Content Harry Potter
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Platform 9 ¾ was crowded as usual.   Harry was amazed at how tiny the first year students seemed to be.   When his school friends saw Harry, they nearly didn’t recognize him because he’d grown so much.   He joined Neville in a compartment, stowed Hedwig’s, Pig’s and Crookshanks’ cages on the luggage racks and sat down to wait for Ron, Hermione and Ginny to join them after their meeting in the Prefect’s compartment.

"Are you looking forward to going back to school, Harry?" Neville said as he fussed with Trevor in his lap.

Harry smiled at his friend, then looked out the window, thinking.   He was very nervous about going back to school.   Not only was there the threat to his life, but he was certain there would be a lot of teasing going on about him having a Muggle girlfriend — the fact she was dead wouldn’t stop the Slytherins from picking on him.   He knew there would be a lot of challenges to his admittedly shaky control of his temper, and he just could not allow himself to lose his temper any more, not with the damage he could do in an uncontrolled moment.  

"Yeah," he finally replied, mentally crossing his fingers that he’d have at least a somewhat enjoyable year at school.

"Did you have a nice holiday?" said Neville.

It was the best holiday ever — and the very worst you could imagine, Harry thought.   After taking a deep breath, he went with the safe answer.   "Erm. . .yeah, I guess.   You?"

"It was OK.   My Uncle Algie took me out on a boat and we went fishing, then we went swimming, but I got a cramp and nearly drowned."

Harry leaned forward, concerned about his friend.   He knew what almost drowning felt like.   "Are you all right now?"

"Yeah.  It was weird, though.   Almost like floating, not as scary as I thought it would be to almost drown."   The round-faced boy shook his head.   "I don’t know why everything always happens to me."

Harry shook his head, thinking how true Neville’s statement was about his own life.   "Rotten luck, that, but at least you came through it.   I’m glad you’re OK."

"Yeah, me too."   Neville sat quietly a moment, then his face brightened and he reached for his pocket.   "Look what I’ve got!"

"What?"

"My own wand!  It chose me, it isn’t a hand-me-down!   My gran was really upset about my breaking Dad’s wand last term, but when she saw what I can do with this one. . ."   His face shone with pleasure.

"What do you mean?   What can you do?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"Whatever I want," Neville said with glee.   "Watch!"   He flicked his wand and a shower of glittery red and green sparks flew across the compartment, turning into hummingbirds before they disappeared from sight.   "Isn’t that great?"

"Yeah, Neville, that’s wonderful!   I’m happy for you," Harry said sincerely.   He smiled at the other boy, who looked fondly at his wand a while before putting it safely back in his pocket.

The train started moving and Harry dozed off as the train rocked along.   Ginny was the first one back to the compartment.   She smiled at Neville and sat down across from Harry, watching him sleep, noting the tired circles under his eyes.   He was getting stronger, but still wasn’t back to his full strength.   When Ron and Hermione joined them, Ginny hushed them as they entered the compartment, and the friends rode quietly, letting Harry rest.

Harry awoke when the food trolley lady arrived at their compartment.   He bought treats for everyone and they enjoyed sharing the sweets and looking at the Famous Wizard cards that came in their chocolate frogs.

"Oh, look!"   said Ginny.   "I got Harry!"   She laughed, and held up the card for the others to see.   "That’s one to keep!"

"If you want, I can ask him to sign that for you," Ron said in a stage whisper and a wink.   "Make it loads more valuable.   I’ve got an ‘in’ with him, y’know."

Harry snorted and threw a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans at Ron’s head.   They all dissolved into laughter.

"What’s this, then?" a sneering voice demanded as the compartment door flew open.   Draco Malfoy stood there with his pale, pointed face twisted up in disdain.   His thugs, Crabbe and Goyle, stood stupidly alongside him, looking not nearly as intelligent as the giant barrage balloons they resembled.

"Buzz off, Malfoy," Harry snapped.

"Buzz off?   Buzz off?   Is this an expression you’ve learned from your filthy Muggle girlfriend, then?   Pretty low-class expression, from the sound of it, but what else can you expect from Muggles, after all?" said Malfoy snidely.

"GET! OUT!" Hermione snapped, striding toward the door.

"You can’t order me around, Granger.   I’m a Prefect too."

"There are THREE Prefects in this compartment, in case you hadn’t noticed, and we do NOT need you here.   GET OUT!" Hermione repeated, pulling out her wand as she pushed Malfoy through the door.

Malfoy had learned the hard way not to mess around with Hermione, so he backed away, but not before grumbling, "You’re in for a rough year, Potter.   You’ve been warned."

"Get stuffed, Malfoy!" Ron called as he pushed the Slytherins out of the compartment and slammed the door in Malfoy’s face.   He turned around to see Ginny had moved to Harry’s side and had her hand on his shoulder.   Harry’s cheeks were flushed with fury and he was breathing heavily.   Ron watched tensely for a moment, then relaxed as he saw his friend’s clenched jaw muscles loosening a bit as Harry fought down his temper.   Hermione hovered protectively between Harry and the door, still staring out of the window, watching for trouble.  

Neville looked from Ron to Hermione to Ginny to Harry, and scratched his head.   "What’s going on?   Did I miss something?"

"Erm," Ron began.

"We’re not taking anything from Malfoy this year," Hermione growled.  

"There’s something odd about the way you lot reacted — like you were protecting Harry.   And Harry didn’t do anything at all.   That’s not normal," Neville observed.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny exchanged a look.   Harry was studying his trainers, not certain what to say.  

