Chapter 4: Merlin's Pants, Socks and Underwear

Ginny dropped me off at Hogwart's and said that she would meet me back here at 7:30. I looked at my watch. It was 5:15 now, so I had to kill some time. Good grief, I'm going on a 'date' with Ginny Potter, famous Quidditch player and pregnant wife of the most famous wizard in the world. How did that happen? First, though, I had to talk to Neville. I found him in the Herbology classroom organizing supplies.

"Uh Neville, you know how I told you I couldn't go out with you and Hannah? Well, somehow I've ended up as Ginny Potter's date to a red carpet event."

Neville looked up from a plant that was beginning to try and crawl out of the pot. He stroked the uppermost leaves and I could have sworn that it went to sleep. "Did you say you're going out with Ginny Potter tonight?"

He looked surprised and, to be honest, a little hurt. Damn. "Yeah, you heard me right. Let me tell you the whole story." I went through everything from Gringott's to Harry's patronus, and after explaining the last part he didn't have a good look on his face.

"That's not good, Hank. If Harry's got an emergency it doesn't bode well for any of us. We haven't had any real Auror emergencies in quite a while." He brushed some dirt off his hands and sat back in his desk chair. "And I think I may have done something to you that I am now regretting. You know the formal robe I gave you on your first day here? I lent it to Professor Boomstraw this afternoon. He's the Potions professor, and there was a wedding, and he'd forgotten his, and you're about the same size, and…"

"That's fine, Neville. Really. I just wanted you to know that I wasn't planning on doing this, and if you'd like I'll double date soon with you and Hannah. You can fix me up with a date. I'm not blowing you off, really." Please believe me, Neville. You're my best friend here and if things go sideways it would be awful. "I'm only going because Ginny needed someone…"

He held up his hand. "I understand completely, don't worry. I will take you up on your offer sometime, though. Right now I'm still thinking about Harry's emergency. OH! And dress robes for you…I'm sorry. I don't know how to…"

"Its fine, Neville, really. I'll just wear my kilt."

Thank God Neville wasn't pissed at me. I made my way back to my rooms and that's when it hit me, I was going kilted to a formal event. Again. At least this time there was no chance of being dumped, after all, my date is pregnant and married to the most famous wizard in the world.

So far, so good. I didn't have to worry about ironing anymore as Nonky had taken it upon himself to make sure that all of my ironing was done before I could even think about it. White dress shirt, ironed and pressed, check. Mental checklist time again, so I stood at my sink:

Cufflinks - check
Kilt – check
Kilt hose and flashes – check
Ghillie brogues – check
Black bow tie – check
Prince Charlie jacket and waistcoat – check
Sgian Dubh – check
Belt – check
Sporran…sporran?

Sporran! Where is my sporran? I started going though all of drawers, boxes, closet and anyplace else I could think of, but I couldn't find them. Holy crap I can't find my sporrans. Forget about the formal grey one, I can't even find my basic black leather day sporran. Just great. Now what? Oh. "Nonky?"

*crack*

"Yes, Pro…?" Nonky looked at me and must have remembered that I had asked him to call me by my first name, but he seemed to be struggling with it. Finally he croaked out "What can I do for you?"

I guessed that the years of formal address didn't stop so easily. That didn't matter, though, as there was a more pressing matter. "Nonky, when you've helped put things away for me, have you seen any of my sporrans?" I noticed the look of confusion in his eyes. "A sporran is a small pouch that is worn with a kilt. No pockets in a kilt, Nonky, so I need someplace to put my stuff. There's two of them, a small black leather one and a grey fur one…they both have straps on them so I can put them around my waist. Have you seen them?"

"No, Professor. Nonky has not seen them."

"Crap! I have to be ready in…" I looked at my watch. "…an hour to go to a formal event and I can't go if I don't have a sporran. Do you know anybody who might have one?"

Nonky's eyes got bigger and before I could say anything he vanished with a loud pop. I'm guessing that the volume of the house elves' apparition must have something to do with their emotions. Something to ask Hermione about later, much later, after I'd figured out what the hell I was going to do. I started looking through my things again on the off chance that Nonky was wrong, but I knew that he was right. I must have left them at the house along with my pictures and everything else that was on the steadily growing list called Things That I Forgot That I Really Should Have Packed.

