Foreshadowing the Unexpected

Chapter Nine - First Hogsmeade Weekend

"The real test of friendship is: can you literally do nothing with the other person? Can you enjoy those moments of life that are utterly simple?" - Eugene Kennedy

The second weekend in October was a Hogsmeade weekend. Connor woke up feeling a thrill of anticipation and dressed quickly so that he could meet the others for an early breakfast.

They had made their plan days ago, and intended to sneak Rachel into Hogsmeade through a secret tunnel that ran from the castle all the way to the cellar of Honeydukes. It had taken Connor and Rachel almost two hours to travel the length of that tunnel and back when they had tested it last Monday night, but were satisfied that their plan would work.

They would meet Rachel in Honeydukes an hour after seeing her through the secret passage. They were counting on the fact that no one would think twice about seeing her in their little group of friends, out in the village. Connor figured that she was in the company of the older kids so often, that most of the students in other houses probably didn't even realize she was a year younger.

At breakfast, they were careful to make a small show of expressing their regrets to Rachel that she would not be able to go with them.

"It's not like you haven't been there before," Connor told her in what he hoped was a consoling tone.

"What are you going to do while we're gone?" Zack asked her.

"I think I'll take my broom out and practice," Rachel said glumly. "There are going to be a bunch of kids out on the pitch for a friendly game. You're going to bring me back some sweets, right?"

"Of course!" Ivy assured her.

After breakfast, they went back to Gryffindor Tower, collected Rachel's broom, and were trying to look casual as they travelled down the third floor corridor toward the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor, (better known as the one-eyed, hump-backed witch). They stopped at the statue, and talked casually to one another as they waited for a pair or first year Hufflepuffs to pass by and turn the corner.

"Yes," Rachel said in an interested tone, "Gunhilda of Gorsemoor is the one who developed the cure for Dragon Pox."

"Why do you know that?" Connor asked, tracking the progress of the Hufflepuffs.

"Uncle Charlie had Dragon Pox a couple of years ago," Rachel answered.

"Vanessa had them when she was nine," Quentin added.

Connor nodded as soon as the way was clear, and they stopped the inane conversation. Rachel drew her wand and was about to utter the password that would open the hump of the witch to reveal the secret passage.

"Ahem."

Connor wheeled around on the spot, his heart giving one giant thump in his chest before it started galloping. He groaned inwardly to see Professor Lupin standing in the doorway of a classroom beside the statue, looking amused. Connor hadn't heard or seen Lupin approach, which probably meant that he had been expecting them and had hidden, waiting for them to show up. Connor glanced at the others, who looked stricken at being caught about to aid and abet Rachel's crime.

"Well, well, well! What have we here? You wouldn't be trying to sneak out of the castle, now, would you?" the professor asked mildly. "Because that would be against the rules."

"Of course not!" Connor said immediately. He tried to step nonchalantly in front of Rachel to block her from Lupin's view. "We don't need to sneak out. It's a Hogsmeade weekend."

"But Rachel isn't old enough to be going to Hogsmeade with you." Professor Lupin chuckled appreciatively and raised his wand. "Accio Marauder's Map."

The Map flew from Rachel's pocket and into Professor Lupin's hand.

"I do give you credit for thinking to bring a broom," the professor told them conversationally. "It took me and my friends months to think to speed up the trip that way."

"Uncle Remus," Connor pleaded with a hint of a whine in his voice. "Can't you just pretend you never saw us?"

"Not this time, Connor," Lupin said, sounding a bit regretful. "I'll remind you what happened the last time you snuck out of the castle."

Connor felt his cheeks heat at the reminder of the trouble he had led his friends into the previous April. This was hardly the same as sneaking into the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night, but he knew that if Rachel had been caught in the village, they all would have been in big trouble.

"What kind of example would I be setting if I let you slip in and out of secret passages ..." Professor Lupin paused and looked up.

Connor followed his gaze to see Rupert at the end of the corridor, tying his shoe. He wondered if the other boy had heard them talking, but dismissed the idea. Rupert was too far away to have eavesdropped.

