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Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related concepts are owned by someone who isn't me. I will never seek or accept money for the circulation of this work. Especially this work.



Holly Polter



Chapter: Level Up

"Sirius! Sirius!"

The magic mirror dimmed out Harry's reflection, revealing a bleary-eyed Sirius Black.

"Did I wake you? Too bad- I need your advice. Take a look at the Prophet."

Sirius wandered away from Harry's sight for a few minutes then returned, slumping down at what looked to Harry to be the kitchen in Grimmauld Place. Sirius said, "Alright, alright. What's your-- BAH HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Y'know, I was hoping for some sympathy and guidance from my godfather."

Over the mirror, Sirius' face had vanished in favour of a view of the grimy kitchen rafters, but Harry could hear him saying, "Moony! Moony, you've got to see this!"

Remus' voice echoed, "Well, it probably isn't as ba-ha-ha HAAAAh! Oh, Tonks! Take a look at our fearless leader's progress!"

It was time for Tonks' honking snort to add to the unwelcome reactions. She said, "Oh, well-picked, Harry. She's a cutie. Why's she look blonde in half the pictures? It doesn't really work with her colouring."

Remus said, "Like you've cause to be critical of others' hair colour choices?"

"I'm being observant," Tonks replied, "Aurors do that. Y'know what else we do? Hunt down Dark Creatures--"

"Oh for- I haven't had breakfast yet," Sirius protested,"Can't you hold off flirting until my stomach's settled?"

Harry sighed. "Never mind." He flipped the mirror so it landed face down on his blanket, ending the connection.

With that preparation, Harry easily weathered the rise of laughter and cat-calls when he arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast. He maintained a policy of making no comment whilst seeming half-amused by the circus of it. The crowd quieted down by order of a highly-irritated Professor McGonagall. Then Katie appeared at the doorway.

Harry jumped up from the Gryffindor table and strode up to her, stopping an arms-length away. He stood with his hands down at his sides as he just wasn't sure where they... stood.

He muttered, "Seen the Prophet?"

Katie's blush intensified as she mumbled, "Of course. Alicia brought me up a copy, bless her."

"I could kiss you," he offered.

"Or I could slap you," she countered.

Neither spoke for a moment. Most of the room seemed to be waiting as well.

Harry gave her a sly look. "Call it a prank. High-five?"

A grin grew on Katie's face.

They slapped hands high, low and then bumped hips before turning to walk back to the Gryffindor table. They sat in their usual places with friends and started their breakfast, ignoring the questions, cheers and further complaints from Professor McGonagall demanding that everyone exhibit proper composure at meals, even on the weekend.

With that, Harry and Katie had effectively declared that all taunting would be heard and appreciated without complaint. While many harsh and rude things were said to both of them, the force of ill intent had been disarmed by the power of 'we meant to do that'. It didn't stop the harassment, but Harry felt it was tapering off faster than he'd experienced in the past.

~o~

That evening at dinner Harry saw Hermione bypass her usual seat across from his and instead sit down a few places further in, next to Katie. She then stared at her until Katie stopped eating. They were just close enough that Harry could hear Katie say, "Granger? What's the what?"

Hermione said, "May I offer you a piece of advice?"

"You're not about to tell me to keep my paws off your wizard, are you?" She glanced Harry's way and they shared a brief smile.

"Gracious, no! My advice is to open your post very carefully."

Katie waved a dismissive hand. "Ah- I only ever get stuff from my mum and sister."

Even from a few yards off and facing away from him, Harry could tell that Hermione was smiling. She said in her best swotty voice, "That was yesterday."

Owls began to enter the hall through the ceiling- hundreds of them. They banked en masse, queueing up for a landing or package drop on their end of the Gryffindor table. Harry dropped his forkful of brisket and drew his wand.

He saw Hermione draw her wand as well as she muttered, "I don't believe the rest of the world has caught up on your 'prank' yet."

~o~

Monday was equally chock-full of mockery and antagonistic post for both Katie and Harry. Holly had reappeared by then and she assured Harry that his 'play it off' strategy was sound and valid. It was one of the few times Harry was glad that Holly was a handful of ink- anything larger and she'd have been noticed, as everything about him was being noted, commented on and criticised by his enemies, which at this point included 'everyone but the people I've kissed'. Even Ron was taking the mickey.

Tuesday night he and Katie finally arranged to meet alone after dinner, finding separate paths to a disused tunnel to Hogsmeade that had collapsed some time in years past. Harry had arrived first and recruited a wayward fairy to lead Katie down the passage to him. Soon enough he could see the floating luminescence leading a witch with a ready wand towards where he sat on a wooden bench he'd unshrunk whilst waiting.

He whispered 'thanks' to the tiny fae, who sped back along the tunnel. Katie turned back from watching it depart, her face shadowed oddly in the blue radiance cast by the dozen bluebell flames he'd put in jars around their tunnel room.

Katie whined, "People are watching or following me everywhere!You wouldn't believe what it took to meet you here!" She stowed her wand in her robes and sat down next to him.

Harry's brows knotted. "Yes, I would."

"Oh, yeah, I guess you would. Anyway Fred told me how to get here and I almost ignored him, except he seemed oddly serious about it."

"Yeah," Harry replied with confidence, "the twins know when not to mess with me."

"Such bravado! No one in their right mind would trust a Weasley twin."

Harry smiled and said, "But you already knew I'm a nutter."

Katie smiled back but her face fell after a pause. "I should mention... my mum would like to know if you plan on making an honest witch out of me."

Harry caught short his original off-hand reply. Katie glared at him. He squinted back.

"You may reply to your mother that, 'While I find you to be a delightful person and an excellent Quidditch player, you and I are victims of hearsay and innuendo, and that suggesting any other action was needed would be to admit guilt where none exists.' That's what my tutor suggested we say, anyway."

"Harry, they got it right- we had sex."

"Yeah, and we agreed not to feel guilty about it."

"Oh, yeah! Good point."

"You want me to write a letter to her?"

"I can cover it with what you said. Thanks." Katie stood up to leave. Harry grabbed her hand.

"Hey, Katie?"

"Yeah?"

"Has your week been as rotten as mine has?"

"Probably."

He looked up at her. She looked at him quizzically, then a light dawned. She slumped down and then rearranged her legs to straddle him on the bench.

Harry said in a playful way, "It's been really hard for me."

She replied, "I know..." and ground her mound against his rising erection, exhaling, "...just how you feel."

Harry grinned until they kissed. Katie shrugged her robes off her shoulders and then wrapped her arms around his head, trapping them into an intense snog. This was Katie's particular habit that he enjoyed- the way she caressed and massaged her fingers into his hair as they kissed. He supported her back with one hand on her dress shirt and used the other to grip her arse through her skintight denims, aiding in the grind of their pelvises.

Katie leaned back to peel off Harry's henley shirt and then drew tight to him once more, clearly relishing in running her hands across the muscles in his back.

He felt their leverage change as she leaned into him. The hand that had been holding her up was no longer needed for the task so he snaked it around and started unbuttoning Katie's blouse. She leaned back and slapped the hand.

"What?"

"Guys always try to strip the girl first. It's your turn. I'm not losing a stitch more until you're naked."

"Well, then get off me."

Katie grinned as she dismounted from both Harry and the bench, stepping back to lean against the wall, hands clasped before her. "Well? Get to it."

"Geez, could you, I dunno, give me a beat to strip to or something?"

"No. I just want to watch you take off your clothes for me. Do it slow, but natural."

