The Hidden Hero

The Great Hall was packed for lunch. By now, there wasn’t anyone in the castle, living or dead, who hadn’t heard that Harry Potter was there. People who had skipped breakfast were furious with themselves for having had the misfortune to miss his arrival. No one planned on missing lunchtime.

When Harry entered the Great Hall, everyone was already there and all eyes were on the entrance, waiting to see him when he arrived. There was a sudden hush when he appeared. He hesitated in the entry way. He wasn’t quite sure what to do.

He had just come from Snape’s class, where he had realized just what it meant to be under an indenture. He had learned the astonishing news that Snape – Snape! – had been in love with his mother. And, he had realized how closely he resembled his father, except for his green eyes, and his famous scar.

Now, with every eye on him, he felt exposed and raw. Were they trying to see his scar? Were they aware of his indenture? He should have given lunch a skip and hidden out in his dormitory room.

Coward! he called himself. Snape had said that his mother was strong. He had said that his mother would have been proud of him.

Holding his head high, Harry forced himself to walk with steady steps to the Gryffindor table. There was silence until he had seated himself and then a slow building hum as people started talking around him. It was disconcerting to realize that he was the topic of most conversations.

Ron smiled wryly. “That was some entrance.”

“I wish people would stop staring,” Harry muttered.

“They will eventually. Just give them a few days,” encouraged Hermione

Harry looked awkwardly at his friends. “I want to apologize for what happened in potions class,” he began.

“Yeah!” Ron frowned, remembering his annoyance. “What was that all about?”
“It was...” Harry hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to explain.

Luckily, Hermione saved him from trying to find the words. “Was it because of the indenture?” she asked sympathetically.

“Oh, you know about that?” asked Harry. He lowered his eyes to his plate and pretended that he found his peas vastly interesting.

“I thought that might be the reason,” she continued. “Snape told the class to do the assignment. But, for you, that was an order.”

“Do you mean that Snape is the one Harry is indentured to?” asked Ron scandalized.

“Shh!” cautioned Harry. He was aware that other people were trying to listen to their conversation. He knew that everyone would shortly learn about his indenture anyway, but he preferred to delay that moment for as long as possible.

Hermione nodded her head. “I realized as soon as Snape entered the classroom and Harry stood up.”

Ron looked appalled. “Snape! That’s bloody awful!”

Ron’s horrified expression made Harry want to laugh. “That’s not the way to make me feel better, Ron!”

The other boy immediately looked repentant. “I…I didn’t mean…I’m sure Snape will be fine,” he tried to recover. But, despite his words, it was clear that Ron had no expectation that Snape would be fine.

Harry smiled. He realized, with a flash of surprise, that he wasn’t really all that worried about Snape’s holding the indenture. Harry was upset that he was indentured to anyone but, if someone had to hold the indenture, he didn’t particularly mind that it was Snape.

“I don’t think he’ll be so bad,” Harry assured his friend. Ron looked skeptical but held his tongue. “He apologized for today’s class and said he’d watch how he gave instructions in the future.”

“He apologized?” asked Ron in shock.

Harry nodded. “Yes. He told me before that he would try not to abuse this situation.”

Whatever Ron or Hermione would have said to this was lost in the sudden sound of the afternoon owl delivery. With little warning, hundreds of owls flooded the Great Hall. They collided with each other and dipped dangerously low over the students, who flung up their arms to protect themselves. Some children screamed and hid under the tables.

“What the…?!” yelled Ron.

Harry stood up quickly, his wand already withdrawn. “Protego Maximus!” he yelled and a large bubble formed over the four student tables. The owls shrieked outside the bubbles as they tried to enter and bounced off the invisible barriers.

Harry glanced at the head table. Dumbledore had stood up and was now waving his own wand in the air. Soon, the owls had landed and were lined in orderly rows against the walls of the Great Hall. When order had been restored, Dumbledore nodded to Harry and the boy lowered the barriers he had summoned and sat back down.

Eyeing the owls with concern, the students also sat back down in their seats. The owls hooted from time to time, but they did not try to fly around the room again.

“Boys and girls! Do not be alarmed,” calmed Dumbledore. “The owls will not try to hurt you.”

“What happened?” called out one of the Hufflepuff students. From the head table, Professor Sprout glared at the boy for speaking out of turn.

