Furious Angels

13: The Dueling Club

The discovery of Colin Creevey's mangled body resulted in a return of the Aurors to Hogwarts, and a return of the gossip. The students began eyeing each other with suspicion, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was swiftly escalating from a cold war to a hot one. Members of both Houses were falling into the habit of traveling in groups to avoid random hexing.

It shamed Harry to realize that among the many feelings Creevey's death had stirred within him was relief. It wasn't the most prominent emotion the boy's murder had caused... no that was guilt, guilt over not being friendlier toward him, rather than constantly thinking of Colin as an annoyance. He knew his friends felt the same way... Ginny and Luna, who sat near Colin during several classes and who had treated him the kindliest, were distraught. Even Ron had cried when Dumbledore announced the murder in front of the assembled student body... even now, two weeks after Colin's death, merely mentioning him in Ron's presence would cause the red-headed boy to go into a deep funk.

Paranoia was running deeply, and everyone was feeling on-edge. It came as no surprise to any of the friends when it was discovered that some enterprising Slytherin student had started up an under-the-table business selling "protective amulets" that eventually were shown to be nothing more than cloth bags filled with hair, dried vegetables, and glitter. This scandal caused a great amount of gossip that only ended when a new notice was put up in the four common rooms. Word had travelled quickly, so even those who weren't able to get through the crowds of people surrounding the notice board found out that an officially sanctioned dueling club had been started.

As Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville followed Harry and Ginny down to the Great Hall for the club's first meeting, Harry chose to relate other information. "He just appeared out of nowhere, and woke me up by bouncing on the bed! He scared the dickens out of me!"

Ginny laughed and patted Harry on the shoulder. "My poor honey... frightened by a house-elf. Your image as a tough guy and slayer of dark wizards is in peril if anyone finds out, Harry." Ron and Neville couldn't suppress chuckles. Luna merely smiled; her smile widened as she took in Hermione's confused look.

"What's a house-elf? Why is it funny for one to have frightened Harry?" Hermione asked.

"A house-elf is a little person that stands about two feet tall, Hermione," Luna answered. "They have big soft eyes and are just about the cutest magical creature on earth other than a miraj." Luna took Hermione's hand in her own and, laughing gently, gave it a gentle squeeze.

Only Neville noticed that the two girls never dropped each other's hands. "Er... Luna... isn't the miraj... I mean... isn't it... isn't the miraj a vicious predator? I heard they kill and eat entire cows at once," he asked.

Luna nodded. "Oh yes... the miraj is completely bloodthirsty and violent. It is dangerous to be around, even for a fully trained wizard, as they are never truly tamed. But you can't deny they are cute... what, I ask you, is cuter than a fuzzy little bunny rabbit with a unicorn's horn on its head?"

Ahead of the rest of the group, only Harry and Ginny heard Ron's muttered "She's mental, I tell you...", but it was enough for the pair to suffer a short case of the giggles.

"So what did the house-elf say, Harry?" Neville asked from the back.

Harry turned to walk backwards for a bit, rather than yell over his shoulder. Ginny moved closer to him, making sure he didn't trip or run into anything. "Well, for one he said he was responsible for sealing the portal to Platform 9 3/4, and that it was he who enchanted the Bludger to follow me like a foxhound on the scent."

Harry spun quickly, making sure his course was clear, and then turned back around. "He also said that I needed to leave Hogwarts because my life was in danger. As if that was a surprise." Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, and he confirmed the existence of the Chamber of Secrets. Apparently, this isn't the first time it's been opened... and people died the last time too... a Muggle-born girl..."

Ginny grabbed Harry by the arm and spun him back around to face front just in time to prevent her husband from slamming back-first into a pillar. He smiled sheepishly at her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Well that's what 'enemies of the heir' obviously means, doesn't it?" Ron said. It was a statement, not a question, despite how it was phrased. "Look at Slytherin House... when was the last time a Muggle-born was sorted into that House? For that matter, when was the last time a Half-Blood witch or wizard was sorted into Slytherin? It just doesn't happen."

"You're right, Ronald... even though the last Half-Blood Slytherin was sorted rather recently." At everyone's blank expressions, she continued. "It was last year... September 1, 1991. Tracey Davis. You must remember her, Ronald... she was in the same Sorting as you were. Before that, it was Severus Snape, sorted September 1, 1971."

