You're Uninvited

"M-master," the trembling voice began. "It is possible."

The short, chubby man stood in the middle of the old house. They had been there together, three years before, in the same situation. The house still reeked of its inhabitants, although it no longer had its caretaker to look after it. It seemed to be the safest place - the only place to meet while he was still in such a dangerous condition.

The short man faced a high-backed chair by a fireplace. There were some swaddling blankets, and some semblance of a being enveloped by the blankets. He tried to tell himself that it was a little bundle of joy that was wrapped within the chair, but he was failing miserably. He knew what it was.

"How." It wasn't a question. It was a command.

The short man swallowed. "W-well, it is very ancient Dark Magic. I have never come across it before."

If the being could have glared at him, he would have. "I'm sure I am capable. I am well-versed in Dark Magic, after all. What is it."

"It is the bond that was created with the Dark Mark, milord," he responded hesitantly. "You put a bit of yourself into the Dark Mark. That is why it has been so... difficult for you to return to your former self. So many of the Death Eaters have died, and you have lost so much of yourself with them. However, if we were to revive the Death Eaters somehow, you would be able to draw on enough powe to return to your body."

If the Dark Lord could've frowned, he would have. "Are you insinuating necromancy, Wormtail?"

"Ahhhhh, yes, milord."

"Brilliant thought, Wormtail. However there is the problem that I cannot do magic in my state, and you are a complete idiot."

"Yes, master, I have thought of that as well. There is always the possibility of possession."

"Possession?"

"Yes, that's where you inhabit another's bod -"

"I'm well aware of what possession is, Wormtail. Your body is none too adept for possession. You still strongly resemble yourself, although the silver arm is a lovely touch." If the Dark Lord could have smirked, he would have.

"Milord, you could always inhabit another body."

"Such as?"

"A student's."

The Dark Lord cackled. "Yes, yes, I could do that. At Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts."

~*~§~*~

Harry Potter's seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had started out the same as every other year. Instead of spending the entire summer with his dreaded Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon (and fat cousin Dudley), he once again managed to sneak out of the house on his birthday, and off to his friend Ron's. This time, however, they had come on a flying motorcycle instead of Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia, which had been repossessed by the Ministry of Magic quite some time ago.

The summer eventually drew to an end, as days of playing Quidditch and eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans finally had to make way for days of Potions and Divination. Harry went with the Weasleys, as usual, to Diagon Alley the weekend before Term started. He was just about to enter Flourish and Blotts when he heard -

"Harry!"

Harry Potter turned around as he heard his name called. Of course, he didn't have to turn around to know who the bearer of the name was. He ran up to Hermione and threw his arms around her. He hadn't realized how much he missed her over the summer. Of course he had received her letters, but it wasn't the same. Finally the Trio was united again.

"Harry it's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, flashing a smile at him.

"It's great to see you too!" he replied, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "When did you get back from Italy?"

"Only a week ago. My mother and father were thinking about staying longer, but they wanted to be here to see me off. When did you get here?"

Harry studied her. The Italian sun had been kind to her, leaving little freckles across her nose. She was tanned all over, and her hair had somehow managed to get darker instead of lighter. He'd have to ask her about that one.

"Harry?"

He also noticed that she was dressing different too. Instead of wearing those dreadfully long skirts and tights that she normally favored, she was wearing a miniskirt, and a red blouse. Hmmm......

"Harry!"

Harry snapped out of his trance. "What, Herm?"

"I asked when you and Ron got here." Hermione had the same annoyed look on her face as when she had to explain Potions homework to him. "Honestly, Harry, if I didn't know better, I'd say your mind was off in fantasy land or something."

If she only knew. It was going to be an interesting term indeed.

~*~§~*~

Hermione and Harry had met up with Ron, and the three of them got lunch together at the Leaky Cauldron. No sooner had they exited the building that they heard that familiar voice. No, drawl was more like it.

"Scrounging through the rubbish not good enough for you anymore, eh Potter?"

Draco Malfoy had just spotted them come out of lunch, and was determined to welcome them to their seventh year properly.

"Go away, Malfoy." Harry did not want him to ruin a reunion between friends.

He flashed them all a dazzling smile. "But I find it so much more entertaining to make light conversation with you and the other two chipmunks. After all, this is Weasley's last year before he gets to go out into the real world and get a job."

"Lay off it." Harry took a step towards the blond-haired boy. He noticed Draco had grown a few inches over the summer, and his body had filled out considerably - lots of Quidditch training over the holiday, apparently. And although his voice was deeer than Harry's own to begin with, it had gotten even deeper still. It was a low grumble, like muffler that just wasn't working anymore, coming a long way from the whiny, high-pitched voice of their first year.

"We're the chipmunks," Draco went on singing in an annoying falsetto, ignoring Harry. "Alvin, Simon..."

