Blood (thicker than) Water (but what about) Lemonade?

Sabbats and Secrets

"Close your eyes, Avril. Breath slowly, relax."

Avril closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and waited.

Professor Dumbledore produced a small, white, down feather. "Open," he said, and showed her the feather.

"Take a good look at this. Memorize every feature. Every fiber," Dumbledore ordered, and Avril took it. She felt the softness of the down, observed the white color and black speckles, lightly touched the tip of the tiny quill.

"OK," Avril breathed nervously, handing the feather back.

Dumbledore held out his hand with long, slender fingers, the palm wrinkled with age.

"Now see my hand," he instructed softly, waving it gently in the air in front of Avril's face.

Avril studied the hand carefully, trying to memorize every crease in the palm. She exhaled again. "OK."

Professor Dumbledore held his hand out flat and placed the feather in his outstretched palm. "Avril, I'd like you close your eyes again and visualize the feather on my hand. Try to see every detail you've stored in your mind from the last five moments."

Avril nodded and closed her eyes. She attempted to envision the tiny, spotted feather resting on Dumbledore's aged palm.

"All right," she said once she was able to see every detail of the feather and hand.

"Now, slowly attempt to visualize the feather rising from my hand. Slowly!" he reminded Avril when her eyes screwed shut tightly.

Avril concentrated every fiber of her being on moving the feather. After a few moments, she watched, amazed as the white and black down began to stir. Then, trying so hard it hurt, Avril focused her mind on lifting the feather off of the hand. For about five minutes, she converged her whole mentality on the feather. The most it did was glide along the palm as if someone were blowing on it. Inside her mind, Avril saw the feather lifting, and lifting over again. Dumbledore watched with concern, as she bit her lip with frustration.

"That's enough, Avril," he said gently, waking Avril. She opened her eyes and saw the feather balancing at the tip of Dumbledore's finger. "Did- did I move it?" she asked anxiously, eyeing the feather.

Dumbledore smiled. "Indeed, you sent it across my hand. You've done very well for your first Sabbat, Avril."

Avril looked furious. "But did it rise?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Do not expect miracles, Avril. The trick to being a skilled Lamia is setting your standards a little higher than you expect until you have complete control. To be entirely truthful, I did not even expect you to be able to move the feather. You should be very satisfied with yourself."

Avril only nodded and stood. "Well, thank-you, Professor. I'm going to go up to bed now."

She stooped down low to pick up her shoulder bag, and hoisted it over her shoulder. "See you next Friday," she sighed.
Dumbledore nodded politely. The girl expected too much of herself. She expected prodigies and nothing less. It was an admirable way to act, but in some instances, harmful to one's self-esteem. She was an intelligent child, she just didn't know when to let herself rest.

Avril left Dumbledore's office, but instead of heading up the staircase toward the Gryffindor tower, she turned down the stone steps into the dungeons corridor. For some reason, she felt obliged to tell her uncle about her first Sabbat. Shivering slightly from the constant cold of the underground passage, Avril made her way to Snape's dormitory.

"Polyjuice," she said the password, and the wall slid open, revealing the door to his living quarters. Avril opened the door and went inside. It was funny, she thought, looking around, she didn't remember it being this cold when she had arrived. Must be because I'm used to being in a warm common room, Avril thought to herself. "Uncle Severus?" she said, looking around the one room living space. She opened her own bedroom door. Not there. She knocked tentatively on the bathroom door, and there was no answer. Oh well, she thought, if he's not here, I'll just tell him about it tomorrow. Then, she stopped. What if he was in his room and hadn't heard her? She knocked on his bedroom door. No answer. Avril knocked a little louder this time, her knuckles numb from the cold. Carefully, she pushed the door open, and peered inside.

"Avril!" Snape's voice made her jump. She spun around, leaving the door ajar. Snape had just entered the dormitory, as the wall slid closed behind him, though the door stayed open. He stood before her, anger etched on his pale, gaunt face. Avril swallowed hard; having the slightest inclination that she was in trouble.

"What are you doing?" Snape snarled, striding past her and slamming the bedroom door. Avril stood motionless, stunned and confused. "I, I," she tried, but her words failed her. She had never seen Snape so furious. Now, his anger in potions a few weeks ago seemed like light irritation.

"You what?" Snape rounded on her, his face contorted with fear and anger.

Avril backed away a few steps, staring at him. "I was just looking for you. I... Never mind," she said, watching him carefully and leaving the room as quickly as she could (while trying to stay calm at the same time).

