Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Professor Monroe	By : Athey1024 Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 15724 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 25
Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Harry arrived to dinner several minutes later and had to spend a few minutes dodging questions from Ron and Hermione and a few others as to where he'd been all afternoon. He still felt a bit off balance and found it hard to get enthusiastic about the discussions going on around him. Maximilian had told him it would be expected for him to feel a bit detached from his emotions right now because they were still all sort of 'put away'. They'd done a little unpacking, but Maximilian had explained that the sorting process was usually a very personal one since Harry would be reliving some of his memories and it would not likely be easy.

He'd gone over a lot of instruction on what Harry needed to do tonight and during the coming nights. He'd even gone so far as to tell Harry that if he encountered any problems that he could come to his quarters at night, and that he'd make sure he was there for the next week. His quarters, it turned out, were attached to his office, through a door hidden behind one of the many bookcases. Harry had felt like he should be a bit disconcerted or worried about what he was facing, especially considering Maximilian's offer to help if things got 'really bad', yet he didn't feel all that worried at all... he supposed that was part of the whole 'detachment' thing.

Maximilian had also told him that his mind would likely be clearer and more logical while he was like this, but even after he'd sorted things and 'reconnected' with his emotions, he would find his mind a lot clearer. His memory would also be improved, and Harry found nothing wrong with that, at all.

As Harry and his dorm mates were leaving the Great Hall sometime later, they had a brief run in with Draco Malfoy and his 'gang'. It wasn't all that much of a run-in really – Goyle brushed roughly past Ron, knocking him into Seamus and almost tripping Neville – which got a laugh from Malfoy and the rest of them. Ron shot off at them angrily, which resulted in Malfoy sending a few taunts at Ron about how Slytherin was looking forward to an easy win this coming Friday.

Harry just stood back from the whole thing, watching with a strange detached curiosity. Not at the scene before him, but at his own lack of reaction to it. It was a very peculiar sensation to witness Malfoy being an arse, and not feeling righteously indignant and furious over the whole thing.

He frowned at his own behavior but couldn't find it in himself to be overly upset. He shook his head, feeling weirdly off-balance, only refocusing on the present when he realized that Malfoy and his gang were striding away, still laughing, and Ron was grumbling angrily after them. The group finally made their own journey up to their common room and Harry wasted little time in getting to the homework he'd put off earlier.

It was remarkably easy to focus, and by the end of the night, he'd gotten nearly a whole weeks worth of assignments finished or prepped for. Hermione was quite impressed with his dedication and success, smiling at him. Ron, in contrast, hadn't gotten much of anything done, as he'd been far too worried about the upcoming Quidditch match to think about anything else.

Harry felt as if he should say or do something to help reassure his friend, and yet he couldn't think of anything to do or say, and so instead, he just bid Ron goodnight and headed to bed. After his night-time routine was complete, Harry found himself sitting cross-legged in the center of his bed with the hangings drawn and a small-area quieting spell since Maximilian had said there was the potential for making noise while he 'dreamed'.

With his mind as clear as it was, it was surprisingly simple to follow Maximilian's instructions from earlier for how to re-enter his mindscape, and from there it was merely a matter of starting the 'unpacking' process.

–

Harry jerked bolt upright in bed with a strangled gasp, almost instantly followed by a pitiful whine. He curled up into a ball, pulling his knees taught to his chest and burring his face in his arms as they wrapped around his legs. He found himself rocking back and forth, breathing heavily and trying to calm his racing heart. He was damp with sweat and his hair was stuck to his forehead and his eyes stung with both sweat and tears.

His mind was a whirl and he felt as if he couldn't get the storm of thoughts and emotions there to calm into an orderly fashion. It was such a stark contrast to the state his mind had been in, mere hours earlier, and it was possible that the contrast had added to his difficulties, but he was in no position to really see that at the moment.

He pulled his head back and blinked into the darkness. He was suddenly overcome with the most awful sense of claustrophobia. It was so dark within the heavy hangings of his bed that he couldn't see anything, and his mind instantly substituted his comfortable, safe, four-poster bed in Hogwarts with the dank, dusty, spider-infested cupboard that was so freshly imprinted upon his mind. He felt like a very small child all over again; filled with fear, confusion, and the deep seeded knowledge that he was not wanted. He was something dirty to be hidden away – locked away – somewhere dark and dusty and smelling of urine and filth where no decent person would ever live. But he wasn't decent. He was a freak. He deserved it.

