Thicker Than Water: Year Six

Chapter 20 - Riding the Waves

Harry's eyes snapped open as the sound of a man whispering in a loud, deep voice penetrated the fog of his sleep. He stared up and around him, momentarily disconcerted at waking up in a strange room. The sound of Luna's voice replying to the man brought Harry to his senses. He quickly reached for the pants he had dropped on the floor beside the sofa, and pulled them on beneath the comforter before getting up.

"Er... good morning," he said, a hand automatically flying up to tame his wild morning hair. The brief sight of his dark hand and the feel of his perfectly-arrayed curls reminded him that Leo never woke up with dark hair sticking out at odd angles.

Luna and her father were standing in the entrance to the small kitchen that opened onto the living room, where he had slept. Mr. Lovegood was a large man, his tall frame amply padded. His thick, brown hair curled slightly over his ears and continued into a thick moustache and beard; his brown eyes flashed with interest from behind round frames as he turned to survey his daughter's boyfriend.

"Good morning - Leo, is it? I hope we didn't wake you. Luna was just telling me that you got in quite late yesterday evening," said Mr. Lovegood, extending a hand to Harry while looking him up and down. Harry shook his hand nervously. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Luna was wrapped in a blue terry dressing gown, and tried not to think of the white nightie she wore underneath it.

His eyes flickered back to Mr. Lovegood, and he said awkwardly, "Yeah, we were up pretty late. Thanks for letting me stay here last night. The Weasleys just didn't have enough room for us all."

Apparently satisfied with the look of him, Mr. Lovegood turned away from Harry and asked Luna if she wanted him to fix some breakfast. Luna promptly volunteered to make it and Harry, after pulling on his robe, joined her.

Luna proved to be somewhat inept in the kitchen. She was used to making coffee and had no problem skinning a mango, but Harry quickly took over with the meal preparation. Many years of serving the Dursleys made him at home in a kitchen, and he went rummaging through the cupboard and fridge, looking for bread and bacon. There was no bacon, so he set about scrambling eggs and popping eight pieces of bread into the magically expanded toaster.

After setting the table, Mr. Lovegood graciously accepted a mug of coffee from his daughter, watching the two teens as they worked. He asked Luna if Professor Dumbledore had any luck with her mother's notebooks. Luna replied, "Yes, he found what he was looking for, and created an incantation that we used when the baby was born yesterday."

Harry wasn't sure how much Mr. Lovegood had been told, and so he didn't say anything as he served the eggs and toast. When they were all seated and eating, Luna's father began to ask questions about Leo's courses at Hogwarts, his career aspirations after school, and what extracurricular activities he engaged in. Harry self-consciously answered his questions, at the same remaining vague about his life outside of Hogwarts. When Harry said he wasn't yet sure what he'd do after school, Mr. Lovegood talked at length about how much pleasure he had had working as a field journalist in the early years of his career.

Mr. Lovegood was surprisingly soft-spoken for a man with a naturally loud and resonating voice. By the end of breakfast, Harry had relaxed somewhat and listened attentively as Luna's father told him about an article he was researching: newly unearthed evidence of extraterrestrial contact with the magical community preceding the start of the Renaissance. Harry was nonetheless relieved when the street buzzer sounded, and the Weasleys called up that they were waiting for Harry and Luna.

They bade farewell to Luna's father, Luna giving the bear of a man a big hug and kiss, Harry shaking hands more formally. As they turned to leave, Mr. Lovegood clapped Leo on the shoulder and entreated him to come visit again. "Luna's written very good things about you! It's nice to see that she's associating with such a polite young man."

Harry couldn't make it down the stairs quickly enough. When he emerged at street level, Ron caught his facial expression, and turned to hide a smirk from the rest of the company. They trekked noisily back to Bill and Fleur's flat, and found the proud new parents bleary-eyed and tired after their first night with baby.