His eyebrows were raised, but Harry decided to play along. He unlaced his trainers to slip them off, tucking his socks in before kicking them to the side. He then stood up, facing Katie, staring at her as he unbuckled his belt and slid it out from around his waist. He stepped closer to her. With more bluebell flames behind him his skin took on a shadowed, darkened hue.

Katie gulped and then nodded for him to continue.

Harry unbuttoned his denims and splayed open the fabric, showing Katie his briefs, straining to hold in his swollen prick.

He asked in a smoky purr, "All at once, or trousers first?"

"T-trousers, I should think." Katie's hands were busy-one fondling the skin below her collar where it had unbuttoned three of her blouse's eight, and the other rubbing along her hip in a way suggesting that it wanted to be doing this elsewhere on her body- or on his. Her thighs were clamped together, shifting her hips where they leaned against the rock of the smooth cave wall. Her shoes and socks had disappeared somehow when he wasn't looking-he could see painted toenails at the tips of her bare feet.

Harry hooked his hands above the belt loops and pushed his jeans down to mid-thigh, bending forward to pull one leg out and then the other. He tried to keep his eyes on Katie the whole time, but a few balance issues drew his attention. Once he'd stepped out of the trousers, he held them up in front of Katie in one hand, then let the fabric drop.

Katie's eyes followed the clothes. When she looked up at Harry again, he was peeling his briefs down to release his cock.

Katie gasped, not expecting to see the man's prick so soon. She stepped forward, one mutinous hand reaching out to 'catch' the pole as it swung out from Harry's body. Harry was kissing her before she knew it, and she held his manhood in a delicate, appreciative grip.

Harry exhaled, "Your turn."

Katie said, "Not yet." She kissed him again, giving his prick an occasional squeeze to keep it ready. She backed out of his arms and smiled, then dropped to her knees in front of him. She used her grasp on his todger to hold it up in front of her, gazing at it as if appreciating fine jewelry. Her off-hand reached up, grabbed the waistband of his briefs at the back and pulled the fabric down off his arse and down his thighs. Harry took a moment to step out of them, then looked down at Katie. She looked up at him- her face flushed and eyes alight, seeming to ask him, 'Can I?'

Harry reached out to brace his arms against the wall, then gave her a nod. Katie smiled and took her first lick- all along the length. She exhaled a sigh and wrapped her lips around the cock from the side, tongue swirling against the underside of his prick as she inched along from base to tip. Once she slid past his foreskin, her tongue went wild on his prick-tip, lashing it from all sides.

"Aughh... Katie... so good... "

She replied from her throat, "Ehn-hehn!"

Her hand pulled him towards her and she gobbled down his length a good four inches, sucking and licking his cock like a popsicle. Her tongue was active and her lips kept a gentle hold but allowed plenty of saliva to coat his member.

A pulse started in his spine, and Harry grunted a warning. Katie bobbed at best speed for a minute more, then pulled off after she tasted his first spurt of ejaculate. She went back to licking up and down the side of his cock whilst Harry's orgasm shot out onto the rock wall. Katie slowed her pace of licking, until she was simply laying wet kisses along his flagging length.

Katie popped up to standing next to Harry where he was propped on braced arms against the wall, sweating and breathing heavily.

"Well, that was fun. Nice seeing you."

Katie turned away from him but before she could make two steps, Harry had wrapped his arms around her from behind. She yelped in faux-surprise; Harry could feel the bare skin of her belly in his arms. Katie had already unbuttoned her blouse for him.

"Just gonna walk away were you?"

"Not now, I guess!"

Harry made short work of her clothes, pulling her blouse off of her arms, prying off her brassiere, opening and pulling down her jeans and then her knickers, all with one hand whilst the other held her body against him. She had giggled through the process, but let out a gasp that echoed down the tunnel when his hand cupped around her privates and began to rub.

The flesh was wet, swollen and hot and Harry spared no bother to ask how she wanted to be fondled- his fingers slid down to finger her and back up to pinch her clit.

Katie gasped again. And again.

Harry pulled against her breast cupped in his other hand, then shuffled them forward until Katie was facing the cave wall opposite from where they'd started.

"Stand like I did."

She spread her hands on the wall and looked over her shoulder at him. Harry rubbed his hand along her snatch again, sending her eyes rolling. He used the movement of his frigging to force her pelvis to tilt back until it was easier to fondle her from behind. Her breath was loud and ragged.

Harry lined up his re-hardened cock with her moist entry and then slid home, penetrating her from tip to balls in one long but inexorable stroke. Katie called out incoherent protestations, her legs and hips quivering around Harry's buried prick. He kept motionless, allowing Katie to ride through the wave of ecstasy.

When she was ready, he fucked her hard. Her lubrication dripped onto the dirt during his extractions the longer he pounded her. He railed into her, his grip on her arse cheeks leaving red fingerprints in the white flesh. Katie thrashed and moaned but as usual said nothing, even as his climax erupted into her. When he pulled out, she spun around and grabbed his head, snogging him aggressively to show how much she'd enjoyed that.

And then they relaxed into things. The interplay of shadows on skin in the flickering blue light made their love making more of a touch-driven process; at one point Katie laughed heartily when Harry licked his own forearm, having mistaken it for Katie's thigh in their current tangle. He brought her back into the mood in a welcome show of force- a light smack to her spread fanny that nearly caused her to climax.

~o~

They lay in the dust on the floor breathing heavily and happily.

"Ruined me. Again," Katie protested, "You do not know how to go half-way, Harry."

Harry laughed. "There's a name for the papers: Half-way Harry."

"No one would believe it."

"That's what makes it perfect."

Over the next few minutes they dressed, casting a few cleaning charm variants that Harry had learned from Holly; ones effective and/or refreshing but gentle on skin. Katie knew some but was delighted to learn the other two.

Katie warned, "You're going to have to help me walk out of here."

"What a tragedy," Harry teased.

"Oh, not that I'm complaining on the cause!" she amended, "That was fantastic. This was all really enjoyable, Harry."

"I sense a 'however'."

"However... Lee asked me to Hogsmeade this Saturday. I want to go. I think it will help with... things."

"Oh, well, have a good time. I'll stay out of your way- let the gossip hounds think I'm moping over losing you. Not sure I'm going at all at this point. Although... maybe I should, just so that Umbridge has something to take away from me. Any day now she'll be outlawing treacle tart."

"You're okay with that? I think Lee wants to date me. I mean, he does. This would be a date."

"Katie, up until you kissed me last Friday, I thought you already were going out with him. I don't own you or anything. You make your own choices. I just... really like it when we agree." He punctuated the coy reply with a cheesy grin, but stopped when he saw that she was getting scowly.

Katie stared at him for a minute more, then said, "Whatever it is you're really up to, I'd like to help."

Harry looked down into her eyes for a bit, then said, "How's your Shield charm?"

"Eh, not great, but why would that matter?"

"If you're going to help, I want you to be able to defend yourself. Let me show you a few things..."

If Katie was impressed that Harry said that without any hint of innuendo, she was doubly so when Harry was able to correct her form so she could cast a strong and reliable Protego.

They left the entrance to the tunnel separately, but despite Katie's declaration of Lee as her impending boyfriend, she still snogged him good-night like a lover.

~oOo~

Harry hadn't talked to anyone at Grimmauld since they'd laughed at him, but Holly had disappeared again and he really needed an outside perspective. "Sirius Black. This is Harry, calling Sirius Black."

The mirror's reflection of his face faded away, heralded by Sirius' taunting tone; "So the Mad Man of Many Moans calls me once more. Am I forgiven?"

"Sirius, I wasn't angry. I just -- what happened to your hair?"

