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Author: Delylah Story: Harry Potter and the Deadly Deception Rating: Teens Setting: AU Status: WIP Reviews: 1 Words: 61,877
Harry was grateful that Care of Magical Creatures had been relatively uneventful. He was the only Slytherin enrolled in the class, and, although he had been subjected to numerous scornful glances from Gryffindor students, no one had said anything directly to him that was confrontational. The class had worked with Clabberts that day, which were fairly tame for Hagrid's standards. Harry had avoided Ron and Hermione, which wasn't difficult, as Ron was pretending he didn't exist, and Hermione seemed to want to forget he existed. It suited Harry fine; he didn't feel like getting into another argument about the D.A. so soon. He hoped they would be able to work out their differences at the first meeting. Care of Magical Creatures was Harry's last class for the day; it ended just in time for him to make it to Professor Dumbledore's office by four, as the note Snape had given him earlier had instructed. He whispered "pepper imp" to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office and stepped onto the spiral staircase as it rose from the ground. Professor Dumbledore was waiting for him. "Ah, Mr. Jameson. Have a seat." Dumbledore motioned to one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. Harry sat down in one of them, and Dumbledore sat in one facing him. There was a tea tray on the desk with service for two and a plate of biscuits. "Would you like some tea, Evan?" Harry sighed and asked, "Must you call me that here?" "Yes. It is your name now. It wouldn't do for me to call you one name in private and another in public. Besides, you must get used to reacting to being called Evan Jameson. Becoming used to a new name takes time, so the more practice you have, the better." Professor Dumbledore poured two cups of tea and offered one to Harry, then nudged the plate of biscuits towards him. Harry accepted the tea but shook his head at the plate of biscuits. Dumbledore shrugged, then took a biscuit for himself. They sipped their tea together in silence, and Harry began to grow uncomfortable until Dumbledore finally spoke again. "How was your first day?" "Honestly?" "I always want you to be honest," the professor replied quietly. Harry placed the teacup on the desk and leaned forward towards the Headmaster. "How do you think it went? It was horrible. I've been sorted into Slytherin. I'm rooming with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. My best friends are still mourning me, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it. I can't even ride my Firebolt anymore, and everyone has assumed that I must be a Death Eater or a Dark wizard because I'm from Durmstrang, and Ron hates my guts." "Mr. Weasley doesn't hate you." "Of course he does. I'm a Slytherin. Gryffindors hate Slytherins; it's in the school handbook. Besides, it's just as well if he does." "Why do you say that?" the professor asked, sounding perplexed. "Because I don't think I could stand to be near them and not tell them. It was hard enough yesterday with Ginny," Harry answered. He slumped back in his chair as the weight of the events of the past day and a half sank in. "Ah, yes, Miss Weasley. I understand you shared a compartment with her on your journey." "Yes, I did. She couldn't even bear to mention my name. I can't stand seeing her like that, or Ron and Hermione. Professor, I don't think this is going to work. Someone is going to know. And they'll be so angry when they find out." "Evan, we've discussed this before." "I know." ~~~~~~~~~~ 15 August, 1996 Harry had discovered the day after his "resurrection" that he had been Portkeyed to Mrs. Figg's house. The members of the Order of the Phoenix were still using number twelve, Grimmauld Place, as their headquarters, and as they all believed he was dead, Mrs. Figg's house seemed to be the next best place for him. As she was Harry's guardian, her home had been protected for years by the strongest magical wards possible. Professor Dumbledore trusted her to not reveal the truth about Harry's "death" to anyone; she'd been keeping the secret of Harry's location for so long that it made sense she could be trusted with this new secret as well. Harry was beginning to get cabin fever; he wasn't allowed out of the house under any circumstances. He had to admit, though, that it wasn't as bad as staying with the Dursleys had been, once he became accustomed to the quaint odor. At least Mrs. Figg treated him like a human being. And with the cats around, he had plenty of company, if he wanted it. The trouble was, he didn't really want any company. Dumbledore had attempted to engage him in conversation several times, but Harry didn't want to talk to him. He knew that the Headmaster had his reasons for placing him in this situation, but it didn't make it any less horrible. The people he wanted to talk to most were the very same people who believed he was dead: Ron, Hermione, even Ginny. He would give anything to hear them joke or laugh, or even yell at him for worrying them so. He thought he might go mad, and he didn't understand how Dumbledore could possibly expect him to cope. "Hello, Harry." Harry looked up from