Questions from last chapter's reviews:

Riverflower: Have you ever written a full story before? Have you ever written your own, that were not fanfiction? Answer: None that I've finished. I usually stuck with short stories, it was always really hard for me to conceive a plot for a full story. That's why I was so happy to get this plot idea from Andy! I have a tough time with a plot for a novel-length feature.

Monkeywoman14: What's going on with Eftan? Answer: We'll be checking back up on Eftan soon enough.

Bakkasama: Is Albus's affinity for fire a wink to the scene in HBP in which Dumbledore sets Tom's wardrobe on fire? I don't remember if it was done wandlessly in the book (I think not) but it was in the movie and I reckon it was something like Albus's talent at potions. Answer: Interesting thought, but the choice was due to the fact that fire is a dramatic element for a child to be handling.

Guest: How does someone become a Squib? Does it have anything to do with the magical pressure points you were talking about? Answer: You're born that way. Or bitten by a mulunctapol. If you're bitten by a mulunctapol, your magic is gone-there's no getting it back and there's no in between; it's gone completely and for good.

And HOLY MERLIN 96 followers! I seriously didn't think it would be up that far. 4 more and I'll make good on my promise! I said 100 followers AND 100 favorites in the first chapter but I never thought either would happen, so, I'll do it if we get to 100 on either :) THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!

CHAPTER TEN

WARMER THAN BUTTERBEER

O

Just as the phoenix ash disappeared from his sight, there was a loud humming and the rev of an engine. Lily looked up, terrified, as a car dropped out of the sky, headed straight for them; Albus gently laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "No, it's all right—I think that's Dad's friend, Mrs. Dane. She's come to take me to the Ball."

James snorted; Albus rolled his eyes. "Not take me to the Ball as her date," he revised, unable to stop himself from smiling.

"Is Lyman going to the Yule Ball?" asked James.

"Yeah, that's why Mrs. Dane offered to drive me, too—she was already bringing her son."

"Have fun during the car trip," chuckled James. "Lyman is the single most irritating individual I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."

Albus grimaced.

The car landed in their back lawn; Albus saw Mr. Dempsey at his window the next house over, gawking right before shaking his head and closing the shutters. The Dempseys had never been the biggest fans of their neighbors possessing magic. Harry appeared behind them and extracted his wand, presumably to check Theela's identity.

Theela Dane, a tall woman with a large, square jaw and large, square shoulders, tossed back her long black hair as she exited the car. Lyman Dane followed her; Albus recognized him from the Dueling Tournament last year—he'd beaten out Roxanne for the spot but lost to Gabriella Garland's sister. He looked overly confident with black hair and dark brown eyes and a smug swagger. Maybe it was a biased evaluation due to what James had just said to him, but Lyman didn't look like the type of friend Albus would have liked to have.

"The first person your husband kissed," said Harry in a bored tone.

"My sister," said Theela. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Good afternoon, Theela."

"Hey, what's up, James?" asked Lyman.

"Your self confidence," muttered James as he waved. "A bit too far up, if you ask me."

"Albus, how do you do, I'm Lyman!"

Lyman shook Albus's hand when he got to the porch. "I'm fine, how're you?" asked Albus.

"I'm doing great!" said Lyman. "I just did extremely well on a practical Charms exam, I can do the Bubble-Head Charm quite ridiculously well now, if I do say so myself, would you like to see?"

Albus was spared having to say "no" when his father started up a conversation with Lyman about his classes. Within ten seconds, Harry looked like he really regretted beginning this conversation, as all Lyman could talk about was his impeccable Bubble-Head Charm.

"—and it was perfectly circular, so round that you couldn't see the slightest imperfection, and Professor Plinky gave me full marks," finished Lyman.

"That's… spectacular," said Harry. "I assume you have to leave fairly quickly to ensure getting to Hogwarts in time for the five o'clock train?"

"Yes, that would be best," said Theela. "Don't worry—I'll return your son to you in one piece."

"Oh, good," said Harry. "I was going to ask about that. All right, Albus, have—oh! You need your dress robes!"

As his father ran inside, Lyman began bragging about the dress robes that he picked out himself. Even his mother seemed to be fed up with his incessant talking.

Harry ran back out with the dress robes, then used his wand to create a box into which he stuffed the robes. "No sense making you change into these until you're there," said Harry. "Have an excellent time! Say hello to Janelle for me."

"I will," said Albus. "Bye, Dad. Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas, Mum!"

"Have fun!" called his mother, who had just appeared at the door. "Merry Christmas!" She ushered her husband and other children inside so that she could close the door to conserve the heat; she waved to Albus after the door was closed as Albus closed the car door behind him and they took off.

"I was quite excited when they legalized flying cars after the global revelation," said Theela. "They're so convenient. Look like a Muggle, blend in with Muggles, until you need to prove yourself above them, so to speak."

She said it bitingly; Albus wondered what this was about.

