Life Study

Tuesday afternoon Tom slipped away back to the Slytherin common room. Most of the older students had a class at this hour, but first- and second-year Slytherins had a coinciding free period; he had finished the History of Magic essay that had most of his classmates haunting the library, and since they were occupied, perhaps the place was quiet enough... aah, yes, there was Peony Parkinson in a corner behind a stack of books. He walked over and sat in a nearby chair. "Hullo, Peony. Charms homework?"

She didn't quite jump but did look up sharply, then nodded. "I think it's going well."

Tom smiled. "Well, only to be expected. I used that color-freezing charm of yours in one of my extra sessions in Magical Creatures -- it worked great."

Peony brightened. "Did it? That's good."

Tom nodded. "Ginny -- that's Ginny Weasley, Hagrid has her supervising the extra practice -- was particularly impressed. She's been working on something similar, just the other way around, changing colors instead of keeping them the same."

Peony half-smiled. It was nice to have impressed another student, though she wasn't sure she wanted the attention from Gryffindors.... "That sounds interesting."

"Well... the reason I bring it up is, we've been studying together for some other subjects too-like Potions, in particular. It's been a big help. And I was wondering if you might want to join us occasionally. It's not like you need the help in class, obviously, but it'd be a chance to work with some of the second-year material -- and, well, you wouldn't have to worry about sneaking your study periods in when the common room was empty." Tom shrugged. "It's no pressure, you can say no if you want. I just thought it might be fun."

Peony hesitated. "I... don't usually study with anybody. Wouldn't I bother you?" The Weasley girl she knew of, but not much about that wasn't just hearsay. Tom was always nice, though, which was fortunate since he had a habit of noticing she was there even when she was busy. He was one of very few other students who were aware of her quiet working ahead.

"No, I shouldn't think so. Remember, we started this for Magical Creatures, so we've got kind of a high disturbance threshold." Tom grinned. "And it's always a good idea to have an independent point of view around. D'you know how many other people thought of applying Charms lessons to Care of Magical Creatures?"

"...No?"

"Nobody. Pretty much everybody was just trying to tackle them. If you've got any more ideas like that, I know I'd like to hear them. And Ginny would too."

Peony felt slightly daunted, but said, "It sounds like it could be helpful...." Getting a good look at what the second-years were really doing would be nice, too.

"And fun, too, don't forget. Part of the reason I pitched the idea to Ginny was, I've seen you all by yourself a lot, and I think you two would get along pretty well."

"She is a Gryffindor," Peony pointed out a bit uncertainly. Of course, that didn't seem to prevent Ginny from studying with Tom -- or Tom from being on good terms with the cluster of Gryffindors usually surrounding Harry Potter.

Tom shrugged. "If this ends up forging some more ties between the houses, I won't say I'd be unhappy. Slytherin has... well, you've run into our reputation by now, I'm sure, and I'd kinda like to show people we're not all, say, Malfoy, or Jonas Derrick. And show Slytherins that the other houses aren't the enemy."

Considering nobody but Slytherin ever cheered for Slytherin no matter whom they were playing.... Peony shrugged. "Well, she can't mind it too much or she wouldn't be working with you, would she." She smiled. Impishly. Then again, Tom was a boy and admittedly... rather fit. Even if everyone said the Weasley girl had a crush on Harry Potter, that might not hurt.

Tom grinned back. "Well, no. I'm starting off easy, with people who already get along with me. And the whole thing is just a new idea, it started off as 'Gee, nobody in Slytherin wants to work with me and I'm failing two of my classes.'"

"I'd heard you were at the top of most of them."

"Well... near, anyway. But I was absolutely hopeless in Magical Creatures, and Professor Snape kept putting Ginny and me together in Potions with... explosive results; she used to get a little nervous."

Peony nodded. She'd heard some of the stories. "Why'd she calm down?"

"We started talking instead of spilling things on each other." Tom grinned. "Worked amazingly well."

"And then started spilling things on Professor Snape instead?" Peony asked with a hint of disapproval. Nobody really believed that had been an accident, especially not once word got out that Creevey had pictures.

Tom coughed. "Well, only the once. And he could have picked different lab partners for us any day, so we figured a little payback for my temporary second nose wouldn't hurt anybody."

"I'm surprised he didn't after that."