“There were just too many owls trying to enter at once,” explained Dumbledore. “I should have foreseen this and made other arrangements for owl delivery today.” He hesitated and then, apparently, deciding that an explanation was due, continued. “This morning’s Daily Prophet informed the wizarding world that Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts. Apparently, quite a few witches and wizards have written to Harry now that they know he is here.”

Harry blushed. This was due to him?

“It would be helpful if a few of you could help detach the messages from the owls lining the walls. They will then be on their way and Harry can read the messages at his leisure.”

Now that the swarms of owls had been explained, the students no longer were alarmed. They seemed excited about the attention that Harry was receiving and were pleased to help remove the messages from the waiting owls. Dumbledore conjured a small table for the students to place the letters and packages. Soon the table was covered with the offerings.

Harry pretended to be engrossed in his lunch and made no move to approach the owls or to collect the letters stacked on the corner table. “Aren’t you going to read them?” asked Ron eagerly.

Harry shook his head.

“Maybe later,” Hermione suggested quietly.

Harry nodded in relief. He ignored Ron’s look of disappointment. He couldn’t explain in words exactly what he was feeling. He just knew that he was overwhelmed. He desperately wanted quiet. He shoveled a few bits of food into his mouth so that Snape and Dumbledore wouldn’t accuse him of trying to starve himself. Then, putting down his fork, he told his friends that he would see them later.

“Where are you going?” asked Ron in surprise.

“I’m going back to Gryffindor Tower. I’m going to try to get some rest,” Harry explained.

“But we have Charms class,” reminded Hermione.

“Professor Snape said that I could skip whatever class I have after lunch for a few days. I could use the rest.”

Immediately, they looked concerned about his health. “I’m fine!” Harry assured them. “I just need some sleep.” But Harry hadn’t been completely truthful. He wasn’t all that tired. He just needed to find some time to be alone. He longed for some quiet -- away from the constantly staring eyes.

As soon as he rose from the table, the noise level in the Hall dipped again. Ignoring this, and giving the table with the letters and packages a wide berth, Harry left the Great Hall.

Dumbledore watched the boy leave with troubled eyes. “I should have foreseen the fuss with the owls,” he told Snape regretfully. “It was unfortunate. It added unnecessary chaos to his return. He is already struggling to adjust.”

Snape looked sour. “It would help if the students stopped treating him like he was an interesting species of lab animal.”

Dumbledore nodded. “It is understandable that they are somewhat star-struck. But, you are right. He needs things to return to normal.”

Snape snorted. “Only you would think of using the word ‘normal’ when referring to Harry Potter.”

Dumbledore smiled. “All right. Maybe saying ‘return to normal’ is not quite right. Harry has never had a normal life. But, unless I’m much mistaken – and I doubt that I am – a normal life is exactly what Harry craves.”

*

Harry decided he might as well try to get some rest, since he was skipping class anyway. Entering the Gryffindor common room, he had felt an unexpected sense of homecoming. He climbed the steps to the dormitory room with mounting anticipation. Stepping into the room, he drank in the familiar red and gold trimmings. He lay down on the comfortable bed and let the quiet peace of the empty room seep into his senses and calm him.

As a precaution, the teen cast the muffliato charm around his bed in case he had one of his all-too-common nightmares and woke up yelling. It was a wise precaution. He woke up, bathed in sweat, moaning from the nightmares that had visited him during his short nap.

Shaking off the dull fog that clouded his brain, he left the room, ready to make his way to his next class. He hesitated at the top of the stairs. Voices drifted up from the common room. It sounded as if a large crowd had assembled there. Harry hated the idea of running the gauntlet of more staring eyes. He wondered whether, if he waited a short time, the crowd would dissipate.

He was just deciding to return to his room when he heard his name mentioned. Mentally, he groaned but he was curious enough to try to overhear what was being said. There were numerous people speaking. Harry didn’t recognize most of the voices.

“Are you sure this is the right station?”

“I know what I’m doing,” came the irritated response. There was the sound of static as someone apparently fiddled with a wireless.

“Hurry! We’re going to miss it!”

“I didn’t skip Divination, and risk detention, just to listen to static!”

“Don’t worry. The Daily Prophet said it’d be on at 2 pm. It’s not quite that time yet. We haven’t missed anything,” someone assured.

“What do you think they’re going to say about Potter?”

