Unplottable

32 - Neville

The monthly trip to the stone circle, established as an institution a year and a half ago, had become as normal as the change of the moon to Ginny and Neville. In their agendas they marked the dates of the full moon along with class tests and friends' birthday; it wasn't as if Professor Varlerta still had to announce a few days ahead of time that yes, they were going to the stone circle on the night of the full moon again. She just reminded them on the very day, expecting her apprentices to be ready and to decide for themselves what they needed to pack besides their wands and their instruments.

In winter, they had needed warm coats, extra jumpers and woolly socks. Now, as May had passed its summit, such precautions were no longer needed; instead, Varlerta, Ginny and Neville, packed the emergency Portkeys provided by Flitwick. Leaving the castle grounds had become a bit of a risk. Before the election had been lost, they had only had to worry about accidentally bumping into a group of Death Eaters. Now, potential pursuers might very well be both working for the Ministry and Death Eaters at the same time. Right or wrong had become confused, Neville thought. At Hogwarts, things had not changed too much; outside, however, life had become troubled for many. Ginny's parents, for example, had left the Burrow and built themselves a small cabin in the League camp which was hidden in the castle grounds. After Arthur had lost his job at the Ministry, small attacks on Weasley family members had convinced them that they were no longer safe in their home. Neville knew that Ginny worried a lot about them, although she refused to talk about it. She appeared to see her father's failure to win the election and his subsequent unemployment as a matter of personal shame, something Neville found entirely foolish.

Toying with the two objects in his robes' pockets, his wand and the small glass disk Portkey safely enclosed in a leather etui, he waited for Ginny by the Portrait Hole. She was late, and not for the first time; probably she had been off smooching with Joolz again, Neville thought wryly. At her approach, he opened the Portrait Hole without another word. He knew that jealousy did not suit him, but he could not help thinking dark thoughts. Ginny and Joolz looked so happy, and Neville was still on his own. During band practice on the day before, they had kissed several times. Neville knew that they did not do it to hurt him; again and again he told himself that he valued Ginny as a close friend and that he liked the guitar player of his band well enough, too. It was no use. Even looking at Ginny, even walking towards Varlerta's building by her side hurt him. Trying to keep the hurt to himself was all he could do.

When they arrived, their teacher was packing her portable amplifier, guitar case and the smaller Shaman drum into Drifter's boot. The Ensouled car was busy toying with its automatic radio antenna, a new acquirement from some Muggle garage, it seemed. Ginny laughed good-naturedly when the car swung its antenna around in a circle, withdrew it and extended again, all the while merrily beeping its horn. All Neville managed was a weak smile. When Ginny moved to the boot to store her larger Shaman drum in it, Varlerta looked up.

"I've got to talk to you," she said, looking serious. "Let's sit down for a minute before we leave."

The two of them sat down on the stairs leading up to the building's front door, while Varlerta drew up a large flower pot to sit on its stony edge, wiping the edge to avoid dirtying her robes' rear side.

"We've received an owl from - from a spy," she told them. "We have to expect a major attack of the enemy this summer. They want to direct a big, evil spell at us, a spell that may kill us all. We have to fight against this spell. I have spoken to Dumbledore. Our music magic will have to take an important part in our defence. We have to prepare for that."

The scared look on Ginny's face mirrored Neville's own feelings. "What is it we have to fight against?" he asked.

Varlerta's lips became very thin and pale; she looked upset, but determined. "They will use a spell against us which is called Eliminatus. To magnify the spell, they will try to employ the minds of children and adolescents as channels of energy, or rather, of anti-matter, our source tells us. What we need to do is confuse their minds to hinder the channelling process. This is where our music magic comes in. We will Coax them, more precisely, use the methods of Coaxing human minds to confuse them. Or rather, I will, and I'm asking you whether you will help me. I'm talking about a big and dangerous project. There's no guarantee that we will succeed, or come out of this unhurt. Even if we succeed, our work may have unwanted consequences. Our defence may end up hurting or killing others, maybe children who are younger than you. I want you to know this before you decide."

"What happens if we do not want to participate?" Ginny asked, her face so pale that her freckles showed off like specks of dirt.

