Against the Tide

The Gryffindor seventh-years sat on Dean's bed, nervously eyeing the eight bundles of future in the centre of their circle. Each student waited for someone else to reach into the pile first, but no one made a move.

"This is stupid," Hermione muttered. "Harry, you go first," she said, pushing him slightly.

"No. Er- Lavender should. She was the first Gryffindor in our year," he replied.

Everyone except Lavender nodded, smiling at the reasoning. It was Friday afternoon, and McGonagall had given all seventh-years the afternoon off classes when the mock results, and the job offers they garnered, arrived. The Gryffindors had come to the boy's dormitories because the Common Room had been filled with students without a class to attend, and they hadn't wanted any witnesses to the bad news.

"Fine," Lavender said with resignation. "But then Seamus and then Hermione, alright?" Everyone nodded and Lavender reached into the pile, retrieving her bundle of letters. "Mock results first," she whispered, and closed her eyes as she opened the envelope. "Oh! They aren't bad. I passed every subject, and got Exceeds Expectations in both Divination and Defense."

Everyone let out a sigh of relief, and Seamus broke open his results. "Yes!" he cried, pumping the air with his fist. "Outstanding in Charms and Acceptable in everything else."

Hermione's smile was wide as she announced she had achieved Outstanding marks in every class. Neville's relief was obvious when he saw he'd not only passed every test, but had received good marks in Herbology and Defense. Parvati squealed with joy to see she had passed every subject but Transfiguration, and that even that mark wasn't beyond hope.

Harry's remarks were better than he had expected. All he needed were five N.E.W.T.'s, regardless of the mark, but what he saw relieved him. Outstanding in Defense, Herbology and Charms, Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures, and an Acceptable in Potions.

Dean smiled quietly when he showed them his remarks. Exceeds Expectations in all classes. Ron was disgusted to see he hadn't managed to beat Harry in Defense, though he had tried.

"Well, that's over with," Harry said. "Now on with the job offers, yeah?"

Lavender removed her witches cap and insisted they all place their names in, to be drawn for placing. Seamus's name came first.

Nervously, Seamus opened the first of three unmarked letters he had received. "Ugh! An eel farm," he sneered, throwing the paper behind him, and tearing into the second. "The Department of Magical Transportation thinks I'll make a good Floo Coordinator," he said sarcastically, but Harry noticed he did not throw that letter away, though he did eye the third letter with hope as he opened it. A small grin spread over his face. "Department of Experimental Charms."

Everyone congratulated Seamus, as Experimental Charms was what he wanted. Parvati, his girlfriend, leaned across the circle to kiss him, with such momentum that they nearly fell off Dean's bed.

It was Parvati's turn next, and she had three as well. "A liaison with Muggle Relations!" she said happily, clearly relieved not to have an offer for an eel farm. "And behind door number two-" she joked as she tore open her second offer, "-a Troll Trainer? Are they mad!" She tore into the third envelope. "Hit Wizard. Well, then, two out of three isn't bad, is it?"

Ron was next. He had nearly a dozen different letters. "No. No. No," he muttered as he opened letter after letter, not telling the others what they were.

Seamus grabbed one. "Ha! The Bulgarian Ministry wants him as a medium with the spiritual world! And the Knight's Bus needs a new Conductor!"

"No. No. No," Ron continued. "Yes! Department of Magical Law Enforcement has extended an invitation for their Auror's College."

Everyone congratulated Ron, though Harry was a bit disappointed. Not because he didn't want Ron to become an Auror, but because Ron had done it without enduring Snape for two extra years.

Dean was next. He had six letters. "Oh, no! Advertising!" he exclaimed. "Sell my soul to sell some stupid cauldron? I think not," he said as he tore into the second envelope. "Ah, yes. The Daily Prophet requires a new cartoonist." He sat back on his haunches.

"Aren't you going to see the others?" Hermione demanded.

"Not right now," Dean said.