“Probably just more about the fact that Harry’s back at Hogwarts.”

“Did you see him whip out his wand at lunch, when those owls came?” asked a boy excitedly. Although Harry couldn’t see who was speaking, he guessed from the high-pitched voice that it was a first year. “He was faster than Dumbledore!”

“He was awesome,” another boy agreed.

“He grew up expecting to be attacked at any moment. He’s probably always on alert,” responded an older girl.

“Shh! I’ve got it!” Suddenly, the wireless static disappeared and the sound came in clearly. Everyone in the common room settled down to listen.

“Hello, witches and wizards. This is Rita Skeeter, here with an exclusive interview with Minister Scrimgeour, as we promised in today’s Daily Prophet. Thank you, Minister, for taking the time to speak with me.”

“You’re welcome Rita. It’s always a pleasure.”

“We’re meeting, of course, to discuss the situation of Harry Potter. I remind our listeners that Minister Scrimgeour issued the welcome news late last night that Harry Potter was to return to Hogwarts this morning to complete his education.”

“Yes,” confirmed the Minister. “We are thrilled to announce that Harry was released from St. Mungo’s and is already back at school.”

“That’s wonderful. But, was Harry ready to be released from hospital? What about reports that he is very ill?”

“Such reports were grossly exaggerated,” dismissed Scrimgeour. “It’s true that Harry needs some medical treatment. I can’t go into the details, of course – patient confidentiality! But, he’ll be able to receive that treatment while at Hogwarts. We have no doubt that, once back at school, among his friends, Harry will soon be in robust health.”

“Minister,” there was a rustle as Rita apparently leaned toward Scrimgeour to ask her next question. “We are all sadly familiar with Harry’s rejection of the wizarding world following his defeat of You Know Who last spring. We cannot help wondering whether Harry is returning to Hogwarts willingly.”

Scrimgeour spoke in a stern, forceful voice. “Harry Potter belongs to the wizarding world. I have nothing against muggles, of course, but Harry is a wizard! We have a right to insist that he stay here.” Scrimgeour then attempted to lighten the mood. He laughed good-humoredly and said, “Besides, we can’t expect any teenage boy to want to go to school.”

Obediently, Rita laughed with the Minister and said, “Too true!”

The Minister continued. “It’s to be expected that a boy who has done as much as Harry thinks he should be allowed more free rein than a typical teenager. But, the Wizengamot, Headmaster Dumbledore, Healer Moulson, and Harry’s guardian all agreed that Harry would be best served in returning to Hogwarts.”

“His guardian? You can’t mean Harry’s aunt?”

“No, of course not, Rita. She was stripped of that privilege years ago, when we realized how unfit she and her husband were.”

“Then who?”

“The Wizengamot has appointed a new guardian for Harry. We were pleased to be able to appoint one of his favorite teachers, Severus Snape.”

“Snape!” Rita was shocked, but she recovered quickly. She was clearly thrilled with the juicy information she had just been given. “We know that Snape claimed to be a spy against You Know Who. However, many fear that he cleverly played both sides against each other. After all, he was among the Dark Lord’s inner circle. Are you sure that Snape can be trusted? Of all the possible choices, why was he selected as Harry’s guardian?”

Scrimgeour’s tone was disapproving. “Professor Snape fought against You Know Who and we should all respect his bravery.” Scrimgeour let a short pause follow his reprimand. Then, softening his tone, he explained, “Professor Snape was a logical choice, considering that he was a very close friend of Harry’s mother.”

“Really? A close friend, you say?” Harry could almost hear Rita salivating over this information. He clenched his fists. Rita’s tone of voice made everything sound so…dirty.

Scrimgeour’s silence was confirmation enough. Apparently satisfied with the innuendo for now, Rita pursued another line of questioning. “Harry will come of age in about seven months. Do you know what he’s planning to do then? Will he return to the muggle world?”

“We are pleased to be able to tell you that Harry will be staying at Hogwarts to complete his education.” Scrimgeour took a breath, knowing that the next bit of information was going to raise eyebrows. “The Wizengamot, after grave deliberation, invoked an old spell and placed Harry under an indenture that will take him through the end of his formal education. This will also ensure that Harry receives his medical treatment.”

There was a slight pause. “Do I understand correctly? Harry Potter is indentured? As a servant?” There was a note of disbelief in the question.