"Erm. . ." said Ginny.   "Neville?   Can you keep a secret?   It’s really important nobody knows this."

"Ginny!" Ron said in horror.   "No!"

Ginny gave him a quelling look, then turned back to the other boy.   "Neville, Harry was ill over the holidays and he’s still recovering.   We don’t want him to get too tired, so we’re being a bit overprotective.   You can understand that, right?"

"I suppose so," he replied hesitantly.

"If Malfoy or others found out about it, they’d give him a hard time.   You can see he’s exhausted.   He’s already taken a nap on this trip," Ginny explained.   "He just needs time to get well again, and needs to be left alone to do so.   Being annoyed by Malfoy will be too much of a strain for him."

Harry grumbled.   "I’m.   Not.   Fragile."

"No, Harry, you’re not fragile," Ginny said with a smile, "but you don’t have your full strength back.   When you do, you can say all the bad things you like to Malfoy — I’ll even give Gryffindor points if you come up with really good insults."

That comment got a smile from Harry.   "You’re on."

"What was wrong with you, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Some kind of nasty flu — it lasted a long time, took a lot out of me," Harry replied hastily.

"I’m sorry to hear that.   You’re OK now, though, right?"

"Yeah, just recovering still.   I’ll be fine."

"I won’t tell anyone.   I think it’s great you lot are looking after him this way," Neville said with a smile.

Hermione shrugged.   "What are friends for?"

* * * * *

"Firs’ years, this way!" came a deep, booming voice.

"Hagrid!" Harry called, and ran to greet his friend.

"All righ’ there, Harry?" Hagrid said, giving him a one-armed hug and beaming down at him.

"Yeah.  You?"

"Couldn’t be better!   Blimey, but you’ve grown a mile!   You’ll be as tall as me soon!" Hagrid said with a laugh.

"No, I don’t think I’m going to get quite that tall," the boy chuckled.  

"Good to see you, Harry.   You’d best be off to the carriages now.   We’ll chat later, OK?"

"’Course.  See ya!" He waved and ran off to find his friends, who were saving him a place in a carriage.

Walking into the castle, Harry found himself again the subject of intense scrutiny by his fellow students.   Some showed shock on their faces when they realized who he was, and how he’d grown and changed.   Others sneered and gossiped with their friends, obviously having read the articles in the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, Teen Witch Weekly, The Quibbler and other so-called "news outlets."   Harry ducked his head and moved with long strides up the staircase and through the halls to the Great Hall, Ron hustling to keep up with him, Hermione and Ginny running to catch up.  

"Harry, slow down!" Hermione panted.

Ginny ran hard to get close enough to Harry to see his face.   "Come here," she said, pulling him away from the Great Hall and into a quiet corridor.

"What?" he snarled.

"Temper, Harry.   You’re losing it again," Ginny warned.   "Be careful."   Ron and Hermione came and joined them.

Harry was nearly panting, he was so angry.   "I’m trying, I really am.   It’s just so. . ."

"I know," Ginny began, reaching out to touch his arm.

"You know?   How can you!" he snapped, jerking his arm away from her hand.   "Nobody points you out to their friends so everyone can stare at your scar.   Nobody prints lies about you in the paper so people think you’re a completely different person than you are.   Nobody. . ." He had to stop because Ginny had run into his arms and was holding him tightly.   "What are you doing?" he growled, putting his hands on her shoulders to push her away.

"I’m staying here until you calm down," she said quietly.   "You can do it.   I know you won’t hurt me."

Harry shook his head, angry at himself now.   "Not intentionally, no, but Ginny, you’ve just put yourself in danger."

"Not if you calm down."

"C’mon, mate, you know all these gits would make stuff up about you if it weren’t already in print.   They’re all jealous that you’re so famous," said Ron.   "First you were ‘the Boy Who Lived,’ then you became a Quidditch star, then the Tri-Wizard Tournament, all the stuff with You-Know-Who..."

"Voldemort," Harry said.   "Say the name."

"You-Know-Who," Ron insisted, "and now the Famous Wizard Cards and the posters?   I know you didn’t ask for any of this, and you’d rather things weren’t the way they are, but this is your life, mate, and you’ve got to deal with it.   I thought we had this all worked out before we left home."

Harry sighed.   "We discussed it.   We talked it to death.   Yes.   But getting hit in the face with it. . ."

"Is normal for this time of year, Harry.  Just ignore them," Hermione said earnestly.

Ginny was still holding him tightly, her arms around his waist, her head pressed into his chest.   She leaned back to look up at him.   "You know who your friends are, Harry.   You don’t need the rest of them."

Harry’s breathing slowed as he calmed down.   He dropped his hands from Ginny’s shoulders and gave her a hug.   "OK, you lot.   I’m sorry.   I’ll be good.   Can we go to the Feast now?"

* * * * *

The Sorting Ceremony and Welcome Feast were as much fun as always, and everyone was full to bursting with good food.   Dumbledore stood up to make his announcements.

