Nicole Stevens: Blood and Daggers

Chapter Four: Squee and Ice-Cream

Happy birthday songs were so moronic. This one especially. I watched in disgust as my family sang 'Happy Birthday' to Harry. I kept my mouth clamped shut, determined not to sing. Harry didn't deserve it. I was tempted to go call Mark Baker to see if he had plans for tonight.

"Now blow out your candles and make a wish!" Ria said excitedly.

I felt Harry looking at me as he blew out his sixteen candles. I scowled down at the floor, not returning his gaze. Soon my mother declared that it was time for us to go into the living room to open presents. I had only thrown my gift onto the table after my father had badgered me about it.

"Open mine first!" Ria exclaimed.

"All right." I watched as he tore the paper off of a small box. Inside, a shirt lay on a bunch of tissue paper. The shirt was vivid green, like Harry's eyes.

Okay, one analogy is enough, I thought miserably to myself.

"Who's this from?" Harry had picked up my present. He was looking expectantly at me. I raised my hand lazily; ignoring my parent's piercing stares.

He ripped off the wrapping, and beneath it was an extremely long package. He lifted the lid, and smiled. It was a Firebolt 2003, the newest and fastest version. I had bought it for him at the end of school, because he had left his broom at the Dark Lord's castle last year. The broom's brilliant blood red handle glinted in the dim light. It's gold lettering proclaimed 'Firebolt 2003 LTD. Edition'.

"Thanks, Nicky," Harry said.

"Urgh," I replied. It was a non-committal answer.

We finished the gift opening and I made excuses that I felt sick. I went into my room and slipped into my comfy pyjamas. Sighing, I sadly climbed into my double-high bed. This was no fun.

I heard low voices in the hall, but I ignored them. When I heard my door open and close softly, I sat up. Harry looked at me, then at the floor. He mumbled something indistinguishable at the floor.

"What?"

"I said I was sorry," he clarified. "I didn't mean to let it go that far." When he saw my expression he continued, "She said she wanted to talk with me, and I went with her. Ria took me into her room, and then just sort-of--"

"So you're blaming it on her? Well, I don't know, but I think that kissing really needs the cooperation of two people to work. Don't you agree?"

"No, I'm not blaming her; I'm just telling you what happened. Please forgive me. I know I don't deserve it, but...I don't want to lose you. You're the one thing I care about. If the rest of the world falls to pieces, then that's fine by me, just so long as you're okay."

"Yeah, well, I agree with you: you DON'T deserve forgiveness. How can I trust someone who goes around kissing my cousin? I need to know that you're serious about our relationship. About me."

"How much do you need?" he asked mischievously.

"What were you thinking of?" I asked.

"Oh, you know. The usual; locked door, and all that. Too bad we don't have a desk. That was fun." He was, of course, referring to last year's Yule Ball. We had--never mind, it doesn't add to the story.

"Well, I guess you don't have to move your cot into Ria's room. But, if you ever do that again, I swear I'll--" He cut me off by sweeping me into his arms and giving me a long kiss.

I allowed myself a grin. Harry was serious.

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"Oi, Nicky, you've got an owl." I smiled as Harry handed me a letter across the table. It was breakfast, and summer was almost over. We had not had any more squabbles, and happily so. I took my letter from him, just as a second owl flew threw the open window.

I silently read my letter.

Dear Miss Stevens,

Term begins on September first. You shall meet in the Entrance hall at seven o' clock, along with the other students. Please find enclosed a list of supplies for your classes. You will need all of the supplies listed.

Sixth years will have interactive classes, as well as having the privilege of student teaching. If you sign up, you shall co-teach with another student. The teacher of your assigned class will leave class plans for you to teach from.

The Hogwarts Express will leave Platform 9 ¾ at eleven o' clock of September first, and arrive at Hogsmeade Station at six thirty. Please be on time. Late students must provide themselves a way to go.

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

The second piece of parchment had all of the school supplies that I would need for the year.