A knock at the door brought me out of my reverie. "Hello, Hank?" I turned around to see Minerva McGonagall's head in my doorway. "Hank, I think I can help out your quandary. Nonky just informed me of your dilemma. May I come in?

Oh my God, my room's a complete mess, with all of the open drawers and boxes. The sporran hunt had left everything in total disarray. What was she going to think? I probably look like one of her students with my room this messy. My mom would kill me if she saw my room, even as old as I am now.

"Hank?"

Minerva was looking at me questioningly. I must have spaced again. "Sorry, thank you, Minerva; of course."

A few seconds later Minerva McGonagall stood in my room, surrounded by the debris of my hunt for the sporrans. She looked around quickly out of the corners of her eyes. "I have been informed you are having some trouble locating a sporran, is that correct?"

"Yes, it is. Somehow I've ended up going to a formal event with Ginny Potter tonight and I can't find either of my sporrans."

She smiled and handed me a box. I opened it and saw a full mask badger sporran. A full mask sporran! It was something I'd always wanted. The taxidermied head of a badger was the top part of the sporran, and when the head was lifted it was a pouch like any other sporran, but the rest of it was the badger's fur. I could never afford one; I'd looked at buying one for years. Now I was being handed one.

"It was my brother Apollo's. He's since passed on, and the box has been gathering dust at the back of my closet. You would be more than welcome to wear Balthasar."

I looked up at her. "Balthasar? He named his sporran?"

"Of course. Now, I will have to introduce you before you put him on. Balthasar is an enchanted sporran, and can only be worn by one person." She reached in and pulled out the sporran, looking in its eyes. "Balthasar, I hope you are well. I would like to introduce you to Hank. Hank, this is Balthasar." She turned the sporran until I was looking the badger in the eyes.

"Hello, Balthasar. Very nice to meet you."

The badger curled his lip. "Same to ya. Are you a McGonagall?"

I was talking to a sporran. "No, I'm a MacDonald."

"Hummph." The badger looked at me, rolled his tongue around in his mouth for a minute, and then made another noise. "I' guess you'll do. I've known a few MacDonald sporrans. They weren't all bad."

Minerva handed me Balthasar and I put it, er, him on. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to borrow Balthasar." Then I remembered what she had just said, that Balthasar can only be worn by one person. "Minerva…I'm, I'm not borrowing Balthasar, am I?"

"Apollo would be so happy to see Balthasar on a kilt again. Think of it as a present from one professor to another."

This was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. Willing myself back to some semblance of composure I knew what I needed to do. "Then let me thank you appropriately." I walked over to my desk, opened the drawer and pulled out a bottle of scotch and two small glasses. "Please have a wee dram with me as a thank you."

Minerva smiled as I handed her the glass. "You are most welcome. And I now know that Apollo would most definitely approve of Balthasar's new owner."

Ginny showed up in the great hall right on time. The first time I had met Ginny I thought Harry was a lucky man, but now I knew it. "Wow, Ginny, you look great." She smiled and walked towards me, her simple, elegant black dress moving like water. "That's some dress. Is it…"

"Yes, it's a new fabric. It's enchanted to look like liquid when moving; otherwise it's a normal dress. I have to say, you look quite nice yourself."

"Thanks. Neville didn't know I was going to this, um, thing so he lent out my dress robes to the Charms professor for a wedding. I think that was it. Maybe the Potions professor. Anyway, I put on my kilt and then disaster was saved by Minerva and Balthasar here." I patted Balthasar's head and, upon feeling a small growl, immediately stopped. I didn't want to start out my night going to the hospital because my sporran bit me.

Ginny smiled. "Well, hello Balthasar."

"Hello there yourself, lassie."

Upon hearing Balthasar reply she took a step back, startled. "Hank, I don't know if…"

"Don't worry, Ginny. Balthasar says that formal events bore him, so he's just going to go to sleep." I cupped my hand and whispered in her ear "Plus I told him if he behaves tonight I'll wear him more often."

Ginny told me I was being foolish when I wouldn't hold her hand for the side-along apparition. Holding her purse strap with one arm while she held my arm was fine with me. I may not be the brightest bulb around, but I know better than to do show up holding hands with a married woman, let alone a famous, pregnant woman. The minute we arrived I moved my arm and was only holding the purse strap. Sure enough, an instant after we arrived at the red carpet the flashbulbs began going off.

