Of Love And War

Author's Notes: First and foremost, I'd like to thank Adrian, the Scottish guy at my work who gave me the name of a soccer team near the Scottish border. Thanks, man! Some things in here come from a very clever set of cocktail napkins I found at Larry's. Another line is from Disney's Hercules. Oh, if anyone wants to write me a Gryffindor Fight Song and then make a rude version of it as well, that'd be awfully sporting of you. I'd really appreciate it. On another note, I am an utter and complete Harry/Hermione shipper. I've been riding the HMS Pumpkin Pie for years and years, ever since I read Book One, actually. So I'm so sorry if I freaked everyone out with the hints of R/Hr, but I can guarantee that their strange behavior does not denote secret make out sessions in the broom closet. Or does it...? Also, I don't know for certain but I think I screwed up Mudungus's age as well as McGonagall's. In Book Two, Arthur Weasely says, "And Old Mudungus Fletcher tried to hex me when my back was turned." So he's probably older than Arabella and Sirius. Yet another Canon screw-up! You don't understand, this is really unlike me! As for his personality, you'll see the more 'ahem' Slytherin side to his personality soon enough.

Dedication: To GotHisAssKickedByAGirl!Harry, Sunburned!Ginny, Female!Draco and Pirate!Ron

Chapter Five - Quidditch Tryouts

Early Morning.

The sunlight filtered through the ancient windows, casting a pale glow on the flagged stone of the entryway. It couldn't be that long after dawn; there were no students or teachers in the corridor. The air itself seemed prime for invasion.

The oak doors slammed open, revealing the intruders in their long, dark cloaks and masks, identifiable in their very ambiguity.

The Death Eaters.

They seemed frustrated by the lack of targets in their vision and began indiscriminately blowing apart furniture and tapestries, either to draw out the castle's inhabitants or simply to pass the time. She was aware that although she was watching, she was, for all intents and purposes, invisible. She couldn't be hurt, yet she couldn't help either, and the frustration in her situation was intolerable.

Finally, the Calvary arrived in the form of the Hogwarts teachers. Even though she couldn't see their faces, she knew that's who they were. The Death Eaters, delighted it seemed  at the prospect of moving targets began a volley of spells back and forth with the erstwhile defenders, and in the confusion, a teacher fell....

With a small scream, Ginny Weasely awoke in bed.

Her hands shaking, she crawled out of bed and got dressed as quickly and quietly as possible. She grabbed one of her blank notebooks she kept for sketches and her school bag and headed down to the Gryffindor Common Room, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months.

Usually, after having that dream, she would sit there for hours trying to remember the details and pushing back the terror that always accompanied it. The dream itself wasn't too frightening, but for some reason she could feel the teachers’ fear, and not just a general feeling of all their fears wrapped into one, but each and every individual dread they all felt. The details would fade, and all she would be left with was that fear.

But this morning was different. Her mind was clearer and more focused than it had been since the dreams had begun, and she could remember each and every detail of what had happened. Strangely, she could remember other things too. Other dreams that she couldn't even necessarily remember having. They weren't even quite dreams, but more like visions.

Shaking her head of distractions, she wrote out every detail she could remember, right down to the varied heights of the Death Eaters. She was so completely engrossed; in fact, she didn't even notice something that would usually send her into a flap.

"Lo, Ginny," Harry said, sitting across from her at the same table. She looked up just long enough to note who it was.

"Hi, Harry," she said, scribbling incessantly. Harry peered over, just noting the length of what she was writing as opposed to what.

"Did you forget to do some homework for Binns class or something?" Harry said, smiling benignly. Ginny took that moment to notice that Harry had a freckle right on the end of his nose. In the past she would have found that adorable, but now it was merely distracting.

"No, this is something else, and no," she added hastily after seeing the look on his face, "It is most certainly not a diary!" Harry laughed.

"Well, I should hope not," he said, still laughing yet looking mildly relieved as well. He was a sweet boy, to be worried about something so stupid. Draco most likely would never be concerned about something like that.

Draco. Just thinking about the night before made Ginny blush, even though she knew that she had nothing to be embarrassed about. Quickly, she looked up to see if Harry had noticed, but he hadn't. She wasn't surprised. Harry never noticed anything unless it was about...