Harry reached into the pile and began the same process Ron had, dismissing most of the offers out of hand. "Ha! Malfoy Industries needs to hire an Attention Seeker. Hmm- the pay is quite good." The group laughed heartily. "Good. The Auror's College has accepted me," Harry said, and opened the last letter just to get it out of the way. He quickly dropped the parchment as if it burnt.

"What's this, then?" Ron said as he picked it up. "Blimey, Harry. The Tutshill Tornadoes want you to play for them! Not even Reserve team, but first string."

Harry couldn't breath, and hardly heard Hermione dismissing the idea as preposterous. His head was roaring with blood, much like a crowd would roar when he snatched the Snitch to win a game. If only-

"My turn, I suppose," Neville interrupted. He had seven letters, much more than anyone had expected, even with the good remarks. "The Botanical Gardens in Bath wants me as an Apprentice!" Everyone cheered. "The Herbology Laboratory in Leeds wants me as an Apprentice!" Again everyone cheered. And cheered, as endless gardens, greenhouses, and Laboratories wanted Neville Longbottom. Finally- "The Department of Unusual and Exotic Plants has a training position open. Amazing! They make you study to be a Master at the Ministry!"

Everyone agreed that that was Neville's job, even if they starting pay was wretched. "You'll make bundles when you come out, though," Hermione said nicely. "Definitely better than any other position."

"Now you, Hermione," Ron insisted, greedily eyeing Hermione's stack of over twenty.

The others watched in amazement as Hermione disregarded invitations they would have leapt at. An Intern for the Wizengamot; an Apprenticeship with a famous Arithmancy Master; a position teaching Transfiguration at a young, small school on the Isle of Man; a high-level, high-paying job at the Department of Mysteries.

"Well!" she finally exclaimed. "The Irish Wizards' Free Press is offering me a position on its editorial board. That's- that's fantastic!" She said, a bit taken back by the offer. She had two envelopes remaining. "Auror's College," she rang out merrily, smiling at Ron and Harry, telling them silently that the three of them would be continuing together. Harry thought of what Dumbledore had said, about things changing.

"Hey, this envelope is different," Parvati said, handing the last invitation to Hermione. While all the other letters had been non-descript beige, this letter was stark and snowy white.

Hermione opened the letter with a small smile, and then her face turned quizzical. "I don't understand," was all she said as she turned the letter over to the others.

Neville looked first, and the colour drained from his face. "Blimey, 'Mione," he whispered with a reverent sort of fear. "You've been Summoned!"

"I've been what? You can't mean- you don't mean?" Hermione demanded breathlessly. Parvati, Seamus, Lavender, Ron and Neville all looked at Hermione as if she were a ghost.

Harry snatched the letter. It was short and cryptic, written in dark blue ink. Come to us, was all it said. Harry felt a chill go up his spine.

"Someone want to let Harry 'n I in on this?" Dean asked. "Not to ruin the moment or nothing, but what in the name of Beltane are you talking about?"

"Hermione's been Summoned," Parvati repeated, as if that cleared it all up.

"Now the explanation for those of us who didn't grow up with Aunt Zelda and Aunt Malfalda Levitating us?" Harry said.

Hermione finally stopped staring into space. "I've been Summoned to the Dragon's Keep."

"You are going to be a Dragon Keeper?" Harry asked incredulously. "No offense, Hermione, but I'd go with something else."

"Not a Dragon Keeper, stupid," Seamus snapped, as if the matter were deadly serious. "Dragon's Keep. A castle in Wales, hidden from anyone but those who are Summoned-"

"-And those who are Summoned are the greatest minds of the Wizarding world. Dumbledore studied there! And now Hermione will, too," Neville finished, a bit in awe.

"So... it's a University?" Harry asked.

"No! Yes," Hermione said impatiently. "Its more, and less. It's a place where you can do nothing but study forever, should you please. Dragon's guard the valley, they say, keeping out all who have not been Summoned, keeping those inside safe from interference or elimination. The Dragon's Keep was the last place the ancient Druids fled to. They made a community there, sheltered from outside eyes."

"So, this place is run by Druids?" Dean asked.

