Chapter 091
And why? Harry wondered. Why wasn't the school doing
something about this? Did they lack the funding to buy
better brooms? Or was there some other reason he
couldn't determine? Either way, something would have to
be done. Children their age shouldn't be using such
dangerous equipment.
The Slytherins were already outside, huddling together a
ways off. Most of them seemed to be listening to Draco
who told everyone that it was travesty that first years
weren't allowed to bring a broom, and how much better
their Quidditch team would be if he was allowed to join.
Harry did notice that while many of the Slytherins were
paying rapt attention to the boy, Blaise, Daphne and
Tracey looked almost bored to tears.
The three were standing at the edge of the crowd, and
while to the average eye it looked like they were paying
attention to everything Draco said, he could easily see
they were only pretending.
Blaise's expression looked the same as it always did, that
being a general look of aloofness and distance. However,
Harry could see the hard lines around his eyes. They
made him look slightly strained, as if he was just barely
resisting the urge to roll them.
Surprisingly enough Harry could not get a read on the
pretty blond next to the dark-skinned pureblood. Daphne
Greengrass' expression was, as always, colder than a
winters night in Antarctica. And yet, while her expression
remained the same, her stance betrayed her irritation. Her
arms were crossed and she was putting more weight on
her right leg than her left, which he had been able to
notice through her thick school robes due to the way her
figure tilted. The crossing of her arms, her distance, and
the stance she assumed were often signs of someone
who was annoyed.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Tracey Davis was not masking her
boredom at all. Everything from her stance to the annoyed
look in her eyes to the way she was nearly scowling at
Draco told Harry that she was not at all pleased with the
blond boy's bragging.
This did not surprise Harry one bit. He knew that Tracey
Davis was not a pureblood but a half-blood. Her father
was a pureblood from a minor house, and her mother was
a muggleborn that her father married shortly after they
graduated from Hogwarts. Given that her father had gone
against tradition and was considered the black sheep of
his family, it would make sense that he had not taught his
daughter much about pureblood traditions and social
etiquette.
It made him wonder about just how she and Daphne had
become friends in the first place.
His internal musings were interrupted by the arrival of their
flight instructor.
Much like Professor McGonagall, Madam Rolanda Hooch
looked like a woman you wouldn't want to cross lightly, if
at all. Her gray hair was cut in short spikes that were
swept about her face, like she had just come back from
flying. Her eyes were a sharp, piercing yellow like those of
a hawks, and her face held the kind of no nonsense look
that he had seen on the Transfiguration teacher. She wore
a white button-down collared shirt and a black necktie with
the Hogwarts crest under her cloak.
"Alright everyone!" Madam Hooch shouted over the talking
students. Almost immediately everyone quieted down.
"Don't just stand around! Line up next to the broom so we
can get started!"
Well, the woman certainly wasn't one for eloquent words
and long-winded speeches like, that's for sure. That suited
Harry just fine. He and Neville followed the instructor's
advice and lined up next to a broom.
"Now, I want you all to stick out your right hand above your
broom and say 'up!'"
"Up!" everyone shouted at once.
Harry's broom immediately flew into his hand, but he
noticed that his was one of the only ones to have done so.
Malfoy had gotten his to shoot up as well, showing that
while he may be a braggart he was not just puffing hot air.
Tracey's had also flown into her hands the moment she
had spoken. Along with her, Blaise had managed get his
up after a couple of tries and Daphne followed soon after.
On the Gryffindor side of things, it looked like Harry was
the only person who had gotten his broom to respond.
Seamus Finnigan's broom had jumped into the air a few
inches of the ground, then fell back down. It took him
several tries to get it into his hand. Hermione Granger's
had rolled over a couple of times, but not much else. And
Neville's hadn't done anything at all.
"You need to be more commanding," Harry said to Neville
as the Longbottom heir tried to unsuccessfully call his
broom to his hand again. "In many ways brooms are a lot
like horses. They can sense your fear and desire not to
ride them. You need take a more commanding stance.
Don't just say 'up' and expect it to respond. You have to
mean it, you need to want the broom in your hand."
The Longbottom heir looked at him for several seconds,
before taking a deep breath and giving it another try.
"Up!" He commanded, his voice much louder and without
the quaver it held earlier. This time the broom did shoot up
into Neville's hand. Unfortunately, Neville had been so
unprepared for it that the broom had smacked off his hand
and almost fell back to the ground had Harry's own hand
not shot out and caught it.
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Chapter 092
"Thanks, Harry," Neville said with an embarrassed blush
as Harry handed the boy his broom.
"You're welcome," Harry responded with an amused smile.
After everyone had a broom in hand, Madam Hooch
showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding
off the end, walking up and down the row helping students
correct their grip.
"What do you mean I'm doing it wrong?" asked an
indignant Draco Malfoy when Madam Hooch told him that
his grip on the broom was wrong. "This is how I've been
doing it for years!"
"Then you have been doing it wrong for years," the
instructor with hawk-like eyes said in a stern voice. "Your
grip on the broom is too loose and your holding the shaft
to close to the ends of the broom. Not only will that make it
more difficult to control, but it also heightens the chance of
your hands sliding off the end during maneuvering."
The scowl on Draco Malfoy's face as he was thoroughly
humiliated was incredibly amusing. Harry did feel a bit
guilty for taking pleasure in another persons suffering, but
he was beginning to dislike the Malfoy heir thanks to what
he had done this morning. Getting Neville's self
confidence up was hard enough already; he didn't need
Malfoy's bullying making things even harder.
And Harry noticed he wasn't the only one who was taking
perverse pleasure in the boy's humiliation. While Blaise
and Daphne looked pretty indifferent to the whole thing,
with Blaise only showing the smallest of smirks, their
brunette friend had no such subtlety and blatant snickered
behind her hand at the blond boy's embarrassment.
As if feeling his eyes on her, Tracey Davis looked over at
him curiously. Harry gave her the tiniest of grins, then tilted
his head towards Draco Malfoy, who was red faced as
Madam Hooch finished correcting his handling of his
broom. Her eyes lit up when she realized he, too, found
the Malfoy heir's situation amusing and mouthed the word
'idiot' while pointing to the blond boy.
Both Blaise and Daphne seemed to notice the small
interaction, but where Blaise's smirk widened when he
cottoned on to what their silent communication was about,
Daphne simply gave him her iciest glare and looked away,
determined to ignore him.
Harry didn't let Daphne's coldness bother him too much.
From what he had seen she was cold to everyone save
Tracey and Blaise, and even with the dark-skinned
pureblood she tended to keep her distance.
Though he did have to wonder about her cold personality.
It was most intriguing considering how her best friend
Tracey was so friendly and open. How had she turned out
like this? Why was she so cold to everyone? Was it some
kind of defense mechanism? Perhaps someone had hurt
her in the past and she closed herself off to all those but
the few she could trust? It could even be something as
simple as that just being her personality, though Harry
doubted it. More than likely it had something to do with her
family.
Perhaps one of her parents or a relative of hers was
abusive? He didn't know, couldn't know, and so he put it
out of his mind for now. Thinking up theories of how a
person acted without having any information to confirm or
deny his theories was foolish. He would eventually crack
the mystery surrounding Daphne, but he couldn't let it
consume him.
He was brought out of his thoughts when Madam Hooch
began speaking after making sure everyone had mounted
their brooms properly. "Now, when I blow my whistle I
want you all to kick off from the ground hard."
"Don't kick off the ground hard," Harry whispered quietly
so that only Neville could hear. The other boy looked at
him in confusion for contradicting a teacher, but Harry just
smiled. "She's telling you to do that because most people
require to kick off harder than normal in order to get into
the air, but you can also lose control that way. Instead of
kicking off the ground, simply pull the handle of your
broom up and stand on your toes."
Neville didn't have a chance to respond to Harry because
Madam Hooch chose that moment to speak again. "Keep
your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come
straight down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle,
three—two—one!"
As Madam Hooch blew on her whistle, everyone tried their
best to rise into the air. Hermione didn't have much luck at
first, too nervous to actually kick off the ground, and
instead tried jumping up and down. It didn't work and
Madam Hooch had to go over and instruct her.
Seamus and Dean had a bit more luck. Seamus managed
to get off the ground, but his broom wobbled and he kept
slipping from one side to the other. Dean, surprisingly, did
much better than Seamus and managed to stay on his
broom.
Tracey and Draco both did well. Whether or not the blondhaired boy really was as skilled as he claimed, Harry could
not deny that he at least looked comfortable on his broom.
Likewise, Tracey Davis seemed to almost be a natural,
especially compared to her friends, both of whom
managed to get their brooms into the air, but looked mildly
uncomfortable as they did so.
Perhaps the most surprising person there was Neville. His
broom managed to lift into the air by following Harry's
instructions. Oh he certainly didn't look like a natural, and
seemed to be extremely nervous despite not being more
than a foot off the ground, but at the very least he had
managed full lift off.
"You're doing good, Neville," Harry encouraged as he
floated several feet off the ground. It had been easy for
him to get his broom to do what he wanted, and he
suspected it may have had something to do with his dad's
natural talent at riding a broom. Could a persons talent on
a broom be a genetic trait, per chance? Something to
think of later on. "Just keep a firm grip on the handle. Now,
slowly pull it up—that's it—now tilt the handle back down."
Harry watched as Neville's feet hit the ground and nodded.