Snape didn't try to stop her. In fact, he watched her go, feeling his heart pounding fast. That had been too close. It wasn't usually that big of a deal, as a lot of people knew about his... past, but somehow, it was different with Avril. If she didn't already know, Snape was ready to hide it from her forever. No matter how many times Dumbledore and McGonagall told him to talk to her, Snape couldn't bring himself to tell Avril that he had worked against his own twin... her mother. It was too hard. No, he wouldn't be telling her. Not today, anyway.

Avril hurried along the corridors, trying to work out what had just happened. True, she had almost gone into his bedroom, but what was so secret that he felt it necessary to explode like that? He was hiding something, she was sure of it.

Stop! she told herself, don't think like that. It's none of your business. Butt out.

Trying desperately to block further suspicions of her uncle from her mind, Avril took a few shortcuts along hidden passageways that were usually only used by Neville, as he was always late.

When she climbed through the portrait hole, Avril was met by a warm, friendly and happy atmosphere. Almost everyone in Gryffindor was in the common room, either playing cards or chess, reading, or talking. There was the odd person doing homework, however, and that's where Avril spotted Hermione. She was in a secluded corner, pouring over her study books. Harry and Ron were nearby, both leaning intently over a chessboard.

"Hey!" Ron greeted her, taking Harry's queen at the exact same time, "how was your 'Sabbat'?"

Avril managed a smile, her thoughts still a little muddled from the events in the last half-hour. "All right, I guess," she replied, taking a seat beside Hermione, "different. Harder than I thought it would be," she added.

Hermione looked up from her books and smiled. "Don't worry, being a Lamia isn't exactly easy. Learning to control your powers is going to take some time."

Avril shrugged, and Harry could see that something else was on her mind. He lost to Ron and was almost immediately replaced be Hermione, who was eager to show Ron up from his last victory over her.

Harry took her seat beside Avril and waited until his two best friends were arguing over a move Hermione had made before leaning towards Avril. "What's up?" he asked her, peering into her blue-gray eyes with concern.

Avril shrugged uncomfortably. She gazed back at Harry, and found a sort of comfort in his gaze. Quietly, as if everyone in the room were listening, Avril told him about the lesson which, in her opinion, had gone horribly. Then, even quieter this time, she told him about afterwards, when Snape had caught her looking for him. Harry's brow furrowed especially when she told him this, and she could see him thinking hard. Ron executed Hermione's king with a particularly spectacular checkmate and convinced a reluctant Avril to contend against his old, battered and totally loyal chess players.

About halfway through the game, when the common room was beginning to quiet, Pigwidgeon shot through the open window and landed on the back of Avril's chair. Quickly, Ron, Harry and Hermione stood up. "Oh look Ron," Avril said, reaching for the piece of parchment tied to Pigwidgeon's leg, "Pigwidgeon's got a letter."

Ron snatched his tiny owl up before Avril could touch him and gave Harry a meaningful look.

"Er, I think I'll go to bed," said Harry, avoiding Avril's eyes, "night."

Ron joined him, Pigwidgeon clenched tight in his fist, and the two began to climb the spiral staircase up to their dormitories. Hermione watched them go, anxiously chewing her lip.

Avril sat down beside her and gave her friend a puzzled look. "What was that about?" she asked, her eyes boring into Hermione's.

Hermione's eyes scanned the top of the table, obviously looking for an excuse. "Er, I don't know," she said quietly, gathering her books into her arms. "I think I'm going to go to bed now. I've done all the homework I can for the night."

And she left as well, leaving Avril sitting alone at the table. What was going on? Why all the conspiracy? First Snape and now them? With a heavy sigh, Avril grabbed her bag and climbed the stairs after Hermione.

*****

The next morning, Halloween, Avril woke up (Crookshanks draped over her neck like a scarf), and found that Hermione had already gone down for breakfast. She dressed in her school robe, ran a brush through her hair and teeth (not the same one) and headed downstairs to eat.

She found Hermione, Harry and Ron sitting off to the edge of the Gryffindor table, heads bent low over a piece of parchment and speaking in hushed voices.

As Avril approached, she managed to catch a few words.

"I still can't believe it-"

"I can. It makes sense, you know, first that Delacour woman and now-"

"But he doesn't even trust me to take care of myself anymore-"

"Honestly Harry, he's worried. Everyone is. You should be too. You Know Who's out there, and we have no idea where he is or what he's doing. He could be here for all we know."