"Wait... Mister Slytherin Git himself is a Half-Blood? Wow..." Neville looked shocked.

Luna nodded. "Yes, he is. And before that, you have to go all the way back to a boy named Tom Riddle way back in 1938." No one noticed Ron's expression darken at the mention of the name... the shadow that passed over the boy's face was there and gone too quickly. "I don't know if the Sorting Hat actually tests for blood purity when he sorts children into Slytherin House, or whether pureblood children are just naturally more inclined to have Slytherin attributes, but Half-Bloods are rare, and there's never been a Muggle-born in Slytherin at all."

It was Ginny's turn to walk backward. "How do you know this?"

Luna shrugged. "I read a lot... and anything I can get my hands on. Encyclopedias, dictionaries, biographies, old school records... it's all in the Library."

Ron turned back to Hermione. "Are you frightened? Does it frighten you?"

"Does what frighten me?" Hermione asked in return.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Does the fact that the Heir of Slytherin is singling out Muggle-born students frighten you?"

"Oh!" Hermione was silent for a moment. "I suppose I ought to be... but no, not really... I mean... I'm always surrounded by you guys... and if I can't trust my friends to watch out for me, who can I trust, right?"

As the group continued toward the Great Hall, no one noticed the grave smile that lit Ron's face. His eyes burned with a dim red for a moment. "You're right, Hermione... if you can't trust your friends, who can you trust..."

"What was that, Ron?" Luna asked from her place next to Hermione.

"What? Oh, nothing... just wondering which professor was going to run the Dueling Club. Flitwick's supposed to be a former All-Europe Champion... I hope it's him."

Harry chuckled as they reached the doors of the Great Hall. "The way our luck works, it's bound to be..."

"Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Gather round, students, gather round."

"... the plonker," Harry finished. His face fell visibly as he envisioned the results of a 'dueling lesson' led by Gilderoy Lockhart. The man in question was striding up and down a raised dueling platform. The Defense instructor was dressed in deep purple robes with a light violet piping. His hair, as always, was perfect. The other man on the platform, Professor Snape, was a study in contrast when seen next to Lockhart. The Potions Master was in his usual black robes, and stood motionless while Lockhart paced.

All around them milled what looked like most of the school's student body. They were standing around in loose clumps, separating themselves out by House, then year, then cliques within the year. Harry and his friends moved to stand near Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were conversing with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

"Excellent!" Lockhart began with a smile, "Now... you might be wonder why I, Gilderoy Lockhart, am here." The man grinned, exposing a set of teeth that were impressively white. "Obviously, I am the most logical person to instruct others on the ancient and noble arts of self-defense... please see my collected works as reference." He resumed pacing the length of the dueling platform as he spoke. "Professor Dumbledore has wisely agreed to allow me to start up a Dueling Club. It is the Headmaster's hope that you will all come away from this with some basic knowledge in how to defend yourself should the situation ever call for it."

"You all know my assistant, of course!" With a flourish, Lockhart waved Professor Snape forward. The Potions Master didn't move or smile. Indeed, it didn't even look like he was breathing. "When I mentioned I was beginning a dueling club, Professor Snape jumped at the chance to work with a true master... he says he knows a little bit about dueling, so I'm sure he'll do fine."

Lockhart nodded to Snape, who strode to one end of the platform while the Defense professor moved to the other. "We'll begin with a little demonstration. Don't worry, children..." Lockhart paused with a smile. "I'll go easy on your potions master, never fear!"

"Maybe they'll kill each other," Luna said quietly. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"That would be nice... but we're not that lucky," Ginny whispered back.

Abruptly, the two professors turned toward each other and bowed to each other. Or rather, Lockhart bowed, deeply like a courtier. Snape, on the other hand, merely dipped his head toward his colleague. They both then assumed a fighting position with their wands forward. "As you can see... first you bow to your opponent, and then you make ready for combat," Lockhart said unnecessarily. "On the count of three, we'll begin the duel."

Harry looked around at the crowd, immediately sensing that most of the students were feeling like he was: if only one of them would kill the other. Exactly just who each individual student was rooting to kill who apparently depended on their house, their potions grade, and amazingly enough, whether they were male or female, it seemed.

