The Next Dance

THE NEXT DANCE

BY AERIE22

CHAPTER 21

JOURNALISM 101

Hermione sat in the far corner of the Gryffindor common room, lost in thought. She had gotten very little sleep the night before, after discovering Harry in Parvati's bed. She didn't know what to think.

She had never really accepted that their relationship had gotten that far, despite hints that were hard to miss, such as when Hermione saw a fully-clothed Parvati sneaking into their dorm around dawn one morning just before the Christmas break, or catching snippets of hushed serious conversations with Lavender seeking advice from Parvati about sex.

Hermione sighed. Was that what relationships were about? Sex? She wished she had someone she could talk to about it. Surely, she wasn't going to ask Lavender, or especially Parvati. She knew she could talk to Ginny about any number of 'girl' things, but she would be uncomfortable having serious discussions about relationships and sex. After all, Ginny was Ron's sister, and too many wrong impressions might be formed. And some of those might get back to Ron. And the last thing she wanted was to mislead Ron.

Hermione frowned. It was odd how she thought of her two best friends. Ron was the sillier, less mature of the two. But Hermione had always looked at him as a warm, goofy, but loving older brother. She loved how he always looked out for her, argued with her, annoyed her, but was always there for her.

She looked at Harry, on the other hand, as a sort of twin or even as a younger brother. He was someone who would brave hell to protect her, but also always seemed to be in need of comfort and protection himself. Her comfort and protection. She could lecture Ron, but she would guide Harry. Ron could comfort her, but Harry could make her heart sing. And Ron could annoy her but Harry could break her heart.

And break her heart he had.

What could she do? She shook her head. She was a prefect. She could turn them in. 'Professor McGonagall, Harry's been sleeping with Parvati when he should ... be with me,' she thought morosely, wiping away a tear. No, she would never do something as cruel and vindictive as that. Not to Harry.

But what should she do? She knew she was lonely. Harry was still his same friendly self. It's just that he never seemed to have as much time for her as before. Parvati seemed to take up all his time now. Then again, she still had Ron.

But what about Ron?

He was tall and fairly nice looking. He was sweet and caring. But he was also annoying and often infuriating. He didn't care about so many things that were important to her. And he was obsessed with things, like Quidditch, that she had only a marginal interest in.

But he did like her.

Hermione pursed her lips. Ron had calmed down a lot over than past few months. He had actually followed her to the library often, and it had begun to show in his grades. He had moved from 28^th in the class last year to 17^th for the first term. He was making a solid effort.

And he was trying not to be as annoying as in the past. Sure, he complained about the library and her resistance to spending all her free time at silly pursuits. But they hadn't argued as much as in the past couple years.

But she didn't love him. At least not in the way he wanted.

But he held on. And she appreciated it. Sometimes, she just had to hug him.

Was this the way romance began? Not with a hot burning desire but with a realization there was someone always there you could lean on? Hermione didn't know. She had waited for some sign that her feelings would develop toward Ron once Harry started seeing Parvati. And she was still waiting.

Hermione sighed again. She felt guilty at times that she wasn't acting the way Ron wanted her to. Was she taking him for granted? She didn't think so. But then, she hadn't realized what she was doing to Harry at the beginning of the year, either, she thought to herself. And it led to a broken heart. What should she do? What should she being doing? She would have to think about it.

Suddenly, the portrait hole swung open and Ron burst in, his hair still wet from his post-Quidditch practice shower.

"Hey, Hermione!" he called out with a smile. "Wanna go to Hogsmeade?"

Hermione sighed. "No, Ron. I have things to do this afternoon."

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Things like what? Homework? You probably have all your homework for the next three months done already. Come on to Hogsmeade!" he exclaimed with an expectant smile.

Hermione shook her head. "I can't."

Ron walked up and plopped down in a chair next to her. "Why not?" he said in mild annoyance. "You had fun last night, didn't you?"

Hermione shuddered. She was in high spirits last night because she thought Harry and Parvati were breaking up. Now, things had changed so radically that she was lost. "No, Ron. I need some time to think."

Ron stared at her in confusion. "Think? You can think anytime! Come on, it's a Hogsmeade weekend!" He exclaimed, his voice rising.

"No! I can't," she exclaimed in exasperation.

Ron slammed his palm on the chair's armrest. "Can't, or won't! Why can't you just relax and have some fun for a change! If not this afternoon, then tonight!"

Hermione, annoyed, shook her head. "I have fun! Just not now! I'm going upstairs!"

Ron tried to calm himself for a moment. "Then tonight," he said in a more controlled tone.

Hermione paused on her way to the girls' dorms and closed her eyes in frustration. "Oh, all right. I'll think about it," she muttered, and stalked up the stairs.

* * *

Harry hated Quidditch practices in the winter. The snow had stopped yesterday morning, in time for the Hogsmeade visit that he and Parvati had managed to miss. But that didn't change the fact that it was biting cold out.

Whenever it was this cold, the Quidditch team would bundle up and run through their paces as if in slow motion. While practicing, they would build up a sweat, only to freeze once they paused or quit playing from the cold, clammy feeling in their clothes.

So it was a relief to skip the showers in the Quidditch locker rooms and come back to the dorm for a hot, leisurely shower, then lie back on his bed and relax for an hour or so.

Harry would have liked to simply lounge around all afternoon, but Parvati had been insistent that they go to Hogsmeade together that afternoon. After their little blow-up last night, Parvati had been surprisingly clingy and affectionate at breakfast--to the point where they drew a dry comment from a disapproving Professor McGonagall as they filed out.

Then he was cornered by Lavender in the Common Room after Parvati left to visit Padma while he was to go to practice. After a quick but embarrassingly thorough lesson in female biology, Lavender told him in no uncertain terms that tongues were already wagging about their fight and that he had better be very publicly caring and affectionate to Parvati today at Hogsmeade. It was all that he could do not to roll his eyes but simply sat there meekly, wishing he could get on to Quidditch practice.

So now he had an hour or so before Parvati would be ready for an afternoon of shopping and lounging at the Three Broomsticks. He reached over as he sat up in his bed, his back to the headboard, and grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and began to write another letter to Tony and, particularly, Mae about the fight with Parvati last night. Harry had no clue what happened and last night frightened him. He knew nothing about being in love and was still in the dark about girls. Maybe Mae could explain it.

He was barely through the first paragraph when the door to the dorm burst open and an angry Ron came storming in. Harry looked up in surprise, as did Ron when he saw Harry there.

"What's up, mate?" Harry asked.

Ron flopped theatrically into his bed and snorted. "Hermione! What else!"

Harry frowned. "What about her?"

Ron sulked. "She says she can't go to Hogsmeade today!" he exclaimed. "She says she has to think! Think? When is she not thinking?" he said in exasperation.

Harry frowned and shook his head. "So maybe tonight?"

Ron grunted. "She said she'd think about it," he muttered. "Christ, enough with the thinking!"

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed.

Ron jerked his head up in surprise. "What?"

Harry gave him a smile and motioned with his eyes to a little glass jar with a few coins in it on this desk.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. What's the going rate for blasphemy again? A sickle for the poor box? If this keeps up with Hermione, I'll end up owing my first ten years' pay to the poor box!"

Harry chuckled. "Well, since it's a Hogsmeade weekend, we'll put it on your account. Wouldn't want you to come up short on butterbeer money," he said with a grin. Then he looked at his friend, who was frowning in the bed next to him. "So you two had a fight?"

Ron grunted again. "Yeah...well, we had an argument. I kept trying to tell her to relax and stop being such a bookworm and library ghost an all, and she got real mad, shouting and all that and then she stormed up to her dorm. I wish I heard that counterspell Lavender used last night so I could run up after her and argue some more. Talk some sense into her," he said with a frown.

Harry leaned back and sighed.

Ron suddenly sat up and lowered his head to stare at the floor. "I don't even know if we're a couple or not," he said softly.

Harry sat up at that and swiveled to face his friend. "What do you mean?"

Ron frowned. "Well, we did go to the Ball together and all ... and she kissed me--on the lips, not just the cheek--after it was over. And we're always hanging out together. I even go up to the library with her to study and all when I could be hanging out here and having fun."

Harry nodded.

Ron took a deep breath. "But we never do anything. I mean, she kisses me on the cheek every once in a while, and gives me hugs when I don't expect it and all. I like hugging her. But then she squirms away and goes back to whatever she was doing and pushes me away when I try to hug her. It's bloody frustrating."

Harry didn't know what to say. "I ... I don't know, Ron. I can't figure out girls any more than you can."

Ron suddenly looked up and smiled. "I'll bet that's not what Parvati says," his grin widening.

Harry suddenly blushed and squirmed.

Ron's smile softened. "Hermione caught you two up in the girl's dorm last night."

Harry suddenly felt the color rise in his cheeks. "Hermione?" he gasped.

Ron leaned back in his bed, nodding. "We came back from Hogsmeade a little early and she went upstairs and saw. She told me she didn't think it was proper for her to be the one to wake you up, so we waited for Lavender."

Harry was now blushing furiously. "You ... uh ... don't tell anyone, okay?" he said frantically, looking anywhere around the room except at his best friend.

Ron began to chuckle. "I kinda figured maybe you were ... you know. But after she started yelling at you, I figured that was the end. Good thing she didn't do a Dan Turley on you and break your nose."

Harry fidgeted. "Well ... she did hex me a couple times."

Ron suddenly burst out in laughter. "But you hung around long enough for when you two made up with each other."

Harry finally looked up with pleading eyes. "Please, don't tell anyone about it, okay? It's like, something private between me and her."

Ron continue to chuckle, but now more quietly. "No problem there, mate. Not that there's anything to hide or anything. I guess a lot of people kind of assume ... I figured you were, but I didn't want to ask."

Harry colored even more deeply.

Ron lowered his head to try to catch Harry's eye. "How long, mate?"

Harry's head jerked up. "What?"

Ron colored a little. "Well ... how long ... well, have you two been ... you know ... "

Harry felt like curling up in a ball. "A while ... " he managed to mutter.

Ron smiled. "Yeah? Better watch out, in case her parents find out. Or Tony and Mae. You'll be paying into the poor box for the rest of your life. I can't even imagine the howlers I'd get from mum if she caught me in bed with a girl," he said with a chuckle.

Harry frowned. "They already know ... they all knew right away. None of them approve ... you should have heard the talks I got from Tony ... and from her mother," he said with shake of his head.

Ron stopped and stared, his mouth open. "How did ... how did they find out?" he managed to gasp out.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe parents can read minds ... "

* * *

"All right then, clear your mind! Legilimens!"

Snape was angry. He had experienced a few run-ins with the Headmaster, but nothing like this. After he had cast a Legilimens spell on Potter in class and was met by disgusting images in the boy's mind of himself prancing around, screeching about whores like some puffed-up peacock of a rock star, Snape had felt fully justified in giving the boy detention, then in expelling him for his subsequent disrespect and insolence. He had never thought of how the whole scene appeared to the other students in his class. The Headmaster's rebuke brought that home to him.

Later, Snape was shocked to hear that there were murmurings among the ungrateful little brats of a boycott of his classes in the wake of the confrontation. Sure, he could understand the Gryffindors would be annoyed. But then Iris Sprout approached him to say that the Hufflepuffs were in an uproar after hearing about the little scene between him and Potter in Potions class. Then, on Friday, several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in his master classes for sixth and seventh year students were absent without excuse. He deducted ten points each plus detentions, only to have the Headmaster quietly rescind the punishments.

He had also heard that students were spreading rumors that Potter had missed the first night of the Hogsmeade weekend because he was still recovering from 'the torture.' He even had to reprimand young Malfoy for spreading such false and idle gossip so blatantly. Then he heard that Potter, when he wasn't joined at the hip with that wog of his, had talked to the student leaders of the various houses that everything was fine, that the Headmaster had been sympathetic, and that there was no reason for alarm. Snape cringed that this arrogant young child thought he had the right to spring to his defense. He had never felt so humiliated in his life. He wanted to lash out at Potter for all he was worth. But in an odd moment of reflection, Snape suddenly realized that he only had himself to blame. He had acted precipitously. Foolishly. Very unSlytherin. Almost like a Gryffindor, he snorted at the thought.

Now, the Headmaster had laid down ground rules for proceeding with the Occlumency lessons. No probing into Potter's home life. No probing into his love life. Be careful about embarrassing moments. Be careful about happy moments. 'Merlin, what's left?' the Potions Master thought.

It was bad enough that he had to teach the arrogant little monster. But now, he was also vulnerable himself. What if the Dark Lord decided to access Potter's mind about him and his own loyalties? How could he explain himself to the Dark Lord that he was teaching Potter a defense against the one thing that He could use as a long-range weapon against the boy. Could he ... should he be an effective teacher knowing his very life may be at stake? Yet he knew the Headmaster was counting on him to be an effective teacher. But there were no explanations. What was this Potter boy to Dumbledore, the Order, and the fight against ... Him?

