Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts, October 1996 (17)

Since reconciling with Snape, time conspired against Harry. His new schedule conflicted wildly, a jumbled mash of classes, Quidditch practices, and training, making him scarce around Gryffindor Tower. Ron and Hermione worried that he was doing too much, especially as Angelina was prone to surprise the team with impromptu practices for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff.

Harry missed his friends and did his best to make time for them on the weekends, but he couldn't complain: he enjoyed being with Snape. Though the man was all business when it came to training, during rare downtimes Harry thrived on gleefully driving the man to distraction, much as he had while at Soth-ince. He also carried on sleeping in Snape's quarters at night, preferring to stay there instead of making the long trek up to the Tower after an exhausting training session. This concerned Ron because while he understood the importance of Harry's training, he couldn't help expressing his irritation when Harry chose to spend the night in the dungeons - especially as he wasn't the only one to notice.

Harry and Snape were never obvious in class or around the castle, but many students, Slytherins in particular, found their relative lack of enmity suspect. Whispers and pointed staring at Harry was nothing new, but it worried Ron and Hermione, particularly as Snape wasn't too shy in calling his students to task for any hint of malfeasance.

The entire castle witnessed him dress down a third-year Slytherin at dinner when the boy tried to hex Fang. With Hagrid still away, the dog split his time between Charlie in Hagrid's hut, and Harry in Gryffindor Tower. At meal times, to some students' delight, and others' chagrin, Fang often made the rounds to each table begging for and receiving scraps. This night, he padded around Slytherin. Euan Baddock, Malcolm's little brother, twisted his bowed lips in disgust when Fang sniffed sloppily at his back.

Many girls in Slytherin, and a fair few in the other Houses, tended to coddle Euan because his crown of chestnut curls and large, bright green eyes lent him a convincingly angelic air, but it was with a chilling deliberateness that the boy raised his wand at Fang. Following Euan's motions, the dog cocked his head and sniffed the air, anticipating the usual tasty morsel tossed his way, but then sensing Euan's ill-intent, the dog whined and slowly backed away.

Hearing that sound of distress, Snape looked up. As swift and silent as a cat, he was at Euan's side before the boy could take a breath let alone utter a curse or a hex. The man's dark expression was all too familiar to everyone in the Hall. The sight of them cringing in concert when he grabbed the boy by the scruff of his robes, hauling him to his feet, might have been funny were Snape not so genuinely furious.

"I sincerely hope you weren't about to hex that dog." Snape's acid tone reverberated throughout the deadly quiet Hall as though he had spelled his throat with Sonorous.

Air of innocence gone, Euan began to snarl and buck madly as if possessed. In an instant, Malcolm was up, grasping his brother about the waist and shoving against Snape's hand.

"You're barking!" Malcolm raged. "Get your hands off him!"

Snape shifted his glare onto Malcolm. "Sit down Mr. Baddock or you will be on the Hogwarts Express home before I count to three."

But instead of obeying, Malcolm - a fourth-year Slytherin, who with his hulking size could have easily passed for Hagrid's illegitimate son - did a strange thing: he smiled coldly and leaned in close to Snape, his lips barely moving as he whispered into Snape's ear. Within seconds, Snape snapped back as if ordered to stand at attention. Harry's stomach plummeted at the chilling, self-satisfied way Malcolm eyed the man, but Snape's expression was even more disturbing. Looking a curious mix of sick and angry, his dark eyes flashed over to Harry, then away, as if afraid to linger.

Perched at the edge of his seat, Harry began to inch upward, his hands balled into fists. He froze when Ron pressed a hand to his hip, easing him back down. When Harry turned to look at him, Ron frowned. He gave a quick shake of his head and mouthed, "Don't!" Harry took a look around. Nearly everyone sat spellbound, their eyes glued to the extraordinary scene unfolding before them. Even the ghosts appeared captivated, hovering above the tables or between the aisles, anticipating the explosion sure to come.

The crisp rustle of Dumbledore's sky blue robes burst the thick bubble of tension. Moving to stand alongside Snape he put a hand on the Potions master's back. Snape gulped visibly then let Euan go. The boy cast Snape a look of deepest hatred before flinging himself back into his seat. He then made a business of dusting off his robes where Snape had touched them. Defiant, Malcolm remained standing, daring Snape to do or say something untoward. Dumbledore motioned sharply for the boy to sit down. After running a hand over his blond curls to smooth them off his forehead, Malcolm obliged, though his face was knotted up in a look similar to his brother's - and he never took his cold, blue eyes off Snape.