"We get your point, Malfoy, now go away."

Draco merely grinned. "But I'm only trying to make light conversation! And besides, Weasley still hasn't talked to me about his job that he's taking after graduation."

Ron seemed to know where Draco was going with this conversation. "There's nothing wrong with that, Malfoy."

"Oh there plenty well is, and I'll let you in on it." Draco continued. "No secondary education, I imagine, but it's safe to say that your parents will welcome the extra money. However, can you really put a price on a good mind?" Draco was on a roll now. "Even if you could, Weasley, I doubt you'd fetch much."

"At least Ron will have a job," Hermione defended. Draco was getting to be too much for her, and the term hadn't even started. "At least he can say that he's not scrounging off of his parents for the rest of his life."

"And you know why that is, you filthy excuse for a witch? He could scrounge till the cows come home, and in the end, he would end up what he started with." He looked rather pleased with himself.

Hermione was furious, but Harry interjected before she could open her mouth. "Let's all go back to Hagrid before one of us does something we'll regret." The three friends turned away from Malfoy and began walking to Ollivander's.

However, Draco did not seem to be done with his insults. His voice took on an excessively mocking tone. "Yes, go back to your fat oaf, and tell him all about how that mean boy Draco teased poor Ronald Weasley." He paused. "And really, I do mean poor."

Ron spun around and had his wand out faster than anyone realized. "Stupifey!!" he yelled, and a fierce blue light shout out from his wand, aimed at Malfoy, hitting him square in the chest and knocking him backwards. He fell down hard, and Ron didn't stick around long enough to see how he felt when he woke up.

~*~§~*~

"I don't know if I can even bear another year with him," Ron complained shortly after they got on the train.

"Look at this way, Ron. It's our last year with him. After we graduate, we won't ever have to speak to him again. We won't ever have to hear the name Draco Malfoy ag -"

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron turned to where the voice was coming from. They saw a tall, brown-haired boy wearing general school robes. His hair was unusually spiked, and Hermione thought he had the deepest blue eyes that she had ever seen. So blue they were almost black, she thought to herself.

"Come on in," Harry replied graciously. "Are you new to Hogwarts?"

The boy smiled, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't know it was that obvious."

"Oh it's not," Harry reassured him. "Hogwarts is so small that everyone knows each other. You're too tall to be a first-year, so I'm guessing you're a transfer."

"Not exactly." The boy blshed for the second time that day. Hermione noticed that when he was embarrassed it was the only time he had any coloring. Other than that he was deathly white. "I was home-schooled, I guess you could say. I was introduced to magic through my parents, and they continued to teach me until -" he stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet." He stuck out a white hand to Harry. "I'm Dex Watson."

"Harry Potter." He shook the boy's hand.

Dex looked at him, showing a slight sign of recognition, but wanting to remain cool. "The same Harry Potter that defeated You-Know-Who?" Harry nodded. "Well, it's nice to meet you. The Wizarding World surely owes you a debt of gratitude." He turned to Hermione. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione stuck out her hand to shake it, but he didn't shake it.

"Bonjour, Madmoiselle Granger," he said as he kissed the top of Hermione's hand. "Perhaps I am going to enjoy my time at Hogwarts more than I had anticipated."

Oh brother. "I'm Ron Weasley." Ron offered Dex his hand, and he shook it. "What level did you say you were in again?"

"I'm seventeen," he replied. "But my at-home training has left me somewhat behind. I've met personally with the headmaster, and he's decided that I would be better off in sixth-year."

"Do you know what house you're going to be placed in yet?" Hermione inquired.

Dex flashed a smile at her. This one's a charmer, she thought to herself. "Not yet, Hermione. I have to be sorted with the first-years, although I am hoping to be placed in... Gryffindor, I believe it's called?"

"That's the house we're all in." Harry liked this boy already. He was nice, and at least understood the differences between the houses. That was more than most students could offer.

There had been only one other transfer student during Harry's schooling, Damiella Fedrova, or "Durmstang Damiella" as they called her. She had been a tall, auburn-haired girl with emerald-green eyes and was in Harry's class as a sixth-year. Damiella was fascinated by the Dark Arts, and had insisted on being in Slytherin. Lucky for her, that's where the sorting hat placed her.

However, unlucky for her, she dated Draco Malfoy towards the end of the school year. Things seemed to be going all right, until Draco's father Lucius became involved. After he discovered Damiella's Gryffindor lineage, there wasn't much left of her to talk about. But then again, these days there was much left of Lucius to talk about either. The Ministry finally caught up with him, and his unspeakable crimes to Damiella landed him a life term in Azkaban.

He lasted five weeks before he was kissed goodbye.

"Well, I think I can say for all of us that we hope you're in Gryffindor too." Harry looked over at Ron, who was not smiling. Well, maybe two of us. "Have a seat."