"No. The Druids began to die out, and so they Summoned scholars and philosophers from the world to come and continue their studies at the Keep. I heard that they've the oldest and largest collection of Runes in the world!"

"That's great, Hermione," Harry said. "Much better than the Auror's."

Hermione paused at that and looked up at Ron and Harry. "I haven't decided what I'll do. There's no rush, certainly."

"But, Hermione," Ron said pleadingly. "You've been Summoned. If someone is Summoned, they go to the Dragon's Keep. That's how these things are. They say that the Keep pulls you there."

"They also say its bloody impossible to leave, unless the Prelate wants you to," Parvati answered. "My Uncle Sukhdeep was there for twenty-three years before he was allowed to return. He didn't mind, he claimed, but it is a bit creepy, isn't it?"

Everyone nodded except Hermione.

"Well, maybe one day I'll decide I want to go. I don't think the invitation has an expiry date, do you? But if Ron and Harry are going to be Auror's, I want to be one as well. I can always change my mind about that, but once you are in the Keep, the Prelate decides."

Harry had a terrible thought; if Hermione went to the Dragon's Keep, maybe he could go out for the Tutshill Tornadoes. "What's this about the Prelate, Parvati?" he asked, trying to get the image of winning the League Championship out of his mind.

"Well, I'm not really sure. No one speaks of her, not like she's a real living being, anyway."

"I heard my Uncle say once that the Prelate wasn't human, that the Prelate was never wrong, that the Prelate knew everything that was, and is, and will be. The Prelate, Uncle said, knows which child will do what, when the child is still in the womb. He said that the Prelate was as old as the world, and had been with the Keep since it began." Everyone looked uncomfortably at that.

"Plenty of time to decide," Hermione said. "Let's go see how the others fared?"

The Great Hall was a beehive of activity as seventh-year students ran to friends and discussed the jobs they would take. Blaise had been offered a job at a publishing house, editing historical texts and novels. Morag had been offered a job was Intern to the Wizengamot. Susan Bones would go to the Auror's College, and Anthony Goldstein would join the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

"Isn't that Percy's Department?" Harry asked Ron.

"Yeah. Pity the lad," he said.

News of Hermione's Summoning took the Hall by storm. Everyone tried to come and congratulate her, seemingly all at once. The only person who did not was Malfoy, who sat at Slytherin table, watching the show with a sneer.

Dumbledore broke up the party when he stood, clearing his throat. Students ran back to their tables, all grinning happily at the Headmaster.

"It has been many years since one of our students has been Summoned straight from Hogwarts to the Dragon's Keep. Although I'm sure Ms. Granger has not decided what she will do, it is an honour. Congratulations." The students from every House clapped a bit, most of the younger students unsure exactly what it meant to be Summoned. "All the seventh-years worked especially hard this year, to have garnered so many wonderful placements, and I believe a celebration is in order.

"Tomorrow, we will have a Hogsmeade weekend." Now the entire Great Hall burst out in applause. Hogsmeade weekends had been cancelled in October, although the students had marched to town to protest, and some of them snuck in ever once in a while for supplies. The students, quite rightly, were going a little crazy. Fights between Gryffindor and Slytherin, always common, had taken on an edge of frenzy, and often the spectators were more vicious than the participants. Harry imagined that Madam Pomfrey's supply problems had more to do with the timing of the Hogsmeade weekend than the mock N.E.W.T. results.

"Fantastic," Seamus said that night as they readied for bed. "Will you lads meet me at the corner of Alabaster Alley and Cauldron Street, tomorrow at noon? I need your help." The boys agreed, although Seamus refused to say why he needed help.

The next morning was a pristinely beautiful day. It had snowed all day the day before, but today, the cloudless sky allowed the sun to shine off the new snow, already trampled by the footsteps of combatants in what had been the snow fight to end all snow fights. It was going to be continued on Sunday.

It was also Ginny's birthday. Beyond spending the morning with her in Hogsmeade until noon (Ginny seemed quite relieved that he had to help Seamus. She, apparently, had pretty things to buy, which he wouldn't understand), Harry had asked the House-Elves to bake a cake for her.