Side by side Dumbledore and Snape walked back to the High Table, Fang at Snape's heels. But just at the dais' edge, the dog broke away and trotted over to Harry where he sprawled on the floor at the boy's feet. Harry was the only one to have recognized the curious motion Snape made with his hand.

In the common room that night, Ron brought up the strange occurrence.

"Never seen Snape like that with Slytherins." 

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, staring into the fire. "I'm worried for him."

"Him?! What about you?"

Harry looked over at Ron, a surprised smile on his face. "I can take care of myself."

Ron frowned. "Look, I know you're pumped up with this wandless magic and all, but these blokes aren't messin' about! You saw Baddock! He looked ready to kill Snape! And that's his Head of House! Just imagine if he had a real idea of what's goin' on between you two..." Harry opened his mouth to defend himself, but Ron held up his hands. "I know you don't try to flaunt it, but it's hard to miss the fact that you and Snape never have cross words for one another in class anymore. From what I hear, all the talk amongst that lot is mutinous. And the way some of them look at you? It's scary... You got to be careful, Harry. I'm serious!"

"Ron's right, Harry," said Hermione, curled up on the sofa, legs obscured by her Arithmancy text. "I'm sure Snape wouldn't be pleased to hear you being so blasé about your magic. The fact is a lot of people want to hurt you. A bit of vigilance isn't a bad thing."

"Okay, fine. I get it." Harry held up his hands in defeat, knowing he was not going to win this battle.

"Dumbledore handled things well, though, don't you think?" Hermione said, in her relentless quest to get Harry to forgive the man.

"It was the least he could do," Harry said dismissively. "Especially as he's likely the reason Snape wouldn't talk to me all that time."

"You don't know that for a fact," Hermione said. "Why not ask Snape about it?"

Harry shook his head. "We're getting on pretty well now. I don't want to ruin it. I'll figure out a way to get at the truth. Me and my Cloak, that is..." Noting the mischievous glint in Harry's eye, Ron laughed; Hermione frowned.

"You'll figure on getting caught, you mean," she said. "That or you're going to hear something you're not supposed to or something you don't want to hear," she warned. "Just ask -"

Harry groaned, exasperated. "Hermione, I did ask him. I asked him after he met with Dumbledore and he bit my head off. The night of your party, he still wasn't keen on me bringing it up. What makes you think he'll tell me now?"

"I just think sneaking around is a bad idea. He'll feel betrayed, Harry, that you don't trust him."

"Well then, he'll know how I felt after he met with Dumbledore," Harry said tightly. Hermione opened her mouth, most likely to defend the headmaster, but Harry interjected. "It's just that he's taking all the burden on himself. He told me to let him handle things with Dumbledore and I did. And afterward, he still didn't see any need to tell me what went on or why Dumbledore changed his mind about him training me, because he obviously didn't want him to. I just want to know why."

Undeterred, Hermione opened her mouth to retort.

"Leave him alone, Hermione..." Ron said tiredly. "You know he's going to do what he wants anyway."

"Obviously," Hermione said coldly. "But must you egg him on?"

"Egg him on? I haven't said one bloody word!" Ron stared at her, confounded.

"No, instead you sit over there, laughing when he talks about sneaking around and possibly ruining -"

"Hermione..." Harry began. "You can't get -"

"Never mind!" She huffed and then slammed her book closed. "I'm going to bed."

Speechless, Ron and Harry watched as she stomped out of the room. Harry threw his head back against the sofa, annoyed.

"Don't worry about it, mate," Ron said quietly. "She can't be right all the time."

Harry remained silent.

"So, what d'you think that was with Baddock and Snape?" Ron asked. "I saw him look over at you. He looked... weird."

"He was scared." Harry said.

Ron snorted. "Scared? Snape?"

"He had that same expression when we were attacked this summer."

Ron whistled softly. "Damn... Wonder what Baddock said to him?"

Harry eyed the ceiling, his brow crooked in thought. "Me too."

