The Man of the Moment

Chapter Twelve: It's a Kind of Magic

"Harry! Wake up!"

Harry jumped out of his skin. He looked up to see Ron's face looming over him.

"Harry, what on earth were you dreaming about?" he asked. "You were thrashing about in your sleep and everything! Dean kept trying to show Seamus some Muggle game by balancing as many jumpers on you as he could before you shook them off, except there was a horse or something in the Muggle version. I told them to stop- are you all right?" He leant closer to Harry and whispered, "It wasn't another of Voldemort's..."

"No," Harry replied firmly, sitting up. "It was just a dream, but a really odd one."

"What happened?" Ron asked. Harry was about to explain, but then he saw Dean and Seamus getting changed.

"You okay, Harry?" Seamus asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," he replied. He looked at Ron pointedly, and he appeared to understand, for he didn't ask any more questions, and instead began taking rather loudly about organising the Prefects into decorating the hall for the Halloween feast that night.

Harry dragged himself out of bed and began to get changed. This wasn't the first time he had woken up after a particularly bizarre dream; however, it was the first time he had been truly scared by one. Excepting those he had shared with Voldemort- they didn't count as bona fide dreams, in Harry's view. This one had been all the work of his own subconscious, and the suggestions within it scared him. He wondered briefly what Trelawney would make of it, then realised she would say it meant he was going to die a tragic death. Mind you, she would say that if he dreamt about a dancing Mars bar pirouetting its way along the side of his bed.

"Seriously, Harry, are you okay?" Dean asked, with genuine concern. "You were making some really odd noises..."

Harry noticed he was trying not to smirk, and presumed the same emotional mentality that had prompted him to burst out laughing every time he had to say the password 'Queerditch Marsh' last term was to blame.

"I'm fine, really. Nothing to worry about," Harry responded, as they headed downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast.

They met Ginny and Hermione on the way, who both looked a little bleary eyed.

"What's up with you two?" Ron asked, glancing from Hermione to Ginny and back again.

"We had another late-night chat," Hermione replied, sleepily. Ron raised an eyebrow.

"How late? Four o'clock this morning late?"

"Not quite," Ginny mumbled, before they headed into the Great Hall.

Neville was already there; flicking through a copy of the Daily Prophet with a frown on his face. Harry inwardly sighed- he had seen Neville do little else but frown this term. He shouldn't have to worry what Voldemort was up to; that was his job, thanks to the prophecy.

"Hi, Neville," he said as they all sat next to him on the Gryffindor table. Neville looked up and smiled grimly.

"Hi, Harry. No news," he said pointedly, gesturing towards the paper. Harry was confused for a moment, until he remembered the ongoing hunt for Voldemort's known Death Eaters, of which the Lestranges were the some of the most wanted.

"Justice will be done," Hermione said, placing a comforting hand on Neville's shoulder. Neville looked up, and smiled.

"I hope so," he replied, before tossing the paper aside.

"Anyway, how is everyone... Actually, how are you, Harry? You sounded well odd when I got up this morning. I thought about waking you, but I didn't know if it would make things worse..."

"I wasn't having a fit or anything, Neville," Harry said, laughingly. "I was just dreaming."

"Sounded like a nasty dream," Neville replied.

"It was nothing," Harry hastily answered, though the look he got from Hermione suggested he would soon be explaining it to her in great detail, whether he liked it or not.

A tall figure suddenly loomed over their table, surprising Harry so much that he forgot to pick up the piece of toast he was reaching for.

"My, my- you're all up early for a Sunday," Persephone said, as she passed their table to get her own breakfast. She backtracked a little, and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Actually, could I have a quick work with you, Harry?" she asked. Harry looked down at his breakfast, and wondered briefly if Persephone was going to offer him yet more pep talks about his captaincy.

"Erm, okay," Harry replied.

"Good, could you come to my office in about ten minutes?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"Sure, Professor," he replied. Persephone smiled, and said goodbye to them all before walking off to the High Table.

"What was all that about?" Neville asked. Harry shrugged.

"Haven't a clue," he replied, truthfully. Dean grinned.

"Maybe Snape's been having words in her ear, about your behaviour in Potions," he said, slyly. Seamus burst out laughing.

"Or maybe the Bride of Snape's been on the warpath, spreading tales of your mischief-making to the new Head of House?" he suggested, between sniggers. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm not stupid enough to get into trouble during Ridley's lessons," he retorted. "Besides, I've not been the one giving Snape grief this term."

All eyes fell upon Ginny, who's own eyes widened in mock indignation.

"Me? What have I done?" she asked, sweetly.

"Only gone and got yourself a detention with Snape every week this term; I'm surprised Mum hasn't been sending Howlers to you!" Ron replied. Ginny scowled at him.

"It's not like I'm doing it on purpose," she replied. "I can't exactly laugh with malicious intent, can I?"

"Still, it's hardly making things easy on yourself during your first year of Potion N.E.W.T.s," Hermione commented, which caused Ginny to glower at her. She paid little attention.

"I could always try and brew up a Sobering Solution; that might keep you from laughing for an hour or two. Or I could modify a Draft of Peace with some armadillo bile, so that you don't get too fuzzy headed..."

Ron gawped at her.

"Modifying a Draft of Peace? I had enough trouble trying to make an exact version at O.W.L. level!" he exclaimed. Ginny, on the other hand, looked somewhat grateful.

