It was blustery and chilly the afternoon of Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts, thin clouds scuttling along the slate-gray sky. Throughout the castle, athletes changed out of their school uniform, laced up their Quidditch robes, and strapped their gloves on.
Harry felt more nervous than he had expected, but he pegged it on the fact that he was flying on Ron's old Nimbus Two Thousand instead of his long-lost Firebolt.
"Are you sure you don't want to try out for Keeper?" Harry asked his best friend, who sat on the bed across from him. "You're talented enough, and Ginny will definitely let you."
"Positive," Ron replied, tossing a green apple back and forth between his hands. "Honestly, I can't be bothered. Schoolwork is enough for me this year. I want to keep things laid-back, you know? Speaking of which," Ron threw the apple to Harry, who caught it out of reflex, "I've got a Herbology essay to write that Hermione's gonna help me with. D'you mind if we stay here? You'll make it for sure, anyway."
Harry shrugged and stood up from his bed. "Yeah, that's fine. See you later."
"See you."
Gripping the apple absentmindedly, Harry left the dorm and emerged into the common room, where a handful of Slytherins plus Hermione and the Patil twins pored over their books. Among them was Draco, writing an essay in perfect cursive.
"Where're you off to, Potter?" He asked, without lifting his head, as Harry passed by.
"Quidditch tryouts," Harry said, tossing the apple into the air once and catching it.
"Mind if I watch?" Malfoy said, closing his book with a thud. "I could use a break."
"Yeah, alright. Grab a coat, the pitch gets windy."
"I've been to the Quidditch pitch before, Potter," Draco said dryly. Nevertheless, he picked up the black coat and Slytherin-striped scarf draped on the back of his chair.
A few minutes later, the pair of them strode across the grounds towards the Quidditch field, Harry holding his broom in one hand and tossing the apple with the other.
"Pre-tryout snack?" Malfoy asked, amused.
"What?" Harry looked at the apple and blinked. "Oh. Er... I'm not supposed to bring food. Ron gave it to me, you see, and I forgot I had it..."
Draco sighed loudly, cutting off what would've turned into an aimless, rambling tangent. "Give it here."
Harry obligingly dropped the fruit into Draco's slender hand. The Slytherin eyed it a moment before biting into the waxy surface.
"Are you wearing the necklace?" Malfoy asked in between bites.
"No. Jewelry's a safety hazard."
"Shame. It'd probably be able to warn you if someone intended to send a Bludger your way."
Harry tapped his broomstick against his thigh, thoughtfully. "Huh. I never thought about it that way. Wouldn't that be cheating?"
"If you get caught," Draco said with a smirk. He finished off the apple and tossed its core to the ground.
"That was fast," Harry remarked, watching it roll away in the grass.
"I like apples."
Above the pitch, swirling figures darted around each other like red flies. Ginny's voice shouted from the ground, and Harry's heart skipped a beat as her fiery hair came into view. Clutching his broom tightly, he breathed deeply and tried to shake away his nerves. The youngest Seeker in a century. He reminded himself. Who got dumped by his girlfriend, spoke another thought, but he pushed it away.
"Looks like they've started without you," Draco said. "You might as well give up."
"They're doing warmup laps."
"I'm messing with you, Potter. Loosen up."
"Piss off, Malfoy," Harry said with a grin.
"Yeah, alright. Good luck."
"Thanks."
The wind kissed his face like an old friend as Harry kicked off from the ground. Though the Nimbus hardly had the turning ability of the Firebolt, it still flew beautifully. Harry landed on the pitch without so much as a whisper from his feet. Slightly breathless, Harry palmed his broomstick and walked over to Ginny, who yelled to the flyers above and gestured at them with a clipboard.
"Tryouts are supposed to start now, you lot! Come down! Oh, hiya, Harry," Ginny gave him a glance.
"Hey, Ginny."
"Just a minute..." Ginny pulled out her wand and touched it to her throat. "Sonorus. COME DOWN, PLEASE."
With an overpowering whooshing noise, dozens of scarlet-clad athletes landed in a group in front of her, some less gracefully than others. Among the faces, Harry saw only a couple he recognized from the tryouts and subsequent team two years prior.
"Hello, everyone. I know you're all excited to fly, but-" Ginny glanced at Harry again, who stood next to her. "Potter, could you stand with our prospective players, please?"
"Oh, right." Harry shuffled to the crowd and faced her. He missed being captain, but Ginny was no doubt talented, and indeed more professional than he had ever been. She's never called me Potter before, he thought, with a small sinking feeling.
"I'm glad to see such enthusiastic players and a great number at that. Of course, that means it'll be harder than ever to pick our team. If you're willing to work hard and put in the hours..."