*WO

Hogwart's Grounds, October (18)

Saturday morning dawned sunny, and clear, but the air was crisp, a bracing reminder of winter's approach. On their way to the Quidditch pitch, Harry, Ron and Ginny spotted Charlie speaking to someone bent over smoothing their trouser leg. Ron called out and Charlie turned, grinning broadly as he waved them over. When Charlie's companion straightened up and turned to face them as well, Harry gawked. 

"Perce! What are you doing here?" Ron demanded, his teeth clenched so tightly together, his lips barely moved.

"Well, hello to you, too, little brother," said Percy, perfectly at ease.

"You shouldn't be seen talking to us!" Ron insisted, looking about nervously.

"Percy, what's going on? Why are you here?" asked Ginny.

"Ministry business," Percy said, his hazel eyes coming to land on Harry. "I convinced the Minister that despite my ragged family ties, trying to reconnect with Harry might go a long way toward rectifying that. I told him that speaking with you might result in my gleaning some much needed information on your summer activities as well as your state of mind. He was rather disappointed when he arrived here back in July only to discover you had gone..." Ron laughed and Harry smiled; Percy gave a tiny shrug. "I also suggested that I could do no worse after reminding him that his every attempt had been... unsuccessful."

"Unsuccessful my arse." Ron grumbled. Harry was surprised when Percy allowed a smile at his brother's salty language.

"Be that as it may," Percy said, "Harry, could you spare a moment or two? It would mean a great deal to me."

Percy still had a decidedly pompous air about his speech, but his attitude was markedly different from anything Harry had experienced in all the years he had known the man. Desperate to escape his family's humble legacy, Percy had ruthlessly pursued employment at the Ministry after leaving Hogwarts, and in less than a year he had been appointed as Junior Assistant to Cornelius Fudge. But that same drive had forged a bitter rift between him and his family; Ron had more or less disowned him. But looking at him now, Harry noted that the blind mania Percy had possessed while serving under Fudge was gone.

Harry wondered at the change. A year ago, Percy had written to Ron, coldly encouraging him to sever ties with Harry because he was ‘unbalanced' and possibly ‘violent.' Harry had been hurt and angry at the time, but Percy's present attitude led him to decide to at least give the man a chance to say whatever he had come to say; Harry nodded.

"Marvelous," Percy said. "Shall we?" He gestured for Harry to precede him. He then gave a quick nod to his brothers and sister as he and Harry started away.

"First off Harry, I owe you an apology. My behavior toward you last year was... How did Mother put it? Reprehensible, repulsive, repugnant, and just plain ridiculous..." Harry smiled; Percy answered it with a little uptick of his lips before saying soberly: "I am not proud of it; if I could change things, I certainly would."

"Per -"

Percy held up his hands and stopped walking.

"Please, this is not easy. Admittedly, it is nowhere near as difficult as the conversation I had with my family, because, well... I can be rather stubborn and myopic when it comes to admitting fault," he said, as if sharing some great secret.

"Must run in the family," Harry muttered, thinking of Ron.

Percy blinked. "Yes, well, I wanted you to know that you now have the support of the entire Weasley family."

"Well, thanks, Percy, but, um, can I ask what happened to change your mind?"

Percy took a moment to look out at the grounds then said: "Working at the Ministry, one comes into contact with a wide array of people. In so doing, I became privy to some rather delicate information involving the Malfoys." Percy shook his head in a disturbed manner. "It is a remarkably corrupt family, Harry - more than I believed possible. To be honest, it showed me how tremendous a fool I had been regarding my own family."

Harry snorted. "I can't imagine them being any worse than they are." He paused, then said, "About a month ago, though, Draco bade me be careful ‘cause his father and aunt are up to something."

Percy's expression became strangely alert and his eyes narrowed behind his wire rimmed spectacles. "Heed his advice, Harry - do be exceedingly vigilant, even here at the castle. You have heard about Luna Lovegood's father?"

Luna had spent a lot of time at the Weasley's over the summer at Xenophilius Lovegood's request. Repeated threats from Voldemort supporters about negatively skewed articles printed in his newspaper, The Quibbler, deemed it necessary. Now, though, the threats had come to fruition; Xenophilius had not been heard from, nor his paper distributed since the middle of September. Luna's last contact with her father had been their emotional goodbye as she boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Harry frowned, recalling her wan appearance in the corridor that first day back. "Yeah, everybody knows..."

"Well, he has not been the only one to go missing... It is happening all over."

