be any kind of malfunction. Perhaps a small mistake in the manufacturing process then?

The broom jerked to the left and all thoughts left Harry's mind as he quickly locked his arms in place. His Nimbus jerked to the right, then up, then down. Back and forth, left and right, up and down, the broom began to buck and shudder and kick like a bull at a rodeo, and all Harry could do was hang on for dear life.

"I say! What the blood hell is wrong with Harry's broom?!" "LEE JOR—oh my!"

XoX

"What's going on with Harry's broom!?"

Tracey Davis was scared sick. And to think, the day had been going so well, too. It was the first match of the season. All of the teams had new brooms, and her newest and, quite possibly, coolest friend, Harry Potter, was making his debut entrance as Gryffindors star Seeker. Better still, she had managed to finally drag her friend Daphne with her to sit with the others. The blond had not been pleased, but considering it was either sit alone in the common room or sit with Malfoy and his ilk, she had not had much of a choice in the matter.

One might wonder why Tracey was not supporting her House when they were faced off against their most bitter rivals. The reasons were quite simple. Tracey hated her Quidditch team, bunch of sexist jerks that they were, and liked Harry Potter, who had not only befriended her despite their houses being bitter rivals, but supported her. It was only right she support him.

The game had been going so well in her mind. Harry had proven himself to be an incredible Seeker, not just trying

to find the Snitch, but actually helping break up plays and work with the Chasers and Beaters so well that the Slytherin team had been caught completely off guard. Even with them resorting to dirty cheating the Gryffindor team remained strong and ahead of the game.

Now it looked like all that was about to fall apart as Harry Potter was forced to hang on his broom for dear life as it did it's utmost to toss him off.

All around her everyone else was pointing and whispering at Harry as he clung to the broom like a leech, his teeth grit. Gasps were heard as each jerk threatened to unseat the boy.

Sitting on all sides of her, Harry's other friends were anxious with worry. Susan and Lisa covered their mouths with their hands, eyes wide. Hannah looked pale and frightened. She was actually beginning to shake. Both Neville and Hermione almost looked sick with worry, with the bushy haired witch gnawing at her thumb like she was trying to chew it off. Tracey could see Terry narrowing his

eyes and furrowing his brow. She wondered what he was thinking. And even Blaise seemed to be worried, though the only way she could tell was because his left foot had begun incessantly tapping the floorboard beneath them like a humming birds wings.

"His broom his cursed."

Eight sets of eyes turned to look at Daphne. The golden- haired blond worred her lower lip. Tracey didn't know if the girl was worried or simply thinking. Even she, Daphne's best friend since childhood, sometimes had a hard time reading the pureblood.

"What do you mean his broom is cursed!?" asked Hermione, almost shrieking with worry. Tracey winced. She didn't dislike the girl, but sometimes that voice of hers was just too much.

"It means exactly what I said," Daphne rolled her eyes, "someone is cursing his broom."

"But who would do such a thing?" asked Susan, her eyes impossibly wide and scared. Tracey wondered the same thing. Harry was a pretty likable bloke. Why would anyone want to curse his broom? Unless they were jealous, which was a distinct possibility. But then, the only person who would have had the gall to do something so stupid was that git, Draco Malfoy, and he simply wasn't smart enough to curse a broom.

"I don't know!" Daphne snapped. "In order to curse a broom, not only do you have to be incredibly skilled at dark magic, you also have to maintain eye contact for the spell to work. No one here should be capable of such a feat except for a... a..."

Tracey became worried as her friend trailed off and the blond's eyes widened slightly. It was almost imperceptible, but she had known Daphne for a long time, and could pick up some of the more obvious nuances in the girl. She was surprised. That scared Tracey more than she cared to admit.

"Daphne?"

"A teacher," her friend murmured, her eyes going up to the teacher's viewing booth.

Tracey's eyes widened. Daphne couldn't be serious? A teacher cursing a students broom? A teacher cursing Harry frickin' Potter's broom? The very thought was absurd. No teacher would be stupid enough to commit political suicide like that. Would they?

"How could you possibly think that?" asked Hermione, appalled, like the very thought that a teacher would willing try to harm or kill a student was an impossibility. "There is no way a teacher would possibly curse a student's broom, it's, it's against the rules!"

Again, Daphne rolled her eyes.

