Order of the Phoenix
The Elections Were Rigged
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Ten
~ The Elections Were Rigged ~
"I still can't believe you did that to Malfoy," Hermione told Harry several weeks later, something of a repeated proclamation.
It was now the last week of September, and the entire group of fourth to seventh-year Gryffindors were heading back to the common room after that evening's Practical Fighting Techniques class. It had taken a couple of weeks but the rest of the school had finally come to terms with the fact that Harry was now the most dangerous wizard any of them knew. Even more so than Voldemort since, despite Dumbledore's repeated cautions, very few people were fully convinced of the Dark Lord's return.
"Mione," complained Ron, "don't ruin the memory."
"Yeah," agreed Seamus, "only thing that could've been better would have been another appearance by the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."
Harry smiled at Ginny, who was walking beside him, between Hermione and him. "I didn't put him through anything he didn't deserve."
True enough, Ginny silently agreed. After coming close to being skinned alive by Harry, Malfoy had been avoiding the Gryffindors ever since he left the hospital wing. Unfortunately this did not extend to avoiding the nightly Practical Fighting Techniques classes, which he continued to attend.
"You turned him into a pincushion!" crowed Colin Creevey from behind them.
"No I didn't!" protested Harry, good-naturedly. "To turn him into a pincushion I would've had to jab at him with the sword a few times. I did not stick my sword into Malfoy."
The moment the words left his mouth Ginny heard his jaw snap shut as a mischievous silence descended over the group. Fred and George were both grinning broadly and evilly at Harry, rubbing their hands in devilish anticipation as they chortled knowingly.
"One word, either of you," cautioned Harry, "and I'll be bringing the katana out tomorrow night for a demonstration on fighting two opponents at the same time. You two will be the volunteers."
"Aw, you never let us have any fun," pouted George, as Fred crossed his arms.
"And for good reason," affirmed Ginny, glaring at her brothers in a manner similar to that used by her mother on occasion. "Besides... Malfoy? Ewww."
From behind them a voice piped up, drawing their attention back to Jefferson Hope, a stocky fourth-year boy. He currently had an arm around Colin's shoulders and the other around Neville's, hobbling his way after the rest of the group with a slightly strained ankle. At any other point in Hogwarts history he would have been off to the infirmary to see to his injury, but injuries of this sort had become so commonplace during Practical Fighting Techniques that, after the first week of being inundated by patients, Madam Pomfrey had tossed her toys out of her cot and laid down a list of injuries she would not treat immediately.
"Basically," she had put it, "if you're not bleeding, you're not getting in until morning!"
The students had been dismayed, but were even more so when Harry agreed wholeheartedly with her, albeit for completely different reasons. Apparently he thought the lack of immediate healing would be good motivation for his pupils to put more effort into their work in order to avoid spending an uncomfortable night waiting for Madam Pomfrey's ministrations the next morning.
Not that it helped all that much, as Harry certainly kept to his promise. His classes were brutal enough that half a dozen Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws stopped attending the first week. Since then the number of drop-outs had declined, and it had been nearly a week since they lost anyone else. Still, every student taking Practical Fighting Techniques had visited the infirmary, including Ron and Hermione. The only person to have escaped a night's incarceration with Madam Pomfrey had been Ginny, though nobody could claim Harry went easy on her in any way. Harry had no favourites, unlike Professor Snape, and pushed everyone to their limits.
"Madam Pomfrey counted a hundred cuts on him!" declared Jefferson, wobbling between Colin and Neville as they helped him along.
"Two hundred, I heard," put in Colin, beaming at Harry in admiration.
Harry chuckled and explained, "It was the Slytherin in me."
Ginny snorted in scornful disbelief, "I don't believe there's a single truly Slytherin bone in your body."
"Don't be too sure, Gin," Harry replied. "Don't be too sure."
*Quite true,* whispered a soft voice in the recesses of Ginny's mind, *That boy is very devious when the occasion calls for it.*
Ginny had to agree with this unusually detached thought. She seemed to be having a lot of them, ever since Harry had imparted some of his essence into her. For the most part she ignored these half-heard whispers, taking them as some sort of side effect from the process, only one not as useful as the others, she was discovering.
Just as Riddle had left her with the ability to speak and understand Parseltongue, so had Harry left her with a variety of new talents. An astonishingly wide variety to tell the truth.