Once the students reached Hogsmeade, they scattered through the story-book looking village. "First stop, Zonko's!" Ginny cried, a glint of the devil in her eyes. Harry thought about the other girls he knew, most of them looked down on pranks as silly, or dangerous. While it was difficult to imagine anyone who had as much lust for pranks as the Weasley twins', Harry knew that Ginny did. She was bloody dangerous with a full bag of tricks.

Zonko's, then Honeyduke's, Parchment and Puzzles, then the Three Broomsticks, the morning went quickly. Too soon, Harry was kissing Ginny's cheek as her friend Abigail Twist sat in his seat. At the corner of Alabaster and Cauldron, Seamus was pacing in the snow, looking slightly sick.

"Seamus, mate, are you alright?" Dean asked worriedly. "Did you eat to much chocolate at Honeyduke's?"

"I'm fine," Seamus replied. "It's just- just- oh, come with me." Seamus led them up Alabaster Alley, through Warlock's Way, then up the steps leading to Levitating Lane, where the poshest shops were kept. "There," Seamus said, pointing to a shop window.

The boys crowded around the window to look at the specific display Seamus had indicated. It was a gold ring, with a dark red stone. "Sapphire?" Neville asked. "No, ruby," Dean responded. Harry stood staring at it, not sure what was so interesting about it. There were some Runes on it- he supposed that must be it.

"Is it the Runes, Seamus? What do they say?" Harry asked.

"The Runes say 'Forever,' 'Love,' 'Commitment.'"

"Oh. Well, I don't see what's so sinister about that," Neville said, perplexedly.

"Sinister?" Seamus asked. "Do you idgits think I brought you here to look at a Dark ring, or something?" he said laughing.

"Or something," Ron said. "Finnegan, some of us have better things to do..." Ron's voice trailed off in warning.

"Sorry," Seamus said. "I brought you here 'cause I need your help with buying a ring." When his Housemates looked blankly at him, he continued. "For Parvati."

"For Christmas?" Dean said. All the boys nodded.

"No!" Seamus said in exasperation. "I'm going to ask her to marry me."

After a moment, they began to comprehend what Seamus had just said, and they looked at him in an even dumber silence.

"Marry?" Ron said, unsure. "As in, forever, and ever, I love you, have my children. That kind of marry? With Parvati? But, you two are so young, and Parvati- I mean, Parvati..."

"Parvati what?" Seamus demanded, an angry glint in his eye.

"Well, she has you under her thumb," Dean finished for Ron. "Not that its a bad thing, because Parv is great, but are you sure you shouldn't think about this a bit more?"

"No, I won't. I was just waiting for our job offers, to see if we'd be able to make it work. Lots of people get married right out of school and are very happy. Parvati and I would be happy, don't you think?" Seamus asked, a bit unsure. He'd probably expected a bit more enthusiasm from his closest friends.

"Absolutely," Harry said, clapping him on the back. "Just surprised us a bit, you know. None of us are brave enough to marry Parvati." Harry wasn't quite sure that was the reason none of the others were dashing out and buying wedding rings.

"Yeah, Harry's right," Dean said, giving Seamus a manly pounding of the back. "So, how much is this thing, anyway? It's real nice, Seamus. Parv's gonna go over the moon."

"She'll probably accessorize her wardrobe around it," Seamus groaned, as if he hadn't realized that yet. "At least its Gryffindor colours, dark red and gold."

The store door opened abruptly, and Percy Weasley came out, swinging a parcel and whistling merrily.

"Hello, Percy," Ron said loudly, as Percy had not noticed the five boys. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Ron, hello," Percy said, offering his hand for a shake. When Ron didn't take it, Percy greeted the other boys with a smile. "I just came to get Isabelle's ring, for our wedding. It'll be the end of this month, so that you and Ginny can come."

"That's the first I've heard of it," Ron said.

"Well, we decided to move the date up. You know, in love and all."

For some reason, Harry didn't believe it. "How's work, then, Perce?"