Snape sighed and began probing at what he could. He focused on Potter's first and second years, and his experiences with the Dark Lord. Maybe there were insights he could gain. Maybe there was an explanation buried in the boy's mind that would help him understand.

* * *

Harry felt the probe begin to work. He could feel the images pass quickly.

Ron, then Hermione, on the Hogwarts Express ... Snape's nasty welcome in his first day of Potions ... The Halloween feast and the troll in the girls' toilet ... The invisibility cloak!

Harry tried to concentrate on clearing his mind. Was it already too late? He looked around Snape's office frantically.

The Restricted Section of the Library late at night ... Skirting past Mrs. Norris, Snape and Filch ... Snape and Quirrell arguing late at night ... Fluffy ... Detention in the Dark Forest ... Malfoy's whining ... Voldemort and dead unicorn ... The ... the ...

Harry fixed on a specimen jar behind Snape's chair. It was a hairy little creature floating in some liquid.

...object floating in the jar ... Snape in the jar floating in some liquid ... Snape sneering through the glass of the jar, his hair swirling in the liquid ...

"Stop!" Snape cried, an angry look on his face. "I told you to clear your mind! You're projecting, not clearing!"

Harry raised his sweat-soaked face to the Potions Master. "It worked, didn't it."

Snape slammed his hand down on the desk. "You stupid twit! No, it did not work! You didn't block me or expel me from your mind! I chose to break the connection!"

Harry stared wearily at Snape, exhausted. "Still, it worked. Same difference."

Snape glowered at the boy. "No it is not! I should have known someone like you would try to find an easy way out! Some half-measure, a shortcut! You think that projecting an obnoxious thought will drive a determined Legilimens from your mind? I didn't agree to this to be mocked! If I chose, I would simply bore deeper into your mind and ignore your insulting thoughts!"

Harry glared back at Snape, challenging him with his eyes.

"Legilimens!" Snape shouted.

The abandoned girls' toilet ... He, Ron, and Hermione brewing the Polyjuice Potion ... Hermione as Millicent Bulstrode's cat ... Moaning Myrtle cackling in delight ... Moaning Myrtle being flirtatious ... Myrtle flirting with Snape ... Myrtle caressing Snape's face with her cold, insubstantial hands ... 'No maiden Auntie kisses for me ... Come into by toilet, professor, and give me a wet one,' she purrs in her nasal, baby-talk voice.

"Stop it, Potter!!!" Snape shouted, fuming. "I don't have to take this!"

Harry was sitting across from Snape, panting, the sweat falling off his lowered head.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Legilimens!"

'Concentrate,' Harry thought.

Neville ... Ignore the greasy git until you're sure your potion is correct ... Powdered dragon bone ... Malfoy doesn't know the answer ... Parvati and I studied this, I know the answer ... But opening the leg? ... It stands to reason ... Maybe that's right ... Or a good guess, anyway ... It's better than nothing ... I'm right! I got it right! ... Damn him for deducting points from Hermione! ... What's he doing to me? ... Arrrrgh!

Snape snapped back. He stared at Potter, who looked like he was about to collapse. "Enough, Potter," he snapped. "Time's up. Get your things and go!"

Harry slowly looked up at the Potions Master through narrowed eyes. He gathered his satchel and made his way out of Snape's office. Snape could hear Malfoy and Parkinson suddenly laugh through the door. "Those cauldron bottoms better be clean, Potty," he heard Parkinson say with an evil laugh. Malfoy was chuckling. "Did you have fun, Potter? Looks like you've had a week's worth of detention in one night," Malfoy remarked, suddenly giving a barking laugh. Snape flicked his wand and the door closed on whatever other comments were being made.

Snape leaned back, puzzled. 'Brewing Polyjuice Potion in Second Year? Even with Granger's help, that was some feat. And Potter figured out the answer to the question about powdered dragon bone and broken legs on his own,' Snape thought wearily. 'The boy is arrogant, thick-headed and obnoxious. But maybe he isn't as stupid as I thought.'

* * *

ANNOUNCEMENT

The Daily Prophet is pleased to announce the appointment of Marcel Voleur as Publisher. Voleur has over 30 years of experience in publishing, having begun here at The Daily Prophet as a sales representative. He went on to various increasingly responsible positions at other publications, most recently as publisher of Witch Weekly and Teen Witch Weekly. The Daily Prophet welcomes Mr. Voleur and looks forward to a long and profitable association with him.

Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, tossed his copy of The Daily Prophet on his desk, interlaced his fingers behind his head, and smiled. "Looks like we now have a real ally in the press," he said smugly.

Sejanus Cross nodded. "We've always had good relations with the Prophet," he observed.

Fudge nodded absently. "How long?"

Sejanus frowned. "For what?"

"Until Potter reaches his majority?"

Sejanus frowned. "End of July next year. About a year and a half."

Fudge nodded. "Enough time. But best we get started soon."

Sejanus chuckled. "Maybe he and You-Know-Who will kill each other and solve all our problems. And take Lucius with them."

"That would be perfect," Fudge sighed.

Sejanus nodded. "Well, we can still count on our friends at the Prophet."

"Yes, the Ministry has always had good relations with the Prophet," Fudge said absently. "Now I have good relations with the Prophet. Old Maxie and I go back a long way together," he said with a chuckle. "A long way."

* * *

The editorial meeting was just getting started. Rita Skeeter took her seat at the conference table in the editorial offices of Witch Weekly. She peered around the table through her thick glasses. "So? Does this mean my story comes off the spike?"

Sadie Ryder, the senior investigative reporter on Witch Weekly and fast becoming both a mentor and friend, looked across the table and gave Rita a small smile. Sadie then turned to William Castle, editor in chief. "Well, Bill?"

Castle, elegant as always in royal blue robes, leaned back. He gave an embarrassed cough. "It's a very dangerous move on our part." He said with a sigh. "But it's a hell of a piece of journalism." Finally, he took a deep breath. Then he gave a curt nod. "The Cover. Next week."

Rita and Sadie smiled and nodded to each other.

* * *

Wednesday afternoon prefects meetings were a lot less interesting these days. When the Golem crisis was at its peak, there was tension, sure, but there was a sense of mission, of purpose. The late night patrol reports were no longer just for yawns, but really seemed to mean something. And new business took on an ominous, exciting tone.

Now, the meetings had returned to the realm of the dull, with Head Boy Roger Davies presiding in a pompous manner, Head Girl Angelina Johnson adding acerbic comments that Roger either didn't get or chose to ignore, the occasional sniping matches between prefects from rival houses, and ghastly debates, often sparked by Terry Boot or Mandy Brocklehurst, over the fine points of student deportment.

So Harry simply listened, adding his comments on issues he thought might be relevant, but otherwise keeping to himself. The one thing that kept him from sleeping through what generally ended up an hour-long ordeal was the frequent quiet asides from Millicent Bulstrode, usually poking fun at the speakers if not at Harry himself.

But this day was a little different. As he sat there, listening to Roger Davies read aloud from the Wizards' Meetings Rules of Order over some fine procedural point, Millicent grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him close. "Harry. We've got to talk about a couple of your first years after the meeting," she whispered.

When Roger finally gaveled the meeting to a close, Harry got up to let Hermione know he wouldn't he accompanying her back to Gryffindor. But she was still talking to Terry, so he shrugged and turned to Millicent.

"What did my kids do now?" he asked with a smile.

Millicent gave him a serious look. "Not here. Let's go somewhere quiet," she said.

Harry gave her a mischievous grin. "To our favorite snogging spot? You're not planning to take advantage of me, are you?"

Millicent gave a throaty laugh. "In your dreams, Pottie. Haven't I told you enough times already? First of all, Parvati would kill you. Second, and even more important, she might try to besmirch my reputation." She grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him laughing out of the meeting room.

They finally settled on a nearby empty classroom.

Harry became more serious now that they were alone. "What's wrong, Millie?"

She looked down thoughtfully. "It's your two little ones--Peters and Duffy."

Harry looked at her with alarm. "Willie and Maura?"

Millicent nodded. "I didn't want to raise it at the meeting because I don't quite know what's going on. But I thought you should know."

Harry nodded in anticipation.

"I've caught them a couple times in an alcove in the dungeons near our house. They were trying to keep out of sight. The girl got upset both times, claiming I was spying on their snogging sessions. Once, I caught them peeking in the other direction and it was only after they saw me that the girl grabbed the boy in an awkward embrace as if they were actually snogging. If they are, I think you better talk to them. They're awfully young for that. But I think they were up to no good and were using snogging as a cover."

Harry was caught between being appalled and laughing out loud. "I don't know what to say," he said, and suddenly burst into chuckles. Even Millicent had to smile.

When Harry finally recovered, he looked up at Millicent. "Look, they were probably out to pinch some potions ingredients from the general supply locker. If I find out they have, I'll take them both over my knee. If it's something more serious, I'll let you know and we can decide what to do," he said, becoming more serious. "I seriously doubt they were snogging, although Maura has shown more than her share on interest in the subject and I know Willie has at least a passing acquaintance with Gentleman Wizard magazine. I'll talk to them."

Millicent nodded. "I appreciate that," she said, turning to leave. Then she turned back briefly. "Oh...I'm sorry I don't have the time at the moment to snog you. I guess you'll have to settle for Parvati...at least for tonight," she said with a laugh.

"Heartbreaker," Harry called out to her as she left."

* * *

Harry had called Maura and Willie to sit in the quiet seat in the first years' corner of the common room. "I hear that a couple of our first years have been caught snogging in the dungeons recently," he said in a serious tone.

Willie and Maura turned to look at each other, blushing furiously.

"Anyone want to explain?" he said sternly.

Willie looked down at his feet and Maura shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you know the punishment for first-year snogging?"

Maura and Willie looked up in anxious anticipation.

Harry nodded sternly. "Well, we gather the whole house into the common room and make the couple snog in front of everybody."

The firsties looked terrified. Willie was the first to panic. "We weren't snogging! We were just trying to figure out a way to get some mandrake scrapings for a potion we wanted to try! But the supply cabinet is locked and we can't figure out to open it!"

Maura was almost in tears. Harry stared at her. "Are you sure you weren't snogging. My friend Millie says you were."

Maura shook her head forcefully. "Nah-uh. We wanted to make an invisibility potion. One that Fred and George told us about. But we couldn't find the ingredients and couldn't get into the supply room."

Harry nodded sternly, pursing his lips hard to keep from smiling. "So, what do you think your punishment should be?"

Willie looked to Maura. Maura's eyes were filling with tears. "We could clean your room...and Hermione's, too."

Harry shook his head. "The house elves take care of most of that. And Hermione and I weren't the one you wronged. You lied to my friend Millicent, and she's a prefect. I think you should apologize to her."

Maura's eyes went wide. "But she's a Slytherin. And she's always talking to that creepy guy."

Harry frowned. "What creepy guy? Malfoy?'

Willie shook his head. "No, the skinny one with the crooked teeth."

Harry blinked. "Cronin Montague?"

Maura nodded her head. "Yeah, that Monty guy."

Harry's frown deepened. "Not like boyfriend-girlfriend talk."

Maura and Willie looked at each other thoughtfully. "No," Maura said. "Like he was being nasty to her and she would get mad and say something back. Like he's always telling her what to do and stuff and she doesn't like it. She doesn't like him. We heard her use a terrible word after he walked away once."

Harry shook his head thoughtfully. "Well, whatever. She's still a prefect. And a very nice person. Do you think it's okay to lie and cheat and mistreat someone just because they are from another house?"

Willie shook his head in shame. Maura looked embarrassed.

"All right, then. Tomorrow at breakfast, I'll take you over to the Slytherin table and introduce you to Millicent. And you can apologize for lying to her."

Willie looked upset. "In front of everyone?"

Harry nodded. "In front of everyone."

Maura, blushing again, finally nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said in a small voice.

"Me, too," Willie squeaked.

Harry nodded. "Don't let this happen again. Okay?"

The chastened couple nodded. Harry quickly checked to make sure neither had crossed their fingers in the time-honored eleven-year-old manner of avoiding obligations. Satisfied that the two were being a sincere as two little devils could be, he grabbed them both in a rough hug. They both gave grudging giggles and he left them in their corner.

But as Harry walked back to his dorm, he was lost in thought. 'Why would anyone talk to Cronin Montague if they could possibly avoid it?'

* * *

It had been two weeks since Lakshmi Patil had introduced Snuffles to the workers at Warehouses No. 1 through 3 near the docks at Portsmouth. Several of the witches and wizards expressed dismay at the size and intimidating demeanor of the beast. But Miss Patil assured them that the new director of security, Sirius Black, had trained the beast personally, and there was nothing to fear.

Lakshmi was even pleased when Sebastian Sweet, the general manager of the warehouses, went out of his way to make friends with the beast, giving him the occasional scraps from the lunch table when Snuffles was around. However, Lakshmi took pains to limit the dog's exposure to the warehouses, although she did occasionally let him stay the night in one or the other as sort of guard dog and companion to the night watchwizards.

