Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

In the weeks that followed, Harry had little time to think about Professor Velange, or Sirius's reaction to her presence. He was working flat out just to make it through the mind-boggling amount of classwork he was assigned, in addition to his after-hour lessons with Moody, the Potions sessions with Malfoy and of course, Quidditch practice.

Professor McGonagall had been as good as her word. She observed the first team practice from the bleachers, her mouth pursed in a tight line. After thirty minutes, Harry was unable to stand the suspense. "Spot me, Neville," he called as he landed with a thud, hitting the ground somewhat harder then he had planned to in his eagerness to find out whether or not McGonagall approved of the team roster.

To his surprise, she gave him a slight smile as he took a seat next to her. "I stand corrected, Potter. The O'Toole's are natural players, and will serve as excellent reserves. And while Longbottom was a bit of a surprise choice for a reserve Seeker, he appears to be far more graceful in the air then I could have ever expected." Her attention returned to the field, and she said slowly "I suppose you're feeling a bit apprehensive about facing Hufflepuff?"

"Well, yeah," Harry said, feeling awkward about discussing this with a teacher. "I mean, we haven't played them since…well, you know."

"Since Cedric's victory. I won't deny it will be a difficult match for you mentally, Potter. However, I don't think it would serve you much good to delay the inevitable." She lay a gentle hand on his arm. "Surely you know that no one blames you for Cedric's death, Harry." Harry couldn't speak - he couldn't remember McGonagall ever calling him by his first name. "Professor Sprout and I have discussed holding a moment of silence to remember Cedric before the start of the match…how would you feel about that?"

Harry felt a great lump rise in his throat, and he struggled to answer normally. "I think Cedric would have liked that very much, Professor."

"Good. It's settled then." She rose, and gave him a quick searching look. "I am very pleased to accept this roster, Potter. Excellent work." With that, she left the stands, and Harry quickly headed back to the field. Seeing him return, the entire team headed back for the ground, and gathered around him.

"What did she say?" asked Michael, looking nervous.

"She's not going to make us wait 'till next year, is she?" Meghan asked anxiously.

"No…actually she commented on what excellent reserves you both were," Harry said, smiling a bit at their apprehensive faces.

"It's me, then, isn't it?" Neville put in. "She thinks I'll crash into the stands, or fall on Madam Hooch, or something, doesn't she?"

"No," Harry said, staring around at the grave faces around him. "Honestly, what's gotten into you lot? She was fine with the roster."

"Then why did you two look so serious just now?" Ron asked, frowning.

"She wanted to discuss having a moment of silence before the first match, to remember Cedric," Harry explained.

There was a long, uneasy pause. "Are you ok with that?" Angelina asked him gently.

"Absolutely," Harry said vehemently. "Cedric was a great player, I think this is the best way to remember him." Seeing his teammates unconvinced expressions, he sighed. "Seriously, I think it's a great idea." He changed the subject. "Ok, change it up - Meghan, you spot Angelina, Ginny - you spot Alicia. Seamus and Dean-"

"We know our positions, Harry." Seamus grinned at him. "Unless you wanted us to take over for you and Ron."

"Not exactly. Ron, would you mind spotting Katie for a bit, and Michael, if you could take over as Keeper?" What Harry wanted was a quick word with the senior players. While the reserves flew into the air, Angelina, Alicia, Fred, George and Katie stayed where they were.

"I think we should do something special to show we remember Cedric." Harry said. "We played against him, and I think it would mean a lot to the Hufflepuffs…show them that they aren't the only ones who miss him."

Fred and George looked at the ground. Angelina appeared to be fighting tears. "Harry, I don't know what to say…" Alicia said tremulously.

"I think it's a wonderful idea!" Katie said, wiping her eyes surreptitiously on her hand.

"But what do we do?" Fred said slowly. "I mean, we're having a moment of silence…what else does one do in a situation like this?"

None of them spoke. At last, Angelina said "I have an idea…."

***

October flew by in a whirl of classes, after-hours lessons, and practice sessions. Harry had begun to understand some of what Hermione had gone through their third year when she had taken every elective Hogwarts offered. His mind was so tired when he crawled into bed at night that it was only a few moments before he dropped off into sleep, a sleep free of nightmares about the evil wizard with serpentine red eyes. Before Harry realized it, he was waking up on Halloween morning. The Traditional Halloween feast was to be held that night in the Great Hall, and everyone in third year and above was looking forward to the school's first group Hogsmeade visit. Harry had been especially looking forward to this, as it meant that he and Ginny would be able to spend their afternoon together in the village. That is, if he managed to make it through the morning without strangling Draco Malfoy.

