The next Dance

THE NEXT DANCE
BY
AERIE22
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1 AFTERMATH............................................................................................................... 3
CHAPTER 2 FREE............................................................................................................................ 17
CHAPTER 3 I'LL GET THEM..........................................................................................................29
CHAPTER 4 HERMIONE.................................................................................................................43
CHAPTER FIVE FEELING VERY, VERY OLD............................................................................ 57
CHAPTER SIX "YOU DID THIS TO ME"...................................................................................... 70
CHAPTER SEVEN THE LOO.......................................................................................................... 84
CHAPTER EIGHT MAGIC.............................................................................................................102
CHAPTER NINE SIR RICHARD................................................................................................... 115
CHAPTER TEN BEATER...............................................................................................................134
CHAPTER ELEVEN GOLEM........................................................................................................ 153
CHAPTER TWELVE "IS IT ALWAYS GOING TO BE LIKE THIS?"........................................182
CHAPTER 13 GINNY AGONISTES..............................................................................................197
CHAPTER 14 IN-LAWS................................................................................................................. 219
CHAPTER 15 DANCING............................................................................................................... 246
CHAPTER 16 THE CHRISTMAS EXPRESS................................................................................ 272
CHAPTER 17 AMRITSAR............................................................................................................. 290
CHAPTER 18 HOME...................................................................................................................... 312
CHAPTER 19 "HAPPY NEW YEAR, HARRY"............................................................................343
CHAPTER 20 CLEOPATRA'S WRATH........................................................................................362
CHAPTER 21 JOURNALISM 101..................................................................................................391
CHAPTER 22 VISIONS.................................................................................................................. 428
CHAPTER 23 DISTANT RUMBLINGS........................................................................................ 472
CHAPTER 24 NEW RELATIONSHIPS......................................................................................... 492
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CHAPTER 1 AFTERMATH
Parvati Patil awoke to a mild, but nonetheless jarring pain in her ankle. As she realized she was in
the hospital wing, the events of the previous day came flooding back. Harry. Snowflake the unicorn.
Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy. Death. Reawakenings. And finally, love.
She sighed in the dim light of the four corner candles of the wing as she raised her head. She had
been sleeping on her stomach and now rolled so she was facing right to look at Harry, who was
sleeping not more than three feet away in the next bed. He was at peace. She smiled. He was so
beautiful. And she knew now. He was her Harry.
Who was he? He was nice looking. Not on par with strikingly handsome, tragic Cedric Diggory. Or
the elegant, if stuffy, Justin Finch-Fletchley. He didn't have the down-home wholesome good looks
of Ernie Macmillan. Or the funky dazzle of Lee Jordan. He wasn't big and brawny, like Wayne
Hopkins, or tall and lanky like Ron Weasley. But he was trim and nice looking, with a smoldering
intensity that could dissolve in an instant into boyish grin that could melt a girl's heart.
But he was more than that. He was a quiet, sensitive boy who had sat patiently, listening to her
chatter on about her crazy family over ice cream in the kitchens while everyone else slept. He was a
boy tormented by slights, real and imagined, as he poured his heart out to her in the common room
after hours. He was the selfless friend who tried valiantly to match her up with his best friend Ron
despite what she sensed were his growing feelings for her. He was the romantic who swept her into
his arms only twenty-four hours ago, when he understood that she was free and interested. And he
was the heroic champion who stepped between her and Voldemort and his Death Eaters to save her
and, in doing so, brought out the Gryffindor in her as she stood by him during the attack in the
Forbidden Forest despite the mind-numbing terror she felt.
And he was hers. She knew that now. She smiled and sighed and she nestled into her pillow. What
profit to sleep and dream when her best dream lay not three feet away.
Suddenly, through a muzzy haze of sleepiness, she heard another sound. Someone else breathing.
She glanced down at the foot of her bed at the dark figure sitting in the aisle between their two beds.
Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dark.
"Professor Snape?" she whispered.
Snape did not move. He seemed to be staring intently at Harry.
Parvati stared through the dim light at the silent, unblinking figure. She didn't know why he was
there, or whether to be frightened or not. She continued to watch Snape watch Harry for at least
another minute. Finally, she spoke again. "Professor?"
Snape's gaze did not wander from Harry's sleeping form. Finally, he spoke.
"Do you think he is a good man?" he said softly as if in a dream.
Parvati blinked in surprise. "Harry?" she whispered.
After a brief pause, he spoke again. "Do you think he is a good man?" Snape repeated in the same
detached voice.
"I love him," she answered.
Snape continued to stare at Harry, his chest rising and falling slowly under his robe.
"I knew his father, you know," he said quietly. "Hated him, actually. He and Remus and Sirius and
Peter. Hated them all."
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Parvati stared at the Potions Master in growing alarm.
But Snape continued his calm vigil. "Peter was not a good man. Neither was Sirius. But he paid
later. Paid a high price. Remus couldn't help it. But I hated James most of all."
Parvati watched Snape warily, aware now that her wand was only a foot away on the nightstand
between hers and Harry's beds. "Harry said Sirius was innocent. So did Professor Dumbledore," she
whispered.
"Yes," he said cryptically.
Parvati continued to stare at the dark, brooding form.
Harry turned in his sleep, his face lit briefly by the candles. Snape's eyes flared momentarily.
"He looks like his father, you know," he said in a hoarse whisper.
Parvati simply blinked and waited.
Snape continued to watch Harry. "It's all there," he murmured.
Parvati didn't know what to think. "What's all there?"
Snape blinked for what seemed to be the first time since Parvati awoke. His eyes seemed unfocused
now. "The arrogance. The aloofness. The ego. The disdain for authority. I'm sure the cruelty is
there, too. And the ease of it all. Everything comes easy to him. But he won't have it. He's too good
for the rest of us," he said quietly.
Was he talking about Harry? Parvati wondered. Or some ghosts from his own distant past? "No,"
she said firmly.
"Mmmm?" Snape murmured, not taking his eyes of Harry.
Parvati stared at the Potions' master intently. "No. He's none of those things. If you knew him, you
wouldn't even think that," she said in a quiet but annoyed tone.
Snape for the first time turned to look at her in puzzlement.
"He is not his father. He never even knew his father. Didn't even know what he looked like until he
got here. Or his mum. Didn't know how they died, or why. He didn't know anything about them. He
told me over a dish of ice cream a few nights ago, like it was the most natural thing in the world to
be kept in the dark about your parents." Her voice, while still quiet, was now harsh.
Snape was silent, brooding. After a couple minutes, Harry suddenly shifted again in his sleep and
Snape's eyes narrowed once again. "He looks like him. His father. It's in his blood."
Now Parvati's eyes narrowed. "Blood again, professor? Pure blood? Tainted blood? Mud Blood?
Wog blood? Is that all you Slytherins think about?"
Snape turned slowly to the girl in surprise.
"Oh, I know about all that blood garbage. His blood is fine when the wizarding world needs it to be
spilled in their defense. But when it's done with him, then you all start talking about bad blood
again. Like his mother being a mudblood. It's the same with me. When Madame Pomfrey has her
annual drive for blood for her medicinal potions, wog blood like mine is fine. So is Lee Jordan's.
And Su Li's. And Cho Chang's. And Dean Thomas's. But let us get anywhere near one of your
precious purebloods and alarms start going off."
Snape was now staring at her.
"And what about Harry's blood, professor? I've heard all the stories about how nasty Harry's aunt
and uncle were to him. And Harry's aunt is a blood relation. Next thing you know you'll tell me that
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he had to spend all those years growing up abused by those wretched relatives of his because of
blood relations. It's all a lot of garbage. It's not blood. It's character. Not mumbo-jumbo. Not a lot of
inbred nonsense. You asked if he's a good man. He is. A better man that you'll ever know."
Snape blinked at the girl's sudden outburst. His eyes clouded and he opened his mouth as if to say
something. But he closed it again and turned back to Harry. He was silent for a long time, as if he
were returning to another world, another time.
"He did take Lily," Snape said finally, a slight tremor apparent in his hand. Snape's breathing had
taken on a different tone as his chest rose and fell more deeply.
Parvati watched the Potions Master intently and waited.
"Then they were murdered, and he was alone. And so was I," he continued. "And all this time I
could not let it go."
Parvati was now watching Snape, her fury spent, with a sudden sense of pity. Blood. It was not
about blood. It was about something else. Something much deeper and more personal. She did not
understand exactly what he was saying, but she now understood enough. "Are you all right,
Professor?" she whispered.
"Is he a good man?"
Parvati blinked. "He saved us, Professor. He saved me."
Snape nodded. Then he sighed deeply. "Being great does not mean being good," he said as if from
miles away.
Parvati lowered her head and closed her eyes. "He is a good man, Professor. He never asked for any
of this. But he never backed away. He will always be there for us. For me, I think. That's why I love
him."
Snape nodded and paused for a long time. Finally, he spoke. "Thank you, Miss Patil. I would
appreciate it if you did not share our little talk with anyone."
Parvati nodded as Severus Snape rose slowly and walked thoughtfully down the row of beds and
exited the hospital wing.
***
Harry woke with a start. He looked around quickly only to realize he was still in the hospital wing.
He slowly looked to his right and saw that Parvati was still in the next bed, sleeping fitfully. He
rolled his head at get the knots out of his neck and shoulders and flinched from the muscle strain in
his left shoulder gained in the confrontation with Voldemort. He reached to lower his blanket and
flinched again as the burns on his right hand, now encased in a potion-lined glove, gave him a quick
pain.
Suddenly, a freckled arm reached out from behind him to ease his effort to lower the blanket. He
turned quickly, only to flinch again as his shoulder knotted up.
"Easy, now, Harry," came a familiar voice.
Harry smiled. "Ron? What are you doing up? Aren't you usually dead to the world at this time?"
Harry reached for his glasses, and Ron came into view, carrying a chair. "By the way, what time is
it?"
Ron returned the smile. "Well, according to my watch, it's about 5:25 am, although I can't be sure
because I've never been up this early to check whether my watch works during the night, or sleeps
through like me."
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Harry started chuckling and couldn't stop. Ron joined in, laughing quietly. Finally, Ron caught his
breath. "Keep it down, you prat. I only got to stay because I promised Pomfrey I wouldn't cause
trouble."
Harry finally caught his breath. "And she believed you? She doesn't know you like I do," he said,
resuming his quiet laughter.
"Here, come on. Let's move over to the corner so we don't wake Sleeping Beauty," he said, nodding
toward Parvati. "Can you walk?"
Harry grinning at waking up to find his friend by his side. "Don't tell me you were here all this
time."
Ron shrugged. "Well, I did fall asleep in the chair after a while and Mercy...you know Mercy,
Madame Pomfrey's assistant?"
Harry nodded.
"Well, she made me lie down over in the corner for a while. Then I had this dream about Snape and
blood or something and I woke up. Maybe he was a vampire or something. Otherwise, I guess you
would have been waking me up."
Harry chuckled, then smiled fondly at his friend. "Don't worry. We're going to be fine. I think
Pomfrey's keeping us here to keep us away from the press and the Ministry types."
Harry rose, but suddenly felt a little light-headed. Pomfrey had explained that he would be weak for
a day or two as his body and his magic slowly returned to normal. Ron grabbed him, but Harry
waved him off and walked over to a bed across the aisle and sat up on it.
Harry looked at his best friend fondly. "You didn't have to stay all night. I wasn't planning on going
anywhere."
Ron shook his head. "Look, I had a tough enough time sneaking back in here. I came in with
Professor Flitwick, who did a song and dance for the Aurors until Pomfrey came out and gave them
the nod. Otherwise, I would still be out in the back of the crowd outside," he whispered.
Harry's eyes opened wide. "There's still people out there?"
Ron nodded. "A half dozen reporters were still camped out in the corridor at midnight when I snuck
in, along with some minor ministry types and a few students, including a few of your firsties. Sam
and Cassie, Willie and Maura, and the Beaver and the Toad have been in and out. The other four
hung around until they got chased away by McGonagall. Don't ask me how the rest managed to
escape her attention. And just about all the rest of the house has been up to ask about you, along
with lots of people from the other houses. And you'll love this. Millicent Bulstrode and Blaise
Zabini from Slytherin were up here, as well."
Harry chuckled. "Millicent I can understand. She was always the best of that lot. But the Ice Queen,
too?"
Ron smiled. "Didn't I hear that her little sister Gina tried asking you out in the library? Maybe
insanity runs in her family."
Harry started. "Who told you about Gina?" he said with a small smile. "I never told anyone."
"Oh, a fly on the wall...a Lavender fly on the wall," Ron said with a broad smile.
Harry looked puzzled. "How did she...?"
Ron laughed quietly. "She was in the next row in the library and overheard your little romantic
rendezvous. She was so impressed how sweetly you let the poor girl down that she practically
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swooned...isn't that her favorite word?...Yes, swooned as she recounted the scene for Parvati,
Ginny, Seamus and me."
Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes. Then his face clouded. "How about Hermione? How is
she doing?"
Ron's demeanor changed. He sighed deeply. "Well, now. You really know how to muck up a
situation, don't you. She took off out of here in tears and hasn't come out of her room...or at least
hadn't before I snuck out of the house to come back here."
Harry lowered his head and sighed. "I was afraid of that." He paused for a long time, contemplating
the complexities of the situation. Finally, he looked up at Ron. "I'm sorry, Ron. I guess I did muck
things up."
Ron nodded. "How long has all this been going on?" he asked, motioning to Parvati.
Harry looked away again. "Just a couple days, really. It happened so quickly, I can't explain it."
Ron nodded. "That's why you were in such a panic to get me to take Parvati out."
Harry felt terrible about everything. He hadn't planned to fall in love with Parvati. But he couldn't
deny it. Harry nodded back. "I told you about our night dancing around in the common room on
Wednesday night after lights out. We had such a good time together that, for the first time, I really
noticed how nice and how much fun she was. But when I woke up in the middle of the night the
next night and came down to the common room for a workout, she was there again. And we talked
and laughed and snuck out for some ice cream. That's when I started to realize I had feelings for
her. And I couldn't do that to you. So, yes, that's why I pushed you to take her out. Better, and
simpler, if you two got together."
Ron nodded. "I guess I was a little put out when you told Hermione and...well told Hermione and I
was here to hear it." Ron seemed to pause in thought for a long time. "Actually, I was kind of mad
at you at first. Then, after thinking about it, I realized that I almost lost my best friend for the
second time in a few months. And I had to come back. Because you are my best friend," he said
quietly.
"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said quietly.
"You know, I really should be pissed at you."
Harry nodded and hung his head.
"I mean really pissed."
Harry's head hung down even farther. Ron was right. He was a horrible person for stealing the girl
Ron had been crushing on since the start of the term. Harry rose his head to apologize, as if that
would be enough. But Ron was giving him a wistful smile.
"You know how tough it is to be your friend?" he said quietly.
Harry closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. "I'm really sorry, Ron. I told you I didn't
mean to fall in love with Parvati. It just happened," he said sadly.
Ron sighed. "That's not what I mean," he said quietly. "You're special. People recognize that.
You're always there for me. You're the best friend I could ask for. A brother. But you're special. But
I'd like to be special once in a while."
Harry gave a rueful sigh. "You are special."
Ron hung his head in concentration. "No I'm not," he said finally. "People look at you and know.
They look at me and shrug. Just another Weasley."
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Harry looked sharply at his friend. "You are special. Being a Weasley is something to be proud of. I
would have loved to grow up with you, with your family. Being a Weasley is the first thing that
makes you special. But it's not the only thing," Harry said urgently.
Ron blinked. "What?"
"Ron. You are part of a proud, independent, decent clan. When was the last time a Weasley was
ever thought of as less than honest?"
Ron shrugged. "Still, I'd like for someone to see me as something other than just another Weasley
or Harry Potter's pal."
Harry closed his eyes in sorrow. "You are special. Look at what you've done. By the end of first
year, you'd won 50 points for Gryffindor and helped rub the Slytherins' noses in it when we won the
House Cup. Everyone knew your name. In second year, you helped rescue Ginny from the Chamber
of Secrets. And you are a Hogwarts legend for driving your dad's old Anglia to school. Why do you
think Malfoy is always picking on you?"
"Because we're poor," he said sullenly.
Harry widened his eyes in exasperation. "No poorer than half the students here. Look at Colin and
Dennis Creevey. Their father drives a lorry. Or what's-her-name, Amy...Hatten in Ravenclaw. Her
father's a dock worker."
"Their families are Muggles. They're here on scholarship," Ron muttered.
Harry stared intently at his best friend. "No, Ron. Malfoy doesn't pick on you because you're poor.
He does it because he's afraid of you."
Ron started. "What?"
Harry took a deep breath. "Ron. You're smarter than he is. You're bigger. Tougher. Braver. More
popular. And you're certainly a lot better looking than old ferret-face," Harry said with a snort.
"Draco Malfoy, the albino rat boy."
The two friends chuckled.
Harry turned again to his friend. "And once you get some practice in, I'm sure you'll be a better
Quidditch player than him. You're everything he wants to be, but isn't. So he falls back on his
family's money and influence to protect him. And when that doesn't work, he's got Crabbe and
Goyle. And God only knows what will happen to all that now that his father tried to kill Parvati and
me in front about 30 witnesses."
"Azkaban," Ron said matter of factly.
Harry snorted. "If they can find him." He turned back to his friend. "So you see, you are special.
Special enough for Malfoy to fear you. And special enough for everyone in the school to know you
and respect you and admire you...at least those who don't fear you."
Ron sat and contemplated this. Finally, he gave a curt nod. "I guess you're right. I just wish...well,
first I liked Hermione, but she liked you. Then that got bollixed up and then it was supposed to be
Parvati and me, but...well."
Harry nodded. "I'm sorry," he said in a small voice.
"I should be pissed at you over that...but I'm not, you know."
Harry gave his friend a puzzled and embarrassed look. "You're not?"
It was Ron's turn to look down. "I was never in love with Parvati," he said in a barely audible tone.
Harry gave his best friend a puzzled stare. "No?"
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Ron shook his head. "I don't know. I thought she was pretty and all. Then I told her so on the way
here on the Hogwarts Express and everyone started to make such a big deal about it and...well, I
kind of liked the idea of being with a pretty girl and all. But...I don't know."
Harry pursed his lips and pondered. "I don't know either," he whispered.
Ron sighed. "I kept thinking about what you said about Hannah and Ernie. You know, about just
being comfortable walking around holding hands and stuff." Ron paused and frowned in
concentration. "But Parvati's...I don't know. She's scary. Like holding hands is okay, but I think like
she'd want to be doing things together and all. Like it's a lot of work. I'd have to keep thinking up
new stuff for us to do and worrying about whether she'd like it and whether I could keep her
happy."
Ron paused again and Harry waited for his friend. "And she broke Dan Turley's nose. And
everybody heard her yelling at Kevin Entwhistle when they broke up. They say you can still hear
echoes of her screams at him in the Astronomy Tower stairwell."
Harry started giggling again, and Ron had to shush him several times before he could catch his
breath and regain his composure.
"Look, do you want to listen or not?" Ron said with a small frown.
Harry looked contritely at his friend. "I'm sorry, Ron. All of a sudden, when I start laughing, I can't
stop," he said with a small smile.
Ron snorted. "Well, you'll be laughing if she decides to do a Dan Turley on you," he said with a wry
grin. "It's not like you're Wayne Hopkins's size, or even my size. She could probably knock you into
next week if she had a mind to," Ron said with an evil grin.
Harry smiled, but this time kept his composure. "Look, Dan Turley made a pass at her. And you
know what a jerk he is. And Kevin? Well, he can be a little thoughtless. You've heard some of the
comments he's made in Transfiguration. Like he says something, and then thinks, instead of the
other way around."
Ron shrugged.
"Is that why you had such a lousy date? Because you were afraid of her?"
Ron shrugged. "No. I just figured I'd always be afraid of doing something wrong," he said with a
sigh. "I don't want to go with a girl who...well...never knowing if I'm doing stuff right or if she's
going to get mad at me or something. But everyone said we should be together and I guess I went
along because she was pretty. But, well...I just want what you said. A nice girl who I can hold hands
with and who I can know likes me...and just me. You know. Someone I can relax with, not someone
I have to be on guard about."
Harry nodded. "I think I understand."
Ron was quiet for a long time. "But not Hermione?"
Harry turned silent now. He thought for an even longer time. Finally, he spoke. "You know, when I
was growing up, I was never allowed to ask questions or stuff. I really wanted to know about my
parents, but my aunt and uncle used to scream at me or threaten to take a belt or a paddle to me
when I asked about them."
Ron was confused by Harry's sudden shift in conversation. But he was getting used to Harry's
recent habit of sometimes going on and on in elliptical ramblings. As he listened to Harry, he
allowed himself a small smile. Ron knew that Fred and George would never let him get away with
rambling. Nor would the ever-impatient Percy. Nor Bill or Charlie, who always seemed to be in a
rush.
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Then suddenly, a thought that had been bubbling just under the surface from previous recent
conversations with Harry burst through. Harry didn't have a Fred or a George. Nor a Percy. Nor Bill
or Charlie to tell him how to express his innermost feelings, about what you talked about, and what
you didn't. Harry never had anyone to talk to like this, and probably never before had talked about
what he was feeling or thinking. At least not until this summer.
Harry didn't really know how to express himself, Ron thought. So the words just flowed out in a
stream of consciousness, a flood, a torrent of 15 years of pent-up emotions, heartaches, fears, and
dreams. And all because Harry trusted him, Ron thought. It was often confusing to understand what
Harry was going on about or where he was headed. But Ron understood now that Harry was giving
him a gift, trusting him with what was in his heart. And Ron would do his best to understand. And
when he couldn't, he would just listen.
Ron looked intently at Harry. "They were really bad, those Dursleys."
Harry nodded. "So I never thought it was right to ask people things or talk about yourself."
Ron now had a puzzled frown. "We talk about stuff."
Harry looked at Ron. "That's cause we're best mates. I can talk to you about stuff that I can't talk
about to anyone else."
Ron nodded solemnly.
Harry was breathing heavily. "Then this summer, I met Sara. Things were pretty bad. I was having
nightmares about Cedric and Voldemort. And my aunt and uncle were being horrible. And I kept
meeting nice people who seemed to be interested in me. Then I met Sara. She seemed kind of stuck
up at first. But she was so pretty. And she started asking about you and me and Hermione, and
seemed real interested in me and what I thought," Harry said with a sigh.
Ron gave Harry a confused look, but waited patiently for his friend to continue.
"Then she asked about, you know, cute boys, like girls always seem to do. I thought about Cedric,
and how he was good looking and nice and how she would have really liked him. And that
reminded me of how he was killed and everything just sort of piled up in my brain and I told her.
And I cried. I felt so stupid. I was embarrassed and wanted to run away..."
Harry was now becoming animated and upset and paused. He took a deep breath and slowly
regained a calmer and more thoughtful tone. "But she wouldn't let me run away," he said softly.
"She was so nice. And talking to her helped me so much that I stopped having as many nightmares.
That's when I realized that it wasn't so awful to be able to talk to people about what you were
feeling. That's why I decided to tell you about Hermione."
Ron blushed. "Yeah, and I guess I was a real prat."
Harry shook his head. "No, Ron. You needed time to think. So did I."
"Still..."
Harry shrugged. "I was a little worried. But you and I are friends. And I shouldn't have worried. I
know that now."
Harry sighed. "But I also talked to other people I met. I really talked to them, especially after I
moved in with the Strowbridges. And I realized that people do talk about what's on their minds and
about themselves. I realized that most people don't go through life with their mouths shut and their
heads down."
Ron nodded absently, deep in thought.
Harry was now looking off into the distance. "But I was always afraid to talk to Hermione about
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that things deep in my heart. And she never really talked to us about stuff on her mind. And there
were millions of things I would have liked to know but was always afraid to ask, like she would
think I was prying or something. Like, I don't even know what her parents' names are. Do you?"
Ron shrugged. "Stan and Maud."
Harry frowned and sighed.
Suddenly, Ron looked up. "Maybe that's not fair. It's not like we talked all that much about stuff we
thought about to her, either."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe," he said absently. "I didn't want her to think I was whining or make her
upset over the Dursleys. Plus, it's hard to talk to a girl you like. Like I talked about all sorts of
things with Parvati on Friday night, after she came to get me when she was upset about your date."
Ron's eyes went wide. "What? You didn't tell me that."
Harry blinked. "Oh..."
Ron was looking intently at Harry. "What happened?"
Harry shifted, uneasily. "Well, she came up to the dorms to get me late Friday night. She was upset
that you two didn't hit it off. I told her I would talk to you for her, but she...I don't know. I guess she
figured neither of you were interested in a follow-up date. And we talked about a lot of things. And
I started to realize that here was a nice girl, someone who I could talk to, who was interesting, who
could make me laugh. Someone who I wouldn't have to ask permission from each time I wanted to
hold her hand, but who would probably grab my hand first," he said with a small, distant smile.
Ron sighed. "I never thought of her like that."
Harry shrugged. "Neither did I."
"And Hermione couldn't do that?"
Harry face took on a melancholy cast. "I wanted her to be the one. I really did. But every time I
wanted to talk to her or anything, something kept happening to stop us." Harry sighed. "I wanted to
talk to her on the ride to Diagon Alley, but she kept looking out of the window, and I couldn't seem
to get her to talk. Or on the Hogwarts Express. But she seemed more concerned about talking about
being a prefect, or Malfoy and what I said to him. Or lots of times in the library. Or when I wanted
to go picnicking. And when I finally got up the courage and did tell her how I felt about her in the
library, she seemed...well, you know what happened. It was like the Dursleys all over again. Keep
your mouth shut and your head down and you'll keep out of trouble. But speak your mind, say
what's in your heart and you get punished. It took Parvati to show me that talking about how you
feel with a girl you like is okay."
Ron pursed his lips again. "Hermione likes you."
Harry closed his eyes in sorrow. It was several minutes before Harry spoke again. "Ron," he said
quietly. "Could you look after her?"
Ron looked at Harry intently.
Harry took a deep breath. "Look, you saw how I was after...the library thing...when I told her, or at
least tried to tell her how I felt. Well, I guess I ended up doing the same thing to her when I told her
that Parvati and I were a couple. And I think she's probably as fragile as I was. So she's probably
really mad at me."
Harry turned sad eyes up at Ron. "And she doesn't have a best friend as a roommate to share her
problems with. She never was that friendly with Parvati and Lavender and she sure isn't going to
turn to either of them now. So she's going to need someone to lean on. And you're her best friend. I
11
...I don't know if she's going to want me as a friend anymore. So she's going to need you more than
ever." Harry took another deep breath and closed his eyes, wishing for once that things in his life
could be simple.
Ron nodded. "I'll try."
***
Ron finally left to go back to the dorms to wash up for breakfast. Harry returned to the bed next to
Parvati and leaned back against his pillows, shaking his head. 'Why couldn't things be simple?' he
thought. He turned to his right to look at Parvati. She was looking back at him with an anxious
expression. "Parvati," he whispered. "I didn't know you were awake."
Parvati nodded. "You still care about her, don't you?"
Harry blinked. "You heard all that?"
She nodded. "Enough to understand what you two were talking about. But you didn't answer my
question. You still care about her, don't you?"
Harry leaned back against his pillow and thought for a few moments. Closing his eyes, he
answered. "Yes, Parvati. I do."
Harry could hear Parvati sigh and then shift in her bed. "Do you love her?" she asked in an anxious
voice.
Harry paused again, trying to figure out how to answer this most important question. He took a deep
breath and blew it out slowly.
Her turned to face Parvati, whose eyes were wide in fear and anticipation. "No, Parvati. I don't think
I do."
"Are you sure?"
Harry leaned back against his pillow. How could he explain all the complexities and emotions
running through him at this moment...that had been running through him for the past few days...or
for that matter, the past few weeks.
"I thought I loved her..." he began, and paused, still struggling with his feelings. He sighed and
Parvati waited patiently, still upset and concerned. "She's...ah...well, you have to realize that
Hermione and I were close for a long time. Since the beginning of first year. She was the only girl I
really knew...that I really cared about or trusted. Then, when I realized how pretty she had gotten, I
started to think that I was falling in love with her."
Harry paused again, and heard Parvati shift in her bed again. He glanced over and she was now
lying on her side, watching him closely. He suddenly felt he could tell this girl anything and she
would understand, even if she didn't like it. He took another deep breath. "She had kissed me on the
cheek as we said goodbye at the end of last year at the train station. And I thought about that kiss all
summer. The beginning of the summer was a combination of heaven and pure hell for me. Then,
when my uncle beat me and almost killed me, she was what helped get me through."
He heard Parvati gasp. "What?!? He beat you? He tried to kill you? Why didn't you say anything
about this? What happened?" she exclaimed, wide-eyed, almost babbling as her questions tumbled
out in a rush.
Harry looked at her, feeling the pain of all that had happened in the past summer. He sunk his head
into his pillows, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on how to tell the story. But he knew
Parvati needed to know in order to know him. He took another deep breath.
"You have to understand. My aunt is my mother's sister. My aunt always hated my mother. I guess
12
she was jealous of her baby sister. And my aunt was a Muggle. So she hated me and all I
represented, like I was there just to remind her about how special my mum was and how ordinary
she was. I had the same powers that my mother had. So when Dumbledore left me with the
Dursleys after my parents were killed, my aunt and uncle hated and resented everything I was and
did everything they could to deny my abilities. I wasn't normal, in their eyes. So I was treated with
suspicion. Every bit of accidental magic I performed was looked at as an act of defiance...an affront
to what they thought of as respectable. And I was punished severely for anything I did wrong for as
long as I can remember."
Parvati grunted in sympathy.
"But this summer, I started to get out of the house more and realized how nice people were. That the
Muggle world was not made up of greedy, brutal, suspicious people. Many were willing to help me,
to talk to me, to offer advice and guidance, or just listen to me, all the things my aunt and uncle
refused to do."
Harry opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He was still confused about what
exactly had happened in early July. But he felt he had to tell the story as best as he could.
"Well, I was doing all this work for my neighbors, mowing lawns and painting fences and sheds and
helping with carpentry and stuff. And I was earning money for the first time. But then my uncle
took all that I had earned. Then when one of my favorite neighbors asked me why I wouldn't go out
on a Friday night to have fun, I let slip that I didn't have any money to have fun, that my aunt and
uncle took it all."
Parvati exclaimed in outrage. "Those nasty people."
Harry nodded and continued. "Well, Mr. Nichol...he's the one who taught me karate...apparently
told other people and I guess it got back to the Dursleys. So my uncle hit me a couple times...I don't
know how many times because next thing I knew, I woke up in the cupboard, sore and dizzy. And
they locked me in there, just like they did when I was young and had to live in there."
Parvati was sitting up now. "You lived in a cupboard?"
Harry nodded sadly. "They only let me out a couple times to go to the bathroom. Finally, Reverend
Strowbridge rescued me. I guess people complained that I wasn't showing up to cut their lawns like
I promised and he came to investigate. I found out later that I'd been locked in the cupboard for four
days."
Parvati had now gotten up and got into Harry's bed to hold him. Harry, almost without noticing, put
his arm around her shoulder and continued.
"In the hospital, they told me I would be all right. But I told Dumbledore I would never go back
there again. I would run away if they tried to make me go back. But he and some Muggle
authorities who know about us agreed to let me stay with Reverend Strowbridge and his wife Mae
for the summer. And it was wonderful. They were so nice to me. I wish I have grown up with them,
instead of the Dursleys," he said with a sigh.
Parvati, who had laid her head against Harry's chest, sighed as well. "They knew about you? About
our world?"
Harry nodded. "Yes. They were told. But it didn't matter. They loved me anyway."
Parvati just lay there, listening to Harry's heartbeat as his chest rose and fell with each breath.
Harry blinked a couple times. "But you asked about Hermione. During all that time I was with the
Dursleys and the time I was locked in the cupboard, all I seemed to think about was Hermione.
Tony--Reverend Strowbridge--asked me who Hermione was after I came to in the hospital. When
13
he finally found me, all I said was her name before passing out, he told me. Thinking of her was
what got me through it all. And afterwards, some of the Muggle friends I met teased me about her,
saying she was my girlfriend. I even wrote to Ron, even though I thought he might like her, too, and
get mad, to tell him I liked Hermione."
Parvati tried not to react, but she frowned and felt a shiver go down her spine. "And what happened
when you told Ron and Hermione about all this?"
Harry paused. "I didn't tell them."
Parvati looked up, her eyes red-rimmed with the tears she had shed over Harry. "Why not?"
Harry gave a noncommittal look. "Well, I told Ron that I had a fight with my uncle and
Dumbledore decided I would be better off living elsewhere. But I think Ron knows it was really bad
and the move was made to protect me."
Parvati now looked intensely at Harry. "And Hermione?"
Harry shrugged. "I didn't want to upset her. Look, I figure that people were under enough strain,
what with Voldemort back and the O.W.L.s coming up. They didn't need to hear about my
problems."
Parvati sighed and lay back on Harry's chest. "You couldn't trust them to handle it?"
Harry looked off to the side. "Well, Ron would get all upset and angry and rant and rave about
going after the Dursleys and all that. I didn't want that. And Hermione...well, I don't know. I figured
she'd get all weepy and sympathetic and I wouldn't be the same person in her eyes as I was before.
I've always tried to be the strong one and I just didn't want them to pity me."
Parvati shut her eyes. "But you could tell me," she murmured.
Harry looked down at the back of Parvati's head. "I guess so. I figured you would understand. I
don't know how or why, but I figured I could trust you not to think I was a jerk or a child or
something. Just like I could tell you about Hermione."
Parvati looked up at him. "But you still didn't really answer me. Do you love Hermione?"
Harry took a deep breath. "I could have fallen in love with Hermione. And we could have gone
along like we have, even being a couple. But I kind of realized when I was with you that I could
never talk to her the way I seem to be able to talk to you. I could have gone through life with
Hermione, maybe even marry her and have children together, always being afraid to tell her what
was deep in my heart, what I felt or was afraid of or things like that...never even realizing that this
was allowed. I would always be afraid of her reaction, that she would think less of me and not like
me as much. It's like living with the Dursleys. I never realized how nice the Muggle world could be
until I was out among the Muggles in the neighborhood. And I never realized that I could talk about
what was in my heart to someone special and have her love me anyway. You taught me that."
Parvati suddenly intensified her grip around Harry's chest and began to weep. Harry reached up and
stroked her hair. "I love you, Harry," she whispered through her tears.
Harry closed his eyes, squeezing out a tear of his own. "I love you, too."
***
The tall gaunt man with the long, unkempt hair walked slowly and cautiously up the road from
Hogsmeade. It was dawn and there was very little activity. He saw the lights still burning in the
windows of the castle ahead, showing that there were a few people awake. Possibly many.
He approached what he knew was the border to Hogwarts. He knew from when he was in his
seventh year, playing with his friends at Apparation games, where the wards started. He knew that
14
they started a good fifteen yards in front of the gate. He was unsure whether this was intentional or
simply the fact that those who installed the permanent Apparation wards were sloppy or simply
inept.
The man held three parchments in his left hand and his right hand was poised over the handle of his
wand. He didn't know if it was a trap. The letter from the Ministry could be a ruse. But the second
parchment, a letter from his best and oldest friend, could not be. This he knew. His friend would
never consciously betray him. But still, he was wary and slowed his pace as he approached.
Finally, he thought of the third parchment. The Ministry might lie to him. His best friend might be
deceived. But not the headmaster. He stopped just steps away from the wards. He looked carefully
around. There seemed to be nothing moving among the long shadows on this chilly, early October
morning. He took a deep breath and crossed the wards and entered onto the grounds of Hogwarts.
***
Samantha Bauman quietly made her way down the stairs with the other pretty Gryffindor first year,
Cassandra Young, in her wake. "Don't worry, Cassie. It's past 7:00. We are allowed to be out."
Cassie nodded, but still felt uncertain. They had been shooed away from the corridor around the
hospital wing early last night. But the two first years were determined to see their favorite people,
Harry and Parvati.
They entered the corridor and Sam smiled as she walked up to the entrance to the hospital wing.
"Hello, Ben," she said in a quiet friendly tone.
Ben Chadwick, one of two Aurors on duty at the entrance to the hospital wing, turned and smiled at
the two. The two pretty young girls had been there at the entrance to the hospital wing almost
constantly from the moment they brought Harry and Parvati in and they had chatted endlessly with
the Aurors on duty.
The Aurors were enchanted by Sam's stories of her Muggle fishing boat captain father and her
craggy Grampa. And the were enthralled by Cassie's descriptions of her life as the daughter of two
of the wizarding world's most famous actors. The ten Aurors now on assignment to protect Harry
and Parvati, and the rest of the students at Hogwarts, had virtually adopted to two little charmers.
"Hello, Sam, Cassie. Not yet, I'm afraid. We're all waiting for the families to come in first," Ben
said with a smile, then motioned them over with a nod.
Sam and Cassie quietly walked up to Chadwick. "Can't let you in with them reporters here," he
whispered, nodding to the group camped out in the hallway.
The most prominent of the group was Rita Skeeter, who was desperately trying to find stories she
could sell. She had been fired from the Daily Prophet after disappearing without warning and
without a trace for nearly three months during the summer. Now, she was struggling as a freelance
journalist, and Harry and Parvati were the biggest game in town.
Skeeter sat there with her fellow reporter and favorite photographer, B.Z 'Bozo' Zorch. They were
playing a quiet game of wizard's chess and trying not to look like they were listening in. Skeeter
shook her head. Bozo had been a photographer, stringer and hanger-on at the Daily Prophet who
had parlayed Rita's absence into a full-time writing job there. And he had learned all her tricks
during their years of partnering. She didn't hold it against him. She would have done the same thing.
But somehow, his face seemed to be on every pawn that got destroyed on the chessboard.
Suddenly, Cassie's eyes lit up and she got a mischievous look on her face. She leaned toward Ben.
"But Ben, we got a pass from a ministry official downstairs," she said in a stage whisper. "He said
only Gryffindors and reporters are going to be allowed in, and only with a pass."
15
Suddenly, the half dozen reporters casually rose and, without looking at each other, began edging
toward the staircase down to the ground floor. By the time they reached the stairwell, they were
sprinting and elbowing each other out of the way.
Ben and Sam looked at Cassie, who was giving them a sly smile. "My mum and dad used to do that
all the time to get rid of reporters or nosy fans." She then turned and gave Ben her sweetest smile.
"Can't we just see Harry and Parvati for a minute," she asked in a little girl voice.
Ben smiled at them indulgently and was about to let them pass when he froze and stared. "Donnie,"
he whispered through clenched teeth to the other Auror standing guard. "Get Cyrus."
Sam and Cassie turned to follow Ben's stare to see a tall, thin stranger approaching at a slow, wary
pace. His face was in shadows. He was dressed all in black and, instead of a robe, he was wearing a
long, dusty, black overcoat.
Cyrus Jordan, wearing just slacks and a tee-shirt, was in the hall immediately despite just being
awakened from his hospital cot next to the hospital wing entrance. He blinked a couple times and
then slowly put his wand, which he had palmed in anticipation of trouble, into a loose holder on his
belt.
He took one last look at the stranger before speaking. "Sirius Black. Welcome back to the world."
Author's Note: Thank you to all the wonderful people who reviewed Dance With Me Harry and
who encouraged me to continue on with a sequel. This is it. I hope it doesn't disappoint.
16
CHAPTER 2 FREE
Harry and Parvati were chatting quietly when they noticed the commotion at the entrance to the
hospital wing. Harry sat up and carefully stood, reaching for his wand. Parvati watched him as his
jaw suddenly dropped and a broad smile appeared on his face. He lurched forward as the man in
black met him. The two embraced warmly.
"You're free!" Harry exclaimed.
Sirius, his eyes shut and an small, uncertain smile playing across his face, grunted. "Yes, you young
sprout, it appears that I am," he said in a faraway voice. He loosened his embrace on Harry to take a
close look at his godson. "How are you doing?" he asked with concern and pain in his eyes. "I got
an owl from the Ministry and then from Remus that said you fought Voldemort. He didn't hurt you,
did he?"
Harry gave Sirius a wintry smile and shook his head. "He came for me. But we hurt him. Maybe
bad. Nobody knows."
"We? You and Dumbledore?"
Harry gave a small chuckle. "No, me and Parvati. My girlfriend," he said, still a little amazed to be
saying that word about anyone, much less someone he had rarely thought about before this past
week. "Let me introduce you."
Harry made his introductions as both Sirius and Parvati stared at each other, unsure what to think.
Parvati had spent her life thinking of Sirius Black as one of the most notorious and vicious killers of
all time. And Sirius was simply perplexed. Harry was such a shy, unassuming kid who suddenly
was sitting there on a hospital bed, holding hands with a lovely young woman.
And Harry looked different. More grown up. More confident than the diffident young kid he had
last seen months before.
With some prompting and prodding by Harry, Parvati began to help describe their confrontation
with the Dark Lord.
However, Harry noted that she wasn't her normal animated self, often pausing to await questions
from Sirius or looking to Harry to continue the tale.
At first, Sirius was somewhat subdued, as well. But soon, his conversation seemed to pick up and
he became more animated, joking and laughing about Harry's and Parvati's adventures, and
occasionally alluding to things and events that Harry didn't quite understand. But then, that was
Sirius, he thought to himself. Always going on about something or other from his days as a
Marauder and seemingly including Harry in on the action, giving him a real feel for what his father
was like.
He didn't notice Parvati's reactions.
Parvati had been a little nervous on meeting Sirius. She hadn't known of Harry's relationship to
Sirius until the night before in the hospital wing when Dumbledore brought up Peter Pettigrew's
capture and confession. Somehow, even Harry's descriptions of his adventures with Sirius and
Lupin and of his developing friendship and admiration for his godfather didn't reassure her
completely.
So she watched. She would fill in a point or detail here or there in Harry's descriptions of their
confrontation with Voldemort. And she made suitable annoyed or caring sounds when Harry told
Sirius about their newly formed relationship.
17
But mostly she watched and listened. Years of being a baby sister in a large family taught her when
to take center stage, which she all-to-happily would do. But it also taught her to listen. And not just
listen, but to be aware of what was being said, and what was being left unsaid. And long nights of
nervous or excited rehashes of family conversations with her twin sister Padma, trying to
understand the grown-up world of her older brothers and sister, had helped Parvati hone her skills
of observation. It now was serving her well in observing the ever changing relationships among the
various players at Hogwarts, although now the whispered late-night analyses were with Lavender
and the product was not so much understanding as speculation and gossip.
As she watched and listened to Sirius, her physical fear of him faded. However, another fear in her
grew. He could be dangerous, she saw. But he loved Harry. And she now understood he would do
anything for his godson.
But there was something more there. Sirius was talking to Harry as a contemporary. But not as an
adult. And he was talking about things Harry couldn't know about. Things that had happened years
ago. And he was talking to Harry not as someone relating stories about his father, but as if Harry
had been there to share the adventure.
Harry was enthralled. He didn't know his father, and Parvati knew he was desperate to know more.
So even when a shadow of confusion passed over Harry's face, he sat there in rapt attention as one
story after another tumbled out of Sirius.
And suddenly, Harry was enthusiastically recounting his own adventures to Sirius, with the
occasional dramatic embellishment unlike what Parvati had heard from him before. She frowned.
Was this an element of Harry's personality she hadn't encountered before? But as she listened, she
shook her head. No. She had begun to get to know Harry, and this wasn't the real Harry. This wasn't
the Harry who would haltingly confess to heroism; who would, without thinking, leave out huge,
important parts of his life, thinking them unworthy of note; and who was straightforward and honest
to the point that at times, bordered on blandness.
This was a different Harry. A Harry desperately seeking a connection with a father he never knew.
Someone who didn't know if his father was a hero or a villain, but who was anxious to fit into his
shoes if it meant recreating from scratch a connection that was never there. And Sirius was the one
person who might be able to share that knowledge, to create that connection.
Harry had just finished telling Sirius of their early morning foray under the invisibility cloak down
to the kitchens for a dish of ice cream, when Sirius began laughing.
"Just like your father," Sirius said breathlessly. He recovered himself and looked at his godson
fondly. "You look and act more and more like him every time I see you, eh, 'Prongs'?"
Parvati frowned. "He is not his father," she said levelly.
"Huh?" Sirius said as both he and Harry turned to look at her.
"Harry is not his father," she said firmly.
Harry frowned but Sirius looked puzzled. "I...I know he's not James. It's just...well he looks so
much like him and acts like him..."
"How would you know, Sirius?" she asked quietly with a dark expression.
Sirius looked at the girl in confusion. "He...just...I don't know. He's a lot like his father, that's all."
Parvati frowned. "Sirius, Harry never knew his father. He wasn't raised by his father. He didn't even
know what his father looked like until he was almost twelve years old. Right, Harry?"
Harry had a concerned look on his face, unsure of what was going on. "Yeah, I guess I mentioned
that the other night."
18
Parvati nodded. "And he doesn't know what his dad was like. Maybe you can tell him. But he is not
his father. He's Harry. Try to remember that."
Sirius was now staring intently at Parvati. "He is a lot like his father."
Parvati returned the stare. "How?"
Sirius's eyes narrowed mischievously. "Well, it appears that he has the same way with the ladies."
Parvati's eyes narrowed in anger, knowing she was being challenged, even baited. She turned to
Harry. "How many girls have you dated, Harry?" she asked softly.
Harry flushed. "Well, none..."
"The Yule Ball..." she whispered.
Harry shrugged. "Well, you, I guess."
Parvati nodded. "And how many girls have you kissed?"
Harry frowned, getting annoyed. "Well, if you have to know, I went snogging with Pam DeMarco
this summer. A couple times. And I kissed Sara Geddes, and she was a lot older and very pretty.
And I kissed Hermione. And you, of course."
Parvati, realizing she had upset him, reached for Harry's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to
embarrass you, Harry. You're a wonderful kisser. But Sirius here seems to think you spend all your
time in the Astronomy Tower," she said with an upset expression. "And we will, if I can help it,"
she whispered to him.
Parvati then turned sharply to Sirius. "He's not James. He's Harry. And I don't want him to be
anything but Harry. I don't want you trying to turn him into something he's not. I don't know what
James Potter was like, but I am sick and tired of people looking at Harry and seeing James."
Sirius blinked and looked at Harry, who was turned toward Parvati and whose face was going
through a series of changes, from annoyance to affection to confusion and back again.
Sirius shook his head and turned back to look at Parvati with new respect. "I think I understand," he
said quietly. "Snape?"
Parvati nodded.
Sirius nodded in return and sighed sadly. "And me, too, I suppose."
Harry watched in confusion. "Will somebody tell me what's going on?"
Parvati pulled Harry into a hug. "Snape hated your father. That's why he hates you," she whispered.
Harry struggled for a moment in her tight embrace and then surrendered to it, still a little confused.
"I know," he muttered.
Sirius smiled at the couple and shook his head slowly. He made to rise, but Parvati, noticing his
movement, let Harry go.
"Don't go yet. I'm sure you and Harry have a lot more to talk about."
Sirius sat back down and ran his hand across his face. "Well, I really need to get cleaned up..." he
said, seeing something new in Parvati's eyes. He nodded, and smiled a little more broadly,
understanding all that the girl was trying to tell him. "But I suppose a shower and a shave, a real
shower and a shave, can wait a little while longer...if you can stand to be around me a little more,"
he said with a grin.
Parvati snorted with a smile. "I've had enough Quidditch players in the family, and done enough
riding myself, that I'm now immune to the smell of a little sweat."
19
Harry settled back, puzzled, but with a growing sense that whatever went on between Sirius and
Parvati was now over and, if they hadn't quite become friends yet, at least they understood each
other.
***
Parvati was just starting to relax in Sirius's presence when there was more commotion at the
entrance to the hospital wing. Sirius jumped and ducked out of habit from years on the run and
Harry reached for his wand again.
But this time, it was Parvati's eyes that lit up.
"Mummy! Daddy! Everybody! You made it!"
Harry and Sirius stared as a small crowd of people ran up to surround and hug Parvati.
The Patil family gabbled excitedly, seeing that their daughter was fit and healthy despite her ordeal.
Harry assumed that the tall, thin man with slicked-back, graying black hair and wearing trim,
conservative business robes was Parvati's father, Sanjit. And the middle-aged woman with long
plaited dark brown hair and a warm concerned smile was her mother, Lil. And, of course, Padma,
Parvati's twin sister.
But the rest of the group was about as diverse as he could imagine one family to he. Most he could
recognize from Parvati's descriptions of them. There was a tall intense-looking man who looked like
a younger version of Sanjit who must be Parvati's oldest brother, Hari, who was being groomed to
take over Patil Imports. And the one the ministry robes with the sandy blonde hair and beard
peeping out from under an elaborate turban must be Hanuman, the self-styled Sikh and
troublemaker. The prim young woman with a pleasant, concerned face, and a somewhat thicker
frame than Parvati and Padma, must be Lakshmi, the older sister. That left two other men. One had
the dark, smoldering looks of a Muggle film star. The other looked much younger, almost young
enough to still be in Hogwarts. He was athletic looking and was the only member of the family who
wore the traditional bindi, the vermilion dot on his forehead. He had long, jet black hair. But Harry
looked at him closely. At the part in his hair, it looked like he was showing...blonde roots?
Harry and Sirius watched as the turbaned one complained loudly about being forced to take the
Hogwarts' Express instead of just Apparating in to Hogsmeade because of the wards installed in a
general lockdown around Hogwarts.
But the first one to notice Harry and Sirius was the good-looking brother. He suddenly stepped
away from the rest of the family and approached Sirius. "You're taller than I thought you'd be."
Sirius blinked. "You a Red Robe?"
The man nodded, not reacting to the old epithet for an Auror. He held his hand out to the former
fugitive. "Shanmukha Patil. Senior Auror. Call me Shane."
Sirius was nonplussed. "Shane? You were one of the ones after me."
Shane nodded. "Never came close. You've got a lot to teach us."
Sirius bristled, but realized that he was now surrounded by Aurors and not one had made a move
against him or even attempted to remove his wand.
Shane gave him a deep look. "We have to talk...later. And don't worry. I was there when Pettigrew
confessed," he said before returning to his sister's bedside.
Sirius put his head down. It finally struck him with full force. 'It's all true,' he thought. The Ministry
pardon that somehow got to him by owl last night was not a hoax or ruse. Remus's letter was
correct. He was free. He was finally free. His gaze rose again to look over at the Patil family and at
20
Shane, the Auror. But instead, his eyes locked with the older sister. She was staring at him with a
thoughtful look. After a moment, she realized what she was doing and suddenly looked away,
blushing slightly. Sirius shook his head and sat down next to Harry to resume talking with his
godson.
***
THE LOVER'S SHOWDOWN
IN THE FORBIDDEN FOREST
By B.Z. Zorch and the staff of the Daily Prophet
HOGWARTS, Sept. 30--It was only supposed to be a quiet tryst away from prying eyes as the lovers
entered the Forbidden Forest surrounding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Little did
they know they were walking into a trap, a rendezvous with Death.
Harry Potter, the brooding, emerald-eyed savior of the wizarding world, and his lover, a sultry
vixen named Parvati Patil, were confronted by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and five of his
minions. Their sole purpose: The death of the two young lovers.
But Potter, who as a mere infant defeated the Dark One, was more than a match for his rival. The
young hero was able to cast a spell so powerful as to immobilize the five Death Eaters who
attacked the duo. Free to confront the Dark Lord, Potter cast a massive spell that immobilized the
creature. "It was like they were enclosed in a globe of energy," says Cho Chang, a fellow Hogwarts
student and member of the Ravenclaw House Quidditch team that, upon seeing the magical
pyrotechnics in the Forbidden Forest, abandoned their practice to come to the aid of Potter and
Patil. "We tried to help, but our spells had no effect," she says.
But it could have been a curse by Patil that spelled doom for You-Know-Who. Somehow, the dark
haired beauty's love for her man managed to overcome the bubble of magical energy, allowing her
to cast an Incendio spell against the Dark One, sending him back to whatever hell he came from,
according to Cyrus Thomas, senior Auror.
Potter and Patil first became lovers at last year's Yule Ball at Hogwarts...
***
Harry heard Parvati's shriek and was on his feet and by her side in an instant, only to be greeted by
the angry stares of several members of the Patil clan.
"Look at what they wrote about us," she cried, clutching at Harry's hospital robe. "It's all lies!" she
screamed, collapsing in tears against Harry's chest.
"This is not a matter for outsiders, Potter. I think you should go," intoned Hanuman.
"Shut up, Monkey," Shane snapped. "You heard Parvati. It's a pack of lies. And I should know. I've
seen enough of their lies about our work," he said harshly.
"Hanuman," Sanjit commanded, and Parvati's second youngest brother shrunk back.
"Yeah," said the young brother with the blond roots. "Hey, Harry. Remember me? We played
against each other in your first year. I was on the Ravenclaw seeker line. Maybe you can help me in
something..."
"Shut up, Gani," Shane warned as several members of the family rolled their eyes.
Sanjit closed his eyes. "Ganapathi, please be quiet for once." Hari simply nodded solemnly over his
father's shoulder.
Harry gave Gani a puzzled look. Wasn't he here in the hospital wing when Gryffindor played
21
Ravenclaw in his first year?
Now several members of the Patil family were chattering back and forth as Sirius came up and put
his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Maybe we should let them all sort things out," he said quietly, once
again noticing Lakshmi staring at him, then looking away.
Harry sighed and gave Parvati a quick peck on the cheek. She glanced up at him with an upset and
exasperated look. "I'll be over there in the corner if you need me," he whispered over the growing
uproar among Parvati's family. "We'll find a way to take care of it."
***
Now alone, Harry looked at his godfather with concern. "You look even thinner than the last time I
saw you. Are you all right?"
Sirius shrugged with a smile. "It was a slow summer," he said quietly. "Mostly staying in place,
watching and waiting. There wasn't much I could do, or was allowed to do, being on the run and all.
That and hearing ominous reports from people like Snape. He's a world-class prat, but I've got to
give him credit. I wouldn't want to hang out with that crowd, never knowing who the next one to be
taken would be and whether that person would be me," he said quietly.
Harry sat down on the bed in the corner and glanced over in amusement as Madame Pomfrey was
trying desperately, and unsuccessfully, to calm the uproar being caused by the Patils in the middle
of the hospital wing.
Then he turned back to his godfather, who had sat at the other end of the bed. Sirius was leaning
back, his eyes closed in what could be exhaustion or, perhaps, relief. Harry looked at the man who
was his closest connection to his long-dead parents. Twelve years in Azkaban and over two years
on the run had taken its toll on his godfather. Sirius's lean, angular, wolfish face was sallow and his
eyes had dark rings under them. He had several days' growth of beard and his dark hair, which now
was showing an occasional gray strand, was lank and hung over his forehead in disarray.
And he looked weary. Not the weariness of too little sleep, but one born of years of dodging,
hiding, looking over one's shoulder. Of too many nights spent sleeping with one eye open on
ground a little too hard and a little too cold. And of too many days spent in the shadows while
others basked in the sunlight.
"Is it finally over?" he muttered, as if to himself.
"No, my friend. I am afraid it is not," came a kindly, familiar voice from just over Harry's shoulder.
Sirius opened his eyes and gave Professor Dumbledore a weary smile. "Hello, Headmaster."
"Sirius," Dumbledore said with a concerned smile and a nod. "I hope you are well. We will do our
best to help you return to the world that betrayed and abandoned you."
Sirius nodded. "Thank you, Albus," he said thoughtfully. "But he's still alive?"
Dumbledore nodded sadly. "One of the nurses kidnapped from St. Mungo's managed to Disapparate
during a lull in treating Voldemort. I'm sure someone will pay dearly for that. She reported that he
has second and third degree burns over more than two-thirds of his body. But he is alive. His
recovery will be long and painful. But recover he shall. And when he does, he will doubtless act
against us again. But we now know more. And will be better prepared for him."
Harry sighed. "What about all those Death Eaters?"
Dumbledore gave a sad nod. "They've gone to ground. My friend, William Masterson at the
Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement, tells me that some 30 Death Eaters have been named by
Peter Pettigrew and Hugh Nott. But only six have been captured. The rest have fled, many with all
22
their assets."
Harry nodded. "Including Lucius Malfoy," he said morosely.
Dumbledore nodded again. "And it appears that he left with some 400,000 Golden Galleons. Aurors
have taken over Malfoy Manor. And there are some very disturbing reports of what has been
found."
Sirius sighed. "So it's not over."
Dumbledore looked at the former fugitive and gave him a wintry smile. "At least now you can fight
in the daylight, my friend. You are free at last."
***
Harry's bored expression turned from one official to the other. There was the Minister of Magical
Law Enforcement William Masterson. He was not a tall man, but he gave off a presence of
someone much larger, with broad shoulders and an intense look. He had close-cropped brown hair
that was beginning to go gray and a small mustache that turned up at the ends in what looked like
the beginnings of a small handlebar. Professor Dumbledore liked and trusted him. Harry wasn't so
sure, as his questions were tough and probing and not always entirely friendly.
Harry did know and did trust Cyrus Jordan, Lee's father. Cyrus had been there for him when he first
moved in with the Strowbridges. And he had been escort and bodyguard to Harry, along with
Hermione, Ron, Fred, George and Ginny, when they rode from Little Whinging to Diagon Alley.
And was there to watch over them until they got to the Hogwarts Express the next day. And he was
there again during the battle in the Forbidden Forest and now here in the hospital wing, heading up
the detail protecting him and Parvati.
Harry leaned back in his chair in the private meeting room that normally served as a lounge for
teachers and hospital wing staff adjacent to the hospital wing itself. He didn't know what to think
about the two other law enforcement figures in the room. They were introduced simply as Byrd and
Callahan. Byrd was a quiet woman of indeterminate age, possibly as young as her late 20s or as old
as her early 40s. She had short, dark brown hair and an quiet intensity as she watched the
proceedings. And Callahan was a pale-faced middle-aged man with no particular distinguishing
characteristics other than that he seemed to be of medium height, medium build with medium
brown hair and seemingly medium intelligence. He simply sat quietly and listened in a detached
manner. Harry knew from a whispered conversation between two of the Aurors on duty that Byrd
and Callahan were Unspeakables.
The final government official was Sejanus Cross, a special assistant to Cornelius Fudge. Cross
reminded Harry of no one as much as Percy Weasley. In his late 20s, Cross gave all the indications
of an officious, humorless, smug bureaucrat, desperately searching for the main chance. And
everyone in the room could see it.
Dumbledore sighed as Cross began speaking again, going over the same territory for the fifth time.
"Now I want this clear for the record. You did not know that you were heading toward the location
in the Forbidden Forest until informed so by the Patil girl immediately before arrival. Is that
correct?"
Harry sighed. "Her name is Parvati."
"Whatever," Cross said absently.
Harry got a mischievous look. "Not Padma Patil. Parvati Patil."
Cross looked up, then went back to his notes, scanning several pages until happening on the
scribbled note. "Yes," he muttered. "Padma is the twin. Parvati is 'subject two' in our investigation."
23
Harry smiled to himself, then feigned a worried expression. "Does that mean Padma is 'subject
one'? I'd hate for her to get in trouble," he said in a concerned voice, bringing smiles from
Dumbledore, Masterson and Cyrus. Byrd and Callahan simply continued to listen.
Cross turned to the first page of his notes, which listed the dramatis personae of his investigation.
"No...Padma Patil is...witness 34. Not terribly relevant as we have established that she had no
contact with subjects 'one' or 'two' in the two days immediately preceding the incident in question.
No, not relevant."
Harry gave an inward chuckle and was about to make another flip remark to Cross when he began
to feel it. His scar.
Harry grabbed the arms of the chair and braced himself. Suddenly the pain hit and his body arched
forward.
And just as suddenly, he felt as if the whole upper part of his body had been stripped of its skin and
that raw nerve endings were being probed. He could just sense the growling scream inside
struggling to surface. He gritted his teeth against the pain and tried to concentrate.
The room was bright. There were several people he did not recognize around him, looking down at
him, all with terrified expressions. He could just make out the mumbling of strained voices. He
began to hear screaming, an incoherent rage and pain being voiced.
Finally one face looked down at him, a face of a middle-aged, balding man that was a mask of fear
and sorrow.
'Drink this. It will ease the pain,' the voice said in a surprisingly soothing manner.
And Harry understood.
"No! Don't drink it!" Harry screamed through his own pain.
Suddenly, the perspective of Harry's vision changed as the head turned away, only intensifying the
pain.
"Don't drink it, you bastard!!!" Harry screamed, feeling his own pain increase, as if the skin was
being ripped from his face and neck. "SUFFER, YOU BASTARD!!! SUFFER!!!"
Harry could feel his head thrashing back and forth to avoid the balding man's ministrations. But a
strong pair of hands gripped his head, causing the pain to shoot through his head and shoulders with
renewed vigor.
Harry could feel the potion being dribbled into the mouth. It wasn't his mouth, but Harry could feel
it. He tried to forcibly spit it out, but he couldn't. Slowly the pain receded. And Harry collapsed.
***
The room slowly came into focus. Harry was not in the lounge, but in a screened-off bed in the
hospital wing. Dumbledore was by his side, and Madame Pomfrey was on his other side, feeling his
forehead with one hand while checking his pulse with the other. He recognized Mercy, one of
Pomfrey's assistants, looking on with concern, holding a couple potions bottles.
Harry closed his eyes again. His scar ached a little, but the searing pain he felt over the rest of his
body was gone.
He opened his eyes slowly again and smiled up at Pomfrey. "Thank you," he said in a soft, hoarse
voice. "I think I'm all right now."
Madame Pomfrey looked down at him. "So you are awake, are you, Mister Potter? And telling me
how to do my job? Well, maybe we should make you head of the hospital wing and let you deal
24
young witches and wizards who seem to know everything except how to keep themselves out of my
ward," she said in a huff, with only a small hint of humor in her voice.
Harry gave her a small smile and turned to Dumbledore, who was watching him carefully. "I do
believe Madame Pomfrey knows what she is doing, Harry," he said softly. "After all, she has been
practicing on you for the past five years or so," he said with a hint of a twinkle in his eye.
Finally, Pomfrey stepped back. "All right, Mister Potter. You seem to be fine. Now drink this...and
all of it, mind you."
Harry slowly rose and grabbed the large beaker containing a nearly clear, pale green fluid. He
recognized it as one of Pomfrey's restorative potions. He took the beaker and drank it down. At least
this potion wasn't too bad. It tasted vaguely of fruit and odd spices and left a chalky aftertaste.
Pomfrey nodded and took the empty beaker. "Now I want you to take this other potion as soon as
the headmaster is through with you," she said, taking one of the vials from Mercy and placing it
next to Harry's bed. Pomfrey turned to Dumbledore. "And see that he does," she told Dumbledore
firmly, and turned and walked away with Mercy at her heels.
Harry watched their retreat and sighed before turning to face Professor Dumbledore.
"You saw Voldemort, didn't you?" Dumbledore said quietly.
Harry simply nodded.
Dumbledore's eyes no longer had their characteristic twinkle as he stared over his half-moon
reading glasses. "You tried to hurt him," he said without a hint of questioning.
Harry looked away and off into the distance. "He was already hurt. I could feel it."
Dumbledore pursed his lips. "What did you feel?"
Harry paused. "My scar hurt. Then it felt like my skin was being ripped from my flesh."
Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed. "The burns," he said flatly.
Harry nodded.
The two sat there in silence for a long time.
Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence. "How bad is he?"
Harry gave a vague shrug. "I felt the pain in my face and neck and all up and down my chest and
back. Maybe more, but those were what hurt the most."
Dumbledore nodded. "But you could breathe."
Harry nodded.
Dumbledore pondered. "That matches up with what the nurse who escaped said. Bad burns. Terrible
burns. A long convalescence. And a painful one. But he will recover provided no infection sets in,"
he said as if to himself. "Did you see anyone else there?"
Harry shrugged. "Some people I didn't recognize. Death Eaters, maybe. And another man.
Balding...maybe a little heavy."
Dumbledore concentrated. "Probably the MediWizard they kidnapped. Dr. Bradbury. A good man,
from what I've heard."
Harry nodded. "He was scared. But he was trying to help."
Dumbledore turned to look intently at Harry. "And you tried to stop him."
Harry frowned. "He was trying to give Voldemort a potion. A pain potion. I tried to get Voldemort
25
to refuse it."
Dumbledore's stare was now even more intent. "Did anything happen?"
Harry paused. "He turned his head away from the potion. A couple times. But they made him drink
it anyway. And the pain went away."
Dumbledore leaned forward and rubbed his hands over his face and eyes. He then leaned back and
looked at Harry again.
"I want you to think, Harry. You've had a couple episodes with your scar like this in the past. Has
Voldemort ever done anything to you? Tried to make you do anything?"
Harry pondered. "No...I just knew my scar hurt. And sometimes I could see things. Things around
him. Like what he was doing. Usually, he was angry. Or pleased. Not like this time. I could see it
all, but couldn't feel anything except the pain...and maybe the anger."
Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Did he know you were there? There with him?"
Harry looked away, thinking. Finally, he shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think so."
"Does he know now?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know."
Dumbledore leaned back on the chair, thinking. Finally, he turned toward Harry. "It may be that
you are connected more closely to Voldemort than we suspected. Or that even he suspects. Maybe
he still doesn't realize it."
Harry watched the headmaster, who continued to think deeply. Finally, Dumbledore leaned very
close to him.
"Harry, whenever you feel another episode like this come on, I want you hold back. I understand
your anger, your hatred of him. But do not do anything. I want you just to observe. Remember
everything. Write everything down. Even the most insignificant detail. And come to me
immediately after it ends. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded.
Dumbledore began to rise, but then stopped and sat down again, leaning forward. "Harry, remember
what we discussed? About how anger can be a tool to focus on what's important? It also can be a
weapon in our enemies' hands. Do not let your anger interfere with our battle against Voldemort. I
know you want to punish him, to hurt him. But don't let your anger overcome the potential of the
weapon you now possess. Because I fear that, if you can affect him through this connection and use
it unwisely, he soon will come to understand it and use it against you. And we will have lost
something invaluable in our battle against him."
Harry nodded an looked away.
"Do you understand, Harry?" Dumbledore said quietly.
Harry nodded again. "Yes, I understand."
***
Narcissa Malfoy was devastated. She had been the grande dame of Slytherin Society, the beautiful
wife of one of the richest and most powerful wizards in the world. It was her payment for putting up
with a loveless and empty marriage.
Now, it was all over. Lucius was a fugitive. All the cash was gone. The Manor in Ministry hands.
And the final blow. No one would agree to take her in. None of her friends. No relatives. Well,
there was that distant cousin who lived in a small flat in Diagon Alley, but she didn't matter. She
26
was a nobody.
But now Narcissa paused. If Carmina Malfoy Delaney was a nobody, what of Narcissa Malfoy? No
money. No name. No friends. Nothing.
Eighteen years of marriage, a marriage arranged, but one she embraced. And then the shock of
reality. The powerful, sharp-faced young man who she knew and dated from Hogwarts now saw her
simply as another possession, as if she were just another robe in his closet. He was away more than
at home and, even when he was at the Manor, seemed absent from her life more than present.
She felt like a courtesan of a lesser class, there for his pleasure when he wanted her, on his arm
when he needed it ornamented with her presence, a brood mare for dynastic purposes, but otherwise
simply a fixture not to be noticed unless needed for the moment only to be forgotten immediately
afterward.
Her reward: The Manor. The Wealth. The fear and envy of those in whose circles she traveled.
And now all those rewards had evaporated.
All was lost. Everything.
So in a cramped, dingy room in an inn not three miles from Malfoy Manor, Narcissa Malfoy
pressed her wand against her chest and uttered the curse quietly: Avada Kedavra.
Her last thoughts were of missed chances and riches lost.
Somehow, in her despair, she overlooked her son, Draco Malfoy.
***
"Harry," Shane whispered in the now nearly empty hospital wing.
Harry started. For most of the afternoon, he had been pondering the implications of what the
Headmaster had told him. Even after a nap and his return to the hospital bed next to Parvati, even
sitting there holding her hand, he could think of little else.
Harry looked up at the Auror who seemed to have a small, conspiratorial smile on his face. Harry
didn't know what to think. Was it a friendly smile? Or one that Aurors used just before bringing the
dementors in.
Shane Patil chuckled at the look on Harry's face. Then Harry noticed Cyrus Jordan sit down next to
Shane. He relaxed a little.
Shane nodded and Parvati came over and sat next to Harry on the bed.
Shane pursed his lips and turned to Cyrus, giving him a raised eyebrow. Cyrus nodded and began to
speak.
"Shane tells me that the Daily Prophet has implied some things in their reporting that aren't true
about you two."
Harry looked wide-eyed at Parvati, and both turned to nod.
Cyrus looked closely at the couple. "You aren't sleeping together?"
Harry and Parvati both went crimson.
Shane cleared his throat. "You don't have to answer that," he said mildly.
"We're not!" Harry squeaked, now convinced that he would be cursed to kingdom come by Shane
any minute now.
Shane chuckled again at Harry's and Parvati's frightened faces. "Don't worry. I'm the last one to tell
27
Parvati how she should run her life. But then, she isn't the one who would face Monkey's knife," he
said with an evil smile.
"Shut up!" Parvati exclaimed. "I thought you hid that stupid dagger."
By now, Shane was laughing.
Parvati turned to Harry. "We all think Hanuman likes to pretend to be a Sikh just so he can wear
that stupid ceremonial dagger. Daddy's furious. He says it's disrespectful to real Sikhs and an
embarrassment to the family."
Shane smiled. "Dad's right. But don't worry. Monkey will find something new to obsess on shortly.
He's been a Sikh now for what, almost a year?"
Harry was still looking back and forth between Shane and Parvati in anxious confusion.
At this point, Cyrus stepped in again. "Look, Harry. We run into bad press all the time. Mostly lies
or exaggerations. So what we do is go to a friendly reporter, or at least one who will be friendly for
an exclusive, and give them an irresistible story to get our own message across."
Harry looked at Cyrus, completely befuddled.
He gave Harry and Parvati a broad smile. "Look, the Daily Prophet has planted the notion in the
minds of their readers that you were off to the Forbidden Forest for a quick shag..."
Shane gave an involuntary snort, but otherwise remained silent.
Cyrus gave him a quick glance and then resumed. "But you weren't. So let's find a friendly reporter
who can get the truth out there. And there's no better way to do that than giving that friendly
reporter an exclusive. As long as you make sure you have some control over what gets printed."
Harry and Parvati looked at each other. "Are reporters allowed to do that?" he asked.
Cyrus chuckled. "Maybe not in the Muggle world, son. But here, anything goes."
Parvati looked intently at Cyrus. "Could we get a better picture of me in the papers? That one in the
Daily Prophet, with this horrible bandage on my face," she sniffed. "I look like a hag after a brawl."
Shane laughed and Cyrus nodded.
"But who would do this?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.
Cyrus smiled. "There's no one better than Rita Skeeter."
28
CHAPTER 3 I'LL GET THEM
***
Calvin Curtis sat quietly in his office in the back room on the second floor of the Diagon Alley
Gladrags store, the flagship store of his retail empire. He looked again at the newspaper reports of
the downfall of the now notorious fugitive from justice, Lucius Malfoy. And he sighed with a sense
of disquiet. Calvin Curtis was a long-time acquaintance of Lucius Malfoy from the days when they
were classmates at Hogwarts. And Curtis owed much of his current good fortune to the influence of
Lucius Malfoy and the Malfoy family.
All of this didn't mean Curtis and Malfoy were friends. Quite the contrary. Calvin hated Lucius.
And always did. But Lucius did provide Calvin with little bits of help here and there, often
unsolicited. And Calvin knew he owed Lucius. It was a Wizard's Debt. And Calvin knew what that
meant.
He knew that he might be approached to help the fugitive. And that kind of aid he could not give.
Not for a friend. And certainly not for Lucius.
But what of the debt?
It weighed heavy on the retailer's soul as he continued to read the reports in the Daily Prophet. Then
he saw it. Right below reports of the disappearance of all of Malfoy's liquid assets from Gringotts
and the freezing of all identifiable assets of the Malfoy Estate by the Ministry of Magical Law
Enforcement was a paragraph on the future of Lucius' son, Draco.
Calvin Curtis knew Draco Malfoy. He seemed an insufferable little git, a true Malfoy. But now his
future was uncertain. With no money, one parent dead and another a fugitive from justice wanted
for attempting unforgivable curses on private citizens and Aurors, the boy had nothing.
And Calvin Curtis smiled. A favor to a wizard to help in business ventures incurred a wizarding
debt. But a personal favor to a wizard's family in time of desperate need canceled all debts and
created new ones. He decided in an instant. He knew on this he didn't have to consult his wife. She
hated Lucius and Narcissa with as much passion as he did. And it would not be a great burden on
the family finances. No, he would do it now. He slowly opened the drawer of his desk and pulled
out a personal parchment and placed it on his desk. After careful thought, he committed quill to
parchment.
Dear Headmaster Dumbledore:
I have read with chagrin of the actions of my classmate, Lucius Malfoy. As a fellow Slytherin, I feel
that his actions have reflected poorly on our House and on the institution of Hogwarts in general.
I feel it is incumbent on the alumni of Slytherin House to take actions to support the institution of
Hogwarts and of our beloved House and all they stand for to show that the actions of one do not
reflect upon the character of all.
I have pondered this for some time. And I feel that one way for this member of the Slytherin House
Alumni Association to make a positive contribution to Hogwarts and to wizarding society in
general is to establish a scholarship program for needy but deserving members of society who may
not otherwise have the wherewithal to attend Hogwarts.
I therefore am enclosing a note, payable to Hogwarts, in an amount sufficient to support one
student for the equivalent of one seven-year course of studies at Hogwarts. I make only one
condition to your acceptance of this note: That the recipient of the scholarship, for the remainder of
29
his stay at Hogwarts, be one Draco Malfoy. I do believe that this student now is in financial straits
and will need support from someone outside of his family in order to continue his education.
I do this in the belief that the sins of the father not be visited heavily on the son. Just as I, in the
past, was afforded the opportunity to develop and prosper thanks to my experiences at Hogwarts
and the friends I made there, I hope that the young gentleman be provided with an opportunity to
redeem his family name and become a credit to the institution to which he owes so much.
With all the regards of a true Slytherin,
Calvin Curtis,
CEO/Gladrags Enterprises Ltd.
***
Word began to circulate quickly around Hogwarts. The school was still reeling and partying over
what some members of the Ministry of Magic, including Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic,
and the newspapers had trumpeted as the final destruction of Voldemort and his corps of Death
Eaters. But now came a new revelation. Harry Potter did the deed, the quiet, strange Gryffindor,
long looked at as a mythic hero from their youth, who people only this year began to notice more as
he seemed to be a little less remote. But now word was spreading that it was not just Harry, but his
house mate, Parvati Patil.
Students looked at each other and laughed uproariously. Harry Potter and Parvati Patil, looking for
some place to shag, ended up saving the wizarding world. 'The Lovers' Showdown in the Forbidden
Forest' story from the Daily Prophet was taken up as a mantra among students from every house.
Even in Slytherin, a majority of the students huddled and chuckled in relief and amusement that an
assignation could end so spectacularly.
But not everyone shared the joy. Draco Malfoy was devastated by the disgrace of his now fugitive
father. He feared his father, but was unprepared for his death. A visit from Professors Dumbledore
and Snape to reassure him that he would not be forced to pay for the sins of his father as far as they
were concerned was no solace. The one constant in his life, albeit a brutal one, had fled in disgrace.
And now the name Malfoy, always despised, was no longer feared.
By Monday morning, Draco received a second blow. Aurors had descended on Malfoy Manor and,
after a thorough search, found extraordinary caches of evidence and implements of the dark arts.
Within hours, the Ministry had locked down and installed wards around the Manor, forcing his
mother to move to an inn with little more than the clothes on her back. By midnight, she was dead
of a self-inflicted death curse.
It was now Tuesday morning. Classes had been canceled for a second day to give teachers and
students alike the opportunity to recover from their celebrations. But Draco was up early, not being
able to sleep and unwilling to simply lie there.
So he sat on his bed, watching with blank eyes. He barely registered the absence of two of his
roommates, Glenn Greinglass, the Jew and grandson of a Mudblood who was probably with his
twin sister in the common room, and Aubrey Blythe, the shopkeeper's son and a person of no
notice, pureblood or not. Instead, he just stared as Crabbe and Goyle packed.
Draco blinked. "When will you be back?" he asked in a small, far-away voice.
Goyle turned, his eyes red from crying. "Probably never," he managed to croak out. Crabbe, his
pudding bowl haircut matted with sweat, simply stared numbly.
"Never?" Draco said in a child-like voice.
Crabbe looked down and scratched his head. "My mum says that dad is going to be all right. But
30
he'll be going away for a long time. Azkaban, most likely. So no money for school. No money at
all. Got to go to work to support my mum and the little one," he grunted out, one of his longest
monologues ever.
A tear slid down Goyle's cheek. "My dad's going down, too. They caught him last night before he
had a chance to pack. Me and my brother are going to have to support the family from now on. No
more Quidditch. No more fun. Ever."
Draco gave a quick nod, his eyes still vacant. "I can stay. Dumbledore said I can stay. I don't think I
want to. But I've got no place left to go," he said blankly.
Crabbe snapped closed his trunk. "Gotta go, Draco."
Goyle hung his head.
"I'm gonna miss you, Draco. I don't know what I'll do without you around to help." Goyle slowly
held out his hand.
Draco looked at Goyle's outstretched hand blankly. Suddenly he blinked. He reached out and shook
it. He then looked up at Crabbe. The boy shuffled over and then held out his hand and shook
Draco's. "See ya," he grunted.
Crabbe hoisted his trunk and left, but Goyle paused. "Owl me if you get the chance, okay?"
Draco looked at Goyle. "I'll get them, Gregory."
Goyle hung his head and departed.
As the door to the dormitory closed, Draco hung his head, as well. And he cried. He cried for his
mother.
***
Madame Pomfrey bustled over and scowled at Harry and Parvati. "Now, I'm not your mother...oh,
sorry Mister Potter. As I was saying, I'm not here to tell you how to run your lives. But I think what
you two are doing is foolishness," she said in a huff. "However, if you continue along in such a
manner, it leaves me no choice. Miss Patil, I want you to take this potion. That will protect you
from unnecessary complications for at least the next six months. You can come back at the end of
February and I will give you another. There is a margin for error, but to be safe, I'll owl you then."
Parvati dutifully took the small vial and drank it, making a face at its bitter almond taste. "What is
this for?" she asked meekly.
Pomfrey put her hands on her hips with a frown. "It's a contraceptive potion, of course," she said as
she turned on her heels and bustled off.
***
Professor Moody's magic eye drifted lazily around the hospital wing, but his good eye darted back
and forth between Harry, and Parvati, who was busy across the ward, talking and giggling with her
sister Padma and Lavender Brown.
"Aye, she is a bonnie lass, young Potter. Don' blame yeh. Not a't'all," Moody said with a quiet
cackle. "But young lassies can be yer downfall, yeh ken?"
Harry blinked in absolute befuddlement. "She's...she's my girlfriend. I'm allowed to have a
girlfriend, aren't I?"
Moody's face screwed up into what passed for a smile. "Aye, laddie. The more, the merrier. So I'm
gonna give yeh two words to keep in mind. Graviditas negans."
Harry shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand."
31
"Graviditas negans. Say it, Harry."
Harry shrugged. "Graviditas negans."
"Aye. I'll write it down so yeh dinna forget."
"But Professor. What does it mean?" Harry asked.
Moody cackled again. "It'll keep yeh from planting a wee one in yer lassie's belly." Moody's face
suddenly rearranged its scars into a more serious vein. "And watch yerself. Poppy is on the side of
the angels, but know what yer drinking from her hands. I'll not put it past her to try taking the ink
out of yer quill, if yeh take my meaning."
***
"Miss Patil. Mister Potter. I hope you realize the potential trouble you two could get yourselves
into," McGonagall said with a stern look on her face as she sat in a chair between the two beds.
"And you, Mister Potter, are a prefect. You should know better."
Harry's head was spinning. 'What now?' he thought.
"What you are doing is potentially grounds for expulsion and, given your ages, possibly illegal. I
hope you've given that a lot of thought."
McGonagall now turned to Harry. "I have a good mind to write your guardians, Mister Potter. I am
sure Reverend Strowbridge would be very interested in hearing about your behavior!"
Parvati was now staring at Harry, who turned to her with confused and frightened eyes.
"Now off with you, Mister Potter! I have things to discuss with Miss Patil."
Harry scurried off to the corner where Sirius was now asleep. But he just could hear McGonagall as
she sat down with Parvati, her features softening.
"Miss Patil, I can understand your feelings. I recall feeling the same urges in mae prime.
Sean...Mister McGonagall cut quite a figure himself..." she said, a sudden wistful look on her face.
Suddenly, she cleared her throat. "Be that as it may, we were a wee bit older. So I would advise you
two to behave yourselves. However..." and the old woman took a quick look around the hospital
wing to make sure no one else was within earshot. "I would advise you to learn the Graviditas
negans charm," she whispered.
Harry, only 15 feet away, gave a sudden snort, earning a sharp look from McGonagall.
McGonagall turned back to Parvati. "Very good, Miss Patil. And see that you use it," she said
firmly. "Both of you!" she said over her shoulder, making sure Harry got the message, as well.
***
Snape looked down his nose at Harry, trying to look stern while looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Mister Potter. Miss Patil. I presume Madame Pomfrey discussed with you two the Impeditio
Graviditas potion." He suddenly shifted his weight uncomfortably.
Parvati looked up at the Potions' Master, trying to stifle a grin. "She didn't tell us its name. Does it
taste like bitter almonds?"
Snape shifted again. "So I have been told," he said stiffly. Then he turned to Harry. "For you, Mister
Potter, I would suggest an Imbecillitas potion, although I doubt you would appreciate it."
Harry now was fighting a laugh. "I prefer ink in my quill, Professor."
Snape suddenly blushed noticeably. "Very well," he snapped and turned on his heel a strode out of
the hospital wing.
32
Harry and Parvati turned to each other and burst out laughing.
"Why is it that everyone knows about our sex lives except us?" she whispered with a giggle.
Harry blushed a furious color, earning a tender kiss on the cheek from Parvati, who now, along with
Harry, was considered one of the most notorious sex symbols in the wizarding world. One who,
little more than 72 hours before, was playing with her favorite unicorn, Snowflake.
***
"She's on the move," Ben Watson whispered to Cyrus Jordan.
Cyrus looked around the hospital wing for anything out of place and nodded, then casually
sauntered out into the hallway, hitching his robe with the two red chevrons up a little.
"Hey Cy, anything new? When can we see them?" Bozo Zorch asked casually.
Cyrus glared at the diminutive reporter. He didn't allow anyone to call him 'Cy,' much less a little
prat like Zorch. "No Bozo," he said with a growl. "But I'll tell you what. As soon as all the real
reporters get through, we'll see if we can fit in a question or two from you. No promises, though."
Cyrus ignored Zorch's angry look, and the titters from the rest of the remaining press camped
outside the hospital wing, and strode down the hall in the direction that Rita Skeeter took moments
before.
Cyrus had just rounded the bend in the hallway when he saw her jiggling a door to what appeared to
be an office and removing a pin from her hair. "No, Rita," he said in a firm voice.
She turned casually with a faint smile. "Just looking for a toilet that I don't have to share with that
godforsaken ghost, Myrtle."
Cyrus gave her a knowing smile. "Well, there's no toilet in there. That's where the students hold
their sex orgies."
This time, Rita let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, I wish. That's a story I could sell." Then she looked at
Cyrus through her huge, goggle-like glasses. "So what is it? You didn't follow me down here to
check the ladies' rooms."
Cyrus gave her a knowing smile. "Oh, just wondering how you were doing."
Rita's eyes narrowed. "What is it this time? You want a story? Some puff piece on the brutal,
thankless life of an Auror? Well, forget about it. I'm out of a job and I couldn't sell one of those
pieces even to OddBins. Not even if I threw in a ten-sickle word every other sentence. So get
yourself another shill."
Cyrus smiled. "No, Rita. Nothing like that. I was just talking to a friend, and your name happened to
come up."
Skeeter cocked her head, making her eyes distort a little more through her thick lenses. "Well you're
obviously looking to unburden. So talk."
Cyrus gave her a wry look. "Well, I just got off the floo with Bernie Castle."
Rita's eyes widened. "Bernie Castle? As in Witch Weekly Bernie Castle?"
Cyrus nodded. "It seems he would be willing to pay...oh, suppose...350 galleons to a reporter who
came in with the first, and exclusive, interview with Potter and Patil."
Rita sucked in a breath. That was nearly two months' pay at the Prophet. It would keep the
werewolves from the door and would be just the thing to get her name circulating again as a
reporter in the wizarding world. She gave Cyrus a wary look. "What's this going to cost me? Don't
tell me you want a piece of the paycheck."
33
Cyrus suddenly glared at Skeeter. "I have never taken a knut on this job," he said icily. "And none
of my people have ever taken a knut on the job. Maybe I was wrong to talk to you," he said, now
angry.
Rita suddenly panicked, but tried not to show it. "Wait, Cyrus," she said quickly but coolly. "I know
you and yours all abide by the 'Wee Wizards and Witches' oath. Clean, honest, reverent, and all
that. I just want to know what the conditions are, that's all."
Cyrus slowly turned back to her, his eyes narrowed. "It's easy, Skeeter. Straight interview.
Background interviews with the parties directly involved in the event. All supervised. No 'unnamed
sources close to the bottom.' No sly innuendo. No slime, no dirt, no trash. Just two young kids who
were just beginning to discover romance faced with the greatest horror of the age and who lived to
tell about it. The story sells itself, without all the peripheral stuff. Castle wants 4,000 words. You
know their readership. You could write it in your sleep. We supply the pictures. Photography
doesn't come out of your cut. A straight 350 galleons. Take it or leave it."
Rita knew she would take it. But she paused as if to consider. Then Cyrus turned. "You were our
first choice. Zorch is our last choice. But there are four other reporters down the hall, and about 50
more within a quick owl from here." Cyrus now turned his back on Skeeter and began to walk back
to the hospital wing.
"I'll take it," she said in a rush. "And you'll forget the insect?" she said, hoping to finally get out
from under the potential charge of being an illegal animagus.
Cyrus stopped and looked over his shoulder. "No, Rita. It's 350 galleons. We'll forget about the
insect if and when the insect leaves and never returns," he said with a smug expression.
Rita closed her eyes in disappointment. Then she shrugged. 'Oh, well. It was worth the try,' she
thought. 'And 350 galleons was 350 galleons.'
***
Ron quietly made his way toward the hospital wing with his sister Ginny in tow. He turned to her.
"The Aurors know me by now. I think it'll be okay. Just stay with me."
Ginny looked up at her brother with anxiety in her eyes. She nodded.
Ron stopped by an empty stretch of corridor between two suits of armor on the floor below the
hospital wing. "Tangello," he whispered. The hidden door opened and the two entered.
The room was basically a medical storage area. But it did have a second door that opened to a
stairwell that led to the staff area of the hospital wing. The two Weasleys climbed the stairs to
another door, which Ron opened. He approached one of Madame Pomfrey's assistants, a young
witch named Mercy. Mercy raised her eyebrows.
"My sister, Ginny. She's a good friend," he said quietly.
Mercy nodded in sudden recognition. "The basilisk, right?" she said in an even tone.
Ginny nodded.
Mercy returned the nod. "I remember." She disappeared into the hospital wing, returning moments
later. "Okay, but be quiet and don't tell anyone about the door," she said to Ginny, motioning her
head toward the supply room.
Ginny nodded solemnly, and Ron led her into the wing.
She noticed a couple students in the beds near the entrance. Ron nodded at one. "Peter."
Peter, his arm in a sling charmed to immobilize it, smiled. "Still here. Too much partying on
34
Saturday night. The elbow's still sore but the bone is knitting nicely, according to Pomfrey. But I
don't know. It can't seem to decide whether to be sore or just sit there and itch," he said with a
smile.
Ron smiled. "I don't want to know what you and Paul were doing on top of the entrance archway.
You're lucky you didn't break your neck," he said with a smile.
Ron began to walk down the aisle when Ginny gave his arm a tug. "Who's that?"
Ron stopped. "Peter George. Fifth year Ravenclaw. He and his mate Paul Manwaring were dancing
on the ledge above the entranceway arch when Peter fell and broke his elbow. He's nuts," he said
with a smile.
Ron resumed his walk down to the end of the aisle. As they rounded the privacy curtain, Ron
laughed. "Snog alert. No one under 15 may witness what is going on here." Ginny blushed
furiously.
Harry was lying on his back under the covers, propped up on his pillows. Parvati was lying next to
him on her side on top of the blanket, leaning her head on her elbow. The couple was obviously just
chatting, but Parvati had her right hand resting on Harry's stomach. The couple looked up and
smiled at Ron, then noticed Ginny.
"Hey, Ginny," Harry said with a smile. "Great to see you."
Ginny stared at the couple wide-eyed, forcing herself to put on a half smile. She felt a little sick to
see her long-term crush lying there so comfortably in the bed with another girl. "Hi, Harry," she
managed to croak out.
Harry slowly pushed himself into a more upright position, still being careful of the burns on his
hand. "Ron, stop being a troll and grab a chair for your sister," he said with a laugh.
Ron made a face at Harry and gave Ginny a look and stepped around the curtain to grab a couple
chairs.
"Hello, Ginny," Parvati said with a smile.
Ginny continued to force a smile. "Hi."
Parvati saw Ginny's surprise and disappointment. She looked back at Harry as she thought about the
hurt Ginny must be feeling. She knew of the young girl's longstanding crush on Harry. But it
couldn't be helped.
Harry looked back at Parvati and suddenly understood what both girls were thinking. Harry closed
his eyes and sighed. "Ginny, come here," he said, giving her a soft smile.
Ginny timidly rose and approached Harry's side of the bed. Harry sat up and reached up and gave
her a hug. "Thanks, Ginny, for always being there, worrying and caring. For always being my
friend."
Ginny leaned into the hug, and sighed deeply. But when Harry gave her a couple gentle pats on the
back, she slowly stood back up, a sad smile on her face. "I'm so glad you're all right," she
whispered, fighting a barely winning battle against tears. "It's over, at last, thanks to you...and
Parvati," she said gulping. "You're free at last," she whispered.
Harry sighed. "Maybe not," he said quietly.
Ron placed his hand on his sister's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You going to be all right?" he
whispered in her ear.
Ginny nodded and, regaining her composure, sat down. "We were so worried when you were
35
brought in," she said hoarsely. "We didn't know what to think."
Harry closed his eyes and nodded, taking Ginny's hand. "I know, Ginny. And I'm sorry to cause you
so much anxiety," he said softly, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.
Ginny shivered and lowered her head. The rest of the visit passed with her barely hearing what was
said. She did glance up a couple times to see Parvati watching her with concerned eyes. Ginny also
noticed Parvati's arm tighten possessively around Harry's middle. And Ginny noticed as Harry, after
a slight squirm, gave Parvati a smile and placed his hand around her shoulder affectionately. Harry
was lost.
Parvati watched Ginny closely as she leaned even closer against Harry. Then she saw something.
Ginny sighed and the cloud over her face seemed to dissipate just a little. Ginny looked up again
and caught Parvati's eye. The young girl's face still showed disappointment, but there was
something else there. Acceptance. Parvati's nervous smile softened as the two girls seemed to
connect. And now she knew that Ginny understood that there Parvati bore her no malice. And
Ginny gave her own soft resigned smile. The two girls gave each other a nod that was not
perceptible either to Harry or Ron. Harry wasn't lost. It was just that someone else had found him,
Ginny now realized.
Ginny straightened her shoulders as Ron rose to leave. She smiled at Harry and nodded again to
Parvati and stepped in front of Ron. And as she walked out of the hospital wing, Ron noticed that
his sister, for the first time in several days, had her head up and was striding resolutely.
***
Bernard Castle, the editor of Witch Weekly, had been skeptical. Stan Winston, the art director of
Witch Weekly was downright hostile to the idea. But Rita Skeeter and publisher Marcel Voleur
insisted.
"A fourteen year old?" Winstead harrumphed.
Castle nodded, solemnly. "That's the deal. You saw that trash that covered Daily Prophet? Grainy.
Barely in focus. No movement. That Bozo that they've got on their payroll is the worst. He even
works freelance for OddBins. If that doesn't tell you all you need to know, I don't know what does.
Hell, he's a better writer than he is a photographer."
Winstead rolled his eyes. "I know. I've seen his portfolio. He'd be lucky to get work for Alohamora
except for his relationship with that Skeeter witch," he said, shaking his head.
Castle nodded. "So that's the deal. We get an exclusive interview with Potter and this girl Patil only
if we let this Creevey kid do the photography and they pick the cover shot...the girl, apparently."
Winston shrugged. "At least she's pretty."
"Very pretty," Castle said with an absent smile. "Could be worth a few extra copies on that basis
alone."
Winston rolled his eyes. "Come on. She's okay. But I wouldn't even put her in the top ten this year
for cover girls."
Castle stared at Winston. "She's not one of your vapid models! She's real. And she's only fifteen
years old. The readers will eat it up." Castle chuckled. "Not that it matters. I'm doing a double run
on this issue, anyway. The first, and exclusive, interview with the lovers who defeated You Know
Who. Hmmm. 'The Kiss Interrupted by Death.' I think we've got the cover line," Castle said,
chuckling. "Get Skeeter!" he called out to his editorial assistant.
"Well, maybe with a little wand work, the kid's stuff may pass..." Winston muttered.
36
***
Colin Creevey was so excited, he was practically bouncing in his chair in the waiting room of
Weekly World Publications. He had been in love with photography since he and his brother and his
parents returned from a Brighton holiday when he was seven. His father returned home from work a
few days later with four sleeves of photos. Suddenly, the fun they all had at the beach that was
beginning to fade into memory was brought vividly back to life.
Until then, Colin took the pictures in newspapers and magazines for granted. They were just there
as decoration. Some were funny, some were pretty, but they had no particular meaning to him.
Now, he saw photography as an adjunct to memory, preserving the wonderful feelings and
experiences of life for review to savor at leisure. And he was hooked.
When he and his family discovered Colin was a wizard, Colin was delighted. Now he had an
explanation for all the odd things that happened around him and his little brother, Dennis. But he
immediately went into a panic. Could he still use a camera? Then, on his first trip to Diagon Alley,
he discovered that cameras were not only available in the wizarding world, but could do things no
Muggle photographer ever could imagine. He was ecstatic.
Almost as ecstatic as he was now. Harry Potter, Colin's hero and friend, had asked him to take his
and Parvati's pictures for Witch Weekly. Including the cover! And he would be paid, too. Twenty
five galleons for the cover shot and five galleons each for interior shots. He had devoured numerous
copies of Witch Weekly from Lavender's collection, not for stories or the serials, but for the layouts
and the type of photos they preferred.
He had made a real nuisance out of himself in the hospital wing, hauling in large mirrors and
torches for light and ordering everyone around like a Muggle film director. He had taken over 100
photos during the session, including Harry and Parvati together and alone, along with Madame
Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore. The Aurors, however, begged off.
But Colin spent most of his film on Parvati. Colin had a longstanding crush on her and worked
tirelessly and lovingly on making sure she came off at her best. He smiled sadly, realizing that he
couldn't compete with his friend Harry for Parvati, but at least he could make her as beautiful as
possible for this photo spread.
"Creevey? Colin Creevey?" came the voice disturbing his reverie.
He looked up at a beefy wizard calling his name.
Colin looked up at the smiling florid face. "Yes?"
The heavy, balding wizard held out a huge hand. "Marcel Voleur, publisher of Witch Weekly and
Teen Witch Weekly," the man said heartily. "Come on in."
Colin followed Voleur into the staff area of the magazines. He saw several witches and wizards in
small cubicles, some talking in low tones or using the dicta-quills to compose stories and some
reviewing parchments. There were several empty cubicles, as well. All were surrounding a large
open area with manuscripts and wizarding photos scattered on long tables or floating back and forth
and affixing themselves to the far wall displaying the layout of this week's issue.
One witch with long tangled hair was complaining bitterly to an elegant looking middle aged
wizard with silver black hair. "...I don't care. Do you know how dangerous phony mandrake roots
can be to glamour potions!" she cried. "That should be the lead! Not some rehash of You-KnowWho!"
The elegant wizard rolled his eyes. "You've got three pages with photos. It's the second lead. What
more can you ask for?"
37
"It will be buried...!!!" she screamed and stalked off.
The elegant wizard turned and saw Colin. "Well, is this the boy genius?" he said with a broad smile.
He turned to the corner of the office. "Stan! He's here!"
A thin young wizard with a pony tail and wearing dragon hide slacks turned and smiled.
"Bernard Castle, editor in chief of Witch Weekly," the elegant wizard said, walking up to Colin, his
hand extended.
Colin looked at him and around the office, his eyes wide. "Uhhh, Colin Creevey, sir," he said,
clearly overwhelmed.
"Colin, meet Stan Winston," Castle said with a smile. "He's more important than I am as far as
you're concerned. He's the one that buys the photos and assigns the photographers around here."
There was suddenly a rude noise coming from one of the cubicles. Colin turned and saw the witch
with the tangled hair staring. "Only after consulting with the reporters, he does," she said with an
angry expression.
Castle waved her off. "Yes, Sadie. We know....Now where's Rita?"
"Right here, chief," said a tall, thin woman with a pinched face and oversized glasses as she strode
up to the group.
"Rita," Castle nodded. "And don't call me chief," he said with a scowl. "Rita Skeeter, Colin
Creevey, photographer."
Rita nodded. "Let's see the photos," she said with resignation.
Stan pulled out a large folder and began to spread Colin's photos out on the long table.
Rita gasped. "Is that the unicorn?"
Colin nodded. "It's not as recent as I would like. I took it a couple months ago. I've got a whole
portfolio of unicorns taken from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Parvati identified these three as
her Snowflake," he said with calm professionalism.
Rita turned to stare at Colin. "Do you know how rare photos of unicorns are?"
Colin gave a half shrug. "I've gotten about 60 photos of maybe 12 to 15 different ones singly and in
pairs."
This time, Stan looked at Colin. "You're kidding. That must have taken forever."
Colin shrugged again. "I take photos of all sorts of things in the Forbidden Forest. Mostly, flowers
and nature still-lifes. But I really like the unicorns and whenever I see one, I take the shot. There's
one area, around where Harry and Parvati fought Voldemort, where they like to come out and graze
and sun themselves."
The group were now looking at Colin with new respect. "One of these days, I'd like to see your
collection," Stan said softly.
"This one!" Rita exclaimed. It was a shot of Harry in an armchair, looking pensive, his burned hand
dangling over the side of the chair's arm.
"Too serious. Not enough movement," Marcel complained.
Bernard, Stan and Rita looked up at the publisher with wide eyes. "Max, you wouldn't know a good
photo if it rose up and grabbed you," Stan complained.
The publisher grimaced. "It's Marcel. I told you. I changed it. Legally," he complained.
38
"Max Vole is now Marcel Voleur," Rita whispered to Colin, rolling her eyes. "Too bad he couldn't
change his personality. Legally."
The group went on to choose some more photos. There was one of Parvati leaning back against
Harry with Harry's arms around her waist on a hospital settee. And another of Parvati talking in an
animated manner to someone off camera. Another shot of Harry and Parvati all dressed up at last
year's Yule Ball. And a brooding shot of Parvati, looking darkly beautiful as if reliving the pain of
her encounter with the Dark Lord.
"Now the cover shot," said Bernard.
At this point, some of the other reporters and the rest of the art department staff gathered around the
table. Many exclaimed over the quality of the photos. Colin flushed with pleasure.
"Colin. What kind of camera did you use?" Stan asked.
Colin shrugged. "I've got an old Zauberblad 240 charmed to flash."
"Lighting?" Stan asked. "Parabolic mirrors?"
Colin laughed. "No. Regular full-length dressing mirrors and hospital bed sheets as reflectors."
Stan started. "You're kidding? You managed these without any equipment?"
Colin shrugged, smiling broadly.
"Kid, when school lets out, come see me. I may have some work for you," Stan said with a smile.
Voleur leaned forward to whisper in Colin's ear. "Let me see your portfolio. You could make some
money with some of your mood shots," he said softly. "Just let me borrow it for a while."
Colin nodded, smiling widely, handing his thick portfolio over to the publisher.
The editorial group finally settled on a cover shot of Harry and Parvati together looking at each
other and then embracing, with Parvati's face turned toward the camera. "She is lovely," Rita said
levelly.
Bernard gave her a half smile. "You better sheath those talons, Rita. You-Know-Who killed, what, a
dozen of his followers to absorb their magic and he still couldn't stop Potter. I wouldn't want to be
his enemy," he said coolly.
Rita sighed and nodded. "I guess I learned a lesson about being on the wrong side of that crowd,"
she said, rubbing her eyes under her glasses.
Stan chuckled. "Don't want to go back to that one room suite in a mason jar, eh, Rita," he said with
a laugh.
Rita glared at the art director. "Oh, shut up. That only goes to prove it," she said, giving Stan's pony
tail a yank.
"Proves what," he said, still chuckling.
"That under every pony tail is a horse's ass."
***
It was Tuesday evening and Harry and Parvati were exhausted.
They had spent a good portion of Monday morning posing for Colin Creevey and over an hour in
the early afternoon with Rita Skeeter, under the watchful eyes of Sirius Black, Shane Patil, and a
seeming phalanx of Aurors.
The Aurors, whatever comfort they provided to Harry and Parvati, did tend to make Rita's questions
39
just a little less probing than perhaps they might otherwise be. And when she concluded her
interview, Shane nodded to her with a knowing smile, as he picked up his wand. "Thank you Rita.
Now we both have a recording of your interview."
Rita frowned at Shane. "Listen, handsome. You didn't have to do that."
Shane shrugged with a wry smile. "Just in case your Recordo-Quill ran out of ink."
No one paid attention as Rita, before she exited the hospital wing, paused an gave Harry a long,
speculative look.
Monday evening was no better, with several more interviews with Sejanus Cross, who was
someone less officious in his interview with Harry after yesterday's events with Harry's scar and
Voldemort.
Tuesday morning was taken up with a press conference in the Great Hall at Hogwarts at the side of
Cornelius Fudge, who dominated it with such platitudes as "We have the situation regarding YouKnow-Who well in hand," and taking credit for assigning Aurors to protect "innocent young
students like our Harry and Parvati."
After one last set of 'interviews' by law enforcement and Ministry officials, and one last quick
checkup by Madame Pomfrey, Harry and Parvati were finally cleared to return to Gryffindor
Tower. They had not even had time to move the privacy curtains in place to change into their
uniforms, when word got out and two tiny first-year bundles of energy, Willie Peters and Maura
Duffy, went streaking in a blur back to the Gryffindor Tower with the advance warning that Harry
and Parvati were on their way
***
Hermione lay in her bed. She couldn't go down to the Common Room. She just couldn't. Not with
all the hustle and bustle of preparations, all those eyes turned in her direction, all questioning,
speculating, laughing.
No. When Harry...and Parvati--she managed to think the name without a grimace or tear for the first
time in three days--finally made their appearance, she would go down and show her colors. But
beyond that, she would stay in the dorm. Stay and dread when her roommate returned. That stupid
cow, Parvati.
Hermione sighed sadly and looked down again at the freshly printed copy of Witch Weekly and
shook her head. All the pictures. Such melodrama. Typical Rita Skeeter, she thought. But then
again, this was the stuff of melodrama. This was Harry.
She read the final lines of the article and new tears began to form.
...Thus it was for Harry Potter, who has seen so much tragedy and has overcome such odds in his
young life. Was not this encounter a summation of the life he had lived? He had seen the face of
death up close once more and survived. He knew its features, its creases and its wrinkles as well as
he knew his own face. He knew what it was like to be on the razor's edge of death. And he knew
how to survive.
But for a young woman named Parvati Patil, it was the stuff of nightmares. Mindless and mindnumbing violence, coming out of nowhere, aimed at her. Nothing in her sheltered life had prepared
her for such a confrontation, to see mortality lock eyes with hers. The beautiful young girl, still
embracing the hopeful dreams of a maidenhood, who had yet to taste the sweetness that life had in
store for her, found herself in mortal danger from the forces of irrational cruelty and hatred, the
worst that the world had to offer.
But for Parvati Patil, it was love that made her strong. It was love that made her face her fears. It
40
was love that took an innocent young girl and transformed her into a heroine.
But after all, isn't it true that love makes heroes of us all?
By Rita Skeeter, reporting from The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Hermione snorted at the overblown prose of that Skeeter bitch. But somewhere inside, she felt a
stirring. Suddenly the bile rose up in her throat.
Yes, she had stood beside Harry and Ron when danger loomed. Yes, she had never quailed in the
face of peril. And yes, she had faced death and not blinked. But when it came to the one thing she
wanted the most, she could not face her own feelings, or the boy she cared for most in this world,
the boy she loved. Yes, she could face death. But in the face of love, she was a coward. Hermione
cried.
***
Hermione had recovered some of her composure when Lavender poked her head into the dorm
room. "Hermione, they're on their way back. It's time to come down."
Hermione looked up, her eyes still red-rimmed.
Lavender frowned. "Listen. Parvati's your roommate. And Harry is supposed to be one of your best
friends. I don't care what you're feeling. You go down there and greet them with the rest of us," she
said in cool voice. "If you're not there, they'll know what kind of friend you really are," she now
said coldly. "Now wash your face and get down there."
***
Parvati was a little surprised when she saw the portrait of the Lady in Pink already opened for them.
She turned to smile at Cyrus Jordan, who, with Professor McGonagall, had escorted them up. "I
think we're safe now," she said with a warm smile. "Thank you," she said and leaned over to kiss
the Auror's cheek.
Harry pursed his lips and shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know about that." Then he shrugged. "You
might as well come in, Mr. Jordan. You're a Gryffindor, too."
McGonagall smiled softly and nodded, but Jordan let out a hearty laugh. "And what, catch my son
doing some illegal underage drinking?"
The group laughed, and Parvati turned to Harry, her eyes bright. "Come on. This is our moment."
Harry still hesitated and Parvati simply grabbed him by his house tie and pulled him through the
portrait hole.
The room burst into cheering as Parvati and the reluctant, blushing Harry entered. Parvati turned to
Harry, who looked at her uncertainly. Suddenly, she flung her arms around him and gave him a
deep kiss, as the room erupted into even louder cheering and now some catcalls.
Harry's embarrassment intensified, then began slowly to fade as he felt Parvati's warmth. He felt a
tear from her fall on his cheek. As Parvati eased out of the kiss, he looked at her and saw her eyes
glistening. He smiled and realized how much all this meant to her, how much he meant to her. And
he smiled, and sudden feeling of warmth toward her surging through him. Wrapping an arm around
her waist, he began to walk with her down the three steps into the common room proper.
Suddenly, Parvati gasped and he turned quickly to her. She was staring, a smile on her face slowly
dissolving into laughter. He looked in the direction of her stare.
There, above the big fireplace in the room, in place of the portrait of Godric Gryffindor, was a
blown-up version of Colin Creevey's cover shot for Witch Weekly, which had come out that day, a
41
day earlier than usual.
There they were, Harry and Parvati staring at each other in the picture. Then, Parvati's head slowly
moved forward to rest on Harry's shoulder as she faced toward the camera, with Harry's head tilting
to rest against the top of her head. And underneath the portrait was a Fred and George touch, a
caption: "The Sultry Vixen and The Boy Who Snogged."
Parvati grabbed Harry's arm, still laughing breathlessly, and propelled him into the crowd.
***
Amid all the congratulations and the bottles of butterbeer, Harry felt awkward and embarrassed. But
at least he was among friends now.
As he looked around the room, there seemed to be someone missing. Hermione.
Then he saw her. She was sitting in a corner, watching him. She looked pale and wan, and Harry's
heart went out to her.
He made eye contact with her and gave her a small, crooked smile. She sighed and tried smiling
back. Finally, she got up and came over to him, being jostled by the rowdy crowd on her way.
When she finally made her way to him, Harry put his arms around her and gave her a warm hug and
she buried her face in his robe. He lowered his head and mumbled into her hair. "I'm sorry,
Hermione. For everything."
He could feel her sigh and she slowly looked up at him. "I'm just happy you're all right," she said in
a small voice that could barely be heard above the noise in the common room.
He tried to smile at her, but he was interrupted by Fred and George, who wrapped their arms around
his shoulders. "Harry, have we got something to show you," Fred said as they dragged him away.
As he looked back, he could see Ron gently take Hermione's arm and begin talking to her with a
sympathetic look. She nodded once and Ron led her to a couch to sit down. Harry sighed to himself.
'Maybe Ron will be good for her,' he thought. 'At least she isn't running back to hide in her dorm
again.'
42
CHAPTER 4 HERMIONE
It was Wednesday. The parties celebrating Voldemort's apparent defeat were over and classes had
resumed.
"Hey, Ginny. What's up?" Colin said as they left an early Transfiguration class.
"Nothing," she said flatly, her head down in thought as she walked down the corridor.
Colin scurried to keep up. "Come on, Ginny. You've been quiet all week. You should be happy.
Voldemort has been defeated. The Minister of Magic says he's dead and that the reign of terror is
over."
Ginny looked up at him with sad eyes. "You wouldn't understand," she said with a sigh.
Colin, who continued to walk alongside Ginny, gave his own sigh. "I don't know. I've been feeling a
little down myself, ever since I realized that Parvati loved Harry."
Ginny stopped short. "What?"
Colin stopped and turned around. "I don't know. I always thought Parvati was the prettiest girl I
ever met. I hoped someday to do something...you know, something great so that she would notice
me. But now she loves Harry, so I guess that will never happen."
Ginny blinked several times. "You liked Parvati?"
Colin gave a rueful snort. "Not that she'd ever notice me. I'm just a fourth year. She's used to going
out with sixth and seventh year losers. I hoped that she'd get tired of all those jerks and would
notice me. But now that she's with Harry, I guess that'll never happen," he said with a sigh.
Ginny stared at her classmate. "But...but, she's so...I don't know. Shallow? Boy crazy? I don't know
what Harry sees in her."
Colin bristled. "She likes to look nice. And she's not shallow. She's funny. And nice. Sure she
threatens to hex me all the time, but I guess I can be a pest. But she does talk to me sometimes
about classes and stuff. She offered to set me up with this girl in Ravenclaw that she said was nice.
But I liked her, not some Ravenclaw," he said with a sigh.
Ginny closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Colin. I guess I was just being catty."
Colin looked at Ginny sadly. "So what's with you? Harry?"
Ginny lowered her head and nodded.
He nodded, as well. "Yeah, I guess you did have a crush on him."
She snorted. "Yeah, I guess. The sun rises. The sun sets. And Ginny moons over Harry. All as
regular as clockwork."
Colin gently grabbed her arm and started walking her toward the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. "We
make quite a pair, don't we," he said sadly.
She followed along. "I guess if I were a little prettier..."
Colin stopped. "What? You're pretty. Don't be silly."
Ginny shook her head. "I could never compete with Parvati."
Colin snorted. "And I could never compete against Harry."
Now Ginny chuckled softly. "We do make quite a pair."
43
***
Ginny found herself in the library along with Rachel and Moira. Ginny was beginning to feel a little
better about herself, but still had not found the ambition to resist Rachel's insistence that they get
some work done, even if Moira did. So the three fourth years were scratching away at a History of
Magic essay that Professor Binns, oblivious as ever to anything that went on outside his particular
classroom, insisted had to be done by Friday's class.
Ginny finished her essay, satisfied it had the length, if not the scholarship, to fulfill Binns' basic
requirements. She looked around the library and saw Hermione, sitting in her favorite chair at her
table, staring blankly at a text. She was not scribbling away furiously, as was her wont. She was not
going back and forth between various other reference books. She was just staring. Ginny rose and
walked over to her fifth year friend.
"Hermione," Ginny whispered urgently.
Hermione looked up from the page that she hadn't turned in over a half hour.
"Hermione, are you all right?"
Hermione blinked, not responding.
Ginny gave an exasperated look. "Are. You. All. Right?"
Hermione blinked again, then sighed. "I'm fine," she said dully and looked down at the unread page
again.
"No you're not," Ginny said firmly. "You've been looking at that page for the past half hour. I bet
you don't even know what subject you're revising."
Hermione looked up again, this time with tears in her eyes. "I don't care."
Ginny reached over and closed Hermione book and gathered the rest of her friend's materials and
stuffed them into her satchel. "Come on. We're going for a walk."
Hermione blinked a few more times. "I'm all right," she said in a far away voice. But she didn't
resist as Ginny shouldered both of their satchels and pulled her to her feet.
"We've got to talk," Ginny said with resolve.
"Mmmm hmmm," Hermione said as she was led out of the library.
It was still surprisingly warm for October, so Ginny led Hermione out the main entrance of the
castle. She spotted Dean and Seamus walking back toward the entrance. Dean was laughing and
Seamus was sulking as the two were arguing about football versus Quidditch. Dean bounced his
football and gave it a quick knee to pop it in front of Seamus, who grabbed it.
"No hands, you git," Dean said with a laugh.