"Now that we have completed our excellent feast, I have a few start-of-term notices.   The forest on our grounds is, as always, off limits to students.   Mr. Filch has added several things to the list of forbidden items — the complete list may be seen in his office.   I believe the list has more than five hundred and fifty items on it now — that’s rather remarkable when you think about it.   A great many of the new forbidden items are manufactured by Weasley Wizard Wheezes," he said with a twinkle in his eye and a chuckle.   "The Weasley twins are still leaving their mark on Hogwarts, it seems.   Mr. Filch also asked me to remind you that no magic is allowed in the corridors between classes.   We’re pleased to welcome back Professor Lupin as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."   A smattering of applause greeted this announcement, the strongest by far from the Gryffindor table.   The Slytherins hissed.   "Now, now," Dumbledore said, casting a quelling eye toward the Slytherin table.   "For those who have concerns about his health issues, I assure you that we have that situation under complete control.   He is the best Defence teacher we have had in many years, and in these troubled times, we need his expertise more than ever."

Dumbledore took a deep breath, then looked over his half-moon glasses quite seriously at the students.   "You must understand this.  We are at war.   Lord Voldemort . . ." There was a collective gasp. "Do not be afraid of his name.   Learn to say it, learn to hear it, learn to accept that he is back, and that he is at war with the forces of good in our world," he said in a firm voice.   "We.   Are.   At.   War.   These are serious times.   Hogwarts is the safest place you can be.   We have put extra protections around the castle, and there will be dragons guarding all entrances to the grounds."  

At this, Hagrid’s face split into a huge grin.   Harry, Ron and Hermione stifled their laughter at Hagrid’s delighted expression.

"We are increasing the amount of time you spend in Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, since we believe this to be the most important subject for you to concentrate on in these times.   Harry Potter, with the assistance of Professor Lupin as needed, will be continuing the D. A. meetings.   For those of you who are not aware of what the D.A. is, it stands for ‘Dumbledore’s Army.’   The D.A. is a student-run Defence Against the Dark Arts club, if you will, where you get extra practice in your defence skills and learn some hexes, jinxes and so forth that aren’t normally taught in class.   If you are interested in joining the D.A., please sign the lists now hanging in your house common rooms.   The membership of D.A. will be limited in size in order for each member to get plenty of personal attention from the instructors, Harry Potter and Professor Lupin.   The first D.A. meeting will be held. . .when, Harry?" he said, his eyes searching the Gryffindor table for a messy shock of black hair.   His face lit up when the boy smiled back at him.

"Two weeks from today," Harry replied, "in the Defence class room."

"Thank you."   Dumbledore smiled genially, then glanced around the room again.   "My intent is not to frighten you, but to prepare you for the coming conflict.   Hogwarts is a safe haven, but evil lurks outside our grounds.   We will be monitoring visits to Hogsmeade quite closely, and will make every attempt to keep it safe enough for those who are third year and up to visit.   But if we hear of dangers in the village, we will cancel visits there until the danger is past.   We are taking these measures for your own protection.   Please do not try to pass the dragons without permission, or to sneak out of the grounds at night.   The dragons will not allow anyone through the gates without permission, and you will have to have special permits that they will understand in order to pass.   Don’t even think about trying to forge such passes — ah, I suppose I didn’t need to say that, as the Weasley twins are no longer students here."   His eyes twinkled again briefly.   "I ask you to be vigilant in your communication with the outside world.   If a stranger contacts you for whatever reason, and you feel worried about that contact in any way, please talk to one of the teachers about the situation.   Even if someone known to you contacts you in some way that makes you uncomfortable, or makes you suspicious, please let us know.   We are here to teach and guide you, and to protect you as well."   He took a deep breath and then smiled.   "That said — I remind you that by working together, we create a formidable force.   Let us work together for good.   I’m sure you’re tired after your journey and our excellent feast, so I will bid you all good night."

"Well, that was cheery," Ron said as they left the Great Hall.

"Too right it was," Harry replied, "but they need to know.   They need to understand."

"Yeah, I guess," Ron replied morosely.

Later, as he settled back in his four-poster and pulled his covers to his chin, Harry sighed contentedly.   In spite of hateful or overly curious looks from other students, in spite of dire warnings, in spite of Malfoy still being a thorn in his side. . .it was good to be home.

* * * * *

When Harry got to the Common Room the next morning, he was gratified to see the large crowd waiting by the message board.   Two lines had formed — one to sign up for the D.A. and the other to sign up for Quidditch team try-outs.   He had to replace Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke as Beaters, both of whom had decided Quidditch wasn’t for them after their numerous injuries in the past year’s games, and Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, who had finished Hogwarts last term.  

"Oy, Harry!" Seamus Finnegan called.   "How are you going to schedule both Quidditch and the D.A.?"

"We’ll manage.   We’ve done it before," Harry replied, smiling confidently.   "Going to try out, Seamus?"

"I thought I might," the other boy said with a big grin.

"Cool.   We need Beaters and Chasers, and we’ll be having Seeker tryouts as well," Harry replied.

A huge shout went through the Common Room.   "Seeker?"   "Why?"   "Harry, what are you playing at?"   "Harry. . ." "Harry. . ."   "Harry. . ."

Harry climbed back up the dormitory steps to see the whole crowd.   "OK, OK, calm down!   I’m not going anywhere!" he said with a chuckle.   "In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve had a huge growth spurt.   Seekers are normally small and light.   We need to see if someone else would be a better Seeker.   Ginny played Seeker very well last year, but she wants to play Chaser now.   We’ll just have to see who’s best.   I can play Chaser or Beater."

A wave of protest went through the crowd.

Harry was laughing.   "Don’t worry, I won’t pick somebody slow.   They will have to out-fly me to get the position."

"As if!"   "Too right!"   "Are you going to let them try the Firebolt?"   "How’s anyone supposed to out-fly you without a Firebolt?"