"Oh, could you, Hermione?" she pleaded. "It's just getting ridiculous now..."

"Sure; come up to the Second Floor girl's bathroom at two o'clock. We can sort something out," she swiftly replied, and Ginny looked very grateful.

Ron looked at his watch.

"We've got to speak to the prefects about decorating the Hall," he groaned, whilst munching a piece of toast. Hermione stood up.

"I almost forgot," she replied, before the two of them said their goodbyes and began to round up the House Prefects on each table.

"I'd hate to be Head Boy," Dean commented, whilst spreading a thick layer of marmalade over his slice of toast. "It's like being a teacher, but without any of the perks."

"You can take points off other students," Neville replied. "That's got to be a perk- you could get anyone with that!"

Seamus shrugged.

"Yeah, but that'd get boring after a while," he said. Dean and Neville looked at each other.

"No, it wouldn't," they replied, with gusto. Neville paused for a moment.

"You know, this is probably one of the reasons why I wasn't made Head Boy," he said, causing the rest of their congregation to laugh. Dean patted him on the back.

"Oh, Neville, you're the Head Boy that could have been, had fate not taken a different path!" he pronounced, grandly, causing Seamus and Neville to crack up laughing ever harder than they had been.

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other. From one look, Harry could tell she was thinking the same thing as he was; that all this talk about Neville and fate would never be funny to them in the slightest.

A short while later, Harry found himself knocking on Persephone's office door, wondering what on earth she could want to speak to him about. Maybe it was more Occlumency lessons? He had progressed quite remarkably last year, although his brief stand against Snape earlier in the term had somewhat shaken his belief in his skill.

"Come in!" Persephone called from inside, and Harry opened the door.

"What did you want to...?" Harry trailed off. Persephone was not alone in her office; Lupin was sitting in a chair next to her desk. He was cradling a cup in his hand, and seeing as Frank, Persephone's half-crup, had made himself comfortable and was snoozing upon his lap, Harry presumed Lupin was planning to stay.

"Hello, Harry," Lupin said. "Have a seat."

Cautiously, Harry sat down in the chair next to Lupin's.

"What's going on?" Harry asked. Persephone and Lupin looked at each other.

"Well, Persephone and I have been chatting with members of the Order," Lupin explained. "Although, really, I should let Persephone explain- she knows more about this than I do."

"You remember that letter I sent you on your birthday?" Persephone asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Do you remember me mentioning I'd been thinking about those memories of yours?" Persephone prompted.

"The one of me blowing up my Aunt Marge?" Harry asked. Persephone nodded.

"Yeah- the ones of you doing wandless magic as a teenager," she affirmed. Harry nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Wandless magic?" he spluttered. "I don't do wandless magic!"

"You have done, on numerous occasions. When you cause something magical to happen, and you don't use your wand- that's wandless magic," Persephone explained, calmly. "Anyway, the point I'm making is, I've been talking to the Order, and the majority of them have agreed with me."

"Agreed with you about what?" Harry asked, not entirely sure where this was heading. With Persephone, it really could be anywhere.

"Persephone seems to think it might be a good idea for you to hone these particular... incidents, and turn them into a skill," Lupin explained.

Harry sank into his chair, feeling precious little but shock.

"You want me to learn wandless magic?" he breathed. Persephone nodded.

"Yes, we do," she replied, whilst handing Harry a cup.

"Tea?" she asked, standing over him brandishing a teapot. Harry was too overwhelmed to reply one way or another, which Persephone seemed to take as a yes, and filled up his cup.

"But... well, how?" Harry managed to ask, once Persephone had sat down. She leant back in her chair and rested her fingertips together.

"You'll be taught- that's the usual way to go about these thing," she replied, with a hint of sarcasm. Harry pulled a face at her.

"Yeah, I get that, oddly enough," he retorted. "What I meant was, who's going to teach me- you?"

Persephone laughed.

"Me? Don't be daft- I'm nowhere near experienced enough to teach you wandless magic! Well, not the basics, anyway- I might be able to help you with the advanced stuff," she replied.

"Yet you can't teach the basics?" Lupin asked incredulously. Persephone nodded.

"It's sort of like fencing," she explained. "Once you've grasped the basics, you can be taught more advanced stuff by anyone, but if you're taught the nuts and bolts of it incorrectly, then you don't stand a chance."

"Then who's going to do it?" Harry asked. Persephone handed him a small scroll. He examined the thick, crinkly paper, and pulled gingerly at the red ribbon that was tied around it. The parchment unfolded itself and landed square in his lap. The black, calligraphic writing inside was in English, but there were a few symbols along the side of the parchment that Harry couldn't read, although he was sure he had seen one or two of them printed on the spines of some of Persephone's books.

Dear Harry Potter,

I trust Persephone has explained the situation to you, in which case I ask you to answer the accompanying questions and send them back to me forthwith, in order that I can assess your potential and organise a tutoring plan. I am aware that training may prove problematic, but I am positive we can come to some sort of arrangement.

With metta,

Lama Gyaltsen Mende

"Sorry about the vagueness- I told him discretion was key. It's from my wandless magic tutor," Persephone explained. "He's Tibetan, runs a retreat up in the mountains where he teaches the Buddhist faith to particularly spiritual Muggles; apparently he's supposed to be the incarnation of an Eastern God-Head, but I can't remember which one. More importantly, he's also a dab hand at wandless magic; trust me, Harry, you won't find a better tutor! He's inviting you to stay in his retreat for a week, after which I think you should be able to train without his guidance, though I'd imagine he'd like to check on you now and then."

