Replay

Replay

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Chapter Twenty-Five

In from the Cold

Narcissa Malfoy surveyed Blaise Zabini with bloodshot eyes; he could tell that she'd been drinking, and therefore drinking alone. He didn't blame her; it was unlikely that he would be able to withstand the forced jollity of Christmas as a middle-aged widow with a son in prison and a reputation for skirting the law.

"You're going to get my son out of prison? How?" She seemed to be making an effort not to slur her words and was largely succeeding. Blaise began to suspect that this would be easier than he'd previously thought. "Or better still--why you are so interested in breaking him out of prison after ten years?"

Blaise smiled as charmingly as he could and gestured toward the archway that led to the drawing room. "I'd be happy to explain, but could we sit? I'm afraid this may take a little while." She raised an eyebrow and turned on her heel, leading him wordlessly. Her robes were cinched at the waist and he smiled as he followed her, eyes fixed on her bum; it was rather a nice one, especially for a woman who was going on fifty. He didn't mind the view at all.

They sat on a couch near the hearth and Blaise turned to her, wondering whether she would move away, due to his having sat next to her, rather than on the opposite couch. "You'd like to know what's in it for me?" he asked her. She gave no response apart from raising that one eyebrow another fraction of an inch. "I'll tell you--what's in it for me is power without the responsibility to be a figurehead. That's your son's role, I hope. There's power to go with that too, of course. But now he's got none of the power and I don't have enough. Or rather, I need more information. That's where you come in."

"Information? What information would I have about making my son the new Dark Lord? That is what you are saying you intend to do?" she asked.

"Yes. That is my intention. I've thought about it rather idly for years, but a few months ago a newspaper headline made me remember something about a spell Draco told me, and I've been looking--fruitlessly--for a book with that spell ever since. I've come to the conclusion that the book must be here."

She snorted. "A book? That is why you're here?" She swept her hand around the room. "As you can see from the empty shelves I've sold most of the books. Even if Draco once read something in a book here I doubt that it is here still..."

"You sold all of the books? Even the ones under your drawing room floor?" He eyed the Persian carpet in the centre of the room. Most other decoration had been stripped from the chamber; the carpet had the air of an afterthought, a refugee remaining after the rest of the population had fled. Dust lay thickly on the mantel; dark rectangles on the painted panelling showed where art had once hung. The flat winter light entering through the tall, curtainless windows made the room seem even more forlorn.

She stood, her fingers fumbling nervously at her robes. "Who sent you? I have no contraband, nothing." Her voice shook with fear.

He tried to turn on the charm again. "Mrs Malfoy, I am not here to entrap you. The things Draco told me were here are too dangerous to sell," he said, nodding at the floor. "The Ministry watches those who might be interested in buying them. I have not been able to find what I need to know anywhere else. If you'd like your son to be the next great Dark Lord--and to share in that power--all you need to do is let me see the remaining books in your possession." He smiled at her, waiting for a response; he wasn't above using Imperius but he preferred for her to help him of her own accord. Many wizards were capable of overcoming Imperius, given enough time. He wanted her to be willing and fully participatory. He sensed her neediness, on many levels, and knew that his responsiveness would also appeal to her on many levels.

She sat again, her features more relaxed, but in a defeated way, not as though she were comfortable and at ease. "Before you see a single thing I want to know--how will you do it?"

"Well, that's assuming that I find what I am looking for..."

"Yes, yes, I understand that," she said impatiently, her eyes darting around restlessly. "And if you please, what was this headline that jogged your memory?"

He smiled and leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. "Harry Potter had a son when he was only sixteen. With a Muggle woman who used to be his teacher."

She snorted. "That's it? I read that, and it did not say to me, 'Oh, now my son can be the next Dark Lord.' How will that give Draco the power he needs?"

He was unmoved by her scorn. "It won't. Draco spoke once of a spell his father threatened him with... A spell to absorb the power of a magical child. He threatened Draco with it when he displeased him, but Draco said that they were idle threats, that his father was bluffing..."

Narcissa snorted again. "He also knew that I'd have killed his father if he touched a hair on Draco's head." Then she froze and clamped her mouth shut, making Blaise wonder whether she wished that she had been the one to kill Lucius Malfoy.

"Yes, well, Draco said that his father planned to use the spell on Potter so that the Dark Lord could kill him. His father finally showed him the book with the spell and its theory--he didn't think it safe to entrust this to Draco when he was younger. He watched his father cast the spell on Potter at the Ministry--and then, when it didn't work and Potter still had his powers--"

"--he watched the Dark Lord kill his father," she whispered tonelessly, staring at her hands.

"And now we know why," Blaise pressed on; he didn't have time for her wallowing.

She looked up, frowning. "Why what?"

"Why it didn't work. I'd always thought that the flaw was with the spell, that it was a hoax, written into a spell book to fill up space. But when I read that headline, I remembered something Draco told me. About why he was looking for a girl--any girl--to shag..."

She grimaced. "Must I listen to this? He was a teenager. Did he need a reason?"

"Yes," he said, not caring about her discomfort. "The spell didn't work on Potter because it can only be used to take a child's power. Someone who is still pure in soul and body..."

"A virgin," she said, nodding.

"Now that we know about Potter's bastard we know why it didn't work. The problem was Potter. But that headline gave me another idea: wouldn't it be poetic justice to take the power of the child who prevented your husband from taking Potter's power? Wouldn't your son be a perfect candidate for casting the spell on Potter's son?"

She leaned back, looking bored. "That's it? He is to become the new Dark Lord on the strength of taking one little boy's power?"

"There will be others as well. Harry Potter has two daughters with his wife and it was just in the Prophet that she is expecting another child. And the daughters have cousins... There are a number of children of Draco's enemies who can provide the power to create the next great Dark Lord. Of course, that power can be supplemented by other children as well, but I think Draco will get great pleasure from taking the power of those children specifically..."

She crossed her arms. "There's still the problem of breaking him out of prison..."

"That's not a problem," he said with a wave of his hand.

"Not a problem? Just because Aurors guard Azkaban now instead of Dementors--"

"It's still not a problem. I've worked that out. The problem is finding the spell."

She narrowed her eyes. "How do you know it would have worked if Potter had been a virgin?"