Harry held up his hands to calm the crowd.   "The Firebolt isn’t being loaned out, sorry.   Whoever tries out, we’ll just see what kind of fliers they are.   If we see a potential Seeker among them, we’ll go from there.   If not, I can still do it.   But we’ll make a decision that’s best for the team — we do want to keep that Cup!"

Cheers met this statement, and the crowd eventually turned back to signing the lists.

* * * * *

As Harry, Hermione, Ron moved down the corridor toward their first class, they noticed a large crowd of girls was following them.   "What’s up with them?" Ron asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Couldn’t tell you.   No idea," Harry replied, trying not to look around at the growing crowd of giggling girls.   They were all ages, and all houses, even some Slytherins, who usually only followed Harry and his friends around to tease and torment them.

"I think I have an idea," Hermione said.   "Keep looking ahead.   Just ignore them.   I’ll tell you when we get to class."   The boys looked at each other over her head, then down at her.   Seeing her giving each of them a quelling glance, they looked obediently ahead, staying quiet until they got to their classroom.   By the time they got there, Harry understood what was going on.   He could hear what the girls were saying as they whispered and giggled behind him.   A blush suffused his face and he clenched his teeth as he started muttering passages from Which Broomstick? to distract himself from getting angry.   Ron and Hermione watched him nervously out of the corners of their eyes, hurrying him along to the safety of the classroom.   The girls stuck with them, their comments getting louder and bolder.

"Look how tall he is now!"   "When did he become such a hottie?"   "Isn’t it cute how his hair curls a bit at the back of his neck?"   "Oh!   He LOOKED at me!"   "Do you think those articles were true?"  

In the classroom, Harry wheeled on Hermione.   "What did which article say about me now?   That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?"

Hermione gulped.   "Harry, remember.   You need to . . ."

"I know.   Keep my temper.   What is it?"

Hermione took a deep breath, then said in a rush, "Teen Witch Weekly arrived in this morning’s mail.   They named you the ‘Sexiest Wizard of the Year’ a few weeks ago, and have been running a whole series of articles on you, saying what you like in a girl, what you like to do on dates, what your hobbies and interests are, that kind of thing.   The articles have been pretty. . .um. . .well. . .let’s just say you get described in glowing terms all the time."   She blushed, hoping he wouldn’t ask for details.  

"What?"   Harry’s jaw dropped, his face flushed, his eyes flashing.

"Harry, please. . ." Hermione began timidly.

"Mate, calm down," Ron said urgently, putting a hand on Harry’s arm and putting himself between his best friend and his girlfriend.   He pushed Hermione behind him protectively.   She peered around his arm, watching Harry fume as he fought his rising rage.

Harry backed up and leaned against the wall, banging his head slowly and deliberately against it several times.   "Damn.   Damn.   Damn.   Damn," he said with each bang.

"It’s kind of funny, really, when you think of it," Ron offered nervously.

"In what way is it funny?" Harry wanted to know, glaring at him.

"Erm. . ."   Ron was at a loss.

"Never mind."   Harry sighed, then looked down at the floor and took quite a few deep, calming breaths, shaking his hands out loosely, stretching and contracting his leg muscles, anything to distract and relax himself.   Finally, he looked up at his friends, then past them at the gaggle of girls still standing outside the classroom looking in at him.   When they saw him look at them, they burst into giggles and many of them covered their faces with their hands, their blushes obvious, while others waved.

"Look at it this way, mate," Ron commented, laughter in his voice as he, too, glanced at the giggling crowd.   "You won’t have to look far for a date this year."

Harry snorted.   "Yeah, well, that’s true, I suppose.   As if I’d want to date any of them."

Hermione was affronted and stepped defiantly out from behind Ron.   "There are some very nice girls out there!"

"There may be, Hermione, but I don’t want to be stuck with a ‘fan’ girl," he reminded her.   "They’re not my type."

"If you take the time to get to know some of them, you might be surprised and find a nice girlfriend among them." she insisted.

"Yeah, but I’d have to weed out the others first," he grumbled as he headed toward a desk, "and I just don’t feel like doing that."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other uneasily.   Harry was just simmering, not really angry, which amazed them.   When was the explosion coming?   Or did he really have himself under control?   With a look, they agreed to stick close to him to try to help him maintain his calm demeanour.

Harry saw nothing funny about the girls following him.   And he wasn’t interested in dating anyone.   Despite the fact that nearly all of his memories of Casey were in the Pensieve, not in his head, he retained an aching Casey-sized hole in his heart.   His anger had dissipated at that moment because it had been replaced by crushing depression.   Fighting to hold the depression at bay gave him little energy for anger.   He sat down at the desk, kicked his bag under his seat, then dropped his face into his hands, closing out the world, battling his inner demons alone until the teacher called the class to order.

* * * * *

As the days passed, the fans didn’t lose interest, but grew in number, and became more aggressive.   Harry tried ignoring them, tried walking too quickly for them to keep up, and eventually accepted the fact that they were there and he’d have to face them at some point.     He finally broke down and talked to one of them, a pretty fourth year Ravenclaw girl who got shoved into him by the crowd, causing both of them to drop their bags.

"So what’s your name?" he asked as they picked up their things.

"Emma McDougall," she answered shyly.   "I’m sorry I crashed into you.   I couldn’t help it. . ."

"I know."   Harry cast about for some safe subject of conversation.   "What class are you going to?"

"Charms.   You?"