"One! Two! Three!" As soon as Lockhart called out the third number, Snape was in motion. With surprising grace and speed, he made a quick series of moves with his wand and cried out, "Expelliarmus!" There was a bright red flash and suddenly Lockhart was blown backwards, off the platform and into the wall. The Defense instructor hadn't been able to even move before being struck by Snape's spell.

The students stared in silence at Lockhart, who was sprawled face down on the floor. Then, suddenly, a crowd of students, mostly Slytherins but surprisingly also Harry and his friends, gave out a loud cheer. The noise only died down when Lockhart first shifted one of his arms, then climbed unsteadily back to his feet.

"Ah... yes... er... well, there you have it... the Disarming Charm! I clearly..." Lockhart glanced around nervously, staring at the floor. "... Clearly don't have my wand any longer... ah, thank you Miss Brocklehurst, thank you." The Defense professor shook his head as he remounted the dueling platform. "Er... yes... excellent idea, Professor Snape. Excellent... showing them that first. Grand place to start, yes."

On the other end of the platform, Snape just glared. Lockhart didn't notice, of course, being too wrapped up in his own image. "Of course, it was fairly obvious, which is why I made no move to defend myself." His toothy grin once more lit his face. After a second, Lockhart seemed to notice Snape's killer stare. "All right, then... enough demonstrating. Let's... er... Professor Snape and I will now move among you and pair you up so you can practice together. If you would, Professor?"

Snape stared at him a moment, then nodded. "Certainly... Professor..." The Potions Master's voice seemed to drip with irony.

While Lockhart moved at seeming random, pairing up whichever students happened to be close together, Snape strode like a shark through the sea directly toward the six friends. He stood over them, staring at Harry with a nasty gleam in his eye. "Well... let's break up your little band... just for the excitement of seeing what happens."

With that, Professor Snape raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Within moments, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Marcus Flint, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle appeared at his elbow. "So... let's see... Parkinson and Lovegood, Bulstrode and Granger, Crabbe and Weasley, Flint and Longbottom... try not to kill him, Flint... Goyle with the other Weasley..." Snape looked directly at Ginny when he said this. "... And Malfoy, let's see what you make of Potter." The six friends looked at each other nervously. Hermione even went so far as to offer a kind smile to Millicent Bulstrode, but the larger girl merely stared. The other Slytherins stared at the Gryffindor six as if they were tigers in the zoo and the feeding bell had just been rung.

Back on the dueling platform, Lockhart called out, "Face your partners and bow!" Harry shrugged to his friends. He stared at Malfoy for a moment and then bowed. His eyes never left the other boy, though. One by one, the others bowed as well.

None of the Slytherins returned the courtesy.

Lockhart's voice echoed across the hall. "Wands at the ready!"

With practiced ease, Harry brought his wand up and over his shoulder, pointing directly at Malfoy's chest. He shifted his feet so that his right foot was pointed aside and carrying his weight. The left he pointed forward, bent at the knee. He was ready to move when he needed to. Flint's eyes widened for a moment, and the seventh year looked to his Head of House. Snape's mouth was open in obvious shock, but the Potions Master just nodded to his student.

Not wanting to take his eyes off of Malfoy for a moment, Harry forced himself not to glance at Ginny, but he heard her shift and knew that, like him, she was entering one of the five classic dueling positions. He had chosen the Turlington Offensive Position for its benefits to out-of-the-gate casting. Idly, he wondered if Ginny went with the Turlington, or maybe the Dimetrikov...

"Now... on the count of three cast your charms to disarm your opponent. Disarm only! The last thing any of you want to do is accidentally injure your partner!" At Lockhart's words, Draco Malfoy smirked and Harry immediately knew that, whatever spells Draco chose to cast, none would be Expelliarmus.

"One! Two!"

Malfoy didn't wait for "three". The boy's wand came down as he called out, "Petrificus Totalis!". A silvery jet of light shot out of the end of his wand. Harry immediately waved his wand and thought, Protego. As his Shield Charm formed around him, Harry jabbed his wand forward and thought, Neresvite! Abruptly, the floor at Malfoy's feet erupted and black, ropy vines flew up to grab at the boy.