Melody was there at once. "Smart move, having Hank hold the purse strap, Ginny."

Whoa. Melody looked, uh, wow. I wasn't expecting that; she'd gone from the cute librarian look to something out of a magazine. Deep blue dress, just a hint of skin, beautiful necklace, her hair pulled up…breathe, right, yeah. "Um, yeah, Hi…"

"Hank's idea. I'm glad he did now, too." Ginny noticed Melody looking at me. "Don't talk to the sporran, Melody. Trust me."

Before I could say anything or do anything I was being pulled by Ginny and somewhat pushed by Melody towards the crowd; it was the walk down the red carpet. Ginny was immediately mobbed and I don't know how she managed. Flashbulbs were going off all over the place and people were shouting.

Where's Harry? How's the pregnancy? Are you leaving Harry for Professor Muggle? How long have you been dating? Is the baby his?

With some help from Melody we eventually got the correct answers out, assuring everybody that Harry and Ginny were fine and that I was not running away with Ginny and taking her to America to raise her child as a Muggle. After almost reaching the entrance we stopped for a few pictures. I made sure that Melody stood between Ginny and I when the pictures were being taken. I put my hand on the small of Melody's back for the picture, and I could have sworn I felt her shiver. Looking down I thought I saw Balthasar's ear brushing against her butt; that must have been it. I didn't blame him, she has a nice butt. Hank, get a grip, man. You've got to be at least ten years older than she is…but she looks and smells so good…

After walking into the ballroom things became slightly easier, as there was only one official reporter and photographer from The Daily Prophet. Melody made introductions to several executives who were quite dismayed to learn that I couldn't ride a broom. I'm sure it must have felt like making the best car in the world, then talking to someone who doesn't drive. Ginny and Melody introduced me to the rest of the Harpies, including Gwennog Jones, who after reading a bit on Quidditch I equated to meeting an elite world-class athlete. They were all very nice, and very interested in what I thought of the wizarding world. More importantly, they wanted to know what I thought of Quidditch.

I found myself sitting at a table surrounded by what possibly was half of the Harpies team. "To be quite honest, ladies, it's like nothing I've ever seen. It's a combination of car racing, American football, hockey and soccer…but it's done at about a hundred miles an hour in the air on brooms. I've only seen one game, er match; the one against the Cannons, but it was amazing. I still don't see how you can manage to stay on the broom let alone plan strategy and not get killed in the process." I took a drink of scotch. No, it wasn't scotch. Firewhiskey. Now I knew I needed to be careful. "There's absolutely nothing like it in the Muggle world."

Apparently I'd said the right things, because for the next twenty minutes or so I was in the midst of a conversation that only professionals have, one filled with the sort of intricate details that only someone who really knows their stuff can talk about intelligently. Well, that's what it sounded like to me. I'm pretty sure that Ron would get all of it; I'd have to ask him about it later. I was also informed that to really see good Quidditch I needed to attend one of their matches that was against better competition than the Cannons. I was most definitely not going to tell Ron that part.

Eventually Melody arrived at the table. "Ladies, we need to do the official picture with the Firebolt executives. We'll be taking the picture in front of the speaker's podium. Please take a few minutes to fix your hair or makeup if necessary and join me as soon as possible." I stood up to let the ladies leave and then my way back over to the bar.

While waiting for my drink I overheard a woman speaking. "I cannot believe that Ministry would actually let a Muggle teach at Hogwart's! Seriously, Candida, you're going to be ok with a Muggle teaching your daughter?"

This was what Melody had tried to explain to me at the Burrow; some prejudices were going to be hard to overcome. I got my drink and didn't wait for Candida's reply, ending up towards the back of the room, leaning against the wall and watching it all. How was this really all going to work out? I haven't even started teaching yet, but already I felt a lot of pressure to disprove all of the Muggle prejudices. Were some of them true? Well, yes. We weren't all wonderful people, there are still a lot of bad things that happen in the world, and sometimes I think humanity has quite possibly gone insane. Twenty minutes watching the evening news was proof of that. But there were a lot of good things, too. I was trying to list some of the good things and figure out how to work them into my lesson plan when I heard a voice beside me.