Ginny had not really noticed it at first, with the exception of the mind-boggling sword fighting display she and Harry had engaged in that first night. It had started innocently enough with him offering to give her a few pointers, after she had noticed the swords resting in a small cabinet to one side of his desk. After that, things had rapidly progressed to the point where the other students attending the class had arrived and well... the entire school knew what had happened next.
Practical Fighting Techniques’ first and, thus far, only sword fighting lesson.
But that had been only the beginning however. Since then, over the past few weeks, Ginny had found herself performing remarkably well in all her subjects, particularly Defence Against the Dark Arts. She still cringed at the memory of when she had accidentally blown Professor Lupin across his classroom, rendering him unconscious and bedridden in the infirmary for the remainder of the day. He was surprisingly cheerful and understanding about the incident, although no longer took to asking Ginny to help demonstrate in front of the class.
She was also finding Transfiguration and Charms increasingly easy and had taken to spending her time in those classes helping her classmates, since she invariably finished any exercises laid out before the others did. As with DADA there had been one or two minor accidents, most notably the occasion when Ginny was supposed to animate a small - it fit in her hand - statue of a griffin. Instead of simply animating the statue she had accomplished somewhat more, actually changing the statue into a real, live griffin, which had then proceeded to wreck the classroom. Filch had grumbled for days and still glared at her when he saw her.
The whole thing caused Ginny to pause and wonder occasionally. If having only a part of Harry inside her was doing this, just how powerful was Harry?
The other changes, mostly physical ones, were more subtle, and Ginny attributed them to her now being a member of the still mysterious Order of the Phoenix. Despite the fact that she was part of the Order, she knew disturbingly little about it.
She could not be entirely sure, having nothing to measure against, but Ginny thought she had grown perhaps an inch or two since that night. It could have been the Order or simply one of those "growth spurts" she had heard about. She could clearly see, when dressing before a mirror in the mornings, the satisfying increases in her muscle tone and definition. Ginny took after her father, being tall and slender, as did Ron, Percy and Bill, but in the past month she had filled out in just the right places to give her a curvaceous, yet athletic figure.
Everyone had noticed, particularly her brothers. Aware of the looks their baby sister was drawing from the rest of the male population, Fred, George and Ron had taken to patrolling about her like soldiers guarding a precious jewel. The only person, the only boy, they seemed willing to leave her alone with for any period of time was Harry.
If only they knew, she mused, smiling to herself as the group reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, diligently guarding the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Ginny and Harry flirted outrageously when they were alone and often continued even when in the presence of others, although in a somewhat more subdued tone. Harry, it seemed, loved to lace his words with double meanings, a habit that Ginny found herself beginning to emulate.
It was Neville that strode forward eager to show his housemates that, for once, he remembered the password. "Finis Coronat Opus!"
The Fat Lady arched an eyebrow and shook her head mournfully. Neville stared at her for a moment, waiting, and then turned to the rest of the Gryffindors.
"Why isn't she opening?"
Harry sighed. "Today was Monday, Neville," he told the puzzled boy. "The password's changed, remember? We're using the one I posted up this morning, not Hermione's one from last week."
Neville snapped his fingers and covered his eyes with the other hand. "Bugger."
Everyone exchanged amused looks. Neville was famous for forgetting the password into the common room, but this was the first time anyone could recall him cursing about it. He was simply too mild-mannered to use explicit language and even such a mild cuss seemed odd, yet amusing, when uttered by the usually soft-spoken boy.
"Imperial Arch Griffin," Harry told the Fat Lady after a moment, giving the new password he had set that morning. Gracing them with a smile and a wave to bid them entry, the portrait swung open, and one after the other the Gryffindors pulled themselves into the common room.
"Oi, Harry!" called Fred as Harry, along with Ron and the other fifth year boys started up the stairs to their dormitory. "Hang on a minute, please. We've something of an announcement to make. Everyone else might want to stick around and hear it too."
Ginny watched, wondering what was up, as Harry turned to find himself confronted by the twins and Gryffindor's three Chasers, Alicia, Angelina and Katie. The five seventh-years stood in the centre of the common room with serious expressions on their faces as Harry made his way down the few steps he had climbed and walked towards them.
"As you are all no doubt aware," announced George, stepping up to stand at Harry's right side, whilst Fred moved to stand at Harry's left.
