An Unlikely Coven

*

"I can't believe this."

Linda Potter, Bobby Weasley, and Joey Malfoy- just a few hours ago, Patrickson, Waltham, and Manchester- were lying in the backyard of 27 Carlton Boulevard, talking about that evening's events. The wizarding community's newest members were planning on sleeping in Linda's old, battered camping tent that night. None of them wanted to admit it, but they still wanted to believe that their lives were the same as they were before. The tent was a hallmark of their childhood, their previous life.

"Do you really think that we're, you know, wizards?" Bobby looked at his two best friends.

"I don't know," Joey said, slowly. "I don't think that Mom and Dad and everyone could have made all that stuff up."

"I don't think anyone could have made that up. But really, is it possible?" Bobby rolled over onto his back, staring at the stars. "Linda, you're the intelligent one. What do you think?"

Linda, too, looked up at the sky. "It's an awfully convincing argument. And I don't think anything could simulate the sparks Ma shot out of that magic wand. But really, think about it. If we're supposed to be the most powerful- what did they call it? Oh, yeah- coven in the world, why haven't we done anything extraordinary?"

Joey joined his friends in staring at the heavens. "Yeah. Really, if we're able to defeat the most powerful sorcerer on Earth without too much trouble, then why aren't we terrorizing our worst enemies with threats of turning them into toads or something? Come to think of it," he said thoughtfully, "I don't know how to turn anything into anything."

"None of do, smarty," said Bobby. "In case you've forgotten, it's not like we're trained like our parents. We're total amateurs at this stuff, even if that weird prophecy is right."

"If we were able to do anything, don't you think that I'd have turned Felicia Sanchez's perfectly permed hair green by now?"

Linda sat up. "Do ya think.....maybe, if we all concentrate hard enough, something will happen?"

"How can it? We don't even have magic wands!" Joey rolled his eyes. "Can we do stuff without wands?"

"Let's see." Bobby sat up next to Linda. "Maybe, if we all put our hands together....." Linda pulled Joey off the ground, and the three formed a triangle. They all pressed the palms of their hands together, shaking a bit as they did so.

"Well, nothing's happening," muttered Bobby.

"We haven't decided on anything, stupid," snarled Joey. "I think we have to concentrate on something for anything to happen."

"Well, what do we want?" Linda looked at her fellow wizards. "How about a shooting star?"

"Rubbish," muttered Joey. "Stars don't shoot by themselves."

"And that piece of wood Linda's mom pulled out of her purse just decided to shoot off sparks? I say we try it." Bobby lifted his eyes toward the sky. Linda and Joey followed suit.

All three concentrated on making a star shoot across the sky. For about five minutes, nothing happened. Then.....

"Look!" Linda whispered. Over in the north part of the sky, near Polaris, a silvery streak was forming in the inky blackness.

"Don't stop thinking now! Let's keep going!" Joey said excitedly. Soon, the heavens were host to a spectacular show of light. Silver streaks, green blobs, crimson specks, electric blue flashes, and even a few purple whorls flew overhead.

Bobby was grinning from ear to ear, sending silver streaks across the sky. Joey delighted in making the colors collide, creating dazzling splashes. Linda, always practical, just set her mind to the task at hand, concentrated on keeping the light show coming.

The three wizards that the magical community had been waiting for had finally arrived, and were making a scene just for themselves.

Unbeknownst to them, however, someone else was watching.

"Would you look at that. Not even wizards for three hours, and already giving the astronomers a headache." Hermione Potter walked over to the back window of the house. "It's a shame they're not at Hogwarts....."

Her husband walked over. "In case you're forgetting, they've been magical since birth. They just never knew it. But we could tell."

"How else to explain Linda's report cards?" Hermione turned to look at the wall, which displayed the final-semester report from Linda's freshman year. "This pupil is destined for greatness," read the comment written by her homeroom teacher.

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist. "She's intelligent. They all are. God, I just hope that they know what to do with these.....powers. Maybe it's actually a blessing that they grew up as Muggles."