The boy had done most admirably considering he looked
like he wanted to pass out while in the air.
"See," Harry said as he followed Neville's example and
landed on the ground. "It's not as hard as it looks, is it?"
"If you say so, Harry," Neville replied, still looking
incredibly shaken. "Even so, I don't think I'll be getting on
a broom again any time soon."
Harry gave the boy a nod. "That's fine. Not everyone
enjoys flying. What's important is that you managed to
stay on your broom and didn't get injured or embarrass
yourself, which is more than I can say for them." At the
word 'them' Harry hooked a thumb over to Parvati Patil
and Lavender Brown, both of whom had not even
succeeded in getting their broom into the air. Neville gave
a mild chuckled and grinned unsurely at him.
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Chapter 093
"Ok everyone!" Madam Hooch called for order. "We only
have fifteen minutes of class left, so I am going to allow
you some free time. Those of you who wish to continue
flying may do so as long as you remain where I can see
you. Those who do not wish to continue, place your
brooms on the ground and step off to the side so you do
not get injured by anyone who may decide to do
something reckless."
Of the kids who had gone through the lesson, only a few
decided to continue; Tracey Davis, Draco Malfoy, Seamus
Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Theodore Nott and Harry Potter.
Everyone else had moved off to the side where they would
not get hurt on accident if someone ended up losing
control of their broom.
Harry quickly walked up to Tracey as Madam Hooch told
them to get in line. His actions drew perplexed or
surprised looks from everyone. Like always, he ignored
them in favor of talking to Tracey.
"You seem pretty comfortable on a broom," Harry
complimented, his words causing Tracey to smile at him.
"Were you watching me, Potter?" asked Tracey, her eyes
glinting with amusement.
"As much as I watched everybody else," Harry informed
her with a smile. "And it's Harry. Or as Daphne convinced
you to call me Potter now?"
Tracey laughed at his words, and her eyes moved over to
where Blaise and Daphne were standing. Harry followed
her gaze and saw that while Blaise looked amused to see
him spending time with a Slytherin, Daphne was favoring
him with a cold glare. Harry also noticed out of the corner
of his eye that Draco was scowling at him and Tracey.
He shrugged both of the looks off and turned back to
Tracey.
"No, Daphne hasn't said anything about what I should call
you," she told him with a grin. "But you know how it is,
house politics demand I call you Potter, since, you know,
everyone else in the house seems to call you that."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't strike me as the type who cared about house
politics."
"What?" Tracey gave him her best haughty glare. It wasn't
very convincing, considering her lips kept twitching into a
grin. "You think I don't care about what the
esteemedmembers of my house think of me?"
"Yes," Harry said with a nod. "That is exactly what I think."
Tracey huffed. "Alright, fine. So maybe Daphne might
have said something about how I shouldn't get all chummy
with you because it would ruin what standing I have with
my house."
"Did she really say that?"
"Well, not quite like that," Tracey admitted. "It was more
like 'you shouldn't spend time with Potter; he's only using
you for his own gain and it will be even more difficult to
protect you from our housemates if you befriend him.'"
"Not very trusting, is she?" Harry asked, just barely
managing to contain his wince. While he wouldn't quite
call what he was doing manipulating someone for his own
gain, he also couldn't deny that he was straddling a very
fine line between using others solely for his own gain and
helping them via forming alliances. It was a difficult thing,
trying to further his goals without using others for his own
benefit, and every day he had to constantly think about
how to advance those goals without sacrificing his morals.
"As I said, she's not like that with just you but everyone,"
Tracey reassured him. "She's been like that ever since..."
"Ever since?" Harry's tone turned questioning when
Tracey trailed off.
"Nothing," she told him with a grimace. "She's just been
like that for a while. It's just how she is."
XXXX
"Harry!"
I felt an exhausted sigh threaten to escape as I turned
around to face my tormentor. For nearly two weeks the girl
I had rescued from Dudley and his friends had been
bothering me nonstop. Every morning at school she would
find me and greet me with a big hug, and every time lunch
came about she would be waiting right outside my
classroom. I'm not even sure how she found out which
classroom was mine.
"Lisa," I said, staring at the brunette with a blank look.
"What do you—gurk." A choked noise escaped my throat
as Lisa hugged me tightly. I really should have expected
this, yet for some reason, the action still caught me off
guard. Fortunately, she let go moments later, though I
could tell from how my face felt like it had caught fire that I
was still blushing.
"What was that for?" I hissed. Lisa just smiled at me.
"That was my good morning greeting," she said as if it
should be obvious, which it obviously wasn't. "Good
morning."
"You already said that," I mumbled irritably. I really didn't
know what to make of this girl. Ever since that time with
Dudley and his ilk she'd been clinging to me like glue. I'd
tried ditching her several times and told her off exactly 365
times, but nothing I said or did worked. She continued
following me like some kind of faithful puppy. It was
extremely annoying.
"Well, I'm saying it again," Lisa declared almost proudly.
"And I'll say it a million more times until you say good
morning too."
I pinched the bridge of my nose to stem the coming
migraine and pondered what to do. I couldn't just be rude
and terrible to her—I refused to do something that had
even a chance of sending me back down that dark path I'd
escaped from—but politely trying to deny her friendship
didn't seem to be working.
Guess there was no helping it.
"Good morning, Lisa," I said, averting my eyes. The way
her eyes seemed to sparkle disturbed me.
"You finally did it!" The girl cheered. "Yes!" Before I had a
chance to sneak off, Lisa linked arms with me. "And now
that we're friends you can walk me to my class."
______________________________________________
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Chapter 094
"What?" I mumbled in shock before Lisa began dragging
me behind her. "H-hold up, I never said anything about us
being friends!"
"Of course you did," she chided, smiling brightly at me.
"Just now you greeted me like a friend would. That makes
us friends."
"It does not!"
"Now, to class!"
"Let go of me! Lisa!"
XoX
"The levitation charm was first invented in the sixteenth
century with Jarleth Hobart being credited as its creator,
though he had actually mistaken it for a flying spell rather
than a simple charm that let him levitate objects into the
air. He had been so caught up in his own euphoria at
thinking he could fly that on July fifteenth fifteen-forty-four
he somehow managed to convince a large number of
witches in wizards, including the, at the time, Chief
Warlock of the Wizeongamot to see his... 'maiden
voyage.'"
Harry's small lecture/story on the Wingardium Leviosa was
interrupted by a stifled giggle from Hannah Abbot and a
loud laugh from one Tracey Davis. The two had asked him
for help on their Charms essay as Charms was their
weakest subject. Well, Charms was Hannah's weakest
subject, Tracey was just horrible at writing essays
period—she was good at charms though.
Giving the pair a grin, Harry waited until their laughter died
down, purposefully ignoring the baleful glare sent his way
by the librarian, one Madam Pince.
"You think that's good, wait until you hear this. After an
extremely rousing speech about how he had discovered
flight, and a national anthem being played in his honor by
a popular at the time orchestra, he cast the spell upon
himself and leapt off the roof of a church he had climbed
onto."
"At first it looked like he had succeeded. There he was,
hovering in mid air. Naturally, people were enthralled.
However, after staring at him for nearly three minutes, in
which time he continued to simply hover there, many
people began to grow impatient and tried booing him off
his proverbial stage."
"In response to the negative comments he was receiving,
Jarleth Hobart tried moving in mid air by doggy paddling,
which, by the way, was not successful. He stayed exactly
where he was." More snickers met his words and Harry
looked to see that Blaise, Lisa, Neville, Susan and Terry
were now all listening to him as well. "In either event,
when that didn't work he began to mistakenly believe that
his clothes were making him heavier and thus impeding
his movement..."
Harry trailed off here, waiting for the others to figure out
where he was going on their own. Tracy was the first to
get where he was going. She gasped, then paced a hand
to her mouth as she stifled what was likely to be
uproarious laughter. The others soon followed with their
own reactions, all of which were fairly amusing.
"He didn't!"
"He did," Harry said with an almost solemn nod that was
belied by his grin. "Wanting to show everyone that he
could, in fact, fly, Hobart proceeded to remove all of his
clothing in the hopes that it would allow him to gain the
ability of flight."
By now everyone looked like they were hardly containing
themselves. Tracey had almost literally stuffed her fist into
her mouth to stop herself from laughing, and Hannah was
only a little better off. Neville and Susan were both red in
the face and looked like they were just barely restraining
themselves from openly laughing. Lisa was wearing the
most amused smile he had ever seen, and Terry had his
hands clamped over his mouth keeping his lips shut by
pinching them together with his fingers. Even the normally
stoic Blaise looked like he was having a hard time keeping
the grin off his face.
"However, what Hobart didn't know was that his clothes
were actually the only thing keeping him airborne. You
see, because it is extremely difficult to cast magic on
something magical in nature like a witch or wizard due to
the inherent magical resistance they have, he had ended
up casting it on his clothes. So, when he stripped himself
naked there was nothing holding him up." He paused, and
his grin widened when he saw the others struggling even
harder to contain their laughter. "I'm sure you all can
imagine what happened. He fell to the ground quite hard
after that and ended up breaking sixteen bones on the
way down. He then went on to receive a penalty of
extraordinary stupidity from the Chief Warlock."
His last statement seemed to be the final straw for what
little self-restraint most of them had. Tracey Davis burst
out in laughter, her voice so boisterous and loud that many
of the other students around their table glared at the girl.