The image staring back at Harry through the mirror was of a man shaved entirely bald aside from a black handlebar moustache. His eyes were obscured by a set of rose-tinted spectacles. If Harry hadn't heard Sirius' voice he might've thought the man facing him was a complete stranger, maybe even Macnair's ancestor from the 1800's.

"It's how I travel now- in disguise. I've created another identity so I can breathe a free man's air. This is the face of David Edge of Edge Endeavours. I even have a flat in Hogsmeade."

"Is that where you are now? I'd love to visit."

"Meet me Saturday in the Three Broomsticks. We can play cribbage and talk business."

They chatted for a while about happenings, until Harry brought up the reason for the call.

"I'm not sure about this. I like Katie a lot and we have great chemistry, though I guess you could say the same for Cho. But I'm not in love."

Sirius' response was predictable; "Bed 'em both and any other photogenic witch you encounter, Harry, with my blessing. School time is experimental time, where you figure out what you want and what you can do to get it. Enjoy the life while you have it. The food, too; those elves really know how to cook, unlike some miserable Kreachers I know. Oh- that reminds me. Did Ron get those cookbooks?"

"Cookbooks? No. Why would Ron want cookbooks?"

"They're disguised as cookbooks but half of them are really dueling guides and defense texts from the library here. Some of the best works even Holly couldn't find, because I'd hid them. They're not there yet? I sent them with Hedwig a few days ago- before your shocking and deplorable fall from grace was announced, but after it'd happened. It did happen, right?"

Harry ignored the poke as he had a deeper concern."Hedwig hasn't delivered anything in a while. This isn't good."

~o~

Hedwig reappeared a day later, her wing broken and some of her primary and covert feathers scorched black. At the time Harry was in History of Magic so he took Hedwig out of the lecture at once to seek help. He knew Hagrid still hadn't returned from his summertime mission for Dumbledore, so Harry headed to the hospital wing hoping Madam Pomfrey might offer some help. He was intercepted by Professor Snape.

"What are you doing out of class, Potter?"

Feeling a surge of anger, Harry brought up the command mask. The shift afforded him a gratifying perspective- he could talk to Snape as if he were no more important than a rude neighbor. After a pause he stated, "My owl has been injured- she needs a Healer."

"Don't be an idiot, Potter. That bird needs care from an expert in creatures. Take it to Professor Grubbly-Plank. I believe she may still be smoking her stench-weed in the Staff room."

Harry was tempted to open a feeler to see if Snape's mind was accessible, but realised the danger before he could start. Instead he squinted at the man for a moment, said, "Yes, thank you, Professor Snape," and changed course for the Staff room.

At breakfast the next morning, well after all his other, unwanted post had been delivered and destroyed, Harry was visited by a different messenger.

A small black bird landed on the table in front of him. It was holding a rolled scrap of parchment in its beak- a pointy beak at that, tan but tipped red as if it had been stained with blood, though the parchment it held was untinted. After looking at Harry from several angles, the bird dropped its message onto his plate.

On the scrap of paper was written, 'Ceci n'est pas un corbeau'. Not understanding much of French except to recognise it, Harry handed the note across the table to Hermione.

"It says, 'This is not a crow,' which is obvious since this," Hermione then shook the note, "... is a piece of paper. It's a reference to 'Treachery of Images' by Magritte, a Belgian surrealist painter."

The black bird tapped its beak on the table three times.

Harry squinted for a moment, then muttered, "Eh, Hols?"

A single tap this time.

Leaning forward, Harry whispered, "How'd you become a crow?"

The bird extended its wings, fluffed them out, then started in on a succession of clicks, snorts, kaahs and quorks that almost resembled language.

Harry shook his head at the bird and said, "I'm not getting it."

Ron collapsed into the seat next to Hermione and reached out to grab various dishes. As he spooned eggs onto his plate, he said,"Are you trying to talk to birds now?"

"Ron, this isn't just a bird, it's--"

A faceful of black feathers snapped against his nose.

"I mean, yeah, doesn't everyone?"

Harry saw why he'd earned the swat; Umbridge was waddling her way over to interfere.

"Is this your bird, Mr. Potter?" she demanded, "You know students are allowed only a single pet- Miss Granger has a cat, Mr. Weasley here owns some sort of stunted owl; yours is a snowy owl, is it not?"

Harry looked at Hermione, then Ron. "Yeah, Hedwig. She was injured recently. Know anything about that... Professor?"

"Only that it is being cared for by Professor Grubbly-Plank in a terrible misuse of her time. Nonetheless, one pet per student, Mr. Potter."

Ginny moved her plate over to sit down next to Harry, then piped in to correct the professor, "Oh, this bird is mine, Professor Umbridge." She then ruffled the feathers on the bird's neck. "This is... um... Berrybeak."

The bird quorked, side-stepping over to peck at Ginny's plate. It beaked the fork and knife around the dish, hunting for bits of bacon amidst the scrambled egg.

"Strange, having a crow for a messenger bird," commented Madam Umbridge. "Stranger still, that you would own it, Miss Weasley. I had understood that your family couldn't afford such an indulgence."

Ron bristled but Ginny calmly replied, "It didn't cost much at all, not being an owl."

"Oh of course," Umbridge simpered,"Carrion eaters, crows. How fitting."

Ron nearly jumped from his seat but Hermione had gripped his arm well ahead of his reaction.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Madam Umbridge," said Professor Dumbledore. He had approached the conversation quite stealthily, startling everyone when he spoke. He tilted his head back, looking through his half-moon glasses at the bird. "This is not a crow; not precisely."

Harry and his friends shared a look of panic. Was the Headmaster really about to 'out' Holly as an animagus?

Umbridge hadn't noticed their traded looks as she was scowling directly at Professor Dumbledore. "It very much looks and acts like a crow. What else would it be?"

"That is a rook," Dumbledore replied. He gave Harry a knowing look, then added, "Corvus Frugilegus- smartest of the Corvidae, they are known to use makeshift tools to extract insects from their hiding places."

Harry and Ron shook their heads in relief. Ginny slumped in her seat.

Hermione, now at ease, let her curiosity take over. "How could you tell, Professor?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "The legs are shaggier."

The rook on the table cocked its head around, looking at Umbridge and Dumbledore with one eye, then the other. It tapped against the table with its beak, or rather onto the fork at the edge of Ginny's plate. The fork levered upward, flipping its cargo of scrambled eggs into the air to land in Hermione's hair. Unable to contain themselves, all the nearby Gryffindors burst out laughing- aside from Hermione, of course.

Umbridge sneered and strode away.

As she combed the egg out of her hair with her fingers, Hermione muttered, "I hate you."

The rook bowed its head and stood on one claw, tucking its head down and using the other claw to mimic Hermione wiping food from her hair.

Dumbledore then said, "Miss Weasley, I would appreciate the chance to inspect your new companion. Might I borrow her for a bit? No harm shall come to her, I promise."

Ginny looked at the bird. Its wings flared out once, as if to shrug.

She gave Harry a look of apology, then said, "If you insist, Headmaster."

~oOo~

Partway up the rotating staircase to the Headmaster's office, Holly changed shape from rook to ink lizard, now over two feet long from nose to tail-tip.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I suppose I should appreciate that you aren't being coy about your identity."

He strode over to his desk, allowing Holly to climb down from his arm and jump onto a stack of paperwork. She used her tail to flip the top page off the stack and over to the blank side, then wrote, 'I'm not able to write as fast or as legibly with beak or talon.'

Dumbledore turned the paper to read it, nodded and said, "Understood. I'm a bit surprised that you decided to accompany me. You could have flown away."

New text appeared beneath her dancing tail-tip; 'Harry knows I came up here with you. If I then disappear, you'll have lost his trust forever. I assume that means something to you.'

