As September rolled into October, Quidditch practices started up once again. After the tournament was called off last year due to all the attacks, Oliver Wood, the Quidditch Captain, was desperate to get a win before he left school at the end of the year.

“This is my last chance to get a win before I leave school,” Oliver said in the locker room just before their first practice. “We’ve got to win this time. We just have to.”

“No pressure or anything, then,” chimed Fred sarcastically as he laced up his shoes. Both George and Fred were the two beaters for the Gryffindor team, wickedly good at hitting the bludgers at other players and excellent flyers.

Ignoring Fred’s comment, Oliver continued. “We haven’t won for 7 years, which of course I don’t blame anyone for…” He tried to cover up the fact that he was looking at Hari as he said it, but from the rosiness of his cheeks when Hari made eye contact, it was obvious. “But we’re an excellent team so I think we’ve got a real flying chance of winning this year.

“Just look at our team. We’ve got three excellent Chasers—” Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell all cheered “—And two legendary Beaters… And an unstoppable Seeker.” He gave Hari a toothy, proud smile, making Hari’s cheeks flush slightly dark red. “And me…”

Fred slapped Oliver’s back. “We think you’re a great Keeper as well, Oliver.”

George punched Oliver’s shoulder. “A bloody brilliant one… Even if you do have questionable taste in men,” said George, winking.

“Watch it, Weasley,” Oliver snapped, his face bright pink as the others laughed teasingly. He cleared his throat, trying to get back on topic. “The point is, I know we can do this. We’re an excellent team. We just have to make sure we work even harder and even more often to make sure we can do it.”

The team cheered and shouted in agreement, slapping Oliver on the back before they all marched out onto the field for their first practice of the season.

The weather was getting increasingly poorer as the month went on, the rain almost constant and the wind chilling the entire school. But it did nothing to stop their practices taking place, nor their collective determination to win the Quidditch Cup for once.

It was a particularly gruelling session one evening as the rain poured from the sky by the litre, drenching the entire team all the way through their uniforms. Hari was having to squint in order to see through the pouring rain, almost slipping off the end of his broom. It was only after the evening sky was lit up bright white by blinding lightning that they finally considered ending the practice.

“Oliver, don’t you think we should go back in?!” Alicia called over the booming thunder immediately following the flash of lighting. Her dark ringlets were dripping on the ends, hanging limp around her face as she paused her flying to hover midair, a metre away from Hari.

“It’s only a bit of lightning!” Oliver called back stubbornly from his place by the goals. A second later, there was another earth-shaking boom of nearby thunder.

“Oliver, there’s no use!” added Fred, his fiery red hair sticking to his forehead and getting in his eyes. He narrowly dodged the bludger he had been hitting back and forth with George. “We’ll hardly be able to play a match if one of us gets struck by lightning!”

As another flash lit up the sky, giving the castle above them an almost godly silhouette, Oliver reluctantly agreed to end the practice and they all landed on the ground and made their way up to the castle. Once inside, Angelina placed a quick drying spell on everyone so that they could avoid traipsing puddles through the castle and getting a row from Filch.

Hari, Fred and George were talking about Oliver’s continued lack of consideration for anyone’s wellbeing as they stepped inside the common room to find it buzzing with excited chatter. Hari wandered over to Hermione, Ron and Draco sitting on their usual couch, currently discussing something with grins on their faces.

“What’s up?” asked Hari, stopping in front of his friends.

“The first Hogsmeade trip’s been announced!” replied Ron cheerfully.

“Oh, excellent!” said Fred, coming up beside Hari and resting his elbow on his shoulder. “We need to stock up on Zonko’s products. I’m all out of Stink Bombs and almost finished with the fireworks.”

Hermione gave Fred a stern look. “Didn’t you just get stuff over the summer?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fred shrugged noncommittally and waved his hand at her. “You underestimate my pranking ability, Hermione,” he replied. Hermione rolled her eyes and lifted her Arithmancy textbook once again from her lap.

“I’m just excited for some more butterbeer, honestly,” said Draco, stretching out on the couch and propping his socked feet in Hermione’s lap. She raised her textbook for a moment to accommodate him. “You guys are going to love it. Remember how delicious it was, Hari?”

Hari nodded at the memory, stomach grumbling as he wished he could have some right about now. He threw himself into an armchair beside Ron. “It was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“How have you two had it?” asked George, sitting on a nearby couch, crammed with Lee Jordan next to him. “Only third years and up can go.”

“Did you two sneak there?” asked Fred excitedly, mischief glinting in his brown eyes.