The image of his cupboard filled his mind so vividly that he could even smell the awful stench surrounding him. The dust mixed in with mold and blood and his own urine from the times he'd been locked in and had no choice but to pee in the small bucket he'd scavenged and hid in the corner. Then suddenly and without warning, he started brushing at his arms and body frantically; irrationally convinced that there were spiders on him and wanting them off – needing them gone. He needed out. He couldn't be in this little space. He needed out!

Harry practically rolled out of his bed and onto the floor beside it as he frantically pushed the hangings off his head, swatting at them in irrational horror and struggling with the sheets and blankets twisted around his feet. As soon as he was free, he was scooting along the floor in a panic until his back hit against his trunk.

There was more light now that he was out from behind the hangings, and he could make out his dorm room in the dim moonlight coming in through the windows. His heart was racing so hard in his chest he could practically feel it pounding against his ribcage. His breath was coming in panicked shallow pants and he was still overcome with the urge to brush at his arms and his head every few seconds as some new phantom arachnid skittered over his flesh in his mind's eye.

Enough of his senses returned to him with the familiar sight of his dorm room for Harry to know that he didn't want to wake any of his dorm mates. How could he possibly explain to them what was going on? The last thing he wanted was for any of them to see him in the middle of some crazed panic attack. He was just grateful that his programming as a child to keep quiet above all else, had been in play, preventing him from calling out as he woke up in such a state. Despite his desperate desire for the other boys in his room to not know, some other part of him – the freshly unearthed scared little boy – was desperate for someone to be there with him. To hold him and protect him and assure him that he was safe and it was just a bad dream. Bad memories. That thing he had always desperately wished for as a child, but never received.

His mind didn't even consider waking Ron – that would be far too awkward anyway, and it really wouldn't accomplish what Harry wanted or needed anyway. No, his mind went right to Maximilian and he instantly remembered the man's promise to be in his office or rooms all night, and the open invitation for Harry to join him should he need it.

Without even a moment's hesitation, Harry twisted around, flipped the lid up on his trunk and dug around inside it, searching for the familiar silky fabric of his father's invisibility cloak. His fingers found it after only a half a minute of questing for it. He pulled it out and let the lid fall quietly closed on his trunk. He slipped on a pair of trainers, grabbed a robe from the floor beside his bed and then tossed the invisibility cloak over his head and shoulders. After making sure he had his wand as well, Harry left the room as quietly as he could.

He didn't encounter anyone in the common room, which wasn't surprising as late as it was, and the fat lady only made a small token protest as he opened her portrait and slipped out and towards the stairs. He cursed his lack of foresight when he had to duck into an alcove when he heard Filch muttering in the distance. He should have grabbed the map as well, but the entrance to Gryffindor tower was on the 7^th floor and Maximilian's office was on the 6^th, so he hadn't thought it would be a problem. Really, he just hadn't thought much at all. He was mostly working on instinct and adrenaline at the moment.

Finally, he was sure the coast was clear and he quickly traversed the remaining distance to the elder wizard's office. Just as he was approaching the door, it opened and Maximilian stepped out, looking down the hall with a concerned expression marring his perfect features. His head turned and their eyes met. Even though Harry was invisible at the moment, he was still entirely convinced that Maximilian could see him and he was instantly rushing forward. His arms went out and wrapped around the other man as he practically crashed into him. Despite seeming to know Harry was coming, the man still made something of an 'umfph!' grunt as Harry impacted, but didn't waste another moment before wrapping his arms around Harry in return and guiding him back into the room.

The second Harry had wrapped his arms around Maximilian, his turbulent emotions fizzled away into a background hum, and instead he was filled with warmth and the calm reassuring presence of the other man. His nerves were alight with that wonderful pleasant tingling, but the delicate state he'd been in mere moments earlier seemed to have muted the normally intense sexual side to their direct contact. Instead Harry just felt protected and safe and exhausted. He didn't feel scared anymore. He had that thing he was wanting – that thing he'd always wanted but always been denied.