"Dean, Seamus. You going back to the house?" Ginny called to the boys.
The two turned towards the girls, nodding.
"Good," she said firmly. "Could you take these back?" offering the boys the two satchels.
Seamus shrugged and Dean smiled. "Sure. For a price."
Ginny gave Dean a scowl. "Okay. I'll pay for dinner tonight."
Dean laughed but Seamus looked confused. "But we're having dinner in the Great Hall, aren't we?"
Dean gave his friend a playful push. "If they give you the check for dinner, pass it down to Ginny. It
won't cost you a knut, you git."
44
Suddenly Seamus blushed. "Jeez. I'm supposed to come up with the stupid jokes, not you,
Weasley," he said, rolling his eyes at being so thick.
Dean collected the girls' satchels and draped them over Seamus's shoulders. "I'll carry the ball," he
said imperiously and walked up the stairs to the castle with Seamus trailing in his wake.
Ginny, still clutching Hermione's elbow, began leading her down the path to the lake. She gave a
quick glance around and then turned to her friend. "All right, Hermione. Talk. This has got to stop
and it won't stop until you get it out of your system."
Hermione stopped and stared at Ginny, then suddenly burst into tears. "Oh, Ginny. Harry loved me.
And I hurt him. And now he's gone forever. He hates me," she said, sobbing.
Ginny embraced Hermione, patting her on the back to try to soothe her friend. After nearly a
minute, Hermione finally got a hold of herself and Ginny let go, putting her arm around her friend's
waist and again leading her toward the lake.
"First of all, Harry doesn't hate you," Ginny said softly. "Except for You-Know-Who and his Death
Eaters, I don't think it's in Harry's nature to hate people. Ron told me that Harry said he doesn't even
hate the Dursleys now that he doesn't have to live with them anymore. He's just glad to be away
from them, even after all they did to him."
Hermione looked up at her taller, younger friend. "What did they do to him? I thought they just
didn't like him."
Ginny looked down at the path. "I don't know exactly what happened. Ron wouldn't say. I don't
think he even knows the whole story. You know how Harry is. But from what Ron told me, I think
Dumbledore had him move out from the Dursleys to protect Harry from them, not You-Know-Who.
Ron said something about Harry going to the hospital during the summer and the Muggle
authorities getting involved and how he ended up living with the vicar who saved his life."
Hermione stopped and gasped. "They tried to kill him?"
Ginny hung her head. "I don't know. Ron said it was very hush-hush. But Harry threatened to run
away and live on the streets rather than go back. Or take his chances with the Muggles rather than
come back here if Dumbledore tried to make him go back."
Hermione's eyes were wide. "But...but...they tried to kill him?"
Ginny turned and began walking again. "Like I say, I don't know for sure. Ron seems to think so.
Or they beat him up badly enough that he ended up in the hospital for a couple days."
Hermione's eyes were filling up again. "Why didn't he tell me," she said disconsolately.
Ginny sighed. "Hermione. He was crushing on you terribly. He wasn't going to tell you all this
awful stuff and have you feel all sorry for him. He wanted you to like him, not pity him."
Hermione began sobbing again. "And the way I treated him..."
Ginny continued to walk, nearing the lake. She found a bench and the two sat down. "What
happened between you two, anyway. Ron apparently knows but he wouldn't say anything."
Hermione continued to cry.
"You don't have to tell me. I understand," Ginny said soothingly.
"No, you don't understand. He liked me. And I...I froze. I hurt him. He was all I ever wanted and
when he came to me, I didn't know what to do. I was scared. I thought this would change everything
and ruin everything. I hurt him. He hates me. I only got what I deserved."
Ginny now started and grabbed her friend. "What happened? Tell me, Hermione."
45
Hermione's head hung in grief. "He told me I was pretty. He kissed me. In the library. And I froze. I
wanted him forever and when he finally told me, I didn't know what to do."
"He kissed you?" Ginny said wistfully.
Hermione nodded, her head still down. "On the cheek. And I was so startled, I couldn't even look at
him. I was embarrassed that I didn't know what to do. Here I fantasized about how he'd sweep me
off my feet and when it happened, my mind went blank and I didn't react. I didn't say thank you. I
didn't tell him I loved him. I didn't even look at him for fear I'd burst into tears or make a fool of
myself. And he went running away. And I knew I'd been stupid and was embarrassed to face him. It
was only after he left me a birthday gift and a card that I finally knew I could face him. But by then
it was too late. I'm such a fool," she cried, bursting into a new round of sobbing.
Ginny lowered her head. "Why, Hermione? I know you liked him. Why didn't you jump him right
there in the library. I would have."
"Because he was my best friend. Things were fine the way they were. I didn't want things to
change. I didn't want to ruin everything," Hermione continued in desperation. "I didn't want to lose
Harry as a friend," she said quietly.
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.
Hermione slowly shook her head, tearing up. "We were best friends. But if we were to become
more than that, something would happen to ruin everything."
"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, frowning in puzzlement.
"It always happens that way. At least it always did. Whenever I got close to someone, something
would happen and they would go away," she said mournfully.
"I still don't understand. Explain it to me," she said mildly.
Hermione lowered her head. "Before I came here, I never had any friends. Every time I thought
someone liked me, who would be my friend, something would happen, someone would interfere
and my friend would go away, would stop being my friend."
"What are you talking about?"
Hermione took a deep ragged breath.
"Before I came to Hogwarts, everyone thought I was weird. I loved school and I loved to read..."
"Well, I guess things haven't changed much," Ginny said with a small smile.
"No, you don't understand," Hermione said, looking up at Ginny with eyes brimming. "Books were
always there when I was a child. They were the one constant, the one thing I could rely on."
Ginny shook her head, not understanding.
"You don't understand about growing up in the Muggle world having abilities, abilities you can't
understand, that no one can understand. Whenever something happened, something that hurt me or
something that I didn't like, bad things happened. If I had a fight with someone or someone called
me names or teased me, something would happen to them. They would trip or get a sudden pain in
their arm or leg like I punched them or kicked them. I used to get in trouble all the time when I was
little. Adults thought I was hitting or kicking my classmates or playmates, but I never did a thing. I
just thought those. Then things would happen when I got upset in front of grownups, and they
wouldn't see me doing anything and turn on the kids I hurt and blame them for falsely accusing
me."
Hermione took a long and ragged breath. "Then I would come home with reports from my teachers
46
about bad behavior," she said sadly. "I would try to explain that it wasn't me. That things just
seemed to happen. They were always sympathetic, but I could tell they were concerned. So I
stopped telling them and tried to stick by the rules to keep out of trouble."
Ginny nodded in understanding.
"It was only when I learned that I was a witch, that I started reading about Hogwarts and the
wizarding world, and eventually came here, that I realized that I was hexing the kids I didn't like
without knowing it."
"Geez," said Ginny, wide eyed.
"But all my classmates and playmates came to look at me as someone weird, like there was
something wrong with me. If anyone wanted to get close to me, to be my friend, the others would
warn him or her off. 'Don't play with her,' they would say. 'She'll hurt you or get you in trouble,'
they would say."
Ginny now looked at Hermione with something like sympathy.
"That's why I fell in love with books. They were always there. They wouldn't hurt me or betray me.
I got to live other lives and discover new worlds that I had never knew existed," Hermione said
wistfully.
"Then, when I was about ten years old, as I was leaving school one day, in tears over another
incident, another slight, and I was met at the door by a nice old lady. She seemed to know me. I
didn't quite trust her, but she just walked with me as I walked home. And she started talking to me
about my life as if she knew me, as if she knew everything about me. She explained to me that I
must learn to control my emotions, to control what was inside me that was causing all the problems.
She told me some things I could do to control myself. And she told me that things would get better
soon. That I would finally understand soon. Then she left me at the door to my house. I felt so much
better, knowing someone understood."
Ginny was now absorbed in Hermione's tale.
"I told my parents about the nice old lady, but they were upset that I would be walking with and
talking to a total stranger like that. But I guess they were relieved when I started to get a grip on my
abilities. They had seen how miserable I'd been for so many years and were hoping that maybe I'd
turned a corner."
Hermione sighed and continued. "But still, I couldn't seem to make any friends. They were still to
wary of everything that had gone on in the past. And I know my parents were near despair over me,
how I cried whenever there was a party or event and I wasn't invited, how no one ever came to play
with me, that there seemed no one among my classmates who would talk to me or even come near
me. Then, one day, the nice old lady who had helped me came to call."
Ginny's eyes were now wide. "Who was it," she whispered.
"That nice old lady turned out to be Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "She sat down with my
parents and explained about my abilities and powers, about what I was."
"Your parents must have been thrilled," Ginny said.
Hermione turned to Ginny, startled. "No. They were upset. They didn't know what to say. My father
even got angry and threatened to throw McGonagall out of the house. But eventually he calmed
down a little. And they listened."
"You have to realize that my parents are Muggles. They are dentists, trained in the sciences. They
had been trained to dismiss the unexplainable, things that couldn't be scientifically demonstrated,
with the utmost skepticism, as hocus-pocus."
47
Ginny giggled. "We all learned hocus-pocus as kids. It was how we showed we weren't squibs."
"Well, for my parents, hocus-pocus meant that something was bogus, a fraud," Hermione continued.
"But McGonagall did a few simple spells, levitations and shrinking charms and lit the fire in the
fireplace with her wand, and they were convinced that wizardry was real. I know they had a million
questions, but I could see them biting their tongues."
"McGonagall then explained about Hogwarts, and how I could learn to channel and develop my
powers. And how I would be among people of my own kind, that I wouldn't be a freak, an outcast."
"What did they say?" Ginny asked.
"They were upset. They cried a lot and hugged me. They didn't want this for me. They had hoped to
see me at the best Muggle public school and go to university. To make something of my life in the
Muggle world. But most of all, they wanted me to be happy. And they saw that I wasn't, that I had
never been happy. They saw that they were the only people in the world who loved me, who cared
about me. They weren't just my haven from the troubles of the outside world. They were my entire
world. That my parents and my books were the only things in my life. That everything outside of
that had caused me pain."
Now Ginny was weeping, too, quietly in sympathy for her friend.
"McGonagall left a few books with me, including Hogwarts: A History, and left. My mum and dad
and I cried a lot that night and my parents seemed to be distracted and upset for the next several
days. Finally, one night, they sat me down and asked if I wanted to go to Hogwarts. I had read a lot
of Hogwarts: A History, and the more I read, the more I understood what I was. I began to look at
coming here as the adventure I had always dreamed of, where I could find friends, excitement and
love that I never experienced in the Muggle world." Tears were now flowing freely down
Hermione's face.
"I told my parents how much I loved them. But I also told them that, more than anything else in the
world, I wanted to go to Hogwarts. I told them I didn't really want to be separated from them, but
that I knew that I would have to if I were to really be someone, to be happy. They said that they had
always been prepared to let me go away to a proper public school if I had wanted and that they were
prepared to let me go. Again, we cried a lot that night. My dad then took out a letter--my Hogwarts
letter--and removed a small parchment that was included. He and my mother signed it and went out
to the back yard. He gave it to an owl that had taken up residence in our hickory tree out there and
the owl took off. I was going to Hogwarts."
Ginny sighed through her tears as Hermione continued.
"I read all the books Professor McGonagall gave me several times that summer. I wanted to be
prepared. And when McGonagall picked me up to go to Diagon alley, she let me try a couple simple
spells. They worked. I was so excited. I really was a witch."
"I was so worried that I would be unprepared, a freak, when I boarded the Hogwarts Express. But
then I found a compartment with Neville Longbottom, Stan Quince..."
"From Hufflepuff?" Ginny asked.
"Yes, and Megan Jones, who also went to Hufflepuff. They were all so nervous and hadn't read all
that I had. And they were all so nice, and Neville seemed so endearingly clumsy that I lost whatever
fears I felt. And then Trevor got away from Neville ..."
"It's a wonder that Neville still has that wandering toad," Ginny giggled.
"...I was the one to take charge to track him down. That's when I met Ron and Harry."
"What was that like?" Ginny asked wistfully.
48
"Well Harry seemed shy, but he had that same sweet smile. I fixed his glasses with a simple charm.
And Ron was...well, Ron. He was covered with candy wrappers and had chocolate all over his face,
and his nose was smudged from some dumb spell he tried to cast that backfired. They were so
cute."
"So you liked them right away," Ginny said.
"Well, I guess. I wasn't exactly looking for boyfriends at that time. I hadn't even turned eleven yet.
But having met those two, even more than from meeting Neville, Stan and Megan, I got such a
warm feeling. I finally knew I was going to like it at Hogwarts."
"Then, Ron, Harry and I were all sorted into Gryffindor and I was so excited. They were so nice.
And Harry was a lot like me. He had been raised as a Muggle and knew even less magic than I did.
But he seemed so open and friendly. And Ron accepted me right away, even if he grumbled about
me being bossy."
"Then, on Halloween, I heard Ron make a nasty remark about me, and how annoying I was and
how I didn't have any friends." Hermione's eyes began to well up again. "I know Harry must have
said something to him, but I didn't hear. All I could think of was that it was starting all over again.
All the bad things I experienced in Muggle school was starting again. Maybe I was a freak. Maybe I
didn't deserve to have friends," Hermione was weeping openly again.
"Ron is so stupid, half the time, it's a wonder nobody's hexed him into another dimension," Ginny
said darkly, giving Hermione a consoling hug.
"I ran into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and spent the rest of the day crying and thinking maybe I
should go home. At least I knew my parents loved me, even if no one else did."
"Then you were attacked by the troll," Ginny prompted.
"Yes, and Harry and Ron saved me. And everything changed. I realized they did like me, after all.
And they did want to be my friends. The first friends I ever had. And the best friends I've ever had.
And I didn't want to lose them."
Hermione looked down at her hands disconsolately. "And I figured that if Harry and I got together,
Ron would go away, like when I was a child. Then something would happen between Harry and I
and Harry would go away and I'd be alone again. Oh, Ginny, I wanted to be with Harry so badly,
but I was afraid. I didn't know what to do. I just wanted things to be the way they were with Harry
and Ron always there with me together."
Ginny sat back on the bench, her arm around Hermione to comfort her. She sat there a long time,
thinking.
Finally, Ginny turned to Hermione. "Hermione, I feel bad that you never had friends when you were
young. But you had to realize how much Harry cared about you. And how you hurt him."
Hermione squeezed her eyes closed, tears once again dripping down the side of her face. "I didn't
mean to," she said in a tiny voice. "I just wasn't expecting..."
Ginny frowned at her friend in exasperation. "He's been wearing his heart on his sleeve since we
picked him up at the vicarage."
"I didn't know," Hermione said, tears beginning to form. She turned on her side and curled up. "I
kept thinking that maybe he didn't like me that way," she said in a small voice.
Ginny closed her eyes and shook her head. Could this girl be any thicker?
"Hermione. What did you tell me about Sara when we picked up Harry at the end of the summer?"
"I don't know," Hermione said, now crying.
49
"I remember exactly what you told us, Hermione. She knew you right away. Sarah said Harry had
told her all about you," Ginny said coolly.
"So what. What's he doing talking to some other girl about me behind my back," Hermione whined.
Ginny leaned back, closing her eyes and sighing. "Hermione. If a boy wants a girl to be his
girlfriend, he doesn't tell her how much he likes another girl. He doesn't tell the girl 'all about you.'
That's lesson number one in the 'boy handbook.' I think even Neville knows that one," said Ginny.
Hermione sunk down on the bench in a sulk.
"Hermione, Sara was pretty, right?"
Hermione grimaced. "I guess...You were there. You saw her. Wearing these shocking white shorts.
They came practically up to her ... well, you know."
Ginny leveled her gaze at Hermione.
"And yet this pretty girl in the sexy shorts knew you right away, came up and smiled and hugged
you and chatted with you."
Hermione pouted. "If you call threatening me a chat, yes, we chatted."
Ginny looked puzzled. "Threatened? What did she say?"
"She told me I better take care of Harry because she would always be there ready if I didn't."
Ginny gasped in exasperation. "Listen. There's only a couple reasons why a boy would tell a girl
he's with all about his friendship with another girl. First, to warn off the girl he is with, to send a
message that he's not available. The second reason is because he can't help it. That all he can think
of is this other girl. It sends the same message even more strongly to the girl he's with."
"What message?' Hermione said, looking up at Ginny.
"That he's in love, you dope," Ginny said firmly.
Hermione simply hung her head. She was supposed to be the smartest witch in Hogwarts. She could
assess people and situations and act decisively, except when it came to those closest to her. When it
came to things that were really important to her, she despaired that she would succeed at academics
and fail at life. Ginny embraced Hermione again, her eyes closed in sorrow and grief for her friend.
After a long moment, Ginny whispered softly. "Why didn't you talk to someone? Why didn't you
come to me?"
Hermione shook her head against Ginny's shoulder. "I couldn't talk to Parvati or Lavender. They
would have laughed at me. Or yelled at me. Or told everyone in school and I'd be a laughing stock."
"You couldn't come to me?" Ginny asked.
Hermione gave a great heavily sigh and began to whimper. "I didn't think...I was afraid you might
be...I don't know...you liked Harry, too."
Ginny nodded, her own tears beginning to flow silently. "I should have told you," she said absently.
Hermione, leaning her head against Ginny's shoulder, sighed. "Told me what?"
Ginny released Hermione and hung her head. "About the letter."
Hermione looked up at Ginny with glistening eyes. "What letter?"
Ginny sighed again. "Harry wrote Ron at the beginning of the summer telling Ron he liked you.
Ron went into a sulk for weeks. Ron kind of liked you, too. And you know how Ron can get. It was
only after a couple weeks of badgering him that he told me about it. I practically broke his broom
over his head before he promised to write Harry back."
50
"You knew how Harry felt? And Ron feels?" Hermione said with sad eyes.
Ginny began to weep. "I'm sorry Hermione. I should have told you. But I was jealous. And Ron
really liked you, too. And I didn't want to lose any chance at Harry to you, or hurt Ron by telling
you. Ron made me promise never to breath a word of any of this to you or anyone. But I should
have told you anyway. If I knew what was going on between you and Harry, I would have. I know I
would have. You're my friend. Better you with Harry than Parvati."
Hermione snorted with disgust. "That tramp. The only reason he's with her is because she lets him
sleep with her," she said bitterly.
Ginny started. "But they haven't..."
Hermione gave Ginny an icy look. "Of course they have. Ron as much as admitted it. She and Harry
spent three nights together in the common room after curfew before they faced Voldemort. The
tramp. I thought Harry had better judgment than that," she said with disdain.
Ginny closed her eyes and a small smile crept across her face. "Hermione. Harry and Parvati haven't
had sex. Not yet, anyway."
Hermione stared at Ginny. "How do you know?"
Ginny sighed. "Because I told Ron the same thing yesterday. That Harry just wanted sex. Ron
laughed at me. He said Harry was going crazy, asking all kinds of stupid questions about what
would happen if it ever went that far. Ron said that it sounded like Harry was scared to death that he
wouldn't know what to do--that he was afraid of being a horizontal squib," she said, shaking her
head and chuckling.
"A what...?" Hermione asked, startled.
Ginny chuckled again. "A horizontal squib. You know, 'No magic in bed'."
Hermione stopped dead, her mouth open and her face flushing. "Ginny!"
Ginny turned back to Hermione with a smile. "Oh, come on. As if you haven't wondered about all
that stuff. Or have you and Viktor Krum been at it already without us knowing?" she said with a
mischievous grin. "Doing a little studying after curfew?"
Hermione's face turned crimson. "I have not..."
Ginny continued to chuckle.
Hermione stared at Ginny. "But what about all those stories in the newspapers? The lovers in the
forbidden forest and all that?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione, you of all people should know better than to trust the wizarding
press."
Hermione's shoulders suddenly sunk. "But what about those nights they spent together..."
Ginny paused. "I don't know if I should tell you this..."
"What?" Hermione asked, her eyes full of anxiety.
Ginny hung her head again. "They were plotting to get her and Ron together. And you and Harry
together."
Hermione let out a small moan. "Oh, no. Oh, no. She kept asking about Harry and me. I thought she
was planning to steal him. I kept telling her to mind her own business. Don't tell me she was trying
to set me straight," she cried, bursting into tears again.
Once again, Ginny embraced Hermione and held her a long time.
51
It was beginning to get dark and chilly. "Come on, Hermione. Let's get back. It's not the end of the
world. And look at Parvati's track record with boys. How long did she last with Dan Turley in sixth
year? A month? And Justin Finch-Fletchley in Hufflepuff? Two months? And Kevin Entwhistle of
Ravenclaw? Another two months? And that guy from Beauxbatons? Two dates? There's hope for us
yet," she said with a dry chuckle.
Hermione slid her arm around Ginny's waist and took a deep breath. "I don't know. I don't think
he'll ever forgive me. I've been so stupid, I don't think I deserve him," she said sadly.
Ginny giggled softly. "If you don't want him, I'll take him."
For the first time in two weeks, Hermione smiled. "Well..." she said with a sigh, as the girls walked
back to the castle. As they strolled back, Hermione gave Ginny a warm squeeze. "Thank you.
Thank you, Ginny," she whispered.
***
It was at dinner that Professor McGonagall announced that there would be a prefects meeting
immediately following the meal.
Hermione cast a quick glance over toward Harry, who looked up at her and shrugged. The meal
ended without further ado.
Parvati whispered something to Harry as he rose. Hermione heard her mention Harry's shoes.
Hermione glanced down briefly and noticed they were the same worn-out penny loafers he had
worn for since the beginning of fourth year.
Hermione knew they had belonged to Harry's cousin and in the beginning of Harry's fourth year, he
had taken to wearing two pair of work socks to fit into them. He kept them polished, but they were
beginning to fray terribly. Hermione recalled chiding him, just as Parvati was doing, to wear the
nice shoes the Strowbridges had bought him, but he refused, saying they were his Sunday shoes.
Hermione sighed, understanding some of Parvati's exasperation. Then her thoughts clouded and she
proceeded to the grand staircase to climb to the first floor to the meeting room next to the Head
Boy's and Head Girl's office and rooms where prefects meetings were held.
The prefects took their assigned seats and looked at each other with puzzled expressions. Harry
turned to Millie Bulstrode, but she seemed uncharacteristically quiet. Just past her, Draco had his
notebook opened to a blank page and seemed simply to stare at the empty space. On the other side,
Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst seemed to be quietly chatting and Hannah Abbott and Ernie
Macmillan seemed subdued. The sixth and seventh year prefects seemed no less puzzled, although
they also appeared a little more relaxed. What could be so important that it couldn't wait another
day for the regularly scheduled meeting?
The door opened and Professor McGonagall swept in with Roger Davies and Angelina Johnson on
her heels. McGonagall took a position behind the lectern between Roger and Angelina at the head
of the table.
She looked down at each of the prefects. She cleared her throat and began.
"I have some rather disturbing news. We all have seen the newspapers and heard the Ministry
statements about the fall of Voldemort..."
There was some uncomfortable shifting from a few of the prefects at the mention of the Dark Lord's
name, but not as much as there would have been a week earlier.
"Ahem," McGonagall continued. "It seems that those statements were in error. Voldemort lives,
according to newly uncovered evidence."
There were some grumblings and a couple gasps. Harry merely sat there stoically and nodded,
52
drawing stares from several prefects.
Again, McGonagall cleared her throat for attention. "It is the opinion of some very savvy people
that the immediate threat from the Dark Lord has lessened. But that does not mean that everyone is
safe. There is fear that some of his followers may attempt random and uncoordinated, but
nonetheless very dangerous, retaliatory strikes against the wizarding world as a result of his
ignominious defeat in the Forbidden Forest."
McGonagall glanced briefly at Harry then returned to her notes. "As such, we must all redouble our
efforts to be vigilant. To that end, we..." and she glanced down at Roger and Angelina, who looked
perplexed. "We have decided to institute a more extensive series of prefect patrols than existed in
the past."
The prefects began looking at each other with concern.
McGonagall took deep breath. "Therefore, beginning tomorrow night, we will be assigning two
prefects each to four-hour shifts to patrol the halls from 10:00 p.m. curfew through to 6:00 am. That
will mean two of you will be needed to patrol the halls from 10:00 to 2:00 to be relieved by a
second pair of prefects for a 2:00 to 6:00 am shift."
The low grumbling in the room was now becoming more audible.
McGonagall sighed again. "Might I remind you that the most recent attack occurred not more than
100 yards outside the Hogwarts' grounds in the Forbidden Forest. As we speak, the anti-apparation
wards are being extended to cover most of the forest and the surrounding areas up to the
Hogsmeade town boundary," she said primly. "However, the very brazenness of the last attack has
sent us a clear message that the Death Eaters know no limits in their willingness to attack us.
Therefore, as prefects, it will be up to you to help protect the school."
Terry Boot raised his hand.
McGonagall sighed yet again. "Mr. Boot?"
Terry blinked a couple times. "Won't this interfere with our studies...and our classes?"
McGonagall nodded slightly. "We have attempted to take that into account. We have drawn up a
schedule for you in an attempt to accommodate your studies. I will go over that with you in a
moment. Let me just tell you that we have attempted to work out a system that provides a maximum
of protection with the minimum of disruptions. One of the steps we have taken is to pair you up
with appropriate partners and assign you schedules that will pose the least difficulties to your
work."
She turned back to her notes and picked up a schedule. "First, let me tell you that there will be
assigned schedules and partners. You may not deviate from your schedules or partners except that
each pair may decide who takes the earlier shift and who takes the later shift. If there comes a time
where a conflict in a pairing develops, you may request a change. However, for the time being, the
schedules and pairings will be firm."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He gave a silent prayer that he wouldn't be paired with Malfoy, and
just as quickly prayed that Hermione be spared that, as well.
McGonagall cleared her throat again. "Now, there are 24 prefects in addition to the Head Boy and
Head Girl. That means that six nights of the week can be covered on a regular rotation. The seventh
night, which we have decided will be Saturday night, the staff will assume patrol duties. Miss
Johnson and Mr. Davies will serve as auxiliary patrollers should anyone not be able to fulfill his or
her duties on a given night. But let me warn you," she said firmly. "No frivolous excuses will be
accepted. You best be on death's door if you expect to be excused. Further, we understand that
patrolling on a Friday night would work something of a hardship on those who might be assigned
53
that particular night. So the four prefects assigned to patrol on those nights will be allowed to trade
off with other prefects on a voluntary basis. For any prefect accepting voluntary patrol duty on a
Friday night out of rotation, their house will be awarded 10 points."
McGonagall took a deep breath. "Now, the pairings and the schedules. Starting tomorrow night and
for Thursdays to come, Miss Hermione Granger, fifth year Gryffindor, and Mr. Andrew Stebbins,
seventh year Hufflepuff. Next pairing. Mr. Harry Potter, fifth year Gryffindor, and Miss Janet
McDonald, seventh year Hufflepuff. Friday nights..."
Harry looked across the room at the seventh year table. He knew Andy Stebbins from Quidditch, a
smooth flying if not particularly strong beater. But he didn't really know Janet McDonald. She was
tall and not very pretty, with a long, pleasant face and long red hair, and a quiet air about her. She
looked back at him and nodded. He noticed Stebbins shrug at Hermione with a resigned look on his
face. Harry gave himself a small internal smile. 'At least we're not stuck with Malfoy.'
At the end of the meeting, there was much discussion and grumbling among the prefects. And no
one grumbled more than Dana Crews and Stephanie Kosky, sixth-year Hufflepuffs, and Sue
Fawcett and Henry Hemphill, sixth-year Ravenclaws, who drew the short straws: Friday night duty.
So the four were delighted when they were approached by the fifth year Slytherin, Draco Malfoy,
who offered to take a shift for whoever wished a Friday night off. 'Undisturbed use of the library'
was his only comment when they asked why. The four sixth years were satisfied and thought not to
question further.
***
"I know why you were paired with me," Janet said as she and Harry sat down at desks in front of
the Head Boy's and Girl's office on the first floor.
Harry looked over to her, still a little muzzy from being awakened at 1:40 am. "Yeah," he muttered.
"Because you don't have any Friday classes until 11:00 either," he muttered through a yawn.
She shook her head slowly. "Neither do any of the seventh years except for those taking N.E.W.T.level Transfiguration," she said mildly.
Harry turned to her with little interest. "Okay, why?"
She turned to look down. "Because Defense Against the Dark Arts was my worst subject. I guess
they figured if they paired me up with someone, it would have to be someone really good. And you
are probably the best here at DADA. I could never fight off You-Know-Who."
Harry frowned. "Okay, if you say so," he muttered. Then he paused. "Listen, you heard the
instructions McGonagall gave. If there is any sign of trouble, any intruders, any problems, step
behind me and give the alarm spell. I'll keep you safe," he said soothingly.
She smiled at him. "I know, Harry. Any sign of trouble: Increpare."
***
It was 2:45 a.m. when Harry put his potions book down and turned to Janet. She had been reading a
History of Magic text, but now appeared to be writing a letter. "Bored?" he asked.
Janet shrugged. "I guess."
"Well, we might as well get the first set of rounds over with. Maybe we can scare Filch, or maybe
even Mrs. Norris," he said with a grin.
Janet chuckled. "That's not nice," she said, rising.
Harry smiled. "Or maybe we can catch some really late-night snoggers in the Astronomy Tower,"
he said with a chuckle, joining her as they began walking down the hallway toward the East
54
staircases.
As they strolled, Janet turned to Harry. "I never knew you and Parvati were a couple."
Harry gave a wan smile. "Well, it sort of happened recently."
Janet sighed. "Still, you could have fooled me," she said, making a face. She paused and then
continued. "I just don't get you Gryffindors. You are the most unromantic people I have ever seen."
Harry looked at her with a puzzled, slightly annoyed expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Janet gave him a surprised look. "Well, look at you. You and Parvati are a couple, but I never see
you acting like it."
Harry sighed in exasperation. "We've only been a couple about a week."
Janet shook her head. "Okay, don't take you as an example. Name me another couple in
Gryffindor."
Harry frowned as they passed through the entrance to the stairwells. He peered down the vast
stairwell complex, then up to where it branched off between the Gryffindor Tower and the North
Tower. He then cleared his throat. "Well, Fred and Katie Bell. And George and Angelina, I guess."
"Fred and Katie?" Janet exclaimed. "I always kind of suspected George and Angelina, although
you'd never know it the way they act around each other. But I didn't know about Fred and Katie."
Harry blinked. Neither did he, he thought, until Parvati mentioned it.
"Who else?" she asked.
Harry pursed his lips as he continued to scan the stairwells. "Well, I think o couple of my firsties
have the makings of a couple. Oh...and Rachel Weiss and Tony Goldstein."
Janet rolled her eyes. "Tony's in Hufflepuff with me. Of course I knew about them. I mean within
Gryffindor. You don't all live like monks and nuns, do you?"
Harry paused at the third floor entrance. "I just want to take a peek," he said as he walked onto the
floor and glanced up and down the empty corridor. As he returned to the landing, Janet was giving
him a smug smile.
"No answer?"
Harry shrugged.
Janet shook her head. "See, that's the difference between the houses. In Hufflepuff, if a girl and a
boy are a couple, they have no problem letting other people know. I mean, we don't shout it from
the rooftops or anything, but if a couple wants to cuddle, they cuddle. If they want to hold hands,
they hold hands."
Harry nodded thoughtfully, thinking about how sweet it was that Hannah Abbott and Ernie
Macmillan were always holding hands, and how he had seen Susan Bones snuggle under big Wayne
Hopkins arm after classes on several occasions. And, of course, Pamela Hutchinson and Michael
Corner were constantly fighting and making up in plain view.
Harry sighed. "But that's just Hufflepuff."
Janet chuckled softly as they passed through the doors to the fourth floor to check the classrooms.
"It's the same thing with Ravenclaw. You see the boys and the girls who have paired off. They are
always walking together or in the library together. They aren't as demonstrative, but you can see
who are couples. That's why a lot of us thought you and Hermione were a couple. You were doing
the same thing at the beginning of the year."
55
Harry frowned, wanting to change the subject. "What about Slytherin?"
Janet let out a quiet but hearty laugh. "They're the easiest of all. Just watch the way a Slytherin girl
watches her boy, or how a Slytherin boy reacts whenever another boy goes near his girl. It's a real
territorial thing. Like they are always ready to pounce whenever someone threatens their turf."
Harry gave Janet a blank expression.
Janet rolled her eyes again. "Okay, here's one not even you could miss. Just look at your 'friends'
Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. You always see her near him, watching like some sort of
predator. And have you ever seen Pansy talking to another boy, in Slytherin or in any of the other
houses?"
Harry pondered this. "I guess not," he said absently.
Janet nodded knowingly. "But not with you Gryffindors. You boys keep these walls around you like
you're afraid of catching some dread disease or like you'd be cursed into the next dimension if you
were ever caught looking at another girl. And the girls are just as bad. The only relationships
anyone ends up knowing about are the ones with people outside your own houses. Last year, we had
a pool going as to who would go with who to the Yule Ball. There were, what, 14 Gryffindor
couples who went to the ball? Wayne Hopkins won the pool by making joke picks. He got seven
right, including you and Parvati," she said with a laugh.
Janet finally caught her breath as they returned to the stairwell to climb up to the fifth floor and
continued. "And half the time, when we see a Gryffindor couple on a date, we don't even know if
they are actually a couple or just happened to show up at the same place at the same time by
accident. You Gryffindors have got to be the least romantic people on Earth. That's why it's nice to
see you and Parvati together. I figure she's one of the few Gryffindors capable of breaking that
monastic mold you all seem to be cast from."
Harry was now in a funk. "We're romantic," he muttered, knowing it was an exaggeration, if not an
outright lie, as he continued making the rounds. Then his mind wandered to Parvati and he smiled.
'I like holding hands with Parvati,' he thought, vowing to be a little more Hufflepuff in the future.
56
CHAPTER FIVE FEELING VERY, VERY
OLD
Dear Mae and Tony,
I am sorry for not writing you the past couple weeks, but a lot has been happening.
First of all, I have a new girlfriend. Her name is Parvati Patil. She's from India. Well, her family
has been in England for about 200 years. I think I mentioned her this summer. We went to the Yule
Ball together. I didn't know her very well then. But I have gotten to know her now and I really like
her. She is very pretty and has long black hair in a braid and pretty dark eyes. I think she is in the
picture in my room of all my friends at Gryffindor. She likes to dance and is very nice and we talk a
lot. And she is a lot of fun to be with. I really like her. We hold hands a lot. It is really nice.
I know you thought I liked Hermione and all. I guess that didn't work out. Maybe she will like my
best friend Ron. You met Ron when everyone came to pick me up. He was the one with red hair.
(Ha Ha Ha!)
Mae, I owe you at least five pounds for saying 'and stuff' at the end of my sentences. I know I caught
myself saying it several times. And I made the mistake of telling Ron about your fining me. Now,
whenever I say 'and stuff,' he shouts out 'another 25p for the poor box' and laughs at me. I really
am trying to stop all those things you told me make me sound like an uneducated dolt. Maybe
Parvati can help. She doesn't use those expressions, except she says 'whatever' a lot.
There was a fight with Voldemort last week. You know, that 'Wizarding Hitler' guy I told you about.
He was hurt pretty bad, almost killed. I don't think he'll be back for a while. And some of his top
leaders were captured and put into prison. And one, the father of this real obnoxious guy here at
school, is now wanted for attempted murder. So I guess that guy I really don't like here won't be so
snooty anymore. I hope he comes around and cleans up his act.
School is still hard and we have a lot of homework. But I'll still try to write you every week like I
promised. I owe you two letters for the last two weeks, but I will try to make it up to you. After all,
this letter is longer than usual. Does that count?
I'll write you again soon.
Love,
Your foster son, Harry
***
Hannah Abbott sighed.
She hated being on patrol duty. And if her first patrol was any indication, Sunday duty had to be the
worst. Weekday duty was bad enough, she supposed. But on a weekday, all you would be giving up
is a little study time and some time with your friends. But Sunday duty meant you were giving up
half your weekend. You couldn't really do anything on Sundays if you knew you would be on patrol
from 10:00 to 2:00 that night.
So her Sunday was pretty much shot. After Sunday services in the morning, there was checking any
homework still left to do. Then lunch. But if there was anything fun planned in the house, Hannah
wasn't sure she should participate. After all, she would be up until after 2:00 am and would
probably need a nap beforehand, like today.
57
And patrol duty was boring. It didn't help that she was with Jack Bletchley, the seventh-year
Slytherin. Jack was dull as dishwater. The only thing he could talk about for more than two
sentences was Quidditch and his exploits as a Slytherin keeper. And, to Hannah, Quidditch lost
much of its attraction when Cedric Diggory died. Even though her boyfriend Ernie was on the
Hufflepuff squad, she just couldn't stay interested in the match itself.
The only attraction Quidditch had for her was watching the seekers. She loved flying, and admired
the grace of the Hogwarts seekers. Her favorite was seventh-year Mike Gillespie of Hufflepuff,
who, like all the Hufflepuffs, emulated Cedric's fluid, effortless flying style. Too bad Cedric ended
up as a keeper. Hannah swore she would pay gold just to watch him fly free as a seeker. And Mike
was cut from the same mold.
She also enjoyed watching Cho Chang of Ravenclaw, who also was a graceful flyer, although not as
fluid as Mike or Cedric. Hannah also loved to watch Harry Potter fly. He was probably the most
powerful flyer she had ever seen. And he had the best broom, which only made him that much more
interesting to watch. But Hannah found that watching him was an ordeal at times because he took so
many reckless chances. She wasn't as enamoured of Draco Malfoy, who was not as good a flyer as
the other three, but who tried to make up for it through rough play. She frowned at the thought. He
had a great broom, but he just sat there and hovered, watching for the snitch and trailing the rival
seeker, counting on the speed of the broom to outrun the opposition to the snitch. She shrugged.
Malfoy played Quidditch like he did everything else, like an opportunist trying to pass as a hero,
she thought.
Hannah sighed again. Another thing about Sunday duty was that it interfered with her time with
Ernie. They had been sneaking out on Sunday nights for nearly a year now to be alone together. But
that was out now. Ernie needed a nap even more than she did, as he had the 2:00 to 6:00 shift,
despite his protests that they could still sneak out for an hour during the evening. Hannah had mixed
feelings about this new development.
She dearly loved Ernie and thought that she would probably end up marrying him when they
graduated. But that was three years away. And Ernie was getting a little more aggressive during
their snogging sessions since they returned for their fifth year. Sure she was 15 years old--15-and-ahalf--but she wasn't ready for the kinds of demands he was making. More than once she had felt it
necessary to slap his hand away from where it didn't belong. And they'd had several 'discussions'
about this. Discussions which recently had rapidly resulted in tears and sulks. Hannah didn't care
who was doing what with whom. She would do what she felt comfortable with and no more. And
Ernie was having trouble dealing with that.
She was frowning when she looked down the first floor corridor again. She didn't like the fact that
only one in three torches were lit. When all the torches were lit, the shadows danced. With two
thirds of them out, shadows lurked. She looked over at Jack, who had his feet up on the desk in the
corridor as he casually thumbed through a Quidditch magazine.
Then, just as she was about to turn back to her history of magic text, she thought she saw a shadow
move. She jerked up to look again. "Jack," she whispered urgently. "I thought I saw something."
Jack turned quickly to look in the direction of Hannah's stare. He turned back and shrugged. "Didn't
see anything."
Hannah continued to stare, hoping that the shadows would morph into something friendly. She
turned back to Jack. "Do you think we should check?" she asked, wide-eyed in anxiety.
Bletchley shrugged. "Why not?"
The two prefects rose and walked down the corridor past the side entrance to the library and toward
the grand entrance to the castle. After looking around, they went down the stairs to the main doors.
58
They remained locked and, after Hannah tried an unlocking charm and was satisfied that the
reinforced locking charms held, Bletchley shrugged once again. "Well, I suppose it's time to make
the rounds anyway," he said, and the two prefects began to wander the corridors throughout the
castle.
They were already on the fourth floor when the shadow returned to the first floor and quietly
entered a doorway that, until it uttered a charm, hadn't been there.
***
Sirius sat in his room above Hogsmeade branch of Gladrags. It was small, with just enough room to
pace, but not enough to pace effectively.
There was a bed, a nightstand, a dresser and wardrobe, a desk and a chair. He had bought another
small table to keep a few extra books and some pictures. It also served as a stand for the stone
baseplate for when he used heating charms to cook some meager fare. Underneath the desk was a
box where he kept some canned goods. Another box for perishables had a series of cooling charms
to serve as a refrigerator.
Just off the room was a small, private bathroom, with a toilet and shower stall. He had paid the
landlord a premium to have a private shower. There was nothing he enjoyed more than that shower.
After nearly 15 years of bathing out of bowls in Azkaban or in cold streams while on the run, a hot
shower as like heaven.
But that was his one luxury. And the only solace in a deadly dull life. One week here and he was
ready to go mad.
He needed something to do. Dumbledore had assured him that his services to the Order of the
Phoenix would be needed soon. Sirius harbored doubts. For over two years, he had been ready to
act. But for virtually the entire time, he had simply sat and waited. He had reluctantly returned to
his family's ancestral home at 12 Grimauld Place several times in the past few months for meetings
of the Order. But he would not stay. Despite Dumbledore's assurances that this would be the one
place where he would be safe, Sirius knew he would not be safe--not from the bad memories and
anger that he grew up with in his youth. So he stayed just outside Hogsmeade in his cave as
Snuffles, waiting.
He had told himself that Hogsmeade was the best place to be in case something happened to Harry.
He also knew that he would not be called upon to do anything out in the open to help Harry for fear
of exposing himself to capture. But he felt he needed to be there in case an emergency arose.
And then, an emergency did arise. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had come for Harry. And Sirius
wasn't there to help. He was still in his cave, still waiting, oblivious to the threat.
And so it was now. All he could do was sit in his room and wait, oblivious of whatever threats
loomed, reliant solely on Dumbledore's call to action. Sirius doubted there would be one. The
Headmaster cautioned that the notoriety of Sirius's pardon--his face plastered all over the
newspapers for several days, even supplanting Harry's and Parvati's exploits on the fourth day after
the incident in the Forbidden Forest--made any undercover work impossible.
So Sirius sat in his room above Gladrags waiting for a call to action that he knew would not come
any time soon.
He moved to the small window in his room and peered out. He could see the towers of the castle in
the distance, the bulk of the school obscured by a row of shops here in Hogsmeade. He chuckled.
He could see the Ravenclaw Tower and the Astronomy tower the clearest. Beyond that, he could
just make out the Gryffindor Tower and the North Tower.
He was there in Hogsmeade for Harry. But he knew now that Harry would not be able to visit
59
except on Hogsmeade weekends. Sirius knew that the local merchants had petitioned the Ministry
to schedule those weekends more regularly, like in the old days. And, with the presence of Aurors
on the streets of Hogsmeade and at the castle, Dumbledore had relented to Ministry pressure and
agreed to scheduling student Hogsmeade visits once every two weeks.
But that left an awful lot of time in between. Sirius stood up and took the five paces forward to the
wall of his room, then turned and paced the five steps back.
Oh, for something else to do.
He picked up his copy of the Daily Prophet, but promptly discarded it again. He looked out the
window at the fading sun and scowled. He looked around the room again and sighed. 'What the
hell,' and reached for his robe. It was time he faced the world, or at least a little corner of it, on his
own. A free man.
***
Sirius stepped into the Three Broomsticks. It was not a hard-drinking bar like the Hogs Head. Too
many students from Hogwarts celebrating Hogsmeade weekends once a month shaped the bar's
character. Rather, it was not actually those once-a-month forays by students, but the memories of
Hogsmeade weekends past of generations of former Hogwarts students who returned to the
Broomsticks whenever they came to Hogsmeade or, for those who lived in the area, made it their
regular hangout that made it what it was.
It was Hogwarts that shaped the character of the Broomsticks. The true hard drinkers felt out of
place amid such a preppy wizarding crowd. Firewhiskey was cheaper, and the staff more tolerant, at
the Hogs Head. You went to the Broomsticks to talk, relax, and remember first dates, first loves and
loves lost. You went to the Hogs Head to drink and forget.
So it was for Sirius Black as he stepped cautiously into the Three Broomsticks. He knew he had to
be careful. He had heard from members of the Order of the Phoenix during the few meetings he was
able to attend, from learned people like Kingsley Shacklebolt, who theorized, and thieves like
Mundungus Fletcher, who really knew, that heavy drinking right out of Azkaban or some other
wizarding prison was the quickest ticket back. So he was there at the Three Broomsticks for just a
couple drinks and a triple shot of memories, fellowship and good cheer.
And he was there for Madam Rosmerta.
"Sirius!" she called out to him as she turned to see him. She stepped out from behind the bar and
gave him a warm hug. "How long has it been!"
Sirius leaned down into her hair. It had lost some of its blond luster over the years and was showing
strands of gray. But she still was the same Ro' that he had fallen in love with when he was 15 years
old.
"About three weeks," he whispered in her ear as she pushed him out to arm's length to get a better
look at him.
***
Madam Rosmerta had been one of the few in the wizarding world who believed in Sirius's
innocence. But then, Rosmerta had 25 years of hearing and keeping secrets, and discerning the
underlying truths that those secrets revealed.
Her years at the Three Broomsticks meant that she was also one of the few adults privy to the
secrets so carefully guarded by Hogwarts students. So when she noticed a large black dog pawing
through the garbage she had left next to the magical Dispos-All bin behind the Three Broomsticks
nearly two years ago, she knew it was probably him.
60
And so the next time Padfoot came sneaking around the back of the Three Broomsticks after hours,
he found a sizable lump of ham on the back steps.
His occasional forays to this same spot over the course of several months ended when, as Padfoot,
or Snuffles as Harry now knew him, he was about to grab what looked to be nearly a pound of a
roast. Suddenly, Rosmerta stepped out from behind the Dispos-All and spoke. "If you expect me to
feed you, you better let me know when I can expect you, Padfoot. I've probably wasted several
pounds of good meat leaving it out here for you only to find you never showed up."
Sirius made to bolt, but paused and turned to give Rosmerta a sad-eyed dog look.
Rosmerta had smiled. "I know it's you. And I haven't told anyone. And I won't. So why don't you
come in and I can give you a decent meal."
Thus began their ritual where Sirius, as Padfoot, would leave a bone or a rag or piece of torn cloth
in a special spot behind the Three Broomsticks every two or three weeks, whenever he really
needed some food or just a spot of company. He could get a late-night dinner of leftovers from the
bar and the two old friends would simply chat.
Sirius would have liked more, but Rosmerta would never give him the opportunity and would never
talk about herself. She was a barkeep, more just a listener. So she let him talk, which he did
sparingly, or simply gave him the opportunity to eat a warm meal in the presence of someone who
cared about him.
***
Now he was a free man, allowed to talk to respectable people in public, and Rosmerta was grateful
for the end of his suffering. She smiled. "I expected you to look like a mangy dog. But you look
pretty good. A little thin, but we'll fix that up soon enough. Come on, your money's no good here.
I'll fix you up with something warm. What'll it be? Ale? Old Ogden's?"
Sirius smiled and shook his head. "Butterbeer. You don't know how much I missed you serving me
butterbeers on cold winter nights."
Rosmerta laughed and led him to a spot in the end of the bar. She whispered to a pretty young
barmaid, who proceeded to carve off slices of ham for a thick sandwich. Soon, he had the huge
sandwich, along with a couple pickled eggs and onions and a pile of chips in front of him. He pulled
out a stack of coins, but Ro, serving up a warm butterbeer, pushed them away.
"Hey, Ro. Come on. I just got my first payment from the Ministry. I've got money. And
Dumbledore is working on getting me what the Ministry confiscated from my Gringotts account
when I went away. You're looking at a gentlewizard of leisure," he said with a wry smile.
Rosmerta turned back and leaned across the bar to him. "What did they finally settle on? Monthly
pension of a hundred Galleons? That seems pretty mean considering how much they took from
you."
Sirius looked down and shrugged. "It was the best Albus could do," he said in a quiet voice.
"You've seen the papers. They think the Ministry is nuts, giving money away to a mass murderer,"
he muttered bitterly.
Rosmerta sighed and reached out to grab his wrist. "There's a lot of us, those who cared about you,
who knew you were innocent."
Sirius looked up at her with sad, glistening eyes. "I know, Ro. And I'll never forget that."
Rosmerta walked down to the other end of the bar to take care of another customer. Sirius sighed
and watched her. She was still a beautiful woman, he thought with a small smile. And she's been
through a lot, losing a husband to Voldemort and fighting those who tried to take her bar from her
61
when she was young. And he still carried a torch for her from back in his student days. He sighed
again.
She wandered back when he finished his sandwich and his butterbeer. "Another?" she asked with a
fond smile.
Sirius returned her warm smile. "Sure. Oh, and Ro. Doing anything after closing?"
Slowly, a note of sadness crept into Rosmerta's smile. "I don't think that would be a good idea," she
said in a soft voice.
Sirius sighed even again. "No?"
She leaned close to him. "Sirius, you're, what? Thirty-five? Well, I'm forty-four. I've got a nice guy
my age. We get along together and know what we want from each other and know what we can
give each other. You need someone who can help you get back into the world, who can give you
back some of the youth you lost. I can't do that for you. You need to dance. I need someone to rub
my feet at the end of the day. No, Sirius. Sorry."
Sirius looked at her with sad eyes and smiled. "You're still the prettiest witch I ever knew."
Rosmerta burst out laughing. "You are absolutely shameless, Sirius Black. You always were and
you always will be. Here, let me get you that butterbeer."
For what seemed to be the tenth time that night, Sirius Black sighed. He turned his attention to the
barmaid. She was young, but quite pretty, with a thick shock of blond hair twisted and pinned
saucily at the top of her head. He gave an internal shrug and began gazing at her with a smile.
Rosmerta returned with his bottle of butterbeer. She tapped his forearm and he turned to see her
smiling a little sadly again. "Sirius, could you do me one big favor?"
Sirius looked at her carefully. "You know I'd do anything for you."
She gave him a brief nod. "I know how you are," she said in a soft, kind voice. "But please, stay
away from Helga. She's very young and has a nice young man. I like him. And I don't think she's
ready for someone like you."
Sirius's jaw dropped and he looked back at the barmaid, who was chatting merrily with a couple of
the customers at the bar.
Sirius suddenly felt light-headed.
He was suddenly fifteen again, seeing the pretty blond barmaid who was married to the jovial
owner of the Three Broomsticks. Then he was sixteen, sighing that this pretty barmaid was still
friendly, flirting with the students, but noticeably pregnant. The teenaged Sirius would daydream
about being grown up and being married to Ro and that the child she was carrying was his. And, at
nearly seventeen, the scariest moment of his young life, when Ro placed the tiny baby in his arms to
hold. Sirius had never imagined something so precious and tiny and delicate being entrusted to him.
Someone as precious and tiny and delicate as Helga.
"That's...Helga?"
Rosmerta smiled at Sirius and merely nodded. "Okay?"
Sirius took a deep breath and nodded, feeling very, very old.
***
Sirius was still brooding over his butterbeer when he heard a voice from the back.
"Hey, you're Sirius Black. What did it feel like to kill all those people?"
62
Sirius turned swiftly, his wand out, to see a middle-aged wizard with rheumy eyes, looking at him
expectantly...at least until he saw the wand pointed at him.
"Sirius Black!" a male voice barked from near the entrance to the bar.
Sirius now wheeled toward the new threat, only to be met with an "Expelliarmus."
He was facing a younger man in Auror's robes, who was down on one knee, leaning to his left,
Sirius's right, pointing his wand at Sirius's chest.
"Calm down, Sirius," Shane Patil said in a soothing voice. Shane leaned over and grabbed Sirius's
wand from the floor and stood up and walked over to the bar.
"You!" Shane said sharply, turning his wand on Sirius's middle-aged taunter. "Out!"
'The wizard looked back and forth between Shane and Rosmerta.
"Keep acting up, Cliff, and I'll ban you. Then you'll be stuck with the Hogs Head. And Jake the
bartender over there isn't as forgiving as I am," Rosmerta said like an exasperated parent to an
unruly child. "Go home to your wife, before she comes here to get you," she said in a milder voice.
The wizard put some coins on the bar and scurried out.
Rosmerta turned to the Auror. "Back again, Shan? I didn't think you'd be back now that you're
married. Or at least I hoped you wouldn't be. Not alone, anyway," she said with a sly smile.
Shane lowered his head. "It's Shane now. And I came here looking for Sirius."
Rosmerta raised her eyebrows. "A new name, Shan? And maybe a new lifestyle?" she asked,
smirking.
Shane frowned and looked embarrassed. "No. Nothing like that. I've got a couple of kids now and a
third on the way. And Sirius..."
For the first time, Sirius saw Shane flustered. And the anger he was feeling at the rude wizard and
being spelled by Shane slowly faded. He casually reached over and grabbed his wand back. "Okay,
Red Robe. What do you want?"
Shane turned to Sirius, having nearly forgotten he was there. "Uhhh...let's get a table in the back."
Once they were seated, Helga stepped over to take their orders. Sirius asked for another butterbeer,
but Shane merely asked for a sweet tea.
Sirius leaned toward Shane. "What the hell was that all about?" he asked, nodding his head toward
Rosmerta. "And keep away from Helga. She's like a daughter to me."
Shane frowned as Helga dropped off their orders. He didn't even look up at her. "I don't think
Madam Rosmerta ever liked me," he muttered.
"Why not," Sirius asked, now intrigued.
Shane shrugged. "She was always pulling me aside when I was a student and lecturing me about
how I treated my girlfriends. I had a few girlfriends while I was at Hogwarts, but Rosmerta was
always on my case."
Sirius looked at the younger man. "Don't tell me. You were a heartbreaker," he said, chuckling.
"Tell me, did she ever yell at you?"
Shane shrugged. "No, not really. She would just tell me about how I should treat girls with respect
and not hurt them. You know, not hurt their feelings and things like that."
Sirius snorted. "She liked you. If she was really mad, she'd yell at you. She got me good once when
I was dating two girls at the same time. Told me not to come back to the bar until I made a choice."
63
Sirius shrugged. "So I did. The girl I chose ended up breaking up with me a couple months later
anyway. And Ro got James...Harry's father...real good once over Lily...Harry's mother, when they
were dating here. But if she just pulled you aside to give you advice, that meant she liked you
enough to care how you were acting."
Shane shrugged again.
Sirius snorted again. "And I see it didn't sink in. You have no clue."
Shane made a face.
Sirius lowered his head and stared intently at Patil. "No wonder you never caught me. You must be
some Auror. You come here looking for me and I end up interrogating you. And what was that
keeling-over act you put on when you disarmed me?"
Shane blinked. "Oh...well, I didn't know how quick you were and whether the disarming spell
would work."
Sirius looked at him, puzzled. "So?"
Shane shrugged. "Well, most wizards are right-handed. We knew you were right-handed. And righthanded wizards, wheeling quickly to their left, tend to cast their curses high and to their victim's
right. So we're taught when facing a situation like that to go low and lean left. That way, chances
are any curse would go over our right shoulders and would give us a clear shot at our own curse or
counter curse."
"Ravenclaw?" Sirius asked with a wry smile.
Shane nodded.
Sirius chuckled. "You sound like one. So, when does the interrogation start?"
"I didn't come here as an Auror. Maybe as a friend."
Sirius smiled to himself. "And...?"
Shane looked down at his tea. "I was just wondering about Harry and my sister."
Sirius paused and frowned. "Harry's a good kid," he said firmly.
Shane gave a half shrug. "I'm sure he is. It's just that we keep getting these mixed signals about
him."
Sirius stared intently. "Such as...?"
"Well, we keep getting these whispers, and sometimes not so quiet warnings, mostly from the
Ministry, that maybe that curse to the head he took when he was young scrambled Harry's brains a
little. You know, that he's a little paranoid. Maybe even schizophrenic. Like a ticking time bomb."
"Balls!" Sirius exclaimed.
Shane shrugged. "There are others that say he's fine, that he's right to be paranoid--that even
paranoids have enemies. And that Voldemort really is out there after him. People like the big guy at
Law Enforcement, Masterson. And Cyrus Jordan. You met him. I guess they were proven right on
that point."
Sirius was breathing hard, trying to hold his temper. "And you want to know who's right?" he said
sarcastically.
Shane fidgeted. "I think I know. It's just that I need to be sure. It's my sister I'm concerned about."
Sirius pondered for a moment. "I don't know what you want me to tell you."
64
Shane sipped his tea. "Look, I just want to know if he's safe. You know, safe for her."
Sirius peered again at the Auror.
Shane was now feeling uncomfortable. "Look, I don't want this getting back to him. You know,
Harry. But I think Parvati has liked him for a long time."
"What do you mean?"
Shane took a deep breath. "Well, we were all curious about him when we found out he was going to
Hogwarts. You know, 'The Boy Who Lived' and all. So every time we would bring up the subject,
Parvati would go on and on about how he was 'cute and mysterious,' or 'cute but a prat,' or 'cute and
heroic,' or 'cute and conceited.' Then, I guess he asked her to the Yule Ball last year," he said quietly
as he took another sip of his tea.
Sirius simply listened.
"You have to understand that I don't see her that often. Just occasionally during the summer and at
family gatherings at Christmas. And she owls me maybe two or three times a year, usually
birthdays or our wedding anniversary. But last December, I get this two-page parchment about how
Harry finally asked her out and how she was going crazy about making sure she looked nice and
how much fun they would have together."
Sirius shook his head and watched his new friend.
Shane took another deep breath. "Then, we--my wife Janine and the kids and I--get to the family
gathering for Christmas and Parvati and Padma are both in foul moods, sniping at each other, and
Parvati is going on and on about what a prat Harry is and how her roommate Hermione is a bitch
and how maybe this French kid she met knows how to treat a girl. I guess things didn't work out too
well between Harry and Parvati. And Padma is annoyed at Parvati over the Yule Ball for getting her
hopes up over this Weasley kid and this and that. I thought it was funny, but my other sister, ShiShi...uh, Lakshmi, gave me hell over some flip comment I made," he said, giving a shrug.
Sirius nodded.
Shane cleared his throat. "Now I find they are suddenly a couple." He paused and looked Sirius in
the eye. "I'm not worried about Parvati being able to handle herself, or whether she'll end up broken
hearted and all that. She's pretty strong, and that stuff is all part of growing up. I'm just concerned
that some of those stories about Harry being a little off may have something to them. It's one thing
for her to sulk about the house about breaking up with a boyfriend. It's another if he might be some
sort of time bomb. If he is a little off, well, Parvati likes him a lot and may miss the signs that
something's wrong. She's already had to face Voldemort because of him. I don't want him to
suddenly turn into some monster on her."
Sirius pursed his lips. He was ready to explode at the man across the table. But he realized that
Shane was right to be concerned about his sister. Sirius rubbed his hand across his face in
concentration. "I don't know what to tell you. I kept thinking of him as a shy, earnest kid who
maybe would grow up like his dad."
Shane tilted his head. "What was his father like?"
Sirius looked directly at Shane. "We were pretty carefree. His dad was a rich kid, but a real good
guy. A decent guy. We had our fun, but he was all right. And a good friend."
Shane paused. "And Harry...he's like that?"
"I think so. Maybe not as outgoing as his dad. And a little more serious. But that's understandable, I
guess. We didn't go through what Harry has. Sure, Voldemort was out there when we were kids. It
was a tense time. But he was a threat to everyone. Not like with Harry. He's been a walking target
65
since he was born. And now he knows it. Not like Lily and James. They fought Voldemort. But
they didn't have to really face up to what that meant until they were grown up, until they both lost
their parents to Voldemort. And some good friends, too."
Shane merely nodded.
Sirius paused over the remnants of his butterbeer. "In Harry's case...well, there's something different
about Harry. He never had a family. He was raised by Muggle relatives who didn't take care of him.
Then he comes here and finds he's the focus of the whole thing now. He's faced Voldemort by
himself. He's seen at least one of his friends die at Voldemort's hands. Now, it's like he's got to carry
the weight of the world on his shoulders. Maybe he's been forced to grow up too fast. And Parvati
seems to be giving him his first chance to be a teenaged boy, to maybe have a chance to see what
it's like to live a normal life."
"What do you mean?" Shane asked.
Sirius began to chuckle. "When I saw him in the hospital wing with Parvati, it was like all the
pressures and fears he is facing had suddenly melted away. Like he was suddenly back to being a
15-year-old kid again. A boy who was excited, and a little bit awed, to actually have a girlfriend.
You know, the deer-caught-in-an-illuminatus-charm look."
Shane joined Sirius, chuckling. Suddenly, his face turned serious again. "You don't think he's
dangerous?"
"No." Sirius said, shaking his head. "The danger comes from outside. From Voldemort. From the
Death Eaters. Harry is coping. And he's a decent kid. Sometimes he acts like he's older than all of
us. But mostly, he just seems to want to be a kid."
Shane finished his tea and lowered his head. "I can't say I like Parvati mixed up with someone who
might put her in danger," he said quietly. "I'd feel better if she was with some anonymous kid. Not
at the tip of the sword." He heaved a sigh. "But then, that wouldn't be her."
Sirius smiled. "So she really is a Gryffindor."
Shane chuckled. "You know, we have horses at our estate. We all ride. But they're all mares or
geldings. Not Parvati. She's got an uncut stallion. Bucephalus. No one can go near it. But she rides
him like they're a single entity. Don't know how she did it," he said, shaking his head.
"Bucephalus?"
Shane chuckled. "Ox head. He was named after Alexander the Great's horse. Stubborn, ornery
thing. But Parvati wouldn't have any other horse. And she tamed him. Don't ask me how."
Sirius looked down and nodded, finishing his butterbeer. He looked up and caught Helga's eye.
"Another tea?"
Shane shook his head. "Ale."
As Helga wandered over, Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "Make it ale. Two pints."
Shane looked up and smiled. "No butterbeer buzz?"
Sirius chuckled. "Well, I'm a little out of practice with alcohol, so it would probably only take about
two dozen to give me a buzz."
Shane joined him in chuckling. "Nothing better on a cold winter day than a nice warm, foamy
butterbeer. So if I'm back here in January, I'll let you buy me one. Until then, I'll stick to ale."
Sirius nodded, then smiled. "You know, your Parvati is very pretty. But she's seems to be pretty
tough-minded," Sirius said. Then he looked up at Shane with a hint of mischief in his eye. "Maybe I
66
should be wondering whether to protect Harry from her."
Shane flinched. "He's not out for a quick shag?"
Sirius took a deep breath and looked across the bar to Helga. "I don't think so. Was that all you were
after when you were here?"
Shane blushed noticeably. "I wasn't that bad."
Sirius nodded. "Harry's a good kid. I suppose he wouldn't say no to a girl...well, if he liked her. But
I think he just needs a girlfriend. Someone who will be there for him. To be 'his' girl. So I don't
think you need to worry."
Shane took a deep breath. "Well, I guess that's about what I expected. And better than what I
feared." Suddenly, he chuckled again. "God, I'm glad I'm not a teenager anymore."
The two settled in to a companionable silence as Helga served them another round.
Shane cleared his throat. "I also wondered if maybe you could help us."
"Who's 'us'?"
Shane took a thoughtful sip of his pint. "Aurors."
Sirius frowned. "What kind of help?"
Shane paused again. "Well, some help about how you managed to keep from getting caught. I
suppose we were pretty inept. There were a few of us who thought...well, maybe you shouldn't be
caught. I wasn't so sure, but some people I respect in the service seemed to be sending subtle signals
that maybe you shouldn't be caught. But the Ministry was going nuts, at least at the beginning. So
we did our best until the angry owls from No. 10 Merlin Circle let up."
Sirius nodded. "Fudge must have had a heart attack when I got out. But I didn't see too much
activity in the past year or so. I was scared that I might start getting complacent."
Shane smiled and gave a half shrug. "We had enough gung-ho types that always seemed to be hot
on your trail all over the U.K. and Ireland. We had one who swore he saw you in Diagon Alley and
actually took a job in a chemist shop just to watch for you."
Sirius lowered his head. "I haven't been in Diagon Alley in nearly 15 years."
Shane fiddled with a condensation ring on the table. "What I'm saying is that you had us chasing
our tails for over two years. We could really use your help at the Auror Academy for the new
people and some of us older types who go up there for a refresher. It's not much. They pay 25
Galleons a day for consultancy. You could probably do a couple days a month. But it would really
help us."
Sirius put his head down. Did he really want to help the Red Robes? But this would give him
something to do, something to look forward to. Not like a real job, but who would hire a suspected
mass murderer, someone who did hard time in Azkaban? He looked up at the Auror. "I'll think
about it. But it seems like a decent deal. Just let me know what you need and I'll tell you if I think I
can do it."
Shane looked up. "There's one more thing. You've probably been around the underworld more than
any of our people. Maybe sometime you could help me out with my work undercover."
Sirius looked at Shane with a startled expression. "You? Undercover?"
Shane nodded, a small smile forming at the sides of his mouth. "It's the one thing I can do well. I
was undercover for two years in P-Town. That is, until they pulled me to chase you."
Sirius gave him a quizzical look. "Portsmouth?"
67
Shane gave Sirius a wary smile. "I'm pretty good." Then he chuckled. "You have to understand my
family. Somehow, I think through my mum, we all caught something of a theatrical bug. You met
my brothers? Monkey--Hanuman--is always play-acting, obsessing is probably a better word, on
something, like being a Sikh or playing Mr. Ministry Man or whatever. My youngest brother thinks
he's going to be the next Quidditch star, but couldn't make any of the pro teams here. So now he is
busy trying to get a try-out with the Indian National Quidditch Team," he said laughing into his
mug. "My oldest brother wants nothing more than to be a stage actor, but he doesn't dare tell dad
about it. After all, he's the heir apparent. Parvati wanted to be a prima ballerina. The theatrical gene
must have bypassed my other two sisters, Padma and Lakshmi, although I bet if you scratched the
surface, you'd find Shi-Shi or Padma have some secret ambition to be an opera singer or exotic
dancer or something like that. And me? I get off going undercover, playing the gangster wizard.
Except in my business, you don't get bad reviews. You get cursed, or worse."
Sirius smiled thoughtfully at the Auror. "I don't know how much I could help you. But I do know
some people I can introduce you to. I'll see what I can do," he said with a more genuine smile.
Maybe life won't end up as dreary as he had feared, Sirius thought.
***
The owls swooped down for their daily mail deliveries. Malfoy didn't look up. There would be no
mail for him today. Or ever. So he was surprised when a nondescript, wizarding postal service barn
owl swooped down and dropped a letter in his lap.
He scooped up the letter and held it out. He blinked. It was from his aunt, or at least that was what
she was referred to, even though she was more like a second cousin, once removed. Carmina
Malfoy Delaney.
Or at least that was who it was presumed to be from. But the parchment bore a return address as
from Carmina M. Delaney. A chill went through Draco's body. Aunt Carmina would never
abbreviate her maiden name. He closed his eyes and quickly stuffed the letter in his robe.
Back in this dorm, Draco opened the letter.
Dearest Draco,
I hope you are bearing up in this time of tragedy. Just remember, I will always be there for you if
you need me.
Love,
Aunt Carmina
Draco stepped to the door and quickly checked the common room. Greinglass and Blythe were not
there. So he stepped back into the dorm and set the letter on his desk. He took out his wand and
tapped the letter three times.
"Draconis, heres ex asse serpens."
The words in the letter slowly reformed.
Draco picked it up and read.
Son,
Deliver or destroy the boy and you will be rewarded beyond your dreams. Destroy his slut and earn
a father's eternal gratitude.
L.
Draco leaned back on his chair. He read the letter again and frowned. Suddenly, he leaned forward
68
and spit on the letter and tossed it on the desk.
"Incendio."
His face darkened as the letter burned intensely, leaving little but the smell of smoke.
"I don't need rewards," he growled. "I don't need gratitude."
He took a deep breath.
"What I do, I do for me. And for mum."
69
CHAPTER SIX "YOU DID THIS TO ME"
"Hermione," the voice called.
It was a voice she didn't want to hear. Or was it a voice she was longing to hear?
"Come on, Hermione. Your study chair is still reserved."
She turned slowly, her mind working at a furious pace. She gave him a crooked, uncertain smile.
"Harry, I've got to get a couple books out of the library," she said, feeling the heat rise in her
cheeks.
He, too, was giving her an uncertain grin. "Come on. We don't have any major research stuff due
tomorrow. Just regular homework."
She noticed he was shifting slightly in nervousness. It had been ten days since he had faced
Voldemort...make that since he and Parvati had faced Voldemort, she thought with a twinge in her
stomach. She glanced over at the fifth-year study table and saw her. And Parvati didn't look entirely
happy with Harry.
Hermione sighed. "I really should use the library. There is a History of Magic paper due at next
week," she said tentatively.
Harry lowered his head slightly but continued to look directly at her. Suddenly, she noticed a hint of
mischief in his face. "You don't want to be responsible for Ron and I failing, do you?" he said with
a small, sly grin.
She looked at Harry and smiled inwardly. He wasn't mad at her. And he wasn't avoiding her. She
tried to sort her feelings. There were moments she wanted to strangle him for what he did, rejecting
her in favor of Parvati. And there were times when she wanted to throw herself off the Astronomy
Tower for being so stupid. And there were times when she just missed him.
It had been two and a half weeks since she missed her chance with him. And missed it so
spectacularly. And those two and a half weeks without him to talk to, without him being her best
friend, were like walking death.
"I don't know," she said, stalling for time, trying to decide. She glanced again at Parvati, who was
frowning as she looked down at her text, then giving Harry a quick glance, then returning to her text
again. Hermione felt she didn't need a fight with Parvati. She had enough heartache without adding
to it.
But maybe Ginny was right. How long would Harry last with Parvati. She knew of Parvati's temper
and her track record with boys. And it might be best to be as close to Harry as possible now and
simply wait for the inevitable.
Harry sighed. "I guess Ron and I will have to face the O.W.L.s alone, then. Not to mention Snape."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh for goodness sake. Stop complaining," she said with an exasperated
smile, and started moving toward the study table. "And I'm not letting either of you copy my
homework."
Harry grinned and returned to the table.
***
The sixth and seventh-year study tables were on the right and left sides of the big fireplace. But the
fifth year study table, while not as close, was directly against the wall opposite the fireplace, where
70
it caught some of the warmth. And in mid-October, that warmth was a valuable commodity.
As Hermione approached the table, she saw that Harry was right. Her place at the end of the table
was vacant. And now that she thought of it, the few times she glanced over to the table as she would
scurry in or out of the common room on her way to or from the library, she always noticed that her
spot was empty. It was the best spot, she thought, because it gave her a chance to spread out a little
more than if she were between students.
Not that the table was usually full. After all, there were only eight of them and the table was
designed for ten and could be charmed for twelve in a pinch. But she usually liked to spread her
books out for easy access, often working with three or four, or even more, open at a time. And that
space was there for her.
But there was a difference. Harry had always sat across from her at the end of the table, with Ron at
her side and Neville at Harry's side. Now, Harry and Neville had switched, presumably so Harry
could sit next to Parvati, who had switched seats with Lavender, who now sat at the opposite end of
the table. Seamus and Dean, who made few appearances at the study table except at exam time or
when there was a particularly demanding assignment, always took spots opposite Parvati and
Lavender.
Hermione pursed her lips at this new arrangement, but sighed and dropped her satchel on the table
and sat down. She drew out her potions text and a couple reference books she kept on hand and
started reading. But she was no more than a couple paragraphs in before she glanced up at Harry.
He was looking at her and gave her a smile, then resumed his own reading.
***
The assignment was fairly straightforward. A simple skin healing potion, designed for use on cuts
or abrasions. The real tricky one would be coming up in a couple weeks, with the skin-growing
potion. Hermione sighed. She wasn't looking forward to that one.
She had gotten so far behind over the past couple weeks, she thought. Not that she was truly behind.
She normally was about a month ahead of the class in her studies. But with all that had happened,
all her pain and turmoil, first over Harry, then over Harry and Voldemort, then over Harry and
Parvati, she had fallen far behind her own schedule. She had read the potions text through once, to
get a feel for the range of studies for the year. But she wasn't even close to have gotten through it a
second time for annotation purposes. And now, she was struggling to keep pace to make sure she
thoroughly understood her current assignments to the level that she wished. It was not enough to
pass. It was not enough to gain high marks. Her goal was to completely understand each subject.
Mastery of a subject was her goal. The high marks were simply an indicator of such mastery.
As she turned the page she noticed the quiet whispers. The common room was not the best place to
study. There was noise, movement, the occasional shouts or arguments, and the threat of whatever
Fred and George were about to distract you. But Hermione always found the convivial, communal
atmosphere to be comforting as she studied.
So she could easily ignore Ron next to her muttering as he scratched away at his parchment with a
blunt quill. Neville was acting somewhat differently than she remembered, reading through a few
paragraphs, then leaning back and closing his eyes, then returning to read those paragraphs again,
adding a few notes in the margins of his text. But, as always, he would sigh at unexpected times.
Seamus and Dean, when they were at the table, would read, then banter or discuss whatever they
were reading. And, of course, Lavender and Parvati would constantly chatter away quietly over this
or that point of the assignment and, if they got bored, would chatter away about anything else.
But the one constant was Harry. He was usually silent when studying. He would sit there, arms at
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his sides or in his lap, leaning over the text and reading. He would move to turn the pages or take a
few notes. He would occasionally banter with Ron or even herself, or run his hand through his hair
when he was having trouble with a topic. But otherwise, he would simply read in silence.
That's why his quiet whispering was so disconcerting. Like a quiet human voice amid a cacophony
of crickets. The crickets would not be noticed. The voice would be.
And so Hermione looked up. Harry was leaning back and to the right, with his forehead almost
touching Parvati's, as he said something quietly. At first, she could hear Parvati whispering about
working during the summers at the family import business and processing invoices. That she could
tune out. She had heard Parvati complaining about sorting through mounds of paper and having to
physically conduct inventories for her father or her sister during the past two summers. And all the
time complaining how this took time away from her riding.
Then Hermione started hearing other snippets that made little sense. "Blue tongue...bananas...blow
field." 'Blue tongue' sounded familiar, but Hermione merely shivered to think what that
conversation was about. Parvati suddenly stuck her tongue out at Harry. "Too pink," Hermione
heard him whisper and the two giggled. Hermione sulked, imagining what they were going on
about. Something sexual, no doubt, considering how Parvati and Harry were leaning against each
other, again giggling softly. Hermione lowered her head back to her book in annoyance, blushing
despite herself.
Harry suddenly smiled and returned to his reading. Parvati gave him a frown and turned to whisper
to Lavender, who shrugged. Parvati then reached over and straightened collar of Harry's oversized,
faded flannel shirt. "When are you going throw these rags out," she whispered to him in an
exasperated tone. Hermione looked up again and sighed. On this, Parvati was right. She was as sick
of the oversized shirts and sweatshirts Harry wore as Parvati was.
Hermione suddenly cursed herself. She was supposed to be studying. But she couldn't stop
watching Harry. He was reading more carefully than she remembered, being even more still than in
the past. Suddenly, he frowned and started paging back and forth in the text. He frowned again and
looked up.
"Ron. Why do they keep putting spirit of alum in all these potions? It doesn't matter what. It doesn't
do anything that I can see, but it's there in just about every potion we use."
Ron looked up at Harry. "Who cares? You just have to know it has to be there. You put it in and the
potion works. You leave it out and Snape takes 10 points. That's all you have to know. That and
make sure your supply in your potion kit is full," he said with a raised eyebrow.
Harry turned to Neville, who just shrugged.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, for goodness sake. Alum isn't part of the potion, itself. It's part of
the process that makes the potion."
The entire table turned to look at her with quizzical expressions.
She rolled her eyes again. "Look, here's the abrasion potion. It's got twelve basic ingredients, things
like aloe extract, sheep wool, aspodorah beetles, dragon hide, whatever..."
"Fourteen," Neville said.
Hermione turned to stare at Neville. "Fourteen? No, twelve."
Neville turned the page in his book and moved it around for Hermione to see. She looked at the list
and shook her head.
"No, Neville. This is exactly what I'm talking about. It's got a water base. The water is not an
essential ingredient. It's just a base for the potion. You could probably use all sorts of liquids. But
72
water is the easiest and safest. And the alum is not an ingredient in the potion itself. It just is there
to bind the necessary ingredients for the magic to work."
The group looked at her as if she were speaking in tongues.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, you need a liquid base to make the potion work. It doesn't have to
be water. You could use Old Ogden's Firewhiskey if you want, although I presume that it would
burn when applied to the wound."
Harry, Neville and Parvati began nodding in understanding. Lavender looked at Ron and shrugged.
Seamus and Dean, who had just sat down, looked perplexed.
"The same thing goes for the alum. You don't need alum for the potion to work. You can put all the
ingredients together and use your magic and you've got a serviceable potion. But it would be runny
and uneven. It would look like a soup before your strained the fat off, with clumps of potion and
pools of unusable excess. The alum is an astringent. It draws out the essences of each ingredient and
binds them together to make the magic work throughout. It's not an essential ingredient, like the
other twelve. All you need is an astringent and binding agent, and alum works best in most potions.
So? Do you understand now?"
She looked from face to face to see if they understood. But when she came to Harry's, she didn't see
understanding. She saw a fond smile. She blushed, realizing how she was being the old Hermione
again, being relaxed and enthusiastic and exasperated as she tried to explain abstract concepts to
sometimes interested, sometimes bored, sometimes perplexed classmates and friends.
And she suddenly realized what Harry had done. More than talking to her, more than making her sit
down at the table, he had used his question to welcome her back. Not just to the study table, but into
Gryffindor common room and into her classmates' lives again. She gave Harry a quick fond smile in
return. Suddenly, she gave him her stern, McGonagall look again. "Do you understand now?"
Harry simply smiled in return and nodded.
***
There was nothing worse to spoil the appetite for lunch than a hour of Potions immediately
preceding the meal, Harry thought as he wandered down to the dungeons.
But in the past week or so, Potions had taken on a surreal feel. The Slytherins, once a united front
and cheering section against anything Gryffindor, now seemed to be preoccupied, almost at war
with itself.
A sullen Pansy had now paired herself off with a preoccupied Millie Bulstrode to prepare her
potions. Glenn Greinglass and Aubrey Blythe partnered as usual, but no longer seemed to be a
chuckling cheering section for Malfoy. Leah Greinglass and Blaise Zabini continued to be partners,
ever silent and seemingly above the fray. Which left Draco by himself, without Pansy or his nowdeparted partners in crime, Crabbe and Goyle, with only Aubrey and Glenn, whom he disliked, to
partner with when necessary.
On the way down to the dungeons, Hermione could contain herself no longer. "Why did Crabbe and
Goyle leave?" she whispered to Harry. "They weren't expelled because of their fathers, were they?
And why wasn't Malfoy expelled as well?"
Parvati leaned across Harry to answer. "Hermione, they don't come from rich families. So they
withdrew before then end of the first term to get part of their tuition money back. Their families are
going to need that money."
Hermione blinked. "How much are they getting back?" she whispered urgently.
Parvati shrugged. "Two-thirds, minus deposits and fees. About 500 Galleons, maybe a little less."
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Both Harry and Hermione gasped. "That's over _4,000," she said. "I never realized it cost that
much.
Parvati gave a wry smile. "It's closer to _5,000, if you know where to go."
The three were still shaking their heads over the cost of a Hogwarts education when Malfoy strode
past rapidly, his head down as if deep in thought.
At that moment, the fifth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were coming out of the dungeons.
Susan Bones had just turned to say something to Megan Jones when Malfoy slammed into her,
sending them both sprawling, knocking Malfoy hard into the wall and scattering his books and
notes all over the corridor.
Malfoy looked venomously up at Susan, who was kept from falling by Megan and Pamela
Hutchinson. "You stupid bitch. Look what you did. Why didn't you die with the rest of your
family," he growled, as he grabbed an armful of books and papers and stalked off to Potions.
Susan went white, then burst into tears.
Harry felt the fury grow but controlled it as he saw the shock and horror on Susan's tearful face. He
knew Susan was, like him, one of four 'Voldemort orphans' currently at Hogwarts--five if you
counted Neville--from the Dark Lord's first reign of terror. He reached out to touch Susan's arm in
sympathy as her classmates closed in around her for comfort. She looked up briefly through her
tears and the two passed mournful looks of understanding before Susan leaned against her best
friend Hannah Abbott.
'Malfoy will pay,' Harry thought as he led a furious Parvati and a shocked Hermione into the
dungeons.
***
Harry was still brooding in Potions when he heard Snape bark his name.
"Mr. Potter," Snape said, peering down his nose at Harry. "Where would we find a Blue Tongue?"
"In a Smurf's mouth," Dean whispered to Seamus.
"Or a Smurf's girlfriend's mouth," Seamus replied with a giggle.
"Mr. Finnegan," Snape intoned. "Something to contribute?"
Seamus sunk down in his seat, turning red.
Snape was about to say something more, perhaps to deduct house points, but returned instead to
Harry, who had a wry smile on his face. "Mr. Potter, the class is breathlessly awaiting your answer,"
Snape said with a sneer.
Harry took a deep breath. "The best quality Blue Tongues come from South Africa, particularly the
Blaufeld plantation. You can get them much cheaper from local nurseries, of course, but if you want
top quality for your potion ingredients, you are better off with South African imports," he said,
smiling smugly.
Snape looked at Harry with a startled expression. He suddenly wheeled and grabbed a herbology
reference book and paged quickly to the entry. "South African origin," it read.
Snape then pulled out a drawer beneath the lectern and pulled out a sheaf of invoices. He paged
quickly through until he found the correct one. "Strelitzia-2 cwt @ 22 Gal. Origin: Blaufeld/Bothe;
FOB: Durban, S.A."
Snape slowly looked up at Harry with shock and anger. "Mr. Potter. Where did you get that
information?"
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Harry blinked innocently. "I studied, professor."
At this point, Parvati and Lavender grabbed each other's hands tightly to try to keep each other from
bursting out in laughter.
Snape, trying desperately to regain his composure, again looked down his nose at Harry. "I wasn't
asking the physical location of the ingredient. A simple description would have sufficed."
Harry shrugged. "It's the seed pod of the Bird-of-Paradise flower, a relative of the banana family,"
he said matter-of-factly. "Uhhh...It's scientific name is...Strelitzia."
Hermione gasped. So that's where she had heard of the Blue Tongue. She pressed the heel of her
palm into her forehead in frustration.
Snape's face was now showing an unaccustomed color. Suddenly, he simply nodded. "Correct, Mr.
Potter." He stopped and took a deep breath. "Two points for Gryffindor," he muttered and wheeled
to resume writing on the blackboard.
***
Harry was making his way out of the Potions classroom when he felt a huge weight on his back.
Ron had thrown his arms around Harry from behind and leaped on Harry's back, causing him to
stagger.
"Gerroff, you Red Rascal," Harry said, laughing.
"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron cried, giving Harry a kiss on the back of his head. "That had to be
the greatest two-point play in Hogwarts history!"
Harry continued to laugh. "Don't give me any credit. Parvati told me all about that last night. Who
knew Snape would ask me about it."
Ron turned to Parvati and grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet. "You put me down,
Weasley," she cried through her laughter. "I don't care what you say. You're not getting any tongue
from me, blue or otherwise," she exclaimed, causing the rest of the group to burst into laughter.
Even Hermione couldn't help but laugh. It was a great day to be a Gryffindor.
***
It was a rite of passage for the group.
They looked ahead at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They had been assured by the elders that
they would be safe, that the biggest of the creatures they would confront, who were the greatest of
all enemies save but one, was a friend to their kind and would protect them from harm.
They knew that the elders had gone through this in the past three years and that the big one of the
others had always protected them from the smaller ones of the others who feared and loathed them.
And all had come back unharmed. But that didn't make the whole mission less frightening.
But the one thing that spurred them on, even more than that this was their final test before
acceptance as full adults. It was the prospect of meat. Unlimited meat. More than they could eat.
And, most likely, more than they could carry home to the tribe.
They awaited the signal.
***
Ron turned to Harry as they walked down to the area around Hagrid's hut for their Care of Magical
Creatures class. "What do you think it will be this time, Harry? I heard we would get dragons some
time this year."
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Harry shrugged, as Parvati casually and gently bumped against him as they walked. Hermione, on
Ron's left, simply stared ahead in curiosity. "What's that smell?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Blimey, it smells bad, whatever it is," Ron responded.
As they neared the hut, Hagrid appeared in the doorway, looking a little nervous. He
uncharacteristically left the door to the hut ajar.
The wind shifted a little and the smell lessened. Harry looked with curiosity. Hagrid was heading
for the corral, where they all had first encountered either dangerous beasts such as Buckbeak and
the other Golden Griffins, or extremely shy and skittish creatures, such as the unicorns. "I don't
think I like the looks of this," he said as he felt Parvati take his hand more for reassurance than for
romance.
He noticed the Slytherin contingent converging from a slightly different angle and saw several
suddenly turn their heads to cough or hold their noses.
Hagrid was now pacing nervously as he went to side of the corral closest to the Forbidden Forest.
He opened the gate and left it open as he made his way to greet the students.
"Attention ever'one," he said in a firm voice. "I'll be wantin' all of yeh to be givin' me yer wands."
There was a murmur amongst the students as they looked back and forth at each other. Many simply
pulled out their wands, but several, including Harry and Ron and a few of the Slytherins, gave
Hagrid suspicious looks.
Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "Now, let's get on wit' it. This is fer yer protection as much as theirs.
That's the way," he said as he collected Harry's, Parvati's, Ron's and Hermione's wands. Reluctantly,
and with some argument, Draco, Pansy and Millicent surrendered their wands.
Hagrid cleared his throat. "Now, remember wot I tole yeh at the beginning of the term. Not all
magical creatures are pretty like a unicorn. An' not all are as harmless, neither. But the purpose of
this class is to know how to approach and deal wit all magical creatures. To know 'em an' to know
of 'em. So I want yeh all to gather around an' grab one of them tongs. Once yeh do that, I want yeh
all to go to that large bucket there and grab a hunk a' meat and bring it to the fence. The creatures
ye'll be seeing here are interested only in the meat. So when they come out, poke the tongs through
the gaps in the corral and hold the meat out to them. They won't harm yeh."
By now, all the students were staring at each other in terror. What was going on?
"Werewolves," Glenn Greinglass muttered, and Draco flinched.
"Giants," Dean whispered.
Ron looked at him sharply as he grabbed a pair of tongs that were at least three feet long. "As if that
fence would hold a giant."
"Bridge trolls?" Lavender ventured.
Harry shrugged as the group approached the foul-smelling bin. Inside was what looked to be at least
50 kilos of beef and mutton--50 kilos that had been out at least a week too long.
Leah Greinglass suddenly turned and retched at the smell, setting off several other students.
Hagrid shook his head in frustration. "Forgot the kerchiefs," and he ran back to the hut.
Returning, he passed large bandanas around to the students. "'Ere now. Cover yer mouths and noses
wit' these. They're charmed to cut the smell."
There was a suddenly flurry of hands grabbing for the protection. Suddenly, most of the students
were breathing easier, except for the few that retched.
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"Come along now. Grab yerself a bit o' meat," Hagrid urged.
Harry managed to grab in his tongs a hunk that was at least two kilos. He turned to Parvati, who
looked in her kerchief as exotic as a veiled princess from the Arabian Nights.
"All right, let's all gather round the fence," Hagrid said in an anxious voice. "Now then, I left the
door to me hut open fer anyone what needs it. But to get full credit fer the class, yeh got to stay put.
And poke yer tongs through the gaps in the fence. If yeh have to leave, jest drop the meat inside the
corral," Hagrid said, hauling the bin with what was left of the spoiled meat behind them.
"All right, now. Put yer tongs through the fence now." Hagrid, his face covered with a bandanna
now, tilted his head back.
"Aragog! Goddagog!" he yelled.
Suddenly, a dozen spiders about the size of large dogs came streaming out of the Forbidden Forest.
They caught a whiff of the meat and dashed through the back opening of the corral and pounced on
the meat from the students' outstretched tongs.
There were screams and squeals up and down the student line. Suddenly, Pansy, Leah and Lavender
dropped their tongs and broke for Hagrid's hut. Ron had gone white as a sheet and began shaking
and moaning and swaying on his feet. Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder tightly. "Close your eyes and
imagine you're at the Burrow," he whispered in a harsh, unsteady voice.
Harry then felt Parvati's free hand grasp his right arm. "Harry," she whimpered in a tiny, terrified
voice.
He turned to her as she edged even closer. He leaned toward her as she looked at him with saucerlike eyes. Slowly, he leaned forward until his forehead was against hers. "It's going to be all right,"
he whispered, again in an uncertain voice.
Parvati was breathing heavily, but no longer hyperventilating.
Suddenly, he felt Ron swaying more precariously and, pulling Parvati with him, leaned to his left
and grasped Ron around the waist. He looked over Ron's shoulder to see Hermione, shaking and
wide-eyed, watching her giant spider devour her chunk of meat. She turned to Harry with a glazed
look of fear. Harry nodded his head at Ron, who now was continuing to shake. Hermione let go of
her tongs, letting them and the meat slide into the corral for her spider to savor at its leisure and
slowly put her arms around Ron.
With this, his shaking seemed to lessen a little and slowly, he opened his eyes to look at Hermione.
"Not spiders," was all he could muster.
Harry looked over their shoulders and saw Draco, his arm outstretched and holding his tongs by his
fingertips. He had his eyes closed and he was breathing in short rapid breaths.
By this time, Harry's spider had wrestled the meat from his tongs and Harry backed away a couple
steps to put one arm around Parvati's waist and the other around Ron's shoulders. Then he turned to
Hagrid, only to realize that the half-giant had been explaining about the spiders for some ten
minutes now. Hagrid's eyes were wide in rapt interest as the spiders continued to gnaw away at the
hunks of meat, which all were now on the ground.
"...so if yer in an area known to be populated by such beautiful but dangerous creatures, tis best yeh
carry a large quantity o' meat, or even some blood, that yeh can scatter on the ground behind yeh.
That'll generally stop 'em in their tracks and give yeh a chance to move away from 'em quick like,"
Hagrid concluded.
"Okay?" Hagrid looked around and realized that there were only four Gryffindors, Harry, Parvati,
Hermione and a quaking Ron, and two Slytherins, Draco, who was now retching from the sight
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rather than the smell, and Glenn Greinglass, who continued to stare glassy-eyed at the spectacle of
the ravenous spiders eating.
Hagrid shook his head. "Well, that's ten points fer Slytherin and twenty for Gryffindor, five each fer
them what stayed." Hagrid sighed and shook his head again. "I guess yeh should all come back to
the hut to get yer wands back."
***
"Hagrid should have warned us," Parvati muttered as she walked slowly from the class beside
Harry.
"What, and have half the class miss it because of a sudden attack of the grippe," he replied,
chuckling in relief that the class was over.
Parvati chuckled, herself. "I don't know. Maybe Ron would have sawed off a limb just to miss that."
Harry smiled and looked up ahead. Hermione was gripping Ron's arm tightly as he walked
unevenly up to the castle, his head down. "Still, he got through it. We've seen worse."
Parvati snorted. "That sounds like a story I'm not sure I want to hear."
Harry smiled and looked back up toward Ron and Hermione again. But instead, his eye caught the
figure of Janet McDonald, his prefect patrol partner, who was strolling with another seventh-year
girl he didn't know. He thought back to her needling him about 'unromantic' Gryffindors the
previous week during their rounds and shook his head slightly. 'What did she know, anyway?' he
thought.
Then he glanced at Parvati, who was looking down, thoughtfully. He casually edged closer to her
until they bumped against each other gently. She looked at him a smiled and then went back to
looking at the ground as they strolled. He looked at her again and cursed himself for a coward, then
took a deep breath. Once again, he casually edged closer to her and very carefully and tentatively
reached around her and placed his arm around her waist.
Parvati looked up with a start, and Harry almost pulled away. Then she smiled. Harry felt the
smooth softness of her waist through her robes and jumper under his hand and could feel his heart
racing. Then she closed the distance between them and snaked her arm under his and around his
waist. Harry felt a quick jolt in his body as she smiled more broadly at him. And so, they resumed
their walk to the castle, holding each other, lost to anyone or anything else in the world.
***
"Harry, can we talk?"
Harry blinked and came out of his reverie. He was wearing his jeans and an old, oversized and
stained rugby shirt that once had belonged to his cousin. He turned, puzzled, toward the voice,
dropping his broom off his shoulder.
"Pansy?"
She gave him a warm smile. "I was just wondering if you had some time...maybe after your
practice...just to talk."
Harry blinked and stared at Pansy Parkinson. She had barely said two civil words to him in all the
years since they had been at Hogwarts. Now she wanted to talk?
"What about?" he muttered.
She turned her smile up a few notches. "Well, this and that. Classes. Quidditch. You."
Harry looked at her blankly. She was not beautiful, like Parvati, or even pretty, like Hermione. She
78
was kind of cute when she smiled. But he had rarely seen her smile. And when she wasn't smiling,
there was a sort of hardness to her look. "Ummm, I have work to do after practice. And I've got
something planned for tonight. Sorry."
Pansy's smile dimmed a little. "Well, I just thought we should get to know one another a little
better. We've never had a chance to talk."
Harry shrugged. "I guess...look, I'm late for practice," he said with a weak, puzzled smile.
Pansy nodded. "Okay. Some other time."
Harry walked quickly down the corridor toward the side entrance to the castle. 'What was that all
about?' he wondered.
***
Quidditch practice was unlike previous years. Now, instead of nine flyers, there were fourteen--the
equivalent of two full teams. Cecil Huddleston, the third-year keeper, was taking something of a
beating when facing the rest of the Gryffindor first team. But as Harry watched, he could see the kid
gaining confidence and experience at every run the chasers made at him. He was no Oliver Wood,
and probably wouldn't be for another year or two, if ever, but he was showing real potential.
Harry casually flew over to the other end of the field. Theo Kastelides, another third year, was
working hard as the second string keeper, but he wasn't quite as quick as Cecil. Harry chuckled.
Theo and the two firstie beaters, Mike Burwasher and Steve Shaunessy, were shocked at the speed
of play at this level. He chuckled. 'No wonder first years are generally not allowed on teams,' he
thought. Harry had spent an hour arguing with both Angelina and Professor McGonagall before
Mike and Steve were even allowed to try out. And, surprisingly, they easily beat out two very
annoyed sixth years for the reserve spots on the team. But they still were pretty raw. 'Let's hope the
twins stay healthy,' Harry thought with a chuckle.
The two fourth-year chasers on the second team, Regina Bowen and Severino 'Don't Call Me Snape'
Velazquez, were a little better prepared, and Ron, having played in backyard brawls with his
brothers, was clearly ready to play at this level, if not as effectively as Angelina, Katie and Alicia.
Then Harry looked up. "See it yet, Ginny?"
Ginny Weasley was the alternate Seeker. He was frankly surprised at how well she played in the
tryouts. She clearly had potential. But she also took chances. Chances that Harry himself would take
without a thought, but which frightened him when Ginny took them.
"Just enjoying the view," she said with a smirk.
Harry laughed. In the past couple weeks, Ginny had seemed to be a lot easier to be around. Maybe
she had gotten over her crush, he thought. Or maybe it's just that she and Colin had been tagging
around together and he had gotten her to relax a little. Maybe they might even be a couple, he
thought with a chuckle.
Suddenly, Ginny darted past him, causing his broom to waver a little, before he turned it around to
tail her, searching desperately for the snitch.
Harry continued to look around in the direction Ginny was headed when she suddenly dove. Still
Harry followed, still frantically searching for the golden orb. His eyes grew wide as she continued
to plummet, folding herself low against the broom. "Pull up," Harry screamed as he followed her
down. At the last possible second, she pulled up hard and shot straight up.
"You stupid little bint!" he screamed, laughing. "Doing a Wronski feint on me! I'll get you!"
Harry and Ginny started chasing each other across the field, feinting and weaving through the
79
crowded sky. Suddenly, Harry felt a crack from a bludger against his back and felt his right
shoulder go numb. Leaning far to his right, he managed to compensate and flew slowly to the
ground.
Angelina and Ron were the first to land beside him, followed closely by Ginny.
"Damn, Harry," Ron exclaimed. "Are you all right?"
Angelina walked up to him and pressed against the back of his shoulder.
"Yeow!" Harry screamed.
Angelina made a face as the rest of the squad descended. Katie Bell ran up. "Harry, can you raise
your arm?"
Harry tried but let out another yelp of pain. Katie then placed her hands on his shoulder and
squeezed here and there. "Dislocated," she muttered.
Suddenly, Parvati, who had been watching along with several other Gryffindors, came running up.
"Harry, are you all right?"
Katie looked at Parvati. "Dislocated shoulder," she said matter-of-factly.
Something passed between the two girls, and Parvati moved around directly in front of Harry.
"Harry, look at me."
Harry grimaced and looked into Parvati's eyes, his own eyes watering from the pain.
"Harry, are you okay? Look at me!"
Harry was looking into Parvati's eyes when he felt his arm being yanked up. He screamed and
grabbed his wounded shoulder. But suddenly, the pain was now bearable.
Then Madam Hooch flew over to check on the situation. "Is he all right?" she asked.
Katie and Parvati turned and shrugged. "Dislocation," Katie said. "I popped it back in."
Hooch sighed. "You should have left it for Madam Pomfrey."
Katie chuckled. "I've done this several times. I knew what I was doing," she said with a small smile.
Parvati nodded. "Me, too, on my brothers. It's not hard if you're strong enough and careful."
Hooch sighed again. "Oh, well. It looks like it's back to the hospital wing with you, Harry. If
nothing else is broken or out of place, I'm sure Poppy will have you out of there within three or four
days--all of which you will doubtless be screaming in agony," she said with a evil look.
Harry blanched, then saw Hooch fighting a smile. He smiled. "No, I think my limit is two days of
screaming agony," he said with a chuckle and then a wince as he tried to move his arm.
"Does that mean practice is over," Fred said with a grin. "I'm hungry."
Angelina glared at him. "Not on your life," she growled. "By the looks of it, our beaters could all
use more practice. A whole lot more practice."
Parvati and Madam Hooch walked Harry up to the castle, with Harry's left arm over Parvati's
shoulder and her right arm around his waist, more for just the comfort than any real need by Harry
for support.
As they entered the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "Agnes! Another? I swear, they
ought to outlaw that game!"
Hooch laughed. "Poppy, if they outlaw Quidditch, we'd both be out of a job for lack of work."
80
"So, what do we have?" Pomfrey asked with resignation.
"Harry's got a dislocated shoulder," Hooch replied.
Pomfrey took a quick look at Harry. "Raise your arm," she commanded.
Harry gingerly raised his arm almost to shoulder level.
"Who popped it back in?"
"Katie," Hooch replied.
Pomfrey palpated Harry shoulder, then ordered him to remove his jersey and pads.
"But it's still sore," Harry complained.
Pomfrey nodded, and turned to her assistant. "Mercy, get the shears. The heavy ones. Looks like
will have to cut his clothing off."
Harry started. "No! I can get it off!" he said in a panic.
Pomfrey nodded and was about to say something when there was a commotion at the entrance to
the wing.
Harry had just finished gingerly pulling his jersey over his head with Parvati's help when they saw
Professors Sprout, Snape and McGonagall, along with the Hufflepuff senior prefects, Janet
McDonald and Andy Stebbins, and another young Hufflepuff, a girl who Harry didn't recognize,
come in. Sprout and Snape had their wands out, using a Mobilicorpus charm to suspend a body
between them.
Parvati and Harry, who winced a little from the pain in his shoulder, stood to see what was going
on. Then he saw the body's head move and saw the pale blond hair. Malfoy.
The group passed Harry's bed and moved a couple more beds down, while Pomfrey and Mercy
bustled over. Harry could barely see what was going on for all the people now gathered around but,
just before Mercy pulled a privacy curtain, Harry noticed blood on Malfoy's upper lip which had
trickled down the right side of his face.
Harry turned to Parvati and shrugged. "Looks like someone finally popped him in the nose."
Parvati gave him a small, sad smile.
It was 15 minutes of people walking back and forth between the dispensary and Malfoy's bed before
Mercy finally stopped by to check on Harry.
"Mr. Potter," she said. "I'm sorry for all the commotion. I'll try to take care of you now. Your
shoulder is going to be sore for at least the next day or so. We will immobilize it and give you antiinflammatory and pain-killing potions. Madam Pomfrey thought it best that you stay the night, so
be can make sure that Miss Bell did not do any harm when she popped your shoulder back into
place."
Harry nodded. "What happened?" he asked, nodding toward Malfoy's curtained-off bed.
Mercy sighed and glanced over in Malfoy's direction. "He was found near the greenhouses, barely
conscious. He claimed he had fallen." Again, Mercy glanced around to see if anyone was listening.
Then she leaned forward. "He didn't fall. He was beaten, and pretty badly," she whispered. "Maybe
he's afraid to talk. Afraid of the one who did that to him."
Then Mercy lowered her head, as if in thought. She glanced up at Harry. "I know you two are rivals
and don't really get along that much. But once things calm down a little, maybe you could give him
a kind word? A little support? He's really suffering and probably scared. Knowing he's got people
on his side might help him." Mercy then nodded and scurried off to the dispensary.
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Harry frowned and turned to Parvati, who was also frowning. Harry sighed. "Does she really think
I'm going to go over there and pat his hand and kiss his bloody nose and make it all better?" he said
with a scowl.
Parvati made a face. "I don't know. I don't think I would. He probably picked a fight with someone
and finally got what for."
Harry nodded.
Parvati leaned back on her chair next to Harry's bed. Then she shrugged. "Still, he doesn't have
many friends. Especially now Crabbe and Goyle are gone and that Pansy dumped him."
Harry started. "Pansy broke up with him? I thought they were a Death Eater match made in
heaven."
Parvati rolled her eyes and shook her head. "She's playing the percentages. I don't think her family
are DEs. She comes from money, but Malfoy was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for her.
But with his mother dead and father on the run, and...Voldemort either dead or down, she probably
figured there was no percentage in being with Draco anymore." She shrugged. "If you can't be a
winner yourself, run with the winners. And Draco isn't looking like much of a winner right now."
Harry gave her a sly glance. "Is that what you're doing?"
Parvati gave Harry a pinch in the side, causing him to flinch and gasp as pain shot through his
shoulder. Parvati's eyes widened and she began to say something, but Harry cut her off with a wave
and a smile.
Parvati looked relieved, then her face took on a mischievous look. "Now listen hear, Potter. I don't
have to run with any winners. I am a winner. Or haven't you been reading Witch Weekly lately," she
said with a smug expression. "So you must be the one running with a winner."
Two chuckled, when Parvati spied Harry's rugby shirt, which he had worn underneath his Quidditch
jersey and pads. "You better watch yourself," she said with a twinkle in her eye, picking up the
rugby shirt between two fingers and making a face. "I don't know if winners like to run with people
dressed in rags."
Harry shook his head with a small smile. 'Won't she ever let up on my clothes?' he thought.
***
It was quiet at last in the hospital wing.
Most of the torches had been extinguished and the candles had come out. Harry had noticed that,
once Parvati had left, he'd had no visitors. Neither had Malfoy.
He had asked Mercy about this and she shrugged. "No visitors today," she said without explanation.
Harry felt restless. The immobilization charm Madam Pomfrey had used on his shoulder made his
whole body feel awkward. He managed to sit up, but felt like some sort of hunchback. He looked
down and saw a pair of hospital slippers and placed his feet in them.
He slowly rose and, seeing no one around, padded over to Malfoy's bed. Malfoy was turned toward
the left on the bed. Harry could see some discoloration on the right side of his face and a lump on
his nose. Harry shrugged. Those would be gone in a day or two. After all these years of Quidditch,
he had seen several broken noses going into the hospital wing and seen those same noses back to
normal when they left.
"What do you want, Potter?" came Malfoy's hollow and slurred voice. "Here to finish the job?"
Harry frowned. "Just here to see how you were doing," he responded quietly. "Heard someone
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popped you in the nose."
Draco grunted. "Figuring it's your turn now?" Draco muttered again, obviously breathing only
through his mouth. "Or disappointed that you weren't the first?"
Harry shook his head. "Just checking to see if you were going to be all right, that's all."
Slowly and painfully, Draco turned to face Harry. Harry gasped. The right side of Malfoy's face was
relatively unhurt. But the left side was swollen like a balloon and a horrible shade of purple. His left
eye completely closed. And a tiny trickle of bloody spittle was trailing down his face.
"Is this what you came for, Potter? To enjoy the show?" Draco said through the right side of his
mouth, the left side swollen and obviously painful to move.
Harry grabbed the bottom bedpost of Draco's bed in shock. "Who? Who did that to you?" he cried
in a strangled voice.
Draco painfully narrowed his good eye. "You did this to me, Potter. You did."
83
CHAPTER SEVEN THE LOO
Harry stared down at Draco. "I didn't have anything to do with what happened to you," he said
quietly but firmly.
Draco brought up a blood-stained handkerchief to his ravaged face and spit into. Then he turned his
good eye toward Harry. "If you and your whore had the decency to die out there, my mother would
still be alive," he muttered in a muffled tone.
A wave of fury passed through Harry, but it was gone quickly.
Draco felt the chill and winced, then winced again as he felt a new twinge of pain in his broken jaw.
"You're all alone now, Malfoy," he whispered harshly. "You've got nothing. And now you're going
to know what 'nothing' feels like. But you've got nothing to fear from me, as long as you leave us
alone."
Draco tilted his head. "And you're going to protect me, I suppose."
Harry shook his head sadly. "I'll just make sure that none of my friends bother you. I just hope you
have enough sense to return the favor."
Malfoy continued to stare through his good eye. "A take no favors from you."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Sleep well, Malfoy. You have nothing to fear from me. That just leaves
everyone else for you to watch out for."
***
It was 7:15 am when Harry awoke to a commotion.
"Miss Patil, you can't come in here," Mercy pleaded.
Parvati simply strode past the nurse.
"No visitors. Madam Pomfrey's orders."
Parvati simply ignored Mercy and approached Harry with a smile. "How are you feeling?"
Harry chuckled and smiled fondly at her. "Right now, I feel like that one-eyed, hump-backed witch
up on the third floor."
Parvati laughed. "You mean the one you use when you want to sneak out?"
Harry smiled, then made a face and motioned with his head.
Parvati turned to have her look met by an annoyed Madam Pomfrey, who was standing there, hands
on her hips. "Miss Patil. If you insist on taking after your rowdy brothers, rather than your sisters, I
must then insist you either stop seeing Mister Potter or find some way to keep him out of my
hospital wing," she scolded, with a hint of a smile.
Parvati tried to look contrite, but the two women had difficulty keeping from smiling.
Finally, Pomfrey threw up her hands, and began removing the immobilizing spell on Harry's
shoulder. "Well, sit. I'll take a quick look at your gentleman friend here, and then, if everything
looks right, you can drag his sorry carcass out of here."
Harry chuckled. "Hey, what happened to bedside manner?" he complained with a smile.
Pomfrey looked down her nose at him as she palpated his shoulder a little rougher than he would
have liked. "You used up your allotment of my bedside manner by your third year, Mister Potter,"
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she said in a scolding manner. She pulled Harry's arm above horizontal. "Does that hurt?"
Harry shrugged. "A little. Not much."
Pomfrey nodded. "And this?" she asked as she yanked his arm higher.
Harry felt another twinge. He shrugged.
Pomfrey probed under his armpit, causing him to giggle a little. "Tell me, Mr. Potter. If I were to
cut your arm off and ask you if it hurt, would you admit it?"
Harry looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "Is that the next part of the examination?" he said with
a smirk.
Pomfrey looked down at him. "Miss Patil. Kindly remove this individual from the hospital wing,"
she said in an arch tone. "He is causing a disturbance."
With that, Pomfrey bustled back to the enclosed bed where Draco was resting.
Harry pulled on his oversized and stained rugby jersey, which had been cleaned overnight. He
sighed and looked over at Parvati with a smile. "Let's go."
***
Harry looked with annoyance at the crowd that had gathered around him in the common room.
"Is it true that they broke his nose?" George asked with a wide-eyed grin.
"Who did it?" Ron asked enthusiastically. "I think I've got a new hero."
"So it's open season on ferrets?" Fred added.
"Stop it!" Harry cried. He looked at the group around him. Hermione was looking shocked, and
Parvati was looking thoughtful. But most of the rest of the group were grinning or wore selfsatisfied expressions.
He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't see him. I did. He wasn't just popped in the nose. Someone gave
him a savage beating. Nobody deserves the kind of beating he took."
Ron scowled. "If anyone does, he does," he growled.
Harry snapped his head in Ron's direction. "Why? Because he makes fun of you? He only does it
because it gets a rise out of you. He knows how thin-skinned you can be. But that doesn't justify
someone trying to beat him nearly to death."
Ron had the good grace to blush.
Harry looked at the group. "I told him that he didn't have anything to fear from me...from us. I don't
think any of us had anything to do with it. At least I hope not. But from now on, I'm asking you to
keep your distance from him."
Harry saw frowns from several of his housemates. "Listen, he's all alone now. No friends. Nobody
to talk to. He's in hell right now. So leave him there. If anything else happens to him, I don't want
any fingers pointing at us."
"You want us to take him up to the Astronomy Tower for a snog, too?" said Dan Turley with a
sneer.
Fred guffawed. "No, Dan. You'd probably end up with the broken nose, not Malfoy."
The crowd chuckled, recalling how Parvati had broken Turley's nose last year.
Harry waited for the chuckling to subside, watching Turley stalk off. "No. No need to be Malfoy's
pal. I won't be holding hands with him any time soon..."
85
"You better not," Parvati exclaimed to everyone's laughter.
Harry smiled, and again looked over the group. "Just leave him be. Okay?"
There were nods around the group.
Harry was about to go up to his dorm to wash up for breakfast when he was stopped by Samantha
Bauman and Pat McGrady, two of his firsties. "Harry, did they catch the guy who did it?" Sam
asked with a concerned look.
Harry shrugged. "Malfoy won't say what happened. I don't know much else."
McGrady frowned. "So this guy is still out there?"
Harry blinked. Suddenly it hit him. His firsties were scared. And probably a lot of others. Malfoy
wasn't that big, but he was fit and fast and good with his wand and was a fifth year. Whoever beat
him had to be strong and fast, or may have ambushed him. The firsties were right to be worried.
He took a deep breath. "Listen, the professors and staff are going to be on alert for the next couple
days. I'm sure they'll catch whoever did this. But if it makes you feel any better, I can help you all
out on some defensive spells. I'm pretty good in DADA and I can give you a few tips." He paused.
"Not tonight. I've got a prefects meeting this afternoon and I'm already at least a couple days behind
on my homework. And tomorrow's a patrol day for me. Maybe Friday afternoon, before
Hogsmeade, or over the weekend. Okay?"
Sam smiled at him and Pat nodded.
"Right," Harry said with a smile. "Time for breakfast."
***
Classes were subdued for most of the day. Rumors circulated throughout the school about Malfoy's
injuries ranging from a Death Eater attack to a failed suicide attempt. But otherwise, the only thing
out of the ordinary for Harry was when Parvati and Lavender suddenly disappeared on the way to
the library for a study period before their Charms class. When Harry asked them what happened
after they reappeared, they just shrugged. "Girl stuff," they responded.
It had been a long and emotional day for Harry, starting off in the hospital wing with visions of
Malfoy's ravaged face and later confronting his housemates over their future treatment of Malfoy.
And it promised to be an even longer evening, with a prefects' meeting followed by enough
homework to keep him busy all evening. All Harry wanted was a hot shower and a change of
clothes. He trudged slowly up to his dorm.
As he sat on his bed, wishing he could simply take a nap now, he reached down and flipped the lid
of his trunk open and stared. Almost all his clothes were gone.
He began digging frantically through the trunk, spilling half of its contents on the floor. His robes
and uniform clothes were there, along with his underwear, a couple sport shirts and some sweaters
bought by the Strowbridges over the summer. But his sweatshirts, flannel shirts, his beloved
running shoes and the T-shirts his Muggle friends had given him for his birthday were all gone.
A sudden noise started him. "Dean? Where are my clothes?"
Dean, who had just walked in from the loo, shrugged. Then a small smile played across his face.
"Ask your lady and her partner in crime. Seamus and I saw them sneaking around when we were
skiving off study period."
Harry lowered his head, his temper rising. Suddenly he got up and stormed down to the common
room. Then he saw Parvati and Lavender leaning against each other with mischievous smiles on
their faces. Suddenly Parvati looked up at him and her smile slowly faded.
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"I am going to a prefects meeting. If the thieves who took my clothes do not return them by the time
I come back, it's over for good," he growled, and stormed out of the common room.
***
The prefects meeting was a subdued affair. Malfoy was, of course, missing. But Professors
McGonagall, Sprout and Snape were present, as was Hogwarts caretaker Argus Filch, who was
carrying a flanged iron mace with a wrist thong and heavy manacles.
Harry leaned over to Millicent Bulstrode on his left. "How is he?"
Millie frowned. "Healing slowly. Pomfrey's feeding him every charm and potion in the dispensary.
Pain, Skele-Grow for his jaw and cheekbone, anti-inflammatories, the whole gamut."
Harry nodded. "Is he talking?"
She shook her head. "Says he slipped."