Despite his misgivings, Draco had turned out to be an excellent partner for the Impenetrable Potion…most of the time, anyway. Snape had been right - Draco really was an excellent Potions maker. He was thorough, attentive to details, and managed to catch flaws in their experiments before anything exploded. So far that term, he'd managed to prevent Harry from accidentally blowing off his eyebrows no less than three times, and had enthusiastically taken up the role of researching the effects of venoms as bases for formulas. In fact, so long as he and Harry were discussing the potion they were working on, thing between them were almost friendly. It was a different story, however, the second they stopped working on the project at hand.

Early into their project, Harry had suspected that the formula for the Impenetrable Potion had been flawed, even with the modifications he and Draco had made on it. He had volunteered to test their most recent version of the potion on himself, and Draco, not surprisingly, had been delighted to send a series of hexes and curses in his direction to test its strength. While the minor curses had bounced off him easily, Draco's Leper Curse managed to get through, severing Harry's right leg at the kneecap and making him fall forward onto his face while his leg shot across the room.

As Draco howled with laughter, Harry pulled himself upright off the cold tile floor and said "There goes my dream of ever replacing Michael Flatley…would you mind getting that?"

Still chortling, Draco retrieved the limb from over by the sink, and handed it back. "After seeing your pathetic attempts at dancing at Seges, I really think it would be more merciful on the female population to leave you like this, Potter."

"Ha bloody ha." Harry rolled his eyes, and attached the oddly bloodless leg with a tap of his wand. Standing, he ran a hand through his hair. "Obviously this still isn't strong enough for any real practical use."

"Not unless you're planning on using it against those Creevey brats or some other pathetic excuse for a wizard," Draco sneered.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry's response was automatic, and didn't have the usual tone of disgust that he reserved for his nemesis.

"Speaking of which," Draco dumped the rest of the potion into the sink, and then turned to face him, arms crossed. "When exactly were you planning to explain to me why you're working on this ridiculous recipe?"

"I would think that would be obvious," Harry retorted. "Or didn't your father share his exploits of last spring with you?"

Draco's pale eyes glittered. "Bit risky, working with yours truly on this, isn't it?" he asked silkily.

"Not exactly…at least if I get poisoned, they'll know who to blame," Harry answered shortly.

"Not to give you a big head, Potter, but if you think I'm the only one who'd show up on that list of suspects, think again." While Draco set up another cauldron so they could try again, Harry watched him closely. Why had Snape insisted that Malfoy help him? If Snape was truly on their side, wouldn't he want to protect the knowledge of this newest weapon, assuming they could ever get it to work, from falling into the wrong hands?

"Take a photo, Potter, it'll last longer," Draco said, not taking his eyes off the cauldron as he added their revised ingredients.

Harry didn't reply, pulling out his wand and pointing it directly at Malfoy. When Draco looked up from where he had been thumbing through a spotted reference book, he blanched. "All right, forget what I said earlier…you're really quite a graceful dancer…."

"I don't know why Snape assigned this project to the two of us, Malfoy, but he did. And whether or not I like it, that means I have to trust you to some extent," Harry said slowly, not liking the thoughts that had sprung into his mind. "But if I find out you've betrayed a word about this to your pathetic excuse for a sire and his lumbering sidekicks, I will make the Marquis de Sade seem like a warm and understanding man. Are we clear?"

"You need more to back up that threat than just a menacing voice and a pointed wand, Potter-" Malfoy started, but Harry moved quickly and slammed him upside the classroom wall, his wand still aimed at his throat.

"Do. You. Understand?" Harry's eyes were like icy sparks of flint.

Malfoy glared at him. "Trust is a two-way street, Potter." His eyes darted down to where Harry's wand was a mere inch from his larynx. "I'm pretty good at playing in traffic - what about you?"

Harry let him go, feeling the adrenaline surge through him. He didn't know exactly what Malfoy had meant by that last bit, but for some reason he couldn't explain, he felt he could trust him on this. Almost.

Harry had resumed crushing bits of Erumpent horn in his pestle - they'd determined that the original sandalwood wasn't strong enough to repel anything stronger then the Curse of the Bogies, when Malfoy spoke again. "Visiting Hogsmeade this afternoon?"

