A/N: 27 July 2015 - Hello. Remember me? I sure hope you do and I do apologize for taking a month to get this to you. I've really got no excuse other than when I sat down to work on editing these next chapters, I decided to work on two WIPs I've got going. But I remembered my Kindle went I went to the gym this AM and got four chapters edited, so posting shall continue regularly. Hopefully.

Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.

Always Dragging That Horse Around

Nonverbal spells were expected of the sixth years in all classes where they did spell work. Draco did fine except in DADA, which was still a challenge to get the spells right without using his voice.

"You know, using ones voice to power spells gives it power, sometimes," Hermione offered after one especially hard lesson. "There is power in speech. Maybe you've got some of that and that's why you're having such trouble with the DADA spells, as they have more emotions behind them than Charms or Transfiguration spells."

Draco frowned.

"Atlanta and Addy have a certain power behind their words," Tom offered. "Atlanta more so than Addy. Addy, while having this power, never honed it to the extent that Atlanta did. Didn't you ever notice if she sang, people reacted?"

"Yes," Harry quickly said. "That was magic?"

Tom nodded, shifting through his school bag on their way to the Tower.

"Yes. I wrote a paper on it, actually. It was never published," Tom complained, letting out an annoyed noise as he failed to find what he was looking for. "I had theories that Muggles also had the power, as I believe that all peoples have some measure of magic, it is just something in our DNA that allow us to access it where Muggles don't. It explains Muggleborns."

Hermione stared at Tom with large eyes.

"But, that's not my area of expertise, so one really wanted to publish it, nor was there enough evidence to really back up my claims. Wizards don't research DNA and such. And I didn't really have the access to various people to do such research as a Not Ghost. I must return to Professor Vector's classroom. I've misplaced my notes."

Without further ado, Tom turned and stomped off.

"Fascinating," Hermione muttered.

"Well, at least you can do spells in Transfiguration and Charms," Harry said loudly to Draco. "I can't do any."

Harry was one of the many sixth years who spent his free time looking as if he had overdosed on U-No-Poo while trying to get non-verbal spells to work.

"And now I've got to worry about being Quidditch Captain on top of all this," Harry went on. "Tryouts are tomorrow. I might be sick."

"Tomorrow morning?" Hermione asked as they entered the Great Hall.

"Yeah."

Harry was channeling his fourth year self with the shade of green he was turning.

"I was going to suggest we go see Hagrid. We've not had the time and he's stopped coming to meals," Hermione said, motioning to the empty spot at the Head Table where Hagrid's large form was MIA.

"Why'd he stop coming?" Harry wondered, as they sat down at the table.

"Likely because none of us took Care of Magical Creatures. Did anyone in our year continue on?"

"Neville," Draco instantly said. Harry and Hermione both stared at Draco as if he'd lost his mind. "What? He did. He likes it."

"I still have nightmares about skrewts," Harry muttered darkly. "And who knows what he'd want us to do about Grawp."

"Well, we didn't exactly teach him English," Hermione reminded Harry. "I hate not talking to Hagrid."

"We'll go down after Quidditch," Harry assured her. "But, trials might take all morning. Have you seen the list?"

Harry pulled out a two foot long parchment filled with names of those who wished to tryout for Gryffindor.

"I hate being popular."

Draco snorted.

"I'm serious. Not all of these people are all serious about Quidditch. They just want to ogle me."

"Well, you did grow two inches," Hermione sweetly offered.

"Finally. I'm still short. I'm as tall as you."

"I'm average for a female," Hermione teased.

Harry pouted.

"If you were any taller then you'd suck at a Seeker," Draco felt the need to point out. "Five foot five is about the limit. Any taller and it throws everything off and you get too heavy."

Harry grumbled, but didn't outright complain.

"Well, just suck it up. You're more interesting than usual and you've never been more fanciable," Hermione blithely said.

Harry choked on the large piece of chicken he'd just bitten into.

"Everyone knows you were telling the truth, don't they?" Hermione went on as if Harry hadn't almost suffered Death By Chicken Leg at the dinner table. "The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you're right that Marv is back and that you've fought him twice in the past two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One'— well, come on, can't you see why people would fancy you?"

"I am the Chosen One," Harry snarked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They don't know that, though, do they?"

"I can tell them."

"You best not," Tom said, appearing next to Harry and taking his seat at the table. "Make your fans even more rabid."