"He couldn't prove it hadn't been an accident. I mean, there'd been a wealth of evidence that we were accident-prone, and we were sure to be very meek and elaborately careful about procedures for the next few weeks. And then Ginny's brothers pulled that stunt with the dissolving cauldron. Which was completely unrelated, I might add. They'd been planning it since last year, or so I hear."

"Clever timing, though, if they wanted to take attention off their sister." Must be nice to have siblings like that. Well, when they weren't after you....

"Yeah, it was. I kind of wish I had brothers like that sometimes. 'Course, then they switch her wand for one that turns into a mouse, and I realize there are benefits to orphanhood as well." Tom chuckled.

Peony giggled quietly and resolved not to draw the attention of the Weasley twins. "When are you planning to get together next, then?"

"Ah... Tomorrow, after classes -- an hour after most, since we do have Magical Creatures -- in the library." Tom's face lit up. "You'll be coming then? Wonderful. I'll be sure and tell Ginny."

"What should I bring?" Peony gestured at the stack of textbooks and references she had been hiding behind.

"Ah... let's see, I think we'll be doing Transfiguration, Ginny's got a test on Friday and I have it next week. You probably don't have to bring anything -- Hermione Granger tends to just happen to be in the neighborhood with a book or five, suspiciously often -- but whatever you think would be helpful."

Peony closed her mouth quickly before an "eep" could escape. "Oh. Okay. I'll see you then."

"Great. Looking forward to it."

*****

Upon finishing her classes on Wednesday, Peony had hurried up to her dorm room and then slipped into the library bearing three books -- her course text for transfigurations, a reference on history and theory, and one that was not in fact a book at all, but an attractively disguised carrying -- case for a small sewing kit and assorted other small items that seemed transfigurable, like a paperweight, twigs, and a handful of odd buttons.

There was also a handkerchief which had at some point been dyed a thoroughly depressing shade of brownish-blue and embroidered in a peculiar yellow-green that did not go with it at all. It seemed like a good object for the practice of color-charms. It certainly couldn't be made much worse, although whoever had stained it with purple glitter-ink seemed to have been trying before, apparently, having given it up entirely and stuffed it into the corner of a chair in the common room.

She looked around the library and finally discovered Tom and Ginny at a corner table when Tom waved.

"Peony!" Tom smiled and pointed to an empty chair. "Glad you could make it. Have a seat, you can help me convince the stubborn Gryffindor that visualizing the result of a transfiguration is more important than pronouncing the words correctly. I still say," he turned back to Ginny, "that there's wiggle-room in the incantation if you've got the image in your head strongly enough. Look at Animagi, they don't even need the words."

"It still matters what you say if you do say anything," Ginny argued. "Mispronouncing the spell would be like... pointing your wand at the wrong object. Assuming you're using a wand, before you bring up the Animagi again!"

"I'm not saying it doesn't matter, just that it's secondary. Look at... oh, most of the first-years. Even when they do get the words right, the spell doesn't always take. They're not visualizing hard enough. Peony, I'm sure you've seen that."

Peony nodded, looking warily at the librarian. The debate, however fervent, seemed to be kept at a low enough level to satisfy Madam Pince, so she added softly, "But most of them don't pronounce it right either when they're having trouble, so it's hard to tell."

"Well, maybe we'll get a chance to test it out. I suppose we'd better work on the test material first though. What'd Professor McGonagall say we were going to be doing again?"

"We're having a fabric-to-metal and reverse theme for the next couple of lessons," Ginny replied, consulting her notes. "Especially with patterns...." She frowned. "I suppose you may be right on visualization after all. There's no way to specify some of these without practically making a speech."

"There's been a general compression trend over the years -- I read somewhere that centuries ago wizards needed a lot more preparation and verbal tricks to do what we do with a couple of gestures and a few words. Actually... hm. Could we leverage both those color charms into this? As a reference, maybe."

Ginny tilted her head. "How so?"

"Well, if we're going to be trying for patterns, and you have to somehow describe the new color you want, or the relationship between it or the old color, or something -- how does that work, anyway? Your spell, I mean. Obviously we're supposed to be transfiguring the actual dye in the cloth, for class, but maybe there's something. I'm just kind of throwing out ideas."

Ginny considered. "I generally use Chroma and the name of the color-it probably is technically a transfiguration charm to some degree. I'm usually pretty specific about color names, so I wasn't thinking as much about visualization, but I suppose it's what I think of as... well, pink for instance." She looked at Peony. "How about yours?"

"Chroma quiesce, at least for now, and... tell it not to change. I don't think I can explain it any better...."