Tears literally streaming down her face, she held onto her
stomach like her laughter was actually causing physical
pain.
Hannah was giggling and snorting into her hand, a
mortified look on her face due to the fact that she was
doing something as unfeminine as snorting. Despite
clearly wanting to stop embarrassing herself further, she
seemed incapable of doing anything other than continuing
to show her amusement in the most embarrassing way
possible.
The two shyest of the group of friends, Neville and Susan,
finally lost the battle to contain their own amusement and
were chortling and giggling into their hands. Neville looked
like he was gasping for air as he continued to laugh and
Susan was crying tears of mirth, one hand hiding her
grinning lips while the other was on her stomach.
Harry's Ravenclaw friends were not much better. Terry
was actually on the floor holding his gut as he heaved
deep, ragged gasps of breath from all the laughing he'd
done. Harry could occasionally make out the other boy
wheezing out words like 'naked' and 'stupidity,' but not
much else managed to escape from Terry's mouth.
Meanwhile, Lisa had buried her face into the book laid out
before her as she fruitlessly tried to cover her own
reaction. Harry just hoped she hadn't drooled on that book
or Madam Pince would be even madder than she was
now!
______________________________________________
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Chapter 095
Out of the seven sitting with him, only Blaise had
managed to refrain from laughing like a loon, but even he
was having trouble keeping his amusement from showing.
The Italian boy was currently disguising his laughter as a
cough that he hid behind his closefisted hand.
"Where..." Tracey gasped out as she continued to hold her
stomach. She was sucking in deep breaths now, trying to
gain the oxygen she had been unable to take in during her
intense bout of laughter. "Where did you find this
information? I never saw any of this in the book."
"Did you even read the book?" asked a smirking Blaise.
Tracey scowled at her friend, the blush on her face not
only making it ineffective, but also letting everyone at the
table know that she had not actually read the book. This
brought another round of not as intense laughter to the
group, and served to make the brunette Slytherin's blush
grow.
"I actually didn't find it in the book," Terry informed Blaise
as he dragged himself back into his seat. He was still
gasping a bit, and the occasional snicker escaped his
mouth as he smirked at the dark skinned boy. "And I did
actually read it."
Blaise chortled behind his hand while Tracey's blush and
scowl deepened. She crossed her arms over her chest
and tried to ineffectively glare at the pair.
"Are you two done making fun of me?"
Blaise's eyes held a sense of mischief to them as he
shrugged his shoulders and said, "for the moment."
"Tracey's general laziness aside," Harry began, grinning
when Tracey's eyes landed on him and gave him a
betrayed glare. "The reason you probably couldn't find this
information is because it's at the end of the book as an
excerpt to the levitation charm. You see, it wasn't originally
called the levitation charm, which is actually considered an
improved version of what Hobart created. At the time it
was called the Hover Charm, or Levioso, not only due to
the fact that it allowed one to hover in midair, but also
because that was all it could do. You couldn't make the
hovering object move or do anything other than hover. The
charm was later improved upon and became what we
know as the levitation charm today."
Harry ended his small lecture with a shrug.
"Still, the information is not only entertaining but also
potentially useful." He looked over at Hannah and Tracey
(who was still looking at him like he had betrayed her). "I
figured you two could use this bit to add in that extra four
inches Flitwick asked for on your assignment. I'm sure
he'd get a kick out of it."
After nearly a month of theoretical lectures, Professor
Flitwick had finally told them they were going to be
learning the levitation charm. However, he wanted them to
study the charm first and write up a ten inch essay on its
history, mechanics and uses in every day wizarding
society.
Harry already knew the charm inside and out, having
studied and practiced the spell on his own during the night
before he did his meditations and went to bed. He had
even finished the essay (as well as the rest of this weeks
homework) before the study session he and his friends
had taken to having every Saturday after breakfast.
This was done with a two part purpose. One, he wanted to
be done with his homework as soon as it was assigned so
he could focus on his more important tasks during the
week. And two, so that he could provide assistance to his
friends when they asked for it. This had been a very good
idea because almost all of his friends asked for help with
something, and Harry was well-known by now at excelling
in every class they had.
School had actually been going very well for Harry Potter.
He was always the top in every single one of his classes,
was always the first to get every spell right and always got
it on the very first try (in class at least), and was always
providing help to the other students, much to his teacher's
delight.
There was some jealousy of his academic prowess from a
few of the students. It was an unfortunate consequence of
excelling in everything he did. While many people were
assuaged by the fact that he was perfectly happy to help
them, a few of the more academically-oriented students
who enjoyed being at the top of their class tended to glare
at him when he tried to help them. During these instances
Harry would just focus on that old saying about how you
couldn't please them all. No matter how hard he worked at
being liked and respected by his peers, there would
always be some that he simply would not be able to
please.
One of these people that he took particular notice of was
Hermione Granger, the muggleborn witch who was
consistently near the top of every class. She was usually
the second or third—though there were other times when
she was fifth or even sixth—to get a spell right and had
steadfastly refused his help. Lately he had noticed that the
girl had been looking rather despondent. She seemed
much more withdrawn than usual and had even stopped
lecturing her fellow Gryffindors whenever she was in the
house common room.
In fact, he rarely ever saw her in the common room except
when she was passing through, either up to her room or
into the castle proper. According to rumor (Padma and
Lavender), Hermione would often disappear for several
hours at a time and no one knew where she went, though
many (Padma and Lavender) said they had seen her
crying.
Harry wasn't quite sure what to think of that. If he were
honest, he did feel bad for the girl. At the same time, it
wasn't really his fault. Yes, he was doing better than her in
all of their classes, and he had even helped people
surpass her in some of them, but it wasn't as if he had not
offered her the same help as well. Indeed, Harry had tried
multiple times to help the girl out, but was rebuffed each
time.
In the end, he had just decided to give up. You couldn't
help those who didn't want it. And who knows, maybe she
would come around in time.
Surprisingly, the only subject he was not the best in was
Herbology, where he was currently tied for the rankings of
first place with Neville.
______________________________________________
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Chapter 096
Of course, saying he was not the best usually implied that
he was in second place, not tied for first. It was only due to
Harry's innate competitive streak and sense of fair play
that made him refuse to admit he was first in that class.
Harry had several very distinct advantages over Neville,
not the least of which was his eidetic memory. Despite the
fact that Harry got perfect grades without even needing to
do much studying beyond what he felt like doing to go
above and beyond what was required in his academia,
Neville was still tied with him for first. For this reason,
Harry conceded that Neville was simply better at that
particular subject than he was, painful though it was to
admit.
"You're right about that," Terry said, his voice now clear
after finally managing to regain control over his breathing.
"Flitwick would definitely be amused to learn this. He'd
probably get a few laughs even if he already knows."
Professor Filius Flitwick was definitely one of their favorite
teachers. Unlike the stern Professor McGonagall, the
scowling Snape, or the overly happy and cheerful
Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick was the kind of
teacher who was not only easy to talk to, but also had a
sense of humor and didn't mind making fun of himself in
order to get a point across.
That was not to say none of the other teacher's had their
good points. Harry was actually quite fond of his Head of
House, though a part of this may have been due to her
partiality towards him. It was a very subtle thing, but it was
quite clear to Harry that she favored him, in part due to his
own talent in Transfiguration, but also because of who his
parents were. He was not sure how he felt about that, as it
was his belief that teachers should be impartial regardless
of personal feelings.
Still, in spite of her favoritism he knew enough about the
woman to know that, even if she did favor him, it would not
be enough to keep him out of trouble should he actually
do something that warrants a scolding. God only knows
how many times she scolded his father for doing
something stupid.
His musings on the various teachers and their methods of
instructing students was halted when a stern and angry
voice spoke to the group.
"Excuse me, but if you lot are going to continue to be so
loud, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Harry turned to look at the angry form of Madam Irma
Pince. Madam Pince was a very irritable-looking woman,
the kind who looked like she might start spewing fire at the
slightest provocation. She also reminded Harry of an
underfed vulture. Her skin was rough and leathery, like
parchment, her cheeks were sunken and hollow, her face
was shriveled with wrinkles, and she had an unflattering
hook nose. She was also very thin, something Harry
noticed through her thick robes. Yes, underfed vulture was
definitely the most apt description for her.
"I'm very sorry, Madam Pince," Harry said, bowing to the
woman and adopting a regretful and properly chastised
face. "I am afraid my friends and I were so caught up in
some humorous facts we had learned while doing our
homework that we forgot ourselves. I promise that it will
never happen again."
If it were at all humanly possible and would not have given
him away, Harry would have given himself a pat on the
back for his acting skills. If being a wizard failed he could
always just go to Hollywood and become a world famous
actor, he thought with an amusement that he refused to
show the others.
In the meantime, he would begin looking up silencing
charms. While the standard muffling spell was useful, it
not only didn't block out noise in its entirety, but only
ensured that noise could not move through an inanimate
object, such as a door or window. He would need
something that created a bubble of silence between him
and his friends and the rest of the world so they could talk
with impunity.
Madam Pince continued to glare sternly at Harry as he
stood up from his bow. Her angry gaze swept across to
the other seven with him, all of whom except for Blaise
flinched when it was directed at them. She eventually went
back to looking at Harry, before giving him a stiff nod.
"See that it doesn't, Mr. Potter."