"Ginny, this may sound silly, but I have to ask you a question, and I want your honest opinion." Ginny looked at him quizzically. He looked so serious that for a second, she was unnerved.

"Is something going on between Hermione and Ron?" He said this quite fast, almost as if he was afraid that if he didn't get it out now he never would. "Because they're acting very strangely, and I'm very confused.... what are you laughing at?"

She knew she shouldn't laugh hat him, especially since it was obviously bothering him so much, but Ginny couldn't help herself. What a prat!

"You're kidding, right?" she said, still sputtering. "My brother and Hermione? Harry, hasn't it ever occurred to you"

"Hasn't what ever occurred to him?"

She was interrupted by Hermione herself coming and sitting down beside her, looking politely bemused. Ginny shook her head and got up to leave.

"Nothing," she said, a smile on her face. They watched her leave the Common Room and exit through the Portrait Hole for breakfast, still not understanding what she meant.

"Honestly," Ginny said as the Fat Lady closed behind her. "What do they think made me give up?"

***

"Good morning, Remus!"

"I'm not speaking to you."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of McGonagall's couch this morning," Arabella replied flippantly, reliving one of her favorite childhood pastimes; making fun of Remus Lupin.

Lupin sat his fork down and looked at her. His face wore a scowl but his eyes were laughing. "And how, may I ask, did you find time in your 'busy schedule' last night to think of my sleeping accommodations?"

"I went looking for you this morning and found Minerva in the Teacher's Lounge. She let me in on your little sleepover," she piled her plate high with kippers, bacon and eggs. Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Do I even have to ask what has brought you back to the land of the living? Two mornings ago in Diagon Alley you hardly ate a bite. What's brought about this change of appetite?"

Arabella began eating her eggs primly. "I don't know whatever you're referring to. I just had an exceptional night's sleep, that's all."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?" Remus asked innocently, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Oh, honestly, Remus," Arabella said, sounding flustered. "Why didn't you simply tell me that he would be here? Did you think I'd turn him in? You know how worried I was about him, and you traveled with me all this way, not saying a word"

Remus put his hands up in defense. "Now, hold on! I didn't know he was coming on the train with Harry, and I wasn't about to tell you 'Oh, by the way, Sirius may or may not be showing up this term to check on his godson. Have a nice time!' I knew he was safe, but I didn't know the answer to any of the questions I knew you would ask." He speared a sausage with his fork and made a face. "Besides, wasn't this way horribly romantic?"

"Oh, sod off," she said, smiling over her pumpkin juice. "Now, what happened to this whole 'lay low' plan you had cooked up? I thought you were going to hide out. The students are bound to recognize you."

Lupin shook his head. "Most likely, yes, but Dumbledore said there was no reason to hide, and the man has yet to tell me do something I ought not to. Besides, Sirius is in the tower room I was planning on using. Since when does he snore?"

"Search me," Arabella said, shrugging noncommittally. "He isn't...." she broke off, not quite certain what she wanted to finish that sentence with. True, he wasn't the same, but that was expecting the impossible, and it wasn't as if she really cared.

".... Isn't as far off as I was afraid he'd be."

They sat, eating in silence for a bit until Professor Sinistra joined them.

"Arabella, where on earth were you last night?"

Arabella sat for a moment or two, trying to figure out what on earth Jane was talking about, while Remus simply smiled into his cup of coffee. Then it hit her.

"Oh, Lord, I forgot about Mudungus!"

***

Try as she might, Ginny simply couldn't keep her eyes from straying over to the Slytherin table during breakfast. She justified it to herself that she was merely watching to see if Draco was telling anyone who would listen about his interlude with the little Gryffindor last night, but she knew that was an empty excuse. Draco didn't seem to even notice anyone at his table, and seemed disinclined to talk in general. With ten minutes left before the first class, he slowly turned his head towards her, and without an action or a word to communicate his request; she knew he wanted to talk to her.

"Where you off to, Gin?" Ron asked, his mouth stuffed with bacon as he furiously tried to make up for the fact he had slept in.

"I'm going to go and try to speak with Professor Flitwick before class." She almost tore away from the table, not wanting to lie, yet not willing to tell the truth either. When she got out of the Great Hall, her eyes darted about, looking for a flash of pale skin and blond hair.