Harry gave Tom a dark look and kicked him under the table. Tom grunted.

"Did you find your notes?"

Tom nodded. "So, are you looking forward to running tryouts?"

"I noticed you didn't put your name down," Harry teased, elbowing Tom in the side. "Oh, come on. Don't you wanna join my fan club?"

Tom choked on his own spit and stared at Harry.

Hermione giggled.

Draco wanted to be elsewhere.

The next morning after breakfast, Draco grabbed his broom and headed to the pitch. He was joined by half of Gryffindor house, plus some people who weren't even in Gryffindor.

"Urg. McLaggen is trying again," Ginny complained, coming to stand next to Draco. "Oh, and thanks for letting me keep this."

She held up Draco's former Firebolt. He shrugged. "It serves you better than me."

"It reset itself finally," she admitted. "I don't think it wanted to let you go."

Draco snorted. "If you say so. I'll stick with my Nimbus 2001."

While the Firebolt was a great broom, Draco preferred the Nimbus line. The Firebolt had too much power for Draco's liking and turned too quickly.

Upon getting rid of the people who weren't actually in Gryffidnor, Harry set the lot of them flying in a basic test around the pitch once. Ginny and Draco were in the first group to finish, but quite a few failed to make it around once. There was a group of first years who didn't know how to fly yet, one boy crashed straight into the goal post, and another girl flew straight into the stands as she clearly didn't know or understand one had to steer. There was also a group of silly girls who merely giggled, clutching one another and not flying anywhere. There was a group that had a major pileup half way around and never managed to untangle themselves.

Harry dismissed all these people and kept the group who made it around without crashing.

It still took another two hours, and a lot of complaints and a few tantrums, but Harry had himself a team. Draco had been made a Chaser (finally), along with Katie Bell, and Ginny Weasley (who seemed massively pleased to not be a Seeker and Draco knew the feeling). The Beaters weren't as impressive or as brilliant as Fred and George, but they were better than Draco. Jimmy Peaks, a third year who'd managed to raise a lump the size of an egg on Harry's head, and Ritchie Coote, a weedy boy who had great aim with a bat. Keeper was returned to Jake Sloper, who hadn't actually out goal tended McLaggen, but no one wanted a repeat of last year.

When McLaggen put up a fight, Harry shouted, "That's my final decision and if you don't get out of the way, I'll hex you!"

McLaggen appeared as if he was going to continue to fight till he realized the entire stadium was still filled with the people who'd been rejected and it was silent. So, he stalked off the pitch.

Draco headed towards where Hermione was waiting, noticing the gaggle of giggling girls eyeing him for some reason. He gave them a strange look as he met Hermione. He threw his arm around Hermione's shoulder and kissed her temple, before steering her away to wait for Harry outside the stadium.

"You didn't stay long enough to find out the first practice," Hermione pointed out.

"Harry will tell me," Draco said.

"You could have your own fan club," Hermione gently teased.

"I don't want a fan club."

Hermione chuckled as Harry caught up to them.

"We're meeting on Thursday," he said to Draco, narrowing his eyes. "You know it doesn't look very good for me if you run off before we're done."

"Sorry," Draco drawled. "I didn't enjoy the looks your fans were giving me."

"No, you just wanted to run off with your girlfriend," Harry grumbled, stomping off.

Draco colored and glanced at Hermione. She looked completely normal, except for the small smile on her lips as she drifted off almost dreamily after Harry. Feeling embarrassed but pleased, Draco followed.

Remus sighed, kneading the space between his eyes where a headache was forming. While not unfamiliar with headaches leading to the full moon, he was in the middle of the moon cycle and knew this headache was born from dealing with TR DeVinette's mail. While he'd been acting as Tom's secretary for years (especially after Atlanta had begun school full time), it seemed recently more fanatics had come out. He'd had his fifteenth Howler of the day explode from the pile. He wished they'd all explode at the same time instead of going off every hour.

"Wow, this is a clinically white room."

Remus looked up from his desk and saw Addy standing in the doorway, looking rumbled as if she'd just woken, even though it was the middle of the afternoon. In the past weeks since she'd returned to the flat, she'd never ventured up to the second floor where Remus lived.

"I noticed you've installed a kitchen."

"Yes, well the bedroom was annoyingly large," Remus offered. "I don't need this much room plus another one really."