"Thanks." Dex sat down, and looked around nervously for a minute or two. His confidence in introducing himself had been shaken by Ron's lack of enthusiasm, and a flood of self-consciousness came back. He was still the new kid.

Hermione broke the uncomfortable silence. "So what brings you to Hogwarts? You're accent is not from around here."

"I'm from the States," he replied quietly.

"I've visited the States before, and I'm having trouble placing it." Hermione wasn't letting him off that easy.

He sighed. "I lived in Scotland until I was five. After that, my family moved to New York City, and I guess I picked up somewhat of a New York accent." He smiled sheepishly.

"And just decided to come back to England?" Ron finally spoke up, a little distrust evident in his voice. "After all this time?"

Dex's face turned solemn for a moment. "Like I told you, I was home-schooled until the end of last year. At the beginning of the summer, I lost my parents."

"Oh," Ron said quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Dex gave him a friendly smile. "It's all right, Ron. It wasn't exactly tragic circumstances," Harry winced, "but I lost them all the same. One day, I came home, just to find them gone."

Hermione had a sharp intake of breath. "Gone?" she asked tentatively.

"Gone, vanished, finito." He paused. "I didn't think anything of it, at first, just figuring they went out somewhere together. After a couple of days, I got worried and called some of my relatives, who came out to stay with me. We waited for a couple of months, and we didn't hear anything from them. The only contact we received about them was an envelope that held their wedding rings and a note that said 'don't bother.' So my grandfather, who still lives in Scotland, decided to take me in. He said it was time for me to go to school and be trained properly." Dex managed a weak smile. "So here I am."

Harry could only imagine the boy's pain. Dex had known his parents for sixteen years, and then they were taken away from him. He didn't know which would hurt more - never knowing your parents, or losing them consciously.

More silence followed. What can you say to a boy who had lost his parents only a few months before? He figured the answer to this was nothing, so he settled in for a little bit of rest before they got to Hogwarts. He was in the middle of a dream about Professor Trelawney, when all of the sudden, there was a loud, angry tap on the outside compartment glass.

Harry opened his eyes to see none other than the infamous Draco Malfoy standing there, only this time he was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He merely stared at Harry for a few seconds, and then disappeared down the corridor after a quick flutter of his eyebrows. Harry sighed.

"I may have misunderstood something, but what was that all about?"

Harry turned to Dex, who was sitting next to him. "You mean the bloke knocking on the window like a lunatic?"

"Yeah, him."

Harry drew in his breath. Where could he even begin? Perhaps a nominal introduction. "That," he began, "was Draco Malfoy, doer-of-all-that-is-Evil. We, er, don't get along too well." Harry hadn't wanted to frighten Dex away from Malfoy. Who knows, maybe the new boy and the Evil One were destined to become best friends. Not that Harry cared.

"He didn't seem too pleasant," Dex offered innocently.

Ron scoffed. "Malfoy generally dispenses with the pleasantries.

"However, if being a smug, arrogant bastard was considered being pleasant, Malfoy would get an 'A' in etiquette."

"And if hating each others' guts was graded, both Malfoy and Ron would be top of their class." Hermione smiled. "Although, Malfoy has read Hogwarts: A History. He's got you beat there, Ron."

Ron turned to his best friend. "And how in the bloody hell do you know that?"

"I was in the library once, using it as a quick reference," Hermione explained. "He came over to me, mumbling something about how he needed to finish reading it. He knew he had to be nice, or else I wouldn't have given it to him."

"And what did you do?"

Hermione smiled smugly, as if very pleased with herself. "I made him say 'please' when he asked for it and 'thank you when I gave it to him. Malfoy being humbled by a muggle-born, it was almost too much."

"You're too much, Hermione." Harry smiled. He loved that twisted and cunning side to her that rarely showed itself. "Well it seems that Malfoy has recovered from the little welcome back present Ron gave him."

Dex looked confused. "Recovered? What did you give him?"

Ron scoffed. "I hexed the bastard. Nothing says 'good to see you' like a little Stupefy. Of course, as far as Malfoy's concerned, nothing would say 'good to see you' more than a little Avada Ked -"

"The train should be approaching any minute now," Harry interrupted. He was still sensitive at the mention of the curse that had killed his parents. Especially when someone said it in such a common tone, as if it was no big deal. This bothered him. Not that he expected Ron to know that.

No sooner had Harry said cut off his friend, then the train came to a halt. The four of them got out and onto the waiting horseless carriages. As the carriages made at around the bend in the lake, the Castle came into full view.

Harry grinned broadly. It felt good to be home. "Dex," he said, swelling with pride and anticipation. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

~*~§~*~

Dex made his way up to the Great Hall with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Feels good to have friends, he thought to himself. While the other three made their way to the Gryffindor table, Dex hung back with all the first-years. He still needed to be sorted, and it seemed that the only way to do it was with a rather large group of terrified eleven-year-olds. Oh well.