“Shhh... it's okay, it's okay,” Maximilian was saying in a soft, reassuring voice as he managed to move his hands around the invisible figure in his arms enough to find the hood and remove it from Harry's head. Harry's face was buried in Maximilian's shoulder and he was shaking with the force of his relief. “I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't realize it would be so bad for you. I should have insisted that you stay here from the start,” he went on, sounding legitimately concerned.

“I should have known, of course... you feel things with such intensity. I knew that. I should have known –“

“Can you just hold me?” Harry whispered into the man's shoulder and Maximilian sighed.

“Of course. But we need to finish this, Harry. The only way to get past these feelings is to keep moving forward with the meditation. You can't remain where you stopped and function normally.

“I can't,” Harry whimpered, shaking his head. “I can't go back in there.”

“I'll be with you this time,” Maximilian said with a firm, determined, tone. “I'll go into your mindscape with you and hold you while you complete the initial viewing. We'll get through the worst of it together. Think you can do that?”

Harry whimpered, honestly not sure, but he also knew that Maximilian wouldn't be insisting on this if it wasn't important. And if Maximilian was there with him, he wouldn't be so scared. He'd know it wasn't real anymore. That they were just memories. They couldn't hurt him anymore if he didn't let them.

Mutely, Harry nodded his head and quickly found himself being guided further into the room. Maximilian waved his hand and one of the bookcases swiveled open as if it were on a hinge, revealing a door behind it which opened inward. He guided Harry through it and it closed behind them. On the other side was apparently the professor's quarters. It was fairly simple – similar to what one would expect from a one bedroom flat. A large sitting room with an attached small kitchen area separated by a small low counter. The sitting room was simply furnished with the sort of furniture you'd find in the dorms; squashy armchairs, sofas, and tables done in dark old woods. The colors were mostly based around a desaturated blueish color with details in silver threads and accents.

Harry's mind lingered aimlessly on the room as he was guided to a sofa, placed into the corner facing inward while Maximilian mirrored his position and placed several pillows around Harry to prop him up.

“I'm going to enter your mind and pull you into your mindscape. Alright?” Maximilian was asking him when Harry's mind snapped back to the present.

“Huh?”

“We need to keep working on this, Harry,” Maximilian said gently but firmly. “This has had a dramatic effect on your psyche and need to deal with it quickly and press onward. The only way to do that is to return to your mindscape and keep working. I want to try and get as far as possible before morning so that you can function again. Can you try, for me, Harry?”

Harry swallowed hollowly but nodded his head.

“Good,” Maximilian said with a warm, reassuring smile. He pulled out his wand and before Harry could even feel his nerves swelling up in him, his professor was muttering the spell 'Legilimens' and Harry felt the man's presence and the inward tug to enter his own mind.

– – –

Harry woke to warm sunlight on his face and an even warmer body beneath and beside him. He felt... calm. Peaceful. He let his eyes, which had only barely opened a crack, fall back closed and buried his face further into his warm, steadily moving pillow. The thwump, thwump, thwump, sound of a steadily beating heart was soothing to his system for several moments before the sheer unusual nature of it seemed to click in his mind and his eyes flew open.

His pillow, it turned out, was Maximilian's chest, which part of his mind had already worked out, while the rest of it came to a stuttering halt in shock as it finally caught up to speed. A gentle chuckle drew his gaze upward and he found the elder wizard smiling down at him fondly. An arm beneath his side shifted and a moment later Harry felt the other man's hand carding its way through his hair. Harry's eyes fell back shut and he hummed in pleasure at the gentle thrumming tingle that intensified only slightly at this new contact.

His whole body felt like a puddle of warm pudding, now that he thought about it. Although that was probably a weird thing to feel like, his mind rationalized a moment later. But he did feel quite brilliant. Last night's misery was a quickly fading memory now that the events that had caused him such turmoil were neatly packed away and sorted in his mind. He didn't feel so weirdly detached from his feelings, as he had the evening prior, but he didn't feel haunted by them either.

“You'll need to leave soon,” Maximilian's soft voice broke the silence a moment later. “Your room mates are no doubt waking up and wondering where you are. You can't be missing for breakfast.”

Harry's face fell slightly at the reminder that the rest of the world still existed and he couldn't simply hide out here in the other man's arms forever, like a very big part of him wanted. Maximilian had taken wonderful care of him last night. They'd spent almost the whole time in Harry's mind, although the time spent there felt weirdly real, as if his mental library were a real place and any touch, scent, or sight experienced there was just as real as anywhere else.