Harry looked at Lupin, who shrugged.

"I'm afraid I don't know much about wandless magic," he replied. "However, I am led to believe that this Lama Mende does."

"Gyaltsen Mende," Persephone corrected. "The Lama is a title."

Lupin glanced across at her.

"I suppose I can't refer to you as Professor Beauchamp, then?" he replied, coolly. Persephone raised her palms in capitulation.

"Alright, alright; I didn't know you knew! I throw myself at your feet, oh omniscient Remus Lupin!"

Lupin looked askance at her.

"Now you're just being childish," he replied.

Harry glanced down the piece of parchment he was holding to glance at a few of the questions. Now, although Harry knew he had not an inkling of what it meant to control wandless magic, he still felt the questions listed seemed very arbitrary; 'What is your favourite animal?', 'When was the last time you felt fear, and why?', 'If you had to save one item from a burning building, what would it be?'- didn't Buddhists put very little stock into material possessions, anyway?

"It might be an idea to fill that parchment out in here, away from prying eyes, Harry," Lupin said calmly. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I will... Have you got a quill, Persephone?" he asked. Persephone nodded, and handed him an iridescent black quill and a small pot of ink.

"Remember to be brutally honest, Harry," Persephone warned. "It's of vital importance that Gyaltsen gets an accurate picture of what drives you; because that will be what drives your magic."

Harry nodded. Wordlessly, he dipped the nib of the quill into the inkpot and began to fill in the parchment.

Full Name:

Harry wrote his name in the space provided, and began to look at the questions.

When you need to focus on a happy memory, what do you pick?

Harry thought about this for a moment, and settled on, 'Winning Quidditch matches.' There were Ron and Hermione, of course, but somehow, he felt that he needed to put down a memory that reflected his ability to handle solitude, and meditate upon his personal development. Either that, or he was rather preoccupied about his next Quidditch match.

When was the last time you felt fear, and why?

'When one of my best friends was attacked by Death Eaters and nearly died,' Harry scribbled down. The whole process felt rather odd and conversational to him, considering the subject matter.

What status are your mother and father?

Harry stared at this question for a moment, hoping an answer would surface from the depths of his mind. It didn't.

"Persephone? What does it mean by 'what status' are my parents?" he asked. Persephone rolled her eyes.

"Oh, it's that old chestnut again," she replied. "Just answer it however you see fit- that's part of the assessment, I believe."

Looking sadly at Lupin, who had his back to Harry and was currently staring out of the window, Harry wrote down the answer, 'Dead.'

Have you ever wanted to work as a florist...?

Suddenly, Harry felt an odd probing sensation in his head. Fear clamoured at his chest, making it difficult for him to take normal breaths- was Voldemort trying to read him like he had all though Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts?

"No, stop that, stop it right now!" he ordered mentally. Whatever was trying to enter his mind was having great difficulty doing so. Soon enough, to his surprise, the pressure fell away. Harry turned around to tell Lupin and Persephone what had happened, only to find Persephone grinning broadly at him.

"Just testing," she replied, casually. Harry glared at her.

"Yeah, thanks, Persephone- you really scared me!" he exclaimed.

"At least you know you're able to perform Occlumency when unprepared," she countered, somewhat flippantly.

Lupin turned to face Persephone, and judging by the look on his face, Harry suspected he was not impressed.

"You didn't just use Legilmency on him, did you?" he demanded. Persephone nodded.

"Yeah- like I said, it's good to keep him on his toes," she replied. Lupin glared at her, and brought his voice down to a whisper, presumably in the mistaken belief that Harry couldn't hear him.

"Have you lost your mind? Did you want to half-scare him to death!" he asked, furiously. Persephone shrugged.

"He needs to be prepared- one of these days, it's going to happen. With Dumbledore out of the picture, we both know it's only a matter of time before he advances here," she replied, simply. Lupin placed his hands on her desk and leant over so that he was eye to eye with her.

"I'm aware of that fact," Lupin countered.

"So, we should be doing all we can to ensure Harry stays vigilant," Persephone insisted.

"Persephone, he's not a soldier; he's a young man. I think you keep forgetting this simple fact!" Lupin hissed. Persephone stood up and stared straight down at him.

"Yeah? Well, it's a pity that Voldemort has yet to catch up with your reasoning, isn't it!" she retorted, hotly.

"We've been charged to keep him safe, not to produce a candidate for joining the Brethren of Tyr!" Lupin spat.

Harry watched their quarrel with deep concern; for it was not pleasant to watch two people you genuinely cared about fighting amongst themselves, especially when the thing they are fighting about is yourself. At the same time, though, Harry couldn't help but be sharply reminded of a similar spat between Sirius and Molly at Grimmauld Place just two years ago.

Obviously aware of being watched, both Lupin and Persephone disengaged from their argument and turned to face Harry.

"Is there a problem?" Persephone asked. Harry shrugged.

"Not with me," he replied. "But I think there might be with you two. Call it intuition..."

"We're just having a little... disagreement over tactical issues," Lupin replied, carefully. Harry couldn't help it, and smiled.

"Funny, because to me, it looked like you were having a right old barney," he replied.

