The Next Dance

THE NEXT DANCE

BY AERIE22

CHAPTER 22

VISIONS

* * *

Remus stood wide-eyed and Sirius watched in amazement as the cargo containers were offloaded from the Taisei Maru, a huge container ship. "All that ... stuff," Sirius said in wonder. "How much of it is ours?"

Shane Patil chuckled. "According to Shi-Shi, only 14 containers. We're small compared to the Muggle shippers. But they don't have the advantage of being able to Floo or Portkey much of their stock."

Sirius rubbed his chin and Remus shook his head in amazement. "Why don't we just use magic for all of it?"

Shane shrugged. "Look, much of what we bring in is bulk shipments. It's not all lacewings. We have 140 tons of floo powder coming in from Tunisia and 22 tons of Dragon hides from Romania. The Bourkes in South Africa have packaged 34 tons of assorted potions ingredients from the Wizarding plantations down there. And our agents in Singapore have another 25 tons of various ingredients from Asia. You can't just floo that kind of quantity. So we use Muggle shippers," he said with a smile. "Not all on this ship, of course. The big trick is to make sure that the containers are charmed so customs agents and the drug- and bomb-sniffing dogs believe that it's all tea and tobacco," he said, now grinning.

Jayanti Patil, Lakshmi's younger cousin, frowned thoughtfully, and paged through a clipboard full of manifests. "All here, I believe," he muttered. "Take a few hours for it to clear. What say we pick up lunch at one of the pubs?"

Shane shook his head with a smile. Jay Patil was trim like most of the rest of the Patils. 'Maybe he won't spread the way his father did,' Shane thought. 'But with his appetite ...'

Jay led them to a small pub just off the main quay and began to enter when Sirius saw the sign and blanched. "What the hell? I'm not going into any place named 'Spotted Dick'," he exclaimed.

Shane and Jay burst into laughter, although Remus looked skeptical. "Come on, now," Jay exclaimed through his laughter. "Spotted Dick was just the name given to an old-fashioned dessert they used to serve to the crews in the British Navy during the Napoleonic wars. Just a suet and raisin pudding." Jay got a gleam in his eye. "Would you prefer 'Boiled Baby'?"

"Don't ask," Shane said with a chuckle. Sirius and Remus gave Jay a queasy look, but Shane simply grabbed both and led them down the stone steps and into a surprisingly neat and clean pub. The clientele was also not what Sirius expected. These weren't the sweaty stevedores he'd seen on the docks, but an assembly of mostly middle-aged men in jackets, many with ties.

As Jay and Shane scouted out a table, Sirius surveyed the room. Then, his eyes locked on to a burly man in an-open-necked, madras plaid shirt and his silver-haired companion, who was wearing a elegant, cream-colored button-down shirt and a blazer. The burly man then smiled. "Sirius Black? I heard you got a job here on the docks."

Sirius paused, startled, as the man stood and walked over to shake his hand. "Pat Downey," the man said, holding out his hand. Sirius shook it uncertainly. Downey gestured with his head to the elegant man at the table. "This here is John Nichol. We're with Gulf & Pacific Shipping. I understand that we may have a mutual friend."

Sirius continued to stare. "Pleased to meet you."

Downey then turned. "Young Jay Patil, I believe. And one of the cousins, no doubt." Then he looked at Remus.

Remus gave a distant smile. "Remus Lupin. Just here to look over the warehouses. Security and that sort of thing," he mumbled uncertainly.

Jay and Shane had come up behind Sirius. Jay broke into a grin, but Shane seemed as nonplussed as Sirius. "Mr. Downey," Jay said warmly. "Nice to meet you again. And Mr. Nichol." Jay then turned back to Sirius and Remus. 'Muggles,' he mouthed in silent warning without letting his smile slip.

Pat smiled and shook his head as Jay turned back to Downey and Nichol. "Such manners. And from a dock rat no less," he said with a chuckle. "Come join us. It's just the two of us."

Jay nodded as Sirius, Remus, and Shane exchanged uncertain glances. But they sat down nonetheless.

Downey and Nichol smiled and exchanged pleasantries before Downey leaned forward to Sirius. "I believe you know Reverend Anthony Strowbridge?"

Sirius blinked. "Uh, yes," he said in a puzzled voice.

Downey chuckled. "We all live in Little Whinging, in Surrey."

Sirius was nonplussed. "Then ... you must know my Godson, Harry Potter."

Now it was Downey's and Nichol's turn to be surprised. Then they turned and looked at each other. "That explains the Dursleys," Downey muttered.

Sirius and Remus frowned. "What about those ... people," Sirius growled.

Downey and Nichol frowned. "They spread it around that young Harry was a bad influence, or a delinquent," Downey said with a sigh. "Maybe they assumed that ... well ... your relationship with him ... " Downey paused, his gruff countenance taking on an uncharacteristic hint of embarrassment. "Well, maybe they assumed his father, being close to what we all assumed to be a known mass murderer, meant that Harry would follow the same path ... Little did they know ... you were innocent."

Sirius was now angry. "Bull! The Dursleys had met James Potter and knew he was a decent man. Lily Evans--Harry's mother--would never associate with someone less than a good man. They were the bad seeds, not Harry!"

Downey nodded and lowered his head. "I'm sorry. We all should have known something was wrong. I lived less than a block away and knew the Dursley's had a ward, but didn't even know what he looked like. Just saw a small boy occasionally doing work around their house."

Sirius lowered his head into his hands. "I should have been there for him ... "

Nichol entered the conversation for the first time. "Never understood how this other chap--Pettigrew, was it--could set off a bomb and get away like that."

Remus frowned. "There's a lot of things that never appeared in the newspapers. How he cut off a finger to leave evidence that he'd 'died.' What better way to escape scrutiny ... justice, than if everyone thinks you're dead."

Downey and Nichol nodded as they sipped their drinks.

Nichol cocked an eyebrow as the tensions at the table began to ebb. "And you, Mr. Lupin? Are you with Patil Imports?"

Remus shrugged. "Just a consultant on per diem."

Jay immediately interjected to limit enquiries into dangerous territory. "What are you two doing down here? I thought you just showed up during labor strife or to watch the Titanic dock."

The two old men chuckled. "Nothing so mundane," Nichol replied with a smile. "Just dealing with some government folks I happen to know. Something about replacing our Halon system with something more environmentally friendly."

The four wizards attempted to keep neutral expressions until Shane finally stepped in. "What's a Halon system?"

Downey grunted. "Keeps the computer systems safe from fire. It detects a fire and whoosh! The whole room is blanketed in Halon gas. Kills the fire instantly. Got a false alarm a few years ago and the IT people got out just in time before the doors sealed. Got no idea how many government forms we had to fill out over the discharge--afraid of harming the ozone layer and all that. But it was a hell of a show," he said with a grin. "What do you all use for fire protection for your file servers?"

Sirius and Remus passed panicked looks at each other, not knowing what Downey was talking about. Then Jay leaned forward. "Just the standard systems. And we have backups in two separate locations."

Nichol leaned back and nodded. "Well, if you learn of a good replacement for Halon, you let us know, if you would."

* * *

Remus led the wizarding group back to the warehouses, thinking hard. Sirius simply ambled along at his side. "What the hell were they talking about? What the hell is Halon? And I still don't know what Spotted Dick is?"

Jay laughed. "I knew you wouldn't have the guts to order it!"

The group entered Patil Imports Warehouse No. 1, where the most expensive stores were kept. Remus wandered over to the office where he left his notes. He pondered them carefully. Finally, he looked up at Jay and Shane Patil. "Okay, look. You have an antiquated system of security spells here. You know that as well as I do. Otherwise, you wouldn't have taken Sirius's advice and brought me in. So here is a list of new spells and charms."

The Remus paused in thought as the two Patil cousins pondered the list. "You can do all these?" Jay asked.

Remus nodded absently. "Take me two days, three tops, for each warehouse."

Jay nodded. "Okay. That's 25 Galleons for the consult, another 25 a day for the spells. Sound good?"

Remus again nodded absently, but Sirius stepped in. "Look, some of these spells and charms are really obscure and complicated. I think we can do a little better than 25 a day."

Jay shrugged. "I think we can negotiate something. I'll have to ask Shi-Shi and my dad and uncle, but we'll see what we can do."

At that point, Remus wandered over to the far corner of the warehouse. He stood there, pondering the blank wall.

Sirius and Jay looked at him with curious expressions while Shane wandered off to look at some of the dragon hides that were destined to be used as battle armor. "What?" Sirius asked.

Jay frowned. "You have an idea about the vault?"

Remus continued to stare at the wall, then looked around at the nearby shelves and stonework. "You know, your friends gave me an idea," he said softly.

Sirius and Jay, now joined by Shane, wandered over to wait. Finally Sirius sighed. "You want to use some Muggle gas or powder to protect the vault?"

Remus slowly shook his head. Finally, he turned around. "You store all your most valuable potion ingredients and other stores in the vault, right?"

Jay shrugged. "Sure. Ancient and one-of-a-kind artifacts. Gemstones. Jewelry. Small, high-end items like rare wands. Stuff that you can put in your pocket and get rich from."

Remus nodded and returned to staring at the wall.

Jay snorted. "Shi-Shi did an inventory on the contents a couple years ago. You wouldn't believe what she found. Stuff that had been there for over 200 years. She found my great-great-great grandmother's jewelry box. She even found a few crates full of wands from about 60 years ago. You wouldn't believe the mess."

Remus nodded, only half paying attention. "And the entrance is under an obscuring charm, and six interlocking security charms?"

Jay nodded. "Yeah?"

Remus walked over and ran his hands around the stonework surrounding the area. "It might work ..."

Sirius frowned. "What?"

Remus paused and turned back to the group. "A powdered version of the Omni Sensu Carens potion."

Sirius blanched. "The knock-out potion?"

Remus nodded. "How often do you go in there?"

Jay, a puzzled look on his face, shrugged. "Maybe once or twice a month, if that."

Remus nodded thoughtfully again. "Look, you put up bulbs of the powder in obscure places around the entrance to the vault. You set it up with a password. Say you start the series of spells to unlock the vault. You add a spell as part of the series, maybe the second or third command, that deactivates the bulbs. So once you start the series of unlocking spells, you have to use the knock-out potion spell as, say, the third in the sequence. If you don't, the fourth spell command activates the bulbs. They shoot out the powder and it knocks out everyone in the area and sets off the alarms. The Aurors show up and find your burglars knocked out and your inventory is safe. Simple as that. And cleaner than this ... Halon those Muggles were talking about. The knock-out potion in powdered form should last up to eight hours but, except for a slight hangover, everyone wakes up fit and healthy."

Shane's eyes widened. "That's brilliant! And you can use that in reverse as a general security protection."

Remus, Jay and Sirius turned to give Shane a puzzled look.

Shane blinked. "It's simple. You install the bulb system in a home or office. Have a set keyword when attacked, some word you would never use in everyday life. Then, if you're attacked, simply yell out the keyword, and you and the attackers are all instantly knocked out and the Aurors are alerted! You're safe and your attackers are caught before they can do anything! Brilliant!"

Remus nodded. "We'll have to test it out, but it could work."

"Let's get on it!" Shane exclaimed.

Jay nodded enthusiastically. Then he paused. "We'll have to get the okay from Shi-Shi and my dad and uncle."

Sirius could only roll his eyes. Jay was bright and enthusiastic, but he was also young and never made a decision on his own. "We'll do it."

* * *

Lakshmi slowly nodded her head. "So this will cost all of about 300 Galleons?"

Sirius leaned back in his chair in her small office, which was next to his. "Yeah, 300 for Remus's consult and charms, plus the costs of the materials and ingredients. Small price to pay," he replied in a tentative voice.

She nodded and scribbled her notes on the parchment. She gave Sirius a surreptitious glance. "Is that all?"

Sirius frowned and took a deep breath. "No," he said more firmly than he felt.

Lakshmi gave him another glance then quickly looked back at the file. "What else?"

Sirius reached over to grab her wrist. "What's going on with you?" he asked in a voice perhaps a little louder than he meant to use.

Lakshmi jerked and gave him a suspicious look. "What are you talking about?"

Sirius stared at her. "You've been distant for the past couple weeks. Since the Three Broomsticks and checking on Harry and Parvati. This is about him, isn't it? You're still carrying a torch for Ki Brown."

Lakshmi flinched at the name, and then narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare use him as an excuse! He did enough damage to my life without you suddenly using him as an excuse!" she said harshly.

"An excuse for what!" he exclaimed.

"For ending our relationship!" she shouted.

"WHAT!!!"

Lakshmi narrowed her eyes even more. "Oh, you've proved your worth around here! You showed how you know what you're doing! You caught Sebastian Sweet robbing us blind and got most of our losses back for them. You've got Jay and my father and uncle wrapped around your finger now. You don't need me anymore!"

Sirius stared at his girlfriend in shock. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Lakshmi returned his stare, but only with some effort. "You've been distant and walking on eggshells around me for the past couple weeks. You want to break up with me ... just like he did." A tear slowly escaped from the corner of her left eye and she looked away.

Sirius let out a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. "You couldn't be farther from the truth," he said in a weary voice.

Lakshmi chanced a glance at the pained expression on his face. "What is the truth?" she asked in a flat voice.

Sirius sighed. Slowly, he started in a quiet voice. "Every since that day in Hogsmeade when you saw him, you've been walking around in a snit. Like you suddenly realized you were saddled with a moody, aging adolescent when you could have someone like Ki Brown. I figured you were finally coming to your senses and were getting ready to give me the sack."

Lakshmi's head jerked up as she stared at him. "I don't understand."

Sirius snorted. "I was waiting for you to end it."

Lakshmi frowned. "I ... you're crazy. Ki Brown was a spineless worm. He makes my cousin Jay look like a tower of strength. He's slick, sure. But then most things that are covered with slime are slick."

Sirius slowly opened his eyes and peered at her. "So what was that Ice Queen act all about?"

Lakshmi gave him a sidelong glance. "I still don't know what you're talking about."

Sirius suddenly sat up and grabbed her by the wrist again. "What are you, some 15-year-old coquette? Well I'm 36 years old, 37 in another month! I've lost too many years and too many chances. I don't have the time or inclination to play girl-boy games with you! I care about you. Except for Harry ... you're the best thing that's happened to me, since I got out of Azkaban. And probably the only woman I've ever ... uh ... really cared about. So let me ask you again, what's been going on with you?"

Lakshmi looked up at him, this time the tears flowing freely. "I thought ... I thought you were going to leave me. I thought you were just using me, that I was just another girl on your list of conquests. I don't know." She slowly lowered her head, weeping quietly.

Sirius slowly moved his hand from her wrist to her hand. "No. I care about you. I was afraid I was losing you ... It made me do some thinking ... about us." He sighed as she looked up at him. He looked down and took a deep breath. "I never thought of myself as good at much besides causing people heartache. I don't know if I'll ever be ... I don't know ... the best man to be close to. But I was thinking ... maybe you and I ... I don't know. Maybe we could take the next step in our relationship." He glanced up uncertainly.