"Of course it means something to me," he said patiently.

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black coughed. Albus looked up and said, "Yes?"

"Most of us can't read what is being written there, Albus. My descendant who aspires to be a dog uses a charmed rock to aid in her vocalisation. Perhaps you could ask how it works and make another?"

Albus blinked. "I find it interesting that you're interested, Phineas. If memory serves, you haven't spoken at all except when the topic has involved your family."

"This one... interests me."

Albus turned back to the desk to see her collection of glyphs and diagrams that she'd etched onto a separate parchment. At the bottom of the page she wrote, 'The Sounding Stone is a modified Clairaudience Catcher- basically a baby monitor made from agate bookends. I came up with this to do transcriptions, adding emotive keys to aid in expression and adjust volume based on word size as well as an amplifying multiplier.'

Albus reviewed the design, making a few noises of satisfaction as he read. "And this jagged line at the bottom- what does that represent?"

Holly added a label next to the graph with the dense shape enclosed within a Sine wave; 'My voice.'

He smiled. "Fascinating. I think we shall have many things to talk about. Would you be willing to come back another time?"

'Depends on how this conversation goes, doesn't it? If only to motivate you, I will say that the not-sleeping thing makes for a lot of alone time.'

"Ah yes, it does." The Headmaster strode over to open a cabinet and browse through its wide selection of mineral samples. He brought several rocks and nuggets back to the desk. Holly nudged apiece of agate away from the rest and wrote below it, 'This is a bit small but workable. I'll stencil it and you can etch it in place, then give it the enchantments to drive it.'

"Why not the amethyst or quartz crystal?"

'Quartz is good for sound quality as the crystals radiate the hum, but that's all. You need layered rock - quartz in different densities or mixed with metal - to act as an amplifier, preferably one where the layers form a smooth curve to match an arc.'

She had been drawing with a claw on the flat edge of the thick geode at the same time she was writing on the paper with her tail. At her direction Albus sliced through the rock with his wand to form a corner, then she scribed esoteric code on the new flat area. Within minutes they had a working model.

The geode corner echoed in a soft but strong voice, "Testing... testing... y'know, I think this one makes me sound more like Lily."

The Headmaster slumped back into his chair. "Yes, it does."

"Feeling spooked? Good. A question for you, Headmaster. Why is Harry so ill-prepared?"

Albus gave her a mild look of reproach and said, "Hogwarts is a school, not a military academy. The value of the education here is roughly equal to the effort invested. Mr. Potter is a capable student, but not the most diligent."

"You ass, I'm talking about the conflict, not how you administrate in absentia."

Several of the portraits offered protests and blustering. Phineas could be heard saying, "I'm beginning to regret my suggestion."

Dumbledore quieted them with a raised hand, then said, "Miss Evans, I had hoped we would have a more cordial discussion."

"You and I haven't really met before, aside from assorted drumhead trials, so let me clue you in; I am not Lily anymore. I'm Holly. Prickly. Poisonous. Able to endure hardship. Flourishes in the dark and cold of winter. Harry now has two souls protecting him; I'm the angry one."

"I... see."

"Not yet you don't. This is me being cordial. As such, I'll give you another clue: I don't find you charming."

"At this point, I would say the feeling is mutual."

"Good. My question may have been too broad, so let me put it this way; why is it that Harry hasn't heard the prophecy yet?"

"He didn't seem ready." The Headmaster sighed. "I have paid close attention to his life since coming to Hogwarts, but I prefer not to interfere in a person's ability to make their own choices. Harry has impressed me with every choice he's made, when it was important enough. He's a good boy, well on his way to becoming a good man."

"But not a great one. He wasn't motivated by his fate, because he didn't realise his importance. I'd say you were guiding his choices very carefully, only presenting the information he'd need for the crisis of the moment. This has left him capable enough tactically and yet completely at a loss as a strategist. If I were a suspicious person, I'd think you were trying to limit his influence on magical society and leave him dependent on you for guidance on what matters."

"You have a very interesting way of looking at the world. Let me ask you the same question from the opposite side; how would you feel about my choices if I had sequestered Harry starting from the night he was orphaned and raised him to be an assassin- the perfect weapon to use against Voldemort, should he return? I would be a monster for doing that to a child, particularly if my beliefs about Voldemort's survival and eventual return were proven incorrect."

"I suppose I'd be yelling at you for that, instead. The point isn't to get you to admit your guilt, after all."

"Then, may I ask, what is the point?"

"Establishing my credentials- I'm a mother of a hero and very invested in Harry's future; I have insights and quite a bit else to offer. Please treat me with respect."

"I will say, once more, that I am sorry if I have misjudged you. Would you answer a few questions for me?"

"Like?"

The Headmaster sat back in his chair, several decades of fatigue appearing to settle over him.

"How is Harry? Is he... happy?"

"Harry is growing. His vision is expanding. He's seeing more and thinking more. I know he's feeling more, as I've put him through a rollercoaster these past weeks; ecstasy, tragedy, confusion, relief, frustration..."

Albus chuckled. "If you were hoping to catch up on fourteen years' absence in his life, I give you full marks for the execution."

"Finally, someone gets it."

"Now for the question I'd rather not ask; how are you?"

"I'm," was echoed, but then Holly walked off the parchment. The Headmaster soon lost track of her and started shuffling through the books and papers on his desk.

A minute later the stone echoed, "Sorry. Wasn't expecting that question. You're warmer than your counterpart, the one I... fought with more often than not. I'm fine. How are you?"

"Now, Miss Evans, I'd hope that you'd not dismiss the question as a simple courtesy."

"I've been bloody liquid up until this morning. If I miss my jump onto a bookbag it takes me hours to climb up the staircases, and I'm forced to contest or evade the vermin, foul spirits and escaped animations that roam the halls the whole way up- and of course Harry dorms in a tower.

"I write whenever I can and I have a lot to say but I'm running out of ideas specifically for Harry quite simply because he's actually fifteen years old, in body, mind and soul. He needs the time to read and live and experience and then reflect so he can integrate all that into his character."

"Ah. I was hoping you had realised his limitations."

"Not just his- it's our limitation as well."

"Still, as his mother I wouldn't have expected you to hasten--"

"I am NOT his mother." The capitals were vocalised with a sharp tone of anger.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You'd better beg! Lily-who-was-his-mother is still protecting Harry. You will not insult her sacrifice or her efforts to suggest that I'm her or that she's me."

"I apologise again, for offending you."

"You didn't-- you're offending HER, I'm just pointing it out. Now, you were saying something about Harry's mother not wanting to rush him through puberty?"

"That is where I was going, yes."

"Life during wartime cuts many a childhood short. It sucks. It's cruel. Nonetheless, he needs to wake up and smell the battlefield promotion. So do you."

"And, if I may be so bold, how does awakening his sexual urges help us?"

"Positive reinforcement- leadership has its rewards, too. It shifts his perspective into seeing himself as more of an adult. Also, it's a nifty way to strike at Riddle without it seeming to be on purpose."

"I would liken that to throwing rocks at a wasps nest."

"Angry enemies make mistakes and waste energy. Stir the nest often enough and the wasps don't have the resources to build up a bigger nest. And it's quite fun. I'm not seeing a downside."

"I suppose there's no point in arguing about it, as it has been done and won't happen again in your current state."

"Maybe not with me, but Harry's getting some attractive attention. You're right though- no point in discussing it. Let's talk about your plans for the war."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "Impressed as I am with your unique nature, I am still not willing to simply trust you."