"Just finish your scroll, Harry," Persephone said, abruptly.

What form does a Boggart take in your presence?

"Well, that one's easy," Harry muttered to himself, as he wrote down 'Dementors'.

What do you consider to be your biggest fear?

"Isn't that the same thing?" Harry thought, irritably, before he seriously considered the question. It really wasn't the same thing at all, he realised. Slowly, he scribbled down 'Failing to live up to expectations', and considering what Trelawney's prophecy stated, not without a degree of morbid amusement.

What magical heritage do each of your parents have, if known?

Realising the question about his parents' status had been another of those trick questions, Harry wrote down 'Muggle Born Witch' for his mother, and then paused at the space left for his father.

"Lupin?" he asked. Lupin whirled around from the window, which Harry assumed he had been staring out of to avoid having any further disputes with Persephone.

"Yes, Harry?" he asked.

"Do you know whether my dad was a pureblood or not?" Harry asked, feeling somewhat stupid that he didn't know. Lupin sat back down in his chair and looked at Harry with sympathy.

"He came from a wizarding family, yes," he replied, sadly. Harry wrote this down on his scroll.

"How are you getting on?" Lupin asked. Harry nodded.

"Pretty well," he replied, as he answered the question 'What do you value the most in life?' that was written near the bottom of the scroll. Lupin leant back in his chair, and sipped at his tea.

"Persephone, won't this information Harry's putting down be a bit... sensitive to send via owl?" he asked, in a falsely affable voice.

"Yep," Persephone replied in a gruff tone. "That's why I'll be taking it to Gyaltsen myself."

Lupin nodded, and continued to quietly sip his tea.

Harry signed the scroll where it stated 'I, Harry Potter, hereby declare that I endeavour to take my training seriously and to heed the advice of my tutor with all due care and attention'.

"Finished," he announced, and sealed up the scroll before handing it to Persephone.

"I'll take it to him now," she replied, setting up the fireplace with a series of spells Harry assumed were to prevent her Floo journey from being identified. Lupin took this as his cue to leave.

"I'd better go- wouldn't want the students to become suspicious as to why I'm back at Hogwarts," he explained. Persephone finished her incantations, and then stepped to one side of her fireplace.

"That's understandable. Thank you four your help, Remus," she said, extending her hand. Lupin shook it, in a rather stiff manner.

"You're welcome, Persephone- I'm glad I could be of help," he replied, before looking across at Harry. "Take care of yourself, Harry; I'll see you in the holidays, and remember..."

"If I've got a problem, I know where to owl," Harry finished his sentence. Lupin smiled, before taking a pinch of Floo powder and announcing, "12 Grimmauld Place." He stepped into the green flames and promptly vanished.

"Well, I'll just go and take this to Tibet, then," Persephone said with a smile, as she tapped Harry's scroll against the palm of her left hand. She scrutinised Harry for a moment.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked. Harry laughed.

"It's a bit late to ask now, isn't it?" he replied, only half-jokingly. Persephone blushed a little.

"Better late than never, as they say," she said, sitting gravely back down in her chair as though awaiting Harry's response.

"No, it's fine," Harry replied. "Does it hurt?"

Persephone laughed.

"Not at all- it's all about focussing your energies and the like. It'll be fine- Gyaltsen will explain it all better than I can, anyway. His teaching is very much tailored to the individual, so what I experienced will probably be different to what you will," she replied. Harry nodded.

"Well, good luck on your trip," he replied. Persephone grinned and gave him a lax salute.

"I won't be more that half an hour- if anyone asks, I've gone to fetch some grindylows for my third year class tomorrow," she said. Harry nodded as she grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and disappeared to some place Harry couldn't hope to pronounce.

It wasn't until the Halloween feast that Harry was able to speak to Ron and Hermione, for they were evidently busy with some Head Boy and Girl activity. On entering the Great Hall, Harry had to admit that Ron and Hermione must have put the fear of god into the prefects, because it looked amazing. The bats were flying in impressive formations, and the candle flames glowed in all four of the house colours. There were enough carved pumpkins to start a shop selling them, and a few painted skulls appeared to be rotating in the corners of the room, which Harry wasn't altogether sure was politically correct, given the current situation of the wizarding world.

"Sorry we've not been around all day, Harry," Hermione said, as she ran up to him before he had even reached the Gryffindor table. "We've been sorting out the prefects."

"Yeah, they're a right bunch of slackers- just because we're at war, it's no excuse not to have a decent Halloween display," Ron added, blithely. Harry couldn't help but smile at Ron's irreverent comments, although Hermione saw fit to slap him hard on the arm.

"Ouch- you're getting good at this, Hermione," Ron commented, rubbing his arm where Hermione's hand had made contact.

"Persephone wants me to learn wandless magic," Harry whispered, when he was confident no students were passing close enough to hear them Ron and Hermione both stared at him with their mouths wide open.

"Wow, how cool is that?" Ron exclaimed.

"You're so lucky, Harry! To have the natural skills to be able to learn such a thing!" Hermione added.

"Hang on, I thought anyone could learn it, except it takes a lot of work, and nobody really bothers nowadays?" Harry countered, remembering Hermione's words last year. Hermione nodded.

"Well, yes," she explained. "However, a tutor will rarely take someone one who hasn't shown signs of accidental wandless magic outside of their early childhood."

"Apparently, I've shown one or two signs of accidental wandless magic whilst I was thirteen and fifteen," Harry added.