"What?" Rupert asked defensively, seeing them all looking at him.

Connor just shook his head, and sighed. Rupert stared at them all suspiciously before walking away.

"I'll hold onto this for today," Professor Lupin said, pocketing the map. "That way I can be sure that no one accidentally strays out of bounds. By the way, Connor, I think tonight would be an excellent time for us to have a session to go over your Occlumency."

Connor nodded dispiritedly, and watched as the professor walked off with a spring in his step.

"Sorry Rachel," Quentin said dejectedly. "We should have checked the map to see if there was anyone around."

"It's just as well," Rachel said. "There's really no way that someone wouldn't have noticed me there. There's just too many of us Weasleys around, and one of them would have spotted me."

"They wouldn't have told, though," Connor said. "Do you want me to stay behind with you?" He really wanted to go to Hogsmeade, but it wouldn't' be as much fun without Rachel. "There really isn't anything that I need to buy."

"No," she smiled at him. "Thanks, anyway. You can make it up to me by buying me some of those chocolate dipped pretzels from Honeydukes. The ones with peanut butter inside."

"Deal," Connor agreed. He felt badly for her, even though she didn't seem too upset about it, and waved as everyone but Rachel headed toward the exit.

Filch glared at them all balefully as they passed, but ticked their names ticked off of the list of students with permission to leave, making no comment.

As they headed off across the grounds, the sky was overcast, and the grass crunched under their feet as they tramped over the frost-encrusted grass. Connor watched his breath plume out on the air in front of him as his nose began to feel numb from the cold.

"It is only October, isn't it?" Quentin complained as he tugged on woollen gloves. "It feels more like January!"

"I don't remember it being this cold in October last year," Ivy commented.

"Ivy," Zack said after a moment. "Are you all right?"

Connor looked over at Ivy, who seemed perfectly fine to him, then at Zack quizzically.

"I'm fine," Ivy said. "Why?"

"You keep making strange little squeaking noises," Zack insisted.

"I do not," Ivy said with a chuckle. "It's Circe. She's in my pocket."

"You brought your cat?" Zack's tone was disbelieving.

"She's not a cat," Ivy said with a sniff. "She's a kneazle!"

"Sorry," Zack said sarcastically, "you brought your kneazle with you?"

"So?" Ivy raised an eyebrow as if daring him to say anything bad about her kneazle.

"Is something wrong with her?" Quentin asked a bit anxiously. "Are you taking her to get checked over or something?"

"No," Ivy said with a heavy sigh, and something of a pout. "I just want to bond with her a bit."

Connor snorted, but tried to cover it up as cough when Ivy glared at him. She had been complaining for the past week that Circe had been more interested in staying in the third-year boys dormitory (mostly Quentin's bed) than in hers. She had told them before that she was worried that she hadn't been spending enough time with her new pet, but it was Connor's opinion that Circe just liked the scraps of food that Quentin kept sneaking her. He had even taught her to sit up and beg for the treats he saved from dinner. Connor thought it was no wonder the little fur ball preferred Quentin's bed.

"I thought that if I took her with me, she'd, you know..." Ivy said with a shrug.

"Maybe you should try bribing her with chicken," Zack said innocently. "That's what Quint does."

"Quentin Malfoy!" Ivy said indignantly, coming to an abrupt halt nest to the tall Hogwarts gates and giving him a shove.

"What?" Quentin asked, stepping away from her and glaring at Zack. "You feed her scraps all the time."

"She's my cat!"

"Kneazle," Connor corrected with a smile, enjoying getting Ivy worked up.

He saw Zack smile wickedly behind Ivy's back.

"I think that Quentin knows he can't get a kneazle of his own," Zack added, making Quentin scowl at him, and Connor hide a smile behind a gloved hand. "So he's trying to steal yours."

She glared at Connor and Quentin for a moment then said, "Circe is mine. How am I supposed to take proper care of her if there are other people feeding her all the time? She probably doesn't even know she's my pet!"

