Chapter Nine
Rumors and Gossip
The weekend seemed like a long time to wait. Harry and Ron would be arriving this afternoon to Hogwarts with Kingsley Shacklebolt and other Ministry officials to examine the crime scene further before Filch would be allowed to clean it. As she sat in Ancient Runes, already finished with her homework, she sat admiring the letter she received from Ron concerning the details of his mission. It was a short letter, hastily scratched, but it demonstrated that he was thinking of her enough to take a spare moment to write. It almost made her blush just thinking about it. She figured, however, that she should probably put her letter away and get a head start on her Potions essay. She exchanged books from her bag and unrolled her parchment that she had already labeled for the assignment. "Ethical Considerations Involving Polyjuice Potion…" She mouthed to herself with a smirk spread across her face. This would be an easy assignment.
Before she began to write, she glanced up for a moment, looking forward a couple of seats in the row next to her. He clearly was finished with his Runes assignment also because he spent his time furiously writing in that little black notebook of his. She set her quill down for a moment and propped her head up under her fist. He continued, oblivious, to the world for the next few minutes only occasionally glancing at a library book on his desk.
"That'll be all for today," Professor Babbling spoke up. "Make sure you complete your translation assignments and start reading chapter two for next session." The class filtered out of the room, not paying much attention to her instructions.
As Hermione gathered up her books, Avalon walked by with a large stack in his arms. She looked up, glancing at the titles, reading them aloud. "A Guide to Medieval Sorcery. Theories of Charms. And of course—a light read— A Study into the Possibility of Reversing the Actual and Metaphysical Effects of Natural Death, with Particular Regard to the Reintegration of Essence and Matter."
He shrugged heavily with the books in his arms. "Pleasure reading."
"Oh, and Quidditch Throughout the Ages." She said, looking at the book at the bottom. "That's one of Ron's favorites."
"Academic endeavors," He said with a smirk.
She finished packing and began to walk out of the classroom with him. "So you hope to become a Spell Inventor someday?"
His eyes bulged. "How did you…"
"I saw your magazine article," She interrupted with a smirk.
His nose wrinkled which made her laugh. "Which one?" He asked.
"The latest one in Charmed magazine."
"Oh," He said, disdainfully. "I'm surprised they got it right this time. They usually say Hit Wizard or Minister of Magic or Complete Prat."
Hermione chucked for a moment. "What made you want to be a Spell Inventor?"
They weaved through a crowd of students before he answered her. "My dad was a Spell Inventor—but it's not just that." He paused in front of a window looking towards the bright blue sky. "Magic has been used to do all sorts of awful things—terrible and horrible things. There are all sorts of evil and vile things wizards and witches have done to one another." He looked back towards her, locking eyes with her. "I don't think the beauty and wonder of magic has been explored enough. I think we have only just scratched the surface of its potential." He held up his wand and gave it a sharp flick. Out from his wand stemmed a bouquet of beautiful flowers. He handed them to her.
She nodded slowly as she took the flowers. She had seen the darkness of magic—especially over the past year: horcruxes, unforgivable curses, vile potions, and cruel intentions. If only so much energy would have been channeled for good, what could have been possible she pondered while smelling the sweet essence of the flowers.
He took a deep and refreshing breath. "Shall we head off to Herbology?"
She nodded with a smile.
The two of them continued through the castle, walking by a group of third year girls. They turned their heads as the two walked by and began to chatter furiously after the two were gone.
It was an usually brisk and chilly morning in Hogsmeade as the three of them shivered in the morning air. The Three Broomsticks was empty at such a time as nine in the morning. Madame Rosmerta, setting up shop behind the counter, greeted them with a smile. "What'll be, boys?"
"Just a butterbeer for me," Harry said, taking a seat at a wooden table up front.
"No breakfast?" She asked to which he shook his head.
Ron, feeling a little resentful being called a boy, swaggered up to the counter and put his elbow down on it. "And I'll have a firewhisky…"
"No, you won't!" Rosmerta snapped. "It's nine in the mornin'!"
"Yes, ma'am." Ron sat down defeated.
"Butterbeer, please." George took a seat.
"And what will you be havin', dear?" She looked at back of Ron's head.
"Butterbeer," He mumbled.
It was just then that the door rang and in came the Minister himself. He looked tired around the eyes but energetic and enthused none the less. He removed his purple hat and outer robe, hanging them on the coat tree, before stepping out of the doorway.