"Sickle for your thoughts." It was Melody. She was holding a glass of champagne that was changing colors, from peach to rose to some shade of blue and back again.

I looked down at her, wondering what I'd done to be so lucky. "Well, before you got here I was trying to think of how I could help disprove all of the negative stereotypes about Muggles, but right now I'm trying to figure out what the heck you're drinking."

"Chameleon champagne." She moved towards the wall and began leaning on it as I was. "It's made from enchanted grapes, they change taste every so often. If you don't like one kind of champagne just wait a while and it will change."

"They let you drink on duty, then? Sounds like a great job."

She looked up at me over the top of her glasses. "Oh, I am most definitely off duty, thank you. The red carpet is done, all the pictures have been taken and the interviews are complete. Now it's just dinner and some handshakes. I don't have to worry about that."

I liked her hair that way, when it's put up and pulled back. She has very nice ears. Her earrings were sparkling

"Hank?"

"Mmm? Oh sorry, spaced out there for a moment. So no exit pictures after the dinner?"

"No, the red carpet is just for the press. Everyone will apparate home from here, or Floo, for those too drunk to apparate. There are designated apparators, as last New Year's we forgot and one of the sponsors splinched himself horribly."

Did that mean what I thought? "So, Melody, does that mean I've officially done my part as Harry Substitute?"

"Yes, you're done for the evening."

And so is she. Was I crazy? Screw it, why not. I downed the rest of my firewhiskey. "In that case, would you like to go somewhere else and have a bite to eat or maybe a drink?" She turned her face towards me and a slow smile began.

A rough voice answered "I could use a drink."

Melody looked at me. I gave her an "excuse me" smile. "Sorry, my sporran needs a drink."

I woke up to something furry rubbing against my face. Why did I sleep with my sporran by my head? That makes no sense. I lifted my head off of the pillow and immediately put it back down again. Oh my God, firewhiskey. How much firewhiskey? I turned the pillow over and gently laid my head on the cool side of the light blue pillow. Light blue? My sheets are green. What? I turned my head, slowly, over to the other side of the bed, where I saw a tousled mass of dark hair and a bare shoulder peeking out from beneath the sheets. Oh my. Wow.

Taking my time to sit up, I slowly moved to see a large, black cat rub its head against my hand. "Hello there. I have no idea what your name, is but it's very bright in here."

I felt Melody stir beside me slowly. "Merlin's pants! Oh my head. His name is Churchill. "

I rubbed Churchill's head and was rewarded with a deep, loud purr. "Well, he's obviously a morning cat."

"Definitely. And before you ask, yes, that Churchill was a wizard."

I had to get my brain together.

'List of things I remember:
Leaving the party with Melody
Going to a wizarding pub in London
Dancing at a wizarding club in London (My God, I actually danced?)
Arriving back at Melody's house
Drinking a couple bottles of wine
Telling Melody I'd never seen a wizarding tattoo'

It all came back to me, right then and there. 'Holy shit. Holy shit. This was a good thing. A very good thing, but now what? Will she say that it was a wonderful night, but she doesn't think we should tell anyone about this and then show me the door? What do I do now? This hadn't happened to me since, since, damn, college- years ago. Will I ever get to see that tattoo on her hip again? Yeah, the tattoo...the badger that crawls out from behind the Hufflepuff crest and looks like its growling. That was really something. Should I get up and make coffee? She probably doesn't have coffee, tea then. Where are my clothes?'

Before I could think of anything else, she shifted in the bed, pulling the sheet up over her chest. "I know I feel like leftover flobberworm pus, and I probably look worse than that, but would you like a cup of tea- might do us both a bit of good?"

She's not kicking me out. This is good. "Tea? Uh yeah, tea would be great."

Melody reached over and pulled an afghan off a rocking chair next to her bed and wrapped it around herself under the sheet, then eased herself out of bed.

"Oh, I'm going to need several hangover potions this morning to fix this. If you'd like, you can take a shower. Bathroom's through the door over there." She pointed to the door closest to my side of the bed and began to slowly make her way towards what I assumed to be the general direction of the kitchen.

