Harry Potter and the Rogue Countercurse

Hermione generally had to fight to make herself heard. She was quite used to making speeches and giving lectures and to watching people roll their eyes in boredom or exasperated fondness. What she was not used to was a group of people standing around her - eyes riveted, mouths hanging open. And, judging by the faces of unmistakable anger and annoyance on everyone, she was not anxious to repeat the experience. As a matter of fact, she was feeling downright embarrassed and uncomfortable. She wished vainly for a diversion - even Peeves would do - anything to get these people's stony faces staring at something else.

But Hermione wasn't the most composed and mature student in sixth year for nothing.

"Right," she said, clearing her throat primly. "I'll say it once more. Exploding Snap and Gobstones are not permitted in the Gryffindor common room this year. Professor McGonagall's orders. Anyone found playing these games will have ten points taken from Gryffindor and a detention. And," she said sternly, "don't think I won't take points off my own house. As prefect, it is my duty to enforce the rules. All the rules."

This proclamation was met with continued silence.

"So...," said Hermione, plunging bravely on, "does anyone have any questions?" She furrowed her brow. "I mean, I can't imagine that you would, the rules are quite straightforward. But - "

"Yeah, I have one," said a fourth-year boy darkly. "Why?"

Hermione sighed. "Well, they're very dangerous games really. Professor McGonagall believes it would be quite easy to injure someone or - "

The fourth-year's question seemed to have emboldened the others, and a slew of questions followed almost instantly.

"But no one's ever got hurt before, why now -?" "What about Gobstones club?" "Professor McGonagall never cared before!" "Please, Hermione, McGonagall will never have to know what we do in here..."

Hermione cleared her throat loudly and held up her hand. "First of all, I won't be bending the rules for anyone," she said, looking pointedly at Harry and Ron who were not meeting her eyes but whispering to each other instead. "Gobstones Club will meet as usual, as it is supervised by a teacher. And as to why Professor McGonagall chose to ban them this year, well..." Hermione's voice trailed off and she concentrated on keeping her face neutral. "I'm..er...well, I'm certain she must have had her reasons. But it's not for us to question why. No Gryffindor is to be caught playing Gobstones or Exploding Snap in the Common Room. And that's final."

The rest of the students, positive that there could be no arguing with her, broke from the circle that had been surrounding her and started talking to each other in angry whispers. Most people went back to their dormitories to discuss what had just happened without Hermione hearing and telling them off. Finally, only a group of chattering fifth-years, Harry, Ron, and Hermione remained.

Harry and Hermione were sitting in two of the squashy armchairs and Ron was sprawled on the carpet, shooting sparks out of his wand and watching Crookshanks try and chase them. Crookshanks' eyes were riveted on the wand, and every now and then he would try and bat at a red or gold spark. It was remarkable how Ron's and Crookshank's relationship had improved since third year.

Hermione sighed. "I hate being the bearer of bad news."

Ron looked up and a spark accidentally flew onto Crookshanks's tail. It glowed brightly for a few seconds and the ginger cat flew into a frenzy trying to chase his own tail. The spark abruptly died and a bewildered Crookshanks shook his head and sank his teeth into Ron's leg.

"Ow!" howled Ron. "Mad cat!" he shouted as he shook Crookshanks off. Well, maybe not that improved.

Hermione grimaced. "Oh, Ron, honestly! Come here, Crookshanks," she said soothingly. But the cat shot Hermione a death glare and skulked off to the girls' dormitory.

"See, Hermione?" said Harry. "Even your own cat hates you. He and Mrs. Norris probably like playing Exploding Snap while we're all at lessons."

"They do not, Crookshanks hates Mrs. Norris," Hermione said waspishly, knowing full well that that was not the point Harry had been trying to make. "And he's certainly not mad at me, even if everyone else in Gryffindor is." A thought occurred to her. "You too aren't angry with me, are you?"

Harry and Ron's eyes snapped up to look at each other meaningfully. Hermione was quite sure that whatever it was they were thinking was what they had been whispering about during her speech.

"What?" she asked. "You're not, are you?"

Ron broke eye contact with Harry. "Well...no," he said slowly. "But we do think it's awfully... interesting..."

"Interesting?" asked Hermione, bewildered.

Ron continued. "No, more like -" he broke off and looked at Harry searchingly. Harry considered Hermione for a long moment then said:

"Convenient."

"Yes," said Ron. "Extremely convenient that Professor McGonagall's decided to ban those games this year. Especially when you were just saying the other day how annoying it was to have to listen to people play them in the common room while you're studying."

Hermione felt her face go slightly pink. Her insides squirmed guiltily. "You don't mean to say that you think I would - "

Harry shook his head. "We aren't trying to accuse you. But even you must admit, it is awfully..." Harry shrugged.

"Convenient," said Ron firmly.

Hermione sank back into the chair with her arms folded over her chest. Try to sound offended, she told herself. Offended that they could possibly think such a thing. "Well," she said, trying to sound imperious. Most unfortunately, the syllable came out sounding like a squeak. She tried again. "Well," she said. "Professor McGonagall gave the orders, not me. And it's not like this is the end of the world. You can use all the time you spent playing those stupid games for your studies. You'll get top marks this year."

Harry and Ron stared at her incredulously. "Stupid games?" said Harry weakly.

"Studying?" said Ron, sounding sick.

"Oh, do be sensible," she said. "Even Fred and George took this better than you."

