The Forgotten Song

The day was hot. Boiling hot. And thick black Hogwarts robes were not exactly designed for repelling heatwaves. Quite the opposite, really. Harry felt as if every bit of heat was being drawn to him and captured in the folds of that damn black cloak. It didn't help that he was stuck in the dungeon, either. Harry had nearly died of surprise earlier in the Summer when a barn owl had delivered his OWL results. He'd managed an 'E' in Potions. While that was excellent from almost any point of view (and miraculous when you realised that he'd been failing Potions for the last five years), and while it meant that he was able to take all the courses required to get into Auror's College, it also meant that he had another two years of Professor Snape to look forward to. Ron hadn't managed to pass the Potions exam, nor had any other Gryffindors except for Hermione. In fact, NEWT level Potions was a class made up of four students. Harry, Hermione, Blaise Zabini (a firey red head who was also considered to be the town bicycle of the Slytherins) and, of course, Draco Malfoy. Snape was less than thrilled at his new class. Zabini and Malfoy, his two favourite students, he would have been perfectly happy to teach. Hermione and Harry, the 'know-it-all' and the son of his most hated enemy, he was slightly less pleased about. Actually, it was more like he was livid.

"This year," he said in a cold, monotone voice, "will be tougher than the last five years combined. I do not tolerate misbehaviour, nor do I tolerate failure. Potions is a precise subject, as you well know, and even the least slip up will see you out of my class. Do I make myself clear?"

The four students managed a feeble chorus of "Yes Professor Snape."

Snape looked over the small class. "This set up wont do. If I'm to teach you properly I can't be turning around every two seconds. Malfoy, Potter, sit here up the front. Granger, Zabini, behind them."

Harry sighed as Hermione promptly moved to where Snape had indicated. She still wasn't talking to him, but even a silent Hermione was better than a homicidal and extraordinarily annoying Malfoy.

"Potter! Now! I will not tolerate tardiness!" Harry stood and trundled over to his seat, where he fell into it and leaned back, trying for once to listen to Snape's dull lecture, if only to block out the barrage of threats and taunts Malfoy had let forth as soon as he was in earshot.

Unfortunately for Harry, he wasn't able to take Herbology that year, one of his better subjects, so he didn't see some friends like Justin Finch-Fletchley or the other Hufflepuffs quite as often as he used to. On the upside, he didn't have to take Divination anymore. He looked at his new timetable and realised that he had Defense Against the Dark Arts now, not Transfiguration as he had thought, and that he was in the entirely wrong side of the castle.

"Oh no," he sighed and broke into a run. It was his first day back and already he was late for a class.

"Sorry I'm late!" he burst out as he fell into the classroom. He was glad to see that most of the Gryffindors were still taking the class, and that they had been joined with several Ravenclaws, a few Hufflepuffs and, to his dismay, Draco Malfoy.

"Better late than never, Harry," Kera smiled, one of her eyebrows arched. Harry noticed that half of the boys in the class were staring at her, besotted. The other half were staring at Anna. He took a seat beside Ron, who was staring at the back of Anna's head. While Harry agreed that both sisters were beautiful, he didn't see the thrill in staring at a mass of thick brown waves.

"As I was saying before," Kera continued, "this will be a heavily practical class. I'm sure you all know that the Dark Lord is gathering power to him, and it's my job to prepare you all for life after Hogwarts. You need to know how to identify any creatures you may have to deal with, any dangerous items and objects that you may be forced to handle and, most important, you need to know how to handle yourself in a duel if ever the situation arises." Her eyes flicked to Hermione, who had raised her hand. "Yes, Hermione?"

"Exactly what sort of creatures would we be 'dealing' with?" Harry raised his eyebrows at her, but she didn't notice him.

"Werewolves," Kera shrugged. "Vampires, Banshees, Veelas, Trolls, Ogres, Gnomes, Goblins, Redcaps, that sort of thing. Most a fairly obvious, but others are less so. And some are good, some are bad." Her aqua eyes settled on Hermione. "You can't judge them on their race." Hermione seemed taken aback, but Kera simply raised her eyes to survey the class. "Now, first lesson. Vampires. What do you know about them? Yes, Mr Thomas!"