"Maybe the telling it not to change is a visualization, or, that's not quite the right word. An act of will, maybe? Can you feel it when they try to change?"

"I... don't think so. Could you?" Peony looked down at her closed box-book. "I think... telling it what to do is separate. Partly. You can imagine something clearly and say words without getting the magic right, I think, at least I can, and the problem seems to be... getting the magic done. Telling the object of the spell what to do and getting the power to it."

Tom scratched his jaw thoughtfully. "Which is maybe where the wands enter the picture... to make the power transfer easier, or even possible, although there are cases where you don't need one. Maybe that's why transfiguration is particularly tricky, because you have to keep the power flowing steadily while the object keeps changing all the time?"

"I always figured it was because you were changing the nature of something instead of just, say, moving it around or mixing it with things or adding attributes," Ginny said thoughtfully. "I mean, in a lot of other areas there are spells for things that you could accomplish without one -- not all of them are like that, obviously -- but most transfigurations you couldn't do by other means."

"That's true. Although I've often wondered if a Muggle could mix a potion and get the same results as a wizard would -- I mean, look at all those folk remedies, some of them even use the same ingredients. Maybe it's a mix of problems."

Both girls looked at him blankly for a moment, but didn't ask about the folk remedies. "Snape would be appalled at the idea, wouldn't he?" Ginny remarked with a grin. "Then again, I heard when he was trying to pass for a Muggle once-I have no idea why-he said he was a chemistry teacher, and Hermione says that's close enough."

Tom laughed. "I wonder what he did that? Most wizards don't seem to want anything to do with the Muggle world, even if they aren't particularly prejudiced. ...Anyway, though, maybe we should figure out what specifically gives us trouble with transfiguration? Like, what's the worst you've ever botched one, and why do you think it happened? I know mine -- it was in my first year, I was supposed to be turning a needle into a toothpick. I kept thinking of Quidditch -- they'd had a demonstration -- and the needle ended up flying out the window."

"Did you ever find it?" Ginny asked with a grin as soon as she had finished muffling laughter. "Maybe it turned into a tiny broomstick instead." She considered, then winced. "Mine was first-year, too -- I was supposed to turn a quill into a thistle."

Tom snickered. "What happened to it?"

"...It turned into a bloody rooster feather." The whisper was a great deal quieter than the library required, and 'bloody' was not an expletive. "I'm... sorry. But can we drop the reasoning?"

Tom blinked a few times, then his eyebrows shot up. "Right. Um. Peony, how about you?"

"Um... on our first live transfiguration, my snail flew away." She paused. "It was a ladybug at first."

"So it sounds like visualization and, um," he glanced almost imperceptibly over at Ginny, "distractions, are the big problem."

"I know what a snail looks like," Peony murmured. "Of course, now I know what one with red and black polka-dot wings looks like, too."

Ginny, despite her own topic, giggled at the image. Quietly.

"So what tripped you up, then?"

The girl considered this carefully. "I'm pretty sure I pronounced it right. I started learning Latin early enough. So... either I didn't tell it convincingly enough to change, or I was still thinking too much about the ladybug before the change and not keeping them separate."

"So... should we practice on something? Try to, I dunno, clear our heads beforehand?"

"Might be a good idea," Ginny agreed.

"I brought some things," Peony volunteered softly.

"Oh good," Tom said. "I was about to start rummaging through my pockets for lint. What did you bring?"

Peony opened the disguised box, flipped the cover page, and handed it to him wordlessly.

"Oh, neat. I like the box. Let's see...." Tom sifted through the contents. "Some twigs, a bunch of buttons, and... what is that?" Tom viewed the paperweight from a number of angles. It appeared to be some sort of virulently orange seashell on which had been painted 'Pansys Stuf Do Not Tuch!!' He raised an eyebrow at Peony. "Should we bother transfiguring this back afterward?"

"Well... she's not likely to remember it exists unless she sees it." Pansy hadn't touched the thing since she'd learned to spell properly.

"Let's leave it however we transfigure it, then. Couldn't look worse. What should we start with, and what should we try to aim for?"

"Let's get rid of the seashell first," Ginny murmured. "Maybe... hm... a nice vase?"

"Anything that isn't that orange. Give it a shot."

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, concentrated, and tapped the shell with her wand as she whispered the spell.