"You're not willing to simply trust anyone. It's going to kill us, you having a stranglehold on the important aspects of Harry's and Riddle's interlocked destiny. I want us to win but more than that I want Harry to live. Can you say the same?"

"So, you actually believe in destiny?"

"Yes, just as you do."

"I? Not entirely. What meaning would choice have if our fates were determined before we ever were born? Surely, you must also believe in the freedom of choice or you wouldn't be questioning my choices. Why would you say that you believe in fate?"

"What a ridiculous question. You're asking me why I have faith in a greater design? Because I see a greater design! That's the answer to every question of faith. I believe what I see, because I see what I believe."

"Yes, but why?"

"BECAUSE IF I DIDN'T IT MEANS I'VE SUFFERED FOR NOTHING!"

"Ah, so you've suffered."

Holly's tail tapped against the table several times but no ink was forthcoming. Instead, she ambled over to the corner of the desk where a shallow depression was carved to hold an inkwell. Her ink body convulsed as if she were vomiting, but what came out of her mouth was a strand of pale luminous fiber. She'd shrunk by a fourth in the process, having used up considerable resources in the act.

The headmaster snatched a small bowl from a nearby shelf and caught the strand in it before it could slip off the edge of his desk. "A memory. Of what?"

"Suffering," recited the geode on the parchment, "It's how I lost the fragment of soul in my scar. Also my worst memory, so you may have gotten a third-hand account of it from your agent provocateur."

He gave the swirling memory a doubtful look."Perhaps I should review this later."

Her tail whipped around to answer, "Perhaps you should seek me out for our next conversation after you've seen it because until you do we have nothing to talk about. This is important, Albus."

With that Holly changed back into a rook, though now no larger than a chickadee.

Professor Dumbledore stared at the bird for a moment. He gave her a conciliatory nod then gestured for the window facing the Quidditch pitch to open. Holly accepted the courtesy with a dip of her beak and then flew out the opening into the day.

Albus looked back at the parchment of their conversation. Only the last line was still written there, with the Sounding Stone standing close by.

This is important, Albus.

~oOo~

Though relieved to see 'Berrybeak' return from Dumbledore's office, Harry found her transformation from bird to ink newt strangely unsettling. Holly then added to his discomfort.

"So, how was Katie the second time?" the Sounding stone recited for her.

Harry scowled at her for a moment, then replied,"Delightful. It was nice to make love with someone without feeling like I was struggling to keep up."

"She broke up with you? Or are you strictly casual?"

"Kinda both. Wait- how did you know?"

"You answered by defending yourself rather than her."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"It does if you say it. Pax, love. I'm just asking to make sure you're not hurting more than you need to be. I like this Katie, and I know you like her, too."

"Yeah, I do. She's a good friend. Good student, too. Worked out my confused explanation of the Shield charm. Why is it so much harder to teach a spell to someone else?"

"Teaching challenges you to know more about the subject than what you're trying to impart to the student. Most people only pick up a third of what you're actually saying even if they're paying attention, and that's if they heard you right and you said something close to what you meant to say. That's why you have to reinforce your point at least three times. Teaching is a great way to learn as well, if you're open to it. How did Katie react when she got the spell right?"

Harry blushed. "Same smile as after she... y'know." A pang of regret passed through him- he probably wouldn't see that look in her face again. "Maybe I should offer to teach her a few more spells. I could teach Cho something, too."

"Is Cho even relevant? I mean, yeah, she might have some influence in the school at the moment, but I can't tell if she's got a brain beneath her 'shimmering curtain of ebony'. Never seemed one to stand up for anything.'

"What about Cedric?" Harry offered,"Cho has strong feelings about that."

'It's not hard to believe strongly in 'I wish Cedric wasn't dead'. What else makes her interesting?'

"I dunno. I just think... I'd like to think she's worth a chance."

"Your call. If you want to challenge her into being someone, try this on her..."

~o~

Harry saw Cho outside the Great Hall the next morning. She was paying close heed to Roger Davies as he regaled a few fellow Ravenclaws with stories of his life as a Quidditch Captain. She had her arm hooked around his, her hand cupped around his bicep quite possessively. Harry caught a stray thought leaking from her when she glared at his passing- 'That's right Potter; I've got the Head Boy's attention!'

When he saw her in the hallway leaving Charms class, Harry pulled her away from her friend Marietta and whispered in her ear,"Don't sell yourself short. You're worth more than which wizard's arm you're clutching."

"I don't see as it's your business who I'm seeing," she replied icily.

And she totally walks right into it. Hols is scary sometimes.

Harry squinted at her, then whispered, "I don't care who you see. I just hate to see you waste time worrying about boys when our school is being strangled by Umbridge. 'Hogwarts is burning down but isn't this a lovely bangle on my wrist?' Sort your priorities. I thought you were more than just pretty."

"I... you...!!"

Harry shrugged and shook his head as he walked into the classroom.

They next met in Hogsmeade; Cho intercepted Harry just after his quite public and innocuous cribbage game in the Three Broomsticks with Ron and 'David Edge'. She pulled him towards the alley but not far enough for people to think they were doing anything but arguing.

"Don't talk to me like I'm pygmy-puff-for-brains Lavender Brown. I'm horrified by what's happening here. I don't see getting detention after detention from Umbridge has done you any good. In fact... you look like shite."

"I've been busy, and I'm not sleeping well."

"If you're so much more involved, what are you planning to do about her? What would you be doing if you were me?"

"Many things. Won't say what because I'm no fool. Just 'cause you say you're concerned doesn't prove anything. For all I know, you're her agent."

"I would never ally with that horrid toad!"

"Didn't think so, but I have nothing to go by but instinct. Show me something."

"Like what?"

"Well, people like and admire you, they'll listen to you. What do you have to say to them?"

Cho paused, then nodded. "I'll think of something."

He nodded in agreement.

"By the way, Potter."

"Yeah?"

"The way you're talking to me, now? I like it." An attractive blush brightened her cheeks.

Harry smiled. He remembered to leave her the last word and strolled off to catch up with his friends at the sweet shop.

~oOo~

Ginny was pleased to see Berrybeak as she flew into the Great Hall on Sunday morning, even though she was soaked from the rainstorm they could see through the ceiling. The small black bird carried a note for her. She unwrapped and read it; her heart pumped a little faster with both eagerness and dread.

'Time for training. Borrow Harry's Sounding Stone and then head for Myrtle's loo.'

Ginny glared at the bird and said, "You couldn't have chosen anywhere else?"

The rook let out a 'Kahh' and fluffed her wings out- Berrybeak's version of 'Deal with it'.

Making her way back to the bathroom where so much of her first year had been swallowed into a diary was not just a simple stroll, but Ginny faced it with determination. Holly would know what she was asking of her by arranging to meet there- she took the challenge as proof of Holly's faith in her.

Still, Ginny wasn't unaffected. Once a parchment and the Sounding stone were solidly placed on a shelf above the sinks, she asked warily, "We're not going down to the Chamber, are we?"

The Stone's inscriptions lit up blue. "Not today," Holly's voice echoed, "Not until you're ready, I promise."

Ginny took a cleansing breath. "So, what are you going to teach me?"

"How to hurt people."

"How are you gonna teach me that? You're either ink or a bird. Even as a person you couldn't cast spells."

"And yet I nearly killed Draco on the train. I'm not talking about hexes and curses. I'm talking about tuning your body into an expression of your magic. Have you ever thought what would happen if you jumped off the Astronomy tower?"

"No- I'd get killed!"

"And yet in Quidditch we fly around faster than autos on the expressway, periodically being pelted by animated cannon balls."

"Okay, maybe it wouldn't kill me but I'd at least break some limbs."

"If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn't."

