Chapter 7
Harry stood there dumbfounded not sure what to do or say. Finally he stammered, "Are you asking me out?"
"Yes," Hermione answered succinctly.
"Are you sure? Don't you mean to ask Daniel?"
Hermione threw him a nasty look. "I'm asking you, Harry Potter, so yes, I'm sure."
"Why do you want to go out with me?" Harry asked, suddenly suspicious. "I'm a real nobody."
"Because," Hermione said, pausing as she looked around the common room before meeting his gaze again. "You intrigued me."
Harry scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the board. "Yeah, right."
She huffed irritably and reached to grab the paper from his fist. He held his arm up, removing the tryout notice from her reach. He wasn't about to let her post it on the billboard for others to see. It was rightfully his spot and he'd be damned before he let some silly little second year get it.
"What's in your hand, Harry?" Hermione demanded bossily, trying to capture it from him again.
"Nothing that concerns you."
She opened her mouth to say something and Harry cut her off. "And don't say, 'I'm Headgirl, of course it's my business.'"
"But I am, and it is!" Hermione stated, looking as vexed as she probably felt.
Harry stuffed it into a robe pocket and looked at her smugly. "So? Not everything I do involves you, Granger."
Her mouth twitched in annoyance and her hair bristled. "Hermione."
"Hermione," Harry parroted.
"Are you coming with me to Hogsmeade next Saturday or not?" Hermione asked after a moment.
"Why?"
"Why!" Hermione exclaimed, her face reddening. "Because, that's why!"
"Because isn't a very good reason," Harry pointed out, shifting his weight as he watched her face.
Hermione blushed and looked extremely uncomfortable for several minutes before she said in a very small voice, "If you're going to say no, please just tell me so I can go upstairs and go to sleep?"
Harry watched her look at the floor between her feet and then at the spitting fireplace and at the stairway longingly. Finally taking pity on her discomfort, he answered, "If you're sure then. Okay. I'll go."
Her beaming smile almost made it worth it he thought, as she rattled off some time and place to meet her. She dashed up to the girls' dormitories before he had a chance to respond. Harry scratched his neck, watching the top of the staircase where he'd just seen her disappear around not a moment ago. He couldn't even recall what she'd said after he had agreed to go with her. He still didn't understand why he agreed to go with her especially considering her rather high-handed treatment earlier.
Harry sighed and spun around to make his way up to his dormitory. As he climbed he pulled out the wrinkled mess that was the notice for seeker tryouts to stare at it hatefully. He was going to have to corner Cornfoot tomorrow and that wasn't going to be fun. Wearily he opened the door to the seventh year boys' dorm and got into bed without changing his clothes.
In what seemed like no time at all, Harry woke to the sound of something softly tapping against the window by his bed. He squinted blearily as he sat up and searched for his glasses. They were wedged under his pillow and he put them on, looking over at the source of the noise.
"Hedwig!" Harry called out in surprise, hurrying over and unlatching the window. "Hey girl, what's going on?"
Hedwig chirped up at him as he brought her inside the dormitory and shut the window. She hopped from his forearm to his shoulder as he rummaged through his trunk. He pulled out clean school robes, pants, and a white shirt. A quick repairo fixed his trainers and he scooped them up into his arms. Hedwig hopped to the top of his head and hooted.
Harry rolled his eyes at her and made his way into the bathroom. Once the door was shut, Hedwig dislodged herself and took up residence on the towel rack. Harry set his things down and cast a wordless locking charm at the door and took off his clothes from last night. He gave Hedwig a pat on the head in passing and climbed into the shower.
A few minutes were spent fiddling with the tricky knob before warm water started coming out of the shower head. Harry decided to take his time this morning. Catching water droplets on the tip of his fingers, Harry enjoyed the tingling feeling the spray created. After several indulgent minutes of standing there and soaking under the water, Harry quickly scrubbed his hair and body and got out.