"Pay attention students," a woman in front had said. Her eyes rested on Dex. "My name is Professor McGonagall. I will be leading you all inside the Great Hall, where the sorting ceremony will begin. The Sorting Hat will be determining which house you will be placed in, and there is no pleading with the Sorting Hat as to which house it will be." For a second, a look of repulsion swept over the woman's face, as if she was remembering an incident where someone had begged to be placed in a particular house.

"The Hat's word is final, and there will be no transferring between houses. During your time here at Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You will sleep, eat, learn, study, and grow with these people. Any questions?" Dex looked around him. If possible, all of the first-years' look of fright had grown to sheer terror. "Very well, then. You may all enter, and line up in front of the Head Table." With a flick of her wand, they entered in.

Dex had never seen anything as splendid in his entire life. The Great Hall was completely decorated with the colors for the various houses, right down to the ilver centerpieces for Slytherin house, or the inviting black cushions for Ravenclaw. It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

This was before he saw the ceiling. Looking up, Dex saw the pristine night sky, and hundreds of small, floating candles below it. Little pixies were dancing among the candles, teasing and playing with each other. It was all so amazing.

Dex took his place among the line of forty first-years. He was obviously taller than the rest of them, and it seemed as if the entire school had noticed this. The only thing that distracted him from the watching eyes was the ridiculous song the Sorting Hat was singing. Apparently it not only had the ability to designate houses, but to compose and sing as well. He would have to ask Hermione about that one. She seemed to know a lot about Hogwarts.

"Abbots, Gerald!" Dex watched a scrawny boy with blond hair make his way to the stool. He sat down, and the hat was placed on his head. It was only on for a moment when - "Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table roared with excitement. First person of the new year chosen as a Hufflepuff, that must mean something. As the noise died down - "Brenner, Maria."

Maria Brenner became a Ravenclaw. So did Heidi Brenner. Hmm, must be sisters. The Sorting Hat continued about its job. Dex began wondering how long this all would take. He began to look around at the houses, gauging the differences between them. The Ravenclaws looked like quite a bright lot. Maybe not the friendliest, but smart. The Hufflepuffs didn't exactly look like they fit in with the rest of society; but, of course, he was pre-judging. His eyes rested on the table decorated in Green and Silver. Slytherin. He had heard enough stories about Slytherin House to know that they were a rather unpleasant bunch. Judging by the looks of them, he didn't want to find out for himself just how nice they were.

And then there was Gryffindor. They were the most boisterous, loudest, and... happiest. Unlike the other houses, it seemed like the Gryffindors lived for the Sorting Ceremony. That was it. That was the house for him. He would make friends and fit in and -"

"Watson, Dexter!"

Dex stood up, legs a little wobbly. All those little kids made it look easy, he thought to himself, and sat on the stool. The hat was placed on his head, not covering his eyes as it had so many of the first-years.

Look at the loner we've got here, the Hat teased him. I sense a troubled soul. But you're brave. Oh, my, you're brave. Shy and humble too. But you've got a good heart. Like too have a good time, too? Of course. Let's make it... "Gryffindor!"

~*~§~*~

"Watson, Dexter!"

Harry looked up at the Sorting Ceremony. He saw the brown-haired boy approach the hat timidly.

"Look, Harry, it's Dex!" Hermione elbowed him.

Harry's brow furrowed. "I didn't know his name was Dexter. Hey, Ginny, have you met -" but his question was cut short when he saw the expression on his friend's face. "Gin?"

Ginny Weasley sat next to Harry, staring at the Ceremony. Well, no, actually she was just staring at the boy being sorted. After leaving her jaw hanging for a few moments, she regained her composure. "Who," she began timidly, "is that?"

Harry smiled. He had a pretty good idea what was going on. "That's Dex Watson. We met him on the train up here." Harry smiled at her. "Nice guy, that Dex. He's a sixth-year too. Why were you wondering?" he teased.

Ginny blushed. "Well, he, uh, just seemed a little bit older than the rest of the first-years. I mean, look how tall he is. I don't know any eleven-year-olds that have a body like that."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother. I think my sisters got eyes for Watson. You fancy him you think, Gin?"

Ginny Weasley gave her brother the look of death. If she could've hexed him then and there without getting expelled, she would have. "For your information, Ron, I just thought I should get to know the new students. You know, me being a Prefect and all." She flashed him a dazzling smile. "Not that you would know much about being a Prefect."

"Yes, Gin, I was so eager to follow in Percy's footsteps. Have fun with that one." But her insult had really gotten to him. Why hadn't I been made a Prefect? My grades are decent, I stick by the rules for the most part, and yet I wasn't a Prefect. Why? Because I'm not Harry Potter.