“Course not,” said Draco, “We went last year over Christmas with Remus Lupin.”

Fred made a noise of interest at the back of his throat. “Interesting. I forgot you knew Professor Lupin before now.”

A moment later, the conversation moved on as Crookshanks leapt deftly onto Draco’s legs on Hermione’s lap, carrying a large dead spider in his mouth. Ron gagged at the sight, tearing his eyes away.

“Does he have to eat that in front of us?” he complained. “It’s bad enough Draco’s cat keeps prowling in our room, I don’t need spiders added to the mix.”

Hermione ignored him, running her hands over Crookshanks’ matted orange fur and cooing, “Did you catch that all by yourself, Crookshanks? Good boy!”

Ron shuffled away as Crookshanks stared right at Ron as he began to chew up the dead spider. “Just keep the thing away from me. Scabbers is in my bag.”

Hari yawned heavily and tilted sideways, resting his head on the arm of his chair. He was absolutely drained from his Quidditch practice and all he wanted was to go upstairs and curl up in his bed. His homework was quickly beginning to pile up on him daily as he put it off more and more as his Quidditch practices took up the majority of his time. He still had a whole star chart for Astronomy, a Divination essay about tea leaf varieties and a Potions essay about the effects of the Wiggenweld potion. The latter shouldn’t have been too difficult as he vaguely remembered it somewhere, but he still couldn’t bring himself to start it.

“Hari, why don’t you just go to sleep?” Draco asked him, leaning his head backwards over the arm of the couch so he could look at Hari.

Hari huffed, burying his nose in the couch cushion, glasses getting pushed half off his face. “Can’t. ‘ve got homework…” he mumbled through yet another yawn.

“Well, you’re hardly getting it done by falling asleep on the couch, are you?”

Hari opened his mouth to retort that he was still awake, but was interrupted as Ron suddenly yelped loudly and lunged for his bag as Crookshanks suddenly pounced on the lump that was Scabbers.

“HEY!” he roared, seizing his bag with Crookshanks still clinging on by his claws. “GET OFF, YOU FUCKING DEMON!” All eyes were on him in the common room as Ron screamed at the hissing and spitting cat. Hermione was on her feet as well, shouting at Ron for abusing her cat.

Scabbers made a brave escape out of the bag as it swung violently through the air, still attached to Crookshanks. As the rat scampered across the common room, Crookshanks finally let go of the bag and scurried after him.

“CATCH THAT STUPID CAT!” Ron yelped, starting after the darting cat. Several people made for the cat as he passed by them, but Crookshanks managed to get through all of the legs and away from the reaching hands.

Ron and Hermione sprinted over to where Crookshanks now had Scabbers cornered under a chest of drawers, swiping his paw under it. Ron got on his hands and knees as he reached for Scabbers. Then, he swore loudly and winced, falling backwards with Scabbers on his chest. Crookshanks appeared to have swiped at him as one of his arms, exposed by his rolled up sleeves, was bleeding from several long, deep scratches.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Hermione! Look at what that demonic cat did!” Ron shouted, clutching his bleeding arm. His eyes were slightly watery from the pain and frustration. “And look at poor Scabbers! He’s practically a skeleton!”

Hermione was close to tears as well, plucking Crookshanks from the floor. “He’s a cat, Ron! He didn’t mean to! It’s in their nature!” she snapped shakily, holding Crookshanks defensively against her chest.

“No, your cat is just evil incarnate!” Ron snapped, red in the face from shouting for the last few minutes. “Draco’s cat is perfectly normal! He hasn’t tried to scalp me or eat my pet rat or—” he held up his arm, dripping blood onto the carpet “—maimed me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ronald Weasley!” Hermione exclaimed.

Ron scowled and stuffed Scabbers inside his pocket. “I don’t want to hear it, Hermione,” he snapped, pointing a finger at her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go to Madam Pomfrey to make sure I don’t bleed out because of that evil orange git.” And then he marched out of the common room through the portrait hole, his stomping footsteps echoing behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Hermione turned on her heels and stormed up the stairs for the girls dormitory. A door slamming could be heard all the way down in the common room.

“Show’s over, everyone!” said Draco once everyone simply stood in silence, looking in the directions that Ron and Hermione both stormed off to. Goaded by Draco’s offending glare, everyone went back to their work again.

¤¤¤

Ron was still cross with Hermione the next day, even after his arm was easily healed by Madam Pomfrey and he returned to the common room.

Hermione was trying her best to play nice, but Ron wasn’t having any of it.

“How’s your arm now, Ron?” she asked over breakfast as Ron shovelled cornflakes into his mouth.

