Harry Potter and the Last Goodnight

Chapter Twenty-One: A Costume Only Fitting

Harry had finally done it. After an hour of blocking Snape from his mind, he'd managed to hit him with a jelly-legs jinx. Harry tried desperately not to laugh as Snape jiggled around the dungeon before performing the correct counter-curse.

In fact, the whole night had gone rather well. Snape had not seen any of his memories. He hadn't lost control of his emotions, even when Snape talked about Sirius as nothing more than a half-bred mutt.

It made up for the bad afternoon he'd had with Parvati's big mouth. The image of Snape with jelly legs was worth twenty verses of "Harry and Ginny, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." He had to wonder if his peers had nothing better to do than act like children.

Snape, who was still out of breath from the curse, glared at Harry with fierce eyes. "We're done for tonight, Potter. I'll see you on Thursday. Get out of my sight!" he bellowed.

Harry, who had been halfway to the door as soon as he'd heard the phrase we're done, stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back to Snape, who was red in the face and greasier than ever.

"Professor, I've got my Muggle Studies field trip on Thursday. We leave after lunch and don't get back until late at night."

There was a glimmer in Snape's eye as straightened up at his desk. "Then you can't go."

"But... I have to..." Harry stammered. He'd been looking forward to the Halloween field trip ever since the first week of school.

"No, you do not have to," Snape spat. "You cannot go."

"But it's for a class."

"But it is not required. It is not a test. It is not an examination. It is a silly field trip and a waste of time," he growled. However, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was taking some sort of sick pleasure in spoiling Harry's fun.

"Sir, please, Professor Avis and Mr. Weasley have made reservations. They're expecting me to go."

"Then I will give you a choice," Snape replied. "Your training is now more important than ever, Potter. You will miss the field trip and stay for your lesson on Thursday, or you will go on the field trip and we will have our lesson on Friday."

"But sir, I have Quidditch practice on Friday night. Our first match is this Saturday. I can't miss it." And Snape knew full well that it was against Slytherin.

"Then you must choose. The field trip or Quidditch."

"Isn't there any other time we could do it?" Harry asked. "Tomorrow?"

"I will not rearrange my entire schedule for your silly little excursions, Potter," he snapped.

Harry scowled. What could Snape possibly be doing the night before Halloween? Of course, it was Devil's night. Perhaps he had to go out and cause mischief with his fellow demons. However, it didn't matter, because Harry still had to make a choice.

He didn't want to miss the field trip. He'd only been to Londonon a few occasions. Hopefully, Ron would understand about Quidditch practice.

He took a deep breath. "I'll see you on Friday."

Snape gave no response. Harry sighed and trudged out of the dungeon, his spirits squashed beneath Snape's jelly legs. It was going to be hard to enjoy himself on the field trip if he knew he'd be letting his team down the next day.

* * *

The twenty students in Muggle Studies scarcely touched their lunch on Halloween. They Great Hall had been decorated with bewitched pumpkins and enchanted bats. There was a skull centerpiece in the middle of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's table.

"It's too bad you're going to miss the feast," Hermione said quietly. She held Ron's hand discreetly in her lap as he picked at his soup with his other hand. Harry found the gesture sweet, yet a little unnerving.

"Why don't you and Ron come out about your... your relationship?" Harry asked suddenly. Hermione shushed him, but he kept talking. "What's the big secret?"

"Did you see what happened when word got out about what you were doing with my sister?" Ron hissed.

"I wasn't doing anything with Ginny!" Harry cried angrily. "How many times do I have to tell you?" He glanced at Ginny, who was sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table, chatting with Luna Lovegood. Both she and Harry had decided that they shouldn't be seen together - it would only make the situation worse.

"He - I mean, both Ron and I - just decided that some things should be kept private," Hermione explained. "Eventually we'll tell people. It's just that, right now, we like having our own little secret." She grinned at Ron, who squeezed her hand.

The expressions on their faces made Harry lose his appetite. "Well, I'm going to get going to Muggle Studies. Don't want to be late or anything."

"I should go too," Ron said, letting go of Hermione's hand and standing up. "I'll see you later tonight," he said. He hesitated, as though he were thinking of giving her a proper goodbye.

"See you," she said.

Ron's face was flushed. "Right... Bye, Hermione." He flashed a small smile and then joined Harry at the doorway.

"Honestly, you'd think you were leaving for a week or something," Harry grumbled.

"You're just jealous," Ron teased. "If you had someone as great as Hermione waiting for you at Hogwarts, you wouldn't want to leave either."

Harry smiled. "I suppose not." Why was the image of Eva in a Gryffindor house uniform, sitting next to him on a couch in the common room enough to make his heart jump into his throat? He thought back to what Nora had said. If only she were a witch...

It was no use wishing for things that could never happen.

When the two of them reached the Muggle Studies classroom, most of the other students were already there. Instead of wearing their normal house colors, everyone was dressed the same in black pants and a white shirt. Professor Avis was wearing an ankle-length black skirt with a pumpkin sketched near the bottom hem. Matching pumpkin earrings hung from her ears, and every few seconds they would light up. She had a whistle on a rope around her neck, and after everyone had arrived, she blew into it.