"I don't know," Varlerta admitted. "In spite of the information we got from our sources, there is no telling how strong the enemy will be." She hesitated briefly, but then she seemed to make up her mind to tell them the truth. "The staff fears the worst. We believe we are in mortal danger. There has been talk of evacuating the castle, but we have come to the conclusion that our protection lies in its thick and deeply magical walls, and in our number. It seems we will have the best chances of fending off the enemy if we stay here, because if we divide up into small groups and desert the castle, it's quite likely that Voldemort and his followers will find us nevertheless. If we stick together in this defence, our chances of survival look better than if we split up."

Ginny's eyes had grown large with fear. "I didn't think things had become that bad," she whispered. Neville nodded in agreement with her.

Looking increasingly weary, the teacher replied tonelessly: "I'm sorry, kids - I wish I had better things to tell you, but it seems things have indeed become that bad."

For some seemingly endless seconds, nobody said a word. Finally Ginny told Varlerta in a clear, steady voice: "Show me what I have to do."

Until he had heard her decision, Neville had not even felt there was something he could decide. It seemed the choice boiled down to either killing or being killed, and he didn't want to choose between such things. But when Ginny spoke, he knew that he could not back out now. "I'm with you," he said quietly.

Varlerta nodded. "I'm glad to hear that," she said, but she did not smile.

After a short pause, she added: "By the way, I'd like to take someone else along to the stone circle tonight. We need all the help we can get for Coaxing humans, so I believe we should train Roary and see how things will work for the four of us. Is that okay with you two?"

Neville was surprised about being asked his opinion; teachers didn't normally do that as far as his experience went. His surprise must have shown, because Varlerta explained:

"When we do some serious magic together, we must work as a team. I still see myself as some sort of leader in this particular group on grounds of my experience and of habit, but I certainly wouldn't want to be a dictator. That wouldn't be good for the team. We must get along, because disharmony in a group is fatal - even more so in a group doing music magic together. I have known you for some time, and neither of you seems to have a tendency to make rash or silly decisions. That's why I value your opinion."

"I don't mind having Roary with us," Ginny said. Neville nodded his agreement.

"I have a question, though," Ginny asked. "Shouldn't we ask Joolz, too - and Rhonda, and Kay? They are also musicians, and witches or wizards. If you say we need all the help we can get, shouldn't we take them along?"

Neville felt his heart sink. He did not want his band mates in the stone circle. Even if he could never have Ginny as a girlfriend, he still cherished the special kind of company he had found in her and Professor Varlerta. It was nice to share music with his band; music magic, however, had created a special bond between the three of them he did not want to share with anyone else. Roary would be an intruder, too - but he was an adult, a friendly one as far as he knew, and would not disturb his special relationship with Ginny. His other band mates, especially Joolz, were another matter to him. If Joolz and Ginny did music magic together, if she permitted the Ravenclaw guitarist to weave his tunes into her rhythm and alter reality with their music, Joolz would replace Neville in the only spot where he had believed himself to be irreplaceable.

"I've thought about it, but I admit I'm against it," Varlerta replied to Neville's relief. "Your band mates are musicians, true, but they know almost nothing about music magic. We would have to train them from the very beginning, and we have no time for that. I've been teaching Roary bits and pieces of music magic for years, and in some instances he even helped me develop some of it. He's not trained, but he's no novice either; with your band mates, it would be different. Also, I don't know them well enough to entrust them with such an important and dangerous task - not like I know you two, at any rate. Kay is too young, anyway - and Rhonda and Joolz are busy with their instruments and with Quidditch. It's not only your training they lack, but also your motivation. All in all, I consider it too big of a risk to include them in our training."

Ginny nodded; so did Neville. Varlerta's explanations made sense.

Seeing them nod, the teacher rose and opened the door of her building. Grabbing a light denim jacket, Roary came out, strikingly handsome as always.

"Hi, kids," he said kindly.

"Hello, Professor Lyons," Ginny said politely. Neville suddenly remembered that Ginny, unlike him, had not dropped out of Potions, so Roary was one of her teachers.

"Hi Ginny," Roary replied. "Er - do you think you could possibly call me something less formal during our training - and still call me Professor in class like all the other students?"

"I should be able to do that," Ginny replied a bit pompously while getting into Drifter's backseat behind Roary.

