Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.

Entering Planet Earth

Chapter Nine

Armand's Point of View

I sat on the couch in the flat nursing a glass of firewhisky thinking about Ollivander's words. I felt like everyone's eyes were on Katie and me, waiting for the attraction to settle in. Katie was a pretty girl, but she was no Rebecca.

Life with Rebecca was easy, simple. The only difficulties came along was when Henry started meddling. Henry was a doctor trying to help Rebecca recover her memories. His services had been rendered useless by the appearance of the Malfoy boy.

"Angie, baby, won't you be my lady?" pleaded Fred, drawing me out of my musings. I didn't understand it—Fred was very happy with Tonks, who had pulled him out of his funk when his wife had died in childbirth twelve years ago.

On the other couch, I saw George and his wife Alicia giggling together. They had a spat a few days before my return to the Wizarding World, but it looked like George would be leaving the apartment and returning to his home with Alicia that evening.

"They were like this at Hogwarts too," said Katie. "Fred just keeps doing it for tradition's sake. Angie lets it because it amuses her."

"Why didn't someone warn me about your mind-reading abilities?" I asked teasingly, internally wondering exactly how she knew just what I was thinking.

"Legimency was never my thing. I was always a test subject for the Golden Trio when they were learning," she replied.

"The Golden Trio?" I asked. There were so many things that were common knowledge to everyone but me—the price I paid for abandoning the Wizarding World and never trying to return.

"That's what everyone called Harry, Ron, and Hermione at Hogwarts. Draco called them that once and it stuck. He meant it as an insult, but it fit them so well," she answered patiently, understanding my plight. Rebecca wasn't like that. She could take a question looking for a simple answer and turn it into a lecture worthy of any great professor. Sometimes, it was helpful, when I was really seeking to understand the material. Other times, it was irritating, when I wanted to know what she wanted for dinner. As useful as knowing the nutritional value of pasta versus of steak, I would have loved a quick answer.

One of her many charms, I suppose.

Draco's Point of View

"Dear Draco,

"I would be delighted to have dinner with you! My mother did always say we'd make a very handsome couple. We'd look charming together in the society pages of the paper. You're so tall and handsome and blonde, and I'm so dainty and pretty and blonde—it'd be a match made in heaven just for its aesthetic qualities. Of course, that's not the only reason. Obviously, we're both purebloods with impeccable pedigrees and heirs to vast fortunes. And, of course, the hero, that's you, always deserves to win the affections of the pretty girl, that's me.

"Love, Astoria.

"P.S.- To make it easier for you, not that anything is hard for you, my favorite flowers are lilies, my favorite restaurant Madame Fluffifoot. It's sort of like Madam Puddifoot, but much less garish and much more befitting of two people of our station. And, I'll be wearing a dark green gown. We'll look so adorable in the society pages if we match."

Hermione would never write such drivel. But it's been fifteen years; it's time to move on—and Hermione agrees!

Hermione's Point of View

"Is this? No, it can't be!" I asked.

"The famous, or infamous I should say, Devil's Snare that almost killed Harry and Ron? Yes, yes it is," said Neville with all the pride of a mother talking about her precocious child.

"But it's so tame! It's not even trying to trap us," I exclaimed.

"I thought it was time that the Wizarding World was introduced to a garden guardian that could recognize and detain all those looking to do harm to the owner and his or her loved ones. This particular specimen belongs to Hogwarts—would have come in handy during the Final Battle," he exclaimed.

"Neville, that's brilliant, absolutely brilliant!"

"You're making me blush," replied Neville, who was indeed blushing. "Especially as you are the brilliant one in between us two."

I smiled at the compliment.

"Not when it comes to Herbology," I said, thinking of my old friend who had breeded something so useful and discriminate out of something useful and indiscriminate. He was always kind to me. He never laughed at me or called me names. Harry and Ron might have been my best friends, but Neville was my first friend at Hogwarts. At the root of our friendship was a single amphibian, Trevor.

"What happened to Trevor?" I asked. "I liked that toad, enough to keep you from poisoning him every time we had potions."

"He ran away during my seventh year. Potions was much more hazardous to his health that year. I found his remains outside of the Slytherin Common Room. Draco sent me a letter apologizing. He had to keep his cover," Neville answered, bitterly.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up, but I was thinking of the day we met."

"Our first trip on the Hogwarts Express. I was so nervous."

"I was too. I couldn't believe it wasn't all a dream until Halloween."

"The Sorting was what I was most worried about. To be honest, I worried about everything, but I had nightmares about the Sorting. I was so afraid that the hat would send me back home after declaring me a Squib for the whole Hall to hear," continued Neville, drifting back to times long ago past.

"I was surprised when it put me in Gryffindor. It's what I had hoped for, but I was positive I was going to end up in Ravenclaw—that the Hat would only see the bookish side of me, like everyone else."

"We were all surprised at first that you were a lion, but after first year, no one in Gryffindor was surprised. When you pulled that stunt and hexed me, I thought that you should have been a Slytherin. When I learned the reason why, I thought you should have been a Hufflepuff, so loyal to Harry. When I finally sat down to think about what being a Gryffindor was all about, I realized that you are the quintessential Gryffindor. No one but a Gryffindor would risk Snape's displeasure by whispering instructions to me despite his direct orders against it."

It was my turn to blush.