𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟔 - 𝟑

I was sitting in the common room with Hermione and Ginny, all of us talking about whatever came to mind. It was a lazy sort of evening, everyone was waiting around for dinner, and we had absolutely nothing to do. Well, I'm sure there was some homework I was forgetting about, but I didn't exactly try hard to remember.

Ginny was just telling us how her relationship with Thomas was going when Potter came through the portrait hole looking shell shocked and a little pale. 

"Oh, what's wrong with him now," I muttered. Potter saw me and walked over. Weasley left the twins and followed.

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"You know I had a meeting with Dumbledore?" Potter said, sitting down cautiously. We nodded. "He showed me a memory in his Pensive of Tom Riddle. Like, really Tom Riddle before he became Voldemort."

"Wait, what's a Pensive?" Weasley asked.

"It shows you fun memories of Death Eater trials while you're trying to peacefully eat Licorice Snaps," I answered. 

Potter glared at me. "Hey, I didn't know they actually bit you. I can never tell when Dumbledore's joking."

"A Pensive is a basin you can replay memories in," Hermione sighed. 

"Right," Potter agreed. "Anyways, he showed me Voldemort—or I guess Tom—when Dumbledore visited him in the orphanage. He was a little... scary for an eleven year old."

"You would assume," I pointed out. "Continue."

"Apparently there were a bunch of incidents concerning him and other children's dead hamsters," Potter carried on. "He said right to Dumbledore that snakes spoke to him and everything. It was creepy. Then when we left the memory, Dumbledore told me that the real reason he hired Slughorn was because he had something Dumbledore wanted. And I need to get it from him."

There was a moment of silence. Then Weasley broke it by saying, "That's weird mate."

I could see how deep in thought Hermione was in her eyes. "Did he tell you what Slughorn has?" She finally asked. "It must be something hard to get if Dumbledore can't manage it himself."

"I think it's another memory," Potter decided. "Dumbledore told me Slughorn wouldn't give it up easily, and I was the only one who could convince him."

"Reassuring," I commented.

"Very," Potter agreed.

It was the day of the Quidditch tryouts, and Hermione and I watched from the stands in amusement as Potter, the newly appointed captain of the Gryffindor team, tried to get the students who were talking and pushing each other around to listen to him. Weasley was the only one obediently standing silently in front of everyone. The sight was laughable. Only when Ginny yelled, "Shut it!" over the entire field did the crowd stop messing around and pay attention.

Potter said a few words, probably a speech he had been working on since he joined the team in first year, and everyone separated into groups for which position they would be competing for. 

It was freezing, and I was attempting to curl myself, head and all, into my sweater when I saw Cormac McLaggen, the one who had been eyeing Hermione in the twin's shop, walk up to Weasley and bump his shoulder. They had a short conversation, and it was one that Weasley didn't look very pleased with.

Eventually, after the Beaters and Chasers had both gone, Weasley and McLaggen each took an end of the field to guard. Whoever blocked the most goals got the coveted position of Keeper. I watched Weasley's face pale as McLaggen's permanently smug smile grew. The small crowd spread around the stands cheered.