Ron suddenly jumped. "Don't say that!" he hissed angrily. "Do you know the panic you could cause by mentioning something like that? Besides, Harry, you should definitely listen to-

Harry suddenly stood up. "You know what?" he said angrily, shoving the parchment into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "It's none of your business! It's none of his business! Why don't you all stop mothering me and let me take care of myself? I'm sick of everyone telling me where I can and can't go, and what I should and shouldn't do!"

Hermione and Ron stared at Harry from their seats, mouths slightly open. Avril stood in the doorway, a few feet away, staring too. She hadn't heard the whole conversation, but knew instantly (by the parchment on the table) that this was connected to the letter that Pigwidgeon had delivered last night. Avril watched Harry storm away from Ron and Hermione. He passed her, narrowly missing her shoulder with his bag. Avril, Ron and Hermione, who looked close to tears, stared at each other for a minute. Avril then gave a small, understanding nod, turned slowly and went after Harry.

"Harry, wait. Harry!"

Harry kept walking, his bag bumping his shoulder as he walked. Avril followed him down a few corridors and saw him sit at the base of a suit of armor. He took his bag off and shoved it angrily between his feet.

Avril slowed down and walked up to him.

"Hey," she said, "is this seat taken?"

Harry looked up at her as if seeing her for the first time and shook his head.

Avril dropped down next to him and propped her head up with her hands.

"So... What's with that whole scene in the Hall? I mean, I know the eggs are bad, but..."

"Those guys," Harry growled, not looking at her, "they think they know everything."

Avril nodded slowly, watching him carefully. "Ah, so this it's the classic 'fight for independence' thing we're talking here, am I right?"

Harry shrugged, still avoiding her eyes. "I'm fifteen! I know how to look after myself, and no one believes me," Harry muttered.

Avril patted his arm sympathetically. "I don't want to seem like another silly person that cares too much about you," Avril said sarcastically, while Harry looked up in surprise, "but it seems to me that the only reason everyone's mothering you is because you're such a good person. They don't want anything to happen to you. Besides, would you rather have your best friends worry about you and try to protect you? Or be alone with no one to help you when you need it? Think about how many times they've helped you out in the past. Where would you be if they hadn't?"

Harry didn't reply. Avril had a major point. The Chamber where the Stone was hidden... He would probably still be down there if Hermione and Ron hadn't been there. The Tournament last year... They helped him learn all the different spells needed to pass the tasks. He'd more than likely be dead if it weren't for them. But still...

"I just wish they'd let me take care of my own life once and awhile, that's all. Just because I got a scar on my forehead when I was one, everybody thinks I'm a little kid," he muttered, moving his arm away from her.

Avril smiled. "You don't see them force feeding you vegetables and dressing you, do you? It's just when it comes down to the important stuff, they want to be behind you all the way... Like now, with You Know Who. That's the time you really need friends anyway."

Harry sighed. Damn. She had another point. Avril, smiling, looked down at her feet. Harry dared to glance at her, fearing a triumphant smirk waiting for him, but instead saw something else.

He saw someone who understood his problem more than he did. She understood his wanting to be independent, but also saw the other side. She saw the sequestered gratitude he felt for no longer being alone; he was glad beyond words to have a real family. Avril made him realize that.

Just when Harry was thinking that he had really dug himself in deep with his friends this time, Hermione and Ron appeared around the corner. "Come on!" Ron shouted from down the hall. "We're going to be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

Avril nodded to them and stood up. "Personally," she said, looking down at Harry, who was still sitting at the base of the armor, "I think you've got it pretty sweet. Real friends that actually care are hard to come by these days."

She picked up her own bag and began to walk away. Harry stared after her, entranced. Halfway away, Avril turned and caught Harry's gaze before he could look away.

"Er, coming?" she asked, slightly taken aback.

Harry stood quickly and ran to catch up.

They rejoined their friends who looked a little embarrassed around Harry, and made their way to their first class.

They entered the class as the bell rang. Ron immediately sat in the desk at the front of the class, and Hermione, going red, followed. Harry looked at Avril, who shrugged and sat down by her usual seat.

It was the same every Defense class. Ron would sit as close to Fleur as possible, and Hermione would insist on sitting beside him to 'make sure he learned something' as she told Avril. Avril and Harry would then take their usual seats by the window and try not to laugh every time Hermione nudged Ron angrily for staring too much.

"Settle down, please," Professor Delacour said, standing at the front of the class and smiling widely- rare for her.