"They're pale," Dean said.

"Yes," Kera nodded. "Vampires are pale, because their skin wont accept sunlight. What else?"

"They can't go in the sun!" a Ravenclaw suggested.

"Actually, some can," Kera corrected him. "It depends if they're a Vampire who's been Sired by another Vampire, which involves a lot of blood exchanging, or if they're born to another Vampire. Sometime's there'll be a human somewhere in the family tree, and the ability to go in the sunlight is passed on. Those one's are called Daywalkers. Anything else?"

"They can fly," Malfoy drawled from the back corner.

"Good one," Kera nodded. "Anybody know anything else?"

Nobody said anything.

"Okay then," Kera leaned against her desk. "Point one out for me."

The class began to mumble in confusion, and Seamus Finnigan raised his hand slowly. "What was that, Professor?" he asked, a frown wavering on his handsome face. Harry glanced at Anna and noticed that she was looking wide eyed at her sister.

"Spot test, Seamus," Kera shrugged. "First person to point a Vampire out to me wins twenty house points."

Hermione raised her hand, a fixed expression on her face. Kera looked at her as if she'd been expecting it and nodded to her. "You," Hermione said clearly. "And Anna."

The class reacted immediately. Some stared at the two of them in wide eyed terror, some in shock and some with great interest. Anna shrank lower in her seat, but Kera was unfazed.

"Twenty points to Gryffindor," she said calmly, and the class quieted. "I'm a Vampire. Anna had reservations about telling too many people, but you need to get used to dealing with different races. Playtime's over, children." She surveyed the class coolly. "This is a war, and not all the people on our side are going to be human. You've all met a Werewolf, and now you've all met a Vampire. I'm here to help you learn how to identify them, to show you their weak points, their strong points, their characteristics, how best to work with them, and how best to kill them. While I personally am against Voldemort," the class cringed at the name, "there are many other Vampires out there who side with him. Just as we have some Werewolves, Goblins, a few Centaurs and even some Veela on our side, you can be assured that the Dark Lord will have a hundred times that in number. You need to know how to work with them, and against them."

"But what hope have we got if You-Know-Who has a bigger and nastier army than we have?" Lavender Brown asked fearfully from the front of the class.

"There's always hope, Lavender," Kera said kindly. "Numbers don't mean anything in a war like this one's going to be." She clapped once and suddenly all their textbooks opened to a page featuring a picture of an extraordinarily handsome man raising his eyebrows at them. "Now, the characteristics of a Vampire..."

"What a class!" Ron said breathlessly as he and Harry headed down to the Quidditch pitch for some Keeping practise. "I had no idea! About Kera and Anna, I mean. But that explains those lollipops. And that red stuff she's always drinking. And she is awfully pale... and come to think of it, her teeth are kind of pointy, but aren't they retractable or something? And why can they go in the sun? I guess they're the kind that has, um, a human in the family or something. I dunno, it was cool, though. And all that talk about a war... gave me the shivers, what about..."

Harry's mind tuned out Ron's blabbering. From what he heard, though, the 'she' he was referring to was definitely not the older sister.

"What was Malfoy doing in class?" Harry asked.

"No idea, mate. Dunno what that git would be doing in there... thought he'd be learning dark arts, not defence from it."

"That's what I thought," Harry agreed absently, then swore under his breath when he saw that the Quidditch field was occupied. "Just can't get away from him, can I?" he groaned, looking at the group of Slytherins gathered around Malfoy. He was flanked by his two body guards, Crabbe and Goyle, two human mountains who, between them, made up one entire half-wit.

Ron glared at the group. "Must be holding tryouts. Stupid slimey gits."

"Let's just practise down the other end, hey?" Harry suggested.

Ron nodded, and they both mounted their brooms, shooting off to the goal hoops at the opposite end of the pitch to Malfoy.