"Yes," Harry said shortly, wondering where this was going.

"With Weasley, Weasley and Granger?"

"Well, I did have to turn down that tempting invite from Bulstrode, Parkinson and Nott but we all have to make sacrifices," Harry said.

"How does Granger feel about the invasion of her turf, Potter?" Draco asked with a smile. "To have her precious threesome invaded? Force her to actually choose between you and the Weasel? She must have been devastated to find out you'd moved on to other pastures."

"You don't even know her, Malfoy!" Harry snapped. "They have a name for your condition, you know - and while imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, stalking is just downright creepy!"

"Just keep telling yourself that, Potter." An odd look crossed Draco's aristocratic features. "Remember what I said about bad boys? Believe me when I tell you, good girls find them positively irresistible." He dropped his voice and said, "Assuming she's still a good girl, of course. After spending the summer with Krum, I wouldn't bet on it…"

The sound of voices made them both fall silent, although Harry continued to glare at Malfoy. Why is he so obsessed with Hermione? he fumed silently.

Snape entered then, followed by Velange. They were both laughing softly at some private joke, although the amusement on Snape's face vanished the instant he spotted Harry. Velange, however, appeared intrigued at seeing Malfoy and himself. "Catching up on potions, are we?" she smiled.

"Special project," Snape clarified. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy are working on a potion version of the Impenetrable spell."

"Really?" Velange looked impressed. "That's a great deal beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level, isn’t it?" She came to stand beside Draco, peering down at their notes. A moment later, she looked at Snape. "Do you normally allow your students to experiment with Erumpent horns and powdered Manticore skin?" Her tone was harsher then usual, and Harry thought she looked angry.

"Only under special circumstances," Snape said mildly.

"Malfoy's done a great deal of research into the use of them for potions, Professor," Harry said quickly. Malfoy's ears went pink.

"I see," said Velange slowly. Her eyes were intent on Malfoy's face. "Such information is highly classified, and protected by the Ministry. I was unaware that Madam Pince was allowed to house it in the school library, even in the restricted section." Now Malfoy was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Harry wondered wildly where he had gotten his information from, if not from the library.

"My father's library houses some especially old and rare books on Potions," Draco said grudgingly. "I borrowed them to work on this." Harry stared at him, and cursed himself for not asking more about Malfoy's references. Did Lucius Malfoy suspect what Harry was working on?

"Very resourceful of you," Velange said, her tone reminding him eerily of Professor McGonagall's when she suspected that a student was up to no good. She didn't waste any time in lingering by their cauldron, however. "I'll see you both at the Feast then, shall I?" With that, she left the room quickly, without saying so much as a 'good bye' to Snape.

Snape stared moodily after her, before giving both boys a murderous glare and swiftly heading for his office.

"What was Velange on about?" Draco asked, sounding somewhat alarmed.

"I guess she doesn't trust your father either, Malfoy." Harry slammed his notes shut, and began packing up his bag.

"Where in blazes do you think you're going?" Draco asked, startled. "I'm not cleaning this up by myself, and anyway, we're supposed to let it simmer for twenty minutes before we add the Manticore skin-"

"I'm going to go talk to Snape, and ask him why the hell he thought I should be working on something this important with you! I don't know what I was thinking, telling myself you could be trusted!" Harry snapped. "Guess that Malfoy charm really is blinding in its affects, as I managed to forget just who I was working with - the son of a Death Eater, heir to his big evil throne." Hastily swinging up his bookbag, Harry ignored Malfoy's splutters of rage as he headed directly for Snape's office door, not bothering to knock as he swung it open.

This, it turned out, was a mistake. Harry almost yelled in surprise at the sight of his godfather's head speaking from amidst the flames in Snape's fireplace. Whirling on him, Snape pulled him roughly inside the office, and slammed the door shut. "You abysmally foolish boy!" Snape said in an icy voice that left Harry's skin crawling. "Have you any idea what you almost did?"

Harry looked from Snape to Sirius. "I'm, I'm sorry!" he managed to get out.

Even Sirius appeared upset. "Not that I'm not pleased to see you, Harry, but Snape's right - imagine what could have happened! And in any event, you should have knocked." A malevolent grin crossed Sirius' features. "Who knows what you could have walked in on?"