Behind him was the most massive person Harry had ever seen that still probably would not classify as having giant or troll blood in him. He was very tall, having to stoop over to enter. His arms were long and thick. His feet, covered in black combat boots, clanked against the wooden floor. His brown hair was short and buzzed off but his eyebrows were thick and dark.
Harry and Ron's eyes bulged at the sight of him, and swore that he almost heard George squeak. "He looks a like Green Beret," Harry whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"What's a Green Beret?" Ron whispered back, not familiar with the Royal Marines.
"Nevermind," Harry kept his eyes on the large stranger He didn't look that old at all, not more than a few years older than himself, but he was most certainly fed a lot more than Harry ever was as a child.
"Ah, thank you, Madame," The Minister said after giving his order to Rosmerta. He took a seat down at the table with the three. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Thor Reid." He motioned to the large man behind him that didn't need a motion towards. "He'll be working with you on this assignment."
"Oh, wonderful," Ron said with a smile. When he had a chance when Madame Rosmerta came with the drinks, he turned to Harry. "I'm not sharing a bunk bed with him!"
"Who said anything about bunk beds?" Harry asked, confused.
"One gillywater for the Minister, three butterbeers for the boys, and a firewhisky for Mr. Reid," She said as she placed the drinks in front of them.
Ron was about to protest until he saw Thor pick up his glass, drink in one fell swoop, and show no signs of being affected by the strong drink. He stared agape, pointing at the large man.
Harry reached out and put Ron's arm down. "Anyway, Minister, what is it that you'd like us to do today?"
"Well, first," He nodded to George. "Mr. Weasley will need to set up shop as soon as possible. I want you three to also help him. I will send a Ministry maintenance crew to also help with the endeavor. While the three of you run the shop, I want you to keep an eye out for suspicious activity."
Ron finally found some courage to speak again. "Kingsley, why us? I still don't understand it."
"Who was it, tell me, who discovered all by themselves that You-Know-Who was after the Sorcerer's Stone? And who was it who unraveled the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets—saving a girl's life? And who was it that kept…"
"Alright, alright, we get it," Ron said.
"I'm frankly astonished, and a bit flattered, you'd put so much trust in us," Harry said.
"I know good men and women when I see them. And besides, you've more than proven yourselves." After taking a sip of his drink, he set the glass down firmly and stood up. "I want you all to come up to the castle with me to examine the crime scene. After that, you can set to work on the shop. I'm sure the Ministry crew will have started by then."
Almost as fast as they had arrived, they were leaving for a trip up to the castle. Ron quickly chugged his butterbeer while George and Harry left theirs behind. The Minister graciously paid for everyone's drinks and they left the Three Broomsticks to begin their work.
Mid-afternoons on Mondays were a joyous treat to her. She finished her last class at two in the afternoon and did not have any obligations until dinner time. She supposed later in the semester this time would get filled with homework, but for now, there wouldn't be any harm in going outside for a few hours. Clutched in her hand was one of her most prized possessions—her broomstick.
"And where are you going?"
Flinching from guilt, Aurora slowly turned around at the sound of a most familiar voice. "Aunt…Professor…I…er…" She blushed under the watchful gaze of her stern Aunt.
McGonagall, however, looked down at the broomstick in Aurora's hands. The gleam of the golden logo still flickered brightly. "I remember when I gave this to you."
"I was ten." Aurora smiled, remembering the joy of that moment. She rubbed her thumb over the Nimbus Two-Thousand label. "It was the best present ever."
"I'm glad to see its still in good condition." McGonagall said, almost flinching at the thought of Harry's broom being smashed by the Whomping Willow. "Then again, girls usually take better care of their possessions than boys."
Aurora looked confused but didn't say anything. She did not know that her Aunt had also bought Harry Potter a broomstick also at the same time.
"I suppose I should go back inside and finish my essay…"
"Unless your conscious is guilty, don't let me stop you, Miss McGonagall."
Aurora bit her lip for a moment. Her conscious wasn't saying anything until her Aunt reminded her of it, and she was trying really hard to drown its voice out with the joyous feeling of flying.
Up the stairs came a group of students fresh out of class. Aurora caught sight of the Slytherin boy who showed much interest in her. She had hoped he didn't see her, but it proved to be fruitless as he seemed to be heading in her direction.
"Something wrong?" The Headmistress asked, noting the panicked look that washed over Aurora's face.
"I have to go." She backed away. "You know, I think I will finish that essay on Dittany. I'll just be heading back to the Common Room."
The Headmistress looked absolutely confused as her niece ran away. She was soon joined by an equally confused Cain Rigel carrying his school books. The Professor looked at the boy for a moment, seeing his disappointed face. "Afternoon, Mr. Rigel."
