Foreshadowing the Unexpected

Chapter Eleven - Payback

Consequences are unpitying. --George Eliot

Connor told his friends about his detention the next morning at breakfast, and they all agreed that it was Rupert's fault. Rupert had obviously done something to attract Professor Snape's attention while attempting to sneak out of Slytherin's common room, and screaming when Connor had scared him had sealed their fate.

"Well at least he didn't set the detention for Saturday," Rachel said. "You'll still be able see the match."

"I'd bet that if Slytherin wasn't playing, Snape would have made him miss it," Zack said.

"Then it's a good thing they are, because Whitney wants us all to watch the match really carefully and watch Ravenclaw's strategies and how our counterparts on their team are flying," Ivy said. "I've heard they've put together a strong team this year."

"Hey, all!" Whitney walked over to their group and smiled at them all. "I've just come from talking to Madam O'Leary, and she agrees that Gryffindor should be allowed to have the Quidditch pitch in the evenings for practice, since the Slytherins don't have another match for over a month."

"Didn't the Ravenclaws want the evening spot?" Connor asked.

"No, they said they liked the afternoons just fine, so there's no conflict there," Whitney said. "So I wanted to let all of you know that, starting on Monday, we're going to be practicing from six-thirty to eight-thirty, so eat your dinner early. Anyone who misses a practice between now and out Ravenclaw match in two weeks will be in serious danger of being bumped to the reserve team until after the match."

"I'm already reserve," Rachel said.

"Not anymore," Whitney said bluntly. "Nelson just resigned his spot, which is just as well. His Keeping's been rubbish since term started, and your playing's been top notch. Nelson has agreed to stay on a reserve until we can find a new reserve Keeper. Congratulations."

"All right!" Quentin cheered.

Rachel grinned widely as everyone congratulated her. "I need to write to my dad!" she said excitedly.

"We've got to get to class," Connor said, though he was pleased for Rachel. "Or I'll be late for Divination, and I don't need another detention on top of Professor Snape's."

As Connor and Ivy headed for the door of the Great Hall, Connor felt someone shoulder past him rudely, and looked over to see Rupert walking away with a scowl. Evidently he was still angry about getting caught by Professor Snape the night before.

"Girl," Connor growled at him.

Rupert looked over his shoulder and made a rude hand gesture, which Connor was about to return, when Ivy grabbed his arm and shoved him toward the stairs.

"We're going to be late," she hissed at him as they climbed. "We can deal with that git later. Besides, Professor Flitwick was standing in the entrance hall."

The rest of the day went well for Connor, and by the time he left divination, he had forgotten about his earlier run-in with Rupert.

That night, Whitney called an impromptu meeting with the Gryffindor team, and told them that she expected each and every one of them to be at the match tomorrow.

"This is an important game," Whitney said as they stood in the common room. "And I'll expect each of you to be watching how your Ravenclaw counterpart is playing. Pay special attention to any special moves, weaknesses or plays they make so that we can properly exploit them."

The team asked a few questions and made a few comments before Whitney was satisfied that she'd make her orders clear.

"Remember," she told them sternly at the end of the meeting. "Starting on Monday, practice is mandatory until our own match against Ravenclaw if you want to keep your place on the team. That goes for reserve players as well."

The next morning dawned clear and bright. There was no wind to speak of, and while it was frigid outside, at least sitting through the match wouldn't be too bad with the help of a few heating charms.

The Great Hall was noisy as the students prepared for an exciting match, and both the Slytherin and Ravenclaw teams could be seen huddled together at their tables, no doubt going over a bit of last minute strategy.

The Gryffindor team was also gathered together to discuss strategy, gathering information for their own upcoming match against Ravenclaw. They spent breakfast time pointing out Ravenclaw's players to each other and going over known weaknesses until it was time to leave the Great Hall for the match.

Connor, Quentin and Amanda walked out across the snowy grounds as a unit, with the Gryffindor reserve Chasers following and listening for any information that could help them. They climbed up to the highest seats they could find in the stands, and sat together as a team to watch their rivals battle out the first match of the season.