Lakshmi blinked in surprise, dropping another couple of unshed tears on to her cheeks. "You mean ... ?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. We've known each other four months. It's not a lot of time. There's still a lot we don't know about each other, that you don't know about me. But I guess I was thinking of maybe taking a chance ... "

Lakshmi's eyes were now wide. "On what?" she whispered.

Sirius lowered his head nervously. "Well, about talking about...well..."

Lakshmi leaned forward. "Talking about what, Sirius?" she asked softly.

"Marriage," he said in a hoarse voice.

"Yes," she whispered.

* * *

Harry, his face dripping with sweat, turned and nodded. Mike Gillespie returned the nod. Then they started.

The first few flights they paced each other, their footsteps echoing through the grand stairwells. Then Gillespie began to falter.

"Keep up," Harry growled through clenched teeth.

Gillespie didn't acknowledge, but seemed to regain the pace.

"Step!" Harry called out and the two runners leaped in tandem over the missing step on the fourth floor stairwell.

There was a vibration on the stairs. "Right!" Gillespie called out.

"No, left!" Harry retorted.

The two veered left and slowed perceptibly, arriving at the fifth floor landing just as the stairwell on the left finished shifting into place. The two runners, still in step after five flights, took the newly shifted stairway up another flight just as the shifting stairwell on the right thumped into place.

Two more flights and they reached the top. Gillespie collapsed in a heap while Harry squatted, then leaned back against the balustrade and splayed his legs out, heaving deep breaths.

Harry glanced over at his Hufflepuff seeker counterpart on the Quidditch pitch, fellow prefect, albeit from sixth year, and frequent dueling partner in the Defense Association. "You're getting there," he said between deep breaths.

* * *

Harry had given up on his daily early-morning runs around the Castle in November. Sunrise came late in Western Scotland in the late fall and winter. Running on the uneven and often treacherous ground around the castle was bad enough while it was light, but in the dark across icy and sometimes snow-covered land was down-right foolish.

Harry had contemplated finding somewhere within the castle to run, but Filch would not tolerate it even if there was a place where he could stretch his legs.

Then he thought of the stairwells. As long as he came out after 6:30 am and did not disrupt the other students or teachers, all the grumbling in the world from Filch couldn't prevent Harry from running them.

And Harry found the runs up the stairs gave him a muscle burn he rarely got from straight running. Of course, the runs down the staircases were a bit more perilous. And he always had to be alert to the missing stairs and the shifting staircases. But he was now used to them.

Then, three weeks ago, Mike Gillespie had been coming up from the Hufflepuff common room at about 7:00 am and saw Harry running the stairs. The Hufflepuff seeker was intrigued and promptly forgot about his decision to try to cadge an early breakfast in order to return to the common room to complete an Arithmancy assignment.

Harry found Gillespie leaning casually at the bottom of the stairs when he came down again. The Hufflepuff looked like there were a half dozen smart comments he wanted to make, but he simply smiled broadly, then burst out in laughter.

Harry had frowned, but he considered Gillespie a decent sort. "What?"

Gillespie now seemed genuinely intrigued. "My question, exactly. What? What is that all about?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Builds my endurance."

Gillespie cocked an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. "You've seen how people fade after a few minutes of dueling."

Gillespie nodded thoughtfully. "And you keep going from one to the next. I thought that was a function of magical power."

Harry shook his head. "It's physical endurance," he said, his breathing and heart rate now approaching normal. "I've got a couple firsties who could probably physically outlast most of us, even though they don't have the power or skills yet to be decent duelers."

Gillespie now was looking down, deep in thought. He glanced up. "You were raised by Muggles, right?"

Harry pursed his lips. This was common knowledge in the Gryffindor Tower, but he didn't know how far this knowledge had spread to the other houses. He shrugged. "I suppose," he said noncommittally.

Gillespie nodded. "Physical exercise is looked down on in the Wizarding World, you know. It's all supposed to come to us naturally, effortlessly. All part of the breeding," he said with a smirk. "Exercise is so ... unHogwarts," he said with a laugh.

Harry was about to get angry when he saw the mischief in Gillespie's eyes. "UnSlytherin, you mean," he replied with a cautious smile.

Gillespie leaned casually against the stairpost. "No, unHogwarts," he said with a more sober expression. "Exercise is associated with the lower classes. The ones who have to work more with their backs than their wands."

Harry stared, suddenly annoyed.

Gillespie cut him off. "Look, Harry. There are dozens, maybe hundreds of nonHogwarts people out there for every one of us. And a lot of Hogwarts people who want to keep that Hogwarts illusion of natural superiority alive."

Harry snorted. "I suppose that farmers who work for a living, like Wayne Hopkins, are looked down on, like some of the Muggleborns in Gryffindor are."

Gillespie frowned. "Wayne comes from a small Wizarding farm. They work hard to make a decent living. Just like Ernie Macmillan and dozens of others. And so do some from old landholding families, including some purebloods like Goyle and Bulstrode in Slytherin. They may considered by some to be the top strata of Wizarding society. But they have to work for a living. And work hard. But they have to keep up appearances that it all comes effortlessly, thanks to their breeding. That's why the notion of exercise is looked on as lower-class."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "And you agree?"

Gillespie burst out laughing. "If exercise will give me an edge in something important to me, I'll do it."

Harry smiled evilly. "Like in Quidditch?"

Gillespie's head jerked and stared. "Especially in Quidditch," he said with a grin.

* * *

That had been three weeks ago. Now, Harry was leaning against the seventh floor landing, regaining his breath. He glanced over at Gillespie. "You're getting pretty good," he said.

Gillespie was sprawled out on his back on the landing, breathing heavily, his hands interlaced behind his head. Finally, he glanced back, his face flushed. "You know, Ernie is interested in this stuff."

Harry shrugged. "Have him join us. He's a prefect. He shouldn't get too much of a hassle from Filch."

Gillespie closed his eyes. "He's a little uncertain how he'd be received."

Harry frowned and shrugged. "What's his problem?"

Gillespie hauled himself up in a sitting position with a sigh. He gave a half shrug. "What would you think of a Gryffindor who ran in the other direction the minute he faced any adversity? Who broke into tears if Malfoy insulted him?"

Harry snorted. "Wouldn't think much of him."

Gillespie nodded. "You would consider it a betrayal of House values."

Harry gave a general nod.

Gillespie returned the nod. "Well, that's about what Ernie did with Hannah. He betrayed her trust, showing he had no sense of loyalty or honor to his friends. He broke the Hufflepuff code."

Harry glanced over. "What, by fooling around? Like that never happened before, even in Hufflepuff," he said, a note of sarcasm evident in his voice.

Gillespie sighed again. "You don't get it. Ernie was Mr. Hufflepuff. He was the natural heir to Cedric Diggory. He was like Cedric's little brother. And he was dating Hannah Abbott, who is like Helga Hufflepuff personified. They had all the makings of the Golden Couple, not just of Hufflepuff, but probably of Hogwarts. Yet he didn't break up with her. Ernie betrayed her in the worst way possible. By sneaking around behind her back. And all for a quick shag with a stupid twit who had no concept of what the House code meant," he said with a frown. "And the worst part about it was that he didn't realize what was at stake until he lost it all. But now he realizes it. And he's ashamed."

Harry frowned in concentration. "So he's afraid to come out and exercise?"

Gillespie shrugged. "He only really talks to his best mate, Finch-Fletchley. Justin's a Muggle, so the code to him is just that, a code. Not a way of life. No Ernie feels like he's a leper around other people. He keeps coming to your DADA meetings because no one has asked him to leave. It's one of his few outlets, outside of Quidditch."

Harry nodded. "No chance he and Hannah will get back together?"

Gillespie shook his head. "None. She hasn't had an easy time, either. She could date just about any guy at Hogwarts, but she has lost trust. Going from Ernie, who betrayed her, to Roger Davies, who treated her like a trophy on his arm at the Yule Ball, to all the guys who leer at her ... well, it's not like she's anxious to get back into the mix any time soon."

Harry stared off into space. "Not with you?"

Gillespie gave a rueful laugh. "I've been dating Jenny Paulson for two years. I'm happy with what I have, thank you very much."

Harry shrugged again. "So, tell Ernie to show up tomorrow," Harry said casually. Then he turned to Gillespie with a grin. "But tell him he better keep up."

* * *

It had been months since the devastating duel in the Forbidden Forest with Potter and his bitch. Now, Voldemort was anxious. He had examined all the Dark Arts texts at his disposal during his enforced idleness, recovering from the horrible burns and debilitating infections from his confrontation with Harry and Parvati. But the key to immortality still remained illusive.

"Malfoy!" the Dark Lord commanded in his high-pitched voice.

Lucius appeared in moments, bowing deeply to his master.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "You had more in your library than this," he said in a low, ominous tone as he surveyed the stacks of books before him.

Lucius nodded. "Yes, my Lord. But these were the critical texts. We made sure when you first came back to us."

Voldemort frowned deeply, sending a chill up Lucius's spine. As Voldemort's eyes bored into the elder Malfoy, Lucius began to tremble.

Then a vague memory drifted through Lucius's mind. "There may be more there," he said in a detached voice. "I remember something about books ... scrolls ... and weapons ... of being chased by my father ... " he said, frowning in concentration.

Voldemort's attention was now even more focused on his chief lieutenant. "And where would these books and scrolls be?"

Lucius took a deep, wracking breath. "I barely remember. I was only an infant."

"Look at me, Lucius!" Voldemort commanded.

The elder Malfoy stared into the Dark Lord's blood-red eyes and was mesmerized. He felt his mind being probed.

"The books," Voldemort whispered. "Show me the books."

Lucius felt himself drifting, drifting, down a dank, dark corridor. He was in the deepest level of the dungeons in Malfoy Manor. He was hiding from his father, Augustus, who had caught him throwing knives at a squealing house elf. Lucius knew that if Augustus caught him, he would be in for a beating.

Young Lucius, all of seven years old, knew he would one day grow up big and strong and kill his father so he could be free to throw knives at house elves whenever he wanted and do whatever else he wanted. But for now, he would skulk around the dungeons and hide from the old man.

'I wish for a place to hide,' he muttered fearfully. Then he saw it. A shimmering in a blank wall near the end of the corridor. He heard his father bounding down the stairs after him. Lucius raced toward the shimmering wall and passed through just as his father turned into the corridor. Then he was on the other side of the wall. It was a large room, and he could make out little.

Then the adult Lucius felt his mind being tickled, and blinked.

He was again seven years old. And time froze. He could see metal objects. The adult Malfoy for the first time realized what they were. Cuffed restraints. Pikes. Lances. Swords. Implements of battle, of war, of torture.

And he noticed something in the back of the room. Shelves full of scrolls and books.

Time began to return to normal speed as he felt his father suddenly appear through the shimmering wall, a furious expression on his face. Lucius felt his father grab him by the collar and shake him angrily. Lucius began to cry, pressing his eyes closed against the tears as his father uttered one word: "Obliviate."

Then Lucius was in Voldemort's chambers again. The Dark Lord stared at Lucius. "The Obliviate spell failed, didn't it?"

Lucius stared at his master. "I guess ... I knew something was there. A memory. But I could never bring it to the surface. And whenever I went down to that part of the dungeons, I would get confused. Like there was something there I needed, but had forgotten what it was," he stammered, almost to himself.

Voldemort leaned back on his ornately carved throne. "Hmmm. Old Augustus never had a real stomach for the Dark Arts. It is good he was disposed of," the Dark Lord said quietly, casting a glance at Lucius. "So do you think you could find this room now?"

Lucius turned to his master with a surprised look. "Malfoy Manor has been sealed and is guarded around the clock." Then he paused and let a small smile play around the corners of his mouth. "I do believe I could get in. All we need to do is neutralize the Aurors on guard."

Voldemort gave a slow nod. "I will take care of the Aurors. You must then get in and empty that room for us. The books, Lucius. The books."

Lucius took a deep breath. "As you wish, my Lord," he said as the two Dark Wizards passed looks of understanding between them.

* * *

It was a long-forgotten, well-hidden entrance to the Malfoy Manor. Lucius looked up the small hill at the heavy patch of trees that surrounded the Manor.

He scowled. It was not a manor house. It was a fortress. The walls that you could see over the trees were heavy stone block. The windows were narrow slits, suited more for archers or wand work than for the entry of light and air. Such amenities were reserved for the inner bailey of the castle.

He heard a shuffling behind him and cast an annoyed look at his companions. The five Death Eaters who accompanied him were burly thugs, some of the dregs that had been picked up by Voldemort's recruiters from Knockturn Alley, or the Rusty Bucket in Portsmouth, or Below Zero Square in Kent. But they were strong and had enough magic that they could be counted on for heavy lifting and defense in case it was needed.

Lucius made his way past a culvert that led a small stream under the castle. He knew that the Aurors would be smart enough to ward the culvert against possible entry into the Manor from below. But that was of no concern. For twenty meters beyond the culvert was his goal.

He saw the boulder almost immediately, even though bushes had grown up around it here in the forest just beyond the Manor's grounds. He looked back at his companions and nodded. Then he turned back to the boulder and uttered a quiet spell.

As if on a hinge, the boulder opened up and revealed an entryway about four feet in diameter. Lucius heard his companions approach, but held up his arm to halt them. He then uttered a series of incantations to disable the wards and booby traps. Finally, he turned and nodded. He entered the opening and climbed down several steps and was in a long unused tunnel. The five Death Eaters followed.

The tunnel was narrow and damp, with small rivulets of water tracing a path down the middle of the walkway. They continued down the corridor for several hundred meters by the dim light of a single wand's Lumos charm until they came to a blank wall.

Lucius turned and held a finger to his lips to ensure silence. Then he turned and traced an elaborate design on the wall with his wand. Then he uttered three distinct spells.

The wall silently opened up and the six entered the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy sighed. He saw the footprints in the dust of what had to be the intruding Aurors who doubtless pillaged his home. He had to brace himself to resist taking the stairs up to first the upper level of the dungeons and then to his living quarters on the ground level. 'That time will come sooner or later, once the Dark Lord triumphs,' Lucius thought.

Instead, he took a turn to his left and found the stairs down to the second level of the dungeons. Once there, he walked slowly and silently down the corridor, then stopped suddenly, causing quiet consternation among the five other Death Eaters.

Lucius simply stared. There, at the end of the corridor, was his secret door, the invisible door that led to his collection of highly illegal dark implements. And it was wide open!

Lucius cursed under his breath. It was a lifetime collection of the best of the Dark Arts that Knockturn Alley could provide. And it had been discovered and looted by Ministry goons. 'Bloody Aurors,' the thought savagely.

Lucius slowly made his way past the open door and found the last stairwell to the deepest level of the dungeons.

He slowly descended the stairs, frowning at the uncertain shuffling of his companions as they followed. As he reached the bottom, he entered the corridor that he only vaguely remembered from his childhood--at least until Voldemort resurrected those memories. He remembered running down this corridor, past the storage rooms and cells where recalcitrant enemies were occasionally held, until he had nearly reached the end.