where he was reading A Tale of Two Cities on the bed in Mrs. Figg's spare room. "Hello, Professor," he replied in a dull voice. Professor Dumbledore sat down in the same small chair near the bed that he had occupied when Harry had first awakened in this room four days ago. He cleared his throat and then said, "How are you feeling today?" Harry looked at him as if he were crazy; then he laughed. "Oh, just great, for a dead man. Can't go outside, can't talk to my friends, ever. I might as well be invisible." "Funny you should say that. I believe I have come up with a way for you to be just that." "What, invisible?" Harry sat up, intrigued by the notion that he could possibly become invisible without depending upon his father's Invisibility Cloak. "In a manner of speaking," Professor Dumbledore said cryptically. He handed Harry a book with a worn, deep blue cover. The spine was engraved in gold lettering with the title Camouflaging Your Countenance: An Auror's Guide to Self-Concealment. He watched with a faint twinkle in his eyes as Harry began to examine the gift. "What's this?" Harry asked, puzzled. "It's a guide to magically altering your appearance. It contains spells and potions that can effect changes in your face and body for any length of time, from five minutes to fifty years. It's your ticket to a new life, Harry." "A new life?" "Harry, you didn't think I would keep you here indefinitely, did you?" Professor Dumbledore smiled sadly when Harry nodded in response. "You must return to school; you still have two years before you leave Hogwarts. You must continue your studies and take your N.E.W.T.s if you expect to enter Auror training." "Hogwarts? I can't go back to Hogwarts," Harry said, shaking his head fervently. "Why can't you?" Dumbledore asked sincerely. "Um, let's see. Maybe because I'm supposed to be dead?" Harry said sarcastically. He was beginning to wonder if senility was a problem among wizards of Dumbledore's age. "A new name, a new face.... I think with enough preparation, you can manage it." Harry was unconvinced. "Why can't I just go to one of the other wizarding schools, where no one knows me?" "I thought you would be more comfortable attending Hogwarts. I felt you had come to think of it as home." "I do. I just don't think.... I don't understand how this can possibly work. Couldn't I study at home?" "You could, Harry, but you would be missing out on opportunities to be with other people your own age. You would have to give up playing Quidditch, wandering around the castle in your Invisibility Cloak and causing general mayhem. I'm afraid you would find it quite dull," the professor answered, smiling faintly. "But Professor...how can I not tell them?" "I'm not saying it will be easy, Harry. I'm just pointing out that it is likely your best option. There is something else to consider as well: now that you can no longer call the Dursleys' house your home, Hogwarts is the safest place for you. While I won't say that you would be beyond reach, you would be near people who are best able to protect you. I couldn't say the same if you were to attend either Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, even if I sent a companion with you." Professor Dumbledore stood and nodded slightly towards Harry. "I'll leave you to think about it." He turned to go, but Harry's voice stopped him. "Wait." Dumbledore paused in his steps and turned back towards Harry, who closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "I'll do it." "Are you certain? Again, it won't be easy." "No, I'm not certain at all. I think the entire idea is cracked. But I can't stand the thought of not being at Hogwarts more than I can't stand the thought of being at Hogwarts." "Very well, Harry. We will begin working on your transfigurations tomorrow. Get some rest tonight." The Headmaster left without another word, and Harry began paging through the book he had left. He's mad if he thinks I can pull this off, Harry thought. Then again, I must be even madder for going along with it. ~~~~~~~~~~ Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts to focus on what Dumbledore was saying. "This was the best solution we could come up with, Evan. It's not perfect, and I know it will be difficult. I don't think you would have found it easier at either of the other wizarding schools, however. I still believe that Hogwarts is the safest place for you. You're in familiar surroundings with immediate access to help, should you need it." "But Professor...this was just the first day. How long am I going to have to keep this up?" Professor Dumbledore did not answer for a long moment. When he did, finally, his voice was grave. "As long as it takes, I'm afraid." "You mean until Voldemort is defeated." Harry made this statement with surety and was not surprised when Dumbledore nodded. Harry closed his eyes in despair, as the enormity of keeping up the pretense of being someone he wasn't weighed heavily on him. I can't do this, a small voice inside his head cried in frustration. But another voice, stronger than the first, said, You have to. I have to, Harry repeated and, knowing that it was true, resolved to make it through this year, no matter what it took. He opened his eyes to meet Professor Dumbledore's gaze and was cheered by what