Harry knew that, too. Gossip spread like knotgrass in the castle. "Not that I don't appreciate your concern, Percy, but I'm safe here at Hogwarts," he said.

"Yes," Percy nodded knowingly. "I understand Professor Snape has taken you under his wing." Harry shrugged shyly. "He is a formidable wizard and I know from experience that he is a forthright man, but just know that you mean a lot to my family, as well. I should not take kindly to any of their hearts being broken due to some foolish action on your part."

"Thanks, Percy." Harry muttered, noting that the ruthlessness was still there, simply redirected.

*WO

Snape's Quarters, Hogwarts, October 1996

After dinner, Harry begged off from hanging out in Gryffindor Tower, eager to share with Snape details of the conversation he'd had with Percy.

"Harry Potter." Snape's door glided open and Harry stepped inside. Sliding his Invisibility Cloak off, he noted that the rooms were quiet. Snape had told him that he might not be there were Harry to visit, but to be certain, Harry called out, "Professor?"

When silence was his only response, Harry entered the sitting room where he dumped his things onto the floor then kicked off his shoes. Just as he was getting settled on the sofa, Dumbledore's head appeared in the fire. Harry startled and jumped to his feet.

"Headmaster!"

Dumbledore's eyes widened with surprise. "Harry? Ah... Is Severus near?"

"No."

"I see. Well, might I come through and have a word with you then?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure," he said, figuring it was about time they cleared the air.  

"Splendid!" Dumbledore exclaimed. After he stepped through the flames, Harry motioned to the chair nearest the fireplace.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked. The old wizard smiled brightly as he arranged his robes to settle in the chair.

"How very kind of you, Harry. That would be lovely."

Harry nodded. "S'cuse me." 

Harry imagined he should feel nervous or even a trifle guilty for having ignored Dumbledore since term began. Instead, soothed by his surroundings, a cool calm ruled him. If Soth-ince was like home to him, Snape's quarters had become his home away from home.

Within minutes, he was back in the sitting room, setting the tea tray on the coffee table. He poured steaming Earl Grey into a cup and handed it off to Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Harry."

Harry nodded then resumed his spot on the sofa. Dumbledore sipped politely before balancing his cup and saucer on his knee.

"I have wanted to speak with you for some time now," he said.

Harry clasped his hands between his knees. "Yes, sir, I know."

"You refused because you feel that I have been unfair to Professor Snape."

Harry nodded. "He won't tell me what went on in your office that day, and I don't want to know - well, that's not true - but whatever it was, I feel like you did it to turn him against me or me against him... The thing I can't figure out is why. Especially after all he's done for you, for the Order."

"You care for him a great deal," Dumbledore said after a time.

"He's a good man."

Dumbledore regarded Harry kindly. "Yes, Harry, he is, but it is not my place to tell you what was discussed in my office that day."

Harry frowned. "You mean you don't mind me knowing what you two talked about?"

"Not at all."

"Then why not just tell me?"

"Truly, in light of your attachment to him, it is a matter better settled between you and Professor Snape."

Harry shrugged. "Fine, but if was to do with him training me, you should have known that I would never have trained with anyone else."

"That fact is quite clear to me now, yes," Dumbledore said, "but as I told Professor Snape, your training was, is of the utmost importance."

"So I've heard," Harry said, irritated.

So, training wasn't the issue. He had been fairly certain of it before, but to have it straight from one of the horses' mouths, he scratched that off his mental list. Now he was back to square one, wondering what Dumbledore had said to make Snape shun him.

"Your bond with him is why I relented on the matter," Dumbledore said, cutting through Harry's thoughts. "I simply had not realized how close you two had become until you returned."

 "Well... I trust him."

"Clearly, but after meeting with him, I realized that I neglected a thing I had told him back in June before you two left." Harry regarded Dumbledore expectantly as the old wizard paused to take a sip of tea. "I told him how admirably unique you are in regards to overcoming ill-feelings."

Harry sighed. Did the man have nothing of value to say that would shine a light on Snape's behavior after that meeting?

"I also told him," Dumbledore said, "that it was not my intention to cause either of you undue heartache."

Harry perked up. "But you did! All those weeks he wouldn't talk to me, I was miserable... Hermione thinks I'm being too hard on you, that I shouldn't be upset with you because you have reasons for doing what you did, but this is my life you're toying with."