Malfoy struggled as the vines tightened around his arms. Harry lowered his wand and stepped back, feeling that it would be unsporting to attack while his foe was unable to respond. This proved to be a mistake, because Malfoy managed to point his wand at Harry and said "Tarantallegra!" Immediately, Harry's legs began to jerk and bounce in some sort of demented tap-dances. In return, Harry waved a wand at Draco. The boy's pale blond hair lengthened and wrapped itself around Malfoy's eyes, blocking his vision.

"STOP! I said disarm only! What do you think... STOP, I said!" Lockhart yelled as he tried to make his way through the crowd. Snape watched the other professor approach before turning his attention back to the fights in front of him.

"Finite Incantatem!" Snape said, pointing his wand at Malfoy; immediately, the vines released the boy's arms and his hair shortened to its natural length. The Potions Master stood over Harry for a moment before repeating the charm. Harry's legs stopped dancing around as he looked around, amazed at the chaos that had erupted in the Great Hall. A greenish cloud of smoke hovered over the crowd, obscuring the enchanted ceiling. Both Neville and Flint were lying on their backs, seemingly unconscious. Millicent Bulstrode had Hermione in a headlock; the smaller girl was continually, but ineffectively, banging a fist on the arm restraining her head. Luna sat next to Pansy Parkinson on the floor, and both girls were nursing bloody noses.

On the other hand, Ginny was sitting on the chest of an obviously unconscious Gregory Goyle, and was busily changing the color of his skin, hair, and robes to crimson and gold, while Ron had Vincent Crabbe floating in the air in front of him by one heel. Snape moved through the group, releasing spells as he went and Ennervating Goyle, Neville, and Marcus Flint. He waved his wand at Pansy Parkinson, healing her nose, but left Luna's bleeding. And when he got to Ron Weasley, Snape stopped and simply stared.

"Is anything wrong, Professor?" Ron's eyes were hooded.

After a moment, Snape turned away. He gazed on the Gryffindor Six with a sneer and said, "Ten points from Gryffindor, each, for failure in following directions. Professor Lockhart said to disarm only, and none of you listened. And ten more points from Miss Weasley, for casting beyond the bounds of the lesson. Return Goyle to his correct coloration this instant."

Ginny began to open her mouth when Harry tapped her on the shoulder. He nodded toward the gem-filled hour glasses. She glanced at them, and then turned back to Harry, confused. Quietly, he whispered, "No points were deducted... he called you by the wrong name and no points were deducted."

She smiled as she turned back to Professor Snape. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I don't know the counter-charm... we haven't learned that one yet."

Snape fumed. He was about to say something when Lockhart interjected. "I think we'd better teach you students how to block unfriendly spells. What say, Professor? That should cut down on the incidence of violence." Lockhart looked and sounded flustered, and was obviously trying to regain some control over the situation.

"Let's have a volunteer pair..." The Defense professor scanned the crowd of students. "How about... Longbottom... yes, and you... what was your name again, boy?"

A startled Hufflepuff spoke up. "Finch-Fletchley, sir... Justin..."

"Ah, excellent... yes, so let's the two of you," Lockhart began.

"Professor... There's no telling what would happen to Finch-Fletchley if we allow Longbottom to point his wand at him. The boy's a menace. If I might suggest... how about Potter and Malfoy... they seemed to be well-matched, from what I just saw," Snape interrupted with a twisted smile.

"Excellent!" Lockhart exclaimed as he pushed the two boys toward the dueling platform.

"Kick his ass sideways, Harry," Neville muttered as Harry walked passed. Harry grinned at his friend, and then looked to the others for encouragement. All were cheering him on, except for Ron, who just looked angry. Harry could understand the sentiment... the entire thing smelled like a set-up.

Once Harry was in position at the end of the dueling platform, Lockhart leaned over to give him some advice. "Now, Harry... when Malfoy points his wand at you, you do this..." The Defense professor gave his wand an odd sort of wiggle. Harry could barely suppress a snort as the Defense instructor dropped his wand. "Ah, yes... that shows you the benefit of properly waxing and polishing your wand, you see... without it the natural oils of your skin can make it a bit slippery." Lockhart looked sheepish as he quickly picked his wand back up.