Hedwig looked a little damp when he got out, causing Harry to laugh at her extremely grumpy face. She hooted cantankerously at him while he got ready; using the toilet and brushing his teeth. It was all he could do to stop himself from making a patronizing comment and getting her angry at him.
Harry pulled his pants on and picked up his wand casting a lather charm and a shaving charm. He ran a hand over his chin checking for stubble. Satisfied at the smooth line of skin, Harry tossed his shirt on and pulled his robes over his head.
He made his way down to the kitchens with Hedwig perched on his shoulder. Her mood being slightly less grouchy after he handfed her a few owl treats back in the dorm room. Behind the picture of the fruit bowl, several house elves gleefully put together an English breakfast for him, which he ate with relish. He passed several bites over to Hedwig and asked for seconds, which appeared before he finished his sentence.
When he was done, he thanked Swibby and the other elves, then drained the last of his orange juice and headed out the way he came. Harry stopped by Myrtle's lavatory on the second floor to inspect the progress and was pleased to note that he had less than a week to go to finish it off. Harry was excited. By late Sunday he could be doing the ritual and getting the results.
Harry left the Chamber and proceeded to the library to return to the Restricted Section, So You Want to Become a Dark Lord? and The Unforgiveables and Other Unsavory Curses. Harry was starting to think that a Horcrux wasn't a single spell cast on an item, but was more ritualistic in its creation. He would begin his next search under dark rituals.
Madam Pince was nowhere to be seen, much to Harry's relief. He had begun to think that the librarian had a seventh sense and could sniff him out just like Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat. After one more furtive look around to make sure nobody was watching him, Harry snuck into the Restricted Section and exchanged his books for new ones and left.
Classes started as usual with Professor McGonagall teaching a thrilling lesson on magical-animal-to-magical-animal Transfigurations. Harry found his attention wandering over to a bushy haired Headgirl one too many times for his personal comfort before class ended. He also found himself following behind her to Charms and sitting two desks behind her, just so he could watch the back of her head again.
By the time lunch came around, Harry thought his reactions around Hermione were getting a tad ridiculous and he forced himself away from the Great Hall. He spent lunch in the kitchens again and spent the rest of the time before Potions in the Chamber of Secrets working on the potential potion.
In Potions, Harry sat himself as far away from Hermione as possible so that he could concentrate on brewing the Gibbering Gabber potion Snape had assigned them. It was a particularly violent potion that seemed to want to hurl itself out of the cauldron and onto you if you so much as stirred half a rotation more than required. As it was, it hardly mattered, because Professor Snape deducted ten points from Ravenclaw and cleared the whole thing away with an evanesco.
The rest of the week followed similarly with the exception of the blow up Harry had with Cornfoot Tuesday night. Another notice had appeared on the board and Harry had corned Stephen after Defense Against the Dark Arts in the hallway beside the classroom. Apparently the goal this year was to have 'Ravenclaw win the cup' and to do that they needed 'the best seeker the house could provide.' Harry red-faced and fuming had informed Cornfoot about his track record to which the captain had replied that understudy or not, he, Harry, wasn't going to be seeker without official tryouts.
It was now the day of tryouts for the Ravenclaw seeker position, and grudgingly Harry was out standing on the pitch. Beside him on either side were younger hopefuls. Some of them, like him, were holding school issued brooms, and others shiny store-bought ones. Most were chattering excitedly with their friends about their chances of being picked for the team.
Cornfoot stepped away from the rest of the team to stand in front of them. Harry thought he looked like a right smug bastard standing there wearing his Quidditch robes with a large 'C' on the front of them designating him as captain. The rest of the Ravenclaw team formed a line behind him as he walked up and down before them.
"You're all here today because you want to be Ravenclaw's star seeker, but do you have what it takes?"
An affirmative cheer rose up from the potential players. Cornfoot planted his feet and faced off once again. Wind ruffled his hair as he asked them once again if they had what it took. The resulting cry was deafening to Harry and he winced.