Ron hovered in front of the center goal as Harry prepared to throw the Quaffle through. Just as the ball had left his hands, however, and was speeding towards his friend, the Slytherins began a loud chorus of 'Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring...' which caused Ron to loose concentration and miss completely. The Slytherins cheered as he shot them a dirty glare.

"Don't worry about it," Harry muttered to him as he returned from getting the Quaffle. "Just ignore them."

"I'm not worrying," Ron snapped, his blue eyes suddenly icey. "A load of stupid death-eaters kids aren't exactly enough to make me shake."

"Okay, fine," Harry dropped the issue. "Ready?"

Ron was ready. He spun around in the air quickly, deflecting the Quaffle with the tail of the broom. The Quaffle sped towards the group of sneering Slytherins and, as if reinforcing Ron's comment about the lot of them being stupid, pummeled into the stomach of Pansy Parkinson, who didn't seem to have to have the sense to move. She dropped to the ground, winded, and Draco shot a death look at a gleeful Ron.

Harry's first week of his sixth year went by without too many disasters. He was determined to do well in Potions this year - to prove Snape wrong more than anything else - and was, so far, succeeding in his aim, which only served to infuriate Snape further. He picked on him incessantly, and at the slightest hesitation, would pile on Harry's homework.

Charms so far was interesting, though the diminutive Professor Flitwick was currently teaching them how to do a shielding charm, which Harry and the other members of the DA (Dumbledore's Army - a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group Harry had formed the previous year) had already perfected. Needless to say, he was doing well.

Care of Magical Creatures was, well, it was what he had come to expect. Hagrid had convinced Ron's second eldest brother, Charlie, to bring a baby dragon (caged) to class, and give a little talk about caring for them. While this was an unusually excellent class, Hagrid had freed the dragon while Charlie wasn't looking, and it had taken Charlie and the teachers three hours to track the little blighter down and recapture it, but not before it had hiccouphed fire over several trees.

Defense Against the Dark Arts had become a lesson to which everybody looked forward to. It was interesting, and as they'd been studying Vampires all wee, Kera and Anna had given the class a flying display. Anna had been leisurely drifting about the room just above the students heads, until Kera initiated a game of tag, and the class had watched on, laughing as the two sisters chased each other about the room, hiding behind the massive models hanging from the ceiling.

That rather eventful class had been held last thing on Thursday, and Anna was still suffering by the following night. She sat at a table in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, filling in a number chart.

Harry looked at her, on her own in the darkest corner of the room. She looked like she was trying to hide. Not that she didn't have good reason - she'd been bombarded with requests to fly around the top of the castle, and even to drink somebody's blood. Everybody at Hogwarts now knew what she was, and while most were fine with it, some remained slightly nervous, and even hostile. As he looked at her, without thinking, he found himself standing up.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, looking up from her own number chart. "What are you doing?"

"Um..." he didn't really give an answer, walking towards Anna and sitting down across from her. He didn't notice Hermione's irritated scowl. Anna didn't look up when he sat down. She simply kept writing with a long black feather quill.

"What's that for?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. She had barely spoken to anybody all day.

Her aqua eyes flicked up, but she didn't answer him.

"Arithmancy?" he asked, noticing that the chart was the same as Hermione. "Hermione's already finished hers, I think."

"We're not all as smart as Hermione," she muttered, continuing to write.

"Yeah, she always does better than me. She gets more homework than I do, but she always finishes it first, then she knits things to free House Elves."

Finally Anna put down her quill, looking at Harry quizzically. "Freeing House Elves? Why the hell would she want to do that?"

"Nobody really knows. She's got this weird obsession. She even likes Kreacher."

Anna smiled. "That creepy little thing? It was doing something with an axe before we left." Harry grinned, but felt it slip from his face as he noticed the glare Hermione sent both of them as she went past. He noticed that Anna looked at her sourly.

"You don't like each other, do you?" he asked.

"I don't have a problem with the bitch," Anna scowled. "She's the one with the fucking problem. Always bloody staring at me like I'm about to kill a student, when really the only person 'round here I'm even tempted to eat is her, the bushy haired little-"

"So... are you still going to try for Chaser?" he asked quickly, trying to head off any homicidal thoughts she may be thinking of acting on.

