Author's notes:

The armband idea in this chapter is one I borrowed from another fanfic but I don't remember the name or author. If anyone reads the chapter and knows the fic, let me know so I can properly thank the author for the idea!

The Mahoutokoro information is straight from Pottermore.

Also, would a "previously on Closer…" be helpful to you as a reader now that the fic is getting so long?

Thanks for reading and reviewing! You all are wonderful!

Present Day…

Lighting split the ceiling of the third-floor conference room. Thunder sounded, and a two-foot cloud formed ominously over the oblong table. There was a scramble to move scrolls and other papers out of the way as lighting hit again, and a sudden, tiny, downpour began soaking the wood. The miniature cloud made its way leisurely down the length of the table before suddenly veering left.

"As I was– oh!"

The head of the Department of Muggle Relations jumped out of his chair in an effort to avoid the rain. It didn't work. For a moment the unusually tall man's head was literally in the clouds and in seconds, he was completely soaked. Dry and toasty across the table, James watched his nose flare in an effort to stay calm. That also did not work. He swore and jumped up, muttering a drying spell, before sitting back down.

"As we were saying, Mr. Yamasura, a Muggle-born registry allows your government to keep track of this difficult sub-group."

The rain seemed to have stopped, and the cloud had moved toward the back of the room. Everyone's eyes followed it as it floated over Gibbons once again. He growled another curse and covered his head with a handy Daily Prophet. The man was determined, James would give him that. He held back a laugh as Gibbons wrung out his tie with one hand and continued to hold the newspaper in the other, all the while grimacing horribly at his ruined shoes. How was the man always so tan, James wondered idly?

"And why would we want to 'keep track' of muggle-borns, Mr. Gibbons?"

James had no idea how Kaito Yamasura, an old friend from their Triwizard Tournament days, was keeping a straight face. First off, the idea was idiotic. The only reason it had become policy at the Ministry was because so many people were terrified of Voldemort. There was no practical purpose to it, other than the government being able to target Muggle-borns, something that unfortunately James saw coming sooner rather than later. The more reasonable people had long since been forced out of Ministry positions; the only reason he was still there was to spy for the Order.

"Please, call him Gilbert," James offered solicitously. Gibbons' first name was his favorite thing about the man, entirely because the man himself hated it.

"We need to ensure that all members of the wizarding community are contributing to our society," Gibbons said fervently, after shooting a killing look at James. "Of course pure-bloods will, but a Muggle-born registry ensures that each of these people have a legitimate occupation. It's a purely economic consideration."

Kaito blinked. "I see. Besides… economic considerations, are there other reasons?"

Gibbons glanced up at the still-hovering raincloud and tentatively put down the newspaper. Immediately, there was another downpour. Seeing that he was busy fending off the miniature rainstorm, his co-worker continued the presentation.

"Muggle-borns weren't raised in the wizarding world," the raven-haired old woman began querulously. "They might do something to expose us, put our world in danger. Who knows who they are really loyal to when push comes to shove?"

"That is what the International Statute of Secrecy is for, is it not, Miss Bolton?" Kaito questioned, his pen moving smoothly over his scroll.

Five years ago, James would have said that Glenda Bolton was a relic of the past. Her anti-muggle prejudice had kept her at a low-level in the Ministry until Voldemort's ideas began to take hold, making the prejudice that had always been there in many wizards more acceptable in the light of day. Now, she was assistant department head, a position that previously would have been off-limits for her.

Glenda huffed at Kaito's question. "Yes, but these Muggle-borns could be dangerous. Our department will be releasing a report on these people that show just how dangerous they really are."

James' ears perked, and Gibbons looked peeved as he finished yet another drying spell. Clearly, this wasn't something he was supposed to know about. "Tell us more, Glenda," he encouraged, eyes wide in fake outrage. "Why are Muggle-borns so dangerous?"

Her chest puffed. "Well, statistics show that Muggle-borns tend to be more violent. Ten out of–"

"Thank-you, Glenda," Gibbons interrupted nervously, clearing his throat. "They can read for themselves in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning."

Glenda's eyebrows rose seriously. "It is very informative."

For a moment, the only sound was the pitter patter of tiny rain drops. The cloud had migrated to the corner, directly over Gibbon's bag of documents. He swore and jogged over to yank it to safety.