It was at that point that he faced the blank wall and pressed his hand against it. The surface did not yield!

Lucius closed his eyes in a near panic. Was it a false memory? Was he in the wrong place? Was this a wild goose chase? And what would he say to Voldemort if he returned empty handed?

Lucius opened his eyes and stared at the blank wall. 'I need to find the room,' he thought desperately. 'I need to get into the room!'

The wall suddenly shimmered. Lucius blinked in surprise and slowly raised his hand. It passed through the wall. Slowly he entered.

* * *

There were soft gasps from the five Death Eaters as they surveyed the weaponry. Lucius turned to them with a scowl. "Do not touch anything!" he hissed. "We are here for the books and scrolls, and any potion ingredients we might find."

"Cor!" muttered one of the Death Eaters. "Will ye' look at the jewels on that one," he saw, pointing to an elaborately decorated broadsword.

Another gasped. "I never seen a crossbow that'd take more than a single bolt. Looks like that one'd shoot five before reloading," another said.

Lucius, however, was now at the back wall. There were actually several shelves of books and scrolls. There must have been nearly 300 volumes. He was shocked at their age and their titles. These were truly Dark Arts treasures. There was even a whole shelf just on alchemy. He opened a small chest and began stacking the priceless tomes. As he finished the first chest, he glanced up for help, only to see one of his companions reach for the bejeweled broadsword.

"No!" a called out, but it was too late.

The Death Eater had taken up the sword and was looking at it intently. Suddenly, the sword seemed to glow and take on a life of its own. The Death Eater struggled to maintain control, but found the sword begin to swing around of its own accord. The other four Death Eaters began to back away in panic as the swinging sword seemed to lift itself, still in the Death Eater's grasp, above his head. Suddenly, the sword took a downward swipe and its blade cut through the Death Eater's neck, severing it from his body.

The Death Eater's now headless body swayed, then toppled, the sword clattering to the floor at his side.

Lucius closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "Idiot," he muttered. Then he turned to the other four, who stood against the wall, cowering. "All these weapons are cursed. If the wrong person attempts to wield them, this sort of thing was bound to happen." He took a deep breath. "I need another chest."

* * *

There now were four chests full of books, scrolls, and vials of various potions and ingredients. Lucius looked at them and then up at his companions. They would simply have to carry or levitate them out through the dungeons to the secret tunnel leading out of the Manor.

He nodded to the four remaining Death Eaters, then glanced down at the dead one. "Leave him," he commanded.

Lucius found the wall that provided the exit to the room and stepped through. He was about to turn back to watch the next Death Eater come through when he saw the wand pointed at him inches from his face.

"Well, well, well. Lucius Malfoy," the wizard in Auror robes drawled. "I was wondering what was so special about these dungeons that someone was willing to pay 500 Galleons to turn a blind eye to them."

Lucius saw the look of greed on the man's face.

"Drop your wand," the Auror ordered.

Lucius complied.

The Auror chuckled. "They paid me 500 Galleons, but you're worth 10,000 galleons ... dead or alive," the Auror said with an evil grin. "I think I'll take that 10,000 ... for turning you in ... dead."

At that point, the next Death Eater passed through the invisible opening in the wall, distracting the surprised Auror just enough for Lucius to palm the stiletto that he always kept up his sleeve. He slammed the blade into the Auror's chest and grabbed his wand, snapping it in half.

The second Death Eater emerged from the wall and bumped into the first, who was standing there with a stunned expression on his face. Lucius turned to the two and motioned with his head to the dead Auror. "Into the room. Leave him there with Bromley, or Bromwell, or whatever the hell his name was."

The second Death Eater looked down at the corpse, then up at Lucius. "It was Brantley, sir," he said.

Lucius blinked. "Who?"

The second Death Eater stammered. "Uh, the guy who got his head cut off in there," he muttered, motioning toward the room with his head.

Lucius snorted. "Well, dispose of this one. And leave no blood behind. Let them think he ran off."

The second Death Eater managed to drag the Auror's body back into the hidden room once the last two living Death Eaters came out.

It took another two hours before Lucius and his four companions made it out of the secret exit tunnel and were able to Portkey back to the Dark Lord's lair.

Lucius was pleased that the whole operation went relatively smoothly.

But the second Death Eater to come out of the hidden room, the one who dragged the dead Auror back in, was doubly pleased. He had earned his keep as a Death Eater. He had gotten a nod from Voldemort himself. And he was now in possession of a purse with over 500 Galleons that he had lifted off the dead Auror without anyone realizing it. Being a Death Eater was paying handsome dividends, he thought happily.

* * *

Voldemort nodded, his eyes casting a greedy look over the ancient tomes. "The sixth and seventh volumes of Dioscorides's De Materia Medica. I had thought they were lost, burned by the Muggles," he said absently as he stroked the spines of the books. "The wizarding works of Theophrastus. Hmmm. Galenicals Magicus. Excellent! And many of these texts on Potions and Alchemy I've never seen or heard of, or just heard of by reputation."

The Dark Lord finally tore his eyes from the precious books and scrolls. "You have done well, Lucius," he said in a silky voice. "Very well."

Lucius gave a small bow of appreciation.

Finally, Voldemort leaned back on his ornate throne. "So tell me, the recruitment efforts. How do they go?"

Lucius suddenly frowned. "We continue to recruit among the dregs. But they are next to useless except as shock troops. Among the purebloods, the Bulstrode brothers brought in the last of their brood around Christmas. Matthew Bulstrode. I don't trust him. A few others here and there, but not a great success," he said with some trepidation. "I await your guidance on this matter."

Voldemort, flush from his new literary acquisitions, was in a good mood. "Well, perhaps we should start making examples of those who resist, don't you think?"

Lucius gave a more elaborate bow, allowing himself a small grin. "You are right, without a doubt, My Lord."

Voldemort gave a vague gesture of dismissal. "See to it, my most loyal servant," he commanded and returned to his new treasures.

* * *

It was an overcast but unseasonably warm late February afternoon as Harry seated himself between Parvati and Hermione in the stands of the Quidditch pitch. It was Slytherin against Hufflepuff.

It promised to he an interesting match. The Hufflepuffs had an experienced chaser line, but so did the Slytherins. Both sets of beaters were new and inexperienced, although Ernie Macmillan and Wayne Hopkins of Hufflepuff were huge compared to Millicent Bulstrode and second-year Malcolm Baddock of Slytherin. The Hufflepuffs were by far the better flyers, but the Slytherins were rougher, had better brooms. and were prone to disrupt elegant chaser attacks. Slytherins' only real advantage was in their keeper, seventh-year Miles 'Jack' Bletchley, who was probably Hogwarts' best keeper. But even he would be overwhelmed by the graceful, experienced Hufflepuff chaser line unless the Slytherin chasers and beaters disrupted their charges.

The true wildcard was Mike Gillespie against Draco Malfoy. Gillespie was possibly the best pure flyer at Hogwarts, the only one who could rival Harry in the air, although not quite as daring. But Malfoy had a top broom and would do anything to win, especially after the shocking loss to Ravenclaw the previous November, where Cho Chang stunned everyone by beating a lackadaisical Draco to the snitch.

Harry leaned forward and nudged Angelina Johnson immediately in front of him. "What do you think?"

Angelina looked back and shrugged. "Hufflepuff will outscore them. So it's up to Malfoy."

Harry nodded.

Then, something odd happened. During warm-ups, as the Hufflepuffs circled the field, Mike Gillespie slowed his broom as he passed by the Gryffindor sector and glanced over to where the Gryffindor team was seated. He seemed to glance back and forth between Harry and Ginny, then he winked.

Harry turned around to look at Ginny. "What was that all about?"

Ginny merely shrugged.

* * *

Malfoy was puzzled. After the Ravenclaw fiasco, he vowed to shadow Gillespie like a second skin, relying on his Nimbus Two Thousand One and rough play to out race Gillespie on his Nimbus Two Thousand. But Gillespie just sat there, hovering on his broom, chatting casually. Malfoy looked quickly around but didn't see the snitch.

"Shut up, you stupid Hufflepuff," Malfoy exclaimed, finally losing his patience.

Gillespie simply glanced over with an inscrutable look. "Like I was saying, the Nimbus Two Thousand One has a marginal advantage in speed over the Two Thousand. It's real advantage is in its maneuverability. But that advantage depends on the flyer's ability to use it. So the broom is only as good as the flyer. Don't you agree ... "

Malfoy was seething. "Shut the hell up!"

Gillespie simply shook his head and allowed a small, knowing smile to pass over his face unseen by the annoyed Draco. The Hufflepuff seeker waited patiently until he knew he had his Slytherin counterpart's full attention. He then made to say something else, but allowed his eyes to stop and focus on something over Draco's shoulder. He turned to Malfoy and tapped him on the arm lightly. "Very well. I'll be off," Gillespie said mildly and began to accelerate.

Malfoy saw Gillespie's look and knew that he must have seen the snitch. He began to follow the Hufflepuff closely as he looked frantically to see what his rival had spotted.

But Gillespie continued to accelerate at a slight downward angle. As his speed built, Malfoy became more frantic. He still couldn't see the snitch, but knew Gillespie must have. He had heard some dimwitted Muggleborn Hufflepuff once say that Gillespie had 'fighter-pilot eyes,' and didn't know what that meant. But Draco knew it must be something that let his opponent see the snitch from great distances. So Malfoy swore to himself that would not let Gillespie get ahead. He would shadow Gillespie like he was inside the Hufflepuff's jersey.

Gillespie was now going at near full speed now with Malfoy directly on his right. Then Malfoy saw Gillespie begin to reach out. Draco was now in a panic. Where was the snitch? There was only one option. Ram him to keep him from catching the orb!

Just as Malfoy went to ram him, Gillespie yanked his broom up and made a broad 180 degree turn, causing Draco to overshoot. The Slytherin looked back and saw the Hufflepuff now racing in the opposite direction.

Draco made a panic turn, feeling the blood rush from his face. He was soon in hot pursuit, slowly catching up to his rival.

Then Gillespie slowed and glanced around with a puzzled expression. He then took off again in a rapid climb. Malfoy had no choice but to follow, ignoring Lee Jordan's screaming play-by-play from the stands. Just as Malfoy was about to catch up, Gillespie veered quickly. At that point, Malfoy looked in horror to see a bludger coming directly at him. Gillespie had led him into the bludger! Malfoy ducked frantically and felt the bludger glance painfully off his shoulder.

Gillespie was now shooting quickly downward. Malfoy cursed. Was he being feinted? Draco knew he couldn't afford to take the chance. He remembered how he had ignored what he thought was a feint by Cho Chang in the Ravenclaw match and ended up seeing her grab the snitch. That would not happen again!

Malfoy again looked frantically for the snitch, which he felt Gillespie had spotted. Again, he began to catch up to the Hufflepuff only to see him shoot through a Slytherin chaser charge. Malfoy suddenly felt the Quaffle bounce off his thigh and heard Cronin Montague, the Slytherin center chaser screaming curses at him for breaking up the attack.

Malfoy grimaced in fury as he saw Gillespie hovering calmly, looking around for the snitch and any bludgers that may come his way. Draco gave himself the luxury of a quick glance at the scoreboard and was shocked to see Hufflepuff leading, 60-10. He glanced back to see Gillespie take off toward the Slytherin goal and turned in hot pursuit.

* * *

Harry was staring wide-eyed. He had never seen a match like this. He had read numerous Quidditch books on strategy and techniques, but he had never seen a seeker act like Gillespie. Harry had twice spotted the snitch during the match only to see Gillespie busy soaring at top speed in another direction with Malfoy in his wake. Were they all feints? Or was Gillespie up to something different?

"What they hell is he doing?" Harry gasped out to a mystified Ron and Angelina.

Suddenly, he felt Ginny's hand on his shoulder and heard her quietly chuckling. He felt Ginny lean over and whisper in his ear. "Gillespie's playing tag. Only Malfoy doesn't know it," she said, now convulsing in laughter.

Harry stared out to the pitch and saw Gillespie suddenly make a corkscrew turn similar to one he himself liked to use when he and Ginny played tag against each other after practices. He leaned back against Ginny's knees and grinned. "You're kidding."

Ginny continued to laugh in delight. "It's just a question of who will wear out first."

Harry jerked his head back and stared at Ginny. "Merlin! Gillespie has been coming out with me early each morning to run up and down the grand stairwells for exercise for the past month or so! He's the only one I think who can keep up with me. I was wondering what he was doing," he said in wonder. "I thought it was just for the D.A." But he bit his tongue, knowing he himself had suggested to Gillespie that exercise would help with Quidditch.

* * *

Draco was exhausted. He had shadowed Gillespie for nearly an hour, flying for all he was worth, overshooting the Hufflepuff's quick turns and yanking his broom around in panic, only to see his rival hovering placidly looking for the snitch. Four times he had been led directly in the paths of bludgers and had been hit twice. And three times he had been led directly into the midst of a Slytherin chaser charge, disrupting them each time. Even his ramming charges had been casually avoided by the Hufflepuff who flew like some airborne matador.

How many times had his adrenaline surged only to have it come crashing down again? All Malfoy wanted to do was flop down and rest. But he wouldn't let that bastard beat him to the snitch.

Malfoy blinked as he saw Gillespie edge aside to avoid a bludger. Draco gave a quick glance around and saw the bludgers both head toward a new charge by the surprisingly fresh Hufflepuff chaser line. Then he saw the score. Hufflepuff was ahead 140-50.

Draco took a deep breath as he saw Gillespie begin to accelerate again, this time on a flat plane toward the Hufflepuff goal. And one more time, he accelerated to follow, determined to ram that Hufflepuff bastard once and for all.

Then, at the last minute, Gillespie once again pulled up, causing Malfoy to shoot past him. Draco gritted his teeth and began to make a turn back when he heard a roar. As he glanced up, he saw Gillespie flying casually toward a hysterical Hufflepuff section, holding his hand up, clutching the snitch.

Draco slumped over his hovering broom. He simply didn't have the energy to ram the son-of-a-bitch.

* * *

Silently, the curtains around Harry's bed parted. It was 3:00 am and the only sounds were of Ron's deep, rasping snores and Neville's lighter, more melodic snoring. Slowly, a dark hand reached out and clasped itself over Harry's mouth as several other hands grabbed him to hold him down. Harry woke with a start and instantly began to twist to escape.

"Calm down, you prat," a voice hissed. "You want to wake up sleeping beauty over there?"

Harry blinked as the dark hand was removed from his mouth. "Whaaa?" he gasped out in a harsh whisper.

Lee Jordan smiled, as did Fred ... or was it George? Harry could tell the Patil twins apart, but Fred and George ...

"Your map. The Marauders' Map. Get it," Gred ... or Forge ... said with an evil grin.

Harry shook the cobwebs of sleep away and quietly rose. Both twins were there along with Lee. He reached into his trunk and snatched the map, handing it to the nearest twin. "Here you go, George," he said.

The twin blinked and looked at his brother in surprise. "How could he tell?" he said in amazement.