Unfortunately it also meant that any memories relived there also felt quite real. And time seemed to move so strangely there. He could relive a lengthy memory in the blink of an eye and yet also feel as if he'd relived the entire thing, minute for minute. But when the memory was over, another part of him felt like it had only been the briefest of moments. It was very confusing and left him feeling disoriented for most of the night. Maximilian had made things a lot easier though, and put things into perspective, keeping Harry centered and focused on finishing the task.

That night they'd gotten through most of Harry's childhood and up to his early introduction to Hogwarts, which Maximilian said was probably enough for now and Harry could do the rest at his leisure. There were bits of his mind that were still a disorganized mess, while other parts were shockingly tidy – Harry felt Maximilian's influence strongly here, but he was grateful for it too.

Maximilian had also helped guide him towards creating various groupings of memories – things that were safe, common every-day mindless mental chatter, thoughts and memories, that Harry could bring out quickly, should he ever feel an intrusion. As well as groupings of things that Harry was so embarrassed, mortified, and horrified by that he didn't want anyone else to ever see them – ever – and could keep they hidden and safe from any intrusion.

It had been hard to let Maximilian see those memories. Harry had fought several times, insisting that he do it later, or when he was alone. Maximilian had, of course, pointed out that those were the memories that Harry would be in the most need of some comfort and company and Harry would never deal with them, if he just kept putting it off. Maximilian had said that suppressing such memories would only cause him grief in the end, and seemed to insinuate that he knew from personal experience that simply burying and locking up such memories and emotions, rather than facing them and acknowledging them as a part of what made him who he is, would do far more harm than good. Harry had wanted to inquire further – always hungry for details about Maximilian, but it didn't seem appropriate, nor did they seem to have the time to spare, so Harry had relented.

When they were done going over the worst of Harry's memories, Harry had felt lighter than he'd felt in years. Maximilian, in contrast, looked to be a tightly sealed pressure cooker, on the brink of explosion. Harry had been considerably wary upon picking up on the elder wizard's tightly bound fury. The man was trying to control his features, and doing an admirable job of hiding just how angry he was, but Harry could feel the other man's emotions to some extent, and it was shocking how tremendous the strength of the man's fury was on Harry's behalf.

Harry had hesitantly asked if he'd done something wrong, which had seemed to snap Maximilian out of some of his ire, and the man had quickly suppressed some of the intensity. He assured Harry that he had done nothing wrong and that he was not angry with him at all, but rather, he was furious with the disgusting maggots that had the audacity to treat a wizarding child in such a way, and with Dumbledore who had placed Harry there and left him to their disgusting whims without so much as checking on him.

Harry had turned grim and nodded silently before brushing the whole thing behind him and moving onto a less violent and miserable set of memories.

One thing that Harry had enjoyed from their adventures in digging through his ancient mental history were a few glorious snippets of memories of his parents. They were blurry around the edges and nothing that anyone said really stood out as clear, but he could remember their faces; smiling down at him; laughing with him. Snippets here and there. Not much, but they were more than he'd ever really had before, and he found himself treasuring them greatly. He liked the idea that he could relive them whenever he wanted by just entering his mindscape. It was so much more intense and accurate than just remembering the scene from the 'outside'.

It was really like having a pensieve in his own mind.

Maximilian had been very quire during those memories; seeming to sink into the background. Harry figured that the elder wizard just wanted to give him space to bask in the limited connection Harry had with his now-dead parents.

Harry couldn't quite pinpoint at what point the previous night he'd actually 'fallen asleep'. He'd sort of been asleep the whole time, depending on how you looked at it. He felt physically rested, now that it was morning, but his mind was still rather exhausted.

Maximilian finally maneuvered Harry off his chest and the two stood and stretched their stiff bodies after spending the night sleeping awkwardly on a couch. Harry felt somewhat bereft to suddenly lose the physical contact with the other man, and yet some other part of him could almost still feel the other man in his head. Like there was some little piece of him left behind like an imprint of the man's presence. Or something. Harry really wasn't sure what to make of the sensation, if he were honest.