Harry pursed his lips. "Why? Why won't he talk?"
She shrugged. "He's gotten a little strange in the past couple weeks. All term if you ask me. He
keeps disappearing. I don't know..."
McGonagall gaveled the meeting to order. "As you all know by now, there has been an attack on a
student here at Hogwarts. We do not know of the circumstances surrounding this attack except that
it is very serious and cause for concern to us all. As such, we must redouble our efforts to be
vigilant. To that end, for now, we will be supplementing our patrols. As the attack took place
outside Hufflepuff House, Professor Sprout has volunteered to keep watch in her area of the ground
floor. And Professor Snape has agreed to patrol the dungeons and their environs. And I will be
accompanying the prefect patrol for the first shift tonight. Professor Moody will accompany the
second shift tonight. And further help for patrols are in the offing." McGonagall turned to Professor
Sprout. "Professor?"
The plump witch stepped forward. "Well, right now we've redoubled all the wards and locks on the
castle. I will have prefects staying up in our common room to watch for anything suspicious. We
have created a special alarm charm similar to the one that protects the girls' dorms to guard against
intrusion..."
At that point, there were snorts and muffled giggles from most of the girls in the room.
Harry turned a questioning look to Hermione, who leaned over to him. "I'll tell you later."
McGonagall nodded. "Professor Snape."
Snape stepped forward. "All I can say is that an attack on a Slytherin, or any student, is an attack on
all of us. The person responsible for this outrage will pay, not just here, but in Azkaban," he said,
glancing over at Harry, who frowned back at the Potions master.
Given the nature of the crisis, the rest of the meeting was perfunctory and ended quickly.
On the way back to the common room, he remembered Hermione's remark about the charms
guarding the girls' dorms. "What about the girls' dorms?" he asked her quietly.
Hermione chuckled. "You know there are wards against male intrusion into the girls' dorms, don't
you?"
Harry shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "McGonagall told us all that no boys were allowed up there or all
sorts of terrible things would happen."
Hermione snorted. "That's right. It's a basic expulsion ward. If you're a boy and try to enter the girls'
dorms, it blocks you."
87
"So?" he asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Every girl above the age of puberty knows the counter-charm. I'll bet
several of the first years know it already."
Harry stopped, in shock. "They're having sex already?"
Hermione sighed. "Of course not," she said in exasperation. "But they hear things. And I saw Willie
Peters up in our dorm one day. Probably up to something with Maura. She probably learned it from
her sister Moira."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "And you, Miss Prefect?"
Hermione blushed furiously. "No, I don't have boys coming up to my bedroom every two minutes,
if that's what you think. But you can't share a bedroom with Parvati and Lavender without hearing
some interesting information. Interesting and useful," she said with a small smile.
Harry simply continued to walk next to Hermione, deep in thought.
Hermione chuckled. "I hear that Fred and George figured out their own countercharm. So they don't
need one of us to let them in. It's interesting who you'll meet in the hallways of the girls' dorm late
at night."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe they should have a similar charm for the boys' dorms," he said
thoughtfully.
He suddenly thought of Parvati and sighed. He had been stupid. He knew he had overreacted to her
prank. Still, he loved his silly T-shirts from his birthday party. Stupid, he knew. A Guinness shirt
similar to the one Seamus always wore. An Arsenal football fan shirt that made Dean crazy. A joke
T-shirt with the slogan 'Welcome to Beautiful Downtown Little Whinging' with a picture of a cow
pasture with several cows grazing. That had been from his best Muggle friend Peter Boyd and was
his favorite. Sure, they were silly, but they were gifts, and he treasured them.
He sighed as he entered the common room and made his way up to his dorm. And there they were,
on his bed. All his old clothes carefully cleaned and folded. Even his stupid rugby shirt, which he
would have liked if it was new and fit, was freshly scrubbed and the stains almost completely gone.
He sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. 'Parvati was right,' he thought sadly.
He looked at the clothes piled so neatly. What were they? They were the remnants, the discards of a
life that was over. Why had he kept them? Because he never had anything and so he held on to what
little he had?
But why? He had money. Maybe more than he knew what to do with. He didn't need this. He
looked at the faded and worn-out shirts and frayed slacks, the darned socks and the dilapidated
penny loafers, the stretched out sweatshirts and the flannel shirts that were nearly worn through at
the elbows. They were like shackles that a newly freed slave could not seem to discard for fear of
offending the former master.
Parvati was right. Yes, she was wrong in invading his trunk. But she was right about his clothes. He
had to let go. He had to start his life fresh and anew. He reached down to his wastepaper basket and
pulled out the magical paper liner, waving his wand to remove the disposal charm. And slowly,
piece by piece, he placed all of Dudley's and Vernon's old castoffs in the bag.
And suddenly, he smiled. He was wrong to overreact to Parvati's little stunt. But that didn't mean he
couldn't have a little fun with her.
He slowly made his way down the steps to the common room. And there they were. Parvati and
Lavender, looking up at him, anxious and contrite. He sauntered over to the couple and casually
88
dropped the bag of discarded clothes between them. "I suppose someone might be able to make
some use of these," he said haughtily. "Which means that I will be needing to do some shopping
Friday in Hogsmeade. I suppose I could use some help with that. Hmmm. But who could help me?"
he said.
Lavender began to smile, but Parvati was still staring anxiously at Harry.
Harry glanced down. "How about you, Lavender? You have a good fashion sense."
Lavender giggled. "Oh, I don't know. I may be booked for the weekend."
Harry gave a curt nod. "Well, now. Maybe Hermione...or maybe Ginny," he said absently and
began to step away.
Suddenly Parvati swiveled on the couch and grabbed him around the waist. "Oh, please, Harry. I'm
sorry," she cried.
Harry looked down at Parvati with a grin, but his look softened when he realized how upset she had
been. He angled around the couch and sat down next to her as Lavender got up and left the two
alone.
Harry pulled Parvati to arm's length and looked at her. She slowly brought her eyes up to meet his.
"I really am sorry, Harry."
Harry gave her a fond smile and pulled her into an embrace and let her cry a little on his shoulder.
"No, Parvati," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you," he said, now rocking her in
his arms. "You were right and I was too stupid to listen." He sighed. "Just...well, maybe we should
talk about things first."
Parvati sniffled in his arms. "I'm really sorry, Harry. I saw how mad you were...I thought..." and she
looked up at him with glistening eyes. "Well, I realized maybe you...well, we all sort of figured you
had some money and...I didn't think that maybe you couldn't afford new clothes."
Harry blinked, surprised.
"That's all right, Harry. I know where we can go in Hogsmeade to get good clothes cheap. And I
owe you for your birthday presents. I get 25 Galleons a month allowance and I never can spend that
much and..."
Harry put his hand over her mouth. "I've got money," he said quietly. "Probably more than I can
spend."
Parvati blinked. "You're sure?"
Harry nodded. "I have piles of gold in my vault at Gringotts," he said with an uncertain smile.
Parvati gave him a sympathetic look. "You're really sure?"
Harry chuckled. "I'm sure. It's piled practically up to my waist."
Parvati blinked. "You don't know how much?"
Harry shrugged.
"Don't you get an accounting every six months?"
Harry shrugged again, puzzled.
Parvati sighed and leaned back into his arms. "As long as you can afford it, why did you always
wear those raggedy clothes?"
Harry held her, stroking her hair. "I don't know. I guess I don't know how to buy stuff. I never went
shopping until this summer, when Mae took me out a couple times," he said with a sigh. "I hated
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when they make you go behind this thin curtain to take off your pants and try stuff on."
Parvati started giggling. "Afraid someone like me would peek at you?"
Harry chuckled. "No. I'm afraid Colin Creevey will be lurking nearby with his camera."
Parvati looked up at him. "Oh, I'd be first in line to buy those pictures," she said, giggling.
Harry poked her in the ribs, causing her to squirm and giggle some more.
Parvati turned to Harry with an uncertain smile. "You really want me to help you shop?"
Harry gave her a small shrug and sighed. "I hate shopping. I guess...well, I don't know what to do.
And I guess...well, yes, I'd really like you to help. I think I need you to help me."
Parvati's smile broadened and leaned against him.
Harry sighed again. He loved her to touch him, to lean against him like this. He just loved the idea
that someone would like him enough to do something like that, to lean on him without a thought,
without reserve. He simply relaxed at the feel of her against him.
After a few quite minutes, Parvati leaned away from Harry to look at him directly. "Harry, could
you do me a favor?" she said softly.
Harry looked at her with concern. "Sure."
"Don't tease Lavender about going to Hogsmeade."
Harry blinked. "I didn't do anything...did I?"
Parvati sighed. "No...it's just that I almost thought you were asking her out when you were mad at
me before. About shopping and all."
A puzzled frown passed over Harry's face. "What? I don't understand."
Parvati sighed and leaned against Harry. "Oh. It's just that she's getting upset that no one has asked
her to Hogsmeade. Well, except for Dennis Creevey," she said, chuckling at the thought.
Harry put his arm back around Parvati's shoulder and pondered. "Why not? She's pretty. And she is
getting better with her makeup. I gave her some Muggle magazines a few weeks ago that I thought
she might like. Maybe they helped."
Parvati sighed. "I don't know. Most of the best guys have already paired off with other girls and
Lavender can be...well, you know how Lavender can get. She can be a little abrupt with boys."
Harry chuckled. "Not like you," he said with a smirk, earning him a pinch.
"No, seriously. She's a little put out that no one's asked her out. It was different before you and I
were a couple. We could plot and plan together. But now...well, she's feeling down and now it's like
she's a third wheel."
Harry snorted with a smile. "No luck playing matchmaker?"
Parvati shrugged. "Well, There's Ron."
Harry frowned. "I don't think so. At least not now," he whispered.
"Hermione?"
Harry nodded.
Parvati pondered. "Not Neville. And Seamus and Dean are clueless. And the sixth and seventh
years are all spoken for."
Harry chuckled. "Except Dan Turley."
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Parvati snorted in disgust.
Harry gave Parvati's shoulder a squeeze and she leaned closer into him.
Suddenly, Seamus, who had just walked into the common room called out, "Hey, get a room you
two."
Harry's head jerked up. "Hey, get a life, Finnegan."
Seamus paused and looked at the couple, and shrugged.
Parvati, still in Harry's arms, suddenly started giggling again.
"What?" Harry asked.
Parvati continued to giggle uncontrollably. "It's about time someone said that to him," she said,
catching her breath.
***
Colin sat down at the Gryffindor table for supper. He pulled out a catalogue from The Wizarding
Image, a photography supply house in the wizarding colony outside of Dublin. He had just received
his payment from Witch Weekly, 115 Galleons after Ministry fees and taxes were withheld. He had
never had so much money in his life. He now had decent money to enjoy Hogsmeade, but he
intended to spend a portion of it on his hobby, which he realized now could actually turn into a
profession.
He shook his head. Too bad Ginny didn't know anything about photography. He enjoyed talking
with her. And he looked forward to talking with her about his new-found fortune. He smiled to
himself. Tomorrow night was the beginning of a Hogsmeade weekend. Maybe she'd...
"Hi, Colin."
Colin blinked and looked up. "Uh, hi, Luna."
Suddenly, Colin's dreamy-eyed blonde classmate from Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood, slid in beside
him at the Gryffindor table.
"I saw your pictures in Witch Weekly. They were beautiful. You really have an artist's eye," she said
with a soft smile.
Colin blinked. "You liked them?"
She nodded vigorously, shaking the wand she had stuck in her hair behind her ear. "The cover was
typical Witch Weekly fare, but really well done. But the shot of Harry brooding in the armchair was
brilliant. And where did you get the shot of unicorn? My daddy publishes The Quibbler and he is
always looking for good unicorn shots."
Colin blinked again and blushed in pleasure. "You really liked them? I liked the shot of Parvati
being thoughtful," he said, his enthusiasm growing.
Luna shrugged. "She photographs well. That was an easy shot. But the one of Harry was really
good. Is that your camera?"
Colin nodded enthusiastically, holding it out to her.
Luna took it and gave it a careful examination.
At this point, Ginny walked over and saw that her seat had been taken by Luna. She frowned.
"Luna. This isn't your house table. Or hadn't you noticed?"
Luna looked up at Ginny and gave her a dreamy smile. "Hi, Ginny. Colin and I were talking about
photography." She then turned to Colin. "Did you know there were leaf fairies in the Forbidden
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Forest?"
Colin shook his head.
"You want to see?" she said with wide-eyed excitement. "Maybe we can get a couple shots of them.
They're very rare, you know."
Colin stared at her. "Now?"
Suddenly, food appeared on the students' plates.
Luna nodded vigorously. "There's not much time. There's only about 45 minutes of light left. Here,
grab something to eat and we can go down now."
Colin looked at her in confusion. Then he smiled. "Cool!" he said and grabbed a napkin and stuff
the makings of some sandwiches into it.
Luna grabbed a couple goblets of pumpkin juice awkwardly in one hand and grabbed Colin's free
hand in her other and pulled him toward the entrance, with Colin wearing a silly grin.
Ginny stared at the retreating couple in confusion and annoyance. She sat down and noticed Colin's
forgotten catalogue on the bench. She reached over and grabbed it, crumpling it in her fist.
***
Harry Potter exited the Hogsmeade branch of Gladrags with two packages under one arm and three
large bags grasped in his other hand. He was not looking terribly happy. But Parvati Patil was
beaming.
Harry had not been lying before. He had only been shopping for himself twice in his life, both times
with Mae Strowbridge. She had guided him gently through the process, helping him select a few
things here and there, then buying them for him over his protests.
Shopping with Parvati was another thing entirely. She had almost literally dragged him from one
shop to another, giving him chapter and verse on what he needed, what to look for, how to talk to
the sales clerks, and what did and did not look good on him.
Harry grumbled throughout the process, but he did admit that the new dress and running shoes she
made him buy felt wonderful. And he was amazed that they seemed to conform exactly to what felt
comfortable.
"Well, of course, silly," she said in amazement. "They are designed to fit a range of sizes and, once
you buy them, they are charmed to adjust to your exact size. Muggles!" she exclaimed in
exasperation.
So now he was carrying packages with two pair of dress slacks, two pair of jeans, two dress shirts, a
pair of dress shoes and his old running shoes, as he decided to wear the new running shoes he just
bought, and enough socks to last him a lifetime. And he had a large bag containing a dress robe that
Parvati picked out and insisted that he buy. "I'm not going to the Yule Ball with someone dressed in
last year's ill-fitting raggedy robe," she announced.
Harry was shaking his head. He had just spent nearly 200 Galleons. He was thankful that Parvati
had shown him how to owl for money from his Gringotts account. As he pondered the idea of
spending 65 Galleons on a dress robe and 20 Galleons on a single pair of shoes, he didn't notice the
woman in the shadows watching them as they continued on their shopping odyssey.
The woman in the shadows scribbled in her notebook and was torn between following the couple
and talking to the Gladrags sales clerk. She had already followed the couple to On Winged Feet, the
high-end shoe store in Hogsmeade, as well an The Elegant Wizard men's store, and
Malkins/Scotland--Robes for All Occasions.
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'Harry Potter, the beleaguered young champion and victor over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,
followed meekly behind the predatory young minx, Parvati Patil, from store to store, caught up in
her spendthrift ways,' the Quick Quotes Quill wrote. 'The amount of money she was forcing him to
spend on her was staggering...'
Suddenly, the Quick Quotes Quill was snatched from mid-air. There was a snap and the Q-Quill
fluttered broken to the ground.
Rita Skeeter gasped and turned in fear, anticipating facing Cyrus Jordan or maybe that goodlooking Patil brother. In either case, she knew she was in for it.
But it wasn't an Auror Skeeter faced. It was worse. It was Sadie Reider, the senior investigative
reporter from Witch Weekly.
Rita took a deep breath and managed a look of annoyance. "That Q-Quill cost me five Galleons,"
she said with a frown.
"Shut up, Rita. Bernard would have spiked that story anyway," Sadie said with a menacing look on
her face. "If he didn't, I would have. You're not writing for that rag, the Prophet, anymore"
Rita looked at Sadie. Sadie wasn't her boss at her new job at Witch Weekly. But as senior on the
investigative beat, Sadie would have an effective say on whatever Rita turned in. And Rita hated
that.
But what Rita hated even more was that Sadie was the best reporter she knew. They had been rivals
for twenty years when Rita worked on the Prophet. And now, for all intents and purposes, Rita now
worked for Sadie.
Sadie, a tall, intense woman in her fifties with long, tangled dark hair beginning to show some gray,
shook her head. "You had potential, Rita. And you turned into a someone who writes robe-ripper
romances and passes it off as news copy. You can't even write on your own copy anymore. You
need a Q-Quill. What happened to you?"
Rita raised her head haughtily. "I've had more above-the-fold stories that you could ever dream of,
Sadie," she said with a false arrogance. "Everyone knows my name."
Sadie shook her head sadly. "Everyone also knows the name Voldemort. And Martin Miggs, the
Mad Muggle. Is that what you aspire to? To be notorious? Or to be a cartoon posing as a
journalist?"
Rita felt the flush was evident, even through her heavily rouged cheeks. "I am a journalist."
Sadie nodded. "Okay, if you insist. But your secret is safe with me."
Rita flexed her blood-red two-inch nails but held her temper. She knew she could strike back with
nasty comments, but Sadie knew how to scratch where it really hurt. "What are you doing here,
anyway?" she snapped. "I'm following up on Potter and Patil. They're my story."
Sadie snorted. "Your story? That puff piece you did on them for the cover last month? Like I said,
little more than a robe-ripper romance posing as journalism. No legitimate reporter would have
done that story...at least the way you did."
Rita glared at Sadie. "It was worth 350 Galleons and got me this job."
Sadie shook her head sadly. "Because no one else would hire you," she said softly. "I think you and
I need to have a talk."
***
Rita was finishing her third ale to chase her third Firewhiskey as she looked across at Sadie. Sadie
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was leaning across the table at the Hogs Head with sympathetic eyes. Rita had just finished a tearful
recounting of her three months in a mason jar as an insect animagus, thanks to Hermione Granger.
Sadie shook her head as if in sympathy. She signaled Jake the bartender for another round. She
knew Jake well, as she knew all her sources well. And Jake knew her. So he arrived promptly with
two more shot glasses and two more pints.
But only Jake and Sadie knew that Sadie's shot glass held only tea, not Firewhiskey. The ale was
real, but Sadie knew she could handle the alcohol. She reached across the table and grasped Rita's
talon-like hand.
"Rita, you are going to have to work at it. I know you have the talent. But you've gotten lazy. You
play at being a reporter. But there are real stories out there that need to be told. Not the gossip. Not
rehashes of Ministry axe-grinding. The real thing. You've got the ability. Now use it."
Skeeter looked up bleary-eyed through her rhinestone studded, goggle-like glasses. "Harry and
Potty...Parvati are what sell. They're my beat," she said in a slurring voice.
Sadie nodded. "So why not do a real investigative piece on them. Not following them around to
report the details of their romantic rendezvous. Something real."
Rita, swaying slightly, shrugged. "Come on, we're a witches' magazine. That's what our readers
want.
Sadie's eyes flared. "Our readers like the romance stuff. But they are desperate for the real news that
affects their lives. Things that can help them, or enlighten them. You don't give them any credit.
They'll take the dessert. But they're starving for a real meal. It's your job to serve it up."
Rita frowned woozily. "Like what?"
Sadie leaned farther across the table. "Like why the Ministry worked so hard to discredit Harry?
Like what's her background? What about the Potters? They had money. What happened to it all?
Why did Pettigrew turn on them? Why is Voldemort after Harry and Parvati? There are lots of
unanswered questions. Important questions."
Rita swayed again. "But...we're a weekly. I can't do a story like that in a week."
Sadie shook her head. "There are other things to report on in the meantime. And if you find
something worth pursuing, I can run interference for you with Bernie."
Rita's blood-shot eyes widened. "Why?"
Sadie took a deep breath. "Because we're journalists. That's what we do. The story's the thing. Not
how much it might bring in from advertisers. Not what it can get us in notoriety. It's exposing the
slime we find when we turn over the rocks in our world. It's turning on the light to see who scurries
into hiding. And by finding heroes. Not the blow-hards in the Ministry, but the ones who work in
anonymity for us. That's our job."
Rita nodded and sipped her ale, having finished her fourth Firewhiskey. "You never answered
me...what were you doing here in Hogsmeade?"
Sadie smiled softly. "To find out why Calvin Curtis of Gladrags would bankroll Malfoy's son here
at Hogwarts."
Rita shrugged. "That's easy. Fellow Death Eaters watching out for one another. And Curtis
garnering some good publicity for the company at the same time."
Sadie sighed. "That's your story?"
Rita shrugged. "Easy as one-two-three. I could write it with my eyes closed," she said, closing her
94
eyes.
Sadie shook her head sadly. "No, Rita. Calvin Curtis hates Lucius Malfoy. He did it to embarrass
and humiliate Lucius. To show that Malfoy was such a bad father that his son had to accept charity
from strangers. And maybe to cancel any debts Calvin owed Lucius. That's why he did it."
Rita had time to blink twice at Sadie in confusion before she passed out.
***
Sirius lowered his head. "You're sure you wouldn't rather be with your girl?"
Harry shifted on the chair in Sirius's tiny flat and cocked his head, puzzled. "You're my Godfather. I
see Parvati all the time. But I can only see you once every two weeks."
Sirius again looked around at his shabby room. "Still..."
Harry leaned back in exasperation. "Look, Parvati's out having a ball, shopping with Lavender.
Lavender has been all down in the dumps and needed some cheering up. So I'll meet up with them
tonight. I want to be here, okay?"
Sirius gave Harry one of his wolfish grins. "So you don't mind spending some time with an old
man, eh?"
Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. It was a rare thing for laughter to be heard in Room 2B above
Gladrags.
Harry managed to chatter on about school and Parvati and Sirius leaned back on his bed and
recalled countless adventures as a Marauder.
But Sirius' mood slowly and subtly became more subdued.
Finally, during a lull in the conversation, Sirius spoke up. "Have you thought about what you want
to do about Christmas?"
Harry looked up in surprise. "Well, I thought I'd spend it here with you. I really want to go visit my
foster parents, Tony and Mae, for a couple days. I really miss them. And Parvati wants me to go to
place to visit her parents. But I'd really like to spent some time together with you. It'll be fun," he
said with a grin.
Sirius lowered his head. "I don't think that would be for the best, Harry," he said quietly.
Harry stared at his godfather in confusion. "But...you don't want me around?"
Sirius looked up at Harry. "Of course I want you around. But you can't stay here. And I can't take
you back to my old home...it's being used for other things...and I can't go back there," he said with a
catch in his voice. "So you'd end up spending almost all your time at Hogwarts."
"I've done that before," he said softly. "It's no big deal."
Sirius sighed. "Look, Dumbledore told me you have a family now. The Strowbridges. He isn't too
keen on the idea because they're Muggles and not blood relatives. But he accepts that you care
about them and that they're good to you. So spend the couple days before the break coming over
here and then spend your break with them. I'll be spending the holidays with Remus and his family.
And I wouldn't wish his Aunt Mathilda on you, or anyone," he said with a chuckle. "And there will
be a full moon a few days after Christmas. It wouldn't help me to have you around to worry about
while at the same time putting up with Moony's shenanigans at that time."
Harry looked at Sirius with mixed emotions. He desperately wanted to be with his Godfather, to
help him celebrate his first free Christmas in 15 years. But he also sorely missed Tony and Mae.
They had written him, urging him to come to the vicarage for Christmas, to help with and enjoy the
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madhouse it would become around that time of year.
Harry slowly lowered his head again. "I don't know..."
Sirius snorted. "Oh, I get it. You just want to go snogging with Aunt Mathilda. She's three tons of
fun. And for a young sprout like you, she might even shave her moustache."
Harry began giggling.
Sirius got up and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go visit your foster parents, Harry. I'll be fine."
***
Harry was sitting at one of the long tables, trying desperately to concentrate on his essay on Elgrin
the Eldritch's efforts to bring about peace talks in the Goblin War of 1612 for his History of Magic
class for Professor Binns. But frankly, his curiosity was piqued by the whispered discussion going
on at the end of the table. Fred and George Weasley were whispering back and forth to Hermione.
Whispering by the Weasley twins was never a good sign. It usually preceded a plague of locusts or
an even more annoying prank. But the fact they somehow had gotten Hermione involved was even
more ominous.
"Are you sure the time delay charm works?" George, or was it Fred, asked.
Hermione was in the process of nodding confidently.
Suddenly, an ear-splitting scream pierced the quiet of the common room.
Harry was on his feet in an instant. The scream, followed by a serious of agonized, but muffled
moans, had come from the boys' dorm area. Harry bounded up the stairs, followed closely by Ron
and the twins and several of the girls.
It couldn't be an attack by Voldemort, thought Harry. Hogwarts is too heavy warded against
intrusion. He heard the moaning continue. It was coming from the boys' bathroom.
"Come on," Harry heard Dean's voice plead. "It's going to be all right."
Harry turned the corner and, wand out for battle, raced into the loo.
Seamus was under the row of sinks curled into the fetal with his hands covering his face. Dean was
trying to get him to come out of the shadows cast by the sink.
"I'm sorry Seamus. I can try to fix it," Dean continued to plead.
Harry grabbed Dean. "What is it? What happened? Was there an attack?" Harry demanded.
Dean's face was full of anxiety and he was close to tears. "I'm sorry. I really am. We can fix it. I'm
sure we can."
"What, Dean? What?" Harry demanded.
The bathroom was filling, now, with Ron, George and Fred, along with Colin and Dennis Creevey,
wands out and looking anxiously around for any signs of intruders, surrounding the huddled figure
of Seamus. Hermione, Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil and Moira Duffy, and even Lavender Brown,
who had just stepped out of the shower and was in her pajamas and dressing gown with a towel
wrapped around her head, were gathered at the door, ready to help their friend. Several of the girls
were also glancing around curiously, having never seen the boys' bathroom before.
"What happened?" Harry demanded again, grabbing the shaken Dean.
"It was...it was...the acne potion," Dean said weakly.
"The what...?" came a chorus of onlookers.
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Dean stammered and couldn't continue.
Harry reached down and gently pulled Seamus to his feet.
"Go away!" he said through his hands, which were still covering his face. "Go away. I don't want
anyone to see me like this."
Harry gently turned Seamus to face away from the onlookers and pried Seamus's hands, finger, by
finger, away from his face.
The sandy-haired Irish boy now had the same thick sandy hair all over his face, including his
forehead, his nose and his eye lids.
There was a collective strangling sound as everyone, including the girls, attempted to stifle their
laughter at the friend's misfortune which, unfortunately for Seamus, could be plainly seen in the
mirror that the boy now faced.
Seamus screamed again, covering his face. "I'm going to kill you, Dean, I'm going to kill you,"
came the muffled growl. Dean backed away.
Hermione was the first of the onlookers to recover. She strode into the middle of the boys'
bathroom, followed quietly by the other girls. "What potion did you use, Dean?" she demanded.
"It said it would work," he whined. "It came straight from Humbasil's Home Potions for the Hip
Wizard. It was guaranteed to cover the uncoverable and hide the unhideable," he muttered.
"What was name of the potion," Hermione again demanded.
Dean whispered something to Hermione.
"What!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's not an acne potion! That's a baldness remedy!"
At this point, several of the onlookers could contain themselves no longer, bursting out laughing.
"Hey Seamus, I told you to stop doing what you've been doing or this would happen," Fred said
with a malicious grin.
"I thought that was just happened on your palms," George added with his own evil grin. "But with
Seamus, you never know."
Seamus gave a strangled cry and dove underneath the sinks again.
Hermione turned to give the twins a dirty look. "Oh, for Circe's sake. There's a easy enough
remedy. Stand him up," she commanded.
Harry and Ron grabbed Seamus and stood him up to face Hermione.
Hermione looked thoughtful. She suddenly thought of the charm girls used to shave their legs. 'It
can be adapted for this,' she thought. She then took out her wand, waved it in a broad sweep over
Seamus and intoned Calvidium Totallus.
Ginny shouted "NO!" But it was too late.
Seamus turned to look in the mirror. But the movement manage to dislodge large chunks of hair,
not just from his face, but from his head and eyebrows as well. Seamus swept his hands across his
face, which was now smooth underneath. Then, with growing horror, attempted to run his fingers
through his hair. His effort yielded a smooth, totally hairless head. He collapsed against the sink,
moaning and cursing.
Hermione, a stunned look on her face, squeaked an apology and ran out of the bathroom in tears.
Suddenly, Seamus began to twitch. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," he said through his tears. "First this,
now I itch all over. What the hell did you people do to me!" he yelled.
97
He began to scratch his chest, then, without thinking, started to scratch farther down.
"Seamus!" cried Moira, to the amusement of everyone.
Ron was puzzled, as well, until he looked down. Lightly coating Seamus's navy blue slippers were
curly sandy-colored hairs which were falling out of Seamus's pant legs.
"Ah...Seamus," Ron said with a chuckle. "Looks like you're going to have to go through puberty
again."
Fred and George collapsed on the floor in hysterics. Harry couldn't help but laugh.
Everyone else was looking at Seamus, chuckling. All except Moira, who was staring at the urinals.
"Do they actually have to sit in those things," she whispered to Lavender.
"Oh, shut up Moira, and make yourself useful. Go get my makeup kit," Lavender commanded.
"You mean the one in the girl's bathroom?" the little fourth year asked, a bit cowed.
"No," Lavender said. "The big one under my bed. You know, the one we used when we took care of
... your little problem."
Moira blushed furiously and ran off.
"What are you going to do," said Parvati.
"Fix up Seamus," Lavender said firmly. "These boys have no conception of personal appearance."
"Okay, you Trolls, get out of the way. Let someone who knows what she's doing take over,"
Lavender said as she pushed aside Harry, Ron, George and Fred. The Creevey brothers had already
fled in the face of her determination.
Unaware of what was going on, Neville Longbottom had just arrived in the common room from the
library. He raced up the stairs and walked into the boy's bathroom. He stopped dead in his tracks.
"There are girls in the boy's bathroom," he squeaked.
"All right, who told Neville about the orgy. It was supposed to be a secret," Fred said.
"Shut up, Fred," Parvati said.
"I'm George," Fred said.
"But I have to go to the bathroom," Neville whined.
"Oh, go ahead," Parvati said. "We won't look."
"I would," said a small voice from the door.
Everyone slowly turned with a startled look at Moira, who was carrying a small suitcase full of
Lavender's cosmetics and personal care products. Moira suddenly turned beet red. "I didn't say that
out loud, did I?" She gave an embarrassed squeak, dropped the suitcase and fled. Neville, who had
turned a shade nearly as red, fled as well, but up the stairs to the dorm.
Everyone slowly turned to look at each other and burst into laughter, including Seamus.
Lavender then turned to Seamus. "Parvati, Ginny, get these knuckle-draggers out of here. We've got
work to do." The girls pushed the laughing and complaining boys out of the bathroom.
For the next 15 minutes, the girls worked to clean all the stray hairs from a squirming Seamus's
head an face and concocted a familiar potion to use on his acne.
"What's wrong with you, Seamus," Lavender said. "Going to Dean over a couple pimples. You
could have come to us girls. We know about these things."
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"I...I was embarrassed," Seamus said petulantly. He paused. "You wouldn't come to any of the boys
with and embarrassing problem, would you?"
"Sure I would," Lavender said as she continued to work on him. "Ron or Harry would be the first
ones I would go to if someone I was embarrassed to be seen with was following me around. 'Could
you big strong boys hex Dennis Creevey into next week for me'," she said in a sing-song voice
The girls laughed knowingly at that remark.
When Seamus's face was completely cleared up, Lavender asked Ginny to perform a hair-restoring
spell as Lavender stood back to observe.
Ginny waved her wand and Seamus's hair and beard slowly began to grow back.
"A little more," Lavender muttered, "A little more...Okay."
"Hey," Seamus protested. "I wear my hair longer than that."
"Oh, shut up, Seamus. What do you know about what looks good on you. You've been wearing that
same tee-shirt for the last two years," Lavender said.
At that moment, Neville reappeared, took one look, and immediately walked out. Seamus and the
girls giggled and shrugged.
One of the unfortunate effects of the hair restoration charm was that every hair on Seamus's head
and chin now were all the same length. His head looked like it had a sandy-blond mop on it.
Lavender took out her wand and gently removed his scraggly beard. She then stepped back to assess
his hair.
She turned to Parvati and Ginny. "I'm not going to be able to do the job I want with a wand. I'm
going to have to do this with a comb and scissors. So it's going to take a while. So if you have
something else to do, you don't have to stay."
Ginny shrugged. "I do have a potions quiz tomorrow, and I don't think Snape will accept bathroom
humor as an excuse."
"And I have to take my shower," Parvati said. "Seamus. I just love what you've done to this place,"
she said, giving the bathroom a broad look. "It has been a delight. Please invite us back again."
The two girls left.
Lavender looked around the loo and noticed two battered and graffiti-covered high-chairs in the
corner, labeled 'Fred's Throne' and 'George's Throne.' She shook her head.
"Accio stool," Lavender said, waving her wand, and George's high-chair flew over to them.
"Now sit," she commanded, and pushed Seamus down into the chair.
Lavender now began to work, roughly pushing Seamus's head back, forth, left and right to get the
best angle for her work. The towel wrapping her wet hair in place came loose several times and she
finally just unwrapped it and tossed it aside. She flung her long thick blonde hair over her shoulder,
but when it wouldn't stay put, she grabbed a ribbon out of her makeup kit and tied it back.
Seamus watched all this in the mirror. Most of the boys thought Lavender was attractive, but always
joked about how much makeup she wore and how boy crazy she acted. But seeing her fresh out of
the shower made Seamus realize she really was a very pretty girl. And now, despite all the
embarrassment he felt over what he had gone through in front of Lavender, Seamus began to enjoy
the experience.
Then Lavender walked over to his left side and pushed his head down to snip away at the hair above
his ear. He noticed that her dressing gown was open. Although her pajamas were buttoned chastely
99
to the top, he noticed her movements created little gaps between the buttons were he would catch a
glimpse of the flesh between her breasts. He began to feel the heat rise in his face, and looked away.
He suddenly realized that this very pretty girl was giving him her undivided attention, brushing and
stroking his hair, albeit innocently, between snips. It was the most sensuous feeling he had ever had
in his life and it made him light-headed. He had lived in this same house with her for four and a half
years and, except for a casual date with her at the Yule Ball last year which he never followed up
on, and a few leering looks when she wore something a little too tight, he had never paid her much
attention. But she had his full attention now. He could not let the moment pass.
As she worked on the back of his hair, he looked at the reflection of her face above his in the
mirror. "You know, you look very pretty tonight," he whispered.
She paused and looked up at her reflection just above his in the mirror. "Oh, don't be silly. I'm a
wreck. I just got out of the shower, my hair's down and tangled, I've got no makeup on. A total
wreck."
She went back to snipping his hair. Now he was really feeling light-heading over all the anxiety and
emotion of early in the evening, topped by the sensuous feeling of have this young woman's hands
handling his head and the stress of overcoming his shyness to compliment her. But he had to say
something more.
"No really. You look nice with your hair down," he said throatily. "You look so fresh and pink and
clean. And I never noticed that you have a few cute freckles across the bridge of your nose."
Lavender stopped cutting to look again at her reflection above his in the mirror. Without noticing,
she leaned forward to get a closer look.
Seamus felt her lean forward, feeling her breasts press over the top of his shoulders, his neck
nestled into her cleavage as she rested her chin on her hands on top of his head. This was beyond
sensual. He was no longer light-headed, he was ...
Lavender smiled, thinking Seamus really was a nice-looking boy who really did think she was
pretty in her own right, without makeup. She glanced down with a smile from her reflection to his,
only to see his eyes roll up inside his head as he slowly slipped off the chair.
"SEAMUS!" she cried, as she broke his fall, letting him lie flat on the floor. She took a wet towel
and, straddling him, leaned over to pat his face to try to bring him to.
At that moment, Neville walked in. "Oh my God," he screamed and fled down to the common
room.
Parvati, who had just come down to the common room after her shower, heard the commotion and
saw Neville walking gingerly down the steps.
"What's the matter, Neville? Is something wrong?" she asked.
"You're damn right, there's something wrong! I still have to go to the bathroom, but I can't. Seamus
and Lavender are having sex up there," Neville screamed, shifting uncomfortably from one leg to
the other.
Parvati launched herself up the stairs on the boys' side.
Slowly Moira came up from under the table where she dove when she saw Neville coming. "I'm
sorry for before, Neville," she said, blushing and looking contrite. "Maybe I can help."
Now it was Neville's face that turned pink. "How can you help?" he asked, feeling uncomfortable in
more ways then one.
"I can take you to the girls' bathroom and check if it's clear...and I can stand guard while you use it,"
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she said shyly.
Neville was prepared to be shocked by the suggestion, but nature had other ideas. "Would you?" he
gasped, squirming uncomfortably.
Moira smiled shyly again. "Sure, Neville. And I won't peek. I promise," she said, her face flushing
an even deeper hue.
In the meantime, Parvati stormed into the boys' bathroom to see Lavender continuing to put cold
towels on Seamus's face.
"What happened?" Parvati asked.
"I don't know," Lavender replied. "I was cutting his hair, and he started to say how pretty I looked,
even without makeup. All I did was sort of lean over to get a better look in the mirror, and he
passed out."
Parvati gave Lavender a skeptical look. "I suppose your pajama tops were unbuttoned when you
happened to lean over."
Lavender gave Parvati a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?" She fingered her pajamas and
was satisfied they were fully buttoned. "Anyway, I was behind him, cutting the hair on the back of
his neck, and he said I looked fresh and pink and that I had cute freckles. All I did was rest my
hands on the top of his head and lean forward, to get a better look in the mirror."
Parvati looked at her friend closely, then her face split into a broad grin. "He swooned!" she cried.
"Lavender, a cute boy actually swooned over you."
Lavender's eyes lit up. "He did!" she cried. "Oh, I've always wanted someone to swoon over me,
just like in the romance tales in Witch Weekly."
Lavender jumped up and she and Parvati embraced, bouncing up and down excitedly.
Then Seamus groaned and began to move his head around in confusion. Lavender suddenly stopped
and dropped down beside him, helping him sit up. She took a close look at him to see if he was all
right. He looked at her in a daze. "Lavender...?"
Suddenly, Lavender threw her arms around him, pressing his face into her chest. "Don't worry,
Seamus, honey. Lavender's here. She'll take care of you."
Parvati gave the couple a knowing smile, shook her head with a chuckle and exited the boys'
bathroom for the final time that night.
And Seamus swooned again.
In the meantime, Fred and George were sneaking up the stairs to the girl's dorms to try to lure
Angelina and Katie up to the Astronomy Tower for some late night 'star gazing.' Just as they got to
the first level, they saw and much-relieved Neville stepping out of the girls' bathroom next to
Moira.
Fred turned to George. "Looks like Moira got her look, after all," he said knowingly.
And for the second time that night, Neville and Moira turned beet red, squeaked and ran off in
opposite directions.
101
CHAPTER EIGHT MAGIC
Sirius kept his hood up. It was cool enough that the hood wouldn't draw attention. But then, this was
Knockturn Alley. Wearing a hood drew no notice at any time to the year.
He lounged casually against the wall of the alcove and waited. He watched as others watched him,
unobtrusively. Others lounged and watched, as well. Knockturn Alley always had its share of
loiterers. Some had business. Some had nothing better to do. And some, like Sirius, simply waited
and watched.
He had been approached twice already by witches with dubious intentions, but he merely shrugged
them off. A heavily scarred young wizard sidled up to him at one point, quietly asking him if he
was interested in frogs. He knew this was a code for a hallucinogenic potion, highly illegal and
highly dangerous. Sirius shook his head without comment and the scarred young wizard moved on.
Sirius was becoming nervous. Shane had promised to be there by 8:00 pm. But he refused to check
his timepiece. Visible impatience drew attention in this part of the alley. And attention was
something everyone here sought to avoid.
He saw a movement at the end of the lane. A thin figure in worn but otherwise fashionable robes
made its way toward him. Sirius saw the figure lower its hood.
It was Shane. But he looked distinctly different. His hair was much longer and worn in a queue and
was streaked with gray. His eyes seemed more hooded than Sirius remembered and he had a few
days' growth of beard. But that didn't cover a livid curse scar across his cheek, which gave him a
rakish look. Sirius nodded.
"A new you?" Sirius whispered.
"A few charms here and there. They remember the hair, the scar and forget the face. Ready?" Shane
muttered quietly.
Sirius nodded and the two walked a few paces to the entrance of The Empty Vessel.
***
The bar was dimly lit and smoky, with patrons scattered at rickety tables around the room. Sirius
sniffed. Not all the smoke coming from those long clay pipes were the regular rag-cut tobacco so
common in the neighborhood. The patrons glanced up and then went back to their Firewhiskeys and
their plots and plans.
Sirius and Shane took seats at the end of bar. Sirius didn't notice but Shane took the end seat and
angled his back against the wall, giving him a good view of the door.
The bartender came down to their end. "Two ales," Shane said quietly, then grabbed the bartender's
wrist as he reached for mugs. "From a bottle," he said softly.
The bartender made a face and set down the mugs and reached under the bar and grabbed two fresh
bottles of ale. Shane took one and sniffed the cork, and nodded, placed some sickles on the bar.
As the bartender wandered back to the other end of the bar, Shane poked Sirius. "He's coming?"
Sirius nodded. "He's coming."
The two sipped their ales in silence as their eyes wandered over the other patrons. Suddenly, a witch
rose and wandered over to Sirius.
"Hey, there," she purred. "You're new."
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Sirius eyed her. She was possibly his age. But given the life in Knockturn Alley, she night be a lot
younger. Sirius gave her a smoky smile.
Suddenly, her smile became a little less mercenary. "Hey, I know you," she said, becoming a little
more excited, showing she probably was a lot younger than he initially thought. "You're Sirius
Black."
A small frown quickly passed over his face, then returned to a speculative smile. He tilted his head
in acknowledgement.
The woman placed her hand on his arm. "You know, you're something of a hero around here," she
whispered. "Leading the Red Robes around by the nose all those years."
Sirius gave her a half shrug.
She leaned forward a little more, her smile now genuine. "I think you're wonderful," she murmured
in a throaty voice.
Sirius smiled softly with same smoky look. Then he slowly leaned forward and gave her a gentle
kiss. She tasted of Firewhiskey and tobacco.
She gave him an even broader, wide-eyed smile. "Wow. Wait until Madam Meritrix hears about
this."
Sirius leaned over to her again. "I'd appreciate it if you kept this between us..."
The girl blinked. "Oh, Merrie. My name is Merrie." Suddenly, she looked positively girlish. "Are
you doing anything later...?"
Sirius looked at her with sad eyes. "I'm busy, Merrie. Maybe some other time."
Merrie looked at him with disappointed eyes, and Sirius reached up to touch her cheek. "Sorry," he
whispered.
Suddenly, the door to the bar opened and a small figure scurried in, looking over his shoulder. The
figure glanced around the bar then, spotting Sirius, hustled over.
Merrie stepped away in disappointment and Mundungus Fletcher took her stool. "Sirius," he said
breathlessly. "You wanted to see me?"
Sirius nodded. "Hello, Dung."
Fletcher looked around, glancing at Shane. "Who's the scar," he asked urgently.
Sirius peered at Fletcher. "Someone who wanted to meet you."
Fletcher angled himself to stare at Shane. Shane merely nodded. "Just call be Robert," he said
softly.
Fletcher eyed Shane. "I know you from somewhere?"
Shane simply shrugged.
Fletcher nodded a couple times. "That's not your real name. Robert," Fletcher said flatly. "I know I
know you."
Shane shrugged again. "Sure you do. My real name is William Masterson," he said humorlessly in a
normal tone.
Suddenly, several people near them started chuckling at the name of the Minister of Law
Enforcement and Chief Auror.
Fletcher frowned and looked back at Sirius. "Not Order business?" he asked.
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Sirius shrugged. "No. What'll you have?"
"Firewhiskey, as long as you're buying."
Sirius nodded and signaled the bartender.
Fletcher looked back at Shane. "You want me? So talk."
Shane continued to stare blankly at the door to the tavern, fingering his scar. "Sirius here tells me
you know people, hear things," he said quietly without looking at Fletcher.
Fletcher eyed him suspiciously. "Selling or buying?"
Shane turned his head slowly, but didn't answer.
Fletcher scowled as he moved onto Sirius's stool as Sirius stood to order two more ales. "I have
some stuff I'm looking to move. Cauldrons. Wands. I've got a couple high-quality brooms. I can get
some other stuff."
Shane leaned forward. "That's just ballast. I'm just looking to buy information. And maybe some
contacts."
Fletcher pursed his lips. "Ballast?" he said thoughtfully. "What are you looking for?"
Shane leaned even closer to Fletcher. "It seems that a certain wizard from a prominent family
recently had to make a sizeable withdrawal from Gringotts. Gold. A lot of gold. About 400,000
Galleons worth."
Fletcher gasped. "Malfoy," he muttered in amazement.
Shane didn't react. "You know what 400,000 Galleons worth of gold weighs? About 1250 pounds.
And gold doesn't shrink or lighten very easily. So someone must have been used to help transport it.
I'd like to know who." He gave Fletcher a quick once-over look. "For the right information, and a
successful operation, it might be worth somebody's weight in gold," he said quietly.
Fletcher continued to stare at Shane. "That's dangerous stuff. Stealing from Death Eaters. And the
Dark Lord."
"The more risk, the greater the reward," Shane muttered.
Fletcher blinked in sudden recognition. "I know who you are," he said suddenly. "You're Black
Sean Patrick. Part of Algie Halger's gang down in P-Town. We heard you were killed along with
Algie in that ambush by the Red Robes outside of Portsmouth a couple years ago."
Shane glowered. "Quiet, you ninny." He turned to Sirius. "I thought you said this one was a pro,"
Shane hissed.
Sirius gave Fletcher a nasty look. "Listen, there are others I could have gone to, Dung. But I came
to you. Now don't blow your chance."
But Shane had grasped Sirius's arm and motioned his head toward the bartender. Sirius turned to see
the bartender casually step behind a curtain.
Sirius turned to Shane with questioning eyes.
"Get ready to Disapparate," Shane hissed.
Sirius gave Shane another puzzled look.
Shane frowned. "A bartender in a place like this would never leave the bar untended, unless..."
Suddenly, the door to the bar slammed open and a half dozen Aurors burst in. There were two
*pops* and Mundungus Fletcher was suddenly alone.
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***
Sirius blinked and stared at Shane. "What the hell was that all about?"
Shane suddenly grinned. "Black Sean Patrick is a wanted man," he said with a chuckle. "It wouldn't
do for an undercover Auror posing as a wanted criminal to be arrested and roughed up by other
Aurors who didn't know any better."
Sirius gave Shane an angry stare. "You're free-lancing, aren't you. This isn't part of an Auror
operation. You're doing this on your own."
Shane shrugged. "Well...not entirely on my own. There are one or two who know. Like Cyrus
Thomas. And Kingsley Shacklebolt."
"The Order?" Sirius said, wide-eyed.
Shane sighed. "Well, I'm not sure about what you mean by the Order, but Cyrus and Shack asked
me to do a little investigating for them. And it was a good chance for me to bring 'Black Sean' out
of mothballs. I haven't had a chance to play him in a couple years," he said, chuckling once again.
Sirius frowned. "And what if I didn't Disapparate. I never was that good at it and I'm out of
practice."
Shane turned to give Sirius a lazy grin. "Well, if you splinched, then part of you would be spending
time in the nearest Auror holding facility. I guess I would be babysitting the rest of you until I
found a way to get your parts back together to be sent to St. Mungos for an unsplinching."
Sirius frowned. "That's not funny."
Shane snorted. "Well, if nothing else, that little act we put on proved that the Black Brothers are
now a made item in the underworld. Sirius Black and Black Sean Patrick. Bona fide bad guys," he
said with a broad grin.
***
It was almost suppertime. Harry flexed the muscles in his shoulders and heard his neck crack as he
gathered his study materials and began stowing them in his satchel. He looked around the library
and noticed how few students bothered to come up between their last classes and supper. He looked
across the table at Parvati, who looked bored as she paged back and forth between two books and
scratched out a few cursory notes. He smiled.
He couldn't believe how well things were working out between the two of them. He could barely
keep his mind on his studies when she was around, but if she caught him staring, she would give
him a playful swat or a pinch to get him back to work. And he would return the favor when her
caught her staring at him. Except he wouldn't pinch. He would tickle.
But beyond their romance, he was surprised how well they complemented each other academically.
Parvati was actually a lot brighter than he had thought. And she was a top student in potions and
Herbology, doubtless from having been exposed to the potions ingredients import business all her
life. And he found her help in those subjects invaluable, particularly as she could explain in simple
terms the importance of each ingredient and the context for preparing and using each potion that
they were studying.
Divination was the other subject that Parvati excelled at, to Harry's continuing amusement and her
exasperation.
"I swear, Harry," she would say I exasperation. "You've got such a Muggle attitude. You expect
Madame Trelawney to teach you to see the future like looking at a Muggle tele, with all the details
about what is happening there for you to watch. It's not like that," she would say with a sigh.
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He made a face and Parvati gave him a playful pinch.
"No really," she said with a smile. "It just provides you with general guides and warnings about
what is to come. Oh course, Lavender is better at it than I am. She's the one with a real inner eye.
But it's fascinating to see glimpses...feeling tones about the future."
Harry would gave her an indulgent smile. "And what does the future hold for us?" he said with a
smirk.
Parvati frowned. "I'm not sure. I've been trying to figure that out. What I've been seeing mostly is
storm and strife, with something beautiful just beyond. Like a heavy storm with a clearing in the
clouds off on the horizon," she said wistfully.
Harry would chuckle softly and give her a hug.
On the other hand, Parvati was weaker in Charms, Transfiguration and, particularly, Defense
Against the Dark Arts. Harry noticed that she took a lackadaisical attitude toward subjects she
wasn't already familiar with. And Harry was almost going to give her a lecture after she made a
comment about DADA being a "boy" subject when she, herself, blanched and suddenly started
babbling about her use of the stunning curse against Voldemort's followers. Harry chuckled and
scolded her about being able to use her DADA training against all her male admirers. "It would
save me the trouble," he told her with a smile.
"More likely I would use it against your admirers, Harry Potter," she said with an evil glint in her
eye.
Harry chuckled softly. "Well, at least no boggarts this year. No more mummies," he teased her.
"Just human opponents. Moody told me."
Parvati gave him a sly smile. "I don't think my boggart would turn into a mummy any more. More
likely it would turn into Blaise Zabini, or Hannah Abbott...or Hermione," she whispered, then
blanched that she told him.
Harry took a quick look around, then leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. "Don't worry,
sweetheart. It's you that I love...although Padma is pretty hot," he said with a chuckle about
Parvati's identical twin.
And each found that, by listening and learning from the other, they reinforced their strengths while
improving in the areas where they were weak.
Which left Astronomy, which they both despaired at mastering, and History of Magic. So they
worked together in class to keep each other awake and out of class to learn what they couldn't from
Professor Sinistra and the ghostly Professor Binns. Which was why they were in the library together
on this quiet Thursday afternoon.
***
"It's almost suppertime," Harry said as he stuffed the last of his materials into his satchel. "Time to
pack up."
Parvati looked up, surprised. She made a face. "I've only got a couple more inches left on my
essay," she said in a bored tone. "You go ahead. Don't bother to wait. I'll meet you in the Great
Hall."
Harry shrugged and got up. "You're sure?"
Parvati sighed. "Yeah. We can compare notes after supper."
So Harry later found himself walking toward the Great Hall for supper alone when Pansy Parkinson
jumped into his path.
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"Harry! I'm glad I caught you," she said breathlessly as she pulled him into a corner next to the
grand staircase just outside the entrance of the Great Hall.
Harry rolled his eyes. Pansy had twice tried to corner him with a predatory look. As soon as Draco
Malfoy's father had become a fugitive, his mother had killed herself and the Malfoy fortune frozen
by the Ministry, Pansy had begun to shun her housemate and presumed boyfriend. Harry had
managed to squirm away from Pansy each time, but not before hearing her rather blunt
propositions. The first time, he was puzzled. But the second time, he knew to simply disengage
himself without responding as nastily as he wanted to.
He was about to do the same this time, but Pansy had a strong grip on his arm. "Harry," she
whispered urgently. "I think we should meet tonight. I know a place we can go to talk and...well,
whatever happens."
Harry frowned. "Sorry Pansy. I don't have the time."
Pansy gave him a kittenish look. "Oh, I'm sure you can make some time for me."
Harry knew that subtlety was not Pansy's style, but he wanted to avoid being blunt or rude, if
possible. "I'm seeing Parvati. I have to go," he said quietly.
Pansy gave him a level gaze. "I can show you things Parvati can't," she said with a smoky look.
Harry's frown deepened. "No, Pansy," he said firmly.
Pansy drew her head up in a haughty expression. "I can give you more than her. I can give you
breeding."
Harry was beginning to get angry. "If breeding is so important to you, why bother with me. After
all, my mother was a mudblood," he growled through clenched teeth.
Pansy's eyes narrowed. "Sure, Harry. But Parvati's not like your mother. And neither am I. At least
we're white."
Harry started as if slapped across the face. Now his eyes narrowed in fury. "You are a pig, aren't
you," he said in a low, menacing voice. He yanked his arm out of her grasp and stormed into the
Great Hall.
Harry was half way to his usual spot when he heard the shouting start.
"You keep your hands off him, you bloody whore," he heard Parvati shout out in the entry hall.
"Leave me alone. You're nothing but a slutty wog," he heard Pansy scream in reply.
Harry turned and, wand out, was off on the run back to the entry when he heard Pansy scream. By
now, most of the students in the Great Hall had turned to the doorway in surprise and alarm. He had
his wand out when he heard an "Expelliarmus" repeated twice in rapid succession in a deep heavy
brogue.
Harry turned the corner to see Parvati on one side of the entry hall, glowering furiously at a tearful
Pansy, who was rubbing her upper right arm. "She hexed me," Pansy exclaimed through her tears.
Harry looked to see Mad Eye Moody looking back a forth between the two angry girls with what he
thought for a moment was a glint of humor. "Aye, lassie. She gave ye a good 'un there...only
because she was faster wit' her wand that you were," he said sternly.
Again, Harry thought he could detect a trace of humor in Moody's voice. Moody turned to Harry.
"Mister Potter. Yer gonna have to learn to keep yer lovers separated better than this," he said with a
smirk through his craggy, scarred face.
Harry ran to Parvati and put his arm around her. "Are you okay, sweetheart," her murmured,
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embracing her.
"POTTER! I should have known you were behind this!" Professor Snape snarled as he dashed into
the entry hall, followed closely by Professor McGonagall and the rest of the staff and a small group
of curious students.
"Severus!" Moody barked in a commanding voice. "I've got it under control. Mister Potter had no
part in this. 'Tis the two lassies here, goin' after each other like two cats in heat. I'll handle it."
Snape gave Moody an angry look but stepped back. Then he turned back to the entrance to the
Great Hall. "Get back to your meals. All of you!" he shouted to the students gathered.
In the meantime, Moody turned to Harry, Parvati and Pansy. "What's this all about now?" he said
with authority.
"She attacked me," Pansy cried through her tears.
"Balls," Parvati shouted. "She had grabbed Harry and when he pulled away and turned, she pulled
out her wand and pointed it at his back. It was a lucky thing he was out of sight before she was
ready to curse him," she said angrily.
Moody turned to Harry. "Mister Potter?"
Harry still had his arms around Parvati in a protective embrace. "Pansy cornered me and made what
I considered inappropriate suggestions. When I rejected her propositions, she made some offensive
remarks and I walked away. That's all I have to say."
Suddenly, there was some snorting and chuckling from the entrance to the Great Hall.
"I told you students to get back to your tables," Snape snapped, turning. He looked like he was
about to start deducting house points when he realized that nearly half of the students there were
from Slytherin House, the table closest to the door. But there were students from every house,
mostly sixth and seventh years who, by tradition, took the places closest to the doors and farthest
away from the staff table. The students, nearly all giggling over Harry's remarks, began returning to
their tables to share the gossip.
Moody, who was enjoying the scene immensely, turned to the two girls. "Well, now. I think we can
excuse Mister Potter from blame...at least in this case," he said, chuckling. "As fer ye two lassies, I
ain't one fer punishing the whole House fer the sins of one, so no House points. But I ken that ye
both could do with a bit o' coolin' off time. About of week's detention 'ill do, I'm thinking."
Moody glanced up at Dumbledore, whose eyes were sparkling in mirth.
"...And I'd have a good mind ta take yer wands 'til they cool off a mite, but I suppose ye'll needin'
them fer yer classes," Moody continued. "Let's just say we'll be puttin' up with no more of yer
nonsense, eh lassies?"
Parvati raised her chin in a proud manner, giving Moody a regal nod. Pansy, for her part, was
sniffling and casting poisonous sidelong glances in the couple's direction.
Moody nodded. "You. Miss Patil. Report to Mister Filch at 7:30. You, Miss Parkinson, 8:00. The
next night, ye'll switch with Miss Parkinson reporting earlier. Ye ken?"
Parvati nodded again, as did Pansy, meekly.
Moody nodded. "Off with ye, then."
Parvati grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him gently toward the entrance to the Great Hall. But Harry
paused and put his arm around her waist before entering. The couple paraded down the center of the
middle aisle, their arms around each other's waists possessively to the chuckles of the boys and the
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sighs of the girls. When they reached their usual seats, Parvati stopped and threw her arms around
Harry's neck and kissed him to applause, hoots and catcalls from the assembled students, before the
two finally sat down.
Parvati smiled to herself. She hadn't really been thinking about anything but how angry she was at
Pansy and proud and protective she was of Harry for standing up to Pansy. At least until he put his
arm around her waist and marched her into the Great Hall. But now she realized what she had just
done. She had firmly shown to the entire school that she and Harry were truly a couple and neither
would brook any nonsense from rival suitors.
Pansy, on the other hand, was taken aside by a furious Snape, who gave her a brief, angry lecture.
"I'll talk to you further after the meal, Miss Parkinson," Snape hissed. The delay, and Snape's glare,
caused enough of a delay so that, once Pansy entered the Great Hall, all eyes were turned there in
anticipation of her entrance. As she attempted to slink into the hall, she began to hear the chuckles,
whispers, and giggles, even from her fellow Slytherins.
As she made her way toward her seat, she passed Draco Malfoy, who was sitting alone with empty
chairs that once had been reserved for the now departed Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him.
Pansy slipped into Crabbe's old spot and looked down at the plate in tears.
She turned slightly toward Draco and unobtrusively whispered to him.
"Kill them, Draco. If you don't have enough pride to kill them for your dad and mum, kill them for
me. Both of them."
***
Parvati was dressed in an old pair of riding britches and one of Harry's old flannel shirts, another of
Dudley's old hand-me-downs. The shirt, along with much of Harry's old wardrobe, suddenly had
gone missing and presumed discarded after a long, and often exasperating debate Parvati had with
Harry about the way he dressed a couple days before the previous Hogsmeade weekend.
Harry had been furious, but Parvati returned his old clothes and eventually dragged him into
Hogsmeade not for the butterbeer but for a whole new wardrobe. And at least Harry 'magically'
recovered his beloved T-shirts which were birthday gifts from his Muggle friends.
But now Parvati was blushing furiously. Because, as she stepped out of Filch's office, she saw
Harry waiting for her, fighting a smile. "So that's where that shirt went. I seem to have forgotten I
had lent it to you," he said smirking.
Parvati looked down in embarrassment. "Well, it was too big for you and ugly," she stammered.
"But...I kind of like to snuggle up in it at night in bed when it's cold. It's sort of...well...like having
you there with me," she said, blushing and even brighter red.
Harry chuckled. "Okay," he said softly. He looked at her and saw she was carrying a gallon tin of
metal polish and an arm full of clean rags. "So, where are we going."
Parvati looked up with a start. "What do you mean 'we'?" she said in puzzlement.
Harry gave her a warm smile. "Well, I figured you might want some company, and maybe some
help. Although now that I see what a thief you are, maybe I'll just sit there and watch."
Parvati looked at him in surprise. "You want to come along with me? On detention?"
Harry nodded solemnly. "I've got to keep my eye on you. I don't want to find any more of my
clothes go missing. By the way, you're not wearing my boxers as well, are you?"
Parvati giggled. "Noooo," she said with a seductive smile.
"Show me," he said with a smirk.
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She gave Harry a flirtatious look. "Not right now. But maybe some other time...soon, maybe."
It was Harry's turn to blush. He was shocking himself by being so bold, but he was expecting her to
give him a playful pinch. He didn't expect her to respond in such a way to his suggestion. "Well,
where are we going?" he managed to choke out.
"The main floor corridor. The suits of armor," she said, suddenly smug at Harry's apparent attack of
shyness.
***
Harry and Parvati walked to the main corridor together and began work. They were passed at one
point by Professor Flitwick who, after registering surprise that Harry was there, suddenly smiled
knowingly and walked away without saying a word.
The couple had taken up positions on either side of one of the newer suits of armor and were busy
chatting and working their way up the leg from the sabotons protecting the feet to the greaves
protecting the shin up past the knee to the cuisses protecting the thigh. As Harry daubed a little
more polish on his rag and reached to polish the inner thigh, he heard a voice.
"Young gentleman. If you would be so kind. I would prefer a woman's touch down there," the voice
said.
Harry looked around, as did Parvati.
"What?" he said tentatively, listening for where the voice came from.
"Up here, young sir. And again I entreat you that a woman's touch down there would be much
appreciated over yours."
Harry and Parvati both looked up. Harry stood up on the pedestal and opened the visor of the armor.
"Is someone in there?" he said with a speculative look.
"No, kind sir. It is I, William du Vorge."
Harry started. The voice was coming from within the armor, but it didn't seem that there was
anyone in there. Harry lit an Illuminatus charm and poked it past the visor and into the helm itself
and looked in. But he saw nothing and no one. He stood on tiptoes and saw nothing inside but the
interior of the suit itself. He slowly closed the visor and sat down, shaking his head to Parvati.
She looked up. "Probably Fred and George. It's charmed to talk."
The voice came again. "Of course I'm charmed, my lady. I am wizard armor."
Harry looked up again. "What did wizards need armor for?"
The armor seemed to pause as if to offer an inaudible sigh. "Young gentleman. In my time,
protective charms were not as well developed. So armor was employed to provide a base, an
anchor, if you will, for the protective charm. And it also served to fend off nonmagical attack, like
Muggle armor. I would hope that your esteemed instructors would have explained this to you."
Harry and Parvati looked at each other in amazement. "No, kind sir. We learned about the battles,
the leaders, the winners and the losers. But not how they were fought," Parvati said.
"Then you have much to learn. I rode at the side of Occam the Sharp during the Goblin War of 1612
and saw much of the battle of the Sherwood plain."
Harry shook his head. "Wait a minute. I've polished you before and you never spoke. As a matter of
fact, except when wizards charm the suits of armor to sing Christmas carols, I've never heard any
noises coming from you or any of the armor here...except when Peeves knocks you over to annoy
Filch."
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"Peeves," the armor hissed. "Were it not for the Bloody Baron skewering him on a regular basis for
us, we would have no rest at all."
Harry blinked. "But why haven't you talked to us before?"
The armor paused again. "Well, we prefer to keep our counsel. And 'tis rare that we have a choice
as to who will be doing the honors of polishing us. We do so much prefer the hands of a lovely
lady, particularly down where you were, young sir. Thus, on this occasion, there was such a choice
presented and I wished to voice my preference on the matter."
Parvati burst into giggles. "Surely you've had girls polish you in the past."
The suit of armor seemed to shiver slightly. "Yes, my lady. But few as charming as yourself. And
we talk amongst ourselves about such gentle caresses for months afterward. Thus, I expressed my
preference in your case as it is such a rare thing for us to enjoy a fine lady's attentions."
Harry now joined Parvati's giggling. "Well, Sir William. I'll take the cuirass, visor, helm and
pauldrons and Parvati can take...well, below the waist. Okay, sweetheart?"
Parvati now was overcome by giggles and rolling on the floor. Finally, she caught her breath. "Yes,
I will for such a gallant knight," she managed to choke out.
Once the couple settled down a little, Parvati took over where Harry was working and began
working on Sir William's cuisses, causing the strangest noises to come out of the suit of armor.
***
Professor Binns drifted through the back wall of the classroom and sat down in the vicinity of the
chair on the rostrum of the classroom.
"I have got your essays from last week's assignment. I must say that, on whole, I was a bit
disappointed in them," he said in a droning voice, as Ron mouthed Binn's words along with the
ghostly professor, the same words he seemed to use every time he distributed corrected essays.
Harry chuckled and elbowed his friend playfully.
"However..." Binn's continued, as the class suddenly started at his unexpected addendum. "I was
extremely impressed by the work of Miss Patil and Mister Potter," he said, nodding to each side of
the room, oblivious to the fact that Harry and Parvati were both on the far left of the room. "Rarely
have I seen such insight into a battle, especially one as remote in time as the Battle of the Sherwood
Plain. It was almost like being there. Although I do think the role of Sir William du Vorge was a bit
overemphasized by both of you, the work and research was otherwise outstanding. Ten points to
Gryffindor for each of you."
Ron simply stared at Harry, then Parvati. Hermione, who now sat on Ron's other side, gave a wideeyed look at Binns and then sunk down in her seat with a pout. Seamus, who was in the row behind,
leaned forward and tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Must be all that wartime experience you two had
at the battle of Parkinson," he whispered mischievously. Parvati, now sitting next to Harry, turned
and gave Seamus a swat and Lavender, next to her new boyfriend, Seamus, smacked him on the
back of the head. The rest of the class, simply stared and gave a collective shrug. Another
inscrutable move by the world's most boring professor.
***
"I seem to recall Sir Harry asking the you gentlewoman about the wearing of a certain set of boxer
shorts," Parvati said with humor that couldn't quite cover up the anxiety in her voice.
It was Friday night. Parvati's detention, and Harry's aid, had ended on Wednesday night and the two
had spent a long evening in the library Thursday night, when Harry normally napped before his
patrol, catching up on homework and getting a head start on weekend assignments.
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This weekend wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, which made it a snogging weekend. Harry figured
they would sneak off to the Astronomy Tower and hope for a semi-private spot. But he hated going
there, because everyone knew him and Parvati and there was no chance of anonymity that some of
the less prominent students enjoyed. Still, it beat hiding out in some stuffy closet or taking one's
chances in an empty classroom.
Harry looked over to Parvati, who was talking urgently with Lavender. Lavender absently made a
couple faces, apparently in deep concentration as Parvati talked. Then Lavender nodded and smiled
at her roommate. Parvati took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Harry's eyes. She motioned
Harry over as Lavender got up and gave Parvati a hug and a quick peck on the cheek.
Harry sat down and Parvati took his arm, leaning close to his ear. "Harry," she whispered. "You
know Lavender and I are Madame Trelawney's favorite students."
Harry nodded, checking his impulse to make a face.
Parvati paused and took a deep breath. "Well, she gave us a key to her classroom and her apartment
up there. She told us we can use it for independent study whenever she wasn't there...or for other
things, as the stars dictate." Parvati was breathing heavily now.
Harry turned to look at her. She was obviously nervous, so Harry took her hand and stroked it with
his thumb. "Yes?" he whispered.
Parvati cleared her throat. "Well, I was thinking maybe we could go up there, rather than to the
Astronomy Tower or someplace. Madame is on her way to Diagon Alley to see a friend and will be
away for the weekend. So..."
Harry nodded. "It would be nicer than the Tower or a closet," he said nervously.
Parvati looked him in the eye. "You want to go...now?"
Harry nodded and gave a shy smile. "Okay."
They made it up the stairs to the Divination classroom. Parvati took out a small medallion and
whispered a charm and the trap door opened and the ladder lowered itself. The couple slowly made
their way up the stairs before Parvati uttered another charm and the door closed.
The room was not nearly as cloying as it normally was. But Harry still felt as if the walls were
about to close in on him as he held the girl he loved. "My...boxers?" he managed to choke out at her
reference to them.
Their clothes were rumpled as his shirt and her blouse were both nearly fully unbuttoned. They both
were breathing heavily from their snogging session. His glasses, fogged completely, had been set
aside. But he could see Parvati there next to him looking down. "Harry," she whispered in a barely
audible voice. "Make love to me."
Harry blinked rapidly. "Parvati?" he whispered.
She looked up at him. He could see the anxiety and eagerness and fear and excitement in her eyes.
As beautiful as she was, as striking an impression as she made on strangers and acquaintances and
on Harry himself, he could see they were the eyes on a 15-year-old girl. Could he do this? Should
he do this? He was frightened. But, as he looked in her eyes, he could see something else.
Trust.
He now realized that, with all they had been through together, all the mind-numbing terror, the petty
arguments, the crises big and small, the teasing and the comments they'd heard, he knew now that
Parvati did love him. And that she trusted him that he loved her. And he realized now that he did,
very much. It was an emotion so deep and alien that he felt light-headed.
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He slowly leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. "Are you sure?" he whispered.
She closed her eyes and nodded.
He leaned farther, rubbing his cheek, which he had the foresight to shave before the date, against
hers before kissing he side of her neck. "You know I love you. You don't have to if you don't want
to," he whispered, his voice now hoarse with emotion.
Parvati embraced him tightly, her eyes closed. "I love you, too," she whispered with a slight catch
in her voice. "And I want to."
"Okay," he managed to choke out.
She slowly let him go and rose, taking his hand and led him to the bed.
***
Parvati woke first. She was on her side and felt Harry's body pressed against her back, his arm
draped around her waist. Harry had been so caring and nervous and gentle and sweet. But waking
up, feeling his warmth, his arm so protectively around her, made Parvati want to stay like this
forever. It was the most special, most amazing, most wonderful feeling she had ever felt.
She snuggled back against him and felt him suddenly start, then relax against her. "Morning," she
whispered.
"Hmmmm," he murmured, tightening his grip around her waist and nuzzling the back of her neck
contentedly. "How are you?" he whispered cautiously.
She gave her own purr of contentment. "Wonderful," she said with a sigh.
"I love you," he whispered sleepily.
"I love you, too," she murmured and the two lovers drifted back to sleep.
***
Harry was in the boys' bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
What had happened? Had he really changed so much? Things had been happening so rapidly that it
was frightening.
Had it really been four months ago that he had been afraid to talk to people, to express what had
really concerned him? Had it really been a six weeks ago that he had been hurt by Hermione? Had it
really been a month ago that he had discovered Parvati? And now he had made love to her.
Growing up, he had never experienced physical contact with other human beings, except when he
got a beating from Dudley and his friends or a whipping from Uncle Vernon. It was like he was a
leper, not to be touched.
Yet he had craved physical contact, any kind of contact, to reassure himself that he wasn't alone in
the universe, that he wasn't unclean, that he was worth enough to be shown the kind of friendship
and affection that every child took for granted.
Then he came to Hogwarts. And he found a friend in Ron who had no problem throwing his arm
around Harry's shoulders after a winning Quidditch match. And Hermione, who had hugged him,
and gave him that kiss at the end of last year. And he adored Molly Weasley, who hugged him
without reserve.
Then, this summer. He had discovered that Mae would hug him like Molly had, and Tony would
gently squeeze his shoulder or give him a fatherly hug when he really needed it. And Sara Geddes
had kissed him. And so did Pam DiMarco. And he had danced slow dances with Pam and Patty
Rourke and Beth Simon. He found he loved dancing, not for any other reason than it gave him a
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chance to hold a pretty girl, or a nice girl, even if she was not so pretty.
Then came Parvati.
Parvati came from a big crazy, affectionate family. And she was very demonstrative. She thought
nothing about holding hands with him. Or hugging him. Or leaning against him for comfort, or just
to be close.
It was Parvati, more than anyone, who made him feel he was worth something. Not a leper to be
avoided. Not someone who was apportioned a rare bit physical friendship or affection that left him
wanting for more.
She made him realize he was special.
And now they had made love. Not because he had pressed for it, but because it was the natural
extension of their relationship.
Or was it?
He worried that things were happening too fast. That things were going too well. That somehow, he
didn't deserve such happiness. He was frightened.
He leaned his forehead against the mirror. 'Was this what it meant to be happy?' he thought.
He leaned back again and looked at himself in the mirror. 'Yes,' he said in a whisper. 'I suppose it
is.'
***
Harry was just stepping out of the shower when Ron padded in, barely awake. "Jeez, Harry. You're
a better man than I am," he said sleepily. "You been out running already?"
Harry blinked in surprise. His mind was still racing as he thought about last night and was in
something of a daze. And he didn't want to tell anyone about sleeping with Parvati. Not even Ron.
"Yeah," he answered. Then he gave an inward smile. He wasn't sure when he and Parvati fell
asleep, but it probably well before lights out. Maybe as early as either of them had ever fallen asleep
on a Friday night. They had awakened very early and then went back to sleep for another hour or
so. They managed to get up before six and snuck back to Gryffindor Tower before anyone was up.
No one was the wiser, he thought, except maybe Lavender, who was privy to most all of Parvati's
secrets as Parvati was to hers.
Ron scratched the top of his head. "Man...what time did you guys get back last night? I think we
were all asleep by the time you got back." Ron gave Harry a smile. "Have a nice snog, did you?"
Harry gave Ron a sidelong glance. "Oh, no. We weren't snogging. We were working on our History
of Magic homework," he said with a smile.
Ron snorted. "Yeah. Right," he said, chuckling. "An historic snog, is more like it."
Harry laughed. "Something like that. But I'll tell you one thing. It was magic."
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CHAPTER NINE SIR RICHARD
"What do you think, Harry?"
As with all Halloween feasts, the meal itself was light, consisting of a soup and garden salad and
chicken breasts with vegetables. Not that Harry had noticed. It was a Tuesday and he hadn't noticed
much for the past few days.
As he had sat down at his place in the Great Hall, Parvati slipped in beside him and gave his knee a
quick caress under the table and, after giving her a warm smile, he just seemed to drift off into his
own world again. That Harry had noticed. Until he drifted off into his own world again. And, as he
thought of the girl beside him, he found it was a very pleasant world.
Parvati too was quiet, with a small, barely noticeable smile on her face. But at least she seemed to
be able to feed herself, while Harry simply sat there, a bit of chicken on his fork poised halfway to
his mouth amid the hubbub of his classmates surrounding him at the table.
On the other side of Parvati, Lavender leaned over and gave Parvati a gentle bump with her
shoulder and the two girls quietly giggled. Then, just past Lavender at the table, Seamus turned
around and looked down the table toward Harry. He noticed Harry still staring off into space and
Parvati being uncharacteristically quiet as she took another dainty bite of her salad and looking like
she was about to do a Trelawney space-out.
"Looks like trouble in paradise," Seamus whispered to Lavender with arched eyebrows.
Lavender turned to her new boyfriend with a quizzical expression.
Seamus motioned to Harry, who continued to stare off into space and Parvati, who seemed to be
eating in slow motion.
Lavender turned back to Seamus, a half-amused, half-exasperated look, shaking her head. Then,
with a snort, she reached into her robe. "Here's a knut. Buy a clue," she said with a quiet chuckle.
Seamus looked at her in confusion. Lavender rolled her eyes. "Maybe, just maybe, you'll understand
someday," she whispered. "And that's a big maybe," she said with laughter in her eyes.
In the meantime, Ron was still trying to get Harry's attention from across the table. "Harry! I asked
you what do you think?" Ron then picked up a crouton from his salad and flicked it at Harry, hitting
him in the cheek.
Harry came out of his daze and focused on Ron. "What?" he asked in confusion.
Ron motioned with his head across the Great Hall. "What do you think Gillespie's reading over
there? I mean, who brings a book to the Halloween feast?"
Harry blinked and turned around, looking across past the Ravenclaw table and spotted Mike
Gillespie, the Hufflepuff seeker eating with a book propped up in front of him. He couldn't quite
make out what it was but the longer he looked at it, the clearer it became. He still couldn't read the
lettering, but he thought he recognized the cover. He gave a small smile and shook his head.
Harry turned to Ron and shrugged. "It looks like Catching the Snitch by Wronski," he said, his
eyebrows raised. "Same as the copy you gave me over the summer."
Hermione looked up suddenly and peered over at the Hufflepuff table. "You could see that from
here?"
Harry shrugged. "No, I couldn't read the title. But the cover looks about the same. And it would
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make sense that he's prepping for our match on Saturday."
Ron shook his head. "That's the only thing that could get a Hufflepuff to read anything," he said
with a smirk.
Hermione gave Ron a quick elbow. "That's not nice," she hissed. "They study, too. Probably more
than you do."
Harry chuckled at his best friends' antics as Hermione frowned and Ron made a face at her. Then,
as he turned back to his meal, he heard Fred quietly call Hermione's name.
Harry looked up and saw Fred and George staring at Hermione with anxious expressions. Fred
raised his eyebrows questioningly. "The timing?" he whispered.
Hermione blinked in surprise and consternation. "Here? In the Great Hall? I thought it was
supposed to be in the common room," she said with a note of concern.
George gave a brief smile but Fred was still staring at Hermione with an anxious look.
Hermione frowned. "You're going to get us in so much trouble," she whispered.
George rolled his eyes and now Fred gave a small smirk, then frowned. "But it's past time," he
whispered.
Hermione looked down at her plate with a dark expression. "What time?" she muttered.
Fred looked at her with a worried expression. "Right at 7:00," he whispered and held up a
dilapidated timepiece up. It read 7:03.
Lavender looked back and forth between Hermione and the twins. "What's at 7:00," she asked as
she pulled a chain from around her neck to show an elegant silver locket. She pressed a button and
opened it to reveal a timepiece of her own. "It's 6:59."
Suddenly Fred and George smiled and Hermione sunk down in her seat and began to glance around
furtively.
The Gryffindors who had overheard the conversation suddenly looked around in a panic and began
to brace themselves. Then, just as the main meal was beginning magically to disappear from their
plates, they heard it. A quick whoosh.
Suddenly, all eyes were on the Hufflepuff table. Everything and everyone at the table had turned a
bright yellow. There was another whoosh and in a blink, the Ravenclaw table turned a bright blue.
This was followed by another whoosh and the Gryffindor table turned a bright red. Finally, a fourth
whoosh sounded and everyone and everything at the Slytherin table turned a sickly dull pea green,
and the raising of voices throughout the hall suddenly turned to laughter at the trick and at the
annoyed expressions of the Slytherins that their house color had been so inartfully applied.
But that wasn't the end. There was a final whoosh and the head table and the professors suddenly
turned electric orange for Halloween.
At this, the whole hall erupted in laughter, which was joined by most of the professors, although
Professor Snape appeared to take on a menacing look that was blunted by his new, day-glow
complexion. And Professor Trelawney looked disconcerted but managed a weak smile. A
translucent orange Professor Binns continued to sleep in his corner of the table.
Professor Dumbledore laughed heartily. But no one looked more pleased than Professor Flitwick.
"That was a brilliant charm," he squeaked. "Ten points for whoever dreamed that up."
"And a week's detention," Snape muttered sullenly.
Just as the laughter and applause began to die down, there was a whoosh and the Hufflepuff table
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returned to its normal color with a quick burst of orange and black glitter, followed by the
Ravenclaw table, the Gryffindor table and the head table.
The Slytherin table, however, saw their sickly color slowly fade as the traditional Halloween treats
and pies magically appeared.
Hermione turned around at the angry grumbling from the Slytherin table and then glared at the
twins.
Fred shrugged and George smiled. "Green isn't a primary color, so it takes longer for the charm to
wear off," George said with a grin.
Hermione frowned. "Orange isn't a primary color either, and you had no trouble with that," she
muttered.
Fred and George merely smirked and dug into the treats. The George looked over at Harry.
"Remind us to return your Jazzbow Jake's book," he said with a smile.
Harry grinned and the looked over at Hermione with a smile. "I didn't know you could do a timing
charm. You'll have to show me," he said with a smile.
Hermione frowned again. "Don't get me involved in this. It wasn't supposed to be done here," she
whispered, her face glowing pink. "That's the last time I help those two," she muttered to herself.
Harry chuckled and looked around at the table. There was so much. He saw the pumpkin pie. It was
his favorite. But next to it was the mince pie. He smiled as he inhaled its fruity spice. Maybe he
would go for the mince pie and have a slice of pumpkin pie later, if there was room.
***
The black shadow stole across the dimly lit library reading room and made its way to the librarian's
desk. Madam Pince kept the dangerous books, the true dark arts references in the restricted section.
The most advanced and dangerous, as well as the rarest, of these books were chained to their
bookcases and could only he read at the folding carrels attached to the bookcases themselves.
But there, behind Pince's desk, was a wide, locked cabinet. It was there where the rarest and most
dangerous books were kept. Students generally were not aware of its existence as, whenever they
saw the cabinet opened, all they saw were mundane supplies associated with the library trade. But
professors knew. There were tomes in there that any scholar in the wizarding world would pay a
mound of gold to read.
And the shadow knew. For behind those mundane library supplies was possibly the key. The
shadow uttered a series of incantations. The door slowly fell open and the supply shelf descended.
And there was the narrow corridor, with room enough for one person to pass through. It was lined
on both sides with books, some ancient, some modern. The shadow reached out and slid its hand
across the bindings, often leaving finger tracks in the dust on the spines of some of the lesser used
volumes.
Then the hand stopped. Could this be the one? Might this be the answer? A quiet spell was uttered
to unlock the volume from the shelf and the hand reached for the book. It was not as old as most of
the volumes, although some foxing and discoloration was evident. The Dark Arts in Defense:
Avatars, Servants, Surrogates and Protectors by Orfeo Torre. The shadow had heard of this book. It
was quickly removed from the shelf and stored in the robe that absorbed all light, reflecting none.
Just as it had entered, the shadow silently glided out of the corridor, closing and locking the cabinet,
and making its way around the perimeter of the library to the entrance. It knew that this was the
most dangerous moment, to travel from the entrance of the library to the hidden stairwell. Already it
had been seen once, two weeks ago, but had relied on its robe for camouflage. But it had to be
117
careful. It slowly and cautiously cracked open the side door to the library and glanced through the
crack. No one was there at the prefects' post. The shadow nodded. They were elsewhere, on patrol.
***
Harry and Janet McDonald slowly made their way up the stairs from the main entrance to the first
floor. McGonagall had been right, Harry supposed. Going on walking patrols at irregular an
unpredictable hours would tend to confuse an intruder.
Talking with the enchanted armor of Sir William du Vorge along with Parvati had made Harry
realize that history wasn't just a dry set of dates and facts, but accounts of the lives of real people.
That aside, though, it usually took only about 15 minutes for him to become thoroughly bored with
his history of magic assignment for his 11:00 class the next day. Then he would sit there and wait
for Janet to become bored with whatever she was working on. That usually took another few
minutes, as she had as little tolerance for revising in the wee small hours of the morning as he did.
Then they would check the time and decide if it was too soon to begin their walking patrol. It nearly
always was. So they would sit and try to think up things to talk about until one or the other decided
to start the rounds.
Janet was pleasant enough. But her conversation generally centered on whether her relationship
with Andy Stebbins had a future. Andy was a nice guy. And Janet was a nice girl. And together,
Harry assumed they would have a nice life together. A nice and boring life.
But then, there were times when he envied the notion of a boring life. Andy would take over his
father's business as a factor in the grain supply business. Janet would have kids that would alternate
between being boy and girl, red-head and brown-haired, and everyone would live happily ever after.
Not a Death Eater in sight.
Harry sighed and looked up as they reached the landing. Another thirty feet to the library door and
an additional thirty feet beyond and they could sit down at their patrol stations and relax and talk
about boring, safe lives.
Suddenly, the library door cracked open. Harry reached out his arm to angle Janet behind him as he
pushed them both against the wall behind a suit of armor. Slowly, he reached to his wand holder on
his belt and motioned Janet to do the same. The door opened a little wider. Then what looked like
shadow stepped out and began making its way to an open space in between two other suits of armor
on the far wall.
Harry suddenly stepped out of the shadows.
"Stupefy!" he shouted.
There was a sudden glow around the shadow, which staggered noticeably, but nothing else
happened. The thing in the impossibly black robe wheeled and shot a curse at Harry and took off
running down the first floor hallway past the prefect patrol desks.
Harry, who dove to avoid the curse, jumped to his feet. "Call it in, Janet. He's got a shielding
charm," Harry shouted, and took off in pursuit.
Harry just vaguely heard Janet shout "Increpare" as he raced behind the fleeing figure. The figure
had a good 20 yards on him and was maintaining its distance, which caused Harry fleeting concern
as he had always considered himself one of the fastest runners at Hogwarts.
Suddenly, the shadowy figure darted through the entrance to the stairwells. Within a couple
seconds, Harry reached the entrance, only to find the doors locked. 'A locking charm,' he thought
briefly in annoyance. "Alohamora," he shouted, and the doors swung open. He dashed through the
doors only to have to duck another hex being cast from the stairwell above.
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"Petrificus Totalus," Harry shouted at the fleeing figure, scoring a hit that once again, almost
making the shadow trip but otherwise merely causing the robe to glow. But it didn't slow down his
quarry, which was taking the stairs three at a time.
Harry made the turn at the second floor landing in time to see another hex, which he dodged. But he
looked up in time to see the shadowy figure dart through the doors to the forbidden third floor.
Harry regained his footing and dashed up the next flight of stairs, only to feel the stairwell suddenly
move. 'No!' he thought savagely. 'Don't change!'
He reached the top of the stairs and with a great effort leaped the newly forming gap between the
moving stairs and the landing that the stairwell was moving away from. He managed to just make
the distance, hitting the edge of the landing at the hips, grabbing for purchase. Suddenly, he felt
himself slipping back off the landing and toward a 40-foot drop to the bottom of the stairwell
below. He dropped his wand and grabbed the carpeting. He only just managed to gain a hand-hold
in the loose floor covering. That gave him just enough time to make a grab and hook his right hand
around the stone balustrade at the side of the landing.
Harry managed to swing himself up and, adrenaline pumping, regained his feet. Grabbing his wand,
he pulled on the doorknob, only to be met again with a locked door. Another Alohamora spell and
he was through, ducking and rolling behind the statue of the hump-backed witch. He heard a door
slam shut down the hall and quickly raced to see which one.
He reached the second door and saw the large, iron ring moving. It was the same room where
Hagrid had kept Fluffy to guard the Philosopher's Stone in his first year. He tried the door. Again
locked.
"Alohamora," he shouted, and the door clicked open to the huge, completely dark room. Harry
quickly darted inside, rolling to his right and trying to let his eyes adjust to whatever light was
there. But the door had closed behind him and there was no light at all.
He cursed himself. He couldn't use his wand to light the room. It would be too weak and make him
an instant target. He controlled his breathing and tried to calm himself. He listened, but heard
nothing. No movement. No heavy breathing. Nothing.
He knew there was a charm for a situation like this. What had Moody said? An old Auror trick. 'Six
Suns in the Shadows.' He fought to remember. Then he nodded to himself. Worth a try.
Harry tried to imagine where he was in the room. It was a big room with two steps down. He was
facing toward the center of the room. Slowly and silently, he crawled down the steps and slowly
arose to a crouch. He took four steps into the room and closed his eyes and listened again. Still
nothing.
He shrugged internally and decided to give it a try. Keeping his eyes closed, he muttered the charm:
"Sex Sols in Umbrae."
He slowly opened his eyes to see the entire room bathed in a light so bright that the mere reflection
of it against the bare walls hurt his eyes. He knew any opponent not prepared would be temporarily
blinded by the light. And surrounding him were six large disks floating irregularly. Each disk acted
as a reflector to the bright lights on the sides away from Harry. He looked down and could barely
see his hands, as the spell acted to not just to project light away from him but to absorb any light
coming in.
Then he remembered to keep moving, in case his opponent started casting random spells toward the
darkened area in the middle of the floating disks. Moody had assured him that the disks would
move in an irregular pattern to confuse an opponent as to where exactly the center of the disks
might be.
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The room was roughly rectangular so, for all its size, there were very few places that were in
shadows--only a few areas on the ceiling where stone structural beams broke up the smooth
solidity. There was a spot near his feet where the trapdoor cast a thin shadow. And there was one
corner where there was a huge pile of old trunks apparently stored away.
He muttered a quick charm sealing the trapdoor and slowly made his way over to the area where the
trunks lay piled in a haphazard manner. It was a slow process, as he walked silently and in fits and
starts to keep his opponent from judging his movement from the way the six disks casually
followed his progress.
As he got to the trunks, he slowly wandered to and fro to see if there were any that were obviously
tampered with. The dust that had collected around the trunks seemed undisturbed, with no apparent
footprints. He peered more closely.
Suddenly, he pointed his wand. "Aperire." But none of them opened. "Aperire per vim." Again,
none of the trunks opened, although one seemed to be trying to break open against rotted leather
fastenings.
He walked closer to see if there were any gaps in the stonework behind the trunks, which must have
numbered at least 200. As he peered closer, his eye caught the reflection of an elaborate brass
nameplate on a large trunk painted black and white.
He stared at the name in surprise, and couldn't help but chuckle to himself. It was Aunt Petunia's
bete noire. The summation of all she thought of as sinful and perverse and disgusting. The man she
had claimed finally corrupted the most beautiful woman ever to come out of England.
The name on the brass nameplate was Richard Burton.
'Richard Burton was a wizard?' Harry thought to himself in amusement, as he cast another wary
glance around the room. The despoiler of Aunt Petunia's beloved childhood idol, Elizabeth Taylor?
The sweet, brave young heroine of National Velvet turned into an adulteress by that filthy
Welshman, as Petunia would call in on one of her rants. No wonder Petunia hated wizards. Maybe
she knew.
Harry continued to smile in amusement, then realized he was still searching for an intruder, possibly
a Death Eater. He continued his circuit around the room, checking every corner, every irregularity.
He tried several opening charms on the walls and floors to see if there was a hidden entrance that
would have allowed the intruder to escape undetected.
He also tried random stunning spells in case the intruder had some sort of invisibility protection.
But there was nothing. Finally, Harry shrugged and returned to the door of the room. The only
escape had to be through the trap door. And he was not going to go down there without someone
following as a backup.
He cast a general illuminatus charm to light the room, removing the six suns charm and opened the
door.
"Hello!" he shouted out, his wand still out and ready in case the intruder was still on the floor.
"Harry? Harry Potter?" came a familiar voice.
"Professor McGonagall?" he replied.
Minerva McGonagall walked down the corridor into view. "Harry, where have you been? Everyone
has been in a panic over you." Suddenly, she came up to Harry and gave him a hug. "I have a good
mind to deduct house points against you for scaring us all to death."
Harry gave McGonagall an embarrassed smile, which rapidly faded. "I followed him up here. He
had on a robe that seemed featureless. Just a flat, flat black, like a shadow. And he had really strong
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shields that seemed to absorb any curses I hit him with. He came up here and I heard a door slam
and saw the ring on the door moving, so I followed him in. But he had disappeared."
"Which room?" she asked urgently.
"This one. Fluffy's old room. He probably ducked down the shaft through the trapdoor."
McGonagall frowned. "I seriously doubt that. The trapdoor has been sealed by the Headmaster.
Only he knows how to open it."
Suddenly Professors Dumbledore and Snape appeared. "Potter. Why didn't you wait for Professor
Flitwick?" Snape asked in annoyance.
Harry stared at the Potions Master. "He was checking wards and locks while we were making the
rounds. We were just finishing up when we saw the thing. There was no time."
"That thing could have killed you, like he almost did to Malfoy. Use your head," Snape replied
angrily.
Harry sighed. Flitwick was the professor on duty patrol tonight, but he was probably still on the
other end of the ground floor and they would have lost the shadow had they waited.
Dumbledore gave Harry a small smile. "Harry, you did your duty," he said benignly. "But Professor
Snape is correct. We have to be careful in dealing with this intruder. We don't know who, or what, it
is."
Harry took a deep breath. "I don't think this one was the one who beat up Malfoy."
"What!" Snape exclaimed.
Harry frowned. "I saw Draco's injuries. It looks like he was beat up by someone big and strong. The
person I was chasing was small. Maybe my size. Maybe smaller. He was fast. Or maybe she, I
couldn't tell. The robe seemed to absorb the light, like you couldn't get a sense of its shape. But
small. And very fast."
Harry and the three professors pondered the nature of their opponent.
After some discussion, the group broke up, with Snape and Dumbledore checking Fluffy's room
while McGonagall led the protesting Harry down to the first floor.
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said softly. "You don't have to make your second set of rounds tonight. I
think you've had enough exercise and excitement for one night. And we have several staff members
now wandering the hallways to check on things for the rest of the night."
Harry smiled. "That's all right. I don't mind rounds. At least they're more interesting than reading
my history of magic text."
McGonagall started to give Harry a stern look, but that gave way to a knowing smile. "Now you
don't want to let Professor Binns hear that. I am sure it would hurt his feelings...if he were still
alive."
Harry chuckled. As McGonagall turned to leave, Harry suddenly spoke up. "Professor, what's in all
those old trunks up in Fluffy's room?"
McGonagall turned and gave Harry a thoughtful look. "Oh, those belonged to former students.
Some were left behind. Some belonged to students who had died while they were here and who had
no family, or whose family were Muggles and had no use for the contents. And some were simply
bequests from former students who entered the Muggle world after Hogwarts and who had no one
in the wizarding word to leave their wizarding belongings to, or who simply wanted to leave a piece
of themselves here at Hogwarts after they departed this world."
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Harry nodded thoughtfully. 'Richard Burton at Hogwarts,' Harry thought, shaking his head. 'Now
that would have made for an interesting movie.'
***
Draco Malfoy had regained his breath and shook his head. It would have to be Potter. What was he
thinking? Thursday nights were the nights Potter was on patrol.
He took another deep breath. He couldn't believe that he had the presence of mind to spell a door on
the third floor to swing open as he passed and that Potter bought the ruse. That was the only way he
managed to buy enough time to find the right portion of the wall that opened to the secret tunnel
back to the dungeons. Knowledge of those tunnels was one thing to thank his father for. One of the
few things.
He silently faced the blank wall. "Viridis et Argenteus." The wall moved aside and Draco slipped
into the Slytherin common room.
As expected, Jack Bletchley was laid out asleep on the couch in front of the fire. Draco shook his
head. Bletchley was supposed to be on duty in the Slytherin common room in case of an intruder.
Draco had debated about slipping him a sleeping draught before he left, but that would be like
taking coal to Newcastle. Bletchley was already sound asleep two hours ago when Draco had
slipped out.
He quickly removed the night-camouflage robe and stuck it in a bag he wore over his left shoulder.
He made his way down the corridor to the boys bathroom and took a long drink of water.
He looked up at his face reflected in the mirror. All signs of the beating were gone except that he
now had what looked to be a part in his eyebrow over his left eye. Madam Pomfrey had offered to
remove that little scar, but Draco declined. Let it stay there as a reminder. To remind him of those
whom he would pay back.
He returned to his dorm to see his two remaining roommates fast asleep. He quietly changed into
his pajamas, regretting that in now was too cold for silk. He just as quietly slipped into his bed and
cast a silencing charm and lit his wand. He pulled out the book and opened it.
Yes, this was the book. Almost 150 years old. Orfeo Torre. A deadly dull writer. But he knew his
Latin. And he knew his spells and curses. And he knew what Draco needed to know to get his
revenge.
***
Harry was still thinking about Richard Burton's trunk when his shift ended. He knew he should be
tired, but he wasn't. How was he ever going to be able to take his nap?
Because of his prefect patrol duties, Harry had permission to lie in until his first class at 11:00 am.
And he could summon a breakfast in his dorm between 10:00 and 10:30 from the kitchens using a
special enchanted parchment he, and all the prefects, had been given. That gave him a chance to
make up the four hours of sleep he'd lost because of patrol duty.
But Harry was restless. He had to know what was in that trunk. Maybe a guide to being a ladies'
man. Or charms on how to deepen his voice to a Shakespearean baritone. Or love potions. He
started chuckling and couldn't stop even when he got into the Gryffindor common room.
Fortunately, no one was awake to ask him about it.
As he lay in bed, trying to get to sleep, he kept coming back to that trunk. What was in it? He had to
know. And why had it lain up there unnoticed. After all, Burton had died a mere ten years or so
before. It was one of Harry's earliest memories, recalling his aunt yelling and laughing over the
death of 'That Filthy Welshman.' For once, she wasn't yelling or laughing at him.
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Surely there had to be members of the staff who knew about Burton. He was one of the most
famous Muggles in the world. Didn't anyone notice that he had left his trunk to Hogwarts?
As he heard his roommates begin to stir, he pondered. If no one paid heed to the trunk then, would
they miss it now? Even if only for a few days?
He chuckled. His curiosity piqued, he thought about how he could gain access to the trunk. After
all, the third floor was undergoing renovations. Would there be anyone to notice if he tried to get
into the room?
He sighed and lay back on his pillows. Stupid idea. Trying to get up there unseen.
He sat bolt upright. The invisibility cloak! Then he sank back into his pillows again. Too risky.
Especially at a time like this when there are prefect patrols and professors wandering the halls at
irregular hours all night long. What if he were caught? They'd accuse him of being the late-night
intruder. And he might be charged with theft and expelled. Stupid idea.
He stared into space as he heard Seamus and Dean get out of bed and start chattering.
"Shhhh," he heard Dean hiss. "Don't want to wake sleeping beauty.
Seamus snorted. "What a deal. Gets to lie in until 10:00, then breakfast in bed. Some life, these
prefects."
Dean chuckled. "Maybe he doesn't lie in. Maybe he's got a hot date with another prefect."
Seamus snorted again. "Who? Hermione? Naw, she's always at breakfast with the rest of us."
Dean started giggling uncontrollably.
"What?" Seamus asked.
"Maybe he's got a date with Andy Stebbins."
Seamus burst into laughter. "No, Parvati is prettier. I can't see his chucking her for old Stubby
Stebbins, the Hufflepuff Chuffer. Anyway, I saw Stubby at breakfast the past few Fridays when
Turley was bitching about prefects getting to lie in."
Dean giggled. "But not the girl...McDonald."
Seamus laughed. "Oh, the old chestnut mare?" Seamus then made a whinny like a horse. "'Hey,
Janet. What's two plus two'."
Harry heard four thumps, imagining Seamus was mimicking a horse pounding its hoof four times.
He frowned. Janet wasn't pretty, but she was pleasant-looking. If she had something of a long face,
she certainly wasn't horse-faced.
Dean gave a small laugh. "Still, she's female and the opportunity is there. Any port in a storm."
"Any wand in a duel," Seamus retorted.
"Any broom in a match," Dean replied.
"Any witch for a switch," said Seamus.
"Any hag for a stag," Dean replied
"Any hole for a pole," Seamus countered.
"Hey, stop being filthy," Neville snapped. "It's bad enough you've got to wake everyone up, without
you two getting disgusting."
"Uh oh. We woke his eminence," Seamus said in mock alarm.
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"Oh, shut up and take your shower," Neville muttered.
Harry could hear Neville stalk out.
Seamus chuckled. "You know, it could happen."
"What?"
"Harry could be shagging Janet and no one would ever know," Seamus said in a conspiratorial tone.
"What do you mean?"
Seamus paused. "Well, everyone goes to breakfast. Even Filch shows up at his back table. Harry
and McDonald are probably the only ones in bed. So who's to say they aren't in the same bed? You
know, they've got all night for foreplay."
Harry could hear Dean and Seamus roust Ron, who muttered a few choice words before stumbling
into the showers after them.
And Harry sat there thinking.
'Breakfast would be the perfect time for the snatch,' he thought. 'Why not?'
***
The hardest part about snatching the trunk was the shrinking charm. Harry had made it down to the
third floor under his invisibility cloak with no problem. But when he got to the trunk, his first two
tries to shrink the trunk were a comedy of errors. The first time, he got the spell wrong and nothing
happened. He feared that his second attempt had failed as well, until he noticed that the trunk had
shrunk, but only by about ten percent. He shook his head and visualized exactly how small he
wanted it. And, on the third try, he succeeded. He simply slipped it in his pocket and silently crept
out.
He was back in his dorm in less than 30 minutes.
His first reaction upon opening the trunk was one of confusion. There was a cover letter dated
January 17, 1891.
As per the bequest of the late Sir Richard Burton, St. James, London, and with the consent of his
wife, Lady Isabel Burton, currently of No. 5 Baker Street, London, The following trunk, known as
the Magpie Trunk, be consigned to the firm of Flourish & Blotts, London, for disposal as per the
wishes of the deceased as expressed in the accompanying sealed document.
Arbuthnot & Greaves, solicitors
London
Harry sank into his bed, disappointed. This was some other Richard Burton.
He saw other formal letters, which he ignored.
Underneath were a series of handwritten manuscripts.
He shrugged and pulled the top one out.
The Ananga Ranga
Translated by Sir Richard Burton
Harry rolled his eyes at this. 'What in Merlin's name is this?' he said with a smile, and began
reading.
MAY you be purified by Parvati who coloured the nails of her hands, which were white like the
waters of the Ganges...
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Harry gasped. 'Parvati?'
He read on.
The loves of Krishna and the sixteen thousand milkmaids are recorded in the Bhagavat..
And, further, let men know that passion resides in different parts and members of the woman's
person...
Harry blinked. He had stumbled onto an 19th century sex manual. Or at least a 19th century
translation of a sex manual that dated from ancient India. He scrabbled through the other
manuscripts in the trunk.
First footsteps in East Africa
Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah
Unexplored Syria
Two Trips to Gorilla Land and the Cataracts of the Congo
Then he saw something he recognized.
The One Thousand Nights And A Night
This wizard was the man who wrote, or at least translated, the Arabian Nights adventures.
Then, at the bottom of the trunk, was a series of bound notebooks, tied together by lengths of
ribbon.
A sheet of paper at the top held the following note:
Let he who understands the arts and sciences of Witchcraft & Wizardry learn much from these
journals. For those who know of no such art, simply look upon these as fables and fabulations.
Harry untied the ribbon and began to read.
In my youth, I had the pleasure and pain of attending a school named Hogwarts in Scotland. It was
a school unlike any other. For it was a school of the mystic arts, where witches and wizards could
learn their powers and their place in the world.
It was at Hogwarts where I learned about life and love. Were it not for some indiscretions that
caused my leaving from the School, I would have lived a much different life.
Thus Burton began to relate his life in the wizarding world and Hogwarts, of a young witch named
Juno who he loved and lost, his expulsion and his subsequent life in the Muggle world, with
frequent forays into the Magical world whenever he recognized it around the world.
***
Harry paged through the notebooks. They described Burton's trips throughout the Middle East. It
also painted a picture of persecution of the Wizarding world in the region by a variety of cultures
and religions. A lost culture.
And it described a meeting in 'Dimashq' between Burton and an ancient Wizard named Nasr-al
Adin of Esfahan, who had fled his home and was living out his final days hiding in exile.
Burton had spent several weeks talking with the old man and had catalogued hundreds of ancient
charms, spells and curses from the ancient wizarding civilization. The remaining five notebooks
contained translations of Nasr-al Adin's teachings and two additional sacred wizarding texts Burton
had acquired from the old man.
Harry began paging through the notebooks. There were dozens of familiar spells, some of which
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were immediately recognizable.
Some, however, were completely alien. As Harry scanned through the final volume, his eyes
widened. Curses like he had never imagined. "The Golden Death." "The Little Death." "The Five
Parts." "The Departing." "The Flask." "The Extinguishing." "The Hidden." "The Confessor." "The
Return."
Harry's hands were shaking and his breath was coming in gasps. 'Who was this Burton? And what
would these notebooks yield?' Harry quickly repacked the trunk and performed a shrinking charm
on it. What should he do? These were truly dark arts. Should he return the trunk? But he couldn't.
He had to read the notebooks. He had to know.
***
"How many of you have committed a crime? How many of you currently are in violation of
Ministry regulations?"
The Aurors in the classroom murmured sullenly. A few, however, shifted in their seats
uncomfortably.
Sirius looked down at the group. "Hmmm. Each of you, to qualify for the Auror Academy, had to
be pretty good at Transfiguration. Okay, how many of you are registered animagi?"
There was an increase in the nervous shifting in seats.
Sirius nodded. "Okay, I am not going to ask you to confess. I'd hate to see the chaos of all of you
arresting each other. What I am going to do is ask any of you who are animagi to project onto the
blackboard your animagus forms. And I'll make it easy. I'll turn around and face away from you so I
don't see who is cross-eyed in concentration to perform that little trick."
There were some chuckles as well a groans and muttering over that comment. Sirius turned around
and watched the blackboard. Slowly a circle appeared. Then a smaller circle above it. Than an even
smaller circle on top. Then two triangles on top for ears. Then two little semicircles attached to the
bottom circle for feet. Then a long tail. Then whiskers on the top circle. A classic child's drawing of
a cat.
"There's one," said Sirius, chuckling. "A cat."
Suddenly, an owl appeared. "Oh, interesting."
Then a stick-figure dog. Then a more accurately portrayed dog.
Then a piece of chalk rose to the blackboard. It slowly started writing. 'I-can't-draw," it began.
"Falcon."
Sirius waited. After about a minute, he turned back to the class. "Well, given that there have only
been a handful of registered animagi in this century, it appears that were have the largest
assemblage of animagi in history right here in this room," he said, drawing hearty laughter from the
group of 50 mid-level and senior Aurors. "So what does that tell you?"
"That they better build a new wing at Azkaban for all of us," came a voice from the back, drawing
guffaws and chuckles.
Cyrus Jordan smiled and nodded. "It means that if we can do it, so can the people we are chasing,"
he said in his deep, accented voice.
Sirius nodded, acknowledging the murmurs in the group. "So maybe it's time for you all to learn a
little bit more about animagi, and unlearn a little about Ministry regulations.
***
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"Harry?"
Harry looked up, a little startled.
Professor Dumbledore smiled benignly at him. "Could you step into my office for a moment?"
Harry nodded, but gave an inward shutter. 'Had the Headmaster discovered his theft of Burton's
Magpie Trunk?' he thought in a panic.
Harry followed the Headmaster to his office. "Necco," Dumbledore said and the gargoyle moved
aside to reveal the spiral staircase up to his office. Harry stepped on the moving staircase as if being
transported to his doom.
Dumbledore offered Harry a seat and settled behind his desk. "So, Harry, have you felt anything
from your scar?"
Harry thought. "No, professor. Nothing."
"No dreams?"
Harry blushed. "Uhhh, no professor."
"Harry?" Dumbledore said skeptically.
Harry rapidly shook his head. "No!" Harry said a little too forcefully.
Dumbledore peered carefully over his half-moon glasses. "Are you sure?"
Harry was blushing furiously.
Suddenly, the twinkle returned to Dumbledore's eyes. "Ohhhh," he said with understanding. "Those
kind of dreams. No matter. I'd be worried if you didn't have those kind of dreams."
Harry squirmed in embarrassment.
"But nothing about Voldemort?"
Harry shook his head.
Dumbledore sighed thoughtfully. "I thought not," he said, as if to himself.
Harry was beginning to recover his composure. "Did something happen?"
Dumbledore looked back at Harry. "There was a minor attack in Lancashire. A couple of Death
Eaters throwing around Unforgivables. A few injuries but nothing serious. Both Death Eaters were
killed. Poorly coordinated attack. Probably just a spur-of-the-moment thing."
Harry nodded a shivered a little.
"And there was an attempt to get to the nurse who escaped from Voldemort. Again, poorly planned.
She wasn't even at home. The Death Eaters who attacked Disapparated before doing any real harm."
Harry nodded in relief.
"So nothing from Voldemort?"
Harry shrugged. "For the first week or so I could feel my skin prickle at times. I don't know if it was
him, but it just felt weird."
Dumbledore nodded. Then his face took on a quizzical look. "What's that on your wrist, Harry?"
Harry gave a puzzled look in return and rolled up the sleeve of his robe and shirt. "It was a gift from
Hermione," he said quietly as he peered down at the thin bracelet of leather, hair and grass. "It's
called an Earth Drawer."
"Hmmm," murmured Dumbledore as he took a closer look. "That's American, is it not? An
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aboriginal charm?"
Harry blinked and nodded. "It's Indian. Like cowboys and Indians. But I think they're called First
Americans or something like that. I think Hermione said it was from a clan called Oji-something."
Dumbledore settled back and seemed to ponder this. "I've heard of them. There is very little known
about Native American magic. There are very few texts on it. Their wizards and hard to find and,
even if found, are not very forthcoming. Understandable, I suppose, with what their people have
been through over the centuries."
"Ojibwe," Harry suddenly said.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.
"That's the name of the clan...err, tribe that made this," Harry offered.
Dumbledore nodded. "And you are aware of what this charm is supposed to do?"
Harry gave a half shrug. "It's supposed to help draw power from the Earth around you when you
need it or something like that."
Dumbledore nodded again. "Ah, yes. I have read about this. As I recall, you focus on the Earth
around you, or your immediate surroundings, and the bracelet helps draw an elemental power from
the Earth."
Harry gave the Headmaster a quizzical look. "Elemental magic?" he said with wide eyes.
"No, Harry. It does not control the elements. It merely is designed to be a magical amplifier, I
believe." Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly. "Also, as I understand, the wearer increases his or her
power by adding strands of hair to the bracelet from people or other creatures who are trusted and
loved by the wearer and who return that trust and love."
Harry stared at the Headmaster, who opened his eyes and smiled at Harry. "Were you wearing that
when you took the stonecutter's test with Professor Flitwick, Harry?"
Harry nodded. "I put it on when I got it on my birthday and it seemed to shrink to fit my wrist. I
tried to take it off, but I can't seem to. And Hermione was happy I was wearing her present and now
Parvati thinks it's cool, so I leave it on."
Dumbledore smiled indulgently and his eyes took on their characteristic twinkle. "So tell me what
you were thinking when you were with Professor Flitwick and the blocks of granite."
Harry shrugged. "Nothing, really. I just focused on the stone. It was weird. I started to notice the
patterns in the grain of the stone, the colors and sparkles and stuff. How pretty it was when you
looked at it closely."
Dumbledore nodded with a broad grin. "The magic works," he said in an almost surprised tone. "I
daresay you were actually drawing power from the stone as you used your spell. That's delightful."
Harry looked at Dumbledore in surprise. "What works?"
Dumbledore continued to smile. "You were using the Earth Drawer without even knowing it. It was
helping you."
Harry blinked and took a close look at the bracelet. "Wow," he said quietly.
Dumbledore nodded. "I would suggest you keep that little charm, Harry. And learn as much as you
can about it. It may come in handy in the future."
Harry nodded and then shifted uncomfortably. He looked up at the Headmaster who continued to
smile at him. Suddenly, he couldn't contain himself. "Professor? What happened to Malfoy?"
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Dumbledore's face suddenly became solemn. "We don't know. Young Mr. Malfoy is being
surprisingly uncooperative. Can you shed any light on the matter?"
Harry looked up, startled. "No Professor. I was at Quidditch practice at the time."
Dumbledore chuckled. "That is not what I mean, Harry. I was just wondering about young Draco."
Harry looked at Dumbledore. "He's been acting oddly ever since we met on the Hogwarts Express.
We had a kind of run-in. I accused him and his father of being a house elves for Voldemort."
Dumbledore let out a chuckle. "Quite the image, Harry."
Harry nodded. "But I thought he might come around. He was seeing Reverend Meacham for a
while. I don't know if he is any more."
Dumbledore nodded. "We can only hope. Draco has been through a lot in the past couple months,
and I fear he is not prepared to deal with it. He is, in many ways, a very sheltered young man. Now
he is being forced to grow up very quickly under very trying circumstances. I hope that you can find
it in your heart to aid him in this growth."
Harry frowned. "I tried. And he told me he wished me and Parvati dead. He said the same thing to
someone else that I've heard. Maybe he's growing up like his father."
Dumbledore sighed. "We must not hold his father's actions against him. His father is a tragedy. He
took all the worst of his heritage and discarded all that was good. Draco's grandfather was a very
strong man who died too soon. Lucius saw only his father's strength, and not his heart. As a result,
he suffered for lack of guidance. Now Draco has been put into a similar circumstance where he now
has no one to guide him, for good or for ill. That is why it is up to us to provide what we can to him.
Then it will be up to him to accept or reject it."
Harry shook his head.
Dumbledore gave Harry a soft smile. "Harry, I firmly believe that every life is redeemable. It may
at times seem to be difficult, or even impossible. But I believe that it is possible in nearly every
case," the Headmaster said softly.
Harry hung his head.
Dumbledore continued. "The trick of it is to catch a person early, when he or she is young. It's like
catching somebody who is leaping off a building. When they are young and haven't climbed many
stairs in life, it is easy to break their fall. And it is easier to convince them to make the leap. As they
get older, they find themselves on higher floors, making the leap of faith greater and more
frightening. And it makes the capacity for those below to catch them that much more difficult.
Young Mr. Malfoy hasn't climbed many stairs yet. It is our job to get him to make that leap of faith
now, before he climbs so high as to be unable to make that choice and before he loses the
confidence of all those who may be willing to try to catch him."
Harry nodded solemnly without looking up.
Dumbledore peered over his glasses at Harry. "You will let me know if your scar bothers you."