"Young Harry, here," continued Fred, "is the star Seeker of our Quidditch team-"
"Has been for five years now-"
"Counting last year-"
"Even though there wasn't any Quidditch to speak of-"
"And, as most of you are aware, our delightful, if maniacal, captain-"
"Oliver Wood, has since left school-"
"And gone onto greater, if less exciting, things-"
"Which leaves us with something of a dilema-"
"One that we have, fortunately enough, been able to solve-"
"And so it is with great pleasure-"
"And a trifle amount of trepidation-"
"That we are pleased to announce-"
"The selection of Gryffindor's new Quidditch captain-"
"Harry James Potter!" concluded George, with a bow and flourish.
The common room was swept up in a wave of cheers as the Gryffindors cheered their new captain on his appointment. Harry was quickly engulfed by Ron, Hermione and then Ginny, as others came up to offer congratulations with either a handshake, a clap on the back or, in the case of most of the girls, a kiss. Suffice to say by the end of it all, both Harry and Ginny were both quite red in the face, although for completely different reasons.
What do they think they're doing? Ginny all but growled, scowling fiercely at the girls who had graced Harry with kisses. For a moment her mind was awash with images of turning Lavender and Parvati into Amazing Bouncing Peacocks, but she clamped down on this urge, took a deep breath and tried to relax about it.
*My girl,* spoke a soothing whisper. *You need to calm down. You're getting as excitable as that brother of yours.*
Truth be told, Ron wasn't looking that excited about Harry's appointment as the new Quidditch captain. His smile seemed a bit forced and his eyes seemed to hold a trace of disappointment in them as he backed away from his overwhelmed friend to stand next to Hermione.
Finally freed from the grasps his well-wishers, Harry turned to the other five members of the Quidditch team. "When did you lot decide this?" he asked, clearly stunned by their decision.
"Yesterday," answered Fred. "The whole team took a vote and it was unanimous. Seven votes for Harry Potter."
"Seven? Wood's left, so it's only the six of us, and I don't remember casting a ballot, so there should only be five votes."
"Actually," admitted Katie, "we owled Oliver and asked him for his recommendation. You were it."
George nodded vigorously, "Plus, as our resident expert in strategy and what not, you have to admit you're the one best suited for the job. There's no rule that says you can't vote for yourself, so we did it for you."
Harry looked from George to Fred to Alicia to Katie to Angelina and then back to George, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in disbelief.
"You are nuts. Absolutely bonkers."
"Maybe," agreed George, "But we're definitely going to win the Quidditch Cup if you say yes."
Harry shot his team mates an incredulous glance, shook his head and laughed silently before he gave a consenting nod, "Okay. Practice starts tomorrow morning at five."
"WHAT?!?!"
***
Harry sat upon his Firebolt, hovering a hundred feet above the centre of the Quidditch pitch, watching as the early morning sunlight gleamed off the light frost coating the ground. It was the first Saturday of October, the day when the rest of Gryffindor would get their chances to show Harry, and the rest of the Quidditch team, what they were capable of.
He had been up since just before sunrise, as was his usual habit these days, and had spent the time flying on his broom. It had been a long time since Harry had had a chance to stretch his proverbial wings and he found the experience even more enjoyable because of it. After nearly two hours of dives, rolls and any other manoeuvres he could think of Harry had settled down and flown lazily about, just enjoying the sensations.
Up here, in the air, he felt so free and unburdened by worries. A far cry from when he was still on the ground. Everything was that much simpler when he was flying.
*You really need to tell someone about these nightmares of yours, Harry.*
What nightmares? he asked evasively.
*Harry, we may not be able to see into your dreams,* admitted Alex, *but we know you're having trouble sleeping.*
*Two hours a night. Even with the Order's power sustaining you...*
I'm just restless, that's all.
*You wake up every time in a cold sweat.*
*We know zese nightmares 'ave nothing to do wiz Voldemort,* elaborated Joan. *We would know if your scar waz 'urting you, zo we figure zey must be about somezing else...*
Drop it.
*Harry...*
Drop it!
Harry had just spotted the bulk of Gryffindor house coming out onto the pitch, replete after a doubtless hearty breakfast. Looking at the crowd, he could make out the red hair of Ron and Ginny, with Hermione's mousy brown bush beside them. Ron, who was planning on trying out for a position on the team, had his Comet 260 in hand. But the real surprise was that Ginny was trudging along with her old Cleansweep Five slung carelessly over her shoulders.