he thought was a faint look of pride in the old Headmaster's eyes. "Professor Shacklebolt informed me you volunteered to take up leading the D.A. this year." "Yes, sir," Harry said apprehensively. He wondered for a moment if Professor Dumbledore was about to forbid him to have anything to do with the D.A. "May I ask why you would accept such a responsibility? After everything that has happened, I thought you might wish to have a rest this year. As Evan Jameson, you don't have the same types of obligations that your alter ego did." "Just because you call me Evan Jameson now doesn't mean I'm not still me inside," Harry said, a slight edge to his voice. To his surprise, Professor Dumbledore smiled. "I'm pleased you've realized that. I had begun to wonder if you ever would." "What is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked. "It means that it has never mattered that you were Harry Potter, or the Boy Who Lived. Your names have nothing to do with your identity, with the man you are becoming. They never have." Harry was completely befuddled by the turn the conversation had taken. "I'm too tired to even make sense of that right now," he said. "You'll understand soon enough. Now, the D.A. will need a practice area. You discussed with Professor Shacklebolt that the club will be open to all fourth years and above?" Harry nodded, and the professor rubbed his hands together in apparent excitement. "Very good. I would suggest meeting outdoors until the weather prevents it. You'll need a large, wide-open space to practice jinxes and counter-jinxes. You plan on inviting members of other houses to help you lead?" "Yes, sir," Harry said, nodding once more. He was enormously relieved that the Headmaster approved of his volunteering to lead the D.A. again and hadn't realized how much the opportunity meant to him until he thought it might be taken away. "Excellent. I think that's a wise choice. I hope that Mr. Weasley might be amenable to the idea, once he has had a chance to think about it." "Maybe, but I doubt it." Another thought occurred to Harry. "Professor, is it all right if I try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team?" "As you are no longer riding the Firebolt, I don't see why not." "Thanks, Professor." Harry stood to leave, but Dumbledore stopped him. "One other thing before you go, Evan. You've no doubt noticed that you have a block of time reserved for ‘Independent Study' on Mondays and Wednesdays?" "Yes, sir." "Those sessions have been set aside for you to resume your study of Occlumency." "No." The word had escaped Harry's mouth before it had even registered in his brain, but he refused to take it back. Studying Occlumency last term with Snape had been one of the worst experiences of his life; he refused to submit himself to additional mental torment at the hands of the Potions master. "Evan, this matter is not negotiable. However," the professor raised his hand when Harry would have interrupted him, "I will be conducting your lessons this term." Harry's protest died on his lips. Studying Occlumency with Professor Dumbledore couldn't possibly be as bad as it had been with Professor Snape. As he looked on, the Headmaster pulled two thick books from the bookshelf closest to his chair and handed them to him. "We will begin our sessions next week. Take these books, and read the first chapter of each before then," the professor said. "And Evan?" Harry looked up from the book he had begun paging through. "Don't be late for detention this evening." Harry smiled ruefully. "No, Professor. I won't." He tucked the books under his arm and left the office, lost in thought. ~~~~~~~~~~ When Ginny trudged into the Gryffindor common room after her last class, Ron and Hermione were waiting for her on one of the sofas. "Hey, Ginny. How'd your first day back go?" Ron asked. "All right, I guess. I can't believe how much homework we have. I have to write three feet of parchment on vanishing and practice vanishing my quills. I have to write another three feet on the properties of the ingredients in the Draught of Peace. Professor Flitwick wants two feet of parchment on the theory behind summoning and banishing charms, and he hinted he might be giving us a pop quiz tomorrow on the material we covered last year, so I've got to revise that tonight, as well. I think they're trying to kill us!" "You'll be thankful when it comes time to take your O.W.L.s at the end of the year, Ginny," Hermione said in a serious tone. Ginny looked at her incredulously for a moment. Then she simply shook her head, walked over to an armchair and collapsed, moaning. "Only you would consider impossible amounts of homework as something to be grateful for, Hermione." "Well, she did get twelve O.W.L.s last year. What can you expect?" Ron asked. "I'll be happy with half that number." Ginny kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her on the chair. "How did your day go? Better than mine, I hope." "Oh, it was just loverly," Ron said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. This can't be good, Ginny thought. As she looked over at her brother, she noticed Hermione rubbing his arm absently. Fascinated, she risked a glance at the other girl's face. Hermione didn't seem to be aware of her own actions, as she was