As the strict woman walked off, muttering about
'disrespectful brats who don't know how to respect her
library' under her breath, Harry Potter turned around to
see most of his friends staring at him in shock. Or as was
the case with Tracey, awe.
"What?" he asked, actually feeling uncomfortable. He felt
as if he had suddenly been put on the spot without
knowing why. It almost reminded him of that 'Punked'
show Lisa occasionally watched.
"How did you do that?" asked Tracey.
"Do what?" asked Harry, blinking several times before he
realized what she was asking about. "You mean how did I
get Madam Pince to not kick us out?" When Tracey
nodded her head emphatically, looking almost like those
bauble heads, he grinned. "Why do you want to know?"
"Why do I want to know?" Tracey parroted incredulously.
"What do you mean 'why do I want to know?' Do you know
how awesome it would be to get out of trouble with
nothing but a few words? If I could do what you just did
with my parents, I would never have to worry about being
grounded for sneaking out into the backyard at night so I
could fly my broom without supervision again."
Harry just barely withheld his snort. Leave it to Tracey
Davis to get in trouble for something like that. If there was
one thing he had learned about the Slytherin girl it was
that she was one of the biggest broom fanatics this side of
Hogwarts. She loved everything about brooms, every
single fact and facet regardless of how useless, she knew
it all. This, of course, included things like which Quidditch
star used which brand of brooms, how long they had
them, and how many times they had been forced to get
them replaced for one reason or another; she even knew
the reason each broom had been replaced.
She was also a complete Quidditch fanatic, and could
debate facts on the sport for hours without end. Harry
knew this from personal experience.
______________________________________________
___________
Chapter 097
"Well, I suppose that's as good a reason as any," Harry
replied with a mild dose of sarcasm. The grin on his face
as he sat down next to her and Hannah let the girl know
he was joking. "So you want to know my secret to
escaping unfavorable predicaments with people like
teachers and parents?"
Tracey blinked several times at the large vocabulary he
had just used. While the girl wasn't dumb by any stretch of
the imagination, few if any of the people she knew used
such complicated words. Harry just liked saying large,
complex multi-syllable words because it made him sound
more intelligent. After a moment or two she gave him
another nod.
"Well," Harry leaned in and cupped a hand to his mouth,
as if he were about to share some great secret. Tracey,
eager to learn how he could get himself out of trouble time
and time again with mere words, leaned in to hear his
words of wisdom.
Harry smiled as his mouth stopped right next to her ear.
The others also leaned in, hoping to learn his secret as
well.
"It's a secret."
"Prat!" Tracey hissed as she took a swipe at him. Harry
chuckled as he leaned back and rubbed the shoulder she
smacked.
"That really hurt you know," Harry said with a small grin.
"Is this how you show your appreciation after all the
assistance I've given you with your classwork?" he
moaned piteously while tossing the others a wink. "I don't
know if I can continue to help such a violent and unruly
girl."
"You did kind of deserve it, Harry," Hannah informed him,
speaking up before Tracey could. Said girl huffed at Harry,
but decided let the pig-tailed blond speak for her. Being
the closest to the pair. she had been able to hear his
words much more clearly than the others, and would admit
to being disappointed about not learning how he could be
so persuasive. "I kind of want to hit you myself."
"But you wouldn't do that, would you, Hannah?" asked
Harry with slightly pleading eyes. Hannah flushed a bit,
and Harry continued. "You're not like that abusive and
violent girl over there, are you?" he continued, pointing
over at Tracey.
"Oi!"
"Of course not," Hannah said, turning her head away from
Harry for a second. "But that doesn't mean I'm not
disappointed. And while I wouldn't hit you, I wouldn't stop
Tracey from hitting you either."
Harry tried to give Hannah his best pout. Unfortunately
pouting was not an expression he had ever practiced
before, so his face looked more comical than cute and
caused his friends to laugh at him. Huffing, Harry fought to
contain a smile as he saw how well his unification plan
was working.
The transition from thinking in terms of Houses to that of a
unified group of friends from different walks of life had not
been seamless; there was still the occasional problem, but
it was going much more smoothly than he had originally
anticipated. Really, the only issues that had cropped up
was when Blaise and Tracey had shown up to study with
them that first Saturday.
It wasn't anything they had done wrong, in fact, Tracey
had been rather nervous about sitting with a bunch of
people from other Houses. No doubt many of the older
students of her House had informed them about how the
other Houses hated and distrusted people in Slytherin
simply for being in the House of Snakes, and it had given
her a fear of opening up to people not of her House. She
had actually been on her best behavior because of that.
No, the problem had not come from the two Slytherins but
from everyone else. It was a very unfortunate
circumstance, but the fact of the matter was that whoever
had informed Tracey of the distrust the other three Houses
held against Slytherin had been right. No one trusted the
House of Snakes. All of the first years in the other three
Houses had been told of how untrustworthy Slytherins
were and warned to watch out for them. This led to his
other friends becoming quiet and tense when Blaise and
Tracey showed up.
This hadn't stopped Harry though. In an effort to breach
the gap dividing Slytherin from the other three houses, he
had spent most of that study session talking to Blaise and
Tracey. He helped them with their homework, talked with
them about their interests and hobbies, and did everything
he could to not only make them feel comfortable but let
the others know that he trusted them.
Trust was the main issue here. No one trusted anyone
from Slytherin because of the misbegotten rumors that
Slytherin produced Dark Wizards. Once again, Harry had
to curse that damnable fool, Voldemort, for ruining a once
noble house with his mad ideals and idiocy. The stain
brought about by the actions of the most recent Dark Lord
even made people forget that Merlin himself, a man not
only known for being the most powerful wizard in
existence, but also for being the most muggle friendly
wizard in history, had been in Slytherin House. Were
Voldemort not already dead, Harry would've mercilessly
crushed the man for making his goals that much more
difficult.
Despite the minor hardship that came with two Slytherins
joining their study group, the others eventually overcame
their differences and now Tracey and Blaise were as much
a part of the group as Susan and Hannah were.
He now had friends in all four houses, and once people
began to see that the rivalries certain houses held for
each other (Slytherin and Gryffindor) could be overcome,
he would be able to expand his influence into each house
with more ease.
"What about you, Susan?" Harry turned his attention to the
redhead who, upon being put in the spotlight, let out an
'eep!' as her cheeks took on a light pink coloration. It was
actually an improvement from the way her entire face used
to turn as red whenever he addressed her. "You're not
disappointed in me, are you?"
"Ah, um..." Susan seemed to struggle to find the right
words to tell him, and the red on her face began to
gradually darken the longer the others at her table stared
at her. By the time she finally did speak, she looked like
she wanted to disappear beneath her robes. "No?"
"Thanks, Sue," Harry said, completely ignoring the way his
red-haired friend blushed at the nickname he had given
her. He turned to look at the Tracey and Hannah. "See
that, why can't you two be more magnanimous and sweet
like her?"
______________________________________________
___________
Chapter 098
While Susan's face began taking on the same glow as a
red star, Tracey quipped, "because if everyone was like
Susan this world would be a very boring place." Realizing
that what she said could be construed as an insult, the
brunette quickly turned to the shy Hufflepuff and said, "not
that there's anything wrong with being nice like you. Just
that the world needs more... more..."
"Variety?" Lisa supplied when she saw Tracey struggling
to find the right word.
"Yeah, that's it!" Tracey snapped her fingers as her face
took on a 'eureka!' expression. "The world needs more
variety, otherwise it would get very boring very fast."
"Such an eloquent speaker," Harry teased the girl for
requiring someone else to come up with a proper noun for
her to use. "You ever thought of becoming a politician?"
While Tracey huffed at him in mock indignation, Blaise
gave him a calculating look.
"I think the only one who wants to become a politician is
you."
Harry looked over at Blaise and sent the boy a wide smile.
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
"Right," Blaise drawled with an amused smirk.
"Not to put a rain on your guys' parade or anything,"
Neville interrupted, speaking for the first time since their
bantering had begun. "But I think you might want to leave,
Harry, or you may be late."
Harry blinked at Neville for several seconds, before
looking out the nearest window. Where the sun had once
been set low on the horizon, now it had risen so high up
that he could no longer see it from his position near the
window.
Eyes widening in horror, Harry waved his wand and cast
the tempus charm. Glowing numbers arranged themselves
in midair, showing him that it was almost ten o'clock.
"Dammit!" Harry hissed, swearing for the first time in a
long time. He quickly grabbed his bag filled with notes he
had written to help his friends and threw it over his
shoulder. His hurried and jumbled,
"Sorryaboutthisgottagobye!" was barely even heard much
less understood by his friends as he bolted out of the
library, much to Madam Pince's ire.
"Well," Tracey started as she stared at the spot her newest
friend just vacated, blinking. "At least we now know that
Mr. Perfect isn't quite so perfect."
Her words brought another round of snickers from the
others. None of them would deny that it was amusing to
watch the normally calm and composed Harry Potter
making a mad and panicked dash out of the door like a
man possessed.
Blaise summed up his thoughts quite nicely.
"It would definitely make good blackmail material, should
we ever need it."
Tracey sent him an amused look while the others blinked,
wondering if he would really blackmail his friend or if he
was just joking.
"My, how Slytherin of you, Blaise."
Blaise smirked.
"I try."