Spotting the other five members of the team exiting the locker rooms in their red Quidditch robes, Harry began to descend. He spiralled down to where everyone was waiting, jumping off his broom while still ten feet up to land lightly on his feet. His broom cruised to a halt beside him, hovering rock steady at waist height.
"All right," he announced loudly enough for everyone to hear him, "if you're not trying out can you please go and sit in the stands? I'd like only people who want to be on the team on the pitch."
The crowd of Gryffindors quickly dispersed into the stands, taking seats or standing around in small groups. Harry was alarmed to note that most of the huddles were comprised of various girls who seemed to be eyeing him closely and giggling an inordinate amount. It was his own fault, he realized. Since it was the weekend he had forgone the usual Hogwarts robes and had neglected to wear his Quidditch robes and was dressed in only jeans and a tight black, sleeveless vest.
*No wonder the ladies are looking you over.*
Isis...
*Admit it Harry, you're a hottie.*
Harry looked at the remaining twenty or so people, all with brooms in hand. In the front were Ron and Ginny, both looking very eager to begin. Although Ginny did seem perfectly happy where she was, watching him with slightly glazed eyes and a faint flush to her cheeks.
*And Virginia there definitely seems appreciative...*
"You're trying out for the team?" he asked her, motioning at the broom resting on her shoulders. "What position?"
Ginny grinned at him, "Chaser."
"Chaser?" Harry looked her over with an appraising eye before nodding, "I can see you as one, you have the right build. I think you'll do well."
"Of course I will. I chased you for four years, didn't I?"
By now the rest of the Quidditch team had arrived, leaving Harry with no time to reply, settling instead for a grin and a wink before joining his team mates.
"All right, listen up." He caught their attention. "As you all know, we're in desperate need of a Keeper this year, since Wood left. Therefore finding a replacement is our top priority. However, as you should also know, this is the last year for much of the rest of the team. Which means that next year we'll be needing a full set of new Chasers and Beaters."
Alicia and Katie were nodding solemnly, Angelina was scuffing the grass with her foot, and the twins were being themselves.
"Alas!" bemoaned George theatrically, "our time here is nearly at an end!"
"So much to do," continued Fred, "so little time to do it in-"
"So many pranks that will never reach fruition-"
"Hold me!"
The pair grabbed each other in a tight hug and began wailing their heads off like professional mourners at a funeral. Nobody knew whether to laugh or groan at their antics.
"As you can see they will not be sorely missed," observed Harry dryly, earning gasps of outrage and a general waving of fists in his direction by the twins.
"To this end," he picked up, "I have decided, after consulting with the rest of the team and Professor McGonagall, that we shall be selecting a full reserve team this year. You will train with the principal team and, if possible, even play in one or two games during the year."
"Which games?" piped up a voice from the rear.
Harry tried not to roll his eyes as he saw Colin waving his hand in the air. "Definitely not any games against Slytherin," he said. "I refuse to let those sods beat us in anything, especially since I've heard from McGonagall that Malfoy's managed to buy his place as their new captain."
Disgruntled mutterings began amidst the prospective team members and behind him Harry could hear the rest of the team cursing to various degrees, particularly the twins. They all remembered how Malfoy's father had bought Draco's way onto the team during Harry's second year. It seemed nothing had changed since then, which Harry considered a minor comfort.
"I'll play the reserves in matches against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You'll only get a chance against Slytherin if you make Keeper or if someone can't play because of an injury. Understood?"
There were nods all round, some slightly grudging but soon everyone was paying attention as Harry began explaining how things would be worked. He dispatched all those trying out as a Chaser to the other end of the pitch, where they would be flying in groups of three and trying to score against Fred, who would be acting as Keeper, while George kept track of who scored what.
Everyone else trying for Keeper remained and were sent up one by one to protect the goals from the combined efforts of Alicia, Angelina and Katie. Each candidate faced twenty attempts by the girls before coming down, Harry watching closely and keeping score. Those that wanted to try out for a position as Chaser as well, where then directed to the opposite goals.
Only two people were trying out for the position of reserve Seeker, a pair that gave Harry cause to gaze heavenward. Somehow though, he could not bring himself to be surprised at this latest demonstration of hero worship. Colin and Dennis Creevey had not changed in the slightest over the summer, except perhaps that they were now each a couple of inches taller. After setting the pair of them off chasing after a Snitch, he shook his head.