Zack squeezed in among them, and everyone waited for the players to emerge from the changing rooms. Despite the cold, it looked as if most of the students had come out to watch; the stands looked like they were filled to capacity.

Connor cast a warming charm on his gloves and pulled a pair of binoculars from his pocket. There was a slight buzzing in his head that told him that his Occlumency would need to be practiced soon, and he fumbled in his pockets for the Animus Orb, so that he could perform a quick session to hold him steady until after the match. He really shouldn't be having any problem at all, since he had spent at least a half an hour earlier Occluding properly before breakfast.

"Oh, no," he muttered to himself as his pockets failed to yield up the orb.

Connor thought back to the last time he had used the Animus Orb, and remembered slipping it into his school bag during Charms class. He didn't have it with him. He would just have to concentrate on the match and hope for the best.

A few minutes later, the two opposing teams took the field to tumultuous cheers or boos as the announcer called out the names of the players. Madam O'Leary supervised the captains shaking hands, and then signalled for the players to kick off before she released the balls.

Connor watched as the Snitch zipped away out of sight, and the bludgers shot high into the air. Madam O'Leary then tossed the Quaffle up to the waiting players, and the game was on.

"Stephanie Booth is always the one to make the first move with the Quaffle is put into play," Amanda said to Connor and Quentin above the din of the crowd. "She's fast, too. She plays left, so Quentin will be the one facing off with her when it's our turn to play."

"Lawrence Swann's broom is pulling down a bit," Connor observed aloud. "It seems like it's dragging a bit. And he's going to get an "O" on his Ancient Runes essay next Wednesday."

Quentin looked over at him strangely, then turned his eyes back to the game. Connor cursed under his breath as he realized that irrelevant thoughts were breaking through his concentration.

"Lawrence has a bit of a hook when he's trying to make a goal," Quentin said.

Connor tried to pay attention to the Ravenclaw Chasers, but was finding himself more and more distracted by the crowd around him, the running commentary of the announcer, and his teammates making noisy observations about the positions they were supposed to be studying. The buzzing in his head was becoming much more pronounced, and his head was beginning to really ache.

"Connor, are you all right?" Rachel said into his ear from behind him.

Connor shook his head, annoyed and distracted. "There's too much going on."

"Didn't you do your Occlumency?" she asked, taking her eyes from the match.

"I did it, but I guess there's just too many people or something. I'm just getting hit with tons of images I don't need."

Connor rubbed at his temples and sighed in resignation. There was no way he could stay here - he would have to leave and go back to the castle to go through his Occlumency again. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long, and he could make it back in time to see a good portion of the match and avoid Whitney's ire.

Quentin and Amanda looked surprised when Connor suddenly stood up and said, "Sorry, I need to get out of here."

Connor fled, shoving his way down the row of seats, ignoring anyone who called out to him. When he reached the isle, he trotted down the steps and jogged out of the stadium area toward the castle.

The mental noise that had begun to deafen him eased a little as he entered the quiet castle, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Thirty minutes later, Connor raced back down to the Quidditch Pitch, where a loud roar could be heard - someone must have scored a goal. Finding his seat again, Connor checked the scoreboard and found that Ravenclaw was leading by 50 points.

"Did I miss anything good?" Connor asked Quentin.

"The Snitch has been out twice," Quentin told him as he moved over to make a space between himself and Amanda. "It's a fast one today."

"Their Beaters are really good," Amanda said, leaning over to talk into his ear as the crowd cheered again at a missed attempt on the Ravenclaw goals.

Connor pretended not to notice that Whitney was glaring daggers at him from her place a few seats away, and concentrated on the game.

While Slytherin played a good game, they didn't seem to be any match for Ravenclaw. By the time Madam O'Leary blew the final whistle, Ravenclaw had beaten Slytherin 290- 90.

"Potter!"

Connor visibly cringed when Whitney called out to him.