Uniform:

Books:

Unfogging the Future II

The Standard Book of Spells Grade III

Advanced Transfiguration

Orbs of Fate

Charms, Curses, and Spells

Herbology V

Merlin & Morgan Le Fay: Advanced Lineage

History of Wizardry

Protection from the Dark Arts

Supplies:

I rolled up my letter and looked at Harry. He had just finished reading his school note. He raised his eyes to mine, and I asked him,

"When should we go to Diagon Alley? Maybe tomorrow?"

"Maybe. We could go today; it's only eight now. That'd be enough time, I think," he replied.

"Ooh, Diagon Alley," Ria said wistfully, draping her arm over Harry's shoulders and leaning on him. He shrugged, making Ria move. She scowled at him, then glared daggers at me. I smiled sweetly and leant over the table, kissing Harry lightly.

"I'm going outside," I said once I'd stood up. "See ya' later!"

I hurried out of the kitchen, feeling Shawn and Ria's glares on the back of my head. Smiling, I ran out the front door, hopping down the stairs. My shoes thumped against the polished wood of the porch. I tossed my golden hair over my shoulder, and looked up at the gorgeously grey sky. It was overcast, just the way I liked it.

The porch swing creaked as a light breeze blew it. I grinned, too happy for words. I didn't know why I was so happy. No doubt it had something to do with going to Diagon Alley and getting away from my relatives.

I ran down into the forest, through the clearing and into the darker part of the woods where Justicia and Melagh lived. The trees were old, but they were friendly, so long as you didn't upset them by threatening to cut them down. They didn't like that. As I sat on the ground by Justicia's root, I rummaged through my bag, finally extracting a small mirror-like item. I held it in my lap, pondering if I wanted to do this. I finally decided that I did, so I took out a small scrap of paper, and read it aloud:

*Green and growing, show me,

Swift and silent, show me,

Damp and dingy, show me,

Deep and shining, show me what I would see.*

Draco Malfoy!"

The mirror's surface clouded over, looking like a mist had consumed it. I waited anxiously for something to happen. What if the communication spell didn't work?

Soon, the mirror de-fogged and I stared intently into it. A boy of about my age stared back. He had silvery hair, and well-defined cheekbones, but whoever he was, he certainly wasn't Draco.

"Nicole?" the boy asked incredulously.

"Somnus? Where's Draco? I'm sorry," I apologized, and wondered why.

"Yes, it's me. Draco's not home right now; he just stepped out. Well, he's home, but not here. Would you like for me to get him for you?"

"Um, uh, yeah. Just don't tell anyone it's me, okay?"

"Yes, of course," Somnus replied.

He left, and I saw only blackness. For a few moments, I waited. Finally, I heard some voices from far away saying,

"...yes, a call for you...no, it's not him...I answered it...told me to go get you...cousin, stop telling me what to do, I don't want to pick up your laundry..."

Then the blackness faded, and I saw Draco's face. His grey eyes lit up when he saw me, but the first thing he said wasn't addressed to me, but to Somnus.

"Get out," he ordered. I heard Somnus grumbling, before a door slammed shut and Draco turned to look at me again.

"Hi," I greeted. "Why're you telling poor, ikkle Somnus to take your laundry?"

"Oh, him. Well, he's been here all summer, pestering the living daylights out of me. I figured it was time he did some work. How are you? I haven't heard a word from you all summer. The Dark Lord is splitting hairs all over the place. Every time I see him, he looks ready to spit nails. He's not happy that you've deserted. He has all of the adults out hunting for you. My father's in France. Voldemort thinks you might've gone there. You're not, are you? Because if you are, then I can assure you my father will be able to find you."

"Of course not," I replied. "In fact, I've not left my house. There's a Fidelius Charm on my house, so no one can find it. I'm completely safe."

"Good. I was worried, nearly frightened 'poor ikkle' Somnus out of his wits, I did. One day, I was going mad with worry, and Somnus got in the way of the lantern I threw. It hit him in the head, and he had a concussion, pity it wasn't lit. Serves him right for interrupting. But, enough about me, what about you?"