He seemed a little dazed. "Afternoon, Professor." He said. He walked away looking a bit saddened.
Minerva pondered for a moment at the unusual circumstance until it dawned on her. "Oh!" She gasped. Her niece had a crush on a Slytherin.
Harry, Ron, the Minister, and massive Thor Reid stood in a line looking at the doorway to the Entrance Courtyard. The message, and threat, was still there in dark read letters staring back at them. Each wondered, as they stared upon it, if this was to be taken serious or not. Was it a joke? An angry ranting? A threat? Or a true warning?
Harry stepped forward, feeling his resolve firming. "Mr. Minister, we will do everything in our power to find out who did this."
"I know you will."
"Kingsley!" The Headmistress called out.
"Good to see you, Minerva," He said while greeting her with a kiss on each cheek. "Are you well?"
The Headmistress looked to the door. "No, not after this."
"Understandable." The Minister nodded. "But we do have precautions in place to which I mentioned in my letter…"
McGonagall nodded, stopping him from saying anything further. She turned to Harry and Ron, who had looked like they aged so much in her eyes in the past couple of months. "Potter. Weasley," was the only thing she managed to say, but her emerald green eyes sparkled.
"Professor," They said in unison.
She took a deep breath and folded her hands together. "I suppose you both would like to join us for dinner tonight?"
Ron eyes glazed over thinking of all the delicious things that would likely be on the menu tonight. Harry answered for the both of them, saying that they would attend.
"Of course, your acquaintance is also welcome," McGonagall looked to Thor. "And you also Minister."
Kingsley shook his head. "Afraid I can't. Perhaps another night." He rolled up his purple sleeves. "Afraid I need to be getting back to London." He looked to Harry, Ron, and Thor. "This is where I'll leave you. Perhaps a stroll around the castle—you know, for old times sake—will do you a bit of good?" He said with a suspicious glint in his eye.
Harry nodded, realizing that he was supposed to look for clues.
"What good would that do?" Ron asked.
A muffled growling noise came from Thor's direction and Ron instantly quieted down.
Kingsley walked away and McGonagall turned to the three young Aurors in her presence. "I do say that you should take the Minister's advice and have a walk before dinner. Good exercise. I bit you farewell." She nodded and walked away.
"I wonder where we should get started," Harry pondered aloud when it was just the three of them.
"How about upstairs?" Ron suggested.
"Downstairs," Thor, speaking for the first time, said with a growl.
"Downstairs it is!" Ron gulped.
The three of them spread out, keeping their wands close, started to make their way around the room.
There was a gasp at the top of the stairs leading to the Grand Staircase. Ron looked up. "Hermione," He gasped, breathlessly.
"Ron," She said, hardly above a whisper.
Harry stood staring for a moment while his two best-friends were staring at one another. He pushed his glasses up his nose while watching the reaction on Ron's face very carefully. He was painfully reminded that he did not have things sorted out with Ginny as clearly as they probably should be. His stomach started to churn. He suddenly felt a quick thump on his shoulder. Thor pointed towards an exit off the entrance hall that led downstairs. They left Ron behind.
It wasn't until after Harry and Thor descended down the stairs that Ron raced up to Hermione, jumping two steps at time, to catch her in his arms. She dropped her school bag—books, quills, and parchment flying all over the place as he spun her around.
"Ronald!" She scolded with a gasp, trying to fight a fit of giggles.
After he finished twirling her around one more time, he set her down with a large grin on his face. "So where's this World's Greatest Snog you promised me the next time we saw each other?"
She blushed, remembering a recent letter she had sent him. "I didn't expect it to be so soon."
"Well, it is—so—what are you going to do about it?"
Hermione turned around, hearing faint voices of students approaching. "Not here. It's too…we can't…its school rules…you know…"
Ron looked disappointed but he slightly nodded in acceptance. "Alright, Hermione, I und…"
"Oh, to hell with it!" Hermione lunged forward and captured Ron in a passionate kiss.
"Hermione!" He exclaimed, surprised that she had cursed, once he had a moment of breath.
She put her hand under his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Shut up and kiss me."
"Alright," He shrugged his shoulders with a big grin and followed her command.
They managed to break away just before students started pouring into the entrance hall. She straightened her robes and raised her head regally. "No spell work outside designated areas!" She hollered to a third year boy looking ready to jinx someone. She gently cleared her throat. "Good day, Ronald." She started to walk away.
"Hermione?"
"Yes," She turned around still looking rather regal and sophisticated.