* * *

Flynn O'Meara was not particularly fond of dogs. But there wasn't that much Flynn O'Meara was fond of lately. Which made his job as the night guard at Patil Warehouse No. 1 an ideal job. He didn't have to deal with people much. Only the occasional visit from one of the higher ups with an emergency shipment coming in or out in the middle of the night. And these generally were not bulk orders, but small, special packets or potion ingredients for such places as the Ministry or St. Mungos.

Flynn O'Meara was irascible. But that was because Flynn O'Meara thought he was losing his mind. It was becoming harder and harder to remember things. And the fewer people around, the better he could ponder what was happening to him.

No, Flynn O'Meara didn't like people. And he didn't particularly like dogs. Snuffles seemed to sense this and generally left him alone when the mutt decided to stay the night. He occasionally saw the dog glance up and give him a look. But otherwise, Snuffles kept to himself, just as Flynn kept to himself. Which left Flynn to think that maybe this was a smart dog after all.

It was after midnight when the knock came at the side door of Warehouse No. 1. Flynn slowly rose and wandered over, using a transparency charm to check the identity of the caller. It was Sebastian Sweet, the general manager. Flynn shook his head. Sweet was a bit to jovial for his tastes but, as a big boss, he wasn't too bad. Not like that officious Patil witch and her overly enthusiastic young cousin, Jay Patil.

Flynn sighed and cast a series of identity checking and unlocking charms on the door. He had to be careful, as these charms were quite complex and had to be performed in a specific sequence to undo the extreme security measures. He didn't notice Snuffles raise his head to observe the actions.

"Flynn, my boy," Sweet said in a weary voice. "We have an emergency shipment to go out." The general manager shook his head sadly as he entered. Sweet glanced around the warehouse and saw Snuffles. "Ah, my good friend Snuffles. I have something for you." Sweet produced a large slice of raw beef and tossed it over to the dog. Snuffles caught it enthusiastically in his mouth and ran around a corner to a small dark area to savor the treat.

Snuffles, when he got to his little hideaway, dropped the meat and sniffed it carefully. There was a nearly overwhelming desire to eat the treat. But Snuffles paused. There was something that was not right here. He sniffed again, recalling the thousands of nights in Azkaban where, as an animagus, we would have given anything for such a delicacy. But again, he resisted. There was a subtle, indefinable odor on top of that of the flesh itself that gave him pause.

Snuffles edged the meat into a dark corner under a heavy piece of canvas and slowly made his way back into sight where he allowed himself to be viewed plopping down awkwardly and appeared to go to sleep.

But Snuffles watched.

Sweet smiled as he noticed the large dog topple, his tongue hanging out. He then turned to O'Meara. "Dragon hide. Chinese Red. Twenty bolts. The Ministry suddenly decided to reequip its Auror services and, of course, they have to have it right away."

O'Meara frowned. "That's a heavy load," he muttered.

Sweet shrugged. "It's not like you have to physically lift it yourself."

O'Meara muttered again and disappeared down one of the aisles of the warehouse.

Snuffles continued to loll on the floor of the warehouse but continued to keep alert, despite appearances. He noticed another wizard enter. This one he recognized. Paulie Gilpin, a petty thief he had encountered during one of this forays into the back alleys of P-Town, the Wizarding community around Portsmouth.

Gilpin sidled up to Sweet. "He getting it?"

Sweet nodded. "Time to show your gold, Paulie."

Gilpin slowly withdrew a heavy purse and opened it. Snuffles could see that these weren't just regular Galleons. These were 'Cartwheels,' the 20-Galleon Gold pieces so rarely seen in the dives Gilpin normally hung out.

Sweet passed his wand over the purse and nodded. "They're real all right," he whispered.

But when he reached for the purse, Gilpin snatched it back and pocketed it. "Not until I get the hides."

Then O'Meara appeared, sweating and seeming to struggle to maintain the balance of the pallet contain the bolts of iridescent red dragon hide. "Where dya want it?" he said in a strained voice.

"The cart outside," Sweet replied.

Snuffles watched Gilpin and Sweet as they peered out of the broad warehouse door. Then he heard the heavy thump of the pallet hitting the bed of the Wizarding cart. It was only at that point that Gilpin took out his purse again. He quickly counted out 50 Cartwheels--over three pounds of pure gold--into Sweet's hand.

Snuffles blinked nervously. In his animagus form, math didn't come easy. But that didn't seem right. Chinese Red Dragon hide went for over 100 Galleons a bolt. But Gilpin was paying ... 1000 Galleons for twenty bolts--50 Galleons each? Snuffles blinked as he went over the numbers several times in his head. So he slowly and unobtrusively edged back into the shadows.

O'Meara sauntered in, still sweating from hauling the hides. "Okay, boss. Just got to sign the log and get a couple signatures on the invoices, like always."

Sweet smiled at the night watchwizard. "Sure thing. Oh, and Flynn?"

Flynn O'Meara looked up to see Sweet's wand pointed at him. "Obliviate," Sweet said.

O'Meara staggered backward and Sweet caught him. Slowly, Sweet moved O'Meara back to his guard table and set him in a chair. Sweet didn't seem to register any emotion as he did this. Just another day at work.

Then he turned to find not Snuffles, but Sirius Black, his wand pointed at Sweet's nose. "Call Gilpin back," Sirius muttered.

Gilpin came as summoned and Sirius immediately stunned him. The he turned back to Sweet, who Sirius had disarmed. Sirius merely shook his head sadly. He quickly pressed his wand to the warehouse alarm panel. Within moments, Aurors had arrested two major sources of Patil Imports's 'Inventory Shrinkage' problem, Sweet and Gilpin, and sent poor dotty Flynn O'Meara to St. Mungos. Sirius Black was earning his keep.

* * *

Harry flopped down in his seat between Hermione and Parvati at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for breakfast. Things had been tense in Potions the day before, as they had ever since Snape's blow-up a couple weeks before. There had been a sense of outrage among the Gryffindors that had surprisingly been picked up by the Hufflepuffs and some of the Ravenclaws. Even one or two of the younger Slytherins had quietly mentioned that their head of house had been unfair.

Harry shook his head. Snape had been subdued in class, but had been brutal in their first Occlumency session together. Snape had been abrupt, ordering Harry to clear his mind, then invading his thoughts. In that first session, Snape seemed mainly to concern himself with Harry's memories of Voldemort in their first two years. There seemed to be nothing Harry could do to short of simply focusing on one of the bizarre specimens in a jar in Snape's office. Snape yelled that this was not the appropriate response and probed time after time until Harry was exhausted.

When the session was over, an exhausted Harry exited Snape's office, only to run into Malfoy and Pansy, who smirked and commented about Harry's bedraggled appearance, saying that they hoped Harry enjoyed scrubbing cauldron bottoms.

Harry shook his head. Malfoy had been quiet since the incident with the Golem. But he knew this was too good to last. It seemed that Malfoy, despite losing his fortune and his two bodyguards, was back to being full of himself again. Harry shook his head in annoyance.

He looked up from his place at lunch and saw Lavender, Seamus and Dean staring over his shoulder. He frowned. "What's going on?" he asked.

Lavender frowned. "Something's going on over at the Hufflepuff table," Lavender said in a puzzled voice.

Harry and Parvati turned. Clearly, the level of conversation and animation among the Hufflepuffs was much higher than normal. And it seemed to be centered on Susan Bones, who looked nervous. Harry could see Hannah holding her hand and whispering with a smile on her face. Several of the other fifth-year Hufflepuffs, along with some students from other years, were all standing near her looking at her or looking up at the ceiling.

Suddenly, Harry heard the familiar sounds of owls entering the Great Hall to deliver the mail. Harry turned back to the Gryffindor table. He wasn't expecting anything as Tony and Mae's weekly letter usually came on Thursday, by way of the general Muggle post relayed by the Wizarding Post Office in Hogsmeade.

The owls descended on the various tables, dropping off letters, newspapers and magazines to students around the Great Hall.

Suddenly there was a laughter and a great deal of squealing coming from the Hufflepuffs again, with several classmates hugging Susan Bones. It seemed that most of the students at the other tables were aiming puzzled stares in that direction.

Finally, Harry turned back, still at a loss over what was going on among the Hufflepuffs, when he heard Lavender gasp.

The surrounding Gryffindors jerked their heads in Lavender's direction. Lavender simply looked up and turned around her copy of Witch Weekly. On the cover was a picture of Amelia Bones, sitting on a couch with her niece Susan, turning from looking at each other to looking at the camera. Underneath the photo was a simple caption: "Is This the Next Minister of Magic?"

* * *

"Oh my God," Hermione muttered as she read over Ginny's shoulder. Ginny was sharing Rachel Weiss's copy of Witch Weekly with Ron, Harry and Parvati as Seamus, Dean and Neville were reading over Lavender's shoulder.

Hermione looked up and then across at the Hufflepuff table. There were clots of people up and down all the House tables gathered and reading the story over each others' shoulders. And the buzzing in the Hall did not sound like the normal level of conversation, but instead sounded like the intense humming of a busy beehive.

"She was Head Girl? And a Slytherin? Does Dad know this?" Ron said in shock. "He really likes her. I'll bet he never knew she was a Slytherin," he said in disgust.

Ginny looked up. "Of course he knew, you dolt!" she exclaimed. "But Madame Bones is a great Minister of Law Enforcement."

Ron gave his sister a startled look. "But she's a Slytherin," he complained.

Ginny reached over and smacked Ron on the back of his head.

Hermione made a quick glance up at the faculty table. McGonagall, who looked amused, and Dumbledore, who looked disconcerted, were obviously engrossed in the article. Snape seemed to be staring off into space, but his lips seemed to be moving, obviously talking out of the side of his mouth to Moody, who seemed to be nodding and glancing around himself.

She returned her attention to the crowd now gathered around the Gryffindor table. She caught Harry's eye. "Do you know what this is?"

Harry frowned. "It's real interesting," he said, deep in thought.

Hermione took a deep breath. "This is practically an indictment of Fudge. Look at all the cases where Fudge messed up and Madame Bones was right. Even when she's being diplomatic, Fudge ends up looking like a fool. Like where Madame Bones says how the Ministry is working tirelessly to make sure there are no more surprises regarding You-Know-Who. Just a couple weeks ago, Fudge made this big speech about a new era of prosperity now that V-Voldemort is dead."

Parvati suddenly looked up. "You know what this means, don't you?"

Hermione turned a puzzled look to her roommate and rival.

Parvati frowned thoughtfully. "It means that Fudge is going to try to strike back. I wouldn't want to be Rita Skeeter right now. Or Amelia Bones ... or Susan."

* * *

Sejanus Cross leaned back in the plush visitor's chair in the office of the publisher of The Daily Prophet. "So you know what needs to be done, Max?"

Marcel Voleur, formerly Max Vole, sighed. "You want a hatchet job on Amelia Bones?"

Cross templed his fingers under his chin as he stared out the broad one-way window looking out on a busy Diagon Alley. "I wouldn't say that, precisely. Maybe, you could start out small. Maybe a little something here and there to blunt some of the assertions in that rag you used to work. Maybe something that reflects on her character to start. Maybe something about how she raised that niece of hers. Maybe we can even involve the Potter boy. That would be received very well at the Ministry. But we'll start small. Understand?"

Voleur frowned. "What's in it for me?"

Sejanus Cross smiled. "Oh, maybe we will continue to post our official announcements in the Prophet, rather than switching to something like the Morning Sunrise ... "

Voleur snorted. "That rag?"

" ... or the Quibbler."

Voleur gave a barking laugh. "Fudge wouldn't do that and you know it."

Cross gave Voleur a soft smile. "And maybe those embezzlement charges from a few years ago will remain buried."

Voleur's face went ashen. "He ... wouldn't. I already paid him 5,000 Galleons to make them go away."

Cross smiled more broadly. "And he made them go away. Now, we must make sure they don't come back."

* * *

Voleur was furious. Fudge hadn't even said what he wanted. He just expected a hatchet job, starting with a series of small chops. He walked over to the far corner of his office. A quick wave of his wand and his secret filing cabinet appeared. He muttered the unlocking charm and the top drawer opened. 'There has to be something in here I can use,' he thought.

After thumbing through the files on the top two drawers, he opened the third and saw something. He gave a small shrug and pulled the thick file and went back to his desk. He began looking through the photos he managed to steal and duplicate from that Hogwarts kid when they did that piece on Potter's fight with You-Know-Who in his old publication, Witch Weekly. What was his name? Craven? Creevey? Something like that.

He shook his head. 'Bloody unicorns,' he muttered as he went through the top of the pile. 'Quidditch matches. Student life shots. Maybe good for mood shots. Mug shots.' He suddenly grabbed a photo of a clearly angry Potter and tossed it on the desk. He frowned. One of Susan Bones and several other girls jumping up and down in excitement, probably taken at a Quidditch match. He tossed that one on his desk. Then he stopped. There was a shot of a pretty young girl wrapped in a towel, a thick mop of blond hair tumbling from beneath a loose towel, gesturing angrily at the camera. 'Obviously fresh from a shower,' Voleur thought. Then he looked closer. Were they urinals in the background? 'Perhaps, she was fresh from something else,' he said to himself with a smile. He leaned forward and activated the Floo-a-fone. The screen flared to life in small green flames. "Doris, get me Bozo."