"Potter, can't you do something about this?" Gibbons' bark of pure frustration was music to James' ears. Doing whatever he could to make the man's life miserable was something of a sport, one that James excelled at.

He rearranged his features to look semi-sympathetic. "Sorry Gilbert, you know those maintenance workers…"

"God they need to get that contract figured out," Gibbons grumbled. He belatedly caught the use of his first named and glared at James again.

James took this as his cue. "Thank you so much for your time," he said, pushing back his chair to end another meeting from hell.

Kaito also stood. "I am sorry we could not come to an agreement on this issue."

Spreading his hands, James shrugged. "We can only do so much around these tables."

Kaito shot him a knowing look. "I will mention the… novel… idea of a 'muggle-born registry' as you call it. Perhaps it will gain some traction with some of our council members."

The officials from Department of Muggle Relations looked at James sourly before walking out the door. They didn't bother to say goodbye to Kaito, with whom they had called the meeting. James had just managed to join, after being lied to about the time and location several times.

The meeting had been long, exhausting, and, in the end, pointless. James had made sure of that. He didn't feel like he did much to help the cause these days, but he could sure as hell make sure none of this bullshit spread to other wizarding countries.

"I'm still waiting for that re-match someday," James challenged Kaito with a grin as he held the door open, thankful beyond belief that their meeting was over.

Kaito tilted his head. "Oh was that quidditch you were playing last time? I thought you were showing me your first-year broom skills."

"I seem to remember my team beating yours at the Tri-Wizard," James reminded him loftily, giving him a mock punch in the side. Although James hadn't been old enough to participate in the Tri-Wizard, he had been able to organize several quidditch matches between the schools during the games. "Besides, we did invent the game in the first place."

"Some rogue Hogwarts students might have spread the game to Mahoutokoro, but we perfected it."

Although James hated to admit it, Kaito's boast wasn't entirely unearned. The quidditch rivalry between the two schools was hundreds of years old. Legend had it that a band of Hogwarts students trying to circumnavigate the globe via broomstick had stumbled onto Mahoutokoro, the Japanese school of witchcraft and wizardry, and taught them to play quidditch. Mahoutokoro students liked to say that Hogwarts graduates had regretted the decision ever since, because the rigorous training conditions at the mountain-top school made for stiff competitors.

James shook hands with Kaito and they made plans to meet up in a few days. Back in his tiny office, he plopped down on his rickety chair and swung it toward his desk to find… a prophecy ball. He jumped up, careful not to touch it. Touching a prophecy not meant for you landed one in St. Mungo's with a case of the insanities for a while. It eventually wore off, but this wasn't the time for James to be hospitalized.

A note on his desk, one that hadn't been there when he'd left for the meeting a few hours ago, caught his attention and he leaned forward. It wasn't made of regular parchment paper. It was… computer paper? Is that what Lily had called it? The words "D of M, prophecy 635- James and Lily" were scrawled on it haphazardly, the print barely legible.

What the hell? James checked his security wards, but no human had passed through them. A quick check with his co-workers turned up only a recent house-elf sighting. That could be something, but house elves were a dime-a-dozen here. There was no way to figure out which one had been in his office. That would explain, however, why there wasn't someone babbling and acting crazy in his office. A house elf would be immune to the defense charms on the prophecy ball.

He bent down to examine the note more, when something jostled at his feet. James jumped in surprise, and to his horror, his fingers brushed the prophecy ball. The smoke inside began to swirl, and an eerie voice filled the room.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... "

"Mufflato!" James exclaimed, quickly locking his door. Fuck, this could be bad. There was nothing to do now except listen, though.

"Born to the stag and the doe near death,"

Stag and doe… James' jaw dropped. Him and Lily. It had to be. Near death, though? Panic filled him. Lily was going to die soon? It took everything he had not to rush out of the room immediately.

"…he is fated to live, but fated to die ... "

Their… son? Would have the power to vanquish Voldemort? More panic, warring with pride.

"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ..."

Someone else would have to help him interpret that part. All he knew was that he and Lily might die soon, they were fated to have a child, and that the child might also die. What the bloody hell was going on?