Professor Snape was kneeling beside Malfoy, whispering into the boy's ear. Malfoy merely smirked and nodded. Harry had no idea what it was that Snape was saying, but knew in his gut that it wasn't a good thing for him. He quickly called an array of combat spells to mind; several he discarded immediately. The last thing Harry wanted to do was burn Malfoy to a cinder from the inside, or cause his innards to erupt from his body, or turn him to stone... Well actually, Harry thought to himself, I'd love to do all that to the git... but not here, and not now. No... I'll wait until Voldemort has the castle surrounded and Malfoy sneaks in to get me and Ginny...

Malfoy noticed Harry's blank stare and smirked again. "Scared, Potter?"

"You wish," Harry spat in reply.

"Don't worry, Potter... I'll take care of your trollop and the Mudblood for you once you're gone." Malfoy nodded his head toward Ginny and Hermione.

Harry's grin was the dark, dangerous kind that sharks typically displayed. "As long as you don't go crying to your mum when I spank you in front of all these people, Draco."

Lockhart patted Harry on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. Now..." He and Professor Snape stepped off the platform. "One, two, three... begin!" he shouted.

Harry, half expecting Malfoy to jump the gun again, was already in motion. He side-stepped and brought up his Protego shield. Draco, on the other hand, loudly bellowed, "Serpensortia!" A long, vicious-looking cobra exploded from the end of Malfoy's wand and landed in the middle of the platform. It angrily raised its head and spread its hood, ready to strike. The assembled students began to yell and scream as they madly scrambled away from the deadly reptile.

"Potter, Malfoy... don't move!" Snape looked truly alarmed as he stepped forward, but it was Lockhart who acted first.

"I'll get it, Severus!" Lockhart waved his wand at the snake, and it was launched abruptly into the air. The cobra bounced none-too-gently off of the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling before landing at the feet of Justin Finch-Fletchley. The reptile immediately reared back with its fangs exposed, ready to bite its unwitting victim.

Harry ran forward as quickly as he could and shouted, "Stop! I command you to stop! Leave him alone!" Immediately, the cobra turned toward Harry. Its bead-like eyes seemed to bore into him for a moment, but then it slithered back a few feet. The snake turned back to Justin just once and hissed at him, baring its fangs, but then turned quickly back to Harry.

"What the hell are you playing at, Potter?" Justin's voice quavered with fear. Harry merely stared at the Hufflepuff boy in shock and confusion. The snake's not going to attack... it's just sitting there, for Merlin's sake! Harry thought to himself. Why's he so angry at me? He's not bitten or anything! Abruptly, the Hufflepuff turned and stormed out of the Great Hall. He was quickly followed by the rest of Hufflepuff House, nearly all of whom gave Harry withering glances as they left.

Harry was so involved in watching the Hufflepuff exodus that when the snake abruptly vanished in a puff of smoke, he jerked backwards visibly. He glanced toward Professor Snape and was surprised to see the Potions Master staring back at him. However, the look on Snape's face wasn't its usual, casual hatred, but was rather one of shrewd calculation... as if Snape was seeing Harry for the first time, ever. Lockhart, too, was staring at Harry, but in shock and horror. Harry slowly became aware of the crowd of students around the dueling platform. They were muttering amongst each other, and all of them were staring at him. He turned, extremely uncomfortable from all the attention, when his eyes finally found Ginny. Ginny's face didn't display fright, or shock, or awe like everyone else's... she was concerned, and sad.

There was a tug at Harry's elbow. "Come on... let's go..." It was Neville. The other boy carefully led Harry down the steps from the platform, where Ginny immediately stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist. The two of them, Neville and Ginny, steered Harry out of the Hall. They were followed by the other members of the Gryffindor six. As they walked, the people around them backed away, as if they were frightened of something. Harry didn't have a clue what was going on, and no one answered any of his questions until they all were safely ensconced in the Gryffindor common room.

Ginny sat on the long couch and pulled Harry down to lie with his head in her lap. The look of concern never left her face as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. Neville pulled four padded chairs over, allowing the six of them to sit facing each other. There was no sound for the longest time, other than Ginny's gently "shushing" of Harry. But finally, it was Luna who spoke.