Harry nodded, understanding that he was being dismissed. "I will Professor."
***
As Harry had headed off with the Headmaster, Hermione frowned. "I wonder what that's all about?"
Ron shrugged. "He'll tell us when he gets back to the common room," he said in a preoccupied
voice.
As the two were walking side by side down the corridor, Ron casually edged closer to Hermione
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until they gently bumped.
"Ron, watch where you're going," Hermione said in exasperation.
Ron shrugged and kept glancing over at his friend. He took a deep breath and began edging over
again. And once again, he casually bumped up against her.
"Ron! Will you cut it out!" Hermione said in annoyance.
Ron sighed and followed her meekly back to the common room.
***
Harry stood in the first years' corner of the common room. "Okay, we've already covered the
pungere hex. Now remember, it isn't designed to truly damage your opponent. But if you can learn
to deliver a series of hexes in quick succession, it keeps your opponent off balance, like he was
facing a swarm of bees. Now, have we all been practicing?"
The first years all nodded. So did the second years who had gathered around behind the first years.
And several third and fourth years.
"Who wants to give it a try? Jordan?"
Jordan Amon, a shy third year girl, blushed but nodded.
Harry cleared the space and walked over to her. "Close your eyes." Jordan did. Harry spun her
around three times as the rest of the students braced themselves. "Now."
Jordan opened her eyes and quickly located the foot-wide leather coated board against the wall. She
quickly raised her wand and let loose a series of eight stingers without hesitation. Each hit its mark
with a sharp snapping sound against the board.
Harry continued to walk the group through several varieties of hexes and binding spells. He
frowned that some of the students got confused or set off their spells prematurely, or took too much
time. He looked up at Ron, Hermione and Parvati in exasperation. 'Help,' he mouthed.
His three fifth-year friends chuckled and waded into the group, splitting off the students who were
having trouble.
By the time suppertime rolled around, Harry was worn out. "Remember, the next one caught hexing
someone for fun gets banned from practice," he said wearily, eyeing Tom 'the Toad' Richardson,
who turned away in embarrassment.
Harry slumped onto a firstie couch. He felt someone sit down next to him and glanced over. It was
Pat McGrady, who had emerged as the unofficial leader among the first year Gryffindor boys as
Sam Bauman had emerged as the girls' leader.
Harry nodded. Pat nodded back. "I've been talking to some of my friends in the other houses and
some of them are thinking maybe they'd like to know this."
Harry nodded and waited.
Pat gave a curt nod of his own and continued. "Well, some of them would be interested in talking
with you, maybe learn some of what we're learning."
Harry sighed. "And...?"
Pat frowned in concentration. "Well, I'm thinking maybe we take the classes outside to a spare
classroom or something. Let some friends come in."
Harry sunk his head on his chest. "I don't know how well that would be accepted. I guess we could
do it. But we'll have to see what Professor McGonagall says. And Professor Moody."
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Pat nodded and got up.
Harry simply leaned his head back on the couch until Parvati grabbed him to drag him off to supper.
***
"Mister Potter! You're teaching the wee ones now?"
Harry started. He had entered the dungeon room where Moody had been tutoring him in dark arts
defenses every Thursday afternoon as wary as ever. He never knew whether he would meet a
mentor or an opponent. Moody had ambushed him twice before Harry learned to keep his guard up
to and from the session. And this had tended to sharpen his awareness at other times as well.
But he was unprepared for Moody's challenge. He simply nodded.
"You know these young ones well?"
Harry nodded again.
Moody, himself, nodded thoughtfully. "What're you teaching them?"
Harry shrugged. "Basic offensive moves. Hexes, stingers, binds."
Moody frowned. "Nothing dangerous yet?"
Harry rubbed his mouth thoughtfully. "I was thinking later on to go to stunners, but I figured I'd
watch them first to make sure they don't play with them. I found out one was doing hexes for fun. I
gave him hell."
Moody gave a curt nod. "Well, somebody's got to teach them. I'm not allowed. I spend all my time
with the first and second years introducing them to dangerous creatures and explaining basic spells
and concepts. No real skills until second year."
Harry nodded.
Moody turned both his eyes on Harry. "You ready to teach them?"
Harry nodded. "I promised two afternoons a week with the Gryffindors."
Moody's Magic Eye glanced around. "First years?"
Harry shrugged. "And second years and some third years."
"They any good?"
Harry shrugged. "It was tough the first week teaching them to focus. But now most of them can hit
a man-sized target at 15 paces with a hex series, even when I mix them up or spin them."
Now Moody's magic eye returned to stare at Harry. "In series? Straight or mixed."
"Mixed. I don't tell them what they have to cast until I stop spinning them. Most have no trouble
mixing their hexes. Now, if I could only figure out a way to present them with a challenge where
they have to figure out the best series of hexes to use on their own."
Moody began chuckling. "Looks like you are getting from them what I can't get from some of my
fifth and sixth years. Looks like you and I will have to develop a lesson plan."
Harry's head jerked up as he stared at Moody.
"And we'll have to find you a bigger space to work in, if your planning to take them from the other
houses."
Harry stared in surprise.
"We'll get you some help, too. Entwhistle's pretty good from Ravenclaw. And maybe the girl,
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Macdougal, and maybe the fourth year, Hatten. Malfoy's the only one worth my spit from Slytherin
and I wouldn't let that git near your group. Even the sixth years are wasting their time in my class.
Macmillan in Hufflepuff is the only one I'd let near a wand. Charlie Peoples is strong, but lazy.
Your year?"
"Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Parvati Patil."
"Patil? Your gal?" Moody asked with a knowing chuckle.
Harry nodded. "She's great with the young ones," he said defensively.
Moody nodded knowingly. "I'll get you the space. We'll get a plan together. The rest'll be up to
you."
Harry nodded, his head down.
"EN GARDE!!!" Moody cried, and the practice duel was on.
***
"I think he's gone mental," Padma Patil whispered to her boyfriend, Terry Boot, as they strolled
around the grounds.
Terry looked up absently. "Who?"
Padma rolled her eyes. "Who do you think?"
Terry looked out across the grounds. The only person he saw was Draco Malfoy, who was
wandering around the perimeter of the lake with a long stick, reaching out into the water, seemingly
prodding the mud. "Draco?"
Padma shook her head. "No, Elgrin the Eldritch."
Terry tilted his head and gave her a strange look.
"Oh, of course, Malfoy. Ever since his father tried to kill my sister and Harry and his mother killed
herself, he's been acting weird. And I think that beating he got scrambled his brains."
Terry shrugged. "Maybe he's interested in aquaculture. It's very useful knowledge, you know."
Padma sighed. 'Terry is such an airhead. What was I thinking?' she thought.
***
Ernie Macmillan has breathing heavily. He had his arms around her and he could tell she was
breathing heavily too. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. But the kiss gradually became more
urgent. Slowly and carefully, Ernie's hand slipped under her waistband. She moaned into his mouth.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured.
Betty Lewis, a fourth-year Hufflepuff, looked up at Ernie with unfocused eyes. "So are you," she
said in a throaty voice before kissing him again.
***
There was a gentle tapping at the window. Draco looked up at the window to see a large barn owl
seeking entry. He scowled. For Greinglass, or maybe Blythe. Or another secret message
from...him," he thought sullenly.
Draco was tempted to ignore the owl, but finally threw down the Dark Arts text he had stolen out of
the library and opened the window. The owl flew over and settled on Draco's bed.
He frowned, seeing a letter and a package. He shook his head and went over to his desk to find an
owl treat. He tossed the treat to the owl as he casually, and with a little trepidation, detached the
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letter and package. He blinked. The letter was from Carmina Malfoy Delaney.
Dear Draco,
I hope you got my previous letter.
I write this again in sorrow for all you are going through. I cannot find the words to console you.
All I can do is offer you what I offered your mother: A home if you need it. We don't have a lot, but
what we have is yours to share.
I despair for your lovely mother Narcissa. She had been through so much and deserved so much
better. I only wish that I had the foresight to go to her in person to offer her refuge when they took
the Manor, rather than doing so by owl. Perhaps someone being there with her would have eased
her pain.
I know how much she loved you. And I know she would always provide you with little gifts to make
your life at school a little brighter. I understand I can't replace her. But I can only try to help. So
I've sent you a little something. It's not much. Just consider it a gift from your mother through me.
As I said, we don't have much, but I will try to send you a little something from time to time to try to
brighten your day.
Love,
Your Aunt Carmina and Uncle Bill
Draco dropped the letter and stared at the box. It had two Xs. He absently tapped the box twice.
"Amplificare," he muttered, and the box enlarged to about a foot square. He tore the wrapping off
and opened it and stared.
Chocolate Frogs. And orange-flavored Sugar Quills, his favorite. And a little envelope. Inside were
ten golden galleons and a note: 'It's not much, but every boy deserves a little walking-around money
on Hogsmeade weekends,' it read.
Draco reached into the box and unwrapped a chocolate frog, which wriggled twice before resuming
its shape as a simple candy treat. He closed his eyes and leaned back into his pillows. As he bit a
piece of the frog, a tear ran down his cheek.
The text by Orfeo Torre lay forgotten at his side. It was opened to the chapter he had reread several
times already. It was a chapter titled simply: Loew in Prague-1680.
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CHAPTER TEN BEATER
"So, where do you want to go tonight?" Parvati asked with a smile as the food magically appeared
on their plates.
Harry looked up and smirked. "The Astronomy Tower?" he whispered mischievously.
Parvati gave him a pinch and giggled. "Not on a Hogsmeade weekend, you pervert."
Harry gave her a mock pout. "But think of how empty to Tower would be tonight," he whispered
into her ear.
She leaned back with an arched eyebrow. "We are going to Hogsmeade. I intend to have fun
tonight," she said with a toss of her head. "Of course, we may be able to fit in a quick kiss or two
afterwards...if you're good," she said, fighting a smile.
Harry was about to respond when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Kevin Entwhistle
peering down at him uncertainly. "Uhhh...excuse me, Harry," he said with a slightly anxious look.
"Moody talked to me today about something, well, to help you out with a project with the first
years."
Harry knew Kevin from Charms and Transfiguration classes the Gryffindors shared with the
Ravenclaws. In a House full of odd ducks, Entwhistle stood out as being at least seemingly a
normal, reasonably friendly guy. And he was a chaser on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, although
not a particularly skilled one. He brushed his thatch of brown hair nervously.
Harry nodded. "I've been helping out some of the younger Gryffindors with basic defensive spells,
hexes and jinxes."
Entwhistle pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah, Moody told me. And some of our first years were
asking about that. Terry got a little distracted...well, he sent them over to Mandy and me. She didn't
think it was a good idea, but Moody pulled me aside and asked me to talk to you."
Harry nodded. "Well, I guess we could get together. Moody also mentioned Morag and...what's her
name? Amy?"
Entwhistle frowned. "Hattan? The fourth Year?" he asked in surprise.
Harry nodded.
Kevin sighed and shrugged. "You going to Hogsmeade?"
Harry nodded.
Kevin shrugged. "Maybe we'll see you at the Three Broomsticks."
Harry nodded. "I guess. I'm going to try to get the back tables."
Kevin frowned. "Near the kitchens? The ones past the loo?"
Harry nodded. "They're pretty private. This is all between us, okay?"
Kevin nodded and turned, almost running into Ernie Macmillan. "You here about Moody, too?"
Ernie asked.
Kevin nodded. "You, too?"
Ernie gave him a smile. "Yep."
Kevin tilted his head in acknowledgement and began to move toward the Ravenclaw table.
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"Nice talking to you, Kevin," Parvati said in a sarcastic voice.
Kevin froze and turned to nod before scurrying off. Harry turned in surprise to stare at Parvati. Then
he remembered hearing about her now legendary screaming fit at Entwhistle in the stairwells when
they broke up last year.
Harry then turned to Ernie to see the usually casually confident Hufflepuff shifting as
uncomfortably as Entwhistle had been, running his fingers through his wavy, sandy blond hair, just
as Entwhistle had done. "Yeah, Harry. Moody said we should get together. When's good for you?"
Harry shrugged. "I guess I'm meeting the Ravenclaws tonight at the Three Broomsticks. You and
Hannah going?"
Ernie shifted with a sudden worried look on his face. "Well, I was thinking maybe staying in...but
Hannah wants to go and she doesn't like to go alone...I guess."
Harry gave a small frown at the way Ernie was acting but gave a quick nod. "Yeah. The back tables
if they're available."
The Hufflepuff nodded absently. "Okay. See you there."
As Ernie moved to leave, Harry got a sudden smile. "Oh, an Ernie? Have a couple firewhiskeys on
me," he said with a smirk.
Suddenly, Ernie smiled. "I will if you do," he said with a laugh. "Can't have only one hangover on
the pitch tomorrow."
Harry laughed. He was looking forward to Gryffindors' match against the Hufflepuffs the next day.
They had smooth flying chasers and their seeker, Mike Gillespie, was one of the best flyers at
Hogwarts. But he wondered about their beaters. Ernie was nearly as tall as Ron but wider, and
Wayne Hopkins was the biggest and strongest student he knew. Not that this would make them a
good beater team. Neither were the ideal size or build to be really good flyers. Fred and George
were a little smaller, much faster and much more experienced. It would be an interesting match.
Suddenly, he felt Parvati give him a gentle elbow in the ribs. "I thought you wanted to be alone with
me tonight," she said with a mischievous grin. "I didn't realize I would be with the king holding
court tonight."
Harry gave her a puzzled look. "But...I..."
Parvati erupted into giggles.
Harry's face suddenly softened. "I only feel like a king when I'm around you," he whispered.
Parvati looked at him and smiled, blushing.
***
Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. "This is so exciting," she said with eyes wide and glistening.
Because of the incident with Draco, Dumbledore insisted that all students use the coaches rather
than to walk the two miles into Hogsmeade. Harry and Parvati had strolled around Hogsmeade,
with Harry buying a large sack full of assorted candy at Honeydukes to share with the first and
second years who were left behind. But otherwise, they spent their time strolling, arms around each
other, just window shopping, content to be in each other's company.
Finally, they made their way to the Three Broomsticks. The pub was full of students, but suddenly
they saw Ron jump up and wave them over to a corner where there was some room. "Oy, Harry!
We saved you the spot!" he called out.
Harry could see Ron and Hermione, along with Seamus and Lavender sitting at a table. Harry
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frowned a little. He was getting a little tired of Seamus's humor.
Suddenly, Seamus turned back to Ron. "...so my Uncle Will tells the constable he's crazy. But the
constable says 'open to door to your garage.' So my uncle does, and there was the police car. He was
so pissed the night before that he didn't realize he'd driven the police car home by mistake. The
constable was so embarrassed by the whole thing, he didn't even give my uncle a citation."
Ron and Lavender roared in laughter, but Hermione merely rolled her eyes as Harry slid in beside
her as Parvati sat next to Lavender. Hermione leaned forward. "Seamus? Your uncle wouldn't be
named Will Hunting, would it?"
Seamus didn't blink. "No. Will Shaw. My ma's brother," he said with a conspiratorial smile.
Hermione leaned over to Harry. "No wonder he's so full of funny stories," she whispered in his ear.
"He's telling old jokes and tall tales from Muggle comedians and movies that no one in the
wizarding world has heard before."
Harry smiled and shook his head as Lavender winked at Parvati and she and Seamus got up. "I hear
the Wizengamot is meeting here tonight," Seamus said with a smirk and grabbed Lavender around
the waist as the two wandered off to find a table more at the center of things.
Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. "I saw Kevin Entwhistle a few minutes ago. He asked me about
teaching the first and second years. So it's really happening? We're really going to teach them? This
is so exciting!"
Harry nodded, returning her smile.
"Harry! Yer here!"
Harry looked up to see the normally severe face of Morag MacDougal spilt into a grin. Harry
returned the smile. She was hardly the prettiest witch at Hogwarts, with a square face, and nose just
a little too long and a chin that projected out. Harry thought that, when she got old, she would look
like the stereotypical Muggle image of a witch. But she was pleasant and, if you could get past her
thick Scot's accent, could be funny when she took it into her head to be.
Morag grabbed a chair from the opposite corner of the pub and pulled it up to their table.
Next, Ernie and Kevin appeared, carrying chairs. Following Kevin was Mandy Brocklehurst.
Finally, a tall, round-faced black girl with dozens of tiny braids, each secured by little bead, and
wearing a severe look on her face appeared. Harry smiled as she seemed to be wearing even more
bracelets than Parvati. He had noticed her around, but she usually looked too angry and forbidding
to talk to, even if she was in fourth year.
Harry nodded a greeting to the group.
Amy looked around and frowned, before Kevin stood up and gave her his chair and found another.
Parvati scooted over to the bench next to Harry as everyone moved a little closer to make room for
the growing crowd around the table. Not that Parvati minded. Harry put his arm around her back as
she leaned into him, smiling.
She loved being in the center of things. She knew that it really was Harry who was the focus of the
group, but she didn't mind. This was about teaching the young ones how to defend themselves and
she, with Harry, had been part of this from the start. And she didn't mind the little thrill she felt was
Harry casually caressed her back as he said hi to the newcomers.
She noticed that, at the next table, Hannah take a seat next to Ernie as Mandy Brocklehurst grabbed
Kevin Entwhistle to set himself down next to her and pull that table next to Harry's.
Parvati smiled as she now realized that she and Harry were, in effect, at the head of a on long table
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that contained most of the most powerful and popular students in fifth year. The only little pang in
the back of her mind was Hermione, on Harry's other side, who was sitting in the bend of the bench
seat and who kept grabbing Harry's arm excitedly about each new idea she seemed to come up with.
Suddenly, a new face appeared. Several people looked up at the young girl with the long, dull blond
hair and the wide, gray blue eyes. "Hey, Moon," Amy said in her thick, working-class London
accent. "Set down."
Harry looked up, puzzled. He knew of Luna Lovegood, but didn't really know her. She seemed to
drift through the halls in a dream-like state like one of the more sedate house ghosts. But he also
knew there were some Ravenclaws who didn't like her, or thought she was crazy.
Mandy frowned. "Luna, what are you doing here. This is a private party, if you don't mind," she
said in a firm tone.
Luna simply nodded. "I came with Colin, but he wanted to run around taking pictures and such.
He's so weird," she said in a distracted voice.
Suddenly, Amy turned to Mandy. "I told her to drop by," she said in a tone that brooked no
argument. "She probably knows more charms than the lot of you."
Harry peered down at the Ravenclaw fourth year. "You know charms and defensive spells?"
Luna gave a half shrug, then bobbed her head up and down several times. She slowly pulled her
wand out of the loose bun in her hair and pointed it at the table.
"Saltare," she murmured. Suddenly the salt and pepper shakers seemed to rise up off the table a tilt
toward each other as if to bow. Then they began pirouetting and circling each other as if in a stately
minuet.
"Finite incantatum," Mandy cried. "Luna, you know Madam Rosmerta doesn't allow students to do
magic in the bar. You want us all to get thrown out?" she said in exasperation.
Luna seemed nonplussed.
Kevin chuckled and the rest of the table smiled, but Mandy seemed to grow more annoyed, glaring
at the group. "I don't think having her here is a good idea," she said. "You never know what she'll
do. Like on Halloween. She had jack-o-lanterns chasing us all over the common room."
Amy chuckled and Luna let out a loud laugh. "They weren't chasing you, silly," Luna cried, gasping
for breath. "I just set them to drift around the room to get into the spirit for the feast."
Mandy glared at Luna. "Well, I for one, did not appreciate it when I'm busy reading a potions text to
look up and see a pumpkin hovering six inches from my face."
At this point, both Luna and Amy burst into laughter and Kevin struggled to keep from chuckling at
his girlfriend's distress.
Mandy's annoyance was building. "And what about your late-night jaunts into the common room
after curfew? Here Professor Flitwick has one of us or another up half the night to stand watch in
the common room for possible disturbances or danger, and next thing you know Luna is wandering
up behind me to scare the life out of me."
Luna simply shrugged. "I wasn't trying to scare you," she said softly. "It's just that I had an idea and
wanted to check it out in our house library."
Mandy glared at Luna. "At three in the morning?"
Luna simply gave her a small smile. "My daddy says that most people spend half their lives waiting
for inspiration to strike, and the other half trying to find excuses to ignore inspiration when it does
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strike."
Harry cleared his throat. "Luna, do you know why we are here?"
Again, Luna bobbed her head up and down several times. "To teach the younger kids to defend
themselves.
"And you think you can help?" Harry asked.
Again Luna nodded, but Amy cut in. "Of course she can help. She knows more than the rest of us
and the young ones love her."
Then the discussion started. Mandy started asking about the propriety of students teaching students
and got into a long discussion with Hermione, which gave Parvati a chance to snuggle against a
relaxed Harry. She felt a sense of surprise and a little pride that the normally reserved Harry was
leading the discussion, comfortably asking probing questions and offering suggestions as if he were
talking Quidditch in the Gryffindor common room. But then, these weren't really strangers, for the
most part. Hannah, Ernie, Mandy and Hermione were all prefects. Ron, Ernie and Kevin were on
their respective Quidditch teams, and Morag and Amy were reserves on the Ravenclaw team. They
all had so much in common.
But soon, the discussion turned to what the group would cover. Suddenly, the talked turned
technical, with names of hexes and jinxes flying back and forth, things like leg lockers and knee
bucklers, stingers and needles, ticklers and funny-bone activators.
Parvati tried to follow the discussion, but she knew she was out of her depth in Dark Arts Defense
and Charms issues. Mostly, the discussion was led by Harry, Hermione and Kevin, with Ron, Ernie
and Morag throwing in a comment or suggestion and the four-year, Amy Hattan, frowning or
looking thoughtful by turns, and occasionally playing devil's advocate. Luna, for her part, mostly
sat and listened, occasionally smiling absently or frowning in concentration. When she did speak
up, everyone at the table seem to pause and look at her in surprise and, more often than not, nod or
murmur 'I hadn't thought of that.' The discussion was as intense as a Quidditch debate. The only
light moment came when Luna suddenly piped up about the use of a lemon squeezer hex, to the
laughter and blushing of several of the girls when all the boys suddenly seemed to pale a little and
cross their legs.
Parvati looked down at what was, in effect, the end of the table. She saw Mandy taking in the
discussion but Hannah looking as perplexed as Parvati felt. All of a sudden it hit Parvati. She had
felt happy to be the center of attention with Harry. But she wasn't really part of the spotlight when
the real work was being done. Hermione, Morag, Luna and Amy were very much in the center of
the discussion. But Parvati suddenly understood that, like Hannah and, to an extent Mandy, she was
here more as a consort than as a player. And she began to get annoyed.
Why hadn't she paid more attention in DADA, Charms and Transfiguration? Why hadn't she talked
more about this whole teaching project? And why wasn't Harry paying more attention to her to
include her in the discussion. Parvati casually dropped her hand under the table and gave Harry's
knee a caress. He had been listening to Ron and Kevin trade comments about which first year
students were most likely to abuse any newly learned knowledge. Harry turned to her and smiled at
her touch, leaning over to give her a quick peck on the cheek and the turned back to listen to Ernie
talk about Hufflepuff first year-games.
Then Ron raised his mug of butterbeer to his lips, finishing it off. "Who's for another," he
announced. Several students around the table nodded or raised their mugs. Parvati frowned and
looked at Harry, who was scratching out notes on a parchment with what looked like a Muggle
pencil.
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With the break in the discussion, Ernie leaned back in his chair. "Hey, I heard a nasty rumor that
somebody broke the block this year," he said with a smile. "You wouldn't know anything about that,
would you, Harry?"
Harry frowned. "No," he said flatly.
Amy perked up. "What's that? Some Quidditch thing?"
Luna grabbed her friends arm. "It's some sort of test the fifth years take. I don't know what it is, but
the goal is to break a block or something," she said.
The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked at Harry expectantly, but he merely scowled and finished
the last of his butterbeer.
Parvati leaned over to him. "Did you, Harry?"
He just continued to scowl. "It didn't count for anything," he muttered.
Parvati leaned back and held her tongue.
At that point, Mandy leaned over to face Ron and Hermione down the table. "So, you two a
couple?"
Hermione started and looked back wide-eyed. "No," she answered quickly.
Ron simply shrugged and gave Mandy an inscrutable smile.
Parvati caught the exchange and gave a small smile of her own. 'That might be an interesting idea,'
she thought. But those thoughts were disturbed when suddenly, Hannah caught Parvati's eye.
Parvati gave her a questioning frown, but Hannah motioned with her eyes toward the bar up front.
Again Parvati frowned but, after another pleading look from Hannah, Parvati shook her head
uncertainly.
After one more pleading look, Hannah spoke up. "Parvati and I can get the butterbeers."
Parvati's face clouded in anger. 'So now I'm a serving wench?' she thought furiously. But Hannah's
face continued to look anxious, almost desperate. Parvati signed and got up, her expression frosty,
and headed to the bar.
As Parvati drew up next to Hannah, the Hufflepuff girl turned with an anxious look. "I'm sorry," she
whispered. "I guess you wanted to stay by Harry, but I really hoped I could talk to you for a minute
or two."
Parvati raised a skeptical eyebrow, but her expression softened when she saw how troubled
Hannah's face looked. "About what," she asked as the two girls took up position behind a group of
Ravenclaws clamoring for more butterbeer at the bar.
Hannah looked down, uncertainly. "About boys," she muttered.
Parvati angled her head down to catch Hannah's eye. "What about boys?"
Hannah sighed. "Well, Ernie's been acting strange and I don't know what to make of it."
Parvati looked at Hannah again, puzzled. "And? I barely know Ernie. I mean, we've talked, but I
only see him when he's with you."
By this time, the crowd near the bar had made some room. Parvati looked up at Helga, one of the
bar maids and signaled. "Eight butterbeers," she called out over the din.
Hannah waited until Parvati turned back. "I don't know. I tried to talk to Susan and some of the girls
in the dorm, but they don't know much about boys. I mean, Susan has been going out with Wayne,
but he's her first boyfriend. Same with Pamela and Mike Corner. They fight all the time, but I guess
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that's the way the work things out. So they don't know what to tell me. And Ernie's the only boy I
ever dated."
Parvati still felt at a loss. "So why me?"
Hannah looked up uncertainly as the two girls collected the butterbeers. Hannah was blushing now.
"Well, you've had lots of boyfriends...so you know more about things than we do..."
Parvati blinked, suddenly furious. "What are you saying?" she snapped. "That I can't hold onto a
man?" If she hadn't been carrying two mugs of butterbeer in each hand she would have had it out
with Hannah right there.
Hannah blanched. "Noooo," she cried, looking appalled and close to tears. "I didn't
mean...please...I'm sorry. I mean...well...you're more sophisticated."
At this point, Hannah was in such a panic and so close to tears that Parvati simply rolled her eyes
and swallowed her anger. She had known Hannah since before Hogwarts and knew she was as mild
a person as could be imagined. It was no mistake why Hannah was in Hufflepuff. "Set the glasses
down and let's talk," Parvati ordered.
Hannah was blinking to avoid tears and gave a quick nod.
Parvati gave a quick notion with her head toward to last table in the back. It was wedged up next to
the door to the kitchen, one of the few really secluded spots in the bar. It might be a favorite of
lovers except that Shem, the Three Broomsticks' part-time cook, would constantly bustle
awkwardly back and forth in the tight corner, often jostling people at that corner table, as he
delivered orders up to the bar.
Hannah took a seat, holding her butterbeer. Parvati sat opposite in a chair where she could watch
Harry and part of the rest of the table where she had been sitting only moments before. She turned
to Hannah. "So talk."
Hannah took a deep breath. "Well...Ernie has been acting...strangely. Like he didn't want to come
tonight, saying he had some studying to do, but saying I should go. And he keeps disappearing into
the library and such. It's like he's never around."
Parvati shrugged uncertainly. "So?"
Hannah looking down at her butterbeer. "He used to always be around. Now, it's like he's never
around."
Parvati nodded. "Still fooling around?"
Hannah blushed. "Well, yeah. We like to find time alone. But our favorite time was Sunday nights
and now we have Sunday prefect patrols so we can't."
Parvati nodded, then leaned forward. "You slept with him yet?' she whispered.
Hannah blushed furiously and looked down. "No."
Parvati simply nodded.
Hannah looked up in renewed panic. "Do I...have to?" she whimpered.
Parvati leaned close. "No. No! If you have to sleep with a guy to keep him, he isn't worth keeping.
If he figures he can make you sleep with him to keep him, he'll figure he can make you do anything.
You won't be his girlfriend anymore. You'll be his slave," she whispered urgently.
Hannah's eyes began to cloud. "I can't...I...I'm not ready for that."
Parvati reached across the table and took Hannah's hands, squeezing them in sympathy. "Maybe he
is just studying," she whispered. "I hope so. But if he isn't, better you should know now, before
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you...well. I don't know. Talk to Susan. She'll be there for you, if I know her."
Hannah nodded morosely. "We'll see. I really...well, I used to think...him and I," she said with a
sigh. "Maybe..." She simply hung her head.
Parvati gave Hannah's hands another squeeze. "Talk to him. Maybe things will turn out all right.
Now let's get back."
Hannah breathed a ragged sigh. "I think I'm going back to Hogwarts," she said quietly. "Maybe
Susan and Wayne...or Megan and Karen are around. Pamela and Mike are in good moods, so I
guess I won't bother them," she said with a sad chuckle. "Tell Ernie..."
***
Parvati slid in next to Harry, who turned with a smile and gave her a bump. But Parvati merely
frowned and leaned up against him, surveying the table, her eyes passing over Ernie. He seemed
relaxed and was smiling at something Ron said. Then she noticed Hermione grab Harry's arm and
lean over to whisper something. Something about fourth and fifth years. She shook her head
crossly.
Suddenly, Ron hissed. "Slytherins," he whispered, and the table quieted.
"What the hell is this," Jack Bletchley drawled with a small smile. "A prefects meeting or a
Quidditch meeting? Why wasn't I invited?"
Ron was about to make a nasty comment, but Harry leaned forward with a smile. "Quidditch? I
didn't know you knew anything about Quidditch," he said with a broad smile at the long-time
Slytherin keeper.
Bletchley let out a laugh along with the rest of the table. "Just you wait, Potter. We play you in
March, and you'll see how much we know about Quidditch. So don't count on getting your first win
of the season against us."
Harry returned the laugh. "Sure, Jack. How about our third win," raising some good-natured
objections from the Ernie and the Ravenclaws at the table.
Bletchley turned to return to the rest of the seventh year Slytherins when Harry called out to him.
"Hey, Jack. Remember, the red b
all is the quaffle. That's the one you should try to stop...but you can stop as many bludgers as you
want," he said with a smile.
Bletchley gave him a good natured scowl and left.
Ron was looking annoyed but the rest of the table was smiling.
But Parvati frowned in thought. "What about the Slytherins?" she asked quietly.
"No way," Ron exclaimed.
Suddenly, everyone at the table turned to her. "Listen," she said in a quiet voice. "When word gets
out about these lessons we're teaching, and it will, somebody's going to ask why there's no
Slytherins. And if I know Snape, he'll raise hell and they'll probably force us to stop."
Kevin frowned. "Well, then we teach them in our own houses," he said in an equally quiet voice.
Harry made a face. "Maybe not. Maybe we can find someone who can get a couple trustworthy
Slytherin kids in."
Ron practically jumped out of his seat. "No! No way I'm going to help a bunch of Death Eaters how
to kill us," he cried.
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Hermione rolled her eyes. "They aren't all Death Eaters, you know," she said in exasperation.
Harry frowned. "But can we trust anyone from Slytherin to recruit some of them?"
Parvati looked up across the table and saw Hannah gathering up her cloak to leave. "Hannah? What
about Blaise?"
Hannah looked up in surprise. "Blaise?"
Parvati nodded. "Why not? You know her. I know her. We've talked. She's just like us."
Ron blinked. "The Ice Queen talks?"
Hermione gave him an elbow. "Of course she talks."
Ron snorted. "Yeah, maybe to her sister...and that Greinglass girl."
Parvati looked sharply at Ron but bit her tongue. She then turned back to Hannah. "We've known
her since we were kids. She's okay."
Hannah nodded. "Well, our families all know each other and they are definitely not Death Eaters."
Parvati chuckled. "Yes. They're into fine eating, not death eating."
Harry turned to Parvati, puzzled.
She looked at Harry. "Her family owns Z's in Diagon Alley, Z's Trattoria in Portsmouth, Zabini's up
in Kent somewhere, and couple of restaurants up here in the north."
Ron scowled. "The prices they charge..." he muttered.
Hannah nodded. "She's okay."
Parvati nodded. "I can talk to her."
The group looked at Parvati with new interest. "Okay," Ernie said.
"Sure," Hermione echoed with a vigorous nod.
Harry gave a more thoughtful nod. "I suppose I can talk to Millie Bulstrode, as well."
Suddenly, several people around the table cleared their throats.
Harry looked around with a puzzled expression. "What?"
Mandy Brocklehurst looked up. "There were several Bulstrodes who were Death Eaters years ago.
Not her father, I don't think. But her grandfather and at least one of her uncles. I wouldn't say
anything to her."
Harry started. He looked down in surprise and consternation. "She seems okay," he muttered.
Parvati leaned over. "Maybe she is. But we'd rather you didn't take the chance, okay?"
Harry gave a small nod.
Slowly, the group broke up, as Harry, Ron and Kevin wanted to get back early because of the match
tomorrow. And Parvati was no longer in the mood to party. Neither was Hannah, who left as well.
Without Ernie.
It was a quiet ride back to Hogwarts. Harry simply pondered the meeting and plans for teaching the
younger students. But in the back of his mind, he brooded about Ernie bringing up the Stonecutter
test. Sure he was a block breaker. That's how it would be recorded. But he knew in his heart that he
had cheated. He recalled his conversation with Professor Dumbledore about the Earth Drawer. No,
he wasn't a block breaker. He was a cheat. He lowered his head and frowned.
Hermione was mulling over the meeting, but this time, she was uncharacteristically silent. She was
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also a little annoyed that everyone seemed to assume she and Ron were a couple. Ron was her
friend. That's all, she thought.
Ron was also silent, as he stole speculative glances at Hermione.
Hannah decided to share the coach with the two couples but simply leaned her head against the
glass of the carriage, staring blankly out into the night. It was as dark as her feelings about her
future with Ernie.
Parvati, on the other hand, was frowning, deep in thought. She knew that Ernie must be seeing
someone else. And her heart went out to her friend.
She was angry at Ernie. Parvati had known Hannah since they attended the exclusive Little Wizards
and Witches school. As daughters of merchants, they hadn't opted for normal wizarding primary
schools and, unlike some of the wizarding gentry, hadn't gone the private tutoring route. Parvati still
remembered the pretty pink-faced girl in the blond pigtails who always used to have an armful of
flowers, accompanied more often than not by dirty hands from digging in meadows surrounding the
school in search of her precious blossoms.
And now this precious, naive young girl was about to face her first real romantic heartbreak. Parvati
stole a glance at Hannah, who had turned out to be a beautiful young woman, but one who retained
the innocence of her childhood. And again her anger flared at Ernie.
Then she turned to Harry. He was so sweet. Could he ever do that? 'No,' she thought. He was a
decent boy...man. But did that mean they would always be together? She had seen the looks other
girls had given him. She saw how possessive Hermione could be about his company even after all
that had happened. Could he be tempted away? And what would Parvati do to keep him?
Parvati sighed and leaned up against Harry and joined Hannah in staring out of the window into the
darkness beyond.
***
"Exciting match, eh?"
Harry glanced up from his search for the snitch to see Mike Gillespie hovering next to him. "Oh,
shut up," he said with a smile.
It actually wasn't all that exciting of a match so far. It had been for the first half hour or so. The
Hufflepuff Quidditch team's plays were not elaborate, but their chasers were good fliers and their
moves well-coordinated. And this was the first match for the Gryffindor keeper, Cecil Huddleston,
and it had taken him at least a half hour to get over his nerves and find his stride. In that time, he
had yielded nine goals, giving the hysterically cheering Hufflepuffs a 90-80 lead.
But the speed and stamina of the Gryffindor team began to pay off just as Huddleston started to lift
his play to Hogwarts standards. The elegant Hufflepuff charges began to loose some of their
flourish as their chasers began to tire.
The Gryffindors, on the other hand, relied more on speed and agility and a certain measure of freelance initiative in their charges. So, if a chaser tired, she could hold back for a charge to catch her
breath and let the other two take the play.
Harry chuckled. Oliver Wood would have a fit that Angelina, as center chaser, wasn't calling one
elaborate formation after another for each charge. It was a product of Angelina's hectic schedule as
Head Girl that she encouraged free-lancing among the experienced chaser line, rather than spending
inordinate amounts of time planning and then drilling them endlessly on set plays. And, of course,
she had little choice over set plays with Fred and George. As beaters, their positions didn't lend
themselves to set plays. Neither did their personalities. She drew the line, however, when Fred and
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George started vying for which beater could score the most 'goals' with bludgers in practice
matches.
Which left the status of the match weighing heavily in Gryffindor's favor. After nearly three hours,
the score now stood at 290-160. Harry paused and unobtrusively removed his left-hand glove to rub
his eyes. He was developing a headache from his endless search for the elusive snitch.
"Hey, Mike," he said with a grin. "You sure you didn't catch the damn thing and decide not to
mention it to anyone?"
Gillespie laughed. "Sure," he replied. "Got it right here."
Harry chuckled. He liked Mike Gillespie. The sixth-year Hufflepuff had been a chaser during
Harry's third year and had developed into a very good flyer. Unlike Malfoy, he didn't shadow Harry
like some vulture, tailing and watching the rival seeker, relying on rough play and the speed of his
broom when the snitch was spotted. And he didn't have the desperate flying style of Cho Chang as
she rode racetrack or figure-eight patterns at top speed in a frantic search for the snitch.
Instead, Gillespie would swoop and swerve all over the pitch in seemingly random patterns, as if he
were merely out enjoying himself on the broom instead of being locked in a hard-fought match.
And he would occasionally fly up to Harry to chat amiably, all the while watching for any move in
case Harry spotted the golden orb.
Harry was disconcerted at first. He had never chatted with anyone during a match, although he
enjoyed talking with, teasing and chasing and being chased by Ginny during practices. But Harry
shook his head. Gillespie's personality and demeanor could also be a tactic, distracting him from his
search.
Harry nodded to Gillespie and the rival seekers began their separate searches again.
Harry watched below as Lee Jordan made another hysterical call of a Gryffindor goal, this time my
Alicia Spinnet, who was playing the match of her life, with 14 goals. It was now 300-160.
Harry sighed as he began his search again. It was the absolutely worst conditions for a seeker. The
sky was heavily overcast and there very little wind. The darkness made the snitch difficult to see.
And the lack of wind meant that the snitch could hover unseen in one place for extended periods of
time without being blown around in erratic patterns in the sky. And there was no rain, which at least
would have made it glisten in what little light was available.
The length of the match was having its effect on Harry. Outside of the headache he was beginning
to feel from eyestrain, he was getting bored. He tried to break it up by trying some aerobatics while
searching. But that had gotten old after the first hour. So he tried buzzing the stands a few times just
for fun.
And, in allowing his mind to wander. he noticed something odd. Draco Malfoy was not in the
stands. It took him a while until he saw a strange figure by the lake. There was Malfoy, seeming to
be digging up the mud by the lake and carrying it off toward the Forbidden Forest. Harry shook his
head. 'Malfoy has truly gone mental, now,' he thought to himself, and returned his attention to the
match.
It was 20 minutes later, well into the fourth hour of the match that Harry finally spotted the snitch.
Dodging a misaimed bludger, he swooped in to make the snatch near the base of the goal
Huddleston was now more than adequately defending. The Gryffindors in the crowd cheered
loudly, almost in relief that it was finally over. The Hufflepuffs sighed in disappointment. The
Ravenclaws and Slytherins remaining in the crowd made little noise and simply rose to leave.
Harry's snatch didn't win the match. It merely ended it. The final score: 510-170, the highest score
for a Hogwarts Quidditch match in 23 years and the largest margin of victory in 28 years.
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***
Fred and George were sprawled on their stomachs in exhaustion on the table in the boys' section of
the Gryffindor locker room. Ron and Theo Kastelides, the substitute keeper, were doing their best
to massage the twins' aching shoulders. Cecil Huddleston was simply stretched out on the floor.
Harry had the presence of mind to at least throw down a towel as Huddleston seemed to collapse in
a heap. Severino Velazquez, Steve Shaunessy and Mike Burwasher, the other male substitutes on
the team, simply sat around in amazement at the toll the match had taken on the team.
Harry stretched out on his back on a bench in front of his locker. He managed, at least, to have a
towel wrapped around his middle after his hot shower. He had his arm flung over his eyes as he felt
the headache with full force now.
"Anyone need a massage?" Ginny shouted from around the corner with a laugh.
"Sure, Gin," Velazquez shouted back. "You can massage me anytime."
"Shut up, Snape," Ron snarled. "That's my sister."
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mister Weasley," Velazquez responded in a Spanish accented version
of Snape's drawl.
The group chuckled.
Ginny poked her head around the lockers. "Girls on deck," she called
Madam Hooch knocked on the corner of the row of lockers. "Everybody decent?"
There was a couple murmurs, and Hooch walked into the boys' area. She eyed Fred and George.
"You two. You want to at least make the effort to cover your skinny behinds?"
Ron and Theo tossed towels across the twins bare bottoms. Fred and George didn't react.
"Well, at least I should be thankful you two decided not to be gentlemen and demonstrate your
shortcomings by standing when a lady entered the room," Hooch said with a chuckle.
George managed to grunt. The noise coming from Fred sounded more like a snore.
"Okay, any injuries?" Hooch said in a less playful tone.
"I think my entire body's broken," Huddleston muttered.
Hooch sat down on a bench over the exhausted keeper. "That was a heck of a match you played out
there, Cecil," she said quietly. "Tell me, just tired, or are you sore?"
The third year sighed. "My back is sore. My arms, too."
Hooch waved her wand the length of Huddleston's body. He felt a sudden warmth infuse his
muscles and they seemed to relax.
"That will hold you for a while," Hooch said. "You'll be sore tomorrow, but not as sore as you
would be." She turned to the twins. "You two?"
George simply nodded. Fred didn't react.
Hooch performed the same muscle relaxing spell on Fred and George. Slowly, the twins rose to a
sitting position and began to reach for their clothes.
Hooch now turned to Harry. "You okay?"
Harry took a deep breath. "Shoulders mostly. And I've got a splitting headache."
Hooch nodded and did the muscle relaxing spell on Harry. Then she touched her wand to the side of
her robe to reveal a pocket. She reached in a removed a vial and a shot glass. "Harry, here's a potion
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that will help your headache. It will make you sleepy, so it would be best for someone to walk you
back to the Gryffindor tower. It's best that you sleep a couple hours for it to work best. Sorry if you
miss the party."
Harry nodded as he removed his arm from his face. His eyes were half shut and looked bloodshot.
"I never got a headache after a game before," he said as he reached for the potion.
Hooch snorted. "Your matches never lasted this long."
"Is that unusual? A headache?"
Hooch smiled softly. "Harry, who are the best seekers in the world?
Harry shrugged as he swallowed the potion, making a face. "I don't know. Viktor Krum of the
Bulgarian National Team, Desmond Walpole of the Tutshill Tornados, Aiden Lynch from the Irish
Team, Glynnis Gryffiths from the Holyhead Harpies, maybe Kaz Katzmarek of the Midwitch
Cuckoos."
Hooch nodded. "And, excepting Krum, what do they all have in common?"
Harry looked at her, bleary-eyed. "I don't know. They all fly Firebolts?"
Hooch snorted. "Lynch flies a custom modified Nimbus 2K. You know that."
Harry nodded.
Hooch watched Harry. "You never noticed?"
Harry shrugged.
Hooch shook her head. "They all wear glasses. And I'll bet Krum wears charmed contact lenses."
Harry widened his eyes. "Really? That's right, they do."
Hooch nodded. "Harry, there's a theory that the best seekers are able to use their eyes and glasses
magically to give them a clarity of vision that those without glasses don't enjoy. You know your
Quidditch history, don't you."
Harry nodded.
"Didn't you ever hear of the Shackleton controversy?"
Harry frowned. "Yeah. It was over a hundred years ago. They wanted to ban him."
Hooch nodded. "You know why?"
Harry frowned. "They said he was cheating, using unauthorized equipment."
"And that equipment was?"
Harry blinked. "Seeing devices?"
Hooch smiled. "Harry, he wore glasses. He was one of the first Quidditch players to wear glasses,
and he turned out to be a prodigy. And everyone assumed it was because it was his glasses. But he
showed that he had been nearsighted since he was a child. So the controversy ended. But every
couple decades, the issue comes up again--about banning seekers who wear glasses. The problem is
that most of the best do wear them, so the pressure against such a move is usually overwhelming."
Harry had now put his glasses back on a stared at her. "Like me?"
Hooch nodded. "That's why you've got to expect headaches after long games. No one knows for
sure how it works, whether it's magical or simply control of your eye muscles, but you are able to
use your eyes unlike people who don't wear glasses. It may be something you developed when you
were young, before your wore glasses, trying to focus on things that seemed blurred, that gave you
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the muscle control, the ability to use your glasses in this way."
Harry sighed. "Isn't that like cheating?"
Hooch shook her head. "No, Harry. Very few can do what you or the other top seekers can do. So
don't you worry about it."
Harry nodded. 'Just another way I've been cheating,' he thought. Feeling as very tired as he did, he
forgot about the strange sight of Draco Malfoy hauling mud into the forbidden forest.
***
Sirius checked his reflection in the plate glass of the storefront. The walk from The Leakey
Cauldron into Muggle London was not far. Only five or six blocks. He was not a stranger to
Muggle London, but neither did he think himself a native. And he wasn't fully used to Muggle
clothing, at least of this sort. He checked and smiled at the fact that he had gotten his tie knotted
evenly. He chuckled to himself. He hadn't worn a tie since his Hogwarts days a half a lifetime ago.
He turned the corner and spied the old painted wooden sign swinging gently in the evening breeze.
'The Glorious First of June' looked as if it had been around these two hundred years since Admiral
Howe defeated the French at Ushant. He shook his head and took the three stone steps to the
entrance of the restaurant, wondering why Shane wanted to meet here.
As the maitre d' led him to the table, he looked around. Of course. Nautical setting. And he noticed
the smell of seafood and the enticing dishes that had already been served to other customers. But he
didn't see Shane. He frowned. He was on time, for once, as Shane had insisted. So where was his
host.
Suddenly, the Maitre d' stopped and indicated his seat. Sirius blinked as a woman with long dark
hair turned around and smiled. Not Shane. It was the sister. 'What was her name?'
"I hope you remember me," she said quietly. "I'm Lakshmi, Shanmukha's sister."
As Sirius settled in, he looked at her closely. She was attractive. Not as pretty as her two younger
sisters. And she didn't have the willowy figure Parvati and Padma had apparently inherited from
their tall but small-boned father. She had a fuller, more curvy figure which Sirius couldn't help but
admire. But she was wearing a rather severely tailored blue business suit with a white frilly blouse
and a blue and yellow patterned scarf.
Sirius turned on his most charming smile. "Is Shane coming? Or are we being set up?" he said with
a wolfish grin.
Lakshmi gave him a small smile. "Well, not exactly set up. I asked that Shane give me about a half
hour before he shows up. And I am sure Shane believes he is helping to set us up."
Sirius's smile faded a notch and he looked at her expectantly. "So?"
Lakshmi fiddled with the napkin in her lap and then looked up at Sirius again. "You are quite the
handsome man, you know, now that you are cleaned up and a little better fed."
Sirius once again turned on his best lady-killer smile.
Lakshmi returned his smile with a tentative one of her own. "My brother is quite a handsome man,
as well, don't you think?"
Sirius blinked. "Uh, I guess," he said uncertainly.
Lakshmi gave a slow nod. "And the two of you have been working together recently."
Sirius glanced away, his confusion growing. 'Where was she leading to?' he thought.
She nodded again. "In bars and such. Knockturn Alley. K-land up in Kent. Rusty Bucket down
147
around Portsmouth."
Sirius shrugged. He wasn't about to tell her he and Shane had been scouting the underworld trying
to pick up the trail of Lucius Malfoy and other Death Eaters at the request of a couple members of
the Order of the Phoenix.
Lakshmi gave him another small smile. "How much do you know about Shane?"
Sirius looked at her in confusion. "He's an Auror. And he's a lot better at it than I thought he was at
first. He's married. He's your brother. What else?"
Lakshmi's smiled faded. "His marriage?"
Sirius shrugged. "His wife's name is Janine. He's got a young son and daughter and their expecting
another one in March."
Lakshmi nodded. "Shane is my favorite brother," she said softly. "But he has a terrible weakness for
the ladies. And witches seem to return this feeling. You know Janine threw him out of the house for
several months about a year ago?"
Sirius blinked. "I...didn't know that."
Lakshmi nodded. "And that she'll do it again if he starts fooling around again?"
Now Sirius's eyes fluttered. "What?"
Lakshmi leaned forward. "Janine Winslow was my best friend at Hogwarts. She is the nicest person
I've ever known. I introduced her to Shane. They clicked and got married a year after she graduated.
But he's hurt her a few times, running around."
Sirius began to flush. 'What does that have to do with me?'
Lakshmi grabbed his forearm. "When she threatened to take his children away from him, I think he
may have learned a lesson."
Sirius stared at her.
"And I won't have you helping him unlearn that lesson. Do you understand me?"
"Me?" Sirius gasped.
Lakshmi looked him directly in his eyes. "I don't want to hear you leading him, or encouraging him,
to go chasing witches. Do you understand?" she hissed.
Sirius's jaw dropped. "I...I..."
Lakshmi lowered her head without breaking eye contact. "Like I said. You are an attractive man.
You can chase women all you want. Just don't bring my brother along when you do."
Sirius simply stared at her and shifted uncomfortably. 'What was it about these Patil women that
they seemed to have it in for me?' he thought warily.
***
"So you think this Fletcher character is trustworthy?' Shane asked over an after-dinner glass of
Ravensblood wine.
Sirius snorted absently. "Of course not. That's why I think his information is good. He would sell
out anyone. But there's no profit in selling us out. But plenty in selling out Lucius on the gold."
Shane simply nodded, then glanced over at his friend, who looked preoccupied. A quick smile
spread over the Auror's face. "I think my sister likes you."
Sirius looked up quickly. "Oh, I don't know about that."
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Shane smirked. "Then why did she insist on meeting you here tonight?"
Sirius shrugged
Shane nodded. He knew Lakshmi was lonely and not getting any younger. One too many bad
relationships had left her wary of wizards. And he knew Sirius, for all his swagger and charm, was
finding it equally difficult to find a decent woman. He had seen Sirius use his charms on the women
of the nether world where they were operating, but he also knew that nothing had come of it
because Sirius was too wary of close contact yet. But maybe, just maybe...
***
Draco brooded as he entered the Forbidden Forest. He had always been terrified of the Forest,
expecting a werewolf or worse to jump out and grab him. But he had recently ignored that fear.
What did it matter anymore, anyway?
And he brooded about Potter. He hated the Boy Who Lived with a passion. 'The Boy Who Had
Everything was more like it,' he thought angrily.
All of a sudden, Potter was everyone's darling. Now that the wizarding world knew he had been
telling the truth all along about Voldemort, everyone was fawning all over him.
And he was shagging one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts. Draco shook his head. He had heard
Potter's denials and saw that stupid piece in Witch Weekly portraying him and that Patil girl as a
couple of innocents. 'Innocents my arse,' Draco thought.
And he had heard the stories about Harry moving away from his family. Draco had done his best to
find out about where Potter lived during the summers, but couldn't find out anything. Even Potter's
fellow Gryffindors didn't know where he lived, except maybe the Weasels and that Mudblood, and
they weren't saying.
All Draco could find out was that Potter lived with some distant relatives, possibly Muggles. There
was a rumor at one point that they lived in Australia, but he and his father discounted this. There
was no indication that there were any wizarding Potters down under. But you never know. He
snorted.
Not that it mattered, now he wasn't with them anymore. 'The Boy Who Lived' had tossed away a
family who probably loved him. Probably because, as Muggles, they hadn't been sufficiently in awe
of the Boy Wonder, Draco thought bitterly. So he was probably back in the wizarding world with
some family who fawned over him like he was some sort of royalty.
Draco hung his head. Potter had walked away from a family who loved him, he thought. 'What I
wouldn't give for a family who loved me,' he thought through bitter tears. Not some raggedy Aunt
who lived in a cramped six-room flat in Diagon Alley, but a real Malfoy family. But family wasn't
good enough for our boy Potter. 'Well, the Boy Who Has Everything will soon get his,' Draco
thought as he approached the spot.
Draco quietly cast a spell and the small hillock disappeared and the clay and mud figure in the
shape of a man appeared. He scratched his chin. 'Was it too small?' he thought. He lay down in the
grass beside the figure and determined it would be a little taller than he was, but much thicker. He
nodded. Not as big as Crabbe. More Goyle's size. He carefully unwrapped the package he had
carried under his arm. 'Now is the time,' he thought.
Draco walked clockwise seven times around the body, reciting the incantation. The clay turned
bright red, like fire. He then walked another seven times around the body, this time
counterclockwise, chanting another incantation. The redness disappeared and a thin veneer of skin
appeared and the clay body grew hair and nails. It slowly took on the features of a man.
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Draco then knelt down and placed a piece of parchment with his name on it in the creature's mouth
and bowed to the four points of the compass. The creature opened his eyes and rose slowly to its
feet, looking blankly at his creator. Draco draped Goyle's robes over it and began to explain its
mission, holding up a wizarding picture from last week's Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match to identify
the target.
***
It was getting late, but Wayne Hopkins didn't care. Suppertime was the best time to book the beater
cage.
He took and deep breath and closed his eyes, shuddering a little. His life had turned into a
nightmare, full of guilt and fear. The only time he felt comfortable was in the beater cage or when
Susan Bones was holding him.
He shook his head in wonder. Susan wasn't tall and she was small-boned, almost frail. And him?
Well, maybe Dean Thomas, the fifth-year Gryffindor, and that sixth-year guy from Slytherin whose
name he could never remember were taller than he was. But Wayne knew he was big. And strong.
Maybe the biggest and physically strongest student at Hogwarts. He had chuckled that he was the
only student that could intimidate Vincent Crabbe before Crabbe left school. Years on the family
farm where he had to work in the fields without the benefit of magic had built him up to the point
where he could be an American footballer or champion wrestler.
Yet only the mercurial Susan could comfort him. Only she could make him quake in fear if she took
a mind to it. And, for the past month, she had been his strength.
He entered the beater cage and cast a quick illuminatus charm. He found the practice broom that
hung on a charm from the ceiling. He chuckled. It was an old, battered Clean Sweep Four-B. Still
serviceable, but not even good enough for first-year flying lessons.
He grabbed the spent bludger from the bottom of the spherical room and muttered the charm
Madam Hooch had taught them all. He set the broom to hover and mounted it and waited as he
slowly rose to the center of the small sphere. Then he let the bludger go and watched it as it headed
for the irregular surface of the wall. Grabbing his beater bat he saw the bludger bounce at an odd
angle and come back to him. He gave it a swat and it shot out to hit the wall just inches from where
he was aiming it.
Wayne enjoyed the release of the beater cage. He wasn't a bad beater and played a decent match
against the Gryffindors last Saturday. But he realized how he had been worn down by the sheer
length of the match. At one point, Potter almost knocked him off his broom during a mid-air
bumping episode late in the match. Wayne shook his head. 'And I must outweigh him by 60
pounds,' he thought with embarrassment. And he knew he couldn't compete against the likes of the
Weasley twins in terms of stamina, not unless he built it up here in the cage. He continued to slam
the bludger time after time against the walls of the cage.
Wayne Hopkins was sweating and considering increasing the bludger's speed a little when he heard
a snap and the door of the cage was yanked open. "Watch it!" Hopkins called. "Active bludger."
But the figure in the doorway didn't react. Wayne turned his attention to the figure. He didn't
recognize the wizard. He was of average height but very broad. And he had flat, nondescript
features and a mop of unruly red brown hair that stuck out in irregular directions that would have
resembled Potter's hair except for the color.
"Come on! Cage in use. Or didn't you notice."
The figure peered at Wayne's face carefully. Suddenly, it stepped down onto the curved pit floor of
the cage and reached up to tip Wayne off his broom.
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"What the hell?" Wayne managed to sputter before he felt a heavy blow to his midsection, knocking
him off his feet. The figure reached down and grabbed Wayne's robe an hauled him to his feet as it
swung again. Wayne had the presence of mind to twist and felt the hammer-like blow glance of his
shoulder.
Hopkins now was in a panic. This guy was immensely strong and seemed to be looking to do
serious injury. Wayne feinted and swung a solid blow at his attacker. The punch hit the attacker
squarely in the jaw. It was just like when Wayne had hit that bastard Malfoy that night behind the
greenhouses after Malfoy had tried to curse him. Wayne had come across Malfoy skulking around
the greenhouses and confronted the little prick about what he had said about Susan. But unlike
Malfoy, in this case there was no satisfying crack of bone or sharp pain in his hand from the blow.
Instead, Hopkins' fist seemed to sink into the attacker's face a little, like he was punching a thick
leather bag.
Hopkins staggered back against the curved surface of the cage in amazement as the attacker stopped
for a moment and a seeming dent in its face seemed to rebound back to normal. The attacker then
resumed its assault, swinging at Wayne but missing and slamming its fist into one of the irregular
bumps on the cage's surface.
Wayne backed away, but the attacker didn't seem to react to having its hand mashed into the metal
of the cage. Instead it turned and began stalking Wayne again.
Hopkins feinted again and was able to deliver a heavy blow against the attacker's midsection, again
to no effect. Instead, the creature delivered his own blow to Wayne's side. Hopkins could feel his
ribs crack from the blow. He gasped for breath as the attacker grabbed him and threw him to the
floor of the cage, causing Wayne's head to hit one of the protrusions on the floor in a glancing blow
but opening up a cut on his scalp. As the attacker loomed over the gasping and woozy Hufflepuff,
Hopkins managed to shoot his foot out and topple the attacker.
Wayne looked around in a panic. He was clearly outmatched and this thing--whatever it was as it
certainly was not human--was out to hurt him bad, probably kill him. Hopkins fumbled around and
found his wand as his attacker regained its feet.
"Stupefy!" Hopkins screamed, putting all his magical force behind the curse.
But the creature did not react. It merely continued to advance.
Hopkins rolled quickly and painfully away from the creature's attack, but felt himself being pulled
up by his robes and slammed again against the curved sides of the cage, opening up a new gash on
the side of his face. He took a quick look up at the doorway, which was a good four feet above the
pit of the cage where Wayne lay. He didn't think he could scramble up the small wall and out of the
cage door before the creature caught him and pulled him back.
Again Wayne scrambled away from the next attack and painfully turned on his back. Then he saw
his chance. The broom.
Hopkins saw the creature turn to attack him again. As it approached, Hopkins drew up his legs and
kicked out painfully, catching the creature square in the chest with both feet and knocking it
backward, causing it to lose its balance over one the irregularities in the floor.
Hopkins was quickly on his feet and, ignoring the excruciating pain in his side and the blood now
pouring out of his scalp and face wounds, leaped up and grabbed the broom. He managed to swing
a leg over the broom's handle and leaned forward. The broom began to move toward the door and,
before the creature could react, Hopkins was out.
Wayne didn't bother to look back to see the creature climb out of the cage a lope away from the
Quidditch pitch and into the Forbidden Forest.
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Slowly and painfully, Hopkins maneuvered the broom around to the from of the castle. Luckily, it
was a mild night for November and the main doors were still open. He managed to fly into the
entrance and practically into a crowd of students coming out of the Great Hall after supper.
His last conscious thoughts were of the screams and curses of students as he fell, battered and
bloody, off the broom and on top of several Ravenclaw boys who broke his fall.
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CHAPTER ELEVEN GOLEM
***
It was a long walk back to Diagon Alley.
Sirius felt old. Older than he had felt in a long time. He was 36 years old. And he was still acting
like a lusty teenager.
Lakshmi's lecture had disturbed him more than he realized. He thought about his life. He had been
in Azkaban for 12 years and been on the run for over two years. It was a long dry spell. But now
that he was free, there was something missing from his life. Something that all the Merries of the
world couldn't fill.
He had found that, in hanging out in the Knockturn Alleys of the Wizarding World, he had
something of a reputation. He was known as the man who could tie tin cans to the tail of the Auror
service and sit back an laugh as it ran around in circles, chasing him. And there was no end of
witches who were enamoured of his image as a 'bad boy.'
But his series of one night stands, while enjoyable, left him unfulfilled.
Now he was being lectured by a witch 10 years his junior about the family life of a friend who was
seven years his junior. And he realized that Lakshmi was right. He was being immature and was
becoming a threat to lead Shane in the same direction. He had come to look forward to his missions
more as just a chance for a good time and a little play-acting than as information-gathering for the
Order. And he felt guilty.
He sighed. Fun was fun. But returning to an small, empty flat above a store in Hogsmeade was all
he could look forward to at the end of the night.
And his flat. He chuckled without humor. He was heir to one of the more substantial fortunes in
Wizarding Britain. But it was all tied up in the Ministry courts. While still alive, cousin Narcissa
Malfoy had put in a claim, freezing the Black estate. And somehow, a lawyer had stepped forward
on behalf of another cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, despite her life sentence in Azkaban.
Sirius had even received an owl from a third cousin recently, Andromeda Tonks. She had explained
that, even though he was now cleared and free, the estate was still tied up because of political
pressures and Ministry greed. Because Narcissa's and Bellatrix's claims to the estate were now
subject to confiscation by the Ministry, some people high up in the Ministry were campaigning for a
prolongation of the dispute in hopes that a substantial measure of the proceeds would end up in
Ministry hands through settlement or court ruling. So Andromeda, with Sirius' blessing, intervened
to state her own claim. In doing so, she announced there was no chance of settlement and sent Sirius
a letter promising to recognize his superior claim.
This left Sirius with nothing at the moment. Well, not exactly nothing. Thanks largely to a
wheezing old man who no one paid attention to in the Ministry, he had title to No. 12 Grimmauld
Place, his childhood home. As keeper and recorder of all Wizarding land and real property, Elphias
Doge, a member of the original Order of the Phoenix, managed quietly to transfer free and clear
title to the old manor to Sirius Black. Sirius laughed at the thought. The one thing he wanted no part
of in the entire Black fortune, Black Manor in London, was now his. He was grateful to present it to
the Order of the Phoenix to use as a headquarters.
So here he was, soon to be 37 years old, with no real income beyond the pitiful Ministry blood
money of 100 Galleons a month, and maybe another 20 to 30 Galleons a month in consultancy fees
for teaching at the Auror Academy. He doubted that he could be employed in any legitimate job.
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After all, he was an ex-convict, albeit a wrongfully imprisoned one, who a large percentage of the
Wizarding world still believed was guilty. He lived in a tiny a one-room flat in a modestly
prosperous but very much out-of-the-way town in Scotland. So, at the end of the day, he had
nothing and no one to come home to.
He sighed as he entered the Leaky Cauldron and, after chucking a sickle into the jar on the fireplace
mantel, flooed home. Home to that flat in Hogsmeade.
He lay down and drifted off into a fitful sleep.
He did not hear the pops, as six new Aurors apparated into Hogsmeade and headed for Hogwarts on
the run.
***
Harry was in the hospital wing after carrying up a violently ill Willie Peters, who had eaten too
much left-over Halloween candy and then tried to mimic Ron's appetite at supper on top of it, when
he heard the commotion.
Willie's partner in crime, Maura Duffy, was fretting and clucking over Willie's antics and illness
when she turned around and gasped at Wayne Hopkins' bloodied form being levitated in by
Professors Snape and Sprout, with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall in their wake.
Harry Stood up and ran to the group. "What happened?"
McGonagall shooed Maura out and grabbed Harry, pulling him aside. "Mister Potter. I think you
should leave."
"I'm here with little Willie," Harry said as he peered over McGonagall's head. "Wayne Hopkins?"
he asked in amazement.
McGonagall grabbed Harry again. "Another attack. Just like Malfoy."
Harry blinked in concern for a friendly rival Quidditch player. "Is he...Is he going to be all right?"
McGonagall pulled Harry's face so he would look at her. "The Headmaster gave him a quick scan.
He is badly hurt, but he will be all right. Now I want you to get back to Gryffindor House and let
people know that Mr. Hopkins will be all right, but that everyone should be on their guard. We don't
know who did this, but whoever it was is extremely dangerous."
Harry stared. "Were they Death Eaters?"
McGonagall pulled Harry toward the entrance of the hospital wing. "It wasn't a magical attack. He
was physically beaten, just like Mister Malfoy. He kept muttering about the beater cage and a
creature. Don't say anything about that. Just tell everyone to be aware. And don't let any wild
rumors to spread. He's going to be all right. It may take a few days, like Mr. Malfoy, but he should
recover."
Harry looked at her with wide eyes. "We have to do something."
McGonagall nodded. "We'll call the prefects together once we get things organized. But until then,
your place is with your housemates."
Harry nodded.
***
Hannah Abbott shed silent tears as she rocked her best friend, Susan Bones, sobbing in her arms.
This whole year was turning into a hell. First it was the return of Voldemort and the attack on her
friends Harry and Parvati. Then Malfoy going around cursing out everyone in sight, including poor
Susan. Then the fight between Malfoy and Wayne. This led to Wayne, Susan and her wandering
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around in fear that Malfoy would turn Wayne in for beating that little blond bastard. All three
worried that this could get Wayne expelled or worse, and could get Hannah and Susan expelled for
mending his broken knuckles and keeping their mouths shut about the fight.
Then last night. Hannah now had no more tears to shed for herself over last night, when she and
Susan were in opposite roles of comforter and comforted. Hannah had finally discovered that Ernie
had been sleeping with Betty Lewis. It had been an ugly scene in the Hufflepuff common room,
with shouting and name-calling, ending the five-year friendship and three-year relationship between
Hannah and Ernie.
But that was nothing compared to what Susan was going through. Susan was hard-pressed to admit
it to anyone besides Hannah, but she desperately loved Wayne. And now Wayne lay in the hospital
wing with severe injuries. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout had done her best to reassure them
that Wayne's injuries were not life-threatening--that he had escaped in time. But the thought that
Wayne had almost died at the hands of an unknown force was terrifying.
And Hannah wept for her friend. Susan had lost everything before she even had time to know she
had anything. An attack by Voldemort had taken her grandparents, her parents and her older sister
and, but for the grace of a heavy blanket hastily thrown over her crib that caused her to go
unnoticed in the carnage, Susan would have been murdered as well.
So Susan had been raised by her Aunt Amelia. Hannah had met Aunt Amelia on several occasions,
and knew that she was caring, but was also hard-nosed and often preoccupied as she pursued her
political career at the Ministry. Probably not the best person to serve as a single parent to a
frightened, moody orphan.
Susan had found true friendship for the first time among her roommates at Hogwarts. There was
Pamela Hutchinson, the tall, dark-haired beauty who was forever cracking wise and sharing beauty
secrets and making them all up. And Megan Jones, the black girl from Sheffield who had such a
bubbly sense of humor and warm smile. And Karen Holmes, the gawky, plain-faced girl who would
sit dreamy eyed at the rest of the group's romantic tales of triumph and woe. And, of course,
Hannah, who was always there to listen, laugh, confide in and be a consolation.
And Susan had found love at Hogwarts for the first time in her life. Wayne was not the most
handsome boy in the world. But he was strong and brave and loyal, and he would sit stolidly by her
side through Susan's occasional fits of depression and be there for her whenever she needed him.
And last night she almost lost him.
Classes had been canceled tomorrow and a special prefects meeting had been called for 10:00
tonight. Hannah didn't know what would happen there, and didn't want to leave her friend. But she
had to be there. She had to know what to do to help. She had to do whatever she could to help keep
her friends safe.
Maybe Harry would know. Maybe Harry and Parvati could teach her.
***
"Mr. Malfoy, please answer the question."
Draco continued to stare down at his quill as he rolled it between his fingers. Harry and the other
prefects watched Malfoy intently and waited for his answer to McGonagall's question.
Finally, he looked up at McGonagall. "Probably," he said blankly.
McGonagall gave Malfoy a fierce look. "Do you or don't you think that the creature who attacked
you was the same one that attacked Wayne Hopkins?"
Draco took a deep breath. It wasn't the creature. It was Wayne Hopkins who beat him. Draco could
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remember it all clearly up through the second punch. He had been 'borrowing' Dark Arts volumes
from Madam Pince's locked supply cabinet for a couple weeks and had come across some nasty
potions he wanted to try to brew. But some required exotic ingredients. He knew he couldn't ask his
head of house for all of them for fear of raising Professor Snape's suspicions. So he decided to break
into Greenhouse 4 to steal a couple rare herbs he needed.
What he hadn't counted on was the presence of that big ox, Wayne Hopkins. Hopkins had
challenged Draco on what he was doing, skulking around the greenhouses after hours. Draco had
replied with a few choice epithets aimed both at Hopkins and his girlfriend Susan and about how a
big clod like Hopkins could possibly be boning bony Bones. A furious Hopkins had rushed him,
literally walking through a couple sharp hexes as if they we mosquito bites. Draco remembered the
crack and the pain in his jaw after the first punch. Then nothing after the second one.
But he would never admit it was Hopkins. To do so would raise questions as to the origin of the
creature, possibly pointing to Draco and his activities to create the avatar. But Malfoy was prepared.
Draco hadn't started out a great liar. He did tend to get a little full of himself. But as a child growing
up, he would occasionally say something boastfully out of turn or mention something he shouldn't.
Then Lucius would let loose with a terrifying tirade, and an occasional beating, to let Draco know
in no uncertain terms that some things stayed within the family. This led to Draco learning a kind of
cunning when it came to the truth.
He found it ironic that his often arrogant, blustering behavior provided an excellent smokescreen for
the crafty lie. No one expected him to be able to fabricate an intricate story when he always seemed
to be shallow and self-absorbed.
And he had learned how to push people's buttons. This worked so easily with people like Weasley
and Potter, and to a lesser extent, the Mudblood, Granger. But he also knew instinctively how to go
for the heart. And now was his greatest opportunity. It was a story he had been working on for
several weeks and he knew just how he wanted to set it up and just how to go for the heart.
He looked up at McGonagall. "It sounds like it," he said flatly.
McGonagall stared at Malfoy in exasperation. "And why didn't you say so before, Mr. Malfoy."
A most convincing angry look passed over Malfoy's face. He paused, dramatically, taking a couple
deep breaths and then stared defiantly back at McGonagall. "What was I supposed to say? The
bogeyman beat me up? Who would believe me? No one believed the Boy Wonder over there when
he said the Dark Lord was back," he snapped, gesturing to Harry. "It took a personal appearance by
Him and his Death Eaters..." Draco said in a sudden choking voice "...in front of dozens of
witnesses before anyone would believe Potter."
Malfoy was breathing hard now under the strain of his performance. "So who's going to believe me
about some wild story about a monster on the loose? The son of a Death Eater. An orphan for all
intents and purposes," he snarled. "And don't think I haven't heard the comments. 'Malfoy's gone
mental.' 'He's begging for sympathy.' 'He tried to kill himself.' So I kept my mouth shut," he said,
angrily tossing his quill on his writing tablet.
McGonagall's expression softened momentarily, then became stern again. "Don't you realize how
valuable your information could have been if you had chosen to talk sooner?"
Draco stared at her. "How? I was beaten and put in the hospital wing for five days. You all knew
there was something out there. How would my subjecting myself to even more ridicule have helped
you any more than evidence of my own injuries?"
McGonagall was annoyed, but understood Malfoy's point. He had acted foolishly by not saying
anything, but his rationale was understandable, she thought. "Well, you must tell the investigating
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Aurors everything you can remember about your attack."
Malfoy shrugged. "He was about as tall as Macmillan, or Potter. But wider. And had flat features,
like oriental, except he didn't have slanty eyes. That's all I remember before he hit me."
Harry looked at Malfoy as he gave his recitation. He didn't trust the Slytherin, and tried to pick
apart what Malfoy was saying and how he was saying it. He was being strangely forthcoming all of
a sudden. And there seemed to be a hint of nervousness, but also a trace of smugness, in the way he
was telling his story. Harry frowned. It didn't really sound like Malfoy. But maybe, Harry thought,
it was because he'd mostly heard the arrogant, sarcastic Malfoy, not the bitter, frightened Draco. It
may be that Malfoy was now worried about the reappearance of his attacker, and feeling a bit of
vindication that he wasn't being singled out by this thing. But still, Harry didn't trust his rival.
But his thoughts were interrupted by the door opening.
A group of six individuals stepped in. They were all wearing back robes with reds stripes on their
arms. Harry nodded. Aurors.
He smiled to recognize a couple. One was Ben Chadwick, the Hufflepuff Auror who was Cyrus
Thomas's friend. Another was Nick Giannis, who he had seen around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade
and who Harry had already come to like before he found out that Giannis had been a Slytherin at
Hogwarts.
The other four were an odd mix. There was a senior Auror who was black and completely bald,
with a severe, serious look on his face. An equally severe looking woman in early middle-age with
a trim bun in her hair who looked like what McGonagall may have looked like 30 years before. An
athletic looking man who may have been in his early 30s with swept back blond hair and a look that
may have been what Malfoy could aspire to become. And a cute young woman whose dark blond
hair showed short pigtails sprouting in about a dozen places all over her head.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "I would like to introduce you all to some people who have been
sent over by the Ministry to help us with our patrols. They are Aurors and will help patrol at night,
both within the Castle and outside. Some of them you already know from before."
McGonagall nodded to the group and then turned back to the Aurors. "This is Lila Carpenter,"
McGonagall said of the severe-looking woman with the bun. "You may have already met Benjamin
Chadwick and Nicholas Giannis."
"Ben," Chadwick said with a smile.
"Nick," said Giannis without a smile.
McGonagall returned to her introductions. "This is Nymphadora Tonks..."
The young female Auror gave McGonagall a furious look. Harry could have sworn that her pigtails
suddenly jumped and flashed bright red, but shook his head and dismissed the thought.
"Tonks," the young woman said in an annoyed tone. "Just Tonks."
McGonagall gave Tonks what looked like the tiniest of smiles and turned to the blond Auror. "This
is Werner Shaw."
Shaw merely gave a vaguely superior smile and nodded.
"...and this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, who will head the team within Hogwarts," McGonagall
concluded.
***
It was an odd amalgam of people who approached the Quidditch pitch at lunch the next day.
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Madam Hooch was there, of course. And Ernie Macmillan, as a close friend and teammate of
Wayne Hopkins. Jack Bletchley, the Slytherin keeper, ambled over out of a sense of curiosity.
Anthony Goldstein, a Ravenclaw beater and one who used the beater cages as much as anyone was
there. Harry Potter was there as both a prefect and a Quidditch player, as Angelina Johnson was as
player and head girl.
They approached the beater cages as two Aurors, Shacklebolt and Giannis, leaned against the side
of the sphere, chatting. Chadwick suddenly peered out and shrugged, shoving his wand up his
sleeve before hoisting himself up from within the cage back to ground level.
The three Aurors looked at the group with limited interest. "Quidditch Association coming to check
up on us?" Chadwick asked with a raised eyebrow.
Madam Hooch frowned. "Is there any damage?" she said in her most serious tone.
Suddenly, Goldstein walked past the Aurors to look into the cage.
Harry shrugged. He knew this was the cage they all called 'Goldstein's Globe.' Tony Goldstein was
small and frail looking at first glance. He was about Malfoy's size but smaller boned. And he had
dark, doe-like eyes that made some of the girls talk excitedly about him. But Harry felt Tony was an
okay guy from his courting of Rachel Weiss, the fourth-year Gryffindor. If he wasn't okay, Harry
was sure he would have heard it from Ginny, one of Rachel's best friends.
But Goldstein had a dark olive complexion and, surprisingly for a boy his age, a dark, relatively
heavy stubble that highlighted a thin, angular jaw line. And Harry knew from watching him fly on
his own and in the Ravenclaw tryouts and, even more so, from watching him come bruised and
sometimes bloody from his long bouts in the beater cage, that he wasn't fragile. He was one of the
few on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team that Harry believed needed to be reckoned with.
Goldstein turned to the Aurors. "Is it all right?"
Shacklebolt turned to Madam Hooch and shrugged. "We've been at this for four hours. No magical
signatures beyond what you'd typically find in a beater cage, except for the stunning curse the
Hopkins boy told us about this morning," he said in a flat tone. "There was some blood stains on the
walls and floor. A little dirt and mud. A couple of small pieces of skin, probably from Hopkins
when he slammed against the wall. We checked them, but they seemed to be neutral."
Harry blinked. "Did you check for footprints and stuff like that? Like clues? Don't you have some
lab you could take the blood and skin to analyze it?"
Chadwick and Giannis turned to Harry with puzzled looks, but Shacklebolt cleared his throat. "The
blood is all consistent with that of Hopkins. As for Muggle labs, I don't know what they could do."
Harry looked at Shacklebolt in surprise. "I saw on the Muggle tele this summer. Their police are
always taking hair and skin samples and checking them for clues. There's something called DNA
that they always check for. I'm not sure what that is, but it seems pretty important from the shows I
watched. Things like that."
Shacklebolt sighed. "There are no Muggle-born Aurors. And precious few mixed-birth Aurors, most
of them a lot older. I'm quite sure they don't know anything about this...DNA. The Ministry sees
Muggle methods as plodding and a lot of make-work."
Harry frowned. "I might know someone..." but he was cut off by Goldstein.
"Can I go in?" he repeated.
Madam Hooch shrugged and Shacklebolt turned to the Ravenclaw beater. "Why not?"
Goldstein jumped down into the pit of the beater cage. Without asking, Harry followed, then turned
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to help Madam Hooch down. She shrugged and shook her head, staying outside to look around the
cage. Harry noticed the faces of the other Quidditch players appeared in the doorway as they looked
around to survey any possible damage to the cage.
Harry looked around. The cage was kept immaculately clean and the walls were kept a bright white
for visibility. He looked down to keep from stepping on the dried blood and gave a shiver. That was
Wayne Hopkins' blood. He could have been killed here, Harry thought.
He noted that Goldstein was running his hands over the curved, studded sides of the cage as if
testing for imperfections. Harry then stooped down to finger the tiny pile of debris at the bottom of
the cage. He shivered at the sight of a small patch of skin with tiny reddish-brown hairs poking out.
Suddenly, he paused. Wayne Hopkins had dark brown hair. Not reddish brown. Slowly he reached
and picked up the slice of skin, no bigger than the nib of a quill and looked at it carefully. Reddish
hair. He turned it over and, instead of flesh, there seemed to be reddish clay.
He looked up at Hooch and then Shacklebolt, who now had joined the group, idly peering in.
"There's no blood on the inner side of this skin. Just some red clay or mud or something," Harry
said in a puzzled voice.
Suddenly, Bletchley snorted. "Just as I thought," he said with a grin. "A Mudblood did it."
"Shut up, Miles," Ernie growled, using Bletchley's real, and very much hated, first name.
Goldstein grabbed Harry's wrist and looked closely. He turned over the piece of skin in Harry's
palm and looked even more closely. Slowly, he raised his eyes to Hooch, Shacklebolt and the rest
of the people gathered around. With a shiver, he said only one word.
"Golem."
***
Snape scowled. "I don't see why they are here," he snarled, pointing at Harry and Tony Goldstein.
Professor Dumbledore templed his fingers, giving a quick glance at Snape to quell his protest, and
then peered over his half-moon glasses at the assembled group. Snape, Moody, Flitwick and
McGonagall were there from the faculty. And Shacklebolt from the Hogwarts Aurors and Cyrus
Thomas, who headed the part-time Hogsmeade Auror team, also were present. The final member of
the group was William Masterson, the Chief Auror and the one everyone called MLE--Minister of
Law Enforcement.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry, tell us what you found."
Harry simply explained how he took a careful look at the skin after noticing the hair on it didn't
match Wayne's hair color.
Masterson shot an angry look at Shacklebolt, who sank down in his chair.
The Headmaster turned to Goldstein. "And how did you come up with your conclusion, Mr.
Goldstein."
The Ravenclaw tore his eyes from all the devices in the Headmaster's office and returned his
attention to Dumbledore. "Skin on the outside, but no blood on the inside. Just clay. It's just like
Rabbi Lowe in Prague."
Shacklebolt raised a questioning eye to Goldstein but held his tongue for fear of bringing any more
attention to himself.
Dumbledore nodded. "And you can tell us about Rabbi Lowe and the Golem?"
Goldstein nodded. "It was a time of persecution of the Jews in Prague. They needed a protector. So
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Rabbi Lowe made up the Golem out of clay. It served the ghetto, protecting people from attack and
harm."
Dumbledore and Moody nodded, and Flitwick tiled his head. "And then what happened?"
Goldstein took a deep breath. "Rabbi Lowe could control the Golem by placing a shem--a sort of
instruction or activator--in its mouth to bring it to life, and removing it when the Golem was not
needed. But one Sabbath, when the Rabbi forgot to remove the shem, the Golem went off on its
own, destroying at will. The Rabbi had to use the power of God to force the Golem's mouth open to
remove the shem and take away its life force. Only then, could Rabbi Lowe destroy it."
Snape snorted, but Moody stared with his good eye at the Ravenclaw. "You seem to know an awful
lot about this, Mr. Goldstein."
Anthony shifted uncertainly, but turned to look directly at Moody. "My grandfather and my father
are both Kabbalists as well as wizards. They used to tell me stories. The story of the Golem was one
of my favorites, and one of the scariest."
Dumbledore again peered intently at Goldstein. "And do you know how to create a Golem,
Anthony?"
Goldstein shrugged. "Nobody really knows, I don't think. My grandfather said that Rabbi Lowe
burned the incantation after destroying the Golem."
Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Ah, yes, Mr. Goldstein. But did not the good Rabbi have assistance in
his task?"
Tony Goldstein frowned. "He had two, I think. My father said it was his two sons. But my
grandfather says it was his son-in-law and a pupil."
Dumbledore merely nodded.
Cyrus Thomas scratched his short, wiry hair and frowned. "Lowe was a wizard?"
Goldstein nodded. "At that time in the ghettos, Jewish Muggles accepted Jewish wizards as part of
their own, as protectors and friends. Remember, this was 1580, when there was greater interaction
between our world and their world."
Masterson was thinking deeply, then glanced up at Dumbledore. "It sounds like the young man is
right."
Dumbledore nodded, sadly. "It would seem so based on my own examination of the evidence."
Masterson frowned deeply. "There hasn't been an avatar like this in Britain in nearly 200 years."
Harry gave the Chief Auror a surprised look. "Why not?"
Dumbledore spoke up. "Because, Harry, such avatars, or Golems, are inherently unstable and
unpredictable. Once loosed, they protect only up to a point. But they have to be deactivated...is that
the word you used, Mr. Goldstein? They have to be deactivated almost immediately after they finish
their tasks, or their creators lose control of them. They develop a mind of their own."
Harry stared wide-eyed at the Headmaster. "Frankenstein," he murmured.
Several of the people in the room nodded, but Shacklebolt frowned.
Cyrus Thomas gave a deep chuckle and turned to his compatriot. "As I recall, Kingsley, you always
hated Muggle Studies when you were here. This is where more attention to that class would have
paid dividends."
Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Yes, Harry. The creation turns on his creator. Legend has it that, once
loose and unsupervised, they become obsessed with their place in the world and lash out. A form of
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insanity."
Harry gave Dumbledore a quizzical look.
The old Headmaster gave Harry a vague smile. "Imagine being thrust into a world having no
guidance and no knowledge, being locked away and suspected by those who desire your protection
and not given any instruction other than that you are expected to protect that world from harm. Add
to that, not knowing of your purpose or future beyond your immediate task."
Harry stared at Dumbledore, but the Headmaster had already turned back to the rest of the group.
Harry sank down and sighed in annoyance, looking back and forth between the various senior
people in the room. "So? Now that we know what we're looking for, shouldn't we track it down and
destroy it?" he asked in a bitter voice.
Dumbledore closed his eyes in sorrow. "It's not that easy, Harry. Golems are artificial beings. They
are neither alive, nor inert. They have no souls and are immune to magic. They cannot be tracked by
magical means. We would have to track it like Muggles searching for game. That would require us
to go blundering about in the Forbidden Forest, with all the dangers that implies."
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "But now there is an added dimension to such a search. There are
residents of the Forest who no longer are willing easily to accept such intrusions into their home,"
he said in a sad voice. "And they would be reluctant to aid us in our search unless their own world
also was threatened."
Dumbledore paused as this notion was absorbed by the group. "Further, Golems are immensely
strong and surprisingly clever, according to the literature. And no one that I have heard about
knows how to kill them. I would welcome any input from any of you on this matter."
Snape cleared his throat. "Perhaps Mr. Goldstein can enlighten us about this...shem."
Tony shrugged. "It is supposed to be a basic instruction followed by the true name of God."
Snape snorted.
Moody looked over to Masterson with a questioning eye. Masterson simply shook his head. Neither
McGonagall nor Flitwick had anything to add.
Masterson finally cleared his throat. "Albus," he started quietly. "This may call for some drastic
measures."
Dumbledore looked up at the Chief Auror with concern. "I do not think that would be a good idea,
William. It is still dangerous out there. Voldemort has been quiet, but there is no guarantee that he
will not begin attacking again. The children are safest while in the castle."
Masterson shook his head sadly. "They may be safe from the Dark Lord, but can you guarantee
their safety from this...Golem?"
"We're taking every precaution..." McGonagall started to object, but Masterson cut her off.
"Albus," Masterson began again, in a much quieter voice. "With the return of Voldemort
acknowledged and Lucius on the run for a capital offense, the Board of Governors here have given
you a free hand. But when this comes out, and it will, parents will begin to panic. You've had two
students severely beaten, almost killed. So the Board will be forced to act, in part by pressure from
Fudge."
Masterson frowned at his mention of the Minister of Magic's name. "Fudge would like nothing
more than to see you dismissed in disgrace," he said softly. "Amelia has been running interference
for you, you know."
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Dumbledore nodded. "Miss Bones has always had her heart in the right place," he replied.
Masterson nodded reluctantly. "She's got Fudge convinced that, if he were to move against you
now, he would suffer greatly at the hands of the press, and it would set you up to step into his shoes
by public demand. The Wizangamut's hand would be forced. But the situation we have here, with
this Golem harming innocent students, could give him an excuse he's been waiting for if you don't
act quickly and with discretion," Masterson said. "But more importantly, the action may be forced
on you by a sense of duty on the part of the Governors, whose first concern should, and I hope now
is, the safety and welfare of the students."
"What action?" Harry exclaimed in a worried tone, startling all those who had forgotten he and
Tony Goldstein were still in the room.
McGonagall reached over and grabbed Harry's arm with a worried look. "They're talking about
closing Hogwarts, Harry," she said in a thick voice.
Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Give us some time. There is some reading and thinking I'd like to do on
this."
Masterson nodded. "I will keep quiet for now. And I will stay here for a few more days to
investigate before making my report."
The group broke up and went their separate ways with heavy hearts.
***
"A Golem?" Hermione said in hushed tones.
Harry nodded.
"What...?" Ron said in a worried voice. "What's a Golem?"
Hermione turned to Ron. "It's an avatar. Like a monster, the undead, which stalks people and
destroys everything in its path."
Hermione grasped Harry's arm even tighter, but Harry didn't react. "Is it magical?' she whispered.
Harry shook his head and took a deep breath. "Look. None of this is to be repeated. You already
know that we are restricted to the castle or its immediate surroundings inside the outer wall."
Ron gave a humorless, barking laugh. "Right. That wall is, what, three feet high?"
Harry shrugged. "But there's a clear field of vision out to the Forbidden Forest beyond the walls
except for Hagrid's hut and the Whomping Willow and that small patch of trees on the far north side
of the Great lawn. If we are within the outer wall perimeter, we would see the Golem coming from
100 yards away, at least. Plenty of time to escape."
Ron nodded. "Plenty of time to get off a few good stunners."
Harry shook his head. "Magic won't help. Dumbledore said that Golem's are immune to magic," he
said quietly, his head down.
Hermione seemed lost in thought, but Ron became restive. "So what do we do?"
Harry frowned and looked up sadly. "They're talking about closing the school, just like what almost
happened when the Chamber of Secrets was opened."
Ron looked up, startled. "No way!"
Harry's head jerked up. "Keep it down, mate."
Harry glanced around the common room. A couple Gryffindors had glanced over at the fifth-year
study table, but they shrugged it off as another Weasley tantrum and went back to their business.
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Ron lowered his head in annoyance.
Suddenly, Hermione looked up. "It's resistant to magic, like Giants?"
Harry shook his head. "They aren't like Giants. Giants a resistant to magic. But this thing is
immune. You can't keep hitting them with blaster spells to wear their resistance down, like you
would a Giant. Golems don't even feel it."
Hermione paused, thinking again. Finally, she glanced up with an uncertain look. "So, if you can't
attack it magically, what about physically?"
Harry simply shrugged. "It's too strong. It nearly killed Wayne Hopkins, and he's twice my size."
Hermione looked up in surprise. "I'm not talking about getting into a fist fight with it. You can't use
direct magic, but indirect magic."
Harry frowned. Like what?"
Hermione frowned, biting her lower lip. "I don't know. But something like when you and Parvati
fought Voldemort. She couldn't hurt him with stunning spells, so she set him on fire."
Harry looked thoughtfully at Hermione. Finally, he shrugged, then nodded. "Let's hope we don't
have to find out."
***
With virtually all the grounds closed to students who weren't also accompanied by a faculty
member or an Auror, the library was more crowded than usual. Students huddled in groups around
library tables studying or discussing the latest developments, much to Madam Pince's annoyance.
With Harry on his way down to the dungeons to take his private defense instructions with Moody,
Parvati and Lavender decided that it was time to at least make an effort at studying. With a History
of Magic essay due, Lavender felt she couldn't put off things any longer. And Parvati found that, for
the first time in her life, people were actually asking her for help in classes. Somehow, reading her
texts now generally was less of a chore as long as she got to do so snuggled up next to Harry on one
of the squashy couches in the common room.
The two were idly paging through History of Magic texts, with Parvati occasionally leaning over to
impart something interesting she'd find to her best friend, when finally Lavender rolled her eyes. "I
mean, who cares? Like these people lived 300 years ago. So what if Danagril divorced Ethelred the
Egregious and ran off with some banker?"
Parvati stared at her friend. "Don't you see? These were real people. Like you and me. And Ethelred
was like the Minister of Magic and he's fighting this war against the Goblins and doing a plain
cock-up job of it. And the clans were getting on his case. So all he can do is come home to cry on
his wife's shoulder. She's his one true love and his only consolation."
Lavender suddenly turned to Parvati with interest. "Oh, like a romantic triangle?"
Parvati frowned for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. "I guess. So one day, Ethelred comes
home and finds a note from Danagril that says she's gone and here's the divorce papers and she's off
to marry Cuirtain the banker. Cuirtain is like one of the richest wizards in Britain."
Lavender sighed. "Was he handsome?"
Parvati rolled her eyes and turned the book around for Lavender to see. "Ugh. He looks like my
Uncle Seymour," Lavender said, making a face.
Parvati nodded. "Ethelred is heartbroken. So he goes out with the troops and makes his last stand
against the Goblins at Foresby Castle. He doesn't care if he dies or not because Danagril dumped
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him. Without her, he's got no reason to live. So he's going to win the war or die trying."
Lavender sighed again. "All for the love of the woman who betrayed him," she said with a dreamy
look on her face.
Parvati nodded. "So the Goblin attack is stopped. Next thing you know, the Goblins call for talks.
Ethelred doesn't care any more. Everyone hates him. The Goblins want to kill him. Danagril
dumped him. So what's the use?"
Lavender nodded.
"Then, Crawdrup, the chief Goblin, sees Ethelred is really around the bend and is going to do
something really mental if the war keeps going. So he offers a treaty. The Goblins will end the war
if the Wizarding world accepts them as free. No other terms or conditions."
Parvati paused to make sure Lavender was following all this, then continued. "The big problem is
that the Goblins had no way of supporting themselves. And everyone starts asking whether you can
trust the Goblins, seeing as they have no real money or anything," she said.
Lavender made a face. "I guess I understand...I think."
Parvati shrugged. "It's simple. Everyone accepted that Goblins are shrewd and could be trusted to
keep their word. And they are the best people...err, creatures...at business around. For generations,
Goblins took care of administering clan estates and businesses as servants. But now that they were
going to be free. They had the ability to do all this business stuff, but no one wanted them to enter
into businesses, because they would drive any wizard out of whatever business they chose of go
into competition against."
Lavender nodded. "Imagine having Goblins in the import business."
Parvati shook her head and snorted. "They might even give my sister Shi-Shi a run for her money,"
she said with a chuckle.
Then Parvati composed herself again. "So then Ethelred remembers what Cuirtain did to him,
stealing his beloved wife Danagril. Cuirtain pretty much ran the banking business in the wizarding
world. He like held the mortgages and loans on everyone and was pretty nasty to deal with. Nobody
liked him. So Ethelred proposes turning the banks over to the Goblins. That way, the Goblins have
a trade, the wizarding world has a bank they can trust, and Cuirtain is screwed. So that's how a
broken heart ended the last Goblin war."
Lavender looked at her best friend with wide eyes. "Wow!"
The two girls were chuckling when Parvati noticed Hannah approaching their table. She gave a
sympathetic smile to her friend. Parvati had heard about the blow-up in the Hufflepuff common
room a few days earlier. In fact, the incident had been so spectacular, with Susan Bones and Pamela
Hutchinson screaming at Ernie and his lover Betty Lewis and Hannah weeping on the floor with
Megan Jones and Karen Holmes, and Betty Lewis and Ernie yelling and Ernie being restrained by
Wayne Hopkins and Tony Goldstein, that the whole school knew about it almost the instant it had
happened. Were it not for Wayne being attacked the next day by the creature, Parvati would have
come to Hannah sooner.
As it was, Parvati rose to embrace her friend. "How you doing, Hannah," she whispered in her
friend's ear.
Hannah looked at her with sad eyes. "I'm okay," she said in a small voice. Suddenly, Hannah's eyes
took on a different look and her face turned more serious. "I'm going to be all right," she said
firmly. "Can we go somewhere and talk?"
Parvati looked down at Lavender, who simply motioned Parvati away. "I've got to check on
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Seamus, anyway. He probably got lost trying to find the library."
Parvati started to follow Hannah out of the library, but the Hufflepuff stopped. "Have you talked to
Blaise about the Slytherins?" she whispered.
Parvati shook her head.
Hannah motioned with her head. "She's over in Iceland again."
Parvati turned her head to see Blaise over in the far corner of the library, where she almost always
went to study. Occasionally she would be joined there by her sister Gina and some of Gina's thirdyear friends, or Leah Greinglass and, on rare occasions, Leah's twin Glenn and Aubrey Blythe. But
mostly she studied alone, thus reinforcing her nickname as the Ice Queen.
Hannah motioned toward Blaise and raised her eyebrows. Parvati nodded and the two girls made
their way to the study table everyone called Iceland.
"Blaise?" Parvati whispered.
Blaise Zabini looked up and suddenly all the memories of the Little Witches and Wizards School
came rushing back to Parvati. Parvati and Padma were not considered particularly pretty in primary
school. Hannah was an enthusiastic, fresh-faced young girl in pink robes and blond pigtails. But
Blaise stood apart. She had truly golden blond hair, a few shades lighter than Hannah's. And she
had piercing blue eyes. She was simply the prettiest thing.
But more than anything, it was the way she carried herself that set her apart. She was reserved and
always kept herself prim and proper. While Hannah could be found digging in the dirt to gather
flowers and Parvati and, to a lesser extent Padma, were always looking for physical outlet, whether
it be dancing or the kiddie training brooms, Blaise simply seemed to glide from classes to the
library to the fireplace to floo home. Parvati had at one point been annoyed to hear two of her
primary school teachers chatting and heard one remark that Blaise was 'the last lady in the
wizarding world.'
Parvati remembered once trying to drag Blaise into some game and then flopping down in
frustration when Blaise refused. She asked Blaise why she was such a poop. Blaise's face had taken
on a very serious look. She explained that her dad and her uncle ran the best restaurants in the
wizarding world, catering to the cream of wizarding society. She told Parvati how she had once
witnessed a drunken Ministry official berate her father over an imagined imperfection in the service
'from a mere merchant, a servant.'
Blaise admitted how she had broken down in tears on hearing her father being abused and said that
her father comforted her. He explained that the Zabinis had a bloodline as long as anyone, dating
back to their Swiss origins, and they had always taken pride in their work. He went on to emphasize
that what they did, they did with pride, and that she should always take pains to have as much if not
more dignity than those who she worked with, associated with or served. So Blaise said she had to
maintain the pride and dignity that her beloved father had instilled in her. And that precluded her
from playing in the dirt with Hannah and others like her, or doing cartwheels, showing her knickers,
like Parvati and Padma and their friends.
Parvati was furious at Blaise at the time. But she often thought about that conversation through the
years. Here was a young girl whose father owned at least seven of the most elegant and expensive
restaurants in Britain, and another dozen or so on the continent, and who could buy and sell a dozen
Ministry officials before breakfast. And yet he had the grace and dignity not to react to some
Ministry lout who most likely could only afford to eat at a Zabini restaurant thanks to bribe taking.
No, Parvati had never been close to Blaise down through the years, but she always respected her,
even when she was sorted into Slytherin. And now she looked down at Blaise and saw the same
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pretty, dignified, if somewhat aloof, young girl she had known in primary school.
But the flash of recognition in Blaise's eyes also showed her to be at least as lonely as she was in
primary school. Blaise hadn't blossomed as quickly or fully as Hannah. And she didn't have the
trim, athletic figure of Parvati. She seemed to be a pretty, blond young lady, waiting patiently for
adulthood and whatever life would present her with. And, most likely, waiting for a friend to appear
in her life.
Slowly, a smile appeared on Blaise's face. "Is this a reunion?" she said softly. "Please, sit down."
Parvati and Hannah slipped into the chairs across from Blaise. After a few minutes of small talk,
Parvati reached across the table and grasped Blaise's wrist. "How are the Slytherins reacting to what
happened to Draco and Wayne?" she asked urgently.
Blaise frowned and was silent for several moments. Finally, she looked up with a serious
expression. "They're scared."
Parvati nodded, and began to say something, but Blaise cut her off. "You don't understand. You're
up in the Gryffindor Tower. The Ravenclaws are up in their tower. But we're down in the first level
of the dungeons, at ground level. They say this thing is immune to magic and doesn't set off the
wards. Leah says that a Golem is a vicious monster that has not conscience and doesn't stop. And
that, unless it is carefully controlled by the person who made it, it can go off on its own."
Blaise frowned deeply, her brows furrowed in worry. "Our windows are small and barred, so there's
little chance that he could get in that way. But if he entered the dungeons, we'd be trapped," she said
urgently.
Blaise then turned to Hannah. "You must be going through the same thing, Hannah. But I hear you
have a couple doors to the outside. We don't. We have...well, no one is supposed to know this, but
we have a sally port, but there's always a chance we can get cut off."
Hannah and Parvati nodded. "What does Draco say?" Parvati asked.
Blaise shook her head. "Nothing. He rarely talks to anyone. Not even to Glenn or Aubrey."
Parvati cocked her eyebrow. "Not Pansy?"
Blaise pursed her lips. "Well, they do talk. But I think it's more like two outcasts casting their lots
together."
Hannah blinked. "Pansy?"
Blaise shrugged. "She's got a few friends, I suppose. Millicent talks to her, but they aren't really
close. Same with Tracey Davis. There's a couple fourth year girls who talk to her. Cronin Montague
talks to her, but he's such a creep that not even Pansy can abide him. Then there's Theo Knott."
Parvati and Hannah cringed at Knott's name. The sixth year Slytherin was given wide berth by
nonSlytherins. Everyone assumed he was a Death Eater already and made no pretense about his
absolute disdain for anything but other pure-blood Slytherins.
Parvati looked down at the table. "Blaise," she began softly. "We were wondering if there were any
of the younger ones in your house who might be trusted."
Blaise's eyes narrowed. "Trusted about what?" she asked quietly.
Parvati sighed softly. "Well, a group of us are getting together to teach the first and second years
self-defense. You know, in case of attack, and to give them...self confidence."
Blaise paused and stared. "Who? Moody?"
Parvati looked up in surprise. "No. Harry."
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Blaise, for once, lost her poise. "Harry Potter? Your Harry?"
Parvati nodded. "Well, it started in Gryffindor. But some people in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw have
gotten interested. And we figured there might be a couple young Slytherins who might want to
learn," she said in barely above a whisper.
Blaise leaned across the table and stared earnestly at Parvati and Hannah. "You mean someone
wants to help Slytherins?"
Hannah nodded slowly. "Why not?"
Blaise leaned back with a suspicious look on her face. "And this was Harry's idea?"
Parvati frowned. "Well, I suggested it, and Harry and most of the others agreed."
Blaise gave a quick nod. "So what do you want?"
Hannah looked over to Parvati, who took a deep breath. "We would like to know if there are any
Slytherins in the first or second, or even the third years, who would like to learn hands-on defense
against the dark arts and who can be trusted to keep their mouths shut. You know what would
happen if any of the Death Eater types got wind of this. They'd want to join to disrupt it or raise a
fuss to get it stopped."
Blaise was silent for a long time. Finally, she looked up at Parvati, then Hannah, then back to
Parvati again. "There are probably a few. The first years are okay. In the past, Draco used to strut
around the common room like some lord holding court and had a lot of influence on the younger
ones. But that hasn't happened this year. And, between dealing with Draco going mental and
enduring Montague and Knott, the first years basically keep to themselves. And there are a few in
second year who have been picked on a bit by the pureblood crowd who are pretty tight and can
probably be trusted. And my sister has a few friends who might be interested."
Hannah took a deep breath. "Could you sound them out?"
Blaise looked deep in thought. "Who else is involved?"
Parvati looked thoughtfully at Blaise. "Granger, Ron Weasley and me from Gryffindor. Entwhistle
and Morag and a couple of fourth years from Ravenclaw. Hannah and Ernie..." Parvati suddenly
stopped and looked at Hannah, who frowned.
Blaise reached over to squeeze Hannah's hand. "Sorry Hannah. I heard."
Hannah lowered her eyes and deepened her frown. "It's...okay, I guess," she whispered.
Blaise gave a slow nod, then turned back to Parvati. "I don't like Ron Weasley. He's one of the most
obnoxious people I've ever met...except for Draco and Theo. And Granger...well, I suppose I'm not
that friendly, either. The rest are okay." She turned to Parvati with a smile. "Draco hates Harry, and
that's a point in his favor, as far as I'm concerned. And he's with you so..."
Parvati chuckled. "Is that a plus, or a minus?"
Blaise smiled, then turned thoughtful. "This is just first through third years?"
Parvati shrugged. "Some others kind of watch. At least they did in Gryffindor."
Blaise looked down again. "I'll do it on one condition. That I can take part."
Hannah looked up, surprised. "Are you that good? I mean, you never seem to say anything in
DADA classes."
Blaise blinked in surprise. "No...I think you misunderstood. I want to learn, too."
Parvati tilted her head and looked at her friend in surprise. "You?"
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Hannah cleared her throat. "I was wondering the same thing, Parvati. Some of us in the later years
aren't as confident in DADA as you are."
Blaise nodded and took a deep breath. "Look, I know I'm not that good. And I don't have the same
chance as you two to learn," she said quietly.
Parvati frowned. "I'm not that good, either. Harry's been helping me..."
But Hannah was staring at Blaise. "What do you mean?" she whispered urgently.
Blaise lowered her head again. "You don't know what it's like in Slytherin."
Hannah and Parvati gave Blaise a puzzled look.
Blaise's face darkened and she took another deep breath. "Slytherins tend to group into cliques. You
know, this group and that group. The Death Eater types. The pure-blood doubters. The
shopkeepers," she said quietly. "And it's not just us against the other houses. It's us against them
within the house."
Parvati nodded but Hannah looked concerned. "There always will be groups within houses," Parvati
whispered.
"Not like in Slytherin," Blaise whispered. She looked down at her hands. "Do you know what
someone posted in the common room last year? A new house motto: 'It's Not Enough That I Should
Succeed. All Others Must Fail'."
Blaise looked up again. "That caused a big uproar. Unfortunately, it struck too close to home for
many Slytherins. Angry people in the house were trying to figure out for weeks afterward who did
it. Professor Snape was furious."
Hannah frowned. "You mean some people in Slytherin don't help their housemates?"
Blaise looked up in surprise. "Not only don't they help. There are some who actively try to hinder
their own roommates."
Hannah looked at Blaise in shock, while Parvati grasped the Hufflepuff girl's shoulder in
reassurance.
Blaise sighed. "I'll give you an example. You know that text that Moody told us to check in the
library on rebound spells a couple weeks ago? Well, I got to the library that evening and found all
the copies were gone. Later, when I got back to the dorm, I overheard Draco asking Pansy for a
copy of the text. I looked around the corner and saw her reach into her trunk. She had nine copies of
that text from the library in there. I had to scream and threaten to report her unless she lent me a
copy to share with Leah, Tracey, Glenn and Aubrey."
Parvati blinked. "I wondered about that. Hermione had already checked out a copy the previous
week so we all shared that copy to do our homework. And Mandy said there weren't any copies left
in the library so they had to search the Ravenclaw library until they found a copy to share with
everyone."
Hannah's face was showing anger. "We couldn't find a copy. Moody wasn't happy. He practically
accused Hufflepuff house of doing nothing but partying all day and night."
Blaise nodded. "That shows what it's like. I often wish that I was sorted into Ravenclaw, or even
Gryffindor..."
Parvati let out a giggle. "Not Hufflepuff?"
For the first time since Parvati and Hannah had known her, Blaise actually giggled. "No. Too much
partying there all day and all night." And Hannah and Parvati joined her laughter.
168
***
Harry couldn't help but mull over all that was happening. A Golem at Hogwarts -- an artificial being
with no heart and no soul, impervious to magic and resistant to control. And a being bent on
harming students, even professors possibly. And the students now, not just the young ones but his
contemporaries, even some sixth and seventh years, placing their trust in him. Trusting him to teach
them, to protect them, to anticipate what they would need and how they should act.
All this trust and hope placed on him.
And who was he? 'A cheater. A thief,' he thought as he pondered the stonecutter test and the Earth
Drawer. His Quidditch cups and victories which belonged as much to an NHS optometrist in Little
Whinging as it did to him. And Richard Burton's trunk, entrusted to Hogwarts only to be stolen by
some 15-year-old who couldn't keep his curiosity in check.
Harry felt like pounding on the walls as he walked morosely through the dungeon corridors toward
his private lesson with Mad Eye Moody. 'Let him ambush me,' Harry thought. 'Let him do his
worst. It's all that I deserve.'
As he rounded the corner toward Moody's classroom, he heard voices. One was clearly Moody's.
The other he also recognized -- Masterson, the chief Auror, the MLE.
"Damn it, Alastor! I knew my duty! I didn't need an order. Yet I had to wait several minutes before
Amelia gave the go-ahead," Masterson was shouting. "And minutes can mean the difference
between life and death!"
Harry could hear Moody grumbling and paused. "She's on the side of the angels, Bill, that you can
be sure. Surely she doesn't have you on that short a leash."
Harry heard Masterson grumbling. "No," he muttered. "Gave me hell for waiting for her..."
Moody made a rumbling sound. "Four years you're working together. You're just going to have to
learn to talk with her more. Damn the protocols. Work with her."
Masterson barked a bitter laugh. "But I should be the Minister of Law Enforcement! That's what
they call me on the streets!"
Moody grumbled again. "Better that Fudge reorganized. Keeps you at arm's length from him and
his gang. Amelia's shrewd. She'll protect you like you couldn't protect yourself."
Masterson's own growling became less distinct. "Still, it should go back to like it used to. Let her be
Justice Minister and me as MLE. Even if Amelia and I can work together, what'll happen when
we're replaced. It'll be a police state like back before Orville Williamson. One person to hunt them
down, arrest them, try them and sentence them. I tell you, you wouldn't put up with it."
"Nae, I wouldn't," Moody said with a humorless laugh. "Now if you will, Bill, I got me some
teaching to do and my star pupil is just about here."
At that, Harry resumed his pace and walked in the door to the classroom.
"Harry Potter. We meet again," Masterson said with a serious look.
Harry simply nodded. "Mr. Masterson."
At that, the chief Auror rose and, with a quick handshake, left the classroom.
Moody grinned evilly at Harry. "You heard all that?"
Harry gave a vague shrug.
"Good. Understand it, did you?"
169
Harry simply blinked and shrugged again.
Moody nodded, his magic eye twirling in its socket. He gestured for Harry to sit. "It's good you
know what's what in the world. You seem to be a magnet for Dark Arts and Voldemort, and the
Ministry knows it. But you're like a fish swimming with the sharks. You got to know how to keep
out of reach of their teeth."
Harry grunted in disdain.
Moody nodded. "Politics and law enforcement don't mix. You know one of the reasons I tell people
to be constantly vigilant?"
Harry shrugged. "Because you never know who might be lurking to attack?"
Moody nodded. "And not all attacks come by the wand. Bill Masterson was one of the most
respected Aurors since Orville Williamson. And he had a lot of friends. Our friend, the Minister of
Magic knew that. He knew he couldn't keep from appointing Masterson as the next Chief Auror and
Minister of Law Enforcement. So to blunt Bill's power, he ordered a Ministry reorganization...for
efficiency's sake. He combined the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Law Enforcement to be
headed up by Amelia Bones. He figured he could control a witch easier than a tough old wizard. So
instead of being Minister of Law Enforcement, Masterson became Chief Auror. Not even an
assistant minister's title. It's stuck in old Bill's craw ever since."
Harry blinked. "But I thought he was the MLE Minister."
Moody snorted. "Fudge's idea. Figured he'd undercut Masterson by putting him under Amelia. And
he figured no one would take Amelia seriously because the MLE has always been an Auror -- the
top Auror, and a wizard, not a witch. But they're both too smart and too tough to fall into that. The
Amelia Bones I taught here at Hogwarts would've cut your heart out if you caused trouble."
"Sounds like a Slytherin..." Harry muttered.
"She was," Moody said firmly. "But raising that gel, her niece, softened her enough to know what
she's about and it ain't just ambition. And Bill has patterned himself after Orville Williamson,
worships the man's memory. Two good people, them. But just about anyone else in the Ministry
would curse you as soon as look at you to get ahead."
Harry hung his head. "Aurors are ... well, they always seem to be after the wrong people. Like
Sirius."
Moody snorted. "It ain't the dog's fault if he's sicced on the wrong person. Masterson's been Chief
Auror for four years. He knows what he's about. And he ain't about going after the wrong people.
He just has to play the cards he's dealt, and that means playing a bluff when he's got nothing and
keeping his cards covered when he's got a winning hand."
"So he never really went after Sirius after all?" Harry asked.
Moody simply winked with his normal eyes.
Harry blinked and shook his head. It was hard to bluff in Exploding Snap. That's probably why he
was so bored with the game. Maybe he should learn more about poker.
"Now let's see what you got today, young Potter."
***
What Harry had was not much. After pondering Moody's remarks about Ministry politics, his mood
turned dark again. And with that, Moody's mood slowly turned darker.
"What the hell was that?" he growled menacingly when Harry failed to counter a stinger. "You want
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another? Maybe it'll take two or three to wake you up."
Harry simply slumped into the nearest chair. "What's the use?" he whined.
Both Moody's eyes suddenly focused on Harry. "What the hell's into you, Potter?"
Harry didn't respond.
Suddenly, Moody hit Harry's knees with a series of stingers, causing Harry to jump out of the chair
in anger and pain.
"What, you want a real duel?" Moody shouted. "Give you something to fight for? You can take a
little pain. You want a lot?"
Harry turned and gave Moody a foul look. "Oh, what's the point," he said dully and began to leave
the classroom."
"Expelliarmus!" Moody shouted. "Locomotor Mortis!"
Harry suddenly tumbled to the ground as his legs locked.
"Now you'll be telling me what's eating at your innards if you want to be walking out of here under
your own power," Moody growled.
Harry turned over and scowled. "Why waste your time with a cheater?" Harry growled back.
Both Moody's eyes zeroed in on Harry again. "What cheating? You ain't been cheating in my class.
Or down here."
Harry turned away from the DADA master. "No," he muttered. "Except during the stonecutter test.
And at Quidditch..." he said softly.
Moody leaned over Harry, staring in shock. "Quidditch? How?"
Harry took a deep breath. "Madam Hooch explained about seekers with glasses..."
Moody suddenly let out a howl. "Not that again," he exclaimed in a bizarre tone that Harry finally
recognized as laughter.
Harry frowned deeply at Moody. "Well, it's an unfair advantage, isn't it?"
Moody guffawed again. "Like your Firebolt ain't an advantage against anything but another
Firebolt."
Harry blinked. "Still..."
"Oh, shut up, you young arse. You takes what God gives you and does your best," Moody. "Them
glasses of yours is as much a disadvantage as an advantage. What's it like searching for that snitch
when the rains come? Eh? And how was it when that match of yours against Hufflepuff was
pushing three hours? Bet you had to take one of them potions old Hooch hands out afterwards.
