Harry Potter and the Secret Nurse

Chapter Twenty-Two
Humbling of Harry

Between sleep and awake, Harry\'s mind was swirling with thoughts not fully formed. The power of the talisman put Harry under right away, but before he landed in Otherworld his subconscious tossed abstract thoughts and feelings around with no coherent sense. Something repeated in Harry\'s mind, his hands held something that felt as familiar to him as his own broom. G-chord, D-chord, A-chord, E-chord -repeat- G-chord, D-chord, A-chord, E-chord. It was like he had been doing it forever.
Finally Harry landed in Otherworld. He raised his hands to look at them, and saw huge silly paws. He still couldn\'t go looking for his parents like this. If they were like the way they were before he was born, he should at least go looking for them in Gryffindor robes. Even if they didn\'t recognize him, he could still play with them, or just be with them as a fellow Gryffindor. That would be something. Harry sighed as he looked at his fur, his pointed ears and kitty whiskers bent down in depression.

\"What the hell is with this cat bit?\" he asked himself.

Like a goddess descending from the heavens, Hermione landed near him, smiling.

\"What took you?\" asked Harry.

Hermione smirked, put her hands on her hips, still smiling but looking as though she were trying to imitate one of her own expressions of disapproval.

\"You!\" Hermione blew at Harry, \"Remember the schedules? The reading lessons? All that work you dumped on me! And you have the nerve to- awww, hell, come here.\"

Hermione couldn\'t stay mad at Harry, he was too cute, especially with his ears down. She grabbed Harry\'s head and held him to her bosom like he was the most precious stuffed toy in the world. Then she overdid it by swinging back and forth while smothering Harry’s head against her bosom. She really liked the feeling of his fur against her bare skin. Hermione stopped, then held Harry out at arms length like his body had no mass at all, looking right into his cat eyes covered by his enlarged glasses, now askew.

\"Frisky?\" asked Hermione.

\"Can we just... cuddle? For a bit?\" asked Harry.

\"Sure!\" Hermione said cheerfully, \"Off you go!\"

Hermione flung Harry though the air, and he landed on a mattress and pillows inside a randomly chosen gazebo.

\"Stop doing that!\" said Harry.

As though she could defy gravity, Hermione leapt after Harry. He screamed as she nearly landed on top of him and bounced around, holding him with utter glee. Harry was certain this realm was quite mad, with no more sense to it than a dream. They just happened to be dreams he could share with others. It was a wonder to him the whole of seventh year students at Hogwarts wasn\'t here doing exams they forgot to study for while in the nude.
A party could be heard passing them by. People could be heard searching through the gazebos. A hand from a very short person was seen pulling the fabric opening aside and whoever it was complained they couldn’t see in. Then the head of a young charming woman with light brown hair peered in at them. She turned behind her and called out;

“They’re in here!”

The woman was carrying a bunch of liquor glasses and a bottle. She was dressed very similar to Hermione with loose casual slacks and a practical feminine blouse. Hermione had to look closely at her as other people who looked very familiar climbed into the tent.

Hermione looked to the woman and said, “Professor McGonagall?”

\"Oh please, Hermione, you\'re all grown up now,\" said Minerva as she poured a glass, \"Call me Minny. You’ll make me feel old calling me Professor.\"

Hermione took the liquor, completely chuffed by Professor McGonagall\'s behaviour, the rest of the people there were all headmasters of Gryffindor, minus Gully.

Hermione took a swig and asked, \"Where\'s Dumbledore?

The professors all looked around, smiling and said simultaneously, \"He\'s fishing!\"

\"Dumbledore fishes?\" asked Harry.

\"Oh yes, he\'s very serious about it,\" said Madame Hooch.