Other students were filing out of the stands, and Connor had been hoping to delay the inevitable by getting lost in their midst. Unfortunately, Whitney was as adept at spotting her players as she was at spotting the Snitch.

"Where did you run off to? I thought I made it clear how important it was for you to be here to watch this match!" Whitney asked crossly.

Connor thought that her attitude probably had a lot to do with the fact that Ravenclaw had put on an excellent display of teamwork, and would be very hard to beat in two weeks time.

"Sorry," Connor said. "I couldn't help it."

Whitney eyed him beadily for a moment and asked, "Was it because of your precognition?'

Connor nodded, and watched with trepidation as her nostrils flared. "How can I keep you on the team, if you can't even watch a match without problems? If you have this sort of situation while we're playing, we might as well just concede the match!"

"Look," Connor said a bit desperately, "I know I had a problem today, but I'll be all right! I'll work extra hard at practice, and on the morning of our match, I'll have Professor Lupin help me with my Occlumency so that I don't miss anything. I won't let it get in the way."

Whitney seemed to be considering his argument. "Okay, Potter," she said at last. "I'm going to take the risk that you can keep it under control. You're a good player, and I don't want to lose you. But I'm going to warn you now that if you screw up at the Ravenclaw match, you're out - off the team. I mean it."

Connor sighed with a mixture of relief and trepidation, and nodded. "It's a deal."

"Good," Whitney said. "Now get together with Amanda, Quentin and the reserve Chasers, and talk about anything you saw today that might help us beat Ravenclaw. See if the six of you can come up with some new plays. I want you to work closely with Randall Gordon, especially. He's the one who's going to replace you if you can't play, and I want him completely up to speed."

Connor didn't think that she would take any arguments well at that point, so he left Whitney and went to find his fellow Chasers. It didn't bode well that Whitney was already talking about replacing him, and Connor wanted very badly to prove her wrong. Still, he couldn't deny the fact that if his Occlumency failed him again he would have to forfeit his spot on the team - maybe permanently.

Connor dutifully found the other Chasers and trudged back up to the castle only to find Filch having some sort of temper tantrum in the entrance hall the likes of which they had never seen before. The caretaker's face was flushed red, and he was shaking like mad as he shook at first year Hufflepuff girl by the shoulder as he shouted. It wasn't unusual for Filch to get angry over messes left around the castle, but this was different.

"Mud! Look at all of this mud! Do think it's a joke to make a mess like this for me to clean up? Do you?" Filch's shouts had drawn a small crowd, and the attention only seemed to spur him to new heights of apoplexy. "You leave a mess like this behind without a second thought, but if someone was to slip and crack their head open on the ground, it would be me that got blamed, wouldn't it?"

The Hufflepuff girl had frightened tears in her eyes, and her friends, including Connor's cousin Maggie, stood nearby looking absolutely terrified. There was a collective sigh of relief when Ms Grayson and Professor Lupin came through the front doors to find the old man in the act of shaking the girl again.

Connor recognised the determined look in Lupin's eye as he stepped forward to deal with the matter at hand. Ms Grayson followed behind him, and as soon as the professor had extracted the girl from Filch's grip she gently guided the child away, making comforting noises all the while.

"Argus," Professor Lupin said gently. "Why don't we go to my office and discuss this?"

"Ain't nothin' to discuss." Filch spat angrily, his voice cracking. "Girl left a filthy mess all over the floor, and she needs to be punished for it! They think that just because she's gone, they won't get caught..."

There was really no question to whom Filch was referring when he said that she was gone.

Professor Lupin, to his credit, looked around for signs that the girl had actually made a deliberate mess in the entrance hall before dismissing Filch's complaint. Connor looked around, too, and saw that all of them had made wet or muddy tracks on the stone floor as they came in from the Quidditch match. It was unavoidable, really, not to have left tracks behind.

"All right, Argus, I'll see to it," Lupin said warily, taking the other man's arm. "Let's get you back to your office and get you some tea. I'll make sure that Miss Armstrong gets what she deserves."

