Harry felt that this year had been quite busy, yet peaceful.
Although Lockhart had often pestered him during the first two months or so, the Aurors had taken Lockhart away, and Harry had heard no strange voices.
Although some students were a little afraid of him because he spoke Parseltongue, it had not affected his life at all. His friends still liked him just as much.
Only Colin was a bit annoying.
"Hey, Harry! Look over here!"
Harry rode his Broomstick, the cool morning breeze brushing his cheeks and clearing his head. With a gentle turn, he easily dodged a ball flying straight at him; the Bludger skimmed past his side, barely grazing the hem of his clothes.
At the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, Colin Creevey was taking pictures of Harry with his camera. He sat on his Broomstick holding the camera in both hands, yet remained perfectly steady—a level of flying skill beyond quite a few second-year students.
Colin had practiced specifically so he could photograph Harry looking heroic on the Quidditch Pitch.
It just went to show that people had limitless potential when doing something they enjoyed.
Harry carried on as usual, utterly undistracted by Colin's shout. He had grown used to it. Previously, Colin had distracted him several times, nearly getting him knocked off his Broomstick by a Bludger. Once, a Bludger had almost shattered his shin.
Ever since then, he had worked hard to pretend Colin did not exist.
Because of those two incidents, Colin's camera had been confiscated, and he had been given two weeks of detention. Professor McGonagall had also strictly forbidden him from entering the Quidditch Pitch to bother Harry during practice—but this time, Colin had come to take pictures from outside the pitch as soon as his detention ended.
"Bothering Harry