The Next Dance

THE NEXT DANCE

BY AERIE22

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE LOO

Harry stared down at Draco. "I didn't have anything to do with what happened to you," he said quietly but firmly.

Draco brought up a blood-stained handkerchief to his ravaged face and spit into. Then he turned his good eye toward Harry. "If you and your whore had the decency to die out there, my mother would still be alive," he muttered in a muffled tone.

A wave of fury passed through Harry, but it was gone quickly.

Draco felt the chill and winced, then winced again as he felt a new twinge of pain in his broken jaw.

"You're all alone now, Malfoy," he whispered harshly. "You've got nothing. And now you're going to know what 'nothing' feels like. But you've got nothing to fear from me, as long as you leave us alone."

Draco tilted his head. "And you're going to protect me, I suppose."

Harry shook his head sadly. "I'll just make sure that none of my friends bother you. I just hope you have enough sense to return the favor."

Malfoy continued to stare through his good eye. "A take no favors from you."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Sleep well, Malfoy. You have nothing to fear from me. That just leaves everyone else for you to watch out for."

* * *

It was 7:15 am when Harry awoke to a commotion.

"Miss Patil, you can't come in here," Mercy pleaded.

Parvati simply strode past the nurse.

"No visitors. Madam Pomfrey's orders."

Parvati simply ignored Mercy and approached Harry with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

Harry chuckled and smiled fondly at her. "Right now, I feel like that one-eyed, hump-backed witch up on the third floor."

Parvati laughed. "You mean the one you use when you want to sneak out?"

Harry smiled, then made a face and motioned with his head.

Parvati turned to have her look met by an annoyed Madam Pomfrey, who was standing there, hands on her hips. "Miss Patil. If you insist on taking after your rowdy brothers, rather than your sisters, I must then insist you either stop seeing Mister Potter or find some way to keep him out of my hospital wing," she scolded, with a hint of a smile.

Parvati tried to look contrite, but the two women had difficulty keeping from smiling.

Finally, Pomfrey threw up her hands, and began removing the immobilizing spell on Harry's shoulder. "Well, sit. I'll take a quick look at your gentleman friend here, and then, if everything looks right, you can drag his sorry carcass out of here."

Harry chuckled. "Hey, what happened to bedside manner?" he complained with a smile.

Pomfrey looked down her nose at him as she palpated his shoulder a little rougher than he would have liked. "You used up your allotment of my bedside manner by your third year, Mister Potter," she said in a scolding manner. She pulled Harry's arm above horizontal. "Does that hurt?"

Harry shrugged. "A little. Not much."

Pomfrey nodded. "And this?" she asked as she yanked his arm higher.

Harry felt another twinge. He shrugged.

Pomfrey probed under his armpit, causing him to giggle a little. "Tell me, Mr. Potter. If I were to cut your arm off and ask you if it hurt, would you admit it?"

Harry looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "Is that the next part of the examination?" he said with a smirk.

Pomfrey looked down at him. "Miss Patil. Kindly remove this individual from the hospital wing," she said in an arch tone. "He is causing a disturbance."

With that, Pomfrey bustled back to the enclosed bed where Draco was resting.

Harry pulled on his oversized and stained rugby jersey, which had been cleaned overnight. He sighed and looked over at Parvati with a smile. "Let's go."

* * *

Harry looked with annoyance at the crowd that had gathered around him in the common room.

"Is it true that they broke his nose?" George asked with a wide-eyed grin.

"Who did it?" Ron asked enthusiastically. "I think I've got a new hero."

"So it's open season on ferrets?" Fred added.

"Stop it!" Harry cried. He looked at the group around him. Hermione was looking shocked, and Parvati was looking thoughtful. But most of the rest of the group were grinning or wore self-satisfied expressions.

He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't see him. I did. He wasn't just popped in the nose. Someone gave him a savage beating. Nobody deserves the kind of beating he took."

Ron scowled. "If anyone does, he does," he growled.

Harry snapped his head in Ron's direction. "Why? Because he makes fun of you? He only does it because it gets a rise out of you. He knows how thin-skinned you can be. But that doesn't justify someone trying to beat him nearly to death."

Ron had the good grace to blush.

Harry looked at the group. "I told him that he didn't have anything to fear from me...from us. I don't think any of us had anything to do with it. At least I hope not. But from now on, I'm asking you to keep your distance from him."

Harry saw frowns from several of his housemates. "Listen, he's all alone now. No friends. Nobody to talk to. He's in hell right now. So leave him there. If anything else happens to him, I don't want any fingers pointing at us."

"You want us to take him up to the Astronomy Tower for a snog, too?" said Dan Turley with a sneer.

Fred guffawed. "No, Dan. You'd probably end up with the broken nose, not Malfoy."

The crowd chuckled, recalling how Parvati had broken Turley's nose last year.

Harry waited for the chuckling to subside, watching Turley stalk off. "No. No need to be Malfoy's pal. I won't be holding hands with him any time soon..."

"You better not," Parvati exclaimed to everyone's laughter.

Harry smiled, and again looked over the group. "Just leave him be. Okay?"

There were nods around the group.

Harry was about to go up to his dorm to wash up for breakfast when he was stopped by Samantha Bauman and Pat McGrady, two of his firsties. "Harry, did they catch the guy who did it?" Sam asked with a concerned look.

Harry shrugged. "Malfoy won't say what happened. I don't know much else."

McGrady frowned. "So this guy is still out there?"

Harry blinked. Suddenly it hit him. His firsties were scared. And probably a lot of others. Malfoy wasn't that big, but he was fit and fast and good with his wand and was a fifth year. Whoever beat him had to be strong and fast, or may have ambushed him. The firsties were right to be worried.

He took a deep breath. "Listen, the professors and staff are going to be on alert for the next couple days. I'm sure they'll catch whoever did this. But if it makes you feel any better, I can help you all out on some defensive spells. I'm pretty good in DADA and I can give you a few tips." He paused. "Not tonight. I've got a prefects meeting this afternoon and I'm already at least a couple days behind on my homework. And tomorrow's a patrol day for me. Maybe Friday afternoon, before Hogsmeade, or over the weekend. Okay?"