Ivy gently extracted Circe from her pocket, and the kitten mewled pitifully until she cradled it close and stroked its head.

"Oh, look!" Vanessa Malfoy's voice came from behind them. "Leo and his little friends."

Connor turned to face her, wondering what sort of nastiness she had in store for them today. She never had a nice to word to say to Gryffindors in general, and Connor in particular.

"Too bad Potter's roly-poly little cousin couldn't have been sorted into Gryffindor with all of the other freaks." Her tone was disdainful. "Annoying little pest's been trailing everyone around taking photos of anything that will sit still long enough, to send to his Muggle brother."

"What do you want, Vanessa?" Quentin asked his sister wearily.

"Who says I want anything?' she asked airily, fingering the cloak pin that Mrs Potter had given him.

"Then what are you doing here?" he asked irritably, pushing her hand away.

"I'm meeting someone," she said dismissively, looking at her brother's friends, and eyeing their matching cloak pins. "Is Gryffindor tagging you now, to keep you from wandering?"

Circe hissed, and let out a low rumbling growl, not unlike the ones that Connor had heard from Snowball. Connor stepped a little further away from Ivy, and Vanessa smirked.

"Scared of a little kitten?" Vanessa mocked, reaching over scratch Circe's head, perhaps to prove that she was braver than Connor.

Circe hissed again, and at the same time struck out with her paw and left a row of thin scratches on the back of Vanessa's hand that immediately began to seep blood.

"Damn!" Vanessa swore, jerking her hand back, and automatically dabbing at the wound with a tissue from her pocket. "I should have known that a Gryffindor's cat wouldn't have any more manners than it's stupid owner."

"It's a kneazle," Quentin said with a smirk.

"If you want to see a display of my manners," Ivy began hotly, stepping forward, "I'd be happy to..."

"Ivy!" Zack grabbed her arm and held her back while Vanessa sneered, but backed away.

"Like I said," Vanessa said sourly. "I'm meeting someone. I hardly want to be seen with you lot."

Vanessa walked away toward the village, leaving the Gryffindors behind without a second glance.

"What got into you?" Zack asked Ivy the moment Vanessa was out of earshot.

"I just don't like her," Ivy said with a scowl. "And I still haven't forgotten about what she did to Connor last year."

She pulled her arm free and continued walking toward the village. The boys went along with her, slightly surprised by the venom she had let loose on the Slytherin girl. Connor looked over at Ivy from the corner of his eye and scratched absently at his right hand as he walked. He was amused when he saw Quentin reach out a hand to pet Circe.

"Good kitty," Quentin whispered to the kneazle.

Ivy smiled.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The first stop they made once they reached the village was Zonko's. The popular joke shop was crowded with students. There were the usual items that Connor already had stored up in abundance in his trunk, since his uncles sent care packages to all of the Weasley and Potter kids with regularity. They said that it was good advertising. No, Connor didn't need any of the usual items - he was after one item in particular.

"Hey Connor, look at these," Quentin called to him from the end of a long isle of sweets.

Connor walked over and saw that Quentin was looking at a collection of foil-wrapped chocolate Snitches, all of which had their wings taped down.

"You take the tape off, and they'll fly around for a few minutes, just out of arm's reach." Quentin said, his eyes bright.

"Brilliant!" Connor said. "Going to buy some, then?"

"I think I'll send one to my dad," Quentin answered, but he put three of them in his basket.

Connor waited until his friends were ready to pay for their purchases, and then picked up the one item that he had been planning on buying: a new Chameleon Cloak.

He had used a Chameleon Cloak the previous year with great success when he and his friends had snuck into the Ministry of Magic. It was designed to disguise the wearer by blending in with its surroundings. While it was not as good as an Invisibility Cloak, and only lasted for a few times worth of wear, Connor had been impressed with it. Unfortunately, the cloak had been confiscated when they'd been caught inside the Department of Mysteries, and he'd never seen it again. He hadn't dared to buy another one when they'd visited Diagon Alley over the summer, for fear of his mother finding it.