Claude Wendell Weasley, however, was fast asleep, and Bill and Fleur hinted that they were going to try to catch a bit more shut-eye that morning. Grandmaman Yvellan, on the other hand, looked youthfully refreshed after a good night's sleep. Apparently, her invaluable support and assistance during the pregnancy and birth didn't extend to nights up with a newborn. The old Veela's smile and incomprehensible French chatter set Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Harry on edge; for a moment, Harry was revisited with some of the same feelings that had overwhelmed him the night before.

After a quarter of an hour - with Bill yawning loudly, and even Fleur not up to her usual charming standards - Mr. Weasley led the teens back out into the chilly greyness of Diagon Alley to meet his wife. Mrs. Weasley had been to Bill and Fleur's flat earlier, and had left to purchase some essential baby supplies for the couple. They met up with her at Chudley's Children's Wear where, much to Ron's disappointment, a respectable array of sensible rompers on display looked nothing like the bright orange Quidditch kinder-robes Ron had been expecting.

Hermione and Ginny had been whispering amongst themselves for several minutes, and asked Mr. Weasley's permission to go off shopping on their own for a while. They invited Luna to join them, but she preferred to stay with Harry, so the other two girls sauntered off. When Ron made to follow them, Ginny pushed him back and said, "Why don't you take the opportunity to spend some time with Leo?"

Ron looked decidedly put out as his girlfriend and sister made a quick escape. He lamented loudly, "Why am I always being left behind?!"

Holding on tightly to Luna's hand, Harry snorted at his best friend. "It's not like you don't have a birthday coming up, you dolt!"

Seeing that Mr. Weasley had entered an apothecary shop and left them alone, Harry leaned in towards Luna and tried to steal a kiss. Ron snorted back at them, "Get a room, you two!"

"What, aren't you getting enough of these from Hermione? Jealous, are you?" Harry said, extricating himself from Luna's lips. He hadn't meant it as a jibe - after all, Ron and Hermione disappeared often enough, and seemed as close as ever - but Ron's face twisted into a small grimace anyway. In a sudden moment of clarity, Harry realised that Ron was jealous: he envied Luna all the time she spent with Harry, time Ron hadn't really spent with his friend throughout all of their sixth year.

Harry made a mental note to try to get more time alone with his best mate, to patch things up after their rocky first term at school. But Luna's scent interrupted the thought, and Harry immediately launched into his best imitation of a vampire. Luna laughed at him, then drifted away mid-nibble to peer dreamily into the barrels near the entrance to the apothecary. Ron's eyes followed her with a bemused look on his face, shaking his head slightly.

The others all soon returned, and Mr. Weasley insisted that they had to get back to Hogwarts before lunch. Harry was disappointed that they would be returning to school so soon, but Ron and Ginny both looking forward to their Quidditch practice that afternoon. Hermione said she wanted to get to the library to look up some things about Veela magic and the blood protection they had performed the previous day; she also confided quietly to Harry that she had begun to brew his Revellius potion in the last stall of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and would have to add more ingredients that afternoon.

Harry begged for a visit to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes before they left. The twins were glad to see them, slipping both Harry and Ron generous packages when Mr. Weasley wasn't looking.

All too soon, they had to leave the shop and make their way to back to the Leaky Cauldron. Mr. Weasley purchased a small bag of floo powder from Tom, the innkeeper, and they spun through the warm, green flames back to a public portal in Hogsmeade. Mr. Weasley walked them back to the Hogwarts gates, but he didn't enter the school grounds with the teens.

Halfway up to the castle's great doors, Harry turned around for a last look at the man: the tall, balding redhead had turned away from the gates and begun walking back towards the village. His shoulders were squared against a chilly breeze in the folds of his old robes. Harry felt a wave of affection for the Weasley patriarch, who had warmly accepted him as one of the boys and looked out for him, even agreeing to the use of his daughter's and grandson's blood to protect Harry.

He considered himself lucky for the unconditional love he received from the whole Weasley family. Sighing deeply as Mr. Weasley disappeared into the distance, Harry turned back towards the school: back to the life of Leo, an impostor and a marked man, biding his time until the inevitable battle took place.

*

Harry now entered what Hermione later called his "manic" phase. The new blood protection caused surges of energy, which disrupted Harry's ability to concentrate in classes.