Sam smiled at him and Pat nodded.

"Right," Harry said with a smile. "Time for breakfast."

* * *

Classes were subdued for most of the day. Rumors circulated throughout the school about Malfoy's injuries ranging from a Death Eater attack to a failed suicide attempt. But otherwise, the only thing out of the ordinary for Harry was when Parvati and Lavender suddenly disappeared on the way to the library for a study period before their Charms class. When Harry asked them what happened after they reappeared, they just shrugged. "Girl stuff," they responded.

It had been a long and emotional day for Harry, starting off in the hospital wing with visions of Malfoy's ravaged face and later confronting his housemates over their future treatment of Malfoy. And it promised to be an even longer evening, with a prefects' meeting followed by enough homework to keep him busy all evening. All Harry wanted was a hot shower and a change of clothes. He trudged slowly up to his dorm.

As he sat on his bed, wishing he could simply take a nap now, he reached down and flipped the lid of his trunk open and stared. Almost all his clothes were gone.

He began digging frantically through the trunk, spilling half of its contents on the floor. His robes and uniform clothes were there, along with his underwear, a couple sport shirts and some sweaters bought by the Strowbridges over the summer. But his sweatshirts, flannel shirts, his beloved running shoes and the T-shirts his Muggle friends had given him for his birthday were all gone.

A sudden noise started him. "Dean? Where are my clothes?"

Dean, who had just walked in from the loo, shrugged. Then a small smile played across his face. "Ask your lady and her partner in crime. Seamus and I saw them sneaking around when we were skiving off study period."

Harry lowered his head, his temper rising. Suddenly he got up and stormed down to the common room. Then he saw Parvati and Lavender leaning against each other with mischievous smiles on their faces. Suddenly Parvati looked up at him and her smile slowly faded.

"I am going to a prefects meeting. If the thieves who took my clothes do not return them by the time I come back, it's over for good," he growled, and stormed out of the common room.

* * *

The prefects meeting was a subdued affair. Malfoy was, of course, missing. But Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Snape were present, as was Hogwarts caretaker Argus Filch, who was carrying a flanged iron mace with a wrist thong and heavy manacles.

Harry leaned over to Millicent Bulstrode on his left. "How is he?"

Millie frowned. "Healing slowly. Pomfrey's feeding him every charm and potion in the dispensary. Pain, Skele-Grow for his jaw and cheekbone, anti-inflammatories, the whole gamut."

Harry nodded. "Is he talking?"

She shook her head. "Says he slipped."

Harry pursed his lips. "Why? Why won't he talk?"

She shrugged. "He's gotten a little strange in the past couple weeks. All term if you ask me. He keeps disappearing. I don't know..."

McGonagall gaveled the meeting to order. "As you all know by now, there has been an attack on a student here at Hogwarts. We do not know of the circumstances surrounding this attack except that it is very serious and cause for concern to us all. As such, we must redouble our efforts to be vigilant. To that end, for now, we will be supplementing our patrols. As the attack took place outside Hufflepuff House, Professor Sprout has volunteered to keep watch in her area of the ground floor. And Professor Snape has agreed to patrol the dungeons and their environs. And I will be accompanying the prefect patrol for the first shift tonight. Professor Moody will accompany the second shift tonight. And further help for patrols are in the offing." McGonagall turned to Professor Sprout. "Professor?"

The plump witch stepped forward. "Well, right now we've redoubled all the wards and locks on the castle. I will have prefects staying up in our common room to watch for anything suspicious. We have created a special alarm charm similar to the one that protects the girls' dorms to guard against intrusion..."

At that point, there were snorts and muffled giggles from most of the girls in the room.

Harry turned a questioning look to Hermione, who leaned over to him. "I'll tell you later."

McGonagall nodded. "Professor Snape."

Snape stepped forward. "All I can say is that an attack on a Slytherin, or any student, is an attack on all of us. The person responsible for this outrage will pay, not just here, but in Azkaban," he said, glancing over at Harry, who frowned back at the Potions master.

Given the nature of the crisis, the rest of the meeting was perfunctory and ended quickly.

On the way back to the common room, he remembered Hermione's remark about the charms guarding the girls' dorms. "What about the girls' dorms?" he asked her quietly.

Hermione chuckled. "You know there are wards against male intrusion into the girls' dorms, don't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "McGonagall told us all that no boys were allowed up there or all sorts of terrible things would happen."

Hermione snorted. "That's right. It's a basic expulsion ward. If you're a boy and try to enter the girls' dorms, it blocks you."

"So?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Every girl above the age of puberty knows the counter-charm. I'll bet several of the first years know it already."

Harry stopped, in shock. "They're having sex already?"

Hermione sighed. "Of course not," she said in exasperation. "But they hear things. And I saw Willie Peters up in our dorm one day. Probably up to something with Maura. She probably learned it from her sister Moira."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "And you, Miss Prefect?"

Hermione blushed furiously. "No, I don't have boys coming up to my bedroom every two minutes, if that's what you think. But you can't share a bedroom with Parvati and Lavender without hearing some interesting information. Interesting and useful," she said with a small smile.

Harry simply continued to walk next to Hermione, deep in thought.

Hermione chuckled. "I hear that Fred and George figured out their own countercharm. So they don't need one of us to let them in. It's interesting who you'll meet in the hallways of the girls' dorm late at night."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe they should have a similar charm for the boys' dorms," he said thoughtfully.

He suddenly thought of Parvati and sighed. He had been stupid. He knew he had overreacted to her prank. Still, he loved his silly T-shirts from his birthday party. Stupid, he knew. A Guinness shirt similar to the one Seamus always wore. An Arsenal football fan shirt that made Dean crazy. A joke T-shirt with the slogan 'Welcome to Beautiful Downtown Little Whinging' with a picture of a cow pasture with several cows grazing. That had been from his best Muggle friend Peter Boyd and was his favorite. Sure, they were silly, but they were gifts, and he treasured them.