"Yes.....can you imagine what it would have been like with those three, surrounded by all that magic, all that influence? They'd have gotten a tad bigheaded, knowing that they were so powerful, at such a young age," Hermione said thoughtfully. She looked back out the window. Joey had just made one of the silver streaks skywrite something obscene, and Linda had broken her concentration to whap him. Bobby now looked helpless, trying to keep the colors going by himself. Finally, they all rejoined hands, and the sky was once again ablaze with color.

"Can you remember, being that young? That carefree?" she asked, as they walked down the hallway to the bedroom.

Harry yawned. "Ask me later. Right now, I'm too tired to remember much of anything. It's been a long day. Do you have any idea how shocked I was when, after about fifteen years of not seeing any, I had an owl fly in through my window, with a message from Dumbledore? Nearly gave Mr. Weeks a heart attack. Almost didn't close the contract."

"What exactly did Dumbledore have to say?" Hermione asked, as they got ready for bed.

"Here." Harry tossed her a piece of parchment as he took off his glasses. Hermione unrolled it; how odd it felt, after so many years! It read:

To: Messrs. Jim Patrickson, Roger Waltham, Dave Manchester

From: Al Dumas

Hermione tapped it with her wand, and muttered the revealing spell for Albus's special type of Invisible Ink. Words were spun across the page in an ornate script, not unlike a spiderweb.

Dear Harry, Ron, and Draco:

I have addressed this to your Muggle names, and relegated it to my code name, in case this letter is intercepted. I surely hope not. How have you been lately? It's been a while since we've communicated. Fifteen years, in fact. I do remember- it was the children's birthday, and the parchment was covered in icing.

Unfortunately, I write not with joyful news, but with regret. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Colin Creevey, better known as the Dark Lord Nilock, has learned of Linda, Robert, and Joseph's existence. Do not panic; he knows nothing of your location. However, he also knows of the prophecy that could save us all- or destroy the wizarding world. He realizes that one simple charm from Linda could wound him substantially, and that the full force of the coven of three could not only kill him, but his supporters as well. It may even be able to destroy the Dark Arts.

You MUST inform the children of their abilities. Nilock has decided that he must strike while they are still untrained- he realizes this, as they are not enrolled at Hogwarts. I believe that, right now, Linda, Robert, and Joseph are the only ones able to destroy Nilock- with a little hope from you two, Harry and Hermione. Please- train them, and keep me informed of your progress. I wish you luck.

Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore

Hermione sat down at the edge of the bed. "Good God," she said, "just what does Albus expect them to be able to do?"

Harry sat down next to her. "To be perfectly frank, Herm, I think he expects them to learn five years of sorcery in about.....oh, I'd say five days."

"And then go and defeat the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world with little or no effort. Sure, I feel safe letting my fifteen-year-old daughter and her friends do that every day of the week," Hermione said sarcastically. "No problem! Okay, honey, you be careful! Remember to eat your vegetables!"

"It's not exactly like that," Harry said reasonably. "Well, to a certain degree, it is, but they aren't average wizards." He yawned again as he settle back into the pillows. "We aren't sending them alone. We'll be there every step of the way."

"I suppose you're right," Hermione relented, as she too rested her head on the pillows. "They aren't your average teenage wizards, are they?"

"No, they certainly aren't," Harry agreed as he turned off the light.

Harry fell asleep almost immediately, but that wasn't an option for Hermione. Why does he get to sleep? she wondered enviably, as she felt his chest rise and fall in an even pattern against her back. Why does he get to put all the worries aside, and rest for what lies ahead? Survival, I guess, she reasoned, all those years of living in fear of Voldemort trained him to sleep no matter what he's thinking. All those years.....

How many times have we wound up like this? I, scared and confused, am unable to sleep for fear of what's going to happen, and he, although the center of it all, can just go out like a light?

Countless times, ever since Linda was born, and we first learned of the prophecy. That damned prophecy! I suppose it's all for the best, really, the kids being able to bring down Nilock. But I'll bet the person who wrote it so many years ago didn't think of how I would feel. I, the wife of the hero of the wizarding world, and the mother of the second generation. No one knows what this is like. Maybe Lily. But she's not here to help me, unfortunately.