He pointed down to the floor. "You forgot your bag,"
"Oh, yes." She turned a furious shade of scarlet red.
It was in the teachers lounge before dinner that the Headmistress was to speak to her faculty about some of the plans that the Minister had laid before her. As she rehearsed what exactly it was she was going to say to them, other thoughts interrupted her concentration. She sighed deeply as she walked down the corridor, oblivious to the greetings from many of the portraits. It seemed like only yesterday that her niece was a little girl, dangling off her broomstick to show her tricks. Of course, the Headmistress smiled as she pondered upon this, it seemed only like yesterday also that the girl's mother was just a young child turning her first teacup into a mouse.
It still was a few minutes before the meeting so she wasn't surprised to find the lounge mostly empty. Professor Vector sat at one of the tables in deep concentration mouthing the numbers she was trying to add up in her head. Madame Hooch was over at the kitchen area brewing herself a drink while surprisingly Professor Trelawney sat, looking rather out of place, having tea with Pomona Sprout. Madame Pince the Librarian, and Madame Pomfrey the Nurse also sat at the same table playing a game of cards. The Headmistress wearily sat down.
"Everything all right, Minerva? You're looking a bit pale. Sure you're not coming down with something?" Madame Pomfrey examined the Headmistress carefully before laying any cards down.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." The Headmistress insisted.
"Sounds like the sigh of the deep distressed, crying out to be heard. The Inner Eye can see the emotions that one tries so desperately to hide."
Everyone glanced over at Trelawney as she said this casually and matter-of-factly. She shrugged and took a sip of her tea.
"Is something wrong?" Professor Sprout asked. "Is it about the message on the door…"
"No, I'll get to that later." Minerva waved her hand while shaking her head. "It's not about any of that right now…"
"Then, pray tell us, what is it?" Madame Pince said.
"Yes, Minerva, tell us," Pomfrey added before her cards started screaming at her to make a move. She shot her hand of cards a dirty look, and they quieted down.
Professor McGonagall gave a deep sigh. "It's Aurora."
"Is something the matter with the girl?" Madame Hooch joined the conversation with her cup of tea.
"She seems a bit distracted, but not any more than I'd expect her to be after what the poor dear has been through. Her grades have been well in my class, and she seems to get along fair enough with the other students." Professor Sprout said.
"Yes, she's taken a real liking to Miss Granger and Miss Weasley," Madame Pince said. "I see them studying together in the library."
"So then, what's the matter?" Professor Vector looked up from her work.
McGonagall gave another sigh. "She's in love—or at least falling in it."
There were an instantaneous "awes" from the professors. They all circled up around the Headmistress and leaned in closer.
"So who's the lucky young man?" Madame Pomfrey set down her cards which started to yell at her again.
McGonagall nodded for a moment, pondering the wonder of it all. "Cain Rigel."
"Cain Rigel?" Professor Sprout questioned. "He's a sixth year—and a Slytherin." She looked over at the Headmistress, biting her lip.
"Yes," McGonagall said darkly.
"Well, he always seemed like a nice boy." Madame Hooch said. "Doesn't cause any problems and keeps his nose clean during Quidditch."
Madame Pince folded her arms and huffed. "Well, I did catch him once with a Chocolate Frog in the library!"
The other teachers stared for a moment. What seemed like a crime punishable by death to Madame Pince was little more than a minor offense to them.
"You're not sure where the Slytherins stand as far as Hogwarts is concerned, are you?" Professor Vector spoke up, gaining respect from the others once again for her intelligence.
"Yes, that's exactly what I wonder, Septima." The Headmistress sighed again. "I admit that I struggle a bit—my whole family for generations have been under the banner of Godric Gryffindor. It would be difficult to see…"
"But Matilda married a Muggle. Surely it mustn't bother you anymore." Madame Pince said.
McGonagall shrugged. "I'm afraid that I let it bother me more than it should have. I wasted so many years arguing and squabbling with my niece when I should have accepted her choice. I want to do the same with Aurora, but this time…"
The door to the teacher's lounge swung open and in came Professor Flitwick, Slughorn, and Fickle chatting. McGonagall looked to the ladies. "Another time."
Next to Phaedrus Fickle, Professor Slughorn seemed like a tall and athletic being. The new Muggle Studies professor had walked into the room carrying a small stack of books, but nearly tripped over his own feet and landed upon the table where the ladies where having tea. Still having her reflexes from her Quidditch days, Madame Hooch managed to move some of the tea cups out of the way before the great spill.