\"He\'s got his own schooner with nets and everything,\" said Flitwick, \"He goes way out into sea with it. Never seen him use a lick of magic while he\'s doing it, too. Says it spoils the experience.\"

Harry was very amused to see the Professors with their hair down like this, and gladly took a glass of liquor. He was not able to tell what type of brandy it was. Despite his summer binges Harry was a vastly inexperienced drinker. With a little swishing in her mouth Hermione was able to recognize it as one of the spirits she shared with her parents only on Christmas Eve and New Years.

“Irish Mist,” said Hermione.

“Oh, we have a connoisseur in our midst,” said McGonagall as she turned to everyone and laughed, “I’m surprised at you, Hermione!”

As the other professors laughed Hermione joined in and said, “It’s not much of a drinking liquor, it’s more of a special event kind of drink.”

“Well there’s none more special this right now,” said McGonagall as she topped up Hermione’s glass, “To have you two here, finally. Now we can all be together like a family.”

“I was hoping to meet up with my parents,” said Harry, as his cat ears drooped, “I keep wondering when do I get to see them.”

McGonagall saluted Harry with her glass and said, “You will Harry, when you’re ready, or when they’re ready, or whenever whatever needs to be ready is ready. It’ll just happen, Harry, don’t rush it. So drink up! And tell me..”

McGonagall almost slithered up to Harry with a disturbing suggestive look on her face and she crawled forward on the immense mattress. Harry went wide eyed and tried to retreat into Hermione’s lap as she held him. Just inches from Harry’s nose, realizing that despite being covered in fur he was still naked, McGonagall was close enough to intermingle her own breath with Harry’s.

“Harry,” said McGonagall as she looked into Harry’s eyes, “What the heck is with the cat bit?”

The laughter was still ringing in Harry’s ears when he woke up the next morning. He spent the whole night drinking and no hangover. There was however, some leftover pangs from what he guessed was his sampling of Slytherins’ potions. Tasting from a dozen different strength potions he figured should have left him bounding around without his wheelchair for days, instead of making him ill.
Harry had a big stretch, and then instantly caught himself. A lifetime of habit was hard to shrug off, no matter how painful a cramp it may cause. He rubbed his legs wondering if they would feel any better that day. They felt normal, and gave off no hint of cramp or seizing, but there was a threatening quiver that reacted to his morning stretch. Carefully Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and called over his chair. He did not like that it was getting too familiar a sight by his bedside.
Pushing off from the bed, Harry decided to try making his way to the chair. Obediently the chair waited for Harry. Two steps felt perfectly normal, and just as he felt maybe, just maybe he was finally cured his strength dropped off exponentially. He got off five steps until his chair caught him from behind. What strength there was left in his legs, Harry spent on just struggling to get dressed.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts class was huge. Harry could see, like the potions class, it mixed sixth and seventh years together. The room had all the desks moved to the far back and had ropes sectioning off parts here and there. There was what looked like a duelling track installed at the front of the class. It was obvious this class was going to have a lot more hands on training. Everyone was talking excitedly as to what to expect, as the last time they had hands on training in that class was way back when the false Moody taught it. And even he wasn\'t as fun as Professor Lupin\'s classes from way back in Harry\'s third year. That felt like an eternity ago now.
Wheeling around doing a head count of all the sixth and seventh years, Harry was again a little surprised to see Cho, and he didn\'t know why that bothered him all of a sudden. He told Hermione he wanted to speak to Cho again, for a minute, and promised to watch his language this time. It was odd to Harry that he could communicate with Cho a lot easier now, and started off with just a short \"hi\" before he pressed her.

\"Cho, are you studying to become and Auror?\" Harry asked delicately.

\"Oh yes,\" said Cho, \"Normally my marks wouldn\'t let me dream of becoming an Auror, but they\'re so desperate to recruit they let me in.\"

\"Are you sure this is what you want?\" asked Harry, knowing what it would lead to.

Cho was getting emotional again, and Harry\'s doubts about sending Cho into battle was all over her face. She wanted to become an Auror, but it may have been for all the wrong reasons. Even Cho was becoming self conscious about her doubts and shared with Harry she may be wasting her time.