“No! Not as a servant!” Scrimgeour protested. Choosing his words carefully, he continued. “I know I speak for the wizarding world when I say that we owe that boy a debt of gratitude that we can never repay. The least we can do is ensure that Harry receives the best medical treatment that we can provide and that he completes his studies, as James and Lily Potter would have wished for their child. We need to help him learn his rightful place in our world. After all, he is the last of the Potter line, and heir to the Black fortune through his godfather Sirius Black. I don’t think anyone would hesitate to do what is in Harry’s best interests, do you?”

“Well, of course not. But, was this really necessary?”

“The Wizengamot agreed that it was.”

“This is the most unusual situation I have ever heard of!”

“Harry Potter is an unusual boy,” responded Scrimgeour. “But, he’s already settled back at school and this indenture is just a … technicality.”

“Minister, when will we be able to see him and speak with Harry? He has many admiring fans. Surely, you didn’t retrieve Harry from the muggle world just to hide him away at Hogwarts indefinitely?”

“Hah, hah, Rita! You just want to be able to interview the boy!” Scrimgeour accused playfully.

“Can you blame me?” asked the reporter, bantering. “He would be the interview of a career. There are so many questions that I want to ask him. My readers (and listeners) deserve to know.”

“I can’t promise a one-on-one, Rita, but I can tell you that Harry won’t be hidden away at Hogwarts. He’ll be attending public functions as appropriate, and as his school schedule permits.”

“You’ll let us know, won’t you? Now, I close this broadcast with a message to Harry Potter, if he’s listening. Welcome back home, Harry! We’re here for you!”

With this, someone turned off the wireless. Harry pressed himself against the side of the wall. He let the cool stone soothe his fevered body. It was humiliating to be discussed in such a public manner. It was an added insult that Rita Skeeter, who had fed the fire of hatred toward “Mark Twist” and who had been instrumental in stirring up anti-muggle sentiment even before Voldemort had risen again, would act the part of a concerned citizen worried about Harry Potter’s health and wellbeing. Harry swore to himself that he would never give Rita an interview. He would rather see her drowned in a sea of her own poisonous ink.

Rustling resumed in the common room and students all began talking at once. Harry caught some of the conversations.

“I can’t believe they forced him to come back!”

“Why didn’t they leave him alone?!”

“Don’t be stupid, Sharon. The Ministry’s not going to let Harry Potter wander around unprotected. Who knows how many Death Eaters may be out there still, looking to kill him.”

“He can take care of himself!”

“Without a wand? Remember he didn’t have one when he left us. He was only given a new wand when he came back.”

“But to force him to return?”

“Can you believe they let Snape hold his indenture?”

“Poor Harry!”

“No way Snape is Harry’s favorite teacher. That was a lie!”

“If Snape mistreats him, I’ll kill that evil git!”

“I don’t think Snape would dare. Dumbledore will keep an eye on him.”

“What do you suppose this medical treatment is?”

“Oh, it’s probably some foul-tasting vitamin drink or something Harry doesn’t want to take. You heard that he was supposedly suffering from malnutrition when they found him. He sure looks like he could use a few good meals.”

“I’m glad he’s back! He shouldn’t have left us in the first place!”

“Who can blame him, though? They sent him to Azkaban, for Merlin’s sake!”

“I don’t blame him! I’m just saying…”

“I agree! It’s like when I’m angry at my parents and I storm off to my room. It’s okay for a little while, but then I have to come back out and join my family again.”

“Harry doesn’t feel like we are his family,” said a voice sadly.

“Then, we have to change his opinion. Scrimgeour was right. Harry belongs here. It’s just too bad that they had to force him.”

“Harry’s so powerful that the Wizengamot has to do a spell to make him listen.” Harry heard the note of hero-worship in the voice; it sounded like the same high-pitched voice that had been impressed with Harry’s reaction to the owls at lunchtime. It was clear that the younger boy viewed Harry’s indenture as a mark of Harry’s power, not powerlessness. Harry was struck by this reasoning.

“Damn! Look at the time!”

Harry heard the sounds of people scrambling to leave. In a short time, the flurry of activity died down as the common room emptied of students.

Harry slowly finished descending the stairs. He was surprised. He had thought that people would treat him with contempt once they learned of the indenture. But, the others kids sympathized or – what a completely bizarre twist! -- been impressed by it. Either way, it was …nice… to have the support of his fellow Gryffindors.