"For ze next week or two, we will be practicing self defense by studying dueling techniques and finally, 'aving an official duel. So please take out your text books and turn to page sixteen. Now, 'oo can tell me a way to defend yourself in a duel?"

Ron's hand shot up into the air, knocking Hermione's as it went.

"Meester Weasley?"

Ron lowered his hand. "Er, the spell Expelliarmus?" he said in a very high and strained voice.

Fleur Delacour looked thoughtful. "Eet ees true, you can defend yourself in a duel by using ze Expelliarmus Charm, but I was zinking more along ze lines of a blocking charm."

This time, Hermione's hand made it into the air without getting smacked aside.

"The Shield Charm," she said affirmatively.

"Excellent, five points to Gryffindor," Fleur said. "'oo else? Zer are many, many different charms, but I am 'oping you can name at least three eemportant ones."

No one but Hermione raised their hands.

"No one but Mees Granger?" Professor Delacour asked, surprised, "well, I suppose we need to copy definitions. Please turn to page five 'undred and seexty seex. Zen, copy down ze zree definitions at ze top of ze page."

Avril turned the page and held her quill above the parchment spread out on the other page. The class was quiet as they read.

There are many ways to defend one's self in a duel between wizards. Some particularly useful ones are as follows:

Shield Charm: Shieldus Detrimentus is mainly used when one is threatened by a direct hex or charm threatening his/her body parts. The Shield Charm is less effective when cast against a hex or charm that threatens one's mind or nerves.

Lucidity Spell: Lucidim Detrimentus is cast when one's own mind and nerve is threatened. The spell forms a protective barrier around one's subconscious, therefore shielding them from mind-controlling hexes and curses. This spell is particularly useful for the Imperius Curse.

Trapping Charm: Enmeshus Detrimentus will catch a curse, hex or spell and hold it in the defender's wand until the time is right to empty it. Emptying of ensnared spells can be done with a simple release charm, or by use of a possession dish.

11

Memories

After Defense, the Gryffindors made their way down to Transfiguration. This would be the last class for the day. The rest of the day would be spent in Hogsmeade. The prospect of spending the sunny, though chilly afternoon in the village, purchasing candy at the sweet shop and dungbombs at Zonko's made it very difficult to concentrate on wand movements.

Finally, when the bell rang and the morning classes ended, the halls of Hogwarts were filled with students racing to fetch cloaks and money bags.

"All right, I'm going to need a new bag of dungbombs-"

"I'm buying a box of Ice Mice-"

"Can't wait to taste Butterbeer again-"

Harry, Ron, Avril and Hermione practically skipped into Hogsmeade, eager to show Avril everything from Gladrags to the Shrieking Shack.

Once the tour of the village was complete, and they had all paid a visit to Honeydukes, Harry and Ron mentioned needing to restock their joke supplies while Avril and Hermione wanted to go to Gladrags for some shopping.

"Let's meet in an hour for a butterbeer, shall we?" Hermione called to the boys' retreating backs.

Ron waved over his shoulder in answer.

Hermione and Avril spent most of their time in Gladrags' wizard wear shop, trying on hats and admiring dress robes

"Well, we've about a half hour left," Hermione said, after hanging a glittering red set of dress robes back on the rack. "What do you want to do now?"

Avril pulled a roll of parchment out of her robes pocket. "Well," she gazed wistfully at the post office, "I do have a letter..."

Hermione explained how the post office worked and Avril purchased an over seas eagle owl to take her carefully composed letter to Mrs. Walker. She hadn't written to her at all, as she hadn't visited Hogsmeade yet, and felt it wrong to borrow a school owl for such a long trip. Mrs. Walker was currently staying with her daughter Patricia.

Dear Mrs. Walker,

Sorry I haven't written, but the journey would be a little much for Athena and this is my first time to Hogsmeade. Things at Hogwarts have been anything but ordinary, and I have so much I want to tell you...

It had taken Avril weeks to include every detail. She told Mrs. Walker about Hogwarts and its beautiful grounds. She mentioned Hagrid and her other teachers, including Dumbledore. She described Snape and his disagreeable reputation with the other students. She told about how he hated her new friends and didn't approve of them being together. This led to depicting Harry, Ron and Hermione and their welcoming friendship towards her. She also saw fit to inform Mrs. Walker of her making the Quidditch team.

It was with a slightly different style of writing (faster, as she was more excited) that Avril told Mrs. Walker about her being a Lamia. Such an explanation took up almost a whole new roll of parchment as Avril described every detail of her first Sabbat.