\"Hey, with all the NEWTs you get you can get nearly any job you want,\" said Harry, \"Even I\'m not married to becoming an Auror.\"

\"You\'re not?\" asked Cho, not believing it.

\"Well, I might become an instructor,\" said Harry, \"A lot of people seem to think I\'m good at it.\"

\"There are plenty of career opportunities within the Ministry for Aurors,\" came a charismatic voice from above.

Professor Bardwell, dressed in full Auror regalia came down the descending stairs addressing the class as most were hypnotized about her. Either her stunning beauty, or her supremely confident demeanour she commanded a presence that without need of them knowing of her fame she instantly held them captivated.

\"We need instructors in the Auror Academy, Harry,\" said Bardwell, \"But they are required serve in the field for a few years before qualifying for a position. And those who work in the field, usually insist to remain there. Instructors, truly qualified ones, are hard to come by.\"

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she beckoned everyone to step a little closer so she could look them over.

\"Well, I\'m not going to berate you all like a drill sergeant in an American war film,\" said Bardwell, \"Carrying on like \'this is the sorriest buncha maggots I\'ve ever seen in my life, ya\'ll better drop and give me twenty\'.\"

A surprised round of laughter came from the class as everyone was greatly amused by Bardwell\'s gruff imitation of an American accent.

\"I will say, however, that this group of students, as compared to other years I\'ve seen at Hogwarts, is woefully unprepared for the inevitable war to come,\" said Bardwell.

Running her hand through her long, full, brunette hair, Bardwell paced back and forth along the class.

\"Through no fault of your own, your learning of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts has been somewhat... spotty,\" said Bardwell, \"Not surprising. For the past four years not a single one of your teachers have lasted more than a single term. Two were agents for Voldemort, one was a fraud, and of course Umbridge.\"

Bardwell stopped pacing, put her hands behind her back and faced the class with a serious expression on her face.

\"I know what some of you must think of the ministry, after Umbridge\'s interference,\" said Bardwell, \"That hatred is not unwarranted. I will stand here and say absolutely clearly that her presence here was to serve for no other means than to completely undermine your skills in defending yourselves against the dark arts, as some in the ministry regarded the students of Hogwarts as a potential threat.\"

The students murmured amongst themselves, Harry felt enormous gratification to hear this out loud.

Bardwell held her wedding ring and spoke introspectively, \"I assure you, you were not the only ones to suffer under a repressive reign from the ministry. There was a lot of unnecessary finger pointing and accusations going on all over, founded by Voldemort and the Death Eaters in order to undermine the ministry from within. Because of the heroic efforts of certain students here, that poison has been purged, and we can now train.

So many in the wizarding world who turned their backs on you, now turn to you to rescue them from the darkness, and their own ignorance. The unmitigated heroism I have seen repeatedly in students of this school shows me they are not worthy of your efforts. Yet you intend to do it anyway, I can think of nothing more noble.

The war, hopefully, may be over for most of you here before you are ready for the field and graduate from the Auror Academy. But for those of you who do go into battle, I promise you, you WILL be ready for it. The broken training that you have received up to this point is over. Now, we have focus, and it will remain until every person in this room graduates with nothing less than a truly deserved Outstanding in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Who’s ready to learn?\"

Bardwell waved her arms to work the crowd, telling them to go ahead and applaud. She was winding them up, and waved them to the front of the class, but held Harry back.