One day, to let off steam, Harry jogged around the lake between Herbology and Defence classes; he was winded, but significantly calmer, when he arrived in the Defence classroom. After that, he got into the habit of running routinely, which helped keep his energy swings in control and his mind on his studies. His body screamed for the vigorous regimens of Oliver Wood's Quidditch training-sessions, but prudence didn't even allow him to get on a broomstick while at school.

Though the surges disrupted Harry in classes, it was nothing to the havoc it wreaked on his libido. As the week following Valentine's Day progressed, Harry found he couldn't even get close to Luna without becoming overly excited. She took it in stride, responding warmly to Harry's passionate kisses, but keeping him firmly at bay when his hands began to wander excessively, or tried to get under her robes.

If the blood surges were his "highs", the images of Sirius in the mirror brought Harry crashing to some mighty lows. He would sit staring absently into the Gryffindor fireplace for hours, fingering the hand-held mirror he carried around in his robe pockets. At such times, he resisted his friends' attempts to draw him into conversation. At her wit's end, Hermione resorted to leaving Gryffindor Tower in search of Luna. Oftentimes, the seemingly spacey girl was already on her way to look for Harry; the mood-pendants always let her know when he was in the doldrums and needed serious cheering up

Luna's astute readings of Harry's feelings appeared to impress Hermione, and she had grudgingly warmed to the younger girl. Ron, on the other hand, kept mum about Harry's relationship, and Harry had no clue whether he approved of Luna or not.

When Harry was in the common room, Hermione tried to distract him with revision timetables, though they hadn't even come close to Easter vacation, and exams were ages away. She also filled him in on gossip and stories from the first semester of school, with Ron's help.

Ron had gone into the Forbidden Forest in October with Hagrid and Hermione, to meet Grawp. The giant had made great strides over the summer in the manners department, and offered them food during their visit.

"Merlin's beard, he caught a rabbit right off the forest floor; he pulled a huge branch off a tree and whacked several times. Then, he tried to make me and Hermione eat it!" said Ron, a look of revulsion on his face as he recounted the meeting. "When we said we weren't hungry, he started to gnaw on it himself! Raw! It was so disgusting, I couldn't eat anything for hours afterwards!"

Harry chuckled at the thought that something had actually interfered with Ron's appetite. At six-foot-two, Ron stood shoulder to shoulder with Bill - previously the tallest Weasley - and, by the way he ate, probably still had some growing left in him.

Harry, who obviously hadn't seen much of Hagrid outside of classes, said, "I wondered if Grawp had left - Hagrid's been looking his normal self, and I thought maybe he finally realised the forest's no place for a giant."

"On the contrary," moaned Hermione, "Hagrid's talking about finding a girlfriend for Grawp. He's hoping Dumbledore will convince the Ministry that it's a good idea to re-establish a giant community in England, and formally invite back the ones who aren't in league with Voldemort."

Ron widened his eyes in awed alarm as Harry shook his head. No amount of danger would ever convince their big friend that some magical creatures just didn't make good pets or neighbours.

Hermione then lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. "Hagrid told me last week the centaurs are making trouble in the Forbidden Forest! They even shot at Grawp recently, when he wandered too close to their territory. Apparently, Grawp injured a couple of centaurs in that attack, but Hagrid keeps saying they deserved it! They're now clamouring for his and Grawp's blood; if he isn't careful, we could end up with a war on the grounds that has nothing to do with Voldemort! The forest is no place for Grawp at a time like this."

Hearing that news, it took all of Harry's restraint not to head straight out to Hagrid's cabin. Ron promised he would go and try to talk sense to the half-giant, and Hermione reluctantly agreed to join him.

*

The week following the reinstatement of the blood protection found Harry particularly jittery as his hormones swung in great fluxes. The Thursday morning of his training with Bill, Harry was relieved when Neville apologetically said he'd have to come late; a new batch of Mandrakes were ready to re-pot, and he had promised to help Professor Sprout with the job. That would give Harry some time to talk privately to Bill.

