Harry Potter and the Lost Half-Bloods. *1*

Harry

Seamus Finnigan throws a tantrum

SATURDAY

HARRY: Classes went by quickly this week. Somehow with all of the researching Nico and I were doing, I still managed to stay on top of my school work.

Ever since Hermione and I's encounter in the halls, she's been avoiding me. Ron tried endlessly to try and bring me back to them, but I pushed them away. I didn't want them to get involved in this.

As for Nico and I's work, we hadn't made much progress since Monday night. We survived the school week without any visions from the two of us. Nico was doing particularly well at his job of stalking Will. Nico had concluded that his healer suspicions were correct. Besides that, we hadn't gotten any more information out of him.

It was hard for us to get information on Jason. I had no classes with him. Also, hardly attended lunch or dinner this week. All I had gotten from observing him was that his expression was gaunt, and he looked at the world around him like he wanted to get revenge on it.

Nico and I met up every morning and every night before curfew. We usually exchanged information and went over our plans. Since we had a lack of new information, we started exchanging stories about things that had happened in classes and complaining about teachers. At some point during the week, we had both decided to trust each other, and we actually because of pretty good friends.

"We need to figure out who these other people are. I'm going to start watching the people Will hangs around with. You need to get some information on Jason this week." Nico urged. He had been rather tense today.

"I know, I've been trying. But I think you need to detach yourself from Will. Don't you think we have enough information on him?" I suggested.

Nico glared at me.

"At least I'm getting information, Harry."

"Touché."

Nico exhaled sharply, which I think was a slight chuckle for him.

"Good luck at your tryouts today." Nico left.

Tryouts. How could I have forgotten about Quidditch tryouts? I hadn't even been on my broom since the tournament task last year. I hoped I could still fly decently.

I went down to the common room where all of the previous members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were chatting about around the fire. The room was buzzing with excitement for tryouts.

"Harry!" The Weasley twins greeted me.

"Excited about tryouts?" George asked. Fred ruffled my hair, as he often did to Ron's.

"Not gonna have any injuries this year now, are we? No more broken arms, or falling off of your broom?" Fred teased.

"Not planning on it. As long as you two do your job, I'm hoping I won't get a bludger in the head at least."

Fred and George smirked at one another.

"We'll try our best." They chorused.

There he was, right in the corner of the room. Jason Grace. His nose was buried in a daily prophet article. I saw my picture on the front cover.

"Excuse me." I don't know what came over time, but I walked right up to Jason Grace. "May I see that?"

His face reddened. He handed me the article.

"What really happened at the tournament?"

Of course, we all know Harry Potter's false accusations of the Triwizard tournament happenings have caused a lot of issues and unnecessary stress occurring in the wizarding world. Citizens are alarmed about You-Know-Who, thinking there is a possibility he was back. What really happened, one may ask?

"Harry Potter is mental," a student at Hogwarts and fellow classmate who wished to remain unnamed told the prophet. "He's stood up for people who have caused danger to this school in the past, such as our school's threatening gatekeeper. He has befriended those who are a shame to wizarding culture. Worst of all, he causes a panic at the school every year. Students need to be focusing on examinations, not false threats to the school. He craves attention, and will come up with whatever lies it takes to keep that attention."

I handed the article back to Jason. I hadn't realized how quickly the room had closed to silence. All eyes were on me.

"You don't honestly believe this garbage, do you?" I mumbled.

"Garbage." Seamus was the first to speak up. I hadn't even gotten a chance to say hi to him yet this week, which was strange. I considered Dean and Seamus good friends. Both of them to avoiding me was rather odd. "The only thing that's garbage is every word out of your mouth."

Though the room was still dead silent, cold tension filled the air. Tension so thick I could feel it with every breath. The tension was deafening.

"Seamus, just let it go--" Dean insisted. Seamus pushed Dean away.

"No, I'm not going to just let it go. We've all been letting it go from the second Harry Potter set foot in this school. It's rubbish, all of it! We used to push it away because we felt bad for him. Now, I'm done. I can think on my own, and what I think is that Harry is an attention-craving little--"

"Really, it's great to see you too Seamus," I replied. "Go on, everyone else who thinks I'm some pathological liar, feel free to speak up."

Fred and George both glared Seamus. I shook my head at them, it wasn't worth it. They didn't need to stand up for me.

"I don't think Harry here is the one who's mental, Finnigan." George sneered. The twins both pushed past him and stood by my side. We walked out to the Quidditch field together, ignoring all of the eyes that followed us.