\"You\'ll have to sit this one out, Harry,\" said Bardwell, \"We\'re practicing duelling. You\'ll have to be on your feet for that.\"

\"I can duel!\" Harry defended, \"I can duel in this chair, you know I can.\"

\"It\'s not that, it gives you an unfair advantage,\" said Bardwell, \"You’re chair has highly advanced charms on it to protect you. You should train from the position you intend to take in the field. You don’t intend to remain in that chair for the rest of your life, do you?\"

\"Of course not, but-\"

\"I saw you take on a fire demon, Harry, you\'re a little ahead of the curve,\" said Bardwell, \"Give the others a chance to catch up, eh? Oh, and do me a favour, watch what I\'m doing VERY CLOSELY, got it?\"

Bardwell winked. It took a second but Harry understood. Bardwell was properly training people in how to take proper stances and positions. Harry studied them as closely as he would have to remember them for the DA classes. Whatever Bardwell taught here, Harry would practice later. He took out some parchment and quickly made sketches of Bardwell on how to stand when defending and attacking. He had become somewhat self conscious of his balance lately, and able to pick up on things the way Bardwell stood when casting her wand, things most people would miss. Some of it he remembered when his own Godfather was in battle at the ministry.

\"Always stand sideways to give your opponent the smallest possible target,\" said Bardwell, \"Lean your weight into the wand, almost like you intend to strike them with it. Knees bent so you\'re always ready to move quickly. Never rest all your weight on one leg, but keep an eye out for when your opponent does so you can trip them up or spot an opening to strike.\"

Cho noticed something and said, \"It\'s like martial arts!\"

Bardwell snapped her fingers and said, \"Exactly, magical martial arts for us. Do you study martial arts?\"

\"I\'ve studied Kung Fu since I was four,\" said Cho.

\"Excellent,\" said Bardwell, \"I know some of you may laugh at this, but several forms of muggle martial arts are very key in Auror training.\"

Neville jumped in, rubbing his black eye and said, \"It\'s not much of a joke to those of us who\'ve actually been in battle.\"

Bardwell smiled and winked at Neville to acknowledge him.

\"Several special Auror instructors will be visiting us this year to train you in Ju Jitzu, Kung Fu, and Karate,\" said Bardwell.

Cho was practically jumping up and down with excitement and clapping. This was something obviously in her field of experience. Other students didn\'t know how to react to this news.

Ron asked, \"What is muggle martial arts like?\"

\"Did you ever see a Jackie Chan or a Jet Li film?\" asked Bardwell.

\"No.\"

\"Good! Because it\'s nothing like that!\" said Bardwell as Cho laughed, \"We\'re going to set up some mats, and teach you how to tumble and how to properly take a fall without hurting yourself. Cho, can you help out?\"

Cho jumped in like a duck to water. No one ever asked her about her experience with martial arts and she was eager to share her knowledge. She stuck with seventh years who took off their robes and rolled around the mattresses trying to grasp the mechanics of tumbling. Bardwell was teaching the sixth years at a more tame pace, having them get in line and tumble one at a time. Harry felt himself a little sidelined as he watched Hermione roll up her sleeves and try tumbling across a mattress, landing flat out on her rump.

\"Tuck in, Hermione, like a cat!\" said Bardwell.

Like a cat, thought Hermione, as she figured Bardwell was dropping a hint. Hermione tried again, tucking under and rolled several times and used the momentum to kick herself upright on her feet. To her, the motion felt very natural, and didn\'t leave her feeling nearly as dizzy as she thought it should.

\"Excellent Hermione!\" said Bardwell who lowered her tone and said, \"You got a little spinach on your teeth, there.\"

Hermione put her finger to her teeth, and immediately felt a little fang hanging out. She brushed her lips and closed her mouth. After watching Cho for a while, Harry figured there was no point in taking notes. He did not have the expertise at all in how to teach martial arts, nor could he practice them himself later. Cho was the resident DA member who would be tutoring Kung Fu, that much was obvious to Harry. He wished he could at least get out of the chair and practice a little. He had taken so many falls learning how to walk again, he figured he could take a few pointers on how to land properly.