Filch's cheeks were still ruddy, and as Lupin firmly guided the old man past, Connor got a strong whiff of whiskey. It appeared that Filch had been drinking.

Once Lupin had led the inebriated Filch out of the entrance hall, the crowd began to disperse. Connor and the other Chasers retreated to Gryffindor Tower, where they discussed Quidditch for most of the day, breaking only for lunch and dinner. Filch didn't appear at either meal.

Connor spent Sunday doing homework, knowing that Monday would be completely taken up by whatever detention Professor Snape devised, and then Quidditch practice. By the time he'd finished his third essay, he was almost sure that the professors must occasionally congregate somewhere and plan to assign vast amounts of homework all at once.

Monday morning dawned with a fresh, thick layer of snow on the ground outside, and corridors that seemed colder than usual.

Connor was not looking forward to any but his last class of the day, and then he was going to be serving detention with Rupert before going outside to play Quidditch it what was likely to be freezing conditions.

His first class was potions, and even though Connor managed to brew a nearly perfect potion, Snape merely sneered nastily at him and reminded him that his detention began promptly at four o'clock.

"Sir," Connor asked timidly, thinking of his Quidditch practice at six-thirty. Whitney would kill him if he missed it. "May I ask how long my detention will be?"

"As long as it takes you to finish the task I assign you," Snape snapped. "Now return to your seat!"

Connor mentally groaned. Snape was notorious for his long and labour intensive detentions.

At lunch, Connor ate three helpings of shepherd's pie, and stuffed two oranges and a handful of humbugs into his schoolbag for later. He didn't think he'd be risking a nighttime trip down to the kitchens again anytime soon.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was a surprise when Connor and the others arrived to find Ms Grayson there to greet them.

"Professor Lupin has had to take a short personal business trip," Ms Grayson told them once they were settled. "He should be away for the next four or five days, through the time of the full moon. He should be back a couple of days before Halloween. In the meantime, you're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

This wasn't particularly bad news as far as most of them were concerned. The students liked Ms Grayson's teaching style, and respected her enough to behave well in Lupin's absence.

After an enjoyable class about the dangers of red caps, Connor collected his school bag and asked Quentin to take his Quidditch kit down to the changing rooms for him. He didn't want to waste any time in getting to the dungeons in case Snape was in a foul mood.

He met Rupert outside of the Potions classroom and ignored him completely until Rupert shoved him out of the way so he could enter the room ahead of Connor.

"Ladies first," Connor said acidly.

Rupert was about to retort when Professor Snape cleared his throat from the front of the room, where he was seated at his desk.

"Take a seat, gentlemen," Snape said calmly, not looking up from the parchment he was looking over. "At the same table," he added when the boys began to head to opposite sides of the room.

Connor sat down at the table nearest to Snape's desk, and stared at Rupert until he did the same. They sat in silence and waited to hear what task they would be given, not looking at each other. It was a full five minutes before Snape looked up and regarded them before speaking.

"You will be harvesting flobberworm mucus today," he told the boys. "I will show you the procedure, and then you will go about your work silently until the job is finished. You will leave only when the job is finished, is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Connor answered, feeling a measure of relief. He had learned how to do this in his Care of Magical Creatures class, and while the chore wasn't pleasant, it wasn't exactly difficult, either.

The Professor then levitated two huge wooden barrels from a corner of the room, and settled them in front of the worktable where the boys sat. Next, he summoned two large glass beakers from a nearby shelf. Connor ran through a litany of swear words in his head, but said nothing as Snape pried the lid from one of the barrels to reveal what must have been thousands of fat flobberworms writhing around inside.

"Gross! You want us to touch those?" Rupert exclaimed, jumping to his feet and stepping backward in disgust.

Snape's only reply to that was a stare that made Rupert gulp audibly and resume his seat.

"The flobberworm has a gland approximately two thirds of the way down its body," the professor said, picking up one of the foot-long worms and competently locating the gland. "You will gently use your thumb and forefinger to stimulate this gland, and then drag your fingers slowly backward toward the tail of the worm, catching the secreted mucus in the beaker."