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Chapter 137

"Think whatever you want, Granger. I'm simply going to inform you that you're wrong."

Hermione huffed, arms crossing over her chest. She looked like she was about to retort.

"It's Snape!"

The gasp came from Hannah. Tracey turned to look at twin-tailed girl with a frown on her pretty face.

"Now look," she started, a bit peeved that this girl was accusing her head of house, "Just because Professor Snape was a bit of a jerk to Harry during our first class, doesn't mean he's responsible for trying to kill him."

"No," Blaise swallowed, eyes pointed the same place Hannah's had been, "he is responsible."

"What?"

Tracey whipped her head around to look at Blaise. Both he and Daphne were staring at the Teacher's viewing booth. Her head snapped towards the booth so quickly she was surprised she didn't hear a snap. There, her eyes scanned the booth and found Professor Snape. A Professor Snape maintaining complete eye contact with Harry Potter's broom. A Professor Snape who was muttering what looked like some kind of incantation under his breath. Tracey paled.

"Crap, it is Professor Snape doing this." She looked at the rest of her friends. Most of them were pale, except Susan who was red-faced and glaring in Professor Snape's direction. Tracey was not only shocked to see the sweet girl actually glaring at anything. The brunette honestly believed she didn't have it in her. "What do we do?"

"We need to get Professor Snape to break eye contact." Hermione stood up. Were the situation not so grave, Tracey would have laughed at how the girl was still calling

Snape professor when he was trying to kill her friend. "I can do that, but I'll need someone to come with me just in case."

"I'll go," Blaise said, also standing up. Hermione gave him a nod and the two quickly set off.

Tracey found herself sitting in between Daphne and Susan, the redhead gripping her and she gripping Daphne's as the two snuck off. She craned her neck to look back up at Harry's, whose broom was still trying to throw him off.

She really, really, hoped that Hermione and Blaise broke Snape's spell soon or there might not be any Harry left to save.

XoX

This, Harry decided, was not a good situation. His broom was cursed to try and kill him, and he was currently being forced to old on for dear life as it bucked and jerked and

spasmed all over the air. Below him, Fred and George Weasley had actually stopped taunting the Slytherin's in order to hang under him in case he should fall. A few times one of them would try to get to him so he could jump on their broom, but then his broomstick would just take him out of their reach, or begin bucking more wildly.

Surprisingly, a few of on the Slytherin team actually looked worried as they gazed at him. At least he could not be sure that they were not involved, and that they were beginning to like him. Well, except for Flint, who hated him simply because he was better. But, eh, you can't win them all.

Harry growled in frustration as he channeled magic through his hands, forcing them to stick to the brooms handle. He could feel the foreign magic invading his broom. Magic that did not belong to him or the broom. What made it that much worse was that there was nothing he could do to stop whoever was cursing his broom. Unfortunately, he did not have any knowledge of counter- curses.

Once again, Harry had to curse himself for his shortsightedness. When he began looking up offensive magic, all he had focused on were the offensive spells. Now he was suffering for his lack of forethought.

Another wild jerk had him unseated from his broom. Loud screams came from the crowd of onlookers as Harry found himself hanging off his Nimbus' handle by his hands. His lips peeled back in a snarl. He hoped whoever was trying to kill him had health insurance, because they were going to suffer when he got through with them.

The broom stopped bucking. The act was so sudden that Harry had to blink in confusion. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught fire in the teacher's booth. Snape's robes were on fire to be exact. He blinked again, then saw Hermione and Blaise crawling back down to the stands from in between the small gaps in the viewing booth. He smiled. It was good to have friends willing to look out for him.

Hands firmly on his broom, Harry used the impressive strength in his arms to twist himself up in a spin worthy of an Olympic athlete using the horizontal bar. He twisted his body ninety degrees, and landed firmly back on the cushioning charms of his broom. Then he was off.

"It looks like Potter's back on his broom. What the bloody hell happened to it, I wonder?"

Looks like Professor McGonagall was too shocked to comment on Lee's commentary, Harry mused.

He drove towards the ground, where he could see a small glint of gold hovering in the air. Terrence had seen it to, for he was dive bombing towards it as quickly as he could. Harry urged his broom faster, coaxing every bit of speed he could from the newest and fastest broom on the market. He and Higgs were on opposite sides, each closing the distance fast.