"Looking for someone?" a low voice behind her asked, and without even seeing his face, she knew he was smirking.

"You prat," she said without rancor. The smirk widened into an almost grin, and he led the way to a room just next to the charms classroom.

Once the door was closed, he looked over at her with inquisitive gray eyes. She now noticed little, physical things that she hadn't last night, such as the fact he had to a grown a bit over the summer and that he was in need of a haircut. He surprised her by taking her hand and walking over to a window seat. She sat, but he didn't.

"I saw you looking at me during breakfast. Were you afraid that I would tell all the Slytherins about your nightmares?"

It shouldn't have surprised her that he had noticed her, or that he had correctly assumed that she wouldn't trust him. After all, he had said just last night that he wouldn't trust himself in the same situation. What did surprise her was how much it angered her.

"Of course not! And I wasn't looking at you any more than I usually do!" She made to stand and leave, but he blocked her way.

"You never look at me, Ginny," he said, his voice almost, but not quite vulnerable. There was still a guarded edge as always, but something made her feel almost ashamed.

"I knew you wouldn't tell," she said, her anger already dissipating as quickly as it had come. "I just...."

"You don't have to tell me." She had to admit that she found this rather rich, as she hadn't been quite certain just what she was going to tell him in the first place. She felt bad about denying her fears, unfounded as they obviously were. It made her feel low to lie about something so trivial.

"Will you come again tonight?" His eyes were positively boring into hers, and yet the rest of his face remained impassive. She felt as if she were going to melt.

"Yes."

His expression scarcely changed, and yet she knew that he was relieved that she had agreed. Quickly, almost clumsily, or as clumsily as Draco Malfoy could he kissed her forehead lightly and left the chamber as she stared after him. The door latched behind him, she put her hand to her temple and almost as quickly took it away.

"Get a grip, girl," she muttered, quite glad that he hadn't stuck around to see her rather extraordinary blush.

***

Harry and Hermione goggled as Ron shoveled forkful after forkful of breakfast into his mouth. Prying his eyes off the spectacle before him, Harry turned to Katie Bell, the sole Gryffindor Chaser remaining from the Championship team of two years ago.

"Katie, I heard you got a new broomstick this summer. Is it a Firebolt?"

Katie looked downright contrite. "No, my father said it was silly to spend that amount of money on a broomstick." Katie was half and half, meaning her father was a Muggle and her mother a witch. Her father was the coach of the U-Castle United, a Muggle Soccer team, and often didn't understand the many codicils of Quidditch.

"I suppose I can't complain too much," she went on, putting her chin on her hand and staring up at the bright blue ceiling. "It is a Nimbus Two-Thousand and One. I just would have loved a Firebolt."

"Did you hear?" Fred asked, plunking himself on the other side of Harry. "Malfoy got one over the summer. He's gunning for you now, mate."

George sat next to Hermione. "Smarmy git," he said, reaching across Hermione's plate to grab a croissant. Harry looked over to the Slytherin table, expecting to see Malfoy basking in the reflective glory of the best broom in the world. All he did notice was Malcolm Baddock in a conference with the rest of his team, sans Malfoy.

"Won't do him any good," George said confidently, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth. "You're still the best Seeker in the school. I bet you'd beat Viktor Krum if you two went head to head!" Harry grinned.

"Cheers, George. See you at the pitch after dinner."

Harry, Hermione and Ron began the trek down to the dungeons, with Ron still chewing on a kipper he had grabbed right before they had left the table.

"Ron, should you really be eating this much with the tryouts tonight?" Hermione said, with an air of hopelessness, as she knew it would do no good to tell Ron what to do.

"Gotta.... keep.... my...." he said between bites, taking the good grace to swallow before speaking again, "strength up. Don't worry, I won't throw up." He gave her a grin.

"I simply don't understand it," Hermione began, shaking her head at Ron. "You practically gorge yourself before Quidditch, while you," she turned to Harry, "Starve yourself. It doesn't make any sense!"

Harry grinned at her. "To each his own, Hermione." He looked down at his new watch, which Sirius had given him for his birthday. It was very similar to a clock he had seen at the Burrow, as it not only told the time, but also helpful information such as 'Late to Astronomy, Hurry Up!' and 'Hogsmeade Weekend! Don't Forget The Chocolate Frogs!' that changed as events dictated. "Come on. We don't want to be late."