Expertly demonstrating the technique, the professor held the tail of the worm over the mouth of the beaker and made Rupert gag as a thick grey fluid oozed from the worm and into the receptacle. The entire process took between five and ten seconds.

"You will not," the Professor said, ignoring Rupert's reaction, "Cause any damage to the worms if you do the technique properly. I expect it to be done properly."

He pried the lid from the other barrel, and Connor was relieved to see that it was empty. One barrel alone could take them hours to complete if they weren't efficient about it, and Connor didn't have that kind of time. Snape dropped the worm he had just milked into the empty barrel and wiped his hands on a cloth from his pocket.

"May we get started, Professor?" Connor asked.

"I would suggest you do," Snape answered with a cocked eyebrow. "I will watch you both for the first couple of tries, and then leave you to it. Inform me when the barrel is empty, and I will dismiss you."

Connor determinedly picked up one of the worms, which was slightly slimy and cool, and extracted the required mucus into the beaker, just as he had been shown. Snape said nothing, but turned his eyes to Rupert to supervise him, instead.

Connor selected another worm, and repeated the process, trying to ignore Rupert's whimpering as he timidly picked up a worm, and promptly dropped it with a gasp.

"Don't be stupid!" Snape snarled at Rupert. "It hasn't even got any teeth. Pick it up and do as I told you. You will be here for a very long time, indeed, at this rate."

Connor gritted his teeth and dropped his worm in the empty barrel, scooping up another. By the time Rupert had extracted the mucus from just one worm (which he killed in the process), Connor had finished seven of them. He sneered at Rupert and mouthed "girl" as he continued with his task.

"That will be enough, Potter," Snape said mildly. "Continue with your own job and let Dursley do his."

Connor nodded and scooped up another worm. The smell of the mucus was unpleasant, but not overwhelming, and certainly not as vile as Rupert was making it out to be. Connor soon established a rhythm.

Once Snape was satisfied that Rupert could perform the task without killing every single one of the worms, he retreated to a small office, just off to the side of the classroom. As soon as Snape disappeared from view, Rupert slowed considerably in his efforts.

"Why would anyone ever want to do this?" Rupert grumbled.

"Flobberworm mucus is a valuable potions ingredient," Connor told him in a tone that also said, 'You're an idiot.'

"It's disgusting!" Rupert complained.

"Look," Connor said angrily without pausing in his work, "I have Quidditch practice in two and a half hours, and I have to be there. The faster we work, the sooner we can get out of here."

"Well, I don't have anywhere to be tonight," Rupert said slyly, tossing the one worm he had milked since Snape left into the barrel. "So I can take all the time I want. If you're so eager to get out of here, you'd better work faster."

Connor couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rupert was actually planning on making him do almost all of the work, knowing that Connor wouldn't have a choice if he wanted to make it to Quidditch practice.

"Rupert," Connor said, seeing red. "If you don't get your fat bum in gear and help me with these flobberworms, I swear you'll regret it."

"I don't think so," Rupert said. "You're the one in a hurry."

Connor stared hard at Rupert for a moment, pausing in his work, and then forced a smile to his lips as he said, "Fine. Don't say you weren't warned."

"I'm terrified," Rupert said with a bored air, taking as much time as humanly possible to milk another worm.

"You should be," Connor promised darkly.

He didn't speak another word to Rupert for the next three hours.

Professor Snape surveyed the seven and a half beakers full of mucus once Connor had informed him that he was done, and said, "Very well, you may go."

Connor spared one moment to glare at Rupert, who was looking smug over the half-beaker he had filled, and said soft to the Slytherin boy, "Don't forget what I said."

He walked out of the classroom, and then sprinted for the Quidditch pitch. He took precious minutes to change into his practice robes, and then sprinted out onto the pitch to join the practice with had already been underway for forty-five minutes.