I waited until she was out of sight then quickly made my way to the bathroom and closed the door. Yes, she'd seen all of me last night, but I'm sure my pasty whiteness would not be quite the same in the light of morning. Then it was the bathroom challenge. All women's bathrooms are strange to men, but this one was even stranger. I didn't recognize any of the soap or shampoo labels, and after smelling all of them, I decided the blue one was the one that would make me smell the least girly. The shower was helping somewhat, but this wasn't going to be an easy day by any stretch of the imagination. While washing up, a hand came into the shower.

"Drink this."

"What is it?" She wasn't looking at me, she was being polite.

"It's a hangover potion. Trust me."

I drank the potion and handed the glass back to her. I finished up in the shower and stepped out, wrapped the towel around my waist and ventured outside to see if I could collect my clothes. There was a trail of clothing that started (or more precisely, ended) in the bedroom and made its way out towards the living room. I found my kilt and put it on, then my t-shirt, then located Balthasar on the top of a dresser.

"Nicely done, mate." If a badger could smile, this one was.

"Balthasar, not this morning, please."

Melody returned wearing a t-shirt bearing the name "The Weird Sisters" and handed me a cup of tea.

"It does wonders. How about the shower?"

I took a sip and wondered when I'd feel fully human again. "The shower helps."

She stepped closer, leaned up on her tiptoes and smelled my hair. "Yes, you smell nice and floral."

I looked down at her smiling face. I could get used to this. I had to make sure she knew I wasn't one of those guys. "Melody, since we've started at step, I don't know, seven or twenty or whatever on the dating scale, how would you like to start at step one? Would you like to go out with me? It would be a double; I owe a friend of mine."

"Professor Boyd, are you asking me on a date- an official, seen in public by the wizarding world date?" She was twirling a strand of hair with her finger.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

"I would love to, but right now, I need a shower, and then I have to go into the office to see what the press had to say about last night. Eleven a.m. came very early this morning, and I am usually ready much earlier than this."

"Thank you very much, Melody." I leaned down and gave her a small kiss. "Wait, did you say eleven in the morning?"

"Yes, why? School isn't in session yet, Professor."

"No, but I have a meeting today, and I need to be there, um, well, right now. Crap. Neville is going to kill me."

"No, he won't. You're new, plus you're a Muggle. Say the clock's hands did something weird. Let me take a quick shower and then I'll take you there. Just make yourself at home; there are some muffins in the kitchen." With that, she handed me her teacup and went into the bathroom.

I am officially dating a witch. I think. Wow.

Melody dropped me off at the gate of Hogwarts and I took off at a dead sprint, taking the stairs to my rooms two at a time. At least I was already showered. I threw on a pair of khakis, grabbed a shirt and jammed my feet into the first pair of shoes I could find, pulled a notebook and a pen out of my desk and headed downstairs. Hopefully I wasn't the last one there.

I wasn't, thank God. Actually, there weren't very many people there at all. "I'm sorry, Ne, um, I'm sorry Headmaster. I apologize for being late." I sat down at the table next to Neville and across from another witch.

"You're not late, Professor Boyd. We don't start for another hour yet. I told you the wrong time yesterday, sorry about that." He handed me my cup of coffee. "Nonky says they're trying out a new roast, they're very interested in your opinion."

If there was ever a day I needed a strong cup of coffee, this was it. Luckily Hogwarts has house elves. House Elf Coffee: ask for it by name. "Remind me to ask Hermione what house elves like for Christmas."

"Professor Boyd, I'd like you to meet Professor Chang. Professor Chang teaches Charms."

I looked across the table and shook hands with a very nice looking Asian woman. Were all the women in the wizarding world good looking?

"Very nice to meet you, Professor Boyd. Neville, now that the formalities are out of the way, can we please stop that?" she looked at me. "Please, call me Cho."

Thank you, Cho. Call me Hank." Somewhere my addled synapses began firing. "Are you the same Cho Chang that attended Hogwart's with…"

She smiled. "Yes, that's me. It seems, like Neville, some of us love Hogwart's so much we never want to leave."

Neville swirled his tea around his cup for a moment. "After seeing The Prophet this morning, Hank, I doubt you'll ever want to leave."