The redhead was already waiting in the Room of Requirement when Harry got there. He uttered a "Colloportus" to seal the door behind Harry, then peeled off his robe in preparation for duelling. Bill chattered on a bit about Claude - Harry smiled, thinking that Fleur had won the battle over the baby's name - then asked Harry how everything was going with him.

Harry was glad Bill had asked, but didn't really know how to broach the subject. He shrugged and mumbled, "Okay, I guess. It's been kind of weird."

"Are you okay?" Bill asked sharply, wheeling around to face the boy with concern. "Have you had any problems or side effects after last weekend? No problems with your Occlumency, I hope?"

Shaking his head, Harry just muttered quietly, "No, nothing like that. It's just... I've been really horny lately..."

Bill, who had leaned in trying to catch his words, drew back abruptly and said in a serious tone, "Oh, I see."

"Excuse me," Bill continued after a momentary pause. He turned to the class door, removed the seal, and stepped out into the hall. The moment he was out of sight, Harry heard Bill release a howl of laughter; it went on for some minutes, finally dying down into amused hiccups. Bill re-entered the room, trying hard - and failing miserably - to school his expression into a sympathetic one.

"Are you through with the entertainment?" asked Harry irritable, flushing with embarrassment.

Bill cracked into more amused chortles, and said, "I'm taking you seriously. Really!"

Harry didn't look too convinced, so he went on to say, "Trust me, I've been on the receiving end of Veela charm - and you've just received a whole bloody load of it!"

Still laughing, Bill told Harry a bit about Veela blood magic, which imparts an element of control to a Veela or part-Veela, but is meant to ensnare the recipient. "...And you got quite the dose after Claude was born, both from my son and from Fleur! I believe Dumbledore also spoke to us about putting in a few drops of Re'em blood, to give you added strength; maybe the Veela and Re'em blood augment one another. Oh, and it's a full moon this weekend, Re'em blood is always more potent around the full moon time. Geez, I wonder what that combination would do for your virility...!"

To stop the redhead's guffaws, Harry turned and hexed him; Bill had his own wand ready, and blocked the spell, returning his own with force. Bill also began shooting a volley of advice at Harry, including how to deal with extreme frustration.

"After all, Harry, the last thing you want at your age is to get that friend of yours, Luna, in the family way..." said Bill.

"What, like you and Fleur?" Harry shot back, immediately regretting his words.

"Touché, Harry! But you forget that we're both of age, I was already dating her for nearly a year, and we were living together when Fleur got pregnant." Bill stopped duelling, and continued to talk. "I'm exactly where I want to be, Harry: I've seen the world a bit, and now I'm with this great woman, and we have this amazing son...

"Seriously, if you ever feel you're losing control, get behind the hangings of your four-poster and cast a really strong silencing charm. And you'd better be in there alone! There was this one guy in my seventh year, a Ravenclaw. Brilliant fellow, he was all set up for a great research career in the Ministry, when he got caught with his girlfriend in his dorm room. He was expelled from Hogwarts, and had to finish his studies in private tutorials. They didn't accept him at the Ministry after that. Last I heard, he was smuggling flying-carpets into Britain..."

Harry had paused to contemplate what Bill was saying. While he was still thinking, Bill hurtled a jinx his way, and the duel resumed. It wasn't long before they heard a sound at the door, and Harry expected Neville was entering behind him. They duelled for another thirty seconds before Bill called a time out to greet the other sixth year.

To their great surprise, though, it wasn't Neville who had sauntered in and was walking nonchalantly towards the centre of the room. Grizzled, leonine hair, a worn but shrewd face, in came the limping form of Professor Panthera, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

He nodded approvingly at Harry and Bill, though Harry had expected an immediate telling off; the last time he had been caught duelling by a teacher, he and Neville had levelled Panthera's classroom. The old Defence teacher wouldn't know that his training session with Bill had been long sanctioned by the Headmaster.

Instead, Panthera approached Harry, and pointed at his wand. "That's not the same wand you use in your classes, is it, Mr. Evangy?"