Snape glared at him. "I'll speak to you later, Black. Your godson and I need to have a word."

"Don't think for a second that we won't finish that conversation, Snape." Sirius' expression was almost frightening as he looked at Snape, before he nodded to Harry and vanished with a faint pop! Snape practically shoved Harry into a high-backed chair, while he eyed him suspiciously, his slightly purple face changing back to its usual sallow colour. "For your sake, I sincerely hope I find whatever you charged in here to ask worth your complete lack of manners, Potter. You interrupted a conversation I have been trying to have for weeks, and with Black still on the run, it isn't an easy thing to rearrange."

"Sorry, Professor." Harry muttered. Snape looked taken somewhat aback, and Harry realized he had never said the word "sorry" to him in his life. Taking advantage of the Snape's momentary shock, he plunged on. "Professor Snape, why exactly did you assign Malfoy to work with me on the Impenetrable Potion? I mean, I know he's an excellent student of yours, but surely Hermione would have been a more, er, suitable choice?"

Snape didn't answer for a long moment. Finally he said in a measured tone, "I understand that Hagrid has you working on Kammels in his class?"

"Yes, but what does that-" Harry started to ask, confused, but Snape continued.

"I believe that Draco Malfoy is in your Care of Magical Creatures class, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry slowly, still not sure where on earth Snape was headed with this.

"Do I have to really have to spell it out for you, Potter?" Snape sneered. "How did the Kammel react to Mr. Malfoy?"

"It didn't, at least, not until he insulted it." Harry answered. He stared at Snape. "Are you trying to tell me that Malfoy's not -"

"I cannot believe that I am forced to break this down for you, Potter, not after I tolerated listening to Helena Velange praise your performance in her class for the last twenty minutes!" Snape sat down across from Harry, and said in a low voice. "May I remind you that part of her class is in learning to recognize what makes a wizard chose to embrace the Dark Arts, because it might possibly give you the chance to convince them to chose the other path?" He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Harry, whose eyes widened. Malfoy?

Snape continued in that same low voice. "This potion has been overlooked for centuries due to its instability, Potter. Any volumes that might have been used to strengthen it have fallen into the hands of wizards who do not want it to be improved upon - a rather convenient set of events, wouldn't you agree? The largest collection of such books is kept by none other then Narcissa Malfoy, who was an outstanding Potions student during her time here. Who else would have access to it, besides her son and her husband?" He stood, and opened the door, indicating that Harry should leave. "I suggest that you follow my instructions, and find a way to work with Mr. Malfoy, or else you have as good a chance of being invited for tea by Cornelius Fudge as you do of finishing that potion. Good day, Mr. Potter." And with that, he shut the door quietly.

Malfoy was simultaneously flipping through a copy of Which Broomstick and copying notes on the revised potion when Harry returned to their desk. "I assume you're ready to play nice, Potter?" he asked coldly.

Harry looked at Draco. In his mind, he could see the first time they'd met at Madame Malkin's. In his own bizarre way, Draco had attempted to be friendly to him. And if Harry could somehow convince him to turn away from the master his father so willingly served…he swallowed his pride and said, "I'll finish up here, Malfoy. No point in us both ruining our mornings, watching a pot boil."

Draco's pale blonde eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Did Professor Snape bash you on the head with a cauldron, by any chance?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Harry answered with a sigh. This was going to be a great deal harder then almost anything he'd ever done, including taking on the Horntail.

"Hit you with a memory charm? Make you drink a Forgetfulness Formula? Cosh your head on the door?" Draco continued, warming to his subject.

"I just thought you might, you know, like a break," Harry said, trying not to sound annoyed.

"I promised Professor Snape I wouldn't leave you alone in here, Potter. For some odd reason, he seems to think you might try and wreck the place." Malfoy crossed his arms, and looked resolute. "Besides, we still have to add the rowan berries and rue, and you know they need to be strictly timed or else the whole lot blows up."

Harry just nodded. "Thanks, Malfoy," he said quietly.

Was it his imagination, or did Malfoy actually look pleased ?