He sidestepped this question by asking her, "If you'd been inclined toward shagging any of the boys in your son's year, would you have chosen Harry Potter, of all people?" He looked at her very directly. She smirked; he knew without her saying a word that he was definitely 'in.' In more ways than one.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Severus Snape was livid. He stormed into the kitchens, steam practically coming out of his ears as he regarded the small figures flitting about him. Three elves almost immediately stood to attention before him, wearing the uniform adopted for Hogwarts house elves since Hermione Granger had successfully campaigned for their freedom. They looked like small, wizened bell boys for a magical hotel. Their matching purple jackets and shorts, trimmed with gold braid and the Hogwarts seal over the heart, did not suit the work they were doing in the kitchens at all.

"Professor Snape, sir!" one of the elves wheezed shrilly. "Would sir like some pumpkin pasties?" An elf held a platter before him heaped with steaming pasties, their crusts a perfect golden brown. He knocked the tray out of the elf's hands, sending the pasties flying.

"Which of you did it? I specifically gave instructions to the headmistress, which she gave to you cretins, that while my son is staying at the castle none of the meals are to include peanuts. Not a single peanut Yet what do I find in my son's room when I inspect it a mere half-hour before he is due to arrive? Toffee-coated peanut crunch. Why? Did you think he might like to kill himself as a treat? If he so much as breathes in the scent of peanuts he can go into shock. And you do not wish to learn what I will do if that occurs."

The elves scrambled to pick up the pasties while he turned on his heel and left. He strode up the stairs to the entrance hall, then kept on until the fourth floor; he passed a corridor leading to some classrooms and staff offices, going to a quiet, disused wing where the headmistress had permitted him to create a suite for Penelope and Julian, another for himself (to be nearer to Julian than his usual quarters permitted) and yet another for Tilda Harrison.

After letting himself into Tilda's suite he looked around approvingly at the sitting room, resisting the urge to check on the bedroom. At first he was simply going to have their four rooms adjoining the same sitting room but on reflection he decided that it could be awkward to have Penelope and Tilda sharing a common room, and that if only Tilda's suite was separate from the quarters for him, Penelope and Julian, Tilda (and Penelope) could get the entirely erroneous impression that he still harboured intentions toward Penelope.

He was surprised by how much he did not want Tilda to think this. He'd once thought that if Penelope would change her mind they might live, at last, as a 'normal' family. But Penelope, for all of her physical delicacy, had a will of iron when she chose to exercise it. Even when she ceded power she never truly ceded it; if she temporarily chose to appear as though she had it was still her decision, and one she could take back at any moment....

He sat silently beside Nate, who did not betray any response to the video. His mother had given him his tea and the boy was only to stay up until nine-thirty, while the film he'd chosen would not end until eleven, but Severus did not think it would harm the boy to stay up a little later on a Friday. When he was the same age no one monitored his bedtimes and it did him no harm. No, that was not the danger to him when he was a boy...

Nate did his best to stay awake; although Severus actually found the tale of a boy and his horse quite compelling Nate was snoring softly by ten-thirty. Severus carried Nate to his bed, in a corner of the living room. His 'room' was defined by creative use of a wardrobe and two bookshelves, concealed on the other side by more shelves. He thought grumpily that if she used magic she could have better living conditions, despite the high cost of London flats. Her son could have a proper room.

He watched the end of the film, having nothing else to do and not being interested in Muggle books and magazines. As he turned off the television and checked the time he heard a noise in the corridor; he went to the door to listen and found that he could see into the corridor through a small magnifier set into the wooden door. He heard Penelope's voice before he saw her. She'd been leaning against the door so that Severus had a grotesque up-close view of her date's ear as he, presumably, kissed Penelope good night. However, he did not seem to mean for it to be the end of the date. Penelope shoved him away sharply. "I told you that I could see myself home..."

"But it's the end of our date!" Cyril whinged.

"This date was over two hours ago, Cyril. How many times do I need to tell you that?"

"Oh, bollocks, are you telling me that you, a single mum, are going to pass up a good shag because of politics? Look, I'm sorry I said--"

"Only because you've been caught out! Listen, how many ways can I say NO?"

Severus was looking straight into Cyril's eyes now, although Cyril did not know this; he slipped his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the door, which he knew would not stop the spell, and whispered the incantation that would allow him to learn Cyril's true intentions...

Penelope, on a bed, clothes open and askew; Cyril, lying on top of her, grunting...

He put his wand away and without further consideration flung open the door, glaring at Cyril. He pushed him, sending him sprawling against the opposite wall, and pulled Penelope into the flat, placing himself between them. "You need to pay better attention. She said that the date is over. Please leave," he said in a quiet growl. He clenched his fists.

Cyril managed to stand again but backed away from the door. "Here, now, there's no cause to--wait a minute," he said, as if realising suddenly that he was speaking to some infinitely insignificant person; "why should I care what you say? Who the hell are you anyway?"

Severus took a step backward and fixed Cyril with a hostile gaze. "I am the babysitter," he said crisply, slamming the door in Cyril's blank, staring face.

"Professor Snape!" Severus turned as he closed the door to Tilda's suite; Harry Potter strode down the corridor toward him, his hair standing on end. Severus considered turning around again and pretending he hadn't heard him.

"Everything ready?" Harry asked anxiously. "Teddy's nervous about his mum coming back, after September." He reddened. "He's also been anxious to talk to her. Every weekend he's been with us since October he's tried to call her on our mobiles and hasn't been able to get her."

Severus turned and started walking; Harry jogged to catch up him. "I am afraid," he said reluctantly, "that that may be my fault..."

"May be your fault? Is it or isn't it? And wait a minute--your fault? How would it be yours? And that may be the first time I've ever heard you take blame for anything," he added, following Severus closely as he stepped into Penelope and Julian's suite.

"You may recall my mentioning my son to you?" Severus said as he sped up to cross the sitting room, forcing Harry to do likewise to keep up with him.

"I remember," Harry said, frowning. Severus relished his confusion but continued.

"I seem to have been visiting with my son on the same weekends that your son has visited you." He opened the door to Julian's room, wallpapered with small dragons and hippogriffs by the Hogwarts house elves. "During the first visit in October..." He hesitated, backing out of the room again and closing the door firmly. Severus did not want to discuss this with Harry Potter, of all people. For one thing he did not care to admit that he'd had a difficult time entertaining Julian since his brother had gone off to school. He'd never realised the extent to which Nate had taken it upon himself to amuse Julian when he'd taken the pair of them for the weekend. He'd tried the usual activities, the zoo (it was a nightmare to protect him from the smell of peanuts, and Julian always complained that he wanted to see elephants), a football game (which he disdained now that he knew about Quidditch) and the cinema (he wanted to return to Diagon Alley, last seen when they'd shopped for Nate's school things).