* * *

It had been two weeks since the last, nearly disastrous, Hogsmeade weekend. And now, Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed. Some Hogsmeade weekend this new one was turning into. Somehow, Parvati had talked him into a double date with Padma and Terry Boot. Instead of the Three Broomsticks, it was Madame Puddifoot's. The food was fine and there wasn't a crowd. But that made for fewer distractions. And distractions were absolutely the top priority when dealing with Terry.

It had started out all right. Just general chatting about teachers, classes and classmates. Harry had to smile about the twins' thumbnail sketches of the various members of each others' houses. Soon, they were joking and laughing and having a grand time.

Then Terry started. It began innocently enough, with Harry mentioning a neat little piece of transfiguration they had learned the previous week about taking splinters from various types of wood and combining them into exotic boards or wooden utensils that would show all the strengths of each of the different woods and eliminate most of their weaknesses.

Then Terry started talking about wood and trees in general. It was like a dissertation on the mundane. And what made it worse was that, after a few minutes, the girls started whispering and giggling to each other, leaving Harry stuck alone trying to change the subject. Somehow, his interjections about the best wood to be used for broom handles or the merits of various types of wood in wands was met with a blank stare by Boot, who would pause only long enough to catch his breath and resume his previous monologue.

Once the longest meal of his life was over, Harry realized that it was getting late. Not that it was truly late. They still had plenty of time before the last carriage back to Hogwarts left. But its was quite dark and students were making their way back.

As the four rose, Parvati cleared her throat. "We have to stop at the ladies' room. Why don't you two wait outside."

Harry shook his head. "Sure," he muttered. That's all he needed. Another 10 or 15 minutes providing Ravenclaw's answer to Professor Binns with a captive audience. But he and Terry dutifully wandered out of Madame Puddifoot's and stood to wait for their dates. Harry thought briefly about whether, if the February night air was cold enough, perhaps his ears would freeze off and he wouldn't have to listen to Terry's droning voice ever again.

It was a good 15 minutes later, while Harry began to worry that maybe his ears actually would fall off from the cold, that the girls at last appeared, both bundled up with their hoods over their heads. Harry chuckled about how Parvati's hood was lined in dark fur, while Padma's was in a pale tan fur.

Harry felt Parvati suddenly grab him by the arm and silently drag him toward the carriages. Harry scrambled to keep up and was puzzled that Parvati didn't wait for him so they could stroll back with their arms around each others' waists. But it was cold, he reasoned. Maybe she wanted to get in the carriages and out of the cold quickly. He snorted to himself. She should have thought about the cold when she sent him and Terry out in it earlier.

Parvati grabbed one of the last carriages and Harry opened the door and helped her up, then waited for Padma and Terry. He turned back to see Terry already into a new monologue as Padma hunched up against the cold and occasionally nodded. Harry gave a small shake of his head. How could she put up with that? No wonder she stayed quiet around him most of the time. Padma probably wasn't used to getting a word in edgewise. He sighed. Padma wasn't so meek and mild back at home during the holidays, he thought.

Harry was the last to board as he slid into the seat next to Parvati. He reached his arm around her shoulder and felt her stiffen, then slowly relax against him. Harry frowned. Then he felt her slowly slip her arm behind his back and around his waist. He suddenly felt more relaxed than he had all night. Maybe she's a little moody tonight, he thought.

Once the carriages arrived back at Hogwarts, Harry jumped down and helped Parvati down, the Terry did the same for Padma. But again, Parvati simply grabbed Harry's arm, rather than loop her arm around his waist. He paused as Terry and Padma passed. He saw Padma reach her gloved hand and grab Terry's. Terry turned in surprise and smiled. Then the two headed through the large doors and entered the castle.

Harry and Parvati followed, arm in arm. It was nearly as cold inside the corridors of the castle as outside. Harry was now seriously frowning. He knew that, on the last Hogsmeade weekend, they had their big fight and even bigger make-up session. He still cringed at the thought that they had been caught in Parvati's room asleep by Lavender. And he was mortified when Ron mentioned later that Hermione was actually the one who had discovered them, but chose to let Lavender be the one to wake them.

But still, that shouldn't be any reason for Parvati to be less demonstrative than usual. Harry suddenly felt an odd chill unrelated to the weather. 'What if Death Eaters had gotten into Madame Puddifoot's and assumed Parvati's and Padma's identities. Or maybe ...'

Then Harry smiled a knowing smile. He casually reached over and tugged back Parvati's hood. 'That's Parvati's Gryffindor tie and her white blouse and pale blue jumper,' he thought. 'But ...'

She turned to him. "Harry, it's cold in here," she complained with an uncertain smile.

Harry now chuckled. He reached over and pulled her braid out from under her cloak and gave it a playful tug. "You know how I love to play with your hair," he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes and returned his smile.

By this time, the group was near the main staircases which would lead Harry and Parvati back up to the Gryffindor Tower. Harry gave her a cocked eyebrow. But she simply gave him a small smile. "Let's walk Padma and Terry back to the Ravenclaw staircase first. I think she could use the company," she whispered.

As she turned to follow the other couple, Harry frowned at first, then let an evil grin play across his features. "Okay," he said in a husky voice, trying to mask a chuckle.

The two walked past the chapel entrance, then past an office. That's when Harry saw it. The old closet where he had confronted Malfoy at the beginning of the year. He looked down the hall and saw Terry and his companion open the Ravenclaw staircase door and slip through.

At that point, Harry lunged and grabbed her around the waist and dragged her over to the closet. He quickly opened the door and practically carried her inside. She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes and gasped.

But Harry threw his arms around her and backed her against the wall, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "Oh, you don't know how much I need you! I don't think I could have lasted another minute with those two!"

"Eeep!" she squeaked.

Harry backed off just enough to give her a smoldering look. "I need you! I have to have you! I feel like tearing your robes off right now! Let's make love! Right here! Right now!"

She gave him a panicked look. Just as she was about to say something, he squeezed her tightly, pushing the air out of her lungs, and pressed his body up against her. "Now! Please! I feel like I'm about to burst."

She squeaked incoherently as he again buried his face in the crook of her neck. Slowly, he raised his lips and grabbed an earlobe. "Just one thing before we start," he said, breathless with passion. "Was this your idea ... or Parvati's?"

Padma suddenly tensed and gasped. "Whaaaa ... What?" she managed to voice several octaves too high.

Then, she could feel him quivering. Her eyes widened even more. 'What was he doing?' she thought in a panic. Then she could hear it. He was chuckling. He was not just chuckling, he was quietly heaving in laughter. "Harry Potter!" she gasped out loudly. He then pressed his moistened lips against her neck ... and exhaled harshly against her skin, making a rude noise.

"Ewwwww!" she exclaimed.

Before Padma could get up a good head of steam to respond to Harry's playful action, the closet door was flung open. Parvati stepped in and gasped, seeing her boyfriend and her twin sister in what looked like a passionate embrace. "What ... ?"

Harry turned to her with an evil smile. "Uh, a little privacy, if you please, Parvati," Harry said calmly with an evil grin. "Padma and I have some unfinished business."

Parvati dove at him, and Padma pushed him away, both squealing in mock outrage and laughter. The two girls managed to tackle him and began swatting and pinching him for all they were worth. Harry, for his part, began poking the two in the ribs. They weren't especially ticklish, but Harry knew Parvati's ticklish spots and tried to find Padma's, as well.

Suddenly, amid the commotion, they heard a scratching on the door to the closet. They stopped instantly and looked at each other. "Mrs. Norris," Harry whispered, barely being heard.

The three stared in panic. Then Harry remembered how he had cornered Draco in this closet and knew there was a hidden door. He swiftly got to his feet and went to the back wall, feeling around and finding nothing. 'What was the spell Malfoy used?' he wondered.

Finally, he simply backed up. "Alohamora," he muttered. The three in the closet heard a click, but could see little in the dark. So Harry approached the back wall again. From the dim utility light spell maintained in all Hogwarts closets, Harry could make out a small smudge and some fingerprints on small portion of the back wall. He put his hand over the smudge and pushed, and a door opened.

There was a sudden noise from outside the closet as he could hear Filch muttering about naughty students come to pay the piper, and Harry motioned Parvati and Padma to go through the doorway. Harry could hear the jingle of some keys just as he slipped in behind the twins and closed the secret door. He could just make out Filch cursing that the door had been unlocked all the time and start rummaging through the contents of the closet.

Harry motioned with his head as the girls scurried up a set of stone steps. There was a sudden bend in the stairs and a landing big enough for the three to stand together. The three caught their breaths and again looked at each other, then around at another set of stairs that went down and to the left. "Where do they lead?" Padma whispered.

Harry shrugged. "I saw Malfoy use these once. They probably lead down to Slytherin."

Padma gave a shudder, but Harry shrugged. "Would you rather go back and face Filch?"

The twins shook their heads.

Suddenly, Parvati grabbed his shoulder. "When did you know it was Padma?" she demanded.

Harry snorted. "I suspected from the start," he said with a smirk. "I should have expected something like this when Padma showed up with a fringe just like yours last month."

"How did you know?"

Harry chuckled. "She didn't grab me around the waist like you always do, for one. And you grabbed Terry's hand on the way into the castle. He seemed surprised. I should have known then."

Parvati made a rude noise. "Oh, you didn't suspect a thing," she said dismissively.

Harry continued to chuckle. "But when I yanked back her hood. I can tell you apart easily. Then, when I grabbed her braid, I saw it was still longer than yours. That was the clincher."

Parvati smirked. "And how could you tell us apart so easily just by looking?"

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Well, her features are a little softer than yours. Her face is a little wider. And she's so much prettier ... " he said, stifling laughter, as Parvati slapped him in the arm in mock fury and a blushing Padma broke out in giggles.

Harry grabbed Parvati and gave her a quick kiss. "So was that your idea? You want to share me with your sister."

At that point, Padma made a choking noise and Parvati glared at him. "We just had to try it," she growled. Then she grabbed Harry and pushed him into the wall of the stairwell. "Now you listen to me, Harry Potter! I love my sister dearly and I've shared everything with her all my life. But I will not share my boyfriend with her ... or anyone!" she whispered intensely.

Harry put his arms around Parvati and gave her a tight hug. "I'm glad," he whispered in her ear.

Padma cleared her throat. "Well, what are we going to do?"

Harry sighed and let Parvati go. "Come along then," he whispered and began to descend the stone staircase. 'This is something to check out on the Marauder's Map,' he thought with a grin.

The stairs descended to another platform. Harry held his lumos charm high and examined the walls until he saw a slight seam in one wall. "Alohamora," he whispered and the crack widened. He carefully opened what turned out to be a door in just a crack. It was the corridor leading to Slytherin House. Then he heard some voices and held his breath. They were girls' voices.

The voices continued to get louder. " ... you just want him for yourself," a familiar voice whined.

"You just listen to me, you stupid little bint. You leave him alone about his father. I hear you going on about his fortune. But he is trying to be his own man for once in his life. Don't play with him like that."

"I'll do what I want, you fat cow," the first voice exclaimed. Harry now knew it was Pansy Parkinson, who was arguing with Millicent Bulstrode. "If he doesn't get together with his father, he'll lose the fortune, the Manor, everything!"

Millicent snorted. "If you cared about him, none of that would matter," she said in a strained voice.

Pansy snorted back. "Without it, what is he, anyway?"

Harry heard a sharp intake of breath. "What do you mean?"

He listened as Pansy paused. "It's not like he's the best looking boy around. He's not Roger Davies or Justin, or even Ernie Macmillan. Hell, he's not even old scarface Potter. And it's not like he's all that great in bed. So don't give me that crap about how special he is. But he's rich, or could be, and he's a pureblood."

He could hear Millicent breathing heavily. "You are a stupid bitch, aren't you. You don't know about the Malfoys and pure blood, do you?"

Pansy sniffed. "They're pureblood as far back as records go. That's what I know. Just like my family."

"Yeah," Millicent said with disdain. "'Parkinson pure.' Generations of marrying the second cousins and the black sheep of pureblood families."

"Well that ends with me!" Pansy snapped. "Golden Snitch is within my reach and I'm going for it!"

Millicent growled sadly. "So you don't know the Malfoy curse."

"Yeah, it's the curse they use on anyone who gets in their way. And it's the curse I'll use on you if you interfere. I'll see him with his father and his fortune. Then ... well, we all know what his father did to his grandfather ... "

Suddenly, there were sounds of a scuffle and Pansy crying out. "Listen to me, you fool." Millicent yelled. "Stop pushing Draco to go dark," she growled. "You don't know what it's like, being allied with The Dark Lord. Never knowing when you might be called on to do something unspeakable. Is that what you want? To have to go hurt someone, or kill, to whore for him on a whim? To turn over your entire life, everything you have, everything you are, to someone who couldn't care if you lived or died?"