Twenty years ago, trying to act brave while my future husband did battle with one Dark Lord. Now, trying to do the same while my daughter has to take on another. Why me? I'm powerful, but I don't have anywhere near the magnitude of the powers my husband, and now my daughter, possess. Why must the ones I love most be brought so close to danger?

Oh, yeah. That damned prophecy. They have to save the world.

But can't they do that from Carlton Boulevard?

No, I suppose they can't. But, God, why does it have to be Harry and Linda? Why can't it be anyone else?

Well.....I guess I'd have a completely different daughter. I wouldn't have Linda.

She snuggled closer to the sleeping form beside her, and felt his arms slide around her protectively.

And I'd be in love with someone else.

Where have I heard that before?

Oh, yeah.....I remember that.....funny, the situation I was in then and the situation I'm in now are strikingly similar. I remember it all.....

"Hermione, are you planning on waking up anytime soon?"

Seventeen year-old Hermione Granger raised her eyelids a bit. "Maybe, Lavender. What time is it?"

"Almost seven o' clock. You know, I thought that the Head Girl was the one who was supposed to wake up the juvenile delinquent, not the other way around."

Hermione rolled over, and was greeted by the familiar sight of Lavender Brown and her deliberately frayed robes, chunky jewelry, and hard-edge makeup. "You're not a juvenile delinquent. That honor goes to your infamous ex-boyfriend.....besides, classes don't start for another hour. What's the rush?"

"Hang on, I have to pinch myself and make sure that I'm not imagining this." Lavender gripped a piece of skin from the underside of her forearm with two long, blood-red nails. "Ouch! So, I'm not just imagining that Hermione Granger, Head Girl, Ye Olde Perfect Student, just said what I thought she said?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nothing. I've just decided that, after seven years of being anal-retentively organized and high-strung beyond all comprehension, I need to loosen up."

"Bull," Lavender responded. "You've just decided, my arse! It's that Harry Potter boy, isn't it? I knew something was going on between you two....." she said in a singsong voice.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Listen, Lavender, there's nothing going on between me and Harry, we both know that. No matter how much I wish there was, there's nothing. So can we please drop the subject?" Hermione pulled herself out from the canopy on the bed, and walked to the bathroom to take a shower.

"I don't know why you're so hard on yourself, Herm," Lavender called through the shower curtain. "Maybe if you'd pull your nose out of those gigantic books for a few moments, you'd be able to see that the boy really has gone sweet on you."

"Lavender, I've liked him for the last seven years, and nothing has ever come of it," Hermione called back. "It hasn't happened before, why should it happen now?"

"Oh, please. For someone with such great marks, you're so dense sometimes." Lavender applied another coat of mascara. "I was talking to Ron-"

"What a surprise," Hermione muttered.

"I heard that! Keep your mouth shut- would you rather have me date Seamus again? Anyway, he said that Harry does the exact same thing to him that you're doing to me now."

Hermione poked her head out from behind the shower curtain. "What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded, shampoo dripping down her face.

"Driving him crazy, that's what. Ron says that Harry likes you, but he's afraid that you don't like him back."

"Yeah, sure. Okay. Listen, Lavender, I've been friends with Ron for as long as I've been friends with Harry, and he'd probably say anything just to cheer me up. You two," Hermione said, shutting off the water, "are probably involved in some elaborate scheme to cheer me up."

"It's the honest to God truth, Herm!" Lavender called as she left the bathroom.

What if Ron's telling the truth? she wondered, as she dried her hair. What if Harry really does like me? And I just haven't noticed? She frowned as one piece turned out the wrong way, and set about to fixing it. Nah. Impossible! Why would he, someone so popular and likable, ever fall for me? I'm so bookish, and snappish.....

Well, I have been friends with him for an awfully long time, she thought, as she set to work on her robes. So? I've been friends with Ron for the same amount of time, and God knows I never felt anything towards him. But I guess with Harry, it's different. Somehow, it always is. And not just because every time I get the nerve to tell him the way I feel, he has to go gallivanting off to save the world from some unspeakable evil.