"Me? Oh, nothing much. I'm doing really well, except my cousins and aunt are here. Shawn, he's eighteen, keeps trying to set me up with this pervert friend of his. I don't care how handsome Mark is, he is not my type. But, Ria's almost worst. She keeps trying to--" I paused, trying to think of how not to mention Harry. "Well, she's just being really annoying."

"And, are you still with Harry?"

"Yes."

"He's there with you, isn't he?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered guiltily.

"Ria was trying to steal him from you, wasn't she?"

"How did you know about all of that?"

"Easy, whenever you are trying not to tell me something, you get quieter. If you're trying not to talk about Harry, you blush. When you got quiet and blushed, I knew about Harry. And, I think I've got a third-cousin who's American who knows a Ria. As far-fetched as this may sound, the name 'Ria' just sounds like she's a temptress."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I just wanted to see how you were. You know, I can't have you going and getting a girlfriend without my knowledge," I teased.

He laughed and then became serious. "I couldn't," he whispered, not looking at me.

"Couldn't what?" I asked.

"I couldn't get a girlfriend. Well, I wouldn't. I could, but I wouldn't."

"Bye Draco," I said before he could say any more. I tapped the mirror and stuffed it into my bag. Then I leaned back against the willow trunk and let myself relax.

"He is a handsome one," Melagh said. "His family is part-veela, part-fae, only one-fifth human. Really a good mix, as far as looks go, but they do have quite a temper. Very touchy, never ones to insult."

"Tell me about it," I groaned. "He gets angry very easily, I must say. Oh well. Melagh, can you try to track Voldemort? I really need to know where he is."

"I shall try, keeper," she answered.

"Thanks."

Melagh was quiet for about five minutes before she said, "Keeper, I am sorry to report that his shields have been permanently installed. There is no way to track him. I apologize, sincerely."

"It's alright Melagh," I said, rubbing my eyes wearily. "I don't think I need anyone else tracked. Wait, yes there is. Please find Lucius Malfoy."

"Of course."

When Melagh spoke again, she had news. Melagh said that Lucius Malfoy was in London. Draco had been misinformed. She also told me that he was hot on my trail, though technically he could not break the Protection Spell that was on my house. It worried the old oak that Lucius had lied to his son and was quickly piecing together my mysterious disappearance. If he found something--anything--that said where I was, then I was in deep trouble. Argil said that there was nothing to worry about, but I privately disagreed. Salem told me that even if he found me, that he could not do anything to me. I desperately wanted to believe him, but I wouldn't allow myself to. But the willow had the most helpful input. She told me to leave. Just up and leave. Grab my bags and head to Diagon Alley.

I nodded and walked back up to the house. My parents needed to hear my plans.

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"G-going to Diagon Alley," my mother stuttered. "Without us."

"Yeah. I know it's on short notice, but I figure that I'll go with Harry, and we'll rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron. It's nothing big, but I've found out a couple of things that will help seriously. And, you can come with us, and drop us off, but you can't stay with us, because we would attract too much attention," I explained.

"Well, sweetness, we know that your safety is important, but I don't think you need to go all the way to London. We could--"

"Dad, I really have to go to London. Diagon Alley is the safest place. Please? I have to have your permission to go. Well, I don't--but still I have to go."

"Alright, but we're owling Professor Dumbledore, and telling him where you're going to be. He'll want to know, no doubt."

"Okay, Mom. That's fine. Harry's already agreed to come with me, and all I need is money for a taxi, unless you want to take me, of course."

"We'll take you," my dad said. "If it's all we can do. You're positive that we can't come?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

They nodded and I grinned, trying to fake happiness. Being tracked by Lucius Malfoy was not fun at all. I ran downstairs from my parent's bedroom, and into my room. Harry was lying on my bed, asleep. It was early in the morning, and he was tired? Ook, what was he thinking.

I smiled, despite my dislike of not having him to talk with. He slept soundly, that was for sure. His eyes were closed, and I noticed that he had forgotten to take off his glasses. I walked over to him and removed them, setting them gently on the bedside table. As he slept, I surveyed him. His hair was a mess of black tangles. His clothes were wrinkled, no matter how much my mother had tried to iron them. Harry's chest rose and fell as he breathed softly. He was relaxed, and I could not remember the last time I had seen him in such a peaceful state.