"Transfiguration."   He couldn’t think of anything else to say, and the girl wasn’t helping.   She was staring at him with huge, sparkling eyes, an excited grin on her face.   She reminded him uncomfortably of Colin Creevey in her excitement at being near him.   He found it a bit creepy.  

"I guess our ways part here.   Have a nice day," he said, turning down the corridor for his class, lengthening his stride to catch up with Ron and Hermione.   He turned around when he heard a burst of laughter behind him.   Emma was surrounded by her friends and they were dissecting her brief conversation with him in excruciating detail.   Emma was squealing and jumping up and down.   Harry turned back toward his friends, shaking his head and sighing.

"I tried, Hermione," he said quietly when he joined his friends.   "Don’t ask me to do that again!   And what happened to you two staying with me in the halls to protect me?"

"Crikey, Harry, it didn’t look like you needed our protection," Ron quipped.   "They look like they’d be a bit of fun for you, if you’d let them."

Hermione poked Ron in the ribs.   "Harry’s right, we’re supposed to stick close to him."   She looked at Harry.   "We’re sorry.   We’ll do better, we promise!"

"I don’t want to put you out, you know," Harry conceded, "but in this case, I wouldn’t mind a bit of protection!"

* * * * *

A few days later, as Harry, Ron and Hermione walked down the extremely crowded hallway, Harry yelped.   "Ouch!"

"What’s wrong?" Hermione asked.

"Somebody pinched my bum," Harry said, red with indignation.   "Ouch!"   He turned quickly and snapped "Gerrof!"

The girls behind him backed off a little, but the ones on his sides crowded in even more.

"What do you want from me?" Harry demanded.   "Keep your bloody hands to yourself!"   Seeing no immediate, sensible response, and trying desperately to hold his temper, Harry turned and stalked away, flanked by Hermione and Ron, then turned again, this time in a rage.   "Stop touching me!"

"What happened this time?" Ron asked, taking a cautious step away from Harry, hoping his friend could control his anger.

"Somebody felt up my bum," Harry snapped.   His head snapped up when he heard Ron’s stifled laughter.   Ron blanched, and swallowed hard in the face of Harry’s temper.   "It’s not funny, Ron.   It’s gone too far.   It has to end."   Ron nodded mutely.

"Temper, Harry," Hermione reminded him quietly.

Harry rounded on the girls crowded around him.   "What do you want?   Tell me."

No response.   Then finally a small voice said, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"That’s none of your bloody business," he snapped, glaring at her pointedly.

"It is if we want to apply for the position!" a voice from the back of the crowd quipped cheerfully.   The others laughed.

"I will choose whoever I want to be my girlfriend whenever I want to choose someone.   Is that clear?   Now back off!   I don’t like being rude to you, but you’ve forced me to it."   He turned and stalked away, but not before hearing excited murmurs behind him.

"Did you see how his eyes flashed when he was angry?"   "Such a brilliant green!"   "Those patches of red in his cheeks make him even cuter."   "His lips get red when he’s angry!   Yum!"   "What a DISH!"

Harry was growling by the time they got to class, but he still, somehow, managed to hold his temper.

* * * * *

On tryout day for the house Quidditch teams, nearly every Gryffindor was there.   Most were in the stands as an enthusiastic audience, and a large group of hopefuls were standing around with brooms in their hands, waiting their turn to fly.   Harry, Ron, Ginny and Katie took their time with each applicant, watching them demonstrate their flying skill however they wanted, then trying a few moves with them in various positions to see how they did.   When some young students asked to try out as Seeker, the massed Gryffindors in the stands booed them.   "We want Harry!   We want Harry!" they chanted.   Harry grinned and waved at the students in the stands, then turned back to his potential Seekers.  

"Don’t listen to them.   You’re all going to have a chance to try out.   You’re decent fliers, but we need to see how you do at catching the Snitch.   I’m going to release it and see how it goes.   I’ll be the opposing team’s Seeker, so look out, I’m going after that Snitch too!   I promise not to use any dirty tactics on you — I don’t want any of you hurt.   But do watch out if I dive — don’t plough yourselves, be sure you pull out of the dive in time."   He looked around at the eager, nervous faces.   "OK, you’re first," he said, pointing to a first-year girl.   "Let’s go."   He released the Snitch, then the two of them kicked off.   Harry flew conservatively for a few minutes, then started increasing his pace.   The girl kept up with him for a while, but just had no talent for tight, quick turns.   Harry caught the Snitch and landed.   "Good job.   Next?"   He and the second student repeated the process.   Eventually, Harry had worked his way through all the applicants for the Seeker position, but it was plain not one of the people trying out for any position at all could fly as well as he did.

"All right, that’s it for today.   The names of those who have been accepted for the team, and the positions they’ll be playing, will be posted in the Common Room by tomorrow morning," Harry announced.   "Thank you all for trying out.   You all did a great job, and you’ve made our decision a tough one," he said charitably.   He turned to those in the stands.   "Let’s give a cheer for all these folks who tried out.   And thanks to you for coming to watch.   GO, GRYFFINDOR!"   The stands reverberated with the cheer, "GO, GRYFFINDOR!" then the students dispersed.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Katie retired to the locker room, sitting together and comparing notes about the various students who’d tried out.

"The Creevey brothers were a lot better than I thought they’d be," Ginny offered.

"Yeah, and they work well as a team.   I was thinking maybe they could be the Beaters," Harry said, looking over his notes on the various applicants.