Anna blinked and opened her mouth, trying to put her mind on the right topic. Harry was shocked to see that her canine teeth were longer and pointier than usual, and he watched mesmerised as they slithered back to their rightful shape. "Uh... yeah." She cracked a smile. "Fuck anybody who doesn't think I can do the job, huh? Bastards."

She gathered her things together. "Anyway, my um... my bed is calling me, so I'm gonna go."

"Wait." Harry grabbed her wrist. She looked down at his hand, then eyed him coolly.

"What?"

He released her wrist. He wasn't sure what he had wanted to say. The sight of her fangs had scared him momentarily, though he didn't think it was polite to ask about them. "Uh... I just wanted to ask if... if you'd ever met my parents." She looked at him sympathetically. "Harry, I'm the same age as you are. If you can't remember them, then what chance have I got? We lived in the same village, but that's probably the closest I ever got to them."

Harry felt his face fall. "Yeah, it was just a thought. I mean... hold on... you lived in the same village? What village?"

"Llanwern. Near Newport. But I don't think we ever met. I was a baby living with my parents, and Kera was off fighting somewhere."

Harry nodded slowly and she smiled at him.

"Don't think on it too much, Harry. It'll only make your head hurt and your heart bleed." She leant over and kissed him on the forehead, right on his scar. It burned for a moment. Not a painful burn, just a small flash that warmed his whole body. "Goodnight, Harry." "Yeah. Night Anna."

Possibly the best thing about Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts was his Occlumency lessons. Unlike the previous year, when he'd been taught by Snape and learnt virtually nothing, he was being taught by Professor Dumbledore. And they weren't stupid once-a-week lessons, either. Dumbledore had made an appeal to the Department of education and, since Harry was considered to be at high-risk from Voldemort, they decided to allow the lesson to become part of the curriculum. Personally, Harry felt that Dumbledore had simply called in a favour. Either way, he was beginning to make slight progress, although Dumbledore had devoted the weeks work so far to meditation, as Harry found it near impossible to relax his mind.

"You're not relaxing, Harry," he'd gently reprimanded him one lesson. "And I doubt that thinking about Miss Granger in a short skirt will aid you much."

Harry had burned scarlet and tried to concentrate harder.

The most useful thing about the lesson, however, was the five minutes which Dumbledore kept free at the end. Harry took advantage of these few minutes as much as he could, by quizzing the Professor about the current state of the war.

"He's still hidden," Dumbledore confessed during Friday's lesson. "We're not sure where, but it's believed that he's somewhere in Wales, trying to round up the Shadow Elves, as we've had reports from the Night Elves that they're being slightly more troublesome than usual."

"What're Night Elves and Shadow Elves?" Harry frowned.

"Night Elves are your stereotypical haughty, tall, prancing and pointy eared people who like to live in forests. Good with bows and the like, though they aren't too fond of humans. Shadow Elves are almost exactly the same, except that whereas Night Elves ignore humans, Shadow Elves attack, abduct and kill them."

"Are the Night Elves on our side?" Harry asked.

"Not really, no," Dumbledore sighed. "They're neutral at the moment. They're most likely to join us if the Shadow's go to Voldemort, but I'd rather it if both clans stayed out of it."

"So nothings really happening yet?"

"The war hasn't yet begun, Harry," Dumbledore said pensively. "But it isn't far off."

The Quidditch pitch was packed with Gryffindors that night, all furiously practising for the tryouts the next day.

"I have no idea why you're all so taken with this game," Hermione smiled slightly from between Ron and Harry. They were sitting on the sidelines and watching the many figures on broomsticks, flitting around in the warm evening air.

"I have no idea how you can be so taken with House Elves," Ron retorted, shooting a grin at Harry. Harry smiled back, but groaned inwardly at the fight which was likely to follow.

"House Elves are oppressed creatures who need my help!" she said huffily.

"And the goal rings are poor, oppressed metal things which need my protection from big evil red flying Quaffles."