"You're saying I'll be able to fly?"

"No. You'll be able to land on your feet and, once you've unstuck them from the sod, walk away. You think Hagrid would be able to do that?"

"Sure maybe, but he's half-giant."

"Tell you a secret- it's a theory I have. You ever wonder how the first giant came about?"

Ginny shook her head.

"I think the first giant was a wizard who just wanted with all his heart to be big and tough."

"I wouldn't want to be ugly and stupid, though."

"Which is why we'll skip big and concentrate on tough, and without trying to make it permanent. Just enough to make your muscles and bones strong as titanium."

"Self-transfiguration? But that's like... post-NEWT material!"

"No- see, this is where everyone goes off the beam. You don't need them to BE titanium, just strong enough not to tear apart or break like something weaker."

"How can I do that?"

"Know and accept that it is possible, as I have already trod this path. Then, start pushing yourself so you get comfortable with what you can do. We'll start with jumping around and sticking to walls. Take off your shoes and socks. The spell you need to cast is 'Arachnitacta'- meaning spider-touch. The wand movement is an upright Parson's three-quarter and then a tap on your head at the'-tacta'."

Ginny sat on the floor to pull off her trainers and stockings, also leaving her robe behind to allow her the freedom of movement afforded by close-fitting muggle clothes- a white undervest and denims in this case. "Why'd you use the left-handed terms?"

"They're more precise in identifying the movements. Up until Declinius Darrow mapped out their transpositions, all the wandwork was expressed like 'swish and flick'- assuming that a right-handed person would take the obvious path moving from center to outreach without specifying 'clockwise' or 'wandpoint upward'. A lot of shoddy wandwork is the result."

"Alright, but why is it shoddy?"

"Because the wand gets dizzy if your instructions to it are backwards or confusing."

Ginny was about to cast when she stopped short and looked at the wand in her hand. "You should be teaching all of us."

"I prefer tutoring- working one on one. It sharpens the focus. Also, I have some interesting techniques that don't work well in a classroom. Ways to keep you... motivated."

"That sounds frightening."

"Really? I was shooting for sexy."

Ginny tapped her head to finish the spider-touch spell, then tried to put her wand away. It was stuck to her fingers. "Um, help?"

"Yeah, that's the funny part- you have to figure out how to mentally release your hold. It makes for a very educational day of learning to sense your own body."

Ginny scowled and then stuck out her tongue. Then she discovered that her tongue couldn't retract past her lips. "MMMMM!"

"Good luck. I'll be here. Laughing."

Ginny found it a small comfort that Holly didn't actually write out laughter for the Stone to vocalise.

But then Myrtle showed up to laugh as well.

~oOo~

For Harry's Sunday, he finally got a chance to practice Quidditch with the team, though they were beset by heavy rains for all four hours of practice. None of the team was particularly happy with their performance, especially as there was only a week before the first game.

Harry had showered in the changing room by the pitch-partly for the relief of hot water to counter the cold rain but also hoping that Katie had made a similar choice. He was the sole straggler, however, and trudged back to Gryffindor tower clean but frustrated. He said hellos as he crossed the common room, heading straight to his dorm for some privacy.

When he got there and turned to close the door, he found Hermione standing right behind him.

"I've been thinking--"

Harry held up a hand to interrupt. "Does this have anything to do with Katie?"

"Not exactly though of course it would apply to her even if she wasn't taking the class still, which she is. Katie did mention that her Shield charm was much stronger now, which is what prompted--"

"Hermione, please, embrace pithiness."

Her eyes popped wide. "Someone's been expanding their vocabulary!"

"Yea, verily. Whaddya want?"

Hermione took a seat at the edge of his bed and then said, "Defence isn't being taught by Umbridge- you should teach it, clandestinely. We could arrange for a way to keep it secret, and I estimate that at least half of our year in most Houses would be willing to learn from you. The OWLs are coming up and anyone with half a brain--"

Harry gaped. "OWLs? You're worried about OWLs?"

"You heard all the professors at the beginning of term. This is a critical year in our education, Harry."

"Hermione, is this, what we're doing- the UA; do you consider it an extra-curricular activity?"

"No, of course not! I'm still a student, though, as are you. We are here to learn. Exams are how we gauge our success at that learning."

Harry blinked several times. He stared at her long enough to unnerve the witch.

She shrank back and said, "What'd I say?"

"Hermione, I'll have considered myself successful if we leave this school alive. It'd be great if you could maybe focus on that, instead."

The witch squinted at him. "What are you suggesting? Does this have something to do with Holly? You know I don't trust her."

"Really?She thinks the world of you."

"Then why'd she toss eggs into my hair?"

"She was aiming for Umbridge!" Harry explained, "But she didn't get enough force out of the fork. Which reminds me- Holly asked me to give you a present, if ever I heard you bad-mouthing her again. Do you want it?"

Hermione crossed her arms with a huff. "What is it- laughing gas? Hair treatment? A charm to make me lose my inhibitions?"

Harry smiled and gestured for her to wait, then shuffled through his trunk for a minute. He popped up and handed her a loose collection of pages in a folder bound by a ribbon labeled 'Kittyhawk'. He stood in front of her to hand her the sheaf.

Hermione took the packet, holding it at the corners with her fingertips as if it might be infectious. "Why would she give these to me?"

"Read one."

Untying the ribbon, Hermione opened the folder. The top page was a diagram for a set of Quidditch goggles adapted into a version of Omni-oculars that could also masquerade as thick-rimmed round spectacles, including a list of spells for their enchantment. At the lower left corner was scribed, 'All rights reserved 1995 - Granger, H.J. (Kh); LoM, Inc.'

"I've never seen this before in my life." She then fell silent as she inspected the diagrams. Page after page of notes followed, and not just for the eyewear. As Hermione scanned through them a second time, Harry could see she was beginning to breathe rather deeply.

"Is something the matter?"

"I... I don't understand- why does it have my name on it already? How could she... Harry, this makes no sense. Some of these things are mine! Or they should be, as they're based on ideas that I've had floating around for years!"

"It/is/ your work, but from her timeline. Get it?"

Hermione paled. "She really is a time traveler?"

"Yeah. Not backwards so much as sideways."

"Oh, and of course she's willing to tamper with our... our..." Hermione tapered off as she read through another page, this one sporting a diagram for what appeared to be a magical voice recorder.

"Looks like. Don't get all high and mighty about it- you and I did a bit of tampering two years ago and that worked out fine, for us and for Sirius. And Hermione, note that she didn't take credit for your ideas, either. This was her Hermione's inventions and Holly felt that only you ought to have them, even if only to draw inspiration. In fact, you may have to correct her work. Some of the notes are vague as she had to write them up from memory. You'll need to... uhh... interpolate."

Hermione looked up at Harry with a near-crazed expression.

"Alright there, Hermione?"

She stood up, wrapped one arm around his shoulders and squeezed until he squeaked. Then she relaxed the embrace and leaned back to look up at him.

"I need your glasses."

Before he could blink, she'd taken them off his face and skipped out of the room, the sheaf of parchment held tightly to her chest.

"Umm... okay? Guess I'll take a kip."

~oOo~

The next Saturday had come, as Saturdays always did. Most Saturdays were a welcome occasion, worth a party or two, but this Saturday had sat on the calendar, threatening Ron with its looming happening-ness.

First Quidditch game of the year- Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Always. Ron sat next to the toilet in the dorm loo, having vomited for the first time in years- since the slugs, pretty much. His unsettled stomach and the memory of slugs hit him with a Saturday-powered punch, and he threw up again.

Harry popped his head into the room and said,"I'd say 'let's have brekkers', but..."