Maximilian made his way into his bedroom and Harry hesitated, unsure if he should follow or not. He walked awkwardly to the open door but couldn't quite permit himself any further than that. He was greeted with the lovely sight of Maximilian's bare back and backside as the man was bending over and pulling on a pair of fresh trousers. Harry felt himself flush as a wave of desire swept through him. It took quite a bit of self control, but mostly just a hefty sum of insecurity and hesitation, that kept him from walking forward and grabbing the man.

Despite their two rather heated snogging sessions, Harry felt entirely unsure of exactly what he was allowed to do with the other man, and he certainly didn't feel like he could initiate anything. The two previous times Harry felt more like he'd been a bit out of his head – sort of drunk, he supposed – so his inhibitions had dropped down to nothing. Without that, he simply didn't have the guts to act on his teenaged body's desires.

Maximilian took the temptation away quickly as he finished pulling up his trousers and slipped on a white button-down shirt that his long agile fingers simply slid up the center, magically buttoning it shut. Another gesture into the wardrobe produced a black fitted, sleeveless over-robe that he pulled on and buttoned up the center with the same bit of wandless magic.

“How come I don't see anyone else doing stuff like that?” Harry asked, feeling transfixed by it.

“Hmm?” Maximilian asked, looking up at Harry with a questioning look.

“The button thing – you do all this wandless magic...”

“Ah, well we've already covered that to some extent. I was performing wandless magic when I was quite young – long before I got to Hogwarts and was surrounded by other wizarding children who had all been taught from birth that performing magic without a wand was impossible. In a way I instinctively worked out the same sort of faerie magic that you and I have been covering over the previous few weeks. I had no teacher, but after some accidental magic, I focused on working out how to do it on purpose and practiced it quite a bit. I never lost the skill, even while in school, so it comes naturally to me still.”

“I wish I would have done that,” Harry said wistfully. “I was terrified of my accidental magic.”

“You're uncle,” Maximilian said, practically spitting out the word, “conditioned you to avoid it like the plague. Even the slightest indication that you'd used any magic seems to have instantly resulted in the worst of your punishments. It's no wonder you've had trouble connecting with your magic in classes since coming to Hogwarts. You spent so many years in your youth suppressing it for fear of punishment.”

Harry flushed slightly in embarrassment at the reminder that Maximilian had seen him at his weakest. That he knew the way he'd been treated – the way he'd been raised. It was mortifying, really.

Maximilian finished dressing and walked over to Harry placing a hand on each shoulder and sending a reassuring warmth through his whole body and relaxing him instantly. “But now I know more about the problem and know better how to help you move past the damage he caused. You have so much power inside you. A tremendous well of it – I could feel it more clearly last night than ever before, spending so much time with you in your mind. I've always known that you're an above-average wizard in power, and wondered why you had trouble performing. Now I know and now I can help you better. We will not allow anything that disgusting maggot did to permanently hinder you any longer.”

Harry blinked in surprise, pulling himself somewhat out of the fog of easy contentment that permeated him still, as Maximilian had still not removed his hands. “What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“We will begin working on more exercises, focused on teaching you to connect with your core better – to become one with it. It goes hand-in-hand with the faerie magic and the wandless exercises we were already beginning to touch upon, but we will focus more on laying a stronger foundation and correcting the damage that has been caused by your subconscious psyche trying to protect you from the maggot's wrath. I think it will help you a lot in the long run, with your practical class results as well, so I think we should prioritize these lessons for our coming time after classes and such.”

“Oh... okay,” Harry said, uncertainly, but willing to go along with it if Maximilian said it was important.

“Now, we need to get you dressed,” Maximilian with a smirk and Harry looked down at himself and flushed slightly at the reminder that he was wearing nothing but an over-robe and his boxers.

Maximilian waved his hand and a pair of trousers and another simple white button-down flew into his hand.

“Put them on and then I'll use a charm to adjust the fit,” he instructed simply as he took a step back to give Harry some space.

Harry heisted a moment before stepping further into the bedroom and then flushed as he pushed the robe over his shoulders, letting it fall onto the floor and then quickly shuffling into the pants and then pulling the shirt over his shoulders. He had to hold the pants up with one hand as they wanted to slip right down over his hips. He struggled with the buttons for a moment before Maximilian reached forward and dragged two fingers up the center of Harry's chest, sending a spark of electricity up his spine, while also magically buttoning the shirt.