"Sorry, sorry!" Professor Fickle squeaked while he hurriedly tried to gather his split books. "Oh, Miss Trelawney," He fiddled with his crooked glasses, pushing them up his short nose. "What a pleasure to see you out of your tower!"
Professor Trelawney waved in her hands in a mystical fashion and took a deep sniff of the air, as if there were a delightful fragrance around. "The air is unusually clear today for the sixth sense. I found the Inner Voice leading me to descend to the depths below…"
Professor Fickle's baby blue eyes widened.
"Oh, really?" Madame Pomfrey spoke up. "It was a faculty memo for me."
Professor Sprout almost choked on her tea.
Ninox entered next grumbling under his breath while Professor Babbling and Mirkwood followed shortly after. As more Professors starting pouring into the room for the meeting, McGonagall stood up and headed to the front of the room to address her faculty.
Hermione had entered the Great Hall earlier than usual for dinner. Instead of taking her bag all the way upstairs to Gryffindor Tower, she instead came to dinner and started working on the homework recently assigned in Potions class. As much as the lady seemed frightening, Professor Mirkwood appeared to be a good teacher. She had assigned all the seventh years a special written assignment based off something that each student might come across in the career of their choice. Some students who wished to be Potion brews could write about an extremely complex potion or a particular potion they would like to work with someday. Hermione knew that Aurora was writing about the Healing Properties of Dittany since Aurora wished to become a healer. Hermione had chosen her subject during the course of the day (Ethics and Polyjuice potion) and now was about to start writing on her piece of parchment before she heard the faint sound of giggles across the hall.
Where giggles were, there usually was trouble. Hermione's quick eyes darted across the room, scanning for any signs of mischief, but she did not find any. Oddly, all she found were a pack of fourth and fifth year girls sitting at the Ravenclaw table talking animatedly and occasionally peaking over their shoulders to look at her. At first, Hermione thought they may be gathered around some love potion or note, but they seemed more interested in sneaking peaks at her. It was strange—she wasn't used to people wanting to stare at her all the time. Some of the girls immediately burst into giggles when they peaked at her while others had looks of cold resentment upon their faces. Hermione's brow rose for a moment, but she ignored the girls, and went back to her work.
Students started pouring in for dinnertime. She put her books away early instead of continuing to work, excited to see her two best friends. Soon enough, they appeared at the entrance, looking somewhat lost amidst the crowd despite having passed through those doors for six years. They spotted Hermione at the table and waved before coming over. Ron took the seat to Hermione's left while Harry sat across from them.
"It's good to see you," Hermione beamed at Harry.
He nodded, hardly containing his smile. "And you, Hermione."
"Where's that guy you were with?"
"Thor?" Ron said. "He didn't want to come, and that's probably a good thing."
"Why?" She asked.
"He'll eat all the food," Ron said.
Ginny's slender arms came around Harry's shoulders. "Welcome back," She said before plopping down next to Harry.
"Ginny," Harry breathed, feeling that unresolved guilt back in the pit of his stomach. "Good…good…to see you," He stuttered.
Ron looked around at the golden dinnerware and rubbed his hands together. "I wonder what we're having tonight! I can't wait!"
"Is that all you think about—food?" Ginny asked.
Ron looked offended. "What? I've been living off noodles heated with Incendio all summer!"
"The way mum tells it, you've both been flooing over for dinner at least three or four times a week."
"But there's like thirty-five meals a week that we've got to fend for ourselves."
"Twenty-one," Hermione corrected.
"Am I interrupting anything?" A skinny raven-haired girl approached holding a book in her arms.
"No, sit down," Ginny motioned. "My brother's just being an idiot!"
"What? I can't help it if I'm hungry all the time!"
Aurora took a seat next to Ron. "He must have been cursed—forever hungry and never satisfied."
"Exactly!" Ron said.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, Ron, this is Aurora McGonagall."
"Hello," Harry said.
"Hi," Aurora said back, a bit shyly, trying to avert her eyes from the scar on Harry's forehead, which Harry did appreciate the gesture no matter that she failed at keeping it hidden from him.
"You're related to Professor McGonagall?" Ron asked.
Aurora nodded. "Yes, she's my great-aunt."
Ron gave a heavy sigh. "I have a great-aunt—Muriel." He shuttered. "That woman will be the death of me—I know it! She told me that my nose was crooked." He pounded in fist into his hand. "I'll show her crooked…"
"Don't take it personally," Hermione chided. "That's what you said when she said that I had 'bad posture and skinny ankles.'"
"Oh, really? She said I had cankles." Ginny said, unabashed.
They all laughed, finding the argument going to a ridiculous place.