As I stood up from the bed, I saw that Harry had a note clutched in his hand. I gently pried his fingers from the parchment and looked at it. It was a letter.

Harry,

It's good to hear from you again. But your news is not as good, I'm afraid. Your girlfriend, she sounds like someone your parents would be proud of. She sounds like Lily, to be honest. Not in appearance of course, but her actions. She seems noble and genuinely caring. I must say that men in your family have very good taste in women, but that's not what I'm writing this letter about.

The vision you told me about sounds bad. I don't want to scare you, but your girlfriend seems to be a real seer. She was kidnapped by Voldemort because of her gifts, and I believe that he is still after her. Though I hate to say it, I think that you might need to go back to Hogwarts for the rest of the summer.

There have been some odd goings-on, and I'll wager that they are all connected in some way to Voldemort. There have been thefts of very dangerous dark items. In the Museum of Witchcraft, three things were stolen: a rod of Blackness, the cup of Leandre, a sword of Binoctium, and the pentacle of Lamia. They are all very powerful dark implements that are only used in Dark spells of the worst sort. Be careful Harry.

Sirius

"Sirius..." I whispered. "Sirius? What's this about?"

Harry rolled over, peaceful as ever. He did not know the tidal wave of confusion that would soon ensue.

I looked down at the figure of my sleeping boyfriend. He was handsome, not heart-stopping gorgeous, but definitely cute. Without his glasses, he looked older, though lately he seemed strained and tense, too much for his age. I supposed that when you had been through as much as Harry had, then there was cause for quick aging. I desperately wanted to take whatever burden Harry had, and carry it myself, but I had problems of my own, as well. How could I be responsible for his worries and mine at the same time? How I managed now even surprised and confused me. It was, I guessed, a live-or-die natural instinct that kicked in whenever you were pressured. I had tried to keep my worries from Harry, or course, but he knew me too well. Anyone but him I could have fooled with my act of nonchalant coolness, but this was Harry. Harry, who always knew when I was sad; Harry who always tried his best to take my burden from me, and carry it on his young shoulders. It was Harry, and only Harry, who could find any bit of sadness I felt.

He rolled over again, a small content noise issuing from his lips. I grinned meekly, sweeping my concerns under the rug. Whatever lay ahead, and I knew that there would be much, I could get through. I had to. There was no choice; I had to.

Harry woke up, some time later. I still had not moved from my spot beside the bed. As his eyes flickered open, immediately spotting me, I could see the at-ease look in his eyes. Those eyes, they were the things that had brought me to him. Those eyes, like emeralds, sparkling in the great depths of an ocean had enchanted me, capturing me in their deep green pool of emotion. I did not know why he stayed with me. I was pretty, but no great beauty, despite the instant attraction of almost every male in the school populace. Most likely, even though I did not realize it at the time, my sparkling azure eyes were what attracted every guy to me. I was attracted to Harry, for the same reasons he was attracted to me.

"Hi," I finally whispered, after five minutes of silently staring at Harry's face.

"Hi, yourself," he replied.

"What's this?" I held up the letter.

"I don't know, what is it?"

"It's a letter, for you. From...Sirius. Who's he?"

"What!? Give me that!" He hopped up and grabbed at it. I stepped back, and he cornered me against the wall. Harry placed one hand on my hip, and the other, he used to steal back his letter. He stepped back from me, sitting on the bed and tucking the letter into his pocket.

"Who is Sirius, Harry?" I asked slowly.

"No one."

"He must be someone, if you're getting letters from him," I responded.

"He's not someone you need to know about," Harry told me. "It's none of your business."

"None of my business? Harry, if I might inform you, everything and anything that involves you is my business. Strictly so, in fact."

"No, that's not true. I'll tell you when it's important that you know. For the time being however, I don't see that you have to know about him. Sirius wouldn't approve."

"Sirius can go to the devil! Now tell me who he is!"

"He's just this guy."

"This guy, it seems, know a lot about me and you. Who is he?" I was determined to pester him until he told me.