***

They logged their newest version of the Impenetrable Potion, which this time managed to withstand every hex Draco could think of for a full ten minutes before the affects wore off. Harry had to speak in limericks for a quarter hour before Draco could stop laughing long enough to perform the counter curse. Despite his annoyance at hearing Draco imitate his recitation of "There was a young stunner from the Burrow; who's prettier then, say, Moaning Myrtle….", he was quite pleased with their progress. Despite his weeks of practice with Moody, he still hadn't managed to get an Impenetrable Spell to last longer then a few minutes. Somehow the knowledge that he was quickly making headway on a potions version of the same made him more confident that he would accomplish the other shortly. Right now, he just wanted to focus on the Hogsmeade visit, the Halloween celebration, and most importantly, his first semi-official date with Ginny.

It was semiofficial because neither of them had the nerve to talk about it with anyone else. Not that Ron didn't have his suspicions that something was definitely afoot between his best friend and his sister. He'd been harassing Harry about it every day: on the way to class, during class - and had managed to cost Gryffindor 30 points along the way. He didn't seem to want to take "Sod off" as an answer, either.

Harry didn't know why he and Ginny were both so conscientious about keeping their burgeoning romance a secret, but he knew he wasn't the only one staying mum. Just yesterday, he'd overheard Ginny flatly denying to a disbelieving Parvati Patil that she'd been staring at him in the Common Room. "Sorry, Parvati, I'll leave the obvious ogling to you and Lavender," he'd heard her snap just before she had stormed up the stairs.

He hated lying about anything to Ron and Hermione, but for some reason he wanted to keep this for himself. When he and Ginny did manage to get a few moments alone, it was as if they were in a world only they could see. No longer tongue-tied in each other's presence, they talked about everything: classes, Voldemort, teachers, Voldemort, Quidditch, and Voldemort. It was a novelty for Harry to be able to talk to anyone who understood what he had gone through, and he found himself opening up more and more about the events of the Triwizard Tournament and its immediate after-effects.

But he didn't plan to talk about anything so glum today. It was a cool crisp fall day; the leaves were displaying their full myriad of fall colours, the air had the scent of fire and earth, and all he wanted was to enjoy his first ever date. Pulling on a pair of black corduroys and a scarlet jumper, he opted against his cloak and headed downstairs. Ron and Hermione were already there, looking impatient to get going.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked, nervously flattening his hair to his forehead.

"Upstairs," Hermione answered, giving him a curious look. "Your hair's fine, Harry - quit fidgeting already."

"Right," he answered. He slipped his hands in his pockets, and found that he was tapping a fast staccato beat against his thigh.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." Hermione stood up, and headed up the stairs, returning a minute later with a blushing Ginny. "Will you two just admit you're together already? It's exhausting work for the rest of us, trying not to notice all the furtive looks and googly eyes!"

Harry ignored her, and Ron's snort of laughter. Ginny looked wonderful, in a camel sweater and matching glenplaid skirt. The warm colours brought out the coppery highlights in her hair. "Hi," he said softly.

Behind him, Ron was pretending to gag. "Shut it, Ron, or I'll tell Hermione what you were saying about her in your sleep last night." Harry said, without tearing his eyes away from Ginny. She grinned and reached over to take his hand.

"Very smooth," she whispered.

"I learned from the master," he answered, his eyes dancing. "Coming, you two?"

The two couples made their way out of the Common Room and out of the castle. As they walked across the grounds towards Hogsmeade, they discussed the Feast that night.

"I heard Dumbledore set up a haunted house for the entertainment," Harry said.

"Really? Hannah Abbott told me she overheard Sprout and McGonagall talking about a masquerade party, but I think if he was having one of those we'd know by now." Ron put in. He looked at Ginny inquiringly. "Any rumors floating around your year?"

She giggled. "Always. But about tonight? Just that the dancing skeletons have apparently broken up and gone for solo careers."

Hogsmeade looked like a picture from a book. There were brightly coloured wreaths on the doors, cornucopias in the windows, and Harry smelled the unmistakable scent of hot cider coming from more than one kitchen. After a quick stop in Zonko's so that Ron and Harry could stock up on dungbombs, ("How old are you?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.) they stopped in Dervish and Banges. Hermione and Ginny were soon lost in a rack of books with titles like I'm Gonna Wash that Warlock Right out of My Hair, Single White Sorceress, Cauldron Cake Detectives, Of Mad Muggles and Englishman, and He had on Lovely Silk Knickers, too. Harry could hear them giggling two aisles away, while he and Ron busily flipped through the latest issues of Which Broomstick, Quidditch Quarterly, and Sorcerer Sports Illustrated.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you'd think we'd be enough inspiration for them…last weekend Hermione bought a three volume set of that trash. Snogs in the Study, Lust in the Library , and Passion on the Pitch. I mean, I'm glad she's reading that instead of Hogwarts: A History for the umpteenth time, but it does make a bloke feel a bit sub-standard."