"Excellent," Zack said when he saw what Connor was holding. "Maybe I should get one, as well."

"No," came a voice from behind him. "I really don't think you should."

Connor cringed as he turned to find his uncle looking more serious than usual. "Hey Uncle Fred," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I always come into Hogsmeade when Hogwarts lets you lot loose," he answered amiably. "It gets too busy for the regular staff, otherwise. George is off in the back somewhere."

"We were just getting ready to pay for our stuff," Connor said.

"Sorry, Con," Fred said, sounding genuinely regretful. "I promised your mum that I wouldn't sell you or your friends that particular item. She made me swear I wouldn't - under pain of death."

"How's she going to find out?" Connor wheedled. If anyone was going to let him break the rules, it would be Uncle Fred.

"She has her ways," Fred said knowledgeably. "I don't know how she does it, but she'd find out."

Fred reached out and plucked the cloak that Connor had been trying to hide behind his back out of his hands. Zack looked at him sorrowfully, and went to pay for his things.

"Look, if you swear to me that you won't go asking another student to get one of these for you," Fred said enticingly, holding up the confiscated package, "I'll let you have a few of our newest invention - not even available to the public yet."

"What is it?" Connor asked, interested.

"These are so new," Fred leaned in and said conspiratorially, "that we haven't even given any to the boys yet."

Connor knew that "the boys" referred to Fred and George's kids, Aiden, Jarod, Shawn and Patrick. He also knew that if they hadn't been given any of what he was being offered, there were prime pranking opportunities to be had with them.

"I'm listening." Connor urged. "What's the new invention?"

"First you have to swear that you won't go trying to get another one of these cloaks," Fred insisted shrewdly. "Otherwise it's no deal."

Connor considered the matter. He really wanted a new cloak, and he wasn't above being sneaky to get one. On the other hand, an unreleased invention from his Uncles was usually worth its weight in gold. Connor was open to negotiation.

"Is it good?" he asked, not wanting to regret the decision later.

"You wound me!" Fred accused dramatically, hand over his heart. "Have we ever let you down before?"

"I suppose not," Connor admitted. "All right, I promise not to try to get one of those cloaks."

He had not, however, promised not to try to find something similar from another source.

"Good lad!" Fred clapped him on the back and led him toward the storage room.

Connor saw Ivy standing by the door of the shop with a bulging bag, and Quentin and Zack were both at the head of the line to pay. He mouthed, "I'll be right back," to Ivy, and she nodded.

The storage room was stacked high with neatly labelled boxes on shelves that reached from floor to ceiling. Connor spotted George toward the back, putting multi-coloured sweets that resembled jawbreakers into little clear bags with deft little flicks of his wand. When he saw Fred and Connor approaching, he looked surprised.

"Connor's going to need some of the Flatulent Fancies," Fred told his twin.

"Flatulent Fancies?" Connor asked eagerly. That sounded like it had definite possibilities.

"I thought we weren't going to put them out until we had enough packaged for simultaneous release at all of our locations," George reminded him.

"This is a special deal that Connor and I worked out," Fred said casually. "In exchange for a promise not to try to get another Chameleon Cloak."

"Ah," George said, apparently needing no other explanation. "I've got some in that crate by my cloak."

Fred found the crate, and pried open the lid to retrieve a bag of what looked to be ordinary Fizzing Whizbees, except for the fact that that famous wizarding sweets didn't come in these particular colours. Regular Whizbees made the person sucking on them levitate a few inches off of the ground, and Connor knew that they had been a favourite of his father's when he was a kid.

"One of these little beauties mixed in with some regular Fizzing Whizbees," Fred said, holding up a single piece of the candy. "And you can get someone to eat it without them knowing it."

"What happens then?" Connor asked, a smile blossoming on his face.

"Uncontrollable flatulence," Fred answered with relish.

"You mean if I give one of these to Rupert...?" Connor's eyes gleamed with unholy glee.

"He'll fart excessively for the next two hours," Fred enthused excitedly.