Fred just shrugged and Harry chuckled. 'Good guess,' he thought.

George turned back to Harry. "Well, get dressed. You don't expect us to do this alone, do you? And don't forget your heavy robe."

Harry stared at the trio of seventh years. Finally, he shrugged and got dressed.

The four, aided by the Marauder's Map, made it out of the castle without being discovered. Once out in the cold, March night air, Fred, George and Lee huddled with Harry. "We needed your power, Harry. So here's the incantation," one of the twins explained.

Harry frowned. It was an elaborate variant of a disillusionment charm. The three seventh years had him repeat it over and over again in the dim light from the few exterior torches still lit. Finally, the four pointed their wands at the castle and uttered the lengthy incantation.

Then, the four broke up and each took a position at a corner of the castle. After 15 minutes, Harry saw the last of the shooting star charms to signal that everyone was in position. Then he began the second incantation the twins and Lee had taught him.

After about a minute, he finished. A few minutes later, the four regrouped at the entrance of the castle. Fred and George muttered a series of charms, pointing their wands above the main doors of the castle. Finally, they backed off until they were about 100 feet from the castle. Harry and Lee followed and watched as the twins muttered two more charms each. Harry blinked as he saw what seemed to be small flames light about 10 feet above the spires of each of the four corner towers of the castle.

"Well, that's it," one of the twins said with a grin. "Now, we wait for breakfast."

* * *

Ron was only half awake as he sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He looked past Hermione at Harry. "You look about as tired as I feel," he muttered.

Harry blinked and gave him an evil grin. "Just out carousing last night, that's all. What about you?" he said with a laugh.

Ron simply shook his head and tucked in to breakfast.

Hermione gave Harry a sideward glance. She casually leaned over toward Harry. "Anything planned for Ron?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

Harry gave her a broad grin, which was interrupted by an agonized shout.

"They've ruined the castle!" Filch yelled as he staggered into the Great Hall.

Heads snapped up and people stared at the grizzled, distraught caretaker.

Students and teachers began to rise in alarm. Harry glanced at Lee and the twins and nodded. He then turned to Ron. "Quick, Ron. Get your wand out! It might be an attack!"

Ron rose in alarm and was dragged by Harry toward the entrance of the Great Hall, with Fred, George and Lee following closely behind.

The five raced across the entryway and burst through the main entrance to the castle, now followed by a crowd of students and a few of the quicker professors.

Ron was confused. The area in front of the castle seemed deserted, but he dutifully followed his brothers, Harry and Lee as they raced past the main drive leading up to the castle until they were over 200 feet up the carriage path.

Harry, Fred, George, and Lee made a show of looking around for trouble, then turned to each other and shrugged. Soon, they were joined by several dozen students and professors who also kept looking around for signs of danger. Harry then couldn't help but grin. "False alarm," he called out. "Better get back inside before we freeze."

Ron blinked, the adrenaline wearing off and turned to face the castle. It was then that he saw it. The Castle looked like it was covered in a thick layer of strawberry icing. And there, above the entranceway in 10-foot-high lettering in what looked like red icing, was a huge sign: 'Happy 16^th Birthday Ron!!!' His eyes rose above the castle to see the Astronomy Tower, the Ravenclaw Tower, the North Tower and the Gryffindor Tower seemingly transformed into huge, red-and-white striped candles, with flames glowing happily about 10 feet above each of them.

It looked like the biggest birthday cake anyone had ever seen.

"Make a wish and blow them out," Lee exclaimed.

Ron turned to the four conspirators in confusion.

"Well ... blow them out," Harry said happily, slapping his best friend on the back.

Ron blushed a furious red. Finally, after being poked by his brothers, he made a half-hearted, embarrassed effort to blow out the 'candles.' His brothers made a quick flick of their wands and the flames above each of the corner towers seemed to flicker out.

Suddenly, a few Gryffindor girls who had joined the throng of astounded students to witness the prank, began to sing 'Happy Birthday' to Ron. They were soon joined by at least a hundred other students who were laughing and gaping at the redecorated castle.

Ron was soon overwhelmed as over a dozen girls, mostly Gryffindors led by an amazed Hermione, gave him birthday kisses on the cheek.

As the group slowly made their way back into 'Ron's birthday cake,' Harry heard Snape growling about detentions, but then heard Dumbledore and McGonagall laugh. "If we find out who did this, we can hire them to renew the Muggle disillusionment charms on the castle," the Headmaster said with a broad smile.

"Happy Birthday, mate," Harry said to his dazed and blushing, but now smiling, best friend.

* * *

"Okay," said the voice in the inky blackness. "Do your worst!"

Several dozen jets of dull lavender light shot out of the darkness. Then another series of jets.

Then came a moan. "Okay, okay. Enough!" Harry raised his wand and groaned out a raspy Lumos charm and the cavernous room lit up. He was squirming as he passed his wand over his body. "Finite Incantatum!" he shouted, resisting the urge to scratch the itching feeling he felt over most of his body.

He then turned to assembled first, second and third years looking at him with a broad variety of expressions, from concentration to puzzlement to outright glee. "That's concealment," he announced to the youngest of his Defense Association group. He then glared as Ron, standing behind the younger students with Parvati, Hermione, Kevin Entwhistle and Hannah Abbott, burst out laughing. "And next time I demonstrate something like this, I think Ron would be glad to volunteer," he growled.

Ron couldn't help but laugh as Harry still felt the effects of three random itching charms managed to hit him in the dark in the second volley of his demonstration. "Go ahead ... scratch that itch," Ron said gleefully as Hermione elbowed him.

Harry shook his head and turned back to the now grinning young students. "That's the flaw of concealment, whether it's through physical objects like bushes or through concealment or disillusionment charms. Even though your opponent can't see you, that doesn't mean you are safe from a random hex or a good guess about your position by your opponent. Now, if I hid behind the couch over there, none of your Titilliaro hexes would have had any effect," he continued. "Plus, I would have the confidence of returning spells or hexes, not caring about giving away my position as I would presume that you would know where I am and would have to worry about flushing me from cover."

The young students looked at each other. "So, you should never use concealment charms or objects?" first year Gryffindor Samantha Bauman asked.

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes, there is no choice but to conceal yourself. This is especially good when your opponent doesn't know you're there or when you are in a one-on-one fight. But in a battle, cover beats concealment if you can find cover."

The young students looked at each other and nodded their general understanding.

Hermione signaled Harry and he nodded back. "Well, I guess that's about all for this afternoon. I want you to all practice your shields. I know some of you younger students are having some problems. Just ask one of your older housemates or friends to help if you really can't get it. And remember what I told you about keeping in shape. Just practice those side-to-side exercises I showed you. That will help you to dodge spells, hexes, and curses in tight situations when your shields and counters don't work or aren't strong enough."

The young students nodded or otherwise acknowledged him and began filing out.

Harry flopped down in the couch next to Parvati and continued to resist the temptation of scratching. He knew the itching hex was merely in his mind, not real, but that didn't stop the residual tingling feeling on his skin.

Hermione walked up next to the couple. "You know, the OWLs are only a few months away. We should be preparing soon. I've got a whole study schedule laid out if you two would like to get together," she said with an odd expression on her face.

Parvati cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe," she said. "But not right now."

Hermione stopped and pursed her lips.

As Harry continued to squirm over the after-effects of the itching hexes he'd received, Parvati got up from the conjured couch. "Want me to scratch that itch?" she said with a mischievous grin.

Harry looked up with a twinkle in his eye.

Parvati quickly gave him a pinch and bolted for the door. "But you'll have to catch me first!" she exclaimed, giving a glance back at Harry.

Harry jumped of the couch and raced after her.

Hermione just stood there as she watched as first Parvati, then Harry, race out of the room. She heard Parvati's squealing laughter, then the door to the great stairwells slam. "I'll get you!" Hermione heard Harry shout with a laugh and then heard the sound of the door slamming open, then closing again.

Hermione simply closed her eyes in annoyance. 'It's a little early for that sort of thing,' she thought darkly.

* * *

It was a Friday afternoon. As was her habit, Parvati had left for the Ravenclaw Tower to see her sister Padma. Harry sauntered into the Gryffindor Common Room intent on going up to the dorm to write to Tony and Mae. But Hermione jumped up and grabbed him, forcing him to sit down at the fifth year study table on the far left hand corner of the common room, on the opposite wall from the great fireplace.

"You've been avoiding this for the past week, Harry Potter," she exclaimed with a frown. "We've got to start studying for our OWLs."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think I'm in good shape. And anyway, where's Ron? He needs it more than me," he said in exasperation.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "He disappeared, as usual. Whenever I mention the OWLs, he runs off somewhere."

Harry shook his head.

Hermione reached into her satchel and withdrew a mound of notes. "I thought we'd start with Charms," she said absently as she reached into the satchel again to make sure she had everything. "We can go through the basics from the first three years in a hurry. They aren't generally tested, but if you miss something elementary, it can hurt you on the more advanced portions of the OWL exam."

Harry rolled his eyes again and sighed. "Okay. Now what?"

"Let's start with a stacking charm. You know, like stacking a lot of dirty dishes," she said with enthusiasm.

Harry again rolled his eyes, but this time Hermione caught him at it. "What, like boys don't ever have to worry about dirty dishes? Well, pretend you're stacking a bunch of brooms for the Quidditch team. Does that help?"

Harry shook his head in exasperation. He saw several books that Hermione had laid out before hand and waved his wand broadly. "Coacervare," he muttered as the books rose and piled themselves haphazardly on top of each other.

Hermione sighed as she looked at the precarious result of Harry's charm. "Oh, honestly, Harry," she said in exasperation. "You're waving your wand like Stokowski. It's a crisp, compact motion. Like this." Hermione them did a less exaggerated version of the wand movements that Harry had just performed..

Harry frowned. "Okay. But who's Stokowski?"

Hermione looked up in surprise. "What? Harry, haven't you ever seen Fantasia?"

Harry frowned. "What's Fantasia?" he asked in quiet puzzlement.

Hermione slumped in her chair. "It's a Disney film. It was a series of classical music pieces animated by Disney. Leopold Stokowski was the conductor. He was famous for being real dramatic, waving his baton like a madman. Haven't you ever seen it?"

Harry paused and frowned. Then he shrugged. "I never saw a real Muggle film ... well, I saw parts of some on the Muggle tele, I suppose." Then he paused. "Disney makes movies for kids, right?"

Hermione sighed. "You never saw a Disney film? I used to love them. My mum and dad bought me videos of most of the great Disney films. Snow White. Sleeping Beauty. Cinderella. Beauty and the Beast. And Fantasia. I liked Fantasia a lot. That's what got me interested in classical music. You never saw those films?"

Harry shrugged. "I've heard of Cinderella ... and maybe Sleeping Beauty. But I thought 'Snow White' was a laundry soap."

Hermione sighed dreamily. "I used to watch Disney films all the time," she said, now gasping Harry's arm. "I loved Beauty and the Beast. And Snow White." Hermione was now squeezing Harry's forearm absently as she stared off into space. "But my favorite was Cinderella. I would dream about the day when my prince would come and the glass slipper would fit and he would sweep me off my feet and take me away to live happily ever after in a beautiful castle. When I got my Hogwarts letter, I thought that was as close as I'd come. I guess Professor McGonagall visiting my parents was my equivalent of Prince Charming," she said with a rueful laugh as she continued to grip Harry's arm. "I didn't know if there was anyone who could sweep me off my feet and take me back to his castle. But I did end up in a beautiful castle after all. Now all I need is the prince," she said quietly as she stared at Harry.

Suddenly, the portrait door opened and Ron walked in, carrying the Wizarding Wireless set Harry had given him for his birthday and looking out of sorts. "Damned Midwitch Cuckoos," he muttered, before looking up and seeing Hermione's expression as she looked at Harry. "Bloody hell," he exclaimed, and stalked up the stairs to the dorms.

Harry looked up the stairs with a puzzled expression, then back to Hermione, who looked confused. "I'm going to go check on Ron," he said uncertainly, and raced up the stairs to the dorms.

As Harry entered the dorm, he was met by a furious Ron. "So, having one girl isn't enough for you!" he yelled. "Now you have to go after Hermione, too!"

Harry stared. "What are you talking about!" he gasped.

Ron stood and walked up to Harry. "I saw how you were looking at her. And how she was looking at you!" he growled.

"You're mental!" Harry snapped back.

Ron was now nearly nose-to-nose with Harry. "I wondered why she would never be nice to me like a girlfriend. What, are the two of you sneaking around behind my back?" he shouted.

Harry blinked. "What are you on about? She's my friend."

"Stay away from her!" Ron shouted, bumping his chest against Harry's.

"Knock it off! She's my friend!" Harry retorted.

"I. Said. Stay. Away!" Ron shouted, pushing Harry backwards.

Harry, now angry, moved forward and bumped back against Ron's chest. "I'll talk to her if I want!"

Ron pushed Harry again, rougher this time. "Hands off."

Harry bounced back and pushed Ron back. "Stop it!"

At this point, Ron grabbed Harry around the neck and the two began wrestling angrily. Harry was tempted to try a martial arts move, but he decided he would simply try to outmuscle his friend.

Ron, feeling Harry's strength in grabbing back, shifted, partially lifting the smaller Harry off his feet.

As Ron did this, Harry, surprised at the redhead's own strength, attempted to twist his body out of Ron's grasp. All he succeeded in doing is cause both to lose their balance. Harry began to fall backward and saw Ron's eyes widen in alarm. Harry felt the back of his head violently graze against the footboard of his four-poster bed before toppling on his back on the floor with Ron on top of him, knocking the wind out of him.

Ron jumped up and looked in horror at his friend, who was gasping for breath and whose head was now bleeding. "Harry--mate. I'm ... I'm sorry!" he managed to gasp out.

Harry glanced up, his eyes, absent his glasses which had been knocked off in the scuffle, slowly focusing on his friend. "Head ... hurts," he managed to say between gasping breaths. Harry blinked in seeming concentration. "Get ... Katie ... or Ginny."

Ron's mouth opened and closed a couple times as he stared at his wounded friend. "I'm ... sorry, Harry." Ron suddenly blinked a couple times and bolted for the door.

Moments later, Ginny came running in and saw Harry trying to sit up. She squatted down and Harry managed to grab her shoulder and right himself, sitting bent at the waist and hunched over as he slowly recovered his breath. "What happened?" Ginny exclaimed.

Ron, near tears, moaned. "It's all my fault ... "

Ginny turned and glared at her brother. "What the hell did you do to him?!" she screamed, causing Harry and Ron to wince.

Suddenly Katie Bell burst into the room, followed by Fred and George, then Parvati and Hermione. There were several gasps and cries as they saw a small smear of blood next to Harry and saw a patch of blood-matted hair on the left side of the back of Harry's head.

Harry shook his head. "I was .. showing Ron some karate ... I slipped," he said quietly.

Ginny took out her wand and gently probed Harry's scalp. Katie squatted next to her and looked carefully for the wound. "Just a bad scrape," Ginny muttered and Katie nodded.