frowning at Ron all the while. Ginny faked a cough to cover the smile that crept across her face, then looked back at Ron, who had slumped against the back of the sofa. "Was it that bad?" she asked. "Worse," he replied. "First class of the day was Potions. Malfoy was shooting his fat mouth off as usual, and when I did something about it, Snape gave us detention. For a week." "Ron, what on earth did you do?" Ginny asked, shocked. She knew that Ron, like all the Weasleys (except Percy), caused his fair share of trouble, but it was the first day of classes, for Merlin's sake! "He slugged Malfoy," Hermione answered, with a note of disapproval as well as one of faint pride. "Well, he tried to, anyway. The ferret saw it coming and ducked." "Oh, Ron, you didn't," Ginny said, echoing Hermione's disapproval. "Hell, yes, I did!" Ron retorted angrily. "He was making nasty comments about Hermione. He also thinks that what happened to Harry was funny—said he's sorry he wasn't there to see it." Ginny sucked in her breath and felt a wave of rage wash over her. "No," she whispered and looked over to Hermione, who nodded, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Ginny's hands clenched into fists. "Good for you, Ron. I would have helped, if I'd been there. I wish you had smashed his face in." "Hermione and that prat, Jameson, jumped in to stop us. Then Snape came in and gave all four of us detention, and subtracted sixty points from Gryffindor." "Oh, you're the reason, then. I heard some of the other Gryffindors complaining about that at lunchtime," Ginny said in a small voice. "So did I," Ron said gloomily. "No doubt they know it was because of me, by now." "If they do, then they also know the reason, and they won't mind. There isn't a member of this house that wouldn't agree with what you did, Ron," Ginny said. Ron grunted and looked out the window. "Are you going to tell her the rest?" Hermione asked him. "There's more?" Ginny asked. "Sort of," Hermione answered. "I don't really think it was anything bad, but Ron...." "Tell me," Ginny said to her friend, when her brother refused to speak. Hermione took a deep breath and launched into an explanation. "We had Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon with Professor Shacklebolt. Oh, wait until you see the syllabus, Ginny! It looks so exciting. We have independent projects to work on this year, and—" "That sounds great, Hermione, but what happened?" Ginny asked impatiently. "Oh, right. Well, Professor Shacklebolt told us he wanted to reinstate Dumbledore's Army. Then he asked for a student volunteer to help organize and lead it." Hermione stopped and looked over at Ron, who stubbornly refused to meet her gaze and, instead, continued to stare out of the window. "Did Ron volunteer?" Ginny prompted, looking over at her brother. "Of course not!" Ron answered. "That was.... Harry was.... I won't do it. I can't fill Harry's shoes." "Ron, no one is asking you to fill Harry's shoes," Hermione said in a soothing tone. "Aren't they?" Ron retorted angrily. "Do you think I don't know that Harry would have been the bloody Quidditch captain this year? Do you think I don't know he was Dumbledore's first choice for prefect, even last year? It's not...it's not fair," he ground out. "He should have been here." Ginny's heart ached for her brother, for Hermione, for herself, too. Ron was right; it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Ron and Hermione had lost their best friend, that Remus Lupin had lost Sirius and Harry within months of each other, that Harry had lost his godfather, or that she had lost.... Well, she couldn't possibly compare her loss to Ron's and Hermione's. She stood and stepped over to the side of the sofa that Ron occupied and placed her hand upon his shoulder. "I know, Ron. I know," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "But don't you think Harry would have wanted these things for you? It's like Mum said. He wouldn't want us to put our lives on hold. He would have wanted someone to carry on with the D.A. I think he would be pleased if it were you." "Doesn't matter anyway, now," Ron groused. "The D.A. has a new leader." Surprised, Ginny asked, "Who?" "Jameson," Ron spat bitterly. "But Ron, he asked you if you would help," Hermione reminded him. "No. I won't do it. If he wants a leader from each of the houses, one of you two should do it." Hermione sighed in defeat and looked up at Ginny. Their eyes met in mutual understanding; Ginny could see that the other girl knew as well as she did that there was no point in arguing with Ron once he had made up his mind about something. Hermione looked back over at Ron and sighed. Ginny noticed that she had not stopped gently stroking his arm during the entire conversation. It's about time, she thought. Too bad Harry isn't.... Fortunately, Hermione spoke up again before Ginny could finish that thought. "I can't do it, either," she said. "I'm already overloaded with classes, and Professor Vector sent a note with our Hogwarts letters to let us know we would begin researching our seventh-year theses this year for Arithmancy. I wouldn't possibly have time to help lead the D.A., but I do still plan on being a member." As she finished, Hermione and Ron both looked up at Ginny expectantly. "Me?" Ginny