Maybe I'm exaggerating just a little bit, she said to herself, as she walked back into the dorm room. He's only saved the world once, and it just about figures that I wasn't around then to yell at him for putting himself in danger like I usually do.....

She checked her reflection in the full-length mirror near the door. None of the girls could ever leave the room without checking their hair and their makeup and their clothes- pointless, really, as they all would up looking alike from the neck down in those robes. Well, except Hermione, who didn't wear makeup. Oh, and Lavender, but she was.....unique.

Hermione smiled to herself as she remembered back in their third year, when Lavender was best friends with Pavarti Patil. They were both such ninnies about everything back then, she thought to herself. Always haunting Professor Trelawney's tower room. They were worse kiss-ups then than I was, she thought. They were both sissies. Sissies that were in love with the ever-forgetful Neville Longbottom, as Dean Thomas never failed to remind them.

Of course, it was all different now. Lavender, having spent the summer before her fifth year in New York City, had become the resident punk-chick of Gryffindor Tower, while Pavarti had befriended Cho Chang (while she had still been at school), and had become more of a ninny than ever. A gossipy one, at that. Honestly, how does Dean put up with her?

"I really don't understand why Professor McGonagall won't let me wear these," commented Lavender, holding up a pair of combat boots with five inch platforms. "They are black, you know.....it's not like I'd clash....."

"Lavender, we're witches, not PI's," Hermione sighed, putting in a pair of delicate silver hoops.

"Ooh, nice earrings.....where'd ya get 'em? Huh, huh, huh? Ooh, I bet I know....." Lavender's face twisted into a devilish grin.

"Lav-en-der. They were a sixteenth birthday present, not a declaration of love." Hermione attached the back of the hoops on. "Are you blind or something? I've worn them every day for over a year."

"And we all know why....." Lavender stopped short, to run to avoid the pillow Hermione had tossed at her head.

"You're going to get it, Brown! I'm telling you, eventually....." Hermione trailed off. Somehow, today, she lacked the energy to banter with her best girl friend. She was preoccupied with something else, something more important.

It was an odd, nagging feeling.

Something was going to happen that day. Something big. Unfortunately, Hermione had no conscious idea of what it was. There was a little thing tugging on the back of her brain, teasing her by keeping the future event just out of her mind's reach.

"I'm having one of those days, aren't I?" she said to herself, as she walked out of the dorm, down to the Great Hall.

"Morning, Hermione! Mmm, eggs!" Ron greeted her merrily. "My favorite!"

"Hey, Ron," Hermione returned listlessly. She couldn't say anything more; she was too busy working on figuring out what that feeling was.

"Hermione? Is anything wrong?" A voice came from behind her.

"No, nothing, Harry, really." Hermione was pulled back to reality by her favorite sound; Harry's voice. "I'm just having one of those days, I guess."

"One of what days?" Harry asked, sitting down at the table. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing....." Hermione was quickly zoning out again.

"Herm, don't just stand there like that, with that look on your face. You're creeping me out," he said, standing up and pulling out a chair for her. "Sit."

Hermione sat. "It's really weird- I have this feeling that something big is going to happen today, but I don't know what it is. It's eating away at my brain....."

Harry just stared. "Kind of like déjà vu? Like your life.....well, is going to change?" he almost whispered.

"Exactly," said Hermione, with a quizzical look. It's a good thing everyone's absorbed in the eggs, she thought, otherwise, they'd be looking at us like we just lost our minds.

"I'm having that, too. Ever since I woke up this morning....." Harry gave Hermione one of his intense stares.

Good thing I'm so preoccupied this morning, otherwise, I'd melt under that stare, those eyes, right now. "And you think you know what it is, but you just can't figure it out?" Hermione's voice dropped significantly.

"Yeah," Harry's green eyes grew wider, and stared into Hermione's brown ones. "It's not really a good feeling, either. It's pretty scary."

"You don't think....." Hermione tilted her head to one side. "You don't think it might be....."

"You-Know-Who?" Hermione nodded. "It has to be. What else is there to be afraid of?" Harry shook a few loose pieces of hair out of his face. "It's May. Late May. God, our time at Hogwarts is almost over. He'll be striking....."