XoX
Harry sped down the many halls of Hogwarts, cursing
himself for having lost track of time. This had never
happened before. Harry had always been a very punctual
person. A part of having eidetic memory and quite possibly
the worst case of OCD ever recorded was that his internal
clock always knew what time it was. Always.
Well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. He would
sometimes lose track of time when he was with Lisa, but
those were instances where he was finished with
everything and had nothing to do for the rest of the day
except to spend time with his best friend, so it didn't
matter. It was pretty much time he allowed to slip by him
so it was alright.
This, nearly missing out on something he had been
expecting for the past few weeks because he lost track of
time, was not something he had expected or allowed.
Growling to himself, Harry put such thoughts out of his
mind and tore down the stairs, taking them four, five,
sometimes even six or seven at a time. He could feel his
magic working through his legs as he used his unique
ability to reinforce himself in order to counteract the
possible damage he might receive for jumping several
sets of stairs at once, as well as to speed up his pace.
He reached the bottom very quickly, and his feet had
scarcely touched the floor when he pushed himself into
another sprint.
Harry tore his way out of the Entrance Hall and zoomed
across the grassy landscape of Hogwarts, making his way
to the large Quidditch Pitch.
The Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch was large, nearly three
times the size of a football field. Stands rose into the sky
on all sides, each one decorated with the colors of one of
the four Houses. Spectators sat in the low walls built in
between the stands, while Harry assumed the teachers
sat in the high stands for better viewing.
Lush green grass met his feet as he stepped out onto the
field. Six large hoops, three on either side of the Pitch,
loomed overhead.
Harry could see the crowd of those who were trying out
had already gathered. He recognized all them thanks to
his perfect memory. The Quidditch captain, he noted, was
not there. Good. It meant he had made it in time.
A few of them stood out more than others, chief among
them being the two Weasley twins, Fred and George
Weasley. He also recognized Angelina Johnson and Alicia
Spinnet, both students in their third year. Angelina was an
attractive witch with dark skin, black hair and brown eyes,
while Alicia had olive-colored skin and brown hair and
eyes.
Amongst the others he could easily make out Katie Bell,
an athletic looking and attractive second year witch with
dirty blond hair and doe-like brown eyes. She often hung
out with Angelina and Alicia. With her, he also recognized
Cormac McLaggen, Carl Hopkins, David Norton, and
Jason Swann, all second years looking to try out.
As Harry made his way towards the group, Fred and
George Weasley spotted him from where they were
huddled together, no doubt plotting something devious.
The pair grinned as soon as they saw him, and drew the
eyes of the others towards them as they walked over to
Harry.
"Well, if it isn't young Harrikens out for a stroll."
______________________________________________
___________
Chapter 099
"Have you come to cheer us on during our try outs?"
Harry's lips twitched into an amused smile. He really was
rather fond of the two trouble makers. In his mind, the
Weasley twins were upholding his father's tradition of
causing mischief around the school, something he could
not do since it would ruin his sterling reputation as an
upstanding and helpful student.
"Watch you guys try out?" Harry asked with a playful scoff.
"Do you really think I would be here to cheer you two
troublemakers on? No." He shook his head and adopted a
pompous look. "I am here to try out for the Seeker
position."
He had decided to try out ever since his first flying lesson
had ended. During their free time, he and Tracey had
taken to the sky, and while his Slytherin friend had simply
flown loops at a leisurely pace, Harry had taken his desire
for a thrill to the extreme. Having remembered the many
stunts his father had shown him and spoken of, Harry had
tried to emulate those maneuvers: dive bombing toward
the ground before pulling up at the last minute, barrel rolls
and gut turning loop-de-loops, skimming the grass while
he was upside down before turning about at a sharp
ninety degree angle without losing any speed. He had
gotten so lost in what he'd been doing that he hadn't even
realized the entire crowd of first years and Madam Hooch
gawking at him.
When he had finally come down, the flight instructor with
hawk-like eyes had informed him that she had never seen
such marvelous flying since his father, and that he should
consider trying out for the school team next year.
Of course, Harry being Harry had decided to try out this
year. Thus the reason he was now standing at the
Quidditch Pitch with the other hopefuls.
There were two reasons Harry had decided to try out for
the Gryffindor Quidditch. The first was because making
the team would boost his reputation, and making the team
as a first year would raise it even more so. There had
never been a first year to gain entrance onto the House
teams, as far as he knew, and definitely never one who
had gained the position of Seeker, which was often the
considered the most prestigious position. If he could
become the Gryffindor Seeker in his first year, his standing
amongst his peers would be raised even more, and he
would be that much closer to stepping out of the shadow
his title as the Boy-Who-Lived cast.
The second reason was much more personal, and in
many ways, far more important to him. His father, James
Potter, aside from his prodigious talents in Transfiguration
and his knack for getting into trouble with pranks, had
been one of the greatest Quidditch Players in the last
century. He had been so good that by the time he
graduated Hogwarts he'd had seven propositions by
various Quidditch teams asking him to sign a contract with
them as a Chaser.
Unfortunately, the war had still been going strong and his
father's sense of justice led him to not accepting the
positions. Instead he had joined the fight against
Voldemort, which ultimately led to his parents demise.
Harry did not blame his dad for what had happened, or for
the fact that his desire to fight against the Dark Lord led to
Harry being raised by the Dursleys. Voldemort's campaign
against wizarding Britain had been more of an
extermination of all things non-magical and different,
including those witches and wizards born from nonmagical parents. That meant his mother had been a
target, and would have always been a target no matter if
they had entered the war or not. Who knows what might
have happened had they not decided to fight. Perhaps
things would have happened differently and all three of
them would have died in a Death Eater Raid.
"Trying out for the position of a Seeker?" questioned Fred,
blinking.
"I do believe that is what he said, Gred."
"A first year?"
"Indeed, a first year."
"Isn't that against school rules?"
"I'm surprised you two are even concerned about whether
it's allowed or not," Harry interrupted. "Considering neither
of you are sterling examples of rule abiding students."
"Oooh, that hurts Harrikens, right here." George placed his
hands over his heart and gave Harry a hurt look, as if the
young raven haired youth had just stabbed him in the
chest.
"I will have you know that my brother and I are the most
upstanding young men you will ever meet."
"Indeed, we are perfect gentlemen."
"Right you are, dear brother of mine."
"I couldn't help but notice," Harry began with an amused
eyebrow raised. "That neither of you said anything about
being rule abiding."
The two twins looked at each other, then back at Harry.
"By golly, you're right! We didn't, did we?"
"Well, it's not as if we can say otherwise. Mischief makers
we may be, but liars we are not."
"So," Fred swung his left arm around Harry's shoulder
while George swung his right around Harry's other
shoulder. "Our little firsty thinks he's got what it takes to
make the team?"
"You know, it is quite difficult to make the team. Especially
with our captain. He's very... driven when it comes to
Quidditch."
"Obsessed is more like it."
"Indeed."
"I believe my skills will speak for themselves once I'm in
the air," Harry informed them. He had complete
confidence in his own abilities. He may have only flown on
his own once—not counting the toy broom he had
received from Sirius when he was one—but when he had
been on that broom he had never felt more at least. It had
felt like the broom was an extension of himself, rather than
a piece of wood between his legs.
"You seem pretty confident," Angelina said as Harry, Fred
and George stopped next to the other students waiting for
the try outs. "Getting on the team isn't easy, and it will be
even harder for you since you're a firsty."
"As I said, my skills will speak for themselves once we're
in the air," Harry told her with a smile. "I don't believe
we've met before." He stuck out his hand. "Harry Potter."
Angelina gave him an amused smile before sticking out
her own hand.
"Angelina Johnson."
"A pleasure," Harry said as he took her hand in his grasp
and laid a kiss on her knuckles.
"Such a gentlemen you are," Fred exclaimed.
______________________________________________
___________
Chapter 100
"Would you kiss my hand too?" asked George, batting his
eyelashes at Harry.
Before Harry could come up with a suitable retort, both
Angelina and Alicia smacked the two in the back of the
head.
"Oh, stop it, you two," Alicia drawled as the twins held the
back of their heads in mock pain. "Honestly, can't you
troublemakers ever be serious for once in your life?"
"My dear Alicia, who do you think you're talking to?"
"Of course we can't be serious. How would we manage
our mischief if we were?"
Alicia gave a heavy sigh, as if she had heard that
response a thousand times. Considering how practiced
the act of smacking Fred had been for her, Harry would
not be surprised if she had.
The olive-skinned girl turned to him and smiled as she
held out her hand. "Alicia Spinnet," she introduced as
Harry kissed the back of her hand as he had Angelina's.
"Charmed," Harry replied with a charming smile. He then
turned to the last female of their group, who looked like
she was hiding out behind Angelina. "And you are?"
Katie Bell flushed slightly, before shaking her head and
smiling at him as she daintily held out her hand.
"Katie Bell, pleased to meet you."
"The pleasure's all mine," Harry returned with a smile as
he repeated the gesture he had done for Angelina and
Alicia. Katie blushed a bit and her smile seemed to widen.
Behind Harry, George leaned into Fred so he could
whisper in his brother's ear.
"He's quite smooth, isn't he?"
"Indeed, I suspect we have a soon to be Casanova on our
hands."
Harry felt like rolling his eyes as he heard the pair of
troublemaker's words. Just because he was acting in the
appropriate manner of an heir to an Ancient and Most
Noble House did not mean he was some kind of
womanizer. He was nothing like the fops Lisa always read
about in those trashy romance novels of hers. Honestly, it
was as if they two had never heard of pureblood etiquette.