Ahead of them they noted Malfoy, hands in his pockets and face impassive, heading up the staircase towards the potions. Conspicuously absent from either side of him were Crabbe and Goyle.

"That's odd. I think that may be the first time in five years I've seen him without those two," Hermione commented.

"One of a handful, that's for certain," Harry said, watching Malfoy with distrust.

"Oh, who really cares," Ron said, swallowing the last of his breakfast. "So the Ambiguously Gay Duo isn't sulking around the Ferret. Even they had to wise up sometime. The prat was bound to hack off the only two people in the school who could stand him."

At that instant, Malfoy turned around on the staircase and looked at them. It wasn't a glare, yet it wasn't free of malice either. Like so many things lately, it was hard to interpret. After a moment, he turned back around and walked up the staircase, out of sight.

Ron looked over at the other two a bit skittishly. "You don't suppose he heard me, do you?" If it had been anyone other than Ron speaking about anyone other than Malfoy, there might have been apology mixed with regret in his voice, but all Harry noticed was that Ron only looked mildly afraid at the possibility that if Draco had heard him, Crabbe and Goyle might do a little dance on his face later.

"Oh, don't be silly, Ron," Hermione said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "He's too far away. And besides, I don't think we should talk about him anyway."

Harry and Ron gawked at her.

"Oh, come on," she said irritably. "He may be a prat with far too much money and the ego the size of the North Tower, but all that can't make up for his father, now can it?"

Harry shrugged. "You've got a point. That guy makes the Dursleys look tolerable. Come on," he said, hurrying his steps a bit. "Snape will hang us by our thumbs if we're late."

***

Draco Malfoy was seething. He had passed the point of irritation, and was now going for total and complete paralysis with hatred. How dare those three talk about him! Weasely wouldn't be able to whisper if his life depended on it, and his name floating up to him on the stairs made him furious. It was bad enough that they were talking about him behind his back now that he was theoretically on their stupid side, but the look of pity on that Granger's face....

Impressive, he thought to himself, allowing himself a smirk as his anger deflated. Didn't call her a Mudblood, even in my thoughts. Did someone switch off some part of my brain this summer? What is going on with me? Draco couldn't help but wonder. Humiliation was a powerful tool; if he had learned anything from his father that was one lesson that had stuck. But something else had to be at work here. People didn’t just renounce the truths they hand clung to their entire lives over night, did they?

Walking into Defense Against The Dark Arts, Draco looked up at the front of the classroom and saw some of the more 'lackadaisical' of the Slytherins speaking animatedly with Professor Figg.

Pansy was sitting in the center of the classroom with Millicent and Blaise, all three shooting daggers in his general direction. He couldn't care less. Noting that Crabbe and Goyle were sitting just behind them, he allowed himself to nod in their direction, and then took a seat in the very back of the classroom. He hardly heard Professor Figg say that they were going to start their study of the Failte, or pretty much anything else she said during the class. He sat there, wondering if Ginny would actually show tonight, and why it mattered so much if she didn't.

***

Sirius and Mudungus sat in the tower room Dumbledore had assigned to Mudungus for his use during the school year, waiting for the lunch bell to ring. Not two minutes after it did....

"Mudungus! I am so...." Arabella came literally crashing through the door, and fell over a bag near the entry. She landed most conveniently.

"Oof!" Sirius couldn't help grinning, however.

"Now why don't beautiful women just fall into my lap?" Mudungus Fletcher, the small, unassuming man who was one of the few true Seers in the world, sat with a benign smile on his face, watching the rather comical episode unfold before him.

"Fletch!" Arabella hopped off of Sirius's lap and Mudungus smiled at the use of his old school nickname. "I am so sorry about last night! I got...."

"Please," he said, still smiling but holding up a hand to silence her. "Sirius has already been kind enough to fill me in on the only details I want to know about your reconciliation." The two shared a hug, then Mudungus summoned over his tea service.

"Don't worry," Professor Fletcher went on, doling out the proper combinations of milk and sugar, which Arabella was touched that he still remembered. "Jane, Minerva and I had a fine time at the Three Broomsticks. I didn't even realize Rosmerta still worked there! We sat up quite a good while, just talking. Oh yes," he added as an afterthought, his face twisting into dislike. "Snape was there too."