"He is--was--a friend of my parents. That's all I'll tell you. For now. It's really not that important," he said.

"Do Ron and Hermione know who Sirius is?" I pressed.

"Erm...yes."

"Then why can't I?"

"Because they helped me save him, you didn't. They only know by necessity. Nicky, please don't make me tell you."

"No way am I letting you get away with this secret. Tell me, Harry. If it's a secret, then I'll keep it. I promise." I hoped that my pledge would soften him.

"You'll be in danger if you know," he informed me.

"I'm in danger now, nothing you tell me will increase my odds of death."

"Alright, fine. Sirius Black is my godfather."

"Sirius Black?! What--"

"Let me explain. He's not a murderer. He didn't betray my parents to Voldemort, and he didn't kill Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew framed Sirius. It was a big ruse. Sirius was in Azkaban for twelve years, until my third year, when he figured out that Ron's rat, Scabbers, was Peter. Sirius escaped, not to come after me, but to go after Pettigrew. He was at Hogwarts all year during my third year, and Hermione's cat Crookshanks helped Sirius try to catch Peter."

"What?" I asked, my scepticism showing clearly in my voice.

"It's all true. Believe me. I was there when Sirius caught Peter, but Wormtail, that's Peter, got away," Harry explained.

"...Oh my god," I muttered, "oh...my...god..."

"It's okay, Nicky. Just relax. Do you understand what I said?"

I nodded mutely, sitting beside Harry on the bed. I felt like my mouth was glued shut. Sirius Black, the famous murderer, was Harry's godfather. I had heard of Black in America, when he'd escaped. Even the Americans were warned of the supposed convict. How could all that Harry had said be true? It would have been a conspiracy for the Ministry. They had to have covered it up.

"Okay, Harry," I said after I had finally digested the information. "Okay, I believe you. Squee, that was exhausting."

"Squee?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Squee, it's my word. It means 'fun', or 'whew' or 'nice'. It all really depends on the context that it's used in."

"Oh, right."

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"So we're all packed?" I asked Harry as we surveyed the wreckage in my room.

"Er, I guess so. What time are we leaving again?"

"In twenty minutes: that'll be eleven thirty-five. Let's get this junk outside." He nodded, and we began to lug my school trunk down to the car. The car's trunk was open, and Harry lifted my school chest into the back. I dusted my hands off, and trudged wearily back to the house. Once Harry and I were inside, we began trying to heave his chest out there.

Soon, we had our trunks in the car, and were all set to go to London. Shawn had been very angry that Harry and I were leaving for Diagon Alley. He had protested and complained, but I had waved his insults and comments away, ignoring him whole-heartedly. Ria had been adamant that there was no way Harry could leave without her. He had concluded, however, that not saying goodbye to her would end her ostentatious flirting. I had been extremely excited at the prospect of staying with Harry at the Leaky Cauldron, though Ria and Shawn were both furious at the mere mention of it. This only made me more inclined to gloat, of course.

I headed down to the car, followed by Harry, and proceeded by my parents. They exchanged nervous glances as we walked, and I felt a pang of regret as I hopped in the car.

Leaving my parents for almost two weeks. Was it the right choice? I asked myself.

Of course. Draco, the little fox, was right. His father would find you here, though I'm not entirely sure if you'll be better off in Diagon Alley. I believe you made the right choice, dear kitten, but I am just a conscience. What am I to know?

Nothing, of course. You know--

Well obviously not, my conscience quipped, you just said I didn't know anything.

Oh, yeah. Well, I think I'll be better off if I get away from here for a little while. What with Shawn trying to sell me off to his friends and Ria snogging Harry, I haven't gotten any peace of mind. I should enjoy two weeks off.

We were soon stopping in front of the dingy looking pub, with a sign hanging over the entryway saying 'The Leaky Cauldron'. I grinned happily to myself, before jumping out of the car and trotting inside with Harry. My father parked the car, and came inside with my mother.

I walked up to the bar, where a wizened old man stood serving drinks. Standing up tall, I asked,

"Do you have a room free?"

"With two beds," my father added warningly.