"Harry!" Jimmy Peakes called out
"What's up, man?" Ritchie Cootie patted him on the shoulder.
Harry greeted the two beaters that replaced the Weasley twins when he was still in school. Following right behind them was Avalon Stratford. He took a seat next to Ginny, a bit absent-minded, but he looked up and noticed two unfamiliar faces. His eyes widened. "You're Ron Weasley!" He said, pointing.
"Uh, yeah?" Ron said, looking completely shocked that his name was known, and even that he was noticed first.
"You fought Him," Avalon said in a bit of awe and wonder. He then turned and looked past Ginny at Harry. "And Harry Potter," He gasped a bit.
"Er—yes," Harry said, not knowing what else to say.
Avalon stuck out his hand and shook hands with both of them. "I still have the letter that you autographed for me. Fancy that you met my mum, isn't it?" He continued to look back and forth between them. "Perhaps we could have a chat sometime? I'd like to ask you some questions."
"About what?" Harry asked.
"Well…" Avalon started to flush a bit. He pointed to his own forehead. "About the scar…I mean…if…that's alright? I'm just curious. And well, other stuff too, of course."
"Er…I suppose so." Harry said.
"That'd be great. Thanks," Avalon said. He was cut off by the arrival of food upon the table. Ron's arms made a large sweeping motion, capturing all the varieties of food he wished to eat. He was already happily tucking into a slice of bread before anyone else even finished selecting what they wished to eat.
Avalon put a few raw carrots and celery slices onto his plate before handing the dish to Aurora without being asked. She looked at him a bit peculiar before taking the platter.
"Thought you wanted it—you know—because you're a vegetarian." He said, noticing the look on her face.
"Yes, thanks," She muttered, still a bit stunned that he remembered. She set the tray down and began to choose many of the vegetables upon it.
Before eating, Harry looked around the room. It seemed the same as always, students chatting noisily and joyously eating the delicious food prepared for them. He glanced up at the high table, however, and noticed many changes in the faculty. Where the Muggle Studies teacher usually sat, there was a short and plump man with a red bow tie around what little neck he had, but he beamed with a warm smile and radiance. In McGonagall's old spot sat an ancient looking wizard who had a face as if a dungbomb went off recently. In Snape's old chair, Slughorn sat merrily conversing with the professor next to him. On his other side, was a dark and ghastly witch who had her arms folded tightly as she surveyed the room. A silvery blondish haired professor with a patch over his eye sat at the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. As Harry looked, he caught eye with the Professor. The Professor nodded with a smile and Harry nodded back.
"Who's that?" Harry turned his attention back to the table.
"Who?" Hermione looked up where Harry motioned. "That's Professor Pascal—new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He's brilliant. I really think you'd like him, Harry."
"Yeah, he teaches us useful stuff," Ginny said. "Even offers outside help if anyone wants it."
Harry looked back towards the new teacher for a moment. "Must say I'm a little jealous that Hogwarts finally gets a good Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—well, besides Lupin."
"I think you should meet him sometime. He used to be something like an Auror for the German Ministry of Magic. Maybe you could meet him during a Hogsmeade visit?" Hermione suggested
"Uh, alright," Harry said.
"He's really impressed that many of us know how to perform the Patronus charm. I think he'd like to thank you for it," Ginny said.
Ron got a sly look on his face. "My patronus is a Jack Russell Terrier. What's yours?" He turned to Avalon.
The boy had just stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes but once he finished chewing he answered up. "It's a falcon."
"Oh, really?" Ron asked, a bit put out.
Avalon nodded. "Just like my dad."
"Harry's is a stag, just like his dad," Ginny said. "I wonder if that happens often. You know, the same one in the family."
"All my family are able to produce their patronus into the form of a cat." Aurora spoke up, feeling a bit nervous. "Mine is still in shield form," She tried to laugh as if it was a joke, but barely could get the sound out.
"It takes a lot of practice. It's a very advance form of magic." Hermione said, textbook like.
"Don't worry—I'll help you," Avalon blurted out. When all eyes fell on him, he turned a bit red. "We'll all help, won't we?"
The others nodded in agreement and turned away from him.
"Well, speaking of falcons—here comes one now." Ginny pointed up towards the ceiling. Not many owls arrived at dinnertime, making it easy to spot the smaller sized falcon zooming across the room. The bird gently dived down towards the table and gracefully landed with two hops in front of its master.
Avalon reached out taking the bird into his hands and beginning to untie the letter. He absentmindedly stroked the bird's chest while examining the letter.
"Something wrong?" Hermione asked, noticing the look on Avalon's face.