"Don’t you think they’re still a bit small for that?" Ron asked, his forehead furrowed.   "I mean, Beaters should be big."

"Not necessarily.   They’re both quick and agile fliers.   I think they’ll do," Harry assured him.   "Now for Chaser, I think Seamus was good."

"Yes, I liked him too.   I thought Seamus would make a good Beater," said Ron.   "He’s big enough."

"But the Beaters need to work as a team even more than the rest of us," Harry insisted.   "Or have I just been spoilt by Fred and George’s teamwork?"

"No, I think you’re right," said Katie.   "The Creeveys are small, but they never missed the Bludger, and they passed to each other well."

"If we want them to work together, they could be Chasers, and Seamus and Dean could be Beaters," Ron offered.

Ginny looked affronted but didn’t say anything.

"No, Ron, Ginny was the best flier out there," Harry replied, looking at his friend curiously.   "Do you not want Ginny on the team?"

Ron sat up, looking startled.   "No!   That’s not it.   I was just trying to think of other options."

"Speaking of other options, who should be Seeker?" Harry asked.

"You!" Ginny, Katie and Ron replied.

"OK, then, I’m Seeker.   Katie, Ginny and Seamus are Chasers, Colin and Dennis are Beaters, Ron’s Keeper.   Are we agreed?"

"Yes," said Katie.

"Yeah," said Ron with a reluctant shrug.  

"Yup!" Ginny said with a grin.

As they started to go to the showers, Harry stopped to talk privately with Ron.   "Ron, are you worried about Ginny being on the team?   I really need to know," he insisted.

Ron sat back and thought a while.   "I guess I’m just being overprotective.   I always have been with Ginny.   She is my baby sister."

"Can you stick to your position as Keeper if she gets in trouble?" Harry asked.   "If you can’t, then she can’t be on the team.   You have to do your job, not be babysitting Ginny."

Ron thought another moment.   "I can do it.   She loved being on the team last year, and she’s a really good flier.   I guess Chaser isn’t that much more dangerous a position than Seeker.   It wouldn’t be fair for me to want her off the team."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes.   Go ahead and put her on the list."

Harry caught up with to Katie and Ginny as they were about to enter the girl’s locker room.   "Do you have any reservations about anyone we’ve discussed?"

"No, I think the people you chose will be a good combination.   Go for it!" Katie said with a grin.  

"Me too," Ginny agreed.   "Are we done?"

"Yeah.   Thanks a lot," Harry replied, picking up his gear and heading for the showers.   "See you later.   Oh, and let’s not tell anyone who’s on the team before the list is posted — let them all find out at the same time."

"OK," said Katie and Ginny as they headed for the girls’ showers.

"Right," said Ron as he followed Harry into the boys’ locker room.

* * * * *

Harry waited until after midnight, when the Common Room was empty, to post the new team list.   As he turned to go back to his dormitory, he heard someone coming down the girls’ staircase.

"Ginny.   What are you doing up?" he asked, smiling at the girl, who looked a bit frowsy from sleep.

"I had a bad dream," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.   "Couldn’t get back to sleep."   She looked up at him, then realized a new piece of parchment was on the bulletin board behind him.   "Is that the team list?"

He nodded.

"Ron was trying to get me off the team, wasn’t he?" she said as she looked over the list.

"He thought about it.   He’s worried about you.   He says he’s overprotective, because you’re his baby sister.   But he said you were great last year, and deserved to play," Harry assured her.   "He thought Chaser might not be as dangerous as Seeker."  They both chuckled, knowing there wasn’t really a "safe" position on a Quidditch team.

"You talked him into letting me stay, didn’t you?"

He shrugged.   "You earned it."

"Thank you, Harry," Ginny grinned, her eyes dancing, then impulsively hugged him.  "I can’t wait to start practicing again.   I just love to fly!"    

Harry found he was quite enjoying holding the excited girl in his arms.   He wondered if he’d be the one to be overprotective of her.   He leaned his cheek against her hair and just held her a moment longer before releasing her.   "You said you had a nightmare.   Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No, that’s all right.   I’ve forgotten what it was," she replied, a big grin on her face.   "Now I’m too excited to sleep, though.   Wow, I’m Chaser!   That’s brilliant!"

"You’ve always been a good flier," he told her.   "I think you’ll be a very good Chaser."   He turned to go upstairs.   "Are you going to stay up?"

"I honestly can’t sleep right now.   I guess I’ll read or something," she replied.

"I’ll keep you company, then," he offered.

"No, you must be tired.   You don’t have to do that."

"I know I don’t have to — I want to.   I’ve spent enough nights down here alone to know it’s no fun at all," he replied with a smile.   "Do you want to play gobstones for a while?   Or Wizard’s Chess?"

"Yes!" she replied, going to get the game out.   They spent a pleasant hour chatting and giggling as they played Wizard’s Chess before they both were tired enough to go to bed.

"This was fun, Harry.   Thanks for staying up with me," said Ginny, smiling warmly as she put away the game.

"It was fun for me too.   We don’t get to see each other at school that much, you and I.   I’m glad you came down tonight."   He smiled down at her.

"So am I," she said.   She looked up at him and felt a strange tension between them, not an unfriendly one, but something different to normal.   She suddenly realized she was in her pyjamas, robe and slippers, hair all frowsy, and Harry was seeing her like this and had been for over an hour.   Not only that, but he wasn’t looking at her like she was his little sister anymore.   A blush suffused her face and she turned for the stairs, calling "Good night!" over her shoulder as she hurried to her dormitory.

