Harry had barely managed to scrape together his school supplies, and with Hermione's help, he'd mended some of his clothing and put some color back into his robes. He felt that if he was going to catch his father's attention, he should at least look presentable like Calen had last year, so he took care to mend each and every pair of pants he had, and he even borrowed a big permanent Muggle marker from Hermione to color his boots black again where they'd gone gray. He also glued the holes in his shoes closed with ‘Wizard Tight Glue' and prayed they'd hold up, especially when the winter came.

With Harry's newly patched clothing and new plan in mind, he seemed to have some new confidence that drew the other Gryffindor boys in their year to him. It was either that or the Quirril encounter, but Dean and Seamus were talking to him now, asking him questions and laughing with him in the corridors between classes and at meal times. Harry still felt awkward, but he thought if he could just blend, then nobody would see through him to his awkwardness too much.

Unfortunately his blending plan went south only eight days after school started. That's when the Quidditch tryout notices were posted up in the Gryffindor common room.

"We should try out," Ron said with a mouthful of apple Monday afternoon as they stared up at the poster on the overflowing bulletin board.

"For Quidditch?" Harry raised his brows into his long bangs.

"Yeah, why not? Second years are allowed."

"We don't have brooms though."

"No, but there are school brooms. If you're on a team you're allowed to borrow one for the year and stick your name on it. That's what Fred and George do."

"I don't fly that well," Harry said then. He didn't want to be in the spotlight, but Ron seemed eager.

"Liar. I saw you last year during classes. Saw you shoot up there and catch Neville's Remembrall.

Harry scrunched up his nose. Madam Hooch had seen it too and had marched straight out of the castle and chastised him harshly, and he'd vowed never to step a toe out of line again there at Hogwarts... at least until he'd gone to save the Philosopher's stone from Quirril.

"I don't know," Harry said.

"Well at least come and watch me try out."

Harry nodded. "Ok." He thought he could live with that. Thought being the key word.

Tryouts were held that Friday after dinner, and Harry like most of Gryffindor went down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the tryouts. Ron was already down on the field so Harry sat at the edge of the highest stands with Hermione and Ginny to watch.

"You look like you want to try out," Harry said to Ginny, and her cheeks turned red.

"I'm not allowed," she said shyly.

"Well, next year then, yeah?"

She nodded.

Leaning on the rail with his friends as the sun started it's slow descent through the sky, Harry watched as person after person tried for the Seeker position and were sent off the field, several for injuries, two because they just couldn't fly, and Ron for violating the rules before he'd been in the air for two minutes. The last person to try out was a fifth year boy that Harry thought looked far too big to be on a broom let alone play as Seeker. Harry hated to admit it, but playing Quidditch looked fun, and while the others trying out couldn't seem to keep their eye on the Snitch, Harry was sure that he could.

The burly boy climbed onto the school broom and rose into the air and Oliver Wood released the Snitch, the boy taking off after it. Harry was concentrating on the location of the Snitch so hard that he didn't notice that Ron had come up into the stands and was there next to him until he heard him say, "He's too slow. Looks like he's lost it."

Out of the corner of Harry's eye he saw one of the bludgers that Oliver had been letting loose during each tryout. It flew right up to the boy and unseated him from his broom. The boy held on just long enough to get his broom to the stands five or six feet in front of Harry, where he slipped off and fell to the lower stands twenty feet below. Harry didn't know what made him do it, even as he thought back on it in later years, but before he was aware of what he was doing, he was flying through the air from the stands and landing haphazardly on the vacant school broom which was still floating there. It was Hermione's scream and Ron's shout that brought him back to reality, where he was startled to find himself on the broom.

"GO!" Ron shouted and Harry's eyes searched through the waning light for a few seconds until they saw a glint of gold, and then he was off, lying flat to the broom handle, hand outstretched. In less than thirty seconds, he had the Snitch in hand. He had to focus on breathing because it felt like his breath had left him. It was excitement and joy like he'd never known before.

"You there! Get down to the ground!"

Harry gulped. It looked like his moment of triumph was to be short lived, and he descended quickly to the ground, where he watched Oliver Wood stomp over to him angrily.

"What do yeh think that was? It was stupid an dangerous! You're gonna get me banned as Captain pulling stunts like tha!"

Cheeks red, and aware that the whole of Gryffindor were up in the stands watching him along with the team who was now behind Oliver, Harry stared at his shoes and said nothing.