Severus had utterly forgotten about the robes he'd left at Latere Farm in the form of a tweed jacket until Tilda Harrison wrote to remind him that they were still there. Struggling as he was to schedule activities for the following weekend with Julian and steeling himself to withstand another two days of demands that they do something magical (which Penelope had expressly forbidden), he allowed himself to vent his frustration in his reply to her. In return he received a note saying simply, Bring Julian to Latere Farm on Saturday morning. You can get your jacket back and I think I may have a way to amuse your son for the day. Perhaps longer.

Severus told Julian not to tell his mother that they'd taken the Knight Bus. (Now that his son knew that he was a wizard he was damned if he was going to continue to mess about with Muggle transportation.) They walked down the drive to the house and found her waiting for them wearing jodhpurs and riding boots, holding the reins of two tame-looking piebald horses. He'd been amazed that Julian, who seemed to have forgotten how to laugh or smile since his brother had gone to Hogwarts, was soon grinning with glee as he got Minnie to canter, following Tilda around the paddock. (She held a long rein connecting their horses as they rode.)

"Julian prefers doing--things--with his brother," Severus said slowly, still loath to admit this to Harry. "Since his brother came to Hogwarts--"

"Wait--you have another kid?" Severus stood still for only a moment, shook his head in disgust, then carried on, opening the door to the corridor again.

"I distinctly remember telling you that I was in the habit of taking both my son and his older brother--his half-brother--on weekend excursions."

"Oh, right. But you did not mention that he was at Hogwarts. I'd remember that," he added, a defensive whine in his voice.

"No, I did not mention that for a good reason." He stopped and faced Harry, an uncomfortable guilty sensation making him feel irked. "There is something about my son's mother--and her older son's father--that I have not told you."

Harry stopped and looked at him expectantly. "Actually, there are a lot of things you haven't told me, but I haven't noticed that my joining the staff has made you want to share everything about your private life with me," he said grumpily.

Severus drew his lips into a line. "Well, we share something now. In a way. Nate might as well be my stepson, when all is said and done, even though his mother did not marry me, and--"

"Wait. Nate? Nate who?" Severus watched while Harry's eyes moved rapidly; it was odd that he'd never before realised that it was possible to see Harry thinking. "Wait--Nate Clearwater? He's your son's brother?"

"Yes, he is my son's brother," he said levelly. "But more pertinent is the identity of his father."

Harry frowned again. "Yeah, who is his father? Or was. At the beginning of the term Ginny said that she asked him whether his dad was Muggle-born. He said he wasn't. She thought he might be related to her brother's old girlfriend, but he said his dad was a wizard, so she reckoned it was some other Clearwater family--" Severus waited for Harry to catch up. "Wait a minute," Harry said slowly; "who is your kid's mother?"

Severus sighed. "Penelope Clearwater. She is coming back to Hogwarts for the first time in years. And she is concerned because--"

"--because bloody hell, Nate has his mum's name, not his dad's, and if his dad was a wizard, then--" He stopped. "Is his father who I think--?"

"Yes," was all Severus said, forcing himself to face Harry.

"Bloody hell," he said again, running his hands through his hair. "Ginny has been teaching her nephew since September And the girls' cousin!" He shook his head and then stared at Severus with wide eyes. "Molly! When she finds out she'll kill you for not telling her!"

Severus sighed with annoyance. "I have thought of that. Molly Weasley will no doubt be quite displeased to have been kept in the dark. It is not as though I did not urge Penelope to tell the Weasleys. I never thought it was right or proper for her to keep him from his family. But she had her reasons for doing so and I never tried to circumvent her wishes..."

Severus and Penelope stared at each other for a moment after he'd closed the door on Cyril; then Penelope leaned against the wall, covering her mouth and shaking with laughter. Tears came to her eyes, she was laughing so hard. He didn't realise that he had been smiling until she was breathing normally, looking up at him with a bemused expression.

"I've never seen you do that before," she said in wonder, looking at him strangely.

"Do what?" He frowned.

"Not frown. Or look stern." She did not seem willing to actually characterise it as smiling. "Ah, there we go," she added with a sigh, the corner of her mouth twisting. "Back to normal."

She went to the small kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "I need a cuppa. You?"

"Yes, thank you," he replied, furrowing his brow at the same time that he wondered how not to do that constantly. As he sat at the small square table and she plugged in the electric kettle, he said, "Is there any point to reminding you that you are a witch?"

She still had the kettle in her hand; she lifted it and said, "You mean this? I never did like 'magical' tea even when I wasn't pretending to be a Muggle; it has a different taste when it's made the long way." She put the kettle down and turned away.

"No, I meant--that Muggle man. You do realise that if a witch used magic in self-defence against a Muggle that it is entirely likely that the Wizengamot would exonerate her?"

She stopped and leaned against the narrow dresser, a mug in each hand now. "Perhaps. Were you about to use magic on him if he didn't clear off?"

"Perhaps," he answered, echoing her, not caring to reveal that he had used Legilimency to determine Cyril's intentions. "It was unclear how--intractable--he might be. Simply having another person present seems to have driven him off, fortunately."

She sat next to him. "Somehow I don't think he would have left if you'd been my usual babysitter. He'd have told Abby to sod off, probably. And she'd have done it." She opened a tea tin and removed two bags. "Hope you don't mind, I generally don't keep loose tea around."

He almost felt the urge to smile again. "Let me guess--you studied Divination in school."

She snorted briefly. "I wonder whether she had invested in a business that made tea bags. If so, after putting so many people off loose tea she could have made a fortune."

"Ah, but that would assume that she had 'Seen' a future in tea bags," he countered.

"Well," Penelope responded, going to the kettle, "she correctly predicted one thing, didn't she?" Severus went silent at that, unable to prevent himself from seeing the Dark Lord in his mind's eye, and many other even more horrible things...

The abrupt silence that fell was broken only by the noise of the water being poured into the mugs. She withdrew the milk from the fridge, putting it on the table. Every sound echoed painfully in the small space--her chair scraping the floor, the sugar bowl being placed on the table, a drawer opening and closing, the clink of spoons. When they were drinking quietly Penelope broke the silence again. Severus wanted to do it but the longer it went on the more awkward he felt. It was also difficult to banish the images from his mind that had been conjured up by her words.