"Harry," he acknowledged. "Oh, work's good. Excellent, really. Isabelle's father has been transferred to Head of International Cooperation, and I've just been offered the position of Undersecretary to the Head. Very exciting."

Ron sneered. "Was that before, or after, you moved the wedding up?"

Percy blushed scarlet. "After, but what of it, Ronald? We've been engaged for over a year," he said snidely. "Perhaps if you kept a girl for longer than a week, you'd understand." With that, he turned away, shouting back over his shoulder, "See you at the wedding."

"Not on his bloody life," Ron muttered darkly, ripping the door open to the shop, which was called Bedazzled. "Do you know, I've always been a bit embarrassed by him, but I never thought I'd be disgusted."

As it turned out, the ring was more expensive than it had looked, with a thick band of gold and a small ruby. The Runes were Charmed to release a scent, or a Cheering Charm, or to tell where the giver was located. "Can't ever cheat on her," Ron had warned Seamus, grinning, as he pulled out his moneybag and dumped its contents onto the glass. "Three Galleons, ten Sickles, and an enchanted whistle. Well worth the price of an invite."

Dean didn't have an extra Sickle to spare, and Neville had forgotten his moneybag at the school, but Harry gladly handed over the dozen Galleons he had on him, knowing Seamus would pay it back when he'd the chance, and not too worried, anyway.

The shop assistant had sneered at the boys at first, until Harry brushed his fringe to one side and let his scar show, breezily demanding service in the way Malfoy would. It had worked then, but now the assistant was obviously rethinking the choice.

"You realize, of course, that fifty Galleons is only the first payment?"

"Yes, I do," Seamus said, keeping his temper.

"And you realize that we don't accept Irish currency, of course?"

"Yes, of course," Seamus replied. "This is, of course, a Scottish shop. I'll bring in a cauldron of haggis and a bolt of tartan, shall I, for the remainder?" With that, he snatched the receipt and bag from the man and stormed out of the shop. The others followed in his path, Ron angrily snapping up his enchanted whistle as he did.

Seamus led the way back towards Hogwarts, his temper waving around him like a cape. There had been troubles between the Irish and British Ministry's over the quota of Irish Auror's under the command of the British Auror's, as negotiated during the last war with Voldemort. Problem was, in the last war, Voldemort hadn't bothered with Ireland, and they hadn't needed so many to defend the population. Now, Ireland seemed to be the prime target, and Fudge and the Department of International Cooperation- Percy's department- refused to renegotiate the Common Magical Defense Pact. Three Irish Auror's were dying for every British Auror, and there were two Irish attacks for every British attack.

The Irish were dying to protect British lives, something that didn't come naturally, and really made them cross. Seamus was better about it then some of the other Irish students, but the anger was shared by nearly all of them. Fights had broken out more than once between Irish students and the general population, and if Professor O'Neill should break the fight up, the non-Irish student couldn't be promised impartiality. O'Neill was one of the strongest, and earliest, advocators of renegotiating the Pact, having published articles on the subject years ago.

It was getting harder to be a student at Hogwarts. It wasn't just the Irish students, but the Scottish ones, as well. The Scottish wizarding clans had not disappeared as the Muggle ones had, but instead thrived. Every Codswallop student, though Muggle-born, had been 'adopted' by a clan, and claimed allegiance to that clan. Fights often broke out amongst the different alliances, and woe be to those who tried to interfere or understand.

Codswallop had been established with a double purpose. Not only to train Muggle-born Scottish students, but also to increase the power and number of the clans, and the presence of the clans in the British Ministry. The Ministry still claimed Scotland (as well as Northern Ireland) as part of its domain, and the taxes and responsibilities were much higher than those for British or Welsh citizens. The Scots didn't approve, naturally, and pushed their demands of autonomy and separation through the students, of both Hogwarts and Codswallop, who joined the Ministry. It seemed to be coming to fruition, if Morag and the constant jockeying of clan supremacy were to be believed.