"Er, no sir, it isn't," said Harry, throwing Bill an oblique glance but obligingly allowed Panthera to study his wand. "It's an old one I used at school in America. My mother bought my other one when we returned, last summer."

Professor Panthera handed back his old wand and replied, "You don't appear to be too bad at casting with it. Do you have your other wand as well?"

Harry reached into his pocket and produced it. Panthera nodded approvingly and murmured, "Let's see how you do with that."

The Defence teacher quickly shot a stunner at his student. Harry didn't have a chance to put the second wand away, and just managed to shield himself in time. Panthera turned to Bill and said, "You, boy! How about giving me a hand here?"

Bill looked at him in momentary amazement, then turned towards Harry with a mischievous smile on his face. Harry was disconcerted, but again Panthera didn't wait for any questions and rapidly hexed him. With the quick responses of somebody who had come under fire before, Harry dodged and deflected. From four feet to the left, though, Bill fired another jinx at him; Harry waved his wand to cast a shield, then had to turn back to fend off assault from Panthera.

"Use your other wand, Mr. Evangy! You do have two of them in your hands!" Panthera's voice came, raspy as he called out the next, "Dermascrofula!"

Harry wasn't quite fast enough, and the spell grazed his elbow; an itchy, raised psoriatic rash broke out on his skin where it made contact. Growling in irritation, Harry shouted "Expelliarmus!" at Panthera, pointing his other wand towards Bill. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a flash of light fly from Bill's wand, and he quickly countered it.

The duel continued, Harry's blood surging in correspondence with the fight-or-flight instincts that had always served him in confrontations with Voldemort or his Death Eaters. Panthera finally signalled to Bill, and the two let up on Harry. Determined to have the last word, Harry caught Panthera with a leg-lock curse, and the professor toppled onto the ground.

"Oh, Professor, are you all right?" panted Harry, running over in concern.

In a flash, Panthera's wand was at his throat, and the older man said in an abrasive whisper, "Never show an adversary sympathy, Mr. Evangy. You can be sure he won't be returning the favour."

Bill jogged over, uttering the counter-curse to the leg-lock, and Panthera lithely pounced back to his feet. At that moment, Neville walked in and looked around at the three others in surprise.

Panthera nodded a polite acknowledgement to him, then turned back to Harry and Bill. "Carry on with your training, boys. If I were you, I'd work on that double-wand casting; you never know when it might come in handy."

And with that, the Defence teacher sauntered out of the Room of Requirement. Neville asked, "Did I miss something?"

"Only forty-five minutes of duelling," said Bill with a wry smile, still looking at the door that had closed behind Professor Panthera. "Come on, you can still get in a bit of a workout, Neville. There's also some new moves you could help Mr. Evangy here practice."

From then on, all Harry's defence training with Bill and Neville included some practice fighting them both with separate wands. The hand-eye co-ordination Harry had already mastered in his Quidditch days; the concentration required to simultaneously keep two opponents at bay was helped by the constant exertion his Occlumency required.

Harry kept hoping Professor Panthera would show up again at a Thursday morning session, but the Defence teacher never did. Even more curious, the older professor never mentioned the session again, and continued to act as though Harry's mediocre performances in Defence Against the Dark Arts classes were par for the course. Harry wondered about the mysterious professor but, as no hints were forthcoming and Panthera made no particular efforts at conversation outside of the classroom, the man remained as enigmatic as ever.

*

It had been three weeks since Harry's last visit to the Manor. The birth of Claude Wendell Weasley - as well as Remus' reconnaissance mission prior to the full moon - had disrupted the previous weekend's routine, and Harry was in dire need of his cosmetic touch-up to maintain his features.

The full moon prevented Remus from being present at the Manor the next Sunday; Harry was also victim to the waxing moon, and could feel a corresponding surge in energy veritably coursing through his veins. Sprawled out on the sofa in the Manor sitting room, Harry rode the wave of the blood-surge while Tonks put the final touches on his cosmetic touch-up.

"How is the Kingsley situation?" Harry asked the young auror.