"I sure hope so!" Stephen bellowed, swinging a leg over his broom stick. "All you wannabes, mount your brooms!"
Harry got on his Cleansweap and took to the air, circling high above the stadium. He watched from above as Stephen called to Anthony Goldstein, his fellow beater, to release the five practice snitches. Beside Goldstein, Su Li was handing out beater's bats the rest of the Ravenclaw team.
"Oi! Pay attention! Those that catch a snitch can stay for round two, and all others will be dismissed. If you get knocked off your broom by a bludger, leave the pitch as you are dismissed for poor broom handling. Understood?"
Harry nodded his head along with his fellow seekers. He was going to try to get two snitches at the least. While waiting for Cornfoot's announcement that they could start seeking, he was already scanning the pitch, looking for a hint of gold. When he got the signal, Harry took off to the end of the pitch and the glitter of gold by the goalposts. Several first timers chased after him before they even checked to see if there was a snitch to chase.
Harry was hoping to draw them into crossfire as the team set up around the pitch and started knocking bludgers wildly around. A bludger whizzed along side him before Harry pulled a sharp dive on the Cleansweap and got out of the way. By the time he got to the hoops there was no snitch to be seen and Harry cursed his timing and slow broom handling.
Quickly, he pulled up and started scanning again. Born with the body of a seeker and instinctual flying abilities, Harry was fast on his old broom. He knew what it could do and what it couldn't and used that knowledge to his advantage against the newbies out there on never before handled brooms. A flawlessly executed sloth-grip got him out of the way of two incoming bludgers that went on to knock two girls off their brooms.
Harry spared a glance downward to see that Cornfoot caught them all right, before darting his way through the other flyers. The sound of beating wings alerted Harry to the fact that a snitch was near him. He slowed down and started looking around. His sharp eyes found it three feet below him. Harry dived and swiftly caught it.
He tapped the golden ball twice with his wand and it folded its wings and shut down. Harry stored it in an inside pocket of his robes and felt its weight bump gently against his side. Wheeling around, Harry shot off down the pitch looking for another snitch. He didn't know how many had been caught, but until the whistle sounded, Harry was going to assume that there was one more out there to be found.
By the time the whistle did go off, Harry had three golden balls weighing his inner pocket down. He brought his broom around back to Cornfoot and alighted. Stephen asked for those that caught snitches to remain and for the others to hit the showers and take positions either in the stands or leave the pitch entirely.
Harry took out the three golden snitches from his pocket and held them out to the seventh year captain. He took immense pleasure in Cornfoot's rounded eyes and shaking fingers as he took the snitches away. The other seeker, a fourth year Harry didn't know the name of, handed over two. The look of relief passing over Stephen's face was enough to make Harry suspicious.
"Well two seekers remain," Cornfoot said finally, flashing an insincere smile at Harry. "We go into final death!"
"Great!" piped up the red-headed boy beside him, shifting his shiny broom to his other shoulder. "What are we gonna do?"
"I'm going to release one snitch and it's a race to see which of you catch it first."
"Cool," breathed the boy beside him, situating himself onto his broom.
Harry copied and took off after the release. The snitch hadn't had long to disappear, but disappear it did. Harry sometimes suspected disillusionment charms were on the tiny golden ball as well as timed Apparition jumps. Harry flew higher then his opponent, knowing he could practically freefall with the Cleansweap and still pull out of the dive unscathed.
Half an hour later, after lazily circling the pitch, Harry spotted the snitch. It was between the Slytherin stands and the professors' and parents' stand. Vaguely, he heard yelling, but Harry tuned it out, focused on capturing the snitch. He was peripherally aware of his competition but wasn't worried. Even on a new broom, the kid couldn't catch him.
Harry fell from the sky, picking up speed and racing toward the stands. He watched it swerve and tugged on his broom, following easily. A bludger appeared out of nowhere startling Harry. He veered to the left and nearly crashed into the stands. Kicking off of them, Harry flew back towards the center of the pitch prepared to play chicken with the newcomer if he had to so that he could nab the snitch.