"Good," Professor Varlerta commented and slammed her door shut. Then she gently tapped the car's steering wheel with her fingers. Drifter did not need any more prompting; the car rose into the air immediately and sped off in the direction of the stone circle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While flying through the darkening sky, Varlerta and Roary taught Ginny and Neville a little tune that was new to them. It had a heavy, punctuated rhythm and somehow felt like it was dragging a foot, rather than skipping merrily like many punctuations; its small range of a minor third gave it a slightly humdrum sound. The words were a combination of ba-da-doom sounds; Varlerta said their purpose was only to enhance the feeling of the tune, not to convey any kind of meaning. "It is a focussing tune," she said when the car spiralled down to land on the deserted moor. "It will help our group to become one."

They entered the stone circle reverently, taking off their shoes and keeping their heads down to hint at a small bow. As usual, Varlerta did not take her electric guitar into the circle at first, trusting in the power of their combined voices and the two Shamanic drums to get the circle's acceptance. Behind her, Roary, Ginny and Neville were falling into the rhythm of her chanting, greeting the circle with the focussing tune.

Neville enjoyed the feel of the heather beneath his bare feet and the slight evening breeze in his face. The sky was turning a dark, bluish purple; pompous low clouds retained a rusty tinge. As often, he felt a deep and calm happiness take hold of him upon entering the magical realm of the stone circle. He didn't much care for the humdrum tune, but over time, he gave himself completely to singing it and walking the circle. Roary's powerful voice led them to join in with him until they sounded like one voice rather than four. To the rhythm of the two drums, their feet made soft, slightly thudding sounds on the ground, until walking, singing and keeping in time with the drums became one to Neville.

They walked for a long, long time. For a while, Neville wondered vaguely whether it would soon be time for him and Varlerta to switch to flute and guitar, but more and more he became immersed in the chanting, forgetting even why they had come. He lost himself in their mingled voices and the rhythm of the drums, becoming one with Ginny, Varlerta and even Roary. The power of the soil itself seemed to flood his body, causing a vague bliss. Neither did he feel his sore feet nor his aching throat. He walked. He sang. He absorbed the power of the circle. He became one with the group.

When Varlerta finally handed him his flute, a remote corner of his mind thought that it had to be well past midnight, but then he only put his fingers on the flute, continuing automatically the melody of the chant. It didn't occur to him to play anything else, any of the other tunes of power which they had used on all other visits to the stone circle. Behind him, a powerful, distorted throbbing joined in with tune and rhythm - Varlerta's electric guitar, coming from the small portable amplifier she had strapped onto her back. Roary's voice, clear and strong, soared above her riffs, mingling with the notes of Neville's flute. The world blurred before Neville's eyes, giving way to a kind of vision. Suddenly he saw a turreted castle enveloped in a blue light, slowly fading into nothingness. A group of children stood before it, uniform in their black robes, their eyes empty of emotion or human intelligence. His arms, numb with fatigue, dropped upon the sight; the flute sank away from his lips. "The father - the father will sacrifice the son, and the son will overcome the father," he heard himself whisper. Then he lost consciousness.

When he awoke, he was on Drifter's backseat, wrapped in a blanket. Not too far from him, Ginny's eyes glistened fearfully in the darkness, reflecting some distant light. They were flying, he realised; although the ride in the Ensouled car was completely smooth, somehow his body could feel that they had lost touch with the ground.

"What happened?" he murmured.

"You passed out," Ginny replied in a hushed voice. "You must have had a vision or something, Varlerta said, because you said funny things."

"Did he wake up?" Varlerta asked, turning around to the backseat. She sounded worried.

"Yes, I did," Neville replied, suddenly embarrassed.

"Are you okay?" Varlerta asked. Roary made an inarticulate, questioning noise, joining in with her concern.

"I'm fine," Neville assured them quickly. "I don't know what happened. There's nothing to worry about."

"Did you have a vision?" Roary asked, curiosity in his voice.

Neville thought for a while. Then he replied: "I think I saw Hogwarts, and there was a blue light, and children. I remember no more."

"You said something about a father and a son sacrificing each other, or something of that kind," Varlerta reminded him in a choked voice.

Neville nodded noiselessly; then, realising she couldn't see him nod, he replied: "I have no idea why I said that. It had nothing to do with the things I saw."

"Strange," Varlerta admitted. "Maybe we should ask Sibyl Trelawney. It sounds like her kind of thing."

"Hermione says Trelawney's an old fraud," Ginny commented.

Varlerta sighed. "So I've heard, too, but it doesn't mean she doesn't know anything about Divination - rather that like most seers, she isn't very reliable. We still should ask her, because she's the best we are going to get. Neville, are you willing to tell her about your vision tomorrow?"