"I'm sor--" she started to say, then shook herself. "You know what you need?" she said instead. "Some good P.R. for Slytherin. I think a lot of people still think of it as the evil Dark Arts house, but you were on our side in the war. So were others. A lot of people don't know that."

"What is P.R.?" he asked, frowning again.

"Public relations."

He saw a slight smirk at the edge of her mouth. "Ah," he said, nodding. "I see. Well, it is true that many do not know that there are half-blood and even Muggle-born students in Slytherin."

"See? I didn't know that. About the Muggle-borns, I mean. Of course, even though you were--you were doing virtually the same thing that--that he was doing there was only a very small article in the Prophet, when all was said and done, and that was largely a list of names..."

Severus could tell that "he" was Percy Weasley. "How do you manage to hide magic when Nate sees his paternal grandparents?" he asked, giving her a moment to collect herself; speaking about Percy Weasley seemed to have brought her perilously close to tears. "That must be a challenge. Molly and Arthur were never very skilled at--" He stopped abruptly, seeing the guilt on her face. "He doesn't see them, does he?" he said astutely.

"He sees my parents. But--well, that's exactly why I was afraid of telling the Weasleys..."

He wanted to say that that was nonsense, she was more likely afraid that Molly would pass judgment on her, but after a moment's thought he decided that she was probably right to fear this. However, thinking about another little boy who'd been kept in the dark about his parentage, he said, "You should tell them. I know that you want to wait for him to know, but--"

"No," she said firmly. "When he gets his Hogwarts letter he'll find out everything..."

"So what are you going to do when Molly and Arthur come for Christmas tea?" Harry asked, clearly trying to restrain his glee.

"I am not going to do anything. Penelope is rather nervous, but she is planning to introduce Nate to his grandparents and apologise for their not having known about him." Severus did not want to tell Harry, but he was worried that Penelope would make some excuse at the last minute to stay away. He'd been carrying her secret around for seven years and no longer wished to do so. He had no particular love for the Weasleys but he did have a grudging respect for them; they'd sacrificed a great deal, including one of their sons, and he did not doubt that they would feel more than a little slighted by the news that he'd known about Nate and hadn't told them.

Harry shook his head; Severus could tell that he was trying not to smile. "I'm glad you find the prospect of your wife's mother throwing a fit amusing," he said, not sounding glad at all.

Harry grinned fully now. "Can I tell Ginny? And the girls? It won't be long before Molly and Arthur arrive here at the castle--maybe twelve or fifteen hours. She can keep a secret until then... And the girls will be excited to know that they have an older cousin who's a Hogwarts student."

"However," Severus said quickly, a warning in his voice, "you cannot tell Nate yet. Head of House or not. Penelope wants to do that herself tonight after she and Julian arrive."

Harry looked a little deflated. "Oh. Well, all right. If that's how she wants to do it." He turned as if to go, then turned around again. "Wait--what was Tilda up to all of those weekends when Teddy couldn't get her on the telephone? You said that it was your fault."

Severus had hoped Harry would forget that he'd asked about that, given the rather surprising news about Nate Clearwater, but he'd noticed that Harry Potter had an annoying habit of remembering everything one most hoped he would forget and forgetting whatever one would hope that he would recall. "As I said, Julian's brother usually amused him during outings; without him I found it more--difficult. He has also been quite insistent that he wishes to see and do things wizarding children would do, but his mother objects strongly to that. They live in the Muggle world and she has no plans to change that; she feels that he will be enmeshed in the wizarding world soon enough, after he comes to Hogwarts, and has asked me not to change the sort of things we do on the weekends just because he now knows about magic."

Harry raised his eyebrows, waiting. "And--?"

"And," Severus went on, "Miss Harrison invited us to her farm the first weekend in October. He enjoyed riding a horse and seeing the other animals. We have been going once a month." He didn't tell him that they'd been meeting Tilda elsewhere for outings on the other weekends.

Harry's jaw dropped. "What?"

Severus wished he hadn't told Harry anything at all. The look of jealousy about his eyes was unmistakable. Might I remind you that you are married? he thought. And that you supposedly do not even remember begetting your son? "Do you have something to say about my visits with my son?" Severus asked him pointedly, a challenge in his voice. He wasn't certain whether Harry was going to start throwing hexes around or just curse him verbally, but his colour was rapidly changing from his usual pallor to an unflattering lobster red.

"No," Harry said tersely. He turned abruptly and walked in the opposite direction, calling over his shoulder, "I'll see you tomorrow for tea," as though it were a challenge.

Severus also turned on his heel, swearing under his breath. As he passed a portrait, the old wizard in it chided him. "Language! Must set an example for the young ones!" Severus simply swore at him more vociferously, making the wizard cry out in alarm, "No wonder all of the young people are turning into such hooligans! Look at their role models!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harry was practically skipping when he entered their flat. Ginny sat by the fire, wrapping a Christmas gift. She was still very thin, being not quite two months pregnant. However, she was very excited about the new baby, even giving Ron an exclusive about it (in part so that Rita would not find out first), and when it ran in the Prophet it carried his by-line still. She looked up, smiling at him, humming what Harry still thought of as God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs, because Sirius had been singing it the Christmas that they were at Grimmauld Place.

"You look happy," she said, putting the wrapped gift under the tree. "Excited about Christmas at last? You've been so bored with the preparations that I thought you'd grown out of your youthful enthusiasm for it."

He grinned at her. "I just got my youthful enthusiasm back. You'll never guess what--"

"What?" But as Ginny turned her face up to him, smiling innocently, he suddenly faltered. He couldn't imagine that Ginny would think his desire to tell her mother about Nate a good thing....

His face fell. "Erm, well I was just talking to Snape."

"Are the rooms ready? For Tilda and his son and his mum?"

"Yeah," he said, although he didn't really know. "But that's not what we were talking about..."

"What were you talking about?"

"Well, see, um," he said, hesitating, now that he was faced with actually telling her. "Did--did Dumbledore ever tell you much about Percy?"

"Percy?" She looked confused. "Why were you and Severus discussing Percy?"

"Merry Christmas, Potters!" Suddenly Mad-Eye Moody's ghost came drifting through the wall; he wore ghostly holly on the brim of his bowler. Ginny turned to him, starting to smile again.

"Oh, hello, Alastor. Merry Christmas."

Harry sighed. Why was it that whenever he needed to talk to Ginny Moody had to interfere? It had been the same for twelve years. "Merry Christmas, Moody," Harry said wearily.