He heard Pansy gasp. "You mean ... ?"

He could hear heavy breathing. "Don't you know, you little whore, that Lucius Malfoy turned over his entire fortune to You-Know-Who after that little incident with Potter? He probably has to ask for pocket change if he wants to eat. There's nothing left of the Malfoy fortune. What the Ministry hasn't confiscated, You-Know-Who has."

Harry could hear Pansy sputter. "Well ... he'll get it all back ten-fold when the Dark Lord wins!" he shouted with more conviction than she felt.

Harry heard a sigh and then finally saw Millicent as his hidden vantage point through the crack as she walked toward the entrance to the Slytherin House entrance.

"You're one of them?" he heard Pansy ask.

Harry needed only to see her face through the shadowed crack in the door. Millicent Bulstrode was a Death Eater.

* * *

It was a long 15 minutes as Harry, Parvati and Padma waited for the dungeon hallway cleared of Slytherins. Harry carefully poked his head out of the doorway and, with a quick flick of his wand, tipped over a suit of armor in a loud crash. "Sorry mate," Harry quietly voiced to the armor, and saw one of the gauntlets make a rude gesture in defiance.

Once he heard Filch's footsteps, and then Filch's voice screaming about Peeves, Harry quietly led Parvati and Padma up the hidden stairwell back to the closet on the first floor. He glanced around and motioned Padma to rush to the Ravenclaw stairwell before grabbing Parvati's hand to lead her to the grand staircases and back up to the Gryffindor Tower.

He didn't say anything on the trip up the stairs. He just couldn't find the words.

* * *

B.Z. Zorch was not an animagus like Rita Skeeter. So he couldn't be the proverbial 'fly on the wall' when doing investigative reporting. But he was small and frail with a fine-boned face and was good with a glamour charm, allowing him to get into places others normally wouldn't be able to and able to blend into crowds well. And blend in he would here in the noisy Three Broomsticks on this, a Saturday night of a Hogwarts Hogsmeade weekend.

He never had any training in reporting. He had been just a photographer for most of his career. He had written small items as a stringer for Alohamora, the scandal sheet that promised to unlock the secrets of the Wizarding World, as well as a few small items for Witch Weekly and The Daily Prophet. And he had contributed to a few of Rita Skeeter's stories--at five sickles a column inch.

But now he had a whole investigative report to do for the Prophet. He had never done real reporting before, so he wasn't sure how to do it. But the publisher himself, Marcel Voleur, had personally told him what he wanted. And B.Z. Zorch aimed to please, regardless. After all, this was his big chance.

He checked his disguise, that of a young Slytherin girl, in the reflection in the plate glass of the Three Broomsticks, adjusted his wig and entered the overcrowded pub.

He slowly approached a few older Hogwarts boys at the bar just inside the entrance of the Three Broomsticks. "Excuse me," he asked in a falsetto. "I was looking for Susan Bones."

A couple of the boys turned and after eyeing Bozo, dressed as a young Slytherin girl, the sixth-year Ravenclaws smirked. "Why do you want to see her?" one asked with an arched eyebrow.

Bozo did his best blushing act. "I read the story about her and her Aunt and I wanted to meet her."

Another of the boys rolled his eyes. "She's back there with her girlfriends, Hannah Abbott and that lot," he said with a smirk.

Bozo looked puzzled "Not with her boyfriend?"

"Just the girls tonight," The first Ravenclaw boy said with a frown. "I think they like girls better than boys," he spat out.

The second Ravenclaw sixth year let out a laugh. "Just because Hannah slapped you before when you gave her a grope ... "

The first Ravenclaw boy shrugged. "It was worth it."

The second boy snorted. "Like you've got a chance. If Ernie Macmillan and Roger Davies aren't good enough for her ... "

The first boy frowned. "Lesbos, all of them ... "

Bozo smiled and angled away from the Ravenclaws and let his Quick-Quotes-Quill go to work.

* * *

It wasn't hard to spot Susan Bones. She was in the middle of a group of girls, obviously her classmates. There was a very pretty blond, an attractive bored girl with dark brown hair, an alert but mousy looking girl with dull light brown hair and a laughing black girl who was obviously teasing Susan and the blond about something.

Bozo eased his way toward the table, repeating over and over to himself that he was trying to pass as a young girl. As he arrived, he casually bumped the black girl's chair, causing her to jolt forward.

"Oh, I'm really sorry," Bozo said in a falsetto voice. "Oh, I'm so confused. I've never been here before and I don't know anybody and ... I'm such a clod."

The Hufflepuff girls all looked up in surprise. The pretty blond girl smiled warmly. "That's all right. I'm sure Megan will live."

Susan looked up with a puzzled expression. "Your first Hogsmeade weekend?"

Bozo nodded, taking care that he didn't dislodge the wig. "I never had anyone to go with before and I just got permission to go over Christmas."

Susan nodded. "I haven't seen you around before. I'm Susan Bones and this is Hannah Abbott. Your victim is Megan Jones, and this is Karen Holmes and the frump over here is Pamela Hutchinson."

Pamela frowned. "He'll pay," she muttered. She had just had one of her weekly fights with Michael Corner, so tonight was girls' night out. Of course, Susan would meet up with her boyfriend, Wayne Hopkins, before the night was out. But, at the moment, the other four Hufflepuff fifth years were dateless, Hannah and Pamela by choice and Megan and Karen ... well, because Megan was pining away for Lee Jordan and Karen was perpetually pining away for Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Bozo lowered his head, praying that the dim light wouldn't reveal his ruse. "I'm Penelope Rink. I'm a third year in Slytherin," he said in a small, high voice. "I ... don't really get along with anyone in my house but ... I sort of wanted to come to see what it's like."

The girls passed glances around, but seemed to accept Penelope at face value.

Bozo cleared his throat daintily. "I ... also wanted to see Harry Potter."

There were giggles around the table. "Join the club," Pamela said with a laugh, poking Karen Holmes.

"I still think Justin is cuter ... " Karen complained.

Megan gave an unladylike guffaw. "But you wouldn't throw him out of your bed if you found him there, would you," she exclaimed, leaning her head over toward her friend's forehead as the rest of the girls laughed.

Karen blushed. "Get in line, girl," Pamela added with a laugh.

Hannah suddenly brightened. "Penelope! Here come some of your classmates," she said with a smile. "I know some of them. They're third-year Slytherins, aren't they?"

A look of panic crossed Bozo's face. "Oh, I don't like them," he said in a squeak and scurried away.

The fifth year Hufflepuff girls looked at each other and shrugged.

As Bozo made his way out of the Three Broomsticks, he checked the tiny magical camera he had secreted in his robe, hoping that it had gotten the shot.

* * *

Bozo stood to the side of the entrance to the Three Broomsticks. After a quick circuit around the pub, he had located Potter and his girlfriend, sitting with a group of classmates. He quickly ascertained that a few were from Gryffindor, but most were from other houses. That was surprising, he thought. But maybe that would mean they wouldn't all leave together. That would make his next ploy easier.

Bozo once again checked his glamour charm and looked at his reflection in the plate glass window. He was satisfied that he could still pass for a young girl. He then repositioned his camera one more time, cast a warming charm, and commenced to wait.

It was just over an hour later that the students began to file out of the Three Broomsticks. Bozo kept a careful watch through the front window for Potter. Finally, he saw him and his girl approaching the door, thankfully alone.

Bozo carefully positioned himself out in the street in full view of the camera. As Harry and Parvati exited the Three Broomsticks, Bozo raised his wand and did a quick locking charm on the bar's doors to prevent briefly anyone from following after them. Then he moved his wand and let loose a jet of water that hit Parvati squarely in the face.

Harry turned quickly, wand out, his face a mask of fury. "Just hosing down your whore, Potter," Bozo growled as he set the camera to roll.

Harry let out a scream of fury and lunged for the unknown assailant, only to see the small figure back away in seeming terror.

When Bozo was sure he was out of view of the camera, he apparated out of reach and summoned the camera. Then he apparated back to Diagon Alley, where he had a good laugh. B.Z. Zorch was a master of this paparazzi ploy. But rarely had such a setup worked so well. He chuckled. 'Well, that's to be expected. He's just a kid and doesn't know any better,' Bozo thought smugly.

* * *

As always, the Grand Hall was at a dull roar as the students tucked in to their breakfasts. Then, as per usual, the morning owls came swooping down with the mail. Copies of The Daily Prophet were liberally distributed to those students who took subscriptions. Ron and Lavender grabbed their copies out of an overflowing pile of toast in the middle of the fifth year section of the Gryffindor table.

"BLOODY HELL!!!" Ron exclaimed.

Lavender simply screamed and fainted.

Parvati grabbed the paper and looked. There, taking up most of the front page of the paper was a photo of Lavender in her loosely fitting dressing gown, turning, then angrily putting her hand up to cover part of the camera lens, in what obviously was a boys' bathroom. The headlines screamed: "SEX SCANDAL AT HOGWARTS!"

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has become a den of sin and perversion, The Daily Prophet has learned. After an in-depth investigation, this paper can now reveal that the school, the foremost institution of magical learning in the world, has turned into a breeding house for Scarlet Women and Libertine Men. Many of the most prominent names in the Wizarding World are implicated, led by such people as Susan Bones, the niece of the Minister of Law Enforcement, and Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

~ ~ ~

"Lesbians," exclaimed one heart-broken Ravenclaw boy, referring to the younger Miss Bones's clique of girlfriends. "They like girls better than boys," he said with a sad sigh. "We don't have a chance," said another Ravenclaw boy, practically in tears.

The Bones's group of fallen women are known to have frequent drunken 'girls' nights out' gatherings where anything goes [see photo].

~ ~ ~

Potter, recently sexually linked with countless women in an article in Witch Weekly magazine, is a known predator of young girls. He forces girls to "Get in line" to receive his unwanted amorous attentions, according to one Hufflepuff girl.

"I fought off his advances and was then hexed by one of his women," says a shaken Slytherin girl. "Then I was given detention for it by one of the professors and forced to walk into the Great Hall so everyone could laugh at me," she said in tears.

~ ~ ~

The Ministry of Magic was outraged at the findings of The Daily Prophet's investigation. "We have ways of dealing with such perverted behavior," says Dolores Umbridge, a Ministry official who will be in charge of the Ministry's investigation of the matter. "A quick gelding charm would fix that problem once and for all."

"And to think, Harry Potter is behaving like this after being raised by a Minister," says Percy Weasley, an assistant to Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.

~ ~ ~

Harry stared at the photos. There was one of Megan Jones leaning over to press her forehead against Karen Holmes' in a seeming provocative manner with Susan and Hannah laughing in the background, captioned: "Drunken Late-Night Parties--No Boys Allowed."

But what caused Harry the most outrage was a picture of him, angrily approaching what looked like a small Hogwarts student, apparently a girl because of the long blond hair showing from under the hood, while this student was holding her hands up in a defensive posture. The caption read: "Out of Control: Drunken Harry Potter Preparing to Assault Defenseless Young Girl."

Harry crushed the paper in his hands. That wasn't a young girl. That was a small wizard who had just shot a fluvius spell in Parvati's face and called her a whore.

Harry looked up to see an upset Professor McGonagall look down at him. "Mr. Potter. The Headmaster needs to see you at once"

* * *

A furious and frightened Harry stormed into the Headmaster's office. "What's going on!" he shouted. "It's all lies! And what's this about a 'gelding' curse!!!"

The Headmaster withdrew his head from the fireplace and looked up at Harry with a worried look. "Harry, who knows where you live?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

Dumbledore calmed a little. "Who among your friends and acquaintances know about the Strowbridges?"

Harry was taken aback. "The ... uhhh ... What? Who cares about that? What are we going to do about all those lies in the Prophet?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "We will take care of that shortly. But first, please answer my question. Who knows about the Strowbridges?"

Flustered, Harry slowly took a seat. "I don't know ... Parvati and her parents. Maybe Padma. Sirius and Remus. Cyrus Jordan, Moody, Tonks, the other Aurors, Ben Chadwick and a couple more from this summer. Uh, Ron and Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny all came to pick me up this summer ... "

Dumbledore frowned. "But not Percy Weasley?"

Harry began to shake his head, then stopped. "Oh, I accidentally apparated this summer when I saw a guy about to fall off the roof. The Ministry sent Percy to investigate. I brought him home for supper."

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes closed.

There was a sudden commotion as first Percy Weasley, then Elpias Doge, stumbled out of the fireplace. Percy stood up quickly and brushed his Ministry robes off in annoyance. "Now see here, Doge. I'm very busy. I don't have time to go gallivanting ... " Percy's tirade dried up as he saw Harry and realized where he was. "You!" he exclaimed. "You pervert! Minister Fudge was right! You are no good! Stay away from my family! Especially my sister!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Mr. Weasley, please calm down."

Percy shot the Headmaster a glaring look. "What is this? I have important work to do!"

"Mr. Weasley!" Dumbledore continued a little more forcefully. "You are familiar with Mr. Potter's residence when not at Hogwarts?"