“Fine, no thanks to your pet demon,” he replied gruffly, glancing down at the arm which Hari knew was perfectly fine now. “And Scabbers is now hiding at the bottom of my bed, trembling all over.”

After a very tense Herbology lesson in which Ron and Hermione refused to talk to each other the whole time and Hari and Draco had to do all the talking instead, they had Transfiguration class next.

“Do you think Ron realises that all cats chase rats?” Draco muttered to Hari as they made their way up the steps with the others.

Hari was about to reply back when they came across a distraction in the hallway just outside the Transfiguration classroom. Lavender Brown was crying miserably while Parvati tried to comfort her with her arm around her shoulders and Neville, Dean and Seamus looked sympathetic as she cried.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong, Lavender?” asked Hermione as they joined the group. She put a tentative hand on Lavender’s arm, glancing around for an answer.

“She got a letter home saying her rabbit Binky died,” replied Parvati in a whisper. “He was killed by a fox, apparently.”

“Oh, dear,” Hermione replied. “I’m really sorry, Lavender…”

“I should have known!” wailed Lavender, sniffling as she glanced at Hermione. “Do you know what day it is?”

Hermione shook her head.

“It’s the sixteenth of October!” she cried. “Remember what Trelawney said? The thing I’m dreading the most would happen today! And now it has!”

Hermione bristled at the mention of Trelawney, but covered it up by awkwardly patting Lavender sympathetically. “Were you… dreading Binky getting killed by a fox?”

“Not necessarily a fox but I was worried about having to leave him behind! He was only a baby!”

“But why would you worry about Binky dying if he was just a baby?” Hermione asked, earning a glare from Parvati. “I mean, look at it logically. It can’t have happened today if you’ve only got the letter and it’s obviously been a shock because he was a baby, not because you were dreading it.” This only served to make Lavender cry even harder.

“Ignore Hermione, Lavender,” said Ron, shooting Hermione a scowl. “She doesn’t care about other people’s pets or their feelings.”

“That’s not true! I’m just saying we should be logical about—”

Draco put a hand on Hermione’s arm, silencing her as the door to the classroom opened. “Just drop it, Hermione,” he whispered as they made their way inside the room past McGonagall.

She gave a curious look at the tearful Lavender and the murderous Ron and Hermione, still glaring at each other and sitting down as far apart as they could. She raised a questioning eyebrow at Hari who simply shrugged, shaking his head. Ron and Hermione continued to scowl at each other for the rest of the lesson as they took notes, Draco and Hari periodically sharing exasperated looks as Ron or Hermione made comments about each other under their breaths.

For the rest of the lesson, as they continued with further studying about animagi and other transformation-based abilities, Ron and Hermione continued to throw glares each other's way. Hari and Draco tried to keep their friends occupied in order to avoid further arguments, but eventually gave up after both proved unwilling.

Finally, just before the bell rang and everyone was starting to pack up, Professor McGonagall moved to the front of the class, clearing her throat. “Seeing as I’m the head of Gryffindor house, if anyone has their forms for Hogsmeade, I can take them now before the lesson starts,” she announced. She started down the aisles, taking forms off people.

“Professor, I think I’ve—” started Neville nervously, raising his hand halfway.

“Don’t worry, Augusta already sent me your form the other day,” interrupted McGonagall, smiling politely at Neville as she pulled a form from Dean’s hand on his other side.

As the bell rang and they all started out of the classroom together, Hari was held back.

“Mr. Potter, if I could please have a word?”

“Just wait outside, I’ll see you in a sec,” Hari muttered to Draco. They followed the others out of the class, leaving Hari alone with Minerva. “What did you need, Minnie?” he asked as soon as the door shut.

Minerva sighed and gestured to Hari’s seat, indicating him to sit down. She looked incredibly severe all of a sudden and he sat down in his seat, looking up at her frowning face.

“It has come to my attention from several teachers that you have been failing to turn in assignments,” she said after they sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. “Including, might I add, this class.”

“It was just a few! I’ll get on them!” Hari complained, “I’ve just been busy and stuff…”

Minerva looked at him over her spectacles. “And your other classmates have as well, Hari. And yet I’m not being told by Professors Snape, Flitwick and Sprout that they haven’t done any of their work either.”

Hari huffed in frustration, mussing up his hair stressfully. He knew she was right, of course. He should have been doing his work, but he just kept forgetting. It definitely didn’t help that he didn’t end up finishing his work the previous night after Ron and Hermione’s public argument.

“I promise I’ll do all of it and more, Minerva. I will.”