Missed the firewhiskey party afterward, I'm betting," Moody said with a braying laugh.
Harry simply frowned. "We don't have firewhiskey parties. Just regular parties."
Moody shook his head. "Should have been around in my day. Plenty of firewhiskey."
Harry managed to hoist himself up into a nearby chair, his legs still locked. "What about the
Stonecutter test?" he said softly, his head down.
Moody started. "And how did you manage to cheat that? Got advance word and been practicing all
along?"
Harry shook his head morosely. "I had an Earth Drawer on," he muttered.
171
"A what?"
"An Earth Drawer. It draws power from your surroundings..." Harry said.
"What the hell is an Earth Drawer?" Moody asked in puzzlement.
Harry simply pointed down to his right wrist at the bracelet.
Moody blinked as his magic eye zeroed in on the artifact. Suddenly, Moody burst into cackling
laughter again.
Harry looked up in annoyance.
Moody regained his composure and gave what appeared to be a smile at Harry. "Potter, do you
know how many witches and wizards collect all kinds of talismans and flapadoodle to try to make
them more powerful? Hell, Isaac Earwhorn got rich selling Isaac's Wand Wax. It was guaranteed to
help spells slide off the wand easier."
Harry pouted. "Professor Dumbledore says Earth Drawers have real magical properties. They can
amplify magic."
Moody stared at Harry. "Okay, laddie. If you say so. We'll see how you do without such magical
amplifiers." Moody waved his wand and unlocked Harry's legs and grabbed his arm. "We'll see
what you got."
Moody waved his wand at a far wall and a door appeared. "Time to retest our block breaker without
all his cheating trinkets and such. Come along, laddie."
Harry was surprised to be escorted through the doorway to the same room where he took his
original Stonecutter test. He was equally surprised that the blocks were still set up.
"All right, laddie. Time for the retest," Moody exclaimed. He tapped Harry's wrist and the Earth
Drawer, which Harry couldn't budge, suddenly loosened and fell off his wrist.
"Here, stand right here. You remember the spell? Petrus Liqueficare. You got 30 seconds," Moody
growled.
Harry looked up at Moody. "My wand?" he asked, putting his hand out.
"Auch, no, young Potter. You said no magical amplifiers. Are you ready?"
Harry looked up at Moody, then to the first granite block. "But how...?"
Moody gave Harry an evil look. "You insisted. No cheating. No magical amplifiers. So, go to it.
You got 30 seconds, starting now."
Harry looked at the granite, then at Moody, then at the granite again in confusion. "But how can
I...?"
"Your wasting time, now, young Potter. You got 15 seconds and I don't see no hole in the block.
Let's go."
Harry was totally confused now. He started to give the spell, then stopped and looked at Moody in a
near panic.
"Time!" Moody exclaimed. "Well? No blockbreaker here. Would you like to try again? Or do you
want to be the first one in 147 years not even to mark the block."
Suddenly, Harry was angry. He was being mocked and he didn't like it. As the anger built, he stared
at Moody, then down at the granite. "Again," he growled. "I'll play your game."
Moody snorted in laughter. "Very well, young Potter. Wouldn't want to leave the block without a
little singe on it, would you? Well, ready."
172
But Harry was staring furiously at the block. As with the first test, he was focusing on a small spot
on the block, looking to the subtle graining within the rock. Suddenly, his focus drew down to a
pinpoint. "Now!" he shouted.
He pointed two fingers at the granite and muttered the spell. Harry didn't think. He didn't look. He
simply focused on the spell and his anger.
"Time," Moody shouted.
Harry opened his eyes to see a ragged, smoking hole in the granite about three inches in diameter
and two inches deep.
"Sweet Merlin," Moody muttered. "Never seen anything like that."
Harry turned toward the DADA master. "Well, at least you can say I singed it," he said
sarcastically.
Moody reached up and grabbed Harry. "Hold on, Harry. I ain't never seen that kind of wandless
power before. Let's try it again with the wand."
Harry still was breathing heavily in his anger. He grabbed the wand and closed his eyes again.
"Petrus Liqueficare."
Moody watched as the beam of red light blasted into the first block, then the second, then the third.
"Time!" Moody shouted and Harry raised his wand. The old Auror slowly walked down the line of
blocks and stopped that the back of the third block. He slowly lowered his thumb and then jerked it
back, sticking it into his mouth. Then he lowered his head and peered with his normal eye.
"I see some daylight there," he said softly. "Triple block." Moody then looked at the fourth block
and saw a singe mark on it where Harry's spell had already started to burn it even while breaking
through the third block.
Moody looked up at Harry. "What did you have on your first test? Three blocks and what?"
Harry, who was now calming down, shrugged. "Snape said 14 inches or so."
Moody sat down in deep thought, his magic eye wandering lazily around the dungeon room but
continually coming back to the granite blocks. Finally, he looked up at Harry.
"Young Mister Potter. You have a gift. I've never seen the likes. But that thing you were wearing
helps you use your gift. I suggest you put it back on and never take it off. And maybe learn to use
it."
Harry nodded, now deep in thought himself.
Moody looked at Harry closely. "What is it? Where'd you get it?"
Harry shrugged. "It's from the Ojibwe Indians," he said quietly.
Moody frowned. "Your sweetheart, the Patil gel give it to you?"
Harry shook his head in puzzlement. "No. Not those Indians. American Indians. I got it from
Hermione for my birthday. Except she called them First Americans or something."
Moody leaned over, deep in thought. Finally, he nodded. "Mysterious people, them Indians. I
studied a little about them when I was a young one. Great power, but they never had much
experience with Dark Wizards from what I hear. Except maybe in the mountains by Mexico. One
destroyed an entire nation--Anasazi, I think they were."
Harry simply nodded, not knowing what else to do.
Moody returned the nod. "I'll have to find my old books. Maybe you want to take a look."
173
Harry nodded again. If it would help him fight Voldemort, he would read anything.
***
The class was somber. It was Wayne Hopkins first day back. And McGonagall was quiet.
Transfiguration was not the easiest of subjects. And her stern demeanor fostered a sense of
seriousness among the students, even among the easygoing Hufflepuffs and the often intense,
suspicious Slytherins. McGonagall sighed. Her Gryffindor-Ravenclaw classes were easier. The
Ravenclaws usually could be counted on to pay attention and be prepared. And the Gryffindors-well, they were her people. And even the Gryffindors seemed to be a little more serious this year.
And both Houses seemed to be coping better with the recent attacks than the Hufflepuffs and
Slytherins, who had suffered directly from the Golem. And the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors seemed
to get along better than the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, whose disdain for each other was surpassed
only by the near state of war that existed between the Gryffindors and Slytherins.
McGonagall chuckled to herself. She remembered the old saying. Gryffindors hated Slytherins,
competed with Ravenclaws, and married Hufflepuffs. Well, maybe not much anymore, she thought
with a smile. But Hufflepuffs and Slytherins treated each other like different species. Hufflepuffs
looked at Slytherins as dangerous beasts to be avoided at all costs. And Slytherins looked at
Hufflepuffs with a disdain as if they were unruly pets, to be tolerated only when absolutely
necessary, but otherwise to be pushed out of the way or out of the house.
McGonagall looked over at the Hufflepuff side of the room. The scars on Hopkins' face and head
had healed well, she noted, although he still showed discoloration on his cheek. But he still walked
stiffly, favoring his ribs, as he entered the classroom flanked by Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones.
As they took their seats, McGonagall noted that the Hufflepuff seating arrangements had shifted.
Hannah no longer partnered with Ernie Macmillan, who was now in a different row and partnering
with Zacharias Smith. She nodded, knowing the story. And she gave an internal shrug. Perhaps it
was for the best. Smith was bright, and Ernie was powerful but unfocused. And when he was with
Hannah, his focus had more incentive to wander. Now with Zach as a partner, maybe he would
finally start concentrating.
And Hannah was now partnering with Karen Holmes, the plain, dreamy-eyed girl with the vivid
imagination who sat next to the aisle between the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. Hannah was
reasonably bright and attentive. Karen, on the other hand, was smarter, but had a tendency to drift in
class, sometimes surprising everyone with her work, and sometimes needing as much prodding as
Ron Weasley to pay attention. Maybe, from an academic standpoint, the breakup between Ernie and
Hannah would have its benefits.
"Settle down, please. We have much to cover," McGonagall announced. "We have already lost
several precious days of class time in the past two months, and we must cover all the material we've
missed."
McGonagall then looked down at Wayne Hopkins. "Welcome back, Mr. Hopkins. I pray that you
are feeling better," she said with a soft smile.
Hopkins nodded. "Yes, thank you," the large boy said in a small voice as Susan grabbed his hand
and gave it a squeeze.
"Now, we have been covering transfiguring multiple objects into a single object," McGonagall
began. "Now, we are moving to the next step in our studies: Transfiguring multiple objects into an
animate object. Please note the water goblets in front of you. You each should have three. Today I
will show you how to transfigure these goblets into a rabbit. Once you have mastered this, you
should be able to use this spell, with variations, to transfigure other sets of objects into an animate
174
object."
Thus the lesson began. And it was the usual comedy of errors whenever a new concept was
introduced. McGonagall noticed that Draco was now partnering with Pansy Parkinson, after
considerable friction had developed between them after Pansy's notorious public humiliation in the
Great Hall with Harry Potter and Parvati Patil the previous month. But McGonagall was
disappointed that Draco was still having trouble concentrating. It was understandable, she supposed,
given the return of the Golem. Only Blaise Zabini and Leah Greinglass seemed to be having any
success.
On the other side, Justin Finch-Fletchley, partnering with Megan Jones, was the first to succeed, as
usual. She looked over at Smith and Macmillan and was surprised to see them struggling. Suddenly,
she heard a soft voice singing and turned in surprise to see a smiling Karen Holmes cradling a white
rabbit with a brown muzzle as if it were an infant child, while Hannah smiled softly and stroked its
head.
McGonagall recognized the tune as a common lullaby.
When the sun goes down,
Little baby nods
Under a sky of stars
In his dressing gown
Little baby nods
And dreams of lands afar
On his broomstick light
Little baby nods
And dreams of flying soon
Over clouds of white
Under silver stars
Under a golden moon
Suddenly, Holmes seemed to remember where she was and looked up with an uncertain smile.
"My mum used to sing that to me and my little sister when we were small," Wayne Hopkins said in
a soft but audible voice.
McGonagall simply smiled.
***
Draco heard the song and looked up across the aisle. He saw that Holmes girl cradle the rabbit,
singing softly. Then he heard Hopkins far-away voice.
Suddenly, Draco shivered and looked down at his desk, fighting tears. His mother used to sing that
to him when he was small. He remembered being held in her arms when he had awakened from a
nightmare, or was lonely or upset, to feel his mother's reassuring voice and feel her warmth
surround him and protect him.
He remembered once when she was singing to him, his father suddenly enter the room, annoyed.
"You're going to turn him into a milksop," his father had growled and grabbed Draco away from the
warmth and comfort of his mother's arms. He remembered his parents arguing in quiet voices, but
175
didn't understand. He only wanted to go back to the security of his mother's embrace.
But he felt that embrace no more after that night. He was three years old.
Draco them looked over at Hopkins. Wayne Hopkins was a couple inches over six feet and broad
and muscular. He could see a patch in Hopkins thick, dark hair where Pomfrey obviously shaved it
in a narrow band to magically stitch the gash there. And he saw the vague swelling under Hopkins'
left eye from where another gash had been repaired. And he saw Susan Bones slip her thin arm
around Hopkins' broad, strong back to rub it in reassurance.
Draco remembered how his mother would reassure him that he would grow up to be tall and strong
and handsome and always be the best in everything and be gloriously happy with the girl of his
dreams.
He closed his eyes and series of flashes seemed to erupt in his brain. He realized that every mother
told their sons that. That every child was the embodiment of the hopes and dreams of the future to
their parents. And he looked back once again to see Hopkins seeming to lean against the small
Susan Bones for reassurance.
The huge and strong Wayne Hopkins was once merely an infant cradled in his mother's arms as she
sang softly to him just as Narcissa Malfoy had done for Draco. Wayne Hopkins was once that tiny
infant, sharing all the love and hopes that every parent, every mother, invest their children.
'And I nearly destroyed that,' Draco thought.
He had heard what a close-run thing it was with Hopkins. His creature had set about not just to
teach Hopkins a lesson, to extract a portion of revenge for his beating of Draco, but to kill the boy.
To kill the son of a mother. To kill the person who once was an infant boy who was cradled in the
warm and secure arms of a loving mother as she sang her lullaby to him.
And Draco thought of his mother and her hopes and dreams. What had happened? Had he grown up
to be tall and strong and handsome and always be the best in everything and be gloriously happy
with the girl of his dreams?
No. He was not tall. Perhaps he would one day. He was not particularly strong. Not like Crabbe or
Goyle. He was not bad looking, but, in brief moments of self-reflection, he concluded he might be
striking, but he was not particularly handsome. Was he the best in everything? He shook his head.
He was struggling to keep in the top third of the class. He was embarrassed at the end of last year to
find that he was No. 12 in the class and Harry Potter, despite all that was going on with the
Triwizard tournament and Professor Snape's abuse, ranked No. 13. And Potter ended up on the
Quidditch Cup team in third year.
And had he ended up with the girl of his dreams? Draco gave a silent snort. Pansy Parkinson? An
ambitious, boring little twit who had abandoned him at the first sign of trouble only to return to him
when she had no place left to go. And she wasn't even that pretty. But Potter had Parvati, who was
one of the prettiest girls in fifth year and who seemed to know everyone and be full of fun.
Was he gloriously happy?
Draco lowered his head. No.
Potter had it all.
But did Harry Potter deserve to die?
Draco slowly turned his head toward Wayne Hopkins again and saw him turn his head from
Hannah on his left to Susan on his right and smile. Hopkins shrugged and raised his wand to the
goblets and, with a sigh, try his spell again.
176
Potter didn't have a mother to mourn him, Draco thought. Or a father. But he probably once was
held in his mother's arms and was probably sung to in the same quiet, maternal voice of hope that
Narcissa had sung to him.
Draco lowered his head. No, Potter didn't deserve to die. He deserved to be taken down, punished,
humiliated. But not killed. Draco sighed. He was not his father. He knew that now. He would
succeed. He would triumph. But he would not kill. Not even Harry Potter.
***
It was not easy. There were Aurors patrolling the grounds as well as the interior of the castle. It was
now nearly impossible to slip out at night. But moving toward the Forbidden Forest in broad
daylight, or even twilight like this, would be risky. The headmaster and the Aurors had made it
clear that no student should even approach the Forbidden Forest, much less enter it. The only time
they were allowed beyond the low outer wall of the castle was during their Care of Magical
Creatures class or in the company of a faculty member or an Auror.
Draco knew he had a measure of freedom of movement as a prefect. And he could talk to the
Aurors. The bald, black one in charge was distinctly unfriendly to him. And the young woman
treated him like a particularly obnoxious young boy, teasing and baiting him both in subtle and
overt ways. The others showed some professional interest in his experience with 'his Golem,' but
otherwise did not talk to him.
Then he saw a possibility. Nick Giannis. The Auror was in his 30s and quiet. But Draco also knew
he was a Slytherin. Giannis was patrolling the Great Lawn. Maybe this would work.
Draco crossed the lawn and greeted the Auror.
Giannis turned and looked at Draco. "Young Master Malfoy," he said with a nod.
Draco blinked. "Master Malfoy?" he said in surprise.
Giannis nodded. "Your father has always been Mister Malfoy," he said in an ambiguous tone.
"You're not your father, are you?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "No," he said firmly.
At this, Giannis' expression softened. "Shouldn't you be out practicing Quidditch or studying for
your O.W.L.s?"
Malfoy shook his head. "Ravenclaw has the pitch for practice. And I study best at night," he
muttered. Giannis nodded and turned his gaze back toward the Forbidden Forest.
"What's it like to be an Auror?" Draco asked casually.
Giannis turned to Draco in surprise. "You interested?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't have any money anymore. So I'll have to do something. Something
interesting, I hope. And being Auror beats being a shopkeeper," he said as if he had just spoken an
epithet.
Giannis gave a snort. "Interesting as taking strolls around the Great Lawn all day," he said with a
trace of sarcasm,
Draco shrugged. "You don't do this all the time, do you?"
Giannis shrugged. "Most of the time, it's boring as hell," he said as he strolled the grounds, keeping
an eye of the Forest. "Some investigation...detective work. An occasional raid. A few real fights.
But mostly, sitting around waiting and reading, writing or studying reports on crime or Dark
activity.
177
Draco frowned. "Not exciting?"
Giannis snorted. "Your Professor, old Mad-Eye Moody, helped teach me at the Auror Academy. He
used to say that being an Auror was 99% boredom and 1% pure terror. The problem was that you
never knew when that 1% would happen, so you had to be constantly vigilant."
Draco nodded as he watched for his opportunity.
"You think I could be an Auror?" he asked.
Giannis stopped and looked at Draco. "Possibly. You have the grades and power?"
Draco shrugged. "I'm in the top third of my class. And I did well on my Stonecutter test. Flitwick
said so."
Giannis nodded. "That's well and good. But can they trust you?"
Draco looked at the Auror sharply. "What do you mean?" he said icily.
Giannis turned to look at him levelly. "You are the son of a notorious Death Eater. His Imperious
Curse excuse may have washed back after the Dark Lord's first fall. But he will not walk away this
time. Last time, Fudge was new and the MLE was old and sick. And the Justice Minister," he said
with a snort of disgust, "was greedy and ambitious."
Draco lowered his head in thought. "I'm not my father," he muttered.
Giannis looked at Draco. "Maybe not," he said softly. "But you'll have to be able to convince some
pretty skeptical people of that. Some people who have lost family and friends to Death Eaters like
your father and his master."
Draco suddenly felt his burden weigh even heavier on his shoulders. This was just supposed to be a
diversionary conversation. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much. "Is there any chance...?"
Giannis continued to walk toward the lake near to entranceway to the castle and paused a moment
before turning to look Draco squarely in the eye. "I don't think so. No."
Draco closed his eyes. What's the point, he thought. "I'm...I'm going back to the castle," he said
quietly and turned to leave."
As Malfoy had anticipated. Giannis turned and started walking quickly in the opposite direction,
probably in sorrow for his young companion. Draco silently ducked behind a bush near the
underground waterway that the boats always used when first years first came to Hogwarts. He
watched as Giannis lowered his head. When the Auror was 100 yards away and hadn't looked back,
Draco made his move.
After a quick glance at the castle in the dying light, Draco donned his camouflage robe and pulled
the hood up. Quietly, he made his way in the lengthening shadows and entered the Forbidden
Forest.
***
The creature looked down at his creator. "Tell me," it said in a rumbling voice.
Draco blinked, not a little fearfully. "What?"
The creature simply stared at him. "I need to know...what is life. I need to know...about the living."
Draco stared back, confused. "I came to tell you not to attack Potter or Parvati."
The creature continued to stare at Draco. "That is what I know. It is the only thing I know. I must
take your revenge."
Draco's mouth opened but nothing came out. He continued to stare at his creation.
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"I know I have a purpose. To hurt the two. And that I must survive to do so. But there are other
things I wish to learn. Tell me."
Draco looked anxiously around, then turned back to the Golem. "You can't. I'm not a murderer," he
whispered harshly.
"It is what I know. It is my purpose. And I wish to know more. There is more. You will teach me."
"No," Draco said, his panic growing. "You can't."
The Golem turned to look up at the castle through the dense foliage. "They tell you things up there.
They...teach. I must know things. You will teach me."
Draco looked up at the Golem. It kept repeating the same things over and over. Draco didn't
understand. And he didn't care. Draco had to stop it from making him a murderer. "You have to
stop. You can't...kill them."
The Golem looked back at Draco. "It is what I know. It is what I am. I must. You will go back and
discover. And then you will come back to me and tell me what I must know. What it is to live."
Draco's fear was now palpable. "No!"
The Golem reached out and grabbed Draco's arm. "I must take your revenge. Then you will teach
me."
Draco leaped back as soon as the Golem loosened its grip. "No, you can't!" He was suddenly
running. It was less than 100 yards to the edge of the Forest and the Great lawn. He looked around.
It was now dark. Dinner was probably well underway. He had to get back. He glanced around and
dashed toward the Whomping Willow until he was with its shadows but still out of its reach. He
skirted around its perimeter and, once satisfied that it was safe, ran to the entrance of the castle.
Stuffing his camouflage cloak into his hand-tooled leather knapsack, he made his way into the
castle and entered the Great Hall. He quietly cursed that the House tables were rearranged each year
and that the Gryffindor table was now next to the Slytherin table and that the seventh years took
careful notice of his late arrival at the meal. But, after a quick glance, they mostly just ignored him.
He made his way up to the front of the table and found his seat next to Pansy, who gave him an
annoyed look and returned to her meal.
He was back. He was safe.
But he knew he would soon be guilty of murder.
***
It was early, but not that early. Just six weeks ago he would have been wrapping up his run. Now, it
was still dark. He quietly pulled on his sweatshirt and leaned down to tie his running shoes. He
could get in a good 30 minutes and still get upstairs for a quick shower, and make it down to the
Great Hall in time to grab a bite to eat. In a week or two, he would have to find a substitute for
running in the morning. It wouldn't be light until well after 8:00 am, leaving him no time to wash,
eat and get ready for classes.
He ran down the staircases in his sweatshirt and gym shorts and was out the door of the main
entrance in no time. He regretted that he couldn't take the wide sweep around the Great Lawn and
around the Quidditch Pitch, but Professor McGonagall warned him not to go anywhere near the
Forbidden Forest, as that would be the likely place for the Golem to lurk as it awaited its next
victim. So Harry was stuck running around the perimeter of the castle.
Not that running around the perimeter was such a bad thing from a conditioning standpoint. It was
often uneven ground, with a drop-off at the start of his run past the Greenhouses, followed by a
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gentle incline as he passed the back of the castle, then uneven ground as he passed the sunken
windows of Slytherin House, followed by a straight run back to the entrance of the castle. Not the
leisurely run he was used to, and quite a challenge in the low light, but still, good to keep the
conditioning and stamina up.
He exited the main entrance and walked over to the left around the corner to begin his warm up
routine in the false dawn at the side of the castle.
***
Hannah sighed as she entered the Hufflepuff greenhouse. Since her breakup with Ernie and the
attack on Wayne, she had taken to rising earlier than her roommates. The main greenhouse complex
was off-limits to students during off-hours, but the Hufflepuff House greenhouse, which was set
against the wall of the castle itself, had two entrances into Hufflepuff House. One led directly to the
common room. The other led to the end of the corridor at the seventh year students end of the
house. So, if she encountered this Golem, or any other intruder, she knew she wouldn't he trapped
and could get into the house for help.
She really needed this time early in the morning to be by herself. Each student had a plot in the
Hufflepuff greenhouse to grow whatever they would like. Well, at least anything that wasn't
dangerous or on the banned list. And since most of the boys, and several of the girls, in her year
didn't bother, she had five plots together to grow her beloved orchids.
Hannah couldn't remember a time when she didn't love flowers. It was probably in her blood, she
thought. Her family ran one of the biggest nurseries in the British wizarding world. And while they
made a steady income from herbs and other potions necessities, it was their orchids that made them
rich.
Somehow, 25 years before, a few Muggles had discovered that the best and rarest of orchids could
be obtained from a small, out-of-the-way nursery in the Southern part of Surrey. And the Muggles
came. They would look over the acres of greenhouses and sigh, imagining such wonders these
greenhouses might contain. But they were only allowed in the first six greenhouses, where the
orchids were propagated and grown. They were occasionally allowed to look beyond, only to be
disappointed to see more common house plants, albeit of the more expensive variety. They were
never permitted to see into greenhouses 9 through 22, where the truly exotic potions plants were
grown. What would a Muggle make of a Mandrake?
So Hannah was busy puttering around in the Hufflepuff greenhouse in the false dawn, trimming a
plant here and checking the odd root system there, paying particular attention to her favorite
salmon- and pink-colored orchids, when she caught a movement from just outside the end of the
greenhouse.
Hannah quickly ducked down and made her way to the end, past the spare bonsai garden that her
friend and classmate, the plain and forever forlorn Karen Holmes maintained, and past the
decorative cabbages and mini squashes that a fourth-year named Cecilia kept, and peered cautiously
out of glass.
It was Harry Potter.
Hannah blinked in surprise. Harry was about 40 feet away, leaning his hands against the wall of the
castle as if he were trying to push it down. Slowly, he bent his back so he was hunched over. Then
he backed off and placed one foot on the wall and seemed to lean forward, stretching the muscles of
his left leg into a near split. Then he did the same with his right leg.
Hannah watched mesmerized. She had seen some of the boys in the house wander around in short
pants...in the beginning and the end of the term, these seemed to the Hufflepuff uniform of the day
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for everyone whenever robes were not required.
But she had never seen Harry out of his regular robes or his Quidditch robes. And his shorts were
ever so much shorter than the walking shorts the boys in the house wore. She marveled at how she
seemed to be able to see each muscle on his thin legs flex as he went through his routine. She notice
a faint dusting of black hair on the front of his legs, but little on his calves or the backs of his thighs.
She couldn't take her eyes of Harry as he continued his routine, twisting and stretching, then going
into a soft jog-in-place that slowly accelerated.
She had seen other boys' legs. Ernie's were thick and muscular, but soft in comparison to Harry's
lean, sculpted calves and thighs. Harry wasn't quite as tall as Ernie, but he seemed to radiate power
and vitality in his every movement.
She was totally lost in thoughts and feelings alien to her when Harry suddenly turned and began
running quickly past the greenhouses. He had to swing wide to get around the school greenhouse
complex so Hannah got to watch his form as it slowly receded into the distance.
Two more times she watched him as he rounded the corner from the direction of the main entrance
to the castle. She waited each time. But after three times, he didn't return. She finally realized he
wasn't coming around again and sighed. As she slowly made her way back to the common room, all
she could think about was how lucky her friend Parvati was.
***
It simply stared up at the castle. Somehow it knew that there were many answers within. It had so
many questions. Maybe the silver-blond creator could help him understand some of the things the
creature wanted to know. Maybe the creator could teach. It wanted to know.
But it also had its purpose. As it peered out from the Forbidden Forest into the gradually increasing
light, it saw the target running around the castle toward the entranceway. The target had run past
twice already. It knew it should have been prepared. It should have been waiting for the target.
But the creature had too much to think about. About how it came to be. About what its true purpose
was. About what it could expect once it had killed this Potter. About the meaning of it all. It
watched as the target disappeared around the corner and quickly run up the stairs to the entrance.
No matter, the creature thought. There would be another time.
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CHAPTER TWELVE "IS IT ALWAYS
GOING TO BE LIKE THIS?"
"So you're The Harry Potter," the young, blond Auror said with a devilish grin. "Kinda scrawny to
be a sex symbol."
Harry stared at her with wide eyes, but Janet McDonald, Harry's prefect patrol partner, began
giggling in the low light of the first floor corridor. Harry turned and glared at Janet. "What?" he
demanded.
Tonks joined in the giggling. "I see you didn't renew your subscription to Teen Witch Weekly, did
you," she said smugly.
Harry frowned and sunk into the chair behind the prefect desk next to the head boys' and head girls'
suite. He had met and talked to Nymphadora Tonks at the emergency prefects meeting a couple
nights ago and then had stopped and talked to her again rather than take an extra lap during his run
this morning. He thought she was funny and nice. But he was on prefect patrol. It was now 2:00 in
the morning and, with all that had gone on in the past week, he was not in the mood for joking
around.
Tonks turned to Janet. "Tell me, does he read? Or does he just walk around posing and stretching in
his skimpy shorts all night."
At this point, Janet burst into laughter.
Harry snorted in disgust. "So, are you going to tell me what you're talking about, or should I just
read my History of Magic text?" he asked in a sullen voice.
Tonks gave Janet a mischievous grin. "Should we show him? Or should we just let him sit there,
being his sweet, heroic, sexy self?"
Janet was now laughing so hard that it was a struggle to keep from falling out of her chair.
Tonks reached into her robe and produced a copy of the latest Teen Witch Weekly. On the cover was
a broad banner headline: 'The 10 Sexiest Wizards Under 25!' Underneath he could see a picture of
Aidan Lynch, the seeker for the Irish National Quidditch team in his Quidditch robes, some
entertainer named Darren Dare with long tangled curls and in sequined robes unfastened to show he
was not wearing a shirt underneath, and a picture of a smiling Harry, leaning casually against a tree
on the Great Lawn with his arms crossed, obviously talking with someone just out of the frame.
He reluctantly opened the magazine and stared wide-eyed. The entire page five of the issue was
devoted to him as "The Sexiest Wizard Under 25."
***
OUR NUMBER ONE HEARTTHROB: HARRY POTTER
Harry Potter, 15, is known throughout the wizarding world as both a fighter and a lover. As an
mere infant, he defeated He Who Must Not Be Named. And just two months ago, he again faced off
against the Dark Lord and His Minions and sent them packing, leading to the greatest defeat of
Dark Forces in 50 years.
But it is not just his heroism and power that led us to choose the precocious Boy Who Lived to be
our Young Man to Love. Harry has been known throughout his career at the Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry as one of the sexiest young wizards to come along in years. His name has
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been romantically linked to some of the loveliest ladies in the Wizarding World. Among those
whose hearts he has captured are:
* Fleur Delacour, the stunning young French half-Veela who represented The Beauxbatons School
of Wizardry as their champion in last year's TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts;
* Miss Pansy Parkinson, Hogwarts student and fair young heiress to the Parkinson Estate in
Staffordshire;
* Miss Hermione Granger, one of the most brilliant students at Hogwarts and reputed to be the
current girlfriend of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker extraordinaire and No. 7 on our list (see
below);
* Miss Cho Chang, Harry's rival--at least on the Quidditch pitch--as seeker for Hogwarts'
Ravenclaw House team and thought by many to be the prettiest girl currently at the school;
* Miss Virginia Weasley, a red-haired beauty and daughter of a ranking Ministry official, with
whose family Potter has spent many a hot summer night visiting;
* And his current flame, the sultry beauty, Miss Parvati Patil, of the Patil Imports empire.
But his fans are legion. "He kissed me once and I felt like I had been transported," said Miss Gina
Zabini, a fellow student at Hogwarts. "He may be from a rival house, but he is ever so sweet to
everyone," says the young Slytherin of the Zabini restauranting family. "What I like most is his
sense of humor," says Miss Millicent Bulstrode, a classmate of Harry from the Bulstrode clan,
Yorkshire. "There's no pretense there. Very un-Gryffindor."
Miss Delacour gushes over Harry's rescue of her young sister, Gabrielle, in last year's ill-fated
TriWizard Tourney. "He is so courageous. A real hero." Many witnesses report seeing Potter and
Delacour locked in a passionate embrace after the second task of that tournament.
Harry is a physical fitness fanatic, and the picture on the right can attest that his dedication has not
just paid great dividends for him, but will warm the hearts of all of his faithful admirers through a
long, cold winter. He also serves and a fifth year prefect at Hogwarts and is said to love dancing, a
good joke, and quiet evenings with the girl of his choice.
Harry Potter, as one of the youngest wizards ever to appear on our annual list, can look forward to
a long run as one of our Top 10 Sexiest Wizards Under 25.
Harry stared. There, taking up a quarter of the page, was a picture of him in a T-shirt and in his gym
shorts, obviously taken while he was warming up for one of his early morning runs at the beginning
of the term. "I'm going to kill Colin Creevey," he muttered and tossed the magazine on the desk in
disgust.
"Is he as great a snogger as he seems?" Tonks asked Janet in a stage whisper.
"Ooooo, he's hot stuff," Janet said in a trilling falsetto.
"Oh, shut up," Harry said, rising. "I'm going on patrol."
***
"I don't think it's funny," Harry muttered as he and Janet climbed the stairs to the second floor. "It's
embarrassing."
Janet giggled. "Oh, come on. I'll bet Darren Dare is furious. Don't you know that people like him
pay press agents a fortune to campaign to be on the top of that list?"
Harry sulked. "I don't even know who Darren Dare is."
Janet stopped short. "You don't? He's the lead singer of Dark Secrets. They're the hottest group
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around."
Harry shrugged with a frown. "Oh, them."
Janet gave Harry a softer smile. "Look, Harry, I think you're adorable. And most of the young
witches here do, too. But Tonks explained about how these things work," she said quietly. "You're
big news. You have been since You-Know-Who and the whole 'Lover's Showdown' thing."
Harry scowled. "We weren't doing anything," he grumped.
Janet smiled indulgently at him. "Like I say, you're big news. And having you on that list sells
magazines. Not that you don't deserve it," she said with a chuckle. "By the way, I had no idea you
were so...trim," now giggling furiously
Harry growled, but Janet merely laughed. "Face it, Harry. Everyone is fascinated by you. Or at least
they are for the moment. It's just something you're going to have to get used to."
Harry sulked. "I don't need this," he grumbled.
Janet continued to climb the stairs with him. "What did Parvati say?"
Harry turned to look at her. "I don't know. I just went to the dorms after my last class and went to
bed. I heard some squealing by some of the girls in the common room beforehand, but I didn't know
what it was about. I just put up an imperturbment charm around my bed and went to sleep. It's been
a tough week."
Janet chuckled. "Well, I've got a piece of advice for you. Stick close to Parvati until the uproar dies
down. Unless, of course, you want to go snogging with Pansy Parkinson and Gina Zabini."
Harry snorted in disgust. "Gina is okay, I guess. But I was trying to let her down easy when she
asked me for a date."
Janet chuckled again. "Maybe you are sweet after all."
Harry harrumphed. "But Pansy Parkinson?" He gave a shiver of disgust. "Not in a million years."
Janet sighed. "Just take care of Parvati, okay?"
Harry looked at Janet with a puzzled expression.
Janet rolled her eyes. "Look. She's just had her boyfriend made a target for every young witch on
the make in the wizarding world. So let her know she's still your girl, okay?"
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
***
Draco crumpled up the copy of Teen Witch Weekly in a fury. 'Sexiest Wizard, my arse,' the thought
in a fury. 'Potter and Pansy!' As if all the other humiliations weren't enough, now this.
He heard a chuckle from the door to his dorm. He looked up to see Theo Nott.
Nott had a satisfied smile on his face. Then he slowly shook his head. "Do what you want with him,
Draco. But don't kill him. That pleasure is reserved for someone else. And someone else would be
very displeased to have his pleasure interfered with by some jealous little boy."
Draco was breathing heavily. "Go to hell, Nott. I don't take orders from you or anyone else."
Nott snorted. "Maybe you should consider starting, and soon. The old guard is out. Our friend is
going to need new blood." Nott paused and stared intently at Draco. "And new leadership," he said
quietly.
"Ask your uncle about the joys of serving Him. That is, if they let you into Azkaban, or wherever
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the hell else they're keeping him," Draco snarled, as he snapped the curtains shut and flopped back
in his bed.
***
Ginny flopped back in her bed and sighed mournfully. "'Hot summer nights,' indeed."
"At least you aren't the 'reputed' girlfriend of someone you haven't seen in six months and haven't
heard from in four months," Hermione said with a wry chuckle.
Ginny turned to Hermione. "How are things over in your dorm?"
Hermione sighed. "Well, Lavender has been jumping up and down and bouncing off the walls
constantly since she saw the article."
"I guess that's why you're here," Ginny said with a sigh.
Hermione merely shrugged. "It was getting a little noisy with Lavender going on. And no way will I
try going to the library. At least not tonight." Hermione suddenly frowned thoughtfully. "I actually
had a third year girl ask me how Harry was in bed," she said in a quiet, wistful tone.
"Better not let Parvati hear that," she said with a chuckle. "So how is she taking it?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "I'm worried about Parvati. She takes turns between dancing around the
room and bursting into tears."
"Typical Parvati melodramatics," Ginny said in a sulk.
Hermione took a deep breath. "What do you expect? She's going to have to play guard dog over him
for months. Sure, it's nice to think you're going out with a hot guy..." then she paused, and took a
deep breath. "But, well, it was easier before this. Now...well, she's going to have a time of it."
Ginny merely grunted.
Hermione gave her a mischievous smile. "At least you got to be the 'red-haired beauty.' All I am is
smart and 'reputed.' The rest of the girls on that list were 'pretty' or 'beautiful' or whatever. I'm the
token swot."
Ginny gave out a giggle. "What about Pansy?"
Suddenly, the two girls started giggling together. "Typical pure-blood," Hermione said with a laugh.
"'Heiress' is the only word that counts."
Ginny chuckled. "A frog with galleons is still a frog, but at least it's a rich frog," she said with a
mirthful snort.
The two continued to chuckle as they lay back on Ginny's bed. Finally, Hermione turned to face her
younger friend. "So, what are the romantic plans for the 'red-haired beauty'?" she asked with a
smile.
Ginny snorted. "I'm still waiting for those 'hot summer nights'," she said in a sad voice.
Hermione shook her head in forlorn sympathy. "What about Colin?"
Ginny made a noncommittal shrug. "He's been seeing Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw."
Hermione chuckled. "She thinks he's weird."
Ginny suddenly sat up with a surprised smile on her face. "Luna Lovegood thinks someone else is
weird?" flopping back in her bed.
Hermione laughed. "Isn't that the pot calling the cauldron black."
Ginny burst into laughter. "Our pot calls our cauldron 'Tubby'."
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The girls enjoyed a good laugh. When they finally managed to calm down, Hermione looked to her
friend and spoke again. "Anyone else?"
Ginny frowned. "Well, I kind of like Neville. He's really sweet. But he and Moira are kind of an
item. She says he can be a little boring, but very nice."
"Who else?"
Ginny pursed her lips and glanced sidelong at Hermione. "You know, Seve Velazquez is nice," she
said in a tentative voice.
Hermione's eyebrows rose. "The Quidditch guy from your year?"
Ginny nodded. "He's funny and not bad looking. And he likes to tease me," she said with a far-away
smile. "But I think he likes Regina Bowen," she said, suddenly pouting.
Hermione blinked. "Who's she?"
Ginny blinked and gave Hermione an exasperated look. "She's the girl with the short dark hair in
my year. She's a reserve chaser on our team. Come on, Hermione. She's only been in Gryffindor as
long as I have."
Hermione's cheeks turned pink. "I thought her name was Ginny, too."
Ginny shook her head. "No. Seamus sometimes calls her Gina just to annoy her," she said with a
frown. "Hermione, you've just got to get out more."
Hermione lowered her head and gave a small shrug. Then she looked up cautiously. "No one else?"
Ginny sighed and got an evil grin. "Well, there's always Dan Turley."
The two girls began to laugh.
After a few moments, Ginny quieted and looked up at the ceiling, making a face. "Maybe Gilbert
Shore. Moira thinks he likes me. But he's a little shy."
Hermione frowned. Gilbert Shore was a quiet fourth year Gryffindor with no discernable
personality. She gave an internal shrug. Whatever.
She turned to Ginny again with a smirk. "Well, I hear Roger Davies is available. Lavender was
going on about a blowup between him and that Dunham girl in Ravenclaw. She said it was
something over Hannah and Ernie breaking up."
Ginny groaned. "Yeah. Now that Hannah's available, half the boys at Hogwarts have got their
hormones in an uproar. Jerks."
Hermione turned over on her stomach. "What about Dean?"
Ginny frowned and pondered. "I don't think so. He wants to go out with a black girl," she said with
annoyance. "He's got a real Muggle attitude sometimes. And he's been acting weird for a couple
weeks now. I don't know what his problem is."
Hermione sighed. "Maybe it's because Seamus and Lavender are dating now. Maybe he's lonely. He
and Ron are now the only bachelors in my year."
Ginny suddenly shot up to a sitting position and stared at Hermione. "What do you mean, Ron?
What about you and Ron?" she demanded.
Hermione blushed. "Ron and I are best friends. We're friends," she said defensively.
Ginny stared at Hermione. "You know he likes you, don't you?"
Hermione lowered her eyes. "I guess, but only as friends."
186
Ginny's stare became a glare. "He really likes you, Hermione. And I don't want to see you leading
him on or hurting him. Okay?"
Hermione looked at her friend with worried eyes. "He's my friend. I like being with him, especially
since he seems to have calmed down recently."
Ginny gave Hermione an annoyed look. "Listen to me, Hermione. Harry's with Parvati, okay? He's
not available. I understand that. Now it's time for you to understand that. If you like Ron, treat him
like a boyfriend. If not, don't lead him on. You got that?"
Hermione merely looked down, avoiding her friend's eyes.
***
Harry got into the Gryffindor common room by 6:15 in the morning. He and Janet had made three
sets of rounds that night, rather than the usual two, mostly because he preferred just Janet teasing
him rather than her and Tonks ganging up. He didn't know what to do next. Did he really want to
face everyone in the Great Hall? He wasn't sure. But maybe he shouldn't put it off. Just get it over
with. There were more important things to think about than some stupid article in a girls' magazine.
As he slipped into the dorm, he was startled to see Ron sitting on his bed, waiting for him.
"What's this about 'hot summer nights' with my sister," he said in a soft but annoyed tone.
Harry stared at Ron. "What are you talking about?"
Ron frowned. "Look, I know about these articles. I generally don't believe a word of them. I just
want to know where they got this stuff about Ginny."
Harry sighed. "It's all crap. Don't worry about it, okay? I'm the one who should worry about what
people are going to say."
Ron snorted. "Look, Ginny likes you a lot. I just want you to tell me you haven't been taking
advantage of her."
Harry sat down next to his best friend. "No, I haven't been taking advantage of her. I haven't been
snogging her on the side. I haven't been sneaking around with her. Heck, if I were, you'd be the least
of my worries. Parvati would Crucio me."
Ron gave a quick nod but didn't raise his head. He took a deep breath. "What about Hermione and
Krum?" he whispered.
Harry turned to stare at Ron. "I don't know. She said she had written him but that he wasn't her
boyfriend or anything. She probably hasn't even given him a thought in months."
Ron frowned. "So why did they bring the whole thing up?"
Harry shrugged. "Just rumors left over from last year's Yule Ball. Just to sell magazines."
Ron grunted. "I don't know. Where there's smoke, there's fire."
Harry chuckled. "Except in your case. With you, where there's smoke, there's effing ire."
Ron elbowed Harry playfully. "It's not funny."
Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder. "I don't know. Just talk to Hermione about this. I think that, once
you do, you'll both get a laugh out of it."
Ron frowned and then cast a side-long glance at his friend. A small smile crept around the corners
of his mouth.
"What?" Harry asked with an anxious look.
187
"Well, Mr. Sexiest Young Wizard, I think they used the wrong picture of you," Ron said, stifling a
grin.
Harry leaned back with a skeptical look. "Yeah?"
Ron nodded. "Yeah. Instead of wearing that T-short with the Muggle football slogan on it, you
should have worn your 'I'm With Stupid' shirt. You know, the one with the arrow pointing up
straight at your face."
Harry laughed and threw his pillow at his best friend.
***
Parvati had gotten little sleep that night. Lavender hadn't been much help. She had laughed and
teased and complained with a chuckle about how Teen Witch Weekly had overlooked a certain
funny, if somewhat bone-headed, Irishman named Finnegan.
Hermione had, surprisingly, been more of a reassurance, noting how silly the whole thing was and
pointing out how she had gone through the same thing last year thanks to Rita Skeeter and that had
blown over in a couple weeks.
But that didn't take away the fear. Harry, the sexiest wizard under 25? Well, she thought he was.
But she had to admit he wasn't even the best looking guy in fifth year. That would probably be
Justin, or that jerk Ernie. But Harry was definitely the sweetest, nicest, most wonderful boy she
knew. And now she would have to worry every minute that some witch would take him away.
In her anxiety, she felt a little unsteady as she descended the stairs from the dorms to the common
room. Then she heard it.
"Parvati?"
She looked up and saw Harry there waiting for her in the common room, smiling.
"Parvati."
Suddenly, she burst into tears and ran down the last few steps and jumped into his arms. He
wrapped his arms around her to the startled stares of the early-rising Gryffindors. As he swung her
around, he whispered into her ear. "Parvati."
It was all she needed to hear.
***
Harry felt nervous. He had no idea how Parvati had talked him into this. It was one thing to work
with first and second years, but now he would be trying to help people in his own year with
defensive spells, hexes and curses. Even McGonagall raised a skeptical eye, although Moody
simply slapped him on the back and told him to go for it. So he sat there in an empty, unused
classroom on the fourth floor and waited with his first two volunteer students, Lavender and
Parvati.
He glanced up at the clock, which continued to read 'Still too early.' Finally, he stood up. "Look,
why don't we get started. It's better than sitting here doing nothing."
"How many are coming?" he asked as he tried to adjust Lavender's stance for her shield spell.
"Hannah and Blaise? Anyone else?"
Parvati smiled. "I hope there's more. I'd hate to see what Teen Witch Weekly would do, knowing you
were locked in with the four pretty girls," she said with a smirk.
Harry merely frowned.
Then the door opened and the three Gryffindors turned and stared in surprise. Blaise Zabini entered,
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followed by Leah and Glenn Greinglass, Tracey Davis and Aubrey Blythe. Blaise nodded to Parvati
and smiled at Harry. "Hello, Harry." The other Slytherins simply looked around the room then
turned their attention to Harry with curiosity.
The door opened again and Hannah entered, followed by her four roommates, Susan Bones, Megan
Jones, Pamela Hutchinson and Karen Holmes, followed by Wayne Hopkins, Justin Finch-Fletchley,
Charlie Peoples, and Ravenclaw Michael Corner, who was dating Pamela. Shortly thereafter, the
door opened again, and the rest of the Ravenclaw contingent came in, including Mandy
Brocklehurst, Terry Boot, Su Li, Kevin Entwhistle, Padma Patil, Tony Goldstein, Peter George and
Paul Manwaring. They were followed close behind by Hermione, Ron, Seamus Finnegan, Dean
Thomas, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Rachel Weiss and Moira Duffy. Finally, Luna
Lovegood wandered in a looked around. "Morag and Amy wanted to come, but they thought it
would be too crowded," she said to no one in particular.
Harry stood there stunned. Kevin Entwhistle piped up. "Some of us working with the younger ones
figured you might need some help and thought we could also sharpen our skills."
Harry noticed that Ron, Hermione and Luna were nodding, as well. Harry sighed. "You know this is
just to help with what we've been learning in DADA with a little hands-on training and practice.
Nothing more."
There were nods all around. "Some of us don't have much of a chance to practice," Blaise said
quietly.
Fortunately, the classroom had no desks or tables to move, so Harry was able to form the students
into two lines to practice shield spells on each other. He was surprised at the difficulties some of the
Slytherins and Ravenclaws experienced getting the basic shield charm to work. He was grateful that
he had them casting the basic tickling spell, Rictusempra, rather than something like stingers, at
each other or most would have come out of the lesson fairly well bruised.
Harry also tried to help his classmates on an individual basis as much as possible where he thought
they needed it. But was somewhat disconcerted when, in reaching around to guide their hands in
demonstrating the wand movements for the basic shield spell, Tracey Davis, Karen Holmes and
even the tiny, quiet Su Li, each leaned back against him with a wiggle, breaking his concentration.
During the hour and a half session, he managed to get the entire group to try four basic shield and
blocking spells at least six times each.
While most of the students were practicing their shields, he also asked Hermione, Ron, Luna and
Entwhistle to test out individuals on the basic hexes against the leather-coated board he had used
with the Gryffindor first years. The four managed to gauge the strength of each student in six
different hexes.
By the time the group left, most agreed that it had not only been instructive, but fun.
Harry shook his head. Not only had the group enjoyed themselves, but most had gotten along quite
well. In fact, Glenn and Aubrey from Slytherin had gotten more than a little attention, particularly
from some of the girls in the other houses. Parvati whispered that this should have been expected.
Those two were currently unattached and the Yule Ball was coming up in a month. And Blaise had
gotten more than her share of looks from some of the boys, although she maintained an all-business
attitude except when talking to Parvati or Hannah.
Once everyone had pretty much left, Harry simply flopped down on the floor and leaned against the
wall. He was followed by Parvati on one side and Hermione and Ron on the other. Harry reached
over and grabbed Parvati's hand when Hermione grabbed his arm in excitement. "Do you realize
that we had 30 of the 38 students in fifth year here?" she exclaimed.
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Harry opened his eyes and blinked. "Really? It seemed like hundreds."
"Who was missing?" Parvati asked.
Hermione frowned. "Well, Draco, Pansy and Millicent," she said thoughtfully. "I'm sure they
weren't told.
Parvati nodded. "They weren't. And Blaise warned the others to keep their mouths shut."
Hermione nodded. "Morag we know about. And Ernie Macmillan, for obvious reasons."
Parvati and Hermione looked at each other, shaking their heads with expressions of disdain. Ron
leaned over with a puzzled expression, but Harry merely shook his head to Ron to keep quiet.
"Lisa Turpin and Steven Cornfoot..."
"Snogging," Parvati said in a tired voice. "They just started dating."
Hermione leaned forward to check to see if Parvati was joking, but saw she was leaning her head on
Harry's shoulder with her eyes closed. Hermione frowned and returned to her checklist. "That
leaves...Zach Smith. Hmmm."
"Probably thinks he's too good for the likes of us. He doesn't need remedial DADA," Ron frumped.
"Him and Cornfoot."
Hermione snorted. "Well, Padma and Su Li were here, and they were ranked higher than Corner.
And Zach was ranked only No. 8 in the class last year."
There was a sudden fit of laughter from the far corner of the room, startling the group. Luna
Lovegood stepped forward, caught her breath and stared at the four Gryffindors. "Silly," she
exclaimed. "Zach wasn't here because he's dating Janice Houghton. She's a fourth year Hufflepuff."
Hermione blinked in surprise and annoyance. "Well, I'm sure that explains just about everything,"
she said, rolling her eyes.
Luna shook her head dramatically, her long hair swaying behind her. "No, silly. Don't you know
why so many people showed up?"
Harry frowned and shook his head.
Hermione, on the other hand, rolled her eyes again. "No. Tell us why," she said with an edge in her
voice.
Luna tilted her head and smiled. "All the girls wanted to come to see sexy Harry. And all the boys
came along to make sure Harry didn't do anything sexy for their girlfriends," she said with a giggle.
"They didn't realize that it would be fun."
Harry groaned and banged the back of his head against the wall, but Parvati burst out laughing. "He
better not do anything sexy while I'm chaperoning," she said with a grin, snuggling under Harry's
arm.
Harry merely closed his eyes and sighed. He'd been up since 1:30 in the morning for his prefect
patrol, and had spent the entire day stuck like glue to Parvati to discourage fans of 'The Sexiest
Wizard Under 25,' for his sake as well as hers.
Parvati, who hadn't gotten much sleep the night before either, contented herself with leaning up
against Harry. "Going to supper?" she whispered.
"Mmmm hmmm," Harry murmured.
Parvati then seemed to lose herself in thought. She leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear. "Madam
Trelawney should be on her way to Diagon Alley on the 5:00 pm Hogwarts Express."
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Harry's eyes opened wide and turned to return Parvati's mischievous smile.
In the meantime, Ron turned to Hermione. "Want to do something tonight?"
Hermione turned to look at Ron with a disconcerted expression. "Uhhh, okay. We could go to the
library. We have a big Potions paper due on Monday morning," she said in a rush.
Ron frowned. "We could do that anytime. Maybe something else?" he asked hopefully.
Hermione turned away. "No. We have work to do," she said with an anxious frown. "I'll meet you
in the library."
***
"Well, I see our resident celebrity is back in front of the Bluebell Lights again," Snape said with a
smirk.
Harry sank down on his bench in embarrassment. Snape had eased up on his mocking of Harry in
class in recent weeks. But Harry grimaced, fearing it would now start all over again.
Snape then gave a puzzled glance to the students in the room. Pansy guffawed at the comment and
he had received a couple titters from Millicent and Tracey, but the other Slytherins did not seem to
provide their normal receptive audience for the Potion Master's barbs at Harry.
Snape frowned and turned toward the chalk board. He quickly chalked up the heading: 'Respiratory
Potions and Elixirs.'
He turned back to the class. "In the upcoming weeks, we will be covering potions used as remedies
and preventatives for various illnesses of the lungs, including common colds, the grippe,
pneumonia, choking problems, and various other breathing difficulties. Unfortunately, one of the
prime ingredients for many of these potions is in short supply due to an unfortunate
misappropriation that occurred last year immediately preceding a certain event in the TriWizard
Tournament," Snape intoned in a menacing manner, staring at Harry.
"This supply," Snape continued, "must be replenished before the end of the week. Potter!" he
yelled.
Harry jumped.
"I am sure you are quite familiar with gillyweed. I believe you and your young lady, who I hear is
somewhat knowledgeable in potion ingredients, would be ideal candidates to help your classmates
by procuring a new supply from the lake."
Harry blinked. Fishing around in the lake for gillyweed was a time-consuming and tedious task, and
Harry frowned in annoyance at being assigned the job. However, he bit his tongue, knowing indeed
that Dobby had stolen the gillyweed from Snape's supplies for Harry for the second task in the
TriWizard Tournament.
Parvati raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Patil?"
Parvati frowned. "Professor, the water of the lake at this time of year is extremely cold, making
gillyweed harvesting very uncomfortable, even painful. Plus, most of the lake is in the off-limits
area around the grounds."
Snape nodded. "Of course, you must keep to the protected area. Please, do not go past the outer
wall. As to your other point, surely you would not want for all your classmates to be deprived of
learning important potions that will be required to be brewed for your O.W.L. practicals simply
because it might cause you a small measure of discomfort? Where is your Gryffindor sense of
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bravery and service, Miss Patil?"
Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, reaching over and grabbing Parvati's hand in consolation.
***
It was a warmer than usual afternoon that day, so after their last class, Harry and Parvati trooped
over toward the entrance to the castle. They followed the outer wall perimeter all the way to the
lake's edge. Parvati produced two pairs of thigh-high insulated rubber boots and tossed a pair to
Harry.
"Here," she said. "These belong to Seamus. They should fit you. If they don't, they probably can be
charmed a size or two up or down."
Harry nodded and tried them on. They were the right length, but were a little wide. Harry tried a
quick charm and felt the boots conform to his feet.
Parvati then dug around in her backpack until she produced a pair of dragon hide gloves for herself
and a pair of long rubber gloves for Harry. She tossed them over. "These are Lavender's. They
should conform to your size."
Harry nodded. "You must have clothes for every occasion," he said with a chuckle.
Parvati rolled her eyes. "You boys are so helpless. No wonder you all avoid Potions Day like the
plague."
Harry laughed and started moving toward the water.
The lake bordered the Great Lawn almost to the entrance to the castle. From the low outer perimeter
wall, it was about 60 feet to the gentle slope up to the castle's entryway. To support this slope, a
stone retaining wall had been built centuries ago against erosion from the lake itself.
However, over the centuries, the level of the lake had fallen several feet. No longer did the gentle
waves of the lake lap up against the stone. Instead, there now was a spit of dry land between the
lake and the retaining wall ranging from about fifteen feet wide near the start of the wall in the great
lawn, to merely a foot or two of muddy wash almost directly below the long, circular drive where
the carriages picked up or let out passengers at the entranceway. This spit of land was about 70 feet
long. This gave Harry and Parvati about 130 feet of shoreline to troll for gillyweed.
"Well, let's get going," Harry said with resignation. "There's only about an hour or so of light left
and I don't want to come do this again tomorrow. For all we know, it'll snow."
Harry and Parvati waded out about ten feet into the lake and used branches they had picked up
earlier to move the other weeds around in search of gillyweed.
Gillyweed was not hard to identify, as it grew in thin, finger-like tendrils. However, it was the same
color as the other weeds in the lake, and usually was found in clumps in with other weeds, making it
hard to distinguish unless you looked carefully.
As the time passed, Harry and Parvati worked their way down the shallow shoreline, managing to
find several handfuls of the gillyweed, which Parvati brought to shore to put in a basket Harry had
brought for that purpose.
They were well past the border of the retaining wall, below the roadway level when Harry looked
up at Parvati. "You think that's enough?" he asked.
Parvati looked up at him, then looked past him. "Who's that? Is Crabbe or Goyle back again?"
Harry saw the broad figure jump over the outer wall and begin a loping run toward them. Then he
noticed with horror the dull red hair.
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"Parvati! Run! It's the Golem!"
Parvati began frantically to make her way toward the narrow strip of shore, but her boots kept
sticking in the mud. "HARRY!!!" she screamed.
Harry managed to wade slowly forward to position himself between her and the Golem, who had
passed the beginning of the retaining wall and had cut off their retreat. They couldn't climb the
retaining wall. It was too high and too steep. He thought briefly of some levitating charm to lift
Parvati to safety, but couldn't think of one that worked on humans.
Suddenly, he remembered Hermione's words. 'If direct magic doesn't work, use indirect magic.'
The Golem was now about fifteen feet away and seemed to pause at the lake's shoreline, looking at
them, then the water, then back at them. As it took its first tentative step into the water, Harry
yelled: "Incendio!"
A beam of light passed from his wand and hit the Golem's robe. There was a quick flash of fire
about eight inches in diameter, but the Golem simply brushed it and it went out. The Golem
continued wading gingerly toward them.
Harry was now breathing hard in his panic. "Inflamare," he shouted and a fireball erupted from his
wand, engulfing the Golem's robes in flame. But no sooner had the flames started than they had
burned through the robe, leaving the now naked, hairless, sexless Golem to continue wading toward
the couple.
Harry and Parvati continued to wade backwards, with Parvati continuing to scream for help, while
Harry continued to think furiously as the Golem came nearer.
"Petrus Liquefacare!" he yelled, and a beam of light hit the Golem squarely in the chest. The beam
of light seemed to shoot out the back of the Golem without effect. Harry them tried to move the
beam to cut through the Golem, only to see the original hole seal itself over instantly as the beam
moved on.
"Can you swim?" Harry yelled.
He heard Parvati gasp. "Not in these robes. And we'd freeze in seconds."
"I can't stop him," he shouted back.
The Golem was only wading in as fast as Harry and Parvati were going backward. But there was
little room left for them to go before the edge of the lake ran up against the retaining wall and the
bottom started to deepen.
Harry watched the Golem as the Golem watched him. "Parvati, while I fight him, you wade around
and escape."
Suddenly, he heard her start shooting stunning spells past him at the Golem, but they had no effect.
"I'll help you fight him, Harry," he heard her scream through tears.
"No! Save yourself!" he screamed.
"I've got nowhere to go! We're trapped!" she yelled from about ten feet behind him.
Harry looked at the Golem, trying to read any weakness in the creatures eyes....The eyes!
Harry raised his wand again. "Fluvius," He screamed.
A jet of water leaped out of his wand and hit the Golem in the eyes. It suddenly stopped and raised
its hands in front of it face.
"Fluvius Aspergere," he yelled, and the jet of water increased in force. The Golem was now waving
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its hands in front of its face.
"Coarctare," Harry yelled, and the jet of water narrowed to a tight beam. Harry narrowed his own
focus to force the jet of water out of his wand at an even higher level of pressure.
Then he saw it. The skin around the base of one of the Golem's fingers began to peel off, revealing
reddish clay underneath. Suddenly, the finger was washed away from the high pressure jet of water
from Harry's spell. Then another. And another.
More and more of the jet of water was passing through and tearing away the Golem's shielding
hands.
Then another jet of water started hitting the Golem from the side. Parvati was now about five feet to
Harry's right and hitting the monster with her own, if much weaker, jet of water.
Faced with water sprays from two different directions and unable to counter either, the creature
began to back away toward the shore. But Harry and Parvati kept up hydroblasting the Golem.
Harry vaguely noticed that he was now soaked with cold water as his wand drew more and more
water up from the surrounding lake and channeled it through his wand.
By the time the Golem had reached the shore, both its hands and most of its shielding forearms had
been worn away by the high-powered jets of water.
Harry noticed that he now had a clear shot at the Golem's face. He concentrated on its eyes and saw
what looked to be red tears dripping off the creatures jaw as the spray continued to eat away at the
monster's skin.
He noticed the Golem try to turn, but it stumbled. A quick glance down showed Harry that the skin
around the monster's ankles had puckered and there were small red cracks seeming to bleed red
clay.
Harry and Parvati now had the Golem backed completely onto dry land but they refused to relent.
Harry was feeling the strain, but continued to focus on the tightness of the stream of water. The
Golem's eyes now looked liked a mask of red as the water now was eating into the clay of the head
of the Golem itself.
Harry didn't notice Auror Werner Shaw suddenly leap over the outer wall followed moments later
by Lila Carpenter some 100 yards away. He and Parvati continued to concentrate on the creature's
face when suddenly, as its skin was nearly completely peeled away, something that looked like a
piece of paper flew out of its mouth, forced out by the water pressure.
The Golem, which still was mostly covered by skin, suddenly turned red and fell backward. By the
time Shaw and Carpenter reached the creature, it was nothing but a lump of clay in the form of a
man. However, where its face would have been, the clay seemed to have flattened into a muddy
reddish stream that slowly made its way back to the lake.
By this time, several students were running around the blind corner where the retaining wall started
to see if they could help.
Harry simply turned to reach Parvati and, holding each other, the two made their way, wet,
shivering and exhausted, to the shore.
***
MONSTER AT HOGWARTS!!!
Potter and Patil Destroy 'Golem'
A monster has been stalking the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But that monster is
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no more. The creature, identified as a Golem, a type of avatar, had seriously injured two students
over the past month. But it came to a watery end after attempting to attack students Harry Potter
and Parvati Patil. The two students, who defeated You-Know-Who and caused the arrest of four
prominent Death Eaters less than two months ago, used a high-powered form of a Fluvius spell to
destroy the clay-based creature.
The Golem apparently made its first appearance in Mid-October, attacking fifth-year student
Draco Malfoy. "There was no evidence at that time of the source of the attack as the student
involved did not recall the details," says Chief Auror William Masterson.
A second incident occurred last week, when another fifth-year student, identified as Wayne
Hopkins, was attacked in the school's Quidditch facilities. It was only at that time that the nature of
the threat was identified.
"We took several steps to protect the students, including instituting patrols of the castle and of the
grounds," says Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.
However, many question the adequacy of the protective measures. "The whole school was
terrified," says fifth year student Pansy Parkinson. "It nearly killed my dear friend Draco Malfoy,
but nothing was done," said the tearful girl.
"We are looking into the circumstances of the terror and will punish the guilty parties if there is
evidence of neglect of the safety of the students," says Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.
However, The Daily Prophet has uncovered a full report of the previous incidents, which were
passed on to MLE [Former Justice] Minister Amelia Bones who forwarded it to the MoM himself
last Thursday without any action being taken.
It has also been learned that Minister Fudge had raised objections to the posting of additional
Aurors at Hogwarts during the crisis. "It was simply a question of expense. We already have to
provide Aurors to Hogwarts during Hogsmeade weekends." However, the Daily Prophet has
learned that the Aurors guarding Hogsmeade are being paid for in full by the Hogsmeade
Merchants Association.
Golems are rare because they are highly dangerous and unpredictable to everyone, including their
creator and, until now, there was no verified means to destroy them. "Wizarding science owes Mr.
Potter and Miss Patil a debt of gratitude in showing us the means to meet the dangers posed by
such creatures," says Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' Headmaster.
The creature is believed to be the creation of rogue Death Eaters trying to avenge the destruction
of their master at Hogwarts...
***
Draco Malfoy crumpled the newspaper in fury. No, he didn't want to be responsible for the murders
of Potter and Patil. But he didn't want them lionized, either.
Was there no end? Draco lowered his head down to his desk and softly banged it against the wood.
Somehow, Potter had to be punished. He had to be shown as the fraud, the bastard that he was.
***
Werner Shaw sighed as he continued to wade in the shallows around where Harry and Parvati
defeated the Golem. He frowned. There were a couple Unspeakables up in a side lab next to the
main potions lab in the castle, trying to analyze the clay that once was a monster that terrorized the
school. And it was Tonks who got to be the Auror assisting them in a warm, dry dungeon. Shaw
frowned. He was embarrassed that he had failed to be there when the attack occurred. But he was
equally peeved at being assigned such a cold, damp task. 'Just because Carpenter and I were a little
late getting out there yesterday,' he thought bitterly.
195
Shaw grunted as he continued to look into the water that couldn't help but get roiled as he or Lila
Carpenter or Kingsley Shacklebolt passed through it. He didn't know what he was looking for, and
he doubted that Lila or Shack knew. But Shack insisted they look for anything that might be a clue
to the origins of the creature.
It all smacked of make-work Muggle ways, a punishment detail, he thought as he felt the mud suck
at his heavy boots when he tried to move. But Shack had insisted in no uncertain terms.
Shaw moved another few feet and thought he saw something white. He reached down and tried to
pick up the small, folded piece of parchment, but it came apart in his hand. He wadded it into a ball
and simply flicked it out to the deeper part of the lake so it wouldn't distract him from his search
again.
***
Parvati huddled against Harry under a blanket on the big squashy couch in front of the fire. She still
felt the cold and the fear she experienced yesterday in the lake as they faced the Golem.
She turned to look anxiously at Harry. He simply stared into the flames.
She gave a small frown. "Is it always going to be like this?" she asked quietly.
Harry didn't respond, but continued to stare into the fire.
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CHAPTER 13 GINNY AGONISTES
Parvati still was sitting in front of the fire under the blanket with Harry.
The squashy couch directly in front of the fire was a seventh-year prerogative, but Alicia Spinnet
saw Parvati shivering next to Harry on a corner couch and, with the approval of Fred and George
and several other seventh years, led the couple to the couch by the fire.
Parvati hadn't been shivering from the cold. She had simply been reliving the horror of the Golem
and the cold water of the lake. For once, one of Harry's adventures hadn't landed them in hospital
wing. But Madame Pomfrey had forced them to drink a potion that warmed them and aided their
resistance to illness from their ordeal.
Still, Parvati felt drained from the ordeal, even a day later. She had looped her arm through Harry's
under the blanket for reassurance as the two simply sat there in front of the fire silently. She had
dozed briefly, as had he. Surprisingly, no one had disturbed them.
It was now well after curfew. Parvati opened her eyes to realize she was resting her head against
Harry's raven mop. She moved it away and Harry suddenly woke up and looked at her.
Parvati gave him a small, sad smile. "Is it always going to be like this?" she said, repeating the
question she had asked hours before.
Harry turned and simply stared again at the dying fire. Parvati gave a small frown and sighed again.
After looking at the low flames in the fireplace, she turned back to Harry and noticed a tear had
fallen down his cheek.
"Harry?" she whispered.
But Harry remained silent, staring.
"Are you all right?"
Harry blinked and another tear followed the path of the first. "It's not fair," he whispered as if to
himself.
Parvati let go of his arm and reached up from under the blanket to stroke Harry's hair. "What's not
fair, Harry?" she whispered.
Harry's eyes never left the fire. "All of this."
"What?" she murmured.
Harry blinked again. "In my first year, I didn't know any better. It was all an adventure."
"Hmmm?"
Harry took a deep breath. "In my second year, I began to realize that life meant something. When
Hermione was petrified ... could have been killed. Then Ginny was taken. Life was so precious--her
life--that I did everything, anything, to protect her."
"Yes?"
Harry made a vague movement with his head, maybe a nod. "Then in third year, I thought we were
all in danger because of me. I accepted that the Grim was meant for me. But it was Sirius, not a
Grim. But things just happened and I found that I had to protect them. Hermione. Ron. Sirius.
Remus. Buckbeak. Snape. Even Pettigrew. From death, even if it cost me my life."
Parvati was simply staring at Harry. She knew only bits and pieces of this story, and longed to hear
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more. But Harry needed to talk.
"Then, in fourth year, the tournament. Cedric. Voldemort." He sighed deeply.
Parvati continued to stroke his hair.
"It should have been me, not Cedric," he said softly. "I would have traded my life for his. It was my
fight, not his. And he had everything to live for. I didn't have anything. Sure, Ron and Hermione
would miss me. Oliver and the Quidditch team. Maybe Dumbledore ... McGonagall would be sad
for a while. But I had to protect them. All of them."
"You're a hero, Harry," Parvati said quietly. "You're my hero."
Harry barely reacted. Instead, he took deep breath. "But this year..." He took another deep, ragged
breath. "But now...I have a real family, the Strowbridges. I have a lot of new friends who care about
me. And I have a nice girl who...who loves me."
Parvati leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed.
Harry closed his eyes, squeezing another tear out. "And still it won't stop."
Harry was quiet for a few moments. He now was breathing heavily. "I...I just want to live...a normal
life. To have fun...to play Quidditch and kiss my girl. To drink warm butterbeer and laugh at the
twins' pranks and argue with Ron...to tease Hermione and Ginny...and snuggle with you. I want..."
And suddenly, Harry's reserve gave way and he broke down.
Parvati found herself embracing Harry. Slowly, she maneuvered him until he was crying on her
shoulder. He was a hero, she thought. But he was also a fifteen-year-old boy. The boy she loved.
The boy she now knew she wanted to take care of.
But she was frightened. She realized that being in love, in love with this boy, meant more than just
dating and dances and feeling the thrill of his presence and the pride of having him on her arm. It
meant something deeper and, for a fifteen-year-old-girl, something entirely new and a little scary.
It meant sharing his pain, his grief. It meant accepting his weaknesses as well as his strengths. It
meant facing what came, for bad as well as good.
It meant growing up.
Parvati sighed. She pressed her cheek on top of his head as she felt his crisis pass and sensed sleep
once again come to him on the squashy couch in front of a dying fire. Slowly, sleep claimed her, as
well.
***
Rita Skeeter was angry. There was no reason to be. Not Really. She knew her name wouldn't be on
the piece. There was no way she could be given a byline in the Daily Prophet. After all, she was
now on staff with Witch Weekly, and Bernie Castle would have killed her for freelancing with her
old paper.
Plus, she got 12 Galleons for the piece, a Galleon per column inch of copy. Not that she didn't earn
every knut. Cyrus Jordan got her in touch for a rare interview with old Bill Masterson, who gave
her killer quotes and got her an interview with Amelia Bones. And their message had gotten across
in the story: That Fudge was a blowhard and that, if anyone at the Ministry and at Hogwarts had
failed in their duty, it was him.
And her anger wasn't so much that the story was so poorly written. Sure, it seemed to have been
patched together. Too often that was the case when more than one reporter was contributing to a
piece, especially at the Prophet, where copyediting seemed to be a lost art. She was surprised at
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how much of her material actually made it above the fold.
But what really bothered her was the byline. It read: 'By B.Z. Zorch, with bureaus.' It wasn't 'By the
staff of the Daily Prophet,' which was often used when a story was a joint or group effort. No, Rita
thought bitterly. She got the meat of the story. The hot quotes from Masterson and Bones. It was
she got the copies of the Golem reports. She turned on the light and saw who scurried into the
shadows. But Bozo got the credit. Bozo, who parroted the Ministry's party line, cribbing from
Fudge's speech and getting little but an innocuous quote from Dumbledore.
Rita fumed. He had out-Slytherined her. And he wasn't even a Slytherin, as she had been. He was
an innocuous wannabe from one of the small, no-name wizarding schools in the Midlands. And he
had outmaneuvered her to get credit for the reporting.
Rita Skeeter had always prided herself in knowing what was going on. And she prided herself on
knowing how to deal with the smart, the shrewd, the sneaky. After all, she had grown up with some
of the toughest, most cunning people around.
During her time at Hogwarts, she had associated with students who would become some of the most
powerful and cunning people in the wizarding world. In Slytherin, she was a year behind Lucius
Malfoy, who she learned so much about cunning and stealth. And she watched Narcissa Black to
learn the ways of pureblood society, their strengths and their weaknesses. In her year, she was a
roommate in Slytherin of Amelia Bones, who was head girl along with the Gryffindor head boy,
Frank Longbottom, two of the most powerful Hogwarts students in memory. They had taught her
what ambition and the judicious use of power could achieve. She had a first-hand view of the closed
world of the Brown clan as four rowdy Brown boys, two pair of brothers, dominated Hufflepuff
social life, showing her how to socialize without giving away family and personal secrets. In Amos
Diggory, she saw what a driving force intelligence could be as he seemed to rule Ravenclaw house
by force of his personality and native wit.
And she learned from the younger students, as well. She reveled in the rivalry between the two
black Gryffindors, Cyrus Jordan and Kingsley Shacklebolt, both a year behind her, where she
learned how to play off one against another. She saw how the notorious Gryffindor Quartet of
Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew, two years her junior, seemed to be able to walk on water despite
notorious rule breaking, demonstrating to her the value stealth, imagination and humor, as well as
their ability to become animagi on their own, a secret she believed only she knew. And she saw the
young brat Severus Snape blossom into brilliant, but potentially dangerous, young man, showing
her how to maintain an outsized façade to cover up a quiet, nefarious intent.
She had learned lessons from them all. And it helped shape her into one of the most feared and
fearless reporters in the wizarding world.
But her boss and mentor, Sadie Reider was right. She had gotten lazy. In the pas, she would never
have allowed herself to be discovered as an illegal animagus not just by Cyrus Jordan, but by that
Granger bint. She would never have allowed herself to be used by Fudge and his cronies as a shill.
She would never have allowed Trent Thompson, editor of the Prophet, to direct her reporting to
curry favor with the Ministry, the purebloods and the big advertisers, as he had for years. And she
would never have become a writer of 'robe-ripper romances,' as Sadie had called her reporting,
rather than do the work of a real journalist. And she would never have allowed a second-rater like
Bozo to take credit for her own reporting.
No. Sadie was right. It was time to get back to work again. Her taste for intrigue and nose for news
were sharpening again. Maybe it was time to be a journalist again.
She took one last look at her story in the Prophet. And now she smiled. They hadn't blue-penciled
her damning material on Fudge. Maybe it's for the best Bozo would get the credit...and the grief,
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she thought. She gave an unconscious nod of her head. She now realized she had a purpose, a plan.
And with the publication of the Prophet article, this plan had begun to be put in motion.
She sat down at her desk, and inked her heavy-duty eagle quill and pulled out a parchment.
Dear Minister Bones,
It's about time we got reacquainted with each other ...
***
Harry's sleep became fitful. In the past six months, he had suffered rarely from nightmares. Once
moving in with the Strowbridges, he had only three or four. Perhaps it was the running every day,
or all the yardwork he'd been doing during the summer that had relieved him of what had become a
nearly nightly burden.
And he had even fewer nocturnal encounters with Voldemort. Yes, one or two, maybe, and duly
reported eventually to Professor Dumbledore. But now even the Headmaster had begun to suspect
Harry of holding back what Harry knew wasn't there.
But, as Harry rolled over in his sleep, a familiar feeling of dread came over him. And the pain.
Harry frowned, feeling the pain in his scar. He opened his eyes to see an unfamiliar plaster ceiling
rose in off-white above him. There were decorative flourishes in the molding around the perimeter
of the ceiling. But as Harry tried to turn, he felt something pulling around his head and shoulders.
There was no pain, but it was uncomfortable. And it made him angry.
"Lucius! You're here. Prop me up!"
Harry could feel arms gently angle him up to a sitting position. He barely felt the pain at all. He
turned to look at Lucius Malfoy. He could also see another Death Eater, but couldn't identify him.
Then he could. Jude Travers.
He stared angrily at Lucius Malfoy. "So, your spawn tried to act on his own, to deny me my rights.
And with a Golem. Foolish boy."
Harry felt another stab of pain.
Lucius stared at him wide-eyed. "No, My Lord. I warned him. And a further warning was sent
through the Knott boy. Draco knows better than to take such an action."
Harry could feel himself enter Lucius Malfoy's mind, but images flashed by so fast that he could
only identify vague images of a frightened and compliant Draco. He also sensed doubts, but no
evidence of a plot using Draco. He did sense even stronger doubts about Travers in Lucius' mind.
Then he was simply looking at Lucius' face, seeing sweat suddenly matting the elder Malfoy's long
graying light blond hair.
"If not your spawn, then who?" he demanded. Harry saw a furious Lucius glance toward Travers.
He turned and saw Travers looking at Lucius as if a silent communication had just taken place.
Travers' hand came up swiftly to point his wand at him. He conjured up a quick shield but before he
could react, he heard it.
"Avada Kedavra!"
He saw Travers engulfed in green light, then suddenly stagger back and fall over dead.
Harry felt an adrenaline surge and a sharp mixture of anger and fear, as the scar in his forehead
throbbed. But the pain suddenly faded as he looked over at Lucius, who still held the killing wand
in his hand.
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"Lucius. Why didn't you use that on me?"
Lucius quickly holstered the wand. "No, My Lord. Never!"
He looked carefully at Lucius. The pureblood wizard now was sweating even more heavily. And he
could see the fear.
He nodded. "Travers was always a foolish one. Impulsive. Quick to kill without a thought to the
larger plan. But you, my dear Lucius, are much smarter. You always were. And you are loyal, aren't
you."
Harry could feel a grim, knowing smile form on his face. "Well, my loyal servant. Now is the time
to start showing how loyal you can be. It is time to increase the use of that fortune of yours to good
purpose."
Harry, the throbbing in his scar subsiding considerably, took a deep breath.
Suddenly, Voldemort paused. "He is here," he whispered sharply.
Lucius blinked. "Who, My Lord?"
Voldemort stared off into space. "The boy. Potter."
Harry felt a deep chill as he realized that Voldemort had sensed his presence in the Dark Lord's
mind. Harry suddenly felt dizzy, his thoughts going a mile a minute with no control over it. 'No!' he
thought.
Harry found himself close to panic when the image of a burning, screaming Voldemort in the
Forbidden Forest entered his mind unprompted. He concentrated on that image, listening to the
whirring noise that became Voldemort's scream of anger and fear. His scar began to throb even
more intensely. Then he heard a voice.
"I'm coming for you, boy."
Harry stiffened. Suddenly he screamed. "NO!! I'M COMING FOR YOU, TOM RIDDLE!!!"
***
"So, you were in his mind. You were Voldemort all that time?" Dumbledore looked at the
exhausted boy. "What else do you remember, Harry? Anything?" he asked softly.
Harry sunk his chin on his chest. "No. That's all."
"So the Golem wasn't Voldemort's idea?"
Harry simply shook his head.
Dumbledore gave a puzzled frown. "But he suspects young Mister Malfoy."
Harry frowned in thought. "I wouldn't put it past him," he murmured. "But his father insisted it
wasn't. I couldn't tell if he was telling the truth."
Dumbledore looked up in curiosity. "You couldn't tell? Or Voldemort couldn't?"
Harry looked up with raised eyebrows. "I'm...I'm not sure. But the Golem did attack Malfoy first."
Harry lowered his head in thought. "Could it be that it turned on Malfoy from the start?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Frankly, I do not know. I tend to doubt it. A Golem does not turn on its maker
easily or quickly, at least according to the literature. I do believe we must search up other avenues,
Harry."
Harry nodded reluctantly.
Dumbledore pondered Harry's story as he sat in his office in a thick, quilted paisley dressing. "Did
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you get a sense of what was going on with Travers?"
Harry opened his tired eyes. "I think Lucius knew Travers was going to try to kill Voldemort. How
else could he react in time to kill him?"
Dumbledore nodded. "And what was your feeling when it happened?"
Harry shrugged. "It was weird. It was as if I was there. I got scared that I was the target."
The Headmaster nodded and paused. "And what was your, or his, feelings toward Lucius after
Travers was killed?"
"Lucius is not to be trusted. He must be kept in his place for now. But he is needed. He and his
gold."
Dumbledore sighed. "Then he sensed you."
Harry nodded.
The old man settled back and closed his eyes. The two were silent in the Headmaster's office for
some time. Finally, Dumbledore opened his eyes. "He was trying to 'read' you."
Harry shook his head in confusion.
"He now knows of the connection between your minds. I must think about this. But you said you
felt dizzy, then remembered your most recent confrontation with him. And how did he react?"
Harry pursed his lips. "It was as if he was searching ... searching my mind. Then he was in pain. Or
so angry it was causing him pain. I know it hurt me like anything."
Dumbledore smiled. "And you countered his threat with one of your own."
Harry nodded vaguely.
Dumbledore tilted his head in thought. "That means he never got control. Interesting."
Harry sat there silently.
Dumbledore looked back at Harry. "And what about the room?"
Harry looked at the Headmaster, confused, then shrugged. "There wasn't a lot of light. Lots of
shadows. That's why I noticed the big round decoration, the rose on the ceiling. And all the
curlicues around the sides of the ceiling...the molding. It was really fancy."
Dumbledore leaned forward, interested. "Was it marble?"
Harry frowned. "I don't think so. It looked like it had been painted over lots of times. Plus, it looked
dusty."
Dumbledore leaned back again, a puzzled look on his face. "Most curious," he murmured.
Harry frowned. "Is that important?"
Dumbledore gave Harry a noncommittal look. "I cannot say for sure. Decorative molding is quite
uncommon in the wizarding world. Particularly things like plaster ceiling roses. Carved stone or
marble in plain or geometric patterns is more common among the rich, while basic plaster covering
support beaming is more common among the less affluent of our world. Unfortunately, our arts
generally do not extend to common domestic flourishes, as we are constantly rearranging,
expending or contracting the size of rooms. Such actions would tend to throw off the symmetry of
decorative molding. The expansion and contraction charms become much more complex when you
are extending not just dimensions, but finely crafted pieces of artisanship such as you describe."
Harry looked at the Headmaster with a puzzled expression. "Can't you just charm the molding to
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extend as far as you like?"
Dumbledore gave a half shrug. "You can. But it is an entirely separate charm to be invoked. Easy
enough with unadorned molding, I am sure, but with decorative molding, you have to imagine the
pattern in all its intricacy, extending to correspond to with the extended dimensions of the room."
Harry looked down and made a face.
Dumbledore chuckled. "There are no limits to what you can do with magic when you put your mind
to it. But there are some things that take a great deal of practice, patience, skill and concentration.
More than most of those in the wizarding world can muster or wish to bother with."
Harry gave a vague nod. "So you think it was a Muggle house?"
Dumbledore gave a thoughtful look, then peered at Harry again. "You did mention about Voldemort
having trouble turning his head. Was he in some sort of restraint?"
Harry frowned. "No. It just felt like his skin was pulling. Like there wasn't enough to cover him or
something."
Dumbledore opened his eyes in recognition. "The burns are still healing." Then Dumbledore
frowned and his face took on a sorrowful aspect. "He should have had the skin growing potion
applied by now." The Headmaster closed his eyes and sighed. Then nodded sadly. "We've had
reports that no one has seen Dr. Bradbury in a couple weeks. He had been at Voldemort's side
constantly until the end of October. Since then..."
Harry lowered his head in sorrow. "He's dead, isn't he?"
Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, that is most likely, Harry." Dumbledore paused.
"Now you understand the nature of our opponent. A good man who saved Voldemort's life most
likely was repaid with death. And the nurse who did not escape, no doubt, paid the same price."
Harry simply stared into the fire. After a couple minutes he stirred. "What was he going to do with
Lucius' gold?"
Dumbledore frowned in concentration. "We, shall see, Harry. We shall see,"
***
Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder in thanks. He felt he couldn't tell his best friend everything. But he
did feel he could unburden about the fact of the dream. And Ron was sympathetic as ever. Harry
gave his best friend a tired, grateful smile.
Ron gave him a crooked smile in return, but became uncharacteristically quiet.
The moments of silence stretched out to several minutes. Ron had given Harry a sympathetic ear
but now Harry sensed his friend needed to talk.
"You okay, Mate?" Harry asked with concern.
Ron made a face and took a deep breath. "I'm going to ask her."
Harry tilted his head and waited.
Ron was quiet for a few more moments. "I'm...I'm going to ask Hermione to the Yule Ball."
Harry blinked in surprise. He had a odd twinge in his stomach. Then slowly he smiled. "It's a month
away," he said softly.
Ron shifted uncomfortably. "We waited last year and look what happened. Krum jumped in," he
said with a scowl.
Harry gave a quick nod. "Yeah," he said with a soft chuckle.
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Ron started to nod, looking with an unfocused gaze toward the other side of the room.
Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder. "So ask her."
Ron started nodding again. "I think I will."
***
Parvati shrieked. Lavender squealed.
Hermione simply sat there, looking preoccupied. At least until her two roommates practically
jumped on her in the excitement. "You and Ron! I knew it," Lavender shrieked in excitement.
Parvati suddenly jumped up. "Hey! Wait a minute! Hermione, you're the first of us to get invited to
the Ball! Lavender, come on! It's time we went over to the boys' dorm to talk to a couple of young
men about their plans."
Lavender jumped up. "Wait. Let me get my wand. We may need to use it on them," she said in
laughter.
Lavender and Parvati both jumped up giggling and raced each other out of the dorm.
Hermione simply sat there and looked down at her hands wistfully. "But just as friends," she said
quietly to herself.
***
Minerva McGonagall hadn't expected it when she became and animagus. The text books she had
worked with were full of rapturous prose about the effects of transformations. But she was
surprised, nonetheless.
She was surprised that, even in her human form, some of her feline instincts remained. She would
occasionally feel things just beyond the realm of human senses. And, as she walked down the
corridor on the seventh floor, she felt it.
She still was about ten paces from the unused classroom's closed doors when she felt the charms on
the door.
McGonagall cocked an eyebrow. 'Students snogging,' she thought. But the charms were very strong.
She frowned. She might be tempted to pass by and ignore it. But the strength of the charms gave her
pause.
She cautiously approached the door to the classroom and listened. Nothing. A silencing charm. She
carefully tried the door. Locked. McGonagall frowned.
McGonagall slipped her wand out and probed the locking charm. It was very strong. "Alohamora,"
she whispered, and felt the locking charm try to give. But it held. McGonagall raised her eyebrows
in surprise and tried a stronger spell. The second time, she felt the lock finally give. She turned the
handle of the door and, after a quick peek inside, slipped through the door.
As she passed the threshold, she felt like she was passing through a curtain. Then the sound. It was
a wizarding wireless. Not loud. Then she glanced around. The desks were all arranged around the
perimeter of the classroom, leaving a wide open space in the middle. She grunted softly. A new
style classroom, with moveable desks rather than fixed benches.
Then she glanced at the front of the room. There, facing away from her and bent over the lectern
seemingly discussing something, was Harry and Parvati. McGonagall quickly and silently assumed
her animagus form and slipped unnoticed under a desk.
Parvati stood straight up. She was wearing her regular school robe, although it seemed to be
charmed to be more form-fitting, and now was slit up the front and back just past her knees. Harry,
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on the other hand, was wearing his school robe open except for the waist clasp and charmed to fall
only to mid-calf. Parvati turned to Harry with an exasperated look. "Tune it to WBC Three. You
know whoever plays the Ball will be a popular group. We had the Weird Sisters last year. Who
knows who it will be this year, but you know it won't hear it on Wobbly One."
Harry looked up and made a face. "I like Wizarding Broadcasting Channel One. They play a lot of
slow stuff. Don't you like to slow dance?"
Parvati gave him a smile, which she quickly turned into a frown. "You know how to slow dance.
But what if it's the Weird Sisters again? Or Dark Secrets? Or Ruby Rock? I don't intend to sit out
three-quarters of the dances just because my date can't dance."
Harry sighed deeply. "I can waltz. I can do that box step. I can do that other dance you showed me."
Parvati laughed as a new, quick tempo song came on the wireless. She pulled Harry out into the
middle of the classroom. "Come on. Jitterbug. Remember, hold your legs wide and swivel your hips
as you step toward me."
Harry smiled and approached her, trying to follow her instructions. McGonagall watched the couple
as Harry awkwardly tried to follow Parvati's instructions on the steps. It was only when they came
together and Harry swung her around or spun her that he seemed more coordinated and in control.
Then Harry tried to grab her for to spin her but she approached for a swing instead. They managed
to knock into each other, sending themselves tumbling to the floor in a heap, laughing.
"How can you be so graceful teaching me karate and be such a clod when I try to teach you to
dance?" she exclaimed in a fit of giggles.
Harry flopped on his back. "Must be the teacher," he said chuckling.
Parvati snorted and poked him with the toe of her dancing pump. "More like a great teacher trying
to teach a dunce."
Harry continued to chuckle. "You're not a dunce, sweetheart."
Parvati gave him a mock furious look. "I meant you!"
Harry suddenly rolled over quickly and grabbed her, tickling her mercilessly. Parvati tried to
retaliate amid her squeals and laughter, tickling and pinching him as the two began rolling around
the classroom.
McGonagall smiled to herself and was tempted to slip out of the room, but decided that her duty
was to interrupt the couple before things went too far.
She resumed her human form with a whoosh. "Ahem."
The couple stopped and looked up to see a stern Professor McGonagall, her arms crossed, staring
down at them. They quickly scrambled to their feet, Harry looking embarrassed and Parvati looking
annoyed.
Parvati gave Harry a sidelong glance. "Just helping Harry learn to dance...so he doesn't sit on the
sidelines with his date at the Yule Ball...whoever she might be."
Harry turned to stare at her. "But you..."
Parvati raised her chin. "I haven't been asked."
Harry gave her a wide-eyed look. He had teased her about who he would take to the Ball, but
assumed that they would go together as a matter of course. "But Parvati...we are..." he babbled.
Suddenly, he blushed. "Oh...Parvati, please go to the Yule Ball with me," he said in a rush.
Parvati turned back to Harry, smiling, both now oblivious to McGonagall. "Okay," she said in quiet
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triumph.
"Dancing lessons, Miss Patil, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall interjected.
Harry turned, blushing, and shrugged. Parvati simply gave a satisfied smile.
McGonagall gave the couple a barely concealed smile. "Rolling around on the floor? Not any dance
I've ever seen."
"We slipped," Parvati said, holding her head up.
McGonagall gave a curt nod. "Well..." she said, glancing around the classroom. "I think we can find
a more convenient, and more accessible place, for you to practice. There is a room next to the
chapel on the first floor. Perhaps a professor could pop in on occasion to give you some pointers,"
she said in a dry tone that belied her amusement.
Harry and Parvati looked at each other in confusion and consternation.
McGonagall simply cleared her throat. "Very well. Until that can be arranged, carry on with your
lesson." With that, McGonagall turned and swept out of the classroom.
***
Ginny sat in the common room. She and her best friends, Rachel Weiss and Moira Duffy were
chatting casually about their DADA class. But Ginny kept noticing Dean pacing restlessly around
the common room. It looked for all the world like he was trying to make up his mind or work up his
courage about something.
Ginny snorted. Suddenly, the Yule Ball was on everybody's mind. It started when word filtered
through the tower that Ron had asked Hermione to the Ball and she said yes. Then Lavender
practically attacked Seamus in the common room over taking her. She insisted that, boyfriend or
not, he had to ask her. Harry and Parvati were a given, even though he had teased her a bit about
maybe asking one of his other 'loves,' like Fleur or...Pansy. Parvati told everyone that he finally
gave in and asked her ... in front of McGonagall, no less.
Now all people could talk about was the Ball. Ginny frowned. She hadn't even had a date all term.
Who was going to want to take her? She frowned in a sulk, missing several questions from Rachel
and Moira before Rachel finally grabbed her shoulder.
"Where have you been Gin?" Rachel asked with interest.
Ginny frowned. "Certainly not at the Yule Ball," she muttered.
Rachel blushed. "Don't worry. It's early. You've got a whole month."
Ginny made a face. "What about you?"
Rachel blushed even more deeply. "Tony asked me yesterday," she whispered about her boyfriend,
Tony Goldstein.
Ginny smiled and gave her best friend a hug. "Not that there was any doubt," she said with a smile.
The normally reticent Rachel became uncharacteristically giggly.
Ginny turned to Moira. "What about you, Moira? Any prospects."
Moira chuckled. "Neville asked right after Seamus did. I guess he felt that, with all the other guys
doing it, he should as well."
Ginny reached over and grabbed her other best friend's arm. "You're so lucky. He's sweet," Ginny
said with a smile. But her smiles were getting tougher to maintain.
Finally, she turned to watch Dean. He was still acting like a caged tiger. Then Seamus came through
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the portrait hole and grabbed Dean, pulling him to a nearby couch where the Irish boy flopped
down. Dean simply sat down with an anxious look on his face.
Ginny couldn't quite hear everything they were saying, but she did hear mention of the Yule Ball
and her radar went up immediately.
Dean leaned forward in his seat, almost as if he had a stomach ache.
Seamus leaned back and frowned. Ginny leaned forward as if reading her text, but listened intently
to the two boys just a few feet away.
Seamus snorted. "Why not?" he said in a low voice. "Look, you've liked her forever. You wanted to
ask her to last year's Ball. And you missed out. So just do it. It's early. Maybe no one has asked her
yet."
Dean simply shook his head sadly. "But what would she see in me? And Weasley would have a fit."
Ginny's eyes widened. Could it be that Dean wanted to ask her to the Ball? It had to be. But then
she bristled. Ron had been such a prat over her dating. If her stupid brother had warned Dean off or
tried to mess this up, she would kill him.
Seamus shook his head. "Screw him. You're asking her out, not him. And if he doesn't like it,
tough."
Ginny's eyes widened. Was Dean really actually working up his courage to ask her to the Ball?
Suddenly, she felt a surge of excitement. Ginny had always thought Dean as the quietest, but also
the most poetic and artistic of the fifth-year Gryffindors. And he was a lot nicer than Seamus and
Ron, and a lot more fun than Neville. And he had a sense of humor, unlike some of the other boys
around.
And he was nice looking. He was dark, though not as dark as Lee Jordan. Dean was one of the
tallest boys at Hogwarts. And he had dreamy wide-set eyes with the longest lashes Ginny had ever
seen on a boy.
Ginny leaned forward even more.
Seamus leaned forward next to his friend. "Look, Dean. This is probably going to be your last
chance. If you don't ask her, you'll always wonder if it might have worked out. You'll always think
that you let that one chance slip through your fingers. So get up and ask her."
Dean was breathing deeply. He slowly raised his head and looked around the room with a frown.
Then his eyes stopped at Ginny, who had looked up when the boys' conversation stopped.
Dean gave her a warm smile and got up.
Ginny's heart started beating rapidly and gave Dean her best smile.
Dean smiled shyly back as he took the few steps to their table.
He casually leaned over and, giving another quick look around the common room, returned his gaze
to her.
Ginny was practically squirming in excitement when Dean finally spoke.
"Ginny, do you know where Angelina is? She's not on duty in the Head Girls' office so I thought
she'd be here?"
Ginny's eyes fluttered. "Angelina?" she asked in a choking voice.
Dean gave a nervous nod. "Uh, I need to ask her something."
Ginny just sat there, looking at him with her mouth open.
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Then Dean stiffened and stood up straight. "I've got to go," he whispered.
Ginny watched in shock as Dean walked over to Angelina, who had just come down from the girls'
dorms.
Ginny watched as a nervous Dean stopped Angelina and they chatted for a couple moments. Then
she saw Dean's face fall. Angelina reached out and touched his shoulder and gave him a light kiss
on the cheek. Dean nodded and gave a weak smile. Then the two turned, Angelina heading to the
entrance of the common room and Dean back to Seamus.
Dean simply stood there. "She said no," he said in a quiet, cracking voice. "She's still seeing
George."
Seamus snorted. "Weasley," he said in a dismissive voice, then looked up at his friend. Seamus' face
went through a variety of looks. At one point, it almost looked like he was going to try to say
something funny to break the tension. But finally, he simply stood up and took Dean by the arm and
walked him up to the boys' dorms.
Ginny lowered her head onto her arms and sighed. She felt bad for Dean. But she felt bad for
herself, as well.
***
Draco lay on his bed reading. But he felt someone watching him. He looked up to see Pansy
Parkinson in the doorway.
"Well, are you going to invite me in?" she said with arched eyebrows.
Draco sighed and reached over to his nightstand to grab his wand. He muttered a spell and the
invisible barrier to the dorm was removed.
Pansy entered and sat in the desk chair next to Draco, who remained on his back in the bed, hands
now behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
Pansy glanced at Draco. "Cronin Montague asked me to the Yule Ball."
Draco snorted. "Have fun," he drawled.
Pansy frowned. "I told him I was going with you."
Draco barely reacted.
Pansy glared at Draco. "Are you going to ask me?"
"Not going to wait for Potter?" he muttered sarcastically.
Pansy narrowed her eyes. "He's an arrogant bastard," she hissed. "But if he asked, I would have said
yes."
Draco gave her a disgusted look.
Pansy sneered back. "You know why?"
Draco looked away.
Pansy leaned forward trying to catch Draco's eye. "At least he's a man. He doesn't sit in his room in
a sulk whenever he isn't in class. He knows how to treat his woman, even if she is a slutty wog. And
he isn't afraid."
Draco's head snapped around to give Pansy a furious look. "I'm not afraid," he barked.
Pansy again narrowed her eyes. "No?"
Draco leaned back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "What do you care, anyway?"
208
Pansy leaned back in her chair, staring off into space. Finally, she sighed. "I plan to have children.
Lots of children. And I don't want them worrying where they are going to live, or what's for supper.
And they're not going to have to bow and scrape for their supper, like Blaise Zabini's family does.
Like Aubrey Blythe's family does. Like some bloody shopkeeper. And I won't have my children's
father hiding away in the house, afraid of his own shadow."
Draco grunted.
Pansy turned to face him. "So?"
Draco shifted his eyes toward her. "So what?"
"So, are you going to be a man?"
"And how do I do that," he said with a half-hearted sneer.
Pansy looked down her nose at him. "You can start by asking me to the Yule Ball. It will show
everyone we are still here. To let them know we are still the class of Slytherin House."
Draco leaned back again and sighed. "If you want..."
Pansy slowly leaned forward and gave him a tender kiss.
***
Harry shook his head violently, sweat flying off in all directions.
"Here now," Ron exclaimed. "Let's not pretend we're Snuffles, eh?"
Harry looked up and smiled at his friend. He shook off his practice helmet and hooked it on the belt
of his Quidditch uniform. "So, I've noticed how you've been working with the rest of the reserves
on set plays," Harry said with a small smile.
Ron shrugged as they two made their way toward the locker room for their post-practice showers.
"How are they doing?" Harry asked casually.
Ron seemed to slow down as he pondered. "Well, the firsties are enthusiastic and seem to be
picking up things in a hurry. Bowen seems to understand, but she's a little slow to react. And she's
got to work on her grip. Theo needs a lot of work in goal." He suddenly was quiet.
Harry stopped and peered at his friend. "And Seve?"
Ron stopped and frowned. "He's okay...for an arrogant git."
Harry frowned back and gave Ron a stare. "You know we've been watching the reserves," he said
quietly.
Ron gave Harry a sidelong glance. "Who?"
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Me. Angelina. Katie and Alicia, too. Whenever we get the chance."
Ron made a face. "Angelina has been helping us," he said quietly. "You, too, I suppose."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Young Seve seems to be making good progress. Maybe not on par
with you, but he'll be ready when the time comes."
Ron's face continued to contort in a series of concerned expressions. "Not as good as me," he said
softly.
Harry gave a small smile. "No. Anyway, he's left-handed, making him a natural for left wing, to
take Alicia's place. You're a natural center. Strong and powerful and knowing what you're about.
Seeing the whole pitch and directing the attack."
209
Ron gave a curt nod of acknowledgement.
Harry's smile broadened. "So I've been talking with Angelina. We thought maybe you should take
on some added responsibilities."
Ron's head jerked in Harry's direction, his eyes wide. "What?"
Harry simply shrugged. "Sort of like Captain of the reserves. Work with them on plays and drills.
Make sure they are in shape and following instructions. Working with Theo on directing the
defense. That sort of stuff. Being in charge of the reserves."
Ron blinked rapidly, his cheeks turning pink. "Really?" he gasped.
Harry gave a shrug. "Sure. You know Quidditch better than just about any of us. You've already
been teaching them plays and formations. Why not?"
Ron was now beaming. "Yeah," he said in a faraway voice. "I could show them a million things."
Harry cleared his throat. "But there is something," he said quietly.
Ron slowly turned his head to look at Harry.
Harry pursed his lips in thought. "Well, you've been riding Velazquez quite a bit. He's taken it all in
stride, but it isn't right."
Ron grunted. "Well, he is an arrogant git."
Harry frowned again. "He is not. He is enthusiastic and plays well. And when has he ever given any
of us any lip? He listens to you all the time. Does he give you any problems?"
Ron frowned and lowered his head. "Well...he questions some of the plays I tell him about, that I
want to practice."
Harry tilted his head in curiosity. "He doesn't want to try them?"
Ron shifted in place for a moment. "Not exactly. It's more like...well, he asks about positioning and
why the play should work and stuff."
Harry stared intently at Ron. "In other words, he's asking exactly what a good Quidditch player
should before trying something new."
Ron continue to shuffle nervously under Harry's scrutiny. "Regina never does that."
Harry paused. "Maybe she should. Maybe you should encourage her to ask questions. To clarify
things. To be more like Velazquez."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Please. One 'Snape' on the team is enough."
Harry shook his head. "I wish you would stop calling him that. You know he hates it, even though
he treats it like a joke."
Ron snorted. "Severino. Severus. Same difference. A couple of gits."
Harry grabbed Ron. "What's your problem? He seems okay to me."
Ron turned to face Harry with an angry look. "I don't like some of the things he says to Ginny. Did
you hear what he said to her after the last practice?"
Harry shrugged, a look of concern on his face.
Ron gave a disgusted look. "He offered to go to the girls' showers and scrub her back!"
Harry burst out laughing. "I'm shocked!" he exclaimed. "Where could he get such ideas...or did he
hear you say the same thing to Katie Bell a couple weeks ago."
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Ron's face turned a bright red. "I was...it was just a joke. George told me to say that to get a rise out
of Fred."
Harry gave a solemn nod. "Mmmm hmmm. Clearly much different from Velazquez getting a rise
out of you."
Ron gave Harry a confused, then angry look. "No. This is different. I don't like the way he talks to
Ginny. She's my sister and deserves to be treated like a lady."
Harry grinned at the annoyed redhead. "I seem to recall Ginny had an interesting response when
Seve asked to scrub her back."
Ron scowled.
Harry chuckled. "I believe she invited him to do so provided he come dressed appropriately for the
showers."
Ron made a rude noise. "She was just kidding. But he wasn't," he grumbled.
Harry smirked at Ron. "How could you tell? Was it because he was blushing after the exchange,
and she wasn't?"
Ron grunted. "I still don't like him," he muttered as the two friends turned and resumed their walk to
the locker rooms.
***
Severino Velazquez was thin and wiry, and was giving Ginny his best impression of a smoldering
look. At age 14, he was just beginning to develop an effective one. And Ginny had noticed.
Velazquez wasn't her first choice for a boyfriend. Of course, that would be Harry. But the more she
watched Seve, the better he looked. He wasn't as nice looking as Colin, but he also wasn't as short
or goofy. He wasn't as sweet and thoughtful as Neville, but he had an intensity that was attractive
and, yes, sexy. And he, more than any of the other boys she knew, paid attention to her.
She smiled at the thought. He was okay looking and actually quite nice and Ginny was
hoping...well, maybe.
He smiled at her and made his way over to the entrance of the locker rooms, that little wedge that
separated the boys and girls' shower areas. He was freshly scrubbed from his shower after practice
and his normally wavy hair was askew. But Ginny didn't mind. She preferred it that way.
"Ah, my favorite red-haired teammate," he said in a slightly accented purr. "My little Rosalita."
Ginny smirked. "Who is Little Rosalita? Can't be me. I'm Ginny and I do believe I am not a little
anything. I'm at least as tall as you," she said, trying hard not to chuckle at Seve's overly earnest
attempts to woo her. But she was also excited by the attention.
Velazquez finally started giggling at himself.
Suddenly, she saw he was a little nervous, something quite out of character for him. And she
smiled. Maybe he was going to ask her to the Ball after all.
He casually approached her, and she leaned back against the wall, giving him a come-hither smile.
"So, my favorite Ginny. Are you going to the Yule Ball?"
She smiled a little more broadly and cocked her eyebrow. "It depends on who asks me," she said in
a low voice.
Seve was now right next to her. He put on hand up against the wall next to her and leaned toward
her with a smile. "Well, maybe..."
211
He never got a chance to finish as he felt a strong pair of hands grab his robe from behind and yank
him back, causing him to tumble awkwardly in a heap.
"You stay away from my sister!" Ron said harshly.
Velazquez looked up furiously at a sweaty Ron who had just arrived in the locker room area after
his chat with Harry. Harry suddenly grabbed Ron and backed him against the wall. But Ron
squirmed away and pointed at the young chaser. "You keep your distance!"
"RON!!!" Ginny shouted.
Suddenly, most of the members of the Gryffindor team ran out of their respective locker areas to see
what the commotion was about.
Velazquez continued to look up at Ron with a furious expression. "I don't need this crap!" he
shouted.
By now, Ginny was being restrained by Katie and Angelina from pummeling Ron, while Harry had
a hold of Ron.
Velazquez simply got up and held his head high, glaring at Ron, then glancing angrily at Ginny. "So
be it," he muttered in Ginny's direction. As he turned to leave the locker room area, he noticed
Regina Bowen looking at him with concern. He gave her a knowing smile. "Ah, fair Regina. Would
you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?"
Regina's eyes went wide. "Really?" she gasped.
Velazquez suddenly tilted his head and looked at her, seeing the surprise and delight on her face.
And his smile, which seemed almost predatory, quickly warmed. "Yes, Regina. I would love for
you to go with me."
Regina's face split into a wide grin. "Sure. I'd love to go with you."
Seve looked at her carefully. She was pretty. Perhaps not as pretty as Ginny. And she was quiet,
contrasting with the lively Ginny. But she was sweet. Seve now smiled broadly at Regina. They
would have fun together. And he wouldn't have to constantly look over his shoulder for Ron.
'To hell with Ginny,' Seve thought as he held out his arm to Regina, who took it with a giggle. The
couple paraded out of the locker area on their way back to the castle.
Ron watched Velazquez and Bowen walk away with a smug feeling. At least Seve wouldn't be
bothering Ginny anymore, he thought. So preoccupied was Ron that he never saw Ginny's fist
coming.
"You bastard," Ginny hissed through her tears as Ron doubled over from her fist to his midsection.
Ron felt Ginny grab two fists full of his hair as she leaped on top of him. "That was supposed to be
me going to the Ball with him," she hissed in Ron's ear as she felt arms grab her and pull her off her
brother. "I'll get you, Ron. I'll get you for this!" she screamed, as Katie and Angelina hauled her
back to the girls' section of the locker rooms.
Harry grabbed his best friend and hoisted him back to his feet, perhaps a little more roughly than
would be expected. "Leave her alone," he whispered to Ron. "You've got to learn to leave her
alone."
Ron leaned against the wall to catch his breath. "She's...my sister."
"Shut up, you stupid arse," Ron heard Fred mutter angrily.
Ron looked up to see identical furious faces as his brothers turned and left.
Ron turned to his friend. "Harry?"
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Harry gave Ron a sorrowful look. "I'd stay out of Ginny's way for a while," he said sadly.
Ron lowered his head. "I was just trying to...well...protect her. How long?"
Harry gave a rueful chuckle. "How about until after she's married."
***
Harry looked over at the stacks of old trunks and gave a guilty shiver. He still had Richard Burton's
trunk. He had managed to learn the spell to shrink it on a more-or-less permanent basis and hide it
in his own trunk for several weeks. Then he asked Moody about the ex-Aurors's trunk.
Moody frowned, remembering of how he had been trapped under a powerful enchantment in one of
his trunk's compartments for nearly the entire school year last year.
But that trunk had made a great impression on Harry. It had seven keyholes, each opening up a
different full-sized trunk within the same basic trunk frame. It was like having seven trunks in the
space of one.
Moody nodded. He pointed out that there was a place in Hogsmeade where Harry might one. So
during the last Hogsmeade weekend, Harry managed to talk the owner of Oddities, a second-hand
store, to part with the only one available, an old, used trunk, for eighteen Galleons. Ron gasped at
the price and Parvati gave Harry a skeptical look, but Hermione simply nodded knowingly. "I could
use one of them, myself," she told Harry.
So now Richard Burton's trunk, slightly shrunk, resided as trunk No. 4 in his new multi-trunk.
But Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. He hadn't really ever stolen anything before. Well, he did
remember getting caught trying to steal a spoonful of ice cream from the ice box at the Dursleys
when he was seven, and got a sound thrashing with the belt and the permanent reputation as a thief
from his aunt and uncle. After all, he wasn't allowed desserts.
All those memories came flooding back whenever he looked at the trunk or came to Fluffy's room
on the third floor. He took a deep breath. Maybe, now that the Aurors were gone after the
destruction of the Golem and the prefect patrols had been cut back to normal hours, he could return
the trunk without fear of getting caught. But not yet, There was just too much to learn from Burton's
notebooks.
He resumed his pacing as he waited for the young students to arrive. He didn't know how many
would show up. After all, last week, there had been eleven Hufflepuffs, eight Ravenclaws and four
Slytherins--Gina Zabini and the three roommates she hung out with--along with a dozen or so of his
own Gryffindors. And, after the success he had with the fifth years, he wouldn't be surprised if it
was a big crowd. He watched Hermione and Ron set up the leather-coated testing board and sighed.
Then he looked up to see Ernie Macmillan walk in and, after looking around nervously, approach
him. "Hey, Harry," he said softly.
Harry nodded. Ernie was looking haggard. He should, Harry thought.
Ernie gave a small, uncertain smile. "I didn't know if you still wanted me to help."
Harry sighed. "Sure. I could use all the help I can get."
Ernie nodded curtly. "Thanks," he said quietly, and went to turn away. Then he turned back. "I
know I screwed up, okay. I ..." Then he turned away again and walked over to Hermione and Ron to
see what else needed to be done to set up.
Parvati glided up next to Harry. "What was that?" she whispered harshly.
Harry shrugged. "He said he screwed up."
213
Parvati snorted. "The man is always the last to realize it. Especially when it's his fault."
Harry blinked, but didn't have time to think about it as the Ravenclaw contingent came in, led by
Kevin Entwhistle and Mandy Brocklehurst.
"What?" Harry said wide-eyed.
Entwhistle gave him a crooked smile. "We're all here."
"All?" Parvati said in shock.
Mandy nodded. "Well, we've got one of the third-year girls in the hospital wing, but otherwise,
we're all here. First through fourth years."
Harry continued to stare. There were 41 Ravenclaws in Fluffy's room, including Kevin and Mandy.
Mandy pulled Harry aside and gave him a smile. "There's some sixth and seventh years who were
put out that they weren't invited."
Harry looked startled. "But why...all of them?" he said sweeping his hand around the room.
Mandy gave a half shrug. "Well, they figure it will help them with the studies and grades...and they
heard it's fun."
As the young Ravenclaws were milling around, they noticed young students from the other houses
peer in and enter. Harry watched as some simply nodded to each other, while others greeted each
other warmly, or, in some of the younger boys' cases, bump up against each other playfully.
He also discovered there were about 15 Slytherins. Most clustered together, but three or four
greeted classmates from other houses cautiously. Harry sighed. This was going to be impossible.
Fluffy's room was big. But there were now 102 young students there and only Harry, Parvati, Ron,
Kevin, Mandy, Morag, Ernie, an annoyed Hannah, Amy Hattan and Luna Lovegood to supervise.
Once again, Harry decided to start with shielding spells, but had to explain to the younger students
the Rictusempra spell to be used as the offensive spell to guard against. He sighed and cautioned
them all against using the charms and hexes against each other if they wished to continue with the
lessons.
Finally, he decided to start off with a demonstration. He looked around the room and smiled.
"Luna?"
Luna Lovegood had cornered Harry after the first meeting with the young people, and had
numerous suggestions about teaching the younger students about shields. Harry had to smile at her
enthusiasm.
"Want to help demonstrate some shielding charms we talked about?"
Luna smiled broadly and nodded enthusiastically, nearly dislodging her wand which was poked into
her hair behind her right ear.
Harry gave her a broad smile in return. "Rictusempra? Use whatever you like to block it."
Again, Luna nodded vigorously and removed her wand.
Harry made sure he had everyone's attention as he positioned Luna down at the end of the large
room. He turned to the large group of wide-eyed young students. "There are any number of ways to
shield yourself from a curse or a spell. Last week, for those of you who were here, we began
demonstrating the basic shield charm. But remember, the easiest and most effective way to avoid
being cursed is to avoid the confrontation that would lead to getting yourself cursed. If necessary, to
run away from a stronger opponent. Got that?"
214
There were nods from most of the students, but some of the boys seemed to frown or scowl
defiantly.
Harry rolled his eyes at the posturing of the pre-teen and young teen boys.
"Okay, as I said, there are all kinds of shield spells," Harry said to the group. "Luna here is going to
show some ways to protect yourself.
He turned to Luna, who was about 30 feet away. He pulled out his wand and held it in front of him
and got ready to cast the spell. He noted that Luna was holding her wand casually in front of her.
"Aren't you doing it wrong?" came a voice from the crowd.
Harry blinked and turned. "How is it wrong?" he said with a puzzled look.
A third-year boy, likely a Slytherin considering he was in with a group of third-year Slytherin girls
including Gina Zabini, stepped forward. He looked nervously around. "Uhhh...I was taught that
you're supposed to hold your wand high like this." The boy then turned sideways and held his wand
high over his head in an elaborately stylized dueling pose.