Ginny saw her brother's contorted expression. For an instant, she felt sorry for him. That was, until she remembered why she had insulted him in the first place. Let him suffer.

~*~§~*~

Dex made his way down to the Gryffindor table. He had gotten the loudest applause, and they bunch looked happy to have him. Grinning ear to ear, he sat down next to Harry.

"Congratulations, Dex, you did it." Harry patted him o the back.

"Thanks, Har -" but he stopped himself short. Sitting on the other side of Harry was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. She had long, red hair, and pale white skin. Her lips were the color of blood. Dex tried to act smooth. "Harry, I don't believe you've introduced me to your friend." He flashed a dazzling smile at Ginny.

"Of course, I'm sorry," Harry stammered. "This is Ginny, Dex. Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is Dex Watson."

Dex reached around Harry to grab Ginny's hand. He slowly brought it to his mouth. "Honored to meet you, Miss Weasley."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't get too excited, Ginny. He pulled the same suave routine with me on the train, didn't you Dex?"

"Ahh, yes, Miss Granger. But that was before I met Miss Weasley here." His attention focused completely on Ginny. "Ginny, you and Ron have the same last name. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you two were -"

"Brother and sister," they both finished for him. They glared at each other.

Dex laughed. "Haha, well then. I guess I'll just have to decide where my loyalties lie." He began picking at the food that had appeared in front of them. "So what year are you in, Ginny?"

She avoided his gaze. "Sixth."

"Me too. How are you in Potions?"

"Lousy."

"Me too. We can study together." He flashed another one of his dazzling smiles at her. "That is, if you want to."

"Of course I want to," she answered, perhaps a little too quickly. "Well, what I mean is that, uh, we'd work well together. You know, work-wise and all. And it can't hurt to study with a friend, can it? I can only think of one instance where it would be bad."

"Me too."

"That will never happen."

"Never say never, Ginny."

"Ummm," Harry interrupted. "Am I missing something?"

"No. I understand perfectly."

"I understand as well. I think we understand each other."

Ron shook his head. "You two are bloody weird. You met each other five seconds ago, and you're already into each other's minds. Just do me a favor: if you're thinking dirty things, keep them in your head. I don't want to hear these sorts of ideas from my sister."

"Dirty ideas? Ronald Weasley, if you EVER say anything like that about me again, I will send an owl to mum. Don't want mum to get too upset, do you know? Those howlers of hers have become well-known."

~*~§~*~

Harry entered the Gryffindor common room, chaotic as usual. He has almost forgotten the fun of the first day. First-years were huddled together, scared out of their wits. One of the upperclassmen (probably Ron, he thought) had taken the liberty of continuing the Great Feast in their common room. Just like the Gryffindors to know how to celebrate. He smiled to himself as he made his way through the boisterous crowd, and over to Hermione and Ron. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized to them. "I had to talk to McGonagall."

"We were starting to think you'd gotten in trouble or something," Ron offered as he grabbd a muffin.

"Gotten in trouble?" Harry had to smile at his friends' slight paranoia. "Ron, it's only the first day. We've been at Hogwarts for three hours."

"That never stopped us before, did it?" Ron quipped as he took another muffin. True, he and Harry never had to look far for trouble - it always seemed to find them. Harry remembered the incident back in his second year, when he and Ron flew an enchanted muggle car to Hogwarts. Not the most legal of entrances, but certainly the grandest.

"No, no, I guess not."

Ron scoffed. "Good lord, look at Ginny," he said. "She'd be on top of the new kid if she was any closer to him. And what is she laughing at, anyway? He didn't seem all that humorous to me when we talked to him on the train."

Harry followed Ron's line of vision, and sure enough, his eyes came to rest upon his best friend's younger sister. She was chatting animatedly with Dexter Watson, giggling and hitting him lightly on the arm every so often.

"Well they are in the same year, Ron, and he's new. Maybe she's just trying to be friendly to him," Hermione offered.

"Or maybe he's just trying to get in her knickers." Ron scowled.

Harry had to stifle a laugh. "Oh come on, Ron. You can't automatically think the worst of everyone. He's a sixth-year - how harmful could he be?"

Ron stared at Harry in amazement. "A sixth year? A sixth year?!? I was a bloody sixth-year once, and I can tell you what I though about all the time. Yup, I'm willing to be you a galleon that's what he's thinking about right now, too."

"You can't just assume that," Hermione said gently to him.

"Oh, but I can. I'm just going to have to keep an eye on this Dex Watson. Nobody, and I mean nobody is going to hurt my sister."

Harry and Hermione just stood there amazed, not quite knowing how to answer that.

~*~§~*~

"So, you're not any good at potions, huh?"

Ginny Weasley smiled. She had been standing in the Gryffindor common room talking to Dex Watson for over a half an hour. "No, not really," she answered shyly. "I'm all right at Defense Against the Dark Arts, though."