"Well? Answer me then!"

He looked up. "Wh- what was the question?"

Oliver put his hands on his hips and Harry locked eyes with him to avoid looking at the other players.

"What did yeh think yeh were doin?"

"I- I don't know," Harry said. "I was just watching the Snitch, and he fell off the broom, and the next thing I knew I was on the broom and flying after the Snitch. I just had to get it."

Oliver crossed his arms then and turned to look at the rest of the team. "And what did yeh feel when yeh were flyin?"

Harry allowed the feeling of joy and complete freedom to wash over him again temporarily as he thought about his answer.

"That look in his eyes says it," a boy behind Oliver said, and Harry snapped back to reality once again.

"Well?"

"L- love?" Harry said. He'd never said that word out loud. He'd never even really thought it before. But if this is what it felt like, then he wasn't afraid to admit it.

The team laughed and Oliver smirked and for a moment Harry felt embarrassed, but then Oliver stepped forward and patted him on the back.

"Yeh'll have teh save up yer money then, fer a broom."

"A broom?" Harry was feeling confused.

"Yeh made the team Potter... just don' go tellin McGongall how yeh did it."

Feeling in a daze, Harry listened as Oliver told him what the training schedule was and as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny ran up to him a few moments later.

"Wow!" Ron said. "I knew you could fly, but wow!"

Harry didn't hear much else on their way back to the castle as the sun finally set, not even Hermione's stern chastising for jumping out of forty foot high stands onto a broom five feet away. The only thing he did hear was Ginny's silence as they entered the Entrance Hall, and he turned to look at her, only to see her turn bright red and look away. He didn't know what that was about, but it gave him butterflies then and it gave him butterflies thinking about it later.

By morning the story about Harry's success on the Quidditch Pitch had spread to the rest of the school, much to the chargrin of Harry, and as it turned out, of Draco Malfoy and Calen as well. Harry didn't know why Draco was shooting him dirty looks or why Calen had shoved roughly past him at lunch until Ron brought a newly revised Quidditch roster to the table as lunch started.

"Look, you're the third second year to be named Seeker this year! Cedric Diggory's going to be embarrassed if he loses too much this year to second years, especially being a fifth year."

Harry glanced over at the school roster. "Calen and Draco are Seekers too?" His stomach did a fast somersault and he wasn't sure if he felt hungry anymore.

"Yeah, well I wouldn't worry about Draco too much. Fred and George said his dad bought his way onto the team by buying them all new brooms, and I'm not really sure about Calen. I haven't seen him fly, but if Draco's dad bought his way onto the team, it wouldn't surprise me if Professor Snape did it too for Snape Jr."

"That doesn't make any sense Ron," Ginny said. "He wants Slytherin to win."

Ron frowned. "Hey, that's right. So Calen must be bad if he got him onto the Ravenclaw team... insurance that Slytherin would win against Ravenclaw."

"I don't think that's what she was saying," Harry said, and noticed that Ginny had suddenly turned red again.

Over the next few weeks, Harry practiced hard with the team, feeling like he had little time to do anything other than practice and study Potions. He hadn't made it to the library yet to look up information on parents and children, though it was still at the back of his mind, especially with the upcoming match against Ravenclaw, the first match Harry would play in. He felt like there was a big dilemma. On the one hand, he couldn't let his team down, and didn't want to. He wanted to win more than anything else, especially since he felt it would mean proving himself to his father, who would surely be there to watch. On the other hand, if he won and beat Calen, he thought it would make his father hate him just a little more. It seemed like a lose-lose situation, but one he'd need to deal with either way.

By the time the match rolled around on Saturday, Harry had decided to do his best no matter what and let that decide the outcome.

During the game he couldn't help but look over to the stands where the majority of the Professors were sitting when he flew close enough to see their faces, but Snape was always looking off in the distance, most likely towards Calen. Professor August had given Harry a wave and a smile though and it gave him some cheer to know that at least someone was rooting for him.

Calen didn't look happy throughout the match, but he did seem as determined as ever, chasing Harry up and down the pitch and cutting him off any time he thought Harry had seen the Snitch. After only ten minutes though, Harry had grabbed the Snitch out of the air from above the Ravenclaw Keeper's right shoulder, and won the game. He was feeling mixed emotions about it though, as his brother looked downtrodden and Harry's eyes traveled up to the stands to where he knew Professor Snape surely wasn't happy, though everyone was too far away for him to make out.