Harry grimaced then. He'd just caught sight of Tarot for the Traumatized and was sharply reminded of his last Divination lesson with Trelawney.

He'd yet to take the Tarot cards she'd given him out of their silk bag, let alone bonded with them. And he'd deliberately kept his mind almost a complete blank when they'd practiced their Tarot readings in class. He wasn't sure what had caused his last fateful reading, but he didn't want to risk it happening again. Trelawney, however, seemed unfazed by his rebellion. At the end of their last class, she'd asked him to stay behind.

Harry had been prepared for a lecture, or another of Trelawney's trademark dramatic predictions. He'd been stunned when she did neither of these. "Developing the Sight is a frightening process, my dear boy, but I daresay you've survived worse. However, running from your fate won't prevent it…the longer you suppress your gift, the worse it will be for you. The Inner Eye doesn't enjoy being ignored." With that, she had written him an excuse for being late to Velange's class and waved him out the trapdoor.

Ron turned to see what he was looking at, and made a face. "Gods, Harry - do you have to ruin a perfectly lovely day by thinking about Trelawney?" He picked up his three magazines and headed for the witch behind the counter. "Why don't you see if the drool-fest has ended and we'll all meet outside."

Harry snuck up behind where Ginny and Hermione were giggling and reading Confessions over Cauldrons. At his gentle tap on her shoulder, Ginny squealed and accidentally threw the book into the air. "Harry!" she gasped, as Hermione burst into a fresh wave of giggles.

Jumping nimbly, he caught Confessions over Cauldrons. "Oh, give that here," Ginny began, turning scarlet.

"Not on your life," he grinned at her. Instead, he added it to his magazines and headed for the checkout counter. Too shocked to protest, Ginny and Hermione followed him.

"Interesting read," commented the witch, as she neatly wrapped his purchases in brown paper. "My personal favourite is Skyclad Snuggles."

"I'll have to pick that up next time," he said. As the three of them left the shop, he distinctly heard the witch mutter "Harry Potter - tawdry trash tosser…who knew?"

They bypassed the Three Broomsticks in favor of the Hog's Head, as Ginny had never been inside. There were only a few Hogwarts students inside, Cho Chang among them. She waved at Harry but didn't leave her table, where she sat talking to Roger Davies. Harry couldn't help feeling relieved by this - Ginny's expression had been anything but friendly as she looked at the Ravenclaw girl.

Rene came by, and while Ron ordered a pint of mead, the other three stuck with butterbeer. They were so busy talking about the upcoming match against Hufflepuff that the sound of an amplified woman's voice made them all jump.

"Good afternoon." It was Lauren Velange, this time with only two other guitarists and a different drummer. That must be the real drummer, as Snape was filling in the last time. "Blessed Samhain, or Happy Halloween to you all. This isn't really a performance, more of a jam session really…feel free not to clap, just try not to jeer too loudly, it tends to upset Cole." The guitarist with the long black hair laughed and started playing.

Unlike the night of the Seges party, when the Spirit Room had clearly put on a practiced performance, this was more of a casual sing-along. The two guitarists, whose names turned out to be Cole and Colum, did most of the singing, with Lauren happily playing her own guitar. The music varied, from traditional folk tunes, to more modern songs. The people in the pub directed much of the music selection, yelling out their favourites and singing along. Not a few of the songs were quite raucous, but Hermione and Ginny merely laughed and sang along.

"This place is incredible!" Ginny said in Harry's ear. "Why didn't we ever come here before?"

"Didn't think about it - everyone just automatically went to the Three Broomsticks," he answered. They had to sit very closer together in order to hear what the other was saying. Harry slipped an arm around her shoulders. She blushed, but reached over to hold his hand.

Just as the band announced a break, Harry heard a familiar voice. "Well, well - this certainly is cozy." Harry quickly released Ginny, who went very red.

"Bill!" Ron looked stunned. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking in." Bill looked amused. "Ginny, I'm quite upset with you!"

"Why?" she asked, looking shocked. "We were just holding-"

"My baby sister went and grew up on me, without so much as asking." Bill's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Harry. "Of course, I would like to make sure that you're the only girl Harry is currently seeing...he had another for his Seges date, you know."