Dex smiled back at her. "That's where I need the most help. Hey, it looks like we'll make a pretty good study pair, huh?"

She blushed. "Yeah, I think we will." Ginny looked over at her brother. He was giving her a look of death. Stupid Ron. Figures he would know I liked Dex. I'll show him.

Dex followed Ginny's gaze, and saw a pair of blue eyes burning right through him. He quickly looked back at Ginny. "So, uh, what's it like having Ron for a brother?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "More like, 'what's it like having six brothers?' Bill and Charlie are sweet, and Percy's a prick, and Fred and George are cool and fun to hang out with, and Ron's just... Ron's a little overprotective. He's only a year older than me, but the way he acts like he's got the answers to the bloody universe or something like that."

"Well, maybe he does," Dex said, grinning.

She playfully tapped him on the arm. "I doubt my dear older brother, who has averge grades and isn't as adept at saving the world as everybody thinks he is, knows anymore about the universe than anyone else." She shrugged. "It's just the way he is. You know - sixth boy, he has to try and find a purpose for himself and all."

"I see." Dex looked over to the far staircase, and saw the other sixth year boys heading up it. "Well, it looks like I've got to be up there." He winked at Ginny. "I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, he ascended up the spiral staircase.

"Yeah," she said to herself, smiling. "See you tomorrow."

~*~§~*~

"I can't believe we've still got Potions with the Slytherins," Ron complained as he and Harry made their way up to the seventh-year boys' dormitory. "I mean, you'd think that the obvious hatred he has towards us, coupled with the obvious favoritism he shows that lot, that they would've separated us a long time ago.

"I don't think Dumbledore cares about that," Harry replied. "He's wants to encourage inter-house relationships."

"House relationships? He wants to encourage Snape to keep taking points off of us for no reason! It was his fault we didn't win the cup last year, and you know it."

Harry winced. The loss of the House Cup to Slytherin the previous year was still fresh in his brain. "Even so, Dumbledore wouldn't want to admit that Snape is a stupid git." He sat his trunk down at the foot of his bed and began unpacking it. He looked over to Ron, who was doing the same thing. "Ron, what's that?" he asked, gesturing towards a poster the redhead had just put up.

Ron blushed, blending his face with his hair. "Oh, that? It's, er, nothing."

Harry walked closer to his friend's bed. He let out a chuckle. "Ron, that's a poster of Viktor Krum!"

Ron got even redder. "Yes, well, er, he's doing quite well with Bulgaria isn't he? And after me and Hermione started going out fifth-year, I figured I could go back to liking him. Even if we did only date for a month, I guess I just kinda kept on being a Krum fan."

"He did play well at the Cup, didn't he?"

"He sure did! A Wronski Feint like that hasn't been executed since! And when he caught the snitch? That's supposed to be one of the ten most memorable Quidditch moments of all time."

"What's the first?" Harry inquired.

Ron smiled. "That time Third Year when you fell off of your broom and everyone thought you were dead."

"You're joking." Harry's voice was dead serious.

Ron chuckled. "Of course I'm joking, you knucklehead. Really, I don't remember what it was exactly - something like the Seeker managing to play all four positions within a single game or something like that. Anyway," Ron paused. "If you happen to talk to Krum... don't, er, mention this poster. Okay Har?"

Harry shook his head, amazed at his best friend. "Ron, I haven't owled him since Fifth Year. But, okay, I won't tell him."

Ron sighed. "Thanks, Harry. It means a lot." Harry only laughed.

~*~§~*~

"I trust you all did the summer assignments?" Snape sputtered as he walked into the room. No one had the courage to refute that claim. "Very well, then. Mr. Potter, what is the primary inredient in the potion to separate the soul from the body?"

Harry panicked. He had done the reading, of course, but apparently not close enough. "I'm sorry, Professor, what potion is this?" He was stalling for time, and Snape probably knew it. His only hope was that Snape would start harassing him, and forget altogether about the question.

"The potion that separates your soul from you body, Mr. Potter. I want to know the main ingredient."

"Ahhh, yes, the main ingredient. Well, uh, Professor Snape, it's uh..." Harry looked down. Hermione had written something on the cover of her book - Hukate Root, Harry.

He broke his concentration and looked Snape squarely in the eye. "Hukate Root."

"You shall thank Miss Granger after class," Snape replied icily. "I suspect she knew the answer to that question, as well. Unfortunate it is that we all don't have the wonderful privilege of having a best friend that is a know-it-all as well. However, I suppose not all of us have defeated the Dark Lord a dozen times. So perhaps you're entitled to it." He narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps, but not probably. No more funny business, Mr. Potter, or I will see that they have your wand for it."

Harry tried to appear as innocent as possible. "Honestly, Professor Snape, I didn't get the answer from Hermione."