protested weakly. "But I'm only in fifth year. I have O.W.L.s. And Quidditch. And...." "And you're brilliant at this kind of thing," Ron finished for her. "Your Bat-Bogey Hex is practically legendary, and you were one of the best students in the D.A. last year." Hermione added, "And Harry was only a fifth year when he started the D.A. He had O.W.L.s, and Quidditch, too. Not to mention—" Ginny cut Hermione off before she could continue. "All right, I get the point. Still, surely one of the older students will volunteer?" "I don't think so," Hermione said. "With Evan being a Slytherin...but you're already friends with him, Ginny." "Right. And this way you could keep an eye on him." Ginny glared at her brother. "Ron!" "What? Someone needs to!" Ginny rolled her eyes and sat on the arm of the sofa. Her first instinct had been to refuse, hands down. However, the more she thought about the D.A., and how much it had meant to Harry, she knew she had found a small way to repay him for saving her life so long ago. "All right, I'll do it," she said. "But for Harry, Ron, not because you think someone should spy on Evan." Ginny glanced at her watch. "I think I'll try to find Evan before dinner and ask him about it. See you two there?" "We'll be there," Hermione replied. "I'm going to head upstairs and drop my stuff off, Ron. I'll be back down in a few minutes." "I'll wait here," Ron said, and he watched her leave before turning to Ginny. "Ginny, about Quidditch, I'm holding tryouts this Saturday for the positions that are open. I expect you to be there." "Of course I'll be there, Ron. I want to try out for one of the Chaser spots. You know that," Ginny reminded him. "Chaser?" Ron said incredulously. "Absolutely not. You're the Seeker. I expect you to be there to help me organize everyone and help with tryouts," Ron said. "But Ron, I can't be the Seeker," Ginny said, shaking her head in denial. "And why the bloody hell not?" Ron asked, a knowing look in his eyes. Because Harry was the Seeker, and it's not fair, and I can't possibly fill Harry's shoes, Ginny thought, but she saw the look in her brother's eyes and knew that he had her. She couldn't possibly use the very same argument that she had just tried to talk him out of. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. "Ron, sometimes I hate you," she stated simply. "I know, Sis. The feeling's mutual," he said, punching her lightly in the arm as he smiled. "See you at dinner, Gin." Ginny opened the portrait of the Fat Lady and stepped through into the corridor. She had no idea where she would find Evan at this time of day. She thought the best chance she had would probably be to just head for the Great Hall and hope he showed up early for supper. She wound her way down the grand staircase at a light jog, and, as she approached the second-floor landing, a figure stepped from the archway directly into her path. Unable to stop in time, Ginny smacked into the other person head on and was knocked to the floor. ~~~~~~~~~~ "Ooof!" Harry gasped, when he collided with a rapidly moving, feminine figure. The girl lost her footing and fell backwards, landing on her bum in the middle of the landing. "Ouch!" said a familiar voice. Harry looked down and saw that it was Ginny who had run into him. She was rubbing her wrist as if she had injured it and did not seem to have noticed him yet. When she looked up, surprise crossed her features. "Oh, hello, Evan," she said. "I was just looking for you." "Hello," he replied and stood there stupidly, as if he had been hit by a stunning spell. He thought he was probably the last person Ginny wanted to speak to, save Malfoy. But, then, why did she say she was looking for me? he wondered. "Well, don't just stand there, help a girl up, will you?" Ginny asked, laughing. Harry shook himself as if he were coming out of a trance. "Oh, um, sorry." He stretched out a hand to her. Ginny grabbed it and pulled herself up off of the floor, then turned to dust off her robes. He noticed she was favouring her wrist. "Are you all right?" he asked. "I'm fine," she replied. "Sorry about that, wasn't watching where I was going. Where are you headed?" Ginny asked. "The Great Hall. It's suppertime," Harry answered. "Of course it is. I was headed there myself. Shall we?" Ginny nodded her head towards the stairs as an indication they should start walking, and Evan fell into step with her. "So, how was your first day at Hogwarts?" she asked. "Long," he replied, keeping his eyes focused on the stairs as they proceeded at a much slower pace than she had previously been travelling. Ginny nodded. "I heard about what happened in Professor Shacklebolt's class." "Did you?" Harry stopped and turned to face her. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that I have no business trying to replace the Great Harry Potter, too?" he said, his anger and frustration boiling to the surface almost immediately. Ginny stepped back, evidently surprised and offended by his words. When she found her voice, her tone was considerably colder. "I wasn't going to say anything of the sort. I was going to ask you if you wanted any help with the D.A. Hermione said you were interested in asking for leaders from the other houses. But if you're going to be a prat about it, then never mind." Ginny turned to leave, but Harry reached out a hand to her shoulder to stop her. "Wait, please." Ginny stopped and turned back to face him, her face a mask of stony indifference. She arched one eyebrow and stood with her arms folded, waiting for him to continue. "I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. "Like I said, it's been a long day. I don't like the Slytherins. They don't like me, and because I'm a Slytherin, no one else likes me, either. I was assigned detention for the rest of the week before my first class even started this morning. I've been getting "eat Flobberworms" looks all day long. Your brother accused me of trying to stage some sort of a coup, and I never bothered to eat lunch, so you can imagine I'm a bit stroppy by this time." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "All I wanted to do was try and fit in; that's why I volunteered for the D.A. If you were genuinely offering to help, I would be incredibly grateful. I asked your brother if he wanted to earlier...." Ginny's features had softened. "Yes, I know. Hermione and I tried talking him into it this afternoon. She thought it would be good for him, but he seems to think it would be dishonouring Harry," Ginny said forlornly. "And you don't?" Harry asked, uncertain if he was more surprised by Ron's attitude or Ginny's. "No. The D.A. was important to Harry. I think he would want us to continue in the tradition he started, which was to prepare us for what's out there. I'll be glad to help in any way I can. He...he saved my life once. I owe this to him." Harry was silent for a long moment; he had no idea now to respond. He was oddly touched by Ginny's willingness to help him, even though he was a Slytherin. He was even more touched by her desire to help him, Evan, out of respect for him, Harry. Gods, I'm so confused, he thought. Finally, he found the words he needed. "Thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. But, won't your brother be angry with you?" "No. Actually, he suggested I offer. He doesn't mind if I help, he just doesn't want to be the one. It's hard to explain. Besides, he's Quidditch captain this year, so he's already got a load on his shoulders." "I see." They had begun walking down the stairs once more and had reached the first floor. Harry opened the door that led to the marble staircase to the ground floor and held it for Ginny as she passed through. "Do you have any idea who else to ask?" "You might want to consider the prefects from the other houses, although they may be too wrapped up in prefect duties. Still, if it's leadership you want, they would be the best candidates." "I'll keep that in mind," Harry said. "Any idea when the first meeting will be?" Ginny asked. "Sometime next week. I'm still trying to settle in, you know? Besides, I've got Quidditch tryouts to think about, too." "Really? Good luck, then. I don't envy you. Malfoy is captain of the Slytherin team this year, from what I've heard." Ginny made a face, then continued. "Ron's already informed us we'll be up at the crack of dawn every morning until our first match. First game of the year is Gryffindor vs. Slytherin." "I didn't realize you were...on the team." Harry stopped himself from saying "still." "What position are you playing?" A pained look crossed Ginny's face briefly, but she managed to smile despite it. "Seeker," she answered. "I'm the Gryffindor Seeker." Harry nodded, smiling. "Are you any good?" he couldn't help asking. "Not too bad," Ginny answered, her smile growing wider. "You'll see, if you make the Slytherin team. What position are you going out for?" "I was thinking about Seeker myself." "But Malfoy is the Seeker for the Slytherin team. I can't imagine he would give that up without a fight." "He told me I was welcome to challenge him for the position. Before he said that, I had just been planning on going out for whatever was available. I've been told I'd make a fair Beater," Harry said, remembering the first time he'd ever seen a Bludger. "But if he's that cocky...." "You might as well take him down a peg or two?" Ginny finished for him. "Something like that," Harry agreed. "Someone needs to. But, even if you beat him, I doubt he'll give it up. Besides, he's pretty good. Almost as good as me," she said, then added, "especially when he cheats." "If I beat him, he'll just have to decide whether or not winning the Quidditch Cup is more important than showing off, won't he?" "Guess so," Ginny said. They had arrived at the Great Hall, and she turned towards him. "I'll see you at the first D.A. meeting, then?" "Yes. Thanks again, Ginny." "You're welcome, Evan. Oh, and good luck with tryouts!" She flashed him a warm smile, then walked over to the Gryffindor table, where Dean was waving at her. Harry took a seat at the end of the Slytherin table, facing them, and watched as Dean greeted Ginny with a smile. The two began chatting animatedly. Soon Ron and Hermione arrived and sat on the other side of the table from Dean and Ginny, sitting next to each other rather than across, as they used to do. Harry looked away and began filling his plate. He hoped he could finish eating before any of the rest of the sixth years from his own house arrived.
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