"I haven't seen him since the opera, but he's sent a few nice letters to the private postal box address I gave him," Tonks replied, massaging more PermaCurl ointment into Harry's scalp.

Harry hesitated, the curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "Have you ever been with a man, Tonks?"

Tonks stiffened and sat up straight; she had a faraway look as a pained expression crossed her face. She finally said in a quiet voice, "Yes, Harry, once - when I was quite young."

By her tone, Harry was sorry he had asked the question. Tonks pulled herself out of a memory and, glancing sadly at Harry, continued. "If you must know, it was Sirius' younger brother, Regulus. He was dashing and charming, just like Sirius, but arrogant, with a heart of ice."

"Did you know Sirius then, too?" Harry asked.

"No, the Black family had little to do with us after my mother married a muggle. I met Regulus by chance, and we worked out that we were cousins. I was so young, so naïve; I thought he was being witty, and didn't see it coming. He really hurt me. I was only fourteen."

Harry thought he was going to be sick, and gave Tonks a horrified look. She had withdrawn into herself, and her normally sunny, heart-shaped face wore a strange mask. Reaching over distractedly, Tonks resumed curling Harry's hair around the tip of her wand. After working for a while, she continued to speak.

"Regulus was killed a couple of months later. I honed my Metamorphmagus skills to make myself ugly to boys after that. I also mastered my first human transformation at that time."

"What was that?" asked Harry, afraid to hear the answer.

Tonks smiled somewhat maliciously. "Peos Reducto, to bring a guy - or at least his organ - down a couple of notches."

Harry initially winced at the barbaric nature of the hex, but then he recounted Draco Malfoy's unwelcomed Valentines Day assault on Hannah Abbott. "I can think of someone who deserves that," he said darkly, telling Tonks all about the incident.

"Ah yes, my darling first cousin! Bad blood, that Malfoy stock! Unfortunately, my blood too, though my dear Aunt Narcissa would shudder to hear it. It was very strange, at the Ministry last June, to have both an aunt and an uncle amongst the Death Eaters we were fighting," Tonks reflected.

"Do you think you could have seriously hurt them in a fight?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Tonks answered firmly. "If it would have saved Sirius, I probably could have killed them both. I became an auror to stop such people from taking their distorted notions of the world and using them to wreak havoc and create misery in society - both wizarding and otherwise."

"Can you teach me how to do the Avada Kedavra curse?" Harry asked nervously.

Tonks shook her head and surveyed Harry with sadness before replying, "I've never performed that one. We are taught other ways of freezing or maiming an opponent with the intent of stopping him. It takes a cruel enjoyment of pain to perform the Cruciatus curse; likewise, Avada Kedavra can only be performed by somebody who has a love of killing. Or - maybe not a love per se - but certainly a very strong desire, be it for personal gain or the attainment of power. I've chosen not to learn those two curses in my training."

Harry sat lost in thought, remembering how he had failed miserably when he tried to perform the Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix Lestrange. A nagging voice in his head kept asking, but if you can't perform the killing curse, how are you supposed to stop Voldemort?

Tonks interrupted his reverie with a sympathetic pat on his knee and a malicious grin. "I can show you the Peos Reducto transformation, just in case you see your nemesis - or anyone else, for that matter - harassing a girl again."

Tonks conjured a small statue of Michelangelo's David, and performed an engorgement charm for the lesson. The spell was more difficult than Harry had anticipated. Tonks explained that it was generally harder for wizards to perform than for witches, as they tended to flinch when it came time to cast. The auror had many opportunities to laugh at Harry's discomfort as try after try went awry due to his embarrassment or a shaky hand.

Glad that Remus wasn't around, Harry tried to concentrate on the charm, and was finally able to make a difference on the statue. All the effort and Tonks' amused ribbing at least had the effect of distracting Harry from the impossible task that preyed on his mind: that of fulfilling the prophecy, and destroying Lord Voldemort forever.