"Very well then, Mr. Potter. If I wanted to bottle fame, how would I accumulate it?"

Hermione...?

A Penseive, Harry.

"Penseives are used, Professor." The look on Snape's face gave Harry all the satisfaction that he needed. He didn't need Hermione to tell him the rest. "While it is normally used to store thoughts, it can also be used to store emotions or general feelings."

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You may have actually learned something throughout your seven years here at the Incredible Hogwarts. It seems to me that even heroes need an education." His grin faded, and continued on with the rest of the class.

~*~§~*~

PLEASE email me and tell me what you think!! Even if you just send me a blank email, I'd love to know that people are actually reading it. WOOHOO I'm on snitchfiction!

Part 2 - Draco Does Decency

Draco Malfoy walked into the Great Hall, ready for dinner. He took his usual spot between Crabbe and Goyle and reached for the roast beef. Finally, it was dinnertime. If there was one thing he looked forward to, it was the time when he could just fill his mouth with food and not have to deal with Crabbe and Goyle thinking they were still friends.

He felt the slight pain on his arm. It had been growing stronger for about a week, and he hadn't done anything about it. He certainly couldn't go to Madame Pomfrey; she would die of a heart attack, come back from the dead, and then tell everybody about what was wrong with him. And he couldn't go to Dumbledore, that would be to risky and complicated.

Professor Snape could always help him. The Potions master has made it very clear after his father died that if he needed anything, not to hesitate to let him know. On the other hand, did he trust Snape that much? He had always been the grease ball's favorite, of course, but somehow he didn't think that the favoritism extended to Dark Marks and Death Eaters.

Who else would be able to do it? He hadn't done enough research himself to know exactly how to remove it. Who would know that much about something that they were never taught in class? Suddenly, it hit him.

Granger.

Goddammit.

His eyes shot over to the Gryffindor table - past Potter, the Weasleys, and some other dishy-looking kid Draco didn't know. And there she was, in all of her bushy-tailed glory. The Mudblood. She was the one who could help him - no one else. He would have to ask her.

It would go against everything he had ever stood for, everything he had ever been taught. Then again, look at the other wonderful things he had been taught. 'It's all right to kill people, Draco. Especially if they are muggles.' Yes, thank you for that advice, Father. Never hurt to kill innocent people. How's Voldemort doing these days, Father? Still getting his ass kicked by a teenage boy?

Yes, his father never was the best when it came to rational advice. 'We're better than mudbloods, even though there are mudblood wizards who are better than us.' Yes, Father, that makes sense as well. Over the course of the past few months, Draco was beginning to realize exactly who and what his father was. With his prejudices and warped sense of family values, Lucius Malfoy was nothing more than a murderer. And Draco didn't plan on following in his father's footsteps.

Granger could help him not to.

Draco pulled out his quill and a piece of parchment. He began writing, although he barely had one word down before Goyle elbowed him.

"Are you doing homework at the dinner table?" he asked.

God, could the morons be any stupider? "No, you fool, I am not doing homework."

Goyle nodded. "Good, 'cause the dinner table is for eating dinner. Who's the letter to?"

"No one," Draco answered quickly.

"Why write a letter if you're not going to give it to anyone?"

Draco stood up and began putting his things in his bookbag, stuffing the hastily-scribbled letter in his pocket. "Were you dropped on your head as a child or something? It's for someone; I just didn't want to tell you whom."

"Whom?"

"Yeah?"

"What's that?"

"Ugh!" Draco left the Slytherin table, and head over the Gryffindors. Sometimes he wondered why he put up with the two morons-for-friends that he called Crabbe and Goyle. Because your ass would've been kicked a long time ago if it wasn't for them. He grinned. Oh yeah.

~*~§~*~

"Harry do you want any of these potatoes?"

It was dinnertime once again in the Great Hall, and Harry was, as usual, surrounded by all of his friends. Harry nodded, and Ginny passed him the potatoes. Harry was glad that Ginny had gotten over her crush on him. Once she had stopped fearing him and started speaking to him, he had found out she was a pretty awesome girl, a lot like her brother. Not to mention, she was a hell of a Quidditch beater.

"Thanks, Gin," he offered, and scooped a big pile on his plate. He set the bowl down and turned t Ginny. "I was meaning to tell you, we will be starting Quidditch practice first thing next week." Harry was the Captain of the Gryffindor House team, and Ginny Weasley had been a beater for the past two years. "This year we'll be training earlier and harder. I'm not going to lose the House Cup again, especially my last year."

"Any word on another beater?" Ginny asked gently. Other than Ginny, the Gryffindors hadn't found a fair replacement for her brothers, Fred and George. Seamus Finnigan's spot on the team last year had cost Gryffindor the House Cup, and she knew Harry wasn't having an easy time forgetting about it.