\"Right, now that\'s enough of that,\" said Bardwell, \"I want to go over the curriculum so you will know what to expect for the coming year. For the sixth years, what you see right now will be what is in store for you during the year, the seventh years, however, will be spending most of your year away from Hogwarts as your training will take place in the field. Whatever writing assignments you have will not be done in class, the whole year will be nothing but practical training. The basics like martial arts, we are hoping you will be able to catch up on during your practice lessons in the DA and other after class teachings. I assume that’s alright with the DA, Harry?\"

Harry was stunned a little and he shook his head as though to wake up and said, \"Uhh, if Cho wants to take over the responsibility of teaching martial arts at the DA, that\'s fine by me.\"

\"Excellent,\" said Bardwell, \"Don\'t be too concerned about getting good grades this year. Just concentrate on being really good at Defence Against the Dark Arts. If you really intend to come face to face with a Death Eater, just how prepared do you want to be? Concentrate on that and the good grades will just come, trust me. I must tell you, how well you do in this class will count a lot more than just academic skill. There are plenty of brainy bookworms who are clever as the dickens with spells I would not want to take into battle. We need people of action, who think well on their feet, and maybe are more suited for Quiddich than quills.\"

That suited many members of the DA just fine. Although some who did not witness Hermione’s rescue of the train may regard her as that brainy bookworm Bardwell was referring to, Harry and many others knew how Hermione stood up under extreme duress, and she was far more level headed and suited for battle than most. At the end of the class, Harry couldn\'t help but feel a little diminished, like people were passing him by. Defence Against the Dark Arts was taking on a whole new realm that had nothing to do with his particular talents, especially now that he was confined to a wheelchair. Harry waited for the class to file out the door before he was going to wheel out into the hall. Bardwell noticed his mood and went up to him.

\"Wall flower?\" asked Bardwell.

\"Pardon?\"

\"Feeling left out?\" said Bardwell.

\"Feeling kind of like the dog’s breakfast, actually,\" said Harry.

\"Hey, you showed leadership today, differing to Cho for the DA,\" said Bardwell.

\"How?\"

\"You delegated responsibility,\" said Bardwell, \"You showed no hesitance or shame that someone else had more experience than you in a certain field. A lesser leader would have tried to pretend they had some knowledge of martial arts.\"

\"I guess you could see it that way,\" said Harry.

Another way of seeing it was admitting in front of your peers you were completely useless, thought Harry. Bardwell bent down and held Harry\'s chin.

\"Hey, you promised us two graduates this year who can produce Patroni,\" said Bardwell, \"I expect you to deliver.\"