Percy continued to glare at the Headmaster. "Of course! He's always breaking the rules! I was sent to reprimand him myself for an unauthorized apparation during the summer. The Muggle minister and his wife who graciously took him in were very nice, but he is obviously beyond their, or anyone's, control!" Percy then turned back to glare at Harry.

"Mr. Weasley!" Dumbledore commanded, and Percy turned back to stare at the Headmaster. "You remember exactly where Harry lives.

"Yes. Little Something-or-other. In a vicarage ... "

"Obliviate!" Dumbledore said, casting the memory spell.

Percy suddenly stood there, blank-faced.

"You do not know where Harry lives when not at Hogwarts. You were never told," Dumbledore said in a milder voice. "You were quoted about this because ... " and Dumbledore paused.

" ... because you assumed that Minister Fudge, caring for heroes like Harry as he does, placed young Harry in the care of someone in the Ministry of Magic, someone on the Ministerial level, of course," doddering old Doge said with surprising authority. "While you do not know exactly where Mr. Potter lives, you assume that some Minister in the Ministry is providing him shelter. That is why you are so upset. Surely, no one in the Ministry could have led Mr. Potter astray in such a fashion."

Dumbledore turned to his aged compatriot. "Thank you," he whispered.

Percy seemed to come out of his trance. "Exactly! It's obvious Potter is staying with someone in the Ministry. Probably that ... that ... woman, Amelia Bones. She probably led him astray the way she did with her niece, Susan, the harlot! After all Minister Fudge did for that boy ... " he said, casting a poisonous look in Harry's direction, "providing him with care and shelter, he turns into a ... a ... libertine!"

Dumbledore lowered his chin to his chest. "Mr. Weasley. Percy," he said quietly but earnestly. "You are aware, I presume, of the potential consequences of your statement to the press?"

Percy turned back to Dumbledore. "Consequences? Of course. It shows that I am a loyal, upstanding member of the Ministry who will not tolerate such disgusting behavior!"

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "And you are, no doubt, aware that Mr. Potter's whereabouts when not at Hogwarts is a closely guarded secret?"

Percy snorted. "The Ministry has no secrets!"

Dumbledore nodded. " ... and that Voldemort would do anything to discover where young Harry lives ... "

Percy shuddered at the name, then bristled. "You-Know-Who is dead. Minister Fudge just two weeks ago ... "

" ... as would his henchmen, including Lucius Malfoy?"

Percy's mouth suddenly snapped shut. "Uh, Mr. Malfoy ... hasn't officially been convicted of anything ... " he stammered.

Dumbledore nodded. "So you would not be concerned if said Lucius Malfoy placed a wand to your head and demanded to know Harry's whereabouts?"

Percy paled at the thought. "Uhhh ... I suppose there may be one or two rogue Death Eaters still on the loose ... " he said in a shaky voice.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Your job? It affords some opportunity for travel?"

Percy now had a look of panic in his eyes. "I could go on fact-finding missions ... it would take me away from the Ministry--away from the center of the action. But ... "

Dumbledore smiled. "Perhaps a fact-finding mission to Romania, to see your brother Charlie, and to check on the state of dragon-keeping. Followed by a long vacation. You do have some vacation time coming?"

Percy nodded anxiously. "I've never taken a vacation since I began working for the Ministry," he said with a cracking voice. "I have twelve weeks vacation accrued ... "

Dumbledore nodded once again. "I do hope you have a pleasant vacation, Percy. It was wonderful talking to you again. I will pass along to my good friend Cornelius how helpful you have been in our investigation of this unfortunate matter."

With that, old Elpias Doge grabbed a weak-kneed Percy and led him to the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, he called out 'Ministry of Magic, Records Division,' and pushed Percy through.

Dumbledore gave his old friend a smile. "Thank you, Elpias. I hope I'm still as sharp as you when I'm your age."

Doge laughed and stepped into the fireplace himself.

Harry looked across at the Headmaster. "What was that about?"

Dumbledore sighed. "First things first, Harry. Percy's comment in the Prophet has alerted Voldemort to a possible lead to finding you or the Strowbridges. The little scene you just witnessed makes sure that won't happen. Plus, we had to protect our impetuous young Percy as best we could."

Harry nodded, then became angry again. "But what about all those lies in the Prophet? Parvati has horses, so I know what a gelding is! I'll leave the Wizarding world before I let them take that away from me!" he yelled, pacing frantically back and forth in front of the Headmaster's desk

Dumbledore frowned. "Do not concern yourself. We will think of something."

Harry flopped down in a chair. "Well, you better think fast or I'm leaving!" he said anxiously, crossing his legs tightly.

* * *

Harry walked down the spiral steps from the Headmaster's office and through the portal only to find a group of students waiting. He blinked as Parvati ran up and grabbed him. "Is everything going to be all right?" she asked practically in tears.

Harry shrugged. "The Headmaster is working on it," he mumbled, then looked around. "Neville, don't we have History of Magic now? Dumbledore gave me a pass ... "

Neville frowned. "We decided to wait around. We're here for you, Harry."

Harry looked around. Hermione and Ron were there, giving him a sympathetic look. So was an angry Lavender, who had come with Parvati. So was Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley. "We know they were all lies," Ernie mumbled. "About you and our girls."

He also noticed Mike Gillespie, the Quidditch player and sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect. And from Ravenclaw, there were his two Defense Association dueling opponents, John McKinnon from seventh year and Jake Prewett from sixth year. Then he noticed in the back, two vaguely familiar faces--something Janson and Padriag Connaugh, third-year Slytherins who he recognized from the D.A.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What are you two doing here?" he asked mildly.

The Janson boy looked nervous. "Well, we were behind you when the door locked at the Three Broomsticks," he stammered. "We saw what that guy did and then saw the camera go off. Nobody's asking us what happened, so we thought we'd tell you or somebody if we got the chance."

McKinnon blinked in surprise. "Guy?"

Connaugh nodded vigorously. "Yeah. When he apparated to get his camera, his wig slipped and he had short brown hair underneath. And he looked like a guy without the wig."

Harry stared at them, open-mouthed. "Nobody asked you?"

The two Slytherin boys shook their heads. "And to make it worse, he was pretending to be from Slytherin, but he wasn't. We would know," Janson added.

Harry nodded. "Thank you. I'll let the Headmaster know. And thank you all for being here."

McKinnon nodded. "Don't worry, Harry. If the Ministry comes to try anything, they'll have to come through me, first."

Several of the other students nodded.

Harry sighed. It didn't make the problem go away. But he felt a bit better.

Harry then looked at Parvati, who was holding tightly to his hand. "History class is almost over," he said quietly. "Might as well begin making our way to Charms.

Harry looped his arm over her shoulder and she wrapped an arm around his waist, and they began walking slowly toward the main staircase, not noticing the others pass by at a less leisurely pace. They continued to walk in silence until they got to the door of the staircase. Then Parvati stopped and faced Harry. "If you go, take me with you," she whispered urgently.

Harry stopped and frowned. "Who says I'm leaving?"

Parvati lowered her head. "If you do, I'm coming with you," she whispered..

Harry closed his eyes and embraced her as she leaned against him. "Dumbledore said he would figure something out."

Parvati sighed. "Just don't leave me behind."

Later that night, Harry packed his trunk with everything he had except what he might need over the next couple of days, just in case--not knowing that in the girls' dorm, Parvati was doing the same, just in case.

* * *

Tonks was fuming as she paced back and forth in the bowels of the Ministry building. 'How could they print such lies about Harry?' She kept thinking. 'And to send Umbridge to investigate!?! That psycho?'

Her thoughts were interrupted and a door down the corridor opened. Tonks looked up to see a nondescript man and woman in gray, featureless robes step out. Byrd and Callahan. Unspeakables. Who knew their first names? But she had met them a few times before, including when they were sent to investigate Harry and Parvati's confrontation with Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. She knew what the Unspeakables thought of Umbridge, who was always trying to order them around to go after Fudge's enemies. And Tonks suddenly smiled.

She walked boldly up to them. "Byrd, Callahan. I'm Tonks in the Auror Service. We've met a few times. Can I have a word with you?"

Byrd, a small woman of indeterminate age glanced over at Callahan, an undistinguished looking man who appeared to be in his early 40s. Callahan glanced back. They then turned to look at Tonks. Then they turned back and entered the door they had just exited. Callahan held the door open and Tonks, after glancing up and down the corridor, stepped into an office with empty two desks, four chairs, six filing cabinets, and no other sign that anyone actually used the office in question.

Tonks plopped down into the chair in front of the desk that Byrd sat behind. Callahan motioned his desk chair over and sat next to Callahan.

Tonks took a deep breath. "You read the Prophet this morning?"

Callahan glanced at Byrd, who glanced back. They gave a small tilt of their heads to indicate they had.

Tonks frowned. "You've met Harry Potter?"

Byrd glanced at Callahan, who glanced back, and they again tilted their heads.

Tonks took a deep breath. "Look, I know Harry. I stayed with his guardians and him over the holidays. He's a shy, sweet young boy. He's got a girlfriend that he adores, but doesn't know much about girls or sex. Now, he's being falsely accused of being a monster, and the Ministry is getting involved. And their sending that maniac, Dolores Umbridge, after him."

Callahan glanced at Byrd, who glanced back. They turned back and gave barely noticeable frowns.

Tonks looked at the two unspeakables with pleading eyes. "Look, you've met him. He's not a monster, a predator."

Byrd glanced at Callahan, who glanced back. They turned and gave a vague sign of agreement.

Tonks frowned, upset. "We can't let that woman, that psycho, Fudge's wannabe mistress, get near Harry. You know what she'll try to do."

Callahan glanced at Byrd, who glanced back. They turned to Tonks and gave another sign that they agreed.

Tonks took a deep breath. "Here's my idea ... "

Twenty minutes later, she finished. "Well, what do you think?"

She was met by a very strange sight. Byrd glanced at Callahan, who glanced back. Then the two turned to Tonks ... and grinned.

Tonks let out a yelp of glee and jumped out of her chair. As she dashed out the door, she stopped and poked her head back into the office. "Nice talking with you."

* * *

Dolores Umbridge was not happy. For some foolish reason, all the floo connections between the Ministry building and Hogsmeade were closed down. She knew what that was all about. Damn shopkeepers didn't allow noncustomers to use their floos. And, of course, the small Auror substation had to choose today for cleaning and maintenance. Well Cornelius would hear of this.

So Dolores spent countless hours on the Hogwarts Express, going over the file on the Harry Potter and Susan Bones incident, which consisted solely of the Monday edition of The Daily Prophet. And the more times she read it, the angrier she got.

She only thanked her lucky stars that Byrd and Callahan, those two drab bodyguards the Ministry had assigned, had been polite, agreeing to take her cloak and hanging it up. They even had the good sense to make themselves scarce, probably patrolling the train to make sure none of Dumbledore's spies were there to kidnap her and do unspeakable things to her.

So Umbridge was in a right fury, particularly at that Potter pervert, when the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station. She would show him what decent people did to disgusting degenerates if she had to do it right then and there. 'And that's just what I'll do!' she thought as she was helped off the carriage and strode up the steps to the entrance to Hogwarts Castle.

* * *

Moody stared with his one good eye and his magical eye as Harry entered his dungeon office. Suddenly, the old Auror began to chuckle. "Potter, I planned to keep you protected from that old bat, but it looks like you got the situation in hand."

Harry was nervous to the point of panic. The Ministry official in change of the Daily Prophet allegations would be coming in on the Hogwarts Express in less than an hour. Moody had told Harry to meet him in his office so they could go over some last minute preparations and protective measures for the interview.

So here Harry was, dressed, for the first time, in the dragonhide boots, trousers and vest that Sirius had given him for Christmas

Moody rose and walked around Harry, giving an appraising look. "Good, Potter. Hungarian Horntail. Tougher and more spell resistant than just about any other." Moody reached down and pinched the dragonhide at Harry's hip. "Good. A little give. Not real tight like those fops who wear it just for the ladies."

Harry squirmed under Moody's scrutiny.

Then Moody returned to his seat and opened his trunk. "Take off the boots and trousers," he said without a glance as he reached into the trunk.

Harry stared. "But Professor, what if she ..."

Moody grunted. "Probably won't be needin' this, but a little extra protection never hurt."

Harry stared as Moody withdrew a thick, triangular piece of dragonhide with straps. "What is that?" he asked.

Moody glanced up. "It's a codpiece. Considerin' what that fat prig was sayin', can't be too careful, young Potter."

Once Harry was down to his boxers, Moody had Harry step into the straps and pulled the dragonhide pouch over Harry's privates. "Now get into your trousers and boots and lets be goin'," Moody said with a hard look.

Harry complied. Buckling his trousers was a little more difficult with the protection underneath, but he managed. He then threw his robe on casually and the two began to walk down the dungeon corridor.

As it was nearly dinnertime when they reached the convergence point between Slytherin House and Hupplepuff House, Harry and Moody ran into a large group of students heading toward the Great Hall. Many stopped and stared as Harry, preoccupied with the upcoming meeting with Umbridge, strode by. And many, especially the girls, couldn't help but admire the black dragonhide trousers that let off shimmers of iridescent green in the torch light.