“Oh, you certainly will, Hari,” she snapped. “Particularly as you won’t be going to Hogsmeade this weeked. You’ll have plenty of time to—”

“What?” Hari exclaimed, standing up from his seat, wide eyed. “But—but what do you mean? Why not?”

Minerva sighed, frowning at his outburst. “Hogsmeade is a privilege, Hari. And until you start working properly, I cannot allow you to go off to Hogsmeade unless you’ve earned it,” she said sternly. “That is my final word, Potter. I’m sorry, but I would do it to anyone else if they weren’t working.”

Hari’s shoulders sagged, defeated. “Yes, Minerva…”

Minerva sighed and looked up at the clock over her door showing that class had already started. “You’d best be off so that you’re not late for your next lesson. Good day, Hari.”

¤¤¤

“But you’ve got to go! You can’t just miss it!”

“It won’t be nearly as good if you can’t go. You’ll miss the butterbeer and all the cool shops!”

When Hari told Ron, Draco and Hermione the news that he would no longer be able to go to Hogsmeade with them that weekend, Ron and Draco took similarly exasperated and upset views. Hermione, however, seemed to agree with Minerva, believing it was Hari’s own fault he hadn’t done his homework.

It was even worse once everyone was excitedly planning what they would do once they went to Hogsmeade the following day. Hari’s friends had tried to cheer Hari up with promises of bringing him back stuff and talking about the feast, but it did little to help. Even worse, Percy Weasley had possibly the least helpful comfort ever.

“It’s not such a big deal, really, Hari. It’s not at all what everyone hypes it up to be,” he said frankly. “Well, the sweetshop is usually quite good and the Shrieking Shack is well worth a visit and Zonko’s is a bit dangerous, but apart from that, it’s not really that fun.”

“Percy, I don’t think you’re helping things,” said Oliver Wood, sitting next to him. “Maybe you could get some extra Quidditch practice in instead, Hari! We’ve got a match to win, after all.”

It was with Oliver and Percy’s poor attempts at cheering Hari up that not only sent him to bed three hours early, but made him realise just how much of an annoying couple they were.

¤¤¤

The next morning, Hari woke up thoroughly depressed as everyone made their way down to the entrance hall to leave for Hogsmeade together. Though he tried to hide it with smiles and forced laughter, he couldn’t ignore the sympathetic frowns from his friends. He was getting very tired of being looked at that way.

“Don’t worry about me, guys. Just have fun,” Hari insisted as Ron, Hermione and Draco apologised profusely and promised again to bring back gifts for him. They were all wrapped up in scarves and jackets, trying to hide their excitement.

After leaving his friends at the entrance hall, Hari moped his way up the stairs with his head hanging. He was planning to go up to the owlery to visit Hedwig or to collect his things and head to the library to finish his work, until he heard a familiar voice calling his name from down the hall inside a classroom.

Hari doubled back to find Remus leaning his head out of his office. “Hari? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you going to Hogsmeade?” he asked once Hari neared slightly reluctantly.

“Minerva took away the ‘privilege’ because I forgot to do some school work.”

Remus nodded, considering Hari curiously for a moment. “Why don’t you come in, then? I’ve just got a grindylow for our next lesson and… we haven’t spoken much lately.” He cleared his throat, straightening out the edges of his jumper sleeves.

Hari followed Remus inside awkwardly and Remus shut the door behind him. He looked at the tank by his desk, in which there was a strange, horned sea creature with tentacles floating inside. It had mottled greyish green skin and sharp teeth in its wide mouth.

“Shouldn’t be difficult after you managed the kappa quite well,” said Remus conversationally, watching Hari’s gaze on the tank. “The trick is to make them lose their grip. Their hands are strong but incredibly brittle if you hit them.” Hari nodded vaguely. “Tea? I was just turning the kettle on. I’ve got the kind you always liked. In a bag, of course.” He lifted a familiar box of various types of teas inside, showing it to Hari with a raised eyebrow.

“You know about the tea leaves?” asked Hari, knitting his eyebrows.

Remus nodded, tapping his kettle with his wand and gesturing for Hari to sit down. “Minerva told me about it. You’re not worried, are you?” He poured them each a cup of tea, handing Hari one of them. It was made exactly as he always liked it.

“No,” said Hari immediately, avoiding Remus’ eyes. He wasn’t nervous about it, but he still couldn’t help but remember how Remus didn’t trust him to deal with a boggart in class. Sick embarrassment settled in his chest once again at the memory and Remus seemed to catch his change of thoughts.