Maximilian smirked at him and then summoned his wand to him from where it sat on an end table across the room. A few wordless flicks and the over-loose clothes shrunk to a perfect fit – the trousers, in fact, were probably the best-fitting pair of pants he'd ever worn.

Harry grinned up at the man through his fringe and thanked him.

The two left the bedroom, said a few parting words and Harry finally slipped out with his invisibility cloak over his head and shoulders.

He still had it on when he slipped into the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione was down there with a book on her lap, and her nose in said book. There weren't very many others loitering in the common room though – few Gryffindors were apt to getting up early, and those who did, tended to go straight to the Great Hall for early breakfast.

Harry was glad that she seemed to embroiled in whatever she was reading that she didn't look up at the sound of the portrait opening. Harry quickly and quietly slipped around the room and up the stairs. He took the cloak off before entering the door room, and was grateful that Ron still seemed to be asleep. Seamus and Neville's beds were empty, but neither were in the room either, so Harry figured they were probably in the showers.

All-in-all, Harry seemed to have lucked out and no one took notice of his having disappeared for most the night. The rest of the day went without anything all that noteworthy happening. Harry felt normal again, and even got indignantly irritated when Malfoy and his goons taunted an obviously nervous Ron about the upcoming Quidditch game, in the halls between classes.

The remainder of the week went just as simply, which was good because Harry didn't think he could take anything else unexpected happening at this point. He had enough on his plate with handling Ron and his ever-intensifying nerves. He'd maintained the exact same schedule of spending with with Maximilian as he had before everything had changed, so nothing seemed unusual to his friends.

Of course it wasn't just politics, history, faerie magic, and defense discussions that happened now. Maximilian covered these new meditations with him first that were all about becoming one with your magic – feeling it, surrounding yourself with it until you knew it better than anything else, and commanding it completely and without conscious thought. It was surprisingly difficult, Harry realized, as he found he had very little say over what his raw magical core did, and really had no idea how to 'become one with it' despite Maximilian's coaching.

Maximilian said that his lack of connection with it was why he struggled with wandless magic so much, despite having more than enough raw magic to excel at the field. He also said that this was because Harry had been conditioned for so long to isolate his magical core from himself and his emotions, in order to reduce accidental magical outbursts. Of course, being such an emotional person, it hadn't always worked, but had instead resulted in only the really strong emotional outbursts connecting with his core and causing especially explosive incidents.

They had also spent a small bit of their time together each afternoon those last few days reviewing Harry's progress with sorting his mindscape. There was still a lot of work to do to truly get it organized, but a very solid foundation had been laid that night they had spent together – a thought that still made Harry blush and grin – so Harry had time to slowly deal with the rest of the work at his leisure. This was a process that he spent about an hour each night working on, once going to bed.

Unfortunately, with all of this to keep them busy, there hadn't really been any new occurrences of that gloriously enjoyable snogging that they'd engaged in the previous weekend. It appeared that Maximilian was practicing restraint or something, and he wanted Harry to practice his Occlumency so that Harry didn't turn into a wanton pile of goo every time they touched.

Maximilian had been pleased and impressed with the fact that Harry seemed to be catching on to this particular aspect of the ordered mindscape Occlumency, with great aptitude. Harry was less thrilled. It had been his total lack of inhibitions that had allowed him to egg the elder wizard on, to the point of the two of them getting intimate. Now that he wasn't loosing his senses every time they touched, his inhibitions, insecurity and anxiety were rearing their unwelcome heads and holding him back from initiating anything more intimate than some tentative touches.

With all of the distractions going on and drawing in his focus that week, he hadn't really had any time to stress or worry about the Quidditch game. Outside of worrying about (or being annoyed by) Ron's worrying, Harry hadn't had the time to experience any of his own performance anxiety. He'd gone to the practices that Angelina had scheduled, and felt he was in as good a form as he could be expected to be in considering that there was no Quidditch the previous year, and he wasn't able to fly over the summers.

But he'd been sharpening his skills as often as he could manage – and while he probably could have been joining Ron a bit more often in his free time to sharpen them even more, Harry hadn't really had free time to spare. He felt confident in his preparation. He just had to stay focused on his search for the snitch, and make sure he beat Malfoy to it.

–
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Professor Monroe