Harry couldn\'t help but be a little moved by Bardwell’s beauty being so close to him. She ruffled his hair and slapped him on the back, telling him not to be late for lunch as his girlfriend was waiting for him. Hermione was in the hall, looking in at Harry. Picking up he wheeled out into the hall, a little shamed. Harry was not the centre of attention anymore in the DA, and Hermione would know he was acting a little spoiled about it. She, however said nothing.
Transfiguration didn\'t go that much better for Harry. Despite the fact he had extra classes with McGonagall in his own home that summer, his skills only seemed to go as far as to barely keep up. He could do practical things like transform mundane objects into tools he might need, like hammers, nails, or knives. But more elaborate transfigurations like creating truly gorgeous chandeliers or elaborate statues out of blocks of wood just bogged Harry down with demands that seemed beyond his reach. It was a challenge just to get a block of wood just to look like a crystal chandelier at all, let alone one that would be fit to hang up in Windsor Palace.
Hermione, of course, was a natural. Her efforts earned a special place of display among a collection student transfigurations near McGonagall’s office. Harry figured if the DA demanded great skills in transfiguration (or anything else that didn\'t involve smashing another wizard over the head with whatever was at your disposal) he would have to \"differ\" that responsibility to Hermione. For a moment Harry wondered if Hermione\'s natural talent in transfiguration had something to do with her ability to transform back and forth at will from an anthrocat.
McGonagall was being a lot more patient than usual with Harry, but it was obvious their friendship was strained due to his lack of progress. He put so much into catching up at potions he lagged behind at transfigurations. There just wasn\'t enough time in the day to excel at everything, especially at NEWT level. McGonagall probably would have been proud of Harry if he put the same fervour into transfigurations as he did into Defence Against the Dark Arts, but the level of skill it mercilessly demanded just seemed so frustrating. Nothing came naturally in this art. Every little gain seemed to come from such hard work, which McGonagall mentioned was for the better. If wizards could just easily conjure up whatever came to mind, every witch or wizard would be able to transform dust mites into finished homework.
Despite working hard for most of the afternoon, Harry felt like at the end of the class he just wanted to apologize to professor McGonagall. He got close to her and opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t. He never got a chance to say anything, as other students who were always better practiced at transfigurations nattered around the professor. Several times Harry tried to speak up, but he just seemed oblivious to everyone as his head didn’t meet their conversational height while he was in the wheelchair, finally he just gave up and wheeled off.
Hermione stayed behind, enthusiastically talking over the new year curriculum with Professor McGonagall, talking to her like she had a brand new relationship with the professor. More like a friend, rather than just a motherly figure. McGonagall was open to the familiarity, but stopped short of letting Hermione call her “Minny”. That was for the other side, not this side, and Hermione instinctively knew the boundaries well. It was fascinating to be with her mentor in a whole new light.
Just as she began to talk, Hermione noticed Harry wheeling alone out of the class. She knew it was a bad sign when Harry wasn’t bothering to push the wheelchair himself and just sat low in his chair letting it guide the way. Instead of coming to his rescue, Hermione decided to give Harry some space. He just needed time to make a few adjustments in his own way.
In the afternoon sun, still a beautiful summer day as all of the week had been, Hermione later found Harry near Hagrid’s hut, transfiguring cut logs into chandeliers. Little ones. Harry had his laptop out and was using the pronunciation guide to work the spell as best he could. It was obvious he was putting great effort into it, and when he was done what he held definitely passed for a crystal chandelier of ornate design.

“That’s very nice, Harry,” said Hermione.

Hermione then stopped in her tracks, on the log pile there were several smashed chandeliers, half formed and looking badly non-symmetrical in shape. Still, Harry persevered like it was important to him.

“Rough day?” asked Hermione.

“You could say that,” said Harry as he held his last masterpiece, eyeing it like he was just looking for faults rather than admiring his skill.

“It’s very beautiful,” said Hermione a-matter-of-factly.

“Really?” asked Harry, not sounding convinced, “Would you hang it in McGonagall’s office?”

Hermione took the chandelier from Harry and said, “I would gladly hang this in my own home.”

Harry tapped the chandelier with his wand to light it, and glaring lights of red and green blinked on and off all around it.

“During Christmas time,” said Hermione, not skipping a beat.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione, and Hermione tried her best to hold back a snort but he wore her down and eventually she broke out laughing.

“It knew it! It’s rubbish!” called out Harry, “Give it here!”

Hermione begged no, and held the chandelier away from Harry. He gave chase and Hermione ran, holding the blinking crystals out of reach from Harry who just wanted to smash it onto the log pile with the rest. Finally Hermione stopped and held her hand out to stop Harry, pushing his wheelchair back.

“Harry! I want to keep it,” said Hermione.

“Are you serious? Hermione! It’s stupid! Give here and I’ll chuck it.”

“No Harry, I like it,” said Hermione as she put her arms around it to protect it.

“Why?”

“Because you made it,” said Hermione.

She stepped forward and ran her fingers through Harry’s hair. This was something Harry did not want to give into. He turned his wheelchair away and retreated from Hermione.

“Oh ho! Grumpy today? Are we?” asked Hermione.