Whitney was so furious with his tardiness that she shouted at him for ten minutes, berating him for leaving and missing half of Saturday's match, and now being late for a mandatory practice. She was so mad that she made him switch his outer robes and play on the reserve team for the rest of practice.

Connor went through all of the drills and a short scrimmage so angry with Rupert that his throws were a little more aggressive than usual. Once, the Quaffle struck the hoop so hard, that the entire goal post vibrated

"What is wrong with you today?" Rachel asked in exasperation during a brief lull in play.

"Rupert needs to be taught a lesson," he growled.

She didn't have time to question him further, as the Quaffle was put back in play.

By the end of practice, Connor was soaked with perspiration from his efforts, and breathing heavily. He had scored against Rachel more than anyone else had since the term began, and Whitney softened in her attitude a bit.

"At least you played well," she conceded as they headed to the changing rooms. "Don't be late again."

Connor assured her that he wouldn't miss any more practices, and then went to take a long, hot shower. His hands ached from milking flobberworms for hours, and his shoulders were protesting the ferocity with which Connor had been abusing them during practice.

"What happened?" Quentin asked, stepping into the shower stall beside Connor. "Rachel said something about Rupert."

Letting the steaming water pound on his back and relieve some of the tension in his muscles, Connor related the story of Rupert's behaviour at detention.

"I am going to deliver up revenge for this," Connor vowed. "Profoundly."

"Count me in," Quentin volunteered. "In fact, once the team finds out that Rupert deliberately kept you from practice, you can probably count on all of them to help out, as well."

"He's going to regret not listening to me," Connor said with a malicious smile as he turned off the water and wrapped himself in a towel.

Quentin towelled his hair dry and smiled as well, "We're going to need a plan."

"We're going to need several," Connor chuckled.

The next day at breakfast, Connor was smiling as Rupert found that someone had performed a permanent sticking charm on his shoes while he ate.

Connor wasn't there when the dung bombs in Rupert's schoolbag exploded during the first class of the day, but he knew that Rupert would get the message, just the same.

At lunchtime, Rupert arrived, hopping uncontrollably on one foot, much to the delight of the other students.

Connor's personal favourite, though, was when one of Rupert's best friends sat across from him at the Slytherin table and asked, "Rupert, what's going on?"

Rupert's reply to that was, "I'm a girl!"

The laughter at the Gryffindor table didn't die down for ten minutes.

The next day at breakfast, Rupert's friends sat a bit further away from him than usual, clearly not wanting to be an unintended victim of whoever was tormenting their friend.

For the rest of the day, Rupert was beset by mysterious ailments as Connor and his friends (along with an enthusiastic Aiden) took every opportunity to sprinkle him with itching powder or jinx him with hiccups, jelly legs, and pink hair.

Connor was careful to be out of sight whenever Rupert began to show signs of being hexed or pranked. However, Rupert seemed to be in no doubt as to what was happening to him. Connor narrowly avoided one or two attempts by Rupert to pull pranks on him in the corridors or at meals, but all in all felt confident that Rupert was learning his lesson.

"Amateur," Aiden Weasley had said in mild disgust on the third day, upon discovering an unexploded dung bomb in the hood of Connor's cloak after Rupert had passed them. "It's almost not even fun anymore if that's the best he can do."

On the fourth day, Rachel got a delivery from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes containing a powder to turn any drink into a Bleaching Beverage. It was entirely scent-free, but tasted horrible. However, the tiniest amount on the tongue was enough for the prank to work. And so it was that on the fourth day of the Let's Teach Rupert A Lesson campaign, Rupert attended all of his classes as an albino.

Professor Lupin returned from his trip on the fifth day of hostilities, which happened to be a Saturday. Connor ran into him in the entrance hall just after breakfast, and stopped to speak with him.

"How was your trip?" Connor asked Lupin.

"Disappointing," Lupin answered. "But I didn't hold out much hope, anyway.'

"Where did you go?" Connor asked.

"Romania," Lupin said. "There was a professor there with some interesting theories about Lycanthropy. I went there to assist him in an experiment, but they proved to be flawed."