Dumbledore nodded. "Well said, Harry, but Miss Granger is quite right. Know that I do not take my influence over you or any of my students lightly. Having said that, I do realize the effort it will take to gain your trust back."

Harry shifted, a bit unbalanced by the old wizard's mea culpa. "Oh, well... It's just, I don't like being treated like a chess piece. The professor either."

"Of course, Harry." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he took another sip of tea. "My brother, he is quite taken with you."

Harry blushed and ducked his head, prompting Dumbledore to chuckle softly. The sound of the door closing startled them.

"Potter?" Snape called.

"Sitting room!" Harry called back. Snape rounded the corner then stopped cold.

"Headmaster..."

"Ah, Severus."

"What's - Is there anything wrong?" Snape's eyes darted anxiously from Harry's face to Dumbledore's as if to get a quick tally of their moods.

"Harry prepared a lovely cup of tea for me," Dumbledore said. "We were just catching up."

Despite Dumbledore's guileless tone, Snape searched Harry's face intently. Seeing nothing other than the tiny frown of concern in the boy's otherwise open expression, Snape exhaled.

"Potter, I'd like a word with the headmaster, alone."

"Okay..." Harry said, hesitating slightly; he found Snape's tense behavior worrying. "I'll, uh, just be in the other room." He grabbed his book bag and shoes.

"No!" Snape said. "Go to your dorm."

Harry frowned at the man's sharp tone. "But -"

"Potter... I'll see you tomorrow."

Snape's tone was commanding, his anxiety, palpable. Dumbledore, who was contemplating Snape, appeared calm, if a bit disappointed.

"All right," Harry said. He needed to make things up with Hermione, anyway. She was still peeved about their discussion last night. He quickly knuckled on his shoes and shouldered his robe and book bag. "Headmaster." He nodded at Dumbledore who nodded back.

"Sleep well, Harry."

"G'night, Professor," Harry said as he passed Snape.

"Potter," Snape said, following him to the door. Harry threw his Cloak over his head and stepped out into the corridor. He stood quietly as Snape closed the door in his face.

*WO

Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts, October 1996 (26)

Indian summer made a short, but respectable reappearance for much of the last week of October. Many hoped that the pleasant weather would linger for the first Quidditch match of the season, but few were surprised when on the day of the match the weather turned, making layers of clothing and heating charms the rule. Accustomed to playing in fair weather and foul, Gryffindor's veterans suffered silently in their changing room, however, a certain newcomer was disposed to a bit of complaining, unfortunately within earshot of the team captain, Angelina Johnson.

"Robins, cut the whinging!" Angelina growled at the huddled, quivering mass that was Demelza Robins.

"Sorry, Angelina, but it's b-bloody freezing! Why c-can't we at least get properly warm before g-going out there in that beastliness?"

As Angelina loudly schooled Demelza on the sacrifices of being on a winning team, Harry, Dean and Ron kept to the other side of the room - Harry and Dean doing their best to cool Ron's nerves and fire his confidence. Ron doubted his ‘Weasley is Our King' legend despite winning the Quidditch Cup last May.

"You can do this, mate." Harry assured him, trying not to think of their most recent practices where Ron seemed to become more and more unreliable. "You've been spot on in a lot of practices and Angelina's had some... er, positive things to say."

"I don't find ‘My Gramma's mother can block better than that' rather inspiring stuff, Harry," Ron said, with an angry sigh. "You may not be the fastest broom in the shed, but surely you can recognize that as an insult."

Dean coughed to cover a chortle. Harry shrugged, unable to hide a smile as Ron leaned over to secure his knee pads with gusto. Angelina never held back when expressing her disapproval and Harry knew nothing but winning would make Ron feel better, so he said nothing about his friend's sulky attitude.

"Make ready Gryffindors!" Madam Hooch shouted from the entrance.

"All right, guys," said Angelina. Her normally friendly cocoa colored eyes blazed with a frightening mix of anticipation and nerves as they connected with every one of her teammates. "Let's show Hufflepuff who's boss!"

Out on the pitch, conditions were bleak. The sky was leaden with either snow or rain, and the icy wind cut viciously through every crack and crevice of the team's gear. As uncomfortable as it was on the ground, Harry knew it would be ten times worse once they were in the air. Ordered to mount their brooms and kick-off, both teams' players squealed and groaned as the wind turned even more savage the higher they flew.