"Not today. Blimey, Harry- how do you do it? Go out in front of everyone when you're just as likely to soil yourself as anything."

"Usually it happens before I know it's going to. Other times... I vomit in the loo while waiting."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I never have much more than toast on game days. No point."

"That's right- Hermione always nags you about it before a match. I get it, now. Wow. That's really educational. Y'know, I think that does it for me for the day--"

"Off yer arse, Ron! You'll get kicked out of Gryffindor if you don't even show up. Besides- you've got to see this lion's head hat that Luna made- it makes a great roar. Just brilliant."

~o~

The Gryffindor Quidditch team exited their shack to approach the stadium, cheered on by dozens from their House and others.

Ron had wavered at the door. The Slytherins had been doing some sort of chant mentioning Weasleys, and he had a sinking feeling it was about him.

He was intercepted then by Hermione, who took his hand and put a small soft lump of something in his palm. She said, "Now, this will help--"

Ron popped it into his mouth, only to have Hermione smack the back of his head. He swallowed the nub and scowled at her. "That tastes horrid!"

She held up a second nub and said, "It goes in your ear, Ron!"

"Oh." He put the little peach nub into his ear, then mounted his broom to get set for the toss-up.

By the time Professor Hooch had tossed up the quaffle, Ron was in position to guard the Gryffindor hoops. He was also cackling like a madman.

Hermione had enchanted the earplug in a way he would never have expected from the staid, nearly-repressed girl. Any noise being made by someone wearing green sounded to him like a bleating sheep.

It was a struggle not to fall off his broom laughing, particularly at the singing from the Slytherins.

"Baah baah BAAAH meh Meehhh Bahh meeeehhhh,

"Mbaah bahh BAAhh buh Meehh Baah BAAAA!"

Angelina had caught the toss and passed to Alicia, then yelled at him, "Watch it, Ron!" He cackled but nodded, shifting to dodge an incoming bludger.

His sense of the absurd was so irresistibly engaged that Keeping was almost a side entertainment; one that he performed fairly well as he had no anxiety left to distract his playing.

What's more, his cackling was driving the Slytherin players up a tree.

~o~

Angelina pulled up sharply on her broom, glaring at Harry. "What's with the time-out?"

"I've been watching their plays- they aren't scoring as often because Katie is being targeted."

"Don't I know it," Katie exhorted as she worked her arm in a circle, hoping to loosen her battered shoulder muscles.

"Yeah; any time they can legally knock a bludger at her, they do. That's why their passes are slow if Katie can intercept. Also, for as much as Ron is driving them batty they've hardly tried to knock him out. Oliver would've dodged twice as many bludgers by this point."

Alicia Spinnet looked to her fellow chaser with concern. "We should keep Katie out of the plays and maybe shift her to a defense--"

"No! We can use this," Angelina insisted,"Katie stays in the center of action but passing as much as possible."

Katie warned, "We'll lose the Quaffle twice as much."

"Not if Harry is breaking their intercepts.'Oops- guess that wasn't the snitch'- they'll think you're trying to protect her but that's NOT your job. By the way, Katie, he's not trying to protect you, so keep your eyes out for bludgers. You're just a transfer point- you assist while Alicia and I concentrate on scoring. If anyone sees Malfoy making a real snitch rush, yell at Harry so he can break off."

Ron said, "Sounds like the tactic Tutshill used on Pride of Portree in their last match." He then cackled but suppressed it when Angelina glared at him.

"Alright? We'll give it a try."

Harry gave Fred and George a look, so they paused while the rest moved back into position. He smiled and said, "You know where the trolls will be aiming- break some heads. Bludger optional."

George teased, "For not being your girlfriend, you certainly care quite a bit."

"This isn't about that. The snakes have been abusing everyone since start of term. On the pitch the Quidditch rules supersede the school ones. We can hurt them up here. Let's do that."

"Any idea why Ron's gone insane?" asked Fred.

"Uh, no, but it's working for him so let's not screw with it."

~o~

"That's another tough cobbing for Goyle, but he looks to be shaking it off," Lee Jordan announced, "Gryffindor uses the opening for another passing attack on the Slytherin hoops!"

Harry returned to the outer orbit from another false-snitch formation breaker. Malfoy was lapping on the opposite side of the pitch. There was a flash of gold--

"Bell gets the pass and it's just her and keeper Bletchley. She's such a grand chaser I could just kiss her-- she makes the toss-- BLOODY HELL!"

Harry turned at Lee's exclamation and the crowd's cry of mass sympathy- he could see a tumble of green and red robes falling to the pitch in front of the Slytherin hoops. He ignored the possible hint of snitch and dove down.

Lee's voice became somewhat hollow in his reporting; "Bletchley and Bell are down-- Bletchley's broom had shot forward and impaled Katie Bell through the chest, sending both players falling in a tangle. Hooch has called time and Madam Pomfrey is looking them over."

Harry let his mask sink into place, repressing worry, fear, anger and bewilderment to focus on the facts. Another fact made itself known when Malfoy called out from above him, "Looks like Miles has ruined her for you. Stupid cow couldn't tell which hole to take his broomstick and ended up skewered."

Harry turned to face him as he descended a bit.

"Tongue-tied again? Why am I not surprised- it's been stuck up her swamp, hasn't it? Or are you more of a bog-hole man?"

Harry gathered with the rest of the team as they waited on Madam Pomfrey- Bletchley had roused quick enough, claiming his broom's braking charm failed- possibly due to a Gryffindor hex. Madam Hooch called it as over-aggressive play and gave Gryffindor two penalty shots, but that was cold comfort as they watched Katie being levitated away on a stretcher.

Ginny offered to step in as relief Chaser, but the Slytherins told Hooch they were denying Gryffindor the courtesy, forcing them to play 6-on-7, 'until Bell recovers'.

Angelina gathered them for their time-out.

"We can still win this- we're ahead forty and--"

"No," Harry stated.

"What's your problem, Potter?"

It would've taken too long to explain; the coordination of plays; the lack of comment from Umbridge on Harry's affairs; an arrangement of tarot cards that was mirrored in one of Harry's rare non-nightmarish dreams...

This is our last game of the year- Umbridge will make sure of it.

He said, "They've taken out one of ours, but figure that our sense of honour will keep us from doing anything but play harder. Win or lose, they'll be itching for a fight, one for which we'll be blamed."

"Maybe, but I'm not gonna give up--"

"So I say give them what they expect. Gryffindor honour." Harry then gave Ron and the twins a look and a gesture that each acknowledged with a solemn nod.

Angelina scowled. "Well that was a whole lot of useless. Let's get back into it. We switch to pure defense and Harry- find that bloody snitch."

"On it."

~o~

Harry behaved himself, orbiting high on the pitch and out of the way of the action. Blameless. The Weasleys, by contrast, had run up a significant number of penalties, to the point that Gryffindor's forty point lead had become a twenty point deficit.

Goyle's face was smashed in, though he looked no worse nor stupider for it. Pucey was suffering balance issues from an ear-popping double hit to the head. Their captain Montague was clutching to his broom, most of his back having suffered deep bruising from a series of kicks enhanced to horse-strength by Ron's Cleansweep. Angelina had screamed herself hoarse trying to rein in the suddenly-vicious Weasley brothers. But Harry had behaved.

Malfoy spotted the snitch and Harry kicked his Firebolt into action. Malfoy had the advantage of position, but the snitch vectored towards Harry in a welcome moment of coincidental cooperation. Harry and Malfoy drew alongside in pursuit of the whizzing ball flying scant yards beyond their reach. The Firebolt hummed in his hands but Malfoy held onto half a broomlength's advantage.