Everyone immediately stopped talking and stood at attention. Professor Avis cleared her throat. "Good afternoon everyone. I hope you're all excited for today's field trip. In a few minutes, we'll travel one by one to the Ministry using FlooPowder. I'd like to remind you all that you need to be on your best behavior. There will be no goofing off, no Muggle bashing, and absolutely no magic.

"When you hear my whistle, I want everyone to stop what they are doing and line up for the head count. It is very important that we all stay together. The Muggle world can be a very dangerous place. Questions are welcome, but please try to blend in with the crowd. We are trying to be invisible."

After a few more last-minute warnings, she had everyone line up and take turns with the Floo Powder. Harry and Ron were near the end, and when they reached the Ministry, Mr. Weasley was already handing out the gray sweaters they were all supposed to wear. There was a patch on the sleeve with an open book on it, along with the initials M.O.M. stitched into it.

"What's mom?" Ron asked.

"Not mom. M-O-M," Mr. Weasley replied. "M.O.M. stands for the Ministry of Magic. However, if someone asks you, you are to say that you are from the Major Oxford Merchant Academy. This is a clever way for other wizard folk to recognize us and to be disguised as Muggle tourists."

Harry didn't know how clever it was for Muggle use. He'd never heard of Major Oxford Merchant Academy.

"Are Muggles really going to talk to us?" one Hufflepuff girl questioned.

"More likely than not," Mr. Weasley said. "Just act natural. They're just like you and me."

"No need to worry, dear," Professor Avis said after she had arrived. "We all speak the same language. Er... Usually."

As Harry looked around the hallway they were in more closely, he realized that they were outside the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office on the second floor. The door was open a little, and Harry couldn't help but casually peek inside.

"We've got a few minutes," Mr. Weasley said to Harry privately. "You could stop in and say hello if you like."

Harry jumped, startled that Mr. Weasley had seen him. "Er... No, that's all right. Unless, um, is Eva working?" he asked quietly.

Mr. Weasley shook his head with a sad smile and glimmer of mischief in his eye. "Sorry, she's already left for the day. She's only part-time, you know. She's got another job."

He nodded. "I know - I mean, that's what Nora told me," he added quickly. "I was just wondering how she was doing." Harry felt his face redden. He should have known that she wasn't there. Now Mr. Weasley might suspect that there was something between them.

Harry hoped there was.

* * *

By far, the most amazing experience for the students in the class was not the tour of the Tower of London or even when they received some free samples from a local candy store. "It doesn't do anything special," Ron complained as he bit into some hard candy. "I thought there'd be sparks or something."

No, the greatest experience was Muggle transportation. The ride on the red double-decker bus was enchanting. Everyone rushed to the top excitedly and waved to the pedestrians below.

Harry didn't find the ride that impressive. He had, after all, ridden on the Knight Bus, a purple triple-decker bus, twice. Though the ride through Londonwas a bit more exciting and had cooled him off from being on the stuffy tour all day.

"Hermione'll be mad she missed this," Ron said, leaning over the side of the bus.

Harry shook his head. "I bet she's done this loads of times before."

Ron, substantially deflated, turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll never find a way to impress her."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you need to impress her?"

Ron shrugged. "I just wish there was something special I could do for her. Something that nobody else could do but me. Of course, being stuck at Hogwarts doesn't help much. What kind of a date can you have at a school?"

"There's always Hogsmeade," Harry suggested. "You could take her back to Madam Puddifoot's."

"That's all right, but I want something special. Something spectacular." Ron frowned. "Something romantic - and private. I was thinking of going up to the astronomy tower at midnight sometime, and we could look at the stars. She'd like that."

"Yeah, she would," Harry agreed. "But how are you going to get up there?"

"There are about seven doors with locks we'd have to break through somehow; I walked Ginny to astronomy last week and counted. If only it wasn't so high up. The windows are always open. It'd be easier to get in that way."

"You could take your brooms."

"She won't fly," Ron explained. "I don't know why, but she refuses. I even said that she could ride behind me and hold 'round my waist. She won't do it."

"That's odd."

Ron nodded. "I know that she's never been much of a Quidditch player, nor a flier, but now I can't even get her on a broom." He sighed and went back to watching the street. "If only I could find a black market flying carpet or something. Something that flies that she would feel safe on. Like the Anglia."

"I don't think you'll run across that flying contraption again," Harry chuckled. "Too bad you don't have another car."

Just as the bus turned a corner, a motorcycle pulled out in front of it. The double-decker's brakes squealed as it came to a halt. Harry heard several honking horns before the bus moved again.

"That's it!" Harry cried.

"What is?" Ron questioned.

"You can take Sirius's bike," Harry said. "It's safer than a broom - and faster too. I'm sure Hermione would ride that."

"Are you sure it's okay?" Ron asked. "You'd really let me use it for a date with Hermione?"

Harry shrugged. "It's just sitting behind Hagrid's hut. At least someone would get some good use out of it." Harry looked away. He couldn't meet Ron's eyes, but he did mean what he'd said.