Harry tuned out the spiel he'd heard and given many times before. He looked up to the bleachers, where a small crowd of fans had gathered. Sitting apart from them, Draco appeared as an all-black figure with a shock of blond hair and a stripe of green about his throat. Harry knew precisely how meticulously the scarf was tied, and somehow felt pleased to be aware of that detail.
"But of course, the most important thing is to have fun and try not to break any bones," Ginny said with a broad, Fred-like grin. "Break up into your groups and let's get started!"
Harry stood frozen, suddenly wishing he had paid attention, as the rest of the players split up. Luckily, Ginny gestured for him to stand with her.
"Do you mind helping me out today?" She said, keeping a close eye on the players as they lined up to score against the first potential keeper. "The few people who were going to try out for Seeker decided not to once they saw you sign up."
"That's a shame. It would've been nice to get to know the talent for next year."
"My thoughts exactly!" Ginny flashed a smile at him, then made a few marks on her clipboard.
Standing so close to her, Harry felt a wave of awkwardness settle over him. Remembering how he used to hold her, how sweetly he'd kiss her...it seemed almost silly now to backpedal into being friends.
Draco caught his eye, and Harry realized that the same could be said for the Slytherin. After all, they'd been bitter rivals for years, and now they grew steadily more comfortable with each other as any pair of new friends would. If an enemy could become a friend, couldn't a lover also?
"Harry..." Ginny began as she waved the first group down, "Look, I know we haven't spoken much since..."
"Since you broke up with me, yeah."
"Right. But I just wanted to clear the air. I hope that there are no hard feelings between us and that we can remain friends. I miss talking to you, like normal." She turned to look at him, and Harry met her dark eyes.
"I miss that too."
"So, we're cool?"
"Sure, Weasley," Harry said, giving her a friendly punch in the shoulder.
"Cool. Oh, that was a good save," Ginny whistled appreciatively, and placed a checkmark next to a name on her clipboard. "Group two, swap out!" She called, and the players obliged. "I'll have you join them in a minute, so you can get a feel for the play."
When Harry kicked off into the air for the second time, all his worries flew away in a gust of wind. He scoffed at himself for getting so nervous for tryouts, though he could've been worried about seeing Ginny again.
Hopefully, that will be my last bit of drama for a while. Harry rose high above the pitch, watching the players as they weaved around each other like dancers. He smiled to himself, looking forward to what would surely be a violence-free, easy school year.
But then again, who was he kidding? He was Harry Potter.
• • •
An hour later, Ginny had managed to sort through the thirty-odd players, narrowing them down to a full team with a couple of backups. Harry was duly impressed that she had come to a decision so quickly; he deliberated for a whole week before choosing the final team in sixth year.
"Gather 'round, everyone," Ginny said. She cleared her throat and flipped to the second page of her clipboard. "Chasers: Willow Amara, Danny Cliffe, and me. Beaters: Richie Coote and Eleanor Hicks. Keeper: Quinn Winters. Congratulations, kiddo." A shy but agile wisp of a girl stepped forward and received claps on the back from the others. A third-year, she was the youngest Keeper for at least a generation. "Seeker: Harry Potter. And that, my friends, is your 1998-1999 Gryffindor Quidditch team. Practice starts at five next Tuesday. See you all there!"
Ginny sighed with relief as the crowd dispersed, players chatting, congratulating, and lamenting as they tromped across the grass.
"We've got an amazing team this year," Harry said confidently. "Especially with you leading it."
"Thanks," Ginny replied, "If we work hard, we just might snag the Cup. Luna!" She called suddenly, her face lighting up.
Luna Lovegood walked serenely towards them, not in a rush by any means. Her long blonde hair was held back with two butterfly clips, and her Ravenclaw scarf brushed the ground. "Hello, Harry," She said politely, linking her arm with Ginny's. "Tryouts go well?" Luna asked the captain.
"Oh, yes," Ginny gushed. "Just perfect. We have a solid shot at winning it all this year."
"That's wonderful," Luna said as the pair of them began to walk back to the castle. "Nice to see you, Harry."
"You too." Harry watched them go, feeling slightly envious of their friendship. Ever since Ron and Hermione got together, he'd felt kind of neglected. He did have Draco, but their friendship was tentative at best.
Malfoy stood just outside the pitch, standing still and black against the green of the surrounding mountains. He was looking into the distance, but when he heard Harry's footsteps, he turned to face him.
"You're still here?" Harry asked, unlacing his outer robes with one hand.
"Friends wait for other friends," Draco replied with an elegant shrug. "Besides, I have nothing better to do," He added quickly.
"Right," Harry said, turning his face away to hide a grin. He paused and dropped his broomstick on the ground to shed his outer Quidditch robes. "Merlin, it's hot."
"It's freezing out here, Potter. What are you on about?"
"Flying makes me warm." Harry draped the robes over his arm and continued walking. "You could've gone back to the castle if you're cold."
"I'm not cold."