"Any minute now." Hermione shivered, even in the warm spring air. "Jesus, this is awfully creepy."

"I know," Harry said, moving closer to her. "Are you cold?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah. I'm getting the chills, just thinking about.....you know."

"Yeah." While the rest of the Hall was bustling cheerfully, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger sat there, looking into each other's eyes, and seeing the same thing: fear.

"Do you think, you know, maybe we should tell Dumbledore?" Hermione asked quietly.

"No, not yet. Maybe we're just imagining things. We don't want to send out a false alarm." Harry adjusted his glasses. "Let's wait. It could be just a coincidence," he said, as the alert went out for students to go to their first classes.

Yeah. Coincidence. Harry and I both have the same terrible feeling, enough to send chills down the spine. We've never been wrong about these things in the past. Yeah, it's coincidence, all right, Hermione thought, as she walked with Harry, Ron, Lavender, and the rest of the Gryffindors to double Potions.

"You know, maybe that weird feeling wasn't about You-Know-Who; maybe it was about Snape's review for his final exam," Harry whispered to Hermione about halfway through the class.

Although she was the best student at Hogwarts, Hermione had to admit that Harry had a point. What with the boiling cauldrons, intense heat, creepy organs floating in jars along the walls, and the generally tense atmosphere, Snape's dungeon classroom bore a striking resemblance to the fiery pits of Hell.

"Well, then, everyone would be having it," Hermione whispered back.

"Everyone except for Draco Malfoy." Harry glanced across the room at his archenemy. "If it was possible for him to be more of a pet to Snape, I swear to God that he'd be on a leash, drinking from a bowl on the floor. Maybe he'd even play dead if we asked nicely."

"Harry!" Hermione laughed, the first truly pleasant feeling she'd had all morning. "Actually, Malfoy doesn't exactly look in top shape today."

"You're right. I wonder if dear Daddy Lucius forgot to send his biweekly hundred-Galleon allowance." Harry rolled his eyes. "Spoiled brat."

Draco did indeed look tired. His normally perfect, silver blond hair was misparted, and hanging over his face a bit. He looked even paler than usual- Hermione hadn't thought that was possible, as Malfoy usually bore a resemblance to a dead fish. His robes were messy, and he seemed to be tripping over himself as he set about making a Healing Humectant. Snape wasn't yelling at Draco to pick up his pace, but he was sending him sharp looks every few minutes.

"What's with him? He looks like he was run over by a bulldozer on his way to the dungeons," said Hermione. "Normally, Malfoy looks like a Wizard, Zombie and Witch ad."

"Maybe-" Harry started, but Hermione never got to hear his theory on Malfoy's appearance, because just then, a crackling came over the announcement system.

"All students, teachers, ghosts, and poltergeists are to report to the Great Hall immediately. Repeat, everyone is to report to the Great Hall immediately." The unmistakable no-nonsense tone of Minerva McGonagall echoed throughout the halls of the castle.

"All right, all right, cover your cauldrons, students. I have to stay and put some things away- I trust you'll all be able to find your way to the Hall by yourselves, even you, Potter." Snape smiled vindictively.

"I'll bet Malfoy just loved that last little comment," Harry muttered, as he and Hermione walked up the stairs. "Sometimes, Snape just makes me so mad....."

"Relax, Harry. We have less than a month left." Hermione smiled.

"You're right. Then, it's off to who knows where." Harry raised his eyebrows. "And just where are you going after graduation, young lady?"

"Stop it, Harry. You know as well as I do that I'm going to Wizarding University in London. In case you forgot, you're going there, too." Hermione rolled her eyes; Harry was being silly again.

"Ah, yes, how could I ever forget!" Harry said dramatically, twirling a bit on the steps. "Whoops!" His shoelace caught on a crack in the stairs in mid-pirouette, and he looked set to fall. Luckily, Hermione grabbed his arm last-minute.

"Smooth move, Harry. Let's all spin in circles on the old, cracked stone stairs, shall we?" Hermione pulled Harry up. "See who can break their neck first, why don't we?"