"You don't look all that thrilled though, mate," Ron said, in a concerned voice. Harry shrugged.

"I do want to learn," he explained. "I'm just not sure what good it's going to do..." He found himself distracted by Hermione's comforting grip on his arm.

"Every little bit of arsenal you can amass will help, Harry," she replied, sagely. Harry nodded.

"I'll just have to wait and see what happens with it, I suppose," he said, as they walked towards the Gryffindor table.

As they walked along the Great Hall, they passed Alex, who appeared to have cornered Snape into conversation. Harry couldn't help but glance across his shoulder, and picked up a sizeable chunk of their discussion.

"Wow; the kids have done a good job on the Hall- it looks lovely!" she enthused. Snape shrugged.

"I suppose," he replied, noncommittally. Alex pointed at one of the revolving skulls.

"Not sure about the skulls, mind," she said, idly.

"Well, that's children for you- they tend to have an odd fascination with the macabre between the ages of fourteen to sixteen," Snape replied. Alex looked away briefly, before making eye contact once again with Snape.

"You busy tonight?" she asked. Snape shrugged.

"I've got a few papers to mark, but not a great deal," he replied. Alex tapped her belt.

"Fancy a quick game after dinner?" she asked. Snape rolled his eyes.

"I see that you're beginning to enjoy my ritual humiliation at your hands," he said, caustically. Alex merely laughed.

"I'm beginning to enjoy teaching an enthusiastic pupil," she replied, smoothly. "The last person I got to coach was Persephone, and that was seven years ago!"

"Is she any good?" Snape asked, with a barely concealed eagerness that knocked Harry for six.

"Yeah, she's pretty hot, actually. Not that she cares much for the intricacies or artistry; she's far more pragmatic, which makes for interesting, but short, games. I prefer to play with someone who likes to make each bout last; it's more fun when you get the chance to tease your opponent a little," she replied. Snape blinked a couple of times at this statement.

"Indeed," he replied, looking cautiously around the room.

Harry quickly turned away before either Snape or Alex became aware of his eavesdropping, but he couldn't help but think their topic of conversation somewhat odd for a couple of teachers.

"Anyway, what was up with you and that dream, Harry?" Ron asked. Glad of the distraction from his previous thoughts, Harry explained all about the dream he had; Sirius' appearance, Persephone's burning, Lupin stabbing her, Hermione and Draco getting married- which Hermione almost fell out of her seat laughing at, the little girl who told him of 'Alessio'...

"That's well weird, Harry," Ron said, as they sat down.

"What's weird?" Ginny asked.

"My dream," Harry replied.

"Oh, so it wasn't unsuitable for mixed company, then?" Dean asked, sniggering. Harry felt himself colour up quite strongly.

"No, it wasn't," he retorted, quickly.

"What was it about, Harry?" Neville asked, kindly. Reluctant to share some of the details of his dream with all of the seventh year Gryffindors now eagerly listening, Harry decided to stick to the least questionable parts.

"I dreamt about Hermione and Draco getting married," he said. Neville burst out laughing almost as much as Hermione had.

"No wonder you seemed so scared!" he said, at which most of the students who had been listening laughed, especially Lavender and Parvati, Harry noted with irritation.

"I think Hermione's the one that ought to be scared," Ron laughed. "Imagine having Malfoy want to marry you!" Ron made a disgusted face at his own remark. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other; it was clear to Harry that Hermione had a vague idea of what that might be like, as she had been on the receiving end of his misguided advances just last year.

"Ooh, Pansy would be thrilled, wouldn't she?" Parvati added, sarcastically, and the seventh year Gryffindors laughed even more loudly. Lavender eagerly whispered something to Parvati, and the two briefly glanced across as Harry, before shrieking with laughter.

"What?" Harry demanded, setting down his knife and fork and awaiting a reply. Lavender and Parvati looked at each other again.

"Nothing, Harry- don't worry about it," Lavender replied, whilst Parvati appeared to be biting on her knuckle in an attempt to hide her giggles.

"Frank's been causing mischief again," Neville commented, changing the subject.

"How so?" Hermione asked. Neville grinned.

"He's been chasing Mrs. Norris around the building," he replied. "Seems like he's growing up, and has discovered cats. Filch was having a right go at Beauchamp earlier; he called her dog a hyperactive rat, and I think she took offence. Just to warn you all, he might start taking it out on us lot."

Dean groaned.

"All because of her stupid dog? That thing's more likely to get attacked by Mrs. Norris than the other way around!" he exclaimed. Seamus laughed heartily.

"I know- and to think Filch described it as a rat? More like half a mouse, I'd say," he joked. Ginny scowled at him.

"Oi! Leave Frank alone, he's cute!" she retorted, huffily.

"He gets on fine with Crookshanks. Anyway, he's not a dog- he's half-crup," Hermione pointed out. Seamus looked at her.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"His tail is slightly forked," Hermione said, nonchalantly, before continuing with her meal.

"Well, I didn't know that," Dean commented.

"You wouldn't, seeing as you hardly ever take the chance to play with him," Ginny said, sulkily. Harry tried to stifle a mental image of what Fred and George may well have spent their time doing to Frank had they still been at Hogwarts. He shuddered to think of both the fate that poor Frank would have met, and the fate that Fred and George would have suffered at Persephone's hands. Neither came to mind as being particularly pleasant.