"Christmas Eve, Potter!" Moody grunted, perched on the mantel. "Try to look cheerful about it."

"Harry and I were talking, Alastor," Ginny explained to him gently. "For some reason, we were talking about my brother Per--"

"--person," Harry sputtered. "Her brother person." His voice had gone up an octave, it seemed. He was convinced that Moody specifically came into the room whenever they were discussing Percy so that he could put a stop to it. After so long it seemed strange that Moody should do this--and it wasn't even as though Percy came up in conversation very often--but Harry did not believe that Moody coming through the wall at just that moment was a coincidence.

"Her brother person?" Moody said sceptically.

"Erm, perhaps I should have said her brother people. They'll--they'll be coming tomorrow. For Christmas. You know. A time for family, all that."

Moody moved his ghostly bowler-hat so that it no longer concealed his ghostly magical eye. He examined Harry with the eye, making him shiver; if possible, it was worse to be examined with the eye now that Moody was dead than when the man was alive. "Brother people."

Harry smiled at him feebly, wishing he would disappear again. "Right. Brother people. And--and mother and father people," he added in a slightly squeaky voice.

Moody squinted at Harry. "Did you hit your head, Potter?"

"Erm," Harry said, not feeling any cleverer. He didn't want Moody to prevent him from telling Ginny what he wanted to tell her so he would have to try to find a way to do it without saying Percy's name. "Erm, I was just telling Ginny that her--her brother person was--was doing something similar to what I was evidently doing about twelve years ago..."

Ginny furrowed her brow for a moment and then opened her eyes wide. "Who--?"

"Hermione will be glad to see one of Snape's guests again," Harry said, also opening his eyes wide and looking toward the mantel. "The last time she saw this guest she felt rather stiff and you were indisposed, writing in your diary. I hope our drinking wine won't offend her; she may prefer clear water."

"You mean--" Ginny's mouth hung open in shock.

"I mean--" Harry nodded.

"That's all right, Potter," Moody said suddenly. "You can stop dilly-dallying around. I'll go before you rupture something while you try to speak in code." He drifted back through the wall again and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, followed by a snort of indignation.

"I was not dillying. Nor dallying. And I was not 'rupturing.'"

Ginny laughed. "Harry! Tell me! Why is Penelope Clearwater coming?" When he told her she was shocked. "Nate Clearwater? Penelope Clearwater and Percy's son?" Her mouth hung open again.

Harry nodded. "And Snape's son's brother."

"Mum will--"

"Yes, I expect so." Harry was finding it hard not to grin.

Ginny looked at him shrewdly. "And you were thinking of telling her tonight, weren't you?"

"Well..."

"Harry..."

"All right, I considered it. But Snape said she'd find out tomorrow, so I decided not to get involved. I told him I wanted to tell you and the girls and he didn't object. So I've told you."

"I don't want to wake the girls up, though. I reckon that can wait for the morning. It was hard enough to get them to bed, they were so excited..."

Harry threw himself into his armchair and stared into the fire. "To think, we've been teaching Percy's son since September..."

She smiled and crossed the room; perching herself on his knee and putting her arm around his neck, she said, "That explains his first name... I thought it was odd that he had such an unusual one. 'Nate' is usually short for 'Nathan.'"

"What d'you mean?"

"Oh, that's right! You weren't there for his Sorting. And I generally take care of reading off the names on the register at the start of lessons... Nate is short for Ignatius. It's Percy's middle name. But I rarely think about--about him these days." She ducked her head, as though feeling guilty about this. "And I don't think I was even aware of his middle name until--until the funeral. It didn't exactly come up in daily conversation."

Harry looked grim. "Even if I'd known that was his name I'm not sure I would have thought anything of it. I reckon I heard Percy's middle name when I had my hearing at the Ministry just before my fifth year. It didn't stick in my brain, though. I certainly wouldn't think, 'Oh, that kid has Percy Weasley's middle name, what's with that?' Some wizards give their kids some damn odd names, after all. Like Severus, for instance. And Draco," he added, snorting.

"And Remus and Sirius," she added, smirking.

Harry pouted. "Watch it. Two of my parents' best friends," he said, but the warning in his voice was playful, she could tell.

She tightened her hold around him. "I am watching it. Whatever 'it' is. I was just pointing out that it wasn't just done to people you don't like. How exciting! Oh, I know Mum will be miffed," she said, making Harry snort. "But it's lovely. Nate's a good boy, and he and Teddy are good friends. Teddy's his cousin! Almost."

"Step-cousin. We're certainly all in the family, eh?"

She patted her stomach for a moment. "Some of us are in the family way," she said mischievously. Harry groaned but she laughed. "You didn't mind working on that..."

He hugged her close to him and tilted her head down so he could kiss her cheek. "It was hardly work. And I still don't mind doing that..."

She glanced around the room. "Where's some mistletoe when you really need it?"

"Since when do we need mistletoe? Besides, it has bad associations for me," he said, grimacing. "And aren't you worried about Nargles?" he added, with a sly grin.

She gave him a smacking kiss. "Very funny. Of course, I noticed that the first time Luna got Ron under some mistletoe she wasn't saying a word about Nargles..."

"That's because he had his tongue down her throat, which is something I really don't want to think about, so thank you very much for reminding me about that event..."

"Maybe he was looking under her tonsils for Nargles," she countered, grinning. Harry guffawed; she stood and brushed her robes down. "Well, I think that's everything. Presents wrapped, we've talked to Moody and sent him packing by being incompetent at speaking in code--"

"I am not incompetent!" He pouted; quickly realising what he was doing, he tried to stop, albeit unsuccessfully.

She pulled him to his feet and put her arms around his waist. "No, you just have--particular talents. And being dishonest isn't one of the outstanding ones, fortunately."

He kissed her softly and then whispered. "Merry Christmas, Ginny. Would you like me to display one of my outstanding talents now?" She laughed and took his hand, leading him to their bedroom, which he decided to take as a 'yes.'

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Severus stood at the door to the castle. He was finding it a bit nerve-wracking that Tilda would be travelling with Penelope and Julian. They'd never met before; once when Julian wanted to call his mum, while they were at Latere Farm, Penelope had been in the middle of something and needed to call them back a few minutes later; when she did it was Tilda who'd answered. (Severus wondered how Teddy Harrison had failed to get her on the telephone over a half-dozen weekends in a row.) Tilda had mumbled something into the telephone before handing it wordlessly to Julian, who could be saying anything to his mother when he was back at home. Severus hoped it wasn't what he'd said to him during their last trip to Latere Farm.