Harry started to explain, but Ginny cut him off. "Don't be ridiculous, Bill. Of course I know that Harry and Cho Chang went together to the Seges…you do know who she is, don't you?"

Bill looked surprised at this show of spunk. "Sorry, no."

"Cho dated Cedric Diggory last year," Ginny said softly, not wanting her voice to carry over to where Cho and Roger were sitting.

"Oh. Right." Bill had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry about that, Harry - older brother's duty and all."

"It's ok," Harry answered him with a smile. "No less then I expected of you."

"I'm glad to see that you all came back for more," said a voice behind Bill. Lauren Velange grinned at them. "I take it that means you had a good time at Seges?"

"Wonderful!" Hermione smiled at her. "Your sound is so different today, it's almost like another band."

"You could say that," Lauren answered. Her eyes were on Bill, and she didn't seem to be really listening to what Hermione was saying.

"I don't believe we've met," Lauren said, in a voice that made Harry feel as though he'd just plunged into a very hot bath. "I'm Lauren."

Bill's expression never changed. Harry was impressed - he'd always thought of Bill as cool, but this just clinched it. "Bill Weasley," he said, looking amused.

Lauren looked like a cat who had just discovered a bowl of cream. "Buy you a drink?" she asked, not waiting for an answer as she placed a small hand on his arm and steered him towards the bar. Bill didn't seem to object.

"I don't believe it!" Hermione hissed. "She didn't come over to say 'Hi' - she came to talk to Bill!"

Ginny just laughed. "Hermione, believe me when I say that's not the first time something like this has happened."

"Remember in Egypt when he was dating those twins and their cousin started chatting him up right in front of Mum?" Ron snickered.

"But she's treating him like…like a boy toy or something!" Hermione looked shocked.

"And he's really beating her off with a stick." Ron said. "He just hates it when beautiful women buy him alcohol - says it gives him nightmares." Seeing Hermione roll her eyes, Ron said soothingly "So she didn't come over to say "Hullo" to a group of students who heard her play exactly once…what's the big deal?"

"It's rude," Hermione said, looking somewhat sulky.

"Bill has that affect on women," Ginny said, looking as though she was trying not to laugh. Harry just shook his head. It looked as though this male/female thing didn't get any less complicated as you got older.

After he and Ginny finished their butterbeers, they decided to go for a walk. Ron and Hermione wanted to stay at the pub. "We'll see you back at the Feast, then." Ginny said brightly. She and Harry waved at Bill, who was still talking to Lauren. Harry was no expert on the matter, but he thought Bill looked just as mesmerized by Lauren as she did by him.

As neither Harry nor Ginny had any real errands to run in the village, they decided to take advantage of the unusually good weather and simply walk. Holding hands, they made their way up the hill and ended up at the Shrieking Shack.

"This place just reeks of bad karma," Ginny said, giving a slight shudder.

"Well, it would, seeing as to how it was basically a prison for Lupin all those years." Harry looked at the dilapidated house, remembering the depressing inside. How had Lupin been able to stand it? he wondered, not for the first time. "Forget the isolation that must come with being a werewolf, but to have to spend one weekend a month trapped, in pain and not being able to share it with anyone?"

Ginny nodded. "It explains a lot about him, you know. Even when he smiled, something in his eyes looked…you know, lost."

Harry suddenly felt very cold. An icy breeze seemed to have come from no where, and crept right into his very bones. He tried to say something, but nothing came out.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, sounding very far away. "HARRY!"

"HARRY!" He opened his eyes. Ginny was kneeling next to him, her face very white. "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm fine," Harry tried to say, but he felt as though his mouth had been stuffed full of cotton. Shivering, he reached up to brush the hair back out of his eyes and realized his skin was covered in cold, dank sweat.

"Come on, we're getting you back to the castle," Ginny said, pulling him to his feet. The world spun, and he grabbed at the broken fence that surrounded the Shrieking Shack, trying to right himself. A bit of wood splintered , sending a sliver deep into his finger and drawing blood.

The blood was like a spotlight in his now hazy world, a gleam of red in an otherwise gray world. Gray, like the mist that had surrounded the island. Gray, like the fortress. And red, like Voldemort's eyes. He heard the screams in his head. And then he knew….

Harry stared down at the now very frightened Ginny. "They're gone," he gasped.