“Is everything alright, Hari?” asked Remus slowly, knowingly. He had known Hari for almost ten years, making it annoyingly easy for him to recognise Hari’s emotions just by looking at him. It made it nearly impossible to lie to him.

“Yes,” said Hari stubbornly, looking out the window at the grounds. He caught sight of Remus’ unconvinced frown and let his shoulders fall. “No,” he admitted shyly, fiddling with the hem of his robe.

“Could this have anything to do with the fact that you’ve hardly spoken to me for the entire time we’ve both been consistently living in the same building and in the same room daily?” Remus asked. Hari felt his heart drop like a stone and he turned abruptly to look at Remus. “Yes, I noticed, Hari. I’ve known you almost your whole life and never once have you ignored me quite so determinedly.”

Hari took a long sip of his tea, letting it burn his throat and mouth. He ran his hand through his hair as Remus continued to watch him silently, sipping his own tea. “Remember that day in class when we had that boggart? The first day?” Hari asked after a moment, clearing his throat. Remus bowed his head affirmatively.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you let me fight it?” Hari blurted.

Remus blinked in surprise, setting his tea cup aside. “I would have thought it obvious, Hari.”

“Clearly it isn’t,” Hari said, unable to keep the snark out of his voice. He quickly swallowed more of his tea.

Remus gave him a look and Hari’s eyes darted to the floor. “Well, I assumed that the boggart would have taken the place of Voldemort,” said Remus honestly, frowning. Hari’s eyebrows raised, disappearing behind his curly black fringe. “Clearly, from your reaction, I assumed wrong. But I have to admit, I didn’t think it would be wise if Voldemort suddenly appeared in front of a class of 13 year olds.”

“I originally thought of him…” admitted Hari. “But then I remembered the dementor on the train.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea. “Well, I suppose that makes sense,” he said. Hari didn’t reply, still feeling embarrassed. “You thought I assumed you were incapable of facing a boggart, I’m guessing?”

“Well… yeah,” he replied. “So you didn’t think that?”

Remus snorted into his tea, nearly choking on it. “Yes, Hari Potter who successfully faced off Lord Voldemort at the age of one and killed a basilisk only a few months ago, but surely can’t face off a boggart because he was attacked by a dementor. Yes, I can see what you mean, Hari. Definitely thought you were incapable,” said Remus sarcastically. “And you’ve been avoiding me for two months because of this?”

“I’m sorry…” Hari avoided the older man’s eyes, brushing the back of his knuckles against the porcelain cup until it was painful.

Remus sighed and put his cup back down, walking over to squat next to Hari and look up into his green eyes. “I fully understand your frustration,” he replied, ruffling his dark hair, “but you could have just spoken to me sooner, you know.” Hari huffed a laugh, leaning into Remus’ touch.

Their conversation came to a halt as someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” said Remus, standing up again.

The door opened and Severus Snape walked in, carrying a smoking goblet and placing it on Remus’ desk.

“Ah, Severus. Thank you,” replied Remus politely.

Severus’ eyes moved between Hari and Remus. “Interrupting a moment, am I?” he asked.

“Just showing Hari my grindylow I got for class,” replied Remus, gesturing to the tank.

“Fascinating. That should be easy for our famed Hari Potter,” replied Severus, lip curling ever so slightly. Hari knew he was trying for humour as much as he was capable. “You’ll need to drink that directly, Remus. And I’ve got a cauldron full downstairs if you need more.”

“I will, Severus,” replied Remus. “Thank you again.”

“Not at all,” said Severus.

Hari, suddenly remembering something, sat up. “Wait, Professor. I have that essay about the Wiggenweld potion with me,” said Hari, grabbing his bag from the floor and handing it to Severus’ outstretched hand. “I wrote an extra six inches to make up for it being late. I remembered when you showed Draco and me ages ago.”

Severus nodded, putting the parchment inside his robe. He bowed his head curtly at Hari and Remus and then he was off once again.

“What’s that potion for, Remus?” asked Hari once they were alone again and Remus took a tentative sip of the potion, wincing at the horrible flavor.

“I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather and this is all that helps. Many wizards aren’t… up for making it, so it’s good to have Severus doing it.”

“Why not?” Hari blurted. Remus raised an eyebrow, drinking down the entire goblet. “You’re always getting ill…”

Remus finished the goblet and put it aside. “Perhaps I’ll tell you more one day, but for now we both have work to do, I believe. I’ll see you at the feast.”

Hari said goodbye to Remus and made his way up to the library alone, wondering why Remus was always ill and what that potion was really for.