The prophecy fizzled out and the glass ball dropped to the floor with a dull clunk, now useless. James stared at it blankly, trying and failing to come to grips with what he had just heard. Stag… doe… death… child…

All at once, James knew two terrible things. First, he could lie to himself all he wanted but the truth was, he was still very much in love with Lily Evans and perhaps always would be. Second, he could love her all he wanted from a distance, but if they were together, this prophecy would come true. Lily, and their child, would die. And that was simply unacceptable.

4 Years Ago

Lily stared at the seemingly harmless piece of cloth in her hand. The band was red and slightly stretchy, with a block-style letter "M" outlined in black. She instantly knew it would irritate her skin something awful. That wasn't the only thing it would irritate.

She and the rest of the few dozen muggle-borns left at Hogwarts had been gathered in the Great Hall. Dumbledore was standing by the doors, arms crossed, a foreboding expression on his face. McGonagall rushed around frantically, snapping at any ministry wizards foolish enough to cross her path.

Lily had never felt more like a second-class citizen in her life. She'd been yanked out of the dungeon classroom by a stranger, leaving Professor Slughorn sputtering in surprise. Lily had been so deep in her studies (N.E.W.T.s were only six months away) that she hadn't had the time to protest. Peter was the only other Gryffindor in the N.E.W.T. level potions class, and Lily hoped he wouldn't run to the other Marauders right away. Things could get quite messy if they got involved.

As the man pushed her rudely down the hall, she demanded to know what the hell was going on. Was she in trouble? Was her family ok? Lily's mind raced, but no answers were forthcoming, only a stern, "be compliant if you know what's good for you." Of course she'd promptly decided to be anything but.

"I'm not going to be dragged off to who-knows-where…" she'd started shouting, but paused when she saw the other Muggle-borns being led down the hall as well.

They'd all turned to look at her shout, and she gave them a thin smile, keenly aware of her responsibility as head girl.

Her eyes found Bridget, a normally-plucky 5th year Ravenclaw who looked terrified out of her mind. Some of the more nasty Voldemort supporters had been talking loudly of Muggle-born work camps that, to Lily's horror, were actually being proposed in the Ministry. They hadn't gone through to her knowledge (the wizarding world hadn't gone that crazy, yet), but this certainly wasn't a good sign. Lily jogged a few steps to catch up with the brunette and linked arms, throwing an "I dare you" look over her shoulder to her guard. They'd finished the journey in silence.

A very tall, very tan ministry worker had ordered them to line up against the wall. Heart racing, neck tight, Lily made sure she was first. It wasn't as bad as she feared. It was far worse. A flashbulb blinded her for a moment. Blinking wildly, she tried to listen to what the ministry goon was saying.

"You are now being entered into the Muggle-born registry. When you graduate, the school will be providing us with your address and impending employment." The man glared at Dumbledore as he said this. Dumbledore stared impassively back.

"This," he continued, holding up the armband, "identifies you as a Muggle-born. It's for your own protection. Upon graduation, you will be required to provide your location and occupation to the ministry monthly. Again, this is for your own protection. The band also serves as a gentle reminder to check-in with the Ministry every month."

"A gentle reminder?" Lily couldn't help but ask. Dumbledore's eyes flared in a clear sign to shut-up, but she ignored him. What was he doing to stop all this, anyways?

The man's eyes narrowed on her and she couldn't help but wish she hadn't drawn his attention. "Yes, Miss…"

She set her jaw and didn't answer his implied question. He'd know soon enough from this disgusting registry, anyways. She'd heard the rumors, but had refused to believe them. "I'm not putting this thing on until I know exactly what it does."

The pop of the flashbulb was the only noise, as the photographer continued down the line. The woman passing out the armbands paused and looked around uncertainly as Finlay, a Gryffindor in 7th year and a prefect, refused to take one from her hand. It was then that Lily noticed the dozen or so ministry workers that had escorted them out of class, lined up between them and the exit.

Lily's eyes met Finlay's and he mouthed, what the fuck. She shrugged haplessly, just as upset as he was. The man in front cleared his throat as he glanced back and forth between them and she could practically see him pinning them as ringleaders.

"Fine. Why don't you two step forward." He nodded and bounced on his feet, shooting a look toward the group of ministry workers that had apparently embraced their roles as enforcers. The wall of them walked forward.

The two seventh-years glanced at each other. Lily nodded slightly in encouragement, her eyes going to the terrified-looking first years down the row. It's better that he makes an example out of us she thought. They took a few steps away from the wall.