"And the stench will make a troll smell like springtime in a meadow," George added from where he continued to bag candy. "Zoë kicked me out of the house for three days while we were testing them. You definitely don't want to go giving them to anyone in your own house."

Connor laughed appreciatively. "Brilliant! I can't wait to try it out!"

"Just don't over do it," Fred warned. "Eating more than one could be, er, bad."

"How bad?" Connor asked cautiously.

"Bad, as in, he'd need to change his pants," George clarified. "And probably his trousers as well."

Connor happily pocketed the bag that Fred offered him and shook hands on the deal. As they left the storeroom, Fred put a friendly arm around Connor and said quietly, "I'll give you five Galleons for every one of those you can get Snape to eat."

"I don't have a death wish," Connor replied, though he was grinning just thinking about it.

Connor rejoined his friends, who were waiting for him just outside.

"Did you get in trouble?" Zack asked, sounding worried.

"No," Connor said with a snicker, "but I have a sudden urge to buy a lot of Fizzing Whizbees now. Come on, I'll tell you about it on the way to Honeydukes!"

They went to Honeydukes, where Connor stocked up on his favourite sweets, then bought Rachel the treat he's promised her, plus several scoops of Fizzing Whizbees from a large barrel. Careful to bag each scoop individually, Connor wanted to make it easier to pass off with a Flatulent Fancy in each one. After stocking up on various sweets, Connor and his friends wandered around the village.

Zack was the only one in their group who had never been to Hogsmeade before, unless you counted the train station, and was eager to explore. They obligingly visited the owl post office, Dervish & Banges, Scrivenshaft's, and few other points of interest around the high street.

They ended their tour at the end of a road overlooking the Shrieking Shack. Connor knew it better as the home of Remus Lupin, though few other people did. The outside looked dreadfully neglected and weather-beaten, but Connor knew that the inside was quite comfortably furnished.

According to the guidebooks, the Shrieking Shack was one of the most violently haunted dwellings in all of Britain. It was a rumour that was still encouraged, for tradition's sake, though ghosts had never haunted it at all. To maintain an air of foreboding, Professor Lupin would occasionally invite guests to his home (usually the Potters or Weasleys) to make as much eerie noise as possible. Connor recalled one time where he and Lucy and Ian had been urged to scream and drag chairs and things around the house during a visit to Uncle Remus. It had been great fun.

After taking a look at the Shack, Connor eyed the darkening sky, and suggested going to the Three Broomsticks for something warm before going back to the school. It looked like it might rain later, but the clouds weren't too thick yet.

The others agreed, and happily they walked the short distance to the famous pub.

The pub was crowded with Hogwarts students, and the atmosphere was jovial as all four of them squeezed around a tiny table that was meant to seat two. Connor looked around as he fished his money pouch from his pocket, and guessed that most of the people milling about or sitting at crowded tables had come in to get warm.

"What does everyone want?" Connor asked, intending to go place an order at the bar.

"Hot Butterbeer," Quentin said at once, tugging off his gloves.

"Sounds good," Ivy said, looking furtively around before taking Circe from her pocket and placing her in her lap.

"Mulled cider for me," Zack said.

"Isn't anyone hungry?" Connor asked hopefully. "We could share something."

"That sounds good," Ivy said. "You decide; I'm not fussy."

Everyone agreed, and Connor collected a few sickles from his friends and fought his way to the bar. When he returned to their table with their drinks, it was to find Ivy and Quentin arguing over something.

"They can't be," Quentin was saying. "They're teachers."

"So? Teachers can have personal lives," Ivy replied airily.

"Not with each other!" Quentin said sounding repulsed.

"What's up?" Connor asked, setting down the tankards and sitting down.

"Professor Lupin as Ms Grayson are over in the corner," Zack informed him, nodding his head in that direction. He sipped from his tankard and then said, "Ivy thinks they're on a date."

"Why would you think they were on a date?" Connor asked sceptically. In all the time he could remember, Uncle Remus had never brought a woman to any family get-togethers. He had never even mentioned any woman in particular, either, that Connor could recall, or mentioned dating.