"I must have been a real Genghis Kahn in a previous life," he muttered.
"What makes you say that?" asked a soft female voice to his side.
Without looking up, but wondering who it was - he didn't recognise the voice right away--Harry answered, "It's the only reason I can think of that explains my bad karma."
Whoever it was chuckled softly. "They're not that bad. Are they?"
Harry glanced up and froze.
Oh no.
It was Cho Chang.
"Hi Harry," she greeted him, "I've been wanting to talk to you."
***
"Actually," Harry said, "I've been trying to avoid that."
Sirius watched as his godson tensed up like a cornered animal, deliberately avoiding the gaze of the girl standing at his side.
"I know," she told him, "that's one of the things I want to talk about."
Sirius was amazed by Harry. The boy had shot up in height nearly a foot since he had last seen him, under the care of Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing, and had filled out considerably as well. Now, more so than ever, he was practically the spitting image of James at that age, with only the absence of his once ever-present glasses to tell the difference.
The only reason Sirius had found the boy in the crowd had been his scent. As it was, he had not believed his eyes when he first saw him. It was only when he heard Harry speak, much deeper than before and sounding just like James, that it was driven home. Softly he padded towards where the two teenagers were standing, watching as Harry considered the petite witch standing next to him.
"I've been... busy, Cho," Harry responded, his eyes fixed firmly upon the Quidditch pitch.
"I don't blame you for Cedric's death, if that's what you're worried about."
Harry's hand jerked violently and slashed a line of ink across the parchment he was writing on. Before he could do or say anything the girl, Cho, reached up and gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"I can see that's what you're thinking every time you look at me, Harry.
"You must be mistaken," he assured her, continuing to concentrate on the Quidditch.
Cho pulled on his shoulder and forced Harry to turn and face her, looking all the world like a man condemned to the gallows. Sirius tensed as faint scowl marred her exotic features, but relaxed as she began to lecture the boy towering above her.
"Dammit, Harry, it's not your fault!"
"Of course it's my fault!" he snapped, jerking away from her. "I caused his death. I practically killed him myself because I was too stupid-"
"To do what? Huh?" Cho interrupted. "How's it your fault, tell me. For sharing the glory? For not taking advantage of Cedric's sense of nobility? For being honourable to a fault? For being the bleeding textbook definition of what it means to be a Gryffindor? Tell me, how is it your fault?"
Sirius watched as Harry trembled slightly, his hand clenching tight and crumpling the parchment he was holding. More than anything right then he wanted to be able to take his godson in his arms and try to give him the comfort and assurances that he needed. Not possible while so many young witches and wizards were standing around, but Sirius had sent over a decade in Azkaban. Patience did not come naturally to him, but he had learnt how to fake it well enough.
Oh, Harry... why do you insist on shouldering the responsibility for everything that happens to you, even the things that you cannot control?
With a heart-wrenching sigh Harry dropped his head and studied his shoes. "I should have known. It was too good to be true. I knew somebody was setting me up. I knew that just being around me was putting him in danger. I should have expected it."
"Expected it?" repeated Cho, incredulously. "For Circe's sake, Harry, Dumbledore didn't even expect something like that to happen! And he's the smartest damned wizard on the planet!"
Harry looked up, shaking his head. "I should have been able to save him."
At this Sirius decided it was time to make his presence known, not necessarily as a human felon, but as Snuffles the oversized dog. Best to distract Harry from the uncomfortably memories this Cho girl was bring back to the surface. He moved close to where they were standing and barked a couple of times.
"If only Trelawney were here," observed Harry, "I might finally be rid of her."
"Oh my! A Grim!" Cho brought her hands up to her face and backed away, almost bumping into Harry.
Harry snorted and quirked an eyebrow at Sirius. "No. It's actually my mass-murdering, escaped convict of a godfather in disguise." His delivery held such a sarcastic tone Sirius knew that Cho would not for a moment consider the fact that it was true.
Harry walked up to Sirius and dropped down onto one knee, ruffling the thick fur on Sirius' head as he spoke in a hushed voice. "Hey boy. I wasn't expecting to see you here."
Sirius panted happily and gave a soft bark, grinning happily up at Harry as best he could while being a dog. Harry chuckled and continued ruffling his fur, looking over his shoulder at Cho, who had drawn her wand and was fingering it nervously. "His name's Snuffles," he told her, indicating to her to put the wand away as it was not needed. "He's a stray from Hogsmeade. Lives around the Shrieking Shack, I think."