Then again, knowing who they were and what family they
were born into, maybe they hadn't.
"So you think you have what it takes to make seeker?"
All eyes turned from Harry to the person who spoke.
Cormac McLaggen stood before the younger man, arms
crossed and a sneer on his face.
"As I have already informed everyone multiple times, I'll let
my skills speak for themselves once I'm on a broom,"
Harry told the boy coolly. He knew very little about
McLaggen, and what little he did know was from what he
had observed thus far in the common room. Cormac was
a braggart, pure and simple. He may have talent, but the
fact that he would often brag about his own prodigious
skills while showing none of them simply rubbed Harry the
wrong way.
McLaggen grunted as he uncrossed his arms.
"We'll see if you can keep that confidence when the tryouts start."
As if summoned by the word 'try-outs,' the Quidditch team
captain stalked onto the field, a broom slung over his
shoulder and a heavy looking chest in one hand.
Captain Oliver Wood was a rather burly fifth year student
with brown hair and eyes, and was of broad shoulders and
chest. He was very tall, standing head and shoulders taller
than Harry, and was one of those few wizards who actually
looked like he exercised extensively. He had a very
commanding presence about him, and there was a
maniacal looking gleam in his eyes that several of the
people there (Angelina, Alicia, Fred and George)
shuddered at when they saw it.
"Alright you lot!" Oliver started as soon as he was on the
pitch. "Try outs are starting now. Those who are trying out
for the Beater position move over to the left side of the
pitch. Chasers front and center, and Seekers over to the
right."
Clearly, this was a man who had no desire for inane
pleasantries or long-winded speeches. He was all
business.
While Fred and George walked over to the left side of the
pitch with Jason Swann, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Carl
Hopkins, and David Norton stayed where they were.
Cormac McLaggen was the only other person besides
Harry himself who walked over to the right where the
Seekers were supposed to be.
"Oi! What's a firsty doing here?"
Harry turned at Oliver's shout and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm here to try-out," he informed the much older boy.
Oliver frowned.
"First years aren't allowed on the teams. Sorry gent, but
you'll have to leave. You can always try for a position next
year."
Harry ignored the grins he was getting from Fred and
George, as well as smug look he got from McLaggen and
stared at the burly teen in front of him.
"Actually, there is no rule that says a first year can't be on
the team," he corrected, causing Oliver to blink. "It only
states that first years aren't allowed to bring their own
brooms. People just assume a first year can't make the
team because of it."
"Whatever the case is, I still can't let you on the team,"
Oliver said. "Not being allowed to bring your own broom is
just as bad as not being allowed on the team. I don't know
if you noticed, but the school brooms are the biggest
pieces of shite I've ever seen. You're as likely to get killed
trying to fly one as you are to stay in the air."
"Ah, but what if I told you that I have a sure fire plan that
will allow me to use an extremely good broom without
breaking any school rules?" asked Harry, smiling as he
saw Oliver look at him like he had grown a second head.
"How can you use your own broom if you can't even bring
it to school?"
"You let me worry about that," Harry told him. When he
saw the Quidditch captain was not convinced he said,
"let's just say I have a full proof plan that will allow me to
use my broom without repercussions and leave it at that.
All I'm asking for is the chance to get on the team. Let me
try-out. If I'm not good enough than there's no harm done,
right?" He could see Oliver was on the fence, and decided
that one more push was needed. "Besides, if I can beat
McLaggen over here using one of the school brooms,
imagine what I could do on a broom that doesn't have the
potential to be fatal every time you ride it."
That seemed to settle things for Oliver.
"Alright, you can try out," he told him reluctantly. "But if I
don't think you've got what it takes, it's off the pitch with
you. Got it?"
____________
Chapter 101
"Of course," Harry said smoothly, giving a serene smile at
his accomplishment. Now all he had to do was prove his
skills on a broom; an easy enough task to accomplish so
long as McLaggen's talent as a braggart was not matched
by his talent on a broom.
Quidditch try-outs started soon after. Harry was forced to
listen to Cormac MgLaggen brag about how he was going
to beat Harry and get his rightful position on the team.
Harry wished he could ignore the boy, and cursed his
eidetic memory for burning this conversation—if the act of
one person talking about his own greatness for the sole
purpose of hearing himself talk while the other tried to
ignore him could be considered a conversation—into his
memory.
Thankfully, Harry had a lot of practice at pretending to
ignore people, and so while he was not able to get the
braggart's continued speaking out of his head, he was still
able to focus on the rest of the try-outs.
He had never questioned that Fred and George Weasley
would get the Beater positions. Aside from the fact that
they were a two-for-one package as they worked quite
flawlessly together, probably because they were twins,
there was only one other person trying out for the beater
position, and Jason Swann simply didn't have the
extraordinary ability to work in perfect synchronicity with
either of the twins that they had with each other.
Of those who tried out for Chasers, Angelina Johnson and
Alicia Spinnet soon proved to be the obvious choices for
two of the three spots available. From what he knew the
pair had already been on last years team with Fred and
George. They certainly showed a lot of talent and
teamwork skills when their time came to show what they
could do.
The other position as Chaser was given to Katie Bell. She
was not as good as Angelina or Alicia, and technically
speaking Carl Hopkin was better. However, while the
pureblood student had more talent on a broom, Katie was
more compatible and better able to work with the other
two girls than he was. And in a position where teamwork
meant everything, the ability to work with those you play
alongside of is more important than your talent flying a
broom.
After nearly two hours of watching the other students tryouts and listening to the incredibly long-winded McLaggen
boasting about how he was going to beat Harry, the time
finally came for the two going out for the Seeker position
to put their skills to the test.
By now, all of the people who had been chosen to be on
the team were near the stands so they could watch on and
see who got the position, while those who lost had
dejectedly made their way back to the common room.
Harry could see Fred and George talking with Angelina
and Alicia while Katie watched on in obvious amusement.
He wondered what the twins were doing. If they were
anything like the Marauders, they were probably taking
bets on which one of them would get the Seeker position,
he reasoned.
"Alright you two, mount your brooms," Oliver instructed
them as he knelt down next to the trunk he had brought.
As Harry mounted his broom, he saw Oliver unlock a clasp
that kept the tiniest of the balls used for Quidditch, the
Snitch.
Quidditch was a sport that had three different types of
balls that were kept in play. Bludgers, large leathery balls
that would attack the players. It was the Beaters job to
keep them away from the players on their team and, if
possible, hit them at the players on the other team. The
Quaffle, which Harry likened to a football, was the object
that the three Chasers focused on, and it was their job to
get the Quaffle through one of the three hoops while the
Keeper tried to keep the Quaffle from entering.
The snitch was the smallest of the three. It was a tiny
golden ball smaller even than Harry's palm. On either side
it possessed a pair of wings that fluttered and beat with
speeds of a hummingbird. It was the job of the position he
was going out for, the Seeker, to find and catch the snitch
before the other team's Seeker did. Doing so would not
only end the game, but gave the team whose Seeker
caught it 150 points, which most often but not always won
the game. This was why the Seeker's position was so
important.
Beside Harry, Cormac MgLaggen also mounted his
broom, while Oliver looked at the pair with a disturbing
maniacal gleam in his eyes.
"I'm going to release the snitch," Oliver informed them
both, holding up the fluttering ball as it tried to squirm out
of his grasp. "The one who catches the Snitch two out of
three times will be the one who gets the Seeker position.
You got that?"
"Of course," MgLaggen said in a pompous voice. "Just
save that position for me after I finish showing young
Harry how a real Seeker plays."
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he focused on
Oliver.
"I'm ready."
"Right." Oliver released the Snitch and let it fly off. He
brought a whistle to his lips. "When I blow this whistle, you
two are to start looking for the snitch. On my mark..."
Harry took a deep breath and let his body relax as he
prepared to kick off. Beside him, Cormac MgLaggen
tightened his grip on the handle of his broom.
"Three..."
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Chapter 102
For a moment, Harry felt a small trickle of anxiety. What if
he wasn't good enough? What if MgLaggen really was
better than him? What if he didn't make the team? While
he had decided to try out in order to boost his reputation,
there was a big chance his reputation could be sullied.
How bad would it look to his peers if he, a first year, went
out for the Quidditch team and failed? He would look like
an arrogant and presumptuous child who bit off more than
he could chew, and it would make people question
whether or not he was really everything they thought he
was.
"Two..."
No! he couldn't think like that. Defeatist thinking always led
to defeat. He couldn't let fear rule him. The first enemy to
conquer if he wanted to succeed was fear, just like his
master always told him, and he would rather give it his all
and fail knowing he tried his best, then not even try
because he was too afraid of failure.
"One..."
The whistle blew and Harry put everything except the task
at hand out of his mind as he pushed off the ground. All of
his worries, all of his hopes, all of his goals and desires
faded, as if they were a dream. Right now, only one thing
mattered: getting the Snitch before MgLaggen.
MgLaggen decided to take the high ground in his search
for the Snitch. No doubt he hoped that the overhead view
would allow him to find it more quickly than Harry. In most
cases, that would probably work, but not against someone
like Harry.