The kid didn't pull out of the chase as Harry came hurtling toward him. The snitch darted left and right and dodged up. Harry followed, cursing the drag of his broom as the kid pulled alongside him. He could see the snitch, just up ahead, and Harry let go of his broom in preparation. Inching up the broom, Harry struggled with the Cleansweap to keep climbing without falling behind.
If there was any limitation to the Cleansweap series it was the tail drag. It made climbing in the air a royal bitch. Harry screwed his face up in concentration and used his longer arm reach to snatch the snitch right from under the fourth year's nose. A sense of victory grew inside him, escalating as he spiraled down to meet the others. He grinned fiercely as his landed, holding out his hand with the snitch, knowing that he'd just won his position on the team.
"Thanks, Potter," Cornfoot grimaced. "I'll let you both know, which of you won the spot after you freshen up."
Harry nodded, still grinning. He shook hands with the kid across from him, no longer resenting the poor blighter for trying. Harry walked off to the locker room and replaced the broom in the store cupboard. He pulled off his sticky second string robes and laid them out on the bench in front of his locker. Whistling jauntily, Harry grabbed his shampoo and soap and made his way into the shower room.
Ten minutes later, Harry was back on the pitch, his hair still wet and drying all over the place. The kid was next to him, looking slightly glum. Harry didn't feel bad at all for trouncing the kid on the pitch. The boy was good and with a year playing as second string; could be fine tuned into a brilliant seeker.
"Well, we've made our decision," Cornfoot stated upon the younger boy's return. "That is to say, myself and the rest of the team. We're very proud of our chosen seeker, who was fast, diligent, and brilliant!"
Harry swelled with pride. Finally, he was getting the recognition he deserved after so long.
"Welcome to the team, Blake."
The kid beside him perked up and practically jumped on top of the others in his enthusiasm. Harry however was standing stone still, watching the Ravenclaw team congratulate their new member. His face darkened as his temper rose. Harry swung Cornfoot around by the neck of his robes.
"What's the big idea, Cornfoot? I just beat that kid hands down in both rounds. You can't just give away my position. I should be seeker, damn it."
Cornfoot extracted himself from Harry's grip on his collar and brushed himself off. "That kid nearly beat you and with a little training will not only help us win the cup this year but also in the years to come. We don't need or want a seventh year seeker who has never played anything but understudy."
Harry stepped into Cornfoot and looked up at the bleach blond. "I have never lost a snitch in my life. That little punk should be second string and you know it--"
"I know nothing of the sort, Potter. Besides the team and I have made our decision and it's final. Get off our pitch, and clean out your locker."
Harry's eyes burned as he spun around and marched off the pitch heading back towards the castle. He couldn't believe it! Those ruddy gits! Well, who needed them! Who needed Quidditch! Bloody fucking sport anyway! Harry stormed through the entrance hall and up the staircase wearing a scowl the whole way.
He passed Hermione on her way down the stairs halfway to the common room and kept going. He wanted nothing to do with anyone, least of all Hermione. Suddenly, Harry turned about and stomped down the staircases quickly, finding Hermione two floors below. He grabbed her arm and ignored her startled shriek.
"I've changed my mind about Hogsmeade," Harry growled, dropping his hand. "Go with somebody else, I'm busy."
Harry ran up the stairs then ignoring the bossy way she shouted his name. Magic was rippling inside and around him by the time he reached the corridor leading to the Ravenclaw common room. His glower at the librarian portrait and his terse demand for entrance had her cowering in the corner of her frame.
"Open the bloody door! Pierre Bonacord!"
"If only you were in as good accord!" she huffed, opening the door as she patted down her frazzled hair.
Harry didn't answer her as he tromped through to the common room.
"Well, he certainly is acting like a Supreme Mugwamp," she said under her breath as she shut the portal.