*

Walking across the grounds, on his way to Herbology, Harry heard someone call his name loudly. “Harry! Harry!” He turned to see Hagrid hailing him. Harry’s heart lifted at seeing the big man striding toward him. Hagrid had a huge grin on his face.

Reaching Harry, Hagrid held out his hand. Harry’s hand was swallowed in Hagrid’s and it was pumped up and down vigorously. “I jus’ heard ye were back! I’ve been in the forest fer the last few days. It’s great to see ye!”

Harry smiled and said, “It’s good to see you too, Hagrid.”

“I’ve been wantin’ to tell ye for a long time now, ever since we found out ye were Harry Potter and not Mark Twist, that I knew yer folks. Grand people, they were. They’d been right proud of ye, Harry, an’ no mistake!”

“Thanks, Hagrid.”

“To me everlastin’ shame, I was the one who brought to yer relatives, when ye were jus’ a wee babe. Yer parents had been killed by You Know Who and Dumbledore had me fetch ye from yer house. I jus’ want ye to know, Harry, I would never have left ye with those bloody muggles if I had known how they would treat ye!” Hagrid started to sob. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks.

“It’s not your fault, Hagrid.” Harry wasn’t sure how to comfort the big man.

“I know ye blame Dumbledore, Harry,” said Hagrid. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his face. “But Dumbledore didn’t know that they would abuse ye. He was heartsick when we learned that ye had been mistreated. Dumbledore’s a good man, Harry. A great man.”

Harry didn’t want to argue with Hagrid. “That’s in the past, Hagrid.”

Hagrid looked like he wanted to say more but, reluctantly, changed the subject. “I got good news for ye, Harry! I’ve been taking care of Hedwig for ye.”

“What?!” Harry had wondered what had happened to his owl when he had been sent to Azkaban. He assumed that she had been given to another family. “You mean you have her? Is she okay?”

Hagrid nodded his bushy head, smiling. “Yeah. She’ll be excited to see ye, I know. I’ll bring her by tomorrow, okay?”“That will be great, Hagrid. Thank you so much!”

“Yer welcome, Harry.”

“I better get going to Herbology. I’ll be late.”

“Okay, Harry. But, you have to promise to have tea with me the first chance ye get!”

Harry smiled again. “Sure, Hagrid. I’m looking forward to it.” Waving goodbye, Harry continued to the greenhouse where class would be held.

He was only a few steps from the entrance of the greenhouse when Ron and Hermione dashed around the corner. It was clear that they had been running to get to class but, when they saw Harry, they stopped abruptly.

“Hi! You’re cutting it close,” commented Harry. “How come you’re so late?” he asked.

Ron blushed and looked guilty. Hermione hesitated and then, took a deep breath and admitted, “Actually, Harry, when you left the Great Hall at lunch, we finished untying all the messages from the owls. Some of the letters were for other people, of course, and some of the students, like me, have subscriptions to the Daily Prophet. There was an article about you, of course, and they read it aloud. The Daily Prophet announced that you had returned to Hogwarts and mentioned that Rita Skeeter was planning an interview with Minister Scrimgeour this afternoon to discuss you further. Terry Boot – you remember him, Harry?; he’s a Ravenclaw – had a wireless that he set up in one of the empty classrooms so that we could listen to the interview along with a bunch of others.”

Ron added, “There were about 30 of us. We all skipped our 2 o’clock classes to listen to what Scrimgeour had to say.”

Harry scowled and Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, clearly worried about Harry’s reaction to this news. Then, Hermione asked tentatively, “Would you like us to tell you what Scrimgeour said?”

Harry shook his head. “I already know what he said. I heard the interview too.”

“What?!” asked Ron in surprise. “Where? How?”

“Someone set up a wireless in the Gryffindor common room. A group of kids listened to it. They didn’t know I could overhear.”

“Oh,” said Hermione. She was quiet for a moment as she processed this information. Then she asked, “Well, what did you think?”

Harry’s scowl deepened. “I think that the Ministry is as big a bunch of liars as ever. Pretending that Snape is my favorite teacher. Acting as if my not wanting to return to Hogwarts is some …teenage rebellion. Sugar-coating the indenture They had no right to bring me back here.” Harry shook his head in disgust.