Sirius scowled, and much to Arabella's surprise put his hand on hers. She didn't realize just how much she had missed little things like a brief bit of physical contact.  

"Manky git tried to get me arrested a few years back," Sirius said, releasing her hand to reach for a crumpet. "But I suppose you already know that. Did they ever try to get you to tell them where I was?"

Mudungus assumed an amused expression, one frighteningly similar to Dumbledore’s when he was up to something. "I'm not at liberty to say. However, if you were to guess that the Ministry paid some ridiculously high fees and then spent several months searching the Norwegian fjords for an escaped criminal such as yourself, well, you wouldn't be far off, would you?"

Arabella laughed while Sirius leaned across the table. "You sent them to Norway?"

Mudungus smiled serenely. "Even we Seers aren't always perfect."

The door just then opened to admit Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, two Gryffindor Fifth Years who had somewhat revered the former Divination Professor, and, from the looks on their faces they were set to do the same with her successor.

"Are you Professor Fletcher?" Lavender asked eagerly, her blonde pigtails bouncing as she positively shook with anticipation. Arabella noted that next to her, Sirius had already turned again into a dog. She had the distinct feeling that the two girls wouldn't have noticed the Azkaban escapee if he had been naked and playing limbo with a bunch of elves singing crude songs.  

"Mudungus, I do believe it's time for Snuffles and myself to leave," she said, putting a hand on the huge dog’s shaggy head. "See you at dinnertime?"

"I'll be there, but I doubt you'll make it." The mischievous look in his eyes belied his innocent tone.

Closing the door behind them, Arabella turned to the dog, noting the expression on his canine face then. It was amazing that a dog was capable of giving bedroom eyes. She shrugged.

"I hate it that he's always right."

***

Harry was doing his level best to stay awake in Professor Binn's History of Magic class, but as usual, the ghost teacher's monotone was as sleep inducing as a lullaby. Even Hermione beside him, normally so attentive in class wore a familiar glassy-eyed look. Ron, sitting on his other side was snoring.

He didn't hear Binns rambling about the Convocation of the Seers in 1486, or the fact that at any given time there were only four in the world. He was falling farther and farther into sleep....

In his dream, there was no Voldemort, or Wormtail, or cataclysmic decimation of the wizardry population. Instead, there was Cho.

Cho stood before him, smiling invitingly, yet out of reach. He moved towards her, and she moved back without taking a step. He tried again, with the same result. Suddenly, he caught up with her. When he reached out to grab her in his arms, she vanished, and he realized with a howl of distress that she was just an illusion....

"Harry!"

He was awake again, his eyes traveling from Ron to Hermione and then to the rest of the class. The looks of horror on their faces, even Professor Binn’s, were identical. He must have screamed in his sleep, and now they all thought he had a vision of the Dark Lord. How ironic.

"Harry," Hermione said again, her dark brown eyes overbright, "Are you alright?"

"Is it your scar again?" Ron asked in an undertone. "Do you need me to go with you to the Hospital Wing?"

"No," Harry said weakly, feeling like a giant prat. "No, it's nothing. I'm fine. I'm fine!" he said a little louder for the benefit of the class. Professor Binns, still looking a bit shaken, even for a ghost, took his place at the front of the classroom.

"Well, class," he said in his wheezy voice. "I think we'll end it there for today." He took his ghostly briefcase and exited the classroom through the chalkboard.

The Gryffindors sat in shock. That was the first time in memory that Professor Binns had ever let a class out before the bell.

***

Harry had spent the majority of the afternoon dodging questions from all quarters about his nightmare. Even Professor McGonagall had come up to him at Dinner asking if he felt up to Quidditch tryouts tonight. He couldn't ever remember being more embarrassed in his life, and that included the time Dudley and his friends had de-pantsed him during school and thrown him into the Lunch Hall in his underwear.

Heading down to the pitch just after Dinner, Harry was glad to see that neither Fred, George nor Katie were apt to harangue him about what had happened in History of Magic, as they were all far too excited about the tryouts. He noted Hermione in the stands, her head stuck in a book, but she did look up and smile at him. At dinner, she had told both he and Ron that she was only coming because she was the only one who knew any medical magic and would be there to patch them up when they inevitably hurt themselves. Ron had thanked her for her overwhelming vote of confidence, while Harry had merely laughed and privately agreed with her.