Cho crouched down beside Harry and tentatively reached out a hand towards Sirius. He gave it a cursory sniff and a slobbering lick before looking into her eyes and panting happily. Wiping her hand against her robes to remove the drool Cho looked wryly over at Harry who was grinning and now simply resting his hand on Sirius' coat.
"Affectionate sort, isn't he?" she asked him.
Harry laughed and nodded. "Be careful though. He may seem charming, but he's got a wicked streak of mischief in him. Make the twins seem almost amateurish by comparison."
Cho laughed as well, giving Sirius a friendly pat, and then stood. "I guess I'd better leave you to finish your tryouts for a new Keeper."
Harry rose to his feet and nodded solemnly at her. "Yes, I don't think it would be appropriate for the Ravenclaw captain to be present. Congratulations on that, by the way."
"Thanks. I hear you're captain as well."
Sirius perked his ears and looked at Harry, beaming up at his godson. He had stopped by Hogwarts before coming to the Quidditch pitch in search of Harry. Remus, with whom he had spoken, had not said anything about Harry being chosen as the Gryffindor captain.
"Thank you." Harry seemed to have drawn a shroud of forced formality over himself, pushing Cho away from him on an emotional level. "I'm... glad... we talked."
"So am I, Harry," she agreed, half turning to leave. She looked at him before going on her way. "Maybe we can do it again sometime."
Harry nodded silently, and both he and Sirius watched as Cho left the stands and strode briskly back to the castle. Glancing around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear them, Harry looked down at Sirius. "I presume you heard most of that?"
Sirius whined softly and pawed at Harry's thigh. The boy shook his head and then motioned back towards the stands. "Let's sit. It looks like the girls are ready to start shooting at the new Keepers. You can tell me what you think."
Nodding once in agreement Sirius bounded up and lay down in the front row, pawing at his side to show Harry where to sit. His godson chuckled and dropped down beside him, unscrunching the piece of parchment in his hand and casting a quick dewrinkling charm to straighten it out. Quill in hand he and Sirius sat back and watched the trials taking place before and above them.
First up was a boy Harry identified as a fourth-year named Jefferson Hope, who managed to fend off roughly half of the shots the Chasers made on goal. He was followed by a third-year girl; Harry identified her for Sirius as Lucy Ferrier. She was very fluid in her motions Sirius saw, but hesitant and unfortunately also rather small in size, unable to stop some of the harder shots because of it. Lucy managed to save roughly a third of the shots taken before descending, this time replaced by a figure Sirius did not need Harry to identify.
"Hmmm. He's pretty good," noted Harry, jotting down his observations besides Ron's name on the parchment. "But he simply doesn't look comfortable in the position. Personally, I think he'd be a better Chaser than a Keeper."
Sirius rumbled his agreement as Harry sighed. "I know he's trying out for both, but he really wants a place on the team this year. I just know he's going to get wound up if he doesn't make it."
Ron managed to save sixteen of the twenty shots taken and descended to the earth, receiving a smattering of applause from the Gryffindor spectators. Hermione, Sirius saw with some amusement, seemed particularly enthusiastic and was almost bouncing where she stood.
"Yeah," agreed Harry, seeing where Sirius was looking, "I think they're finally starting to get it worked out that they like each other."
Sirius chuckled. They'll either end up marrying or killing each other.
As Ron ran passed them, hurrying to the other end of the pitch to take his turn for the position of Chaser, he waved happily at Harry. He waved back, and Sirius gave a loud bark, then signalled for the next candidate to take to the air.
And so it continued for nearly an hour until everyone had had a turn and the twins returned from the far side of the field, both grinning broadly. One of them, Harry called him George, handed Harry a sheet of parchment and clapped a pretty red headed girl that must have been his younger sister happily on the shoulder.
Must be Arthur and Molly's youngest. What was her name? Gina?
Harry thanked them and then stood up, calling for attention. "All right, everyone. I'd like to thank you all for coming and trying out. It's good to see we have such a large pool of talent to choose from. I know some of you will be disappointed if you don't make it, but I plan to hold a similar set of tryouts next year for similar reasons. I'll be announcing who made what sometime in the next day or two, after I've discussed the matter with the rest of team and Professor McGonagall. Thanks again."