He sighed as he entered the common room and made his way up to his dorm. And there they were, on his bed. All his old clothes carefully cleaned and folded. Even his stupid rugby shirt, which he would have liked if it was new and fit, was freshly scrubbed and the stains almost completely gone.

He sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. 'Parvati was right,' he thought sadly.

He looked at the clothes piled so neatly. What were they? They were the remnants, the discards of a life that was over. Why had he kept them? Because he never had anything and so he held on to what little he had?

But why? He had money. Maybe more than he knew what to do with. He didn't need this. He looked at the faded and worn-out shirts and frayed slacks, the darned socks and the dilapidated penny loafers, the stretched out sweatshirts and the flannel shirts that were nearly worn through at the elbows. They were like shackles that a newly freed slave could not seem to discard for fear of offending the former master.

Parvati was right. Yes, she was wrong in invading his trunk. But she was right about his clothes. He had to let go. He had to start his life fresh and anew. He reached down to his wastepaper basket and pulled out the magical paper liner, waving his wand to remove the disposal charm. And slowly, piece by piece, he placed all of Dudley's and Vernon's old castoffs in the bag.

And suddenly, he smiled. He was wrong to overreact to Parvati's little stunt. But that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun with her.

He slowly made his way down the steps to the common room. And there they were. Parvati and Lavender, looking up at him, anxious and contrite. He sauntered over to the couple and casually dropped the bag of discarded clothes between them. "I suppose someone might be able to make some use of these," he said haughtily. "Which means that I will be needing to do some shopping Friday in Hogsmeade. I suppose I could use some help with that. Hmmm. But who could help me?" he said.

Lavender began to smile, but Parvati was still staring anxiously at Harry.

Harry glanced down. "How about you, Lavender? You have a good fashion sense."

Lavender giggled. "Oh, I don't know. I may be booked for the weekend."

Harry gave a curt nod. "Well, now. Maybe Hermione...or maybe Ginny," he said absently and began to step away.

Suddenly Parvati swiveled on the couch and grabbed him around the waist. "Oh, please, Harry. I'm sorry," she cried.

Harry looked down at Parvati with a grin, but his look softened when he realized how upset she had been. He angled around the couch and sat down next to her as Lavender got up and left the two alone.

Harry pulled Parvati to arm's length and looked at her. She slowly brought her eyes up to meet his. "I really am sorry, Harry."

Harry gave her a fond smile and pulled her into an embrace and let her cry a little on his shoulder. "No, Parvati," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you," he said, now rocking her in his arms. "You were right and I was too stupid to listen." He sighed. "Just...well, maybe we should talk about things first."

Parvati sniffled in his arms. "I'm really sorry, Harry. I saw how mad you were...I thought..." and she looked up at him with glistening eyes. "Well, I realized maybe you...well, we all sort of figured you had some money and...I didn't think that maybe you couldn't afford new clothes."

Harry blinked, surprised.

"That's all right, Harry. I know where we can go in Hogsmeade to get good clothes cheap. And I owe you for your birthday presents. I get 25 Galleons a month allowance and I never can spend that much and..."

Harry put his hand over her mouth. "I've got money," he said quietly. "Probably more than I can spend."

Parvati blinked. "You're sure?"

Harry nodded. "I have piles of gold in my vault at Gringotts," he said with an uncertain smile.

Parvati gave him a sympathetic look. "You're really sure?"

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure. It's piled practically up to my waist."

Parvati blinked. "You don't know how much?"

Harry shrugged.

"Don't you get an accounting every six months?"

Harry shrugged again, puzzled.

Parvati sighed and leaned back into his arms. "As long as you can afford it, why did you always wear those raggedy clothes?"

Harry held her, stroking her hair. "I don't know. I guess I don't know how to buy stuff. I never went shopping until this summer, when Mae took me out a couple times," he said with a sigh. "I hated when they make you go behind this thin curtain to take off your pants and try stuff on."

Parvati started giggling. "Afraid someone like me would peek at you?"

Harry chuckled. "No. I'm afraid Colin Creevey will be lurking nearby with his camera."

Parvati looked up at him. "Oh, I'd be first in line to buy those pictures," she said, giggling.

Harry poked her in the ribs, causing her to squirm and giggle some more.

Parvati turned to Harry with an uncertain smile. "You really want me to help you shop?"

Harry gave her a small shrug and sighed. "I hate shopping. I guess...well, I don't know what to do. And I guess...well, yes, I'd really like you to help. I think I need you to help me."

Parvati's smile broadened and leaned against him.

Harry sighed again. He loved her to touch him, to lean against him like this. He just loved the idea that someone would like him enough to do something like that, to lean on him without a thought, without reserve. He simply relaxed at the feel of her against him.

After a few quite minutes, Parvati leaned away from Harry to look at him directly. "Harry, could you do me a favor?" she said softly.

Harry looked at her with concern. "Sure."

"Don't tease Lavender about going to Hogsmeade."

Harry blinked. "I didn't do anything...did I?"

Parvati sighed. "No...it's just that I almost thought you were asking her out when you were mad at me before. About shopping and all."

A puzzled frown passed over Harry's face. "What? I don't understand."

Parvati sighed and leaned against Harry. "Oh. It's just that she's getting upset that no one has asked her to Hogsmeade. Well, except for Dennis Creevey," she said, chuckling at the thought.

Harry put his arm back around Parvati's shoulder and pondered. "Why not? She's pretty. And she is getting better with her makeup. I gave her some Muggle magazines a few weeks ago that I thought she might like. Maybe they helped."

Parvati sighed. "I don't know. Most of the best guys have already paired off with other girls and Lavender can be...well, you know how Lavender can get. She can be a little abrupt with boys."

Harry chuckled. "Not like you," he said with a smirk, earning him a pinch.

"No, seriously. She's a little put out that no one's asked her out. It was different before you and I were a couple. We could plot and plan together. But now...well, she's feeling down and now it's like she's a third wheel."