The Snitch must have realized it was being chased, for it quickly darted away. Harry nudged the broom towards it,

and he and Higgs from themselves side by side.

The much larger boy tried to ram Harry out of the way, using his body weight to knock the raven haired boy off course. It would have worked, had he actually hit Harry. The youngest of the Quidditch players twisted his broom up, barreled rolled over the boy's head, and landed on Higgs' left. They were still neck and neck, but the small stunt had cost Higgs some speed while Harry had lost none. And that was all the lead Harry needed to win.

He shot forward, his hand flashing out with enough speed that his hand almost blurred. His fingers curled around the snitch as he made a fist. With a grin, he brought his hand up above his head and showed his catch to the crowd.

"Harry Potter's got the Snitch! Gryffindor wins two hundred and fifty to eighty! That's the way it should be! Show those slimey, ill begotten, filthy, loathsome –"

"LEE JORDAN!"

"... Sorry Professor."

XoX

After winning the first game of the season, Harry had set down and found himself engulfed by his team. Angelina and Alicia gave him a kiss on the cheek, Katie had hugged him tightly and told him he was the most amazing flier she had ever seen, Fred and George had laughed and joked and congratulated him on 'kicking arse and taking names' as the muggle saying went, and Oliver had cried. Cried tears of manly pride at their victory.

That had been all kinds of disturbing.

Then the crowd had come. Not just students from his House, but from a number of Houses. They had surged forward and Harry had found himself being hoisted into the air as peopled laughed and cheered in congratulations. The jubilation had lasted until the Gryffindor team managed to escape the crowd and get into the locker rooms where they could take a shower and

put on some clean clothes before heading back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

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Chapter 138

By the time they had actually arrived at the tower, the party had been in full swing. It looked like the rest of the House had been waiting for them. The seven players had entered the common room to once more be overcome by raucous applause. A few of the students who knew where the kitchens were had managed to procure food, and Lee Jordan had even managed to get some butterbeer, though how he had done so when there was no butterbeer at Hogwarts, Harry didn't know.

He suspected it had something to do with the Weasley twins when he saw them passing Lee some money.

Out of the seven players, Harry had gotten the most attention. This he had expected. It was partly to do with being the Boy-Who-Lived, but mostly because he was not only the Seeker, often times considered the most prestigious position on the Quidditch team, but also the youngest one in the century and had just won them the first game of the year. That it was against Slytherin, who despite his best efforts was still considered their most bitter rival, was only the icing on the cake.

He took their congratulations with a smile and humility that he had most decidedly not shown during the actual game itself. He spoke with Seamus and Dean, both of whom had been psyched that they had won their first game and even more that it was because of him. Then Dean had made a comment about football and the two got into an argument about whether or not Quidditch was better. Harry had let them argue and moved around to mingle with the rest of the students. He had spoken with Fay Dunbar a bit, who had just blushed bright red when he talked to her. Then moved on to Parvati and Lavender. They had just giggled at him so he moved on quickly.

He and Hermione had spoken some, but the girl seemed preoccupied while they spoke, as if she were struggling with something. Harry was tempted to ask her what was wrong, and if it had anything to do with her setting Snape's robes on fire, but decided now was not the time. She had congratulated him and then moved off to sit on the crouch, where she would remain until bed.

Harry mostly spoke with Neville and his team, joking, laughing, and sharing tales of their exploits to a crowd even though everyone already knew what had happened during the game. The round-faced boy had been incredibly excited that they had won. While Neville was no Quidditch fanatic like Tracey, that did not mean he didn't enjoy the sport. It was even better when they won because of his friend.

The party had gone perfectly. Well, almost perfectly. If he could just get the older girls to stop pinching his cheeks it would be perfect.

Of course, if something is perfect, or as close to perfect as something could get, it was almost a sure thing that someone would come along the ruin it.

That someone, in this instance, just so happened to be none other than Cormac McGlaggen. The burly second year had not been partying with everyone else, and instead he chosen to sit on one of the plush chairs and glare at Harry from his spot. Most everyone had ignored him for the most part, Harry included, but it seemed the boy had finally had enough after Harry received a kiss on the cheek from a madly blushing Katie Bell. With a scowl, the second year student stood up and stomped his way over to Harry.

