What?" Harry asked, but Millicent just shrugged. "What . . . Do you mean, why would anyone want to kill me? I dunno."
"Are you kidding me?" Teddy asked. "There's plenty of people who are probably hostile about your return to the Wizarding World, now, after what you did to You Know Who."
"Which I don't even remember, being I was only a year old. And he tried to kill me first."
"Hell, I know that. And there's not like to be anyone stupid enough in Slytherin to try to take you down, at least not at school. Their families would suffer, for one thing. Even Malfoy's not that dim."
"He doesn't like me, though."
"Yeah, well . . . he might've found out you made the Quidditch team, without even trying out for it." Teddy gave Millicent a pointed look.
The large girl flushed. "I didn't know it was supposed to be a secret! I thought it was great that one of us Firsties had made the team. No one as young as you has made it in a hundred years. I heard Snape had to get the rules bent for you, and everything." Harry frowned, not liking the idea of Snape doing that for him, and she sighed. "And Malfoy was being a jerk. Again. And going on about how he was guaranteed a spot, likely as Seeker, and so I told him off." She grimaced and hitched up one shoulder. "Sorry, Harry. He might have got a bit annoyed by the news."
Harry made himself smile. "Hey, it's okay, Millie, really. He was going to find out sooner or later anyway, right?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"So, it was a bit sooner. Maybe he'll even make the team anyway. We still need another Chaser, from what Flint said." Harry was almost hoping he would; it would take some of the pressure off him, for one thing.
"Oh, hey! Did you know your dad played Quidditch?"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I saw a plaque in the trophy room. He played for Gryffindor, obviously, but I guess he was pretty good. They won a lot, then."
"You'll have to show me." Harry's interest was piqued; he knew so little about his parents that any tidbit of information was worth its weight in galleons. He licked his lips nervously, but made himself ask, "Was there a picture?"
Millie shook her head. "There's a couple team pictures from back that far, but not one with your father in it."
Harry swallowed his disappointment, but it felt like ground glass going down. The Dursleys had been so close mouthed about Lily and James Potter while he was growing up, except when they were telling him lies, like about how they'd died, that he knew next to nothing about them. He didn't even have any idea what they looked like, as the only photos in the Dursley home had been of his aunt and uncle and Dudley, so a picture of even just his father would have eased some of that empty ache he always carried with him. "Oh, well," he said lightly. "It'd be great to see the plaque and stuff anyway."
"Yeah, soon as you're up and around, I'll show you."
"Thanks, Millie." Harry rubbed a hand over his face, feeling suddenly exhausted, so of course Madam Pomfrey had to arrive at that moment and shoo his friends away.
"You can come back briefly, after dinner," she told them when Millicent asked. "But he needs rest more than anything."
"All right. Seeya, Harry," Millie said and waved as they headed for the door.
"Seeya. Thanks for coming by."
Teddy smirked. "See that you quit your whinging, and maybe I'll bring you a nice treat from dinner."
"Well, okay. Just 'cause you asked so nicely. Prat."
The two of them laughed and Harry closed his eyes when they were gone, thinking about what they'd said, about Peeves, and the Bloody Baron, and even Draco. Was the boy's hostility as simple as that Draco was jealous, or was it more sinister?
According to Snape, it was highly unlikely that any student could have Obliviated him – and the idea that someone had wiped his memories was enough to break him out in goosebumps again, just thinking about it – which left the teachers and staff. But who among them would do such a thing, and why? Was someone trying to get back at him for defeating Voldemort?
And why would they erase his memories and just not make sure to kill him completely?
After a while of his thoughts turning in circles, bringing him no closer to any answers, Harry pulled his book bag over and started working on his Potions essay, figuring the least he could do was try his best to stay out of Snape's bad graces. Not sure how successful he'd be after the nasty way Snape had treated him in class, he still had to try.
TBC . . .
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