Julian had asked his father whether he was going to ask Miss Harrison to marry him. He'd sputtered and said, "No, she isn't my girlfriend." It was the only answer he could think of.

Julian had shrugged and said, "So what? Okay, maybe you should ask her to be your girlfriend first. That's probably a good idea," he said sensibly in his thin, reedy voice, nodding his head.

Severus didn't know whether to laugh or feel incredibly depressed. Oh, yes, I'm just dying to ask someone else to marry me, because it went so well the last time I tried...

When Penelope stepped down from the carriage she gave Severus a strange look. Julian bounced out after his mother. "Dad! Stan let me sit with him while he was driving this time!"

Severus looked at Penelope, alarmed. Oh, bugger. Now she knows that I already took him on the bus. "Penelope," he began, but she shook her head.

"Not here," she hissed tersely. "After Julian is in bed I need to speak to you."

He nodded and then helped Tilda step down from the carriage; he saw Julian beaming at them and quickly took his hand from Tilda's as soon as he could. "Don't bother with your bags," he said, nodding at the carriage; "the house elves will bring them up."

"House elves?" Tilda said in surprise.

"Oh, boy! House elves!" Julian cried, bouncing up and down. Severus sighed. Penelope did not look happy. He didn't expect their talk to go very well.

They reached the fourth floor corridor, he showed Penelope and Julian to their quarters and led Tilda to her suite. To Tilda's surprise her bags were sitting in the bedroom, visible through a doorway. "Oh," she said. "When you said house elves would take care of it, you meant--"

"--that house elves would take care of it." A fire burned in the grate and a couch faced the fire; a tree stood a few feet away, glistening with crystalline ornaments singing Christmas carols.

"Thank you," she said, turning to him. "When is breakfast?"

"We usually gather in the Great Hall at eight o'clock, but the headmistress has set aside a separate hall for our meals due to the family nature of our large party. I will come for you at eight to show you the way. I expect now that you are quite tired from the journey, so..."

"Yes," she said. "I definitely need to lie down. Thank you again, Severus. Good night."

"Good night." Severus remembered Julian's words: You should ask her to be your girlfriend first. Did he want to do that? He hesitated at the door to the suite while she stood on the opposite side of the room, gazing out the window; when she turned she was startled.

"Oh! Is there something you wanted, Severus?"

Very good question. Is there something here that I want? Or someone?

"I just--good night," he said again, opening the door. "I'll see you in the morning."

When he'd closed the door he leaned heavily against it, wishing he knew his own mind. He usually did, but everything about Tilda Harrison was so complicated. Then the door to Penelope and Julian's suite opened opposite him and he felt his life's complications increase again.

"Severus? Julian would like to say good night to you." He breathed a little easier, realising that she was only asking him to do his fatherly duty; he wasn't being lectured yet.

"Of course," he said, nodding. Upon entering Julian's bedroom found him sitting up in his blue-curtained four-poster bed, beaming as he had been when he bounced out of the carriage.

"Dad!" he said with wide eyes as his father sat on the edge of the bed. "Mum did magic."

"All I did was to get him a cup of hot chocolate," she said, reddening.

"And have you seen our Christmas tree?" he demanded.

"Seen it?" Severus responded. "I trimmed it."

Without warning, Julian suddenly threw his arms around his father and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Dad. Thank you so much "

Severus was shocked; Julian was not usually demonstrative with him. He gave hugs and kisses to his mother, and she to him, but he'd never felt comfortable doing the same and the boy seemed to understand and usually responded accordingly. Severus held the boy tightly, closing his eyes, putting his chin on the top of the glossy dark hair. He could tell that Julian was saying Thank you for being magical and Thank you for convincing Mum to come here. He'd taken the magical world for granted when he was a boy but Julian had not even known of the magical world until his brother had received his Hogwarts letter. Now he was at Hogwarts, surrounded by magic. Severus held Julian by his shoulders and looked in the bright, excited face. "Are you going to be a good boy and go to sleep or are you too excited?"

"I thought he'd be too excited about Christmas to sleep," Penelope said from the doorway.

"Christmas is fine," Julian said airily, "but this is Hogwarts."

"Now, Julian," Severus said sternly, "I know this is new and exciting but you must promise to be good and not wander about the castle. It is very easy to get lost, or to find that the way you used to get somewhere is no longer the way to go back."

"I promise," he said immediately. Severus quickly dropped a kiss on the top of Julian's head.

"Good. Now you finish your hot chocolate and get some sleep. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Dad. Merry Christmas, Mum," he said, picking up his mug and drinking dutifully. Severus returned to the sitting room while Penelope kissed their son good night.

"We need to talk, Severus," she said as soon as the door was closed. He nodded.

"I know. But first--" He took out his wand and pointed it at Julian's door; after he'd Imperturbed it he put his wand away again. Penelope sat at the opposite end of the couch from him, her face inscrutable. "How--how was your trip?" he began, hoping that he could deflect her.

"Revealing," she said, jiggling her crossed leg impatiently. He cleared his throat, starting to feel uncomfortable. "For one thing, I had no idea that Julian even knew your Miss Harrison--"

"She's not my--"

"When the bus arrived at her house he ran to meet her with hugs and kisses. He wanted to show me his horse." Her voice went up alarmingly. "We would have delayed the other passengers, though. Once we were moving again I found out a lot that I did not know about..."

He cleared his throat again. "Now, I never once told Julian to lie to you about--"

"Perhaps not, but he certainly got the impression that he wasn't supposed to say anything. That also explains why he's been so dodgy when he's come home from a weekend with you."

"He probably just thought--"

"--that I'd be jealous of Tilda Harrison."

"No!"

"Yes!" she countered. "And I am..."

He finally met her eyes, shocked. "What? But I thought--"

"No!" she immediately said, scornful. "Not because of you. Haven't I been telling you that you need to stop thinking about me in that way?"

He snorted. "According to you I never started, so how could I stop? How can you tell someone that they don't really love you and only want to marry you because they feel obliged and also--"

"It's Julian," she said firmly. "How do you think I felt: a woman I'd never met hugging and kissing my son as though she's his mother? Were you going to tell me about this ever?"