"Head wounds bleed like anything ... " Katie said absently as she parted Harry's messy hair. "There!" she said, pointing to a small flap of bloody scalp less than an inch long.

Ginny nodded as a fretting Parvati suddenly appeared over her shoulder. Ginny glanced over at Katie, who shrugged and nodded. At that, Ginny muttered a general healing spell and the small wound began closing and the bleeding stopped. She sighed and withdrew her hand, which now was smeared with traces of Harry's blood. "Boys!" she exclaimed under her breath.

Katie chuckled. "Well, Harry. You should have a nice lump there for a day or two. Try not to go bald. You'll have a nice little scar there," she said, ruffling his messy hair.

"It wouldn't be the first," Harry said absently as he felt Katie's hand pause and palpate his scalp.

"What's this?" Katie asked as she rubbed a small ridge near the top of Harry's scalp. "And this?" as she felt another.

Harry shrugged. "I bumped my head a couple times when I was a kid."

"They did that," Parvati whispered to Harry as she was now sitting next to him, holding his hand.

Harry merely shrugged.

"Did what?" Hermione exclaimed in alarm.

"The Muggles?" Ron said with eyes wide.

Harry merely shrugged again. "I just bumped my head a couple times, okay?"

Fred and George then dragged Ron aside and began whispering to him with uncharacteristically serious expressions. Ron simply lowered his head and didn't respond.

Hermione was now fretting and wringing her hands. "Harry, you should go see Madame Pomfrey. You could have a concussion! You could get a blood clot or brain damage or something!"

Ginny burst out laughing and mussed Harry's hair herself. "It's just a scrape, not from a blow. If he goes to Pomfrey, she'll probably cut an inch-wide strip of hair off just to make sure that there's no problem." She paused and gave him a look. "I wonder what you'd look like with a racing stripe cut out of your hair."

Parvati, still sitting on the floor next to Harry, gasped and grasped his arm. "That's all you need. To end up looking like that Muggle friend of yours--Jim, uh, what's his name?"

Harry snorted and smiled for the first time. "Jim Jamison." He looked up at his friends. "He cuts his hair on the sides and back real short but leaves it long and curly on top,"

Hermione blinked. "Like Lyle Lovett?"

The group looked up at Hermione with blank expressions. Hermione sighed sadly. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?" she asked Harry.

Harry nodded, oblivious of the sudden glare by Parvati at Ginny, who was still stroking Harry's hair. Ginny suddenly blinked and stood up. "Well, I think the patient will live," she announced as she looked at the others in the room.

Fred and George glanced back at Ron, who simply walked over to his bed and sat down with a shamed look on his face. Then they followed their sister out of the dorm. Katie raised her eyebrow at Hermione, who was still fretting, and led her out, as well.

Finally, Parvati sighed. "Wash your hair before you come down to supper," she said quietly. "You look like a victim of the Bloody Baron." She slowly rose and helped Harry to his feet. "You okay?"

Harry shrugged. "It's sore ... but I'm not dizzy or nauseous or anything. I guess I'm okay," he said with a crooked smile.

Parvati gave the side of his head a kiss and smiled. "See you down in the Great Hall in about a half hour."

Harry sighed and rubbed the area of his head where he had been hurt.

"Harry ... I'm really sorry," Ron said in a small, stricken voice.

Harry sighed and gave his friend a sad smile. "What was that all about, anyway?"

Ron flopped back on his bed. "I don't know. I just saw Hermione talking and holding your arm and I saw how she was looking at you. She never seems to look at me that way."

Harry, who was absently stroking his hair where he was hurt and checking his fingers for new blood, frowned. "I don't want Hermione as a girlfriend," he said quietly. "I've got a girlfriend. I'm not trying to start anything with Hermione."

Ron took a deep breath. "What were you talking about?"

Harry frowned and thought for a moment. "It was stupid, I guess. She was telling me about these kids films she used to like. Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast."

Ron frowned. "I've heard of Cinderella. But that's a little witch's story. Ginny used to read that all the time when she was little. How did Hermione hear about that? She's a Muggle."

Harry grunted. "I guess the Muggles heard about it, too."

Ron rolled over. "Yeah. Beauty and the Beast. That's us. I guess she's the beauty and I'm the beast."

Harry looked up. "What are you talking about?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, she's pretty and all. When she dresses up, like at the Yule Ball, she's a beauty," he said wistfully. "But me? I'm just ... well, nobody'd ever name me one of the sexiest wizards around," he said with a crooked smile.

Harry rolled his eyes, then looked directly at Ron. Then he looked thoughtful and a mischievous grin formed. "You look like someone familiar."

Ron blinked. "Who? Moody?" he said with a rueful laugh.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "No ... Let's see, your hair is shorter ... and you don't have a earring ... "

Ron glanced up in confusion. "Oh, please. Tell me I look like Susan Bones and I'll kill you. Just because she's got red hair."

Harry smirked. "No. Actually, you look like your brother Bill."

Ron sat up bolt upright. "Bill?"

Harry nodded. "Well, you all have a family resemblance. But Fred and George, and your brother Charlie, are all broader and more compact. Percy is thinner, but he has smaller features. You're tall and lanky like Bill. When you're older, you and Bill will probably look like twins."

"But .. but ... Bill's like some sort of sex symbol. He's dating Fleur Delacour, for Merlin's sake."

Harry shrugged.

Ron flopped back on his bed thoughtfully. Then he frowned. "So why doesn't anyone like me?"

Harry sighed again and leaned against a bedpost. "What is it that you want, Ron?"

Ron sighed and paused. "Well .. I just want what you have..." Then he blushed and sputtered. "Uh, that didn't come out right," he exclaimed, throwing an arm across his reddening face as he recalled one of his stupid remarks last year during the TriWizard Tournament. "What I mean is that I want someone to like me for me. When you are with Parvati, she listens to just you or talks to just you. When you're studying, you lean up against each other and read or talk. Like she's only interested in you. When I'm with Hermione, I get the feeling she's thinking about or talking about everything or anything but me," he said, now breathing heavily. "I'd just like to have a girlfriend who would treat me like the center of attention for once. Not like McGonagall nagging me to study more."

Harry frowned. "I'm sure that's not true."

Ron continued to breath heavily. "It feels that way."

Harry shook his head. "Why do you like Hermione?" he said softly.

Ron raised his arm and stared up at the ceiling. "Well, she's my friend. She likes me, I guess. She's the only girl I know who I can talk to like a person." He paused. "Plus, she's real pretty," he said with a vague chuckle.

Harry shook his head. "Pretty?"

Ron's breathing seemed to ease a bit. He turned to Harry with a wry grin. "Like you'd go out with Karen 'Homely' Holmes from Hufflepuff. Or 'Moon-Face' Su Li from Ravenclaw ... "

Harry snorted in annoyance.

".. or Millicent 'the Bull' Bulstrode."

Harry flinched. He closed his eyes in sorrow. 'How could Millicent be so much fun and still be a Death Eater,' Harry thought sadly. "I've got to take a shower," he said quietly and collected his toiletries and walked out of the room.

Ron simply stared at him in confusion.

* * *

An angry Draco stood in the far corner of his dorm and glanced at Volume I of the Orfeo Torre Dueling Manual Snape had given him for Christmas. He then nodded and levitated a balled-up sock and motioned it to the other end of the dorm. He then looked down and closed his eyes for a moment. Then, in a rapid movement, he swung his wand up.

"Secare!" he exclaimed in a fury.

A bright yellow light shot out of his wand and just clipped the edge of the hovering sock. He scowled.

"Reparo!" he shouted at the small mark on the stone wall just beyond the hovering sock, and the mark disappeared.

Draco frowned darkly. It was an excellent attempt, he knew. But if he was to become a truly dangerous dueler, he should be able to use the slicing curse like a surgeon. Then he began to chuckle. After all, the Secare spell was used by wizarding surgeons for invasive procedures that couldn't be corrected with potions or spells.

He again looked down and closed his eyes. Then he looked up and fired the spell. This time, it hit the side of the balled up sock and left it spinning in mid-air, with a small slice of cloth dangling below.

"Most impressive, Mr. Malfoy," Snape drawled.

Draco looked up, startled.

"However, I would suggest you place a locking or warning charm on the door so that one of your classmates does not burst in only to find himself skewered," Snape continued.

Draco raised his head. "Just studying the books you gave me," he said in what he hoped wasn't a defensive tone.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You have been skipping meals?"

Draco pursed his lips. "I get food from the house elves. Shunar is most accommodating."

Snape nodded. "He has always been a friend to our House," he said quietly. Then he narrowed his gaze. "I expected better of you against Hufflepuff. I presume your Housemates did as well."

Draco scowled and felt the heat rise in his cheeks. His housemates' anger over his Quidditch performance, among other things, was exactly why he had taken to staying alone in his dorm room during supper.

Snape cleared his throat. "Still, that is no reason to take to hiding under your bed like some Ravenclaw who bollixed an exam or some broken-hearted Gryffindor pining for his lady love," the Potions Master said with a snort. "A Slytherin faces up to adversity and finds a way to overcome, or turn it to his advantage.

Draco simply nodded, his head still hanging.

Snape then slowly glanced up. "I presume you have been in contact with your father," he said in an oily voice. "I am not asking," he said after a pause. "But I am sure you are in his thoughts," he added with an inscrutable smile. "Come, it is time for dinner."

Draco frowned. "I'll eat here, sir," he said quietly.

Snape gave a curt nod and strode out of the dorm. Only when he was safely in the corridor did he give in to a smirk. He knew that Draco had not heard directly from his father since Christmas. He had a special charm set up to alert him to any letters from Lucius, no matter how carefully disguised.

And he knew how annoyed Lucius was with Draco for failing to pay heed to the children of the Death Eaters in Slytherin House. And how furious he was that Draco had lost not just to Ravenclaw, but to Hufflepuff in Quidditch. Lucius saw this as a betrayal of the Malfoy breeding. Snape had a good idea of the threats and angry instructions that were being relayed third and fourth-hand through Theo Nott and, especially, the arrogant and nasty Cronin Montague, that Draco must be receiving.

He chuckled silently. 'Yes, Lucius. We can count on you to be the worst parent possible,' Snape thought. 'There may be hope for young Draco yet.'

* * *

It was a warm March Friday as Harry and Parvati sat at a back table with Lavender and Seamus in the Three Broomsticks. Parvati's sister Padma was at the next table, looking bored as her boyfriend, Terry Boot, was chattering on about something with Kevin Entwhistle, who was out with Mandy Brocklehurst.

Parvati smiled to herself. It was wonderful that Professor Dumbledore had declared every other weekend as a Hogsmeade Weekend. She knew from her parents that it was thanks to pressure from the Hogsmeade merchants, who were paying for the Aurors to protect the students. A lot of good it did last month, she thought. But she knew the merchants had raised hell with the Ministry over the attack by that little Daily Prophet thug. Still, the students had agreed to enter and leave in groups since then.

Then she again gazed over at her sister at the next table. Parvati leaned over to whisper to Harry. "One of these days, Padma is going to find someone who at least has a personality."

Harry chuckled over his butterbeer. He liked Padma and Mandy, and Kevin seemed to be a decent sort, even if he was the weak link on a mediocre Ravenclaw Quidditch team. But he really didn't think much of Terry. He was supposed to be a bright guy, but the few times Harry had talked with him, as when the Patil twins dragged them along on a double date, Harry found him to be deadly dull. He would take a conversation and go off on some tangent and expound the subject for ten minutes and leave the table scrambling to figure out where the original conversation left off before the Boot lecture.

Harry shook his head. "Maybe when they're alone, he gets better."

Parvati gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Oh, puh-leeeze. He's from the planet Neptune. All this oxygen here on Earth clogs his brain. I keep telling her to give Terry the boot, but does she listen to the voice of experience?"

Harry let out a laugh. "I didn't realize that being eight minutes older than your sister made you the font of wisdom among the Patil twins."

Parvati giggled. "No really, he's no fun and she's constantly complaining. But does she say word one to him? I don't think so." She turned to Lavender, who was laughing over another of Seamus's ridiculous, but almost plausible, tall tales. "Lavender," Parvati said, motioning her roommate in close. "Who could we set my sister up with? Or who could we arrange as a donor for a personality transplant for Terry?"

Lavender gave her own eye roll. "Oh, you're not going to start that again, are you?"

Parvati motioned with her head to the next table. Lavender turned to see Padma, leaning her head in her palm, staring off into space as Terry continued to talk to Entwhistle.

Lavender turned back. "Pretty grim. But who's available?"

At this point, Ron and Dean walked over to the table. Harry smiled. "Pull up some chairs, you two. Seamus and I are going to need some company as these two..." as he nodded in Parvati's and Lavender's direction "...are busy plotting the end of the world."

Ron spun a chair backwards and sat down, resting his chin on the chair back. "When are they not plotting?" he said with a smile. "When they aren't plotting to match couples up, they're plotting to break couples up so they can have new people to match up."

Dean grabbed a chair and stretched out his full six-foot-three inch frame into a corner of the pub. "Hey, Seamus. What ho?"

Seamus laughed. "I see you two are competing again for the prize for tallest couple. One of these days they'll actually have a competition. You two would win, hands down."

The boys laughed. But suddenly Parvati and Lavender turned to cast an appraising glance at the two newcomers. The girls quietly moved their chairs away from the four boys and put their heads together.

"What about Dean?" Parvati whispered to Lavender.

Lavender made a face. "I don't know...he's too quiet. Padma needs someone with more personality to bring her out of her shell."

Parvati glanced back at Dean. "I don't know. You know what they say: 'Still waters run deep'."

Lavender gave a soft chuckle. "Parvati, I was raised on a farm. I know better. 'Still waters run stagnant'," she said with a soft laugh.

The two girls smiled at each other and glanced over at Padma, who had turned and gave them an eye roll of her own. Padma then turned back to try to catch whatever thread was left of her table's shredded conversation.

Lavender turned back to Parvati. "What about Ron?"

Parvati's expression darkened considerably. "I don't know, Lav. He's been paying court to Hermione for the past few months. She was bad enough when Harry and I became a couple. If she lost Ron, she'd probably take a dive off the Astronomy Tower."

Lavender looked strangely at Parvati. "Look, Hermione has been treating Ron as a house elf for all that time. I bet they haven't even held hands yet. I think Ron's doing all that because he's a friend. And, quite frankly, who cares how Hermione feels? She's been a pain in the arse for four and a half years, with her airs and her grades and her general superior attitude. You, of all people, should be the last one to care. After all, she tried to steal Harry away from you after all she did to him."

Parvati started to say something, but Lavender cut her off. "I heard about that library story, too. Seamus overheard something between Harry and Ron. The only reason I haven't said anything is because he made me promise not to tell. And I figured that you promised Harry the same thing, since you never mentioned it to me. So I never said anything to anyone. But I know. And I believe it. Now she's doing the same thing to Ron. And quite frankly, he may be a little thick, but he's too nice a guy to have to put up with that sort of treatment."