*

A Hogsmeade weekend rolled around, coinciding perfectly with Ron's birthday. Harry gave his friend a disc with the latest music by Warlocks' Wisdom. Peeves gave the redhead a bottle of dark ink in his hair. When Ron finally got the last of it washed out, he, Hermione, Harry and Luna walked into Hogsmeade together. Ginny had left them earlier, in the Entrance Hall, and was seen walking ahead with Dean Thomas.

When they got to the village, Hermione began hinting to Ron that he might like to see the Shrieking Shack again.

"Why? I've seen that loads of times already! We could go to Zonko's instead," he answered. Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed loudly, before taking his hand and bodily dragging him off towards the far end of the village anyway.

Luna and Harry wandered aimlessly around the town, stopping briefly to peer into one window or another. They spent a bit of time at the post office, where Luna was fascinated by the many rows of owls. "You're not thinking of getting one of your own, are you?" asked Harry.

"No, I don't really think I want a pet at this point in my life. Though if I did, I'd probably get a nice kneazle like Hermione's," Luna answered.

"Crookshanks is a cat!" protested Harry. Luna just looked at him with a certain gravity, then turned her attention back to the owls.

At some point in the afternoon, they walked past Madame Puddifoot's and Luna glanced over at the couples emerging from within.

"Er... you don't want to go in there, do you?" asked Harry with growing concern that she might say yes.

Luna just lifted her nose, and said in a superior tone, "She doesn't sell any good herbal teas there, and none of her coffee's fair trade - imagine actually spending our money there!"

Harry was somewhat puzzled by her answer, but relieved that he wouldn't have to go in to the site of last year's failed date with Cho. In fact, the more Harry thought about Cho - her comments about Roger Davies, the giggling girls she hung out with, the mounds of emotional baggage - the better he appreciated Luna. The fifth-year Ravenclaw had a quiet demeanour, a misleading quirkiness that hid a quick intelligence, and a sensitivity to others that the seventh-year girl just hadn't possessed.

A rush of love and gratitude for Luna rose through Harry, and he reached up to comb her long, dirty-blond hair with his fingers. Luna's direct gaze was calm and penetrating, but it was her parted lips that drove Harry crazy. He leaned in to her, crushing her lips with his, tasting her like a citrus blossom in spring. Luna responded, pressing her fingers into the small of his back and moving them up in a gentle caress. Harry took a long draught of her, forgetting that they were standing in the middle of the lane.

He let go, and staggered back dizzily with excitement. Suddenly aware of the curious stares they were attracting, Harry drew Luna down the road, saying, "Let's go somewhere else."

As Harry and Luna turned a corner, they came upon a sight that made Harry jerk to a halt. He quickly grabbed Luna's arm and pulled her into a crevice where two buildings met. At the end of the otherwise deserted alley stood Malfoy, his sleek blond hair a dead giveaway. Next to him stood a slim witch, her raised hood obscuring her face.

The distance was great enough so that Harry could not hear what the two were saying. The witch was gesticulating rapidly as she spoke, and the wafts of her voice that reached their ears sounded angry. Malfoy remained unperturbed, nodding patiently throughout the dialogue, only seldom replying. Finally, the woman reached into her cloak, producing a small, wrapped package which she thrust at Malfoy. To Harry's surprise, she then threw her arms around the blond boy before pulling away and hurrying towards the alleyway's entrance.

Harry pulled Luna farther into the shadows between the buildings, wishing he had his invisibility cloak. As she passed them, the light from the brighter street momentarily illuminated the witch's features. Harry caught a glimpse of Narcissa Malfoy before she lowered her head, pulling her hood further down over her face.

A full thirty seconds passed before Malfoy sauntered out, a smug look on his pale face. At the junction with the main road, he snapped his fingers. In a moment, his lapdog, Vincent Crabbe, lumbered over and the two walked away. When Harry was sure they had moved along, he and Luna emerged from their hiding spot.

"What was that all about?" Luna asked, drawing Harry's attention away from the street.

"Wish I knew!" Harry muttered darkly. "I'm sure that little ferret is up to something!"