Using his unnaturally perceptive vision granted to him
through his eidetic memory, Harry swerved along the pitch
on his broom, memorizing everything he laid eyes. Any
change taking place in between sweeps would be
cataloged into his mind and referenced for future use at
light speeds.
His eyes darted from left to right, up and down, while his
head constantly turned and scanned the area. So long as
the Snitch wasn't hiding behind one of the stands, he
would see it.
There! He could see the Snitch hanging low to the ground
near one of the student stands on the opposite side of the
pitch. MgLaggen hadn't noticed it yet, he wasn't even
looking in the right direction.
Harry felt a grin come to his face as his competitive side
came to the fore. Wanting to snatch the Snitch before his
opponent could even begin to guess what was happening,
the raven-haired boy urged his broom towards the small
golden ball with wings.
His broom felt sluggish under his grip, and Harry could feel
it begin veering towards the left as he pushed it past its
boundaries. Small bucks and jerks tried to rock it this way
and that, but he kept a firm grip on the handle and let his
magic flow through his fingers and into the wood. Slowly
but surely, the spastic jerks ceased for the most part, with
only a few relatively minor bucks that were easily quelled.
The Snitch was much closer now. It zoomed to the left and
Harry tailed it doggedly. MgLaggen had only just realized
that Harry was on the Snitch's tail and tried to coax his
broom to zoom in on them so he could take the winged
ball out from under Harry's nose.
His broom was much faster than Harry's. A Comet 290,
one of the faster brooms out there. However, despite the
speed advantage he had over Harry, he was too far away
to catch up before Harry caught the Snitch.
"Excellent job, Potter!" Oliver said as Harry handed the
small ball over to him with a grin. MgLaggen landed
beside them, glaring at the younger year. It was a glare
that went ignored by the other two. "You get it one more
time and you're on the team. Better try harder if you want
on with us, MgLaggen."
MgLaggen looked like he was about to burst a blood
vessel his face was so red. Harry ignored him in favor of
letting his eyesight fall upon a group of people who had
come onto the pitch sometime before he caught the
Snitch.
Blaise, Hannah, Lisa, Neville, Susan, Terry and Tracey
had all come onto the Quidditch Pitch, probably to watch
him, and huddled in a group with the Weasley Twins, who
looked like they were trying to convince the first years to
place their bets on who would be getting the Seeker
position.
"Let's do this again." Oliver's voice caused Harry to look
away from his friends and focus on the task at and, getting
the Snitch before MgLaggen.
The second time was not as easy as the first. The moment
the whistle was blown, MgLaggen began tailing Harry, a
not unexpected developing, considering what happened
last time.
Harry did not try to look for the Snitch immediately. With
MgLaggen following him around like a mouse on cheese,
trying to find the Snitch would not be the wisest decision.
The other boy's broom was faster. Even if Harry was more
skilled, which was still an untested theory seeing as the
last competition had been won due in no small part to
luck, the difference between their brooms would outstrip
any skill advantage.
Instead Harry took MgLaggen on a chase. He wove
through the stands, rose into the air and dove towards the
ground. All of it done in an effort to make MgLaggen
confused and disoriented. Whether it worked or not, Harry
didn't know. Turning his head to look behind him, he saw
that MgLaggen was still tailing him and the older student's
eyes were locked on him like the cross hairs of a fighter
jet.
Well, it wasn't quite what he wanted, but this would still
suit Harry's needs. So long as the boy was so focused on
him that he didn't focus on the Snitch, that was all that
mattered.
He found the Snitch in short order. It had only been five
minutes since the ball was released, and it was flitting
about near the hoops closest to him. MgLaggen hadn't
noticed it, so focused was his attention on Harry.
That was good. Now all he needed to do was get near the
Snitch without alerting MgLaggen that he had found the
Snitch.
With a yank of his broom, Harry quickly ascended into the
skies. MgLaggen followed without a hint of hesitation,
making Harry smile. When they past the general altitude
where the Snitch was, Harry turned his broom so it would
move over the hoops.
Predictably, MgLaggen followed, still completely unaware
of what Harry was doing. Good. Just a little more
maneuvering and he would be in position to get the
Snitch.
The Snitch was still near the spot he had originally seen it.
The ball had only moved a bit. Now it was near the left
hoop. As soon as Harry felt he was close enough, he
shove the broom down as hard as it could go, making a
steep dive toward the Snitch.
It must have seen him, or sensed him, or however it was
the Snitch could tell a player was near. As soon as Harry
entered his dive, it took off in its own swift descent towards
the ground.
Harry felt a growl escape his throat. His eyes narrowed as
he laid himself nearly flat against the broom to decrease
his wind resistance. He could feel the broom shuddering
as he pushed it far beyond its normal limits and did what
he could with his magic to keep it stable.
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Chapter 103
His vision narrowed in on the Snitch and everything else
faded out of his mind. Now it was just him and the Snitch.
It had not pulled out of its dive and was nearing the
ground now and, despite the dangers present, Harry
refused to move out of his dive either. He stuck on its tail
like a magnet and refused to move away.
When the Snitch was just a few feet from the ground it
pulled out of its dive, turning nearly ninety degrees exactly
and began running parallel to the ground. It had not lost
an ounce of momentum.
Harry jerked on the handle of his broom hard. His feet
touched the grass and Harry flinched as his broom nearly
flew out of control. It began shaking so erratically that he
was almost sure it would simply fall apart on him. And yet,
he refused to let that stop him. Not now. Not when he was
so close.
The Snitch was almost right next to him now. Just a few
feet away, feet that was beginning to disappear as he
closed in on it.
Three feet.
He felt the broom's shuddering as he picked up speed. It
wasn't going to last much longer.
Two feet.
His hands gripping the brooms handle for all it was worth,
Harry narrowed his eyes and focused on the Snitch.
One foot.
Keeping a firm grip on the broom with his left hand, Harry
stretched his right hand out in preparation the grab the
Snitch. He was close. So close. Just a few more inches.
He stretched his arm further and could feel the Snitch
grazing the tips his fingers. He was—
—Harry's eyes widened as he felt the broom getting
yanked out from under him and, suddenly, there was no
longer any broom underneath him and he found himself
airborne. He flew across the pitch but was losing altitude.
Lower and lower he descended and Harry, his body and
magic acting on nothing more than instinct, flung his left
hand out towards the ground.
His magic came forth, cushioning him as much as it was
able. It wasn't as much as he would have liked. He hit the
ground arm first, then rolled end over end for several feet
before stopping in a painful manner, lying on his back,
gasping for air as all the oxygen was driven from his
lungs.
Harry had no idea how long he laid there. His vision was
blurry and there was a ringing in his ears. It could have
been minutes, or it could have only been seconds.
Eventually, his eyes snapped back into focus, the ringing
stopped, and he became aware of the sound of rushing
feet and his name being frantically called by several
people.
"Harry!"
The first one to reach him was Susan Bones. The redhaired Hufflepuff looked close to tears as she knelt down
next to him. She looked frantic.
"Harry! Are you ok!? Where does it hurt!?"
Harry didn't get a chance to answer, because in that
moment, the rest of his friends reached him, and all of
them began asking more or less the same series of
questions, just worded differently by each person.
A moment of guilt passed through him as he saw that all of
his female friends looked like they were on the verge of
tears. Tracey was the only one who had any modicum of
control, and even her eyes were beginning to water at the
corners. He felt awful, like he had done something wrong,
like their tears were his fault. Yet at the same time he felt...
happy? Yes, he supposed that was the proper word for it.
He felt happy that they were worried about him so much
that they would cry for him. Happy and cared for.
He tried to suppress these feelings. Neither of them would
do any good right now. Not the guilt, and not the elation.
Everyone around him was still talking, asking him if he
was alright, but it all sounded like jumbled background
noise that his currently addled mind couldn't make sense
of. There was a pounding in his skull like that of a war
drum being beaten by a troll. He must have hit his head as
well, he concluded. Only when he had a concussion from
one too many knocks in the skull did he have trouble
understanding others.
He didn't worry about that though. Later tonight he could
sort through his memories and fix them up so he could
understand the separate words everyone was saying. For
now, he needed to focus on calming his friends down.
"I'm fine," Harry told everyone, holding up his hand so he
could get them to stop talking. It took a while, but the
noise died down to a more manageable level. When he
felt he would be heard over his friends, he asked, "what
happened?"
"That jerk MgLaggen is what happened!" Tracey said with
a scowl from where she knelt on his left. Harry looked at
her and she gestured to where MgLaggen was currently
surrounded by Oliver and the three Chasers. Fred and
George were off to the side, but they did not look
particularly pleased either. They were all yelling at the
second year, but were so far away he couldn't here what
they were saying. "The ponce had the gall to grab the
bristles of your broom and yanked it out from under you."
Her scowl darkened. "He's so lucky the others are berating
him or I would have shown him some of the hexes
Daphne's been teaching me."
While the comment about Daphne was interesting, Harry
decided to focus on something else. Namely, what he
should do with MgLaggen.
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Chapter 104
He looked over at the boy cowering under the glare of the
three Chasers as they told him off for what he'd done.
Harry pondered, what kind of punishment did he deserve?
If he had anything to say about it, the other boy would be
shunned before the day was out.
That was actually a very harsh punishment to deal with,
being forsaken by all your friends, or previous friends. And
for someone like MgLaggen, who was a blow hard that
loved bragging to others, that might be the worst
punishment. The best part was, Harry wouldn't have to
actually lift a finger to do it. Other people would punish the
boy for him.