Parvati's face clouded. "Look, I've had a couple talks with Hermione. She's absolutely clueless when it comes to boys. Maybe I can work on her a little. Let's not get ahead of the game with her. I'd hate to walk in to the bedroom and find she's splattered herself." Parvati bit back a comment about her fears of what would happen with Hermione and Harry if Ron wasn't there as a distraction.

Lavender gave Parvati a shrug. "If you think so."

Lavender then turned to Ron. "Hey Ron. Where's Hermione?" She asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Ron's face clouded. "Awww, she's banging her head against the wall over her OWLs. You know how upset she got when she dropped down to second in the class after last term. She hasn't been the same since ... then."

Parvati turned back to Lavender. "Give me a chance to work on Hermione before you start making plans about Ron. Okay?"

Lavender shrugged. "If you say so."

* * *

Hermione was surprised that night when she walked into the fifth year girls' dorm to find Parvati sprawled out on her bed in the far corner, reading.

"Parvati. I thought you'd still be out with Harry or something," she said evenly.

Parvati turned on her side in the bed and rested her head on her hand. "I don't know. Harry had to be back early from Hogsmeade because it's his turn to make the rounds tonight. They should outlaw weekend prefects' rounds, especially on Hogsmeade weekends," she said with a pout. Plus, I had some transfiguration reading to do and it was a little noisy and distracting in the common room."

Hermione nodded. "Tell me about it," she said with a small smile as she put most of her books and parchments in her trunk.

Parvati went back to her book and read for a couple minutes as Hermione left to wash up and returned to change into her pajamas.

Just as Hermione settled in to start reading, Parvati put her book down and turned in Hermione's direction. "Hey, Herm? Are you and Ron a couple?"

Hermione's head jerked up. "What?"

Parvati, keeping her voice nonchalant, looked over at the other girl. "It's just that my sister is pretty sick of dating that bore Terry Boot. I know we always see you and Ron together in class and in the common room, but you never seem to go out together on, well, like a date. So when I saw Ron at the Three Broomsticks with Dean, I wondered whether the two of you were together, or just friends..."

Hermione felt a chill go through her. She had lost Harry to this girl. Although her bitterness had ebbed, Parvati was now suggesting that Ron should see Padma. She began to get upset.

"I...well...yeah. I guess we're sort of going together," she stammered.

Parvati nodded. "I see. I just mentioned it because you two are never together doing fun stuff. Like dating or sneaking off for a snog. Like that. And he always seems so lonely on Hogsmeade weekends. With Moira Duffy dragging Neville here and there, the only one he seems to hang out with is Dean. I mean, they make a cute couple, but I don't think that's what either of them have in mind when they think of fun dates," she said with a chuckle.

Hermione's panic was rising. "But...I went with Ron to Hogsmeade."

Parvati arched her brows. "Really? I don't remember ever seeing you two together there."

Hermione's brain went into overdrive. "It was...it was...Oh, the night when you and Harry had that fight and...I came in and found you...oh..."

Parvati blushed. "Oh, yeah. Look, I'm so sorry about that," she said with an embarrassed grin. "But...that was over a month ago. You haven't been out with him since?"

Hermione flushed. "Well...we've been kind of busy..."

Parvati turned to look at Hermione across Lavender's unoccupied bed. "Look, Hermione. I'm not trying to push Padma between you and Ron. But if he's going to be your boyfriend, you've got to treat him like a boyfriend. You've got to pay more attention to him. You've got to let him know you care about him. And you've got to make some sacrifices to make him happy...like giving up a little of your study time to be with him, to have a little fun. Jeez, he's fifteen years old ... no sixteen. You're fifteen years old. You guys should be enjoying yourselves a little. Instead, I see you rush from class to the library to meals to the library, more often than not with Ron in tow. But for all the attention he pays to you, I bet you've never even given him a kiss. Boys need a little care and feeding every once in a while. And Ron is a nice guy, and a nice looking one. Don't take him for granted, Hermione."

Hermione found that she had tears in her eyes. "Professor McGonagall said that," she said with a sniffle. "I didn't think...."

"Yes, you did," Parvati said softly. "That's all you do is think. But sometimes, you have to stop thinking and start feeling. And start acting on those feelings. Ron and I had one terrible date together, but that's because we weren't a good match. But he's a wonderful guy. You should be happy he likes you enough to be with you all the time, to be your boyfriend..."

Hermione was sniffling. "But what if he doesn't really like me...?"

Parvati rolled her eyes. "But what if he does?" she said in a low but firm voice. "I suggest that the next time you see him, you give him a hug or a kiss and tell how sweet he is. Maybe hold his hand. Then, maybe, you won't have as much to fear from matchmakers like me."

Hermione looked up at Parvati through her tears. "Is that what you were doing just now...matchmaking?"

Parvati smiled. "Of course."

Hermione looked down at her lap. "But not between Ron and Padma."

Parvati's smile broadened. "No."

She nodded. "Thank you, Parvati," she said quietly.

Hermione went to bed that night with more on her mind than just her studies.

* * *

Parvati was walking out of the Great Hall after breakfast when she was approached by Madame Pomfrey. "Miss Patil, do you have a moment?"

Parvati stopped and blinked. "Uh, I guess."

The school nurse gave a curt nod and began to ascend the grand staircase. Parvati obediently followed up the two flights to the Hospital Wing. The two walked past the hospital ward itself and went directly to Madame Pomfrey's office.

Pomfrey picked up a small vial and handed it to Parvati. "Here, drink this."

Parvati frowned, then obeyed. She tasted the potion's bitter almond aftertaste, then looked up in surprise, recognizing it.

"I am hoping you do not still need this, but I expect that it is better to be safe," Pomfrey said. The shaking her head with pursed lips, she continued. "When I was your age, nice girls waited until they were married ... "

There was a sudden snicker from the doorway. It was Pomfrey's assistant, Mercy.

Pomfrey arched her eyebrows.

Mercy was grinning mischievously. "Didn't you tell me that four of your classmates had babies here at Hogwarts and it was a race to the altar after graduation for a half dozen others?"

Pomfrey sniffed at Mercy. "I was talking about nice girls, young lady," she huffed. "And two of those poor girls lost the fathers of their children to Grindelwald before they had a chance to make their unions legal." Pomfrey's face suddenly lapsed into a sad frown. "Such tragedy," she whispered.

Parvati was staring between the two healers. 'Had it been six months already since she had taken the contraceptive potion?' she thought.

As if sensing Parvati's confusion, Pomfrey reached out a touched her arm. "I know it's a couple weeks earlier than I had said, but the potion was ready and I thought it was best to be safe."

Parvati looked at her with wide eyes. "But you said it was good for six months! You mean it should be good, or it is good for six months?"

Pomfrey sighed. "You have nothing to be worried about, child. Now get on with you," she said, shooing Parvati out the door.

However, Parvati was now truly worried. 'Why had she been brought up here early if the potion was good for the full six months?' she thought. 'What if Pomfrey discovered that there was a flaw in the last batch? What if it gradually lost its effectiveness over time? What if? What if?'

* * *

"Seamus!" Dean called. "You want to go to the Three Broomsticks together tonight? We could stop off at Zonkos and Honeydukes, too."

Seamus was still in bed, enjoying an extended lie-in by skipping breakfast. He looked up groggily. "Whaaa...?"

"Hogsmeade. Remember? Want to go pub crawling tonight?" Dean said, smiling in anticipation.

Seamus shook his head. "I guess..." He turned over to go back to sleep, when he turned back to Dean. "Oh, wait. I promised Lavender I'd take her to the other place tonight. The French place. Whatever the hell it's name is...the Marching Frog..."

Dean's face fell. "Oh...Le Manche a Balais." He sat back down on his bed, disappointed. He turned to Neville. "What about you, Neville? You up for a little fun tonight?"

Neville was slowly and methodically putting together his toiletries in preparation for his shower. He looked up blankly. "Oh...ah...I've sort of...well...Moira and I..."

Seamus peered out from under his blankets with a tired but amused expression on his face. "Neville's going snogging, aren't you, Neville?" he said, chuckling.

Neville flushed a deep scarlet. "We...we...just never get a chance to be alone," he said in a sudden rush. He turned quickly back to his toiletries.

Dean sighed. Harry was already up and in the shower. But there was no use asking Harry. He'd be out with Parvati. Finally, there was Ron. Dean hesitated in asking anything of Ron at this hour. You would either get a surly grunt, or an incoherent, sleepy grunt. Still, any port in a storm.

"Hey, Ron. Ron!" Dean yelled.

Ron, vaguely recognizing his name in his early morning stupor, turned with a blank look toward Dean. "Whaaa...?"

"Hey, Ron! It's Hogsmeade! Let's go partying tonight!"

Ron shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Whaaa...? Hogsmeade?" He shrugged.

Dean smiled. "Come on, Ron. What do you say? Lets go pubcrawling at Hogsmeade tonight."

Ron blinked a couple times and looked up at Dean. "Hogsmeade? Tonight?"

"Come on, Ron," Dean pleaded with a smile. "Maybe they'll have a tallest couple contest at the Three Broomsticks tonight," he said laughing, being the only student in Gryffindor who was taller than Ron. "And the first round of butterbeers will be on me."

Ron, whole was slowly regaining consciousness from his long night's slumber, shrugged. "I guess. But only if I can't get Hermione to come."

Dean gave give a puzzled look.

Ron stretched and began to rise out of his bed. "Well, I just thought that she could use a night out for some fun. She can't study all of the time."

"Oh, come on, Ron," Dean pleaded. "You don't want to miss the fun."

Ron shrugged and smiled. "I'll get her out of the library if I have to carry her bodily. We'll try to catch up with you."

Harry walked into the dorm room, rubbing a towel over his hair. He glanced up and noticed Ron was awake. "Hey, Ron. I just ran into Lee in the hall. He says that Hermione is in the common room. She wants to ask you something," he said with a lop-sided grin.

Ron became a little more alert. "What? OWLs again?"

Harry chuckled. "He didn't say. But he said she was pacing back and forth real nervous-like and that Parvati and Lavender were sitting in the corner, watching her and giggling. Looks like she waiting to trap you into something ... and maybe not to study."

Ron blinked a couple times. Suddenly, he bolted out of bed and was nearly out the door when he realized he wasn't dressed. He raced back a jumped into a pair of trousers and a jumper and grabbed his robes. As he raced out of the dorm, he glanced back at Dean. "Talk to you later," he blurted out and was gone.

Dean nodded, his disappointment now acute. "Sure, Ron," he said with resignation and hit the showers.

* * *

Dean returned to the Gryffindor Tower after lunch and went directly up to the dorm, rather than hang around in the common room. He suddenly realized how lonely he was. He and Seamus had been a team, best friends like Harry and Ron. But now that Seamus was seeing Lavender, he wasn't around as much as before.

Dean knew he was lucky to have four roommates who were all nice guys and good friends. He also counted himself lucky to be at Hogwarts, where there was little racial prejudice, except among a few of the 'pureblood' crowd who considered blacks and other 'coloureds,' like Parvati and Padma Patil and Cho Chang, as nothing but 'wogs.' But he still felt somewhat apart.

He shook his head at the ease in which Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson moved through the wizarding world. But then, they had grown up in this world and hadn't seen much of the prejudice of the Muggle world. Dean was amazed to see Lee dating Seana McBride and Angelina dating George Weasley without comment. This was not the usual way of the world Dean knew in Muggle London, even if London was better than what he had heard about the States.

He sighed. He had taken Ginny Weasley to the Yule Ball and had fun. He had even kissed her goodnight. But he knew it was a courtesy date as a favor to Ron, who had made life so miserable for Ginny and any of her potential suitors that he practically begged Dean to ask Ginny. Even though Ginny seemed to be comfortable with him, Dean knew he wasn't comfortable with her. Sure she was pretty and vivacious and fun. But she was also white...about as white as you can get.

So nothing came of his date with Ginny, or any of the other girls he had dated here at Hogwarts. His only real date with a black witch, a Hufflepuff a year behind him named Sandy Williams who he brought to last year's Yule Ball, was a disaster. She was friendly but, as far as he was concerned, as dumb as a post and as self-absorbed as Lavender on her worst day. So there was no follow-up on that one date, even though she pestered and yelled at him, creating a scene, shortly after they returned from the Christmas holidays last year. Dean shuddered at the thought.

Maybe that was why he always felt so reserved around people. He felt he needed to burst out, but didn't know how.

So Dean turned to the one thing he loved as much as anything in the world, the one thing he used to fight depression and anger. He opened his trunk and, with a wave of his wand, reinflated his football. He changed into his shorts and jersey, a Manchester United jersey that Seamus had given him as a Christmas present and which, in the spirit of the season, he accepted with a clenched jaw smile. After checking outside, he saw that it was cold and partly cloudy. But the area around the Quidditch pitch was clear of snow and the footing should be decent. Still, he grabbed his cleats to avoid slipping and headed out of the dorm and down to the exit.

* * *

Once Dean walked beyond the shoveled path to the pitch, he gave a silent thanks to the enchanted field. The cushioning spells on the ground on and around the pitch had the benefit of keeping the snow off the ground and tended to warm the air. He tested the ground. There was a thin layer of soil that remained spongy, although deeper down, the earth was frozen.

He did some basic movement and stretching exercises to warm his body as much as his muscles. He was wearing a sweatshirt under his jersey and long bicycle shorts under his football shorts. And he thanked the sports Gods and the sportswear manufacturers for coming up with the high, padded socks football players wore. Still, that left his knees bare and, at just above freezing, the temperature demanded movement from bare skin.

He was playing around, trying to keep the ball in the air with silly hackey-sack moves when he out of the corner of his eye saw someone near the castle's entry portico suddenly dash up the stairs and into the castle. He shook his head. Probably some Quidditch nut running to complain that someone was despoiling their precious pitch with something other than a Quaffle or Bludger. There weren't more than a dozen real football fans in all of Hogwarts, mostly Muggle-born. He enjoyed Quidditch, but couldn't understand the mania so many students, like Ron and Harry, had for the game. Now football on the other hand ...

He dropped the ball and positioned it with his feet. He lined up the goal he imagined on the wall on the side of the Quidditch changing rooms and let go the kick. It curved high and just to the left of his intended target and he raced to retrieve the ball. He tried again, and his kick probably would have hit the post of his imaginary goal. After retrieving the ball. he decided to try for a low shot on right-hand side of the goal. He faked going left and then hit a screamer.

Suddenly, he saw a flash of red and his shot was deflected just wide of his imagined target.

The girl in red did a roll and jumped up, her arms raised in triumph. "...and Hatten blocks the shot, saving the match for Arsenal!!!" she screamed, fist pumping in the air.

Dean blinked in shock. It was Amy Hatten, a fourth year from Ravenclaw. And one of the few students at Hogwarts who was darker than he was.

As she ran happily after the ball, he looked at her. She was dressed in full football attire like him. But, instead of a red Manchester United jersey, she was in a red Arsenal jersey. His thoughts clouded. Arsenal. Hated Arsenal. Suddenly, he shook his head and started to laugh. Amy Hatten was a football fan!