Harry gave a small smile and shook his head. "That's okay for formal competitive duels. But we are
talking about defending yourself against opponents who don't play by the rules," he said
indulgently. "I know of one professor here who has practiced the 'quick draw' of the wand."
The Slytherin boy's eyes grew wide. "What's that?"
Harry pocketed his wand. Then, in a single motion drew out his wand in a motion almost as quick
as Snape and quietly uttered a charm. The Slytherin boy's hair suddenly began growing at a rapid
rate, obscuring his eyes.
Many of the students burst into laughter. After Harry uttered the Finite Incantatum spell, and the
boy's hair returned to normal, even he gave an amazed smile.
Harry cast his gaze around the group. "That is something you all can practice on your own. Simply
concentrate on how quickly you can draw your wand," he said with a smile. He noted with
amusement several of the young Ravenclaws pull out portable slates and mark his advice down.
Smiling, he turned back to Luna. "Are you ready?"
Once again, Luna smiled and nodded.
Harry once again pulled out his wand. "Rictusempra," he cried.
The spell wasn't even out of his mouth when suddenly a group of trunks from the corner of the
room appeared in front of Luna. He saw his spell splash harmlessly in a shower of pale lavender
against the third trunk in the stack.
Harry blinked and blushed. He hadn't expected this response to his spell, and the trunks reminded
him of his own guilt about 'borrowing' Richard Burton's trunk. He shook his head sadly and turned
to Luna, who now was peering with a smile around the stack of trunks, raising her eyebrows. Then
he turned back to the younger students, as well as some of the older ones who were helping Harry
teach. Ernie, Ron, Hannah and Morag were staring in surprise. Kevin Entwhistle was looking
thoughtful. Hermione and Mandy Brocklehurst were looking annoyed. But Parvati and Amy Hattan
were laughing uproariously.
Harry cleared his throat and the students slowly turned their attention back to him. "That's one way
to shield against a curse. It's a little advanced for most of you. But it does show that sometimes, the
best defense against a curse is to let something else take the brunt of it."
Harry looked back at Luna, then at the stack of trunks. He had never thought of using Charms or
215
Transfiguration in defense. Maybe it was time to pay a little more attention in those classes, he
thought.
Somehow, the lessons went over well, and at the end of the second hour, most students were
giggling or laughing not just from the Rictusempra spells, but from the fun they had.
At the end, Harry slumped against Parvati, tired. But this time, it was a 'good' tired.
***
Professor McGonagall frowned and peered over her glasses. "I will consult with the headmaster, but
I do not see any grave difficulties."
Harry gave a nervous smile, then nodded. "Thank you, professor."
***
The aged Headmaster frowned. "I think this is a very bad idea, Minerva."
McGonagall scowled. "And why not, Albus?"
Dumbledore frowned. "First of all, there are security concerns. Currently, there are only seven of us
who know where Harry lives."
McGonagall snorted. "Not counting the Weasleys and Miss Granger."
Dumbledore frowned. "Yes, they do, I suppose."
McGonagall continued to scowl. "Of course they do. The four Weasley children and Hermione
were all in that automobile when he was picked up during the summer."
Dumbledore templed his fingers in front of his face. "Troubling," he said absently.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "There never seemed to be a problem with their knowing where he
lived when he was with those horrid people, the Dursleys" she said sharply.
Dumbledore shifted with a far-away look in his eyes. "They were his friends. And Arthur and Molly
could be trusted."
McGonagall gave the Headmaster a severe look. "And Miss Patil is not his friend?"
Dumbledore sighed. "It would have been so much easier had he taken up with Miss Granger. She is
quite the mature and level-headed young witch. Miss Patil is so...impetuous."
McGonagall glared at Dumbledore. "And you would control the dictates of Mr. Potter's heart?"
The Headmaster frowned.
McGonagall stared at him. "I will grant you, Miss Patil is not as studious as Miss Granger. I, too,
think that Harry and Hermione would be a better match. But he has come out of his shell since he
has been seeing Parvati, something I don't know would have happened with Hermione. He has
grown in confidence and shown evidence of leadership we have not seen in the past. In many ways,
I think Miss Patil has been good for him. Better, I think, than you credit her with."
Dumbledore frowned again. "But is all this independence such a good thing? We need him. What
we don't need is him becoming difficult at inopportune times."
McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps if we took a more active interest in him early on in his
life, we would not be faced with this problem...of trust."
The Headmaster closed his eyes in sorrow. "I believed it to be the wisest course at the time. I never
thought he would be harmed...would suffer. I had his best interests in mind."
McGonagall simply nodded, a stern look on her face.
216
Dumbledore sighed and looked down pensively. "What would you suggest, Minerva?"
McGonagall gave a curt nod. "That we allow him to spend the Christmas holidays as he requested.
He has been invited to spend four days at the Patils. Let him. Then allow Harry and Parvati spend
four days with the Strowbridges. Then she will return to spend the rest of her holiday at her home,
as will he at his home," she said, emphasizing the last two words.
Dumbledore closed his eyes and frowned. "I dislike it. If he insists, arrangements can be made, I
suppose. However, I do wish he would agree to stay with a wizarding family, and spend Christmas
here."
McGonagall scowled once more. "He will be safe. Miss Patil's brother will be there. He is an Auror
and can handle security and the Patils proved when they were here to be most competent in their
defensive skills. And once at Mr. Potter's foster parents, he will be safe. But even more important,
he will be happy. It's the least we owe him."
Dumbledore nodded, and McGonagall rose and left.
***
"Hey Black! Buy you a firewhiskey?"
Sirius looked up from the drink he had been nursing for the past 20 minutes. He turned a shaggy
head and looked with gimlet eyes at the wizard addressing him. "Schmoo?"
Samuel 'Schmoo' Baker was just another of the lowlifes that Sirius and Shane Patil kept running
across in their travels from dive to dive in Knockturn Alley while spying for the Order. Sirius had
actually seen a drunken Schmoo get banned from The Empty Vessel, another Knockturn Alley dive,
for fighting and brandishing his wand a couple weeks before. All the better for Schmoo as he
seemed to owe half the people at that bar half a year's pay, Sirius thought.
Sirius appeared to be alone here in the Tabula Rasa bar, having not worked with Shane since his
lecture from Shane's sister Lakshmi. And now Schmoo was suddenly glad-handing. 'Shane would
have loved this,' Sirius thought as he cocked an eyebrow at the scruffy young wizard. "You buying
for a change?"
Schmoo frowned, then smiled knowingly. "I owe you a couple."
Sirius snorted. "Couple dozen is more like it," he said with a wry grin.
Schmoo suddenly slapped Sirius on the back and grinned. "Those days are over," he said in a low,
conspiratorial voice. "I've got a new gig."
Sirius gave the painfully thin, dark-haired wizard a skeptical look. Then he frowned. "Selling
frogs?" he whispered.
Schmoo slowly shook his head. "No drugs, man. I'm in with powerful people now."
Sirius narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and took a quick look around the bar. He leaned forward to
whisper to the young man. "You're not selling out to the Ministry. To the bloody Aurors, are you?"
Schmoo stepped back and shook his head rapidly. "Never," he said quietly, at least for him. "I'd
never sell out to the Red Robes."
Sirius stared intently at Schmoo. "What?"
Schmoo looked back and forth down the bar to make sure no one was in earshot. All he saw was a
scruffy looking wizard in a worn robe sitting at the end of the bar. He then leaned forward toward
Sirius. "You got a dark past, I know," he said.
Sirius ignored the vague smell of firewhiskey on Schmoo's breath. He shrugged vaguely.
217
Schmoo merely nodded. "I know. I also know how you can pick up some steady galleons. Good
gold, not knuts."
Sirius kept a suspicious mask on his face, anxious to hear more. "I'm listening."
Schmoo again looked around the bar, then leaned forward again. "People with interesting appetites
are looking for some help."
It was all Sirius could do to keep impassive. 'Interesting Appetites' was underworld code for Death
Eaters. He lowered his head. "I'm my own man. Me and Black Sean got a few things going. But I'm
listening."
Schmoo cleared his throat. "They're looking for some help. A little sweetener up front. They give
fifty Galleons to start, then fifty a month. Like a retainer, the guy says. Plus, bonuses for when
you're called. But the real money is when you get the mark, the guy told me. Interested?"
Sirius frowned. "Chump change," he muttered, hoping Schmoo would continue his sales pitch.
"Plus, a recruitment bonus," Schmoo whispered. "That's where you make your money. That and any
booty from raids."
Sirius frowned and made like he was deep in thought. "Don't know. Who's the guy? The guy who
told you all this?"
Schmoo frowned. "Can't tell you."
Sirius gave Schmoo a look. "Worried about the recruitment bonus?"
Schmoo frowned and looked embarrassed, or at least as embarrassed as he got. "It's a hundred
Galleons," he whispered.
Sirius looked down and pondered. "You get it if you're the one who introduces me to the guy,
right?"
Schmoo frowned. "I suppose. Maybe. I'll have to ask."
Sirius took a deep breath. "I still think it's chump change, but I'm willing to listen." Sirius suddenly
straightened out and smiled. "What about that firewhiskey?"
***
The scruffy looking man in the worn robes at the end of the bar sat there looking sullen. But he
listened. And he listened carefully. Nobody approached him. He had already brusquely rebuffed one
of the ladies of the night who inhabited the bar, as well as a regular hanger-on looking to mooch a
drink. After that, the scruffy man was basically left alone.
He watched Sirius Black leave the bar. But still he sat there, listening. He continued to listen,
hearing some interesting things as Schmoo made the rounds of the bar. Schmoo was not cut out to
be an operator. He tried to talk softly, even whispering. But the scruffy man heard.
Finally, 20 minutes after Sirius Black left the bar, the scruffy man finished off his ale and threw a
couple sickles on the bar.
Then, grabbing his cloak, Remus Lupin left the bar to join his long-time friend at No. 12
Grimmauld Place.
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CHAPTER 14 IN-LAWS
***
It was only a small gathering of the Order of the Phoenix. The Headmaster's office clearly could
accommodate a larger crowd, but Professor Dumbledore felt that the five would be sufficient for
this report. He glanced from Sirius, to Lupin, to Moody, to Snape.
"Any thoughts?"
Sirius, giving Snape an annoyed sidelong glance, pursed his lips. "Well, they must be in trouble if
they're recruiting the likes of Schmoo Baker," he said with a smirk.
"Remus?" Dumbledore asked.
The werewolf shrugged. "After Sirius left, Baker talked to several people at the bar. The names I
could get were Niles, Press, Porter, Broomstick and Clamshell. Only Clamshell showed any
interest."
Sirius snorted. "Willie 'Clamshell' Singer. A real low-life. Totally worthless drunk. Niles Clairmont
and Press Davies have jobs and families. Porter ... I don't know what his real name is ... and Charlie
'Broomstick' Steck are on the margins but seem to make some kind of living. Schmoo is just one
step above Clamshell, and that's not saying much."
Dumbledore nodded. "So what does that tell us? Severus?"
Snape frowned in concentration. "Simply that the Dark Lord is finding it difficult to recruit among
the purebloods and more powerful wizarding families. His little incident with Potter has scared
many off, or convinced them that ... Voldemort ... is not as powerful as they thought. So he is
seeking to build his strength among the underclass through financial incentives before pursuing
strategic goals."
Dumbledore nodded. "Alastor? Any thoughts?"
Moody's magic eye kept flicking back and forth between Snape and the Headmaster. "That matches
what I've been hearing from the MLE. There are indications of resistance among established
wizarding families. A couple of people from prominent families actually reported approaches from
known Death Eaters. And if two were approached and reported it, there must have been a couple
dozen who said no, but are keeping their options open."
Dumbledore nodded, deep in thought. "So what does this all mean?"
Remus cleared his throat. "This is bad," he said quietly.
Snape turned to Lupin and gave him a thoughtful look.
"What?" Moody growled.
Remus sighed. "It means that Voldemort is desperate. He is recruiting an army of expendable foot
soldiers. Once he feels he has enough, he'll strike hard in an attempt to terrify people ... and in an
attempt to motivate the more powerful fence-sitters to choose up sides."
Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Severus? Your thoughts on the matter."
Snape sighed. "There is some concern among his followers. I understand there was an attempt on
the Dark Lord's life recently. So he has to act. A strike by Black's low-life friends might just stir
things up enough to give him credibility."
Sirius scowled. "He's not going to get anywhere with people like Schmoo and Clamshell. He's
219
going to have to do something to show there's money in it for the real underworld to think about
taking sides. Most of the Knockturn Alley types aren't true believers. They want what's in it for
them. No Dark Mark without Galleons in hand and solid evidence of a lot more to come. So I think
this recruitment phase will go on for a while until Voldemort feels he's got a critical mass ... an
army to follow him. Until then, I think he'll lie low."
The Headmaster sighed again. Anything else?" Dumbledore asked. When the group could offer no
more, he simply nodded. "Thank you all for coming. There is much to ponder in these new
developments. If you have any more information or ideas, please communicate them at once."
At that, the little group broke up.
***
"Well, if you have something to say, say it!" Hermione exclaimed in annoyance.
Hermione had never been friendly with her roommates, but this year had been particularly difficult.
At the beginning of the year, Hermione was annoyed to find Parvati was trying to get her talons into
Ron and prying into her own relationship with her other best friend, Harry. And Hermione had
turned snippy, angered that her roommate seemed to be trying to interfere with her relationship with
her two best friends.
As it turned out, Parvati had been interested in Ron, and why not? But what Hermione hadn't
realized until too late was that Parvati's prying was only her way of trying to be a friend and help
her with Harry.
Then everything went to hell.
Parvati now had Harry.
Hermione, never the most sociable of girls, now found living with Parvati and Lavender an ordeal.
She was actually surprised that Parvati seemed to make an effort to be friendly. She sighed at the
thought that her roommate was probably exercising the old adage that you should keep your friends
close, but your enemies closer.
Lavender, on the other hand, was her usual irascible self. If you were her friend, she loved you. If
you were just an acquaintance, she was intrigued, particularly if you were a boy. But if she thought
you were an enemy, she was cold as ice.
And Hermione felt a particular chill tonight.
She stared at Lavender and Parvati as she prepared to go to Hogsmeade with Ron, something she
had promised him in a moment of weakness when she hadn't given enough thought to the crumbling
state of her studies.
"Well?" she said in exasperation.
Lavender suddenly stood up and faced her. "What I want to know is how could you let Ron do that
to his own sister?" she exclaimed.
Hermione looked in confusion at Lavender, then Parvati, who was frowning. "I don't know what
you're talking about."
Lavender continued to scowl, but Parvati's eyes fluttered in consternation. "Haven't you talked to
Ginny lately?" Parvati asked.
Hermione gave a confused look. "Well ... I haven't seen her around much. What's going on?"
Lavender gave a theatrical sigh of exasperation and flopped down on her bed. Parvati, however,
frowned thoughtfully. "Hmmmm, I think you should talk to Ginny about what's been going on."
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Hermione blanched, realizing this was probably something important. "What's been going on?"
Parvati sighed. "Just talk to Ginny, okay?"
A chill went down Hermione's spine. 'What had Ron done?' she thought desperately.
***
Hermione knocked on the dorm next door and was asked in. She immediately felt a chill at least as
cold as her own dorm. There were six fourth-year Gryffindor girls and they always seemed to get
along. But as she entered their dorm, she noticed that they seemed to have gathered into two widely
separated groups. Rachel Weiss and Moira Duffy were huddled on Moira's bed next to door on the
right, while a frowning Regina Bowen was sitting with Chloe Jacobs and Toni Spina in the far
corner of the room.
"Ginny?" Hermione asked.
Moira looked up. "Try the library," she said quietly.
Hermione blinked and, with a puzzled expression, turned a left.
***
It took Hermione a few minutes to find Ginny. She wasn't at the normal table where the fourth-year
Gryffindor girls usually sat. She finally found her younger friend at a table near the restricted
section next to a group of fifth-year Ravenclaw boys. Hermione made a face as she saw Ginny
continually glance in a flirtatious manner over in the boys' direction, seemingly trying to catch
somebody's eye.
Hermione walked over and dropped her satchel down on the table and took a chair next to Ginny.
Ginny looked up surprised, then suddenly narrowed her eyes angrily. "If you've come here for my
brother, forget it," she growled. "I'm never speaking to him again."
Hermione was taken aback. "What are you talking about?" she whispered urgently.
Ginny glared at Hermione. "Oh, don't tell you haven't heard about my brave and noble-minded
brother's actions to defend my honor?"
Hermione gave a puzzled blink. "I...no I haven't. He said you were upset over something or other,
but didn't elaborate."
Ginny gave Hermione an angry frown. "Well, allow me to elaborate a little..."
***
Harry took a deep breath and entered the dorm.
He knew Ron was up there. And he knew that Seamus, Dean and Neville were down in the
common room. It was now or never.
"Ron?" Harry said softly.
He heard a grunt from behind the closed curtains around his friend's bed.
"Ron?" Harry repeated.
"I don't want to talk about it," came the muffled reply.
Harry sat on his bed, his shoulders sagging. "Ron, we have to talk."
Suddenly, the bed curtains were yanked apart and a visibly upset face appeared. "Don't you start on
me, now. I've had enough for one day," Ron said, his voice cracking.
221
Harry gave his best friend a puzzled, sympathetic look. "What?"
"Bloody hell," Ron said, flopping back on his bed.
Harry was puzzled now. "What happened?"
Ron gave a big sigh. "Hermione and I...well, she told me if Ginny didn't have a date for the Yule
Ball, I could forget about her and the Ball. She said she would go with my sister and I could find
someone else or go alone."
Harry shook his head in confusion. "What?"
"Ginny told Hermione about the...well, what happened with Velazquez and all. And a couple of
things I might have said to a couple other guys, real jerks who were interested in Ginny. I've never
seen Hermione so mad. She told me I hurt Ginny, broke up a bunch of friendships among Ginny's
classmates. She said she could barely show her face in her own dorm until I straightened things out.
She accused me of everything except being a Death Eater. Said I probably caused more harm in
Gryffindor than any three Death Eaters could."
Harry sighed, closing his eyes. "You meant well," he said in a soft, consoling voice.
Ron raised his head sharply. "That's what I told her. She just accused me of being a Neen-der-something or other. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good."
Harry shook his head. "Neanderthal. A cave man. Just another name for a jerk."
Ron snorted.
"She's right, you know," Harry said quietly.
Ron screwed up his face in anger. "I told you not to start..."
"So Hermione won't go to the Ball with you unless you find Ginny a date?"
Ron rolled on the bed to face away. "Yeah," he said in a faraway voice.
Harry sighed again. "Well, what about Dean?"
Ron grunted. "Asked him. He said he wanted to ask Megan Jones in Hufflepuff."
Harry pondered. "Not Colin?"
Ron snorted. "He's going with Loony Luna. There's a match made in heaven."
"What about Cecil Huddleston? He's a little annoyed at things, but they are Quidditch teammates
and all."
Ron shook his head. "Snape...Velazquez arranged for him to take Chloe Jacobs. All the fourth year
Gryffindors are spoken for."
Harry took a deep breath. "How about one of the other houses? They can't all be spoken for. It's too
early."
Ron snorted. "I don't know guys in the other Houses. Well...not that well, anyway."
Harry suddenly got an evil look. "Well, there's always Malfoy. You know him," he said with a
smirk.
Ron sat up and gave Harry a foul look. "Don't even mention that name in our dorm."
Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Look, I'll ask Parvati. Maybe she'll have some ideas. After all,
we wouldn't want your new dress robes to go to waste."
Ron nodded. "I hope so." Ron lay back in his bed, his frown turning slowly more thoughtful. "Oh,
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listen. I've got a few ideas about some plays for the reserves. I ..." Then Ron paused as he saw
Harry's expression darken. "What?"
Harry closed his eyes and lowered his head, remembering why he had come up to the dorms after
Ron in the first place. "Oh, I needed to talk to you about that," he said quietly.
Ron's face fell. "What about?" he said in an anxious voice.
Harry took a deep breath. "That thing about being captain of the reserves. Angelina changed her
mind," he said in a quiet voice.
Ron's face flushed and his eyes widened in disappointment. "Why, Harry?"
Harry gave his friend a sad look. "Well...after your confrontation with Seve and all, things have
gotten a little tense on the team. Someone made some comments about Regina being Seve's second
choice for the Ball, and so she's mad at Ginny. Now there's all kinds of problems among the fourth
year girls and it's spilled over to the team. Seve, Regina and Cecil aren't talking to Ginny and Theo,
and all of them are angry at you. And Angelina is furious. She says you owe about a dozen people
apologies. Says you couldn't manage a one-man line at the loo." Harry scowled and silently cursed
himself for adding that unnecessary detail.
Ron's face turned a crimson and turned away from Harry.
Harry closed his eyes in sorrow for his friend. "Look, maybe if you talked to them one at a time.
Try to mend some fences. At very least you need to talk to Seve. If you could make things right
with him, I think a lot of the rest will fall into place."
At first, Ron didn't respond. He simply curled into a ball facing away from Harry.
Harry shook his head sadly and was about to get up when he heard Ron grunt. "Look...I don't know.
Things will work themselves out, I guess," the redhead muttered, still facing away from Harry
Harry took a deep breath. "You know, there's still a lot of tension on the team. And among the
fourth year girls. You think that's just going to go away?"
Harry could see Ron's shoulders seemingly hunch as if in a shrug. "In a couple weeks...maybe.
After Christmas...Everything will be back to normal," he said in a quiet, tentative voice.
Harry was getting annoyed. Things like this didn't just go away. Broken friendships were not easily
mended. How could he explain it to Ron? How could he get his point across to get Ron to think,
rather than have his roommate simply start a row rather than listen. Then he remembered an
incident when he was little, when Aunt Marge was visiting and her hated dog Ripper had an
accident on the rug. He remembered Aunt Petunia's lecture about how Harry had to clean up the
mess, which was delivered to him in low, almost polite tones, because Marge was in the next room
and wasn't to be embarrassed.
"Ron?"
The boy slowly turned to look over his shoulder at Harry.
Harry gave Ron a level gaze. "Just imagine a dog comes into the Burrow and makes a mess on the
rug."
Ron turned and blinked in confusion, figuring this was another of Harry's weird tangents.
Harry nodded. "Well, you could leave it there. It will smell for a while. But pretty soon, the smell
will go away. But the stain will always be there. At least unless you clean it up right away. And the
longer you put off cleaning the mess, the harder it will be to clean it up, and the better the chance
that the mess will be stepped in by others."
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Ron gave Harry a blank look.
Harry sighed. "When you picked that fight with Seve, you made a mess. And you've been putting
off cleaning it up. And people have already stepped in it and dragged it up to the fourth year girls'
dorm. I hear that no one is speaking to each other up there. Now Cecil and Theo have gotten
involved, which means our two keepers are not speaking. You've got to do something to make
things right. You owe Seve an apology. And Ginny, too. Maybe that will be a start in really
cleaning up the mess. If you don't, there'll always be that stain there."
Harry braced himself for Ron's angry response. But instead, Ron simply rolled over on his bed
again. It took a few minutes before he spoke.
"I didn't mean to hurt anyone," he said quietly. "I just was trying to watch out for Ginny."
Harry could hear Ron breathing heavily.
Ron threw an arm over his face. "When I was growing up, everyone always watched out for me. I
just wanted to be able to watch out for someone. And I really didn't like seeing Seve act that way
around her. I just wanted to protect her."
Harry took another deep breath. "Ron, she's not an adult yet, but she's not an infant either. You can
be there for her without smothering her."
Ron grunted. "I wasn't trying to smother her. I just...want her to be careful."
"Ron, you can't be a good big brother if you're acting like her jailer. And you can't listen to her
problems if she isn't speaking to you."
Ron turned on his side, facing away from Harry. "I don't know. It's just my way..."
Harry shook his head. "Well, your way is wrong," he said quietly but firmly.
Ron was silent except that Harry could hear a quiet sniffle. Finally, Ron coughed. "Just one little
thing...one mistake. And it's bollixing up everything," he said in a choking voice.
Harry sighed. He understood how one little misunderstanding could change lives.
***
It was a subdued, even boring prefects' meeting. For once, there were no pressing crises to discuss,
so some of the prefects felt it time to bring out pet peeves. Harry gave an internal shrug and simply
let his mind wander. He knew he'd have to talk to the fifth years that were part of his group teaching
Defense to the younger students. After a second session with such a large group, he knew things
were totally out of hand.
He had toyed with the idea of asking the leaders from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to take the lessons
in-house. But he saw how a large part of the fun that the younger students were having was getting
the chance to associate with their classmates from other houses for the first time.
And then there were the Slytherins. Who would work with them?
Harry knew that if he were to break up the lessons and practice into houses, those from Slytherin
would feel betrayed. He wouldn't be able to face them again.
Which left dividing the group up by years. But who would handle that? He couldn't take on four--even five, counting the fifth years--different sessions. He was already sacrificing his Tuesday
afternoons for the younger students and Thursday afternoons for the fifth years. Between that,
Quidditch practices on Monday and alternate Friday afternoons and losing Wednesday afternoons to
prefects meetings, he was beginning to feel the burden.
He would have to talk to the others to try to figure something out.
224
Instead of worrying about that issue, he gazed around the room. He wondered at the interesting
mixture of students. Even among the fifth years, it was quite a collection. There were the swots,
Hermione full of enthusiasm and drive, Mandy Brocklehurst intense and insecure, and Terry Boot,
the unfocused dreamer. Hannah, the innocent, fresh-faced beauty, full of concern and compassion.
Millicent was the cynical organizer, tough but with a surprising sense of humor. There was Ernie,
the good-looking man's man who couldn't think past his own hormones. And then there was
Malfoy, the sneering, angry little twit who was slowly falling apart.
Then Harry was distracted by a movement to his left. It was Mike Gillespie, the Hufflepuff seeker
and sixth year prefect. Gillespie was motioning to signal Ernie Macmillan and, when he got Ernie's
attention, gave a subtle shake of his head. Harry gave a sidelong glance down the other end of the
fifth year table and saw Ernie give Gillespie a quizzical look, then lean back, no longer trying to
catch McGonagall's attention.
Harry frowned. Mike Gillespie was a puzzle. Harry hadn't known him except as a chaser on the
Hufflepuff Quidditch team two years ago. Mike had moved to seeker this year.
By any measure, Gillespie was an enigma. He was often friendly in a quiet way, taking you aside
for a funny or quirky story or observation. But at other times, he seemed to be quietly observing,
sometimes showing a small smile of amusement at something only he seemed to notice. And Harry
also noticed how he seemed constantly pulling over other Hufflepuffs for quiet conversations.
Harry never knew what he was thinking.
But this year, he had gotten to talk to Gillespie and began to hear things about him. Harry was
surprised to learn that Gillespie was consistently in the top five academically in his class. And he
discovered that he had been good friends with Cedric Diggory. One of the first things Harry had
experienced this year was Mike pulling him aside and asking about Cedric's death, frowning and
nodding in concentration. Finally, Mike had simply looked at Harry and, with a rare serious
expression, thanked Harry for bringing Cedric's body back. He mentioned quietly that this one act
had convinced him and most of the other Hufflepuffs that Harry had no responsibility for Diggory's
death.
It was that, more than anything else--even a quiet conversation with Cho earlier this year-- that
helped lighten Harry's burden over the murder of his friend.
Now, as the meeting was breaking up, Gillespie caught Harry's eye. Harry shrugged and hung back
after grabbing Mandy to tell her he wanted to meet the DADA group later. To his surprise, Hannah,
looking uncomfortable, and Ernie held back, as well.
Gillespie motioned the three students to the side of the prefects meeting room. Gillespie eyed Harry
cautiously. "I hear you're training students in Defense."
Harry paused and looked back and forth between Hannah and Ernie, who had taken spots on either
side of Mike. He turned his attention back to the sixth-year prefect. "We're just teaching them to
defend themselves. Giving them some self-confidence."
Gillespie's eyes seemed to bore into Harry's. "You're building an army. You're getting them ready
for his return."
Harry stared back at his fellow seeker. "I'm preparing them for whatever happens," he said in a low
voice. "Whether here, or outside."
Gillespie continued to stare at Harry. "He's not dead like the Ministry claims, is he?"
Harry narrowed his gaze. "Voldemort is still alive," he said evenly. "We hurt him. But he'll be
back."
Hannah gasped, and Ernie looked uncomfortable. But Gillespie didn't blink. "He killed my aunt and
225
uncle--my mum's brother back when I was a pup. Him and his ... people. And he killed Cedric. If
he's back, I want a part of it," he said with quiet intensity. "And I know some others who would
want to be a part of it."
Harry continued to stare at Gillespie, but now more in surprise. "What do you want?"
Gillespie frowned and looked down, as if in thought. He glanced up with a serious expression.
"There's a lot of people who want to do something. To get revenge. To stop living in fear. But they
never had a focus. You are providing focus. We want to join what you're doing."
Harry took a deep breath. "Can they be trusted? Your friends?"
Gillespie took a deep breath. "The ones I vouch for, yes," he said quietly. "Not everyone you've got
can be."
Harry frowned. "The Slytherins?" he asked quietly.
Gillespie pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I don't know who you've got among the kids. The ones
you've got in fifth year are okay, I guess. Maybe not Blythe. Not because he's a Death Eater, but
he's weak. But don't trust any of the older ones. The only one I'd trust is Bletchley, but I wouldn't
put him in that position of keeping that a secret."
Harry continued to listen intently. "So who?"
Gillespie frowned in concentration. Finally, he looked up. "This is an old-line pureblood issue.
They've been losing influence for generations. Now they survive through bribes and bullying. They
corrupted the Ministry. Now, they see ..." and Gillespie cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
"They see Voldemort as a way back to power. Them, and the ones with ruthless ambition. They're
the ones to watch out for."
Harry nodded. "Who do you think fits that profile?"
Gillespie shuffled for a moment. "The usual crowd. And you have to watch out for the young ones
and the Muggle-borns who don't understand what's at stake. To them, it's just a game."
Harry frowned. "You're not going to tell me who is a threat."
Gillespie sighed. "Boot in Ravenclaw is a nitwit. Don't trust him to be discrete. In Hufflepuff, watch
out for Zacharias. Finch-Fletchley doesn't understand what we've been through. He's not a bad guy,
but he may not understand what's at stake. There are a couple more Muggle-borns who don't get it.
There are a few others that I don't know about. And like I said, maybe some of the young ones think
this is all a game. But most of Hufflepuff can be trusted. I'd rely on Hannah and Ernie for more on
the younger ones. I can't tell about the Ravenclaws. Just watch out for Roger Davies. He's a little
too ambitious for my tastes. And beware of anyone with Ministry connections."
Hannah gasped, but Gillespie quieted her with a glance. "Susan Bones is okay. I trust her. Hannah
trusts her."
Harry eyed Gillespie suspiciously. "What about in Gryffindor?" he asked with an edge in his voice.
The Hufflepuff snorted. "You should know that better than I would. This is in part a pure-blood
crusade. Look at your old-line purebloods. The Weasleys? Longbottom? The Browns? The Duffys?
I believe you've got a Richardson and a Young. Do they seem to be the type who would betray us?
And your Muggle-borns have seen what's at stake up close and can be trusted. Or at least I assume
they can. The only Gryffindors I could think of to watch out for have already graduated. I don't see
anyone else who is overly ambitious. At least not to that level."
Harry's glare softened. "So what do you want?"
Gillespie once again looked down thoughtfully. "To help teach the young ones. And to get together
226
to learn and practice. Maybe not so formally. And I can bring a couple others in from my year, and
maybe a seventh year or two. And, if you're smart and can control them, Fred and George Weasley
can teach us all a thing or two about charms."
Harry suddenly smiled. "I'll have to think about that," he said with a quiet chuckle. "You free after
supper? Down in the DADA classroom with Moody?"
Gillespie nodded. "Tonight's fine." He said quietly. Then, he got a mischievous expression on his
face. "But for future meetings, I'll have to check my dance card. Got to watch out for Thursday
afternoons and alternate Mondays. Quidditch practice," he said with a smile. "We've got Ravenclaw
in a couple months. If we'd had a little more time to get in shape before facing you guys, we would
have taken Gryffindor and been a lock for the Cup," he said with a smirk.
Harry chuckled. "If we've had a little more practice, well ..."
Harry smiled inwardly, as well. This might help solve the problem of breaking up the DADA
lessons for the underclassmen.
***
"Harry, I'm inclined to recommend against your plans."
Harry frowned and took a deep breath. "It's not your decision to make," he said in a flat,
emotionless voice. "I'll just have to find my own way. Now, if there was anything else you wanted
to see me about." He made to rise.
Dumbledore sighed. "Please, Harry, sit. I just wanted to voice my concerns."
Harry looked sadly back at the Headmaster. "I never had a real family. I've never had a real home,"
he said quietly. "I've never had a real girlfriend. And I've never had a real Christmas." Harry was
almost whispering now. "So I'm going home to be with my family and my girl for the holidays."
Dumbledore returned Harry's sad look with a resigned smile and nodded. "Very well, Harry. I will
take care that you enjoy your holiday. I will see if we can get portkeys, or perhaps open the floo
network to the vicarage."
Harry gave a curt nod. "Thank you, Professor," he said softly, before turning and leaving.
Dumbledore sighed as he watched the door close. He closed his eyes and pondered. He had to do
something, or he would lose Harry.
After the events of this summer, he had finally realized his mistake in sending Harry to live with the
Dursleys. Surely, the ancient blood protections were an issue. But they did not become a necessity
until after Harry's fourth year, when Voldemort rose again. The Headmaster had simply wanted
Harry to be raised as a normal boy. Once the LeStranges were captured not long after Voldemort's
first downfall, there was not much more to be done except keep his eyes open for new signs of Dark
activity. He even disbanded the original Order of the Phoenix. And he simply forgot about Harry
until he arrived at Hogwarts.
It was only this past summer that the Headmaster realized that Harry's childhood had been anything
but normal. He had expected to see the scar on the boy's forehead. He had not expected to see the
other scars, both visible and invisible. He had hoped to see an excited, enthusiastic boy enter
Hogwarts and was rewarded. He did not expect the angry and suspicious young man that Harry had
become and was now troubled.
And now, as if to make up for the years of neglect, Dumbledore was trying to find the best way to
protect Harry. Perhaps he was being as overprotective now as he had been neglectful during Harry's
formative years. He had to find a way to protect the boy without smothering him. Dumbledore
closed his eyes and sighed. What of the boy's happiness? But what of the prophecy? he thought
227
Maybe Minerva was right. Perhaps it was best simply to let Harry enjoy himself. Security could be
arranged where necessary. And Harry could be trained to watch out and protect himself. Moody
was taking care of that for now. And maybe more could be done in the next term.
Still, the Headmaster was troubled and saddened. He truly loved the boy. And he felt that love
returned during Harry's first few years at Hogwarts. But now he felt he was losing Harry. No, he
didn't fear Harry would turn to the Dark. But Dumbledore felt he was losing Harry in other ways.
Perhaps it was natural. The boy was now fully into his rebellious adolescent years. But Harry was
too important, too valuable, to be let go.
So Dumbledore was worried. He felt he was losing Harry's trust, and that was critical. He would
have to find a way to reach out to the boy -- make that the young man that Harry had become.
Dumbledore sighed again and turned to the next crisis on his agenda.
***
It was the last Hogsmeade weekend before the Yule Ball and the Christmas break. After a
tumultuous couple weeks, things suddenly had begun to look up.
It had started a few days ago, when Professor Dumbledore told him that an agent in the Ministry
would quietly open up a floo connection between the Patil estate and the Strowbridges between
3:00 and 3:30 in the afternoon on Christmas Day to allow Harry and Parvati to visit his foster
parents. A return floo connection would be opened at the same time four days later.
Then Harry noticed at the next Quidditch practice that Ron and Severino Velazquez amiably going
over plays, and Ginny and Regina Bowen having a quiet conversation outside the lockers. 'Maybe
that crisis is finally over,' he thought.
Then, it happened. Thursday, Ravenclaw stunned Slytherin in their Quidditch match.
There was absolutely no reason why Ravenclaw should have beat Slytherin. Slytherin had four
members of a veteran team returning, including probably the best keeper in the school, Jack
Bletchley.
On the other hand, Ravenclaw had a young, inexperienced team. Harry recalled chuckling with
Angelina, Katie and Alicia over the new Ravenclaw chaser line, and the fact that Kevin Entwhistle,
who was a steady but plodding flyer, had made the team as a right wing. The only really formidable
players on the team were Cho Chang as seeker and Tony Goldstein as one of the beaters.
But come time for the match, Slytherin seemed to play a loose, disorganized match. Even
Bletchley's constant chattering from goal to organize attacks and to call the defenses seemed to have
little effect. Harry had heard that there was a lot of bad blood on the Slytherin team. Malfoy, who
had been named captain at the beginning of the year, had been ousted after Crabbe and Goyle left
and he was unable to deliver on his promise of new brooms for the team. Now the seventh-year,
Bletchley, was captain. And there were rumors that Millicent Bulstrode and second-year Malcolm
Baddock had been kept from the team to make way for Crabbe and Goyle, who were only marginal
flyers, only to be brought back reluctantly when Malfoy's cronies left the school. Bad blood indeed.
Despite all this, and the fact that Ravenclaw fought hard, the outcome seemed certain.
Then lightning struck.
Malfoy's play seemed lackadaisical, with him casually shadowing Cho throughout the match.
Clearly, shadowing Cho Chang was one of the most boring of Quidditch tasks as she tended to
cover the pitch in her search for the snitch in regular, methodical patterns. But the fact that Malfoy
was not paying attention when Cho suddenly bolted cost him the edge he needed to muscle her off
the snitch.
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So Ravenclaw beat Slytherin, 170-70 only 35 minutes into the match.
Harry chuckled at the scene of a stunned Slytherin crowd, filing out, grumbling about the cold
weather and an even colder Malfoy.
Now, it was a Hogsmeade weekend and Harry was excited. He had willingly let Parvati run off with
Lavender on a last minute shopping spree for the afternoon.
It had given him the chance to visit Sirius.
He had visited his Godfather several times during previous Hogsmeade weekends and Sirius had
made an occasional surprise visit to Hogwarts over the past couple months. Even during the Golem
crisis, Sirius' cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, had arranged with the Auror contingent for Sirius to have
a couple quick visits to Harry at Hagrid's cabin.
Still, Harry was pleased whenever he got a chance to visit his Godfather. But he had a couple
errands to attend to before meeting Sirius.
First he stopped into Simple Simon's Bakery, then made his way to the shop next door.
***
"See anything else you like, Mister Potter?"
Harry smiled. It was easy. He knew exactly what he was looking for, a rare thing for a teenaged boy
in a jewelry shop. "This," he said with a smile, pointing down through the security charms.
The sales clerk raised her eyebrows and gave a knowing smile. She tapped her ring with a wand and
reached through the charmed barrier to withdraw the necklace. It was a simple gold chain with two
intertwined gold hearts. "It is a lovely piece," she said quietly.
Harry looked at it closely. "What are these little indentations at the top of each heart?"
The sale clerk smiled again. "They're to hold the stones. It's something new and unique to us here at
'All That Glitters.' Instead of engraving initials, we provide small gemstones to identify the hearts.
Not big pieces. Just chips. Nothing too flashy. Or particularly expensive. But they do identify who
the hearts belong to. Here's an example of one with the stones in."
The clerk reached into another counter behind her and produced a similar necklace. One heart had a
small blue gemstone and the other had a yellow one.
Harry smiled. "That's nice," he said. "Is that what I would get?"
"The stones are personal to the giver and the recipient. What is your birthday, and your girl's
birthday?"
"Mine is July 31 and Parvati's is August 25."
The clerk continued to smile, but it seemed a little softer now. "First, let me tell you that the
necklace and enchantments are twenty-five Galleons with another ten or so Galleons for the stones.
Is that in your price range?"
Harry looked up at her and smiled. "No problem," he said.
The clerk nodded. "Are you sure this is what you want? We have a number of other items you
might like in your price range, or maybe even a little less, that your girl...Parvati?...would love."
Harry gave a puzzled frown. "No. This is exactly what I want. I saw something similar on a friend
of mine this summer and I knew I would want to give it to my girlfriend." A quick cloud passed
over Harry's face when he thought back at about seeing this necklace, without the stones, on his
Muggle neighbor and mentor, Sara Geddes, and thinking of how much he wanted to give one like it
to Hermione. But all that had changed since Parvati came into his life. He sighed.
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The clerk noticed Harry's quick change in expression. "Is your friend still with her gentleman
friend?"
Harry frowned. "Well, no. And he could hardly be called a gentleman."
The sales clerk closed her eyes briefly. "That's the danger with this piece. Are you sure you
wouldn't like to see something else?"
Harry shook his head. "No. I want this one."
The clerk gave him a wistful smile. "You really must love her," she said quietly.
"I do," he said with unfocused eyes.
The clerk nodded and turned. "George?" she called.
A small, elderly wizard came out of the back room and looked at Harry, then the necklace. "Ah,
young love," he said with a chuckle.
"July and August," the clerk told the master jeweler.
The elderly man nodded and took the necklace to a back corner and performed a series of quiet
incantations. He slowly returned just as Harry finished paying for the piece.
Harry looked at the necklace and shook his head, smiling. The stones were red and green. 'Of
course, an emerald to match my eyes and a ruby to match Parvati's favorite color and her passionate
nature,' he thought. "It's beautiful. She'll love it."
The clerk chuckled. "I imagine she will, as long as you stay true to her," she said with a grin.
Harry took the wrapped package and placed it securely in his robe and left to see Sirius.
The clerk and the jeweler exchanged glances. "I hate to sell something like that to someone so
young," the clerk said with a sigh, her smile fading.
The jeweler shrugged. "Maybe it will last. But if not, well, she can sell it to someone who deals
with Muggles. If she doesn't throw it in the lake first," he said with a knowing smile. "And a sale's a
sale."
***
"Soooo...spending the Christmas holidays with your future in-laws, are you?" Sirius said with a
knowing grin.
Harry looked startled, then recognized his godfather was teasing and rolled his eyes. "Sirius, be
serious."
Sirius chuckled at the familiar jape. "I haven't heard that one before...at least since I saw Remus a
couple days ago."
Harry leaned back and joined in the amusement. It was good to see Sirius laugh. It was a rare thing.
Once Sirius' innocence was established and the pardon had gone through, Dumbledore and
Professor McGonagall had been generous in permitting Sirius access to Harry. But once the furor
died down, Harry was forced into his school routine again and Sirius was left only with his
friendship with Remus Lupin, and his forays into the underworld with Shane Patil, to get him by.
And Harry noticed that, in his chances to be with his godfather, Sirius often would act like a highspirited older brother despite the 20-year difference in age. But Harry could sense a darker, more
sullen side of Sirius, with flashes of a temper from time-to-time.
Harry didn't mind the occasional harsh word, now and again. He knew his own temper would flare
as well, although years of living under the threats of his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, had taught
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him well about keeping it in check.
But still, Harry worried. Sirius was having difficulty in getting used to his freedom and, despite the
fact that his innocence was well publicized and acknowledged, many in the wizarding world shied
away from someone who had spent so long a time in Azkaban.
So Harry was pleased that Sirius was in a playful mood today in his small flat in Hogsmeade. It was
the Saturday of a Hogsmeade weekend and tonight would be Sirius's formal introduction to Parvati.
And Harry desperately wanted things to go well.
Sirius was still laughing at Harry's Sirius/serious comment. He was enjoying Harry's discomfiture
over his in-law joke. But he saw an underlying spark in Harry's eye and his face softened.
"You really do like this girl, don't you?" he said with a smile.
Harry sighed with a smile. "Yes...I do."
Sirius shook his head in wonder. "She's high-spirited, that's for sure," he said chuckling. "And quite
a pretty one."
Harry nodded, still smiling.
Sirius shook his head. "Still, I always expected you would end up with Hermione."
Harry's smile faded a little, and he shrugged with a sigh. "I guess I did, too," he said softly.
Sirius caught Harry's eye. "You know, you never really explained what happened. Just that there
was some misunderstanding. What really happened?"
Harry shrugged again. "It's hard to say...I tried to tell her how I felt about her, how I liked he, but I
guess she just froze. She wouldn't even react. Wouldn't even look at me. I thought she was mad, or
embarrassed for me, or something. But at the time, I think I was about ready to throw myself off the
Astronomy Tower."
"Don't do that, Harry. There's few enough of us good looking guys around for the gals as it is. You
don't want to increase the shortage," Sirius said with a grin.
Harry grinned back. Then his expression became wistful. "No...I was hurt. Really hurt. I sulked and
pouted for a couple weeks. Then I got to know Parvati. We made a deal. She would work on
Hermione for me, and I would work on Ron Weasley for her. And somewhere while that was going
on, we fell in love."
"Why, Harry? What happened?"
Harry shrugged once again. "It's kind of hard to explain. Hermione was always dragging Ron and
me to the library, or on this project, or that. She's get all enthusiastic and would be so cute, in her
bossy little way. But when I got to know Parvati, I realized she was someone who I could just sit
and talk to. And she would listen. I don't know that anyone ever really listened to me before...except
Ron. Sometimes, Hermione would start to listen, but most of the time, she wouldn't even let me
finish what I wanted to say before she'd be off dragging me here or there with whatever took into
her head from what I was saying. But Parvati would listen...really listen...and then give me hell or
give me her shoulder to cry on."
Sirius nodded, understanding.
Then Harry looked up. "And she makes me laugh."
His godfather smiled, now truly understanding Harry's affection for the pretty young girl that Sirius
had met only a few times in passing. He had felt a spark of pride that his godson had snared such a
beauty, but it also worried him. Beautiful young girls usually spelled trouble back when he was at
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Hogwarts. The only truly beautiful young woman who went against this grain was Lily Evans, and
even she had given Harry's father his share of heartaches before finally agreeing to marry him.
"Well, I hope you are going to be careful, Harry. After all, you're only fifteen, and that's pretty
young to start having little Harry's running around all over the place," Sirius said with a chuckle.
Harry smile faded and he began to shift uncomfortably. He looked up at Sirius with his own serious
look. "I know," he said quietly.
"No, Harry. This is important," Sirius said in his most fatherly of voices. "You're big news. An
important person in the wizarding world. You make one little mistake and the whole world will
know about it."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "We're using both potions and charms," he said in a barely audible
voice.
Sirius started, his jaw falling. "You mean...?"
Harry stopped squirming and looked Sirius in the eye. He nodded.
Sirius leaned back on his chair, stunned. This wasn't the Harry he had known in the past. The
awkward, shy boy who seemed to attract trouble and who managed to survive by his wits and
animal cunning and a large measure of luck. This was now a young confident man. But this, too,
was troubling, given his age.
Sirius tried to take Harry's confession lightly. "Ah, hormones. Fifteen years old and he's getting
more action than his grown up godfather," he said with false joviality.
Harry's face clouded. "Parvati is not 'action.' She is the first girl I've ever truly loved. And the first
girl who has ever shown me true love."
Sirius was taken aback. "Harry, you're only fifteen..."
Harry leveled his gaze at Sirius. "You know what Seamus Finnegan, one of my roommates, said to
me after I fought Voldemort?"
Sirius shook his head.
"He said: 'Well, Harry my boy. You know what this means? It means you'll never have to sleep
alone again. They'll be lining up for you'," he said flatly.
Sirius didn't know what to say.
Harry kept his gaze level and his voice steady. "Seamus was right. I've already had three girls
proposition me outright. And maybe three or four more hint around that a midnight snog might lead
to something more, even knowing Parvati and I were a couple."
Harry's look softened, but his voice remained steady. "You know, before all this, I would have
given almost anything to kiss or to hold hands with a couple of those girls. But I'm not interested.
I've found someone who makes me feel like I've always wanted to feel. Wanted. Loved. Not
because of a scar or a stupid story in a teen magazine. But for me. That's all I ever wanted. And it's
more than I ever expected."
Sirius was now staring at Harry open-mouthed. "But...but...where are you getting the potions? It's
not some home brew...?"
Harry shook his head and shrugged. "After the stupid articles came out saying that we were in the
Forbidden Forest to go shagging, Madame Pomfrey approached us and gave us the potion," Harry
said with a resigned sigh. "Then Professor McGonagall pulled us aside and, after a lecture about
responsible behavior, told us she too had had 'a wee bit a fun in mae prime'," Harry said, with a
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reasonable imitation of McGonagall's Scottish burr. "Hell, even Flitwick and Mad Eye Moody
pulled me aside for some fatherly advice about girls and 'protection'," he said, shaking his head with
a hint of a smile.
Sirius was now laughing. "But nothing from Snape, I don't doubt. He wouldn't know what to do if
you gave him an instruction book and a lifetime subscription to Gentleman Wizard," he said with a
chuckle.
Harry was giggling by now, as well. "Well, he did look down his nose at me just as I was getting
ready to leave the hospital wing. 'Ummmm, Mister Potter. You and Miss Patil have had a chat with
Madame Pomfrey, I believe...'," Harry said, imitating Snape's drawl. " 'Very good,' and he swept out
of there like he had Voldemort on his tail. I swear, Sirius, it almost looked like he was blushing,"
Harry said, now shaking with laughter.
The two shared the laughter. The Sirius looked up at his godson. "You mean you two...I mean
before Voldemort...Never?"
Harry shrugged again. "No. We'd done a little snogging, but that story in Witch Weekly the week
later...you know the one: 'The Kiss Interrupted by Death,' was essentially true, even with Rita
Skeeter writing it. Parvati had just introduced me to her unicorn friend Snowflake, when Voldemort
and the Death Eaters arrived."
Sirius tried to take a more measured tone. "So now you are..."
Harry nodded, his face flushing.
"It's quite something..."
Harry hung his head with a small smile. "It's nice..."
Sirius let loose a laugh.
Harry began to chuckle a little through his embarrassment. "Okay, it's more than nice..."
But Sirius now resumed his fatherly tone. "Harry, you're very young..." he said in a tight voice. "I
just don't want you to get in trouble. I don't want to see you getting hurt."
Harry gave a small nod and stared off to the corner of the small room. "We are taking precautions.
But if we were to break up, that would hurt me badly, whether we were sleeping together or not. I
love her."
Tears suddenly formed in Sirius's eyes. Had he ever said that about a girl and meant it? Had he ever
even felt that way? His head drooped down.
Harry looked up startled as he saw his godfather's unexpected weeping. He reached over and put his
hand on his Sirius's shoulder, then wrapped his arms around him to comfort this man who had lost
so much, who had lost so many years.
***
Parvati was already at the entrance of 'Le Manche a Balai,' Hogsmeade's answer to fine French
dining and the continuing source of outrage to Madam Rosmerta of the Three Broomsticks, when
Harry and Sirius showed up. She was bouncing in anticipation, wearing and elegant, fur-trimmed
black winter cloak against the cold early December evening.
"Well, it's not every night that a young witch has two such handsome escorts. It's almost enough to
make me forgive you for making me wait 15 minutes in this cold," she said with a devilish grin.
Harry laughed and leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She then turned to Sirius, turning
her cheek to him. "Well come on. I'll be comparing notes on you two at the end of the evening."
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Sirius laughed and gave her a peck on the cheek, as well.
She stepped between the two and, looping her arms in theirs, led them into the restaurant.
The dinner was going well. Parvati was effervescent with her descriptions of her crazy brothers and
sisters. She shook her head in describing Hari, who worked in the family importing business and
who everyone was trying to marry off. When Shane's name came up, Sirius decided not to mention
his partnership with the Auror on secret missions for the Order and the MLE. Sirius was interested
to hear Parvati's description of her older sister Lakshmi, who kept the books for the family import
business and, on occasion, was literally a bean-counter when it came time to check the inventory.
Again, Sirius decided not to mention the contentious meeting and the lecture she had given him at
the Muggle restaurant the previous month, nor the questioning Sirius had done about his life since
then.
However, Sirius laughed heartily over Parvati's description of her next youngest brother, Hanuman,
who worked in the Ministry of Trade. He couldn't help but shake his head over Hanuman's antics,
wearing a turban as a self-styled Sikh that made him a continuing source of outrage to his father,
who considered his behavior disrespectful to the family and to real Sikhs. But the trio's laughter
paled at Parvati's description of her youngest brother, Ganapathi, who saw the fact that the Patils
had lived in England since the time of Robert Clive in the mid-18th century as no obstacle to his
claim that he should be given a tryout for the Indian National Quidditch team. And, of course,
Padma. Sirius chuckled at Parvati's calling Padma her 'adopted' identical twin sister.
Sirius admitted to himself that Parvati was absolutely delightful. But soon, Parvati turned to him.
"So Sirius. Enough about me. What about you? What do you think of my outfit?"
Sirius laughed appreciatively at the old joke, but saw she had become a little more serious.
"So what about you?" she said with interest.
"What about me?" he said warily.
She smiled. "Well, I read an article in Teen Witch Weekly..."
Harry snorted in laughter, and was instantly elbowed by Parvati.
"As I was saying, I read an article in Teen Witch Weekly that it's polite to give a guy a word in
edgewise every once in a while. Two words, if he's cute. So what about you?"
Sirius saw that she really was interested. But his sense of unease increased. "I suppose you want to
hear about Azkaban?"
She looked at him with intense eyes. "I'm interested in whatever you feel you'd like to talk about. If
it's Azkaban, that's fine. If it's something else, that's fine, too," she said with a smile.
Sirius gave her a forlorn look and began a very general recounting of his experience from the time
Harry's parents made him their promise-keeper, and his ill-fated decision to transfer this duty to
Peter Pettigrew. But somewhere during his conversation, something inside Sirius broke, like a
logjam suddenly giving way. Maybe it was the intensity of her gaze that had caught him off guard.
Like she really cared, not out of idle or morbid curiosity, but that she wanted to know, wanted to
help in some way.
And so Sirius talked about Azkaban. He spoke of the terror, the despair, the loneliness. Of the other
inmates who sang or howled constantly. Of those whose bodies he had seen carted away, victims of
the inability to cope. Of the unrelenting cold of the winters and the stifling heat of the summers. Of
poor food and sanitation. Of spending nearly all his time in his animagous form to save his sanity,
only to feel less than human as a dog, whose rational thought processes were dulled but whose other
senses, those of hearing and smell, gave him entrance to sounds and odors no one should ever
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experience.
He told her things that he had forgotten. And those he could not forget. Things he had never even
told Harry, or Remus. In the end, he looked up, horrified at what he's said, and shocked to see not
disgust on her face, but tears of compassion. He never even realized that she had been holding his
hand throughout.
He looked quickly over at Harry, who was weeping through hands covering his face.
Sirius looked down. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"No," Parvati said firmly. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Those who caused you this pain are
the ones who should be sorry." She got up from her chair and embraced him as he sat. And Sirius
cried.
***
As they left the restaurant, Sirius was breathing heavily. He was angry at himself for ruining the
dinner. But he felt surprisingly more at peace. He didn't know what to say to Parvati. But he did
know what to say to Harry, who was preparing to escort her back to Hogwarts.
He pulled Harry aside to say good night. He embraced Harry and whispered into his ear: "Now I
know why you love her."
Sirius was preparing to say some sort of awkward good night to Parvati, when she leaned over to
him and kissed him on the cheek. "We will expect you at the Parvati estate at Christmas. Harry will
give you the details in an owl, if I don't get a chance to see you before then."
"What?" Sirius said, blinking in shock.
Parvati gave him a soft smile. "Well, Harry's going to be there for the first few days of the
Christmas holiday, but you didn't really think we would deprive you of your first Christmas
together with him, did you?" she said, her smile broadening.
Sirius gaped, still not sure what to say. Suddenly, she put her hands on her hips and shook her head.
"Boys! No matter what their age, they are so thick! I said that you are coming to my house for
Christmas. Now close your mouth and nod your head!"
Sirius nodded, but still looked open mouthed at the young witch in front of him.
"Well, I guess that will have to do," she said, turning to Harry. "Harry, I guess you'll have to be the
grownup in the family. Do you think he can find his way home or is he going to stand there all
night?"
Harry gave Sirius a soft smile. Then he hugged Sirius again. "Hey, old man. I guess I'll be seeing
you at Christmas, if I don't get a chance to see you before then."
Sirius looked at Harry. "Did she really...?"
"Christmas dinner...oh, and don't expect a roast and Yorkshire pudding. It'll probably be goose," he
said, chucking Sirius under the chin.
As Harry and Parvati walked off arm-in-arm, Sirius shook his head. 'Christmas dinner with Harry
and Parvati and her family,' he thought. 'Wow.'
***
Parvati put her arm around Harry's waist and leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked
back toward Hogwarts. "Let's just walk," she said.
Harry's thoughts were a jumble. How was she able to do these things, like getting Sirius to talk
about his experiences like he never done so to Harry. And then lift Sirius's mood instantly with just
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the right thing--an invitation to Christmas dinner.
Had she known of Sirius's depression about the upcoming holidays? Harry was going to refuse
Parvati's invitation in order to stay with his godfather until Sirius threatened to leave the country
rather than to spend the holidays with someone stupid enough to turn down four days with his girl.
But Parvati was now leaning heavily on him. She seemed unusually quiet. Harry was about to say
something when a figure stepped out of the shadows.
"Well, if it isn't the 'Boy Wonder' and the slut who destroyed my family," said Draco Malfoy, his
voice full of venom.
"You..." Harry growled, as he reached for his wand. But Parvati suddenly released her arm from
around his waist and grabbed his right hand.
She raised her head from Harry's shoulder languidly and looked at the silver-blonde haired foe, who
was looking almost feral in his hatred.
"Oh, lighten up, Malfoy," she said.
Then Harry heard her utter: "Titillatio," and Malfoy jerked. Then jerked again. The he fell to the
ground and began rolling uncontrollably on the roadway.
Parvati looked up at Harry with tired eyes. "You can always count on a good itching charm to
lighten up a tense situation," she said with a forced smile.
"Parvati, are you all right," Harry said, worried as he eyed Malfoy, who continued to grimace and
squirm on the cold ground.
"Sure, Harry. Now let's get out of here."
They walked in silence down the lakeside road. Harry had never seen her down and was at a loss as
to what to say to help relieve her mood or give her support. Finally, he spoke. "Technically
speaking, we're not supposed to do magic off school grounds," he said in a forced attempt at humor.
"As a prefect, I could deduct house points, you know."
Parvati looked up and smiled wanly at him and gave him a squeeze.
She sighed. "Well, if you're going to be technical about it, you'll have to prove it was me," she said
with a slight hint of humor.
She slowly withdrew a wand from her coat and casually snapped it in two.
Harry stopped and gasped. "Parvati...???"
Her smile broadened, but did not quite reach her eyes. "Harry, would you be a dear and throw these
pieces into the lake for me? As far as you can?"
Harry was stunned. "But...your wand?"
Parvati continued to smile, her mood elevating slowly as a note of mischief crept across her
expression.
"Promise you won't tell?" she asked.
Harry was staring at her. "But...your wand?" he repeated.
"Promise?" She asked again.
Harry was getting upset. "Okay, I promise. But what about your wand?"
Some life was now back in Parvati's face. "Oh, this? This isn't my wand. Now do be a dear and toss
it in the lake."
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Finally, Harry took the pieces of the wand and threw them out into the water. "Now are you going
to explain? What's going on?"
Parvati grabbed him around the waist and steered him back toward Hogwarts. "Harry, I told you
how my family imports potion ingredients, right?"
Harry looked at her, puzzled. "Yes?"
She sighed. "Well, they also import other magical products. Like wands. Places like Ollivanders in
Daigon Alley, Tarn's in Edinburgh, and Cuchulain's in Dublin import directly or make their own,
but the smaller wand shops in England use firms like Patils Imports to restock."
Harry nodded, still puzzled.
"Well, my sister Lakshmi was doing a thorough inventory of one of our warehouses and came
across several boxes of old wands that were supposed to be shipped to a Cornish wand shop back in
the 1930s. Apparently, the shop went out of business and my grandfather or one of my great uncles
simply stuck the boxes in the back of the warehouse and forgot about them."
Harry was surprised. "How many?"
Parvati shrugged. "About four gross."
Harry stopped. "Parvati, that's almost 600 wands. At, what, seven galleons a piece, that's a fortune.
How could they simply toss them aside?"
Parvati blinked in mild surprise. "Seven Galleons?"
Harry looked at her in confusion. "That's what mine cost."
She gave him a puzzled look. "Not at Ollivanders, was it?"
Harry shrugged and nodded.
Parvati's confusion deepened. "Harry, an Ollivander wand starts at about thirty Galleons, and can
cost up to eighty or more. Let's see yours."
Harry reached into his robe and withdrew his wand. "Don't tell Moody," he muttered as he handed it
to her.
She looked up at him. "Why not?"
"He's always going on about never letting anyone else take your wand. You're not a Death Eater in
disguise, are you?" he asked with a chuckle.
Parvati giggled, then looked at the wand. "Holly," she said quietly. "What's the core?"
Harry pursed his lips. "Phoenix feather."
Parvati nodded and lifted her wand, then paused, looking around. "We're on school grounds."
Harry looked up and nodded.
Parvati nodded. "Good. This is my wand." She uttered an illuminatus spell, giving them some light.
She turned Harry's wand to check the handle's butt end. Then she gasped.
"Harry? This is a Herus."
Harry blinked and shrugged.
Parvati stared at him. "Look," she said, holding the base of the wand up for him to see,
Harry shrugged again. "It says 'HH 36.' So?"
She sighed. "Heironymous Herus was one of the most gifted wand makers ever. He was the DADA
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Professor at Hogwarts for years and made wands in his spare time. He was very powerful. This
must have been one of the last ones he made. He died around 1936 or so, one of the first major
victims of Grindelwald. And it is said that he put everything he knew into those last wands to help
in the fight against Grindelwald. That's the date of your wand. 1936."
Harry nodded. "That makes sense. That's probably how he got the feather. It's from Professor
Dumbledore's phoenix, Faulkes."
Parvati looked up at Harry. "That's probably why it only cost you seven Galleons. Ollivander takes
an initial 50% markup, then never changes the price. Seven Galleons in 1936 is like a hundred
Galleons now. And Ollivander never found someone for this wand for over 50 years. Wow."
Harry shrugged. "It has a sister wand, you know," he said quietly.
Parvati looked up with a curious expression. "Who?"
"Voldemort," Harry said in a whisper.
Parvati closed her eyes and sighed, returning Harry's wand. Nodding, she turned and began to walk
slowly toward the castle with Harry by her side.
Finally, Harry cleared his throat. "So I got a bargain, then?"
Parvati let out a small laugh. "I guess."
As they strolled together toward the castle, Harry gave Parvati a sidelong glance. "But what about
your wand?"
Parvati glanced back. "Like I said, it wasn't my wand."
Harry nodded. "So it was one of your sister's wands you found. At thirty Galleons apiece, that must
be like striking gold in your back yard," he said with an amazed chuckle.
Parvati smiled. "No, Harry. They weren't top line wands. Not Gregoroviches or Zauberhafts. And
certainly no Heruses. Simply every day, basic wands. Fifteen Galleons each, maybe."
Harry turned to continue walking with her. "But...I still don't understand..."
Parvati squeezed him a little tighter. "Simple. A girl has to be prepared. And sometimes she has to
defend herself. And a nasty little spell against someone who is causing you problems usually does
the trick. The problem is that a nasty little spell can get a witch into trouble with the ministry. But if
you seriously hex a boy, or a man, and he complains, you can always say, 'Oh no, sir. It wasn't me.
He was always that small. Here. Test my wand and see. I didn't do it'," she said in a sing-song
voice, batting her eyelashes.
Harry stopped again and stared.
Parvati chuckled. "That, and I can't be cited for practicing underaged magic since the Ministry can't
trace the magic to my wand, just some anonymous one with no connection to me."
And then he threw his head back and laughed. "Oh my God. I better watch my step," he said with a
sparkle in his eyes. "I hope you don't have any more spare wands about."
Parvati flashed a smile. "Only about a dozen that Lavender and I keep on hand in case of
emergency. That's how I could give Neville a spare wand a couple months ago to record messages
to his parents."
Harry drew her close and they kissed. Parvati broke it off before it became too intense.
"Harry, I think I just want to go back to the house tonight. Maybe talk. And maybe you could hold
me. I hope you don't mind."
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"Sure, sweetheart," he said with only a little disappointment. It had been an emotionally charged
night for him, as well, and he didn't mind.
***
The common room was in its normal chaotic state for a Hogsmeade weekend when Harry and
Parvati arrived. It was late and most of the upperclassmen had returned from Hogsmeade but were
still in high spirits. The only ones, aside from the first and second years, who didn't seem to be in a
rowdy mood were Hermione and Ron, who were keeping company a lot more when Harry and
Parvati weren't around. Ron's eyes lit up when he saw Harry, but Harry gave a little shake of his
head to warn his friend off for the moment.
Parvati surveyed the uproar. "Oh, dear," she said quietly.
Harry, sensing her need to talk and for some solitude, offered to find his invisibility cloak and take
her up to the Astronomy Tower or someplace else that was quiet.
She shook her head. "Let's just find a place to sit and wait for things to quiet down," she said.
Harry surveyed the room. The only quiet place in the entire common room was in the far corner,
which the first years had claimed as their domain. There was a vacant love seat against the wall, but
Harry knew he would be infringing on one of the few privileges the first years had by taking it.
Then he saw Willie Peters, who seemed to be the natural heir to the Weasley twins when it came to
jokes and tricks. Despite his being a constant source of mischief, especially as Harry was a prefect
and duty-bound to keep him in line, Harry and Willie had formed something of a friendship. And
Willie was one of the few first years who treated him like a normal person, rather than some hero to
be worshipped.
Willie was staring at the couple with a curious look on his face when Harry tossed him a package of
sweets from Honeydukes, treats he bought for the first and second years who were too young to
enjoy Hogsmeade, something that Harry had been doing for the past few Hogsmeade weekends.
Suddenly, Willie handed the package to Pat McGrady to distribute and turned to some of his fellow
first years and whispered. They all looked at Willie and nodded.
Harry braced himself with a small smile for whatever mischief might be coming next and began to
turn away. But instead, Willie walked up to Harry and Parvati. "Would you like to sit in the quiet
chair?" he asked.
Harry looked at him, puzzled. "The quiet chair?"
Willie smiled. "Sure. Back in primary wizarding school, when someone would act up, the teacher
would always make us sit in the quiet chair away from everyone else. Now, when one of us is
causing problems among the first years, we tell them to go sit in the quiet chair. Or sometimes one
or two of us just want to sit there and be alone. But you can use it if you want. It's okay."
Harry and Parvati looked at each other and smiled. She turned to the other first years. "We'd like
that, if it's all right with all of you."
The rest of the first years nodded enthusiastically. "We can even turn it around so you can be more
alone," said Maura Duffy, Moira Duffy's little sister and usually Willie's partner in crime when
mischief was afoot.
"Thank you," Parvati said with a smile, and several of the first years jumped to the task of turning
the chair to face away from most of the common room.
Moments later, after Harry and Parvati sat down in the quiet chair, Seamus, Lavender and Dean
burst into the common room after an evening of fun. Seamus spotted Harry and Parvati in the
239
corner and shouted "Hey you two, get a room."
But suddenly Willie stood up with a stern look on his face, Then Maura. Then the other first years
did the same.
Seamus looked at then and gulped. "Oops. Sorry," he said with a bemused look on his face.
***
Parvati snuggled into Harry's arms and was quiet.
Harry, stroking her shoulder absently, was a little concerned. Over the past two months, he had seen
her exultant, sullen, excited, angry, and tired, but he had never seen her quiet.
"Are you all right, sweetheart?" he asked quietly.
She mewed a small sigh.
Harry stared out into space, beginning to get angry. "If Malfoy ever bothers you, just let me know.
I'll take care of him."
Parvati sighed. "It's not Malfoy," she said in a whisper. "Although I'd watch myself around him.
Half of Slytherin House hated him before Voldemort and his father's death. Now, with Crabbe and
Goyle gone and him here only on sufferance, he's got nobody left."
Harry turned to look at her. "Not even Pansy?"
Parvati snorted. "She was the first to turn her back on him, the little tramp. You saw how she was
after you."
Harry smiled. "You mean she might still available..." he said teasingly and got a playful pinch for
his effort.
"No, Blaise says Pansy's talking to him again. But he's pretty much alone. Maybe one or two of the
younger people there still talk to him, but he's still withdrawn, from what I hear. He could be going
a little mental."
Harry sighed. It was hard to feel sorry for Malfoy, even after his beating. But Harry had seen how
morose his rival had grown, and he did feel a trace of pity for the boy.
Harry pulled her a little closer. "So what is it?"
Parvati shrugged, trying to snuggle a little closer. "I don't know...I'm just so sad about all that
happened to Sirius. He seems like a good man, but you can tell how much it still haunts him. I don't
know."
Harry sighed. Yes, Sirius was a good man. But to have so much taken away from him, so many
years, so many friends and family.
"I was hoping that he wouldn't talk too much about what happened to him. I thought it would
depress you," he said.
She sat there quietly against him for a few moments. "Harry, you know what my favorite subject of
conversation is?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Clothes?" he said with a small grin.
Parvati made a face at him. "No. The thing I like to talk about most is me. And you know what your
favorite topic of conversation is...besides Quidditch...and sex?"
Harry blushed. "No, what?"
"Your favorite topic of conversation is you. It's something I learned early on. Everybody loves to
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talk about themselves," she said quietly. "And you know what that means?"
Harry shook his head.
"It means that everybody is out there looking for a listener. That's why I like you so much, Harry.
You are one of the few boys...one of the few people...I've ever met who can listen."
Harry grunted, noncommittally.
Parvati turned to look at Harry directly. "The problem is that sometimes the people who need to talk
the most are the ones who can't seem to bring themselves to do so. I know you've talked, and I
know you've listened, to Sirius. That's the way you are."
"But you're both too close to each other for Sirius to be able to open up fully. He sees himself as
almost like your father. And I'm sure he can't really open up for fear of damaging whatever
authority his advice might carry with you. How can you take the advice of someone who has more
troubles than you do...who is less able to cope that you are?"
Harry lowered his head. "He tries to be like a father to me. And I try to listen to him."
Parvati sighed. "But don't you see? He can't, really. At least not to you. He needed someone like me
to open up to. Someone who is close enough, I suppose, but not too close. Even though you were
there, it was like he was finally able to express his sorrow and pain to someone without damaging
your relationship with him."
Harry nodded slowly and leaned his head against hers, taking in the exotic spice-like smell of her
dark, glossy hair. After a minute or so of silence, he murmured: "How'd you get so wise?"
She chuckled softly. "It wasn't my fault. It comes from being the youngest in a large, crazy family."
"Hmmm?"
Parvati closed her eyes and snuggled against him.
Harry opened his eyes in slits. "What do you mean?" he whispered.
Parvati took a deep, satisfied breath. "Padma and I were the babies of our family. And our older
brothers and sister would take turns babysitting for us. They would tell us stories. My favorite was
when Hanuman would tell us of his mischievous namesake, who was a monkey minister and a
prankster as a child."
Harry chuckled. "I wish I had brothers and sisters to take care of me," he said wistfully, and Parvati
gave him a squeeze.
She leaned against him again, talking as if to herself. "But often, when they ran out of stories or
were upset, they would tell us their problems, or their dreams. Padma and I would listen for as long
as they wanted. About boyfriends or girlfriends, teachers or classmates, enemies or friends. We
loved to listen to them. I think we just wanted to know what it was like to be grown up like them,
even Gani who was only six years older than us. When we were little, anyone that old was a
grownup."
Harry chuckled softly. "So you and Padma were alike in that," he asked.
"Well, yes and no," she said. "I mostly wanted to listen to my brothers and sister, to understand
what their lives were like. On the other hand, Padma was a lot like Hermione. She would want to
race around to try to find the answers to their problems. Once we were a little older, she got to be
almost as big a library ghost as Hermione is now."
"So why isn't she in Gryffindor with us?"
Parvati shrugged. "Well, Padma would sometimes go overboard. She would listen to our brothers'
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and sister's problems and then start asking inappropriate questions of our parents or the rest of the
family."
"The final straw was one day when we were about eight she saw some boy that Lakshmi was pining
over and went up to him and yelled at him for making our sister cry. Lakshmi was furious and
screamed and cried at Padma something awful. Padma was upset for days after that and I couldn't
seem to console her. After that, she would still try to find answers to our family's problems, but
would always come to me with whatever she found. We would weigh the merits of what she found
but I would always be the one to suggest them to other members of the family, not her."
"From that time on, she was always afraid that she would do or say something inappropriate. That's
probably why she's so reserved now. She's probably even more so now that we don't see each other
as much. I really do miss her, though. It's really not the same when you have to work it into your
schedule to talk to your own twin sister," she said with a sigh.
Harry wrapped both arms around her and stroked her back soothingly as she wept quietly. He didn't
try to talk to her. He knew her listening to Sirius, the confrontation with Malfoy and her bittersweet
reminiscences about her sister had taken an emotional toll and he was only glad to be there for her.
They held each other long into the night.
***
Sirius was in a daze. He had wandered back to his cramped apartment, but he had too much nervous
energy and the room was too small to pace in. So he went outside again and wandered the streets of
Hogsmeade for nearly a half hour. But he realized he needed someone to talk to. He apparated.
Remus Lupin was also restless. He knew he was only two days away from the full moon and a day
away from using the potion Snape continued to prepare for him. He would have preferred to
continue work on the elementary text on Defense Against the Dark Arts that the publishing arm of
Flourish & Blotts had contracted him to write, but he simply was too restless.
Lupin shook his head. Voldemort's inactivity took some of the urgency away from his work with
the Order of the Phoenix. It was only Sirius' suggestion that he tail along incognito while trolling
the underworld for information that gave Remus a real feel of contributing to the war against the
Dark Arts. Had he still been at Hogwarts teaching, that would have been a different story. But now,
with things on hold and Sirius free and living at Hogsmeade to be near Harry, Remus had little to
occupy his time except his writing.
He was pleased that he was able to make a living writing. He was able to put food on the table as an
associate editor at Oddbins, a small literary and cultural magazine for the wizarding world, even
though it annoyed him to hear people call it Dustbins, the literary route of last resort for witches and
wizards who thought they could write. And he had sold an article to Gentleman Wizard, an analysis
of the Voldemort threat, which he was told would be given the alarming title: The Werewolf Who
Stalked The Dark Lord. But they paid well, and on time, so he wasn't about to complain, even
though the story would probably be lost among the photo spreads of wiggling, scantily clad young
witches.
But it was a solitary life. He knew he could count on his old friend Sirius to be there for him during
full moons and whenever the urge struck old Padfoot to see his old friend Moony. But he no longer
had the day-to-day interaction and planning, the excitement and fear, that was the lot of those who
had fought an active Voldemort. Remus chuckled at the thought that he even missed the regular
verbal sparring sessions with his old nemesis, Snape.
So Remus was delighted when Sirius apparated into his study a day early.
***
242
"Moony, you old sod! I'm here to liberate you from that dustbin you call a literary life!" Sirius
exclaimed upon apparating in.
Remus, surprised, laughed. "Padfoot, you old dog. I hope you've eaten as we are fresh out of soup
bones and kibble."
The two embraced, patting each other on the back like long lost mates. Sirius then threw himself
down of the settee in Remus's drawing room/library. "I hear your posing in Gentleman Wizard.
Shouldn't that be in The Lady Witch magazine. Either way, sales will no doubt plummet."
Lupin had to laugh at Sirius's high spirits. Too often over the past couple months, his friend had
been dour and uncommunicative. The clearing of his name had done little for Sirius except to allow
him to walk on the streets without fear of arrest. But people still tended to avoid his friend Padfoot.
After all, he had spent the past fourteen years in Azkaban or on the run. And one look at Sirius's
haunted eyes seemed, to many people in the wizarding world, to belie the ministry's very public
announcement of Sirius's innocence.
"And to what do I owe the honor of your unexpected, but nonetheless, most esteemed presence in
my humble digs tonight?" Remus said archly, trying to stifle a grin.
"I have come to give you my regrets, kind sir. I will not be able to spend Christmas with your
honorable family. I will be with my godson, Harry," he said with a grin.
Remus was a little disappointed. He would have enjoyed Sirius's company during the holidays.
"Well, bring young Harry along. I'm sure my aunt Matilda with will shave before giving our young
hero a big wet kiss," he said with a heartiness he didn't feel.
"Oh, I'll be along after Christmas. I couldn't resist a good snog with Aunt Matilda. But Harry will be
indisposed, quite deliciously I might add, at the home of his future in-laws," he said, laughing at the
same joke he had used on Harry earlier.
Remus raised his eyebrows. "You mean he's going to the Patil's for the holiday break? Is it serious,
Sirius?"
Sirius groaned. "That's twice tonight...so far, anyway."
Remus laughed and Sirius pouted, then his face lit up again.
"I must say, Harry has himself quite a young lady there. I'd met her a couple times when I came to
see him at the hospital wing. I could see he was quite smitten, but I thought she was just a pretty
face..."
"I know," Remus said in curiosity. "I taught her in her third year. She was a slightly better than
average student, but nothing special. A little giggly if you ask me, shaking an armful of bracelets at
every opportunity. But you could tell then that she was going to be a real beauty, along with her
sister."
"That she is. If she were ten years older..."
"...or you were twenty years younger," Remus said with a smile.
But Sirius's face became more distant. "Yes, I suppose you could get the impression that she was
somewhat giggly at first. But I talked with her tonight..."
Remus looked at his friend curiously. "You talked?"
"More like I talked and she listened. The three of us went out for dinner in Hogsmeade. And
somehow she got me to tell her about it all. Things that I've never told anyone except you and Albus
and Harry...and some things not even Harry had heard before." He sighed.
243
Remus frowned. "That must have been pleasant," he said flatly.
Sirius was now staring off into space. "It wasn't like she wanted to hear all the gory details...like
wanting to stare at a splinch. It was almost like she was less interested in what I said, but more that
she wanted me to say it. I don't know...does that make any sense?"
Remus stared at his friend for a long time. "Like a sin eater," he murmured.
Sirius blinked. "A what...?"
Remus shook his head in confusion. "Oh, it's something I've read about. You know, like a Christian
confession has a cathartic effect on the sinner. Well, some aboriginal tribes...don't ask me where, I
don't remember...you go to the sin eater and unload all the guilt and the crap that's bothering you on
to them. They take up your burden for you."
"Huh?" Sirius grunted, still confused.
Remus shook his head. "She was just trying to help you get some of your pain out of your system.
We talk. But sometimes you need someone who isn't so close to you to talk to. That's why
psychiatrists make so much money in the Muggle world. It's called unburdening. I'm amazed that
someone so young and...well...some pretty young thing like Parvati would be able to do that. Maybe
she has a gift."
Sirius was becoming uncomfortable. "I just hope I didn't spoil their evening."
Remus shrugged. "So Harry misses a night of snogging. He'll live. It's something you've needed to
do for a long time."
"He's not just snogging," Sirius said in a low voice.
Remus jerked his head up to face Sirius. "You're not serious?"
" 'Serious, Sirius'...you missed your chance, Moony. And, yes, he is. From what he told me, and
judging by the level of his blushing, I have no reason to doubt him, they've been doing it for a
month now. Ahhh, to be young again," Sirius said with a soft smile.
"But...but...they're, what, fifteen? What'll happen if McGonagall finds out...or Rita Skeeter?"
Sirius threw his head back and laughed. "The papers have already planted that notion in the public's
mind, or haven't you been reading them. All that 'Lovers' Showdown in the Forbidden Forest'
rubbish. And as to McGonagall, she apparently took them aside to teach them the facts of life,
including charms. From the way Harry tells it, half the faculty has taken a keen interest in this,
including old Mad Eye, Flitwick...hell, even that old virgin Snape, himself, did a blushing soft shoe
about potions, according to Harry."
Remus had by now collapsed in laughter. "I can just see him. 'Mister Potter, what do the birds have
to do with the bees...oh, please...no need to illustrate'."
Sirius was gasping for air now. "No. According to Harry, he did a big stuttering act. 'Ahhh...Mister
Potter....ahhh...Madame Pomfrey...ahhh...and potions...ahhh..."
The two were now laughing hysterically.
Remus was the first to catch his breath. "Padfoot...I think you're a bad influence on your godson. If
he grows up to be a rake-hell, I'm sure we'll be able to thank you. And I'm doubly sure he will thank
you," he said, still chuckling.
Sirius looked over fondly at his old friend. "You know, I don't think he will. He really likes this girl.
He said he'd gladly forego the shagging as long as she stayed by his side. He's something special,
that boy."
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Remus nodded his head, smiling. "That he is, Sirius. That he is."
***
Remus' monthly transformations had not been so bad recently since Snape had been sending him
the Wolfsbane potion. But still, they took a lot out of Remus.
And they took a lot out of Sirius, as well. So he was almost as happy as Remus when the moon
phase changed to allow his friend to relax and recover.
Remus was still a little keyed up as Sirius poured another glass of Ravensblood wine as the two
faced each other in the werewolf's study. Then, an owl appeared, disturbing the silence.
Sirius blinked as the owl flew over and perched on his shoulder.
"Fan mail?" a tired-eyed Lupin said with a lazy smile.
Sirius fed the owl a bit of biscuit and slowly opened the letter. His face took on a surprised and
puzzled aspect.
Remus chuckled. "Another lady admirer, no doubt."
Sirius looked up. "I don't know. It's from Lakshmi Patil, the older sister of Harry's girl. Shane's
younger sister. She wants to meet me for lunch."
Remus' chuckling increased. "Oh, you are such a dog, Padfoot. Captured another heart, did you?"
Sirius frowned. "I doubt that...more like she in desperate need to scream at someone, and I fit the
bill." Maybe she wanted to give him hell about his dinner conversation with Parvati. Or maybe it
was something else. Sirius couldn't help but wonder.
245
CHAPTER 15 DANCING
Lakshmi Patil stood impatiently just inside the entrance of the Three Broomsticks. She knew what
she wanted to say to Sirius Black, but wasn't sure how to say it without sounding like a fool. And
she wasn't sure how she would be received. But she had to talk to him.
Suddenly, he was there, smiling that wolfish grin of his. Lakshmi had to admit that he had filled out
nicely. She recalled the first time she had met the legendary fugitive, while visiting Parvati in the
Hogwarts infirmary. He had an almost feral presence. Now, he still looked dangerous, but for other
reasons.
"Miss Patil? I am at your service," Sirius said with a glint in his eye. "Provided, of course, you're
not here to hex me into next week as I feared you would the last time we met."
Lakshmi chuckled uncertainly. "We shall see, Mr. Black."
Sirius took a good look at his luncheon companion. He was wary. She didn't seem angry. If
anything, she seemed a little nervous. Quite unlike her self-assured younger sister. It was interesting
to compare Lakshmi to her sister Parvati. She was fairly attractive, with long black hair like her
sister. And there was a family resemblance. But Lakshmi's features were softer than Parvati's, and
her bone structure wasn't as striking. And, as he had noted before, while Parvati was slim and
athletic looking, Lakshmi was just a little rounder. Not that Sirius had any problem with that. He
preferred the curves.
Sirius noticed that, as she had in his last meeting in the Muggle restaurant, Lakshmi was wearing
tailored business attire, but in this case, more attuned to the Wizarding world. Her business robes
were expensive but somewhat severely cut. And again, she was wearing a prim blouse with a
fashionable scarf under her robes.
"Shall we sit?" he said with a smile.
***
Lakshmi proved to be skilled in the art of small talk, chatting idly about business, her family and
Hogwarts. However, Sirius was not used to the niceties of the business lunch.
He stared intently at her as he caught her eye, which she seemed to be studiously trying to avoid.
But once he had her full attention, he frowned. "You didn't ask me here to complain about the price
of tea in China, did you?" he said with a cocked eyebrow.
She flushed a little and lowered her head. "No..." she said quietly. "There actually were a couple
things I wanted to talk to you about."
Sirius intensified his gaze. "And they are...?"
She shifted as she poked at her Caesar salad. "Well, we would like you to come to our estate on
Friday the 22nd, the same day as Parvati, Padma and Harry, and stay through Christmas," she said
quietly.
Sirius nodded, suddenly pleased. When Parvati mentioned her family's holiday invitation, he had
assumed it would be just for Christmas dinner, not for several days. "I would like that," he said
quietly with a tentative smile.
Lakshmi then launched into a series of instructions about flooing to the Patil estate, insisting that
Sirius write down her precise instructions.
Finally, Sirius nodded his head. "Okay, that's settled. Now, was there something else you wanted to
246
talk to me about?"
Lakshmi again lowered her head, red spots forming on her cheeks. "I wanted to apologize," she said
in a voice that could barely be heard.
Sirius tilted his head in confusion. "What?"
Lakshmi glanced up at Sirius anxiously. "I wanted to say I was sorry for the way I treated you the
last time we met."
Sirius again tilted his head and waited.
She frowned in concentration. "Look, I get very protective of Shane and Janine. It's just my way.
But I think I stepped over the line in talking to you. I never meant to hurt your friendship with
Shane, okay?"
Sirius shrugged. "I don't think you did that," he said quietly.
Lakshmi toyed with her salad absently. "So why haven't you two worked together since our last
meeting?"
Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. We have different agendas. He's an Auror. I have other reasons to ...
well try to find out information."
Lakshmi sighed. "But you are after the same things. And Shane thought you two worked well
together."
Sirius lowered his head. She was right. But he had felt, perhaps for the first time since his Marauder
days, that he had in Shane someone to have adventures with. But he had begun to think maybe that
it was time to leave those days behind and grow up, for Shane's sake as much as his own. If he ever
did anything to hurt his friend's marriage, he'd never forgive himself.
Suddenly, Lakshmi reached across the table to grasp Sirius' arm. "He misses you."
Sirius gave her a puzzled look.
She sighed. "Do you know how hard it is for an Auror, especially one who works undercover, to
find a friend? One who understands what he does?"
Sirius shrugged.
Lakshmi looked up at Sirius. "There's no one at work he can talk to...or trust," she said, giving him
a serious look. "The Auror service is a snake pit. There are so many conflicting agendas that no one
knows who to trust. You have the Fudge faction, the Masterson factor, the time-servers, ones who
no one knows who they serve, possible Death Eaters, careerists looking for advancement, old-timers
who think they're still battling Grindelwald, zealots who will turn on their comrades in a heartbeat if
they think they step out of line, and nincompoops who never belonged in the Auror service in the
first place. Somehow, Shane found in you someone he felt he could trust. Someone who he could
talk to. And it's killing him that you aren't there for him."
Sirius lowered his head in sorrow. He had thought of Shane as a friend, and part of that was his
ability to share his thoughts and to be able to listen to the young man's concerns. He simply nodded
in understanding.
Lakshmi took a deep breath. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, or hurt your feelings.
It's just that I run into so many wizards on the make in my job, sales types and customers who think
I'm part of the service provided by the firm, that I can get a little...intense. Sometimes I assume
someone like...well attractive and smooth...is out for only one thing. And won't think twice about
corrupting...well bringing their friends along for the ride," she said with a frown. Then her look
softened. "I'm sorry. I don't think that about you. Not any more."
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Sirius frowned, but then reconsidered. Lakshmi was blunt, maybe overly so. But she did have a
point. And maybe she did have cause to be concerned. After all, he wasn't above a little mischief
and didn't always give much thought to the consequences. It was only now that he was beginning to
realize that he wasn't a teenager any more.
He gave a vague nod. "You were right in a lot of what you said. I guess I just overreacted a little,
myself." Then Sirius looked up at Lakshmi with a glint in his eye. "And I guess I miss Shane, too.
Who else will defend my honor in the face of the demimonde."
Lakshmi burst out laughing. "Demimonde? That's a Ravenclaw word! Where would a Gryffindor
learn a word like that? I thought the you'd use something like 'tarts'."
Sirius chuckled. "I've always preferred 'round-heeled ladies' myself."
Lakshmi giggled. "Not 'the morally challenged'?"
Sirius shook his head. "Try 'fallen flowers'."
"Or 'women of easy virtue'."
Sirius shook his head with a grin. "How about 'women who are horizontally adept'?"
The two burst out in laughter, causing several of the other patrons to turn their heads in curiosity.
And somehow, the lunch that had started out tense and uncertain surprisingly turned into a
delightful diversion for both of them. And Sirius began to realize that this was the first grown-up
conversation he'd had with a woman in many years, if ever.
***
"Well, Potter, you asked for help. And now, Professor Flitwick has offered it."
Harry smiled as his gaze turned from Moody to the diminutive Charms professor. "Thank you,
Professor Flitwick."
Filius Flitwick loved to teach. He saw in each new student the potential to become a great wizard or
witch. In moments of reflection, he sighed as so few achieved the level of proficiency they were
capable of.
And, for the past four years, Harry Potter was one of the students that brought more than his share
of sighs. Then young Harry approached him after class last Monday with a series of questions about
using charms in defense and dueling and Flitwick felt a spark that he often longed to feel as a
teacher but he only rarely experienced. And so tiny Filius Flitwick was positively glowing to be
down in the DADA classroom on a Wednesday evening to see what experience and knowledge he
could pour into a suddenly willing and open young mind.
"You wished to know about charms and dueling?"
Harry nodded. "A few weeks ago, I was trying to show some students basic shielding spells. Luna
Lovegood volunteered to demonstrate something. When I tried to hex her, she used a summoning
charm to block the hex with a pile of trunks. I'd never thought of that. I've been wondering what
else I haven't thought of. And Professor Moody mentioned you had been a dueling champion when
you were younger ..."
Flitwick's smile became positively dazzling. And so he began to show Harry the wealth of things
that the young Gryffindor never thought of before.
***
Harry sat on the podium of the unused classroom and gave a small smile. Here was the core of the
group that taught Defense to the younger students. There was Hannah and Ernie from Hufflepuff.
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Kevin Entwhistle, Mandy Brocklehurst and Morag Macdougal, along with Luna Lovegood and the
ever frowning Amy Hattan from Ravenclaw. There was Ron, Hermione and Parvati from
Gryffindor. And most surprising, the was Blaise Zabini, who had proved to be an adept and intense
student of Defense, from Slytherin.
And then there was Mike Gillespie. Gillespie had promised to get the sixth and seventh-year
students involved in the project. Harry had feared Gillespie would overwhelm him as had happened
the other times he had opened up these 'lessons' to newcomers. But Gillespie was nothing if not
circumspect.
Only a handful of upper-class students wandered into the seventh floor classroom, looking furtively
around. Harry bit his tongue as they gathered. It was less a who's who of the sixth and seventh years
as it was a Quidditch meeting. There was Fred and George Weasley, along with Katie Bell, Alicia
Spinnet, and Lee Jordan from Gryffindor. From Hufflepuff, there was Andy Stebbins, the seventhyear beater, and Alex Summerby, the sixth-year chaser who Gillespie had beaten out for the seeker
position on the team. Only the Ravenclaws seemed to stray from the Quidditch mould. John
McKinnon was a seventh-year prefect who was from one of the great old Wizarding families that
had suffered horribly during Voldemort's first rise. Jake Prewett, a sixth year, had family with a
similar experience. Finally, there was Stella Fawcett, who was at the top academically of the sixthyear class, who Harry knew only from her ill-fated attempt to age herself prematurely to qualify for
the TriWizard Tournament last year.
George smiled at Harry. "Angelina said she couldn't come because she had to tend to Head Girl
duties. Mostly, I think, that means she's keeping everyone off this floor to give us cover," he said
with a wink.
The group exchanged pleasantries when finally, McKinnon stepped forward. "Harry Potter. Nice to
finally be able to shake your hand," he said solemnly. Harry blushed and took the proffered hand.
Then McKinnon's frown deepened. "I heard about your fight with the Dark One from our Quidditch
team," he said levelly. "They said you were powerful, and I believe them. But mere power isn't
enough in a duel. You think you have things to teach us?"
Gillespie shifted and frowned at John McKinnon. "I believe this is an opportunity where we all can
share what we've learned."
McKinnon nodded. "I'd just like to see what he has," he said quietly.
Harry knit his brows. "You're talking about a duel?"
John nodded and gave Harry a narrow smile. "A friendly duel. No curses or serious hexes. Nothing
that hurts beyond a basic stinger. You game?"
Harry looked around the room. Several of his regulars from fifth year were scowling or raising quiet
objections, Hermione being the most vocal. After all, John McKinnon was known as one of the
best, if not the best, duelist at Hogwarts.
But Harry turned to McKinnon. Slowly a predatory smile crossed his face. "I'm game. There's a
couple of defensive spells I've wanted to try out."
McKinnon nodded, with his own tight-lipped smile. The rest of the group cleared away desks and
chairs as Harry took a careful look around the room. Finally, he nodded to himself.
He turned to face McKinnon, who had taken a position about 20 feet away. Harry slowly brought
his wand, which he was holding in both hands, up to his lips. "Mândan," he whispered. He then
turned sideways to McKinnon and nodded again to start the match.
"Protegere!" McKinnon exclaimed, putting up a shield charm. "Expelliarmus!"
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Harry felt the wand jump in his hand, but then settle back into his grip. He gave a small smile to a
surprised McKinnon.
Harry flicked his wand at a canvas drop-cloth in the corner and then pointed to McKinnon.
"Operire!"
Suddenly, McKinnon was engulfed in the canvas. As he fought to uncover himself, Harry pointed
to several desks on the side of the room. "Semper interpellarus!" be muttered, pointing at
McKinnon, who finally had banished the canvas.
Just as McKinnon shot a stinger, eight wooden desks suddenly interposed themselves between the
Ravenclaw and Harry, intercepting the hex. McKinnon darted to the side, only to have the hovering
desks follow his movements, always keeping themselves between him and Harry.
Harry stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, which was smooth stone. "Resilere," he muttered,
waving his wand at the ceiling, before shooting a stinger at an angle at the ceiling. The spell
rebounded back down over the hovering chairs and at John.
"What the hell?" McKinnon exclaimed, just as Harry tried again.
"Ow! Damn!" McKinnon shouted.
Harry then pointed his wand at the carpet that covered most of the room. "Volvere!" he exclaimed,
making a quick sweeping motion with his wand from behind him to about where John McKinnon
was standing beyond the hovering desks. Suddenly, the carpet began quickly to roll itself up, with
Harry jumping over the rapidly moving rug. It continued to roll forward, passing under the hovering
desks, hitting McKinnon's feet and knocking him over.
Harry heard McKinnon's wand clatter across the floor. "Accio wand!" Harry exclaimed.
Harry heard a growl as he banished the desks.
"Damn! Damn! Damn!" McKinnon kept muttering. Finally, the seventh-year looked up as he
rubbed his left knee. "Well? Don't just stand there looking. Give a man a hand, will you?"
Harry smiled and helped McKinnon to his feet. The Ravenclaw shook his head. "Not exactly what
I'd call proper dueling, but it did the trick," he said with a look of new-found respect slowly forming
on his face.
The rest of the group surrounded the duelists, with several laughing and others looking on in
surprise and awe.
McKinnon kept shaking his head. "I figured on a straight up duel," he muttered. "I wasn't ready for
all that," he said with a chuckle.
"Why didn't the expelliarmus spell work?" Hermione asked in wide-eyed amazement. "Were you
shielded? I never heard your shield spell."
Harry looked around and shrugged. "It's something I read about. It's a foil for a disarming spell. I
figured that would be the first thing John would try. It's a standard dueling tactic to test your
opponent's strength and reaction time. The spell works as long as you are at least as powerful as
your opponent, letting you keep your wand. I didn't know if it would work, but I guess it did in this
case."
Everyone was babbling now, asking questions and rendering opinions, with Fred and George off to
the side challenging each other to an expelliarmus contest.
Again, Hermione frowned as Harry explained the spell. "Mândan? That's not Latin, is it?"
Harry shrugged. "It's very ancient magic that I read about in some notes somewhere," he said, with
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an uncomfortable look on his face. He couldn't tell her it was from Richard Burton's notebooks. "I
think it's Arabic or something."
After some discussion, including some probing questions to Harry by Hermione, the group settled
down to compare notes and plan the training of the student body.
***
"Dean?"
Dean looked up from his bed. He had been sulking for the better part of two weeks. First Angelina
had turned him down for the Yule Ball in favor of George Weasley. Then Megan Jones of
Hufflepuff declined in favor of Sam Lacey, a sixth year Ravenclaw. He shook his head sadly. There
was no way he would ask Sandy Johnson to the Ball again this year after last year's fiasco.
He didn't know what else to do. He thought Parvati and Padma Patil were two of the prettiest girls
in his year, but they were going with Harry and Terry Boot, respectively. And he couldn't seem to
work up the courage to approach, much less ask, Amy Hattan, who seemed angry and remote most
of the time. And then he heard she was going with some sixth-year Hufflepuff who was notorious
for his Muggle-style dancing.
He looked up to see Ron walk over to sit next to him. "What's up, Ron?"
Ron sighed. "You going to the Ball?"
Dean shrugged.
Ron fidgeted for a few moments. "You know, no one has asked Ginny yet."
Dean turned and gave his roommate a suspicious glance. "Gee, I wonder why not," he said
sarcastically.
Ron gave him a pained look. "Listen, I know I've been a prat. But she's upset and wants to kill me.
And she likes you well enough. Thinks you're kind of cute. Don't ask me why. But if you're not
going with anyone else, why not?"
Dean frowned. He did think Ginny was pretty. But he carried a lot of baggage from growing up
Black in a White Muggle world. Still, going with Ginny would be better than sitting around the
common room with the youngsters. He was tired. Tired of being an outsider. And Ginny was a lot
of fun. Why not, indeed?
Dean simply nodded and rose and left the dorm.
An hour later, Hermione walked up to Ron in the common room. "I guess I'll be going with you to
the Ball after all," she said with a smirk.
***
There were rules against girls coming up to the boys' dorms, but this was an emergency. A fashion
emergency.
"I am so bloody sick of green!" Harry exclaimed.
Parvati, who was sprawled on Harry's bed, sighed. "So don't wear green, okay," she said in
exasperation.
Harry rolled his eyes, looking at the bottle green formal robe Parvati had him buy. "But this robe
cost me sixty Galleons! You were there," he said in equal exasperation.
Parvati threw her hands up. "Oh, spare me. The reason it cost so much is it's a Richardson
AdaptaRobe. I must have told you a million times. Come here," she said as she got up.
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Harry walked over to the bed with a frown.
She reached out and opened the clasp. "Look. Here, here's the panel," she said, lifting a small patch
of cloth inside the inner breast area of the robe that seemed to resist her pulling slightly as if
attached with Velcro. "Touch your wand to it."
Harry obeyed, and saw a palette of 24 colors appear.
Parvati nodded. "Now, what do you want? How about powder blue. That really isn't your color, but
if that's what you want..."
Harry looked inside the robe at the panel. "What are these other pieces of cloth in here?"
Parvati leaned forward and touched her wand to each. "Okay, this one is the style of piping and
ornamentation. Everything from plain, to single line, to 'admiral of the ocean sea'," she said as she
touched the last option.
Harry stepped toward the mirror and chuckled as there was now an elaborate gold braid covering
his lapel, epaulets, sleeve cuffs and the robe's hem. "Oooo, I like it," he said in a falsetto voice.
Parvati giggled. "It's fine if you're planning to play the lead in H.M.S Pinafore, but I wouldn't be
caught dead next to someone wearing that."
Harry pressed another option and simple gold trim replaced the scrambled-egg braid. He turned to
Parvati. "How about this?" He pressed a panel and the gown turned a navy blue.
Parvati leaned back and frowned. "Try black."
Harry nodded and pressed the panel. The gown turned black.
Parvati frowned again. "How about dark gray?"
Harry pressed the panel, and the robe changed to a deep charcoal gray.
Parvati nodded, then walked over to check under the left lapel. She paused, and then pressed her
wand a couple times to the panel she found under there, and the lapel and high collar changed from
dark gray silk to black velvet. "That's better," she murmured.
She stepped back to look Harry up and down. "Try the silver trim again."
Harry reached into the robe and pressed another panel and a thin silver line appeared along the
hems and accent lines of the gown.
Suddenly, Parvati stopped. "Wait, what color are your accessories again? Red enamel on gold,
right?"
Harry blinked. "Accessories?" he asked in anxious confusion.
Parvati rolled her eyes. "The studs and cufflinks that came with the dress shirt."
Harry blinked again, this time in relief and recognition. "Oh, those things. You mean the buttons.
Why can't the shirt just have regular buttons or close using a charm or something?" he complained,
reaching into a small wooden box on his dresser.
Parvati nodded. "Red and gold. That means the trim will have to be gold....oh, forget the trim..."
Harry sighed in frustration at all the little details for something as simple as getting dressed. He
pressed the panel to eliminate the trim.
Parvati nodded in satisfaction. She stepped back to Harry and grabbed the robe to see how the shape
fell on his frame.
Harry squirmed. "It fits fine," he complained.
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Parvati rolled her eyes. "Look here," she said firmly.
Harry glanced down inside the robe.
"See how these panels along the seams are a little thicker? That shows you that this is adjustable.
When they say this is the last dress robe you'll ever need, they mean it, as long as you keep going
back every couple years to get the charms refreshed." she said with a chuckle.
"Yeah, at ten Galleons a visit," he muttered.
Parvati rolled her eyes for about the fifth time. "So, if you were to gain a couple hundred pounds,
you would still be able to wear this robe at formal occasions by holding your wand against the
panels to adjust them to expand the robe. Of course, you'd have to find someone else to go out with,
but at least you'd be well dressed," she said with a smirk.
After making minor adjustments, she sat back on Harry's bed. As he took one last close look at his
reflection in the mirror, Parvati casually reached down to the floor with her wand and, unnoticed by
Harry, touched each of his shoes and uttered a quiet charm.
As Harry turned to face her, she smiled at him. "Now, everything is perfect. Don't you dare fool
around with those panels until after the Ball. Understand?"
Harry pouted. "Yes, Mum."
Parvati smiled and, as Harry turned to take off the robe and hang it up, Parvati reached over to his
dress trousers and uttered another quiet charm. "I'll leave to preserve your modesty," she said lightly
and ducked laughing as Harry made a playful grab at her.
***
"Well, that problem's solved," Ron said with a grin.
Harry looked up curiously as his best friend entered the dorm. "What problem?"
Ron flopped down on Harry's bed. "I got Ginny a date. Dean asked her. Now Hermione agreed to
go to the Ball with me again." Ron reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a quill from Harry's
nightstand and began to twirl it casually in his hand.
Harry grinned. "There," he said with a smile. "That wasn't too difficult, was it?"
Ron frowned. He had never felt so humiliated in his life, apologizing to Velazquez. But the fourth
year had simply nodded and, with a small shuffle, changed the subject to some Quidditch plays he
had read about. Soon, the two were arguing and chuckling like two old mates. And when Regina
Bowen saw the two, she joined them, warily at first, but seeming to accept that a truce was in effect.
The thaw in relations had begun.
Ron frowned again, this time more thoughtfully. Not that everything was sweetness and light. But
at least he felt a reduction in tensions. Maybe Harry was right, Ron thought. Who would have
believed it?
***
Harry scowled at his reflection in the mirror of his dorm room. "Do I look all right?" he asked his
four roommates, making another face at his reflection. He had kept his promise to Parvati and not
touched the robe after she had styled and fitted it to her satisfaction. Unlike most of the other boys'
robes, his was more stylish, more like an overly long morning coat with a swallow-tail back rather
than the more traditional cassock-like look. And his had a somewhat higher collar, that opened to
show off the starched, white collar of the Muggle-style button-down dress shirt that he wore
underneath, along with a Galleon-sized red Gryffindor lion medallion on a solid background at his
throat, which he wore in lieu of the traditional formal flowing silk bow tie.
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"You look wonderful. Good enough to eat," the mirror answered. "Now fix your hair!"
Harry rolled his eyes and looked at the pandemonium around him as four 15-year-old boys tried to
get into their formal robes for the Yule Ball. Seamus and Neville were struggling with their formal
black robes, Seamus's with green and gold trim, and Neville's with silver trim. Dean was listlessly
pulling a plum-colored dress robe over his head. And Ron sat thoughtfully on Harry's bed in an
elegant deep green robe bought by his brothers with, unbeknownst to Ron, part of Harry's
TriWizard Cup winnings.
"Is this how it goes?" Neville said, walking over to Harry and the mirror.
"No, the collar goes down, like this," Harry said, fixing Neville's robe.
"Do you think Moira will like it?" Neville said nervously.
Harry smiled at Neville fondly. "Are you kidding. She'll be thrilled. You look great."
Neville smiled. "Thanks, Harry."
Harry turned to Ron, who was now pouting. "Awwww, what's wrong with the big red rascal?" he
teased. "Come on, Ron, you look great. Hermione will love it."
Ron made a face. "I wanted orange, but Fred and George made me get this."
At this, the rest of the boys in the room burst out laughing.
"Hey, come on, guys," Ron whined. "Orange is my favorite color. It makes a statement. This makes
me look like a Christmas tree," he said scowling.
Seamus was rolling on his bed, laughing. "Yea, but Hermione will make a hell of an ornament
hanging on your tree."
At that point, Harry and Ron threw pillows at Seamus while Neville just scowled.
Harry slipped on his shoes and stood again. He paused for a moment, noticing they felt a little
different. Not bad. As a matter of fact, they felt pretty good. He shrugged. Maybe this was a good
sign for the dance. He smiled to himself.
Then Ron turned to ask something of Harry and stopped, looking puzzled. "Did you grow or
something?"
Harry looked at his friend in confusion. "Uhhh, no?"
Ron looked down at Harry's shoes, then back up. "Well, you're almost as tall as me. That's a first,"
he muttered
Harry shrugged and turned to Dean. "What's taking you so long?"
Dean shrugged, too, as he straightened the robe and yanked on his collar.
Ron, Seamus and Neville filed out of the dorm, but Harry hung back with Dean.
"Dean, what's the matter? Ginny has turned into one of the prettiest girls in school. You should be
walking on air," Harry said.
Dean just shrugged again, then looked up. "Look, between you and me, this is going to be an ordeal
for both of us. I don't think Ginny wanted to go with me. But Ron scared off just about every boy
who wanted to ask her. He talked me into taking her only because he didn't want Ginny to kill him.
And I guess she agreed only because she didn't want to miss the dance," Dean said miserably.
"So, is that so bad, being forced to go on a date with a pretty girl?" Harry asked.
Dean made a face. "It shouldn't be. But Ron's been on my case all week. It's to the point where I'm
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afraid to even look at her or Ron'll beat the tar out of me."
Harry shook his head. "Look, I'll take care of Ron. Maybe give you two a chance to get to know
each other, to have some fun."
Dean shrugged again. "Thanks, Harry."
But as Dean started for the door, Harry stepped in front of him, with his arms crossed and a stern
expression on his face.
Dean stopped and stared wide-eyed at Harry.
"One thing, though, Mister Thomas," he said in a serious tone. "Miss Weasley happens to be a good
friend of mine, as well. So let me give you a word of warning: No shagging on the first date."
Dean stared at Harry, then burst out laughing. "Yes, dad," he said as the two boys exited the dorm
laughing with their arms around each other's shoulders. It barely registered on Harry that Dean
didn't seem as much taller than him as he had in the past.
***
As usual, the wait for the girls was interminable. The common room was a mass of impatient,
overdressed adolescent boys, fidgeting nervously. Even Fred and George, wearing chartreuse and
fuschia robes, respectively, were bantering nervously as they paced. They only stopped pacing to
smirk at Harry as he came down fom the dorm and cryptically remark that his dancing shoes made
him look ten feet tall.
Harry frowned, wondering what that comment was all about. "At least I'm not dressed in pink," he
said with a small smile.
"It's fuschia," George exclaimed. He then took out his wand and touched his chest. Suddenly,
circles of black on his gown began radiating out from the spot he touched as if they were ripples of
water, then fading slowly, drawing chuckles from several of the boys in the room.
Harry went back to waiting. He and Neville seemed the only calm ones in the room, although Harry
was quietly climbing the walls, waiting for Parvati to make her appearance. Neville, on the other
hand, just sat quietly and unobtrusively in the corner.
Moira was the first to appear, in a pretty cream-colored gown with baby pink roses dancing around
her high collar. As Neville stood up, she rushed over, blushing, and jumped into his arms in
excitement.
Neville flushed. "Wow!" was all he could muster at first. "Wow, you look...you look...beautiful!" he
gushed.
Harry smiled. Moira was a mousy looking girl with medium length ginger hair, but tonight she did
look wonderful, all dressed and made up. And now her normal devilish grin was replaced by a
positive radiance. She even got wolf whistles from Maura, her sister in first year, and Maura's pal,
Willie Peters.
Suddenly, the stairway to the girls' dorm exploded into a rainbow of colors as the girls all came out
to meet their dates. Angelina, who spent more time in her old dorm than she did in the Head Girl's
room on the first floor, was in a turquoise gown with royal blue accents, while Katie Bell was in
coral with red accents. They laughed and rolled their eyes at Fred and George's attire. Alicia
Spinnet was eye-catching in a hot pink satin number. Regina Bowen came down to greet a beaming
Severino Velazquez in a salmon silk gown.
Ginny and her best friend Rachel Weiss were down next. Rachel kissed Ginny on the cheek and
became a blue and white blur as she scurried off out the entryway on her way to meet Tony
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Goldstein of Ravenclaw. Then all eyes turned to Ginny. Dean gasped as he saw her. She was
wearing a pale green satin gown that hugged a budding young figure beautifully. And her hair was
up in an elegant twist, showing off her fair peaches-and-cream complexion. She no longer was the
gangly, coltish young girl of a year or so ago, Harry thought.
"I think Ron is going to kill me tonight, but I don't care. It'll be worth it," Dean muttered, still
staring.
Ron scowled but remained silent.
Ginny, who heard Dean's comment, gained a little confidence in her unfamiliar high heels and
strode over to Dean and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and led him out the portrait hole.
After a seemingly interminable wait for Seamus, Ron and Harry, there was the clicking of heels
coming down the stairs from the girls' dorms and the three boys rose to greet their dates.
Suddenly, Hermione appeared. Her face was a mask of anxiety. She had reluctantly allowed
Lavender and Parvati to help her prepare and make up her face. But she silently fretted that they
would do something that would make her look...un-Hermione.
She was right. They had made her look un-Hermione. As she descended the staircase in a silk gown
a little deeper blue than the one she had worn last year, Harry gasped and Seamus gave out a low
whistle. But Ron's silent reaction was perhaps even more telling. He simply and slowly sat down,
wide-eyed.
Harry shook his head. "Hermione, you look beautiful," he whispered.
And she did.
Her blue, empire-wasted gown showed off that she was, indeed, growing up to be a pretty young
woman. Her hair was pinned up to allow a cascade of curls to spill down her back while allowing a
few stray tendrils to frame her face. What makeup she wore gave her a positive glow without
apparent artifice.
On hearing Harry's quiet comment, she blushed deeply and smiled.
Then Harry grabbed Ron's arm and yanked him back to his feet. "Ron," he whispered. "Close your
mouth and say something."
Ron made a choking sound before regaining his composure. "Wow, Hermione. You look great."
Hermione slowly pulled her eyes from Harry to smile at Ron. "Thank you, Ron. You look nice,
too."
Harry felt wistful as he watched his two best friends together when a movement caught his eye.
Parvati and Lavender had finally made their appearance.
Lavender was wearing a simple but elegant pink satin gown, had her thick blonde hair up in a
simple French twist and wore a minimum of makeup, strategically applied. But the effect on the
standing Seamus was instantaneous, as he started to feel lightheaded that this vision of beauty was
his date. He, too, sank back down into his chair and stared.
Parvati, on the other hand, had gone all out for Harry. She was wearing a scarlet silk sheath gown
that clung to her with devastating effect. But what Harry noticed was her hair. She had cut her hair
so that, for the first time since he had known her, she had a loose fringe falling over her forehead.
But she had kept the rest of her hair long, and it was up in an elaborate coif held by gold and ruby
pins. And her artfully applied makeup emphasized her dark, exotic eyes and light olive complexion.
Harry just stood there and stared, open-mouthed in appreciation. Parvati, who looked at him with
some anxiety, saw his expression and smiled in relief. She simply walked up to him and let her
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hand trail across his jaw line. "Coming with me, big boy?" she said seductively, and Harry could
only nod an follow her out.
As the three couples began to exit through the portrait hole, they heard some giggling and sighing
and saw a group of first, second and third year girls standing and sitting around the first and second
years' areas near the portrait hole, enjoying the spectacle. Harry, the last one out, turned and made a
face at the girls and left, smiling, for the ball.
***
Entering the Great Hall was the usual organized chaos. There where nearly 80 couples in
unaccustomed finery in wildly varying colors and textures milling about, many of whom were
looking for their dates from other houses. Almost all the girls were eyeing one another, assessing
each others' gowns. On the other hand, many of the boys looked like they were heading for their
own over-dressed executions.
When the doors opened at 8:00, there was a collective gasp. The house tables had disappeared and
in their place were 24 round tables covered in white linen, with large floral centerpieces and elegant
place settings for four couples each. Over each table was a modest crystal chandelier hung from
impossibly long chains from the ceiling high above. Each had just enough candles to provide a
romantic setting. The ceiling itself was charmed to present a nearly cloudless, star-lit night sky with
a crescent moon hanging over the dais where the professors, in their finery, were sitting.