Harry smiled at Ginny’s retreating back.   "Good night, Ginny," he replied, then turned to go upstairs, pondering the intriguing mysteries of girls.

* * * * *

The fan problem wasn’t going away.   More pictures and articles were appearing in the various magazines and papers, none of which were any help to Harry’s hopes for quiet walks between classes.   Now the girls were asking for his autograph, and often on some very inappropriate items.   He blushed furiously when a girl handed him a pair of her knickers and a lipstick and asked him to sign that, "To Meg, with much love, Harry."   He stormed off after that, but the girls persisted in pursuing him.   Nothing seemed to deter them, or dim their eagerness to follow him around.   Ron and Hermione tried to walk with him as much as possible, but the crowd of girls often cut Harry off from them despite their best efforts.   It didn’t help that Ron still thought the whole situation was pretty funny and Hermione thought Harry should be nice to them.   On one of these occasions, Harry got cornered by a mob of girls.   He couldn’t get away from them unless he was willing to push them rudely or use magic on them, neither of which seemed a good option.   He had worked out by this time that most of them were nice people normally.   They were just treating him as if he were a movie star or something.   He didn’t know how actors and other celebrities managed.   The whole situation was completely barmy.

"Harry!   Harry, sign this for me!" a girl said, waving her Charms book at him. "Harry, can I have your autograph," another girl asked more meekly, holding out one of his Quidditch posters.   "Harry, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" an aggressive girl said throatily, pushing herself against him.  

"Sorry, no," he told the first two girls, trying to curb his impatience.   "No, thank you" he said uncomfortably to the third, who was a seventh year and gorgeous.   Was he a nutter, turning down these opportunities?   No, he didn’t think so, but his friends did.   It all made him so uncomfortable.   All he wanted was to be "just Harry."   Why couldn’t he manage that?   He was grinding his teeth with tension and weaving between the girls, trying to get free of two who were trying to hug him — or worse — when he saw Ginny coming down the hallway.   "Ginny!" he called.

"Hi, Harry!" she replied, waving and smiling at him.   Her smile faded when she saw his situation.   "All right there?"

"Not really!"     He pushed through the girls to get to Ginny, apologizing when he trod on someone’s foot, or had to push someone to get past.   Some girls were deliberately offering their chests or buttocks for him to push against.   Harry felt as if he was a cat on hot bricks trying to keep away from them.   The girls in front were being crushed against him by the ones at the back whether they wanted to be pushed against him or not.

"You lot, back off!" Ginny yelled.   "I’m going to start taking house points if you don’t give Harry some space."

"We’re not doing anything wrong," a few protested.

Ginny put her hands on her hips and stared them down.   "You’re harassing him.   He needs room to move, to walk to class.   He’s been late a lot lately, and it’s your fault.   You Gryffindors, in particular, should be ashamed of yourselves.   When Harry’s late because of you, it costs our house points!"  

The girls only looked slightly put out by the reprimand.

Harry finally reached her side and leaned down to whisper in her ear.   "Can I ask you a favour?"

"Of course!" she replied.

"Would you mind . . .erm. . ."   He blushed furiously, at a loss for words.   "You see, it’s just. . .I mean. . .I was wondering. . ."

"Would you like me to, um, maybe, erm, pose as your. . .girlfriend. . . for a while to get you some relief from them?" Ginny offered with a twinkle in her eye while she blushed furiously.

"Yes!   That would be brilliant!" he said, grinning hugely, relief brightening his face.

"Fine with me," she agreed with a chuckle.   "What are friends for, after all?"  

"OK, then," Harry said, straightening up and draping his long arm gingerly around her narrow shoulders.   "Where are we off to?"   He nearly laughed to hear the collective moan from the girls behind them.

"Potions.   You?"

"Defence.   I can walk you part of the way to class anyway," Harry said, grinning.   As they walked, he could feel the space behind them opening up.   The cluster of disappointed girls dropped back.   "Whew.   Thanks, Ginny," he said, then leaned down and kissed her on top of her head.   "You’re a lifesaver."

Ginny felt warmth rush all over her from that kiss on top of her head.   Posing as his girlfriend would be a joy — and a heartache, if it continued to be just posing. What had she done?

* * * * *

"Mister Potter," Snape sneered, "exactly what do you call that?"

Harry sighed.   His potion was supposed to be lavender, not pink.   "It’s the Kiss of Death potion."

"No, it isn’t.   After all these years, you still can’t read?" Snape’s lip curled in disgust.

Harry ground his teeth and counted to twenty, working hard to control his temper.   Despite the teachers being warned about the dangers of Harry losing control of his temper or using magic on students, Snape continued to bait him.   Harry took a deep breath and blew it out, then looked at the board again.   His shoulders slumped.   "I added the boomslang skin after the lacewings instead of before," he muttered.

"Evanesco," Snape said with a flick of his wand, emptying Harry’s cauldron.

Harry fumed as Snape walked away.   He could do Potions.   He was actually good at it — he’d received an "Exceeds Expectations" on his Potions O.W.L.   He got out his ingredients and started again, adding things carefully, stirring counter-clockwise, then clockwise as required, working as quickly as he could.   He was determined not to get a zero today, even if he had to skip his next class to get this potion done correctly.   He soon had a lavender potion that looked exactly like Hermione’s.