I groaned. Now what? "Ok, let me see. Based on the questions I got going down the red carpet with Ginny, I'm guessing that I'm sleeping with the star Chaser for the Harpies?"

Cho started laughing and slid the paper towards me. "No, you're not sleeping with the star Chaser. You're sleeping with all of them!"

The paper was turned to the Society page which was filled with pictures. The caption over the picture read, seriously: "Professor Muggle and His Harpies Harem." There was the picture of me, at the table with the Harpies, and we were laughing. The picture even caught the exact moment when Gwennog Jones had put her arm around my shoulders to tell me an extremely dirty joke.

"Merlin's socks."

"Actually it's Merlin's pants," Neville looked amused.

"Yeah, well, Merlin's pants, socks, underwear and t-shirt. Does anybody really believe this stuff? I mean, come on."

Cho looked sympathetic. "Hank, we've all had our run-ins with The Prophet over the years. Everybody takes the editorials and the society pages with a grain of salt."

"Those with half a brain take everything in The Prophet with a grain of salt," Neville raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "But I think I'd like to hear the truth about one little picture."

He picked up the paper and turned to the last page of event pictures. There, at the bottom of the page, was a very small picture of me, leaning against the wall, talking to Melody. It happened to capture the moment when I asked her if she would like to leave the party, and I could see that smile begin to spread across her face.

"I take it you had a good night, then, Hank?"

I blush easily. My sister and my brothers could make me do it almost on command once I hit puberty. Bringing any dates home was like walking into a firing line; I knew it would happen eventually. My mom finally put a stop to it when my sister brought out the baby pictures to show my prom date. I had hoped that I would grow out of it, that maturity (or whatever semblance of maturity I have) would finally put a stop to it. Judging by Cho's face, I could tell immediately that hope had not been fulfilled.

"Yes, Neville, it went well, oh, and you can ask Hannah out to Muggle London anytime you like; I'll have a date." I then took the opportunity to pick up the paper, refold it open and tried to hide my face as best possible. I'm sure it didn't work.

While waiting for the rest of the staff to arrive, I savored my coffee and read through the rest of The Prophet. There was the official story about the Harpies/Firebolt announcement and coverage of the event. Luckily, Melody got the reporter she wanted to write the article, I guessed, because I was only mentioned as a family friend who accompanied Ginny as Harry was called off to Auror duty. There was no mention of any Auror activity, so I took that to mean it was something big that they didn't want to tip anyone off about; the way Neville had reacted when I told him made me think it was something big. Eventually, I found myself looking at the very small picture again. Neville got up from the table, and before I could say anything, he told me that I should keep the paper. It was then that I noticed that the population of the room had grown to what I could only guess was the entire staff of Hogwart's.

"Colleagues, let me welcome you back to another year at Hogwart's. We have a new addition to the staff this year, as I'm sure you have read in The Prophet. Let me introduce Professor Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd, who will be teaching Muggle Studies as Professor Lisle has decided to, ah, pursue other opportunities."

Shit. I have to talk? I stood up.

"Thank you. I am very thankful of the position here at Hogwart's, and as I'm sure you've read, I am a Muggle, and from my accent you would be right in guessing that I'm an American. I would very much appreciate any help you can provide to assist in my becoming more familiar with the wizarding world. I know that formality is required when dealing with students, but among colleagues please call me Hank." I looked at Neville and he nodded. I sat back down. Good enough for a first impression, I guess.

From there he introduced, most likely for my benefit, the rest of the staff. Cho, whom I had just met, was the Charms professor. Boomstraw the robe-borrower was the Potions professor, and he looked like something that crawled out of a rock. My height, yes, but the skinniest man I've ever seen, completely bald with a giant grey, bushy beard. Hagrid was teaching Care of Magical Creatures, a thing named Slake was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and a pleasant but sickly looking wizard named Valencio would be teaching Transfiguration. Sizing people up, I made my list:

Cho – like
Boomstraw – don't like
Hagrid – like
Slake – not sure
Valencio – not sure

Professor Binns was still teaching the History of Magic. Hard to replace someone who's already dead, I guess. There were some other professors, but I didn't catch their names. I'd either eventually ask their names again or just go the rest of the time and not worry about it. I could always pull the 'Hey, I'm just a Muggle' card. The rest of the meeting went pretty well, and eventually we could either stay and discuss things with our colleagues or retire to our rooms. Boomstraw left immediately, which didn't surprise me. It was then Neville who sat down next to me looking like he'd just survived an ordeal.