"They're sharing a meal in a pub, sitting in a dimly lit corner!" Ivy said as if it were obvious.

Madam Rosalinda, the daughter of the pub's owner, appeared at their table, set down a basket of hot pumpkin chips and a bookmaker sandwich cut into quarters. With a flourish, she also used her wand to conjure a shot glass full of cream for Circe, and gave them a saucy wink before moving away.

"First of all," Connor said, smirking at Quentin's sudden flushed cheeks as he watched Rosalinda depart, "I'm sitting in a pub with you, and we're not on a date."

"Well, there's four of us here, so that wouldn't count anyway," Ivy said dismissively while holding the cream down where Circe could drink from it.

"Second," Connor continued, "they're probably sitting in a dimly lit corner because that's all that was available when they came in. This place is packed, in case you hadn't noticed -- they probably didn't have a choice. They're not even sitting next to each other."

"So?" Ivy said with a shrug. "Why would they need to sit next to each other? Sitting across from each other, they can see one another more clearly, anyway! And look - they're leaving, and he's helping her with her cloak."

"That just means he has good manners," Quentin pointed out.

"He's paying for the meal," Ivy nodded in the direction of the teachers, and Connor saw Lupin leaving some coins on the table.

"Maybe she already gave him her share of the bill," Zack suggested.

They all watched as their professor and his assistant wove their way through the crowd, and toward the door. Connor noticed that Ivy was not the only student looking at Lupin and Ms Grayson speculatively, and began to wonder.

"He's taking her arm," Ivy said triumphantly when Ms Grayson opened the door.

"That doesn't mean anything," Connor said, unwilling to concede she might have a point as he watched Lupin place a hand under Ms. Grayson's elbow. "The stoop could be slippery. He's just being nice."

Ivy looked at him with an impatient expression, but didn't comment further, other than to mutter, "Boys!"

They all took a share of the sandwich and ate companionably while they discussed various things. It was the arrival of Vanessa and a Slytherin boy at the pub that gave them something interesting to talk about.

Vanessa laughed brightly at something the boy had said, and placed a hand on his arm while looking for a place to sit. They waved at some other Slytherins who called to them, but didn't join their housemates. Connor watched as the couple took seats at the table that Professor Lupin and Ms Grayson had vacated, and sat holding hands over the table. It seemed that they wanted to be alone together.

"Now they're on a date," Connor said.

Quentin looked partly nauseated and partly fascinated to see his sister with a fellow Slytherin. They were leaning forward in their seats and talking to each other intently.

"I don't know how to feel about Vanessa having a boyfriend," Quentin remarked after watching his sister for a while.

"Why's that?" Zack asked.

"Well, I could use this information to annoy her, and threaten to write to Mum and Dad about her new boyfriend if she bugs me," Quentin speculated. "But at the same time, that's the Head Boy she's with. Mum and Dad would probably be thrilled."

"Maybe," Ivy said. "But I'd be willing to bet she still wouldn't want them pressing her for details about him. I'd say it's a good piece of blackmail material."

Connor and Zack nodded in agreement.

"My mum's always asking me if I fancy any of the girls at school," Zack said with an annoyed expression. "Even if I did, I wouldn't be likely to want to tell her about it, would I? I'd never hear the end of it!"

Connor shivered at the very thought of his parents finding out he fancied anyone. His father and Uncle Ron would be merciless in their teasing. He thanked heaven that he didn't see much point in spending all his time with girls; Rachel and Ivy didn't count, because they were friends, and not really like girls at all.

"I caught Aiden and Christa Belmuth in the greenhouses last week," Connor said, suddenly remembering the incident.

"No!" Ivy said, sounding eager. "What were they doing?"

"It looked like they were kissing," Connor said with a small grimace as Ivy giggled. "I didn't stand around and watch."

"Why didn't you say something before?" Ivy demanded. She looked positively gleeful at this bit of news. "He can never tease us about anything ever again when we've got something this good on him!"