Neville realised he had been on the brink of falling asleep. It took him a moment to make sense of Professor Varlerta's words, but he was able to reconstruct them in retrospect.

"Sure, I'll go to see her tomorrow after classes," he murmured, realising his speech was blurring a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not without a certain apprehension did Neville climb up to Professor Trelawney's tower the next day. He felt unsure of himself; after all, he had left Divination class as soon as he had been able to without entirely losing face. He had never been any good at it at all. To now go to Professor Trelawney to tell her he'd had a vision seemed ludicrous, if not preposterous. He was mortally afraid he'd be laughed at. Facing the professor's trapdoor, he recounted his reasons for going: He'd promised to Professor Varlerta he'd go and ask Trelawney; Professor Varlerta took his vision seriously; there were no students likely to be still around who could laugh at him, so the worst he had to fear was the teacher's scorn. Last but not least, he felt he was filled to the brim with the power gained from the stone circle. He hadn't tried it yet - he'd learned to control himself in class because he hated his classmates drawing comparison between the empowered and the unempowered Neville. After he'd gotten this visit over with, he reminded himself, he would practice Coaxing humans with Ginny and Varlerta, something he was looking forward to. They would probably do notably better than usually. All he had to do was live through this little encounter. He knocked.

"Dear, you have been standing beneath that door a long time before you came in, but I knew you would eventually knock," Professor Trelawney greeted him. With her glasses magnifying her eyes and her shimmering silk garment, she looked more than ever like a dragonfly. "Sit down, my dear," she said, indicating one of the cushions on the floor.

Neville sat, wondering where to start. His throat felt dry.

"You've seen something, a vision, and you want me to tell you what it means," Professor Trelawney stated.

Neville found her way of predicting things uncanny. Was she a mind-reader, or was it common that students approached her with such questions? "It's true," he said. Then he repeated his vision to her, ending with the words he somehow remembered saying at the end of it.

"Professor Lyons and Professor Varlerta said that the Eliminatus curse sometimes shines with a blue light, so I might have seen the actual thread of the Death Eaters and the children attacking the castle," he commented. "What I can't understand is that thing about the father and the son. Who does the vision talk about - any real persons, or is it just a symbol or something like that?"

Professor Trelawney was quiet for what seemed a long time. "I don't know yet," she replied. "I think you should write down your vision, and the things you said, and leave it for me to meditate on it." She thought for a minute; then she added in her usual, ominous voice: "It sounds like doom is upon us, and dark days are to come."

This sounded like usual Trelawney talk. Nevertheless, Neville took the parchment and quill she handed to him and tried his best to recount everything he had seen, heard and said. After he had finished, he blew on the piece of parchment to dry the ink and handed it back to her. "This is all I remember," he said quietly.

Professor Trelawney took the parchment from him without another comment, nodding in assent as well as in parting. Neville nodded back and rose from his seat. He realised that she had neither predicted his death nor mentioned his clumsiness. He had to be moving ahead in life, away from the clumsy, despised boy.

"Come back tomorrow - maybe I can tell you more," Professor Trelawney told him.

"Thank you," Neville said as he left through the trap door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Professor Varlerta had asked a couple of Ravenclaw fourth year students to be guinea pigs for their Coaxing experiment. She had promised them they wouldn't be subjected to anything ridiculous or humiliating, and had probably bribed them with extra credit to get their cooperation.

While the students waited outside Varlerta's building in the fading spring afternoon, the two teachers took Ginny and Neville inside for a short briefing: The trial persons, Varlerta argued, were not to know what they were supposed to do, because they were courteous and cooperating and might comply out of friendliness without being properly Coaxed if they knew what was expected of them.

"The first thing we'll do is to make them dance," Varlerta told them. "We'll play a little waltz and Coax them to dance to it. It will be easy, because it will come natural to them once they hear the music. The next thing we'll do is Coax them to sit down on the grass. I asked them not to wear their best clothes, so this shouldn't be a problem in any way. Last we'll Coax them to jump up and down, clap and shout 'Ravenclaw!' This shouldn't count as being against the rules either, because that's what they do whenever their Quidditch team is playing. However, it's more complex than the other things, so it will be the hardest."