The pitch already had a few Gryffindor hopefuls, who were milling about with broomsticks in hand. Harry was thankful that he had the extraordinary luck to not have had to try out for the team, because he could see just how nervous everyone was. He was nervous as well, but that was due to the fact he didn't relish the idea of telling people they didn't make the team.

The Twins and Harry were to put the Chasers through their paces, while Katie handled the Keepers. There were a good deal more Chasers than Keepers, and the fact that Ron was trying out as Keeper made this arrangement the most logical. Harry felt tense for Ron's chances, as some of the people he was going up against were seventh years, but Ron for his part, looked utterly at ease. Ginny had come down to the pitch as well, and was now sitting with Hermione in the stands. Even from such a distance, Harry could see that Ginny still looked drawn and pale.

"All right, you guys!" Fred yelled to the crowd on the ground near the North End of the pitch. "Listen up! I want you into four groups of three, and lined up behind Forge here."

"That's right, Fred," George said, not even cracking a smile. "On my signal, you're going to do some basic formations, then try to get the Quaffle past ol' Gred here. A word of caution is in order. My brother is not only one of the best beaters in the damned country...."

"Along with you, good sir," Fred said, turning slightly pink around the ears.

"…But he's also a hell of a Keeper," George continued. "If it wasn't for the fact that we just really like hitting things with clubs, he'd probably have ended up as that instead. He's no pushover! All right then? Line up!"

Harry watched as Seamus Finnegan, Colin Creevy and Dean Thomas took to the air. Harry knew for a fact that Dean had no interest in Quidditch, and was only trying out because Seamus was too nervous to go it alone. However, he was a good flyer, and while not excellent in Quaffle handling, he definitely had some potential. Colin was excellent as well. Even though he was only a Fourth year and a Muggle-born, his flying was superb. Seamus was first-rate as well. He was glad that he didn't have to make these decisions alone.

An hour later, after all the hopeful had headed back up towards Gryffindor Tower, Katie, Fred, George and Harry stood in the middle of the pitch to begin the task of choosing their team.

"Katie, what do you have? Any sure-fire one in the lot?" Fred asked.

"Truthfully, and I know you'll be glad to hear this," she said, smiling at the three of them, "Ron is by far the best in the group. He actually blocked over half my shots! I have to practice...."

They all laughed, then turned to the notes Harry and George had taken while Fred was in the air. "Well, I think that Finnegan is a given," George said while Harry and George nodded distractedly. "I have to admit, I like Creevy, and he's a good flyer, but he might make a better Keep later on. When it comes right down to it I'm a torn between Zelda and Nelson for the other slot what do you two think?"

Harry was the first to speak up. "I think Nelson's a good flyer, but he's only a fourth year and this might not be the position for him. He'd make a much better Beater than a Chaser, honestly. I say Zelda."

George nodded. "She's got a lot of potential, that one," he said, looking over to his teammates. "Katie, that also means that you won't be the only girl, either."

"Oh yes," Katie said, rolling her eyes. "Because that is so important to me. Good grief!"

"It's settled then?" Fred said, finally cracking a grin. "That's great! Let's get up there and enjoy the squirming that everyone will be doing before we post it!"

"Ooh! Let me write it!" Katie said, almost squeaking. "Of course, if it's not absolutely perfect, I may have to rewrite it five, say six times!"

George sidled up to her and put his arm around her. "Did I ever tell you, Miss Bell, that I love you?"

Fred laughed. "Come! Let us slowly head up to the tower. Only one step every thirty seconds.... one.... two.... three...."

Harry shook his head and watched and Ron, Ginny and Hermione rushed over to him. Ron, so calm before and during the tryouts, now looked a horrible shade of puce.

"Harry, look, mate" Ron babbled, his eyes darting from Harry to Fred and George and back again. "I know that you can't tell me, so I won't ask. Ok, maybe I will ask. No I won't. I will. I won't"

He most likely would have continued in this vein for quite some time if it hadn't been for Harry grabbing him by the shoulders and laughing.

"Look, you overgrown prat, you made it." Ron looked up. A smile broke out on Harry's face. "You made it, Ron."