"So... a Parselmouth," she said. "That will certainly go a long way in ending the speculation that he's the Heir of Slytherin." Her voice was completely free of irony, but everyone felt it. Ron even let out a small laugh before quickly silencing himself.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Neville asked.

Harry was still confused. "Tell you what?"

"That you were a Parselmouth, of course!" Hermione interjected. "Why didn't you say anything to anyone?"

"Wait... I thought you knew... I'm sure I told you..." Harry turned on the couch, giving Ginny access to the other side of his head.

"I knew, of course. I don't think the rest of them did, love," Ginny said. Harry just nodded.

"Everyone's going to think you were trying to get the snake to attack Justin, you know. After all, only Dark Wizards are Parselmouths, and there's no reason a Dark Wizard would command a snake to stop attacking..." Ron mused.

"I told it to stop and leave him alone, I swear," Harry muttered. His eyes were beginning to droop.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, well... we'll see." He stood abruptly and stretched. "I'm going to bed. Night all."

"I swear... I tol' it t'stop," Harry muttered. The adrenalin was leaving his system, and with its loss his body was beginning to go into shut-down mode.

"We know, Harry," Luna assured him. Harry nodded vaguely, and within moments was asleep on Ginny's lap. She made no move to disturb or dislodge him, but rather turned her attention back to her three friends.

She kept her voice low, so as to not disturb her husband. "So... what are we going to do about this? The entire school is afraid of him now." Ginny sighed deeply. "Did you know that Harry was almost sorted into Slytherin?"

There were shocked looks all around. "Harry's the ultimate Gryffindor! How could the Hat have ever considered him in Slytherin House?"

Ginny shrugged. "Harry's relatives have spent his entire life telling him he's useless and a burden. Harry desperately wants to prove that he's not worthless... he wants to show that he's worth something. That's ambition... and Slytherin is about cunning and ambition, no matter how many times Ron says it's about evil and ruthlessness."

"I think we can downplay this," Neville said. "Harry can go to Justin and explain what happened to him, personally. We'll help him out... I'm sure Justin won't be as skittish if we approach him at breakfast or something and explain that Harry was trying to help him rather than hurt him."

Hermione had been quiet during the entire discussion. "It has never made sense to me why some magical gifts are considered Dark and others are considered not Dark. It seems like just another silly superstition," Hermione said finally. She glanced at Luna, smiled, and added, "Like thinking that a Snorkack can be held off by tying a bundle of asparagus in your window, when it's a proven fact that they are repulsed by bananas." At the sound of everyone's laughter, Harry stirred. They immediately stopped, hoping to let him sleep. When he didn't wake, they went back to smiling at each other.

Neville coughed quietly and said, "The longer you hang around Luna, the more she rubs off on you, Hermione."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" At Hermione's raised eyebrow, Neville blushed.

XxxxxxX

Unfortunately, finding Justin Finch-Fletchley the next morning proved more difficult than they expected. During the night, a light snowfall had turned into a raging blizzard, and as a result, Herbology classes were canceled. The six wandered the castle, looking for the boy, but every time they thought they were getting close, someone other Hufflepuff would intercede. Apparently word had spread that Harry was looking for Justin, and word was that it was for no good purpose. After hours of fruitless searching, five of the six had encamped in the library. Ron, as usual, had expressed an allergy to books and left to find some other amusement.

Surprisingly, it was Luna who initially began the discussion about Gryffindor's Quidditch practices. It was her intention to attend every one, and wanted Hermione and Neville to go with her. It was, in her own words, "A good way to show House spirit in a way that doesn't require you to be a nearly-decapitated ghost!" The solemn expression on Luna's face when she said this had made Hermione giggle, something that she wasn't in the habit of doing, regularly. While she had been exasperated by the blonde girl in the beginning, Hermione had to admit that, as time went on, Luna had grown on her. And when Luna smiled at her, she felt a warm flush in her face and an odd stirring in her middle she wasn't really sure about. It was enough, however, to make Hermione want to be around Luna as much as possible.

"All right... I'll go watch the practices with you," Hermione said at last. "As long as I get to bring a book to read in case I get too bored."

"Of course... I would no more separate you from your books than you would separate a moon frog from its spots." Luna leaned in and gave Hermione a quick hug.

"Well, we'll have to ask Wood, of course... I don't know how keen he'll be on people watching the practices. He'll probably think you're spying for Slytherin or something." Ginny chuckled.