"I bet you think you're so great, don't you Potter," McGlaggen gave an almost Snape worthy sneer that, unfortunately for him, did not work on his face because he was still a child, and instead of being frightening or the like, merely looked comical. The common room had grown silent as he glared at Harry, who merely raised an eyebrow. "I bet you think you're so clever, buying your way

on the team with those new brooms."

Harry tilted his head to the side, then closed his eyes.

"What are you on about now, McGlaggen," he opened his killing curse green eyes and stared at McGlaggen with a blank look that had the boy shifting uncomfortably. Surprisingly, the second year did not back down. "You know as well as I that I made the team after I beat you at try-outs. The brooms came in long after I made Seeker."

"I bet that's just what you want us to think," McGlaggen's sneer was back in place, "I bet you made a secret deal with Wood before try-outs to buy your way onto the team. You may have everyone else fooled, but not me. I know the truth."

"The truth," Harry murmured thoughtfully, "You, Cormac McGlaggen, are an idiot."

McGlaggen's eyes widened as several gasps came from those watching. Off to the side, Harry could see the

Gryffindor team glaring almost hatefully at Cormac. Neville was looking a bit worried and Hermione was biting her lip. Oliver was glaring at McGlaggen with a particularly scornful look.

"What?" asked McGlaggen, as if he had not heard what Harry said.

"Do you need me to repeat myself for you?" Harry gave the boy a mocking smile, "very well, McGlaggen, you are very stupid."

McGlaggen's gaping turned into an ineffective glare.

"How dare you!"

"If you had any brains in that empty head of yours, you would have realized that I could not have possibly bought my way onto the team. Oliver would have never agreed to let me get brooms for all four Hogwarts House teams." Harry shook his head. "You really should learn to face the facts, Cormac, I am simply more skilled on a broom than

you are."

It wasn't his most intelligent move ever. Mocking someone. Normally, he would have never done such a thing as it would most definitely alienate whoever he was taunting and ensured that he could never gain them as an ally. He didn't particular care about that right now. Cormac McGlaggen was a bully and a braggart, someone who was more than willing to put down others if it made him feel better. And if there was one thing on this good green earth that he hated more than anything else, it was bullies.

Cormac's face twisted into a truly hideous expression of rage. The boy's face was redder than a boiled over lobster, and his scowling, hateful expression made him look like an angry troll.

"Why you!"

He surged forward, hands in front of him, as if to shove or strangle Harry. It was hard to tell. Not that it mattered in any case. Harry had no intention of letting the older boy

actually do anything.

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Chapter 139

Gasps and screams were heard as their peers watched what was happening. Oliver made to move forward, intent on stopping any harm from coming to his new Seeker. There was no need.

As McGlaggen came forward with the intent to hurt, Harry moved. A single step forward, followed by bringing his hands up and in between McGlaggen's. He spread his arms apart, forcing the second year boy's hands to move wide. It left his guard open. Wide open.

Harry darted in quickly, moving past McGlaggen's guard like greased lightning. A speedy jab to the solar plexus was followed by an elbow under the jaw, then a knuckle

punch to the throat. Cormac nearly doubled over when the first punch hit as all the air came out of his lungs in a loud 'woosh!' His head snapped up and his back arched most painfully as the elbow found its place under his jaw, smacking so hard his teeth chattered together loudly. He grasped at his throat, gagging and choking as the knuckle from Harry's index and middle finger found purchase on his throat. All of this was followed up by Harry grabbing a fistful of McGlaggen's hair on the back of his head, and bringing the boy's nose onto his knee.

In the already deafening silence, the loud 'crunch!' of McGlaggen's nose breaking was almost overpowering. Cormac McGlaggen's head was snapped back up from the force of Harry's brutal attack. Blood poured out of his now broken nose. His eyes were dulling, losing their focus. He blinked several times. Then he fell backwards, toppling over like a house of cards that had been knocked down as he lost his grip on conciousness.

Harry sighed as he turned his eyes to the many wide eyed stares he was receiving. The members of his Quidditch

team were looking at him in shock. They also seemed amused, but that was mostly the grinning twins. Oliver did a look rather proud too. Neville was gaping at him, Hermione was too, but her wide eyed, jaw dropping look was much more comical. Most facial expressions seemed to be somewhere in between Hermione's and Neville's.