Harry snorted with a smile. "No luck playing matchmaker?"

Parvati shrugged. "Well, There's Ron."

Harry frowned. "I don't think so. At least not now," he whispered.

"Hermione?"

Harry nodded.

Parvati pondered. "Not Neville. And Seamus and Dean are clueless. And the sixth and seventh years are all spoken for."

Harry chuckled. "Except Dan Turley."

Parvati snorted in disgust.

Harry gave Parvati's shoulder a squeeze and she leaned closer into him.

Suddenly, Seamus, who had just walked into the common room called out, "Hey, get a room you two."

Harry's head jerked up. "Hey, get a life, Finnegan."

Seamus paused and looked at the couple, and shrugged.

Parvati, still in Harry's arms, suddenly started giggling again.

"What?" Harry asked.

Parvati continued to giggle uncontrollably. "It's about time someone said that to him," she said, catching her breath.

* * *

Colin sat down at the Gryffindor table for supper. He pulled out a catalogue from The Wizarding Image, a photography supply house in the wizarding colony outside of Dublin. He had just received his payment from Witch Weekly, 115 Galleons after Ministry fees and taxes were withheld. He had never had so much money in his life. He now had decent money to enjoy Hogsmeade, but he intended to spend a portion of it on his hobby, which he realized now could actually turn into a profession.

He shook his head. Too bad Ginny didn't know anything about photography. He enjoyed talking with her. And he looked forward to talking with her about his new-found fortune. He smiled to himself. Tomorrow night was the beginning of a Hogsmeade weekend. Maybe she'd...

"Hi, Colin."

Colin blinked and looked up. "Uh, hi, Luna."

Suddenly, Colin's dreamy-eyed blonde classmate from Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood, slid in beside him at the Gryffindor table.

"I saw your pictures in Witch Weekly. They were beautiful. You really have an artist's eye," she said with a soft smile.

Colin blinked. "You liked them?"

She nodded vigorously, shaking the wand she had stuck in her hair behind her ear. "The cover was typical Witch Weekly fare, but really well done. But the shot of Harry brooding in the armchair was brilliant. And where did you get the shot of unicorn? My daddy publishes The Quibbler and he is always looking for good unicorn shots."

Colin blinked again and blushed in pleasure. "You really liked them? I liked the shot of Parvati being thoughtful," he said, his enthusiasm growing.

Luna shrugged. "She photographs well. That was an easy shot. But the one of Harry was really good. Is that your camera?"

Colin nodded enthusiastically, holding it out to her.

Luna took it and gave it a careful examination.

At this point, Ginny walked over and saw that her seat had been taken by Luna. She frowned. "Luna. This isn't your house table. Or hadn't you noticed?"

Luna looked up at Ginny and gave her a dreamy smile. "Hi, Ginny. Colin and I were talking about photography." She then turned to Colin. "Did you know there were leaf fairies in the Forbidden Forest?"

Colin shook his head.

"You want to see?" she said with wide-eyed excitement. "Maybe we can get a couple shots of them. They're very rare, you know."

Colin stared at her. "Now?"

Suddenly, food appeared on the students' plates.

Luna nodded vigorously. "There's not much time. There's only about 45 minutes of light left. Here, grab something to eat and we can go down now."

Colin looked at her in confusion. Then he smiled. "Cool!" he said and grabbed a napkin and stuff the makings of some sandwiches into it.

Luna grabbed a couple goblets of pumpkin juice awkwardly in one hand and grabbed Colin's free hand in her other and pulled him toward the entrance, with Colin wearing a silly grin.

Ginny stared at the retreating couple in confusion and annoyance. She sat down and noticed Colin's forgotten catalogue on the bench. She reached over and grabbed it, crumpling it in her fist.

* * *

Harry Potter exited the Hogsmeade branch of Gladrags with two packages under one arm and three large bags grasped in his other hand. He was not looking terribly happy. But Parvati Patil was beaming.

Harry had not been lying before. He had only been shopping for himself twice in his life, both times with Mae Strowbridge. She had guided him gently through the process, helping him select a few things here and there, then buying them for him over his protests.

Shopping with Parvati was another thing entirely. She had almost literally dragged him from one shop to another, giving him chapter and verse on what he needed, what to look for, how to talk to the sales clerks, and what did and did not look good on him.

Harry grumbled throughout the process, but he did admit that the new dress and running shoes she made him buy felt wonderful. And he was amazed that they seemed to conform exactly to what felt comfortable.

"Well, of course, silly," she said in amazement. "They are designed to fit a range of sizes and, once you buy them, they are charmed to adjust to your exact size. Muggles!" she exclaimed in exasperation.

So now he was carrying packages with two pair of dress slacks, two pair of jeans, two dress shirts, a pair of dress shoes and his old running shoes, as he decided to wear the new running shoes he just bought, and enough socks to last him a lifetime. And he had a large bag containing a dress robe that Parvati picked out and insisted that he buy. "I'm not going to the Yule Ball with someone dressed in last year's ill-fitting raggedy robe," she announced.

Harry was shaking his head. He had just spent nearly 200 Galleons. He was thankful that Parvati had shown him how to owl for money from his Gringotts account. As he pondered the idea of spending 65 Galleons on a dress robe and 20 Galleons on a single pair of shoes, he didn't notice the woman in the shadows watching them as they continued on their shopping odyssey.

The woman in the shadows scribbled in her notebook and was torn between following the couple and talking to the Gladrags sales clerk. She had already followed the couple to On Winged Feet, the high-end shoe store in Hogsmeade, as well an The Elegant Wizard men's store, and Malkins/Scotland--Robes for All Occasions.

'Harry Potter, the beleaguered young champion and victor over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, followed meekly behind the predatory young minx, Parvati Patil, from store to store, caught up in her spendthrift ways,' the Quick Quotes Quill wrote. 'The amount of money she was forcing him to spend on her was staggering...'