"I forgot," Connor said. "It was just before Quidditch practice, then I was really tired, and it just slipped my mind by the next day."

"It's not going to slip mind," Ivy said with relish. "I still owe him big for last spring, when he told Ian Montgomery that I fancied him."

"He didn't!" Zack said. "That Hufflepuff second year? How come you never told us?"

"Rachel knows," Ivy said. "I think that Aiden meant it more as prank on Ian than it was on me. I didn't want anyone else to know at the time. I still catch Ian staring at me in the Great Hall every once in a while."

By the time they had polished off the sandwich and chips, they were ready to head back to Hogwarts.

They discussed different scenarios for getting Rupert to eat the Fizzing Whizbees with the Flatulent Fancy hidden in with them, and whom else they might be able to trick with them. Their problem was solved almost immediately once they got back to Hogwarts, though, and found Rupert standing in the entrance hall. The younger boy looked as though he had just finished taking a photo on the main staircase with the camera hanging from a strap around his neck.

"Had a nice time in the village, I suppose," he said when he spotted them. "It's not fair that the lower years aren't allowed to go."

"We had to wait until our third year, just like everyone else," Connor told him. "Still, I remember getting mad about it, too."

"I heard the sweetshops got all sorts of magic sweets," Rupert said, eyeing their bags with ill-disguised longing.

"Oh, it's brilliant!" Zack assured him, elbowing Connor. "My favourites are the Fizzing Whizbees."

"What do they do?" Rupert asked, sounding slightly suspicious.

"They make you levitate a few inches above the ground while you're eating them," Connor said, looking into his bag. "I've got some in here."

He rummaged around in his bag, and with his hands hidden inside the sack, dropped a Flatulent Fancy into one of the small bags of Fizzing Whizbees. He pulled the baited bag out, withdrew a regular Fizzing Whizbee and popped it in his mouth.

"Whoa!" Rupert looked amazed as Connor's feet slowly lifted off the ground while he quickly chewed the sweet, and then swallowed.

Connor waited until his feet were back on the ground, and then did his best to look as though he were making a difficult decision.

"I suppose I could spare some of them," Connor said. "I did buy a couple of bags, if you wanted to buy one from me."

"How much?" Rupert asked at once.

"Three sickles," Connor said.

"Done," Rupert agreed.

He paid over the sickles, and greedily snatched the bag from Connor's hand. Without so much as a "thank you," or "good-bye," Rupert walked away in the direction of the Slytherin common room.

They waited until he was out of sight before they started laughing.

"Well, it's snowing!"

Connor turned to see Rachel standing behind them with beads of melted snow in her hair, and a broomstick in her hand. Her cheeks and nose were red, and she was grinning broadly.

"No!" Quentin moaned, moving to look out the front doors. "It is!"

"And I just whipped Jarod's team at Quidditch," Rachel announced with a satisfaction in her tone that explained her wide grin, in spite of the fact it was snowing.

"Does it look like it's sticking?" Connor asked Quentin, who was still looking outside mournfully.

Quentin looked back at them and nodded sadly. "And we've got Quidditch practice Monday morning."

They groaned in unison, and made their way up to Gryffindor tower. Connor handed over the sweets he had gotten for Rachel, and Zack filled her in on the joke they had just played on Rupert.

The afternoon passed pleasantly, as various Gryffindors trooped in and out of the common room with periodic reports of how deep the snow was becoming.

"It's going to be a more than a foot deep by tomorrow morning," Connor announced suddenly. The image had formed perfectly in his mind a moment before the words tumble from his mouth. "It's going to snow again on Monday, too."

"Are you sure?" Ivy asked him, setting Circe on the floor and scowling as the kneazle trotted up the boys' staircase.

"Yeah," Connor nodded, getting to his feet. "And if I'm to the point of making weather predictions, I think it's time I went to find Professor Lupin for my Occlumency lesson. He said to come when I felt I needed to practice it again."