"Not your favorite thing to do, eh Neville?'

"Not really, it went better than I thought though. Boomstraw didn't surprise me when he left. He's such a Slytherin stereotype sometimes."

"Oh yeah, the four houses. I take it he's head of Slytherin?"

"Yes, he's the head of house for Slytherin. Cho is the Ravenclaw head of house and acting Deputy Headmaster, Slake is the Hufflepuff head of house and Valencio is the head of Gryffindor. You know, if I remember right, I think your girlfriend was in Hufflepuff."

Yeah, I think the tattoo gave it away the other night. Girlfriend. Maybe. Whoa! Cool, but, um…"Neville, she's not my girlfriend- well, yet. I, uh, we, um…anyway, we've just started dating. Was she here when you were a student?"

He shook his head positively but didn't look very sure. "Yes, I think she was in Ginny's year, but to be honest, I really don't remember her very well. I wasn't always the outgoing person you see today. I only got to know people from the other houses my last year." Neville stopped for a minute and a dark shadow seemed to pass over his face. "I don't really know very many from Slytherin. Just a few."

Slytherin, that made me think of what I'd read in the books that Hermione had given me. "Neville, I know Ron hates Slytherin with a passion. Is it still like that?" Please say no, Neville. I've got enough to get through. "Have things changed since, well…"

"Since the Battle of Hogwart's? Actually, yes. There's still a lot of rivalry, and if you get down to the root of it, I know there are still some prejudices against certain houses, especially Slytherin, but it's nowhere near as bad as when I was here."

Looking around, I realized that Neville and I were the only ones left in the great hall. "Looks like we're it, Neville."

He took a quick look around. "So we are. Why don't we call it a day? I bet you could use some sleep."

"Merlin's socks…"

"Pants."

"Whatever, I'll see you later, Neville."

When I got back to my rooms, I picked Balthasar up off of my bed and put him on the shelf next to Edgar.

"Balthasar, this is Edgar the raven. I talk to him a lot, but he's never going to talk back as he's a fake. Just don't think he needs aviary CPR or anything as he's so quiet. Is this a good spot for you?"

The badger's nose twitched a bit.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Then it was time for a nap. Nap; I am getting old.

I don't think I had been asleep for more than ten minutes when a thumping against my window woke me up. There were five owls outside, looking quite perturbed that I had not yet deigned to let them in. I pulled my glasses on and opened the window.

"Come on in, now serving number three hundred and seventy-four."

After removing the messages, I sat down at my desk. The first one was from Hermione, saying that she thought I looked great in my pictures (especially the small one) and that Ron was incredibly jealous of my harem. The second one was from George, inviting me for a beer sometime and asking if I could introduce him to Gwennog Jones. The thought occurred to me that shouldn't Ginny be getting these requests, as they're her teammates? Thinking further on the matter, I figured that Ginny had probably told them to all "sod off" that Quidditch was her job and not a dating service or Quidditch fan club, or something like that. The third one was from Molly, remarking that my pictures were getting better and that she was happy that I was training myself to not use profanity. Number four was from Ginny and Harry, both thanking me for helping out Ginny last night and asking me to the annual barbeque before school starts. The fifth one, though, was from Melody.

Hank,

Thank you for an interesting evening. I can definitely say that it was the best ending of a press event I've ever put together. I think you left a very small knife at my house, so if you're looking for it, don't worry, I have it here safe and sound. I'll bring it to you the next time I see you. I know it was in a hurry, but I would love to go out on a "double" with you, just let me know as far ahead as you can as I'll have to coordinate it around the Harpies schedule.

I'm sure you've seen the paper. So has my mum, and now she wants to know when we're going to stop over for tea so I can introduce you- gotta love the press.

Until next time,

Melody

I sat back against my chair and read the note a second time. Well, it wasn't a "hey I thought about it afterwards and I really think we should just be friends" note. That was good. After rummaging around in my desk I found a pair of scissors and cut out the picture of us leaning against the wall and put it on my desk. Now Hermione can't say that I haven't decorated.