They banked, they swerved and Harry's fortunate turn came back on him when the snitch kicked left with Harry on Malfoy's right. The Slytherin was a yard behind it with Harry trailing at his bristles.

Harry saw his opportunity. He goaded the Firebolt to its actual full speed (as if Malfoy on a Nimbus 2001 would outpace him- hah!). He jumped ahead, sliding so close to Malfoy...

He grabbed Malfoy's robes, spun his Firebolt to drag the other broom out of vector and scraped Malfoy directly into a goalpost. A resounding CRACK was followed by a frenetic whistle-blowing, but Harry had caught the snitch just beyond the collision. This game was over.

~o~

Everyone from Slytherin was shouting and arguing around Madam Hooch- those that could. Malfoy's jaw had proven to be less durable than his broom, and Goyle's facial wounds revealed their severity when his right eye popped out of socket following a heavy cough. Both were taken to hospital in Pomfrey's care.

The Gryffindors were waiting for the final judgement. Angelina and Alicia grumbled at the boys but they were ignoring the witches by checking out Ron's earpiece. George had joined an extendable ear to the nub and the team burst into laughter when they heard the bellows of many anxious sheep echoing from Ron's hand.

It was only after they'd lost 80 House points and got 2 weeks detentions apiece did the boys realize that Professor McGonagall had been yelling at them. Her green tartan robes had been misidentified by the earpiece as an enemy colour and thus her voice was translated into an angry goatish Scots burr.

~oOo~

Ginny strolled into the hospital wing, stopped briefly by Madam Pomfrey to be reminded about the lifelong punishments due to anyone who might prey upon the wounded. Ginny assured her that her purpose was solely altruistic. Perhaps just because Pomfrey was impressed she knew the word, Ginny was allowed in.

She sidled behind the privacy curtain to find Katie looking quite happy to see her, if a bit anxious. The girl was pale and her eyes were sunken, but she was awake and lucid.

"Hey, Katie. What's happening?"

"That's what (cough) I was going to ask. No one visits? No flowers? No cards?"

Ginny sat down next to her and handed her the cup of ice chips from the side table. "Due to continued hostilities, the High Inquisitor has declared that all correspondence, packages and visitations from either House to the hospital have been suspended. I'm training with Pomfrey so I'm an exception, as long as I behave." Ginny then surreptitiously tucked an envelope under Katie's covers while giving her a devious smile.

"Continued hostilities?"

"Oh, it's been a yo-yo weekend. We won the match but the team's been eviscerated. Only Angie and Alicia are still allowed to play, since Umbridge trumped the 'pitch rules aren't school rules' rule and had my brothers and Harry banned from playing ever again. She's seized their brooms, too. Chained them up in her office so she can gloat about it."

"No! That sodd- (cough) sodding cow!"

"The other tossers on the Slytherin team recovered well enough since none of them suffered a collapsed lung due to being stabbed by a broom. Malfoy's jaw will be spelled shut for the week, but that's considered a blessing in all Houses and staff rooms, I'm sure. Strangely, Miles Bletchley has suffered a series of mishaps that have left him bald and babbling nonsense."

"How is that strange? It sounds like classic Weasley work."

"We didn't do it. I think it might actually be the work of a Ravenclaw. It's mild on the punishment side yet resistant to curatives. Fine work... but you never heard me say it."

"Gotcha."

"Speaking of unusual pranksters, Ron kissed Hermione in the common room after the match- she'd enchanted an earplug so he'd hear bleating sheep instead of that stupid song."

"So that's why he was acting mad as a hatter. What'd Granger do?"

"Whacked him on the head with a textbook. Wasn't happy he kissed her in front of everyone, y'see. Still, they're dating now."

"I give it... four months."

"I'll tell George to save you the bet. So, if they even let us field a team again, I'm the new Seeker. Vicky Frobisher will grace us with her awesomeness as a Keeper. Couple more girls to play Beater and we'll look like the Holyhead junior squad. Just need you to get well. Alright?"

"Working on it."

"Oh, and I have a message from Harry."

"Yeah?"

"He asks, 'How's your hoops?' He said I'm supposed to wink at you when I say it." Ginny then winked at her in an uncanny impersonation of Gilderoy Lockhart.

Katie laughed. Even though she suffered a bit of pain from it both girls felt it was worth it. By the time Ginny left Katie's colour was coming back.

~o~

Late that night Katie had a second visitor. Harry appeared out of nowhere, cast some silencing charms and then snogged her silly. They said little but communicated all sorts of cares and concerns in their kisses.

Sadly, she'd ruined the moment when her still-healing lung had a coughing attack, rousing the healer and chasing Harry back into the nowhere. That pain was worth it, too.

~oOo~

Dolores Umbridge was fuming.

She'd traipsed around the grounds for an hour before finding the Magical Creatures class, owing to a missive - one she /never/sent - telling Professor Grubbly-Plank that she wished to evaluate the class within Greenhouse Six due to the weather- the weather! It was sunny and dry!

The message from the Minister indicated that her suggestion to make an Educational Decree to enforce the dress codes was mistaken to mean that she wanted to personally inspect every student for what they wore under their robes. That was NOT what she'd written. The fact that Cornelius suggested that it was 'too soon' was perversely encouraging, but the fact was, her message had been tampered with after she'd sealed it!

Then there was the owl from Gringotts asking to confirm her written order to transfer another 199 Galleons into the Werewolf Rights Political Action fund- she'd never ordered nor would she even consider such a thing! She'd written a strongly-worded reply that they must cancel any such orders, retrieve any prior 'contributions' and only accept transfer orders as delivered by her house-elf, then sent the sealed message just that way.

And someone was breaking her kitty plates!

Some of it must be Dumbledore- the changes were too subtle to be coming from children. What's worse is that her own error-correcting quills, seals and safety charms were being superseded, and without any detectable spellwork! Even for Dumbledore, it should have been ... IMPOSSIBLE!

It was her food that tipped her off to the Headmaster's involvement. Only he could command the house-elves to lie. Muggly, her personal elf had served her bland food for the last week- before that, everything from the kitchens tasted vaguely of ham and nothing else, even the pumpkin juice. When she'd protested, the head kitchen elf - Queezy - had explained that her food was the same as everyone else's- that lying little worm! Even sampling a bit from Professor Vector's plate yielded nothing but the cloying, greasy flavour of pork. She used to like pork. Now she ate gruel, plain yoghurt or bleached rice and drank water sourced from her own wand.

The last suspicious occurrence was the delivery of a package of maggots and flies in a bon-bon box. This, at least, she could blame on students, though how it made it into her thoroughly-charmed office was still a mystery.

The unnerving part, the part she would never mention to the healer, Pomfrey, or anyone else for that matter, was when she had opened the box to a faceful of flying insects, and then saw the writhing mass of maggots left within. Dolores had caught a scent from them. They'd smelled so sweet, so mouth-wateringly delicious... and she had been so hungry for something that didn't taste like pig...

~o~

Holly watched as the Defence professor succumbed to her adjusted palate once more, gorging herself on a fresh bowl of larvae delivered by Umbridge's trusted house-elf, Muggly.

The fat woman sat back, aghast at her own actions, weeping quietly as she attempted but failed to hold back the urge to vomit. Holly crawled behind a gilded plate mounted above the door; one with a particularly charming and frisky calico painted in it, and nudged the dish off the wall. The china fell almost silently, crying out at the last second with a fearful 'Mrowr--?' as it shattered on the floor. The plate could be repaired, but the kitty would need to be repainted for it to move on its own again.

Umbridge seethed, "D-damn you, Potter!"

~oOo~