The four of them went outside. Varlerta had already set up her portable amplifier and guitar; while she was strapping the instrument around her shoulders, Neville assembled his flute, and Ginny got her drum ready. Then Varlerta started on a simple chord progression in three-four time. Throughout hours of band practice, Neville had learned to develop an ear for chord progressions and to find notes to go with it. After a few trials, he had a simple, but entrancing melody to go with Varlerta's waltz. Ginny's rhythm was soft and plain, but strangely hypnotising. Then Roary fell in, singing of the pleasure of flying with the music, of giving your body up to it, without ever using the words 'dancing' or 'waltzing'.

Neville tried to make his melody sing of the joy of dancing. He remembered the few waltzes he had shared with Ginny, a long time ago on that Yule ball as well at the party at the end of the last school year. Before the Glaciera curse had put an end to that party, he'd swung her around, feeling light-footed in his socks, the room spinning around them as if he was in a kind of buzz. A good waltz, his flute sung, told of yearning and of bliss at the same time and transferred you into a different, a circular world.

Wrapped up in his playing, he hadn't noticed how successful they'd been until Ginny bumped her elbow into the side, all the while never breaking her rhythm. There the Ravenclaws were: A couple was already dancing in full swing, while the others were rocking in time with the waltz. Just as he looked, a girl grabbed the boy next to her, and swung him around. Eagerly, the boy pulled her towards him, and the two of them were dancing on the lawn.

Varlerta gave them a nod and muted her notes a bit, becoming softer and softer. Ginny, Neville and Roary followed suit, playing a diminuendo, letting the waltz fade towards nothing. The dancing of the Ravenclaw students became less intense; after a few fading bars, the second couple to have been dancing let go of each other, looking at each other with astonishment, while the first couple sank into each other's arms. Just as Neville decided to stop playing altogether, Varlerta raised her eyebrows. He got her meaning immediately. In soft, breathy notes, he let his flute talk of taking a rest, of relaxing, of sitting down on the grass. Roary hummed a soothing little melody, while Varlerta held a chord and Ginny tapped the skin of her drum lightly with her fingertips. A little hesitantly, the Ravenclaws sat.

Ginny, Neville and Varlerta put their instruments down and beamed at each other. Roary grinned at them. "Thank you," Varlerta said to her guinea pigs. "You're a big help. Take a rest."

After musicians and dancers had caught their breath, Varlerta told the Ravenclaws: "Thank you, again. There's one more thing I want you to do for us. Just listen to the music and do whatever comes to your mind." Obediently, the Ravenclaws remained where they were, waiting for what came next.

Neville's eyes were on the flute. He was wondering how to go about the third task the teachers had set for them. First of all they had to create enthusiasm and an overflow of energy; that wouldn't be too difficult. They should be able to make the students jump up and down, even to make them cheer. But make them shout "Ravenclaw!" - that was another matter. He realised they had to convey more than an emotion - they had to transmit a word in their music, and that was by far more difficult. True, it wasn't any utterly absurd word to these students - after all, they were used to cheering their house. However, the usual stimulus of a Quidditch game was missing. Neville wondered how to get the word across to them - could he put a word in his music? He decided to try thinking very hard of the word while playing.

After nodding to each other to signal they were ready, the musicians and the singer one after the other fell into a cheerful, up-tempo tune. Almost immediately, the students got up and started to smile. After a few bars, they started to bounce around a bit, then to cheer wordlessly, to whistle in applause and even to jump up and down. However, no articulate words came out of their mouths.

'Ravenclaw,' Neville tried to convey in his thoughts and in his music, 'Ravenclaw!' But nothing happened. Neither he nor the others seemed to be successful in any way with getting the word across.

The cheers of the Ravenclaw weakened a bit; their voices were turning hoarse. Neville saw Varlerta frowning; the teacher wasn't happy, and probably she was wondering whether to cut short the experiment, or just rely on Madam Pomfrey's cough potions and keep the Ravenclaws cheering. He heard his own playing drift off into triviality; he wasn't getting anything across, he felt.

He could not permit himself to develop any sad thoughts, he decided - he had to keep their guinea pigs cheering, cheering like in a Quidditch match, when the players were zooming around high in the air, speeding around after balls brushing past them so quickly that they became blurs of colour. He closed his eyes to see the red and the gold, and then the silver and the blue. A Gryffindor player almost was hit by a Bludger, while two Ravenclaw chasers were passing on the Quaffle. Oops - was that the Snitch? Playing quick and breathy notes on his flute, Neville zoomed in on Cho Chang, who was speeding after the little golden flash. Her eager face let him forget his own loyalties, and with his playing, he urged her on; he wanted her to catch it, to win. Faster and faster she flew, until suddenly - he almost stumbled over his own notes - she stopped in mid-air, raised her arm into the air, and in it shone - the golden Snitch.

"Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw," the students shouted, clapping and jumping up and down, their eyes closed. Neville could see Varlerta beam and look at her fellow musicians in turn as if to find out who had succeeded in Coaxing them into shouting the very word they had been trying to get across. He avoided her eyes, almost ashamed of the feeling of pride welling up in him: If he wasn't mistaken, he was the one who had succeeded.

The four of them let the music die off. The Ravenclaws tumbled down on the lawn, this time needing no Coaxing for this. "This was amazing," one of the girls said. "It was like at a Quidditch match!"

"It was a Quidditch match," another girl retorted. "I saw it as clearly as anything - Cho was outspeeding that Gryffindor seeker - what was his name again?"

Varlerta looked at them curiously. "You saw that? That's interesting." She looked questioningly at Roary, then at Ginny. Both shook their head almost imperceptibly. At Neville she looked last. He wasn't sure how to react, so he cast his eyes at the ground, signalling neither a yes nor a no. For him, it was almost too much to guess he had been the one to accomplish their task, but to have it discussed among everybody else was not what he wanted right now.

With thanks, Varlerta sent the Ravenclaw students away. Then the four musicians went inside to have a cup of tea.

"That was great," Ginny said to Varlerta. "I never thought we'd be able to do such things. It's amazing."

"I'm surprised at our success, too," the teacher replied, her eyes resting on Neville.

"I admit I am also impressed by the headway you've made," Roary said.

"Oh, I wish Joolz was here," Ginny said. "How much better we might have even done if we had trained him, too."

Neville felt anger well up in him. He was the one Ginny had been training with for almost two years now; he'd been the one to Coax the Ravenclaw students into shouting the right thing. And now, all Ginny could think of was her lover. He was hurt, but he didn't say anything.

"I found it harder than anything getting a verbal message across," Varlerta said to no-one in particular. "Emotions are much easier." Again, she looked at Neville as she spoke.

He nodded in response, sipping his tea, while Roary said: "But that's one of the characteristics in music, of course - it's mainly abstract and absolute without any specific meaning."

"Music's got the meaning you put into it," Varlerta replied.

"Music's got the meaning the listener puts into it," Roary retorted. "If you want to Coax your listeners, much more your ignorant or maybe even hostile listeners, you have to make damn sure you get the right thing across."

"But there's - not universal things, but conventions in music," Varlerta argued. "Like the fact we all think a tune in a minor key sounds sad. It's a convention, but it still works almost universally."

Ginny made a show of looking at her watch. "Well, I think I've got to get going," she said.

Varlerta looked up at her. "Thanks, you've been a great help."

Neville wasn't sure whether to follow her. He would have liked to spend time alone with Ginny, maybe to talk to her, but he didn't want to leave a conversation that might be interesting - particularly as the chances were Ginny was only leaving to meet Joolz. Still undecided, he got up, too.

"You don't think you could change your mind about Joolz?" Ginny asked the teacher.

Varlerta started saying something, but Neville blurted out rather loudly: "Joolz, all you ever think about is Joolz. He's not perfect, you know that? He's not a music mage like - like us."

Ginny's eyes narrowed at him. "Jealous, are you?" she asked softly.

Neville felt his cheeks go hot. "It's not that, it's just that you are making an ass out of yourself." He hadn't meant it that way, hadn't even meant to speak out at all, and now that everyone was looking at him, he felt like running and hiding.

"Oh, am I?" Ginny asked. She had gone pale. "Well, look who's talking."

"Ginny? Neville?" Varlerta addressed them. "Er - you shouldn't be arguing. You need to work together, remember? Not only are you in a band together, but you also need to cooperate in saving this castle from a deadly curse. You are too important to argue about silly, personal things."

Both students stared at her.

"I mean what I say," she told them firmly. "As I told you, harmony among us is an absolute necessity if we want to work well together. And working well together is absolutely vital at the moment. Before you argue about things of minor importance, remember that the fate of this castle and everybody living here may well be decided by us four, or maybe even the two of you. If we fail because you two argue, it may be the end of Hogwarts."