He sighed, not having expected this at all. "Yes, we've been going to Latere Farm," he said, his voice tired, "and yes, he's started to think of Minnie as 'his' horse, but--"

"You've been going other places as well," she said, then laughed ruefully. "I can't picture you on the Millennium Wheel! I didn't think you had that much faith in Muggle technology; when I wanted to go, you didn't. What's changed?" He cleared his throat again and she rolled her eyes. "Have a bloody sweet or stop doing that, Severus. I asked you: How could you do this to Julian?"

He threw up his hands, standing and going to the mantel. "Do what? Permit him to enjoy himself when he comes to see me? Give him the opportunity to learn to ride? Take steps to avoid his being bored without his brother?"

She looked chastised. "I never said--I meant getting his hopes up. About Tilda Harrison."

Severus dropped his jaw. "What?"

"You don't see it because you don't want to. He adores her. He's convinced that you'll marry her and she'll be his stepmother. He was worried about my being jealous; that's why he didn't tell me about her. Whenever he's come back from a 'dad' weekend he's always terribly affectionate with me, saying things like, 'You'll always be my mum, you know.' It was like he'd learnt lines from a bad melodrama. Now I know why; he thinks he's got to shelter me."

"I told you," he said slowly, feeling frustrated by how dim she was being, "I never told him to lie to you or conceal from you where we had gone, what we had done and with whom we did it."

"No, but you never volunteered that information yourself, either, and you always used to. Or Nate would, but he's at school now, so he can't."

Severus sighed, sitting again; this display of insecurity was surprising to him. He normally thought of her as much stronger. "I am not marrying Tilda Harrison," he said firmly.

"Why not?" Penelope said suddenly. "Is she not pretty enough for you?"

"What?" He felt like he would soon develop whiplash from the changing conversation.

"Why aren't you going out with her?" Penelope demanded. "Going out properly, that is. Without Julian. You seem to get on well enough, and she likes Julian, so it's not as though you have to explain your son to her. She knows about magic because of her son. And Harry, presumably. So what is it, exactly?"

Utterly confused, he said, "I thought you did not want me to see Tilda Harrison."

"I never said that! I wanted to know why you didn't tell me that you and Julian had been going to see her, and going other places with her as well. You can't do this, Severus."

He shook his head again, feeling a great need for a headache potion. "What?"

"Get Julian's hopes up! What happens when you don't ask her out, she tires of waiting and then disappears from your lives? He'll be devastated! You can't dangle a potential stepmother in front of a little boy and expect him to be all right when she's disappeared with no trace..."

Severus stood again, sputtering. "And what do you do, exactly? Nate thought I was going to be his stepfather. You were carrying my child and I asked you to marry me. Then you refused me. And have you stopped seeing other men? In fact it seems bloody useful to you that I was taking both boys with me on the weekends as it probably gave you more time for going out with men who were also never going to be your sons' stepfather because neither I nor they are Percy Weasley!"

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "That's why I only go out when the boys are gone now. And don't you think I'd love to get over Percy? Why do you think I avoid even doing magic? Everything in this world," she said, gesturing at the room around them, "reminds me of him. And even though you share many things, I eventually came to realise that that wasn't enough. I'm sorry that I hurt you," she added, tears flowing freely now, "but do you think I want to be this way? That I wouldn't welcome meeting and falling in love with someone new? Do you think I want to get my sons' hopes up again the way Nate got his hopes up with you?"

He wanted to reason with Penelope the evening that he'd driven off Cyril; he wanted to say that Percy had been a hero and that Molly Weasley might be quite understanding about their not having married--who had time during a war? But somehow he couldn't get the words out. Instead she'd gone on comparing them--in Severus's favor--and he was relieved when they moved to the living room and the conversation changed to other, safer topics. He didn't realise how long they had been talking when Penelope let out a yawn, abruptly covering her mouth.

"I'm sorry, how rude--goodness!" she added, looking at her watch. "How did it get to be so late?"

Severus also looked at her watch; it was nearly two-thirty. "I should go," he said reluctantly. After finishing her tea she had taken her hair down, kicked off her shoes and sat next to him on the couch. He did not wonder what Percy Weasley had seen in her, though he did wonder briefly what she had seen in him, and felt more sympathetic about her not telling the Weasleys...

"Don't go," she said suddenly, a strange light in her eyes.

"What?" He was unable to prevent his frown.

"Stay," she said suddenly, her voice cracking a little. "Please," she added.

He looked down at the couch, pressing his hand on the cushion. "Well, I suppose it is late to be walking back to the castle from the village. And this seems comfortable enough."

"I didn't mean stay right here," she said, also patting the couch. "I meant--" Her eyes moved to the bedroom. He could see the corner of the bed, which suddenly made his throat feel rather tight. His gaze was brought back to her when she stood and took his hand, pulling him to his feet, forcing him to extricate his hand or follow her to the bedroom. He followed her. When she had closed the door he suddenly found himself up against it, her body pressed against his. He couldn't say afterward who had moved first but they were kissing, barely touching each other, just grazing each other's lips. Severus pulled back suddenly, knocking his head on the door.

"Are--are you certain?" he asked her, wondering whether she had really seen him or whether she'd carried the idea that he and Percy Weasley were both spies so far that she now laboured under the delusion that they were interchangeable.

She swallowed, leaning her body against his so that she could not fail to know how she had affected him. "I'm tired of hiding. I know that much. All day, everyday, all I do is hide. And yes, I know I made that choice. Because not hiding would be--painful. Too painful. I used to be certain of so many things but now I don't think I'm certain of anything. So, no; I'm not certain. But I had rather hoped that you might be certain enough for both of us," she said softly.

Before he knew what he was doing he was kissing her again, deeply this time, while he slid down the zipper on the back of her dress and the fabric slipped to the floor...

Severus blinked, looking away; that was not a productive thing to remember. He sighed and sat on the couch again. "I did not think I was 'leading on' our son. He has asked me whether I will be asking Miss Harrison to marry me, but I informed him that she wasn't my girlfriend and it was his opinion that I should ask her to be my girlfriend first." His mouth twisted ruefully. To his relief Penelope laughed, looking considerably more cheerful as she dried her eyes.

"Well," she said, smiling now. "Out of the mouths of babes."

He grimaced, leaning back on the couch and staring at the leaping flames.

Out of the mouths of babes indeed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nate Clearwater and Teddy Harrison walked back to Gryffindor Tower with slow steps after stuffing themselves at Christmas tea. They both carried armfuls of gifts from their families.