Suddenly, the Quick Quotes Quill was snatched from mid-air. There was a snap and the Q-Quill fluttered broken to the ground.

Rita Skeeter gasped and turned in fear, anticipating facing Cyrus Jordan or maybe that good-looking Patil brother. In either case, she knew she was in for it.

But it wasn't an Auror Skeeter faced. It was worse. It was Sadie Reider, the senior investigative reporter from Witch Weekly.

Rita took a deep breath and managed a look of annoyance. "That Q-Quill cost me five Galleons," she said with a frown.

"Shut up, Rita. Bernard would have spiked that story anyway," Sadie said with a menacing look on her face. "If he didn't, I would have. You're not writing for that rag, the Prophet, anymore"

Rita looked at Sadie. Sadie wasn't her boss at her new job at Witch Weekly. But as senior on the investigative beat, Sadie would have an effective say on whatever Rita turned in. And Rita hated that.

But what Rita hated even more was that Sadie was the best reporter she knew. They had been rivals for twenty years when Rita worked on the Prophet. And now, for all intents and purposes, Rita now worked for Sadie.

Sadie, a tall, intense woman in her fifties with long, tangled dark hair beginning to show some gray, shook her head. "You had potential, Rita. And you turned into a someone who writes robe-ripper romances and passes it off as news copy. You can't even write on your own copy anymore. You need a Q-Quill. What happened to you?"

Rita raised her head haughtily. "I've had more above-the-fold stories that you could ever dream of, Sadie," she said with a false arrogance. "Everyone knows my name."

Sadie shook her head sadly. "Everyone also knows the name Voldemort. And Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Is that what you aspire to? To be notorious? Or to be a cartoon posing as a journalist?"

Rita felt the flush was evident, even through her heavily rouged cheeks. "I am a journalist."

Sadie nodded. "Okay, if you insist. But your secret is safe with me."

Rita flexed her blood-red two-inch nails but held her temper. She knew she could strike back with nasty comments, but Sadie knew how to scratch where it really hurt. "What are you doing here, anyway?" she snapped. "I'm following up on Potter and Patil. They're my story."

Sadie snorted. "Your story? That puff piece you did on them for the cover last month? Like I said, little more than a robe-ripper romance posing as journalism. No legitimate reporter would have done that story...at least the way you did."

Rita glared at Sadie. "It was worth 350 Galleons and got me this job."

Sadie shook her head sadly. "Because no one else would hire you," she said softly. "I think you and I need to have a talk."

* * *

Rita was finishing her third ale to chase her third Firewhiskey as she looked across at Sadie. Sadie was leaning across the table at the Hogs Head with sympathetic eyes. Rita had just finished a tearful recounting of her three months in a mason jar as an insect animagus, thanks to Hermione Granger.

Sadie shook her head as if in sympathy. She signaled Jake the bartender for another round. She knew Jake well, as she knew all her sources well. And Jake knew her. So he arrived promptly with two more shot glasses and two more pints.

But only Jake and Sadie knew that Sadie's shot glass held only tea, not Firewhiskey. The ale was real, but Sadie knew she could handle the alcohol. She reached across the table and grasped Rita's talon-like hand.

"Rita, you are going to have to work at it. I know you have the talent. But you've gotten lazy. You play at being a reporter. But there are real stories out there that need to be told. Not the gossip. Not rehashes of Ministry axe-grinding. The real thing. You've got the ability. Now use it."

Skeeter looked up bleary-eyed through her rhinestone studded, goggle-like glasses. "Harry and Potty...Parvati are what sell. They're my beat," she said in a slurring voice.

Sadie nodded. "So why not do a real investigative piece on them. Not following them around to report the details of their romantic rendezvous. Something real."

Rita, swaying slightly, shrugged. "Come on, we're a witches' magazine. That's what our readers want.

Sadie's eyes flared. "Our readers like the romance stuff. But they are desperate for the real news that affects their lives. Things that can help them, or enlighten them. You don't give them any credit. They'll take the dessert. But they're starving for a real meal. It's your job to serve it up."

Rita frowned woozily. "Like what?"

Sadie leaned farther across the table. "Like why the Ministry worked so hard to discredit Harry? Like what's her background? What about the Potters? They had money. What happened to it all? Why did Pettigrew turn on them? Why is Voldemort after Harry and Parvati? There are lots of unanswered questions. Important questions."

Rita swayed again. "But...we're a weekly. I can't do a story like that in a week."

Sadie shook her head. "There are other things to report on in the meantime. And if you find something worth pursuing, I can run interference for you with Bernie."

Rita's blood-shot eyes widened. "Why?"

Sadie took a deep breath. "Because we're journalists. That's what we do. The story's the thing. Not how much it might bring in from advertisers. Not what it can get us in notoriety. It's exposing the slime we find when we turn over the rocks in our world. It's turning on the light to see who scurries into hiding. And by finding heroes. Not the blow-hards in the Ministry, but the ones who work in anonymity for us. That's our job."

Rita nodded and sipped her ale, having finished her fourth Firewhiskey. "You never answered me...what were you doing here in Hogsmeade?"

Sadie smiled softly. "To find out why Calvin Curtis of Gladrags would bankroll Malfoy's son here at Hogwarts."

Rita shrugged. "That's easy. Fellow Death Eaters watching out for one another. And Curtis garnering some good publicity for the company at the same time."

Sadie sighed. "That's your story?"

Rita shrugged. "Easy as one-two-three. I could write it with my eyes closed," she said, closing her eyes.

Sadie shook her head sadly. "No, Rita. Calvin Curtis hates Lucius Malfoy. He did it to embarrass and humiliate Lucius. To show that Malfoy was such a bad father that his son had to accept charity from strangers. And maybe to cancel any debts Calvin owed Lucius. That's why he did it."

Rita had time to blink twice at Sadie in confusion before she passed out.

* * *

Sirius lowered his head. "You're sure you wouldn't rather be with your girl?"

Harry shifted on the chair in Sirius's tiny flat and cocked his head, puzzled. "You're my Godfather. I see Parvati all the time. But I can only see you once every two weeks."