"You will not go near my students, Gilbert." Dumbedore's voice was deceptively mild, although somehow it echoed through the Great Hall.

Lily choked back a laugh. Gilbert? The man looked annoyed, then blinked, a smug smirk on lips that made Lily want to punch him.

"Albus, are you defying the Ministry?" His words dripped with sarcastic surprise, but the clear attempt to put himself on the same level of authority as Dumbledore with the first-name usage failed miserably. Nothing could be less authoritative than Gilbert.

The headmaster walked forward and plucked two armbands out of the wooden crate. "I am doing no such thing. I am simply assisting you in the process."

Lily felt her heart drop as Dumbledore made his way toward them, eyes unfathomable as ever. The man she'd trusted to protect them was coming forward to put some kind of magical device that did who-knows-what on her. Even Professor McGonagall was looking at him askance. The utter betrayal on Lily's face must have been obvious, because his face softened.

"Trust me, Miss Evans. I'll explain later." His voice was barely discernable, even as he was inches from her face, sliding the band up onto her arm.

Her fists tightened, teeth biting into her lip hard enough to draw blood. How had the wizarding world sunk this low?

Gilbert (she still thought it was hilarious, despite the circumstances) side-stepped Dumbledore and came closer, face alight in a malicious smile. It was funny, she thought distantly, it looked like the man should be on a magazine cover, not doing the bidding of the Ministry.

"As I said, to help protect you, and remind you to check-in with the Ministry, the bands will give you a signal when it's time." He paused, expecting some kind of response.

"How helpful, Gilbert."

Her acerbic response made his face twist in disgust. "It's Mr. Gibbons to you, mu " He cleared his throat. "Miss…" one of the other workers hurried up and whispered in his ear. "Evans. Lily Evans." Gilbert stared at her, as if memorizing her face. She rolled her eyes.

"Let's get this over with."

"Indeed." He motioned to an older woman with black hair and (apparently) a black heart.

As soon as the woman muttered a spell and waved her wand, the band started tightening around Lily's arm. It wasn't bad at first, just rather annoying. She took a breath and reached over, grabbing Finlay's hand. He squeezed it in unspoken agreement. They had to take this, but they didn't have to let the Ministry see them squirm.

Both of them stared Gilbert squarely in the eyes. His face was eager, she could practically see him licking his lips in anticipation, his gaze going from their faces to the tightening bands.

As it began to dig in more, the band seemed to shrink not only in circumference, but in width as well. It was closer to the size of a hair-tie than an armband when it cut off circulation. The dull ache disappeared, replaced by sharp pain. It was clear the band would cut right through her skin if it wasn't stopped.

Wanting to be defiant, but also wanting to get out of this with both of her arms intact, Lily opened her mouth.

"STOP." Dumbledore's quiet demeanor was nowhere to be found. She'd never seen this version of the headmaster, eyes wild with fury, brandishing his wand.

She and Finlay sagged as they felt immediate relief. Thank god.

Lily resisted the urge to rub her arm. Suddenly, the Great Hall doors flew open with a bang. More ministry workers strode in, wands out. Everyone, most students included, whipped their wands out as well. What the hell?

"Headmaster, stand down." To Lily's shock it was Mr. Potter, James' often-absent dad who worked in the Department of Mysteries. He put a calming hand on Dumbledore's arm and whispered something in his ear that made him lower his wand immediately.

"Gilbert, show me the authorization form that allowed you to come into a school, interrupt students in their learning, and put an experimental device on them," Mr. Potter thundered at his colleague. He looked eerily like his son when he was angry, Lily thought with a slight smile.

Gilbert seemed to shrink. "Mr. Potter, I was just signing these muggles up for the registry."

"Muggle-born wizards and witches," Mr. Potter corrected.

"They need to be signed up–"

"Say it."

His eyes darted around and he glared at his superior rebelliously. "I don't know what you mean."

"Say it."

He drew back nervously in the face of Mr. Potter's wrath and was silent for a long moment.

"Muggle-born," he finally conceded, although not completely. "I was under the impression–"

"Right," the department head sneered, refusing to let him continue making excuses. "Under the impression that your department can do whatever the bloody hell you want. Well I'm here to tell you you're wrong. Show me the form or get out."