"I'll just have to come with you, then. He can't think someone who tried out for the team is a spy, can he?" Neville asked. He looked at Hermione and smiled, causing her to blush. She had found that, when she was around the boy, there was a strange intensity in the air that was very interesting and different. The same warm flush happened to her when she looked into Neville's eyes as when Luna smiled at her, and the stirring returned.

"Wood's a bit of a nutter when it comes to Quidditch," Harry added. "Speaking of, Ginny and I need to go and talk to him... he wants to talk to all the players about Ron missing practices. He's thinking about dropping Ron from the roster and I want to talk him out of it." Harry held a hand out for Ginny and the pair left the library.

The mention of Ron caused Hermione to suddenly feel sad for some reason. She wasn't sure what was going on with the boy, but she could feel their relationship slowly falling apart. Ron was the second person at Hogwarts to befriend her, and the thought of his drifting away caused a lump to form in her throat.

Something of her feelings must have shown, because she soon found her left hand being grasped by Luna, and her right by Neville. Hermione looked to both of her friends and smiled at the warmth of their friendship.

"Everything all right?" Neville asked.

Hermione nodded. "Just thinking... I just..." She found she couldn't explain it clearly.

"Was it a scary thought, or a sad thought?" Luna gave her hand a squeeze. "My mother always said that the two worst kind of thoughts... the ones that make you cry most often... are scary thoughts and sad thoughts. She also told me the best way to fight them off was peppermint ice cream." There was a pause, during which Luna leaned forward to look at Neville. "Neville, do you have any peppermint ice cream?"

"Sorry... I don't think I do..." Neville said with a laugh.

"Oh." Luna's face fell. The blonde girl turned to Hermione, and for the first time ever, her friends saw a frown on Luna's face. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but we seem to be out of peppermint ice cream. Would you like it if Neville were to give you a hug? Perhaps you might like him to give you a kiss on the forehead, as well?" Hermione just gaped, while Neville began to sputter, and it was enough to give Luna a case of the giggles.

Hermione glared at the girl, and then giggled herself. She straightened up and smiled at Neville. "Go on then..."

"What?" Neville gasped. He blushed as Hermione's eyes met his, but he didn't look away. With exaggerated care, the boy leaned forward and hugged her, an act that was gratefully returned. He straightened up, swallowed visibly, and then leaned forward to give her a quick buss on the forehead.

It wasn't a very gentle kiss, or a very long one, and resulted in Hermione's eyes being abruptly covered by a wave of her own hair. Hermione pushed her hand through her hair, moving it away from her face. Controlling her thick locks was a never-ending battle that she often had no hope of winning. "Why thank you, kind sir!" she said. Neville beamed at Hermione as she ran her hand through her hair again. "I should just cut this short. Perhaps get it taken up above my ears."

She stopped when she saw Neville's face. "What? What did I say?"

"Cut your hair short? Hermione... that's... only women who..." Neville blushed, unable to continue. "You have to have long hair, Hermione... people will... they'll think things about you if you have short hair. Bad things... like you're a woman with no manners... uncouth, or something." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Bar-maids... and... and... ladies of easy virtue..."

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione was shocked and outraged. In all her research on the Wizarding world before coming to Hogwarts, this was the first she'd heard of any sartorial customs. She knew there were parts that still would be considered Victorian, but this was ridiculous. She gave Luna the eye, but the blonde girl merely shrugged and fluffed out her own hair... which Hermione suddenly noticed hung almost to the middle of Luna's back.

"Well, yeah... haven't you ever wondered why all the girls have long hair? The only girl with short hair I know of is Lydia Danforth... you know, the sixth year Slytherin girl? And..." Neville leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered. "... I heard that she has a tattoo on her leg."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh my, a tattoo... what will ever become of her?"

Neville missed the irony and nodded. "I know, right? It's because..."

Before he could say anything else, a shadow fell over the trio. "Longbottom! We need a word..." The three friends turned as one. Daphne Greengrass and Guy Beaumont were standing over their table, looking nervous and impatient.