The seashell grew into a gracefully curved jade-green vase and Pansy's misspelled claim on it expanded and distorted into an ornate pattern in thin golden lines. "Well... I didn't really have the trim planned, but I think it's pretty. I was thinking about... this vase I sneaked a look at and held in a shop when I was seven." She grinned sheepishly. "I wasn't supposed to be handling the merchandise in case I dropped something, which is probably why it's still so vivid."

"Yeah, that worked great." Tom picked up one of the twigs. "Let's see if I can get a flower to put in it."

"But please, not a namesake," Peony whispered almost inaudibly.

Tom cleared his mind as best as he could, then tried to scrape up his most vivid memory of a flower. There weren't very many, though, and Peony's whisper caught him just as he began to say the spell. His wand emitted a curious squeak, and the twig turned into a rather sad, dried dandelion with half the puffs missing. "Shoot. I was hoping for a tulip."

"You could always try it again. Although I like dandelions," Ginny suggested, eyeing his wand with some surprise. "But what was that noise? -- You haven't been near Fred or George lately, have you?"

"Not really... I think what happened is when Peony said 'namesake' I remembered this kid in the orphanage who used to collect dandelions. We called him Mouse. I don't recall why." Tom flicked his wand with a forefinger. "I think it's all right."

"Ah. Why'd he collect dandelions?" Ginny asked. Peony was looking at Tom curiously, but if Ginny was going to ask for details she decided she needn't.

"He liked them. And there weren't really any other flowers around."

"Not any?" Peony was startled enough for the question to escape. As might possibly have been guessed from her name and her sister's, her parents were sufficiently fond of flowers that she couldn't imagine not growing up surrounded by them.

"Well, no, the orphanage was in a city. Mouse used to get the dandelions from cracks in the pavement, vacant lots, that sort of thing. I wonder what happened to him."

"There wasn't a garden or anything?" Peony bit her lip. "Ah... sorry. Maybe if you remember his real name you could find him... somehow."

"He'd be an old man now, probably. It would be... awkward." Tom smiled a little sadly, then tapped the dandelion with his wand again; this time, it burst into full bloom, as fresh as if newly-picked and vividly yellow. "Anyway... what should we do next?"

Peony picked up a stray brown seed that had fallen off with its bit of fluff before the second transfiguration. "Do you mind if I plant this? I'm curious."

"Go ahead."

Ginny looked puzzled. "There are a lot of dandelions around. Or do you just want an indoor one?"

Peony shrugged and twirled the seed in her fingers. "Transfiguring plants can be... tricky, you know. Even if it looks like you got it right, sometimes one won't take root or grow again... you can transfigure a plant in the ground and unless you get it just right it might look fine, but die in the next few months. I just want to see if it works." She darted a look at Tom. "No offense, I mean...."

"No, none taken. I'm curious too. Although I think it'd be tough to tell, if it doesn't sprout, whether it was because I transfigured it wrong or because it was all old and dried."

"I suppose... though it's, well, a dandelion. They're tough." She grinned. "Still, if it does sprout, it means you did a really good job even if it wasn't a tulip."

"That's true. Of course, now I'm really curious; my pride's on the line here, after all." Tom grinned. "Such as it is."

Peony shrugged and licked the seed. Tom and Ginny both blinked at her, and she turned pink. "I thought I should go ahead and get it wet."

Tom shook his head wonderingly. "Well, it's your seed. And your turn, too, I think."

"I'm... not sure what to try." She bit her lip, then picked up a twig and tapped it, chewing on her lower lip. At first it didn't look as if anything had happened; then they realized it was smoother and the little fork at one end had become the bristles for a miniature broomstick.

"Oh, neat. Does it fly?"

"...I don't think so, but it could probably be charmed to."

Tom hmmed. "Well, it looks like we have the basics down pretty well... should we try another color change? Anybody who doesn't feel up to the challenge of Peony's handkerchief, I think I've got some spare socks in one of my robe pockets."

"Ah, but are you sure you want to risk them?" Ginny asked, eyes dancing. Then she paused. "And why are you carrying around extra socks? Expecting puddles?"

"Quidditch practice. Flint has us doing adverse weather conditions again. So, not so much puddles as vertical sheets of rain."

"What... fun. Oh dear. I'm almost tempted to come watch." She grinned. "Of course, I'd probably be recognized and either hexed or hauled bodily out of the stands."

Tom laughed. "Oh, I'm sure it's all kinds of entertaining from the stands... but yes, you're probably right. Especially as Malfoy's usually hanging around hoping somebody wants him for an alternate, or something -- fat chance of that."