Sirius again looked around at his shabby room. "Still..."

Harry leaned back in exasperation. "Look, Parvati's out having a ball, shopping with Lavender. Lavender has been all down in the dumps and needed some cheering up. So I'll meet up with them tonight. I want to be here, okay?"

Sirius gave Harry one of his wolfish grins. "So you don't mind spending some time with an old man, eh?"

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. It was a rare thing for laughter to be heard in Room 2B above Gladrags.

Harry managed to chatter on about school and Parvati and Sirius leaned back on his bed and recalled countless adventures as a Marauder.

But Sirius' mood slowly and subtly became more subdued.

Finally, during a lull in the conversation, Sirius spoke up. "Have you thought about what you want to do about Christmas?"

Harry looked up in surprise. "Well, I thought I'd spend it here with you. I really want to go visit my foster parents, Tony and Mae, for a couple days. I really miss them. And Parvati wants me to go to place to visit her parents. But I'd really like to spent some time together with you. It'll be fun," he said with a grin.

Sirius lowered his head. "I don't think that would be for the best, Harry," he said quietly.

Harry stared at his godfather in confusion. "But...you don't want me around?"

Sirius looked up at Harry. "Of course I want you around. But you can't stay here. And I can't take you back to my old home...it's being used for other things...and I can't go back there," he said with a catch in his voice. "So you'd end up spending almost all your time at Hogwarts."

"I've done that before," he said softly. "It's no big deal."

Sirius sighed. "Look, Dumbledore told me you have a family now. The Strowbridges. He isn't too keen on the idea because they're Muggles and not blood relatives. But he accepts that you care about them and that they're good to you. So spend the couple days before the break coming over here and then spend your break with them. I'll be spending the holidays with Remus and his family. And I wouldn't wish his Aunt Mathilda on you, or anyone," he said with a chuckle. "And there will be a full moon a few days after Christmas. It wouldn't help me to have you around to worry about while at the same time putting up with Moony's shenanigans at that time."

Harry looked at Sirius with mixed emotions. He desperately wanted to be with his Godfather, to help him celebrate his first free Christmas in 15 years. But he also sorely missed Tony and Mae. They had written him, urging him to come to the vicarage for Christmas, to help with and enjoy the madhouse it would become around that time of year.

Harry slowly lowered his head again. "I don't know..."

Sirius snorted. "Oh, I get it. You just want to go snogging with Aunt Mathilda. She's three tons of fun. And for a young sprout like you, she might even shave her moustache."

Harry began giggling.

Sirius got up and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go visit your foster parents, Harry. I'll be fine."

* * *

Harry was sitting at one of the long tables, trying desperately to concentrate on his essay on Elgrin the Eldritch's efforts to bring about peace talks in the Goblin War of 1612 for his History of Magic class for Professor Binns. But frankly, his curiosity was piqued by the whispered discussion going on at the end of the table. Fred and George Weasley were whispering back and forth to Hermione. Whispering by the Weasley twins was never a good sign. It usually preceded a plague of locusts or an even more annoying prank. But the fact they somehow had gotten Hermione involved was even more ominous.

"Are you sure the time delay charm works?" George, or was it Fred, asked.

Hermione was in the process of nodding confidently.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting scream pierced the quiet of the common room.

Harry was on his feet in an instant. The scream, followed by a serious of agonized, but muffled moans, had come from the boys' dorm area. Harry bounded up the stairs, followed closely by Ron and the twins and several of the girls.

It couldn't be an attack by Voldemort, thought Harry. Hogwarts is too heavy warded against intrusion. He heard the moaning continue. It was coming from the boys' bathroom.

"Come on," Harry heard Dean's voice plead. "It's going to be all right."

Harry turned the corner and, wand out for battle, raced into the loo.

Seamus was under the row of sinks curled into the fetal with his hands covering his face. Dean was trying to get him to come out of the shadows cast by the sink.

"I'm sorry Seamus. I can try to fix it," Dean continued to plead.

Harry grabbed Dean. "What is it? What happened? Was there an attack?" Harry demanded.

Dean's face was full of anxiety and he was close to tears. "I'm sorry. I really am. We can fix it. I'm sure we can."

"What, Dean? What?" Harry demanded.

The bathroom was filling, now, with Ron, George and Fred, along with Colin and Dennis Creevey, wands out and looking anxiously around for any signs of intruders, surrounding the huddled figure of Seamus. Hermione, Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil and Moira Duffy, and even Lavender Brown, who had just stepped out of the shower and was in her pajamas and dressing gown with a towel wrapped around her head, were gathered at the door, ready to help their friend. Several of the girls were also glancing around curiously, having never seen the boys' bathroom before.

"What happened?" Harry demanded again, grabbing the shaken Dean.

"It was...it was...the acne potion," Dean said weakly.

"The what...?" came a chorus of onlookers.

Dean stammered and couldn't continue.

Harry reached down and gently pulled Seamus to his feet.

"Go away!" he said through his hands, which were still covering his face. "Go away. I don't want anyone to see me like this."

Harry gently turned Seamus to face away from the onlookers and pried Seamus's hands, finger, by finger, away from his face.

The sandy-haired Irish boy now had the same thick sandy hair all over his face, including his forehead, his nose and his eye lids.

There was a collective strangling sound as everyone, including the girls, attempted to stifle their laughter at the friend's misfortune which, unfortunately for Seamus, could be plainly seen in the mirror that the boy now faced.

Seamus screamed again, covering his face. "I'm going to kill you, Dean, I'm going to kill you," came the muffled growl. Dean backed away.

Hermione was the first of the onlookers to recover. She strode into the middle of the boys' bathroom, followed quietly by the other girls. "What potion did you use, Dean?" she demanded.

"It said it would work," he whined. "It came straight from Humbasil's Home Potions for the Hip Wizard. It was guaranteed to cover the uncoverable and hide the unhideable," he muttered.

"What was name of the potion," Hermione again demanded.