Moody, who was beside Harry, began chuckling again. "Potter," he said with an uncharacteristic and quite evil grin. "Best close your robe, else you be advertisin' more than you can deliver."

Harry slowed momentarily and looked at Moody. Then he looked down, afraid he'd come unfastened. Then he realized that the codpiece under his clothes had made his trousers tighter than normal and had created a noticeable bulge. Harry blushed furiously and swept his robe around him to the wide-eyed stares and giggling from the girls of two houses.

"Best not let the Prophet get a photo of that," Moody said, now cackling. "You'll be getting' even more owls than you do now."

* * *

Moody sighed. "Don't worry, lad. She won't suspect a thing, unless she tries something rash," Moody said as he put the finishing touches on the spell.

Harry fidgeted. On top of his dragonhide clothing, he had applied his own series of shielding spells. They were interlocking and complex. Then Moody had applied a separate set of shields of his own. Finally, Dumbledore set up a portable bubble shield that would absorb virtually any spell short of the killing curse. So at least his manhood would be protected, if not his life.

Finally, the signal came that Umbridge had arrived in the castle. Harry took a deep breath and glanced over first at McGonagall, then at Moody, then at the Headmaster, who gave Harry a reassuring nod. "Enter," Dumbledore called.

Dolores Umbridge entered, a furious look on her face. "Dolores Umbridge, Assistant Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic," she announced. "I'm here to investigate ... " Then she gasped, her face going purple with rage. "There you are, you filthy little degenerate. You have the nerve to show your face to respectable people ... "

Suddenly, her fury seemed to peak. "I'll show you what we do to your kind!!!" she screamed and reached for her wand.

And just as she grabbed it, she disappeared.

* * *

"Castrat ... " But her incantation was cut off as she felt the familiar hook behind her navel. And then it stopped.

Suddenly it was stifling hot. And she found herself in what seemed to be a small yellow and red canvas tent. Despite the sweat that was beginning to form under her pink fuzzy sweater, her Ministry robes and her heavy winter cloak, she felt a chill run down her spine. 'What had that pervert Dumbledore done to her?'

She began clawing the canvas until she found and opening and dashed out of the tiny tent only to have her eyes assaulted by bright sunlight. She could barely see, but she heard what sounded like the ocean's roar.

"Oi, Sheila! A mite overdressed, aren't we," came a man's amused voice.

As her eyes adjusted to the bright sunshine, she began to focus on the man who had called out to her. He was standing about ten feet away. He was a nice looking man who looked to be in his early 40s, very fit, with sandy blonde hair, and broad mustache over a pleasant toothy grin.

And he was naked!

Dolores screamed and turned away, only to see dozens, no hundreds of naked and near naked people on a beautiful sandy beach. Umbridge threw her hands over her eyes. "Where am I?" she screamed.

The naked man chuckled again. "Samauri Beach. What, you take a wrong turn from the National Park?"

"Samauri? I'm ... I'm in ... Japan?" she squeaked hysterically, still covering her eyes.

"Uhhh, no," said the naked man, now a little uncertainly. He turned back to a female companion. "Oi, Bonnie. I think we got someone pranked here again."

"Where ... where is Samauri Beach?" Umbridge stammered.

"Where are you from, dear," came a solicitous sounding female voice. "Sydney or Melbourne?"

Umbridge took her hands from her eyes only to see a naked middle-aged woman in front of her. She gasped. "I'm in Australia?"

The naked woman gave her a puzzled nod.

Umbridge looked around in horror. There still were naked and half-naked people everywhere. She panicked and dashed around the canvas tent, apparently a portable changing room, to get out of view. 'Australia?' She thought in a panic. 'Well, there is a small Wizarding colony in Sydney and a slightly larger one near Melbourne,' she thought, desperately trying to keep her composure. Umbridge knew she wasn't the best at apparating, but she had to try to get away from these scarlet women and libertine men who showed their naughty bits to the world.

She grabbed her wand and closed her eyes in concentration, then cried: "Sydney!"

She blinked. Nothing happened. Then she looked down. She was naked. And her wand was gone. They had apparated without her. She let out a blood-curdling scream.

At her scream, several concerned naked men and women came running. Umbridge looked up in terror as the first naked man she saw ran up to her. Just as she began to pass out in his arms, she thought she heard a click.

Her last conscious thought was the sight of a beautiful young naked woman with bronzed skin and curly, bubblegum pink hair holding a camera. "Gotcha," the young woman said with a smile.

* * *

"What just happened?" Harry said, panting heavily from the shock of Umbridge's aborted attack and her sudden disappearance.

Dumbledore just sat there, his mouth open in amazement.

McGonagall's mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, but no sound came out.

Moody, his wand out to defend Harry, had his magical eye spinning rapidly until it lit upon Byrd and Callahan. "Somebody turn her wand into a portkey?" he asked gruffly in amazement.

Byrd simply glanced at Callahan, who glanced back at Byrd. The two shrugged and casually left the Headmaster's office, leaving four startled people behind.

* * *

The young man stepped gingerly onto the path to Hogwarts. He gazed sadly at the magnificent castle ahead, his long blond hair being blown to the side by the biting February wind. He cinched the collar of his fleece-lined, sheepskin robe, the symbol of his clan. But he would not put up his hood against the cold. Let the cold wind on his face remind him, punish him for what he did here. Let it sting him as a reminder of his cowardice. Let it drive home the fact that he had broken the heart of the one woman he had ever loved to remain obedient to the clan.

The coward, Hezekiah Brown, commenced the long cold walk from Hogsmeade to The Castle.

* * *

Professor McGonagall frowned and gave the visitor an annoyed look. "See here, Mr. Brown," she snapped. "Normally, we only allow parents to visit students under such circumstances."

Hezekiah 'Ki' Brown was used to hearing unpleasant things without visible emotion. After all, he was the public face of the generally secretive Brown clan. As such, he had learned to play his cards close to the vest. He had also learned to be sensitive to others, a sensitivity that came a great cost. But he also understood that his old Transfiguration professor would not deny him the interview he sought. He waited patiently until McGonagall huffed. "Hasn't she been through enough?"

Ki Brown nodded and followed meekly behind McGonagall to her office. "Go," she said abruptly. She's in my inner office.

Ki nodded and proceeded inside the waiting area, then into the inner office.

"YOU!!!" came the screech of the blond Gryffindor girl with the red, puffy eyes. "I should have known they would send someone! But you?"

Ki sighed. "Lavender, please. I just want to hear your side of the story."

"My side of the story? You're going to question me about sex? That's a good one!" she spat. "I heard all about you from my roommate. You're a fine one to make any kind of judgments on sex!"

Ki simply closed his eyes and nodded. "I just want to make sure of the facts before we take action," he said softly with a hint of resignation in his voice.

Lavender glowered. "Oh, and what action is that? You going to make my life even more miserable than it is? You going to go after Harry and Parvati and Susan and the rest over all the lies they printed? What more can you possibly do to us?"

Ki sighed and lowered his head. "Is any of what was printed true?"

Lavender narrowed her eyes in fury. "Not one God-damned word! Not that anyone would believe any of us. Not after the high and mighty Daily Prophet spewed their crap all over the place! I wondered over the summer what was going on with Harry with all that garbage that kept appearing in the Prophet about him! That wasn't the Harry I knew! And now I know how he felt! So you can go back to your Clan Council and tell them I said it is a pack of lies! And if they don't like it, they can kiss my arse!"

Ki nodded. He lowered his head. "I'm sorry. It's just that the photo that appeared on the cover of the Prophet on Monday ... I've got to ask this." He paused and took a deep breath. "You're not ... sleeping around?"

Lavender shrieked in absolute fury. "You're God-damned right I'm not! Not that it's any of your business ... or any of your stinking Council's! You want proof? We can go down to the Hospital Wing and Madame Pomfrey can run a test. Or do you just plan on checking me yourself!?!"

Ki shook his head. "I'm very, very sorry, Lavender. These were things I had to ask before we take action," he said in a small, almost ashamed voice.

Lavender bristled. "What action? Are you going to take me out of Hogwarts?" she cried, suddenly bursting into tears. "All because of a bunch of lies printed in that rag by people who are just trying to smear my friends ... and me?"

Ki looked up, puzzled at first. Then his face cleared in recognition. "No, Lavender. We are going to restore your honor, and that of your friends."

Now it was Lavender's turn to be puzzled. "What ... ?"

Ki sighed again. "The Clan is meeting tonight in a War Council with some of our friends. We had to know what actions we should pursue. It may cost us, but no one does this to a Brown!"

* * *

Sirius and Lakshmi were at the bar at the Three Broomsticks. It should have been a celebratory lunch. After all, Sirius, in just his first full month on the job, had uncovered the probable source of nearly a third of the company's losses over the past three years. Thanks to a quick Auror investigation, it was discovered that Sebastian Sweet's Gringott's account had enjoyed progressively larger unexplained deposits over the course of 32 months in the amount of 10,200 Galleons. These deposits coincided with unexplained losses of inventory in the Patil Warehouses of some 22,000 Galleons.

But this was no celebration. Sirius was furious to the point of violence over what he read in The Daily Prophet. And he was more furious when he received an owl from Harry explaining how it was all lies and asking how he could escape from Hogwarts and go underground as Sirius had if the Ministry actually sent someone to take his manhood.

So Sirius and Lakshmi were in the Three Broomsticks, trying to find out what had happened that fateful night, and waiting for the okay to come and visit Harry and Parvati. They had already found out from Shane that, according to the Auror grapevine, Harry and Parvati had been stalked by a small witch or wizard last Saturday night and that Parvati had been attacked with a Fluvius spell and Harry had reacted as expected. The stalker had disappeared before the Aurors on duty could react. Needless to say, Dumbledore and Chief Auror William Masterson were furious that the Aurors on duty would ignore someone posing as a Hogwarts student simply loitering outside the Three Broomsticks on a Hogsmeade weekend, obviously in wait for someone, and not be suspicious.

And then, to top it all off, two Aurors less than 50 feet away from the incident failed to react when the stalker hit Parvati with the hex. What if that had been a Death Eater waiting to kill Harry? Sirius shivered at the thought. Shane had gone on to say that Werner Shaw and Lila Carpenter, the two regular Aurors that were closest to the scene had been reprimanded and reassigned.

So it was an angry Sirius Black and Lakshmi Patil who were standing at the bar, chatting with Madame Rosmerta about the incident, when the door opened and a blond man in a sheepskin robe entered. Lakshmi looked up and froze. Sirius wheeled around, his wand out.

The blond man looked up. "Hello Shi-Shi," he said in a quiet, nervous voice.

Lakshmi's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here? Playing bagman for your clan?" she hissed.

Ki Brown closed his eyes and sighed mournfully. "I'm sorry Shi-Shi. Hogwarts business. I'm just passing through." He glanced over to Madame Rosmerta. "Madame? May I?"

Madame Rosmerta nodded and tilted her head toward the back room of the bar.

Ki nodded his thanks and glanced back at Lakshmi before walking to the private floo connection in the back room that very few were allowed to use.

Lakshmi barely gave a glance at Sirius as she finished her tea in a single gulp and buttoned her cloak. "I'm tired of waiting for McGonagall. I'm going to the Castle, permission or not."

Sirius could only stumble along in her wake.

* * *

Sirius never thought of himself as the most sensitive person in the world. But as he walked behind a determined Lakshmi down the two-mile trek to Hogwarts, he understood what had just happened.

Sirius had heard snippets from the various Patils and from Harry all about the great love affair Lakshmi had at Hogwarts. He understood that they had slept together and planned to be married. And he also knew that, just before graduation, all those plans were dashed and the boy simply walked away from the relationship because of family pressures.

Sirius had assumed the boy was some pure-blood princeling. He never suspected it was Ki Brown.

In the years since his escape from Azkaban, he had read the Wizarding press when he could find a newspaper. And if you read the Wizarding press, it was hard not to hear about Ki Brown. The Brown clan was often thought of a secretive and mysterious. But there was nothing sinister about them. They the richest clan in England and had been for generations. This made them easy targets. So generations ago, they made a decision to keep a low profile. They were not ostentatious, they didn't throw fancy balls, nor did they attend them. They had sixteen seats on the Wizangamut, but never attempted to wield their power or influence publicly. While the Brown children did have something of a rowdy reputation when they attended Hogwarts, once they graduated, they tended to go back to the clan lands and work quietly and unobtrusively. The only time they seemed to come into the public eye was when one of their own got into trouble. And then they closed ranks around that clan member.

And they had one other quirk. They favored arranged marriages.

This practice was one of longstanding. It had been the traditional way that the Brown clan acquired property, forged family alliances, and ended clan quarrels and feuds.

Sirius had heard about Ki Brown through the scandal. It was still the stuff of legend that Ki Brown was to be married to an O'Neal, from the largest land-owning family in Ireland. The engagement was announced. But the engagement seemed to drag on for two years before it was suddenly called off. There was bad blood between the Browns and O'Neals for a couple years before another Brown stepped in and married the poor girl.