Dropping Luna's hand, Harry paced to the back of the alleyway, searching fruitlessly for a clue. When he returned, Luna asked in a dreamy voice, "You don't really like Draco much, do you?"

Harry exhaled sharply at the understatement. Though Luna had a way of keeping him calm and warming him up at the same time, she was not Ron or Hermione. He wished his two friends were with them at the moment. Hermione would be sure to come up with a good theory about the meeting he had just witnessed, while Ron would surely share his sentiments about what a git Malfoy was. They had both shared his historical dislike of the blond Slytherin, and would undoubtedly share his concern at Malfoy's suspicious behaviour.

At least he was on speaking terms with his friends this semester, though Ron tended to hang back in conversations. Harry turned abruptly to Luna and asked, "Would you mind if we head towards the Shrieking Shack? I'd like to find Hermione and Ron, I need to talk to them!"

Luna smiled pleasantly and replied, "Sure, no problem. If you'd like to go alone, I don't mind. There are some books I need to order in the village, and if there's anything you don't want me to hear..."

"Of course not! Please come with me, I'll explain," Harry said, leading the way back through the village. He was momentarily reminded of Cho's reaction on Valentine's Day last year, when he had told her he needed to meet Hermione. Fortunately. Luna was neither insecure nor possessive of his time, and Harry valued her the more for it.

Ron and Hermione weren't at the Shrieking Shack, nor at Honeydukes or the Three Broomsticks. Concerned by Malfoy's covert meeting with his mother, Harry led Luna back to Hogwarts an hour earlier than need be. She followed him up to Gryffindor Tower and in through the concealed portrait-hole. Ron and Hermione were indeed there, sitting in their favourite chairs near the fireplace. The common room was almost deserted, excepting a small group of second years at the far end of the room.

Ron waved them over with a flush of excitement. "Look at the awesome birthday gift Hermione got for me! I'm sure I can make team captain with this!"

On the table in front of him was a large globe with a miniature, fully functional Quidditch team inside it. When Ron pointed his wand at one of the tiny players and gave a directive, it would follow through as though playing a real game of Quidditch. Or he would tell the whole minute team to try a series of moves, and watch the outcome. Hermione sat watching with evident amusement as the Lilliputian seeker dove in response to Ron's command, "Wronski feint!"

Harry sat engrossed for a couple of minutes, watching Ron direct the action on the pint-sized pitch. Then, remembering why he had hurried back, he related his sighting of Malfoy and mommy in a low, urgent voice.

His friends' responses were not unexpected. "Evil git! They're probably plotting to bust Lucius out of Azkaban!" said Ron, looking up from the Quidditch globe.

"They didn't see you, did they?" asked Hermione in alarm. "I mean, the last thing you want to do is draw Malfoy's attention to Leo. Maybe you should go and tell Professor Dumbledore what happened!"

"That's the problem, Hermione: nothing actually happened. What am I going to report - that a Hogwarts student met his mother in Hogsmeade? How's that going to sound? I didn't actually hear what they said, we weren't close enough."

"It was a bit suspicious, you know," agreed Luna, watching Ron set up an offensive formation on the pitch. She interrupted it with her own wand, directing the diminutive chasers to perform synchronized sloth-grip rolls. Ron didn't look very amused.

"You might not have caught him doing anything wrong," said Hermione, "but I, for one, am going to keep a close eye on Malfoy. He's been too quiet lately, and that isn't like him at all!"

Harry nodded in agreement, watching the bizarre interplay between Ron's meticulous Quidditch tactics and the sudden ballet-movements the tiny Quidditch players made, at Luna's prodding.

He said, "I'm sure that Malfoy's up to no good, I just don't know what it is. But I suppose, with him, it's all just a matter of time anyway."

Harry sat musing long and hard about the kind of trouble Malfoy could cause if he put his head to it. Meanwhile, the room filled up with students returning from Hogsmeade, and a crowd formed to look at Ron's new present. Harry roused himself when Luna said it was time for her to go. He walked her back to Ravenclaw house, relieved to be out of the common room where all his housemates seemed so carefree and oblivious to the continued threat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.