While awaiting the release of the Snitch, Harry heard his name, carried on the wind. Hovering just above the Gryffindor stands, he looked down to find Hermione waving wildly at him, easily recognizable by her bright red mittens, a griffin embellishment on the palms. Even at this distance, he could see her cheeks, reddened by the harsh gale. Luna, who looked more settled than she had done since the start of term, was sitting next to Hermione, that ridiculous roaring Gryffindor lion hat firmly ensconced on her blonde head.

Seconds before Madam Hooch released the balls and the Snitch, Harry risked a quick wave; he grinned when Hermione and Luna waved back.

"Harry!" Angelina screeched. "Eyes up!"

Looking up, Harry caught sight of the Bludger flying right at him. He muttered an oath then smartly zagged out of the way of the flying ball of iron so that it grazed his elbow pad instead of plowing into his stomach. He then urged his broom up higher, scoping the area for any sign of the Snitch.

Despite the frigid conditions, Hufflepuff scored early and regularly. Harry quickly grew weary of Lee shouting into the megaphone, "Hufflepuff scores, again!" to the accompaniment of disappointed "Awww's!" from the Gryffindors.

Forty-five minutes into the match, Angelina called a timeout.

"Ron, what's the matter with you!? You do see the Quaffle coming at you don't you!? You do know that every time it gets past you, Hufflepuff scores ten points, right!?"

With each question, Angelina's voice grew shriller until she sounded like she was speaking Mermish.

"Angelina, girl, calm your -" Dean began.

"First of all Dean, I'm your captain, not your girl! Second, I don't want to hear any ‘calm yourself' crap from you right now! This is Hufflepuff we're playing! We should be the ones a hundred-seventy points up!" Angelina thrust a gloved finger into Ron's chest. "Now I don't know what you're playing at allowing all those goals, but you'd better do something about it... or I'll have to reconsider McLaggen as Keeper." Stunned, Ron opened his mouth in protest, but Angelina cut him off. "I don't want to, but I will." 

"Ten seconds, Gryffindor!" Madam Hooch called.

"C'mon!" shouted Angelina. "Into the air, now!"

She spun to kick-off, her braids lashing the air carelessly behind her. Much of the team followed her lead, throwing frustrated scowls at Ron before taking to the air. Disheartened, Ron went to mount his broom, but Harry stopped him. For a split second Ron tensed at his touch.

"Rough, huh?" Harry said, jerking his thumb in Angelina's direction.

"Yeah, but she's right..." Ron muttered, his shoulders slumping. "Can't even blame it on Slytherin."

Harry followed Ron's annoyed glance. He was glad they weren't playing Slytherin, certain that silver and green banners would now be waving in time to a rousing chorus of ‘Weasley Is Our King.' As it was, their stands were strangely only half-full.

"Well..." Harry said, "then just imagine their stands are full... Imagine they're singin' that stupid song, trying to wind you up." Harry began to hum the dreaded melody tunelessly, horribly.

Ron grimaced and clapped a hand over Harry's mouth. "Quit it! Argh! You have the worst singing voice!"

Harry laughed and shook him off. "You wound me..." he said, clutching dramatically at his chest. He then mounted his broom and took to the air.

Grinning, Ron followed then settled before the Gryffindor rings, a determined glint in his blue eyes. Satisfied Ron now had his head in the match Harry performed a few swift loops, hoping to spot the Snitch. He loved the thrill of playing and especially winning and he knew Angelina would kill him if he nabbed the Snitch now, but, like everyone else he was frozen to the bone and ready to get warm. 

Flying close to Slytherin's stands he spotted Snape. The man had promised to come, so it was no surprise to see him, but Harry couldn't help his sudden jolt of nerves. He knew it was ridiculous; Snape had seen him fly before, but things were different now. As Harry watched, the wind whipped Snape's hair across his face. As the man raised his hand to push the wily strands aside, he spotted Harry. He then held his hand up a beat longer than necessary before settling it back into his lap. Harry grinned, but it dissolved into a scowl when Draco leaned over to say something, taking Snape's attention. A sudden burst of screams from Hufflepuff's stands forced Harry to drag his focus back to the match.

"Hufflepuff scores again and now leads by 180, but Gryffindor is finally showing some life!" Lee announced. "Under the fantastic guidance of team captain, Angelina Johnson - could be Jordan if she weren't dating one of my best - Oh, Merlin! Gryffindor scores!" Lee suddenly shouted. "That's Gryffindor, now down by 170 points!"