He motioned around the office, which he realized was clinically white like a hospital room. He'd not really thought about it when he'd stripped the room of the lime green paint. He'd meant to magic up another color, but he'd simply gotten caught up in keeping TR DeVinette alive and well whilst Tom was off being a Hogwarts student.

"Yeah, well, I don't need the entire flat downstairs to myself," Addy gently said, reminding him he'd not set foot downstairs since he'd returned from the empty field in Scotland where he suffered the moon. "Anyway, I'm not here to bother you about avoiding socialization, but rather to ask you a favor."

"Oh?" Remus asked, turning around in the chair to face her.

"Yeah. You can say no if you want, but I'd like to train my voice."

Remus knitted his eyebrows together.

"I saw the whole voice magic when I met Calliope Riddle," Addy said carefully and quietly. "She wasn't actively even using it when the three of us hung out in that music room, but there was still magic pouring out of her mouth."

"That's why…"

"I suggested gently you train up your daughter so she'd become Calliope Riddle?" Atlanta cringed. "Yeah, kinda. I don't have that power, but the potential's there and I…I wanna scream at Voldemort and I want him to feel it in his bones."

Remus pushed himself away from the desk and braced his hands on his knees. He studied the woman standing in the doorway. It was bizarre and weird to know on some level that biologically, he was this woman's father and yet the relationship his other self had had with the woman was vastly different from the relationship he'd known with his version of his daughter.

And that was thanks to Addy. He'd never really thought about how he'd wound up being Atlanta's nanny and tutor. Circe Hilderbatch had only heard Remus liked the name because Addy's death was proclaimed and on the front page of the paper he'd been reading that morning. He'd only wound up taking an active part in the child's life because he'd happen to be at the werewolf sanctuary at that precise time and he'd only been there because, well, because he had no where to go after he and Sirius broke up and felt the need to avoid everyone.

"Did I spend anytime at the sanctuary during the war the first time? During your timeline?"

Addy made a face he was coming to realize was her Oops-I-Changed-the-Timeline-Again face.

"I might have hinted to Dumbledore you would do some good recruiting there more so than wherever he had sent you originally," Atlanta admitted. "I mean, he didn't send you there till after I was dead, but still. I think you didn't meet my mom until I was older, when you turned up after hearing about it through the grapevine about the family needing a tutor and getting enough money together to make the journey."

"Thank you," Remus breathed. "I will never be able to thank you enough."

Addy frowned.

"I'm serious. You didn't know…you didn't know she'd die, or we'd be unable to really fix what was wrong with her when you met her."

"I knew she was going to be tortured by Moldy Trousers."

"That was already a fixed event when you met her," Remus pointed out. "You simply assured she had the tools to survive the ordeal and return."

Addy shifted uncomfortably.

"Atlanta," Remus said, using her given name, "I was with my daughter from shortly after her birth until her last day on this Earth. All because of you and Draco."

Addy looked up at him sharply.

"I am serious," Remus insisted. "I raised my daughter, I knew her well, I saw her grow into a gorgeous person."

Atlanta gave him a sad look.

"I know she never got to be a woman, and I know she…she was so strong, Addy. Whatever was dealt towards her, she conquered it. I have no doubt she tried to conquer death in her own way."

"She went out singing," Addy said quietly. "I pieced that together from what the others were able to tell me. But…it makes sense."

Remus snorted. "That is does. Before…before Voldemort…she sang all the time. Constantly to the annoyance of some."

"I got the feeling," Addy softly murmured. "I know it's kind of lame to say if she can do then I can, but technically…if she could, I can."

"She had eleven years of training," Remus pointed out. "If things go as planned, we'll be facing Voldemort in some form this summer, or maybe next."

"Yeah, I know," Addy said, flopping her arms to the side and looking at a loss, "but, I want to try. And, well, you're the only musical person I know."

Remus stared at her blankly.

"Unless you've forgotten how to play the piano," Addy added, looking horrified at the thought.

"No, I've not forgotten."

"I haven't heard you play since…1977. Or '78."

Remus snorted. "I've not played since Atlanta died, but this is a good as anytime to begin again. I do need a break from Tom's hate mail."

"He still gets hate mail? God, the guy hasn't gotten any likable since he met Harry?"

Remus chortled humorously. "Tragically, no. He keeps all that niceness for Harry alone and continues to thrust his horrible persona on the world."