He looked at her again. She was dark with a round face and a broad, pug nose and a wide toothy smile. Not really pretty, but striking when she smiled. Her hair was elaborately done up in dozens of tiny braids, each ending in a bead, that swung around when she turned her head. She was rather tall for her age, and looked fairly well-muscled, particularly in her legs.

She threw the ball back to Dean. "Let's try that again. I'm no goalkeeper, but I suppose I'm enough to stop a shot by a Mancunian, any day," she called out, laughing.

Dean laughed as well. "Arsenal!" he yelled out in a mock snarl. He spit on saying the word and lined up his kick carefully and let go. It was out of Amy's reach but off target.

"You're Amy, right? From Ravenclaw?" Dean called out as she retrieved the ball again.

She nodded, tossing the ball back two-handed to him. It landed directly at his feet so he could quickly stop it and position it with his feet. "And you're Dean from Gryffindor, right?"

Dean nodded, still smiling. On his next shot, he faked right, then left, then hit the ball squarely in the spot she had just vacated.

"All right," she said with a pout. "One-nil. My turn."

Dean and Amy switched back and forth, doing goal kicks or dribbling around each other, or simply hackey sacking it for fun, for nearly an hour. Finally, they collapsed side-by-side on the stone skirting around the wall of the changing rooms and Dean did a simple warming charm around them.

"That was the most fun I've had in a long time," she said with a smile.

Dean turned to her. "I didn't know you were a football fan."

"The biggest. I didn't know you were."

Dean stared at her. "I'm the biggest fan here at Hogwarts, what few there are."

She laughed. "I don't think so...and what are you doing wearing that rag on your back," she said, pointing at his jersey. "Listening to your accent, if you're Mancunian, I'm the Queen of Sheba," she said with a laugh.

Dean shrugged. "It was a gift."

"...from someone with no taste, if I'm any judge," she said with a glint in her eye.

Dean chuckled. "Well, no one ever accused my roommate Seamus of having taste. He knows so little about the Muggle world that he didn't know any better. 'But aren't they the champions?' he asked me."

Both rolled their eyes.

"So where are you from?" she asked.

"London. Muggle London," he replied.

"Me too," she said smiling. That, Dean could tell as soon as she spoke. She wasn't exactly Bow Bells cockney, but had a distinct, working-class London accent. "So. Who's your team...really?"

Dean blushed a little.

"No really, who's your team."

"West Ham," he said in a low voice.

At this point, Amy fell backwards, kicking her legs in the air. I knew it! I knew it! Your a fan of 'The Hammered'."

Dean looked at her in indignation. "They are the Hammers. Not the Hammered," he said hotly.

Amy was in hysterics. "They may be the Hammers going in, but they're usually the Hammered on the way out," she said, laughing and grabbing his arm.

Dean began to sputter, then got an evil glint in his eye. He reached over and began tickling her. She shrieked and tried to wiggle out of his grasp, laughing. Suddenly, Dean felt her reach her arm around his neck and he felt himself tossed over her shoulder, landing on his stomach.

"Ooof," was all he could muster as she jumped on his back, straddling him, and got him in a playful headlock. He felt her poking him in the ribs, trying to find his ticklish spots. He squirmed and finally cried "Uncle!"

"You better watch it, mister," she said laughing. "That tickling bit is the oldest trick in the book. And I know them all."

The two recomposed themselves and sat giggling next to each other. Dean looked at her again. "I didn't know you were this much fun. You always seem to walk around with a forbidding expression on your face. You always seemed so unapproachable."

She gave him an appraising look. "You're Muggle-born, right?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, it's sort of complicated. My dad's from Trinidad in the BWI. He's a Muggle, but he's been around the wizarding world since he was a kid. His great aunt was a sorceress, or claimed to be. I'm not sure it she was a true witch, but I guess he was familiar wizarding world. But my mum is a Bruja."

Amy's eyes got wide. "Wow. That's a whole different world. A lot darker than this place."

Dean nodded. "She's got powers, but was never formally trained. Instead, she apprenticed to her grandmother, who was a gran Bruja. You should see her whenever I get new school books. She's after them quicker than Hermione..."

Amy grunted. "She's the one I always see in the library, right? The library's house ghost?"

Dean nodded.

Amy nodded as well. "So, your parents ended up in London."

Dean nodded again. "Trinidad is beautiful, but my dad was ambitious, so London it was."

"What does he do?" she asked.

"Well, my mom operates a botanica in London. It caters to the Muggle trade. Of course the coppers are always watching us because so many herbal shops trade in illegal drugs. But we're clean," he said defensively. "And my dad manages the operation."

Amy nodded. "So you're used to all this."

Dean shook his head. "I knew of the wizarding world and had met wizards and witches. But like you said, I'm from a whole different world than this place. I'm basically Muggle-born and raised, with a little Santaria, a little of the dark stuff, thrown in. So Hogwarts was a new experience for me. But fortunately, my best friend Seamus was in a similar position, living in a half-and-half world--although he was much more familiar with the formal wizarding world than I was--so we got on from the start."

Amy shook her head. "Not like me. Not like me, at all." She sighed. "I don't like it here," she said in a quiet voice.

Dean started and looked at her. "You don't?"

"Gawah, no," she said ruefully. "Look, I'm a Muggle, through-and-through. My dad is a dock worker. I was raised a Muggle. I just had powers. Really strong powers, from what I remember. I used to explode plumbing when I got mad. The ministry's accidental magic goon squad were always coming around. The Muggles never knew. They thought it was just old pipes, but I knew better. God help anyone around me when I had a temper tantrum," she said with a sad smile.

"So I ended up here. Professor Sprout practically moved in with my family the summer before my first year, trying to explain what I was, what Hogwarts was, and how I needed to come here. But I didn't want to go. I missed my friends, my music, the tele, all that stuff. And football," she said, nudging Dean.

Dean chuckled. "One of these days I'm going to convince Seamus to take up football, instead of Quidditch."

She nodded with a small smile. "But I think I'd rather be in a Muggle school, in the Muggle world," she said with a smile. "Do you ever get the impression that this place is hopelessly perilous, while being hopelessly naive."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, puzzled.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Look. You got Voldemort, right? He was powerful. But there are lots of powerful wizards out there. I'm surprised there aren't more Voldemorts out there, that more don't go around the bend and play God, or at least find ways to help themselves to half the gold in Gringotts."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "Maybe in the Muggle world they'd try it. But here, they aren't so forgiving," he said with a smile. "Here you got Azkaban. Man, I've seen those dementors...felt them too. And Harry's seen them close up. Nothing scares Harry. But he nearly wets himself whenever we mention it. That's probably what keeps most people from trying anything. At least those who aren't purebloods with all their money and connections and legal protections that keep them above the law."

Amy turned to Dean. "Well, what about naive, then? Just look around you. I mean, really. Robes? Robes as part of the uniform is bad enough. But on grownups? And Voldemort? Just say it around these people and it's like you just peed on the rug. I mean, it's just a name, right? And don't get me started on sex."

Dean blushed. "What about sex?" he said with a croak.

Amy shook her head in a resigned manner. "Look at what your friends Harry and Parvati went through after that whole Voldemort thing. Hey, they're two 15-year-old kids, and what they do? They nearly top the baddest bug on the planet, not to mention four of his beastie boys, and what happens? Half the news stories about them are all in a state about whether they were doing the nasty in front of the poor bloody unicorns! It's like they invented a whole new Dark Art!"

Amy took a deep breath. "Heck, if they wanted to go out into the Forbidden Forest for a quick shag, it isn't anyone's business but theirs, right? As long as they're not stupid and she gets herself pregnant. Hell, I got an owl from my parents a couple months ago passing along messages from my girls in the Muggle world. Just about all of them are doing it. Hell, two of my classmates from Muggle school before I came here are pregnant. And they're my age! And I just turned 15! Yet here, people make it sound like Harry and Parvati are the first ones that ever did the deed. I'm surprised that the girls here aren't required to wear Poodle Skirts as part of their uniform."

Dean laughed. "Look, Harry and Parvati weren't shagging then. He told me that story in Witch Weekly about Parvati and the unicorn was true, and he doesn't lie about things like that. Of course, he doesn't talk about the issue any more. Says it's a private matter. So you know they got to be shagging now," he said with a laugh.

Amy sunk down a little lower against the changing room wall. "Of course, there's hardly anyone here I would want to shag. Lee Jordan might be nice for a roll, but, for all his humor, he's so straight it makes my hair hurt," she said, shaking her head.

Dean leaned back against the wall, as well. "I don't know. I've been thinking along those same lines, too. I mean, I dated Sandy Williams once, but she was a disaster," he said with a sad chuckle.

Amy snorted. "Sandy Johnson. The African Queen."

Dean chuckled.

Amy leaned over against Dean. "I just wish things where were a little more like at home. A little looser. A little more fun."

Dean looked at Amy, who was wearing a small pout. He took a deep breath and put his arm around her shoulder. "Well, if it's fun you want, why not come to Hogsmeade with me tonight? It's not clubbing in London, but it's not Hogwarts, either."

She turned to him. "Sounds like a plan to me."

They smiled at each other. It was a good plan.

"Now let's get the hell out of here," she said quickly. "My bum's freezing."

Dean laughed as he and Amy walked with their arms around each others' waists back to the castle.

It was one of those rare days when both Arsenal and West Ham won.

* * *

Harry climbed up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower with a weary but resigned tread. Why hadn't he taken the opportunity to drop Divination as a course when he had the chance? Professor Trelawney had not improved at all in the two and half years she'd been teaching him and he'd learned next to nothing in the course.

'Check that,' he thought. 'I've learned to sleep with by eyes open.' A useful skill, if only in Divination class. He sighed and began to mount the circular stairs leading to Professor Trelawney's classroom, with Ron on his heels.

The classroom was too warm, as it always was, and the haze from the incense was a cloying as ever. He felt his eyes beginning to droop already, and Trelawney had yet to make her presence known to the class. Probably trying to pull the last few bracelets and bangles on to preserve her not-very-mysterious aura of mystery. At his and Ron's table, he could see a pair of crystal balls.

"Oh, grand," he said as he turned to Ron. "Didn't we go over this last term? And the term before? And the term before? And the term before that?"

Ron sat down with a resigned look on his face.

Harry, however, became thoughtful. He turned to Ron. "You know, Parvati says we've probably been doing it all wrong," he said. "You don't look into the ball. You have to unfocus your eyes. Then you have to empty your mind of all conscious thought ... "

"That shouldn't be too hard for Parvati," Ron said, snickering.

Harry's head jerked up. "Hey," he said hotly. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about." Then his eyes got their own evil glint. "And what was your class rank last term?" he whispered, knowing that Parvati's was higher than Ron's.

Ron snorted. "Sure, bring that up," he said with a quiet hiss. "She does well in this class and it brings her whole class rank up," he said with a roll of his eyes.

Harry snickered. "Good thing you have Hermione to do all the thinking for the two of you. Lately, there are some days I don't think you could find your bum with both hands."

Ron blushed. "I don't mind," he said quietly. "I told you we cuddled in the common room after she asked me to come to Hogsmeade with her."

Harry nodded.

Ron sighed. "Not exactly a snog session, but it was nice just to sit there and hold her. She says she likes hugging. She's warm to hold."

Harry sighed, then got an evil look in his eyes. "I guess she's got to study up on snogging first. I thought I saw her check out a book on it from the library."

Ron turned to look at Harry in shock.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I think it was 'Snogging for Idiots' by Snaggletooth Slobberforth," he said with a laugh.

The two of them were still chuckling when Trelawney strode silently through the haze of incense.

"Students. Students! I feel a particularly strong vibration in the room. I think we are going to have a very good class today."

Trelawney was holding her hands together against her chest with a beatific smile on her face, apparently not hearing or choosing to ignore Seamus's comment about someone having brass, rather than crystal balls.

"As you can see before you, we have our old friend, the crystal ball," Trelawney continued. "But these are not just any crystal balls. They come directly from the bewitching shop. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

Lavender was the first to respond. "Oooh, Professor Trelawney, does that mean they are totally uncalibrated? That we will be the first seers to imprint on them?"

Trelawney smiled fondly at Lavender and Parvati, her two favorite students. "That's right, Miss Brown. Five points for Gryffindor." Lavender blushed furiously with pleasure.

"Now students, you must take great care in using these crystals. Do not touch them with your hands. They are at a very sensitive stage. They are reaching out to your thoughts, anxious for the first touch of your mind like a young lover seeks the first touch of her beloved."

Several of the boys in the class choked back giggles. Neville's face turned a bright pink. Lavender and Parvati, along with several other of the girls, stared daggers at the boys.

Trelawney, noticing the commotion, frowned. "Now students, please. You don't want to disturb the vibrations in the aether. It will only fog your inner eye and may affect the use of the crystals for future seers."

Satisfied that the boys in the class had returned to their torpor, Trelawney resumed. "Remember, please. With an uncalibrated crystal, you are not looking for anything in particular. No searching for your immortal beloved, no seeking for fortune or fame, no attempts to determine your destiny. You just have to open your mind and let the visions flow."

"So how are we going to meet our doom this time, Ron," Harry whispered

"I don't know, Harry. Maybe we will open our minds and catch pneumonia from the draft of all those visions flowing in," Ron said with a silent chuckle.

Trelawney took a deep breath. "Now class, let's begin. Remember. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Relax and let the inner eye breathe. Breathe in, breathe out. Let the inner eye take over your senses ... "

Harry began to worry that the only thing his inner eye would see was the inside of his eyelids, which were beginning to droop. He opened them with a start and peered into the crystal. He made an internal shrug. All he saw was the white incense smoke in the air and the powder blue of the cloth on the table, with the reflections reversed by the sphere. It made him think of a boiling ocean under a clear blue sky. Maybe that was how divination worked, he thought. Seeing the obvious and putting some sort of weird interpretation on it. Water. The sea. The waves crashing. Drowning. 'Well,' he thought, 'at least I've got a new way to meet my doom. Death by surfing.' He held back a chuckle.

"Mister Thomas, do you see anything?" Trelawney asked.

"Uh ... Professor Trelawney, I see an upside down spider," Dean said with mock solemnity.

Trelawney frowned and walked over to the desk Dean and Seamus shared. Looking over Dean's shoulder, she shook her head. "Oh, for goodness sake," she said, and reached around the globe to flick the spider off the table. "Mister Thomas, I thought you would do better than that."

She turned and walked back to the front of the class and looked vaguely around the room. Then her eyes lit on Lavender and Parvati. "Anything ladies?"

Lavender bit her lip and concentrated. Parvati, however, frowned. "I think I see something, Madam, but I don't understand it."

Madam Trelawney pursed her lips. "What do you see, my dear?" she asked in a breathy voice.

Parvati frowned some more, this time in puzzlement. "I don't know. Like pointy things crossed, like arrows."

Madam Trelawney's eyes widened. "Are the arrow shafts straight or curved?"

Parvati's tongue was now worrying the side of her mouth as she peered into the glass. "One seems pretty straight, but the other is wavy," she said quietly.