Hermione looked heavenward, but didn't say anything, and they sat in silence until Ron suddenly burst out laughing.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Look at Colin," Ron gasped, pointing. Even Hermione had to smother a giggle at the sight. Little Colin Creevey had been flying furiously around, flitting in here, there and everywhere, trying to convince one of the others to throw him the Quaffle. When one of them finally took pity on him - Ginny, Harry thought it was - he was so surprised that he rolled neatly upside down, clinging to the broom by his legs, and his hands grasped about the Quaffle. "I've got it! I've got it!" he screeched triumphantly, only to have it promptly stolen by a third year with raven plaits.

Colin looked so incredibly disappointed that Harry almost felt sorry for him. The feeling dissolved however, and was replaced again by laughter as Colin flew around, clinging to the underside of his broom, unable to get back on top.

"I think we can safely rule him out," Ron chuckled.

The air in the common room the next morning was tense. There were about fifteen students trying for chasers, and five for beaters.

"Well, this'll be an eventful day," Ron said, stretching back in his chair. "And a very long one."

Harry nodded, watching eighteen of the twenty students packing themselves, practising in their minds and sneaking worried glances at Harry. The other two students were quite calm. Anna and Ginny sat together on a couch, cleaning their brooms and chatting merrily.

"They seem confidant," Harry pointed them out to Ron.

"Well, Ginny is pretty dauntless," he smiled proudly at his sister. "And Anna, well, she was doing some pretty alright flying last night."

"Were you watching her flying or the view up her skirt?" Hermione asked, not looking up from a book on her lap.

Ron just grinned, turning a little pink around the ears.

The sun was beaming down on the Quidditch pitch and there wasn't a cloud in sight. It was the perfect day for flying, and Harry felt himself wishing that he could abandon the lot of them and go soaring around the castle.

"So how are we going to do this?" Ron asked as the Gryffindors gathered in front of him and Harry.

"Well, I thought we'd get the Chasers out of the way first," Harry said, leaning on his broom. "The way we're going to do it'll be pretty simple. We'll go up in groups of five, chuck the ball around to each other to see how good you are at catching and stuff, then each of you will try to score a goal. Ron'll be up there, waiting to block you. We'll judge you on how well you can handle the ball, how you can fly, and how good you are at scoring."

"Sounds easy," Ginny smiled, giving her support.

"Okay, great. Ron, go fly around the goal posts for a while. First group... Ginny, Colin, Lara, Lavender and Jason."

The group of five soared up into the air and formed a circle about twenty meters above the pitch. Harry had the Quaffle in his hands. "Ready?" he threw it to Ginny, who caught it easily, then sent it to Lara, the third year with the pigtails, who also caught it and threw it to Lavender, who squealed and dropped it.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, concerned.

"My nail broke!" she whinged. Harry raised his eyebrows and exchanged a look with Ginny.

"Okay. Just, um, go and get the ball."

Lavender looked at him. "What?"

"The ball," Harry pointed at where it lay on the pitch. "You dropped it, so you get it."

Lavender was surprised. "Oh, okay. I just thought that with you being Captain, you'd get it." She batted her eyelashes at him.

"No," Harry leaned back on his broom. "It means that I don't have to get it. Hurry up, you're holding everybody else up."

Lavender scowled, but did as he said. They passed the ball between them for several more minutes. Ginny and Lara were great, passing the ball quickly and catching it easily, but Lavender, who was now in a bad mood, dropped it again and threw it sloppily. Colin caught everything thrown to him, but threw it so badly that Lara had to drop about ten meters to catch it. Jason, a fourth year, was okay. He caught and passed, but nothing really exceptional.

"Okay," Harry said at last. "Let's go for some goal shooting. Ron!" He called out to his friend, who had flown down to the pitch and was now sunbaking.

Ron sat up and looked at him and sighed. He mounted his broom and flew up to his position in front of the center ring. "I was having a really nice nap, mate," he sighed.

"You ready to keep?" Harry asked.

Ron gave him the thumbs up, and Harry motioned to Lara. "Okay, you first.'