Maybe he had gone a bit overboard. He didn't regret his actions, that is, he didn't regret putting McGlaggen in his place because, really, the boy was a jerk and an idiot and someone needed to knock him from his self placed pedestal. But perhaps he shouldn't have been so violent.

"Well," Harry started slowly, "I hope this didn't ruin the party."

There was silence for only a few seconds, then a shout of, "that was AWESOME!" came from the twins and the rest of the Gryffindors began to cheer. Harry found himself surrounded by boys asking him how he managed to take out McGlaggen, and girls telling him how cool what he had done was while they giggled. Everyone ignored

McGlaggen where he was laid out on the floor. They should probably have someone take him to the hospital wing. Eventually.

Harry smiled. He didn't know what he had been worried about.

"Good morning, Harry," a smiling Mrs. Crawft greeted me. "I hope you slept well."

I blinked some more, thinking about her question. "You know, surprisingly, I did actually sleep pretty well."

"Oh my," Mrs. Crawft said, putting her hands to her cheeks, "really?"

She had an odd smile that I didn't like, but ignored as best I could.

"Um." I nodded. "Really, though I don't really know why." I guessed it was just because I wasn't sleeping at the Dursleys.

"Hmm."

Mrs. Crawft hummed. I got the feeling she had her own theories, but didn't want to know what they were. For some reason, I was afraid of learning them.

"That's just lovely," she said, before holding up her camera some more. "Now then, I think I'm going to take some more pictures of you two. Hope that's alright."

I shrugged, or tried to shrug. It was hard when someone had you in a grip of titan-level strength. "I don't really mind. Not sure why you want to take pictures, though."

Mrs. Crawft smiled as she held the camera to her face. "Don't worry, you will eventually."

It would be half an hour later that Lisa woke up. I would then learn exactly why Mrs. Crawft had been so keen on taking pictures when my only friend began chasing her mum around the house, screaming in outrage and

embarrassment.

On a side note, Mr. Crawft would be very displeased when he woke up and learned his daughter and I fell asleep together on the couch. Go figure.

XoX

"Is he alright?"

That was the very first question Hannah asked as she and Susan sat down next to Harry, Hermione, Neville, Lisa and Terry at the Gryffindor table. She was, of course, referring to none other than Neville Longbottom, who looked like he'd been shoved through a metaphorical meat grinder. The boy's head had fallen onto the table, large bags hung under his slightly bloodshot eyes and low, piteous moans escaped his mouth every few seconds. If weren't for the fact that he was sitting and not standing, the term 'dead on his feet' would be a most apt description of how terrible the boy appeared.

"He's fine." Harry smiled as he patted Neville on the back, earning a small whimper for the action. "He just got through his first day of my exercise routine."

"Exercise?" Lisa said, eying the Longbottom heir with a mixture of fascination, horror and pity. "And just what kind of... exercise makes someone look half-dead?"

"Ah, well," Harry started, "he's only like this because he's just not used to exercising. I'm sure that it will eventually become as easy as breathing for him."

Everyone looked from Harry to Neville, then back to Harry. As one they gulped.

"I don't think I even want to know what you consider exercise—" Terry gestured towards Neville, "—if this is the end result."

For a single second, Harry actually felt like pouting. Of course, he didn't, because that was something Lisa would have done, not him. Harry never pouted. But the urge was

there. How strange.

Still, it was a bit depressing that none of them could see how this would benefit Neville in the long run. Granted, the boy really did look pretty horrible.

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Chapter 140

Maybe he should have gone easier on boy?

As breakfast continued, Neville eventually managed to drag himself into a half conscious state. At the very least he was conscious enough to sit up and begin eating his meal. He still looked like he might pass out at any second, though.

During this time many owls came swooping into the Great Hall. Several family owls came toward them. Lisa got a

letter from her parents, Terry got the script for a new book that his dad had written and wanted his opinion about, Hannah got some sugar quills, and Susan got a letter as well as more ink and quills.

Over at the Slytherin table, Harry saw Draco's owl swoop down with more sweets for the spoiled boy. Draco hadn't looked too pleased when Harry walked in that morning, and it seemed as if not even getting to lord how rich his parents were over everyone else could bring his mood back. He was still glaring at Harry.