Harry ignored her and weaved his way between the blue and bronze hodgepodge sofas and furniture. He ran up the stairs to the boys' dormitories and slammed through the doorway to his room. One look at Stephen's side of the room had Harry snarling in disgust. He waved his wand and the boy's bed collapsed.
Fire was set to it next as Harry systematically went about destroying Cornfoot's things. His rage unabated, spilled over to Kevin Entwhistle, a chaser on the team. Harry trashed Entwhistle's things until he collapsed onto his own bed and he beat at the pillow, pounding it into submission.
The door creaked open and a female squeak sounded. Harry muttered under his breath and waved his hand over his head. The door slammed and his curtains whizzed shut, leaving him in gloom. He felt like sulking and not even Granger would be allowed to pass judgment on him.
The door opened again and footsteps shuffled into the room. Harry sighed and sat up, poking his head through the curtains. "You do realize girls are not allowed in the boys' dormitories. Not even Headgirls."
"Yes, I know," Hermione said, as she gingerly picked her way through the mess he created and came over to him. "But I think I deserve an explanation for you ditching me tomorrow."
Harry pulled the curtains back and sat forward on the bed. Hermione took a seat next to him and shifted so she was facing him. She stayed silent watching him until he cracked and told her about tryouts and the foul play that had taken place. As he talked, he started casting clean-up charms all over the room, putting it back together the way it was before his temper tantrum. In no time at all the room was looking like its usual messy self.
Cornfoot's bed reassembled itself--the mattress and sheets looking good as new. You wouldn't have been able to tell it had been burned to ashes. Ripped posters rejoined themselves seamlessly and broken items collected their pieces from all over the dorm room before aligning together and fixing.
"The fourth year boy, Blake, was given my spot on the team," Harry finished, sitting back and laughing bitterly. "I really don't know why I thought I could actually be on the team. It's not like this sort of thing hasn't happened before."
Harry turned his head to look at Hermione to see how she was taking his news. He was surprised to see her face a violent shade of red. Her hair was standing on end, practically sparking with electricity. She was frowning so severely, Harry was sure she'd give herself a headache.
"Anyway," Harry said, "I'm not going to be good company tomorrow and--"
Hermione exploded then, startling Harry. "Why that no good, two-faced twerp!"
"Who? Corn--"
"How could he do that to you? You rightfully earned your spot on the team and he just hands it over to some snot-nosed kid?"
"Well, yeah--"
"And you just let him!"
"I didn't let him! The whole team--"
"Why haven't you gone to our Head of House?" Hermione demanded, sitting up on her knees, her finger in his face.
Harry averted his gaze from her face and glowered at his bed. "What's the point?"
"What's the point!" Hermione shouted. "Justice! Fair-play! Equality and--"
"It's not going to do any good, Hermione," Harry inserted firmly.
"But you just can't give up!" Hermione said, aghast.
Harry shrugged irritably. "I've gone to Flitwick before and I have just been disappointed. Besides, why play when all the fun has been taken out of it?"
Hermione sank down onto the mattress, her hair deflating a little bit. "How often has stuff like this happened to you, Harry?"
Harry glanced at her face and ran a hand through his hair. "Often enough, that I should expect it by now."
"I'm so sorry," Hermione said softly, reaching out to comfort him.
Harry looked down at the petite hand resting on the curve of his elbow. It was surprisingly warm, he thought as he looked up at her. Hermione's brown eyes were sincere with her sympathy and Harry caught himself thinking how lovely they were. She squeezed his arm and Harry looked away to the wall.
"If you still want me to," Harry said a few minutes later, after letting some of his anger slip away. "I'll come with you to Hogsmeade tomorrow."
Hermione smiled brilliantly at him and removed her hand. "Are you going to be moody and grumpy all day?" she teased.
Harry laughed, suppressing leftover bitterness. "I'll try hard not to be."
"Yes," she stated simply. "I would love it if you would come with me tomorrow."