Remus stood up, cracking his knuckles, then stretching his stiff fingers. Addy bounced a few times in the doorway before charging off towards the piano in the hall. Remus had always wondered why she and Tom had had an expensive, rather lovely, piano installed upstairs where neither of them lived, yet after Atlanta had moved in, Remus had a feeling it had been up there for them.

"Where are we gonna start?" Atlanta asked, looking at the black and white keys greedily.

"With scales. I need to figure out your range," Remus said, sitting down on the bench. It magically adjusted to his height, getting lower signaling that Atlanta had been the last to play. He stared at the sheet music that had been gathering dust for the past few months. He leaned closer when he noticed it was handwritten sheet music.

"Okay. I'm ready," Addy proclaimed. "Let's do this thing."

Remus shook his head, gathering up the sheet music to peruse at a later date.

After a lovely meeting with Hagrid (who was only slightly sore about the fact Harry and Hermione had both dropped Care of the Magical Creatures and only Neville was taking the NEWT level course), Harry took off for his detention with Snape leaving Draco and Hermione alone.

"Where's Tom?" Draco asked.

"I haven't seen him since this morning," Hermione admitted. "Now—"

Before Hermione could say what she wished, Slughorn appeared.

"Hermione! Hermione! Just the woman I wished to find. I was hoping to catch you before dinner, did I?"

"Yes," Hermione hedged.

They'd had "food" at Hagrid's. Harry had run off to stuff his face before detention and Draco had been looking for to a quiet meal with Hermione alone since Tom had gone MIA.

"Good, good. We're having just a small little spot of supper in my rooms tonight. I've got McLaggen coming, and Zabini, oh, and the charming Melina Bobbin— I don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries. Can I count on your attendance, Miss Granger?"

Slughorn swept Hermione a little bow, which made her cheeks turn pink.

It was as if Draco was invisible. He rolled his eyes upward and dropped his arm from where it was around Hermione's waist.

"Oh, uh…well," Hermione paused looking over at Draco. He nodded his head and moved away from her so Slughorn could sweep her off to his rooms for the "spot of supper."

Draco headed in alone to the Great Hall and found Neville and Tom, who was silent throughout the meal yet was wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

"Okay," Draco said, setting down his fork and knife, "why are you looking so smug."

"Hmmmm?" Tom looked up, attempting to appear innocent and failing.

Neville glanced between the two.

"What were you doing all day? You didn't show up at the Quidditch tryouts to support your boyfriend," Draco goaded.

Tom narrowed his eyes, but said nothing against what Draco had just referred to Harry as.

Interesting.

"I was putting together a Dueling Club. I spoke with Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape."

"Snape?" Neville squeaked.

Tom gave Neville a tired look. "Besides Dumbledore and Flitwick, he's the best dueler here."

"Oh, you're not counting yourself?"

"No, there is much for me to learn," Tom admitted easily. "They've both agreed to supervise and we drew up the sign up sheets and found a meeting area."

"Wouldn't you meet here?" Neville asked, indicating to the Great Hall.

"Well, yes. I had thought we'd use that huge room Luna offered up for dancing lessons fourth year, but I couldn't get it to show up for me, nor could I find Luna, so we'll be meeting in the Great Hall. That actually works better, as it gives us more transparency. Harder to do something super secret out in the open."

Neville glanced at Tom before looking at Draco. "Are we trying to do something super secret?"

"No," Tom breezily said before Draco could answer. "Just building an army."

He smiled a rather evil grin before almost skipping out of the Great Hall.

"Please tell me he's not really dating Harry," Neville moaned. "He's so…"

"Creepy? Arrogant? Self-absorbed? Weird? Someone who doesn't really grow on you?"

"All the above," Neville admitted. "Did you get invited to that dinner with Slughorn?"

"No."

"I didn't go because he just wants me there because of my parents," Neville proclaimed. "Is that where Hermione is?"

Draco nodded.

"Ginny was invited too," Neville said. "On her own merit. Did you hear what she did in front of Slughorn?"

"Some sort of hex she is quite good at?"

Neville nodded, grinning. "Yeah. Did Harry go?"

"No. He has detention with Snape."

Neville nodded. "I'm amazed his mouth hasn't gotten him more."

Draco snorted. "His sass doesn't often show its face whilst Snape is around."

"I know. Snape usually ignores him," Neville said. "Well, want to play some chess? I miss chess."

"Sure. Muggle or Wizard?"

"Muggle. I like it better, less unwanted advice and smashing."

Draco snorted.