"No, indeed," he answered. "But, I have a room with one king-size bed." He winked at me, and I grinned, shooting a glance at Harry, who returned my look with a smile.

"We'll take it," I said, beaming at my parents, who were looking as if they had just swallowed some skele-gro.

"Very well, then. Here's the key. Its room fourteen, but it's a suite, with a kitchen and living room. Free of charge, for you missy, and Mr. Potter. I shall go bring your things inside. If you'll please show me where they are?" he directed at my parents. My mother nodded sourly and began to stride out the door.

As soon as my parents were out the door, Harry and I burst out laughing. We received some very wary eyes from a couple of old men by the door, but the rest of the crowd seemed refreshed to have two lively, young teenagers in their midst. An old woman approached us, grinning idly.

"Good day to you, Miss Stevens. I trust you don't know me, but I know you. Arabella Figg, is my name," she greeted.

"Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked, his voice full of amazement.

"Yes, laddie. From down the street. Number one Privet Drive. Wonderful to see ya' again. 'Ow've you been 'olding up? Those Dursleys keepin' ya' well?"

"Reasonably," he answered, still mildly shocked. He obviously knew the woman. "So, you're a witch?" he asked.

"To be sure, I am. Went to 'Ogwarts myself. Very lovely down there. I must be goin' now, dearies. Lots ta' do, seein' as I'm on the Order. But you won't know of that. I spose Dumbledore'll tell ya' when 'e sees fit. Good day, to ya' now," and with that, she disappeared as if by magic. Oh wait, it was magic.

"Well, that was...odd," Harry said after a moment.

"Not really," I replied. "People pop in and out of places all the time. Quiet natural really."

"Yeah, right. Want to go see the room?"

"Yeah, let's."

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"This is too good to be true," I said once Harry had pushed open the door of our suite.

"I know," he answered in the same tone.

"Let's see how big it is."

We walked throughout the entire place. There was one HUGE bedroom with a king-size bed, covered in blue silk covers, a grand bathroom, with one hot-tub bathtub, and more faucets that I could count, a kitchen that was a chef's dream, a living room equipped with a major magical radio, and a giant closet that could have held five Hagrids.

I flopped back on the bed, with the radio's remote control in my hand. I pressed the on button, and was nearly blasted away by the noise (there was a radio in the bedroom too). The song was one of my favourites: Alexa Starlight, Not Really Here. I jammed to the song, only turning it down a couple of notches.

I'm not really here,

Not a thing is happening in this town,

I'm not really here,

I don't see why I'm stayin'

I'm not here because of you,

Don't flatter yourself with that high opinion,

I'm not here because of anybody,

I'm not really here...

I'm not really here,

I promise you that,

I'm really somewhere else,

I'm not really here...

How do you see me,

If I'm not really here,

How do you talk to me,

If I'm not really here...

The song ended, to be replaced by a newer Alexa Starlight song. It must have been her half hour. She was very popular nowadays. In fact, she was playing concerts all around the globe, which I really wanted to go to, but could not.

"Squee, I love that song," I sighed wistfully. Seeing Alexa Starlight in concert would be wonderful, but it would never happen.

"Not a bad song, actually," Harry said as he came into the bedroom.

"I know. I love it."

"It's a wonderful song, I'll grant you that."

Five minutes later, we heard a loud thumping coming from the stairs. I dashed out to see what it was, only to be confronted by two extremely cross looking parents, and one grinning innkeeper. My mother and father held my trunk between them, and the innkeeper, Tom, was carrying Harry's chest.

"That is the last time we agree to help carry in your luggage, Nicole," my mother said exhaustedly.

"'K, that's fine by me," I happily pranced into the bedroom, instructing for them to set the trunks at the foot of the bed.

"Bye," Harry and I waved goodbye to my parents as they drove away.

We walked back inside, just as I realized something amazing.

"Harry!" I exclaimed. "It's our anniversary! The day we first met. How amazing is that?"

"You just remembered that?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Uh, yeah. I did. Sorry," I blushed embarrassedly.

"Come on, I've got some money. We're going to go have some ice cream."

"Okay."