Deciding to assess the damage he had taken, Harry ran a
quick mental check of all his injuries. He had a minor
concussion, nothing too serious. Some bruising around his
back and chest. Those weren't bad either, and would be
easy to deal with. The only serious injury he could see
was his wrist. It was broken—a hairline fracture, from what
he could tell. He'd had enough of those to know how they
felt, and by running his magic along the damaged bone,
could feel the cracked line that ran about an inch long
near the center of his wrist. That one would take a bit of
effort to fix, but a good night directing his magic to the
wound would heal it easily enough.
"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Susan. She seemed to
have gotten over her embarrassment around him, at least
temporarily, and checked him for injuries like an overworried mother.
"I'm fine," he assured the girl. "Or I will be after a good
nights rest."
"Oi, Potter!" Harry and those gathered around him looked
up to see Oliver and the rest of the Quidditch team
heading towards him. A quick glance showed Cormac
MgLaggen sulking as he made his way back to the
Gryffindor Tower. "You're not dead, are you? Cuz we still
need to see how well you do, and since Cormac isn't
getting on the team, I need you to catch that Snitch."
Scowls made their way onto the faces of his friends, even
sweet and innocent Susan Bones looked like she wanted
to snap at the older boy. Fortunately, none of them would
have to. Angelina did it for them by smacking Oliver on the
back of the head.
"I mean, erm, why don't we get you to the hospital," Oliver
amended as he rubbed his abused noggin.
"There's no need to send me to the hospital," Harry said
as he gingerly climbed to his feet. He swayed a bit as he
stood to his full height, but Neville came up and put a
hand on his shoulder to steady him. He gave the other boy
a nod of thanks, then turned back to Oliver. "More
importantly, I have something for you."
XXXX
I don't know when it happened, that moment I stopped
considering Lisa to be an annoyance. I sat at my desk, not
paying attention to my teacher's lecture, pondering, trying
to discern the moment Lisa became my... friend. Yes, that
was the word. I failed, unfortunately. I couldn't pinpoint any
specific incident when I began to think of her as something
more, something important. All I know is that it happened.
When the bell rang and class ended, I left the room with
the other students. Many some goodbye to me; some did
not. I didn't particularly care, but for the sake of being
polite, said goodbye back.
Lisa was waiting for me outside.
"Hey, Harry!" She greeted me with undiminished
enthusiasm. I tried hard not to smile.
"Lisa, how was class?"
"Boring!" She sang.
"Ha... boring, you say?"
"Really boring," she confirmed.
As we began our walk to the school entrance, I tried
convincing the girl about the importance of education. I
feel like most of my words flew over her head. That, or she
just wasn't paying attention. Either way, she didn't seem to
understand why learning and school was so important.
"So, Harry," Lisa said as we walked outside, the bright sun
bearing down on us from the clear sky overhead.
"Yes?"
"I was wondering." Lisa wasn't looking at me anymore.
She twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, looking
away. I frowned. "Would you be interested in having dinner
with my family this Saturday?"
I blinked.
"Dinner?"
"Mm."
She nodded, still not looking in my direction. I thought her
offer and, well, I couldn't see any reason not to accept her
invite. Dinner with Lisa sounded infinitely more pleasant
than dinner with the Dursleys. Still, a part of me felt
reluctant. Hadn't I been avoiding making friends because I
would be going to Hogwarts when I turned 11? Why form
bonds when they would eventually break? Better to not
befriend anyone than become friends and leave them later
on. Those were my thoughts.
And yet, as I looked at Lisa, I wondered. Would it really be
so bad? Surely, I could allow myself to befriend at least
one person. I'll admit, books were nice, but I still felt lonely.
Even sparring at the dojo didn't change this. I felt isolated,
alone, much like when I lived in that broom cupboard
underneath the stairs.
I'll also admit, if only to myself, that I did actually like Lisa.
She was bright and cheerful, a ray of sunshine breaking
through clouds of monotonous gray; a breath of fresh air,
refreshing and crisp, blowing away the staleness that had
become my life. That was Lisa Crawft.
"Sure," I agreed, and the cheerful expression on Lisa's
face let me know that I made the right decision.
______________________________________________
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Chapter 105
News of Harry becoming the new Seeker for the Gryffindor
Quidditch team spread quickly. The very day after try-outs
in fact. It seemed the Hogwarts rumor mill had been
working overtime with anything concerning him. Harry had
once more been the subject of much talk among the
student population, and even more gawking than he had
been subject to before.
This didn't bother Harry like it had back when school first
started and people gawked at him like he was some circus
freak show. At the beginning of school, when everyone
stared at him, it had been annoying. Now he actually
enjoyed them, because unlike before, the stares and
admiring glances and envious looks he received were
because of something he did; something he had
accomplished with his own skills and abilities; not because
of something that happened to him when he was a
helpless baby.
He would admit it felt nice to have people looking at him
with so much respect. To listen to students talking in the
hall about how Harry Potter, not the Boy-Who-Lived, but
Harry Potter made the Gryffindor team as its Seeker.
Acknowledgment. He was finally being acknowledged as
his own person. He still had a long ways to go before the
stigma of that thrice damned title disappeared, but he was
making inroads towards that goal.
The only real problem that came from his joining of the
Quidditch team, as far as he could see, was the jealousy
that came with the news. While many people were in awe
of him and looked at him with admiration and respect, just
as many were jealous of his accomplishment. Several
times while he walking through the hallway, he would hear
people talking about how how they could have done better
if they decided to try out for their teams. Draco Malfoy had
been particularly loud and obnoxious whenever he
discussed how unfair it was that Harry had been made
Seeker when he could have done so if he had realized it
was allowed.
That was not the worst of the dissension, however. No,
while the people boasting about how they could have
made the team if they tried, and put him down by claiming
he had only gotten on the team due to his fame because
they were jealous bothered him, they were easily ignored.
He would simply show them how wrong they were during
his first game and that would be that. By far, the worse
rumor was the one about how the staff was showing him
favoritism by letting him join the Quidditch team.
These rumors had no basis in fact. Professor McGonagall
had actually been against letting him join the team at first,
stating that it was against the rules. And when Harry told
her there was no rule claiming he was not allowed to join,
she told him it didn't matter because he could not bring a
broom to Hogwarts. It was only after a demonstration of
his skills and his promise that he had a plan that would let
him use a broom better than the ones Hogwarts
possessed without actually bringing his own (funny
because he doesn't have a broom) broom to school that
she finally relented. No one else knew this, however; only
his friends and his new teammates were aware of these
circumstances, and so rumor persisted.
He almost chuckled when he thought of how upset Oliver
was when news of Harry's position as the team's Seeker
came to light the next day. The man seemed to have been
hoping to keep it a secret until the first game. But of
course, that would have been impossible since there were
several people who saw him trying out that day.
According to rumor, one Cormac McLaggen had been
seen in the Gryffindor Common Room telling people about
how unfair it was that a first year became Seeker because
of his fame, when someone who was obviously more
talented (like him) had been denied. Harry did not know if
there was any veracity to those rumors, seeing as how he
was rarely in the Gryffindor Common Room, since he
preferred to spend time either with his friends or one of the
empty classrooms on the second floor practicing magic,
but when he took into account how much of a braggart
McLaggen was it made sense. He did not doubt for an
instant that the boy would say something like that in order
to lessen the sting on his pride.
Truly, his decision to become Gryffindor Seeker was a
double-edged sword.
With a small sigh, Harry put his thoughts on his decision to
join the House Quidditch team on hold and looked at the
letter he was writing. He was sitting in one of the squishy
arm chairs next to the fire place. A merry fire crackled
before him, its flames a mixture of yellows and reds that
danced around each other like a pair of star-crossed
lovers. Harry blamed his euphemism on Lisa's trashy
novels and absently wondered if the fire was charmed.
He reread the letter for errors and to make sure it
contained all of the legalese and details requires, his
calligraphy pen tapping a steady rhythm on the coffee
table. It was a letter to Andromeda Tonks, a very important
one that could help him exponentially in his goals, and the
wording needed to be just right so she would know exactly
what he wanted. After several rereads, Harry decided it
was perfect.
As if knowing his letter was finished, Hedwig came
swooping in through the window he had opened before
starting on the letter. She flew down and landed on the
coffee table next, her amber eyes going from him, to the
letter, then back to him.
"So impatient," Harry teased with a small grin. "I haven't
even sealed the letter yet and you're already demanding I
attach it for delivery."
Hedwig gave him an indignant hoot as her wings flapped
and her eyes bore into his.
"Yes, I did call for you," Harry agreed with a nod. "I just
didn't expect you to get here so fast. If you had been in the
owlery, it would have taken at least two minutes for you to
fly up here. It's almost like you've been waiting outside this
whole time." Which she had. Harry had heard the flapping
of wings while he wrote the letter and had been able to
feel her impatience the entire time he checked it over.
Hedwig barked at him, her feathers ruffling as she gave
him a glare worthy of Professor McGonagall.
"Don't look at me like that," Harry said, still grinning at his
owl. "You have got to be the most impatient bird I've ever
seen." Hedwig tried to bite his finger at that, but he moved
it out of the way and ran his fingers along the feathers at
the back of her head. "But don't worry, you're still the best,
most beautiful and most intelligent owl I know."