"We could try levitating these," Teddy said, grunting with effort as he dropped a Weasley jumper and tried not to drop the chess set his mother had given him, along with a Sneakoscope from Harry and a large package of Honeydukes sweets from Ginny, plus assorted sweets from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes that Ginny had tried to convince him to throw out. (Her brothers had been very eager to have him try some but he had declined.) He gave up and dropped everything, throwing the crown he'd got from a Christmas cracker on the top of the pile.

"Okay," Nate said eagerly, wearing a bright red bowler-hat from his cracker.

He juggled seven packages from his mother, a heavy Potions text from Severus, a delicate Christmas tree made from egg cartons by his little brother, and three Weasley jumpers that had been knitted quickly by his newly-discovered grandmother, plus several electrical plugs that his grandfather had pulled from his pockets, saying enthusiastically, "You've lived in the Muggle world? Well, you'll enjoy these, then!" Nate had no idea what he was supposed to do with the plugs but he'd smiled and nodded and thanked him for the 'gift.'

It had been a very exciting afternoon, punctuated frequently by his grandmother hugging him tightly. His mum had initially looked nervous about telling his grandmother about his existence; it was a complete surprise to him that after years of resistance she was finally doing this. Molly Weasley had looked angry at first but she also didn't seem to want to show this and instead she'd had caused knitting needles to appear, moving very quickly as she measured him with her wand.

While it had been exciting to learn of his father's identity and to immediately acquire a lot of enthusiastic relatives--including Harry Potter as his uncle-by-marriage, plus Teddy as his step-cousin--he was growing weary of all of the Weasley-attention by nine o'clock and Teddy had helped him by claiming to be falling asleep. They had actually never felt more alert.

Nate obligingly put all of his gifts on the floor beside Teddy's and pulled out his wand. They both pointed their wands at the pile and cried, "Wingardium leviosa!" The articles on the floor of the corridor started to stir restlessly, but the movement almost immediately subsided and everything was still again. Nate's mouth twisted as he regarded the heap of gifts.

"Let's try again," he said with determination. Teddy nodded. Just as they were about to cast the spell again, however, Teddy heard a whisper:

"They're doing magic!"

He turned around, squinting into the dimness; farther down the corridor two deep niches held a suit of armour and a statue of a mid-twelfth-century wizard, hero of a goblin war, his robes in tatters and his hat at a rakish angle; they were both draped in holly. "It's all right, I'm fine, just too full of food to think," Nate said nervously. "I can do this. I did do this already. Flitwick said I was a natural. Of course, that was just a feather..."

"Shut up," Teddy said tersely, staring down the corridor, taking slow steps toward the armour and the statue, his wand at the ready. He stopped and heard it: laughter, very, very quiet laughter. And a tiny ping: the sound of metal being hit very lightly.

"What's going on?" Nate whispered, following him; Teddy turned to him for a moment, but had to look away; he couldn't take his best friend seriously with that red bowler-hat on his head.

"We have company," Teddy said quietly, gesturing toward the armour. Nate nodded. They drew closer and closer to the armour, then both pointed their wands at it. Teddy felt a thrill running through his body as he prepared to say the incantation. He didn't think he would fail this time.

"Wingardium leviosa!" they cried together. The armour went flying up into the air, revealing three small figures in the niche.

"I told you to be quiet!" Ruby Potter said to her sister Rory, giving her a small shove.

"It wasn't me, it was you telling us to shut up!" Rory retorted, pointing at Julian Snape.

Julian looked up at Teddy, frowning. "Are your sisters always like this?"

Nate and Teddy looked at each other; Teddy felt a foreboding in the pit of his stomach. "You know you aren't supposed to be wandering around. What if you get lost, or get your foot stuck in a stair? You could wait for days for someone to come and help you." During the previous months he'd come to understand how much of a handful his sisters were for Harry and Ginny and also knew that they didn't know the half of what the twins got up to--including Rory, who was better than Ruby at covering her tracks (or less honest).

Rory, however, had a very smug expression as she took out a piece of parchment and presented it to Nate and Teddy. "No danger of getting lost," she said. "We've got this."

"The Marauder's Map," Teddy read. He looked at the girls shrewdly. "Where'd you get this? Is this Harry's? He told me his dad and his friends called themselves the Marauders."

Ruby smiled slyly. "You're good." She turned to Rory. "He's dad's son all right."

"I know I am!" he snarled. "And I'm a Hogwarts student. You three are not and have no business wandering the corridors."

Rory sniffed. "Thinking of trying to be appointed prefect? You sound stuffy enough for it. Don't you see? This map shows the entire castle, secret passages, where other people are..."

Nate was holding the parchment and staring at it avidly. "She's right, mate," he breathed, fascinated. "It's brilliant."

"You'd still better get back to the others," Teddy said, feeling disgruntled. Somehow he'd had a feeling for a while that the twins were planning to include him in a scheme to do something they shouldn't and leave him holding the bag. For four months he'd wondered whether they truly accepted him or were only lulling him into a false sense of security before a sting operation...

"You silly," Ruby said disdainfully; Teddy paid attention to her, since she seldom hid her agenda. "We came to find you to give you that," she said, nodding at the parchment.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because you'll need it to carry out the plan," Julian piped up suddenly.

Here it comes, he thought. And they're doing it here, not in Durham where I can only get in trouble with Harry and Ginny. Here I could get expelled. "I don't care about a plan."

"You will when you hear what it is," Julian said, smiling sunnily. Teddy looked sideways at Nate as if to say, He's your brother--do something about him.

"Let us explain," Rory said with mock-patience, rolling her eyes, as though she already had explained it to them and they'd been too dense to grasp it.

"What plan requiring this map wouldn't end in our getting expelled?" Teddy demanded.

Rory sighed, as he knew she would. "It's to get into the Restricted Section of the library. Which isn't actually the plan. You need a particular spell to carry out the plan and it's probably not going to be anywhere but the Restricted Section."

"What? We could spend years going through every book in the Restricted Section until we find a spell to do what you want. No. Just--no."

"You won't need to spend years looking," Ruby said confidently.

Teddy frowned at her. "Why not?"

"Because," Julian piped up excitedly, "all you need to do is find the ones about ex--ex--ex--"

"What?" Nate said, for which Teddy was glad; he didn't fancy showing impatience with his best friend's little brother, whom he'd just met that day.

"What he's trying to say," Ruby told them crisply, "is that you just need to look up exorcism."

---