Avalon shook his head. "I don't recognize the handwriting. Must have come through the sorted mail. Odd though it didn't come in the morning." He broke the golden seal on the back and tore into the letter.
"What'cha got there?" Ritchie Cootie piped up from down table. Avalon did not answer as he read the letter.
"Let's see!" Jimmy Peakes snatched up the letter. "Dear Mr. Stratford," He read aloud in his most regal voice. "We are happy to inform you that you have been selected as the recipient for Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award for 1998." Jimmy gave the paper back.
Blushing a furious shade of red, Avalon forced himself into a smile, which all together made him look all the more charming. "You've even got a certificate and all." Ritchie Cootie piped up which only made the boy blush deeper.
"Well, how about that?" Ginny said to break the awkward pause.
"Well," Avalon sighed and looked away, taking a bite of his dinner. "I can't help it if I got such a charming smile…" He opened his mouth revealing globs of chocolate pudding all over his teeth.
Harry, Hermione, and Ginny burst into laugh, but Ron while his instinct had him laughing at first, he quickly stopped. Aurora pinched her lips together and turned away. Avalon noticed the various reactions and closed his mouth.
"That's gross," Ron exclaimed. "Don't even want any pudding now."
"Sorry," Avalon muttered, looking away.
"Ron," Hermione chided.
"So where you from Aurora?" Harry asked, trying to keep conversation going.
She looked up. "Wales—in the St. David's area."
Harry nodded. "Not too far from Bill and Fleur then."
"Oh, you're right." Ginny said. "That's my oldest brother and his wife," she added for Aurora's sake. Ginny nodded towards Aurora. "She plays Quidditch, you know."
"Oh, really?" Harry looked interested. "What do you play?"
"Keeper."
"Keeper?" Ron said, sounding slightly offended.
Aurora nodded. "Played keeper on a team ever since I was eight."
Harry looked confused. "How'd you play since you were eight? You have to be eleven to get into Hogwarts—and first years never made the team."
"Except you," Hermione added.
"Well—that's not the point," Harry said. "What team were you on?"
"It was in summer Quidditch league. A lot of towns form teams for all ages to play against one another. That's how most people play if they didn't make the Hogwarts teams, or if they were home-schooled like me." Aurora said.
Harry wondered why the Weasleys never mentioned playing in a summer Quidditch league, but he got his answer after hearing Ron mutter something about it being "too expensive."
"The youngest division was the 8-10 year olds so I played the earliest I could," Aurora said. "I've been playing ever since."
"Harry, you should come to tryouts—you too, Ron," Ginny said. "You can tell me who stinks from your point of view in the stands."
"Sounds like fun," Ron said. "That is if George will let us have the time off."
"Bring him too."
"Avalon plays Quidditch too," Hermione said. "What was it you played again?"
Ron looked from Hermione to Avalon and back and forth.
Avalon looked up again, a bit shyly. "Chaser. I used to play Seeker when I was little, but I grew too much. I like Chaser though."
"Yeah, I've done both myself," Ginny said. "I think I like Seeker better though."
"Dessert!" Ron exclaimed as the many of the main course and side dishes were replaced by decedent cakes, sweet cookies, fluffy pastries, and luscious tarts. He repeated his action with the main course and started making broad sweeps with his arms to capture all the desserts he wished to sample.
As Avalon reached for a cake, he noticed a shiny badge on Hermione's backpack with flashing letters. "What is S.P.E.W.?" He asked.
"It's S.P.E…" Ron started, but stopped. "Oh, wait, he got it right."
Hermione sat up straight. "S.P.E.W. stands for The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."
"I've never heard of it," He said.
"Hmm, that's a shame," Hermione said, disappointed her leaflet campaign did not have the impact she hoped it would. "S.P.E.W. was started four years ago to protect and promote the interest of Elfish kind and awake the Wizarding world to the cruel injustice and atrocities committed to house-elves."
"Yeah," Ron said. "It's about being nice to house-elves."
"It's about more than that, Ronald," She cleared her throat ready to begin a lecture. "House-elves have been given a poor working conditions and unfair treatment! It's slavery! That's what it is!"
"Can I have one of those badges?" He pointed at Hermione's. "I'll put it on my messenger bag."
"You want one? You actually want one?" Ginny looked a bit stunned.
He nodded. "Sounds like a good thing. Someone should be doing something, right?" He looked to Hermione. "How much does it cost?"
"Ten galleons," Ron blurted out.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Two sickles, but that buys you a membership into the society. You'll receive all rights and privileges of the organization, and I'm even starting up a newsletter."