Gilbert hemmed and hawed, his tan face now pasty white. Clearly, Potter was the senior official here. Finally, he turned to Dumbledore. "This isn't over." Breathing noisily through his nose, he stomped out of the room. The rest of the wizards who had come with him looked nervously from Potter to the door, clearly wondering who to go with.

"LET'S GO!"

Gilbert's scream made them jump and stream out of the Great Hall. Lily and Finlay immediately ripped the armbands off, inspecting the damage. Just wicked bruises, it looked like.

"I'm so sorry about this, Albus." Mr. Potter sighed and ran a beleaguered hand through his hair, again mirroring his son. "Department of Muggle Relations, my ass. Gilbert is a menace. An idiot, but a menace nonetheless."

Dumbledore inclined his head, and turned to the students, who were still gathered against the wall in shock. "You all know the times we live in, and the danger you are in simply for being the way you are. I want to stress that Hogwarts is always a safe place for you, and that I knew help was on the way." He motioned to Lily and Finlay. "I had to let him think he was winning. I'm sorry that it got that far."

Lily nodded stiffly, not inclined to let him off the hook that easily. It wasn't his arm that was black and blue. Finlay also watched him warily.

"I won't lie to you," he continued. "The Ministry is not done meddling at Hogwarts. Things will get worse before they get better. However, you are always welcome here."

Dumbledore's piecing gaze landed on Lily and Finlay again. "Today was necessary, but next time we won't be caught unaware." He looked back at the rest of the group. "You may take the rest of the afternoon off."

The students hurried away, whispering amongst themselves. How many of them would leave tonight? How many of them would have nightmares of choking bands and muggle-born work camps? Lily's shoulders sagged. How could this be happening?

Finlay gave Lily a brief hug and then left, undoubtedly to find his girlfriend. He'd been dating Meredith, a 6th year Slytherin, for a few years now. "Get Madame Pomphrey to look at your arm!" she called after him, knowing he wouldn't do it. He gave a distracted wave.

"Well this isn't the way I wanted to meet my son's girlfriend."

Lily started in surprise. "Oh, Mr. Potter! It's, um, nice to meet you."

The silver-fox version of James walked over, and Lily knew she never had to worry about James becoming unattractive. James had told her a lot about his parents, and she knew they knew about her. He'd had been hinting at her spending the upcoming holidays with them, but no plans had been made. No time like the present, she thought.

"I'm sorry it wasn't a more pleasant occasion." He gave her a warm smile, despite the solemn look in his eyes.

She opened her mouth to thank him for interrupting whatever was about to happen, when they heard James.

"Dad?" They both turned as he shouted into the Great Hall and hurried over, confusion on his face. "What are you doing here? Is mom ok?"

Mr. Potter gave him a firm clap on the shoulder. "It's good to see you too. Everything's fine, son. Lily here can fill you in while I meet with your headmaster. Then, perhaps we grab a drink so I can interrogate this girl we've only heard about since first year." He winked at Lily, and James' face turned bright red.

"Dad!" His whine was so teenager, Lily had to laugh. Sometimes she forgot they weren't adults, yet.

Mr. Potter only grinned. "I'll meet you down here in an hour."

"Yeah, yeah," James grumbled. "Humiliate me and then run away."

Sirius waved merrily to Mr. Potter as they passed each other outside of the Great Hall doors. He made his way over to Lily and James, who had taken a seat at one of the tables. "What's your dad doing here?"

James raised his eyes at Lily. "What was he doing here? If you were asking my father's blessing for marriage, you're not very sneaky at it."

Her cheeks flamed, and now it was her turn to sound like an embarrassed teenager. "James!"

He and Sirius grinned at each other.

"Well as the best man, I'll help you pick out a ring. That's the muggle thing to do, right?"

Lily shook her head and crossed her arms, wincing when her fingers brushed the bruise that must be forming under her sweater.

James' brows furrowed but Remus sat down with them before he could say anything.

"Hey, did you hear about– oh hey, Lily. How's your arm?" He yanked up her sleeve, revealing a nasty blue and green ring on her bicep.

"What happened?" James asked in horror, eyes riveted to the injury until she yanked down her sleeve, glaring at Remus. He took her arm and yanked it back up, fingers lightly skimming over the multi-colored skin. What the actual hell?

