"Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror... been keeping busy, not worrying about not seeing anything, moving past the disappointment" Harry gave a fake smile and walked off to his team, as James spat bitterly on the ground. Harry left the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now, no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Slytherins running to lift him onto their shoulders; Draco and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Blaise and Theo cheering through heavy nosebleeds.