Trelawney suddenly stood up straight and closed her eyes in concentration. "And the color?"

Parvati's head was now moving around to see if she could get a better view. "They're both black," she whispered.

Madam Trelawney sighed. "Black is the color of foreboding. The straight arrow is Sagittarius. The wavy Arrow is Scorpio. It means you can expect something bad or a change for the worse in late November," she said with a sympathetic look.

Parvati looked up at her favorite professor in consternation. "Something terrible is going to happen?"

"Are the symbols large?"

Parvati shook her head. "No, quite small."

Trelawney frowned. "There was nothing else, dear?"

Parvati peered back into the crystal. Then she shook her head. "It's gone."

Trelawney pursed her lips again. "An unpleasant change. Perhaps not horrible. But unpleasant for you."

Parvati reached out and grasped Lavender's hand and stared at her best friend in fear. She paused as if in thought. Then she blinked. "Less than nine months to prepare ... " Then she gasped.

But Trelawney had already begun to look around the rest of the room. "Mister Potter, what ... ." She stopped in mid-sentence and shifted her gaze to Ron. She cocked her head to the side a little and walked quietly toward Ron and Harry's table. "Mister ... Weasley ... ?" she inquired gently.

Harry turned to his best friend and saw the strangest look he had ever seen on Ron. Ron was staring without blinking at the crystal with a look of awe, bemusement and delight on his face.

"Ron," Harry whispered softly with some concern. "Are you okay?"

Trelawney had reached their table and was peering into Ron's face. She then walked behind him in an effort to see what he was seeing, but pursued her lips in frustration.

Ron had still not blinked and his expression had not changed.

Harry was beginning to worry. He wanted to reach out and shake his friend. What if some evil power had ensnared Ron's mind, Harry thought in a panic. He looked up in desperation at Trelawney, who was now squatting next to Ron to watch his face intently.

Suddenly, Ron blinked, then blinked again. "No ... please don't go ... not yet," he said in a distant voice. He blinked a couple more times and then shook his head and realized where he was. He jumped when he turned to see Trelawney's face not three inches from his own. An equally surprised Trelawney tumbled backward on her bum.

Continuing to blink furiously, Ron settled down. Then he looked up at Trelawney, who had gotten up but, rather than looking angry or embarrassed, had a rapturous look on her face. "What does it mean, Professor?" he said softly. "Did I just see my future?"

"What you must have seen is one possible future," she said to Ron fondly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Even the crystal cannot guarantee what will be. But you have been given a gift, a glimpse of what might be."

Now Trelawney looked closely and Ron, no longer able to contain her curiosity. "Tell me, Mister Weasley, what did you see?" she asked gently.

Ron looked forward, his eyes unfocused. Barely audible, with a voice like in a dream, he spoke. "I saw myself. And I ... and I ... "

"Yes," Trelawney whispered urgently.

" ... and I was surrounded by seven beautiful girls ... "

Dean suddenly burst out in a loud guffaw. Seamus began chuckling. The class descended into chaos, with catcalls from the boys and angry retorts from the girls flying back and forth.

"Were they hula girls?" came one comment.

"Shut up, Ernie."

"No centerfolds from Gentleman Wizard magazine?"

"Seamus, you are so insensitive."

"Only Ron could have a wet dream in a crystal ball."

"Oh, ick."

Trelawney flushed, a furious look on her face. "All right, Mister Weasley. Who were these seven beautiful women. And this better be good."

Ron, still staring unseeing ahead of him, spoke again. " ... no, seven daughters ... "

Trelawney's face took on a look of horror. "Oh no, Mister Weasley. The Seven Daughters of Devonian Despair! A horrible omen. Oh, Mister Weasley, I am so sorry."

Ron seemed to come out of his trance and looked up at Trelawney. After staring at her for several seconds, he blinked a couple times, and looked back at the crystal in shock. "No, professor. The seven daughters of Ronald Weasley," he said quietly.

* * *

The uproar in the classroom was such that Trelawney sent everyone except Ron away early.

Harry spent the next half hour in the common room waiting for Ron. Lavender kept peeking down from the girls' dorm, where she and an uncharacteristically fretful and distant Parvati had gone after the class. Seamus and Dean were keeping up a nonstop patter about the class and Ron's virility. Neville simply sat in the corner, looking puzzled.

Ron finally came through the opening and looked around cautiously. Harry grabbed him and walked him quickly up to the dorm and did a simple locking charm on the door to keep Dean and Seamus from teasing Ron.

"What did Trelawney say?"

Ron sat down on his bed and glanced up anxiously. "Well she asked about the vision. I told her as much as I could remember. Then she kissed me on the forehead, telling me it was one of the most vivid visions any of her students had every experienced. But she warned me that not every vision was cast in stone. She told me that this was just one possible future. That this was what divination was all about. To see a possible future and either reach out for it, or take steps to avoid it."

Harry smiled fondly at his friend, grabbing his shoulder. "I take it from the look on your face while you were experiencing the vision that this isn't one of the futures you want to avoid."

Ron shifted uncomfortably and turned to Harry with a funny smile and shrugged. "Maybe not. It was pretty nice."

"You want to talk about it?" Harry asked.

Ron played with the end of one of his blankets. "I don't know."

Harry leaned back in Ron's bed and waited.

Ron took nearly a minute to break the silence. "At first, I didn't see anything. Then there were a series of blurry objects. The first thing I recognized was me. It wasn't me like I am now. I was older, maybe my brother Bill's age. No, maybe a little older. I was sitting on a bench in my back yard. I don't know how it was my back yard, but it was. And I could see a nice house on a hill behind me. And I was laughing."

Ron paused and took a deep breath. "I was sitting with my arm around a woman I know was my wife ... "

Ron stopped, a small frown on his face.

"Was it Hermione?" Harry asked quietly.

"That wasn't clear," Ron said with an upset look on his face. "I couldn't see her face ... " he said quietly, then paused uncomfortably. "She was holding my arm, and then she whispered something to me, and I blushed and kissed her."

Ron sighed. "She was holding a young girl, maybe two years old on her lap. And I had another daughter, maybe four years old, with bright red hair, who was dozing with her head pillowed on my thigh. I was absently stroking her hair. And we had a picnic blanket spread out. Two young darker-haired girls with curls were busily eating something. And a older girl, a teenager, with red hair was scolding two others who looked to be about ten with long ... uh ... dark hair who were squabbling."

Ron sighed and shivered a little. "Somehow, I knew that they were all mine, these were my daughters. This was my family. And we were so happy. It was like my happiest memories when I was a kid, except we were mostly boys."

Suddenly, Ron turned to Harry. "Oh, Harry, it was so nice, but now it's so scary. Does that me I'm predestined to marry this woman? What if that was the only happy moment in our lives together? Don't I have any choice in the matter? I don't know what to do." At that, tears began to form in Ron's eyes as he looked pleadingly at Harry.

Harry leaned over and squeezed his shoulder. "Ron, you heard what Trelawney said. This is one of many possible futures. Or it could be someone you fantasized about and you kind of projected the happiest possible future you could imagine to include her. You don't know, Ron. Why not just enjoy the present and let the future take care of itself?"

Ron sniffed and stared down at his shoes. "I don't know," and he let out a long sigh.

Harry started laughing. "Well, when you first said that you were surrounded in your vision by seven beautiful girls, I glanced around. You should have seen the faces on some of the girls. They looked ready to kill you." Ron gave his friend a crooked smile. "If they were seven beautiful women ... " he started to say. Then he frowned.

Finally, Ron sighed. "You know, I think I need some time alone to think about this. I've never had something like this happen before." He then shrugged.

Harry smiled and patted him on the back. "Sure." Harry began to walk out, then turned thoughtfully. "Not Hermione?"

Ron simply shook his head. "I don't know," he said quietly, avoiding Harry's gaze.

Harry frowned and shrugged, exiting the dorm.

Once he knew he was alone, Ron lowered his head. "No, not Hermione," he said quietly to himself.

No, he thought he recognized the woman he saw as his loving wife, the mother of the children in his vision. She was taller than Hermione. She had long, dark hair worn in a braid. She was beautiful, even if she had put on a few pounds over the years.

He felt a tear forming in one of his eyes.

And she belonged to his best friend.

And Ron vowed he would never betray his friend, no matter how beautiful the vision.

* * *

Harry was a bit out of sorts. Parvati was unaccountably distant and seemed upset for the past few days, and seemed even a bit surly earlier today. She had confessed a couple months ago that she did, on occasion, get a little depressed, depending on her time of the month. That was one of the reasons for her infamous Egyptian blowup. She was having a PMS moment and decided to do something outrageous to pull herself out of her funk. And Harry's reaction led to their very public blowup and very private makeup.

Harry had blushed furiously, not being used to girls talking so openly about such personal matters. Parvati gave him a swat and pouted. "And sleeping with me is somehow less personal?" she replied with a smirk.

So Harry figured that Parvati's current mood was somehow related to her monthly cycle. He sighed, quietly. 'It's another fact of life,' he thought. He recognized that this was all part of being in love--being understanding when she needed her space or when she wasn't her normal high-spirited self.

So he was quite unprepared when, after their last class, she roughly grabbed him and nearly dragged him into an empty classroom. He turned to her with a half smile, not quite knowing what to expect but hoping for an impromptu snogging session. As soon as he saw her face, he knew that was out of the question. She looked terrified.

"PeeVee, what's wrong," he said, holding his arms out to embrace her. But she backed away and sat down, despondently.

"Harry, you better sit down."

He began to get frightened. 'What could be wrong? Was she sick?' he thought in a panic. He sat. "What is it?"

She looked down, her color rising. "I'm late."

Harry blinked several times. "I...I don't know what you mean," he stammered. And he didn't.

Parvati slowly looked up into his eyes. She then realized that he wasn't being purposefully obtuse. He really didn't understand.

She took a deep breath, as tears began to form. "My period. I'm late. I...I might be pregnant."

Harry felt a cold chill run down his spine. He tried to form words, but they wouldn't come. All he felt was fear. How could this happen? Then he looked at Parvati. 'If I'm frightened, think of what she is feeling. And she's the girl I love,' he thought.

Suddenly, without conscious thought, he moved to her and took her in his arms. "Don't worry. I'm here. I'm not going to leave you. We'll get married. I've got some gold in Gringotts. We'll be all right. I love you," he babbled.

Harry wasn't even aware of what he had said. He was busy trying to figure out how he would support her and the baby. He would get a job, somehow. He was famous. Maybe he could use that fame to earn a living somehow. He would do anything for Parvati. And he would do anything to make sure the baby grew up in a loving environment.

Parvati was crying in his arms. "Please don't hate me," she said in a small, choking voice.

He stroked her hair. "I don't hate you. I love you. I always dreamed about marrying and having children. Maybe not so soon, but some day," he said in a distracted voice.

Parvati looked up at him through tearful eyes. "You did?" she said in whisper.

Harry looked at her again and nodded. "All I've ever wanted was to have a wife and children... a happy family. A normal family. Not just pretending to be normal. A normal life. Maybe not soon, but eventually."

Parvati leaned up against him in silence for a couple minutes. "You really do love me, then."

Harry started and pushed her to arms length to stare into her eyes. "Of course I love you. How could you ever think otherwise?"

She pulled him against her again. She gave a dry chuckle through her sniffles. "You never asked about losing it. Or about the potions and the charms. Or about...I don't know."

Harry blinked through his own tears. "I never even thought about that. I thought...well, I don't know what I thought. But I figured that I want to be a father someday. And I've tried to think about how to be a good father, to give my children everything I never had when I was young. Not stuff. Just love. And hugs. Lots of hugs. And someone to talk to. And someone they will know who will always be there for them."

Harry was breathing heavily now, choking back his own tears. "Before Voldemort and the Forbidden Forest, I never thought about those things much. I just thought about how I would be different from my aunt and uncle. But I never thought I'd get the chance. That I'd end up dead before I ever got the chance. But since then...since you...I've thought about it a lot. And I thought some day...you and I...how happy..." He began to sob.

Parvati suddenly found herself comforting Harry. She knew it was going to be all right. It wouldn't be easy. But it would be all right.

* * *

Harry lay in bed, lost in thought. What would they do? What would he do?

He and Parvati had simply grabbed a little food at supper and left with it. They ate out on the landing in front of the castle's entrance. The warming charm managed to keep the chill away. Then they walked in silence, their arms around each other, around the perimeter of the castle under torchlight, anxious about what was to come. When it finally became too cold, they returned to the castle and found an out-of-the-way place to simply sit side-by-side.

Finally, Harry spoke. "Once we're sure, we can ask McGonagall what our options are. Whether there are any schools that can accept married students. I don't want you to miss out on your education. Maybe I can find a job or something. I know I've got enough money in Gringotts to give us a start, maybe even pay for your schooling. Don't worry. We'll do just fine."

Parvati looked up at him. "What about you, Harry? What about your schooling? We could be married and I could stay with my parents until you're through here at Hogwarts. Then we could figure out what to do."

Harry shook his head. "No. I want to be with you. I don't want to be apart from you. Or from our child. I want him...or her...to know its father. I want to be there, to help you."

Parvati signed and leaned against him. "Once we know for sure, I'll...we'll talk to everybody...I mean the professors and our...my parents. And the Strowbridges. We'll figure out the best way." She heaved a sigh. She was terrified of what the future would hold for them. But at least now she would face those terrors with someone she loved and trusted.

* * *

It had taken Harry a long time to get to sleep. So he was startled when a hand gripped him across the mouth. He jumped and almost hit his head against Parvati's. She was looking at him wide-eyed. She motioned him to follow her out to the common room.

He followed her quietly, not knowing what to expect. She sat down on their favorite couch in front of the main fireplace. As he sat down beside her, she turned to embrace him.

"It was a false alarm," she whispered, suddenly crying quietly in his arms.

Harry's mind began spinning. "No baby?" he whispered.

She shook her head as she buried her face in his chest.

Harry let out a big sigh. Then he nodded. "It's for the best, sweetheart."

Parvati looked up at him and gave a weak chuckle. "I should think so," she said, blinking away her tears.

Harry smiled down at her. "Still, it gave me a warm feeling to think of you and I together, raising a child."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean all you told me...it wasn't just to make me feel better?"

Harry tilted his head. "Well...yeah. I didn't want you to be pregnant. Not while we're at Hogwarts. But it made me think...you know, like bringing everything I'd imagined over the past few months into focus. Now I kind of know what I want."

"What's that," she said with a smile.

"A family," he said quietly.

Parvati lay her head against his chest, giggling softly. He stroked her hair. "Really, did you mean what you said to me this afternoon?"

Harry nodded absently. "Yeah, I meant it. We're still more than two years away from graduation, so I don't want it until then. But yes, I meant it."

Parvati sighed. "I love you. You know that."

Harry nodded. "Yes, I know that. But it's always nice to hear it. And I love you."

It was nice to hear. It was nice to tell someone. But Harry worried. Did he really know what love was?

Parvati slept soundly that night, for the first time since Madame Pomfrey gave her the new dose of the contraceptive potion.

A worried Harry slept less soundly.