Harry's team was quite happy with their first win of the season though, and though Harry knew none of them were really his friends, it was nice to pretend for a little while, while they slapped him on the back and congratulated him, telling him how good a Seeker he was. He wasn't able to get to Ron and Hermione after the game, not knowing where they were in the crowd that was now exciting the Pitch, so he ended up making his way back up to the castle amongst the crowd without his friends. Just as he was nearing the steps leading up into the castle, someone shoved roughly into him, knocking him and his broom to the ground.

"Just because Calen sucks doesn't mean I will," came Draco Malfoy's voice from above.

Harry looked up and felt he had the better sense to stay down lest he be pushed down again. When Draco saw that Harry was content not to say anything or get bent out of shape, he moved on, and Harry got up off the ground. Almost as soon as he had, a friendlier voice met his ears.

"Good game Harry. All right?"

He looked up to see Professor August smiling at him again. "Yes sir."

They let the last few students pass, including Professor Lockhart, who was regaling a group of third year girls with tales of how he'd defeated a hoard of banshees in an old hotel in London.

"How has your year been so far Harry?" August asked.

Harry shrugged. They'd only been back for a month and a half, and his bruises from Dudley and Uncle Vernon were almost gone, so that was good he supposed, but he didn't mention it to August.

"Well you got on the team didn't you?"

Harry did smile a little at that. "I didn't even try out, it was sorta just... an accident."

"I heard," August said with a chuckle.

Harry scanned the hall for Ron, Hermione, or Ginny but didn't see them amongst the students who were standing around talking.

"Well Harry, I'd best be off. I'm heading out for the rest of the weekend and I've still got to pack. I'm glad I got to stay to see you play though."

Looking up just in time to see August's smile again, Harry nodded and gave a little wave as August went up the grand staircase and disappeared from sight. Harry was thinking about heading to Gryffindor tower to change out of his gear so he could go to lunch, but Professor Snape's voice caught his attention. He looked around but couldn't see him. Maybe he was down the stairwell leading into the dungeons. The voice had been faint.

Moving to the entrance leading to the Dungeons, Harry paused as he heard his father's voice again. It was gentle and soothing, and Harry wished it was meant for him. Snape always talked so harshly to him during classes, no matter how well he did. Earlier in the week he'd reprimanded Harry for his tie looking dirty. It wasn't Harry's fault that it was stained. He couldn't afford a new one, and no matter how hard he had tried to spell it out, it stubbornly remained.

Ears perked as Harry tried to look innocuous standing there eavesdropping in the Entrance Hall, he heard Calen's voice faintly but couldn't hear what he'd said.

"Do not worry yourself over it," Snape said. "You will win next time. You still played a good game."

Harry heard another mumble from Calen, and then, "Potter is an insolent fool. He is lucky, not talented. The only reason he got onto the team is because they felt sorry for him. You got in because you're talented."

Harry felt stricken then, as though someone had suddenly taken an ice cold knife and stabbed him in the heart from behind. He straightened up so tight he thought his muscles would actually scream out in protest, and his breath caught in his throat. He heard footsteps then from the stairwell and hurried off, still feeling unable to breath. Up in his dorm room, Harry frantically ripped off his padding and equipment and threw each piece to the floor, out of breath.

Harry was shocked and disappointed, but he was surprised to feel angry as well. He didn't think he'd gotten in on pity, though now that he'd heard Snape's words, he started to doubt the talent people kept saying he had. Standing there by himself, Harry's mind worked frantically for anything he could remember about the day he'd tried out, anything that would prove his father was telling the truth, but he could think of nothing. The anger began bubbling hotter in his stomach and as soon as it did he felt even more determined to prove to Snape that he was his son. He'd prove that he was wrong and that he had talent, more talent than stupid Calen. Then he'd be praising Harry instead of Calen.

Remembering his quest to find out how he could be Snape's son, Harry grabbed a notebook and quill and stormed out of the room. Ron and Hermione didn't find him until after dinner that night, where Harry sat at the back of the library surrounded by stacks of books that he insisted weren't his. They wouldn't understand, Harry told himself when Hermione read the titles of a few of them. Not only that, but this was his secret. He didn't want them to ruin things for him in some way, not that they would mean to, but if Calen caught wind that Harry was trying to be claimed as Snape's son too, he could do some serious damage since he was already on the inside. No, he'd keep researching on his own, even if he did envy Hermione's ability to find information he would need in obscure books.