The tables surrounded a large circular raised dance floor. Unlike the tables, the circle was brighter,
with four large chandeliers providing more than adequate lighting for the dancers, and those
wishing just to enjoy the view.
Harry and Parvati took their places at a table to the left side of the hall, about where they would
normally sit during regular meals. Lavender took the seat beside Parvati and the two girls motioned
to Parvati's sister Padma to sit next to Harry. However, her date, the ever-unfocused Terry Boot,
was talking with someone at the Ravenclaw table on their left. So Hermione managed to slip into
the seat next to Harry, drawing a bit of a frown from Parvati. Padma sat down next to Ron and
Terry slipped into the final seat at the table.
"At least we're next to the rest of our year," Terry said with a smile.
Padma turned to look at Terry. "These people are our year, too," she said with a roll of her eyes.
Terry turned and blinked. "Oh. I meant from our house."
She turned to her left to say something to Ron, but he was just recovering from the fact that he was
with Hermione, a very lovely Hermione, and was not quite yet prepared for civilized conversation.
Padma glanced over to her twin sister. "I'll trade you," she said with a smirk.
Parvati chuckled, acknowledging that this might be a replay of last year's Yule Ball...at least for
Padma. "Not bloody likely. But if you're good, I'll let you have a dance with Harry," she said with a
laugh.
Harry chuckled, as well, knowing that he had better be on his best behavior with Parvati to make up
for last year.
"I don't know, Padma. Do you think Harry can dance in heels?" Seamus said out of the blue.
Harry turned and frowned. "What is going on? Will somebody please tell me?"
Hermione giggled. "Parvati charmed your shoes..."
Parvati gasped and shook her head vigorously, but it was too late.
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Harry turned to her with an annoyed expression. "What did you do to my shoes?"
Parvati blushed. "Well, I wanted to wear my dancing pumps...and..."
Harry frowned. "What?"
Parvati's shoulders slumped. "Well, in heels with my hair up...I didn't want to look taller than you."
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. "So you charmed my shoes to make me look taller."
Parvati gave him an anxious look. "I didn't think it was such a big deal."
Harry shook his head in exasperation. "No, except for all the abuse I've been getting from
everyone."
Parvati pouted. "I'm sorry. I guess..."
Seamus burst out laughing. "Should have saved that charm for Colin Creevey," he said, nodding
toward the back.
Colin was standing there, looking uncomfortable in an unadorned dress robe with a high collar. But
his date, Luna Lovegood, who was taller than he was anyway, was wearing what looked like a turn
of the century lady's riding habit, with a tight blazer over a long dress in blue and white, complete
with bustle. She was also wearing high-button shoes with heels. But to top it off--literally--she was
wearing a high top hat wrapped in a delicate silk sash. Colin might as well have been a lawn jockey
to her anachronistic lady sidesaddle rider.
Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he forgot his annoyance at Parvati and looked around the room.
He glanced over at the next table to see Dean and Ginny laughing. Angelina and Katie were
chatting amiably with the twins, as was Alicia Spinnet with her date, Edward Clendenon, the a
handsome chaser from the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
The group was enjoying taking in their surroundings when they heard a gasp coming from
numerous people, mostly girls, at the back of the hall. They turned as a group to see what the
trouble was. Draco Malfoy was standing in the entranceway, looking elegant if a bit stiff in a black
velvet robe with a high collar. Harry frowned, thinking this may be the same robe he wore last year.
However, Harry no longer thought of the outfit as making Malfoy look like a vicar. Malfoy was no
Strowbridge, he thought with a silent chuckle. But that wasn't what the commotion was about. It
was his date, Pansy Parkinson.
...or more accurately, it was Pansy's gown. Pansy was wearing the most spectacular gown anyone
there had ever seen. It was a multihued silk that was colored to look like the feathers of some exotic
bird. The feathering effect began with a subtle yellow at the neck, which rapidly turned to a red
orange over her chest. Just below the chest, the feathering turned a deep indigo, which blended to
become a bright aquamarine. The aquamarine gave way again to red and then faded to orange and
then yellow at the hem. The feathering and the color shifts were subtly achieved by small wisps of
black throughout the gown.
Hermione and Padma gazed in wonder at the gown, while Parvati and Lavender glared in pure
hatred. "That gown must have cost twice as much as all our gowns combined," Padma muttered.
Suddenly, Parvati's expression softened into a sly smile and she whispered something to Lavender.
Harry thought he heard Parvati say something like 'Where's Pansy?' but that didn't make any sense,
he thought. But Lavender and Parvati now were giggling quietly.
Harry turned to Hermione for an explanation. Hermione looked at him with a puzzled expression
and then looked back at the gown, and a smile formed. She said something to Padma, whose frown
turned quickly into a fit a giggles.
Harry, puzzled and impatient, turned to Parvati, but she had her head pressed up against Lavender's,
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giggling uncontrollably. So Harry squeezed Hermione's arm. Hermione turned to Parvati and
Lavender with a grin, and then turned to Harry. "Oh, Harry, it's a girl thing. You just wouldn't
understand."
"Try me," Harry said grumpily. "What did Parvati mean when she said 'Where's Pansy?' She's right
there. You're all staring at her. I think you're all jealous."
Parvati began laughing delightedly. "See, I knew you wouldn't understand."
"Try me," Harry repeated with a serious frown.
Parvati grabbed Harry's arm and giggled. "What's everybody staring at, Harry?" she said with a
devilish grin.
Harry shrugged, confused. "Pansy Parkinson."
"No, you ninny," Parvati said with an indulgent smile. "It's the gown they're staring at. Pansy's lost.
The gown absolutely overpowers her. You don't notice her, you notice the gown. She might as well
be a mannequin in Madame Malkin's robe shop." Parvati was now shaking her head in mock
despair. "Boys!" she said, shaking her head again. The girls at the table all chuckled.
Harry shook his head and shrugged again.
Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Harry, there's not a half dozen girls at this ball who could wear a
gown like that. Parvati and Padma could. Maybe Cho could."
Parvati gave Hermione a smile. "I don't know. Maybe we could. Cho's too small. But that would
look great on Angelina, with her tall, willowy frame and dark complexion. Maybe Amy Hattan, too.
She's tall enough to carry it off."
Harry looked at her. "Oh, come on. You'd look great in anything."
Parvati smiled and gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek. "You're sweet, Harry. The gown is
beautiful."
Harry shook his head. "I still don't get it. Why shouldn't any girl wear a dress like that. What about
Lavender...or Blaise Zabini?"
Parvati gave him an appraising glance. "Since when have you been watching Blaise Zabini?" she
said in an arch tone. "No, Lavender's got a great figure, but you need to be tall and willowy to wear
something like that. Like a fashion model. And with Blaise's light blond hair and very fair
complexion, that gown would totally wash out her features."
Harry looked over at the Slytherin fifth year table. Blaise looked very pretty, in a remote, regal way.
She was with a quiet, seemingly intimidated Aubrey Blythe.
"So what you think of Blaise's outfit?" he said. "Seems kind of plain.
Parvati looked at Harry and shook her head. "It's perfect for her." Blaise was wearing a plain loose
flowing black velvet robe with a modestly high collar, accented by a simple string of pearls, that
perfectly framed her face. And her hair tied back with a black velvet bow. "Harry, she's lovely, and
everything she's wearing frames her face without drawing your eye from her best features."
Harry turned, still confused and casually took a closer look at Pansy. She was all made up, too
much makeup for Harry's taste--more than even Lavender had used before she started dating
Seamus--but he didn't think he was any expert. But she had a sallow complexion and a pug nose
anyway, so he guessed that she needed more. And her dishwater blond hair was piled elaborately on
top of her head, and she had a multitude of silver combs in it to keep it in place.
Harry shrugged. He disliked the girl but figured Pansy was doing her best. But the effect was not to
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his taste. Then he turned to smile at Parvati, who looked absolutely smashing. But Parvati's eyes
were on Pansy. She had a devilish smile as Draco and Pansy made their way to one of the front
tables.
Then he heard Lavender whisper. "Hermione, Padma, watch. Here it comes." Harry got an uneasy
feeling. They weren't going to hex the poor girl, were they? he thought desperately. If they did, he
would walk out of the Ball and not return, he vowed.
Again Lavender whispered. "Here it comes...a little closer. There it is!" she whispered triumphantly.
"The 'S' in Pansy!"
He looked at Pansy, but he didn't see anything untoward. Pansy had just passed their table, looking
haughty on the arm of Draco, who was looking bilious.
Harry leaned across the table. Ron, Seamus and Terry were looking totally confused, as well. "What
are you girls talking about?" he said in an annoyed tone. The girls began laughing out loud.
Parvati leaned over to him. "Harry, take a look at Pansy."
He looked at Pansy, who was standing, chatting with Tracy Davis, another Slytherin fifth year, with
her right profile to Harry. He shrugged.
Parvati smiled. "She how the gown hugs her chest tightly? That's the top of the 'S.' And how it's
tight around the shoulders, emphasizing the arch of her back? That's the middle of the 'S.' And how
it hugs her bottom, showing the flare of her bum? That's the bottom of the 'S'."
Harry looked closely, trying not to look like he was ogling Pansy. Then he saw it. It did look like
'S.' He turned to Parvati and shrugged.
"Mmmm. Now I see it," Ron said.
"Me, too," said Terry with a puzzled look.
"Looks good to me," said Seamus, and Lavender elbowed him.
Parvati shook her head with a quiet chuckle. "You boys are such dogs. Tight is fine for jeans or a
dancing shirt. But never for a formal gown. It's one of the worst fashion mistakes a witch can make.
And it's especially bad for a gown like that. Any gown with a pattern like that is supposed to flow
loosely to preserve the illusion of feathers...or whatever the illusion is supposed to represent.
Instead, Pansy looks like a brightly colored, overstuffed sausage."
Harry frowned. He looked at the girls around the table. They were all grinning, although Hermione
seemed a little embarressed about it. Somehow, it didn't seem nice. Maybe Hermione was right. It
must be a 'girl thing.'
***
The once the feast had ended, everyone settled back in anticipation of who would provide the
entertainment.
Again, Harry glanced around the Great Hall to take in the scene. He was suddenly poked by Parvati,
who motioned toward one of the front tables.
It was Hannah Abbott, who nooded to them, looking lonely and forlorn in a lovely pink satin and
lace Cinderella-style gown, next to Roger Davies, who seemed to be holding court among his
seventh-year Ravenclaw friends and ignoring her completely.
"Poor Hannah," Parvati whispered. "She didn't realize what a stick Roger was when she agreed to
go with him."
In contrast, Luna Lovegood seemed to be having the time of her life, laughing loudly with a
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suddenly jovial Amy Hattan. Amy's date, a sixth-year Muggleborn Hufflepuff named Paul
Generoso, but who everyone seemed to call 'Spike,' seemed to be amused by the discussion. But
Colin Creevey seemed to be totally out of his depth, turning back and forth between the three
chattering students.
Suddenly the chandeliers dimmed. There was a suddenly flash of bluebell lights and a young man in
thick, shaggy brown hair wearing a robe but no shirt stepped forward.
"I was born in Knockturn Alley,
Been kicked 'round all my life.
With every gal I'd dally,
Fought Aurors and been through strife.
But then I met my Sally.
Yeah she turned around my life.
Then a fell in love with Sally.
Gonna make that witch my wife.
Oh, Yeah!
Gonna make that witch my wife."
The song was an all-time favorite: 'Knockturn Alley Sally.' The band was more than just a favorite.
It was Darren Dare and Dark Secrets.
There were cheers and screams, particularly from the girls in the audience as Dare continued with
the opening number.
Harry squirmed. Darren Dare was the wizard he had beat out to be named the 'Sexiest Wizard
Under 25' by Teen Witch Weekly. He rolled his eyes as he saw his schoolmates, particularly the
girls, glance back and forth between him and Dare and chuckle. As he glanced around the room, he
saw Janet McDonald, his seventh-year Hufflepuff prefect patrol partner who, with Nymphadora
Tonks, had teased him mercilessly about the article, nod knowingly and give him a smirking wave.
He was rescued from his thoughts by Parvati, who grabbed him and hauled him onto the dance
floor. Thanks to their hours of practicing, Harry felt less foolish dancing than he had in the past.
Dark Secrets went through a broad variety of numbers and tempos, mostly adaptations of Muggle
rock and rhythm and blues tunes such as 'Seekers on the Storm,' 'Funky Merlin Street,' and 'P-Town
Woman,' which got Parvati and Padma, Portsmouth natives, standing on their chairs. The girls
eventually had gotten the boys out on the dance floor a few times, particularly for the slow
numbers. And they all seemed to be having good time. Even Ron, who groused about not knowing
how to dance, allowed Hermione to drag him out on the floor and acquitted himself adequately, if
not always admirably.
"Why isn't there a spell to teach these louts how to dance," Padma complained to Lavender.
Lavender didn't respond, discovering that Seamus was a very good dancer, better even than she
was.
Harry laughed. "That's not fair, Padma. There's no steps for these dances. It's mostly just jumping
around on the fast dances and hugging on the slow ones," he said with a smile. "If I hadn't been
dragged off to charm school by your sister, I probably would have been flat on my bum on the
dance floor or hiding under the table myself."
"Ron, we'll have to get Hermione teach you how to jitterbug or something like that," Parvati said
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with a laugh as the redhead frowned and blushed. "You can dance, can't you," she said, turning to
Hermione.
Hermione shrugged. "Three years of ballroom dancing lessons when I was a child," she replied.
"Come on, Ron," she said, rolling her eyes as she dragged her protesting date back onto the dance
floor.
The group sat out the last dance of the set, sipping punch or cider or pumpkin juice. Darren Dare
thanked everyone and promised to be back with the band in 20 minutes. Everyone sat back in their
chairs, relaxing and chatting, when Professor Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat.
"Excuse me, all you lovely witches and handsome young wizards," he said with twinkle in his eye.
"While you youngsters are taking a break from your exertions, some of us old timers thought we
might like to try our hands at some music that was all the rage back when we were your age."
Professors McGonagall and Sprout and Madame Pomfrey made faces at him and Dumbledore
laughed. "Oh, all right, when I was your age."
Dumbledore waved his wand and an ancient gramophone, complete with a morning glory horn,
appeared. "Poppy, you're more familiar with this than I am. If you would?"
Madame Pomfrey got up and took a quick look through a stack of old platters and selected one.
Dumbledore nodded, and turned to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, would you do me the
honor...?"
McGonagall, in dark blue velvet and brocade dress robes with a red and gold Gryffindor pin similar
to what Harry was wearing, smiled and nodded, and Dumbledore escorted her out on to the deserted
dance floor. Dumbledore turned to the students, most of whom weren't paying much attention.
"This is by Emil Waldteufel. Not quite Dark Secrets, but he was quite the rage in my time. It's a
rather old recording by the Weiner Statsoper Orchestra conducted by Fritz Reingold, but still quiet a
danceable tune." Dumbledore turned to Pomfrey. "Poppy, if you will?"
Madame Pomfrey waved her wand and the crank on the side of the Gramophone spun. A series of
snaps and pops were heard, but Pomfrey waved her wand again and they disappeared and the music
began, clear and loud.
Suddenly, Harry's head jerked around, his eyes lighting up. "That's a waltz! I know how to waltz!
Come on, Parvati!" he said, grabbing his date by the arm and dragging her on to the dance floor.
"Harry, what's going on?" she asked.
"Come on, Parvati! I practiced all summer for this," he said, his eyes glowing merrily. "You know
how to waltz, don't you?" he said with a smirk.
She returned his smirk. "Okay, Potter! I'll show you how ..."
Parvati didn't get to finish as Harry had already grabbed one of her hands and put his other hand
around her waist. He caught the beat and he was off.
Parvati, surprised, struggled for a second and then picked up the rhythm and started to follow his
lead. But this was no stately waltz. It was lively as well as elegant, and Harry began to picture
himself during the past summer practicing the steps in his bedroom that Mae Strowbridge had
taught him. His steps and movements began to get bolder, as he started to swing Parvati in graceful
loops to the strains of the L'Estudiantina Waltz.
Parvati was startled and tried to keep pace. Then she looked up at Harry. It was a Harry she'd never
seen, full of joy and enthusiasm...and love for dancing and for her, and her heart melted. Suddenly,
the effort to keep up with him evaporated. She was dancing on air.
And Harry looked down at Parvati and saw this lovely vision of a young woman looking at him, her
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eyes sparkling and her face aglow, and he caught his breath.
Parvati had fancied she was in love with Harry. She had stood by his side during times of terror, and
had held him through his tears and hers, his triumphs and hers. But this was something new and
overwhelming to her. She simply threw back her head and laughed for the pure joy of it all.
And Harry had never known love before meeting Parvati. She was by turns annoying and exciting
and frustrating and comforting. He knew he cared for her deeply, and loved having her in his arms.
The more he seemed to be with her, the more he cared about her.
But in those few minutes, all those feelings shrank to a mere afterthought. For in those few minutes
on the dance floor Harry and Parvati understood.
This was their perfect moment.
Harry and Parvati's dancing had no less a devastating effect on the other students. Slowly, in ones or
twos or small groups, students, mostly the girls, started rising, drawn to the dance floor to watch the
couple. Many of the girls sighed and leaned back on their dates, or put their arms around waists,
actions too forward for many of them to take under any other circumstances. Many of the boys,
puzzled, shrugged and enjoyed the contact. Others looked down a their dates, seeing them as if for
the first time, and put their arms around them with smiles. Even some of the professors seemed
mesmerized, including Dumbledore and McGonagall, who smiled fondly at the couple who were
swirling around them on the dance floor.
By the time the waltz ended, Harry and Parvati were in their own world. As the last strains faded,
Harry ended the step and gave Parvati a quick twirl before pulling her back into an embrace. Parvati
looked up at him, starry eyed. Harry leaned a little forward and kissed her gently, for that's all they
needed.
Harry and Parvati looked up to find the entire ballroom hooting, applauding or sighing. Their
confusion was compounded when a nearby Hufflepuff fifth-year girl, the romantic dreamer Karen
Holmes, collapsed, smiling, into the arms of her date.
Harry turned beet red, and Parvati looked flushed, and hand-in-hand, they scurried over to their
table. Lavender was jumping up and down excitedly and Seamus was wearing a lopsided grin.
Padma was simply smiling and leaning against Terry, who had a bemused expression on his face.
Ron was laughing and shaking his head. And Hermione had a wistful look.
"Oh, you've done us all a bad turn, Potter," Ron exclaimed. "It'll been dancing lessons and charm
school for the rest of our lives now," he said, slapping Harry on the back.
As Pomfrey put the next record on the gramophone, Padma grabbed Terry by the ear and dragged
him on to the dance floor. "If Harry can dance like that, the least you can do is learn a simple box
step," she said.
Harry had regained some of his composure and sat down laughing. He pulled Parvati down to sit
next to him. She angled her chair so she could lean back against him, and Harry put his arms around
her middle and kissed the side of her neck, eliciting a giggle.
He looked up to see Neville sit down next to him, with Moira holding his hand shyly. "Uh...Harry?"
Neville started tentatively. "Uh...can you teach us to do that."
Harry looked over to see Moira practically bouncing with eagerness.
"Not right now, of course," Neville quickly added. "But we'd like to be able to dance together,
Moira and I...uh, you know," Neville stammered.
"Sure Neville," Harry said, smiling at the couple.
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He turned back to Parvati, nuzzling her again. "What have we started?" He asked her. She simply
giggled again.
Suddenly, Lavender leaned over and whispered. "Watch out, you two. Your fan club is on the way."
Harry looked up to see several girls glancing in his direction and a couple, most prominently Blaise
Zabini's little sister, Gina, making their way in his direction.
Harry leaned forward and nuzzled Parvati's hair. "What do you say we take a walk?" he asked.
"Okay," she said dreamily.
Harry got up and grabbed Lavender's arm. "If any of my 'fans' coming looking for a dance, tell them
my dance card is filled," he whispered to her.
Lavender laughed and hugged him, then did the same to Parvati.
Harry and Parvati walked hand-in-hand out of the Great Hall. The great entrance doors were open,
but the breeze coming in was warm, so the couple went outside to the dimly lit courtyard.
Somebody had apparently used a warming charm on the courtyard, so Harry and Parvati walked to
a nearby bench.
They had just sat down and began to embrace when a figure appeared out of the shadows. It was
Darren Dare, smoking a cigarette.
"Potter?" The rocker asked, his head anged to the side.
Harry nodded uncertainly.
"I was a bit wound up about that whole TWW thing, you know," Dare said quietly.
Harry shrugged. "I didn't have anything to do with it."
Dare nodded with an absent look on his face, looking off into the dark. "Saw you dance there. I can
see how they might choose you after all."
Harry snorted. "You can have it."
Dare smiled vaguely. "Go on, Potter. Enjoy it while you got it, 'cause you never know when it's
gonna be gone," he said with a dreamy smile. "Miss...Patil? A pleasure to meet you both," he said
and wandered back in to resume the performance.
Grinning, Harry turned to Parvati. "What was he smoking?"
"Now there's a match for Luna Lovegood," Parvati said with a smirk. Harry and Parvati looked at
each other and laughed. Then they simply leaned into each others' arms, content. Neither gave the
future a thought. There was no Voldemort. There was no Death Eaters. There was no danger. There
was simply now.
***
Schmoo Baker scurried into the Tabula Rasa and took a quick look around, spotting Sirius almost
immediately. "Black," he hissed. "He's here. He's outside. The guy."
Sirius nodded. He turned to his companion, Christy. Not that she was his companion when he
walked into the bar. She was just another hanger-on, another barfly. A new one he hadn't noticed
before. She was okay looking, he supposed. She was about average height, with dirty blond hair and
gray eyes that sparkled when she talked. But she had a prominent hex scar on her left jaw line that
had obviously been poorly healed by some quack wizard. That's probably why she tried to keep to
his left at the bar, to keep her good side toward him. He didn't like that because he wanted to keep
her between him and the front of the tavern so he could watch the door in case of trouble.
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He wouldn't have given this one a second thought, but she seemed livelier than the others, who
usually seemed to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders as they went through the motions
of flirting. Christy, on the other hand, seemed to have unflagging energy and a sense of humor that
was a welcome distraction as he waited to meet Schmoo's Death Eater recruiter.
Sirius turned to Christy and shrugged. "Gotta go," he said sorrowfully.
Then he blinked. Remus, once again dressed at his seediest, slid down the bar and whispered into
Christy's ear. Sirius frowned as Christy turned to Remus and gave him a noncommittal nod. The
werewolf wasn't supposed to be trolling for tarts, Sirius thought. Remus was supposed to be
watching his back.
Sirius got up and began moving toward the door with Schmoo. He glanced back once to see Remus,
in his Knockturn Alley disguise, suddenly grab Christy by the arm and begin unsteadily to make his
way out behind him. Sirius shrugged. Maybe Remus's acting drunk and picking up the tart was a
good smokescreen to get out of the bar after all.
Suddenly, Schmoo grabbed Sirius' robe. "Remember to remind him I was the one who got you," he
whispered in his louder-than-necessary manner.
Sirius nodded as the passed through the entrance.
"This way," Schmoo hissed, and led Sirius off to the left toward an alleyway.
Sirius looked around and didn't see anyone at first. 'Where was Shane?' he thought. He fingered his
wand and frowned. Then he noticed an old drunk with his hood up, sitting atop an old empty
packing crate, rocking back and forth and humming an old Scottish ballad. 'Not Shane,' he thought.
He looked further down the narrow street and saw another hooded wizard accost a passerby.
Another 'frog' merchant, selling drugs to the desperate on this cold December night. That had to be
Shane. He just hoped that Remus had set aside the tart and was following him. Sirius was beginning
to get a bad feeling about this. He gripped his wand tighter as Schmoo turned him into the alleyway.
Then it all happened at once. Seven Death Eaters apparated around him.
"Got you, Black," the closest Death Eater growled as he grabbed and twisted Sirius' wand hand,
preventing him from defending himself. "My master will enjoy killing you."
Suddenly, streams of light flashed around the alley as curses and hexes were shot at the Death
Eaters who, in turn, responded with their own curses. Sirius was hit in the arm with a stray slicing
curse. Grimacing, he suddenly grabbed the Death Eater who had taken a hold of him and yanked
him to the ground, just in time to see a green flash pass over his head. Schmoo, who was squawking
in surprise about what was going on and about his money was hit directly in the chest. Sirius
managed to look up and see a second, angry Death Eater glance down at him and point his wand
directly at him.
"Avada ..." the Death Eater started, when suddenly he was blown off his feet by a powerful stunning
spell.
Sirius looked up, in wide-eyed terror as the Death Eater collapsed, only to see his savior -- Christy.
Christy suddenly turned and aimed another stunning spell at a masked Death Eater, but the old
drunk suddenly appeared to take care of him.
In the mean time, the Death Eater who had had a hold on him grabbed Sirius around the neck. Sirius
could see he had the Death Eater's wand arm pinned under him. Despite the pain from the gash in
his arm, he pulled that arm up and slammed his elbow into his opponent's face once, twice, then a
third time. He reached down and managed to wrestle the wand out of the wounded Death Eater's
grip and uttered a stunning spell with the Death Eater's own wand. The spell had enough force, and
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was at close enough range, to knock his opponent out.
While this was going on, several more curses were traded as a couple Death Eaters were knocked
out before the last two managed to apparate away. Sirius managed to wrestle his wand back, but not
before one last Death Eater was bludgeoned by the frog pusher Sirius had seen in the lane--Shane
Patil.
Sirius was grabbed by the old drunk. "Bind them up. We're taking 'em with us," Alastor Moody
growled through his disguise. Suddenly, Moody was cursing under his breath and rubbing his arm.
"Where the hell are Jordan and Shack?" he muttered.
Sirius blinked in surprise that Moody was there, then gave a quick nod. "What about Schmoo?"
Shane, breathing heavily, shook his head. "Nothing to be done for him. They'll find his body in the
morning. Another victim of Knockturn Alley."
Moody grabbed Shane. "He comes too, you fool. He was seen leaving with Black. They'll wonder
what happened and Sirius will be the prime suspect."
Moody grabbed a rope and tied it to the hands of the five unconscious Death Eaters and to
Schmoo's body, then held it out to Sirius and the other three rescuers. "Portkey," he muttered.
Sirius then turned to Remus, who was leaning wide eyed against one wall of the alley. "Smart move
bringing the girl," he said to the werewolf.
Remus didn't react. He simply looked at his friend. "Sirius?" he muttered in a strained voice, then
slowly slid down the wall, leaving a blood trail behind.
"Remus!" Sirius yelled.
Moody turned, startled. He quickly stuck his hand into his ragged cloak and yanked out a handful of
Muggle bottle caps. When he found the right one, he handed it to Christy. "You, gel! Portkey to St.
Mungo's!"
Christy grabbed the bottle cap and clasped it against Remus' hand. She rapped her wand against
their clasped hands. Suddenly, the two were gone.
"I've got to go with them!" Sirius yelled in a panic, but Moody grabbed him.
"Nothing you can do for him at the moment," he growled. "Come on, now. Grab the rope."
Shane grabbed Sirius's shoulder. "Let's go, my friend," he said in a low, ragged voice.
"He's my best friend..." Sirius said in a choking voice as he sunk to his knees. "It's my fault."
But Shane gently grabbed Sirius' right hand and guided it to the rope.
When everyone had a hold of the rope, Moody grabbed the end and tapped it with his wand. And
they all disappeared.
***
Sirius sat in an overstuffed chair, his cut left arm heavily coated with a healing potion and bound
with what seemed like yards of bandages. He simply sat there, as he had for over two hours,
ignoring the pain of the curse and the sting of the potion, his head in his hands. He glanced up and
looked around the room. It was a large holding area in an Auror substation, but he didn't know
where.
All he could think about was Remus. How could he have been so foolish. Since leaving Hogwarts,
his entire life had been a series of foolish moves. He had never been serious after graduating, letting
any number of wonderful women pass out of his life. He had turned the Potters' secret keeper duties
over to the traitor, Peter Pettigrew, getting James and Lily killed. He had allowed his grief and
266
anger to overcome him, allowing Pettigrew to get away and get himself convicted in his place,
allowing Harry to be cast into a horrible life with the Dursleys. And now, he had lured his best
friend into something he thought of as an adventure, with potentially deadly results.
He was crying silently into his hands when he heard the door open.
He looked up to see the young tart, Christy, or whoever she might be, enter. She looked drawn and
haggard, but she had a small smile on her face.
"He's going to be all right," she said quietly. "A few days at St. Mungo's, then a couple weeks to
recover, and he'll be back on his feet."
Sirius leaned back in the chair and let out a ragged breath. "Thank you, God. Thank you," he said
quietly.
When Sirius opened his eyes after a few moments, he looked absently at Christy. "Thanks for your
help," he said softly. "You probably saved my life." He looked down and blinked, then looked up
again at the tart. "And I don't even know who you are."
Christy blinked and looked down at her hands and felt her chest, then her face. Suddenly, there was
a spark of a smile on her tired face. "Oi, dearie. Got time to give it a go now that yer doings is
done?" she said in a thick cockney accent. Suddenly, she transformed.
"Tonks?"
Tonks let out a laugh that was a little louder than fit the circumstances, probably from the pent up
tension of the confrontation. She was breathing heavily, but managed a broad smile. "Forgot I was
still in disguise. Good thing you didn't take me up on my propositions. Not that you aren't a
handsome specimen, but being cousins and all..." she said with a gradually more relaxed grin.
Sirius shook his head in amazement. "I had no idea..."
"You're damned right you had no idea," Moody growled as he entered the room, rubbing his own
injured and heavily bandaged arm. "What the hell were you thinking, arranging a meet like that
with just a couple of people to back you up? And going into a confined space like that?"
Sirius lowered his head. "I figured Shane and ... Remus could handle anything," he muttered.
"The boy can play dress-up well enough, but he ain't seasoned in combat. At least Lupin had the
sense to let us know what you were up to so we could prepare as best as we could."
Sirius gave a vague nod. "So you two..."
"We had Shacklebolt and Jordan at the other end of the lane for additional backup, looking as
menacing as possible. Figured Death Eater scouts would see them and steer the action away from
them toward us. Kingsley and Cyrus are policing the scene and covering any magical signatures.
They'll be along."
Sirius leaned back, sinking into the chair. He looked up at Moody and was about to say something,
when Moody shook his head.
"It was an strictly an MLE operation. You weren't there. Nor was Remus. Got that?"
Sirius lowered his head. "Remus is going to be all right?"
Moody scowled, then let his expression become mildly less fearsome. "Aye. Took a slicing curse to
the gut, he did. Got him to St. Mungo's in plenty of time. But nasty business, that was."
Sirius nodded weakly. "Who were they?"
Moody squinted his normal eye. "Evan Rosier Jr. was the killer. The one you got was someone
named Mercer, a local thug. The other three were no-names, recent recruits. Knockturn Alley scum
267
who recently got the mark, no doubt."
Then Sirius noticed a new figure enter the room. He saw the burly man with the brush-cut
mustache. He recognized him immediately. William Masterson, the Chief Auror.
"Alastor."
Moody nodded. "Bill."
Masterson sighed. "Rosier's the killer. Checked the wand. He won't talk. Neither will Mercer. We've
been looking for him. Couple of robberies and a possible killing. The other three are small time
hoods. They don't know much."
Moody nodded.
Masterson turned to Sirius. "Moody explained things to you?"
Moody grumbled.
Masterson scowled. "You were not involved in the doings tonight. Do you understand?"
Sirius nodded.
"You will not speak of this to anyone. You will not speculate on it when nothing shows up in the
press about it. And you will stay away from Knockturn Alley until I say you can return. Do you
understand?"
Again, Sirius nodded.
Masterson turned and opened the door and motioned with his head. Shane Patil walked in with wide
eyes. Masterson indicated for him to sit in the chair next to Sirius. He gave the two an annoyed
look. Then he sighed.
"Mr. Patil. We have allowed you to go undercover on Auror business. You have been very valuable
as a resource on criminal gangs and drug trafficking. More so than I would have thought possible.
However, your charge as an operative did not, and does not extend to infiltrating or battling
Voldemort's forces."
Shane was about to say something, but Masterson cut him off. "I am not revoking your charter.
However, I am ordering you to steer clear of Knockturn Alley until we determine when it will be
safe for you to return. In the meantime, you will confine your activities to your home base around
Portsmouth. In the future, when you learn something concerning Voldemort or his minions, you
shall report them to Kingsley Shacklebolt or Cyrus Jordan. You will take no action on your own
initiative."
Again, Shane seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but again, Masterson cut him off
again.
"Let me assure you, those two can be trusted. As for anyone else in the Auror service interested in
what you are doing, you can refer them to Shacklebolt and Jordan."
Masterson turned to Moody. "Alastor, I appreciate the help your organization has provided us. In
the future, I hope your members will exercise a little more judgment. In the meantime, I would
suggest that the activities of the 'Notorious Black Brothers' be curtailed, at least for the time being."
With that, Masterson turned and left.
Sirius looked up at Moody. "What about the Ministry? Fudge?"
Moody, his magic eye darting from Tonks, to Shane, to Sirius, frowned. "Like the man said. This
incident never happened."
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***
It was late. The Ball was finally over.
Ron was nervous. Being with Hermione, this very pretty version of his best friend, made him light
headed.
She had been a lot of fun, even if she had nagged and teased him about dancing with her, and
lectured the table about which of Dark Secrets' songs were covers of Muggle rock tunes.
But now, he wasn't sure what to do. As they walked back to Gryffindor House, he had hoped to
steer her up to the Astronomy Tower, but she had declined. He had reached around her to hold her
but she artfully avoided that, as well. Then, she grabbed his hand.
He blinked in surprise, feeling her warm, soft grip as they walked hand-in-hand back to the Tower.
He sighed in contentment. Then he shivered to himself. Should he kiss her? What would she do?
What if she got mad?
When they got to the portrait hole, she quickly gave the password and stepped through.
Ron frowned. If they were going to do any real kissing, it would have been out here, not inside in
front of everyone. He sighed again, this time in disappointment.
There were about a half dozen couples on sofas and loveseats around the common room. Ron
noticed Harry and Parvati with their arms around each other in the far corner in the first years' 'quiet
chair.' Neville and Moira Duffy were sitting next to the fire, holding hands. For once, he didn't even
think to look for Ginny.
Hermione made her way to the base of the stairs to the girls' dorms, with Ron following behind,
then she stopped.
Ron grimaced anxiously. "Uhhh, you looked really nice tonight," he said uncertainly. "Really."
Hermione turned around and gave him a quick look, then stepped up to him and grabbed him in a
tight hug, leaning her head on his shoulder.
Ron, startled, cautiously and gently put his arms around as he felt her against him, her head just
barely coming up to his chin.
Slowly, he closed his eyes and reveled in her warmth, her presence.
Finally, he heard her sigh and looked down.
She looked up at him and smiled. "I had a really nice time, Ron," she said.
Suddenly, she let him go, stood on her toes and gave give a quick kiss on the lips. "Thank you,
Ron," she said quietly, and suddenly she was gone up the stairs.
Ron sat down and leaned back, his eyes closed. He could still feel her lips, smell her perfume, feel
her warmth. He smiled. It was a nice night after all.
***
Draco Malfoy was tired. The Yule Ball wasn't exactly a rousing success as far as he was concerned.
Pansy had made a splash with her gown, but he had also heard the whispering. And the whispering
had pretty much confirmed his own opinion of The Gown.
But he had spent a good portion of the night reassuring Pansy about how everyone was jealous of
her. And she had been reassured and almost regal in her insistence that they had shown they were
the class of Slytherin, which meant they were the class of Hogwarts. They were above such vulgar
displays as put on by Potter and Patil and their ilk, she announced.
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So now, as he lay in her arms in a bed in a room he had discovered in his wanderings around
Hogwarts, he sighed. If nothing else, he had Pansy. She wasn't perfect. Far from it.
But she was there for him. He nuzzled her neck and slowly let his eyes droop. As long as there was
someone like Pansy there for him, he could get by. As long as someone who believed in him, who
stood by him no matter what, he could get through anything. He was a Malfoy. He would survive.
He would succeed. He would triumph.
***
Pansy sighed in contentment. She had Draco. And he seemed so attentive and caring. And he was
nice looking. Maybe not as handsome as many of the boys in his year, but he was striking and cut a
dashing figure.
If only he could reconcile with his father. Or find some way to reclaim the Malfoy estates and
fortune.
If it took going into service with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, well so be it.
Her father refused to join the Death Eaters, preferring to keep his options open. It was the smart
course for him. But Draco had more to gain. Maybe she would talk to him about it again.
Draco had foresworn his father and his family. But if it meant losing his fortune...well, she would
have to see.
In the meantime, he was here. But if worse came to worse ...
Macmillan was really good looking and, as recent events showed, easy to manipulate, she thought.
But he wasn't rich enough. Too bad, she thought.
Potter would have been good. But he was arrogant and had been bewitched by that wog princess.
And if the vague rumors her dad had been hearing about the Ministry and the Potter estate were
true...well.
But there were always other options. She had heard that Finch-Fletchley was some sort of Muggle
royalty. She wasn't sure how that all worked. But she knew that there had been successful Finches
and Fletchleys in the Wizarding world for generations, so he really wasn't a Mudblood, was he?
And Finch-Fletchley's family was supposed to be immensely wealthy. Something about Muggle
transportation. Automobiles and engines for their flying machines. And Justin was so much more
handsome than Draco. And she had heard that he was much less demanding and headstrong, as
well. Well, if it came down to it, she could make a few sacrifices to be...what was the wife of a
Muggle Earl called, anyway...?
***
Harry awoke with a throbbing in his scar. He was there with Him again. He was in Voldemort's
mind.
And the Dark Lord was furious.
"You mean to tell me that they captured young Rosier?" he screamed. "And four others?"
Lucius Malfoy cringed. "Yes, my Lord."
Voldemort glared at his chief of staff. "How?" he demanded.
"Black had a dozen Aurors to protect him, according to the two who came back. They said they
may have killed two or three of the Aurors."
Voldemort had left his heavily decorated throne, pacing painfully back and forth. "And all they
were trained in was slicing curses?"
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Lucius Malfoy lowered his head. "That was the most deadly, but simple, curse that our people could
come up with to teach these ... individuals."
Voldemort ceased his pacing and returned to the elaborately carved chair that he called his throne.
"Then we shall have to spend the time to teach them the true meaning of the practice of the Dark
Arts," he growled.
Lucius lowered his head. "It will take time, My Lord," he said meekly.
Voldemort nodded. "I am patient...for now. But this fiasco with Black has tried my patience. You
shall ensure that the scum we recruit understand what needs to be done, and know enough to ensure
our success."
Harry shivered.
He could sense Voldemort shift in his thinking. "Well, Lucius. Perhaps it is time we considered
other alternatives, as well," he said in a silky voice.
He watched Lucius intently. "What is that, My Lord?" the elder Malfoy asked.
"Azkaban."
271
CHAPTER 16 THE CHRISTMAS EXPRESS
***
Sirius was awakened from an uneasy sleep by someone prodding his shoulder.
"Mr. Black? The patient is awake and can see you, if you'd like," the young nurse said quietly. "You
said for me to tell you as soon as we allowed visitors.
Sirius blinked several times as he surveyed his surroundings. He had slept for the better part of the
morning in a lumpy chair in a waiting room on the emergency floor of St. Mungo's. He was stiff
and still tired, but that didn't matter. Moony was awake!
He ran down the corridor and burst into the ward, looking back and forth among the curtained-off
beds until he saw the one with a small symbol of a crescent moon, the little-known medical symbol
indicating the patient was a werewolf. He strode over and, after taking a deep breath, parted the
curtain.
He was struck by the form in front of him. He had always chuckled over the irony of the physical
contrasts between himself and his best friend. He was the dog animagus, while Remus was the
werewolf.
Yet, as he looked at his friend, he saw a head that, if anything, was leonine, with a shaggy mane of
brown hair showing hints of red, now beginning to gray, swept back from a broad, regal forehead,
and warm brown, somewhat skeptical eyes which, at the moment, were closed. The werewolf as
lion.
Sirius knew that he, not Remus, had often been described as 'wolfish,' with a narrow, angular face, a
broad, almost predatory smile, and sly, but still wary, dark blue eyes, with a shock of dark brown
hair falling insolently over his forehead. The dog as wolf.
Remus was looking older than his 36 years as he nestled back in his pile of pillows on the hospital
bed, his eyes closed in weary rest.
"Remus?" Sirius said quietly.
Remus opened his eyes and gave his friend a tired smile. "Padfoot? Still in one piece, I see."
Sirius sat down beside the bed and grabbed Lupin's arm. "I'm...I'm sorry," he said, hanging his head.
Remus looked over at his friend with a groggy, puzzled expression. "What? Sorry for what?"
Sirius raised red-rimmed eyes to his best friend. "I'm sorry for getting you involved in it. For almost
getting you killed." Sirius lowered his head. "I don't know what I would have done if I lost you..."
Lupin's eyes were now gaining more focus, and he began to frown. "I still don't know what you're
talking about."
Sirius took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for getting you involved in all that Knockturn Alley crap. For
being so stupid..."
Sirius suddenly felt Remus grab his arm. "Why should you be sorry? We're at war. People get hurt
in war. People get killed. You know that as well as I do. And there's nothing we can do about it
except continue fighting," he said in a hoarse voice.
Sirius looked into his friend's eyes. "But...it was all a big adventure to me. Just a big game. Playing
the spy..."
Remus sunk his head back into his pillows and gave a shallow but audible sigh. "You know that's
272
not true, you dumb mutt," he said with a croaking chuckle.
Sirius shook his head sadly. "No, it is," he said in a mournful voice. "I thought we could grab off a
Death Eater like we were intercepting a quaffle in Quidditch."
Remus sighed. "Padfoot, I told you. We're fighting a war. But does that mean we should all just
wander around with long faces, awaiting our fates like pawns in one big, solemn wizarding chess
match? We need to be bold and daring. And that's what you were." The werewolf paused to take a
couple deep breaths, causing him to wince.
Sirius shook his head. "A big game," he said with a scowl. "What was it that Prongs' mum used to
tell us. 'It's always a game until somebody gets hurt.' She was right."
Remus closed his eyes. "Oh, please. Don't tell me Padfoot has grown up into a Ravenclaw. Some
stuffy grownup. I finally get the chance after all these years to hang out you again, with someone
who knows how to have some fun, and you turn middle-aged on me. Sirius Black has turned into
my Aunt Matilda."
Sirius frowned. "No, listen, Remus. I'm serious..." Then he stopped, realizing what he had just said.
Lupin suddenly started chuckling. "Damn you, Padfoot. I'm not supposed to laugh," he said with a
grimace, then a smile, holding his injured left side.
Sirius fought a grin. "I'm...I'm sorry..."
Remus, still chuckling softly, made a face at his friend. "Listen, enough of this morose blather. I'm
the patient here. You're the one supposed to be providing me with entertainment to cheer me up. So
let's get on with the show," he said with a grin.
"Oh, shut up, Moony," he said with a small smile.
A sparkle was now evident in Lupin's eyes. "That's more like it."
Sirius shook his head with a smile. "Well, I'm sorry I didn't bring a bag of tricks. It's going to be
tough keeping a sour old fart like you happy twenty-four hours a day."
Remus paused, his smile softening. "Twenty-four hours a day of you is more entertainment than I
can take. And anyway, don't you have a Godson to instruct in the fine art of seduction and a few
hearts to break down in Portsmouth?"
Sirius frowned. "No. I'm staying here with you until you get out. Then I'll have to go down to adjust
the whips and chains for the next full moon," he said with a half smile.
Remus returned his friend's frown. "The hell you will. You're going to the Patils as scheduled. I'm
sure they let you out for a visit or two, but you're going. They'll probably be relieved to be rid of
you for a couple hours a day," he said with a quiet chuckle.
Sirius lowered his head. "I can't leave my best friend's side," he said quietly.
Remus looked at his friend carefully. "You are going to Portsmouth to have some fun and to flirt
with that woman you've been complaining about endlessly for the past month."
Sirius continued to frown. "I can't run out on you."
Remus grabbed his friend's arm. "Sirius, I'm relying on you to have some more adventures so you
can have something interesting to talk about when you visit me."
Sirius sighed. "I don't think I'm up for any more adventures."
"No," Remus said firmly.
Sirius looked up with tilted head. "'No,' what?"
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"No, you are not giving up."
Sirius shrugged. "I'm not giving up. I just thought...well, it's time to rethink...to grow up a little."
Remus leaned back on his pillows, shaking his head sadly. "Don't do that to me," he said in a barely
audible voice.
Sirius gave Lupin a puzzled look. "Do what?"
Remus sighed. "Remember when we met? Remember how I was?"
Sirius shrugged.
Remus closed his eyes. "I was bitter. Alone. Isolated. It was James who taught me that there were
people out there who made life worth living."
Sirius chuckled. "You were a broody little git."
Remus gave Sirius a sidelong glance. "Yeah, Prongs taught me that life was worth living. But you
taught me that life was an adventure. You showed me how to have fun. And you showed me that
rules were merely advisory in nature and only important if you got caught."
Sirius chuckled.
"Now, you're the one suddenly turning into an old fart. I've just got you back into the world, and
you're telling me that the adventure is over already? I'm not going to let that happen. You are going
to Portsmouth and have some fun. Then you are going to come back and tell me about it. And
maybe, while you're away, I can plan some new adventures for us. I was always the planner,
anyway."
Sirius snorted. "I seem to recall some of your elegant little schemes blew up in our faces," he said
with a smile.
Remus chuckled. "But we sure had fun, didn't we?"
Suddenly, a rather large mediwitch appeared. "Time's up, Mr. Black," she said in a voice that
brooked no argument.
Sirius frowned, then turned back to Remus with a smile.
"So you go have some fun while I try to plan out how we can transfigure Snape's robe into a leather
bustier," Remus said with a laugh.
Sirius chuckled. "Didn't we try that in sixth year?"
Remus laughed. "Go have fun."
***
Harry was in a panic as he sat across from the Headmaster.
Professor Dumbledore gave him a soft smile. "This is splendid news, indeed."
Harry stared. "But what did he mean, 'the Black fiasco'? Is that Sirius? Is he all right?"
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "There was an incident at Knockturn Alley. Your Godfather helped
trap some Death Eaters and succeeded beyond our hopes. There were injuries, but none lifethreatening. One poor soul, a mere pawn in Voldemort's game, was lost, unfortunately. However,
you need not concern yourself."
Harry gave an anxious frown. "But is Sirius all right?"
Dumbledore smiled benignly, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. "Yes, Harry. He will be
with you on Christmas, as planned, in fine fettle no doubt."
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Harry frowned. "So my dream was good news?"
Dumbledore nodded. "It appears that our immediate fears for your safety during the holiday have
been allayed. And we now have a lead on Voldemort's next move." Then the aged Headmaster
leaned back, giving Harry a speculative look. "Tell me, did you sense that he knew you were there
in his mind?"
Harry frowned in concentration. "I don't think so. He seemed too preoccupied. At first, he seemed
furious. Then he seemed ... I'm not sure. Like he was taunting Lucius Malfoy when he mentioned
Azkaban."
"Most curious..." Dumbledore murmured as he gazed off into space. Turning back to Harry, his
features became serious. "Harry, your connection to Voldemort has been very fruitful. However,
there are potential dangers there, as well. I would like you to come see me after the holidays. There
may be a way to maximize your talent and minimize the danger."
***
"Harry, did you hear what I said? She kissed me."
Harry blinked and turned his attention back to Ron. "You kissed her?"
"No. She kissed me," Ron said with a broad grin.
Harry shook his head briefly to dispel the concerns he still had after coming back from the
Headmaster's office. "That's great Ron," he said with limited enthusiasm.
Ron was busy grabbing clothes off his dresser and off the floor to dump into his trunk. "I sort of
asked her to go up to the Astronomy Tower, but she didn't want to do that," he said absently as he
sniffed one of his everyday robes and, shrugging, balled it up and tossed it into the trunk. "I thought
maybe ... well I didn't know what to do. Then she grabbed me and hugged me right there in the
common room, then kissed me," he said as he paused dreamily from his packing.
Harry chuckled at his friend's expression. He shook his head and opened the second segment of his
multi-compartment trunk. He reached into the top drawer of his dresser and took a handful of dress
shirts and tee-shirts and placed them into his trunk. Then he looked up at Ron, who was still
wondering how to stuff more into his own trunk. "What about Ginny? Did she and Dean have a
good time?" Harry asked.
Ron looked up and frowned with a shrug. "I don't know. Dean was already up here asleep when I
got back. I saw him this morning and he said he had fun. Not too much fun, I hope," he said with a
grin.
Harry rolled his eyes and continued to pack.
***
Dearest Draco,
Let me tell you how sorry we all are that you will not be joining us for the holidays. I sent several
notes to your Headmaster and your Head of House that you would be perfectly safe here, but there
seems to be some fears for your safety, either from vindictive Ministry forces or persons once
associated with your father.
Your father always was a mischievous, strong-willed person. I must tell you about how he would
hex my hair into lurid colors when we were children whenever our families got together. But I do
not believe all the terrible things people are saying about him. And I know, deep in my heart, that
he loves you and hopes for the day to tell you so in person.
Until that day comes, please know that we love you too, and there always will be a place for you
275
with us. Since we can't share your Christmas with you, we have tried to bring a little Christmas to
you. Please open the big package immediately. The rest you can save for Christmas Eve to open, if
you can wait that long.
With hopes that you have a very Happy Christmas,
Aunt Carmina and Uncle Bill
Draco checked the time and knew all his house-mates were now gone on the Hogwarts Express. He
sighed and tore open the large box that had been delivered by a very big eagle owl. There was a
fairly large present on top wrapped in paper decorated with little house elves in red and green
pillow cases all singing 'Open Me First, Open Me First.' Draco gave a wry smirk, pulled the green
and silver bow and stood back.
The wrapping paper fell away and a Christmas tree popped out of the box. Draco watched as it grew
in size before his eyes, fully decorated with ornaments, dancing fairies and sugar quills, until it was
nearly four feet high.
As he lifted up the tree, he saw underneath a little wooden box. He placed the tree on his dresser
next to his bed and picked up the box. He opened it carefully and realized it was a music box. He
saw there were eight buttons on the wand pad and a little note indicating what tune went with which
button. He pressed his wand to the first button and a tinkling rendition of Silent Night filled the
empty room.
Draco Malfoy wanted to sneer. He wanted to smirk at the saccharine sentimentality of it all. He
wanted to aim his wand at the whole display and turn it all into cinders.
But he couldn't. All he could do was feel the lump in his throat as he slowly reached into Aunt
Carmina's and Uncle Bill's package and slowly arranged nine small, carefully wrapped gifts under
the tree.
***
Dear Aunt Carmina and Uncle Bill,
Thank you for the gifts. And thank you for thinking of me.
Your Nephew,
Draco
***
The idea of Christmas gave Harry a warm feeling, but he didn't have a great store of happy
memories about the season. His first memory of Christmas was trying to play with the Christmas
wrappings from Dudley's presents, only to be swatted by his aunt for making a mess. He had
enjoyed sharing Christmas with Ron in his first year, but had never truly experienced a happy
family Christmas, and was unsure what to expect, even though such a family scene during this
happiest of seasons was what he yearned for the most.
So it was with excitement, but not a little trepidation, that he boarded the Hogwarts Express with
Parvati to travel first to London, then by floo network to the rolling hills of the South Down in
Hampshire to Amritsar--the Patil Estate. Sharing Christmas with not one, but two families--first the
Patils, then his foster parents--would be wonderful.
But what would the Patils think of him? They were polite when he met them in the hospital wing
after his and Parvati's encounter with Voldemort, although Hanuman the wannabe Sikh was notably
standoffish, while Shanmukha had been friendly, almost like a big brother. And what would happen
if they ever found out how serious he and Parvati had become in such a short time. He gave an
276
involuntary shiver.
And what about Tony and Mae? What would they think about Parvati? Truth be told, he had never
seen her among strangers. She generally was gregarious and made friends much more easily than he
did. But she did have a temper and could be moody. What would his foster parents think of her and
how would she react? He sighed and followed Parvati onto the Hogwarts Express.
Parvati led Harry and Padma, thankfully without Terry Boot, who was being picked up at
Hogsmeade by his parents, down the corridor to an empty compartment. Soon, they were joined by
Ron and Hermione, and by Lavender, who was glancing around frantically. "Have you seen
Seamus? Where is he? I told him to get here early." She flopped down with a pout.
Harry smiled as Parvati and Padma started talking excitedly about home. He leaned against the
window, only to be jolted when Dean jumped up from the platform and slapped the outside of the
glass next to his face. Seamus, with his partner in crime, laughed and scurried to board the train.
Seamus and Dean's entry into the compartment caused everyone to push together to make room.
The compartment was designed to fit six adults comfortably. But eight nearly grown teenagers was
a tight fit. Harry smiled as Ron and Hermione, who looked exhausted, squeezed together.
The train was barely moving when Hermione began to drop off to sleep. Harry gave Ron a quizzical
look.
"She's upset about her grades," he whispered. "She said she was up all night worried about Potions,
Astronomy and Arithmancy."
Harry shook his head with an indulgent smile.
Parvati leaned over to Harry. "She had some trouble back after we got together," she whispered. "A
couple bad weeks of quizzes."
Harry looked at Parvati and blinked in surprise.
Parvati simply shrugged.
Harry sat back and noticed that Ron had gingerly put his arm around Hermione's shoulder to let her
nap against him more comfortably.
Ron looked up and gave Harry a crooked, uncertain smile. "Too bad you couldn't come to the
Burrow for Christmas this year. My family would have loved to have you there," he said.
Harry gave Ron a resigned smile. "Well, I'd love to spend some time with your mum and dad and
the gang. But duty calls," he said, as he gave a sidelong glance toward Parvati, who pinched him in
return. He laughed.
Suddenly Seamus looked up. "Hey, Harry. When you go out snogging, make sure you have the
right sister," he said with a smile. Lavender gave Seamus a playful kick and Padma threw the
parchment she'd been reading at him.
"I'm so sick of twin jokes," Padma said with resignation.
Harry looked over Parvati's head at Padma. "Is it true that you're adopted, Padma? That's what
Parvati says."
Padma broke out in giggles. "No. Parvati's the one who's adopted. We Patils have been Ravenclaws
for generations. Parvati is the first Gryffindor in the family in, what is it, 45 years?"
Parvati chuckled. "I think it's 42 years. It's nice to be the first Patil in 42 years to be worthy enough
to be considered a Gryffindor."
Padma made a rude noise.
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Harry looked over to Padma again. "Is that right? You're a Ravenclaw family?"
Padma nodded. "Mostly. There've been a few Hufflepuffs. We don't talk about them. And a small
handful of Gryffindors. But no Slytherins since the early-1800s."
Harry smiled and nodded. "And what about you, Brownie?"
Lavender glared at Harry. "Will you stop calling me that," she growled as Seamus and Dean
collapsed in laughter. Lavender turned to Seamus. "And don't you start." Even Ron and the Patil
twins were chuckling softly.
Harry smiled. "Okay, no more Brownie...for now. So what about the Brown clan? Any particular
house?"
Lavender gave Harry and arched eyebrow. "Well, we've had our share of Slytherins down the years.
Mostly from the Northern branch of the family though, like Violet. But I guess we've mostly been
Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors, at least from my end of the family."
"So you weren't surprised to be selected for Gryffindor?"
Lavender shrugged. "I don't know. My family thought I'd end up in Hufflepuff. But I wasn't too
surprised. I knew I wouldn't end up in Slytherin and doubted I'd be put in Ravenclaw. So it was one
or the other, and I ended up in Gryffindor. My only regret is that the boys in Hufflepuff are cuter,"
she said with a smirk in Seamus's direction.
Seamus started to respond but decided that discretion was the better part of valor and snapped his
mouth shut.
Harry turned to Seamus. "What about you, mate?"
Seamus smiled. "Well, my mum was Gryffindor, and so was her folks. My da's a different story. He
went to what he calls the St. Honorius School for the Criminally Insane--in other words, he was
taught by the Jesuits at a Muggle school."
"I can only imagine what it's like to grow up in a half-Muggle, half-wizarding house," Padma said.
Seamus shrugged. "It was a little weird. My mum kept her powers a secret to my da's Muggle
friends. But we mostly operated in the wizarding world. Since we were out on the farm away from
the town, it wasn't too hard. And I learned early to keep my ears open and my mouth shut," he said,
chuckling.
"And he's managed to forget all that learning once he got to Hogwarts," Lavender said with a smirk.
Seamus shook his head sadly. "Witches. Can't live with 'em. Can't burn 'em at the stake."
The boys in the compartment cracked up. The girls, except Hermione who was still asleep against
Ron's chest, glared.
Harry, still chuckling, turned to Dean. "You've got to have the weirdest situation of all of us," he
said with a smile.
Dean nodded knowingly. "That's for sure."
Padma perked up. "Yes, Dean. I've heard you were raised in a different wizarding world. What was
it like?"
Dean smiled and shook his head. "You don't know the half of it. My dad is a Muggle, although he
claims to have witches in his family back in the Caribbean. But my mum is a full-blown bruja."
Padma leaned forward. "We learned about other wizarding disciplines in school when we were
young, but I've never met anyone from that kind of world. Tell me about it."
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Dean shrugged. "Well, my dad is from Trinidad and my mum is from Venezuela. She's a witch. But
back there, there was no wizarding schools. So you apprenticed to an older bruja. So my mum's
teacher--her grandma--trained as well as she could. But it was all word of mouth. She never had
textbooks or formal schooling. She's got strong powers but there are huge gaps in her training.
When my parents got here just before I was born, they opened up a botanica to serve the Muggle
world."
"What's a botanica?" Ron asked.
Harry gave Ron a look. Hadn't he been listening to Dean all these years?
Dean smiled mildly. "It's a herbal shop. Sort of like a Muggle version of a potions shop. Wannabe
witches and wizards and health nuts, along with a lot of the Caribbean and South American
community, come in for folk remedies. My parents were lucky that they opened when they did.
They were just getting established when the New Age trend took off in London. So the shop was an
overwhelming success. They now have three shops in London and hope someday to open a potions
shop in Diagon Alley."
Harry smiled. "But..." he prompted.
Dean laughed. "The problem is that my parents are considered part of the wizarding world by the
Muggles but are thought of as Muggles in the wizarding world."
Padma looked puzzled. "But I thought your mum was a witch?"
Dean shook his head. "She's not had any formal training. She's got no certifications. Heck, she
wasn't even aware of the scope of the wizarding world until some obliviators from the department
of accidental magic showed up shortly after my parents arrived in the country. She hexed them
good before they realized they were dealing with a real witch, not some Muggle with latent powers.
She and my dad were introduced to the wizarding world and have no trouble operating in our world.
But she's never been accepted as a full-blown witch in our world because there are so many gaps in
her knowledge. That's why she devours all my school books as soon as we buy them. Especially my
Potions and Herbology texts. By the time I get to school each year, my brand new school books
look like they are third- or fourth-hand, she goes through them so thoroughly," he said with a sad
laugh.
Harry shook his head. "There should be schools for adult witches and wizards who want to improve
their knowledge or skills. They have them in the Muggle world."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, but they probably wouldn't be fully accepted. They'd end up being called
Squibb Colleges, if I know the wizarding world."
Padma frowned and made a face. "That's not fair. It must be tough for your mum, and you."
Dean shrugged. "Always a stranger in a strange land. A foreigner in the country where I was born.
Black in a white Muggle world. Black in an even whiter wizarding world. A wizard living in the
Muggle world. A Mudblood in the wizarding world. And, worst of all, a football fan in a Quidditch
world," he said with a snort, bringing a guffaw from Seamus.
Parvati smiled. "Well, we wogs have just got to stick together now, won't we."
Dean began to chuckle.
The compartment became quiet after that. Parvati talked quietly with her sister for a few minutes
before leaning back against Harry to take a nap.
Harry awoke about an hour later, stiff from sitting awkwardly against the cold window. He gently
eased Parvati down on the bench and got up to stretch his legs. He had to high step over Dean's long
legs, which were stretched out across the gap between the benches, and made his way out to the
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corridor. He looked up and down the corridor and suddenly realized that, for the first time, he
wouldn't have to worry about a confrontation with Malfoy on the train. Draco, having no real place
to go, was staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, and Crabbe and Goyle had been withdrawn from
the school.
Harry stretched a couple times and made his way up the corridor, glancing at the various
compartments until he came across one with some of his firsties. He knocked and let himself in.
Violet Brown was asleep across Pat McGrady's lap. McGrady himself was asleep, his hand resting
on Violet's head. Harry had to laugh. Those two were constantly fighting, but always together. 'Ah,'
he thought with an inward smile. 'True love never runs smooth, even among eleven year olds.'
However, Sam and Cassie were awake, chatting excitedly about meeting their respective parents,
the two major troublemakers, Maura Duffy and Willie Peters were huddled over a puzzle book, and
Genie Beauvoir and Tom Richardson, the Beaver and the Toad were sitting quietly next to the
window. Harry was surprised to see they were holding hands.
"Harry!" Cassie squealed. "Happy Christmas!"
Harry gave a quiet smile, marveling that the few months in Hogwarts had transformed Cassandra
from a pretty, seemingly remote young daughter of a theatrical family into a bubbly, friendly young
girl. And it had changed Young Samantha from a frightened, uncertain young Muggle girl into a
confident young witch and one of the leaders among the first years. "What happened? Did you loose
the Midwitch Cuckoos," he said with a laugh.
Sam smiled up at Harry. "No. They decided there wasn't enough room and found a couple Slytherin
first years and a couple Hufflepuffs who were all Quidditch fans and decided to spend the trip
arguing over teams," she said with a quiet laugh.
Harry smiled at them all. "So everyone have big plans for the holiday?"
Sam nodded her head vigorously. "I'm going home. I can't wait for see my folks and Mickey, my
brother, to show them all the stuff I've learned."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Be careful. Remember, you're not supposed to use magic outside of
school."
"Oh, it's all right. Professor McGonagall showed me a charm I can use to shield any basic magic I
try. She said that wizarding families always use it so that their children can practice their studies
around the house."
Harry's eyes widened. "That's nice. Too bad she never told me about this charm," he said in an
annoyed voice.
Sam looked down, embarrassed. "Well...she said she only gives the charm to students who's
Muggle parents agree to allow magic around the house. Maybe your family didn't want you to use
magic," she said quietly.
Harry nodded. 'No kidding,' he thought.
He turned to Cassie. "And what about you?"
Cassie looked up and smiled. "I'm staying with my mum and dad until the day after Christmas.
Then they have to go on the road. So I'll spend the rest of the holidays with Sam and her family,"
she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "I've never spent more than a day or two in the Muggle
world, and never on my own. I can't wait."
Harry turned to Willie and Maura. "What about you two?"
Maura took a deep breath. "Should we tell him?"
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Willie gave her a sly smile and nodded.
Maura leaned forward. "We're going to rob Gringotts and then run off and get married," she said in
a conspiratorial tone.
Harry burst out laughing. "Have you two been talking to Fred and George?"
Maura and Willie started giggling. "How'd you guess," Maura said with a fake pout.
Harry chuckled. "It sounds like their bad influence. They know that if you did that, I'd have to take
20 points--each--from Gryffindor."
Willie was laughing now. "Well, we figured it was too boring to say we were just going home to
spend the holidays with our families, so we asked them what we should say. And they told us to say
that."
Harry looked at the mischievous duo fondly. "Look, be grateful to have families to go home to. I
wish I had a mum and dad who loved me to go home to."
Maura nodded solemnly, then heard Cassie sniffle behind him.
He turned a placed his hand on Cassie's shoulder. "Don't worry. I have a nice foster family to go
home to now."
Cassie looked up at Harry, blinking away tears. "I thought you were going to Parvati's house."
"I am. But she and I are also going to spend a few days at my home, as well," he said, suddenly
savoring the notion of having a warm, caring home to go back to.
Cassie looked up at Harry with anxious eyes. "Does that mean you're going to marry Parvati?"
Harry began laughing. "Not until we manage to rob Gringotts, first," he said with a smile, and Sam,
Willie and Maura started to laugh. Even the Beaver and the Toad chuckled, waking up Pat.
"Oi, Harry," Pat said in a sleepy voice as he absently stroked Violet's hair.
Harry smiled at Pat. "Petting your girlfriend, Pat?"
Pat suddenly blushed and pulled his hand away. Violet stirred but did not wake up.
Harry continued to smile. "Don't let me tease you, Pat. If you want to stroke her hair, go ahead, as
long as she doesn't mind."
Pat smiled sheepishly. "She does have soft hair. And clean. It smells nice, too. After working with
me da's sheep, I like clean soft hair."
"Going home?"
Pat nodded. "It'a be nice, I think," he said, nodding again.
"And you two? You're not planning to run off and get married, are you?" Harry said with a smile,
noticing they were no longer holding hands.
The couple blushed. "Nooo..." Tom said.
Genie smiled shyly. "I'm going to see my folks. It's the slow season and we all get together for the
holidays. All my aunts and uncles and cousins. We all get together at the main inn in Brighton.
Everyone takes turns playing guests and hosts. It's lots of fun."
"And you, Tom?" Harry said.
The Toad frowned. "Well, I'll spend Christmas with my mum, then New Years with my dad."
Harry suddenly frowned. "They're not together?"
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Tom shook his head. "They've been living apart since I was seven. I miss my Dad being around all
the time. But my parents get along okay, I guess. But I wish my dad would move back with us."
Harry gave Tom a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't know."
He shrugged.
"At least they are still around and both love you. You have that," Harry said quietly.
Tom nodded and gave Harry a grateful smile.
"Well, I just came by to wish everyone a Happy Christmas. Pat, tell Violet I wish her a Happy
Christmas when she wakes up," he said with a smile as he noticed Pat was stroking her hair again.
"And tell Steve and Mike the same if you see them."
The group wished Harry happy holidays and he left, smiling.
***
After making the rounds on the train, Harry returned to his compartment. Parvati was awake, but
now Padma was asleep, lying across her sister's lap. "Oh, drat," Harry whispered to Parvati as he
took his seat. "I wanted your lap for myself." He made a show of looking to the other end of the
bench. "Oh, well, maybe I can sprawl across Lavender's lap."
Parvati reached over and pinched him. "You do and you'll have to deal with Seamus...but only if
there's anything left of you after I get through with you."
Seamus, who was half asleep, opened one eye. "Go ahead, Harry. You can have her," he said with a
chuckle.
"Oh, shut up you bloody Irishman," Lavender said softly and shifted to get into a more comfortable
position.
Harry smiled. Across from him, Hermione was still asleep across Ron's chest. Ron, for his part, had
his head thrown back against the top of the bench and had his mouth open. "We're lucky Ron
doesn't have room to lie down. His snoring would rattle the windows."
Parvati chuckled. "Well, they're a matched pair. Hermione tends to be a heavy breather when she's
asleep."
Harry gave a soft laugh.
"Where did you wander off to?" Parvati asked.
Harry shrugged. "Just a quick Christmas snog with Professor Trelawney. I didn't realize she was on
the train until I passed her in the corridor."
Parvati nodded. "She's got a gentleman friend in Diagon Alley. That's why we could sneak up and
use her quarters last month. I told you that," she whispered.
Harry began giggling. "So that's where all her 'Embrace your aura with a lover's touch' comes
from," he said with a smirk.
Parvati elbowed him. "Be nice. There's nothing wrong with her having a lover. She lost her husband
when she was still young and now she's found someone who makes her feel young again. Why not
let her enjoy herself every couple weeks or so."
Harry nodded. He never thought of his professors as having a personal life. That's why Professor
McGonagall's reminiscences of her prime when back in the hospital wing surprised and shocked
him so. He smiled to think Trelawney running into the arms of her lover. Maybe she was human
after all. A lousy teacher, but human.
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Harry suddenly frowned in thought. "Did you notice anything odd about the firsties? Like they were
pairing off?"
Parvati blinked. "So?"
Harry frowned. "We never did that. Not that young."
Lavender gave a sleepy grunt. "That's because they're watching you two," she said quietly.
Harry blinked. "What?"
Lavender sighed. "They see you two as a couple who like each other and don't care who knows and
figure it's okay for them to be boy-girl friends. And maybe, when they start looking at each other as
boyfriends and girlfriends, the boys won't be the kind of trolls you bunch are," she said with a
smirk.
Harry ignored Lavender's jibe and shook his head in confusion. "We never acted like that," he said
in confusion.
Lavender chuckled. "That's because they have you as a role-model. Who did you have? Percy
Weasley."
***
Harry awoke to find his arms around Parvati who, still asleep, was leaning against him with an arm
around his waist. He realized that the train was slowing and gently woke up Parvati and Padma,
who still was sprawled across Parvati's lap.
"We're almost there, ladies," he said quietly.
The twins woke almost immediately. Padma reached over and woke Lavender, who in turn,
prodded Seamus sharply in the thigh. He woke with a yelp of surprise, waking the rest of the
compartment.
Suddenly, the girls all brought out mirrors to make sure their faces were straight. Parvati and
Lavender brought out small makeup kits and Padma borrowed a little powder from Parvati.
Hermione looked in her mirror and shrugged until Parvati tossed her makeup kit over. Hermione
gave her a small smile of thanks and did a quick touch-up of her own.
Seamus began to pout. "What about me? Is my face on right?" he said in a falsetto. "How about my
eyes? Any red?" He quickly pinched his cheeks. "Is this okay, or should I powder up?'
"Oh, shut up, you prat," Lavender said with a smile. "You couldn't fix that face with a roller and ten
glamour charms."
Dean laughed and grabbed Seamus. "You look mahhhh-velous, dahhhling."
Seamus sniffed. "I'm glad someone around here has some taste."
Lavender guffawed. "Yeah, me. And from going out with you, everyone knows it's all bad taste."
The whole compartment was still rocking with laughter when the train rolled to a stop.
Harry and Parvati were quite unprepared for their reception when they got off the train together.
Suddenly, parents waiting for their children began to approach them to shake their hands and thank
them for defeating the Dark Lord. Even Padma got her share of compliments, being mistaken for
her twin.
Harry shook his head sadly that there were so many in the wizarding world that had bought into the
Ministry's line that Voldemort was dead.
It was with great relief that Harry saw Arthur and Molly Weasley, beaming at him. "Mr. and Mrs.
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Weasley," he said, giving them both a hug. "It's great to see a familiar face."
Molly grabbed Harry again and holding him at arm's length, looked him up and down. "You look
wonderful. So grown up. Thank heavens you don't have You-Know-Who to worry about now. Or
those horrible Muggle relatives. No wonder you look so well." She pulled him into another fierce
hug when she saw her crowd of redheads led by Ron approaching. "Ron! Ginny! Fred! George!
Over here!" she yelled over the crowd. "Oh, and Hermione! Over here, over here!"
Harry managed to disentangle himself from Molly and Arthur after promising to come for a visit
during the summer. He frowned at Mrs. Weasley's cavalier dismissal of Voldemort's continuing
threat, but shrugged it off. He located Parvati, reveling in the attention the parents of her friends and
school mates were giving her and, with a quick nod to Padma, the two finally managed to pull
Parvati out through the invisible barrier to the Muggle part of the station.
Once through the barrier with their luggage trolleys, Harry, Parvati and Padma looked around for
any signs of the Patil family. Harry suddenly felt a chill as he noticed a rough-looking young man in
jeans, work boots and a fleece lined jacket eyeing him. He slowly and unobtrusively angled his
trolley between the young tough and the girls. Suddenly the young man walked up to Harry.
"You Potter?" he said in a rough voice.
Harry nodded, balancing on the balls of his feet, ready for almost anything.
But the young man's face split into a warm smile. He held out a rough-hewn hand. "Mickey
Bauman. Samantha's brother."
Harry let out a whoop and grasped Mickey's hand. "Oh, it's great to meet you," he said, laughing.
"Parvati, Padma. This is Sam's brother, Mickey."
Parvati ran up and gave the startled Mickey a hug. "Oh, Sam talks about you all the time."
Mickey, who himself was still a teenager, blushed at the embrace of the pretty young stranger.
Harry laughed. "Mickey. This is my girlfriend Parvati. And her sister Padma."
Mickey seemed to be at a loss for words. "You...both of you...You're, like, witches?"
Parvati burst into laughter. "Of course, silly. We don't get awarded those ugly warts on our noses
until after we graduate," she said, giggling furiously.
"MICKEY!!!"
Sam came running and jumped into her big brother's arms.
Harry smiled at the happy reunion. Then he noticed Cassie rolling her trolley rapidly behind,
flushed and out of breath.
Mickey finally released his sister, who promptly pulled Cassie to introduce her to her big brother.
"Mickey, this is my best friend Cassie Young. She's coming to stay with us next week. Don't worry,
you won't have to pick her up. How's dad and mum?"
Mickey was smiling at all the attention. "Fine, fine." Then he looked up at Harry. "Thanks, man.
Thanks for keeping an eye on my little Sam."
Harry smiled warmly. "No problem. She's a wonderful young lady."
"MUMMY? DADDY?" Cassie squeaked.
Harry turned around and did a double take. Standing, or rather seeming to be posing, were two of
the most striking people, wearing the most anachronistic outfits, he'd ever seen. Wolfram Young
was wearing a billowing black cape with a scarlet satin lining flashing in the winter breeze.
Underneath, he was wearing a cutaway tuxedo with tails. And he was wearing a broad brimmed
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fedora at a rakish angle. Caitlin Young was wearing a long flowing gray cloak with a mink collar
covering a long scarlet silk gown. She was wearing a pearl gray felt slouch cap with a scarlet band
and a long pheasant feather and was holding a cigarette holder at least a foot long. They looked like
something out of a Beardsley print of the 1920s.
"Cassandra, baby," Caitlin intoned in a deep smoky voice that belied the excitement in her eyes, as
she leaned forward, her arms outstretched.
Cassie ran into her arms, weeping in happiness. "I thought you would send a driver. I'm so glad
you're here. You can meet my friends."
Harry watched the scene. For all their seeming posing, the Youngs seemed genuinely excited to see
their daughter. Wolfram looked over at Harry and the rest with a toothy smile that, at first, gave
Harry an unhappy feeling that he was seeing Gilderoy Lockhart again. But just as suddenly,
Wolfram's smile toned down and took on a new warmth. "I say. Harry Potter, is it not? And his
young love, Parvati? Uh, which is which?" he asked, realizing he was facing twins.
Harry laughed. "I'm Harry."
Wolfram suddenly threw his head back in genuine laughter. "Okay, you got me," he said, his eyes
shining brightly as he strode forward to shake Harry's hand. "Thank you for keeping an eye on our
precious one." Then he turned and kissed Padma's hand, who blushed and muttered "I'm the sister,"
and then he turned to kiss Parvati's hand.
Then he turned to Sam, who was watching Wolfram with wide-eyed amazement. "You must be
Samantha."
Sam nodded shyly. Wolfram leaned forward and gave her a hug. "Thank you for being Cassandra's
friend. She was so frightened when she first came here that we were worried. But once she owled us
about you, we knew she was in good hands.
Suddenly, Caitlin swept forward to hug Harry. "You are my hero, you know," she whispered in his
ear.
Harry blushed furiously. "I didn't...but Voldemort...Parvati..."
But Caitlin put a gloved finger to his lips. "No. Not for that. For being a big brother to our
Cassandra...our Cassie. We've tried to be there for her, but we haven't always succeeded. But you
are there for her. And we can't thank you enough for that," she said with grateful eyes.
She turned to Parvati and Padma. "Ahhh...the beautiful twins. Cassie has told us about you. Which
one of you is Parvati?"
Parvati stepped forward uncertainly.
Caitlin gave her a quick but strong hug. "Cassie has owled us about how you and your friend
Lavender have taken her and Samantha under your wing. Thank you for that. She needed someone
like you and I am eternally grateful for all you've done and all you've meant to her."
After a few more minutes of chatting, Harry and the twins finally tore themselves away and headed
toward the main meeting area of the station.
Padma looked around impatiently. "Hanuman," she said flatly.
Parvati nodded.
Harry looked up in puzzlement. "What about Hanuman?"
"He's always late," Padma said. "He and Shane--Shanmukha--were supposed to be here waiting for
us. That means we'll have to wait at least another fifteen minutes, maybe a hour."
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"Shane?" he asked.
Parvati nodded. "Shane is Shanmukha's nickname. Daddy's annoyed. He keeps telling everyone that
shortening your Indian name is disrespectful to the god or goddess you're named after. But Shane
pointed out that we've been Church of England for about 200 years. So we can get away with
calling Ganapathi Gani and Shanmukha Shane. I guess there's no nickname for Hari. That should be
fun with you around. We're going to have to be very careful about pronouncing your names. I'd hate
to call you into a cozy corner and have him show up."
Padma started giggling. "You take Hari, I'll take Harry."
Harry blushed as Parvati gave her sister a playful swat.
Suddenly the girls turned. Harry followed their glance and saw a dark-haired man in sunglasses and
a long black leather coat, his arms crossed and his face glowering, staring generally in their
direction.
"SHANE!!!" the girls cried as they scurried to hug their brother.
He embraced the twins warmly and looked up to nod at Harry with a smile. "Harry," he said in a
one-word greeting. The smile faded as he turned to look over his shoulder. He looked down at his
sisters. "The Monkey Man...at it again," he said in exasperation.
"It's not my fault," said a young man in a dark suit and a camel hair top coat. "Blame Percy
Weasley. Mr. Ministry Assistant insisted that Fudge needed that blasted report on French trade
relations immediately. The French delegation isn't due until early March! Who works until the last
minute before Christmas leave?"
Harry blinked several times. He had met the entire Patil family in the hospital wing and the
Hanuman he remembered was wearing a turban and a jeweled curved dagger. This person had
short, sandy blonde hair and a military cut mustache.
"Hanuman?" Harry asked tentatively.
The man turned to Harry. "Harry Potter, we meet again," he said coolly. "Savior of the wizarding
world and despoiler of my sister."
Parvati's eyes flared and she suddenly wheeled and punched him in the stomach. Hanuman doubled
over and fell to his knees. "Listen, Monkey. One more word and I'll get that phony knife you used
to carry around and put it to work," she growled.
Shane shook his head. "No more Muggle movies for him. Now he thinks he's Moses. 'Let My Sister
Go'!" he said with a smirk. "Come on Harry. You take one arm, I'll take the other. If anyone asks,
tell them he's been drinking."
Harry gingerly grabbed Hanuman's arm as the girls maneuvered the three trolleys out to the parking
area.
Harry was surprised to find Shane lead them to a large sport utility vehicle. Harry and the girls
loaded their trunks in the boot as Shane manhandled Hanuman into the front seat.
Shane then walked back and pulled Harry to the side. "Listen, Harry. Don't worry about the
Monkey Man up there. We all understand you and Parvati are a couple. Just try to be discrete when
you get to Amritsar. Our dad is a little conflicted about Parvati fooling around. Hell, he'd be
conflicted about Lakshmi fooling around and she's going to be twenty-six next month. So if you two
want to play around, don't let dad or Moses up there catch you. Okay?"
Harry was blushing and gabbling in a panic. Did everyone know he and Parvati had slept together?
Shane started to laugh. "Don't worry. We hid Monkey's knife," he said, giving Harry a playful slap
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on the back.
Harry slipped into the back seat of the SUV and Parvati slid in beside him. "Hey Harry! Wanna
snog!" she said in a loud voice.
Harry looked at her in a wild-eyed panic and Padma burst into laughter.
"Aww, shut up," the Monkey Man said weakly from the front seat.
***
Harry had finally calmed down enough for Parvati to explain that Hanuman was named after the
mischievous Hindu monkey god, hence the nickname 'Monkey.' He settled down and began to relax
a little as Parvati leaned against him in the back seat. They'd only been riding for about twenty
minutes and were still in central London when Shane made a quick turn off the street and down a
dark alley.
Harry suddenly sat up in a renewed panic. Shane was an Auror and Hanuman was a Ministry
official. Were they taking him into this dark alley to kill him for sleeping with their sister?
His panic increased when Shane failed to slow down as he approached the back wall of the alley.
Suddenly, everything went black.
And just as suddenly, the lights were back on. "Where are we?" he said weakly.
Shane pulled the SUV up next to another in an underground parking area. Harry looked around and
suddenly saw the huge old Daimler limousine that Cyrus Thomas had picked him up in at the end of
last summer. "I rode in that limousine this summer," he muttered.
Shane chuckled. "Just something left over from Pretium Jones, who was Minister of Magic in the
1960s. He had a thing for Muggle luxuries," he observed.
Shane shut off the engine and turned back to Harry. "We're in the basement of an Auror substation.
You didn't think I was going to drive you all the way to Portsmouth, did you?"
Harry looked around the basement again. There were several more Muggle vehicles, along with
what looked like a couple horse-drawn wagons, lockers and a room walled off with a wire mesh
grid. "I guess not. I didn't know what to think."
"Let's go," Shane said, waving his wand to summon a cart for their luggage.
The group walked through a wide door and into a room with the largest fireplace Harry had ever
seen.
"It's an emergency floo network entrance," Shane said. "We can move in large numbers quickly to
some one hundred eighty locations in Britain through here. Or we can go singly in large numbers,"
he said, pointing to ten normal sized fireplaces on the far wall.
Harry nodded, understanding.
Shane turned to Harry. "Now Harry, remember. We are going to the 'Patil Estate Amritsar.' That
will get you to our farm. Not the 'Patil Home' or the 'Patil Farm.' Now say it after me. 'Patil Estate
Amritsar'."
"'Patil Estate Amritsar'," he said firmly and clearly.
Shane gave a quick nod, then turned around. "Where's Monkey?"
Padma rolled her eyes and Parvati shook her head, motioning back toward the SUV.
Shane's eyes got wide in annoyance. "Dammit, Monkey! You've already made us late! Let's go!" he
shouted.
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"I told you, it's that damn Percy Weasley's fault!" came the shouted reply as Monkey emerged from
behind the Muggle vehicle, dragging a trunk.
"You're the one who's always late, but it never seems to be your fault!" Shane shouted in reply.
"Oh, shut up!" Hanuman yelled.
"NO, YOU SHUT UP!!!"
"NO, YOU SHUT UP!!!"
"NO, YOU SHUT UP!!!"
Harry watched goggle-eyed as the two Patil brothers, an Auror and a Ministry official, continued
screaming at each other like a couple eight-year-olds.
Suddenly, he was shoved toward the big fireplace. "Remember, Patil Estate Amritsar," Parvati
whispered in an exasperated voice.
A handful of floo powder seemed to be tossed from nowhere and the flames turned green. A hand
firmly pushed him into the fire and he muttered "Patil Estate Amritsar."
Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel, and he was off, seeing dozens, even hundreds of hearths
pass quickly as he hurdled through the floo network. Finally, he landed with a thud.
As Harry picked himself up, he heard shouting.
"You've already wasted 3,500 Galleons on this India business!" Harry heard a man shout. "Now
Ireland!?!"
"Great-great-great-grandmother was an O'Brien!!! That makes me part Irish!" came the retort.
"You couldn't be a broom-polisher on the Irish national team!!!"
"I have the right to find it out myself!!!"
"And waste the rest of your trust fund on another round of lawsuits for a tryout!?! WHEN ARE
YOU GOING TO GET A JOB, GANI?!?"
"AND WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET A LIFE, HARI!?!"
"OH, SHUT UP!"
"NO, YOU SHUT UP!!!"
"NO, YOU SHUT UP!!!"
Harry blinked as the shouting suddenly stopped when they noticed the fireplace flare a bright green
as he began to emerge. He stepped out of the fireplace to see a tall, dark-haired young man, who he
recognized as an angry Hari Patil, and a fit-looking younger man with sandy blond hair, who, but
for the blondish hair, might have been--no it was--a furious Ganapathi Patil, with an annoyed
middle-aged woman, Parvati's mum, Lilac Patil, standing between them and a trim but exasperated
middle-aged man, Parvati's dad, Sanjit Patil, sitting behind them with his hands over his ears. They
all suddenly looked up at him.
The woman's angry look instantly turned warm as she smiled at him. "Harry Potter! Welcome to
Amritsar!"
***
"Patil Estate Amritsar."
Sirius was frowning as he felt the sudden tug in the pit of his stomach that his Godson described as
being pulled inward through the navel. Sirius, on the other hand, thought it felt like being on a
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Muggle roller coaster.
Suddenly, he was there. He took a deep breath and stepped out of fireplace.
And Lakshmi Patil was there, holding out her hand to greet him. "Welcome to Amritsar," she said
warmly with a glint of humor in her eyes. "We needed someone to liven this place up."
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CHAPTER 17 AMRITSAR
***
Harry wasn't sure what to expect. Amritsar was named for the ancestral home of the Patils, a city in
the Northern Indian state of Punjab just south of the Himalayans and just east of Lahore, the capital
of what now is Pakistan. So Harry expected Amritsar Manor to be full of beaded curtains, ivory
carvings and exotic painted silk screens.
Nothing could have been further from fact. It resembled nothing as much as a Victorian country
house, with a large, two story central room with high beamed ceilings and chairs, sofas and side
tables scattered around. He looked up to see a railed walkway that led to the various bedrooms on
the two upper floors. There was a large dining room and a spacious kitchen with dozens of small
cabinet doors one side of the ground floor, and a study, sitting room and library on the other. And
there was an odd door to an enclosed corridor that extended about 20 feet out to what looked like a
tiny cottage.
Harry looked curiously at the cottage and the enclosed connection to the main house. "What's that?"
he asked Parvati.
She chuckled. "That's the Muggle room."
Harry shook his head in confusion.
Parvati laughed. "That room is apart from the rest of the house to allow shields against magic that
would interfere with the Muggle equipment. You know, the tele, the stereo, the computers, all that
electrical stuff."
***
He was actually surprised how much fun he had had so far at Amritsar. Once the awkward
introductions were over, Hari and Gani had launched into an intense discussion of Quidditch with
Harry. Shane and Monkey managed to contribute on occasion, as had Parvati, Padma and Lakshmi.
But somehow, talking Quidditch with Hari and Gani, who had been Ravenclaw chasers ten years
apart, was like hearing Ron in stereo.
Amid all the arguing and complaining, Harry found Shane's wife, Janine, to be the one pocket of
sanity.
"Is it always like this," Harry whispered to her with a confused smile.
The pregnant Janine gave a hearty laugh, keeping her hands folded over her swelling belly. "You
don't know the half of it," she said with a glint in her eye.
Harry gave her a quizzical look.
She gave him a warm smile. "Lil told me that, when she met Sanjit in school, he was handsome and
sweet. But he always seemed to be holding back, like he was trying to be the perfect young man to
please his parents. She said she vowed that she would loosen him up and make sure none of her
children would be so straight-laced. I think she succeeded too well," Janine said, giggling and
hiccuping amid the uproar.
Harry simply shook his head in wonder.
The next day, he had found himself hauled out of bed for an impromptu Quidditch match, with he,
Sirius and Shane as chasers, Parvati as a merely average beater and Mr. Patil as only a fair keeper,
against Hari, Gani and Lakshmi as chasers, Padma as a beater who was a little better than her sister,
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and Monkey as a surprisingly good, if loud, keeper. "No seekers permitted," Monkey announced.
Harry complained loudly, but with a smile, that the odds had been stacked against his team, as Hari
and Gani worked fluidly and well together, much to the grumbling of their father, Sanjit. And he
had to laugh as Parvati and Padma spent the end of the match hitting an off-speed bludger mostly at
each other, rather than at the opposing chaser lines. The match was finally called with the score
200-90 against Harry's side.
Supper was an event, as Lil showed she was a great cook. Harry chuckled at how Lil managed to
serve numerous courses in small portions, unlike Molly Weasley, who would serve a few dishes in
massive quantities.
And Harry discovered what he had expected from the start: that the favorite pass-time of the Patil
sons and daughters was arguing. Hari, it seemed, was the main subject for abuse, specifically over
the fact that he was 32 years old and not married. Gani came under nearly the same amount of abuse
over his constant quest to find a professional, or at least semi-professional Quidditch team to take
him, rather than finding a real job, preferably with the firm, as Sanjit and Hari insisted. Monkey, of
course, seemed to he the main instigator, and came in for his share of abuse simply for being the
Monkey Man.
Lakshmi, for her part, seemed to enjoy watching the action, and contribute on occasion, but mostly
she could be seen sitting back, providing a running commentary for Harry, Sirius, and Shane's wife
Janine.
Harry watched all this, wondering why Shane and the girls seemed to be exempt. Finally, late on
the second night he was there, he pulled Parvati aside to ask.
Parvati first looked at him uncertainly, then made a face. After making sure they wouldn't be over
heard, she pulled him into a corner. "Look, Harry. Don't tell anyone, but Janine caught Shane
fooling around last year and kicked him out. They made up and all. We always used to give Shane
the devil about being such a flirt and all, but after last year, we stopped because it makes Janine
upset."
Harry nodded. "But what about Lakshmi?"
Parvati looked down. "The boys used to like to pick on her about her love life, or lack of one. But
she's been lonely for quite a while, and now she just cries when they do. We like to tease each other.
But it's not supposed to hurt. So we make fun of her running the business and bossing everyone else
around, but we try to be careful."
Harry nodded, solemnly.
Parvati's face suddenly brightened mischievously. "And as for Padma and I--well, there's nothing to
criticize. We're perfect," she said with a hearty laugh.
But it was the next day, Christmas Eve Day, that was an anxious one for Harry. It had started out
pleasantly. After Sunday services, Parvati led him out of the house. It was cold, but not bitterly so,
with the temperature hovering a few degrees above freezing.
Harry followed obediently as she walked him out to what looked like a long, low cottage. He was
about to ask her what it was when she led him to the side of the building and opened tall, broad
doors. "I want you to meet one of my best friends," she said with a broad smile.
Harry stared in surprise. It was a stable.
Parvati stopped at the first of about a dozen stalls. "Harry, meet Oxhead."
Harry noticed the stall had a brass plate that read 'Bucephalus.' Then he looked up to see a beautiful
chestnut stallion with a white diamond on its forehead.
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Parvati threw her arms around the horse's neck as it snorted and nuzzled her affectionately. "Hey,
Ox. Meet Harry," she murmured among a series of other nonsense words.
Harry didn't quite know what to do.
"Raise your hand and let him smell it," she whispered. "Maybe, if you're good, he'll let you stroke
his muzzle."
Harry stared at the animal wide-eyed. He had never been this close to a regular horse before,
although he had met centaurs like Firenze, Bane and Ronan, and unicorns like Snowflake. But
Oxhead seemed even bigger than Ronan, the biggest centaur he'd met. Harry gave an uncertain
smile and raised his hand to Oxhead's nose.
The horse snorted.
Suddenly, he felt Parvati slip something into his other hand. "Give him that," she whispered.
Slowly Harry raised his left hand and opened it to reveal a few sugar cubes. Oxhead gave Harry a
speculative look and gently took the cubes from Harry's hand.
Parvati inched over and put her arms around Harry. "There you go, Ox. That's Harry."
After a few more minutes of getting to know Oxhead, Parvati dragged Harry over to an enclosed
room that ran at least three stall lengths along the opposite side of the corridor. Parvati opened the
door to the tack room and motioned Harry in. She turned to look at him and frowned. "Take off
your trousers."
Harry's eyes opened in a panic. "But...what if someone should walk in?" he stuttered.
Parvati rolled her eyes and turned to open one of the lockers along the inner wall. She reached in
and pulled out a pair of khaki trousers and tossed them to Harry. "These are Shane's. You're about
his size, maybe a tad thinner. They should fit." She continued to rummage through the neatly kept
locker. She tossed out a pair of boots with a bit of heel to them. "Try these."
Harry looked at the clothes being tossed in his direction. "What...?"
"Take off your trousers," she ordered.
Harry blushed and removed his cloak, shoes and trousers and quickly donned the khaki pair. "They
feel a little loose," he remarked.
Parvati nodded. "I hope so. There's charmed padding. You'll need it as a new rider."
Harry absently reached down to his thighs. "They feel weird."
Parvati sighed. "You don't know anything about riding, do you?"
Harry shook his head, wide-eyed. "You want me to ride? On a horse?"
Parvati ignored him as she removed her long coat and moved to a locker down a ways. She already
was wearing her riding breeches. She kicked off her shoes and grabbed a pair of tall boots. "Try
Shane's boots."
Harry tried the boots. "They're a little loose."
Parvati returned to give him a pair of heavy socks.
As Harry pulled the socks over his own socks, he started chuckling. "Where can I buy these.
They're just the thing for Professor Dumbledore."
Parvati gave in a quizzical look and pulled out a pair of laced leather tubes.
Harry glanced at her with curiosity.
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"They're half chaps. You wear them with paddock boots when you don't have full riding boots."
Soon, Harry was fully dressed.
Parvati then led him to a stall down from Oxhead. "This is Lord Lumos. He's Padma's."
Harry stared at the horse. He was almost as big as Oxhead, and a deep brown. Unlike Oxhead, Lord
Lumos seemed calmer and much less haughty.
"He gets on with Oxhead better than the others and is much better behaved. He'll be good for you."
Harry shuffled nervously as he helped Parvati bring Lord Lumos's saddle and tack out and put it on.
Then he watched Parvati prepare Oxhead as she explained the basics of riding.
Finally, the couple led their horses out of the stable and out past the paddock to the open field
behind Amritsar. After a couple tries, Harry managed to mount Lord Lumos. It was a surprisingly
nice feeling.
Parvati, who already was up on Oxhead, turned to him. "Remember, Harry. If Oxhead takes it into
his head to run, just keep a slight pressure on the reins. Lumey knows when to let Ox have his
head."
As they began their ride, Parvati slowly increased the pace. Harry was amazed how wonderful it
felt. It was almost like riding a broom. But it was even more exciting as he never felt the power in
his broom as he felt under him now. And he also felt a thrill knowing he wasn't totally in control the
way he was on a broom, and that he would have to work to maintain control of the huge, beautiful
beast under him.
Harry noticed Ox was bobbing his head nervously.
"Harry, hold on to Lumey and don't try to follow at more than a trot. Ox wants to run."
And suddenly, Parvati kicked and Ox was off like a shot.
Harry could feel Lumey fidgeting nervously under him, and gave him a slight nudge with his boot
heels to follow, like Parvati had showed him. But soon, Harry began to feel a little more confident
and gave Lumey more leeway. Soon, he was racing across the fields almost at Ox's pace. It was the
most exhilarating thing he had felt since his first time on a broom.
As Ox veered to the right ahead, Harry could feel Lumey veer. And somehow, after years on
brooms, Harry understood how to lean into the turn, as well.
Parvati continued to ride up to the top of a rise, slowing Ox and turning him around to see Harry
racing Lumey not far behind her. As Ox campered excitedly, Harry managed, only a little
awkwardly, to join them at the top of the rise.
Parvati was practically bouncing with excitement. "I knew it!" she cried. "I knew you were a
natural! Just seeing you on a broom for the first time back in first year, I knew you could be a rider,
too."
Harry gave her a foolish grin, then calmed a little. He sighed in pleasure and then looked around the
fields below them. "What are all those houses down there?"
Parvati sidled up to Harry and Lumey. She pointed to each house. "That's 'Kharma,' Shane and
Janine's place. The one by the stream is 'Beas,' Hari's place. The big house over to the left is 'Batala,'
my Uncle Mandar's house. And the cozy place on the far hill is 'Siwalik,' where my granny lives."
Harry blinked. "Your whole family all lives here?"
Pavati shrugged. "Granny and Shane and Janine live here full time. My parents, Hari, Gani and
Monkey live in our house near Portsmouth. Uncle Mandar and my cousin Jay live nearby in
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Portsmouth as well. But we spend as much time out here as possible."
"Wow," Harry said with a wistful smile. "The whole family together."
Pavati chuckled. "That's why you have to be careful flooing here. This is all the Patil Estate. You
have to be specific as to which house you want to go. You wouldn't want to accidentally floo into
Shane and Janine's and scare the kids, or worse, into Hari's and stumble into one of his girlfriends."
Parvati then gazed out at the surrounding grounds. "Maybe someday..." she said quietly.
***
Harry sighed in happiness as the couple rode slowly back to Amritsar. Parvati had showed him the
small cottage in a copse of trees on the grounds and they had enjoyed the privacy.
But there was something that nagged at the back of his mind. Finally, he turned to Parvati and took
a deep breath.
"Parvati, I figured your family was prosperous. But I had no idea you were rich."
Parvati turned to look at him with a puzzled expression. "We're not rich," she said in a halting
voice. "Well, maybe well off among the merchant class. I guess we're on par with the Richardsons,
the Zabinis and the Abbotts...they're the ones I'm familiar with. Padma and I went to primary school
with them, you know."
Harry frowned. "I didn't know..."
She chuckled. "This is nothing compared to Lavender. Her family's holdings are huge, and the
Northern branch of the clan...well, they are so closed and secretive that nobody knows how rich
they are."
"They're all rich? Like you and Hannah and Blaise? Like Malfoy?"
Parvati gave Harry a crooked smile. "Well, I guess some of us are well-to-do. Some more than
others. Look at the Malfoys. Why do you think Draco could act like he does. His family is
immensely wealthy. Not on par with the Browns. But they've always used their money to get what
they wanted, and to get away with what they want."
Harry frowned in thought. "You mean a lot of our classmates are rich?"
Parvati shrugged. "Sure. A lot of the old-line pure-blood families have large land holdings. Why do
you think Pansy is such a whore around Draco? Her family is one of the 55, but they are small.
They have decent holdings, but not on the scale of the Malfoys or the Adairs or the O'Briens over in
Ireland."
"What is the 55?"
Parvati tilted her head in surprise. They're the 55 official pure-blood families. It used to be the 200
decades ago, but there's been so much intermarriage with Muggleborns in the past 50 years that
there was a move about 20 years ago to change all that. That's why you're not a member of the 55.
The Potters never bothered with the pure-blood stuff. I can't be because I'm a wog, an immigrant.
After all, we've only been in England for 11 generations," she said with a snort.
Harry shrugged. "So they're all rich," he said flatly. "All these rich kids coming to Hogwarts."
Parvati's eyes fluttered in consternation. "Harry, what did you expect? It's not as if this is a regular
Wizarding school."
Harry gave her a puzzled look. "If this is such an elite school for rich kids, how do you explain the
Weasleys all going here? Or the Creeveys? What about Crabbe and Goyle? They were one step up
from being mountain trolls."
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Parvati sighed. "Do you really think the Weasleys are poor? They were reasonably well off. Not
rich, but certainly not poor. But they have been putting seven kids through Hogwarts. This year
alone, they are probably spending close to 2,500 Galleons to keep them all here. That's probably
50% more than most Wizarding families earn in a year. And when Percy was here, they had five
children going to Hogwarts at the same time. To put it in terms you can understand, that's about
250,000 pounds sterling for the seven of them just for Hogwarts. Of course they don't have a lot of
money to throw around."
Harry sighed. "What about the others. I heard Amy Hattan say that her father is a dock worker or
something."
Parvati shook her head. "Each year, there are a few Muggle students, and a few from the Wizarding
world, that show exceptional talent who get scholarships. Hermione probably could have gotten a
scholarship except that her parents could afford to send her here. That's probably how Amy and the
Creeveys could come to be at Hogwarts."
Harry frowned, deep in thought. "Well, if it's such an elite school, why do we have so many lousy
teachers?"
Parvati twisted absently in her saddle. "Well...most of the professors have long been retired. Look at
how old so many of them are. They've made their fortunes and have expertise in their field and
wanted to teach. And some have such strong ties to Hogwarts that they couldn't stay away."
Harry snorted. "So what about Crabbe and Goyle?"
Parvati shook her head. "You still don't get it, do you? Hogwarts provides the best education in the
Wizarding world. But it also gives students a chance to get to know the elite in the Wizarding
world. Most children in our world would never even get to meet, much less get to know, a Brown, a
Malfoy, a Harry Potter, someone like Susan Bones whose guardian is the MLE minister, or Cedric
Diggory..." and she closed her eyes in pain, as did Harry.
Parvati gave Harry a sad glance. Finally, she took a deep breath. "Harry," she said softly. "My mum
and dad explained to me that we're going to school with future Ministers of Magic, Patriarchs and
Matriarchs of clans and the major wizarding families, and the heads of the major industries in our
world. That is something you can't buy, but you can experience by going to Hogwarts. So families
use all their resources and all their influence to get their children into Hogwarts. And some
pureblood families have enough influence and resources, or high-placed friends, to get their
children into school even if they are trolls."
Harry nodded, feeling very confused and very uncomfortable as the couple arrived back at the
stables.
***
It had been a wonderful, but disconcertingly enlightening, morning. But now, Harry looked
anxiously at his Godfather, who was frowning in thought.
"So what do they want to see us about?" Harry said nervously.
Sirius made a face. "Well, I'll let them explain. They're just waiting for Hanuman."
Harry would have laughed if he wasn't so terrified. Hanuman was late again, but for what? 'My
execution?' Harry thought anxiously.
Hanuman suddenly came bounding down the stairs and paused in front of Harry. "Sorry. I couldn't
find my knife," he said to Harry with a leering grin. He then stepped into the study.
Harry jumped when he heard shouting. "What do you mean they're out there? Why are they
waiting?" he heard a voice sounding like Hari. "Bring them in!"
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Hanuman poked his head out of the door. "We're ready for you now," he said with a evil grin.
"SHUT UP!" he heard another voice shout.
Sirius and Harry rose and entered the library.
Harry was surprised at the size of the library. There were four small desks with chairs, and several
easy chairs and sofas. And there were bookcases up to the ceiling on two walls. And these were not
for show. The books were of all sizes, shapes and ages, from an entire bookcase with diamondshaped shelves instead of flat ones to hold scrolls, to ones holding stacks of papers. There was even
a bookcase that looked to hold nothing but Muggle books on everything from accounting to history
to a couple shelves of Muggle novels. He chuckled at some of the authors. Ian Fleming. John
LeCarre. Mario Puzo.
Near the fire, Sanjit was sitting in a large armchair on one side. Hari, Shane and Monkey were
sitting in a sofa on the other side. And in the middle was a loveseat facing the fire.
Sanjit smiled and rose. "Have a seat, Sirius, Harry. I didn't realize you were out there. My sons
should have invited you in directly," he said, suddenly glaring at the three young men on the couch.
Harry and Sirius gingerly took their seats and looked around curiously.
"Gani can come to meetings when he gets a real job," Monkey said, making a face.
Sanjit frowned at Monkey, then leaned back in his chair and templed his fingers under his chin.
"Has Sirius talked to you about why we asked to talk to you?"
Hanuman suddenly cackled evilly, only to be elbowed by both Hari and Shane.
Harry glanced over at the three brothers with wide eyes, then turned back to Sanjit, who looked
exasperated. "You must excuse my sons..."
Suddenly there were snorts from Hari and Shane and an innocent smile from Monkey.
Sanjit rolled his eyes. "Harry. We understand that your Godfather has no knowledge of, or control
over, your finances."
Harry frowned and shrugged.
"And I understand you were raised by Muggle relatives. Were they involved in your finances?"
Harry scowled. "No way. They would have stolen every knut I have in Gringotts."
Sanjit nodded. "And your current guardians ... well, I understand that there is a matter of security. I
promise you that my wife and I will never divulge what little we know of them..." He then cast a
narrow-eyed glance to his sons. "Not to anyone."
Harry nodded in confusion.
Sanjit returned the nod. "And your new guardians similarly have no knowledge or control over your
finances?"
Harry shrugged. "It never came up. I guess not, unless Professor Dumbledore mentioned
something."
Sanjit continued. "And yourself?"
Harry frowned. "What about me?"
Sanjit sighed. "You are aware of your financial situation?"
Harry went to open his mouth, then turned to look at Sirius, who simply shrugged.
Harry took a deep breath. "According to my last Gringotts statement, I have 31,700 Galleons in my
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account."
Hanuman raised his eyebrows, Shane looked thoughtful, but Hari and Sanjit frowned.
Sanjit pursed his lips before he spoke. "That's about enough to support you for about ten years if
you are careful. Do you have a full accounting of your vault?"
Harry shrugged. "My last statement gave five years of information. They deduct the costs for
Hogwarts each year. There's something called trustee fee. I guess that's one percent. That's what it
looks like. I get about 1,000 to 1,500 a year in something they call shared risk investment..."
Sanjit snorted. "They're lending against your account and splitting the profits. But not the risks.
Damned Goblins," he muttered. "Well, at least that's within the interest range of safe loans."
Harry frowned again. "And I got about four deposits of 500 Galleons each for something called
'Ministry/Accruals'." He looked at Sanjit with a puzzled expression
Sanjit's eyes widened. He looked at Hari. "What's that?"
Hari shrugged, frowning.
Sanjit lowered his head in thought. Finally, he glanced up. "Harry, you have no blood relatives in
the wizarding world?"
Harry shrugged. "Not that I know of."
Sanjit cleared his throat. "The reason why I asked you to sit down with us is that we are concerned
about your financial situation."
"Yeah, we don't want any gold-diggers dating our sister," Monkey whispered with a smirk, again
earning elbows from his brothers.
Sanjit closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "This has nothing to do with Parvati. You are a fine
young man and we like you. We are just concerned about you and the status of the Potter Estate. It
appears that it is being kept in trust by the Ministry. And, absent an adult blood relative in our world
to act for you, you will have to wait until you reach the age of seventeen before the estate is
released to you. With your permission, we could make some inquiries for you."
Harry looked at Sirius, who shrugged and nodded.
Harry turned back to Sanjit. "Okay, I guess."
Sanjit turned to Sirius. "And you, Sirius. May we do the same for you?"
Sirius frowned. "I don't care about that money."
Sanjit sighed. "Sirius. You are now the head of one of the 55 families. The Blacks were not among
the richest of the 55, but the Black Estate is not small. I would suggest that you take a more active
interest. If you decline your inheritance, it goes to the nearest blood relative."
Sirius frowned. "Narcissa's mother was my oldest aunt. Andromeda Tonks's mother was next,
followed by ..." and Sirius's eyes narrowed "Ballatrix LeStrange's mother. They're all dead, as is
Narcissa. So Andromeda would be next in line?"
Sanjit frowned again. "Not necessarily. She's married to a Muggle, and there are special rules
regarding pureblood fortunes at risk of leaving the wizarding world. If I were you, Sirius, I would
be more active in pursuing your inheritance. Otherwise, there is a real risk it could end up in
Narcissa's estate. In Lucius Malfoy's hands."
Both Sirius and Harry felt a shiver of cold run down their spines. Finally, Sirius sighed. "I would
appreciate your help," he said quietly.
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After another ten minutes of idle chit-chat, and a few elbow-inducing comments from Monkey,
Harry and Sirius left.
Sanjit's pleasant face turned serious. He looked at Hari. "That doesn't sound right."
Hari frowned and turned to Monkey, who just shrugged. "Where I work in the Ministry, an 'accrual'
is just a smokescreen for an accounting error in your favor. But when that happens, it's usually just
some prat whose calculating spells were poor. It doesn't recur in the same amount several times."
Shane simply shrugged and looked down in thought.
Sanjit simply frowned. "Call our lawyers first thing after Christmas," he said finally.
***
Harry was snuggling with Parvati when Padma come bounding around the corner. "There you are,
you two," she said excitedly. "Harry! My mum wants to see you. She wants to test your skills in the
kitchen," she said with a giggle.
Parvati burst out laughing. "Don't worry, Harry," she said gasping. "Mum does this to every girl any
of my brothers bring home. It's about time she did this to a boy!"
Padma joined Parvati in laughing.
Parvati started to follow Harry. "I can't wait to see this," she said, chuckling evilly.
Then Padma grabbed her arm. "Oh, no. Mum said he has to face this alone. Anyway, I've got
something for you to see," she said with her eyes sparkling.
Parvati stopped short and Harry continued on with a worried look. He vaguely heard Pavati ask
"Again?" and Padma reply something about Sirius and Shi-Shi 'huddled thick as thieves' together.
Harry slowly entered the kitchen, and Lilac Patil turned to greet him with a half smile. "Harry,
Parvati tells me you fancy yourself as something of a cook. Ever been in a magical kitchen before?"
Harry blinked and shrugged. "I stayed with the Weasleys and watched Mrs. Weasley cook."
Lil Patil nodded. "Molly and Arthur. Nice people. My husband and I went to school with them.
They were Gryffindors and we were Ravenclaws."
Harry smiled at her and looked around the large kitchen. There were numerous heating platforms
and more pots and pans hanging from hooks on the ceiling than he'd ever seen. But what was most
striking was the multitude of cabinets. Harry frowned in concentration.
Lil noticed and gave a bubbly laugh. "You were raised by Muggles, correct?"
Harry nodded.
"And you now are staying with a Muggle clergyman and his wife...Oh, my husband and I know.
Your Headmaster told us. And we understand. Your secret is safe."
Harry sighed and nodded.
"The first key to a good meal is fresh ingredients," she continued. She reached to open one of the
larger cabinet doors and Harry looked in. He was startled. It was like opening a window on a large
garden, with numerous tomato plants growing in warm sunshine here on a cold overcast day the
middle of winter. Lil grabbed four tomatoes and handed them to Harry. "Blanch and peel them,
please." She opened the next cabinet and Harry saw two rows of romaine lettuce growing in a
completely different garden.
Harry watched in amazement as she opened one cabinet after another and each seemed to be its own
garden, whether it be vegetables, fruits or herbs. She suddenly turned to Harry. "Chicken?"
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Harry shrugged. "I guess. I've made chicken."
Lil opened a tall narrow door and Harry was startled to see a small barnyard full of live chickens.
She summoned three with her wand and grabbed them out of the air only to stuff them into a nearby
empty cabinet. After about ten seconds, she opened the cabinet and withdrew three killed, plucked,
cleaned and dressed chickens.
Lil turned and smiled at Harry. "Let's get started."
Harry's head was spinning as she showed him all the conveniences of the kitchen proper. "Don't
mind me," she said with a chuckle. "There are only about a dozen kitchens like this in all of
England, and I think the Zabinis own half of them for their restaurants. I love showing this off," she
said with a chuckle.
However, once the actual preparation and flavoring for cooking started, Lil slowed down. "Here
Harry, you peel and chop the vegetables. I find it relaxing to do a lot of this by hand."
Harry started on the carrots, peeling then cutting them on a bias as his Aunt Petunia had taught him.
Lil nodded in approval. Finally, she took what seemed to be a deep breath. "Parvati tells me you had
a girlfriend before her. Hermione?"
Harry started. "Well...not exactly..."
Lil turned to him. "Were you sleeping with her before you slept with Parvati?"
Harry's eyes went wide. This was it, he thought. She's holding a razor sharp chef's knife. Should he
bolt to the nearest exit and get to Sirius before she killed, cleaned, plucked and dressed him?
Lil stared more intently. "Oh, stop looking like you were just hit by a stunning curse," she said with
just a hint of humor in her voice. "You must have suspected this was coming. Yes, Harry. It's 'the
talk'."
Harry face had turned a dark shade of red as he looked down at the counter.
Lil Patil sighed. "I know. So does Padma and Lakshmi. And maybe Shane, either through Sirius or
Janine. My husband and my other sons suspect, but don't really want to know, and we aren't going
to tell them."
Harry gave a weak nod.
"Harry, I want you to look at me."
Harry slowly raised his anxious eyes to meet hers.
Lil Patil's face took on a serious look. "I want to tell you that I don't approve. I don't like it. I think
you're both too young."
Harry had trouble maintaining eye contract, wanting to be anywhere but in that kitchen.
Lil sighed. "You didn't answer my question," she said softly. "Was Parvati your first?"
Harry closed his eyes and nodded morosely.
Lil responded with her own nod. "And you were her first?"
Harry again nodded.
Lil again nodded back. "You know, I didn't know what to expect before you arrived. I had read the
story in Teen Witch Weekly..."
Harry suddenly looked up with a frown.
"Yes, I know...it's mostly rubbish. But I do like to keep an eye on what my daughters are reading.
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As I was saying, I had read the story and others. And I was pleasantly surprised at how far from the
truth all those stories were. You seem like an honest, decent young man, not the arrogant teenager I
feared. And I flatter myself that, after raising four sons and being exposed to all their friends over
the years, I am a relatively good judge of character when it comes to young men."
Harry gave her an uncertain look.
Lil sighed again. "I also know how Parvati can be," she said wistfully. "She can be brash and
headstrong. So I understand that whatever you two are doing together most likely was at her
instigation as much as yours."
Harry gave an small shrug. He was beginning to feel that his life was no longer in immediate
danger, even if he still wanted desperately to escape.
Lil paused for a moment, then continued. "But I want you to know. Parvati may be headstrong and
willful. And she is the strongest of my daughters. But she is not made of steel. She is a vulnerable
fifteen-year-old girl."
Lil gave him a wan smile. "I just want you to know that I expect you to treat her with care and
decency. As I said, I know you have slept together. Don't expect me to pat you on the head over
that. I do not approve. I think you are much too young to have such an intense relationship. But I
also know that, with Parvati, short of locking her away here at Amritsar, I can only give advice, not
make demands. What I am saying is that I don't want to hear that you are taking advantage of her,
or hurting her."