"We can always have Ron," Harry replied. "We played a lot over the summer, and he's gotten better. He's not great," Harry paused to make sure that Ron wasn't paying attention to them, "but he's the best that we've got at this point."

"Maybe not," Ginny smiled, and leaned in closer to him. "You should have seen Dex today in Defense against the Dark Arts."

"What happened?"

She scanned around with her eyes, clear of all potential spies. "Professor Maijong let out a herd of Flying Blasters," she began. "They got out of control, and before she could release the spell to control them, she was knocked out cold." Ginny smiled, almost pleased with her professor's unconscious state. It was no secret that most students didn't particularly care for their new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. "At any rate, the Blasters were flying all over. Dex took his textbook, and thwack." She hit her fist to her open hand. "The Blaster not only flew into the wall - it became part of the wall. Nasty little mess, but he did the same with several others. If his aim is anything like his arm, the House Cup will have our name on it."

Harry's jaw was still dropped in amazement. He knew that Flying Blasters were no picnic. To manage to hit one, let alone to do that much damage... "You think he's really got it? I mean, I've noticed the way you look at him... but if you think he's really got the talent -"

"I do."

"--then I think that Dex and I are going to have to have a little chat. Hey De -"

But Harry was cut short by the person he had least wanted to hear. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Potty and the Weasel, the Mudblood, and the Weaslette. And, what do we have here? A new friend? Oh, goodie, a new Gryffindor. I truly do love it when unsuspecting people have the misfortune of being placed in this house." Draco swaggered over to where Dex was sitting, and extended to hand to the boy. "My name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Dex ignored the hand. "Dexter Watson."

Draco returned his hand to his side. He did not look happy. "Judging from your obvious display of animosity, I take it Potter and his court jesters have told you all about me. Fair enough," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "because I have heard all about you."

"Malfoy, if you had any brains, you'd leave right now," Ron interjected.

"Weasley, if you had any brains, your family wouldn't be so poor." Draco shifted his attention back to Dex. "I've heard about the incident today in Professor Maijong's class. Think you're pretty slick, eh, managing to take on the Flying Blasters?" Dex looked confused. How had he heard about that?

Draco ignored the boy's puzzled face, and continued on. "I suppose Potter's already told you that you'd be good to have on the house team, but if you know what's good for you, you won't take him up on it."

"House team for what?" Dex asked honestly.

"Well, we like to curl here during the winter," he answered him. "It's kind of a lost sport, don't you think? Curling needs more worldwide recognition!"

"Really?"

"No, you fool - Quidditch, of course," Draco spat, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Honestly, if brains were beauty, you'd be uglier than Granger. And that's saying something."

"Take that back, Malfoy," Harry stood up to defend his friend.

"Awww, whatsamatta, Potter? Don't like me picking on your little mudblood girlfriend?" He turned to Hermione. "Don't take that comment the wrong way, sweetheart," he sneered, giving Hermione a fake smile. "I seriously doubt he'd ever date you in the first place. What the hell are you reading, anyway? Don't you see that this dinner and not that prison-of-a-place that you call the library?" He grabbed Hermione's book from her, and flipped through it. "There aren't even any pictures."

"Ten points from Slytherin for your cheek, Malfoy!" Hermione shot back at him. "Pray I don't make it any more."

Draco slammed Hermione's book down in front of her and turned to Dex. "If you know what's good for you, Watson, you'll stay out of trouble." He paused. "Have a pleasant dinner. Try the mashed potatoes, they're smashing." And with a flutter of his eyebrows, he was gone.

Dex didn't know what to say. No one had ever been that cruel to him before, and for no apparent reason. "What did I do wrong?"

Harry shook his head. "You didn't do anything. Like I told you before, that's just the way Malfoy is." He looked over at Hermione. "'Mione, you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Hermione, honey, you can't let that poor excuse for a wizard get to you. You're beautiful; don't listen to what he says."

"I said I was fine." She picked up her book. "I'm going to go finish my reading in the library." And with that, she left.

~*~§~*~

Hermione had picked her book up off the table after that stupid prat Malfoy had left. When she opened it to continue reading, a piece of paper fell into her lap. She opened it.

Meet me in front of the Third Floor bathrooms as soon as possible.

DAM

A note? From Malfoy? What could this be for? As Hermione's mind raced, Harry began prodding her. 'Mione, you all right? She appreciated the concern, of course, but it wasn't the best time. She snapped at him, and left - not the most polite approach, of course, but definitely the most effective. With her in a huff, no one would dare follow her. They probably figured she was going to go cry about Malfoy's stinging words. Little did they know that she was going to take him head on.

Hermione headed up the stairs by herself to the third floor.

~*~§~*~

Harry watched her leave. He hadn't meant to insult her, of course. He would go up later and apologize. She could handle anything that Malfoy threw at her, and he should've been smart enough to realize that. So, he would go, and apologize.