Harry and company watched as the puce was quickly replaced by white and then by bright red. "I did? Harry! That's.... honestly, I made it!" He picked up his sister around the middle in quite a bear hug and then did a little dance around the pitch. Hermione and Ginny positively howled with laughter, while Harry went over to calm him down.

"Now, you go up there and act anxious while they write up the list. I don't want to get us both extra practice or something."

Ron and Harry, both grinning from ear to ear, headed back up the front steps, singing the slightly ruder version of the Gryffindor fight song Fred and George had made up privately during one of Oliver Wood's more boring tactics lectures two years ago. Hermione, shaking her head, followed behind them, muttering something about boys and their utter lack of intelligence.

Ginny stood still, watching as always as Ron and Harry both turned around and ran beside Hermione singing the last and most crude verse, then grabbed her by the waist and lifted her high into the air. It used to bother her that she would always just be the little sister, looking in, and to a certain extent, it still did. It was always hard to be on the outside looking in. Of course, having a secret of her own helped quite a bit. She was certain that if her brother knew she was secretly meeting Draco Malfoy at night room, that atrocious shade of puce would return to his face faster than you could say 'dungbomb'.

***

Remus Lupin sat, glad that the moon had waned enough for him to study tonight rather than search for fleas, pouring over a piece of parchment that was covered with what appeared to be runic text. Therein lay the problem.

"My goodness, it was windy in the tower tonight. Any luck?" asked a voice from the doorway. Jane Sinistra, her hair flying every which way and her cheeks decidedly pink sat down across the table from him. Remus smiled, a sort of wistful smile and pushed the parchment over towards her.

"You know, I'm quite certain that this is simply a Zonko's product or something. I know that the symbols change on me when I'm not looking." She took the parchment and laughed.

"No, I think locking yourself in a room for hours on end is doing that to you, actually. You need to get out of this room, Remus," she said almost severely, as if scolding one of the boys in her classes for pointing the telescope the wrong way.

"Oh yes, because there is no way any of the students are going to recognize me from their studies two years ago. That's hoping for a bit much, don't you think?"

Jane set the parchment on the table, leaned over and gave him a piercing glare. He had always privately wondered if she was related Dumbledore from the way she could stare people down like that. "Haven't you noticed that not one student, not even Harry Potter has come up to you to say hello or ask what you are doing here?"

Remus sat; mildly dumbfounded that he hadn't noticed anything of the sort.

She leaned back, a self-satisfied smirk resting on her lips. Remus was immediately reminded of their days at Hogwarts when she would give him that same look in Advanced Arithimancy, when she knew the answer and he did not. It was utterly Ravenclaw, that look, and he had grown to hate it. Right now, though, it just made him laugh.

"Alright, Sinistra, spill it. What has Dumbledore done to me without my knowledge this time?"

She primly transfigured a spare quill on the table into a cup of tea and sipped. "He put you behind a glamour, silly boy," she said, using her childhood name for anyone a year younger than her. He could never forget the look on James face when she had called him that at a meeting of the Resistance years before funny how simple thoughts like that could still be so painful.

"Glamour? Don't tell me he made me into a woman...."

"You idiot," she said, smiling in an affectionate way. "No, I believe you are simply a mild-mannered, middle-aged man who nobody can be bothered to take a second glance at. Kind of makes you glad to be on our side, hm?" Taking another quill, Remus made a cup of tea for himself.

"Quite. Now if only Dumbledore could put Voldemort behind a Muggle glamour. The shame alone would most likely kill him."

Jane took the parchment from the table. "I wish I could be of help with this, but I never was a good study with Ancient Runes." Remus snorted with derision.

"That was because you were too busy flirting with Amos Diggory," he said, enjoying the look of utmost horror on her face.

"You take that back, Remus Lupin!" she screeched, her face now more pink with embarrassment than before with windburn. "We were merely study partners!"

"You know, James and I were study partners in that class, and I'm pretty certain that we didn't 'study' in the same manner you two did.... Lily would have been furious."

"Oh, hush, you," she said, sticking her tongue out at him in a most childish way. "What are you going to do about this? It isn't as if we can simply say 'oh well' and forget about it!"

"I know that," Remus replied, his voice metered the way it always was when an idea was coming to him. "I think.... yes.... I think it's time to call out the new recruits."

***

Finite Incantium!