Harry hovered near the center of the pitch, scanning the stands, the crowd, and both team's goals. When Ginny pelted the Quaffle through a ring, another roar rose from Gryffindor's fans.

"Yeah! That's the ticket! W-what's this? What's this?!" Lee screeched. "Now Katie Bell has the Quaffle... She's gaining on - Ah, no! McCoy's grabbed her tail! That looks totally illegal to me! Where's the ref - Oh, OH! OHHHHHH! Gryffindor! Gryffindor scores again! Incroyable! For you uneducated bores out there, that's Italian for ‘incredible'- Huh? French? Eh, whatever... just look at these guys go!"

Minutes passed. Gryffindor continued to decimate Hufflepuff's lead with Katie and Ginny pegging hoop after hoop while Ron successfully blocked Hufflepuff's attempts to score, but there still was no sign of the Snitch. Then the winds died and a canned hush settled over the crowd. In that odd moment, Harry heard a soft whirring coming from his left. He turned. Positioned a mere arm's length away, the Snitch gleamed, a bright, golden spark against the sky's dull gray canvas. Its fluttering wings beat a lively, taunting rhythm. Then it dipped, preparing to fly away.

Suddenly oblivious to the numb, raw state of his hands, Harry made an awkward grab for it, but the Snitch, in an oddly human fashion, looked to smile at him before darting off. Harry took off after it, the wind like needle pricks on his exposed skin as he bore down on his Firebolt, accelerating to keep pace.

Then unexpectedly, the Snitch ‘stumbled', buffeted by a powerful crosswind. Bigger and better able to bear the brunt of the fierce gust, Harry pressed on, gaining on the Snitch, so close now he leaned forward, positioning himself to grab it. The screams from Gryffindor began to filter through the wind even as it pounded against his ears. Then, moving in what felt like slow-motion, he shot out his hand and snagged the tiny sphere, clasping it tightly. Shouting at the top of his lungs, Harry pumped his fist above his head. Like a sonic boom, Gryffindors' roaring (helped along by Luna's hat) swelled until it exploded in Harry's ears. It took only seconds for his teammates to collide into him on both sides.

Katie Bell seized him from behind, gluing her chest to his back; Angelina had him in a head-lock planting loud, smacking kisses on his head while screaming herself hoarse; a shivering Demelza floated out to the side, either grimacing or smiling - it was difficult to tell.

"Oy!" Ron yelled, as he tried to squeeze in close to Harry. "Get out of it! Let me in there so I can congratulate my best mate!"

Harry laughed at Ron and tried to disentangle himself from Angelina and Katie who didn't seem to want to let him go. Still, Ron managed to grip Harry in a clumsy bear hug and Harry heartily returned the embrace as best he could.

 "Let's go down and attend to our clamoring public, shall we?" said Angelina, finally setting Harry free.

"Y-y-yes! L-l-let's d-do that!" Demelza said, her teeth chattering loudly.

Everyone laughed and Harry and Ron parted to join them. On the ground, students from all the Houses, save Slytherin, flooded the pitch as the teams landed. Both were quickly swallowed up by their Housemates. Spotting Hermione, Harry grinned as she ran at him, enveloping him in a hug.

"Well done, Harry! You were brilliant!"

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, gripping her tightly.

"Congratulations on a well played match, Harry," said Luna, peeking at the duo through the bit of lion's mane hanging in her face.

"Thanks Luna," Harry said.

"You guys were great, Harry!" Neville grabbed Harry's fist, which was still grasping the Snitch, to shake it. Then, eager to avoid being struck by a flying elbow, Neville ducked out of range when Seamus squeezed up behind him to reach around and pound Harry on the back.

"Bloody brilliant flying, Harry! ‘Cept you could'a been a bit more focused on the doin's in the air instead of in the stands, yeah?" Seamus glanced significantly at Harry and Hermione's joined hands; she was now chatting animatedly with Hannah Abbott and Ernie MacMillan. Harry blushed, and suddenly the cold was not so uncomfortable.

"Hey Ginny, great job," said Dean. Harry turned to look over his right shoulder. Ginny's eyes were glued to his and Hermione's hands. As Hannah and Ernie waved their goodbye's, Hermione moved back to stand beside him.