Just then, another group of students rounded the corner of the greenhouse, out of breath from running. They also stopped when they saw Harry. An awkward silence filled the air. Realizing that these students were late because they also were coming from having listened to the interview, Harry rolled his eyes and muttered, “Did the whole school listen to this interview?”

Apparently not realizing that the question was rhetorical, Ron nodded and answered seriously. “I would be surprised if anyone missed it.”

Harry made a sound of disgust in his throat and stomped through the door of the greenhouse to take his place at one of the tables. Once again, all heads swiveled to watch him as he sat down. Ron, Hermione, and the other students who had arrived late, trailed in after Harry.

Professor Sprout did not comment on their tardiness. Instead, clearing her throat to regain the class’ attention, she continued the lesson, which had only just begun anyway.

*

Harry entered the Great Hall for dinner with Ron, Hermione, and a few other students. Even though heads turned, it was easier for Harry to ignore since he wasn’t alone. Harry knew that many of the students were looking at him to see if his indenture was somehow visible. Recalling the view of the young Gryffindor, that Harry’s indenture was evidence that he was a powerful wizard, Harry refused to shrink from the stares. He threw back his shoulders and walked proudly toward the Gryffindor table.

He ate a few bites, but found the eyes boring into his back distracting. Half-way through his meal, he put down his fork and turned around to sweep his eyes over the Great Hall. As he suspected! Many people had been staring at him, but a few dropped their eyes guiltily when Harry turned around.

Without stopping to think, but feeling like he had reached the end of his patience, Harry stood up. “Where are you going?” asked Ron startled.

Harry didn’t answer. He strode to the front of the room and turned to face the house tables. The staff table was behind him. All eyes were now firmly on him, and the noise in the Great Hall ceased. “All right, already!” Harry called. “Take a good look at me now, because I want the staring to stop! It’s driving me crazy!”

Behind him, Harry thought he heard a snort. He wondered what teacher had made the sound. But, he couldn’t turn around to look. He continued to face the other students and he threw his arms out wide. “Yes, I’m back! Yes, I’m Harry Potter! Yes, I’m here under protest and under an indenture to Professor Snape! Now, stop the staring!”

And, with that, he went back to the table and slid in beside Ron again. Ron tried to hide the fact that he was smiling behind his hand.

“What?” demanded Harry.

Ron lowered his hand and let his smile shine. “I don’t think that your speech is going to stop people from staring.”

Harry looked around and saw that, indeed, Ron was right. If anything, even more eyes were looking his way. Harry groaned and grabbed his hair with his hands.

Hermione laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Harry. It will die down in a few days. Just ignore it for now.”

“I’m going to jinx the next person who looks at me!” Harry warned.

Ron and Hermione burst out laughing.

Ginny’s soft voice interrupted. “Don’t be angry, Harry. They’re all just interested in you.”

Harry’s eyes softened when he looked at Ginny. He usually avoided looking in her direction because she made him feel a bit nervous. “I’m not sure I like being so famous.”

She smiled at him, and Harry felt his stomach clench. “You shouldn’t have saved our world then.” Her eyes glowed a little.

Harry felt his cheeks redden. “I…I…”

Ginny waited patiently for him to finish his sentence. Harry took a breath and admitted, “I was born to kill Voldemort.”

Ginny sucked in her breath at the mention of the name. But, she maintained eye contact with Harry and smiled gravely. “I know. You are the hero.”

Harry’s face flamed. He remembered that, during his battle with Voldemort, he had claimed to be the hero. Now, Ginny was using the same words. Was she remembering what he had said? Did she think he had been arrogant?

Seeming to read his mind, Ginny leaned forward and said, her voice slightly deepened, “You are the hero.” She leaned back again and, in a normal tone, said, “That’s why we all stare.”

Harry didn’t know what to say or where to look. His heart beat uncomfortably against his chest and his palms felt sweaty. He was grateful when Hermione made a comment about the Charms class they had all missed. He suspected that Hermione had deliberately changed the subject and he was glad. It gave him an excuse to look away from Ginny. It took a few minutes, but his heartbeat returned to normal and he felt his flushed face cool.

Every so often throughout the rest of the dinner, Harry would glance at Ginny. He thought it ironic that, while other students were sneaking looks at him, he was sneaking looks at Ginny Weasley.