Not that Harry particularly cared. While the chance to gain an ally in what he had taken to calling the 'Death Eater Camp' could prove useful, it was not worth the trouble that would come with such an alliance. And while he would have liked to be able to use the old adage 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' in this instance, felt that doing such would not benefit his situation right now.

Besides, he could just ask Blaise and Tracey to keep their ears to the ground for him when they were in the Slytherin

common room.

Draco wasn't the only one who got something from parents at the Slytherin table. Harry saw that Blaise received a letter of some kind and Tracey managed to snatch one of the liquorice wands that had come with it. The dark-skinned boy sent her an exasperated look, but then offered one to Daphne, who absently poked at her eggs, barely paying any attention to what was going on around her.

A soft hoot alerted him to Hedwig landing directly in front of him. Her amber eyes burned into his as she showed him all of the mail attached to her leg. It was quite a bit. Not only had he received a number of letters, Hedwig was also carrying the Daily Prophet, which he now had a subscription for.

"Thanks, Hed," Harry said as he fed her some bacon and took the items from her. Hedwig gave a hoot as she gobbled up the bacon, and Harry began going over what she'd brought to him.

"What do you have there, Harry?" Lisa asked, curiosity dotting her fair features.

"A letter from Lisa, a bank statement with information about my investments, and the Daily Prophet Newspaper."

Harry tucked the letter from Lisa in his robe pocket as he spoke. He would read that in the privacy of his room after classes ended so he could write a reply right away. After a moments thought, the bank statement went in with it, and Harry began looking through the newspaper to see what the latest news in the wizarding world was.

"It looks like Nimbus Racing Broom Company's decision to donate brooms to Hogwarts made headlines."

Susan, who was not only the closest to him but also not dead tired like Neville, leaned over his shoulder to see what the article said. There, in big bold, print was the title: HARRY POTTER CONVINCES NIMBUS RACING BROOM COMPANY TO DONATE 28 BRAND NEW

NIMBUS 2000s TO HOGWARTS!

"It may have something to do with the fact that your name is also written in this," Susan said softly as she read article, which spoke about how Harry convinced the CEO of Nimbus Broom Racing Company to part with 28 brand new top of the line brooms. The article didn't say much, which was good because Harry had asked Andromeda to make sure the company remained quiet on what happened behind closed doors during their deal-making discussion. It pleased Harry to see that the man had been very tight lipped about what really went down, especially since they had not signed a magically binding contract. It said a lot about the CEO's integrity.

"That could have something to do with it, yes," Harry admitted with a mysterious smile, "I guess it can't be helped. This kind of publicity stunt is very big, especially in a community as small as magical Britain. And I don't doubt that many students wrote home about what happened as soon as breakfast was over. I wouldn't be surprised if the school's entire owlery had been emptied out that day."

"I wouldn't either," the redhead admitted, smiling.

Harry nodded, even as he continued looking through the paper. There wasn't much, just a few articles about what was happening in the wizarding world, which seemed to be very little. The most exciting thing to have happened in the magical community in a long time was the Gringotts break-in. Most of the stories now were simple affairs, new policies on certain magical items, a few incidents where a muggle had their mind wiped because they accidentally discovered magic. The most interesting thing to have happened recently was how several magical items had found their way into a muggle novelty shop and ended up cursing a fair number of customers. Aurors had been called onto the seen and all the muggles had their minds obliviated.

A dull thud alerted everyone to the fact that Neville had fallen asleep. All of Harry's friends gave the boy whose face was now laying in his food sympathetic to pitying looks.

"Don't worry about him," Harry said, withholding a small chuckle. Ok, so he was definitely going to have to give the boy an easier exercise routine. It was still pretty funny to see someone like this, though. He hoped that didn't mean he was turning into a sadist. "I'll give him a pepper-up potion after breakfast. He'll be right as rain."

His friends took one look at his smiling face, then quickly went back to their food and conversation, only occasionally glancing at Neville as he snored away in his porridge.

XoX

"It was Professor Snape."

A small blink was the only sign of Harry's surprise. Neither he nor his friends had ever brought up what had happened during the Quidditch match with his broom being cursed. Hermione looked like she wanted to bring it up once or twice, but with all that was going on, and Harry

not having much free time, she had kept her mouth shut. And none of the others looked like they wanted to speak of the incident at all. In fact, if one didn't know any better he would say they were all trying to forget the incident.