He threw her the Quaffle and she caught it lightly, tucking it under her arm and speeding towards Ron. She was heading towards the left goal ring, so Harry decided that she must be feinting, and really be going for the center. Ron had decided the same thing, as he was hovering between the two, keeping his eyes focused on her. At the last second, she twisted to the side and threw the Quaffle, though not to the center as they had thought, but to the right. It was a fantastic shot - it sped past Ron and hit the inside of the hoop, bouncing through it.

Ran sat gawking for a moment, then cheered. "Wow, Lara, that is one strong arm!"

Harry, Ginny, Colin and Jason started clapping, and were joined by the Gryffindors below. Lara blushed slightly and returned to Harry's side.

"Good one," he grinned at her.

The next to try out was Lavender, who seemed determined to beat Lara. She held the Quaffle roughly and flew towards Ron at a fairly moderate speed, and tried the same trick as Lara had. This was a bad move as, for one thing, Ron had now seen it done and was ready for it, and for another thing, Lavender couldn't throw nearly as far as Lara could. It was a fair distance between the two end posts, and because of the angle, you had to aim precisely for the point where the Quaffle should bounce. Lavender was not a good thrower, nor was she a very good aim. She threw the Quaffle weakly, and it began falling after five meters. Ron didn't even have to try to block it.

Jason didn't score either, though he wasn't a bad shot. After the two attempts at feinting, he decided to throw subtlety out the window and just go straight for the center hoop. He threw the Quaffle hard, and though Ron caught it, he doubled over slightly and seemed in danger of falling off his broom.

Harry made a mental note to make him try out as a beater.

Colin was, to put it mildly, tragic. He did the same as Jason, except that he forgot to stop and simply pummeled into Ron, and both of them and the Quaffle flew through the ring. An interesting goal, but more a display of poor flying than anything else.

Ron was looking sullen as Ginny lined up for her shot. After only four attempts, he was battered and bruised, but thankfully, he remained focused.

Ginny sped straight for the center hoop as the previous two had done, but suddenly changed tack and shot for the left hoop, sending it neatly through.

"You're a very good liar," Harry heard Ron say to her, and he could swear that there was a proud note in his voice. "You didn't even look at the ring you were aiming for."

"I don't need to look when I know it's there, Ronald," she teased him, tweaking his long nose.

The next to groups were filled, for the most part, with total incompetents. Harry had no idea why they'd even tried out. While they all knew the rules and were pretty avid supporters of the game, most of them were either terrible fliers, or terrible aims. Ron even suggested that he simply sit down on the pitch and let them knock themselves out. Most couldn't score a goal even without a Keeper.

There were, however, a few exceptions. A fifth year boy with wild blonde hair made an exceptional shot that was so hard that when it hit the side of the goal hoop it very nearly made a dent.

Harry decided to try him as a beater as well.

A seventh year girl also made a very good shot then she feinted left and went right, scoring a neat little goal. She was quite good, and Harry also noticed that Ron was doing very well, taking into consideration that he was getting mauled by frequent rampant Quaffles.

"Just don't make me be the bludger target," he said wryly to him in between shots.

The last star of the day Anna, who was almost as good at Ginny at feinting. She'd confused the hell out of Ron by speeding up to the center ring, the feinting left, then right, the left again, then had flown around him in a circle, then over him and scored a goal. She was giggling like mad when she came back and blew him a kiss.

"That was original," Harry smiled at her.

"Well I had been planning something like Lara's, just not nearly as cool, but I decided that her little display was pretty much unbeatable and went for a little display of smart-arseism instead."

Harry grinned and the group headed down to the pitch. He conferred with Ron for a moment, who was happy to be down and immediately fell down and sprawled on the ground. Ron pretty much agreed with Harry on everything he wanted to do, and so, with his Keepers blessing, he began tryouts for the Beaters, where he asked Jason and the blonde boy, Bryce, to join in.

The task for the Bludgers were simple, and Hermione had shown up right on time. She was going to conjure an image of a Quidditch player, and the Beaters had to hit the bludger at it. If they hit is, the image would disappear. Again they would be judged on their flying, their aim, and their strength. It was no surprise that those trying out were all male.