"He doesn't fly badly; he's quite good at that," Peony protested softly. "He's just not as good at Seeker. Beater, maybe...."

Ginny stared at her. "Beater? Malfoy?"

"He's vicious enough for it. I don't think he's quite big enough yet, though."

"Hey! Fred and George are not --" Ginny paused. "Never mind."

"Sorry, I didn't mean... I'm more used to our Beaters, is all."

"It's all right. I stopped to think about their sense of humor and decided I couldn't really argue! Although, your Beaters definitely seem... more determined to injure somebody."

"Different playstyles," Tom said. "Flint prefers... a bit more direct methods than I might use, but he's captain."

"Well, he's the one who wound up with a black eye when George finally lost his temper about his 'direct methods' last time." Ginny smiled wryly and glanced at Peony. "So. Not arguing."

"Healed up inside three days without going to the hospital wing -- I swear, he's made out of his namesake. And I overheard him in the locker room saying he hoped it meant the Gryffindors were finally going to quit being soft. A very... singular mind, has Marcus Flint."

Ginny made a note to suggest that the twins might consider showing Flint what it could mean when Gryffindors made a particular effort not to be 'soft,' but didn't mention it. "Who do you think'll be captain next?"

"Adrian Pucey, maybe. I don't know most of the team well outside practice."

"Are you planning to try at some point?"

Tom grinned. "Well, Harry's probably going to be Gryffindor captain someday, and I can't let him grab all the glory for himself, now can I? Won't be until I've a bit more seniority on the team and people are more used to me, though."

"You do still seem to be a major topic of gossip."

"I'm a Slytherin who pals around with Gryffindors; I'd be a topic of gossip even without my... history. Although, if they're mostly talking about my associations, I don't mind."

"Well, I was thinking of the grownups. Mum mentioned it last time she owled me."

Tom blinked. "That wasn't that Howler the other day, was it? I thought that was over at the Gryffindor table, but Crabbe and Goyle were having a belching contest so I couldn't make out what it said."

"They can drown out a Howler?! And no, that was for Neville. Why on Earth would Mum send me a Howler about you?"

"Well... your brother wasn't too pleased at first."

"Oh, right. Well, that's Ron. And... well, it was kind of sudden. He hadn't been too bothered about Harry," she did not say looking out for you, "being friends with you."

"Harry's got a prior record when..." Tom almost said I "...things get out of hand. I wouldn't have blamed your mother for worrying."

"She worried a bit, but not in a Howler. Like I said, she's been hearing things. Of course Dad told her about what happened the first day, when he got home, and I owled her that we'd started working together and why -- some of why -- it seemed only fair since I'd cried at her about... Potions and so on... before."

"I wouldn't call that gossip, though," Tom pointed out delicately.

"Oh, no. But obviously everybody wound up hearing about it. Apparently you're being Discussed."

"That sounds like a capital letter. Capital letters can be ominous."

"It's not too bad.... Of course, there are some people who think you're some sort of bizarre ploy by You-Know-Who, but Dumbledore is very sure you aren't. Other than that... well... the story got around and people are curious."

Tom winced. "Oh good, public celebrity, my very favorite thing."

Peony looked at him curiously. "I thought you liked attention."

"Well... I would like the students to be impressed with me, because I want to be... a positive example of a Slytherin. But adult attention outside Hogwarts? I'm not exactly looking for interviews just yet."

"More likely intent looks and possibly very strange questions, at this point," Ginny said comfortingly.

Tom smiled a little weakly. "I'm just trying to ignore the world outside Hogwarts as much as I can, just now. I'm not looking forward to the end of the year."

"Why-oh."

Tom scratched his jaw. "Exactly. I hope Professor Dumbledore comes up with something before... other people do. I keep expecting Malfoy to deliver an invitation from his father, or something."

Peony blinked. It hadn't occurred to her that Tom wouldn't know where he was spending the summer yet. And the Malfoy house was actually quite nice... but however much her sister liked Draco, some of the occupants, well, weren't always. Besides, if he was worried about being thought a ploy of the Dark Lord's, of course Tom wouldn't want to stay with someone suspected of having the sort of... ties... that were whispered about for Lucius.

Ginny shuddered. "What a creepy thought." She hesitated for a moment. "Would you like to stay with us instead? I could ask Mum and Dad...."

Tom's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't... I mean, I wouldn't want to impose, or, or, make anybody uncomfortable, or anything."