Ron furrowed his brow. "Yeah, and that's pretty weird. I mean, those are two of their favorite activities, you know."

"Yeah," snorted Harry. "That, and checking out g-"

"Well, they didn't say anything at all. Not one word of complaint," said Hermione. She sniffed. "I suppose they're finally growing up."

Harry grinned. "Somehow I doubt that. In fact," he said, "I'd definitely be wary of those two."

"Why?" asked Hermione puzzled. "They didn't take it badly at all."

Harry and Ron just grinned, said good-night, and headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

"Night, then," called Hermione, as she stepped into the girls' dormitories only to discover that Crookshanks, who was sitting on the bed as if he owned it, had ripped apart her fluffy feather pillow.

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Meanwhile, down in the Common Room, four identical hands appeared suddenly out of thin air. These hands stretched up and tugged at an invisible something or other until identical heads appeared, each crowned with bright, red hair. They tugged the something-or-other down lower until two identical torsoes appeared, both wearing black Hogwarts robes. The something-or-other turned out to be a shimmering, silver cloak, which the two people cast aside.

Fred and George Weasley faced each other.

"So, brother mine, what are we going to do about this?" said Fred.

George considered. "This is a terrible state of affairs. We can't have this. Not our last year."

Fred nodded. "Definitely not."

It was at their mother's behest that the twins were even attending Hogwarts. After their daring escape from Umbridge last year, Fred and George had had no desire to return to Hogwarts. Their mother, to everyone's surprise, had allowed them to keep the joke shop, but insisted that they finish at Hogwarts first. After much arguing, the twins had agreed, and were back to complete their seventh year. They had made quite a bit of money from the joke shop over the summer, and were planning on working some more over the winter holidays as well. After spring term, the joke shop would be open permanently.

"No point arguing with Hermione," said Fred. "We'd have more of a chance with McGonagall."

George conceded. "Yeah, I reckon you're right. Besides, as much as I'd like to ruffle Hermione's feathers, she's right. This isn't her fault, it's McGonagall's. So, what do you think? What's our line of attack?"

Fred frowned thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure there's a way to protest unjust rules. It's probably in the Hogwarts Handbook. Do you want me to -?"

But George had beaten him to it. "Accio handbook!" he cried, his wand pointing up to the boys' dormitory. A thin yellow book came floating down the stairs. George caught it neatly in his hand. "I knew Ferdinand had a copy. He loves rules almost as much as Percy." George flipped the book open and searched until he found what they were looking for.

Far from looking pleased, however, George frowned and slammed the book shut. "Damn," he said, closing his eyes.

Fred looked quite disappointed. "Isn't there a way, then?"

George nodded. "Yeah. But as it turns out, we can't go to McGonagall directly. We've got to to through - "

"Hermione," said Fred, groaning. "I knew it. What have we got to do?"

"State our case," said George. "We schedule an appointment with her, one-on-one. Two-on-one, sorry." he amended at the look on Fred's face. "We argue our case, and then she'll decide whether our points are good enough that she can go to McGonagall. So? What do you think?"

Fred nodded. "Sounds good." He frowned. "It's not very devious, though. Since when have we followed the rules about anything? You don't reckon we're - "

"Losing our touch?" finished George. "Nah, I don't think so. Look, you know that Mum would be furious if we got expelled. And I don't fancy having to do another year over.

"True," said Fred. "Very true." He frowned again. "But what if it doesn't work? Either one of them could turn us down."

George grinned. "Well, we'll be sure to lather on the Weasley charm. And if that still doesn't work..."

"What?' said Fred, excitedly.

"Then, dear brother, we go to war."

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In the fifth-year boys' dormitory, Harry had been tossing and turning, trying to get to sleep. Of course, even sleep generally wasn't all that great, since he was quite often plagued by nightmares of Cedric - and of Sirius. It had been almost four months now, and for the first two, Harry had been quite sure that he would never laugh or smile again. But it had gotten better with time, and his return to Hogwarts and *comparative* normalcy had wrought a great change in his emotions. It felt wonderful spending time with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins. The twins, he thought sleepily. He had been almost certain that they had been sitting behind them in the common room, covered in the Invisibility Cloak he had given them.

While clearing out Sirius' things from Grimmauld Place, Harry had discovered an Invisibility Cloak owned by Sirius' parents. As Harry already had one, and Ron and Hermione were free to use it whenever they needed it, Harry hadn't been at all sure what to do with it. Finally, Harry decided that it was quite proper and fitting that the cloak be given to the greatest mischief-makers at Hogwarts since the Marauders themselves. Harry was certain that Sirius, who had loved fun and practical jokes, would have approved.

After trying some more to get to sleep, Harry gave up and went over to the window. He stared out from Gryffindor Tower at the grounds, at Hagrid's hut, and finally up at the moon, which was a lovely crescent. This reminded him of Luna Lovegood, the long-haired fifth-year Ravenclaw he had met only last year. She had been with him that day when Sirius had...

She was very strange, both in appearance and in personality, but he thought about their encounter last year at the bulletin boards, and of how comforting he had found her words. Maybe it's because she had someone close to her die as well. I can understand that - even if I don't understand her. She's so odd... He shook his head. But there's something about her, he conceded. He shrugged, went back and laid down in his four-poster, and this time fell soundly asleep.

Had Harry bothered to look below the shining moon, he would have noticed that Sirius, the Dog Star, shone brilliantly above him in the black-velvet sky.

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