Harry was pleased to see that all the aspiring Beaters were really quite talented. Seamus Finnigan had gone first, speeding up into the air after the image of a Quidditch player in Slytherin robes. The bludger came hurtling towards him and he readied his baton, slamming it into the bludger and sending it towards the phantom player. The bludger flew right through the image, which disappeared, and the Gryffindors broke into a cheer. Seamus was beaming as he landed.

"Good one," Ron called out.

Every single Beater managed to hit the phantom, however some took two tries, and so Harry had to rule them out. It was harsh, but they were such a good lot that it was hard to choose. In the end, he made those who'd hit the phantom in one try do it again, and again, until only two boys were left. It was pretty obvious to them that they'd been selected by elimination, and Harry congratulated them both. Seamus Finnigan and Bryce Taylor whooped with pleasure and high fived each other. It was then that Harry discovered that they were second cousins.

"So who is it out of us?" Lavender called out. "When do we find out?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other.

"You or me?" Ron asked, smiling. Harry could tell that he wanted to be the one to break the news. No matter where or what you were doing, the one to tell a girl good news invariably got hugged.

"You can do it," Harry grinned.

"Okay, the winners are...."

"It's not a lottery, Ron," Harry laughed.

"Oh. Sorry. Okay, the newest Chasers and subjects under this midgets dictatorial rule..."

Hermione let out a loud giggle and Ron winked at her. "In order of try-out... Lara Edwardson..."

Lara beamed with pleasure and ran up to Ron, giving him a tight squeeze. He patted her lightly on the back. "Good going Lara. Next Chaser is the infamous Ginny Weasley, known for her bat-bogey hexes and the polka-dot knickers that she used to run around the house in when she was four."

Ginny whacked him, giggling, then hugged him tight, just as Lara had done, and tweaked his nose again.

"And the last Chaser," Ron continued. "Is our very own lovely and Vampirical Anna White."

Anna laughed and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly on the cheek. He blushed and grinned at Harry. "So, that's our new team. Thanks for trying out, everybody."

"Yeah, you were all great," Harry lied. "Really good. It was a hard decision."

The disappointed Gryffindors trooped away as the new team grinned at each other, then, as one, let out a loud and triumphant cheer. Hermione wandered over, smiling, and hugged Ginny. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," Ginny laughed, turning and giving Anna a high five. "This is cool." "Sure is," she replied. She was leaning on Lara, who was quite tiny, and so made an excellent leaning post. Seamus snuck up behind Anna and lifted her up, spinning her around in a triumphant little dance as Ron did the same to Lara.

"Wow, how's the mood," Harry laughed to Hermione, who was also smiling. It was infectious. "Hey, how 'bout we all celebrate? You too, Herm. We don't have a team without your endless support."

Hermione giggled and whacked him.

"I'm all for the celebrating," Bryce agreed, pushing some of his blonde locks from his chocolate brown eyes. "But where? I mean, doing it in the common room would be a little cruel, if you know what I'm saying."

"Room of Requirement," Ron suggested. "Hell, it'll probably supply us with some Firewhiskey!"

"Shit, mate, I'm in!" Anna cheered from where Seamus was now giving her a piggyback. "Hell, I'm already half drunk and I haven't even had me any booze!"

"I thought Vampires couldn't drink normal stuff?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Special brand of lollipop," she smiled. "Intoxicated Irishman."

"This the new team then?" an all too familiar voice rained on their parade.

"Yeah, it is," Harry said, rolling his eyes at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. "What's it to you?"

"Two Weasleys," Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "The Weasel King and Queen."

Ron's facial expression didn't change. He simply drew his arm back and punched Malfoy in the nose. Blood spurted down his face, and Crabbe and Goyle moved to strike him back.

"Petrificus Totalus! Petrificus Totalus!"

Both Crabbe and Goyle froze and fell down flat on their faces.

"You broke my fucking nose, you bastard!" Malfoy screamed nasally at Ron.

Ron looked at him mildly. "Whoops."