And Hermione put down the crystals and gave chase. The chair could have easily outrun her, but for some reason wasn’t being very quick or cooperative at that moment. Harry did his best to push the wheels on the grass to outrun Hermione, but staying ahead of her was like a perilous chase from a basilisk. His robes threatened to get tangled in the turning wheels. Being in the open, Harry just didn’t stand a chance, and eventually Hermione body tackled him onto the grass, tipping the chair over. Aggressively she pushed him down next to his fallen wheelchair and kissed him firmly on the lips. When he called out for her to stop and came up for air, Hermione decided to turn up the heat and tickled him mercilessly, with both hands. Harry’s face was turning red before she stopped and asked;

“Are you in a better mood now?”

Harry needed a few seconds to catch his breath and said, “More.”

And Hermione tickled him again, then Harry reached out and turned Hermione over onto her back and kissed her hard on the lips. When he stopped he said;

“I am BLOODY hot in these robes.”

A quick jerk, Hermione made like she was going to knee him in the groin and made Harry jump a little.

“Oh no you do-“

“Here comes Ginny!” Hermione gleefully called out to the appointed executioner, “GINNY! WHACK HIS P-“

Harry pulled Hermione down and shut her up with a kiss. Ginny was struggling her robes off over her head as she was too hot in them as well.

“Harry! Can I try out your chair?” asked Ginny.

Harry gestured with his hand saying go right ahead. Ginny pulled the chair upright, hopped in the seat and ordered or it to take off. Into the sky it went, rocketing Ginny all around the towers of Hogwarts as she went “Weeeeee” all the way. Ron and Luna joined them, also holding each other on the grass as Ginny zipped all about. After being well out of view for while, Ginny landed the wheelchair near them and climbed off, looking like someone who just got off a roller coaster ride.

“You can get into trouble flying around the towers,” said Hermione, “You might be seen.”

“You might be tempted to fly up around there yourself if you saw what I just saw,” said Ginny, “I just came from Slytherin Tower.”

“Draco!” Ron called out as he sat up in the grass, “Did you see him? In the top of the tower?”

“Nope.”

“You mean he wasn’t there?” asked Harry, “So where-?”

Ginny cut Harry off and said, “I don’t know where he is now, but I know he’s not up there anymore.”

“He escaped!” said Ron.

Harry rubbed his chin and said, “I don’t think so. I think they let him out.”

Some music could be heard not far away after Harry spent a few moments in thought about Draco. Katie Bell was playing an acoustic guitar not far away. She had always been playing a guitar, but Harry never really paid particular notice to it until now for some reason. Drawn to it, Harry stood, called his chair over, and then went to Katie. Looking at her instrument Harry was strangely captivated by it. Katie noticed Harry staring at her guitar and stopped playing.

“Can I hold it for a moment?” asked Harry

Katie said sure, but before she handed it over, Harry felt it was important for him to stand for some reason. It seemed unnatural to hold onto it while sitting down. When he took it, there was something instantly familiar, something disturbing. He strung it, and when he went through six strings it didn’t feel familiar anymore to him. Hermione came up from behind a little worried Harry might lose his balance.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione.

“I don’t know,” said Harry, “Did you ever perform a charm on me to play a guitar? Remember? When we were in Flitwick’s class?”

“Oh yeah, first year,” said Hermione, “I had Ron doing a trombone, and you were doing a big bass. Why?”

“No guitar?” asked Harry, “I don’t know, for some reason this just seemed so familiar to me.”

Hermione said a bass is a stringed instrument, Harry just shrugged and handed the guitar back to Katie. She said if Harry was interested in learning to play she would be willing to share her knowledge with him, mentioning chromatic scales and how to play rifts. For some reason, Harry knew these words well and figured he must have just remembered them from watching his favourite bands do interviews on TV or the wizarding wireless. The rest of the afternoon they sat on the grass, listening to Katie play and enjoying it, the whole time, Harry always felt strangely drawn to it and admired Katie Bell’s skill. He wished Hogwarts had spent at least some time teaching students the arts outside of muggle studies. He was certain he didn’t have any natural musical ability at all like Katie Bell.