Nobody ever asked my birthday

Chapter 307

After dinner, Harry wound up in Prof. McGonagall's office. It was strange, even though she was his head of house, he spent so much less time here than in Snape's office. Had always done so, in fact, mostly unwillingly.

"Well, Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall asked, "Did you have something to ask me?"

"Not really," Harry said gently, "I just don't have time for Quiddich this year." He placed the Captain's Badge on her desk, and tried to look appropriately sad or chagrined.

"You'll hold tryouts tommorrow." McGonagall said, "Anyone worth their salt has been training already, so it's not like the short notice will actually harm anything. Pick a captain while you're at it." Her tone was brusque, but not unkind. She smiled at him, taking years off her face, "You didn't think I'd let you off the hook without doing some work, surely?"

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, turning around and walking out, already busy thinking about the team. Harry supposed that one day spent thinking of sports wasn't a bad thing.

Hermione seemed to think so, however. All she wanted to talk about was wandless casting, and she'd dragged Harry out of the common room to do it. Luckily, Harry'd already posted the tryouts notice, or he'd have had no players at all tomorrow (Gryffindors were notoriously late risers, and he'd planned the tryouts before breakfast, that way the Quiddich Field would be empty).

With the door shut and some privacy spells cast, Hermione started going on and on about what she was learning from Professor Snape - and yes, Harry really knew he should be listening (particularly since Snape'd been teaching her some control over her emotions, in regards to casting...), but it was Hermione and she got technical at the best of times...

About a half hour into her deliriously happy lecture, Harry had an idea. He looked over at Hermione with a grin, and said, "He kissed me too, you know." Harry tried his hardest to blush - and unlike his ability to lie, he managed a decent ruddy flush to his cheeks.

All the wheels in Hermione's head seemed to grind to a halt, and then Harry had the pleasure of looking at her, as her face morphed between surprise, interest, disgust - she clearly couldn't make up her mind what to say. This lasted for about twenty seconds.

Finally, Harry just started laughing. Hermione started laughing too, for who knows what reason.

"Relax, I don't like him like that," Harry said, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling, "Was a pretty good kiss, though." Harry projected as much innocence as he possibly could, as he looked at Hermione, "Also, I can apparently blush on command. Who knew?"

Hermione's sparkling laughter echoed through the classroom.

Harry stood on the top of the North Tower (the Astronomy Tower had been crawling with people - and worse, some of the couples had looked like they'd wanted his participation...). He wasn't sure, really, why he had let himself be upset with Remus Lupin. The man had condoned his friends bullying Snape, and he'd known it was wrong. Sirius (and, Harry presumed, his father) hadn't had a shred of remorse. Snape's eyes held rage and anger when looking at Sirius, always had. But Lupin? Snape despised Lupin, and that was a different matter entirely.

So, why had Harry ever dared to think that Lupin might have told him about Lily's Slytherin friend?

Maybe it was that Lupin was the nice one, the one who actually saw what they'd done was wrong.

It wasn't like Harry'd actually needed to know her friend's name. They could have just said, "He died during the war," and left it like that. He might as well have, too. Harry thought, seething. Surely his mom wouldn't have been friends with Snape-as-he-is-now, right? It was hard to think of Snape as having any friends, including Mister Malfoy, whom Snape himself had referred to as a friend.

Harry let the feelings go, He knew now. He did, and that was a form of power in of itself.

Now if only I can stop being so muddle-headed all the time.

[a/n: Just because he's bad at lying, doesn't mean Harry's not good at other bits of dissembling. This one wasn't one he'd tried before.

Last Chapter was totally Neville's fault. This is what happens when Harry thinks Neville's had a good idea.

And we're done with Sunday. Monday'll be ... fairly normal. Wait till tuesday!

And do leave a review!]