"Can I sit here?" a meek sounding voice asked. Harry looked up, and was shocked to see Luna standing in front of him, appearing very subdued.

"Sure," he said, hastily making room for her. She smiled weakly and sat down.

"What's the matter?" he asked, kindly. Luna looked up at him.

"I... my stomach hurts," she said, looking across at the Ravenclaw table. "I think I ate something funny."

Hermione got out of her seat and crouched next to her.

"Where about does it hurt?" she asked, as though she had suddenly become a fully trained Healer. Luna pointed to various areas of her lower torso. Hermione gently pressed down on various areas, and Luna winced occasionally in pain. Hermione frowned.

"Is there anything else the matter?" she asked. Luna nodded.

"My head feels fuzzy," she replied. "I can't think properly. I'm sure I know what's happened, but I can't think..."

"Sounds like a Confusing Draught," Hermione said. "I imagine somebody slipped some into her food or drink, except that they put too much in, and the stomach pains are a result. Luna?" she asked. Luna looked up at her, bleary eyed.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Could you show me where you were sitting?" Hermione asked. Luna got to her feet, and aided by Hermione, staggered over to the Ravenclaw table.

Harry and Ron exchanged concerned glances.

"Bloody hell, you don't think somebody poisoned her, do you?" Ron asked, quietly.

"I hope not," Harry replied.

"You don't think Dumbledore's killer has stuck again, do you?" Ginny asked, suddenly. Dean put his arm around her.

"Don't be daft," he replied. "She'll be fine."

"She might be sick, though," Seamus replied, looking across at the Ravenclaw table.

Suddenly, Hermione's voice cut through the entire hall, and every single student fell silent.

"You stupid boy!" she yelled. "What in heaven's name made you think poisoning another student would be in any way 'fun'?"

Harry looked across at the Ravenclaw table, and saw one of the sixth year boys cowering in his seat, with Hermione looming over him in a manner reminiscent of Porphyria Beauchamp attacking Karkaroff, which Harry had seen during Occlumency practice with Persephone earlier in the year.

"Get up, get up right now! You can come with me and Luna to visit Madame Pomfrey, and explain to her what you've done!" Hermione ordered. The boy looked across at his friends, then back at Hermione, and seemed to think it would be a good idea to comply with her request.

Harry looked up at the High Table, and saw Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall rushing up to the scene. Snape was conspicuous by his absence; then again, so were Alex and Persephone, although Harry knew the latter teacher was halfway across the world right now.

"Goodness, what on earth's happening?" Professor Flitwick exclaimed. Hermione appeared to be explaining the situation, for his forehead became creased into a frown, and he soon ushered the sixth year boy out of the hall, along with Hermione, who was supporting Luna.

"Settle down, everyone," McGonagall ordered, before following the group out of the hall. Ginny got up out of her chair.

"We should go and see if she's all right- they must be taking her to the hospital wing," she said, worriedly. Ron and Harry looked at each other, before following her lead and walking towards the exit of the Great Hall.

They had just exited the hall when Harry found himself face to face with Draco Malfoy, who looked unbearably haughty.

"So, Weasel, looks like your precious little mudblood likes to throw her weight around," he said to Ron, with a smirk. "Bet she's really loving it- 'course, it'll be the only time anybody really gets a chance to listen to her. We are at war, after all..."

He let the statement hang in the air, clearly awaiting a response. On seeing Ron glare angrily at Draco, then pounce like a leopard, Harry thought that if the response Draco had desired was for Ron to pin him to the floor by his throat, then he got his wish.

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy," he spat. "You just can't bear the fact that people around here would much rather listen to her than you!"

"At least I'm not the one who's being hounded by Death Eaters because of my filthy blood," Draco wheezed back. Not that he could have shouted, for Ron had such a tight grip on his throat, Harry imagined it must have been difficult to take enough breaths to allow for proper speech.

"Ooh, looks like the Head Boy is just aching to lose his title," Draco added, gleefully. Harry could see why, for Professor Sprout was heading towards them.

"Ron," Harry said, and jerked his head in the direction of Sprout. Reluctantly, Ron let go of Draco's throat. Draco stood up as Professor Sprout passed them.

"Hello, boys," she said.

"Hello, Professor," they replied, in unison, with big smiles plastered to their faces. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Draco pulled out his wand.

"I've been dying to do the pair of you all year," he hissed. Ron, oddly enough, was trying hard not to laugh.

"Oh, have you now?" he asked, before switching his attention to Harry. "You know, I have been told I have a natural swing in my hips," he said, which caused Harry to snigger. Draco's cheeks turned red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"You know what I mean!" he snapped, before muttering an incantation, and sending a red jet of light from his wand towards Harry. He deflected it, and aimed a swift jelly-legs hex back at Draco, who ran off to avoid it.

"I'm going after him!" Harry announced. Ron nodded, and pulled out his wand. Harry put a hand on his arm.

"Don't, Ron, you'll only get in trouble- and Malfoy's right, you might lose your Head Boy badge. If I go, then it's not your problem," Harry said, realising he was sounding like...

"You sound like..." Ron began, but Harry cut across him.

"Hermione, I know," he interrupted, before running off after Draco.