"Excellent!" Ron shouted. "Thanks so much, Harry. Now I know Hermione'llbe impressed." He clapped Harry on the back. "But maybe I should take it on a test drive first, you know, just to make sure that I won't crash into any trees when Hermione's on it."

Harry nodded. "Fine with me."

Ron seemed to have caught his second wind. The class's morale seemed deteriorated from hunger, and everyone was overjoyed when Professor Avis said that dinner was their next stop. Neville, who had already received half a dozen warnings for speaking about the wizarding world in front of Muggles, also perked up at the sound of a meal.

"Gran wrote me a letter about the Royal Dining Realm," he said to the two of them. Harry was surprised, as he'd been acting oddly around the two of them for the past few days. "She said they have a special show on Thursday nights."

"What else did she tell you about it?" Harry asked. It was the first time Neville had spoke to him in a while. He wanted to be polite.

"She said that you're supposed to call all of the waitresses and barmaids "wenches." And when you want something, like more food, you just shout out for the wench at the top of your lungs and she comes running."

"I'd hate to be a wench," Harry said sadly.

"At least they have good service," Ron said.

"And actually, they're all women," Neville explained. "It's just like it was in ancient times. Gran says that it reminds her of her own grandmother's stories when she was a little girl."

"Yeah, ancient times when women were assaulted at every meal," Hannah Abbott grumbled, standing next to Neville. "They were always taken advantage of. The wenches were only one step up from the prostitutes. They got a very raw deal."

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

"You know Ron, for being a prefect you sure didn't pay much attention in History of Magic last year. Professor Binns talked about it for a whole two days before the Goblin Rebellion."

"Oh... Right..." he replied, his face growing red. "Must have slipped my mind."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't know what she sees in you."

"Who?"

"Hermione."

Ron's jaw dropped. His face turned the same shade of red as his hair. "H-how d'you know about that?"

"She told me about it," Hannah said simply.

"When?" Ron demanded.

"Yesterday, in the bathroom before dinner. She told Susan and me the whole thing."

Ron choked as though he'd swallowed his own shoe. Luckily for him, the bus came to a stop and Professor Avis and Mr. Weasley quickly ushered everyone off the bus. They led the class to a large brick building that looked as though it covered the expanse of an entire block. Professor Avis lined them up in two rows of boys and girls, and then blew her whistle.

"There are a few things I should say before we go inside," Mr. Weasley announced. "Number one, we must all be on our best behavior. It was lucky that we could get even get some seats inside this dining hall. I had to have one of my special friends pull a few strings for me, but we managed to get in. Number two, there may be some of our kind inside, but that does not mean that any sort of magic is permitted." He had whispered our kind and glanced over at Neville, who looked rather pleased that he'd be seeing his grandmother. "And number three, have fun! Eat a lot. There will be plenty to go around. Once we get inside, everyone will get to pick out a costume, and then we'll proceed to the arena to watch some medieval games, and then the feast will begin!"

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Arthur," Professor Avis said. "Enjoy yourselves!"

After Mr. Weasley checked in at a desk inside, everyone was ushered into two changing rooms - one for boys and one for girls. The boys' room was filled with costumes from all ranges of nobility and peasants. Immediately, all of the boys separated, searching out what role they wanted to play.

Ernie and Justin found some jester costumes, complete with two-colored hats that had bells on the end. They even had little booties with curled up toes. Dean and Seamus changed into some nobility costumes that had matching crests over the breast pockets, along with great white frilly collars that hung around their necks. The last pieces were huge, wide-brimmed hats with a large feather poking out of each one. Ron decided to wear a beggar's costume with patches on the elbows and knees, and also came with a tin can for collecting money.

Neville found a wizard's costume with a robe of deep black velvet and a matching hat. "Look!" he cried to the others. "I'm Dumbledore!" The costume also came with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles.

"Shut up, eh?" Dean hissed. "You've already gotten us in enough trouble already." Neville had a few outbursts during their tour earlier that day about the wizardingworld, which had earned him some strange looks from nearby Muggles.

Harry searched in some old dusty trunks but couldn't find a costume that he liked. The crowd outside of the costume room was growing louder, and he knew he only had a few minutes before the show began. He thought about just throwing on something so he could join the others outside, when an old oak armoire caught his eye.

He opened the top drawer and neatly folded inside was a knight's attire. Black fabric sparkled with metal mesh as he pulled out the dusty costume. Instantly, he knew that this was the costume for him. He quickly pulled it on, his decorative metals clanging against the armor. There was even a sword in its sheath that he wrapped around his waist. There was a crest on his chest that matched the one on Dean and Seamus's costumes. The last piece was a silver helmet with three small red feathers poking out of the top.

"Ready, Harry?" Ron questioned. "Wow, you look spectacular!"

Harry studied himself in a nearby mirror. "Yeah, almost real."

"Is there another costume like that lying around?" Ron asked. "I think that maybe I should pick a new costume."

"Nah, that one suits you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron demanded, insulted.

"Nothing." Harry grinned. "C'mon, let's go."