The climate in and outside the school made it very difficult for Harry to 'gather his troops'. He had puzzled for a week on what Dumbledore had meant. To have troops, you needed an army, after all. But Harry had remembered about Dumbledore's Army, one that he had ostensibly led. By enlisting the help of Morag and Seamus, not to mention a good bit of bargaining and politicking (Damned Scots!), he had reformed the Defense Association, with a new focus; battle readiness.

While the DA had only had one meeting to date, ideas and exercises were being considered. 'Platoons' had been arranged, and while each group would learn the basics of all the work, each would specialize as well. Susan Bones led one platoon that would work mainly for reconnaissance; already that group was learning the passages of the school and the nooks of the grounds. Colin Creevey's group would be trained as a spearhead, to attack and push through enemy lines. Neville's group would train to keep everything together in the Command Center.

The professors seemed to approve. Some, like Hardbottom or Glyphus, seemed to think it a joke, a way for the students to feel important. Others, like McGonagall, Flitwick and even Snape, aided the students as much they could. Snape had, through Malfoy, giving the recipe for several useful Potions; one to track the enemy, one to immobilize any who trod on it, and another which could be used as an odd and archaic grenade, when mixed properly.

The oddest thing, though, was that when Harry had asked Dumbledore if he would train Neville's group- for surely he would be in charge, should the Death Eaters attack again- he had declined. Or, more truthfully, had refused. He had suggested that the school could go through a series of 'simulated attacks', on weekends and through Easter Holidays, but beyond that, he would not participate.

Harry had a sick feeling that, whatever Dumbledore knew of the future, he didn't see himself playing much of a roll.

**

"Uh, Harry," Ginny began, "most people, when celebrating a sixteenth birthday, would choose the Astronomy Tower, not the Owlery."

"Well, your gift is here, so I thought we'd do this here," Harry replied.

"Here? In the Owlery? But it's dirty."

"Not the bench," Harry said, and led her to a corner of the Owlery, which had a small room turn off it. Harry doubted many people had ever noticed it, but he'd spent time scrubbing the floor of the Owlery, and had become well acquainted with it.

"The bench?" Ginny said. "But it's really narrow."

"What?" Harry said as he turned away, whistling with Ron's whistle. A small Snowy Owl came down from the rafters and perched on his arm. Turning back to Ginny, he grinned. "Happy Birthday, Gin."

"An owl?" she asked, smiling. "Oh, he's precious. And he looks just like Hedwig!"

"Well, he should. He's Hedwig's owlet."

Ginny's eyes went wide. "Harry, you're giving me Hedwig's baby?" Harry nodded. "You know Harry, I'm sixteen now." Harry nodded again. Rolling her eyes, Ginny sighed. "Come here, Harry."

It turned out the bench wasn't too narrow.

Talking with Ginny afterwards wasn't nearly as awkward as he had thought it would be. Harry told her about Percy's moving the wedding up, and then they began talking about his 'future'. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it yet, not with Tutshill having just released their first-string Seeker.

"What about becoming an Auror?" Ginny asked. "What about defeating Voldemort?"
"You don't need to be an Auror to be good at Defense, Gin. You don't plan on being an Auror, and you're quite good."

"Yes, of course, but Harry, you've worked so hard to get the qualifications. You really wanted this, and you'll give it up for Quidditch?"

"You make it sound as if Quidditch is just a game," Harry said, kissing her forehead as he straightened his clothes.

"Well, it is, Harry," Ginny said with a smirk as she tried to put her hair to rights. "All I'm saying is, if your good enough now, you'll be good enough in three years, after you finish your Auror's training. No one would blame you then, if you went to play for Tutshill after Voldemort is defeated."

"Well, what if he's defeated before then? Before I finish at Hogwarts?" Harry proposed.

"But if only you can defeat him, and it happens before you graduate, then it would probably happen here," Ginny reasoned. "And the school is so well protected that a mouse couldn't come in without Dumbledore knowing, so that's not going to happen. Just in case, though, perhaps you should stay here for Christmas."

"Where else would I go? The Dursleys'?"