"Rights and privileges?" Ron mouthed to Harry to which Harry shrugged.
"Great," Avalon said, reaching out his hand to take a badge from Hermione in exchange for two sickles. True to his word, he pinned the badge onto his bag.
"You want one too, Aurora?"
She looked up, a bit stunned from the whole thing. Her parents never had a house-elf, but she supposed there were some house-elves that were abused by their masters. "Alright," She nodded and turned to dig in her bag. "I don't think I have any money on me right now."
"I'll get it," Avalon dug into his robes and pulled out two more sickles.
"No, no, that's quite alright," She said, but he had already handed the coins to Hermione. She was given a badge and she muttered a "thank you' in Avalon's direction.
"This is great!" Hermione squealed excitedly. "Two new members!"
She knew it—sometimes she acted strong or tough to the outside world—but deep down inside, there were things that bothered her. She realized that, and feeling a sense of relief that he seemed to feel it too, made Ginny feel all the more confirmed. She stared over and over again at the little note he slipped her while saying goodbye at dinner.
I know we need to talk. I haven't forgotten about us—about you. When I get a chance to explain everything, I will.
Harry
She tucked the note safely away in her dresser and continued to get ready for bed. The other girls in the room were also preparing for bedtime. Others laid on their beds already dressed in nightclothes while chatting merrily with their friends. Hermione tried to untangle a knot in her hair with a brush, but she gave up and exchanged her brush for a wand instead. She gave a sharp flick and the knot was loosened with magic. Aurora finished her nightly routine and turned towards her bed. She had left her school bag on her bed. As she bent down to remove it, the S.P.E.W badge fell out. She picked it up and held it in her hand for a moment before setting it up on her dresser.
"Professor!" One of the girls said, a bit startled.
Aurora turned towards the doorway. In her long tartan nightgown, Professor McGonagall came up the steps and into the Girls Dormitory. The other seventh year girls, feeling a bit awkward, cleared out for the common room, but Hermione and Ginny stayed with Aurora.
Aurora felt a flush come to her face as she looked down at her tartan bed pants. "Is something the matter, Professor?"
McGonagall gently shook her head. "No, nothing's the matter." She slowly walked over to their side of the room, gently reaching out for one of the bedposts and swinging a bit on it. "Just seeing what's going on."
Aurora raised an eyebrow. "Okay,"
Professor McGonagall continued to walk forward. She sprawled out over Aurora's bed, laying on her stomach. "How are you all lately? Managing well?"
Hermione and Ginny dared not exchange glances. "We're fine," They both said in unison.
"And how about you?" McGonagall looked to her niece. "Any news? Anything exciting?"
Aurora shrugged. "I don't know. Just being at Hogwarts I suppose."
"Making any new friends?"
Aurora nodded towards Hermione and Ginny. "Well, I suppose we get along well, don't you say?"
Ginny nodded. "Yeah, suppose we do."
"Yes, of course," Hermione said.
"That all?" McGonagall sat up.
Aurora pondered for a moment. "My first Charms quiz went well."
"Oh, good! Good!" McGonagall said. She looked to Hermione and Ginny. "I presume Mr. Potter and Mr. Wealsey are well?"
The girls nodded again. "Yes."
"Now tell me, Miss Granger, would you classify you and Mr. Wealsey as an item?" McGonagall asked
"Yes," Hermione came to a light blush.
"Ah, well, young love," The Professor said in an airy voice. "I've been at Hogwarts many a season." She looked to Ginny. "I remember your parents courting back in the day."
"Oh, nice," Ginny muttered.
McGonagall looked over at Aurora. "And your mother—what a heart-breaker!"
"Huh?" Aurora looked confused.
"Your mother had a few admirers in her day-too many for my taste, in fact"
"Oh," The girl muttered, not knowing much about the other men her mother dated except for her father.
"It seems perhaps you might be the same way," McGonagall muttered quietly. Aurora happened to be in a yawn at the moment and didn't hear what her aunt said. She asked for a repeat, but the Professor shook her head and stood up. "Oh, never mind, ladies. I should let you all get to bed." She started towards the door. "I enjoyed this little chat though. Don't worry—what was said between us girls stays between us girls!" McGonagall left the room.
"Okay, that was the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life," Ginny said.
"Tell me about it," Aurora said. "And I've known her much longer."
"What was she doing?" Ginny asked.
Aurora crossed her arms over her chest. "Fishing for something. I'm not sure what though."
Hermione crawled unto her bed with Crookshanks, her mind spinning with thoughts.