... Dumbledore's teaching me. I guess I feel all right about this, as it isn't easy being different from everyone in the school, but my friend Harry made me feel better by telling me that he was a Parseltongue. But don't worry; he's a very nice person. In fact, he's Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Isn't that cool? Anyway, back to my Sabbat. I made a small down feather glide across Professor Dumbledore's hand yesterday. I wanted it to rise or fly or something, but he said that it was very good for my first try. He's also given me a ton of books on Lamia's and a study on their minds to refer to. It's really hard to keep up with my homework what with all the extra stuff the Headmaster's given me, and Quidditch practice on top of that. Luckily, my other friend Hermione is very, very smart. She keeps me competitive and motivated. Ron helps me too. He and I joke around all the time. It makes me relax. So I guess you can say that I'm doing all right out here, but that doesn't mean I don't miss you and Mom and Dad. I think about you all the time. Them too. Uncle Severus doesn't like to talk about Mom and Dad, so I don't really have anyone who can listen. Well, there is Harry. His parents have died too, so I suppose if I reeally wanted to I could talk to him about it, but he doesn't strike me as one who would want to try and remember someone he hasn't seen since he was one...

Avril decided to drop off of Harry a bit, as she didn't want Mrs. Walker getting the wrong idea. Instead she described the night of her Sabbat, and the time when Snape caught her peeking into his bedroom.

...I can't help but wonder if he has something to hide. I understand that he might just want a little privacy, and that it isn't any of my business, but honestly- he really blew up at me. Don't worry- I won't do any snooping. I was just wondering one thing. Did he and Dad have some sort of dispute with each other? I'm asking because whenever I mention Dad, Uncle Severus makes a weird sort of face- like he's just tasted something horrible. I haven't the foggiest idea why he might not like Dad, but then again, Uncle Severus isn't exactly a sociable person. He's also really reluctant to talk about his past. Even his childhood. I just couldn't help but remember that Mom was the same way. Am I being too nosy? I hope not. Anyway, this letter is getting very long, and they charge by the pound here at the post office.

If you could write back I would really appreciate it. I would love to hear from you. The first Gryffindor Quidditch game is on November twentieth, so I'll write back after that and tell you whether we won or not.

Say hello to Patricia for me.

Love always,

Avril

Avril tied the heavy roll of parchment to the leg of the owl and paid five galleons, six sickles and twelve knuts for the service. She and Hermione watched the large eagle owl fly up and out of sight, hardly noticing the heavy burden it was bound to.

As Avril watched it fly, her thoughts drifted back to BC itself.

She was turning six that day. Her hair had been shorter then: cropped just underneath her chin, and she had been small and skinny. Her eyes were green at the present time, though they were still liable to change, along with her mood.

Ray and Sydney had been away on a mission, and she and Mrs. Walker were making a cake for Avril's birthday party that was scheduled to take place when they returned later that night.

She'd been so excited about the prospect of her birthday, combined with her parents' expected arrival, she was bouncing around the kitchen, her bright green eyes shining.

"Avril! Sweetie!" Mrs. Walker cried, stopping her from slipping on the slippery waxed floor. "Settle down! Your parents aren't due home for another few hours, and your birthday isn't going anywhere. Why don't you sit down, sit, And I'll see if I can't scrounge up an early present for you."

Mrs. Walker bustled away, leaving Avril squirming in excitement in a chair. While waiting, Avril looked around the large, gleaming kitchen. It was filled with sights and smells guaranteed to drive a small child wild. Avril hadn't been sitting for ten seconds when she saw, sitting atop the counter, waiting to be set in the baking pans, a bowl of Aunt Majorette's Magical Cake Mix. It was a special type of magical mix; it flashed different colours. Overcome by the natural desire possessed by all small children to take a fingerful of the transcendent looking cake mix, Avril slid off her chair and toddled toward the counter. Standing on her tiptoes, Avril still couldn't reach the bowl. So, she began to jump up. And down. And up again. Her arms stretched up as far as they could go, Avril continued to jump up and down. Finally, she jumped up, and managed to get a hold of the edge of the bowl. Unfortunately, according to the law of gravity, what goes up must come down. If the object that is up happens to be clutching the edge of a bowl full of thick, sticky cake mix, well...

"Avril?" Hermione's voice broke into her memory and made her jolt. Harry and Ron had come up to them, on their way to the Three Broomsticks. They were now standing nervously off to the side.