"Harry, don't be stupid. You know Mum would be silly with happiness if you spent Christmas with us," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. She opened her mouth to say more, but shut it, as voices announced the arrival of people in the Owlery.

"...sure? Really sure, I mean, that it was your father?" Morag's voice floated to them.

"Yes. Stephen wouldn't lie to me, not unless he had a reason to. What possible reason could there be, except that my father interfered?" Blaise's voice returned.

"That Confoot is a callow, foolish, wee bastard?"

"That would be a reason, if it were true," Blaise said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "No, my father has been at him. He's always interfering, you know. Just this time, he did it rather clumsily, I must say." She sighed. "I wish he'd just stop with it. Or, I wish I were more like you. No one questions you, or tells you what to do, or chases your lad away. You simply wouldn't allow it."

"Actually, that's not true at all... However, I say good riddance to Cornfoot, and thanks. If your dad could shake him, then he wasn't worthy, yeah?"

"Yes, but now I'm single."

"Mmphm," Morag replied, with an all-purpose Scottish grunt. "Again, good riddance. Boys aren't anything but trouble and turmoil. Look at Hermione and Draco; fighting again! Though it's good to see that any girl can make Draco nutters, not just me. Take Ginny and Harry, then," Morag continued. Harry flicked an eyebrow at Ginny, and she blushed to her hair. "You know, they've been dating nearly a year, right? And has he so much as laid a hand on her? No!"

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Blaise asked.

"Ha! Poor Gin's been panting after Harry for much longer than a year, Blaise," Morag said with a laugh. "Think Harry's noticed?"

"Help me tie this on?" Blaise said, apparently agreeing that Harry had not noticed that Ginny had been 'panting after' him.

And, he hadn't. Though he really wished he had, now that they had.

Harry was still staring at Ginny when the two girls left. She wouldn't look him in the eye, preferring to stroke her new owl.

"Gin? Was that true?" he demanded, scandalized.

"Well... yes." Still not meeting his eyes, she looked nervous.

His scandalized, horrified sensibilities gave way, and he grinned. Then he exploded in laughter. Ginny snapped her eyes up the glare at him peevishly. "I- can't- believe- it..." Harry began when he could draw breath. "If I had only known..."

"So, are you going to come to The Burrow for Christmas, or not?" Ginny asked, a grin on her face.

A rather wicked grin, actually.

**

Hermione sat across from Neville, thankful for the silence of the greenhouses on a Sunday morning. Her fingernails were soiled with ink and dirt, the varnish Lavender insisted on the night before, gone.

Neville invited her down every few weeks to help prepare pots for planting, plants for harvest, or harvested seeds for potting. The calm of the place, just her and Neville (beyond whatever bugs and carnivorous plants there were) was wonderful, and it was especially nice to see Neville so composed. The greenhouses were the only place at Hogwarts where he was completely at home.

He had asked her here Friday, after they'd received their job offers. Neville thought she would need to think about the offers, to choose. He hadn't bothered to offer his opinion- which would have been redundant, as everyone wanted her to go to the Keep- but had only offered to supply the coffee. And he offered her a sanctuary, where the repetitive chopping of seed heads was conductive to deep thought.

But, she wasn't thinking about job offers or life post-Hogwarts. She was thinking about a slaughtered Dragon, a simultaneous outbreak of Dragon's Pox in Poland and East London, and the mysterious appearance of a Dragon's Stone in the Veil Room of the Ministry. Not to mention the disappearance of one Professor Gryffindor.

She had hidden all the news as it came to the Hornblower knowing, immediately and resolutely, that it was dangerous. A Norwegian Ridgeback had been slain in Romania for it's Draconus. It was Norbert, she knew without asking or being told. What other Ridgeback could it be, but the one that Harry and she had tried to save.

If it had just been keeping the murder quiet, not telling Harry about it, there would have been little difficulty. However, a strain of Dragon's Pox common with Ridgeback's had broken out in Poland, and East London, at the same time a Draconus was found in the Department of Mysteries. And, according to the Daily Prophet, a female British Auror had gone missing in Poland, just after a major raid on a Death Eater compound in Warsaw.