"Oops." Harry hung his head in a show of mock shame. "I'll never do that again. Spare myself the lecture from Hermione Granger."

"Uh-huh. Right." It wasn't until they had started walking again that Hermione noticed that Harry still had hold of her hand.

OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod. I'm actually holding his hand. OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod. Hermione's heart was racing. This isn't making sense.....

"I wonder what's so urgent that we all have to be up here," Harry said aloud, as they walked into the Great Hall. The entire population of Hogwarts was swarming around, abuzz with rumors of what Dumbledore and McGonagall could have to say. Of course, the gossips had a field day with a new subject when Harry and Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table, hand in hand.

"Attention, attention! Would you all please have a seat? Headmaster Dumbledore has an extremely important announcement, and I'm sure no one wants to miss it!" McGonagall hollered through her magical megaphone.

Soon, the Hall was quiet, and Dumbledore stood up at the Head Table.

"Students, teachers, ghosts. Today is, indeed, a joyous day in the history of the world. Church bells will ring, people will dance in the streets, and every witch and wizard will have a huge burden lifted from their shoulders." Dumbledore's voice was overflowing with joy. "It is my pleasure to inform you all that, as of nine o' clock this morning, the Dark Lord Voldemort is dead, having committed suicide in a village outside Glasgow."

The Hall erupted. The Dark Lord, finally, truly gone from the Earth? No more living in fear, no more dancing around the name? The leader of Evil, finally destroyed?

Professor McGonagall, having lost all dignity, was jumping up and down, hugging Snape, who, for once, looked happy at something other that Harry screwing up.

Nearly Headless Nick had to hold onto his head with one ghostly hand, afraid that it would fall off if he whizzed around too much.

The Bloody Baron actually smiled.

Sir Cadogan had come galloping into one of the portraits, and was dancing a jig with the Fat Lady.

Ron had picked Ginny off the ground, and was spinning her in the air.

Lavender had taken off one of her chain necklaces, and was twirling it around, whooping.

Pavarti was crying with joy, not caring that her mascara was running in streaks down her face.

Peeves the Poltergeist had grabbed Neville Longbottom, and was flying around the room. Neville was too happy to notice that he was twenty feet off the ground.

And in the middle of it all, Harry Potter had leaned over and kissed Hermione Granger.

"All classes have been called off for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, a normal schedule shall resume. Have a fantastic day!" Dumbledore's voice rumbled throughout the hall.

However, there were two people in the room that weren't jumping up and down, yelling and screaming.

One, a Gryffindor sixth year, just sat at the table and smiled malevolently. They won't be celebrating for long, he thought. Just they wait.

The other, a Slytherin seventh year, had initially bounced with happiness. Now Father has no incentive to push me into being a Dark Wizard like himself, thought Draco Malfoy. There's nothing there for me! Maybe, Father will even come back over!

Unfortunately, he had soon returned to Earth, suddenly remembering a conversation with his father over Easter Break.

Something about a potion. A potion that would transfer a dead man's powers to a live man.

A cold wave came over Draco. He's not gone. He's not gone. HE'S NOT GONE, DAMMIT! His powers are still here!

Oh, no.....

Elsewhere in the room, there were two other people that were silent, but for another reason.

"Hey, are you two planning on coming up for air any time soon?" Ron put Ginny down on the floor, and smirked at his two liplocked best friends.

Reluctantly, Harry and Hermione parted. "Oh.....ah, hi, Ron, Ginny," Harry stammered out. "Ah, um, we were just, um....."

"Relax, you two. We've all seen it coming for a while now." Ginny now looked slightly dizzy from being spun for so long. "Don't get too embarrassed. We'll leave you alone," she said, as Ron picked her up and started spinning her in the air again.

"They have a point," Harry whispered.

"What?" Hermione asked, her head resting on his shoulder.

"This has been a long time coming." Harry tilted his head down again.

"Too long," Hermione agreed, as they pulled each other into another passionate kiss.

There was finally total happiness in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, as almost every student rejoiced at the downfall of Voldemort.

Unfortunately, that bliss was not going to last.

*