"Uh-huh."
Draco made a face at his companion and crossed his arms in a gruff manner. Harry noticed that his shoulders were tense with cold, but he decided not to say anything.
As they passed through the doors, Draco suddenly looked back again at the landscape. A syrupy twilight began to fall over the forest-green mountains, the last of the day's gold sunlight finally breaking through the clouds and pooling where shadows did not yet deign to fall. The Slytherin's brow furrowed, and his lips moved slightly as if to speak.
"Something on your mind?"
Malfoy shrugged and did not reply for a moment, feigning nonchalance, but Harry could sense hesitance in the air around him. "Something's always on my mind, Potter," He said, facing him. The sky reflected in his gray eyes, turning them into orbs of gold melted with quicksilver. Mesmerized for a fraction of a second, Harry's breath caught in his throat.
But the moment passed as soon as it came, and they trudged inside without another glance at each other.
Although the dim green light of the dungeons posed a stark difference to the warm colors of the Gryffindor common room, the fire burning cheerily in the hearth was just the same. Ron and Hermione, the latter snug in the former's arms, sat on a loveseat as they reviewed an essay.
"See, I understand what you're trying to say here, but remember: always connect your statements back to the thesis," Hermione said to Ron. They were fully absorbed in their work, but when Harry cleared his throat, they both looked up. "Hello, Harry!" Hermione said brightly. "How'd tryouts go?
"I got in as Seeker by default , so I just helped Ginny out with picking players for the team."
"That's great!" Hermione said with a smile, but it faded as she noticed Malfoy. The Slytherin had only just melted out of the shadows behind Harry.
Ron scowled at Draco's presence. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"Am I not allowed to be in my own common room?"
"Both of you, calm down," Hermione cut in. "Don't have a row this late."
"It's seven, Hermione," Harry started, but she shut him up with a look.
"No, Granger's right," Draco said haughtily. "I don't belong here, anyway. See you tomorrow, Potter."
With a deliberately dramatic sweep of his coat, Malfoy stormed away to the dorms. As soon as he left, Harry crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at his best friend.
"What?" Ron said defensively. "You're telling me that snake actually watched you at tryouts?"
"He did, actually," Harry said, "Because he's my...friend. Anyway, what's your problem? I thought you were okay with me talking to him."
"Well, yeah, but I didn't think you'd get close," Ron said. "It's weird, you hanging out so much with him and stuff. Harry," he added, lowering his voice. "He was a Death Eater."
"Not anymore!"
"Don't you remember what Sirius told us? Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. Still applies when You-Know-Who died. And he still has the Dark Mark."
"He doesn't, actually," Harry shot back. He was pacing back and forth on the carpet as they argued. Hermione was growing visibly more and more uncomfortable as they raised their voices, but a look of curiosity came over her face when Harry said that.
"How do you know that?" She asked slowly.
Harry realized his mistake and stopped pacing, caught like a deer in the beam of his friends' gaze. "Er...intuition?"
Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "You're a terrible liar, Harry. He got him to remove it for you, didn't he?"
The Chosen One's eyes widened slightly. "How did you...?"
"I've done a lot of reading on Voldemort," Hermione did not linger on the wicked name, "And the intricacies of his followers. There were only a few pages on the Dark Mark. Not much is known about how it's given, and I didn't even know it could be taken away until I came across a few certain lines. Apparently, it's a relatively easy incantation, but it requires a deep emotional connection between the bearer and the remover of the Mark." She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "What have you and Malfoy been doing to make yourselves deeply emotionally connected?"
"Nothing!" Harry felt heat rising up his face, and he was grateful for the orange firelight. "I guess it comes from being enemies for seven years."
"That sounds like a weak excuse, mate," Ron said wryly.
"You think so?" Harry scowled. "What are you implying?"
Ron raised a hand in a gesture of surrender, the other shifting Hermione off his lap. "Nothing, really," The redhead patted Harry on the shoulder and slipped into the dimness, towards their dorms. "I'm going to get some of my notes.
In his absence, Hermione looked up at her friend, scrutinizing him with an amused smile playing across her lips. Harry could practically see the brassy cogs turning in her head. Feeling observed, Harry said suddenly, "I'm going to bed."
"Alright. Goodnight, Harry."
"'Night, Hermione."
In the warm darkness of the dorms, Harry was able to get away from his friends' questions. The only sound rippling through the silence was Draco's breathing, which sounded slow and even. Though Harry doubted that the Slytherin would fall asleep that quickly, especially so early, he still kept quiet as he got dressed.
With a silken rustle of emerald sheets, Harry slipped into bed and took off his glasses, setting them on the nightstand. The night cradled him in its embrace, and he inched towards unconsciousness, hoping for no dreams but expecting nightmares. But sleep was a long time coming, his mind unable to keep off the grey-eyed boy only a few feet away.