Dean whispered something to Hermione.

"What!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's not an acne potion! That's a baldness remedy!"

At this point, several of the onlookers could contain themselves no longer, bursting out laughing.

"Hey Seamus, I told you to stop doing what you've been doing or this would happen," Fred said with a malicious grin.

"I thought that was just happened on your palms," George added with his own evil grin. "But with Seamus, you never know."

Seamus gave a strangled cry and dove underneath the sinks again.

Hermione turned to give the twins a dirty look. "Oh, for Circe's sake. There's a easy enough remedy. Stand him up," she commanded.

Harry and Ron grabbed Seamus and stood him up to face Hermione.

Hermione looked thoughtful. She suddenly thought of the charm girls used to shave their legs. 'It can be adapted for this,' she thought. She then took out her wand, waved it in a broad sweep over Seamus and intoned Calvidium Totallus.

Ginny shouted "NO!" But it was too late.

Seamus turned to look in the mirror. But the movement manage to dislodge large chunks of hair, not just from his face, but from his head and eyebrows as well. Seamus swept his hands across his face, which was now smooth underneath. Then, with growing horror, attempted to run his fingers through his hair. His effort yielded a smooth, totally hairless head. He collapsed against the sink, moaning and cursing.

Hermione, a stunned look on her face, squeaked an apology and ran out of the bathroom in tears.

Suddenly, Seamus began to twitch. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," he said through his tears. "First this, now I itch all over. What the hell did you people do to me!" he yelled.

He began to scratch his chest, then, without thinking, started to scratch farther down.

"Seamus!" cried Moira, to the amusement of everyone.

Ron was puzzled, as well, until he looked down. Lightly coating Seamus's navy blue slippers were curly sandy-colored hairs which were falling out of Seamus's pant legs.

"Ah...Seamus," Ron said with a chuckle. "Looks like you're going to have to go through puberty again."

Fred and George collapsed on the floor in hysterics. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

Everyone else was looking at Seamus, chuckling. All except Moira, who was staring at the urinals. "Do they actually have to sit in those things," she whispered to Lavender.

"Oh, shut up Moira, and make yourself useful. Go get my makeup kit," Lavender commanded.

"You mean the one in the girl's bathroom?" the little fourth year asked, a bit cowed.

"No," Lavender said. "The big one under my bed. You know, the one we used when we took care of ... your little problem."

Moira blushed furiously and ran off.

"What are you going to do," said Parvati.

"Fix up Seamus," Lavender said firmly. "These boys have no conception of personal appearance."

"Okay, you Trolls, get out of the way. Let someone who knows what she's doing take over," Lavender said as she pushed aside Harry, Ron, George and Fred. The Creevey brothers had already fled in the face of her determination.

Unaware of what was going on, Neville Longbottom had just arrived in the common room from the library. He raced up the stairs and walked into the boy's bathroom. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"There are girls in the boy's bathroom," he squeaked.

"All right, who told Neville about the orgy. It was supposed to be a secret," Fred said.

"Shut up, Fred," Parvati said.

"I'm George," Fred said.

"But I have to go to the bathroom," Neville whined.

"Oh, go ahead," Parvati said. "We won't look."

"I would," said a small voice from the door.

Everyone slowly turned with a startled look at Moira, who was carrying a small suitcase full of Lavender's cosmetics and personal care products. Moira suddenly turned beet red. "I didn't say that out loud, did I?" She gave an embarrassed squeak, dropped the suitcase and fled. Neville, who had turned a shade nearly as red, fled as well, but up the stairs to the dorm.

Everyone slowly turned to look at each other and burst into laughter, including Seamus.

Lavender then turned to Seamus. "Parvati, Ginny, get these knuckle-draggers out of here. We've got work to do." The girls pushed the laughing and complaining boys out of the bathroom.

For the next 15 minutes, the girls worked to clean all the stray hairs from a squirming Seamus's head an face and concocted a familiar potion to use on his acne.

"What's wrong with you, Seamus," Lavender said. "Going to Dean over a couple pimples. You could have come to us girls. We know about these things."

"I...I was embarrassed," Seamus said petulantly. He paused. "You wouldn't come to any of the boys with and embarrassing problem, would you?"

"Sure I would," Lavender said as she continued to work on him. "Ron or Harry would be the first ones I would go to if someone I was embarrassed to be seen with was following me around. 'Could you big strong boys hex Dennis Creevey into next week for me'," she said in a sing-song voice

The girls laughed knowingly at that remark.

When Seamus's face was completely cleared up, Lavender asked Ginny to perform a hair-restoring spell as Lavender stood back to observe.

Ginny waved her wand and Seamus's hair and beard slowly began to grow back.

"A little more," Lavender muttered, "A little more...Okay."

"Hey," Seamus protested. "I wear my hair longer than that."

"Oh, shut up, Seamus. What do you know about what looks good on you. You've been wearing that same tee-shirt for the last two years," Lavender said.

At that moment, Neville reappeared, took one look, and immediately walked out. Seamus and the girls giggled and shrugged.

One of the unfortunate effects of the hair restoration charm was that every hair on Seamus's head and chin now were all the same length. His head looked like it had a sandy-blond mop on it.

Lavender took out her wand and gently removed his scraggly beard. She then stepped back to assess his hair.

She turned to Parvati and Ginny. "I'm not going to be able to do the job I want with a wand. I'm going to have to do this with a comb and scissors. So it's going to take a while. So if you have something else to do, you don't have to stay."

Ginny shrugged. "I do have a potions quiz tomorrow, and I don't think Snape will accept bathroom humor as an excuse."

"And I have to take my shower," Parvati said. "Seamus. I just love what you've done to this place," she said, giving the bathroom a broad look. "It has been a delight. Please invite us back again."

The two girls left.

Lavender looked around the loo and noticed two battered and graffiti-covered high-chairs in the corner, labeled 'Fred's Throne' and 'George's Throne.' She shook her head.

"Accio stool," Lavender said, waving her wand, and George's high-chair flew over to them.