Judging from the clumping of footsteps nearby, Harry guessed that Draco had ascended the nearest flight of stairs. A few choice hexes floating from above, which Harry ducked, further proved his original hypothesis. He ran after Draco, firing off hexes, and not caring much whether there were any teachers about. Eventually, they reached the seventh floor with relatively little damage- Draco was dancing uncontrollably along the corridor, and Harry's left hand had grown to the size of a freshly picked coconut.

Suddenly, Draco stopped in front of a door. Well, he didn't exactly stop, Harry noted, instead he merely performed a manic jig in just the one spot. Harry drew out his wand, waiting to discover that Draco had lulled him into a false sense of security, but peeking over Draco's shoulder, he soon stopped what he was doing as well. Two people were having a sword fight of some description in the very room Harry had used during the days of Dumbledore's Army. They were wearing metal masks that obscured their faces from Harry, but the difference in height between the two figures, and their voices, made it pretty obvious to Harry who they were. It at least explained their absence from the High Table earlier.

"Come on, Severus; you're slipping!" Alex goaded, carefully balancing her weight between both her legs. She was aiming a sword at Snape, who had blocked her attack with his own sword, and countered quickly with a series of aggressive thrusts with his sword. Alex reacted swiftly, blocking each of his manoeuvres with relative ease, before lunging at him with such force, the pair toppled over and crashed into a table, which appeared to break their fall. Alex's sword flew out of her hand and clattered onto the floor, and Snape was pinned to the table by her weight.

"Whoops- sorry about that," Alex said, pulling her mask off with her free hand. "You okay?"

"Fine," Snape replied, as he tried, and failed to move his shoulder out from under Alex's other hand, who appeared to be gripping onto him for dear life.

"You know, you could just let go," he replied, slightly acerbically. Alex jerked her head towards the floor.

"I could, but seeing as my feet aren't touching the ground, I'd fall flat on my arse," she retorted, swiftly. Snape grunted something, and Alex glared at him, before yanking off his mask with her free hand. His head jerked forward sharply with the action

"Ouch! What did you do that for?" he demanded.

"I don't like taking to you with that thing obscuring your face!" she replied, and there was a moment of excruciating discomfort between them. Alex stared hard at Snape's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I can't see whether you're pulling a face at me!" she joked, though her expression suggested the subject wasn't at all amusing.

"I understand. Really, it's fine," Snape replied, looking straight at her. Alex coughed.

"Why is this table here, anyway?" she demanded, in a clear attempt to change the subject. Snape shrugged, or rather, he would have done had he been able to move both his shoulders.

"I would imagine one of us required it," he replied, smoothly.

"Better than breaking your neck, I suppose," she commented. "But then I doubt you appreciate being sandwiched between that table and my body."

"I've been in worse places," Snape replied, and the two looked at each other for a fraction longer than Harry would class as casual.

Alex suddenly averted her eyes and untangled herself from both Snape and the table.

"Right," she stated, "shall we go again?"

"Of course," Snape replied, having pulled himself off the table back into a standing position.

Harry was stunned. He was sure he looked stunned as well. That had to rank in Harry's personal top ten of bizarre occurrences- and he had witnessed Voldemort's rebirth! He turned to look at Draco, who seemed equally astonished by the sight, judging by the expression he wore on his face.

"Right," Draco said, suddenly, whilst jigging madly. "I'm sorry about what I said about Hermione. It was wrong."

Harry glared at him suspiciously, but before he could say anything, Draco spoke up.

"I say we call a truce. You back off; then I'll back off, and then we both go our separate ways and do our duty as students of this school," he whispered.

"Which would be?" Harry asked, disparagingly.

"To go to our respective common rooms and share this new found knowledge," Draco replied, quickly, as he bounced up and down on the spot.

"Okay, deal," Harry replied. Draco nodded.

"After tonight, the truce is off," he warned.

"I can live with that," Harry said, swiftly, before the two of them quietly removed the hexes they had placed on each other and backed away. Once Harry saw Draco run full-pelt down the nearest staircase, he made his way speedily to the Gryffindor common room, wondering what his friends would make of this bizarre bit of information, for he certainly didn't know what it could mean. There was no way he was spending another second at Hogwarts with Draco knowing something he didn't.

"You will never guess what I just saw!" he shouted, panting with the exertion of running up a corridor at a speed that would rival some broomsticks.

"What on earth's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked, whilst she carefully inked a bunch of flowers on a folded up piece of card, with the words 'Get Well Soon' inscribed across the top.

"Snape... Ridley..." Harry managed.

"Are teachers?" Ron suggested. Harry looked askance at him.

"Obviously," he said. "That's not it."

"Sit down, Harry," Neville suggested, as Dean moved a knight across the board and took one of his bishops. Harry flopped down into a nearby chair and got his breath back.

"Well, come on, spill!" Ron urged.

"Right, me and Malfoy were fighting, somewhere near the Room of Requirement. We saw Snape and Alex sword fighting there," Harry explained.

"So?" Hermione asked. "Alex used to do that loads, my mum says. She was an under twelve's regional fencing champion, apparently."

"Your mum knew Ridley?" Dean asked suddenly. Hermione nodded.

"Yeah, my mum used to baby-sit her, apparently," she replied.

"I doubt very much that she won that by straddling her opponents against nearby tables!" Harry spluttered. Ron and Hermione gawped at him. In fact, Hermione had put her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Harry, you didn't see them..." she trailed off, turning redder in the face with each word.