From the day the engagement was broken, Ki Brown was reportedly looked on with disfavor by the clan. But he was also looked on as a romantic figure in the Wizarding world.

Then, four years ago, he began appearing as the public spokeswizard of the Brown Clan whenever they felt it necessary to put on a public face. And he was a natural.

Ki Brown was good looking. He was charming. He was well-spoken. But more than that, he was smart. Very smart. And he knew how to play his cards close to the vest. This made him the ideal person to represent a clan with an otherwise shadowy reputation to the public.

And now Sirius made the final connection. Lakshmi had been in love with the 'perfect' boy. They planned to marry after Hogwarts. Then he broke it off because of family pressure. Who else could it be than Ki Brown?

Sirius shivered, and not just from the cold February wind.

He knew he had come to care for Lakshmi deeply. He kept telling himself that this was just a fun relationship. But he realized that his feelings for Lakshmi were more than just casual. And now, Ki Brown had crossed her path once again. What if she suddenly felt a rekindling of her feelings for Brown? What would Sirius do if she suddenly disappeared from his life? And how was he treating her now? They were just beginning to get serious in their relationship. How could he contemplate playing with her feelings after what she must have gone through with Brown?

Sirius realized that Remus was right. That Harry was right. That Tony Strowbridge was right. Lakshmi Patil wasn't perfect. But she was the most wonderful thing that had happened to him, with the possible exception of Harry, in a decade and a half. Maybe it was time to take the next step. Maybe it was time ...

* * *

It was two days later that Ki Brown followed a liveried House Elf into the private office of Masterman Winkler, the owner of The Daily Prophet.

"Ki," the man said jovially as he rose from behind his massive desk to shake his visitor's hand. "Tea? Ale? Firewhiskey?"

Ki Brown simply shook his head.

"What can I do for you?" the small, portly wizard asked the representative of his biggest advertiser.

Ki frowned and withdrew a portfolio from his sheepskin robe. "It seems that your newspaper printed some inaccurate information in a recent issue. Information that we take offense at."

Winkler frowned. "And what was that?"

"You printed a risqué picture of one of ours on the cover of the February 21^st edition, one that was taken surreptitiously by a student in her dorm."

Winkler frowned again. "Well, mistakes can be made. I'm sure a correction can be printed in some future issue."

Ki sighed. "It also printed a series of lies, fabricated photos, and defamatory materials about a large number of our friends, including one Harry Potter, a student named Miss Parvati Patil, and the niece of the Minister of Law Enforcement, a Miss Susan Bones, as well as her friends."

Winkler frowned. "Well, now, as I recall, that story was very well received and has sparked a Ministry investigation. It was investigative reporting at its finest."

Ki nodded. "We also have the Auror's report on how one of your reporters, one B.Z. Zorch, staged an assault on Miss Patil, then photographed Mr. Potter's reaction and published it with a false and defamatory caption and story."

Winkler was now squirming uncomfortably. "Well, I will consult with the publisher and make sure that the reporter is talked to about his journalistic responsibilities," he said nervously.

Ki sadly shook his head. "We want a full retraction of every false element in the story on the front page of the next issue. We want the publisher, editor in charge, and Mr. Zorch fired. And we want assurances that this sort of nonsense will never happen again," he said quietly

Winkler's temper flared. "Now see here, Hezekiah. You can't come in here and dictate to the press!"

Ki shook his head sadly.

Winkler's eyes narrowed. "You know, there was an old Muggle philosopher named Mark Twain who once warned: 'Never pick a fight with someone who buys ink by the barrel'."

Ki cleared his throat. "He was a humorist. And I am sure he also thought about the corollary to that: 'Never pick a fight with the people who pay for those barrels of ink'," he said mildly. "Very well," he said quietly. He reached in to his portfolio. "Here's notice that the Browns and all our satellite operations do hereby cancel all advertising with The Daily Prophet and all other publications owned or operated by Winkler Ltd.

Winkler sputtered. He never thought the Browns would take it that far. "You ... you can't do that!" He suddenly panicked. He could survive without the Brown's business--barely. But could he afford the ill-will?

Ki again reached into his portfolio and took out a sheaf of papers. "Oh, and here are notices from 72 other advertisers canceling their advertising programs." He gently placed the pile on Winkler's desk.

Winkler didn't want to look, but he did. The top letter was from Zabini's Restaurants. He lifted it. Under that was one from Richardson's Wizarding Apparel. Below that was a notice from the Young-Bradley Theater group. And Madame Malkins. Eyelops Owl Emporium. Gladrags. Florian Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlors. Ollivander's. Brimstoneware. Abbott Nurseries. Patil Imports. Jones Markets.

Masterman Winkler slowly raised his eyes to meet the emotionless face of Ki Brown.

Brown simply looked down into his portfolio and pulled out another file. "Oh, and also, we are calling in our notes on the Prophet, the Prophet Publications Building, and your home. But I'm sure you can get it all refinanced through Gringotts. Perhaps not at the rates you were getting from us, but that's business," he said in a flat tone.

Winkler simply lowered his head into his hands. "Trent Thompson already resigned as editor-in-chief over that story," he muttered. "Whatever you want ... " he mumbled, defeated.

* * *

Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. It was a Saturday, and he was still feeling oppressed by everything that had happened. Umbridge going missing had created an uproar at the Ministry, but nothing was heard from Fudge or his minions in two days.

He glanced around the Great Hall. Of course, for the fourth day running, Draco Malfoy was sitting there smugly, making scissor-like motions with his fingers. But Harry was pleased to see his friends at the other House tables continue to give him the thumbs-up or other reassuring gestures.

He sighed and took his seat next to a morose Parvati. Ron reached around to grab his shoulder once again, as he had every meal since the whole Prophet incident, to give Harry a very public reassurance.

Just as the first courses for breakfast were appearing, Harry heard the dreaded sounds of the morning owl deliveries. Never had he gotten such stacks of mail. He'd gotten several dozen howlers, which Dumbledore had ordered intercepted so as not to disrupt the student body. But what made Harry doubly anxious about the mail was the tone of some of the messages. He was shocked to find the mail running half against him but a surprising half in support. And the ones in support of him ... well, that had weirded him out. They were mostly from young women, saying they believed in him ... and, oh, by the way, was he interested in a date or an even less innocent rendezvous. Several had pictures, including a couple that were nearly pornographic. Seamus had been outraged that Harry had destroyed these rather than sharing them.

Seamus had even let slip his mother's outrage that there was now a Harry Potter Fan Club at St. Ursula's School for Young Witches in Ireland. Harry simply shook his head.

Harry sadly turned and looked across at the Hufflepuff table to see Susan Bones shaking in anxiety as the owls began their bombardment. Hannah Abbott looked up and met his glance with her own red-rimmed eyes. She shrugged and went back to holding Susan's hand.

Then, an owl swooped down and released something that seemed to flutter down and land in the sausage. Harry stared. It was the Prophet. But only four pages. The Daily Prophet usually ran anywhere from 24 to 32 pages.

Harry was puzzled until he started to hear students whooping and applauding, particularly from the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables. He glanced over at the headline.

A CORRECTION AND AN APOLOGY

The Daily Prophet wishes to announce that the material it printed in its Monday, February 21st edition was factually and contextually incorrect in its entirety. The story, alleging a sex scandal at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the product of a conspiracy among the former publisher and a reporter as part of what appears at this point to be an elaborate extortion plot. The former publisher, one Marcel Voleur, a/k/a Max Vole, who was discharged as the result of the story, has been arrested by Ministry of Magic personnel and currently is imprisoned in Azkaban Wizarding Prison pending an investigation not just for the current alleged extortion plot but the alleged embezzlement of some 15,000 Galleons from Keyhole Ltd., one of his former employers and publisher of Alohamora magazine. The reporter involved, B.Z. Zorch, has also been apprehended and is now being held pending charges of assault on a Hogwarts student which sparked the controversial, but falsely portrayed picture of Mr. Harry Potter in the Monday edition, as well as fraud and malicious misrepresentation.

The Daily Prophet has always believed in publishing the truth, without fear or favor, and the Monday edition of this newspaper is a blot on that reputation and tradition. We humbly apologize to all offended parties, particularly the young woman portrayed on the cover of that issue who, with several classmates both male and female, was in fact coming to the aid of a stricken classmate; Miss Susan Bones and her friends, who were inaccurately and maliciously mischaracterized; and Mr. Harry Potter, who was falsely portrayed in every instance, by that story.

We would also like to announce that Mr. Trent Thompson, our former editor who resigned rather that accept publication of the article cited, has been rehired as editor-in-chief and publisher of The Daily Prophet. We look forward to continuing our relationship with this publishing professional, as well as reestablishing our reputation for integrity and honesty with our readers and advertisers.

--Masterman Winkler

Owner, Winkler Ltd. and The Daily Prophet

* * *

It wasn't minutes later that a fresh set of owls, though fewer in number than the last group, came swooping in to the Great Hall. As they deposited their loads, there seemed to be a new spate of laughter and squealing.

Harry looked around and saw Colin Creevey looking bug-eyed at his newspaper. Harry joined several other Gryffindors who gathered around to see what the commotion was about. There, on the front page of the Morning Sunrise was a carefully cropped picture of a very pudgy, very naked Dolores Umbridge apparently swooning in the arms of an equally naked muscular man, surrounded by naked people on a sunny beach. The headline read: "MINISTRY SEX INVESTIGATOR CAUGHT IN ORGY."

* * *

"How would you like to get next to that," the young woman in the red corkscrew curly hair and nose ring said in a languid voice, as she tossed her copy of The Daily Prophet onto the coffee table.

The young Black woman opposite her on the beat-up couch gave her a sleepy look and took another pull off the bottle of firewhiskey. She opened her mouth and clicked her jaw, sending a perfect ring of smoke from the fiery brew floating between them. "Who? Potter?"

The first young woman gave a vague nod.

Various heads rose around the spacious but atrociously furnished loft in curiosity, or at least mild interest.

The second young woman looked pensive, slowly rocking her head back and forth to make the dangling bells on her earrings chime. "Yeah ... " she said quietly. "In a heartbeat."

Dex Murchison, dressed in torn jeans and a ragged, mustard-colored tee-shirt promoting the punk singer, Witch Hazel, snorted. "What you want with him, Nina?" he said with a lazy chuckle. "He's a Wart."

Nina Bloodthorne, a backup singer for Darren Dare and Dark Secrets, casually made a rude gesture at Dex, the band's keyboardist. "You saw him at their little Christmas Ball. He's hot."

Dex merely laughed. "Hoggy, Hoggy Hogwarts, with their Warty, Warty Hogs," he sang in moaning falsetto, mocking the Hogwarts' school song.

"They ain't all hogs," came a voice from behind a cloud of smoke from a long-stemmed clay pipe. Noel Coffey, the band's drummer leaned forward and gave Dex a cocked eyebrow. "I saw you leering at that blond babe in the front table. She wasn't no Hogwarts Hog," be said with a mirthful snort.

"Neither was Potter's woman," came another voice from the group of 20 or so band members, dates and hangers-on who regularly came to party and stayed to lounge that the band's Knockturn Alley loft.

Dex, Noel and a few others grunted in agreement. Finally, Dex sighed. "Still, she's a Wart, just like Potter," he said as if ruling on the matter.

Slowly, the young man slumped in a cracked leather armchair near the fire raised his head and peered at the group through long curly hair cascading over his forehead. "Don't think so."

Noel turned to look at his leader. "Don't think what, Dee?"

Darren Dare leaned forward and glanced around the room. "Don't think he's a Wart," he said in a mellow, drawling tone that belied his intense, growling vocal style.

Dex frowned. "He goes to Hogwarts. That makes him a Wart."

Dare nodded vaguely. "Warts take care of their own. But look what they tried to do to him. He saves them, and the Ministry goes after him. He saves their ass again. Fudge raises hell. He kills that Golem, and the Prophet does a crucio on him in print, probably with the Ministry's blessing. No, they're after him because they don't trust him to be a good little Wart."

"I hear it was the shopkeepers that did a job on the Prophet, not the purebloods ... that's why they did that turnaround," Nina said quietly, gesturing to the paper's prominent retraction of its Potter/Bones story.

Dare nodded. "If he was a real Wart, the Prophet and the Ministry'd be singing his praises. But they don't. They want him buried. He ain't no Wart."

Dex frowned and scratched his stomach. "He still got himself a Wart Princess."

Nina snorted. "A Wog Princess, you mean."

Dex smirked. "Yeah? She's almost as white as I am."

Dare gave his friend a lazy grin. "Maybe. But you have a better chance of marrying a Malfoy than she ever would," he said with a smirk.

Nina laughed. "Does that mean a wog like me has a chance with Potter, after all?" Nina said, flashing a broad grin on her dark complected face.

Dare looked out on the rest of his companions. "I think so. Know why? 'Cause I don't think he's a Wart at all. I think, underneath, he's one of us."