"Thanks, Dean," Ginny said. Then as if coming to a hasty decision, she kissed him loudly on the mouth. Everyone's eyes widened at the display, the stares nearly as audible as the gasps.

"Oy! Ginny! What the bloody hell? You can't -" Ron roared, but his tirade ended when Lavender flipped a golden lock of hair over her shoulder and smiled at him.

"You were magnificent, Ron!" She squeaked. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away from the spectacle. Movement at the pitch's entrance caught her eye.

"Harry..." she said, then pointed a mittened hand.

Harry turned. Snape. He was about the leave the pitch. The Slytherins had cleared out quickly after Harry caught the Snitch, but Snape had remained. The dreary conditions and his position atop the hill lent the man a spectre-like air as his robes and hair whipped about him. But even from this distance, Harry could see the proud warmth in those black eyes.

Then an idea struck him. Harry grinned and closed his eyes. Opening them, he saw a shocked-looking Snape quickly clench his gloved hand into a fist, as if trying to prevent something escaping. The man took an imperceptible peek inside and Harry thought he saw the thin lips move upward into something like a smile before flattening again into their accustomed thin line.

Snape looked up and lowered his chin at Harry in a sharp nod before striding away. Like smoke, Draco materialized out of the crowd to join him. Recalling the defeated slump of Draco's shoulders that day in the corridor, Harry noted that like Luna, the boy now looked a sight better than he had since the start of term. Deeply curious, but not wanting to give the sight of them together too much credence, Harry watched their backs until they crested the hill and descended out of sight.

*WO

Sixth-Year Boys Dorm, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts, October 1996 (31)

From his bed, Ron regarded Harry pensively. "Does Luna look good to you?"

The book Harry was levitating just missed crashing into his head as he exclaimed, "What?!"

Ron flushed bright red. "Not like that! Least... I hope you're not looking at her like that..."

"'Course not!"

"Oh, well, I was just thinkin' that she looks happier, you know, even with the stuff that's goin' on with her dad."

"That's good, right? It must be hard not knowing where he is or if he's alive."

"No!" Ron sputtered. "I mean, I'm glad she's feeling okay, it's just... she's been hangin' around this guy a lot lately."

Harry smiled to himself. "Darvel Macallan," he said.

"Yeah, um, you know about him?"

Harry raised his head to get a better look at Ron. "I know he's in Ravenclaw; he's a seventh-year, brilliant in Potions. Why?"

"No reason... I just, you know, don't want him winding her up or anything. Her dad's missing."

"The entire school knows that, Ron," Harry said, confident that Ron's curiosity about Darvel Macallan was hardly random.

"Yeah... but, um, Ginny says Luna told her that he's planned some sort of picnic on top of the Astronomy Tower so that he and Luna can sit up all night tonight to keep watch for the Great Pumpkin." Harry raised his eyebrows. "Some Muggle legend or something." Ron clarified, looking as if he found the whole idea ludicrous.

"She says you were nice to her at the Burrow."

Ron looked indignant. "How else was I s'posed to be? I mean, yeah, she's right weird sometimes, but she's all right once you get to know her! She's in Ravenclaw, for Merlin's sake! You have to be a bit barmy being that smart! But," Ron said, having calmed a bit, "she doesn't lord it over you, you know? I don't feel stupid around her."

"I know, Ron. You don't have to convince me," Harry said with a knowing smile. "Hermione say that she talks about you a lot."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Ron's mouth bled into a self-satisfied smile as he lay back on his bed. After a moment he said, "Speakin' of her, what's goin' on with you two?"

Harry felt his head moving back and forth before he could even stop it. "Nothing, really... I don't think."

"Do you want something to be goin' on?"

Harry couldn't deny it. "Yeah, but she's worried about the friendship."

"Didn't seem too worried about it after the match the other day when she was holding your hand." Ron pointed out.

"It was just the match, and stuff." Harry mumbled.

"Even I can tell it's more than that, mate. You best talk to her about it... before someone else does."

"Who?" Harry demanded.

"Lot's of blokes trying to chat her up lately. It's like they know she's not interested, but want to have a go anyway."

"Well, bully for them ‘cause I don't know how bring it up," Harry said with an angry shrug.

"It's Hermione, Harry. Just do it."

Harry grunted in response. Easier said than done.