Ginny blushed a brilliant shade of red. "Well, if you don't -- I mean -- I would have to ask them, but we had Harry for part of summer before last and I really don't think it would be a problem.... You'd probably have to share a room at least part of the time, but you do here...."

"Well, if your parents say yes, and Professor Dumbledore says yes... yeah, that would be a huge load off my mind, Ginny, thanks. I... really didn't expect this, I mean, wow."

"I'll owl them. Dad can ask Professor Dumbledore." She smiled. "Actually I think they were already planning to ask about not sending Harry back to the Dursleys, so he might be there too." And she was still blushing, though not quite as much. "We probably should have thought of it before, really, but I wasn't thinking you might not know...."

Tom shook his head, grinning. "And here I was picturing myself wandering around an abandoned orphanage, or something. Far cry from the beginning of the semester." Suddenly he blinked. "I'm sorry, Peony, we kind of went off-track for the study session. I... maybe should have warned you we meander a bit."

"That's all right." Peony dimpled suddenly. "It's interesting, although I could start wondering how you ever get anything done." She tilted her head. "Are you trying to hack off Lucius Malfoy particularly?"

"That's a bonus," Ginny said under her breath.

Tom nodded agreement with Ginny. "I met him, when he came Sunday about the attack. He was very polite, very solicitous, but he... looked at me. I don't quite know how to describe it. But I don't ever want to see that look again." Tom shivered. "Cold and... hungry."

Ginny glanced at Peony warily. "He probably wants your existence to be a trick," Ginny muttered. "And wherever you stay I don't think Dumbledore would let you wind up there."

"I hope not. He keeps sending Harry to stay with that aunt and uncle of his, though."

"I don't really know why. Something about blood relations, or so I heard, but it could have been rumor. With You-Know-Who gone though that might not matter anymore." Ginny grimaced. "They sound like the Malfoys in reverse, only Draco isn't bloated." A pause. "Except for the ego, I mean."

Tom chuckled. "They do at that."

Peony looked puzzled. "The reverse... how?"

"They think about wizards like the Malfoys think about Muggles."

"...Don't most Muggles?"

Ginny buried her face in her hands. "No."

"Most Muggles don't know about wizards," Tom said quietly. "The Dursleys only do because of Harry's mother."

"But the ones that do...."

"Like Hermione's parents?" Ginny jumped in. "Or Justin Finch-Fletchley's, or Colin's, or Seamus Finnigan's father? No."

Peony shrank back a bit. "Oh."

Tom made quelling motions at Ginny. "They run the gamut, just like wizards do. Ginny, remember not everybody is as familiar with Muggles as you are, eh? Peony's not the enemy either."

"I know, I'm sorry...." Ginny sighed. "I didn't mean to sound like it was your fault, Peony, it's just frustrating. I'm not even that familiar, really, I hardly know anything... but it's the people in the Ministry who think like that who won't see why we should be worried if what we do affects Muggles badly, so long as they don't know about it. I was... hurrying, not angry."

Peony managed a tiny smile. "I guess it's not just Slytherin families who get politics over the dinner table, is it?"

"Different kind of politics, I expect," Tom said with a smile of his own. "Ginny's father works for the Ministry, though, so I bet she hears a lot of things."

"It gets, um, lively." Ginny's face was suffused again.

"I'd think six brothers would do that on their own."

Tom grinned. "Let's see, two of them are Fred and George, and one of the older ones works with dragons. I think you've got a point, Peony."

That won a bit of a laugh from Ginny; Peony felt rather relieved. She supposed the Gryffindor really might not have meant to jump down her throat -- perhaps with six older brothers, she had to act like that to be heard? "Well, he doesn't usually bring the dragons home."

"Pansy brings one every now and then," Peony remarked innocently.

Tom blinked. "Where does she find them?"

"I said one."

Ginny started laughing again, tears coming to her eyes with the effort of keeping it quiet.

Tom blinked at Ginny, then at Peony again, then suddenly started snickering. "Oh, do you mean Malfoy? I didn't think they were quite that close."

"Enough to visit, anyway. No secret she fancies him, either."

Tom snorted. "I don't think Malfoy fancies anything but his own reflection."

"He's a boy." Peony shrugged. "He might grow out of it."

"Erm, ouch? I have the feeling I should be offended...." Tom shrugged and grinned. "Right then, back to Transfiguration."

"Let's try that handkerchief Peony brought, or mine." Ginny laughed. "That way we can spare your socks."

*****