"Now sit," she commanded, and pushed Seamus down into the chair.

Lavender now began to work, roughly pushing Seamus's head back, forth, left and right to get the best angle for her work. The towel wrapping her wet hair in place came loose several times and she finally just unwrapped it and tossed it aside. She flung her long thick blonde hair over her shoulder, but when it wouldn't stay put, she grabbed a ribbon out of her makeup kit and tied it back.

Seamus watched all this in the mirror. Most of the boys thought Lavender was attractive, but always joked about how much makeup she wore and how boy crazy she acted. But seeing her fresh out of the shower made Seamus realize she really was a very pretty girl. And now, despite all the embarrassment he felt over what he had gone through in front of Lavender, Seamus began to enjoy the experience.

Then Lavender walked over to his left side and pushed his head down to snip away at the hair above his ear. He noticed that her dressing gown was open. Although her pajamas were buttoned chastely to the top, he noticed her movements created little gaps between the buttons were he would catch a glimpse of the flesh between her breasts. He began to feel the heat rise in his face, and looked away.

He suddenly realized that this very pretty girl was giving him her undivided attention, brushing and stroking his hair, albeit innocently, between snips. It was the most sensuous feeling he had ever had in his life and it made him light-headed. He had lived in this same house with her for four and a half years and, except for a casual date with her at the Yule Ball last year which he never followed up on, and a few leering looks when she wore something a little too tight, he had never paid her much attention. But she had his full attention now. He could not let the moment pass.

As she worked on the back of his hair, he looked at the reflection of her face above his in the mirror. "You know, you look very pretty tonight," he whispered.

She paused and looked up at her reflection just above his in the mirror. "Oh, don't be silly. I'm a wreck. I just got out of the shower, my hair's down and tangled, I've got no makeup on. A total wreck."

She went back to snipping his hair. Now he was really feeling light-heading over all the anxiety and emotion of early in the evening, topped by the sensuous feeling of have this young woman's hands handling his head and the stress of overcoming his shyness to compliment her. But he had to say something more.

"No really. You look nice with your hair down," he said throatily. "You look so fresh and pink and clean. And I never noticed that you have a few cute freckles across the bridge of your nose."

Lavender stopped cutting to look again at her reflection above his in the mirror. Without noticing, she leaned forward to get a closer look.

Seamus felt her lean forward, feeling her breasts press over the top of his shoulders, his neck nestled into her cleavage as she rested her chin on her hands on top of his head. This was beyond sensual. He was no longer light-headed, he was ...

Lavender smiled, thinking Seamus really was a nice-looking boy who really did think she was pretty in her own right, without makeup. She glanced down with a smile from her reflection to his, only to see his eyes roll up inside his head as he slowly slipped off the chair.

"SEAMUS!" she cried, as she broke his fall, letting him lie flat on the floor. She took a wet towel and, straddling him, leaned over to pat his face to try to bring him to.

At that moment, Neville walked in. "Oh my God," he screamed and fled down to the common room.

Parvati, who had just come down to the common room after her shower, heard the commotion and saw Neville walking gingerly down the steps.

"What's the matter, Neville? Is something wrong?" she asked.

"You're damn right, there's something wrong! I still have to go to the bathroom, but I can't. Seamus and Lavender are having sex up there," Neville screamed, shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other.

Parvati launched herself up the stairs on the boys' side.

Slowly Moira came up from under the table where she dove when she saw Neville coming. "I'm sorry for before, Neville," she said, blushing and looking contrite. "Maybe I can help."

Now it was Neville's face that turned pink. "How can you help?" he asked, feeling uncomfortable in more ways then one.

"I can take you to the girls' bathroom and check if it's clear...and I can stand guard while you use it," she said shyly.

Neville was prepared to be shocked by the suggestion, but nature had other ideas. "Would you?" he gasped, squirming uncomfortably.

Moira smiled shyly again. "Sure, Neville. And I won't peek. I promise," she said, her face flushing an even deeper hue.

In the meantime, Parvati stormed into the boys' bathroom to see Lavender continuing to put cold towels on Seamus's face.

"What happened?" Parvati asked.

"I don't know," Lavender replied. "I was cutting his hair, and he started to say how pretty I looked, even without makeup. All I did was sort of lean over to get a better look in the mirror, and he passed out."

Parvati gave Lavender a skeptical look. "I suppose your pajama tops were unbuttoned when you happened to lean over."

Lavender gave Parvati a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?" She fingered her pajamas and was satisfied they were fully buttoned. "Anyway, I was behind him, cutting the hair on the back of his neck, and he said I looked fresh and pink and that I had cute freckles. All I did was rest my hands on the top of his head and lean forward, to get a better look in the mirror."

Parvati looked at her friend closely, then her face split into a broad grin. "He swooned!" she cried. "Lavender, a cute boy actually swooned over you."

Lavender's eyes lit up. "He did!" she cried. "Oh, I've always wanted someone to swoon over me, just like in the romance tales in Witch Weekly."

Lavender jumped up and she and Parvati embraced, bouncing up and down excitedly.

Then Seamus groaned and began to move his head around in confusion. Lavender suddenly stopped and dropped down beside him, helping him sit up. She took a close look at him to see if he was all right. He looked at her in a daze. "Lavender...?"

Suddenly, Lavender threw her arms around him, pressing his face into her chest. "Don't worry, Seamus, honey. Lavender's here. She'll take care of you."

Parvati gave the couple a knowing smile, shook her head with a chuckle and exited the boys' bathroom for the final time that night.

And Seamus swooned again.

In the meantime, Fred and George were sneaking up the stairs to the girl's dorms to try to lure Angelina and Katie up to the Astronomy Tower for some late night 'star gazing.' Just as they got to the first level, they saw and much-relieved Neville stepping out of the girls' bathroom next to Moira.

Fred turned to George. "Looks like Moira got her look, after all," he said knowingly.

And for the second time that night, Neville and Moira turned beet red, squeaked and ran off in opposite directions.