Connor waved to his friends, and walked through the castle, which seemed quieter than usual. He supposed that everyone was tired out from a long day in Hogsmeade, or playing out in the fast-falling snow.

He reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, and knocked, but no one answered. The door proved to be locked when he tried it, and so Connor went down a floor to the Defence classroom.

He found Professor Lupin and Ms Grayson bent over a large tank full of murky water. They were both splattered and wet, and seemed to be struggling to hold onto something beneath the surface of the water.

"Grab its legs," Professor Lupin was telling Ms Grayson with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Connor scratched at his hands as they began to itch, and wondered if he should go back to his dormitory for the ointment that Madam Cosgrove had given him. Deciding that the itching wasn't so bad right now, he dismissed the idea and stepped forward. "Do you need any help?" he offered.

"I think we've got it now," Lupin answered, bracing a foot against the bottom of the tank and pulling hard. He grunted as a grindylow, making strange squelching sounds, was yanked from the water. Ms Grayson stumbled backward, and Connor could see that she was holding another grindylow around it's middle while it struggled and scratched at her.

Both grindylows were quickly submerged in separate nearby tanks, where they thrashed around in the water angrily before settling down.

Ms Grayson was swiping at her hair, which had some loose in her struggle with the water demon, and was hanging in her face. Her glasses were speckled with water as well, and she sported several scratches and bite marks on her hands and wrists. "Bloody mean little beggars!" she growled, surveying her damaged hands.

"Elizabeth!" Lupin chided. His lips twitched, though, at the mild profanity, and Connor suppressed a smile.

"Oops!" Ms Grayson blushed a bit and said, "Pardon my language, Connor."

"What happened?" Connor asked while putting his hands behind his back to scratch at them some more. He was thinking that maybe he needed to set out for Madam Cosgrove, after all.

"Just two grindylows that took exception to sharing a tank," Lupin answered, swiping at the moisture on the front of his robes before going to examine Ms Grayson's hands.

"No, Remus, don't bother," Ms Grayson said, pulling her hands away. "I'll just nip down the hall and have Grace fix them up. You see what Connor needs."

"Are you sure?" Lupin asked her, sounding concerned.

"Absolutely," she assured him. "It's nothing."

She smiled at Connor as she left the room.

"What can I do for you, Connor?" Lupin asked kindly, waving his wand to dry himself.

"I came for our Occlumency session," Connor said. He was just about to add that his hands were itching, so maybe Occlumency should wait, but the itching died down a bit, becoming bearable. "I was starting to make weather predictions, so I thought it was time."

"Sounds about right," Lupin agreed. "Come on up to my office. What's the weather going to be like, anyway?"

"More snow," Connor said sardonically.

"Is it snowing?" Lupin looked surprised by this announcement.

"Yeah," Connor said sulkily. "Quidditch practice is going to stink on Monday."

Connor followed Lupin up the steps and took his usual seat in front of the desk.

"How are your hands?" Lupin asked casually.

"They were itching a minute ago," Connor admitted, wondering (not for the first time) if Lupin could read his mind sometimes. "But they stopped."

"All right then," Lupin said, eyeing Connor's hands, apparently satisfied that they looked fine, "let's get started."

Connor went through all of the steps that he normally practiced, and Professor Lupin followed his practice by casting a very light Legilimens spell on his student. By the time they were finished, Connor was refreshed, and his hands didn't itch in the least.

"You're doing well," Lupin praised. "I don't think you really need these sessions all that much, though they can't hurt. How about same time next week?"

Connor agreed and went meet his friends in the Great Hall for dinner.

That night, Connor went to bed, and found the Marauder's Map folded up, blank, under his pillow. He spent and enjoyable hour with Zack and Quentin, watching the dot labelled Rupert sitting in the hallway outside of his common room, seemingly unable to get in.

"Looks like Rupert finally ate the Flatulent Fancy," Connor said with a laugh.

"Bet you anything they changed the password after they tossed him out," Quentin said.

By the time the Gryffindor boys decided to go to sleep, Rupert was still in the hallway.