Slowly the crowd of students began to dissipate and make their way back into the castle, except for the other members of the Quidditch team and Ron, Hermione and the young girl. Sirius was somewhat surprised when she sat down on Harry's other side and reached across Harry to scratch Sirius behind his ears.
"This must be Snuffles," she cooed, looking at Harry for confirmation.
For a moment Sirius was filled with blind panic, especially when Harry nodded. His godson must have felt his alarm, because he held Sirius in place with a firm hand between his shoulders and spoke directly to him.
"Don't worry, boy," he told Sirius, "Ginny's a friend. You can trust her. I do."
He does? What does he mean by that?
Harry turned from Sirius and looked at his team mates. "I'm going to take poor Snuffles here to Professor Lupin's office, before he gets more lost than he already is. Why don't you get changed, and I'll meet you in the Great Hall and we can discuss the tryouts there?"
"Okay, boss," nodded one twin, who shouldered his broom and grabbed one of the Chasers around the waist, dragging her along with him despite her protests.
"I don't know why she puts up with him," muttered one of the other girls.
The remaining twin looked at her and grinned. "Because we're so loveable and cuddly?"
Ron snorted. "Cuddly?"
As the five Quidditch players departed Harry looked at each of his friends in turn. "Can I meet you lot in the common room later?" he asked. "I'd like some time alone with Siri- Snuffles."
"No problem, Harry. We understand," answered Ginny before her brother could protest. She stood and quickly shouldered her broom, grabbing Ron with her free arm. Assisted by Hermione they soon dragged themselves away, leaving Harry and Sirius by themselves in the empty Quidditch stands.
Only after they had disappeared from view did Harry lean back and relax. "I can't feel anyone nearby. You can change now."
With a low pop, Sirius assumed his human form and gave his godson a warm hug. Harry laughed at his enthusiasm, but returned the greeting wholeheartedly. After a while Sirius drew back and gave him a querying look. "You can't feel anyone?"
"I can 'feel' the magic in people. Something I picked up over the summer."
"I'm glad your summer wasn't too bad with those Muggle relatives of yours," he told Harry.
Harry shrugged. "It could have been better. Still, I've had worse. In any case, it proved more productive than usual."
Sirius nodded. "So Remus and Dumbledore have told me. Prefect, teaching your own specialized class and now Quidditch captain as well."
"Me a Prefect." Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Considering the number of rules I've broken over the years and all the trouble I've managed to get myself into, I think Dumbledore must be off his rocker."
"He's always been like that," explained Sirius, remembering his days at school.
Harry chuckled and stretched his now long arms and legs. "Thanks again for my birthday present. It fits almost perfectly now that I've finally outgrown my 'midget' phase, as Ron called it."
"You're welcome, Harry. I'm just glad you like it."
"How long are you staying this time?" Harry asked. "I reckon this is just a stopover visit, right? Before Dumbledore sends you out again."
Sirius nodded and sighed, gripping Harry by the shoulder. "I'm afraid so. No rest for the wicked as they say." He ignored his godson's snort of amusement at the phrase. "I'll be staying in Remus' quarters until I have to go. Dumbledore says I'll be leaving in a week or so."
Harry nodded thoughtfully, but then smiled happily. "A week? That's great, longer than I was expecting, anyway. Can I bring Ron, Hermione and Ginny around later? I know they want to visit, and Ginny hasn't met you yet."
"Ah yes, Ginny," Sirius looked sternly at Harry. "We are definitely going to have a talk about her before I leave."
"I told you I trust her."
He nodded his understanding. "And I trust you judgement. But still, the fewer people who know, the better."
Harry sighed and gave him a grudging nod. "I suppose. Hey, do you want to sit through one of my classes next week, during the evening? Some of the Professors occasionally come to watch, I'm sure nobody would be suspicious if Professor Lupin came and brought you with him."
"Harry, are you sure you can do all this? It's a lot of work," he asked, wondering if perhaps his godson was taking on too much work and responsibility. Sirius could remember James' last year at Hogwarts when he had been Head Boy and Quidditch captain. The pressure and stress had been exceptional and Harry still had another two years to go.
"Of course I can, Sirius," he replied with a mischievous grin. "I can do anything; I'm the Boy Who Lived."
Sirius frowned. "Be careful, Harry. Accidents happen."
"They frequently do at Hogwarts," agreed Harry, mirthlessly, "usually to me."
TBC...