Lily laughed lightly, like it was nothing. "The Ministry came and tried to get us to wear some bullshit armbands. Luckily your dad came in time."

So that's why his dad was here. James rarely saw his dad at home, so all-consuming was his job in the Department of Mysteries, so it had been a huge shock to see him at school.

As Lily explained what had happened that afternoon, James felt sick to his stomach. That she could be treated like that… it was just preposterous. She was a better witch than many purebloods he knew. Gilbert Gibbons. He made a note of the name. Someday, he'd like to give that wanker a piece of his mind. Or his fist.

Remus shook his head. "It's all over the school. A lot of people thought they were taking you away."

"Yeah, I wondered that myself," Lily admitted. "But it's just this registry that's 'for our protection,'" she put in air quotes. "Or so they can track us down and pick us off, one at a time. Same difference."

Sirius turned sideways on the bench and laid back, hands behind his head. "Listen, Evans, if you ever need a quick getaway, my motorcycle is at your disposal."

James was half-ignoring the conversation, still preoccupied with her abused flesh. What would've happen if his dad hadn't come, he wondered? Her arm… he carefully replaced her sleeve, jaw clenched. "Fuck, I'm sorry Lily."

"Hey," she sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder, intertwining their arms. "You didn't do anything James. It's just…" he followed her gaze to the stained-glass windows. "The way things are right now."

He could see the stress on her face, the uncertainty about her future weighing her down. The Ministry was out of the question, obviously. Who would hire a muggle-born now? James wished she'd simply let him take care of her- god knows his family had more money than they knew what to do with- but he hadn't even considered offering that to his headstrong girlfriend. He knew a resounding "no" and maybe (probably) a smack in the face would be his answer.

Peter strolled in, hands in his pockets. His eyes went to Lily's arm; he must've heard.

"S'up guys?"

Sirius sat up and punched him in the side. "Where've you been?"

He glanced to the side. "Around. I didn't know what to do when Lily got pulled out of class–"

James pressed his lips together. Seriously, he didn't know what to do? Tell his frickin' friends, that's what he should do. Peter was one of his best friends but honestly, he needed to make some damn decisions once in a while.

"Yeah well we're going to meet my dad," he said coldly.

Peter's eyes went from him to Lily, then to the floor. "Ok. See you around."

James stared at him for one another moment. Where was the Peter he knew? Making a mental note to talk to his friend when he was less pissed off at him, he took Lily's hand and they started the walk toward Hogsmeade. It was a chilly December day. The snow crunched beneath their feet and the grey sky seemed to overlook them sadly. His warming spell had them in a cozy little bubble as they made their way down the hill.

"I would've told him not to tell you, you know," she began. "You always get so upset–"

He sighed out of his nose. Not this again. She was constantly excusing people's behavior when it came to her own safety. It was just like Regulus, and Snivellus, although not as much anymore. They were so insulated at Hogwarts and shit like this was still happening. What would happen when they graduated? How would he keep her safe?

Tugging one of the locks of hair that was escaping her Gryffindor beanie, James bent toward her and kissed the top of her head. "Lily, how many times do I have to–"

"I know I deserve to be safe, James," she interrupted, lightly elbowing him. "But telling you wouldn't have helped, this time. You would've stormed in there and made it worse. Your dad works with that guy. How would it look for his son to–"

"Stand up for what's right? Say no to the Ministry bullshit?"

"If Dumbledore couldn't do anything, you couldn't've," she reasoned so fucking reasonably, it made James' head hurt.

"I know! I know." He pulled her closer, wanting maximum contact even when he was pissed as all get out. "And don't think I'm going to let Peter off the hook. He's one of my best friends. If his girlfriend got kidnapped out of class–"

"I was hardly kidnapped, and he doesn't have a–"

"–then I would fucking well come and find him!"

James kicked at a convenient snowbank and it exploded in a shower of muddy brownish-white.

"Hey."

Lily pulled at his hand, stopping him in his tracks. She turned to face him, framing his face in her mitten-clad hands.

"I. Am. Fine."

"But you're not–"

"I. Am. FINE," she repeated.

He tried again. "No–"

Her hands pulled at his neck and suddenly his mouth was on hers, her body pressed up right against his. For a moment, just a moment, they blissfully forgot the Ministry, the school, their problems, and were just a regular seventh-year couple, making out on castle grounds.