The silence that followed could have been cut by a knife. The two Slytherin students fidgeted a moment. "Er... Hello, Granger. Er... Lovegood." It was Daphne Greengrass who spoke. "Longbottom... Neville... We need to discuss this 'Heir of Slytherin' thing with you. Can you spare a moment?"

Neville stood, casting a nervous glance toward Hermione and Luna, and faced the Slytherins. "Do you want to talk to just me, or to all three of us? Because I'm not sure I want to go off alone with a pair of Slytherins right now... I know how you all feel about Harry, especially what with everything that's going on..."

"Is that so? Think we're going to slice you into gobbets or something, do you, now?" Guy Beaumont said. His face was carefully expressionless, but his eyes glittered. He was about to say something else when Daphne held up a hand. Instead of speaking, Beaumont closed his mouth and stood silent.

"Neville..." she said after a moment. "Do all people in Gryffindor feel the same way about everything? No? Then why should all Slytherin? We just want to talk about what's going on." She smiled at him. "If you can't trust a childhood playmate, who can you trust, Nev..."

Neville thought about it and nodded. "Of course we don't all feel the same way, and you're right... we've known each other since we were what... three? If I can't trust you when you ask me to trust you... Come on, sit... " Neville gestured to the empty chairs at the table, and the new arrivals carefully slid into them. For a moment, everyone sat in awkward silence as everyone thought about what they wanted to say.

After several minutes, Neville couldn't stand it any longer. "So, Daphne... we're all here. What's going on?" he asked.

"Well, as I am sure you're aware, whoever killed the Caretaker and the Muggle boy left a message."

"We know," Hermione interrupted. "'The Chamber has been opened. Enemies of the Heir Beware'. We figure it refers to the Heir of Slytherin. His enemies would be the Muggle-born here at the school and elsewhere."

Daphne studied Hermione carefully before nodding. "That's what we thought as well. My question, though, is... would you have any idea who the Heir might be?"

XxxxxxX

Later that evening, a lone person sped through the castle's halls as quickly as he dared, given the lack of visibility. As he rushed back toward the Hufflepuff dorms, Justin Finch-Fletchley couldn't shake the creepy feeling. The castle, so warm and inviting when he started school last year, had become somehow cold and scary. He knew it was probably only his imagination, but it seemed as if the shadows were conspiring to creep closer and closer to him.

He hadn't meant to be out so late... just a quick jaunt up to the owlery and back just before curfew. But the ruddy school bird wouldn't cooperate, and kept jumping around. It had taken him a full twenty minutes to get his letter to his parents tied to the stupid bird's leg, and then another two minutes just to shoo it out the window. Next year, I'm going to have my own owl if it kills me! It was only now, as he raced as quickly as he could through the shadowy corridors of the castle, that he wished he'd phrased his promise to himself differently.

He rounded a corner without looking and yelled as he almost ran into someone coming the other way. The other person was nothing but a shadowy figure in the darkness, and Justin was so surprised he skidded on the corridor's cobblestones and landed on his rear. As he scrabbled backward, he jabbed his wand toward the shadow-covered person in near panic. "Lu-lu-mos. Lumos!" he finally managed to say.

The tip of his wand exploded into bright, blue-white light, revealing a face he recognized. Justin put a hand to his chest and tried to slow his breathing. "Oh... it's just you... you're Weasley, right?"

"That's right. I'm Weasley. You're Justin Finch-Fletchley." Ron nodded as he stepped forward, out of the shadows and gave a hand pulling the other boy to his feet. "Let me give you a hand up."

"Thanks... I appreciate it. I got caught in the owlery and missed curfew." Justin waited expectantly as his unspoken question hung in the air.

Ron's eyes suddenly widened, as he suddenly realized he needed to provide a response. "Oh... I... er... I was sneaking back from the kitchens..." The redhead shrugged. "If you ask nicely, the House Elves will give you extra desserts, and I was hungry, you see, so..."

Justin relaxed immediately. "That's brilliant... I don't even know where the entrance to the kitchens is located. Maybe you can show me some time." He looked around, making sure no prefect or teacher was approaching. "I suppose I'm just jumpy. I mean, who could possibly have expected Potter to be the Heir of Slytherin, yeah?"

Ron smiled at Justin, causing the Muggle-born boy to shiver unaccountably. The smile scared him for some reason. "Funny you should mention the Heir of Slytherin..."