"Potter!" Snape snarled, hovering ominously over their workstation again.   "Did you put some of Granger’s potion in your cauldron?"

"No, sir, I made this myself just now," Harry said, his face open and innocent.   He wasn’t completely shocked by the question.   This was, after all, Snape who was asking.   But still. . .he’d worked very hard to get it right.   If he got a zero on it this time. . . .

"That’s not possible in this amount of time," Snape retorted with his usual snarl.  

A glance at his professor’s eyes showed Harry the man looked nervous.   What’s going on now? he wondered.   He dipped some of his potion into a flagon and sealed it, handing it to Snape wordlessly.  

Snape took it and set it on his desk, saying "See me after class, Potter," as he set the flagon in the testing tray.  

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry sympathetically.   "How did you do it that fast?" said Hermione.

"I dunno, I just kept at it until it was done," he said with a shrug as he packed away his things and cleaned his work table.

"Did you watch him?" Ron asked Hermione in a quiet voice.   "It was like he was speeded up or something.   Not much, but still. . .it wasn’t our normal Harry."

Harry looked at him quizzically.   "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Ron whispered as he finished clearing away his things, "you were working non-stop, ploughing on, and your hands were moving rather fast.   Normally you’re careful and deliberate in here. This time, you acted as if you. . .," Ron was obviously searching for the right words, "as if you knew what you were doing, I guess you could say, and it was easy for you."

Harry looked affronted.   "Well, I didn’t.   I was just determined to finish it correctly, no matter how long it took."

"Good job, however you did it," Hermione said with a smile.   "I’ve never seen Snape so shocked."   She stifled the laugh that was just beneath the surface of her words.   She and Ron lingered inside the door as Harry squared his shoulders and walked up to the professor’s desk.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked in as polite a tone as he could manage.

Snape looked past him to Ron and Hermione.   "You may go," he told them.

"We’ll wait for you outside, Harry," Ron said as they left and closed the door behind them.

Harry nodded at his friends, then turned back to Snape.

"Sit down, Potter," Snape said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice.   Harry sat down at the desk that faced the professor’s.   "I know what you did," Snape began.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, then remembered to add, "sir."

"You used some kind of magic on the potion, didn’t you?   Did you copy Granger’s?"

"No.   Is that possible?   I thought potions had to be made from scratch."   Harry was truly confused now.

"Yes, they do.   You, however, are a very . . . unusual, shall we say? . . .wizard.   You have powers emerging that no one but Dumbledore can comprehend or expect.   Today I watched you speed up a process that should take two hours to complete.   There should not have been time for you to re-do that potion in the amount of class time we had left."

Harry had no idea what to say.   He swallowed hard.   He hadn’t felt like he was doing anything unusual.   "I, erm, I just worked hard at it, sir."

"You don’t know how you sped up the process?"   Snape looked sceptical.

"No, sir, I was just concentrating and working hard. . .I don’t know what else to tell you."   Harry’s face showed his confusion.  

Snape sighed.   "All right, Potter, if you don’t know how you did it, I suppose we’ll have to leave it at that.  But be careful.   The headmaster told you not to use your, shall we say, ‘excess magic’ in class.   You might have blown something up."

"I’m sorry, sir.   I honestly wasn’t aware I was doing something unusual."

Snape studied his least favourite student for a moment before replying.   "Your getting a potion correct at all is something unusual," he snarled.   "Now that you’ve shown you’re capable of the work — and I would love to know how you managed to get the O.W.L. results you did — your work will be held to a higher standard than it has been in the past.   What you did today showed skill, concentration, and ability.   Do make an effort to show these things in future classes, while making every effort not to blow up the rest of the class."

Almost an actual compliment, and from Snape!   Who would believe that?   "Yes, sir," Harry said, starting to get up, then hesitating.   "Is that all?"

"Yes, you’re dismissed."

"Thank you, Professor."   Harry picked up his things and left before Snape could change his mind.   When he got outside, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him with anxious faces.  

"What happened?" Hermione asked, her face creased with worry.

He told them all about his conversation with Snape.  

"You’re right, Harry," Hermione exclaimed after hearing the story.   "He gave you a compliment!"

"That’s probably unheard of — for a Gryffindor, and you especially, to get a compliment from him?   Amazing!" Ron said with a grin.  

"Well, not a real compliment, just almost-a-compliment," Harry said modestly, but he was grinning.

"You’ll have to go tell Remus," Ron insisted.   "He’ll be shocked!   Mum will be too.   I’ll write her about it this evening, unless you want to."

"No, you can do it," Harry replied with a smile, thinking of how Mrs. Weasley and Remus would react to such news.   He wished he could see Mrs. Weasley’s face when she read Ron’s letter.   He could picture it in his mind — first she’d look disgusted at reading that Snape was up to his usual practice of picking on Harry, then she’d be amazed at what Harry had done, then she’d probably laugh aloud to hear Snape had been forced into making an almost-admiring comment about Harry’s potion.   "I think I’ll go talk to Remus about it after dinner.   He can probably do with a good laugh."


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Author Notes:

Many thanks to my brilliant Brit-picker, Kelpie, and my beta readers Blakevich, Starfox and Pilar! And before you readers find too much fault with the "fan girl" situations depicted in this chapter, believe it or not, they're based on real life encounters told to me by friends who are movie actors - and no, I won't say who! Just think of Dan Radcliffe's real-life encounter with the "towel girl" (on MTV's TRL when he was 12!) and you'll realize I'm not exaggerating things here!