"Oh, I didn't actually see anything," he quickly added. "There were a lot of weird looks, though. Not to mention weird comments."

"I've got to ask, Harry- why did you stay and watch?" Ron enquired, a look of disgust on his face. "The last thing I'd want to stay and watch is Snape being straddled by anyone!"

"It's not like I enjoyed it!" Harry retorted. "It was kind of like watching a broom collision in a Quidditch match; you don't want to look at it, but somehow, you just can't tear your eyes away!"

"Are you sure you didn't just imagine it?" Neville asked. Harry looked at him.

"I saw it with my own two eyes!" Harry protested.

"Well, your own four eyes," Dean joked.

"Har, har," Harry replied, dully. Neville shook his head.

"But, but... but why would Ridley want to go anywhere near Snape?" he asked, clearly finding the whole idea both preposterous and revolting.

"Ridley, Snape- why am I suddenly hearing those two names in the same sentence?" Ginny asked, on entering the common room. Harry explained what he had seen between Alex and Snape in the Room of Requirement.

"Well, that sounds like flirting to me- not that I have any idea why they'd be flirting, do you, Hermione?" Ginny sniggered, before shooting a glance at Hermione.

"I've no more reason to know than you, Ginny," Hermione replied, tartly. Ginny bit her lip and shook momentarily with suppressed laughter.

"Of course you wouldn't," she replied, at which Hermione inexplicably scowled. Harry, personally, thought Ginny was bonkers. They were teachers, and teachers don't flirt, especially with each other. They take classes, mark papers and occasionally are permitted to get drunk- and that was only because Harry knew that Persephone was inclined to down a fair amount of alcohol. The very thought of teachers flirting sickened him; especially when Snape was figured into the equation.

"Anyway, are you coming to see Luna in the hospital wing later?" Ginny asked, changing the subject and distracting Harry from his thoughts. Hermione nodded, and pointed at her coloured in flowers.

"I made a card, seeing as we can't exactly go out and buy one," she added. Ginny beamed.

"Excellent," she said, before grabbing a quill and writing a message inside.

"I'll go and see Professor Sprout; she might let me take some flowers," Neville suggested. Dean nudged him.

"Of course she will, because you love her!" he teased.

"Dean, that joke wore thin in the beginning of September," Neville replied. Dean looked bewildered.

"That was the first time I ever made it!" he protested.

"Exactly," Neville retorted, which caused the nearby students to laugh.

"I'm going to see Luna," Ginny announced to everyone.

"We'll meet you down there in a bit," Hermione replied, handing Ginny the card to take with her.

"How is Luna?" Neville asked.

"She's okay; Madame Pomfrey had some general poison antidote Snape had apparently prepared shortly after Dumbledore's... what happened to Dumbledore. She's got to spend the night in the hospital wing for observation, though," Hermione explained.

"At least we get to share this bit of gossip about the new Transfiguration teacher with her- it'll take her mind off things," Ron suggested.

"But Snape and Ridley- that's just wrong," Neville complained, again.

"What they do in their private life is their business," Hermione commented. Neville looked at her in horror.

"That doesn't make it right!" he retorted, with a shudder, and the Gryffindors laughed again.

A yapping noise distracted Harry, and he soon found himself with a small dog trying to clamber its way into his lap. He lifted Frank up and gently stroked his furry head.

"What's up with you lot?" Persephone asked, as she walked into the common room, her cheeks tinged with pink. She had clearly been exercising Frank outside, but judging by the state of them both, it had been Frank that had been exercising Persephone instead.

"Oh, Harry saw Professor Ridley on top of Professor Snape," Neville replied. Persephone looked horrified.

"Harry?" she asked, warily.

"No, no- I saw them sword fighting, and they tripped," he replied. Persephone put her hand to her chest and exhaled in relief.

"Oh, I see- I was going to say!" she exclaimed, with a snicker.

"That's what I meant!" Neville protested. Dean and Seamus burst out laughing, and patted a now reddening Neville on the back.

"They did seem very friendly, though," Harry said, knowingly. Persephone froze at this comment.

"Friendly?" she asked, beckoning Harry to come closer. He let Frank go, and the small half-crup bounded off in another direction of the Common Room.

"Yeah," he replied, once they were out of earshot of the other students. "They were chatting like they'd known each other for years. Plus, there was a lot of staring- I told Ginny, and she reckoned they were flirting," he added. Persephone frowned.

"I see... would you excuse me? I need to go and speak to... some people," she faltered, before storming out of the Gryffindor common room.

"What was all that about?" Hermione asked, as she and Ron walked over to Harry.

"I don't know," Harry replied. Persephone's reaction really made little sense to him. "I told her about Snape and Alex, and she seemed really annoyed."

"Maybe she's having parental issues?" Ron suggested. Harry looked at him.

"Parental issues?" he asked. He glanced across at Hermione, who appeared to understand what Ron was getting at.

"Well, she's just started getting used to her new relationship with her father, and now he's becoming attached to another woman. It must be a lot to deal with, and she is only young, really," she explained. Ron nodded.

"Yeah- parental issues," he reiterated, although he looked a little confused by Hermione's explanation.

"Anyway, we should go and see Luna," Hermione said. Harry nodded, and the three left the Gryffindor common room. Harry found it difficult to accept that all Persephone was concerned about was her father finding a new friend. The expression he had seen on her face definitely had a hint of anxiety about it; what he couldn't figure out though, was why.