"You weren't hurt, were you?" Connor asked, alarmed.

"No, no. Nothing like that," Lupin assured him. "It was all perfectly safe. Nothing for you to worry about at all."

Connor was about to press for details about the experiment, when Professor Snape interrupted them.

"I see you've returned, Lupin," Snape said abruptly. "Was your trip fruitful?"

"I'm afraid not," Lupin said pleasantly.

"Pity," Snape said, though he didn't sound the least bit sorry. "Now that you've returned, maybe you can get the students in your house under control."

He looked directly at Connor when he said this, and Connor tried to keep his features bland. He looked over the Potion Master's shoulder, careful not to make eye contact.

"Has there been a problem?" Lupin asked with raised eyebrows. "The Headmistress didn't indicate that there had been any problems in my absence."

"One of my first years, Rupert Dursley," Snape said, still looking more at Connor than at Lupin, "has been beset by numerous hexes, jinxes and pranks of late."

"Oh?" Lupin asked, obviously feigning concern. "And you've proof that a Gryffindor is responsible?"

"A Gryffindor is responsible," Snape said with a glare at Connor. "Or several, I should say."

"You've caught my students attacking one of your own?" Lupin asked, looking between Connor and Snape shrewdly.

"Not yet," Snape admitted sourly. "Though I know who the guilty parties are. I would suggest you have a word with your students and make them understand what fate awaits them should I actually find proof of their complicity in the attacks against my student."

"Of course, Severus," Lupin said agreeably. "I will be sure to make inquiries of my students, and remind them of the consequences of bullying others."

Severus growled, "See that you do," before glaring at Connor for a moment longer, then departing.

As soon as he was out of sight, Lupin simply raised an eyebrow in question at Connor.

"I think Rupert's just not very popular, Uncle Remus," Connor had said by way of explanation for the unspoken question.

"I'm sure that he's not," Lupin replied smoothly. "But I would hate to see any of my Gryffindors expelled from the Quidditch team, or even from classes, for bullying a student obviously unable to defend himself against malicious attacks. Not to mention the detentions those students would receive from both Professor Snape and myself should the culprits be brought to light."

Connor swallowed and nodded in understanding. Perhaps they had carried Rupert's punishment a bit far. Rupert had endangered Connor's place on the Quidditch team; but now it was Connor that was putting himself in danger by continuing to punish Rupert, and risking being caught.

He would have to tell the others tonight to leave Rupert alone for now.

"Now, I have heard, from a reliable source, that you had some trouble with your Occlumency while I was away.

"Whiney told you about the Ravenclaw match, huh?" Connor guessed astutely.

"Hmmm," Lupin answered vaguely. "Why don't you tell me about it while we walk to my office."

They began walking, and Connor understood that Whitney had probably asked Lupin not to tell Connor that she had interfered.

Connor explained about his inability to remain in the stadium, and his need to retreat to the quiet of the castle for a while.

"Well if you practiced Occlumency that morning, just a couple of hours before the match - that's bit troubling," Lupin said thoughtfully

"I'm worried about it, too," Connor admitted. "We've got a match a little over a week after Halloween, and I can't have a problem like that if I want to play."

"I'm afraid the best I can do is to meet with you just before the match and go through your Occlumency with you. Maybe practicing it right before you play will keep you strong enough to withstand the distractions," Lupin offered as they reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts office.

"I'll take what I can get," Connor said ruefully. "Otherwise, I'll have to resign my spot on the team."

Lupin stopped outside of his office door, and promised Connor that he would be available to through the Occlumency with him just before the game, so that his mind would be as clear as possible with the match began.

Connor didn't miss the fact that when Lupin opened his office door, Ms Grayson was waiting inside the office, and was smiling at the professor.

As Connor was heading back to his common room, a nagging little voice in the back of Connor's mind reminded him of Ivy's insistence that Lupin and Ms Grayson had been on a date during the last Hogsmeade visit.