Ron and Harry would be awake by now. They would have undoubtedly read the story about the raid, and surmised as she had. Professor Gryffindor was most certainly the Auror gone missing. She didn't know how she knew it, only that her gut kicked every time she tried to dismiss the idea. Without any proof that it was Gryffindor, she wanted badly to distance herself from the notion; however, that only led her to think about her other worries.

Strains of conversations reverberated in her mind, echoing arguments and whispered accusations from the last week.

"I'm good enough to rally the troops and to die for them, but not good enough to be with you!" Draco had shouted at her just the day before, in Hogsmeade. Ron and Harry had cooled considerably toward Draco since she and him had begun to date, and barely spoke to him, not that they had begun to fight. Nothing Hermione said would convince Draco that they were just doing their best to protect her.

"Why should I bother trying to do what they think is right? There's nothing I can do to make them accept me."

Hermione thought that he was probably right. Ron and Harry may trust Draco, within reason, and they may consider him a fair-weather friend, but neither were the sort to forgive and forget. Neither was Draco, however, and she didn't need a crystal ball to see that this problem would snowball into all out war.

But she was greedy and didn't want to break up with Draco. It wasn't that she was in love with him, but that she felt free with him. She had killed his father, after all; what right did she have to claim him? But, the fact that Draco didn't mind so much about his father gave her leave to be happy and innocent. She didn't want to lose that clemency, and go back to guilt and fear.

Ron hadn't been impressed enough to stop treating Draco like he was a parasite.

"Honestly, Hermione, he shouldn't have expected us to be happy. You're going to go to Dragon's Keep, after all. What's he going to do?"

"Possibly die helping to defeat Voldemort!"

"So? Dozens of people a week are doing just that. He doesn't make you happy, Hermione. He makes you angry, distracted and short-tempered."

"That's none of your business."

"You've made that clear, Hermione. Doesn't mean I'll welcome Malfoy into my arms as a brother, though. He's a good ally, a good fighter, and a good writer. But, he's a wretched boyfriend."

And he was, really. He fought with her about silly things, and never gave her a moment's peace. But, he was a good boyfriend too. He smiled at her when she was upset, and made her laugh, he kissed her properly when he should, and not when he shouldn't. He told her important things, and she told him important things. In all, she was willing to put up with the bickering, if it meant she felt special when he smiled at her.

She had worried about becoming one of them, but in the end, dismissed it. Those girls didn't get Summoned to the Dragon's Keep, whether or not they attended. And at the moment, it seemed as if she might go, whether or not she wanted to.

"There aren't any more parchments for me to translate?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

"My dear, you've put yourself quite out of business. All the Runic parchments we had, with any sliver of information about the counter to the Killing Curse, have been translated by you in the last year and a half," Dumbledore said, with a kind smile.

"But, there must be more. Somewhere?" Hermione asked. A year and a half of work, of sleepless nights and impatience, to come to naught? There had to be more parchments! There had been a counter for the Killing Curse, a thousand years ago, and so there had to be proof of it somewhere.

"Well, I do recall rather a lot of Runic parchments in the Library of the Dragon's Keep. Certainly one of those scrolls would have mention of the counter. Of course," Dumbledore had continued, "the only way to know for sure is to go and look for oneself."

And so it appeared Hermione would go to the Dragon's Keep, if for no other reason than to look in the Library and hope. There were worse things she could do. But it meant leaving everything she knew, everyone she loved, for a possible dead end. She wasn't sure she could do that. She might not be strong enough, actually. And with both Harry and Ron going to the Auror's College, she was almost angry she had been Summoned.

But not nearly as angry as Draco.

"More coffee, Hermione?" Neville asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Please," she replied. Sniffing the lovely liquid, she smiled. "What a gorgeous morning."

"Mm-hmm. Readying the gardens for spring, drinking coffee and friends. It's great," Neville agreed. "What do you think about Seamus and Parvati?"

Hermione grinned wryly. "Good luck to Seamus, I say." Neville laughed and turned back to his work.