"What?" she blurted, waking from her stupor. She noticed that tears were splattered on her cheeks.

She hadn't felt them before.

Hermione was peering, concerned, into her eyes. "Are you alright?"

Avril turned away and wiped her eyes. "I'm fine," she muttered. "I'm fine."

Hermione frowned curiously. "You- you looked kind of upset."

Avril shivered and drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "I said I was fine," she snapped. They shouldn't have to worry, she thought angrily to herself. They don't want to hear about your stupid sob stories. If you want to keep your friends you'd better stop bawling.

It was Ron who broke the awkward silence.

"Shall we go to the Three Broomsticks now then?" he asked somewhat cheerfully. Hermione was always trying to force people to talk about their feelings- he and Harry in particular. From what Ron could see Avril had absolutely no desire to share what had been going on in her head for the last few moments, and that was her prerogative.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, her eyes still fixed on Avril's dark gray ones, but Ron stepped on her foot.

"I know I could use a butterbeer," Harry said, "Avril, you?"

Avril forced a smile and nodded. "I could too."

The four then crossed the road to the Three Broomsticks and went inside. Hermione hurried off to get the drinks, leaving Avril with Ron and Harry. They both tried hard not to look at her, but they couldn't help wonder what she really had been thinking. Harry had the slightest inkling that it had been about her parents, as he knew well (thanks to the Dementors) what it was like to remember them, then wake up crying.

Avril glanced up at them, not thinking she could bear the uncomfortable silence a moment longer. "Hey, watch," she said, taking a packet of sugar from a tray in the middle of the table. She placed it on the table in front of her and studied it carefully. Ok, she thought fiercely, you've got to do this right. Think. Think hard.

She closed her eyes, and, remembering every step of her training, willed the sugar packet to rise from the table. It was somehow far less difficult. The table was smooth and dark, and the packet was paper, white, and read Sorcerer's Sugar. The description part of it was very simple.

Harry and Ron watched, amazed, as Avril, with her eyes closed, chewing her lower lip, made the sugar packet slide around the table. It was sliding fast as well, as the table was very smooth and slick.

Hermione sat down and handed out the drinks, oblivious to the sugar packet sliding around the table. "What's going on?" she asked at the looks of amazement on Harry and Ron's faces. Harry pointed to the sugar packet, and then at Avril, who looked as if she were concentrating very, very hard.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped.

Avril watched inside her mind the packet rise and drop. She did it repeatedly, and finally, when she couldn't bear to think that hard any longer opened her eyes. The packet stopped moving.

"Did- did it rise?" she asked hopefully.

Her three friends shook their heads, and she looked furious.

"But it was-" Hermione began, her face shining.

"Don't tell me it was a very good try," Avril interrupted, taking a sip of butterbeer. "This stuff is really good."

They drank in silence for awhile, until Harry grabbed another sugar packet and dropped it in front of Avril. "Why don't you try it with your eyes open," he suggested.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's a lot more complicated than that, Harry," she scoffed, but Avril smiled thoughtfully. "I didn't think of that," she said. "I was just following Dumbledore's instructions."

She fixed her eyes on the sugar packet and thought this is a good idea. This way, I don't have to picture every little detail. I just have to will it to rise up.

She reduced her eyes to slits and refused to take them off of the packet. Rise, she told it fiercely, rise up.

The packet began to tremble.

Rise up.

It shook like mad.

Rise.

Then, slowly, shaking, the packet rose a few centimeters off the table and dropped down again.

Harry, Ron and Hermione cheered.

Avril sat back, exhausted.

For the next half hour or so, they amused themselves by watching Avril try to lift various things.

By the time they had all drained the last of their butterbeer from their tankards, the leaky cauldron was almost empty.

"Better get back," Harry said, checking his watch, "the feast starts in about fifteen minutes." They grabbed their bags of sweets, clothes and dungbombs, the four left the almost empty tavern. They hurried down the streets of Hogsmeade. They were almost empty too, and it was chilly, so Harry, Ron, Avril and Hermione were very glad to stumble through the doors of Hogwarts at five minutes to.

"Quick!" Ron gasped, wheezing and trying to catch his breath. "We're going to miss the entertainment!"

Through the doors, they could hear shrieks and screaming and knew that the feast was being enjoyed by all. The Halloween feast always had some sort of show.

Avril was first to open the door. She stepped inside and shrieked as she came face to face with a masked Death Eater.