Harry lowered his head. "I love her," he said quietly.
Lil closed her eyes. "I know, Harry. I can see it from the way you act around her."
Harry raised his eyes again to the woman, this time with a hint of both hope and vulnerability.
Lilac Patil paused and gave Harry an intense look. "I want to tell you something, something
important for you to know. I want you to promise that you will never breathe a word of this to
anyone, not even to Parvati. She knows the story, but I don't want it to get around that you know."
Harry nodded solemnly.
Lil lowered her eyes. "There's another reason why I am concerned about how intense your
relationship with Parvati has gotten," she said softly. "You see, Lakshmi was in the same position
ten years ago. She too fell in love with a strong, handsome young man, a classmate, at about the
same age as you two. Quite frankly, I was pleased by the match. Then, when they got into their
seventh years together, something happened. His family got involved, or at least some members of
his family did. They had someone else in mind for him and he didn't have it in him to resist them.
Their relationship ended badly because the boy, who was a lot like you in many ways, couldn't find
it in himself to follow his heart. I think she still has the scars. It's only recently that she seems to
have started coming back to life."
Harry sighed and looked down. "I wouldn't never do anything to hurt Parvati," he said in almost a
whisper.
"I believe you, Harry," she said in an equally quiet voice.
***
"Sirius, do you mind if we talk," Shane said quietly.
Sirius had been looking admiringly at Lakshmi, who had been so blushingly sweet that he felt like a
15-year-old again. He could not remember when he had talked as often, or as much, or about so
many things, with a woman as he had with Lakshmi over the past three days. Suddenly, the strong,
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frightening woman he had met a couple months ago had taken on a softer form.
He hadn't spent all his time with Lakshmi. He had spent a lot of time with Harry, reassuring him
and explaining, at least in a general manner, about his friendship with Shane and the fact that he had
met Lakshmi before. He had discussed the Knockturn Alley incident, and possible future
operations, with Shane. And he had been subjected to some oblique and puzzling conversations
with Sanjit and the other Patil sons. He even had a chance to visit Remus twice for an hour each
time.
He had been disturbed, however, about how Sanjit and three of the sons had pulled him and Harry
aside about their finances. First, he didn't know that it was their business and mentally kicked
himself for not cutting off discussion before it started. But he also realized that they were right. No
one was looking out for Harry's interests. And the Patils were merchants, and very prosperous ones,
who probably knew more about the world of Sickles and Galleons than he ever would.
Now he turned to Shane with a familiar shiver running down his spine. Seeing Shane with a serious
expression and not in disguise in a seedy bar in Knockturn Alley or the Rusty Bucket area in
Portsmouth brought back the fact that he was facing an Auror and a pretty tough one. And, after
dodging Aurors for over two years, the visceral cold feeling of facing one, even as a friend, had not
vanished.
Sirius nodded cautiously.
Shane laughed, which seemingly transformed his face from that of a spy and Auror to that of a film
star. "Don't worry. You're not under arrest. Not even by the family police," he said with a smile.
Sirius gave a forced smile and followed Shane past the drawing room to a door next to that of the
library where he and Harry had talked money. Shane motioned with a nod for Sirius to enter. As he
was about to step in, Shane grabbed his arm. "Don't be put out. My dad and uncle seen a few too
many Muggle gangster movies," he whispered with a chuckle.
Sirius entered a large, wood-paneled study, with leather chairs and couches and a large desk. The
room was lit low, with green-glass-shaded magical banker's lamps on the desk and end tables,
casting a murky light. Sirius looked around at several faces. There was the family patriarch Sanjit,
with his slicked back graying hair, and Hari, with his typical stoic expression. Hanuman was
looking, for once, serious in dress robes. Ganapathi was seated in the corner by a shrouded window,
playing idly with the tassels on the heavy velvet drapes. And Shane entered behind Sirius. But there
were two strangers in the room.
Sanjit stood and offered his hand, which Sirius shook solemnly, even though they had been chatting
amicably only an hour before. "Sirius, let me introduce my brother, Mandar, who is the co-owner of
Patil Imports, and his son and my nephew, Jayanti."
Sirius smiled at Mandar, who was very round and fighting a losing battle with his hairline and,
apparently, with hair-restoring potions, and had resorted to a terrible comb-over. Jayanti, on the
other hand, looked a lot like Ganapathi--light-haired and trim, but who had wide eyes that seemed
to take in everything around him.
"Mr. Black," Mandar said, holding out his hand for the obligatory handshake. Sirius shook and
turned to Jayanti. The young man's face split into a smile. "Awww, just call me Jay," he said,
ignoring the faces being made by his father and uncle.
Sanjit recovered his composure. Shane was right. He felt like he was trapped in some bad parody of
a Muggle gangster movie.
"Sit down, Mr. Black," Mandar said as he shifted his bulk on the couch. He gave Sirius a smile.
"Sirius, if I may?"
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Sirius nodded.
Mandar nodded in return. "Sirius, we've asked you here to meet us to ask you what your plans are,"
he intoned.
Sirius blinked. He was about to say: 'To have a good time,' but he decided kidding around with this
crew under these circumstances would not be appreciated. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"You got a job, or one lined up?" Jay offered.
Sirius's eyes widened. "Well, I've already been doing some lectures at the Auror College on escape
and evasion. Shane...Shanmukha knows about that," he said tentatively.
Mandar nodded. "But nothing permanent?"
Sirius flushed. He was living on a small pension of 100 Galleons a month from the ministry, which
hardly compensated him for the nearly 15 years of his life he lost after being wrongly convicted. He
lowered his head and shook it.
"Sirius, we've got a problem and perhaps you can help us," Shane offered.
Sirius looked up at the Auror with a puzzled expression. "Sure, I'll try. What is it?"
Sanjit cleared his throat. "It's a little bigger than getting your advice," he said sadly. "Look. We're
losing somewhere between 800 to 1,000 galleons a month, maybe more, in 'inventory shrinkage.'
That means we are getting robbed blind. Warehouse thefts, stevedores with sticky fingers,
shipments lost, simple misplacing or misdelivery of inventory, you name it. We need someone who
knows the streets to help us. Quite frankly, we're basically clerks and salesmen. And we've tried
retired Aurors--no offense, Shanmukha--but they are more schooled in the Dark Arts rather than the
dark side of human nature. On the other hand, you seem to be uniquely qualified to take over
security at Patil Imports."
Sirius leaned back in shock. "You're...you're offering me a job?"
Mandar leaned forward. "I hope you don't mind, but we've done a little investigating of your
background...as much as possible under the circumstances. You've been living underground for
over two years. You know the Knockturn Alleys of our world a lot better than you know the Diagon
Alleys. I understand you've also spent a lot of this time in the Muggle world and have a good handle
on how it works. And you're fundamentally honest, from everything I've heard. Those are all the
characteristics we would need as a head of security. Someone who can understand where the
problems are and how to attack them at their source."
Sirius's face clouded. "You want a night watchman?" he snorted. "Thanks but no thanks."
It was Sanjit's and Mandar's turns to blink in surprise. Their sons, on the other hand, started
laughing.
Hari slapped Sirius on the back. "If we needed another night watchman, we wouldn't be here. We'd
just send you around to the loading dock in Portsmouth to ask the warehouse manager. No, my
friend. We need someone to manage all our security operations. All the warehouses, the docks, the
interactions with Muggle and wizarding customs officials, our clients, whatever."
Sirius looked around at the group, who were looking at him in varying degrees of anticipation.
"Buy...why me? I can live on the streets, but I don't know anything about customs or..."
Shane leaned forward again. "You know how to work the system. We don't. And so you know how
the low-life wizards can work us. I may be the only one in this group who has any experience in
dealing with the streets, and I'm not sure I'm as qualified as you are. After all, I was part of the team
of Aurors who hunted you for over two years and I never got close enough to get a sniff," he said,
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laughing.
Mandar grumbled. "I started out in the warehouse. I know something about the streets."
At this point, the rest of the Patils began laughing. "Mandar, you started as a go-fer for
grandfather," Sanjit said, chuckling. "I did the same thing before you. And all I learned about the
streets back then is what you learned: That they're hard when you fall on them after too much
firewhiskey."
Mandar grumbled and sunk his chins against his chest.
Hari templed his fingers and looked at Sirius intently. "You are actually superbly qualified for what
we are looking for, Sirius. But you have one additional qualification that you might not like to hear
about."
For the first time, Sirius felt he was hearing from someone willing to be square, not elliptical, with
him. "What is that, Hari?" he said seriously.
Hari took a deep breath. "There are a lot of people who don't believe the Ministry about you. They
believe they were lied to about Voldemort. And now they believe they were lied to about you.
There are a lot of people out there who believe you are truly a vicious killer and got your sentence
overturned in gratitude for your fighting against Voldemort or though some back-room deal."
Sirius began to bristle, but suddenly calmed. Hari was right. He had seen it nearly every time he
went out. Normal decent wizards and witches tended to avoid him. And a few lowlifes kept asking
him how it felt to be a killer. He closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm innocent. I know everyone in
Azkaban says they are innocent, but in my case, it's true. Believe me if you will. I don't care."
Shane leaned forward this time. "We believe you. I was there when Peter Pettigrew confessed. I'm
one of three Aurors who were there and recorded his entire, rambling confession on our wands, as
did several members of the hospital staff. For what it's worth, he cried over your incarceration and
said he welcomed death or the dementor's kiss after what he did to you and the Potters."
Sirius lowered his head, tears suddenly forming.
Mandar shifted uncomfortably again, but the rest of the Patils waited silently, with Shane patting
Sirius on the shoulder.
Finally, Sirius rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked up with a renewed gravity. "So
what does the public's belief about my past have to do with my qualifications?"
Shane leaned back. "Patil Imports is a soft target. A lot of the wizarding world, especially in the
underworld, looks at us as a wog enterprise, a bunch of foreigners who are afraid to invoke the
authorities, even though we've been in business for nearly 250 years. They think we're afraid of
them."
Mandar again shifted.
It was Hari who now took the floor. "You have been the most notorious criminal, outside of YouKnow-Who, in both the Muggle and wizarding worlds, in decades. An escaped mass murderer. If
we let it be known that anyone who messes with the Patils will have to answer to Sirius Black, a lot
of the underworld will think twice."
Sirius gave a barking laugh. "Me?" he said sarcastically.
Shane leaned forward. "Yes, you. And you know it. We know better. But think of how you've been
received by the wizarding world. You know your reputation better than anyone because you face it
every day."
Sirius looked sharply at Shane. But he saw that the Auror was right. He closed his eyes and took a
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deep breath. "Okay. And what does this job pay?"
Sanjit cleared his throat. "Well, we'll start you out at 250 a month. After three months, if things
work out, 350 a month. Eventually, 500 a month is not beyond the realm of possibility. We'll go
from there."
Sirius's eyes bulged. That was nearly twice as much to start than Remus was making with his
literary rag. And 500 a month was more than he ever thought he would make when he was in
Hogwarts. "You are talking galleons, aren't you?"
Jay burst into laughter. "No, knuts," he gasped out.
Shane screwed up his face. "Three hundred fifty is more than I make as a Senior Auror with nine
years on the job," he grumped.
Hari started laughing now. "But that's not including your cut of the firm profits. You're probably the
richest Auror on the force, except for that dilettante Jack Brown."
Shane gave Hari a nasty look. "Jack Brown is a good man, even if he is a Yorkshire Brown."
The group burst into laughter.
Sirius looked down. "I'll need some time to learn the ropes, my responsibilities and duties."
Sanjit rocked back in his swivel chair and nodded. "You'll be working for Mandar and me, but
Lakshmi will work with you on your day-to-day duties. She'll show you the ropes. She knows more
about government regulations, customs duties and rules, and tariffs than the rest of us combined."
Sirius mulled over the proposition. It sounded too good to be true. But, what the hell. It wasn't as if
he was getting offers like this every day. He looked up. "I'll give it a go."
Mandar let out his breath. "Grand, grand," he said with a broad smile.
Shane slapped him on the back and Jay and Hari shook his hand.
Sanjit looked at Sirius with a smile. "We would prefer if you live in the Portsmouth area. You will
probably find it more convenient as your hours will tend to be somewhat irregular. We do have
company apartments in Portsmouth proper and you can stay there as long as you would like. But I
do suppose you'll eventually want to find your own place. The apartments are nice, but not
luxurious, as I'm sure Shanmukha can attest," he said, frowning at Shane
Shane blushed furiously. "Hey, it was only for a few days and Janine and I worked out our
differences," he said sulkily. "You'd think I was an axe murderer," he muttered out of the side of his
mouth to Sirius and Hari.
Mandar reached back and flipped open the sideboard behind him. "This calls for a little firewhiskey,
if you ask me," he said jovially.
Jay and Shane rolled their eyes, but everyone eagerly grabbed for glasses to toast the new vice
president of security at Patil Imports.
***
Harry, Parvati and Padma were huddled with Lakshmi, debating Harry's contribution to the
evening's meal. "Quite frankly, I thought the meal was pretty good, Parvati. I don't know why you
won't admit it," Lakshmi said with a smile.
Parvati rolled her eyes. "Pretty good for a house elf. Lots of basic food basically cooked. No
subtlety. No flare. Just chow." Harry sunk in his chair, pouting.
Padma was rolling with laughter. "Parvati, you should be happy that Harry knows his way around
the kitchen. With mummy's help, he could be a great cook. Maybe better than you. And almost as
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good as me," she said with a chuckle, as Parvati gave her a playful swat. "Terry probably thinks that
you put your plate on the table and a meal automatically appears every time," she said, still
giggling.
Now it was Parvati's turn to roll her eyes. "When are you going to wise up to that blockhead. I'm
sure there are plenty of nice guys available."
Harry guffawed. "Yeah. I hear Professor Snape is available."
Lakshmi shrieked in laughter. "That old heartbreaker hasn't been snapped up yet?"
Padma stuck her tongue out at Harry and leaned back, pouting. "Terry is all right once you can get
him in a one-to-one conversation. It's when he's with a crowd that he starts rambling."
Parvati laughed. "Most of those good one-to-one conversations must be when he's alone because
half the time I talk to him, I don't know what he's talking about and the other half of the time, I don't
care. I heard he argues with himself and loses every argument," she said giggling.
Sirius suddenly entered the room. "Well, if it isn't my three favorite Patil sisters. Oh, and you're
here, Harry. I didn't notice," he said with a grin.
Lakshmi gave him a speculative look.
Sirius flopped down in an armchair across from the couch where Padma and Lakshmi were sitting
and next to the love seat containing Harry and Parvati, who were characteristically leaning against
each other.
"Where'd you disappear to, Sirius?" Harry asked.
Lakshmi looked down. "In there with the brain trust, weren't you?" she said quietly.
Sirius, still relatively alert despite three shots of firewhiskey, gave Lakshmi an appraising glance.
He nodded. "I met your uncle Mandar and cousin Jay. They seemed all right," he said, suddenly
quiet. "Why weren't you in there?"
Lakshmi raised her eyes and gave a small snort. "Oh, they didn't need a girl interfering with their
big deals," she said bitterly. "After all, what do I know? It was only my idea, based on my data as
applied to my business plan. Did you accept?"
Harry, Parvati and Padma looked back and forth between Sirius and Lakshmi. "Accept what?"
Parvati asked with concern.
Sirius turned to Harry. "Looks like I'll be moving out of Hogsmeade, Harry."
Harry started. "Really? Why?"
"Because I'll be working down here. I'm the new chief of security for Patil Imports."
Lakshmi gave Sirius a small smile and nodded. "Good. Now maybe someone else will know what's
going on there."
Parvati took a swipe at Lakshmi. "Come on, Shi-Shi. Dad knows what he's doing. And Hari's smart.
And Jay shows real promise."
Lakshmi shook her head. "Dad is a top notch salesman, and is a great strategic planner. But he
doesn't take any interest in the day-to-day operations. And you know Hari isn't a detail person. Jay
and I pretty much run the operation and, quite frankly, Jay is too inexperienced for the job. So I've
got to make all the operational decisions and then Jay and I pass them up to dad."
"What about your uncle?" Sirius asked.
Lakshmi frowned. "Look, he's a good salesman. But in recent years, he's basically spent his time
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wining and dining old customers and hasn't really gotten out there looking for new ones. And that's
how you keep a business vital."
Sirius frowned. "How's the company doing?"
Lakshmi shrugged. "It's doing well. It just keeps rolling. But it could do a whole lot better if we had
some support, if I didn't have to run to dad before implementing any changes. Honestly, there hasn't
been any real leadership in this firm since great-grandfather Harshad."
Sirius nodded. "And you can't provide that leadership?"
Lakshmi closed her eyes. "It's a male-dominated operation. Throughout the years, the Patil boys
took over the firm and the Patil girls got married. I guess they expect that to continue."
Sirius was watching Lakshmi closely. He understood her frustration. It wasn't fair. And no one
could recognize and empathize with those treated unfairly more than Sirius.
"Lakshmi. Your father said that you would show me the ropes. Want to take a walk and tell me
about the job? It's your idea, after all, right?"
Lakshmi suddenly blushed. "Well...okay. Just let me get my cloak. We can walk around the
grounds."
As the couple left the room, Parvati and Padma exchanged glances and smiled. Harry turned and
saw the silent communication and was puzzled. "All right. No telepathy allowed. What's going on?"
Parvati turned to Harry and grabbed his forearm. "She likes him," she whispered urgently.
Harry blinked. "Sirius?"
Parvati and Padma both rolled their eyes. Harry leaned back on the loveseat in a pout. "A double
Patil roll. They should make that a Wizarding Olympics event."
The twins' eyes lit up. "Come on. Up to the bedroom. We can get a good view from there," Padma
said enthusiastically. She turned to Harry. "Come on, Harry," she said with glittering eyes.
Harry looked back and forth between the twins in confusion when Parvati grabbed his arm. "Come
on. We don't want to miss anything."
Suddenly, Harry felt himself being pulled upstairs by two sets of eager hands.
Harry had been in the twins bedroom briefly once when he first arrived. It was, in a word, 'girly.'
The room was a study in pastels, from powder blue to pink. Padma's side had a few more books,
although Parvati was no slouch on her side, and Parvati's side had a few more pictures, including a
framed cover of Witch Weekly where she and Harry appeared in a Colin Creevey glamour shot.
And in between the two full-sized beds was a large, bay window. The twins blew out the candle on
the nightstand between their beds and removed it so they could huddle in the window. "Come on,
Harry," Parvati whispered, and pulled him in between the two girls. Harry felt a little light-headed
as two of the prettiest girls he knew leaned up over his shoulders and pressed down to get a closer
look.
It was then that Harry noticed Lakshmi and Sirius down on the flagstone patio. He could tell that
there was a substantial warming charm at work down there as what little snow that was on the
ground was completely absent on a broad semicircle. He could see Sirius on a wooden bench next
to Lakshmi, facing her and gesticulating while she faced him with wide eyes.
Sirius's animated conversation went on for a while, with Lakshmi seeming to inject a question here
or there. Suddenly, he felt Parvati on his right nuzzling his neck and giving him silent kisses as she
bent farther over his shoulder.
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Harry suddenly smiled mischievously. "Padma," he whispered. "Not here. Parvati might find out."
He suddenly felt Padma on his left straighten up. "What?"
And Parvati on his right suddenly dug her knuckle into his ticklish spot on his right. He collapsed in
giggles, as Padma suddenly gave him a poke on the left side. The three wrestled for a minute or so
until he finally cried uncle.
Parvati looked up at her twin, breathing heavily. "Padma," she whispered. "You keep watch. I've
got to teach this boy a lesson."
Padma giggled and nodded, climbing back up on the nightstand.
Harry got up and brushed off his slacks. "Oh, and Padma. If Parvati gets tired, she'll come back and
you can take over," he said with a laugh.
Parvati rammed into him, knocking him on the bed and jumping on top of him. "I'll wear you out
first," she whispered evilly and gave him a deep kiss.
Harry and Parvati were necking for several minutes when Padma hissed. "He's up on his feet and
waving like a wild man."
Harry and Parvati reluctantly disengaged and scrambled back to the window. Sirius had his hands
on his hips and was talking to Lakshmi, who was giving him a skeptical look. Suddenly, Sirius
transformed himself into Padfoot and Padma gasped, as, apparently did Lakshmi. Harry chuckled,
as did Parvati, now lying atop Harry's back to see out the window, who been told about Sirius'
secret talent from Harry.
Just as suddenly, Lakshmi stood up and disappeared. In her place was a black Labrador retriever.
Harry jumped, nearly knocking Parvati off his back. "She's an animagus?"
Padma looked at Harry, puzzled. "Sure. I was surprised that Sirius was, though."
Harry could feel Parvati's body quiver as she started chuckling. "It's a dog's life, isn't it," she said
happily.
Suddenly, Sirius and Lakshmi transformed back and both were apparently laughing uproariously.
The trio in the window watched as Lakshmi's face lit up and her eyes were glittering to the point
where all three noticed.
Next thing they knew, Sirius was seated with his arm around Lakshmi as they continued to talk.
And by now, it was apparent that Lakshmi was more than holding her own in the conversation.
Suddenly, Harry could feel Parvati's arms around his neck as she relaxed into him, watching the
scene below. And Padma had just as suddenly taken his hand as the two sisters took turns sighing.
Harry felt wonderful, feeling the two sisters pressing against him. But he felt even more wonderful,
watching his godfather finally connect with someone new. Lakshmi may not be as pretty or trim as
Padma or Parvati, but he had found her to be smart and sweet and caring.
Then he felt Parvati's grip around his neck tightening, just as Padma's grip on his left hand
tightened. He looked down at the patio as the couple down there slowly leaned toward each other
and gently kissed. This time, all three of them at the window sighed.
Then Harry felt the weight bearing down on him increase. Parvati squeaked in protest and Padma
turned to give her brother a smack on the shoulder.
"All right, you three," Shane said with a smile. "Is this a private orgy or is everyone invited?" he
said, leaning over to look out the window. He suddenly started to chuckle. "Oh, dear. Oh, dear.
Could that be Lakshmi I see?"
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By this time, Sirius and Lakshmi were leaning back on the bench, Sirius with his arm around her
shoulder looking shell-shocked and Lakshmi leaning up against him with a startled look on her
face.
Shane reached around Parvati and gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze. "Potter, what kind of havoc
have you wrought on this house," he said with a chuckle.
"Shane?" came a voice from the doorway.
Shane turned with a smile to face his wife Janine. He waved her over and pointed out the window.
"Awwwww," Janine said, sighing. Then she turned to Shane with a smile. "Love's finally found our
little Shi-Shi."
The girls all started giggling and Harry reluctantly felt the weight released from his back. Padma
and Parvati embraced, as did Shane and Janine. Harry smiled broadly and took one last peek out to
the patio to see Sirius and Lakshmi embrace and kiss again and then walk hand-in-hand inside.
With all that had happened that day, it would be a Christmas Eve he would never forget.
***
Draco,
We expect you to deliver our young friend. Do not harm him. Others will know how to handle him.
Now is the time, now that you are alone, to do some reconnaissance. Any information will be
welcome.
We expect you to listen to your two favorite housemates and heed their advice.
All rewards you earn will await you. And I will do what I can to shield you from any punishments
for your failures.
L.
"And a Happy Christmas to you, too, father," Draco muttered bitterly. He incinerated the letter and
reached for the first of Aunt Carmina's and Uncle Bill's presents.
***
"Mr. Malfoy, sit down."
Draco eyed his head of house warily. He actually liked Severus Snape. The Potions Master was one
of the few professors, one of the few people, that Draco knew who didn't accept all the surface flash
and bravado of the Gryffindors, the smug arrogance of the Ravenclaws, and the dim fuzziness of the
Hufflepuffs.
No, Professor Snape, like no one else, could cut to the heart of each house, shaking the
sentimentality and reputation surrounding each until all that was left was their core, the trunk and
roots of the underlying tree. And when all that surface was stripped away, it was the Slytherins who
showed themselves as the strongest, the purest, the best representatives of what it meant to be a
wizard or witch.
But Draco also knew that being called into Professor Snape's private office did not bode well for a
student. For general comments or guidance, Snape would simply appear in the House common
room and deliver it. But an invitation into the Sanctum Sanctorum meant a confrontation, an
inquisition by the Head of House.
Draco Malfoy slowly sat down across from Professor Snape. "Mr. Malfoy. I know this is probably
not the best of times for this little discussion, but I have been ... indisposed for the past couple days.
And I do believe that it is necessary for you to hear this as early in your holiday as possible so you
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may get a desperately needed head start for the next term."
Draco looked at the Potions Master with narrowed eyes and nodded for him to continue.
Snape templed his fingers under his nose and stared at his favorite pupil for a few moments,
watching him begin to squirm. He cleared his throat and began. "First off, your academic
performance during this term has been appalling. I will grant that it is, in large part, understandable,
given the difficulties you have encountered--the loss of your mother, your father's current status, the
loss of your companions, Misters Crabbe and Goyle, and your unfortunate encounter with the ...
Golem."
Snape took a deep breath through his large nose and continued. "All these would mitigate your
performance had you been made of lesser stuff. And, as such, I have taken your circumstances into
account in your grading, as I have been forced to do with that ... Hufflepuff, Mister Hopkins," he
said as if he had uttered something distasteful. "I have spoken to some of your other teachers and
they too are taking your difficulties into account, including Professors Flitwick, Sprout and ..." he
took a deep breath, "... McGonagall. However, I will not pass a student who I do not believe has
earned it. You have managed to earn it this term...barely. But if you continue on your downward
spiral, you shall be in grave jeopardy when the O.W.L. examinations are presented."
Malfoy looked away, trying to remain calm and composed.
Snape looked down his nose at Draco. "In case you are interested, you ranked below Miss Granger
in Potions."
Draco scowled.
"And Mister Potter."
Draco blinked.
"And the two Miss Patils."
Draco was now staring at the Potions Master.
If anything, Snape was looking down his nose with even more disdain. "In fact, you ranked No. 14
in my class for this term. And that was giving you due consideration for your circumstances.
Otherwise, you might have been in danger of entering Longbottom territory."
Draco's face turned dark. Suddenly, Snape slammed his hand down on the desk, causing Malfoy to
jump.
"Did you know there were no Slytherins in the Top Five of Potions this term!" Snape shouted. "No
Slytherins! Even Miss Zabini could only muster seventh! But there were three Gryffindors and two
Ravenclaws! Do you know what that looks like?! Do you know how humiliating that is!!!"
Malfoy recoiled angrily. "So fix it!"
Snape's hand shot out to strike the boy but held back at the last moment. "You know I will do
everything I can to advance our House. But I will not stoop to the level of a cheat," he hissed with
pure venom. "I am supposed to be preparing you for whatever comes. And you...are refusing...to
be...prepared!" he growled angrily. "This will not continue," he said in a menacing tone.
"What more can you do to me?" Malfoy snarled.
Snape leaned forward, staring intently at Draco. "I can start making a man of you," he snapped.
Draco gave his Head of House a sullen stare.
"First, no more moping around like some weepy, heartbroken young girl. You will study. You will
do your assignments. You will come to class on time and prepared. And not just Potions. I have
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talked to a couple of your teachers and they have promised to tell me if they see you slacking."
Draco frowned. "Who?"
Snape snorted. "I shouldn't tell you. But I will. McGonagall and Flitwick. Moody will tell me
whether I ask or not."
The frown on Draco's face fell even farther.
"And you will began again to assist your Slytherin classmates. Mister Blythe is keeping up. I am not
so sure about Mister Greinglass and Miss Davis."
Draco made a face, only to jump again as Snape again slapped the table.
"You have the potential to be a leader. Not because of your name, but because you have the
intelligence, the drive, the shrewdness to lead."
Draco raised his eyes in an uncertain curiosity to meet Snape's.
Snape eyed his student. "You've spent too much time relying on your father and your family name.
It's about time you started relying on yourself. During your father's current difficulties, it's all you
have. But I think it will be enough."
Slowly, the life in Draco's eyes began to return. He looked away as if in thought. "I guess."
Snape lowered his head as he continued to stare at the boy. "Don't guess! Know!"
Draco slowly nodded his head.
Snape sighed. "Speaking of your father, I am sure you are on his mind and in his heart today," he
said in an uncharacteristically soft tone.
Draco's head jerked up as he looked at Snape to see if there was any sarcasm or irony in the last
comment. There didn't appear to be.
Snape then frowned. "Possibly you've heard that there has been a sudden upsurge in clubs and
extracurricular activities among the younger students. Defense practice and such."
Draco shrugged. He was aware that the younger students in the House would disappear at times, but
he hadn't give it much thought during his recent funk.
Snape shook his head. "A true Slytherin places no value on such 'group gropes'," Snape said with a
sneer. "It is best to work alone to achieve for one's self, or to work with one's close colleagues for
the good of the House. As such, I thought you might benefit from these."
Snape slowly reached into his desk and pulled out three volumes tied together in a green and silver
ribbon.
Draco peered at them. The Art of the Duel in Three Volumes by D.N. Crump. Volume One: Offense.
Volume Two: Defense. Volume Three: Knowing Your Opponent. Draco stared at the books. They
were rare and valuable. And they contained enough dark magic to put them in the highest level of
the library's restricted section. There was a set in his father's library, but Lucius never let him touch
the well-worn tomes. They were too rare for a child.
Draco looked up at his Head of House. "I can really borrow these?" he asked with a new sense of
enthusiasm.
Snape bowed his head. "No, Mister Malfoy. You can keep them."
Draco looked up at his professor in surprise, then down at the books, then back at Snape. "I...I..."
The ancient clock in Snape's office struck midnight.
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Snape nodded again. "Happy Christmas, Draco."
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CHAPTER 18 HOME
***
Christmas dawned clear and cold around Amritsar. Harry awoke early to hear people scurrying
around downstairs. He pulled the thick comforter around his chin and stretched comfortably under
the covers. Then he came awake with a start, running everything that had happened yesterday
through his mind. Riding with Parvati. The 'talk' with Mrs. Patil. The discussion of his--and
Sirius's--finances. Sirius taking a job with the Patils. Then seeing Sirius and Lakshmi kissing.
Last night, he thought he would never get to sleep. The amount of giggling from down the hall
coming from Parvati's and Padma's bedroom didn't help either. But sleep he did. Now, he sighed
and smiled to himself. He had survived his visit with the Patils so far. And this afternoon he would
see Tony and Mae for the first time in four months. He was excited and ...
His thoughts were cut short as Parvati and Padma, in their dressing gowns and matched sets of
bunny slippers, came running into his room and leapt onto his bed. "Wake up sleepyhead!" Parvati
shouted. "It's Christmas!"
***
It took Harry less than ten minutes to wash up, change and retrieve his bag of presents for the Patil
family. As he raced down the stairs, he almost ran into Sirius, who looked as nervous coming down
to face the Patil family as Harry had felt when he first arrived at Amritsar. Harry simply grinned at
his Godfather, who grunted a barely audible greeting before squaring his shoulders and begin
walking gingerly down the stairs. Harry chuckled as he followed, only to have Sirius turn and
scowl. Harry simply laughed and jostled his Godfather out of the way and bounded down the stairs.
Harry again was amazed at the Christmas tree. It was nearly 20 feet tall, seemed to be growing out
of the floor, and was fully decorated, a task that the whole family took part in completing three days
ago amid much laughter and playful arguing. And beneath the tree was an amazing mound of
presents. He took a deep breath and placed his gifts among the gaily wrapped packages.
He looked around to see various Patils talking and laughing. Suddenly, a warm pair of arms
wrapped around him. He leaned back, his heart swelling at the feeling of truly being a part of a
family Christmas. "I love you," he whispered softly.
Suddenly, he heard a giggle from behind him, then a squeal coming from the entrance to the
kitchen. "Padma! Get your hands off of him!" Parvati shouted. Harry turned to discover Seamus's
warning on the Hogwarts Express had come to pass: It was Padma, who now was laughing,
playfully embracing him.
"Not bad, Harry," Padma said as Parvati pushed her roughly away. "Better keep an eye on him,
PeeVee, or I'll take him off your hands."
"Oh, shut up PeeDee," Parvati said with a pout as she grabbed a blushing Harry in a bone-crushing
hug. "Happy Christmas, Harry," she said, giving him a quick, warm kiss.
Harry managed to recover his composure as various members of the family laughed at his
confusion. He definitely could get used to this. And he gave an inward chuckle at the twins' pet
nicknames for each other, which he had never heard at Hogwarts--PeeDee and PeeVee. He'd have
to remember that.
Harry smiled at how animated everyone was as he glanced around the room. Then he spotted an
unfamiliar face, an ancient woman wrapped in a shawl sitting by the fire. He gave a questioning
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look to Parvati, who smiled and led him over.
"Grandma? I'd like you to meet my beau, Harry Potter. Harry, this is my dad's mother."
The woman, who looked like she had been tall once but who now seemed to be thin and bent,
looked up in surprise. "Potter? Henry Potter?"
Parvati smiled indulgently. "No, Grandma. Henry was Harry's great-grandfather. This is Harry, my
boyfriend."
The woman's eyes seemed to light up. "You're marrying a Potter? Harry is it?" Suddenly, her
expression changed to one at once more serious and aware. She nodded sagely. "Good people, the
Potters."
Parvati's grandmother then squinted up at Harry. "Always liked Henry. Cut quite a dashing figure in
my time. You look a bit like him."
Harry was torn between discomfort and curiosity about his family. "You knew my greatgrandfather?" he said softly.
The woman eyed him. "I did indeed. We went to Hogwarts together in the 1920s, before the
troubles. Mischievous devil he was. And quite the ladies' man." The old woman seemed to become
more focused as she gave him a careful look. "Yes, you do look a bit like him, you know. Same
black hair that wouldn't stay put, no matter how much he oiled it. Finally gave up as the styles
changed. Hair sprouted every which way." She suddenly reached out and grasped his upper arm.
"Thin, you are. Thinner than Henry. The eyes are different, too. His were brown. Nice-looking boy.
But a better looking man."
Harry had by now sat down, wide-eyed, on the ottoman next to the old woman. "What was he like?"
The old woman blinked. "Now where are my manners? I am Iris Patil. Formerly Iris Brown. One of
the Southern Browns. Not like those snooty Northern Browns." She reached out a dry, weathered
hand, which Harry took gingerly.
Iris Brown Patil smiled at Harry. "As I said, he was a devil in school. Never thought he had it in
him."
Harry blinked. "Had what?"
Iris sighed. "You never heard about when the troubles came?"
Harry shook his head.
Iris looked away off into space. "Grindelwald," she intoned quietly.
Harry nodded, wishing for her to continue. "What about Grindelwald?" he said softly.
Iris sighed. "It was a bad time," she said in a faraway voice. "He came along, spouting his
pureblood nonsense. Attracting all sorts of riffraff." Iris pursed her lips and sighed. "I was married
by that time. We were all terrified. He didn't like us. Immigrants...wogs, he called us. I was a blood
traitor for marrying into a nonpure family."
Iris was now frowning in concentration. She then slowly shook her head. "The Browns, my own
kin, sat on the fence. Thought that they could ride out the troubles by keeping to themselves, relying
on their wealth to protect them, like they always did before. Then Henry, a young pup with a new
bride and a child, stood up for us, stood up to Grindelwald. Helped rally the clans."
Iris's train of thought seemed to wander a moment before turning back to Harry. "Finally, my
family, my clan, became a true family again. It was a long, drawn out war, the troubles were. But
we stood fast together. The Browns, the Boneses, the Weasleys, the Adairs. And the families, the
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Potters, the Prewetts, the McKinnons, the Abbotts. And the immigrants, the Patils, the Zabinis, the
Johnsons." Iris took a deep, wracking breath. "So much tragedy. So many died," she whispered
absently.
Suddenly, her focus returned and she turned to look into Harry's eyes. "We kept Grindelwald from
taking over. And Henry was one of the leaders. Helped save the Browns from an attack when
Grindelwald hit the clans in 1943. They say it was a curse Henry got hit with in that attack that led
to his early death. Then old Albus finally got Grindelwald in 1945. And it was all over. But we
Browns will never forget young Henry for what he did for us."
Harry stared wide-eyed at the ancient figure in front of him. "I never heard any of this," he
whispered.
Iris turned to give him a puzzled look. "Your kin never told you any of this?"
Parvati reached out to place her hand on Iris's arm. "Harry's parents were killed when he was small,
granny. He was raised by Muggle relatives. Don't you remember? Harry's 'The Boy Who Lived',"
she said softly.
Iris gave a startled look. "My word, so you are," she exclaimed. "I swear, I don't know where my
mind is half the time," she said absently as she reached out to give Harry's hand a squeeze. "Thank
you, young man. I am happy to see you as part of our family."
Parvati slowly managed to edge Harry away from Iris and toward the tree. "She is so sweet," she
whispered. "But she tends to lose focus unless she's talking about something specific from her past."
Harry was puzzled. "How old is she?" he asked quietly.
Parvati shrugged. "She's 91."
Harry frowned. "She's your grandma, but she's as old as my great-grandfather?" he asked in a
puzzled voice.
A cloud momentarily passed over Parvati's face. "Shhhh. I'll explain it to you sometime. But come
on," she said, brightening. "It's Christmas!"
Harry was still lost in thought when he was handed a small plate of fruit by Shane's wife Janine.
"Eat up," she said. "A light breakfast so there's room for a big lunch. We have to open the presents,"
she whispered with a twinkle in her eye.
The uproar in the large room had reached a peak when Lil Patil suddenly stood up and merrily
shouted everyone down. "Happy Christmas, everyone!" she exclaimed. "It's time!"
Pandemonium broke out as the adult Patil children dove like eight-year-olds into the pile of
presents, tossing them back a forth to their intended recipients. Harry had to laugh as Shane and
Janine's young ones, Chandar and Audra, seemed to treat the pile of presents as their own personal
mosh pit, squealing and rolling around on top to find their own gifts.
Harry was immensely pleased at the Patils' reactions to his own gifts, mostly small, personal
presents suggested by Parvati, such as the self-stirring balloon whisks for Lil and the Muggle
mystery and spy novels so beloved by Sanjit, Hari and Shane. He even got a hug and a kiss from
Padma, who seemed to like his gift of a small bottle of her favorite perfume over that of the spell
book she received by owl from her boyfriend, Terry Boot.
And he was equally excited by his own gifts, especially the Auror manual he received from Shane.
And he had to smile at the heeled paddock boots from Sanjit, obviously at Parvati's urging. But he
had to gasp in delight at the elegant, engraved wristwatch Parvati gave him to replace the watch he
broke during the previous year. He was touched by the engraving: 'PP to HP, Always Yours.'
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Finally, Sirius walked up to Harry and handed him a large bag. Sirius looked troubled as he leaned
forward. "These belonged to my brother, Regulus," he whispered in a sad voice. "He was a bit
smaller than I was. So they should fit you."
Harry blinked and looked into the bag. Inside were dragonhide boots, trousers and a vest, along
with a dragonhide wand holster. He was overwhelmed. Then he looked up at his Godfather and
realized how pained the man looked. "Thank you, Sirius," he said quietly, as he pulled the man into
a warm hug.
Sirius sighed. "I wish we could have been closer. He was family, my brother. I thought I could save
him before..." Then Sirius simply stopped. He looked down at Harry and his smile gradually
warmed. "Happy Christmas, you young sprout."
When the carnage ended and wrapping paper was strewn all over the large room, Harry looked up
from his chair to see Parvati standing above him, her hands on her hips, pouting. "Well, nothing for
me?" she said with a skeptical frown.
Harry gave her an anxious look. "Well, I wanted to save this for last. I hope you like it."
He slowly reached into his robe and withdrew a small package, handing it to her.
Parvati stepped back to unwrap it as the family looked on in anticipation.
As she took the chain out to see the intertwined hearts, she gasped and looked at him with wide
eyes. Suddenly, she launched herself at him, squealing in delight and bowling him over in the most
intense hug he'd ever received. "I love you!" she managed to gasp out. Harry managed to recover
from her onslaught, giving a goofy grin.
But as he looked around the room, he could see several of the Patil men blanching or rolling their
eyes, while the girls seemed to sigh. Mr. Patil seemed to be frowning thoughtfully, while Mrs. Patil
gave him a warm, if speculative, smile. Finally, his eyes turned to Sirius, who seemed disconcerted.
Harry managed to disengage himself enough from Parvati's attentions enough for her to insist they
both grab the intertwined hearts and kiss before he was finally able to put it on her. He listened idly
as the girls in the family, along with Uncle Mandar, Aunt Lali, and cousin Jay--who had showed up
after the gifts had been distributed, gathered around to admire Parvati's necklace.
Lakshmi peered closely at the intertwined hearts. "I've never seen one with stones, rather than
initials or names. That's a ruby, but the other can't be an emerald. Too dark."
Padma frowned. "It's not jade."
Mrs. Patil frowned. "Peridot," she said finally.
Harry blinked and shrugged. "It sort of matches my eyes," he said absently.
Several members of the family looked up and then back to the stone, nodding. Harry had bright
green eyes, perhaps not as crystalline bright as an emerald, nor as deep as a peridot, but somewhere
in between.
"Ruby is my favorite gem," Parvati announced.
Mandar frowned. "Birthstones?"
Padma turned and frowned. "But our birthstone is sardonyx," she said, making a face over the
traditional August birthstone, the common, milky white mineral generally used in making cameos.
Mandar cleared his throat. "Well, peridot is often thought of as the modern birthstone for August
among the Muggles and some members of the wizarding world...mostly among the jewelers," he
said with a snort. "Anything for a little extra expense."
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Parvati returned the snort. "No. The ruby is me, the peridot is Harry. It matches his eyes. Anyone
can see that."
Harry simply smiled, enjoying the attention he was getting among the girls in the Patil family over
his gift. 'At last, I finally got something right,' he thought.
It was only a few minutes later, when several of the girls retired to the kitchen to chat and help Mrs.
Patil begin to prepare the formal Christmas luncheon feast, that Sirius pulled Harry aside.
Harry's smile faded when he saw his Godfather's exasperated look. "What?" he asked anxiously.
Sirius smiled and shook his head. "Harry, do you know what that necklace is?"
Harry shrugged with a worried look. "It's just like one I saw on a Muggle girl I know. I thought it
was nice."
Sirius chuckled and shook his head sadly. "Oh, Harry. You don't know what you've gotten yourself
into."
Harry froze. What had he done? He gave Sirius a fearful look.
Sirius began to laugh softly. "Harry, that's a Fidelity necklace. You see those two hearts? They
magically get closer whenever your relationship with Parvati is strong. Like right now, they are
practically on top of one another."
Harry shrugged nervously. "So?"
Sirius sighed. "But if you do anything that would harm your relationship with her, the hearts will
start moving away from each other. And if you ever did anything that would break her heart, or if
she ever did anything that would break your heart, the hearts will break apart, pulling apart the heart
on the chain of the person whose heart was broken...even if she would never have found out about it
otherwise."
Harry's eyes fluttered in consternation. "What does that mean?"
Sirius sighed. "That means if you are ever untrue to her, or hurt her, she'll know it, no matter how
hard you try to hide it."
Harry frowned in concentration. Then he looked up at his Godfather. "I told her mum yesterday that
I love Parvati, and that I'd never do anything to hurt her," he said with more firmness than he felt.
Sirius nodded. "I know, Harry. But you're fifteen years old. A lot can happen before you are ready
to make that kind of commitment," he said, shaking his head with a crooked smile. "After all, I
made it a goal to have fun with as many girls as possible before I got out of Hogwarts. And I
probably would have gone through at least a dozen of those necklaces," he said with a chuckle.
Harry sighed. "I liked it," he said quietly.
Suddenly, Sirius reached out and mussed Harry's hair. "Not to mention the pressure you've put on
all the guys around. Every girl who sees that on Parvati will want one, too. I wouldn't want to be in
Shane's shoes right about now," he said with a wry chuckle.
"Or yours, Sirius Black," Lakshmi said with a knowing smile from over his shoulder.
Sirius rolled his eyes and turned back to Harry and, with a mock frown, gave him a playful punch.
"See what you've started, Potter?"
***
The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of activity, as presents were arranged and lunch was
prepared. Only Harry and Shane among the men were allowed in the kitchen as the women went to
work on an elaborate Christmas feast.
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Harry was thoroughly enjoying the bustle when, on returning to the kitchen to help deliver another
platter of food to the table, Hanuman stepped in his path. Harry still didn't know what to make of
this 27-year-old man who seemed to make such adolescent sport of teasing and annoying everyone.
The Monkey Man suddenly crossed arms and shook his head. "I don't know if you are being smart,
or being just too dumb to be believed with that necklace," he said solemnly. Suddenly, his face
broke out into a grin. "But it was worth it to see the looks on the faces of Shane and Hari when they
saw your gift to our little PeeVee," he said with a chuckle. "I think if you ever do decide to join this
family, you and I can have some fun with them."
Monkey suddenly threw his arm over Harry's shoulder and led him over to the fireplace to join the
rest of the men.
***
The Christmas feast was spectacular. And, as a final grace note, twelve owls flew in at one o'clock
to settle three large, fragrant boxes on the table. Lil and Sanjit Patil gasped as they opened them.
There were three huge pies--mince, plum and apple--to serve as dessert.
It was Harry's final gift to the family, one he had arranged for at Simple Simon's the day he had
bought Parvati's necklace.
Mrs. Patil turned to Harry, her eyes alight. "Simple Simon's? Oh, how I miss their pies from when
we were at Hogwarts. Oh, Harry, this is perfect," she said, rising to give him a quick hug and a kiss
on the cheek.
After a satisfied hour sitting back and enjoying the afterglow of the tremendous meal, Parvati
nervously stood up and grabbed Harry by the hand. "We better get ready to go. What should I
wear?" she asked, fretting.
"Dress Muggle," he said, rolling his eyes. Harry ran upstairs and quickly packed his trunk, while
answering a constant stream of questions from Parvati, who kept running into his room, about his
foster parents, her wardrobe, and what she should expect.
Harry managed to pack his trunk in a matter of minutes. He worried that he should have brought
along Hedwig, but somehow he knew she understood to stay in the owlry at Hogwarts until he
arrived home at the vicarage and then fly in, where a second, recently purchased cage awaited her
as her Christmas present.
Suddenly, he heard yelling from down the hall and raced over to Parvati's and Padma's bedroom.
Parvati was standing there in a nice black skirt and black stockings, but only her bra on top, her
arms crossed glaring at Padma. "As if half my wardrobe isn't already in your closet," she growled.
Padma was glaring back at her sister. "The pink jumper is mine and I won't lend it to you. I was
planning to wear it."
Parvati suddenly stalked over to Padma's side of the room and pointed her wand Padma's closet.
"Accio my clothes!" she yelled.
Suddenly three jumpers, four blouses, a skirt and two pair of shoes seemed to leap out of Padma's
closet.
Padma glowered. "Oh, yeah!" she exclaimed angrily, then stalked over to Parvati's side of the room,
practically knocking Harry over in the process, and repeated Parvati's actions. A half dozen blouses,
three skirts, a dress gown, and four pair of shoes flew out and landed in a heap on the floor next to
Parvati's pile.
The twins looked like they were about to come to blows when Harry jumped between them. "Stop!"
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he shouted. "Parvati, we only have twenty minutes."
Parvati turned to him with eyes begging sympathy. "I wanted to wear the pink one but she is too
selfish to share," motioning her head toward Padma.
Harry took a deep breath and glanced at the pile of Parvati's clothes on the floor. "Uhhh...what
about that nice purple one?" he asked in a tentative voice.
Parvati seemed to pause, then turned to give her sister another glaring look.
Harry, thinking furiously, cleared his throat. "I think the darker purple sets off the necklace better,"
he said in a choking voice.
Parvati again seemed to stop and ponder. She then sniffed and grabbed the plum-colored jumper
and, with a haughty look toward Padma, began to put it on. "See if I ever lend you anything ever
again," she muttered in Padma's direction.
As Harry made his way out of the twins' room, he ran into Lakshmi, who was quietly chuckling.
"You may turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to this family," she whispered with a
smile.
Parvati was still fretting about her wardrobe when Harry managed to drag her and their trunks down
to the main fireplace in the drawing room. After hugs from the assembled Patil family--including
Padma--along with Sirius, Harry grabbed Parvati's hand. He knew both the Patil's fireplace and the
one at the vicarage were big enough for both of them. So the two looked at each other and, after a
deep breath, they threw floo powder into the fire and stepped in.
"The Vicarage, Little Whinging."
***
Rev. Anthony Strowbridge was excited. But he was the picture of calm next to his wife Mae, who
was nearly bouncing off the walls waiting for the couple's foster son, Harry Potter, to arrive with his
girlfriend for a four-day, post-Christmas visit.
The couple had not seen Harry since August 31, when a huge old Daimler limousine had rolled up
with two huge bodyguards, and crowd of wild redheads and a pretty young girl named Hermione
had practically flown out of the car to swarm over the boy. To the Strowbridges, who had fretted
over the often moody young Harry, it was a delightful scene. Harry seemed to revel in the love of
his friends.
Still, Tony and Mae worried about Harry. He hadn't told them much about the dangers of his world,
but it was enough for them to want to know more about how he was doing. So they were surprised
and delighted that Harry had been surprisingly regular in his correspondence. Three Friday evenings
in a row they received brief, chatty notes, by way of Harry's owl Hedwig, that generally touched
briefly on school events and activities of friends. Tony and Mae would then sit down and write a
page or two about what was going on in their lives and the lives of Harry's Muggle friends and
those in the parish, by return owl. Mae would also post through the regular postal system,
addressing her letters to Harry through a postal box in the post station at Hogshead, the tiny Muggle
town nearest to Hogwarts, where someone would collect regular mail and forward it to Hogwarts,
itself.
Then, only a few weeks into the term, they received a very long, confused and rambling letter from
him, full of anger, tears, and self-recrimination. It appeared that Hermione had turned his affections
away. Then nothing for two weeks. Tony and Mae were heartbroken and worried for Harry.
Suddenly, they received an unexpected letter in the middle of the week. Hedwig, for her part,
seemed irascible that no one was there to collect the message for several hours. But the
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Strowbridges didn't mind, after reading the wonderful news. Voldemort, the Wizarding Hitler, had
been defeated in some sort of battle and would not be bothering Harry for the foreseeable future, if
ever. Then there was a new girl. Parvati Patil.
Harry's correspondence had changed in tone after this letter. His letters started to get longer and
more thoughtful. He had briefly described her, but not to the point that they could get an idea of
what she looked like, which exasperated them no end. But what was somewhat disconcerting was
his calm and understated avowal that he was in love.
The Strowbridges shook there heads at this. Fifteen-year-old boys were constantly falling in and out
of love. But Harry's quiet prose took great pains to explain his feelings about this girl. There was
little of the swooning statements you might expect of a young boy's first major crush, although the
couple had to smile about Harry's description of her as the prettiest girl in school. But the almost
analytical way he described his feelings showed a depth of emotion that surprised and worried the
Strowbridges. It was almost like he had grown up in the space of weeks.
But Tony also remembered a crush he had on a local girl at that age. She was pretty enough, as he
remembered, but she also was well-developed for her age, and Tony now realized his interests in
her were primarily carnal in nature and it embarrassed him to be so taken in by young lust. Not that
anything came of it, but Tony worried that, despite Harry's letters, his feelings might be of a similar
nature. And, given the more permissive atmosphere these days, he feared Harry's feelings were
derived from the physical rather than the spiritual aspects of love.
The Strowbridges continued to be curious about exactly what this Parvati looked like. They had
dutifully gone up to Harry's room as instructed and dug out the magical picture of his classmates
that he had hidden on the top shelf of his closet. It was one of all Harry's classmates in Gryffindor
during their fourth year.
Hermione, Harry and Ron were instantly recognizable in the middle to the group. Tony and Mae
knew that Dean was the tall black kid looking over Harry's shoulder. And the somewhat stocky boy
on one end must be Neville. On the other end was a relatively pretty young girl with a shock of
blond hair streaming out from under her school hat who must be Lavender.
But the other two were not quite as distinct. The one just behind and to the right of Ron must be the
joker, Seamus. It was still startling for Tony and Mae to see photos that moved. And Seamus, in the
photo, was moving, flipping the floppy peak of what had to be Parvati's school hat over her eyes,
much to her annoyance, as she kept turning back to elbow him in the picture.
The action tended to obscure her face, which already was somewhat shadowed from standing next
to the much taller Ron, in addition to being obscured by Seamus's horsing around with her hat.
So Tony and Mae could not really make out what the girl looked like. She seemed a little taller than
Lavender to her right. But she seemed small next to Ron, and a few inches shorter than the jokester,
Seamus. It was clear that her hair was tied back, as Harry had mentioned in his letters. But because
of the shadows, the movement, and the flopping hat, they couldn't get a good sense of what she
looked like.
Tony and Mae, frustrated at Harry's lack of eloquence on her appearance, except for his claims that
she was the prettiest girl he knew, speculated at what she really looked like. Maybe she looked like
the adorable little Susie Pondichary, the daughter of one of the Indian families in the town, with her
long, glossy black hair, nut brown complexion, bright eyes and dazzling smile with unnaturally
white teeth. The two smiled at such a cute match.
But the Strowbridges were anxious to see Harry, and almost as anxious to see how this flue, or
"floo," process worked. Harry had explained, rather whimsically, that it worked like Santa Claus.
They would come out of the chimney. He simply asked that the fire grate and tools be removed
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before 3:00 pm on Christmas Day.
Tony dutifully cleaned the fireplace and removed the tools the night before. The couple enjoyed
sitting before the fire, especially on cold days during the holidays, but they both were aware that the
magical world worked in strange ways. So, having completed their Christmas services and duties
for the day, they were sitting on the couch before the fireplace by 2:45 pm.
Almost exactly at 3:00, they heard what sounded like a whoosh in the fireplace and suddenly two
people, holding hands, ducked their heads and stepped out.
Tony and Mae were startled by the appearance to the two people in their fireplace, even though
they'd been forewarned. But they were almost as shocked by Harry. He didn't look all that
different--perhaps an inch or so taller with a slightly thinner and more angular face--but the way he
carried himself and the way he dressed was worlds away from the haunted boy who struggled to
figure out what to wear to services during the summer.
As Harry stepped forward smiling to hug first Mae, then Tony, the Strowbridges were struck by
how straight and erect he carried himself, rather than the slump-shouldered, almost furtive way he
carried himself during the summer. He was wearing a long black coat over charcoal gray slacks, a
light gray Hogwarts sweater and a button-down white shirt with a red-and-gold Gryffindor tie, a far
cry from the oversized, hand-me-down tee-shirts and jeans that he was just beginning abandon at
the end of the summer.
"My word, Harry," Mae gushed wide-eyed. "You look all grown up."
"Happy Christmas Mae, Tony," he said, smiling excitedly.
Harry then turned to the girl by his side. She was wearing a long black cloak with a fur-lined hood.
As she pushed the hood back, Tony stared. She was tall, taller than Mae, who was a solid five-footsix, almost as tall as Harry. And Parvati held her head high and her shoulders back. She had long,
very dark brown--almost black--hair with a short fringe in front, with a thick braid over her
shoulder. Her perfect complexion was a light olive and her smile was warm and dazzling. But it was
her eyes, a deep, dark brown, that were her most exotic and enchanting feature. Tony was
nonplussed. This was not a bubbly, adorably cute young girl like Hermione, who they had met at
the end of summer. This was a lovely young woman who seemed older than her age--older than
Harry.
Mae, on the other hand, was more analytical in her quick, almost instinctual, examination of this
new woman in their foster son's life. Parvati's nose was straight, but perhaps a little too long, and
her mouth a bit too wide. Mae noticed a hint of makeup. And Parvati's eyebrows were a bit too
perfect, obviously the product of a lot of time before the mirror. She wondered about the type of 15year-old girl who spent so much time on her looks. But then Mae gave an inward shrug. What 15year-old girl didn't spend a lot of time fretting about her appearance?
But this Parvati did have great bone structure, with a strong but elegant jawline and high
cheekbones. And her complexion was not the nut-brown of Susie Pondichary, but more like a
golden tone of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. Not the peaches-and-cream complexion
of the traditional English lovely. More like some unidentifiable ethnic beauty, like to daughter of
some Spanish hidalgo or Italian noble, or even like a Persian princess.
Mae nodded to herself. She was the kind of woman who could be beautiful into late in life, or
become thin, pinched and shrewish looking, depending on her life's circumstances.
Harry suddenly stepped back. "Reverend Anthony and Mae Strowbridge, let me present Miss
Parvati Patil. My girlfriend," Harry announced nervously, breaking Mae's concentration as he
looked at Parvati fondly.
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Parvati walked forward and embraced Mae warmly and then did the same to Tony. "Thank you,
Reverend, for saving my Harry," she whispered in his ear.
Tony was still staring speechless when Mae broke the spell. "Oh, come now. Since when were you
so formal, Harry," she said with a laugh. Turning to Parvati, she smiled. "Around the house, it's just
Mae and Tony." Then turning to Tony. "Or, just Mae and 'Hey You'."
Tony turned to Mae and started to laugh. Turning back to Harry, he again hugged his foster son.
"Welcome home, Harry. Welcome home, son. And you too, Parvati. Come now, take off your coats
and make yourselves at home."
As Parvati removed her cloak, Mae noticed that she was wearing a plum-colored jumper and a
simple, modest black skirt that came down just below her knee. And her boots were high and had
classic medium heels. The girl had a trim, but not thin, figure that was modest, but well in
proportion. This was in stark contrast to Hermione, who Mae had noticed when Harry was picked
up, was smaller, but whose budding figure promised to be more curvy.
As the two couples sat in the drawing room getting to know each other, Mae and Tony were amazed
to see how mature and confident Harry now was. For the first few weeks he had lived with them
during the summer, Harry was almost like a ghost, seeming to drift around the house cautiously and
silently, doing chores unbidden until Mae would kick him out with orders to enjoy himself in the
neighborhood. And he would disappear into his room at night until Tony would drag him out to
watch the tele or chat or generally goof around. Even at the end of the summer, he was often shy,
quiet and careful, despite the tutelage of Sara Geddes from the neighborhood and a new-found
confidence around girls thanks in part to the local parish dances.
Now, he was almost eager to talk about his friends, his school and his girl. Parvati, for her part,
seemed equally poised despite the strange surroundings. She would occasionally look to Harry for
guidance or appear a little nervous, but seemed able to hold her own in the conversation, with funny
stories about her family, school and Harry.
Some of what the Strowbridges heard disturbed them. Tony pressed Harry to tell him about
Voldemort, something he was never able to succeed at during the summer. He was shocked to
discover how Harry had nearly been killed several times during the boy's first four years at the
school and grimaced as he discovered it was Harry and Parvati alone who confronted and nearly
destroyed Voldemort a few months before.
Tony and Mae now realized that Harry and Parvati had nearly killed people, even though in selfdefense, something that he hadn't realized from Harry's letters, which tended to become cryptic
when describing the hazards of his world. He also now understood where Harry's nightmares had
come from, particularly from the incident where Cedric Diggory was murdered. The Strowbridges'
hearts went out to both young people.
Finally, Mae turned the conversation to more pleasant and mundane subjects. It was then that Tony
noticed something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on earlier. He noticed how Harry
and Parvati kept touching each other in absent ways--the way Harry would play with Parvati's braid
or caress her shoulder and how Parvati would hold Harry's knee, rubbing it with her thumb. Had a
pretty girl touched him like that when he was that young, Tony knew he would have hit the roof in
excitement and anxiety. And yet it seemed like Harry and Parvati took these familiarities for
granted, savoring them without any particular show.
Tony blinked a couple times, realizing. They were sleeping together. Despite the wonderful change
in Harry's attitude brought by this girl, the thought disturbed him. They were so young, even though
talking to them was almost like talking to contemporaries. He shook his head at the thought. He
would have to talk to Harry.
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***
Suddenly, as the sun had set, and Mae turned on the lights of the modest Christmas tree in the
drawing room, everyone seemed to realize it was still Christmas. Harry and Parvati rushed over to
their trunks to grab their presents for the Strowbridges.
Then Harry stopped and frowned, and a look of comprehension passed across his face. He jumped
up and dashed out the door. No sooner than he had left than he returned, followed by eight annoyed
looking owls carrying between them two large fragrant boxes.
"Uh, I forgot that this wasn't a typical wizarding household," he said, blushing, as the owls
unceremoniously placed the boxes on the coffee table. Harry quickly opened one steaming box and
the smell of a freshly baked apple pie wafted through the room. He quickly broke off a large piece
of the crust with some apple still clinging to it and fed it to the now mollified owls, which devoured
the piece happily, and then grudgingly hooted their thanks before Harry let them out the door again.
In the meantime, Parvati opened the other box, allowing the rich, fruity smell of a huge, warm
mince pie spread in competition with the apple. "Harry!" Parvati exclaimed in laughter. "Are you
trying to fatten me up?"
Tony and Mae looked at the pies with wide eyes. "Are these magical pies?" Mae asked in a
tentative voice.
Harry chuckled. "No, they're regular pies. They were baked and delivered from Scotland magically,
but they are normal in every other way," he said, returning to the room with plates and silverware.
He muttered a quiet incantation, then aimed his wand at the fireplace. Logs and kindling arranged
themselves in the hearth and ignited, and the warmth of the fire soon added to the spirit of the room.
Parvati eyed him. "Underage magic wards?"
Harry nodded with a smile.
Then there were the presents. Parvati gave the Strowbridges elegant jumpers, Tony's in Scottish
wool, and Mae's in cashmere. She made them both try theirs on and, after a nod from Harry, did a
quick charm to make sure they fit perfectly.
Harry, for his part, felt anxious. He wasn't sure whether his presents were appropriate. Finally, he
handed Mae a small, wrapped box. "I know it's more a Catholic thing, but I thought you might like
it."
Mae opened the box and drew out a delicate gold chain with a small, simple gold cross. Mae looked
up at Harry in surprise. "It's absolutely beautiful...But..." Then she paused in recognition. "You
were here this summer when I broke my old chain."
Harry nodded.
Mae looked at the chain closely. "This is so beautifully and delicately done." She then gave him an
uncertain look. "Harry, this must have cost a fortune. You don't have to spend a lot of money on
me."
Harry looked down and squirmed a little. "Well, it was only twelve Galleons," he said quietly.
Mae gave a puzzled look. "Well...I guess...that doesn't sound like a lot, I suppose."
Harry them passed a much larger box to Tony. "I had Sirius pick this up for me," he said quietly.
Tony opened the wrappings and stared. It was a 1.75-liter bottle of a rare twenty-one-year-old,
single malt Scotch whiskey. Now it was Tony's turn to Harry and stare. He began chuckling
uncertainly. "And I suppose this cost only twelve Galleons, as well."
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Harry made an uncertain face. "No, that was fourteen," he said, not sure whether he should grin or
not.
Tony simply continued to chuckle. Finally, he leaned back with a smile. "Not that I drink much of
this, but when I do, it'll be nice to have the best." Suddenly, he looked up at Harry. "You heard
Basil Wright teasing me about 'store brand whiskey,' didn't you."
Harry nodded. He knew it was a running joke between Tony and the head of the Parish Council
over Tony's choice of whiskey after meetings or when Basil came by to visit. Harry blushed. "I
asked Sirius to charm the bottle. It will continue to refill until you have drunk all 1.75 liters. So you
can share it as much as you want without worrying about running out. Especially with Mr. Wright."
Tony gave Harry a quizzical grin. "You mean I get to drink the whole bottle and any of it I share
with others won't decrease the supply?"
Harry shrugged and nodded.
Tony burst into laughter. "Well, looks like this gift will last me for months. It's about time I got one
up on old Sir Basil."
Harry grinned, then produced another bottle. "This is Dragon's Blood wine. It's supposed to be
strong but sweet. You drink it after a meal, according to Sirius."
Tony gave Harry a quizzical look, realizing suddenly how accepting he was becoming of how
different the magical world was. "I'm going to have to meet this Godfather of yours." He then
paused in thought. "He really was innocent, after all. I saw it on the tele that the search was over
and the real killer had been apprehended."
Harry nodded sadly. "He was in that place for all those years," he said quietly, as Parvati leaned
over to stroke his back soothingly. "But now he's free."
Harry had two last gifts. "This is something you should have had all along."
Mae opened the first gift as Tony looked on with interest. It was a book: So Your Son or Daughter
Is Magical--A Window Onto A New World.
Harry simply shrugged. "It was written for Muggle parents with magical children. It just tells you a
little about my world and how I fit in."
Harry walked back to his trunk and hefted a large, heavy package and gingerly placed it on the
coffee table between the two pies. As Mae tore off the wrapping paper, Parvati began to giggle and
roll her eyes.
Mae and Tony stared at the huge, thick book, and then gave a questioning look to Harry.
Harry sighed. "Hogwarts, A History. It's more like a history of the wizarding world in Britain. It
might give you an idea of what our world is really like. It's also subscribed for a year, so any
revisions in the next edition will appear magically."
Parvati burst out laughing. "And how many pages are devoted to you?"
Harry blushed, but Mae was already hefting the book to check the index. Her eyebrows shot up.
"Here. 'Potter, Harry James: Ancestry, 4515, 4583-4584; The Boy-Who-Lived, 4583-4587;
Forbidden Forest, 4823-4824; Golem (1995), 4825; Hogwarts, 4792, 4812, 4823-4825; Quidditch,
4812. See also, Dark Lords (Lord V--, 1978-present); Dumbledore, Albus; Golem (1995); Granger,
Hermione; Patil, Parvati; Potter, James; Potter, Lily; Quirrell, Caspar; Weasley, Ronald'."
Parvati gasped. "I'm in there?!" She quickly reached for the book and looked herself up. Finally, she
nodded with a crooked smile. "Two mentions, one for the Forbidden Forest and one for the Golem.
Not bad," she said with a quiet chuckle.
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***
The next morning, Harry had just returned from the shower and just had time to dress when he was
greeted at the door to his room by Mae and Parvati.
Mae gave him a fond look. "All right, Harry. Time to measure you. You must have grown at least
an inch since the summer."
Mae and Parvati started giggling and Harry had to smile as the two most important women in his
life pushed him back and positioned him with his back to the edge of the heavy door to his room.
A couple days after he arrived at the vicarage during the summer, Mae had cautiously suggested the
same thing. He had never even noticed all the markings on the edge of the door. Then, as Mae
positioned him so his back was up against the door edge, he saw her wistful expression and her
gentle, almost grateful, smile as she placed a small, flat-ended box on his head. 'Stand up straight,'
she insisted. Once she had the position of the box held against the side of the door, Harry had
ducked out from under it, puzzled. Then he saw Mae trace a short line on the edge of the door and
pencil something beneath it.
It was at that point he realized what all those little lines were in the edge of the door. He looked
closely and understood he was looking at growth charts of several generations of children who grew
up at the Vicarage over the years. And he also realized that Mae had never gotten the chance to do
this and probably always wanted to. 'Five feet, seven inches and seven eighths,' she announced that
first time.
It was the first time he had reached out and hugged Mae--one of the first times he could recall ever
reaching out to hug anyone on his own initiative.
By the summer's end, he had reached five-feet, nine-and-three-quarters inches.
Mae had also weighed him. He was 56 kilos, 123 pounds, at the beginning of the summer. By the
end, he was up to 62 kilos, 139 pounds.
Now, he was playfully being pushed up against the edge of the door again not just by Mae but by a
giggling Parvati. "Stand up straight, Harry," Parvati chided him. Turning to Mae, she gave an
exasperated look. "You don't know what a time it is to get him to stand up straight," she said with a
roll of her eyes.
Mae chuckled and found the old cigar box in Harry's room where he kept a few knick-knacks,
including his TriWizard Tournament medal, and emptied it on his desk so she could measure him
again.
Harry dutifully stood against the edge of the door, smiling, all the time listening to Parvati nag him
to stand up straighter. As Mae finished penciling in his height, Harry stepped away. "Five feet, tenand...about a quarter," she announced. "Congratulations. You're now taller than Tony."
Harry gave Mae a lop-sided smile. "Sirius said my dad was almost as tall as he was--a little over six
feet tall."
Mae returned the smile. "Five feet-ten is a good height. Almost ideal, if you ask me."
Suddenly, Harry gave Parvati a side-long glance and his smile turned mischievous. "Okay, Parvati.
Your turn."
Parvati squealed and made to bolt, but Harry grabbed her and positioned her against the edge of the
door where he had been only moments before. "Come on, Parvati. Stand up straight," Harry said,
laughing, as Parvati kicked off her bunny slippers in exasperation. He turned to Mae. "You don't
know what a time it is to get her to stand up straight," he said in mocking echo to her earlier
comment.
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Harry prodded Parvati a couple of times until she simply rolled her eyes and straightened up.
"Five feet, seven and....three-eighths," Mae announced.
Parvati's face fell. "Well...some of that is because of my hair...it's thick up there when it's plaited..."
she complained.
Harry rolled his eyes, but Mae tut-tutted. "You are a very lovely, elegant young lady. You should be
proud of your height," she said soothingly.
Parvati turned to her with mournful eyes. "But I like wearing heels...And I've got such big feet that I
can wear them high...and..."
Mae simply chuckled, but Harry guffawed. "That's why your parents bought me those paddock
boots with the riding heels, right?" he said with a laugh.
Parvati frowned but held her tongue.
Mae walked into Harry's bedroom and sat at the chair at his desk. Harry simply walked over and
flopped on his bed, his back against the headboard. Parvati walked in, glancing around in
appreciation, and sat down at the foot of Harry's bed and leaned against the footboard.
"This is a nice room," she said quietly.
Mae shrugged. "It's a rich parish with a history of fund-raising vicars," she said with a quiet
chuckle. "It's nice that this room can once again be used...by family."
Harry's smile broadened as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard.
Mae turned to Parvati. "So you have a twin? Is she as pretty as you?"
Parvati gave a half shrug. "I guess. We're identical."
Harry chuckled. "I can tell them apart easy. Parvati's hair is a bit shorter and she wears a fringe on
her forehead."
Parvati poked him and he giggled. "Well, Padma has a slightly broader face...and she's not quite as
pretty," he said with a smug grim.
Parvati cast him a mischievous glance. "Oh, yeah? So you knew you were leaning against Padma,
not me, yesterday morning?"
Mae blinked in surprise as Harry blushed. "Well...you sound a lot alike. And she came at me from
behind and grabbed me, so I thought it was you," he stammered.
Parvati simply laughed.
Finally, Harry relaxed. "I didn't know she was such a flirt."
Parvati's smile softened. Finally, she shrugged. "I think you're the only boy she feels comfortable
with. Not like that poop, Terry."
Mae looked back and forth between the two of them in puzzlement.
Parvati turned to Mae. "Padma, my sister, is dating this guy Terry Boot. Both of his parents teach at
a wizarding university. So he was raised on intellectual discussions among professors and
university-aged students, and that's all he knows to talk about. Half the time, we don't know what
he's talking about. So all Padma does is study and listen to Terry babble," she said, rolling her eyes.
"He has the social skills of an mountain troll."
Harry burst into laughter, but Mae frowned. "If she's so pretty, why doesn't she date someone else?"
Parvati sighed. "She's tall like me, and very smart, and a little reserved..."
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"Unlike you," Harry said with a giggle, earning him a gentle kick from Parvati.
Parvati frowned again. "A lot of boys are afraid to ask out someone taller then they are, or smarter
than they are," she said in a faraway voice. "Teenaged boys can be so dumb."
Harry simply shrugged and smiled at his girlfriend.
Parvati simply sighed and grabbed Harry's foot, giving it a squeeze. "She did like this one guy, but
he was dating a friend of ours. Then he turned out to be a real prat..."
Harry nodded. "Ernie..."
Parvati nodded. "She also liked this other guy, Justin, but he's too reserved. She needs someone
with a little life to him to bring her out of her shell."
Harry stared. "Padma likes Justin Finch-Fletchley?" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
Mae started. "Finch-Fletchley? As in the Finch-Fletchleys? The automobile family?"
Harry nodded. "He's like the third son of some Muggle Lord who's worth half the empire or
something."
Mae stared. "Alexander Finch-Fletchley is the Earl of Condon. They're wizards?"
Parvati rolled over on her stomach to look at Mae. "No. But the Finches and Fletchleys have had
their share of witches and wizards in the family over the years. So it isn't a surprise that we go to
school with one."
Mae began chuckling. "We drove a Finch Falcon when we first came to Little Whinging..." she said
absently.
Parvati shook her head. "She doesn't need someone like Justin. She needs someone who knows how
to have a little fun." She turned to Harry. "So that's why you better not encourage her. I'll share my
wardrobe with her. But. Not. My. Boyfriend," she exclaimed, punctuating her statement by
playfully throwing her bunny slippers at him.
***
Parvati was out in the kitchen with Mae, getting a handle on Muggle cooking techniques despite
Harry's protests that he was the better cook and should be in the kitchen, as well. But Tony pulled
him back and insisted they take a walk around the church grounds.
As they strolled slowly near the cemetery, Tony confronted Harry. "You're sleeping with this girl,
aren't you?"
Harry tensed and looked away for a moment. First Lil Patil. Now he was getting 'the talk' from the
one of the most important persons in his life. Harry stopped and closed his eyes to ponder how to
answer this. He first hung his head, then raised it slowly to look at Tony levelly. "Yes, Tony. I am."
Tony closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Harry, you are little young for that sort of thing."
Again, he turned to cast a level gaze at Tony, belying the uncertainty that he felt. "I guess. But there
are some things that happened that made it so right, so important to us." Harry then looked ahead
along the path next to the cemetery. But he saw nothing.
Tony shook his head. "Harry, I know it feels right. But that could be as much hormones as love."
Harry paused, but couldn't seem to come up with a response that made sense. He didn't know what
to say. Here was one of the most important people in his life, the closest thing he had to a father-even above Sirius, who often seemed like an older brother. And now Harry felt that this could
fracture their relationship. By sleeping with Parvati, he had ignored all the advice Tony had given
him during the summer about girls. He felt that he had let Tony and Mae down. And he now feared
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that his relationship with Parvati might jeopardize the closeness he had enjoyed with the
Strowbridges.
But he loved Parvati. She was everything he always hoped for in a girl, a friend, a girlfriend. She
was pretty, challenging, exasperating, exciting, unpredictable, warm, and fun. And he wouldn't, he
couldn't let her go. And he couldn't promise he wouldn't sleep with her again. He knew that was a
promise that he would have a difficult time keeping.
He closed his eyes and sighed as Tony silently led him through the back door to the church and
down the stairs through the vestry and into Tony's office. Tony sat Harry in one of the chairs in
front of the desk and took the other one, turning to face the boy. Harry was surprised Tony didn't
take his seat behind the desk.
Tony frowned in thought. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Harry, I'm concerned about this not
because I'm worried that you'll be hurt if you two break up. I hope I'm mature enough to realize I
can't protect you from the emotional stress of being a teenager. And I'm not about to give you a fireand-brimstone speech about sins of the flesh. But I do know of the more serious problems that the
kind of relationship you have with Parvati can lead to. I've been counseling sexually active
teenagers for many years. There are so many things that could happen. And almost all of them are
bad."
Harry lowered his head and nodded. "I know," he said quietly.
Tony turned to Harry. "What if Parvati gets pregnant? You've met a couple of the girls in town who
became teenaged mothers. You've seen what they go through. And teenaged fathers. How
desperate, how angry, how sorrowful they are."
Harry nodded and heaved a great sigh. "We are being careful."
"What do you mean, careful?"
Harry frowned. "We were just going out for a walk, to meet a unicorn Parvati had become friends
with, when Voldemort attacked. But everyone assumed we were looking for a place to have sex," he
said in a halting manner.
Tony frowned and nodded for Harry to continue.
Harry took another deep breath. "But after the attack, we started getting birth control advice and
methods from half the professors in the school," he said with a mirthless laugh. "So, yes, we are
taking precautions."
Tony was quiet for several moments. Finally, he looked up at Harry. "You know, having access to
birth control isn't a license to have sex. There's more to having a relationship than sleeping
together."
Harry was silent for a long time. He felt miserable, feeling that he had to find a way to explain how
he felt.
Finally, he looked up at Tony, fighting to keep his eyes from filling. "Do you know what it's like to
grow up an untouchable?" he said in a choking voice. "Both in spirit and in reality? To never be
hugged or kissed growing up, to never get a pat on the back, a kind word, or even a neutral word?"
Suddenly, Harry's voice was no longer choking, but filled with bitterness. "The only human contact
I had was feeling the occasional belt or cricket bat to my back or my backside. No one ever asked
me how my day was. Whether I was feeling well. What I was thinking or what I was planning. The
only ice cream I ever had was what I stole from the carton when no one was looking. And when I
was caught, I was branded a thief and thought of as a thief for the rest of my time on Privet Drive.
And labeled a thief to all who would listen to my aunt."
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Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "When I got to Hogwarts, all of a sudden I was special," he said
with a rueful laugh. "But I didn't know why. I didn't trust anyone, except my friends Ron and
Hermione. They were wonderful. They were the first friends I ever had."
Harry's face then clouded. "But then Ron turned on me last year when I was chosen to compete for
the TriWizard Cup--the competition I told you about, the one where Cedric Diggory was murdered
at the end. Ron was jealous. He felt bad afterward, but it scared me," he said with a vague half
shrug. "And then, at the beginning of this year, I tried to tell Hermione how I felt about her. But she
froze...treated me as if I had bit her, and seemed to turn on me as well. I lost her friendship when I
was desperate for human contact."
Harry leaned back in the heavy leather chair and closed his eyes. "Then Parvati seemed to just
appear in my life. It was all an accident. She heard me one night doing exercises, trying to wear
myself out to get to sleep. And she wasn't afraid to touch me, not as a sex thing, but as a friend. And
she was willing to listen to me. She let me cry on her shoulder. She treated me like a person, like I
was worth something. And when we suddenly found ourselves on the brink of something...maybe
love...she didn't back away. She admitted that she was fascinated by 'The Boy Who Lived.' But
when we finally got to know each other, she didn't look at my scar or my fame. She didn't ask
questions. She didn't stop to analyze the situation. She just let it happen. Maybe...just maybe,
because she thought I was worth giving her love to."
Tony stared at Harry, who now was leaning his head back, his eyes still closed as if he was too
weary to open them. Tony had never realized what Harry had gone through. The depth of his pain
and sorrow. He slowly reached across and grasped Harry's hands in his own. Harry opened his eyes
in surprise.
"Harry," Tony said softly. "I think I understand. I just wanted to make sure you understand as well."
Harry gave Tony a sad look. "I...I just like it when she leans against me when we're sitting together
studying. Or when she gives me a hug or a pinch. I like that I can hold her hand or put my arm
around her waist or shoulder without worrying whether she'll flinch or turn away from me. I
can...touch another human being...a very special human being, and she can touch me. It's like...we're
connected. It makes me feel like I'm not alone in the world."
Tony stepped forward off the chair and gave Harry a hug, which Harry returned gratefully.
"You're not alone, Harry," he whispered. "You'll never be alone."
***
Parvati looked thoughtfully at the stove. "Let me see if I understand this. You turn the knob and the
circle here..." as she pointed to the burners "...heats up to different temperatures. But you don't
know what temperatures they are. So you have to had be able to judge how high the fire should go
while you're cooking."
Mae nodded. "It takes some getting used to. So how do you do it?"
Parvati shrugged. "Wood-burning stoves...or magic. I guess this is easier to get used to than our
stove, but magic is the easiest of all. You just will the appropriate heating charm and the food
cooks. Of course I'm not supposed to be doing magic outside of school, but the Ministry of Magic
doesn't bother with underage magic violations within your family home. I guess they figure your
parents are supervising you and they know best. So I've been helping with the cooking since I was
about eight. My sister actually knows more recipes, but I think I'm the better cook. And don't listen
to Harry. I'm a better cook than he is. He thinks being adventurous means being good. But I think
taste comes first, not trying weird combinations. Of course I've only eaten his cooking a couple
times over at my parents' house. So he might surprise me yet."
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Mae laughed softly. "At least you can count on him knowing where the kitchen is. Tony is one of
those men who is more than willing to help around the kitchen, and then burns everything in sight. I
think he's a terrible cook on purpose just to keep from having to do it more often than he does now."
Parvati laughed. "I guess Harry's like that with shopping. He doesn't like to shop. It was a job to get
him to spend anything on himself at first, even on things he desperately needed. Now, he doesn't
mind buying something if he knows exactly what he wants and can get in and out in five minutes,
but looking around and getting ideas and trying out different looks is something that drives him
crazy."
Mae nodded knowingly. Then she looked at Parvati with an appraising eye. "One thing he never
mentioned was whether you are in the same classes. You two are the same age, aren't you?"
Parvati giggled. "Oh no. He's much older. Let's see, he's three weeks and four days older then me. I
never thought he'd be the type to rob the cradle, did you?"
Mae chuckled. "It's just that you're both fifteen, but you both seem so much older."
Parvati leaned back against the counter and looked at Mae with a smile. "Look, Harry's had the
hopes of the wizarding world on his shoulders since...well, I guess, since forever. My roommate
Lavender and I got a laugh out of finding out that we both had the same picture book of great
wizards in history and both of us were most charmed about the page about Harry. We loved the
story about how baby Harry saved the wizarding world from the evil wizard. And when we ended
up not just going to school with him but living in the same house, we were thrilled."
She then frowned. "I guess he felt that sort of hero worship from a lot of us. And I don't think he
liked it very much. But when things went wrong, he took it on himself, with the help of his friends
Ron and Hermione, to take care of the problem, even when he knew it might cost him his life. I
don't know why he always felt responsible for everything, but he did. And you heard him last night.
He almost died several times without ever giving what he was doing a second thought."
Mae's face had fallen. Parvati noticed. "It's just the way Harry is. And I guess he grew up faster than
the rest of us in most things. He always wants to take care of people. Like his way with the first
year students. He and Hermione...has Harry told you about Hermione Granger?"
Mae nodded. "We met her when Harry was picked up at the end of the summer."
Parvati gave a quick frown and a curt nod. "Well, Harry and Hermione are prefects in charge of the
first years in our house. Hermione tells them to study and reads them the rules and threatens to take
away house points when they do something wrong. But Harry is their friend. He listens to them,
guides them, gives them hell when they do something wrong, but encourages them constantly. He's
going to be a great father some day."
Mae nodded and sighed. "So how long have you known each other?"
Parvati shrugged. "We've known each other since we've been at Hogwarts. My roommate and I
always liked him, but he was always hanging out with Ron and Hermione, who is our other
roommate. And she's always been a little possessive and standoffish. So it was kind of hard to get to
know him. He did take me to the Yule Ball in our fourth year, but that was just when he started
noticing Hermione and was a bit of a prat. Okay, he was a real prat. He and Ron took me and my
sister to the Ball and we hardly danced or talked at all."
"So I really didn't get to know him until I came across him jumping around practicing karate in the
common room in the middle of the night in the beginning of the term. I thought he was dancing,"
she said with a laugh. "He was so cute and so sexy. So we ended up showing each other karate and
dance moves," she said, smiling warmly at the memory.
"We ended up talking and agreed to help each other out romantically, me with Hermione, who had
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hurt him badly, and him with Ron, who couldn't get up the nerve to say boo to me. We ended up
meeting a couple more times after lights out to talk and have fun together...not romantically...just
fun. Then, when Harry finally arranged a date between Ron and me and it failed miserably, we
somehow got together. And it was the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced."
Mae gave Parvati a wary look. "Is that when you two began sleeping together?"
Parvati blanched, turning a deep red. She lowered her head and shook it. "That came later."
Mae reached out and grabbed Parvati's shoulder. "Don't be upset, Parvati. I'm not passing judgment
on you. I just figured you could use someone to talk to about it. Someone a little older and more
experienced."
Parvati sighed. "It's...it's just that I found him so sweet...so nice...someone I had fallen in love with.
He was someone I could trust. And...well, it just happened. It was...wonderful. It was like we were
the only ones in the world. We didn't intend to...Harry even tried to stop a couple times for my
sake...but...I don't know."
Mae nodded. "So it wasn't just that once, was it?" she said softly.
Parvati gave her a wan smile. "Well...Professor Trelawney--she's our divination teacher--has this
boyfriend who lives in...well, London. So she goes away every few weekends to stay with him. And
my roommate Lavender and I are her favorite students, so she gave us a key to her classroom. So
Harry and I snuck up to her quarters and spent the night. It was so wonderful. And waking up in his
arms the next morning was the most wonderful experience of my life."
Mae nodded again. She knew that feeling well. "So you get together whenever this professor is out
of town?"
Parvati shook her head. "We were only able to do that twice. And we've managed to find a couple
other places when we want to...well, you know."
Mae's face took on a more serious look. "Is he demanding?"
Parvati looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well...is he always after you to go up to this professor's quarters, or wherever else?"
Parvati blinked a couple times and started to laugh. "Oh, Mae. He's fifteen. My mum warned me
that teenage boys are always interested. But he doesn't press. He doesn't even ask, really. If we feel
like it, fine. Otherwise, we sit and talk or have fun or just hold hands. He can take no for an answer,
if that's what you're asking," she said, her expression becoming mischievous as she finally began to
relax in front of the vicar's wife. "And if he didn't, I'd toss him out the window. I'm not that much
smaller than he is. And he's been teaching me karate. So he knows better."
At this point, both Parvati and Mae burst out laughing.
Then Mae's face recomposed to a more serious look. "Are you taking precautions?"
Parvati began laughing again. "You have no idea. When we defeated Voldemort in the Forbidden
Forest, the wizarding press all jumped to the conclusion that we were out there for a quick shag.
They started calling it 'The Lover's Showdown in the Forbidden Forest.' And all of a sudden,
everyone started coming out of the woodwork with contraceptive potions and charms, family
planning advice, birds-and-the-bees talks. We had professors playing father of the bride and mother
of the groom for weeks. I swear, half the wizarding world were interested in our sex lives before we
had even thought of having a sex life. So yes, we are taking precautions."
Mae was now giggling so hard that she had trouble catching her breath. "I swear. My little Harry. A
sex symbol."
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At this point, Parvati started shrieking with laughter. "You have no idea!" she exclaimed. "One of
our teen magazines claimed Harry was the sexiest wizard under 25! Can you imagine? I started
calling him 'Harry Potter, Boy Gigolo.' I never saw a boy turn that color."
As the two women collapsed against each other in laughter, the back door opened.
"Uh-oh," Tony said. "That doesn't sound good."
Harry gave a crooked smile. "No. It doesn't."
***
It was Wednesday. Tony came down to breakfast wearing a frown. He looked across the table at
Harry and Parvati and sighed.
"Harry, I got a message that Mrs. Beaupre is worse," he said quietly.
Harry looked up with a worried look on his face. "Old Mrs. Beaupre? What's wrong?"
Tony simply shrugged. "She had the grippe, but it has gotten worse. Her son put her in hospital
when he came by on Christmas. It's now pneumonia. The doctors aren't optimistic."
Harry lowered his head in sorrow. He had mowed the lawn for Mrs. Beaupre. It was an ordeal as he
used her antiquated push mower, and hand shears to do the trim. But she was a sweet old lady, and
it pained him to hear she might die.
Tony cleared his throat. "Harry. I'll probably be spending a good portion of the morning over at
hospital with her," he said quietly. "And I had promised to stop by to say hello to Jenna Cartwright
and her son, but I probably won't be able to make it now. And you know how she looks forward to
our visits."
Harry frowned and nodded. Jenna Cartwright was a young unwed teen mother. He had met her a
couple times during the summer as Tony or Mae would come to visit to see how she was doing.
Tony frowned. "Harry, Parvati? I was wondering if you two would mind stopping by Jenna's just to
say hello. I'm sure she would love the company, even if for an hour or so."
Harry looked up. "Sure...I guess." He turned to Parvati.
Parvati turned to him and smiled. "Sure. It sounds like fun. And we could walk around the
neighborhood and see some of your other friends. It's a nice day for a walk."
Harry sighed and then smiled. "Sure."
***
Jenna Cartwright had not had an easy life, despite being relatively well off. Her mum had developed
a drinking problem that only got worse when her father abandoned them.
Her one solace was her boyfriend, Will Short, who was a little older, but seemed to pay attention to
her like her mother and her now absent father never did. Then, at age 16, she found herself
pregnant.
Will, in a panic, bolted, joining the Royal Marines. Her father could not be found. And her mother
went into a rapid downward spiral that ended in her hospitalization and, eventually,
institutionalization.
Jenna was left with nothing but her pregnancy and a small trust fund from the sale of the family
house in Little Whinging.
Tony and Mae intervened, finding her a small apartment in the basement of an understanding
member of the parish. And they managed to see to it that half of Will's military pay went to her to
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support her and the baby, and saw to it that she had access to a portion of the family trust, which
was also being used to help pay for her mother's stay at an institution. So she had just enough
money to support herself.
But Tony knew how fragile Jenna was. She was a child of modest privilege who now found herself
alone in a harsh world.
Harry knew some of this as he and Parvati walked up the drive to pay her a call. No sooner than he
had knocked than he was greeted by an excited, if somewhat harried, young 17-year-old girl with a
round face, ginger hair and a broad smile.
"Harry!" she exclaimed. "I'm so pleased you could come!"
Harry introduced Parvati, who exclaimed how homey the small apartment was.
Soon, Harry found he was feeling like a fifth wheel as Jenna and Parvati began chatting away. He
was frankly surprised that Parvati would be this friendly. And Jenna was practically bouncing with
excitement that she had a girl who was almost her age to simply be a teenager with. He listened in
as the two girls started talking about boys, fashions and child care. And he suddenly had little baby
Jeremy, only ten months old, shoved in his lap.
As he made awkward, uncertain efforts to play with the quiet, wide-eyed infant, he heard Jenna talk
excitedly about the fact that she actually had found a boy who was willing to take her out. A
carpenter's apprentice named Jack Sponson from the next town over had asked her to the First
Night's party to be held in the Church Hall on New Year's Eve. It was her first date since she had
become pregnant and she was excited and frightened.
Then he noticed a familiar look on Parvati's face. "Well, we're just going to have to do something to
make sure you make a dazzling impression!" she exclaimed.
Harry barely had time to let these words register when he found himself in a baby harness with little
Jeremy, bundled up, sitting snuggly against his chest.
"Come on, you troll," Parvati said with a laugh, as Harry found himself being dragged out of the
small apartment by two giggling teenaged girls and off to the shopping area of Little Whinging.
***
Harry hated shopping.
Harry hated shopping when he didn't know what he needed to buy.
And now he found something he hated even more: Shopping for women's cosmetics.
He stared down at little Jeremy, who insisted on staring silently back up at him from his snug
harness on Harry's chest. Harry was in the middle of making a face at Jeremy when he heard a
familiar voice.
"Harry?"
Beth Simon, the slightly overweight young girl he had danced with during the summer, was staring
at him with a stricken look on her face.
"Is...is that yours?" she said in a quavering voice, glancing back and forth between Harry and Baby
Jeremy.
Suddenly, Beth's two best friends, Patty Rourke and Pam DeMarco turned into the aisle and
stopped, showing sudden looks of recognition. "Harry!" they exclaimed together and came bustling
up to greet him.
Harry turned back to Beth, who continued to stare open-mouthed at Harry and Jeremy. "Uhhh, no.
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It's...he's Jenna Cartwright's son."
Beth's face instantly showed recognition and relief as she noticed Jenna turn to look to see what the
commotion was about.
Almost instantly, as Patty and Pam walked up to Harry to give him hugs and kisses on his cheek, he
felt someone grab him around the waist.
"Hello, I'm Parvati Patil. Harry's girlfriend," Parvati announced in no uncertain terms.
Harry blinked as he looked at the four Little Whinging girls he knew from the summer and saw four
vastly different expressions on their faces. Jenna was smiling uncertainly. The ever bubbly Patty
was smiling broadly. Beth now had a newly stricken look on her face. And Pam was eyeing Parvati
with suspicion and a frank curiosity.
"Parvati's helping me with my face," Jenna suddenly exclaimed. "She knows all about makeup. I
want to look my best. I've got a date for First Night," she babbled.
After an awkward pause, the girls smiled and, after a quick series of introductions, were off to help
Jenna in a flurry of giggles and gossip and questions.
Harry looked down at Jeremy, who suddenly gave Harry what looked to be a smile.
Harry patted him gently on the back. "Is that a smile because you like me? Or is that just gas?" he
said softly with a crooked smile.
Jeremy gave a squeaky burp, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Just gas, I guess."
***
Harry and Parvati were strolling slowly, arm-and-arm, down Queen Anne road toward the turnoff to
Carton Drive. Parvati was uncharacteristically quiet after all the fussing and chattering with the four
girls at the cosmetics counter.
Finally, Parvati turned to Harry. "Jenna really has it tough," she said quietly.
Harry shrugged and gave a vague nod. "Jeremy seems to be a good baby."
Parvati was quiet for a few moments. "He's not going to be a baby long. He's already a handful, and
once he begins walking, she's going to be at wit's end keeping an eye on him."
Harry nodded.
Parvati sighed. "I'd love to be a mother some day. But not like that," she said quietly.
Harry reached down to grasp her hand and gave it a squeeze.
Parvati remained quiet as they walked in the mild winter weather. Finally she glanced over at Harry.
"Be careful with Beth. She's really crushing on you," she said softly.
Harry gave her an absent shrug. "I write to them all on occasion, but I told them about how I was
seeing you and all."
Parvati nodded. "What about Pam?" she asked quietly.
Harry frowned and looked at Parvati. "We kissed a couple times this summer. She gave me my first
real kiss. But she's going out with a friend of mine, Jim Jamison."
Parvati pursed her lips. "No. They broke up."
Harry paused and turned back to her. "I didn't know that."
Parvati frowned. "I wish I was going to be here for New Year's Eve," she said in a thoughtful tone.
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Harry frowned again. "I'm not interested in Pam," he said quietly.
Parvati sighed. "Still, I hate that I have to leave in tomorrow. I'd rather stay here with you. Or
maybe you can come back to Amritsar."
Harry slipped his arm around her as they turned onto Carton Drive. "You know what Dumbledore
said. He didn't even want me to come here at all. And Professor McGonagall said he had to pull
some strings to arrange us to use the floo network without alerting anyone in the Ministry about
where we were and when we were going."
Parvati sighed. Then she turned to look up to him. "So, who are you taking to the First Night's
party?" she asked with a mischievous smile.
Harry stopped abruptly, almost stumbling from being unused to the heels on his new paddock boots.
"What are you talking about?"
Parvati gave him a smirk. "You mean the sexiest wizard under 25 won't be kissing someone to greet
the new year?"
Harry stared at her, open-mouthed. Suddenly, a small smile crept across his face. "Oh, I don't
know," he said mischievously. "So many choices..."
Parvati began to giggle and gave him a pinch. "You better not!"
Then, Harry cocked an eyebrow and gave a mock thoughtful look. "Let's see, Beth is sweet, and
Pam is pretty, and Patty is fun..."
Parvati gave him another playful pinch through his overcoat.
Harry gave her an even more mischievous look. "Well, I can't decide between those three. So, let's
see...Maybe I'll ring up Hermione to see if she's busy..."
Parvati gasped and gave him an angry look. Then she punched him on the arm. Both Harry and
Parvati were startled by how hard she had hit him. She then gave him a gentler, more playful punch.
"Don't you dare!" she said in an only partly mock growl.
Harry chuckled as he rubbed his arm. "Well, maybe not," he said with a fond smile. "I guess I'll just
help set things up and work at the concessions. I'll have to make sure nobody spikes the punch."
Parvati grabbed Harry's arm tightly and the two began to stroll down Carton Drive.
As they went further along the drive, the houses got older and larger. Parvati looked around and
nodded. "This is nice," she said quietly, her breath frosting as she spoke.
Finally, they came upon a large brick home. "Well, this is it. Are you ready?"
Parvati looked at the house and gave a curt nod.
***
The Geddes home was as elegant as ever. And Sara Geddes was as beautiful as ever. She had let her
blonde wavy hair grow out a little and, though her summer tan had faded, her skin still seemed to
have a healthy glow about it.
And Harry was ecstatic to see Peter Boyd again. His best friend from summer had lost none of his
sparkle now that winter had arrived. He was full of enthusiasm, immediately grabbing Harry to ask
about his karate training, checking Harry's splits in his running and gushing over Parvati. And Harry
was pleased that Sara and Peter were still together and seemed happy, making plans for university
in the fall.
But Harry noticed that Sara and Parvati seemed to eye each other warily, even more than Parvati
and Pam had. They ended up chatting in a friendly enough manner, and seemed to be getting on
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well. But Harry could sense a strained undercurrent just below the surface. He didn't know what to
make of it. At least he didn't until Sara managed to get Peter and Parvati talking and then pulled
Harry into the kitchen on the pretense of helping to prepare lunch.
"She's very pretty, this Parvati of yours," Sara said casually.
Harry nodded as she handed him some salad fixings. He noticed they were on the opposite side of
the kitchen island facing the door to the hallway, giving Sara plenty of notice in case Parvati or
Peter came in. Harry frowned.
"But what happened to Hermione?"
Harry blinked. "I explained that in a letter I wrote to you. Didn't you get it?"
Sara turned to Harry with a serious expression. "I don't know why you couldn't ring me up when
that little blow-up with Hermione happened. I could have helped you out on that," she said as she
removed a turkey carcass out of the refrigerator and began to carve slices off for sandwiches.
Harry frowned. "Look, what happened, happened. Everything worked out. No big deal," he said
uncomfortable with the conversation.
Sara sighed. "Harry, when I met Hermione when she and your friends came to pick you up, I could
tell right away that she was crushing on you terribly. I warned her to take care of you. But I could
tell she was awfully unsure of herself or her feelings. I could tell because I've seen that look before
from other girls who liked guys but didn't know what to do. And I could really tell how she felt
about you by how she reacted to me. It was as if she'd turn me into a toad or something if she
could."
Harry gasped and had a coughing fit. Sara looked up, puzzled. "Are you all right?"
Harry nodded, then frowned at the line of the discussion.
Sara simply shook her head. "I wish you had rung me up while all this was going on and not simply
drop a line that you had a blow-up and now had this new girl. I could have helped you out."
Harry frowned as he chopped the salad greens. "Things worked out," he muttered.
Sara sighed. "For you, maybe. But what about Hermione? I know you were hurt. But I'll wager that
Hermione was hurting too. I could see how much she liked you but I also knew she had no clue
about how to tell you. And when you tried to sweep her off her feet, she probably panicked. And
when you started seeing this other girl, I'll bet it broke her heart."
Harry slowly stopped chopping the greens. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked quietly. "I
wanted to be Hermione's boyfriend. Then suddenly, Parvati came into my life and everything
changed. She's the most wonderful person I've ever met. And her family's nice and fun. And she's
always there for me. And...and..."
Sara looked up at him. "Harry, I'm sorry. Parvati seems very nice and she's very pretty. It's just that
you seemed so set on Hermione this summer and she seemed so taken with you when I met her that
I thought everything would have worked out for both of you. I just hoped that both of you could
have found happiness with each other. I just didn't want either of you hurt."
Harry simply sighed again. "I like Parvati," he mumbled.
"I hope she's more than just a pretty face, Harry," Sara said quietly.
***
Tony Strowbridge was still a little uncomfortable with Harry's and Parvati's relationship. Mae
shared his concerns, but thought that the young couple was delightful. And she still couldn't get
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over the change in her foster son. For the first time since she had known him, he seemed genuinely
relaxed and happy. Surely, part of the change was that he had finally shed, at least for the moment,
the burden of the fiend Voldemort. But she knew that the young girl Harry doted on was a large part
of the cause.
Harry and Parvati had been in the kitchen for 45 minutes, preparing what they had promised was a
meal to remember. Mae didn't know whether it would be a pleasant memory or not. Harry had
shown over the summer that he could cook. But his culinary skills were still at the basic meat and
potatoes level. So Mae decided to take a peek into the kitchen to see how the young couple were
faring.
As she crept up to the kitchen door, she could hear them talking.
"Harry, curry is supposed to be a subtle favoring, not a frontal assault on the taste buds," Parvati
was saying with a laugh.
"Well, I didn't hear your mum complain. And she is definitely a woman of taste." he replied.
Parvati chuckled. "She was just being nice. And I think she was too shocked to find a boy who
knew what a kitchen was for, much less knowing anything about cooking, to say anything."
Harry made a rude noise and the two continued giggling together.
Mae could see them side by side at the counter. It looked like Parvati was chopping vegetables and
Harry was eyeing the spice rack.
"Getting back to my point," Harry continued. "What's so subtle about curry?"
"Nothing, the way you use it. I hope you sifted it. I'd hate to see Tony or Mae bite into a curry ball
buried in the rice. I don't think there's enough water in Hogwarts Lake to cool your mouth if that
happens."
"Sounds like the voice of experience. One of your special dishes?"
Parvati gave him a playful swat. "No, one of my brother Gani's, I'll have you know. I don't know
why they let men near kitchens."
Harry laughed. "And speaking of the subtlety of Indian cooking, do we have any ghee? Or should I
just leave a tin of butter out for a week until it gets rancid."
At this point, Parvati poked him in his most ticklish spot. As the two commenced tickling each
other, Mae stepped back and into Tony, who had also been enjoying the by-play.
Mae looked at Tony, who had a broad smile on his face. "Just like a couple of newlyweds," she
whispered with a glint in her eye.
Tony chuckled softly. "I still think they're awfully young. But you've got to admit, they are cute
together."
The two withdrew to the drawing room. Tony raised an eyebrow. "What do you think of her?"
Mae gave a small smile. "I like her. She's very pretty, but I think she's strong and quite nice and
seems to have a good heart. I just wish she'd stop trying to act so grown up. I've never seen a girl in
such a hurry to be an adult. She's even worse than Harry in that regard. That's why it was so nice to
see them acting like kids in the kitchen there."
Tony nodded. "Well, she seems to have a good influence on Harry. He still has some coping to do,
but I think she's helping him enormously."
"We girls have a tendency to have that effect on the boys we love," she said with a mischievous
grin.
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***
It was a surprisingly tasty meal. Mae was pleased that Harry, with Parvati's help, seemed to have
graduated from his standard meat and potatoes fare to a more complex and seasoned dishes.
Tony, for his part, seemed pleased that, while the portions were smaller, the variety and number of
dishes had increased.
As they retired to the drawing room after the meal, Mae noticed Tony had gotten 'that look' on his
face. Whenever a question popped up in his mind, he had to know the answer. But often, he didn't
know how to ask it. Tony was never one to beat around the bush when it was something he needed
to know. But when the question was more than a mere matter of curiosity, or one of delicacy, he
would get a look of the utmost concentration that was almost painful to witness.
Mae sighed. It couldn't be about Harry's and Parvati's relationship. They had both covered that
territory the day before. Nor was it her background. She had been delighted to talk about her family,
often with Harry rolling his eyes and earning a playful pinch in the process.
Finally, Mae simply leaned over to Tony while Harry and Parvati seemed to be deep in discussion
about school. "What is it, dear?" she asked gently.
Tony sighed. Time to take the plunge. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Harry? Parvati? I'm curious about
the role religion plays in the Wizarding World."
Mae pursed her lips. She knew this could open a whole can of worms, but it was an important
question to them. Especially Tony.
"We go to services every Sunday," Harry said quietly.
Parvati, however, was watching Tony carefully. "You're not talking about Church, are you?" she
said evenly.
Tony gave a half-hearted shrug, then looked down in thought. Finally, he looked back at Parvati.
"There are a lot of people, even in the church, who see witchcraft as a form of devil worship or evil,
even blasphemy. I just would like to know what people in the Wizarding World think."
Harry started to squirm and Parvati looked uncomfortable.
Mae jumped in. "We don't mean to put you on the spot, dear, or you either, Harry. We're just very
curious. And there's no one else we can really ask."
Harry looked stricken. "I don't know. We go to services like everyone else," he complained.
Finally, Parvati sighed and grimaced. "It's hard to talk about," she said with a frown. "Mrs. Branch,
our religious studies teacher when I was young, always told us never to discuss religion with
Muggles or Muggle-borns. She said they'd get mad or offended..." she said uncomfortably.
Tony frowned. "Are your beliefs that much different, so alien from Muggles?"
Parvati gave Harry an uncertain look.
"Parvati is Church of England, just like us," Harry interjected.
Parvati frowned, her face a mask of concentration. Finally, she looked up at Tony, then Mae, and
took a deep breath. "In religious classes, we were taught that there were two major differences
between the way the Wizarding World treats religion from the way Muggles do," she said in a flat
voice as if she were reciting from a school book "First, we were taught that Muggles pay a lot of
attention to miracles, whether they're from the Old Testament, or New Testament, the Koran, the
Upanishads, or whatever."
Tony nodded in curiosity.
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Parvati frowned in concentration. "Well, we don't pay much attention to that. A lot of those
miracles for Muggles are taken for granted as normal life in the wizarding world."
Tony and Mae now frowned.
Parvati's face turned into a mask of concentration. "No! That's not to say they aren't important, I
guess. But we pay closer attention to the messages in whatever religion we follow."
Tony leaned back, his eyebrows arched. "Can you give an example?"
Parvati blanched. This wasn't going well. She darted a quick look at Harry, who was now looking
confused even as he rubbed her back in support. Finally, she turned back to Tony and Mae. "Well,
I'm Church of England, so I know Christianity better than the other religions," she said in a strained
voice. "Mrs. Branch, gave this example. She said that one difference is that, in the Sermon on the
Mount, we pay attention to the words of the sermon, while Muggles pay attention to the loaves and
the fishes."
Tony paused thoughtfully, frowning in concentration. He looked up at Parvati. "In other words, we
Muggles take the miracles as a proof of divinity. But you decide that the message is the most
important thing."
Parvati squirmed in her seat. "I don't mean any disrespect. I'm sorry..."
Mae reached out to grasp Parvati's hand. "We know you don't," she said soothingly.
Parvati frowned again. "Mrs. Branch says that the miracles are the only thing that's important to a
lot of Muggles. They don't pay attention to the message because...to them, turning water into wine
is...uh...more God-like than talking about love and forgiveness and redemption."
Tony frowned and nodded thoughtfully. "This is a lot to think about. But what you say does make
sense in an uncomfortable way. So miracles don't count?"
Parvati looked pained. She knew she shouldn't be the one to be explaining all this. But she had to do
it, for Harry and for their relationship. She had to explain this as best she could so that Tony and
Mae wouldn't think she and Harry were some sort of freaks, or devil worshippers, or worse. She
took a deep breath. "If miracles made all the difference in the Wizarding World, then the most
powerful wizard would be the one worshipped. If your ability to do the best 'miracles' was a sign of
divinity, then we would be worshipping Professor Dumbledore...or V-Voldemort."
Tony gave her an intense look. "So, was Jesus a wizard?"
Parvati gasped. "No!" she exclaimed. "That's Blasphemy!"
Tony and Mae were startled by her vehemence.
Parvati turned a bright red. "I...I'm sorry. It's just that that's the sort of claim that Dark Wizards use
to try to wield power. That they can do these great, dark things, so they must be lords, or The Lord.
That's why so many called themselves Lord This or Lord That. That they are powerful enough to do
things like promise paradise on earth or grant eternal life to their followers. It's horrible to say such
a thing, comparing Jesus to wizards who would like to play God. I'm sorry for getting upset."
Tony nodded in understanding. "So they can't do these things? Like grant eternal life?"
Parvati shook her head. "There are some things in the Bible that we can't do. We can't raise the dead
or resurrect ourselves. When you're dead, you're dead. It's that promise, the message that you do
right and forgive those who hurt you, that you regret your sins and be forgiven, that is the basis of
our faith," she said, reciting almost word-for-word what she had learned in Sunday School years
before. "Turning water into wine is something a lot of witches and wizards can do. But not
forgiveness of sins and redemption, the promise of eternal life in heaven. That's why we go to
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services and follow our faith."
Tony sighed. He didn't know what to make of this. He knew he had put a poor 15-year-old girl on
the spot with his arrogant curiosity. And in return, she had given him more to think about than
many of the religious scholars he had read.
Suddenly, Mae spoke up. "You said there were two things that made religion different between
Wizards and Muggles. What's the other thing, dear?"
Parvati blinked and took a deep breath. "Well, Muggles go through life hoping that there's an
afterlife. We know there is one, although we don't know what it is like."
Tony and Mae gasped and stared at her. "What!?!"
Parvati blinked in surprise. "Well...we see evidence of it all the time..."
Suddenly, Harry cut in. "One of the first things we see when we first come to Hogwarts are the
ghosts. Our House Ghost is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington."
Mae gripped Tony's arm as she leaned forward with eyes wide. "What?"
Harry shrugged. "Sir Nicholas was caught in a compromising position back about 500 years ago
and was beheaded...or nearly. That's why we call him Nearly Headless Nick."
Tony shook his head to clear it. "You mean there really are such things as ghosts?"
Parvati nodded. "There are lots ghosts at Hogwarts. Each House has its own. There's the Bloody
Baron of Slytherin, who was a merciless dueler until he finally found someone who better than he
was. There's the Gray Lady of Ravenclaw, who refused to relocate to the country and abandon her
precious library during the Black Death, resulting in the death of her family. And there's the Fat
Friar of Hufflepuff who got a little tipsy when he was supposed to be guarding Hogwarts during an
uprising of Giants, getting himself and several students killed.
Harry turned to her. "And Professor Binns, our History of Magic teacher, is a ghost."
Parvati nodded, turning back to a startled Tony and Mae. "And Reverend Micah Meacham, our
pastor, who was killed defending his flock during the Civil War."
Tony made a choking sound. "You...you mean your pastor is...the original Micah Meacham?"
Parvati nodded. "He asked...whoever was the gatekeeper to his eternal reward if he could defer his
reward to continue is mission to minister to Hogwarts and the Wizarding world."
Mae frowned. "But these ghosts, several of them anyway, seem all to have died as the result of
some bad or foolish act. Is being a ghost some sort of punishment?"
Harry frowned. "I think they become ghosts because they can't face what comes next--the 'Next
Great Adventure,' as Professor Dumbledore calls it. Maybe they fear they will be punished in the
next life. Or maybe, like Professor Binns or Moaning Myrtle, they can't accept that they are dead
and just keep hanging around."
Mae blinked. "Moaning Myrtle?"
Harry nodded. "She's...well sort of a friend of mine, I guess. She haunts one of the girls' toilets and
helped us find the Chamber of Secrets in our second year. I told you a little about that."
Mae nodded. "The big snake, right?"
Harry nodded.
Tony was staring wide-eyed at Harry and Parvati. "But the afterlife...? Do you know...?"
Harry shook his head sadly. "No one knows. Not even the ghosts. Reverend Meacham has talked
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about a reward, but he doesn't seem to know what that reward is or what it's like."
Parvati was still upset as she watched Tony leaning forward, rubbing his temples. Finally he looked
up at her and Harry. "Does the Archbishop know about this?" he asked.
Harry shrugged. "I guess. I don't know."
Parvati looked pained. "I don't know what any Muggle authorities know about any of this. I think
we in the Wizarding World are a little afraid of saying anything that might upset Muggles or
become the cause for Muggles to find out about our world. A lot of wizards and witches believe that
if the Muggle world ever found out about us, we'd be hunted down and exterminated," she said,
now clearly upset.
Mae blinked. "But why?"
Parvati shifted again. "Because they've been taught to hate us. They've been taught that witches and
wizards are evil. That we are devil worshippers or worse, demons or the Anti-Christ. There have
been so many times in our history when one or more of our people have come out in the Muggle
world only to be murdered or worse. There's been too much killing."
Again, Mae reached out to give Parvati a consoling pat on the hand. "You don't need to worry about
us, Parvati."
Parvati shifted uncomfortably. "It's just that...I didn't want you to hate me...or Harry for what we
are. We always live in fear that someone will come after us for what we are, whether it's because we
are from the wizarding world or...well...what we are in the wizarding world."
Tony sighed and reached over to grasp Parvati's arm. "I don't think you need to fear anything from
us, Parvati," he said quietly. "We love Harry and we've come to care a great deal about you, too. It's
just that you have given me so much to think about. And so many reasons to be embarrassed for
some of my co-religionists for some of their attitudes. I am beginning to understand more than I
realized possible about your world."
Parvati raised her eyes, which were now flowing with tears. "I'm sorry. I don't think magic and
being a witch or wizard is evil. It's something we're born with. But it gets me upset. There always
seems to be something to fear. Yes, I know I'm different from a Muggle girl. It's just...so many
times people get attacked or hurt for no reason. Just because they're different."
Tony and Mae blinked in confusion.
Parvati now looked like she was becoming very upset. "You don't understand," she cried. "We all
live in fear. If it's not Muggles, its' Dark Wizards. That's why the message in religion is more
important than the miracles. Miracles emphasize power. It says my God is tougher or cooler than
your God. But the message emphasizes love, caring, repentance and forgiveness. It's not about
competing with other religions, or impressing the Muggles with tricks. It's about living together in
peace and hoping for something wonderful in our life and beyond this life. At least that's what Mrs.
Branch say," she said, taking a deep breath.
"That's why our prisons are so horrible," she continued in a rush. "To scare people away from
turning dark, from seeking power, from making life miserable for the rest. But there's always
someone out there who thinks he can use his power