We walked outside into the little courtyard that separated the pub from Diagon Alley. Harry pulled out his wand and tapped the bricks. There was a scraping sound, as the bricks moved, to reveal an archway leading into a lane of wizard shops. Harry grabbed my hand and dragged me through, leading me to a shop called 'Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.'

"Harry," I reddened, "this is where..."

"We met," he finished for me, "I know. That's why I brought you here."

"You're so romantic," I said, going even redder.

"I know."

He took me over to a table, he same we had sat at exactly one year ago, and pulled out my chair. I sat down, and said,

"I was right when I said chivalry hadn't died after all."

"I know that too," Harry replied, sitting across from me. When the waiter came, I called up my memory of the day we had met.

"I'd like a Snapping Strawberry Sundae."

"And I'd like a Banana Firecracker Split," Harry said politely to the waiter. We had both ordered exactly the same thing as before.

"Coming right up, Mr. Potter."

"Potter?" a voice came from the table behind me.

I turned in my chair, looking at the man behind us. He had brown hair, and warm cinnamon eyes. His robes were slightly old looking, and he had sewn the hem several times, I noticed.

"Professor Lupin!" Harry called happily.

The man stood up and made his way to the table. He looked at me with interest, and asked,

"Harry, if you would please introduce me to your lovely friend?"

"Girlfriend, actually," Harry corrected. "Nicole, meet Remus Lupin. He was the DADA professor in my third year, and a good friend of my parents. Professor--"

"Remus, if you'd please, Harry."

"Okay, Remus. Well, Remus meet Nicole Stevens, my girlfriend."

"Hello, Nicole. Pleased to meet you," he shook my hand warmly.

"It's my pleasure," I answered. "Do you want to sit down?"

"Oh, no. I'd never interrupt."

"It's all right, really," I said.

"If you insist," Remus accepted, sitting in the chair on my left, in-between Harry and me.

"So what are you doing here?" Harry asked. "The last I heard of you, Si--Snuffles said that you were doing work for Dumbledore."

"I am now too, in a more literal and acknowledgeable sense. I'm to be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher again."

"Really? That's great!"

"Possibly, though I am a bit worried. It was a close shave last time. I hate to put any of you in danger again. It would weigh very heavily on my conscience."

"Well, you're lucky your conscience doesn't chastise you for every little character flaw," I put in.

"Ah, you must have an overactive conscience," Remus said jokingly. "Not many of those around. Keep it; you never know when it will come in handy."

"Don't worry, I tried to scare it away, but it wouldn't go."

Both of them laughed at this. I giggled a bit at my own joke, before becoming slightly more serious and asking,*.*

"So, Remus, or should I call you Professor Lupin?"

"Remus will be fine. In fact, I think Albus would prefer if you were on a first name basis with all of us...the members that is. You won't know about that yet, but I have a feeling you will find out soon enough."

"Huh? That's the second time today someone's said that. This is getting weird," I complained.

"I agree," Remus concurred. "Though, I do truly believe that Albus will tell you when the time comes. I must be going now, no really Harry. I shall see you soon; I am sure, as I am staying at the Leaky Cauldron, too. Room seventeen. Goodbye." Remus waved goodbye to us as he walked away. I sat for a few moments in puzzled silence, before the thing that had been nagging at me the most finally popped out.

"Harry, why is it that everyone seems to know something we don't?"

"Because they all do," he replied, a wide smile on his face.

"Oh, all right. Let them keep their secrets. If they all speak truly, then we'll learn what it's all about soon. Good thing too, I'm about to burst from all these well-kept secrets."

We ate, scarcely talking, because of our brain freezes. I had challenged Harry to an ice-cream eating contest, and he had won by about six bites, this meant, however, that he had a horrific brain-freeze, and could not talk, except to whimper piteously. I couldn't help but laugh when he finally managed to speak. The first thing he said was,

"I am going to get you back for that."

"Oh really?" I asked, laughing.

"Yes! That was unfair. You knew I'd win, but that I'd give myself a headache when I did."

"You're right. I did know all of that, but I guessed that you could forgive me, as I gave myself a headache, too."

"All right."