Someday, I will own something of great importance. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns that.

Mixed Emotions

It was a matter of hours until the school was buzzing with rumors about what had happened that night. Ryua had no idea how the Hufflepuffs learned about it, but they were speculating just as much as the Gryffindors or Ravenclaws about what had happened. By the next morning, Ginny and Neville were bombarded with questions by everyone in the Great Hall. Except for the Slytherins, of course, who for the most part sat sullenly along their table. The Daily Prophet articles had been charmed into numerous copies by now, and certain Slytherin students were not having a good day of it.

Crabbe and Goyle were blissfully too dim to really recognize what was being said about them, but to the Malfoys, Terry Boot, Dolohov's nephew, the array of Black and Lestrange cousins… it was a somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere.

And oddly enough, with Umbridge out of the way, it only made it worse. All the Educational Decrees went right out the window with Dumbledore's return, so students and teachers were free to discuss what they would with whoever it suited them.

Even Ryua was starting to reach a breaking point, by the eighth group of snobby little 'goodies'. "Always knew you were a bad lot, Malfoy," "Serves you right, all the stuff your family did," "Too bad they didn't get you too," "Now your daddy's gone, what're you going to do?" "Hah, yeah! Hope your mother's got some good favors, or you're all going to Azkaban…"

The last point snapped her. Ryua spun around, not even bothering with her wand, and shoved the little brat up against the wall, his feet kicking three inches off the ground. Quidditch training had given Ryua the muscles to lift the boy clear above her own shoulders, and raw fury only lent her strength. "Listen to me, little man, and listen very well. Say what you will about my father, my ancestors, and me. But keep your filthy little mudblood mouth off of my dead, innocent mother, or I swear I'll be landing myself in Azkaban!" Her wand, which had been in her robes until this point, dug up under his ribs, leaving no doubt in his mind as to the reason for her imminent imprisonment.

No one moved for a good minute. Draco, rather shocked at her violent outburst, managed to recover and touch her shoulder. She twitched, glaring back over her shoulder at him, but did lower the boy to the ground. The group of would-be tormenters scattered like mice faced with a hungry alley cat, leaving just the twins and the ever present Crabbe and Goyle. He swallowed, gingerly removing his hand. "You know… that probably didn't help our image at the moment…"

Ryua let out a hiss of exasperation, slipping her wand back in her robes. "I know, I know… but I couldn't stand it anymore!" She was seething, to the point that her hair and robes were starting to billow in an unreal wind.

"Listen, Ryua, I understand, but you've got to get a hold of yourself. At this rate, you will get yourself in Azkaban. The threat alone is going to make some serious waves…"

"The ministry already hates me," Ryua said. Still, the thought of all those dementors sobered her up, the magic flowing around her starting to subside. And she managed to keep her peace for the last week of term, although it was close from time to time. Once Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally made it out of the hospital wing, it sparked a whole new round of jibes.

Draco, seeing his rival wandering around ('strutting like Dumbledore's prize Crup, just patted on the head and given a biscuit,' he'd said bitterly) was the next one to engage.

Going down the corridor to the Hogwarts Express, Draco caught up with the Trio. "I suppose you're ever so proud, Potter, strutting around like Dumbledore's little pet again, hero of the Wizarding world…"

"Well, I suppose I've got reason, Malfoy Harry said airily.

"You can't just land my father in Azkaban," Draco spat, hiding his confusion that Harry was just going to agree with his arguments.

"Funny, I thought I just did," he said cheerfully. It was Ryua's turn this time to defuse her brother and direct him off to the train.

She'd been dropping back on purpose, waiting until all the compartments would be full so she'd have a legitimate reason not to sit with him. Once he was settled in the mostly empty prefect's car, she wandered back down the train and collapsed next to Ron, sliding the door shut. "Been having a bad week, eh?" he asked, looking down at her.

"I've had better." Ryua said dully, absently stroking her snake. She'd taken to hauling Parsyl around with her, as heavy as she'd gotten, just to help dissuade some of the pushier students. Parsyl reached up, licked her cheek, and promptly flowed across to Harry's lap.

"Oh, that's nice, Parsyl. Abandon me, why don't you?" Ryua said tiredly, but with a small smile.

Harry grinned sheepishly at her, looking up from muttering quietly away in parseltongue. "Sorry…"

"Don't worry about it," she said, leaning back and starting to relax for the first time all week. "You have no idea how nice it is to just… not have people riding you all day long."

"I do, actually," Harry said, pulling an inquisitive Parsyl out of Pig's cage. "I sympathize completely, believe me."

"Yeah," she said, smiling, "I guess you do. Haven't ever heard you threaten to kill off all the little buggers who won't leave you alone though."

"I've been tempted… but yeah, that would have really only made matters worse."

"Oh, well. It's finally summer vacation!"

Hermione looked over. "I thought you hated your home life?"

"Hah. I just hated my parents! I'm going to enjoy myself this year." Ryua said grinning.

"Honestly, you have to be the only person in school who'd enjoy their parents getting thrown in Azkaban…"

"Ever spent five minutes in a room with Lucius?" Ryua said, looking over at her.

"Aah… no, I'll take your word for it, Hermione said, nervously poking at Parsyl, who was investigating Crookshanks a little too closely.

Harry hissed at her, elicting an obedient return from Parsyl, avoiding what could have turned into a very ugly fight in Hermione's lap. "You really have to teach me how to do that, Harry." Ryua said enviously.

"Hey, he could give her private lessons… Like Bill's doing for Fleur…" Ron said, cutting off with a yelp as Ryua smacked him on the ear, blushing ever so slightly.

"Anyways," Hermione said hastily, "What classes are you taking next year? Now that we're done our OWLs, we don't have to keep them all…"

"All the same except Charms," Ryua said instantly. "I got lucky on the OWL, had a retired Auror testing me, so I think I actually passed. I'm not trying my luck again. You?"

"Well, everything, of course!" Hermione said in a slightly offended tone.

Ryua chuckled, looking over at Ron. "Dropping Divination, Astrology… maybe Potions too, I'm just no good at it…"

"Ah, no Ron, you'll never be an Auror that way," Harry said. "I'm dropping Divination and Astrology, but McGonnagall's made me keep Potions… and Transfiguration… and Charms…"

"Well, maybe you'll be a professional Quidditch player, and we'll go found a team and take over the world! …You are back to playing Quidditch now, right?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore and McGonnagall reinstated me." Harry said with great satisfaction.

"Excellent. You'll probably be captain too… my future rival," Ryua said, contemplatively.

"Yeah. Doubt you'll be able to pull off the cup though. I'm not giving it back!"

"Or me!" Ron said, not wanting to be left out of any discussion involving Quidditch.

"Hah. We'll see then, won't we?" Ryua said, eagerly accepting the challenge.

The rest of the trip was mostly uneventful, Ryua missing the one highlight when she went to the bathroom. She came back to find three disturbingly familiar looking slugs in the corridor, and various DA members walking serenely away. "Having fun?" she asked.

"Oh, much," Harry said gleefully as he tucked his wand away.

"You do realize I'm going to have to get them off the train all by myself, right?"

Hermione looked guilty, "Ah… actually no, didn't think about that… but Crabbe and Goyle should have parents coming, right?"

Ryua sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Still, Draco's got a nasty personality when recovering… I'll just lock him in his room and tell the house elves not to let him out until he's perfectly ready to be nice again!"

Author's Note: Wow. Sorry for the long wait, people. I kept getting distracted… you know, homework, sleep, school… and so on.