He got what he assumed was an answer, though, after a few minutes of the car ride. Lyman was like a radio that wouldn't turn off. He chattered away the entire trip. The car was riding at a steady one hundred miles per hour, much faster than his family's flying car, but it still took four hours to arrive at Hogwarts castle, and that meant four long hours of Lyman's voice dictating how it was viciously unfair that Albus's year was the only year in Hogwarts currently allowed to take the A.R.M. program and that if he had been in the program he would have been the top in his year, followed by personal anecdotes of his classroom experiences to ensure that Albus knew he wasn't joking about how intelligent he was.

"By the way, I hear you've, ah, stopped being intelligent," he said to Albus curiously. "What's that all about, hah?"

Albus's eye twitched and he was extremely grateful when Theela then announced that Hogwarts was in sight and that they would be landing soon.

"You didn't answer my question," called Lyman as Albus immediately lifted himself out of the car after they touched ground.

There were no other third year students there, so Albus joined the only one of his cousins who was attending the Yule Ball—Molly—and sat with her friends in their compartment. Among them was Peggy Sanford, the girl whom Albus had heard called "Preggy" on their first trip to Beauxbatons. She was very obviously pregnant, but she looked proud of her child this time instead of distressed about how people were treating her because of her somewhat early pregnancy.

"Good for you, Albus," said Molly. "I talked with Janelle a bit after you left the waiting room the day of the first task. She was very sweet."

"Albus is going out with Donna's sister?" asked Rona, giggling.

"She wrote to him on a whim and asked him to the Ball, I guess," said Molly. "They were talking at the first task."

They quickly grew bored of discussing Albus, however, and the conversation turned to possible names that Peggy was considering for her son.

Rona's date was a tall, ginger seventh year named Cameron Luck. Molly's was Dyson Stenet, but he was to meet them at Beauxbatons, as he had graduated from Hogwarts last year. Peggy and Gabriella both also had dates. Albus was the only one in the compartment without a date, and he felt very awkward (as well as squished) throughout the train ride, and he was looking forward to the end of the ride almost as much as he had looked forward to exiting the car with the Danes.

But before they had gone more than ten minutes, the door opened and Professor Desulgon stuck his head in, asking if anyone needed dancing instruction.

Molly gave Albus one look and then shoved him out of the compartment.

"Albus!" said Professor Desulgon, looking rather surprised to see him. He looked back into the compartment, searching for Albus's date.

"I'm meeting someone at Beauxbatons," said Albus to put his teacher's mind at ease that he wasn't dating a seventh year.

"I must have missed this piece of gossip," said Professor Desulgon. "Last I noticed you were very close to Holly?"

"Er."

"Never mind." Professor Desulgon stuck his head into the next compartment and asked. "I shouldn't be prying anyway," he said once he'd pulled his head out and several other boys exited who looked vaguely familiar. "Head to the very back of the Express, everyone, we'll be learning to move our cabooses in the caboose. I'll be there once I've gotten some more cabooses off their seats."

Albus was stuck with two unwholesome-looking Slytherin fourth year boys named Ross Delle-Smith and Darren Randall, who looked like to attack him at any moment, until a couple of Ravenclaw couples walked in, for which he was glad. A nervous-looking Hufflepuff fourth year named Claire Fischer walked in last and then Professor Desulgon followed, closing the door behind him.

"Okay, everybody pair up," said Professor Desulgon immediately, clasping his hands together.

Claire smashed into Albus so quickly that she almost knocked him over, grabbing his arm to claim him immediately, as if there was someone else who wanted to pair up with him. The Ravenclaw duos obviously chose each other, and the two fourth year Slytherin boys begrudgingly coupled up.

Professor Desulgon then Conjured a mannequin in the air which he Charmed into dancing with him. The rest of the group followed, and Albus, absolutely terrified that he would step on Claire's and Janelle's feet, began to learn how to dance.

"You know, Muggles have dancing competitions," said Professor Desulgon as he continued to step naturally in rhythm to demonstrate. "Millions of people watch these competitions—they're televised. It's an international phenomenon much of the time."

"That's because Muggles are idiots," snapped Darren, who was constantly fighting with Ross over who would be assuming the male movements in their pair.

"Excuse me," said Professor Desulgon sternly. "We don't say things like that—ever—and there might be some people with Muggle parents around right now."

"People with Muggle parents shouldn't be around," muttered Ross just loud enough for everyone but Professor Desulgon to hear.

Now Albus realized where he had seen Ross and Randall before—they were often in the company of the pure-blood bigot fourth year Red Pierce, and Albus had grown to dislike them by sight through association. His feelings were accurate.

After over an hour of painful dance lessons, Albus was competent enough to keep pace through all of the different steps and not look like an idiot, which he supposed was good for now. He hoped Janelle wasn't an impeccable dancer, or she was going to show him up something awful.

There was a knock on the door, and Professor Longbottom opened it. "We'll be arriving in ten minutes," he said. "Get into your dress robes, everyone, because it'll be straight to the Ball when we arrive. There will be food all around if you're hungry… Oh! Hello, Albus!"

He looked in pleasant surprise just as Professor Desulgon had done. He nodded and smiled and then mostly closed the door as he left.

"I think that this is where I leave you," said Professor Desulgon. "You're all fair enough dancers to not embarrass Hogwarts. Good luck to all!"

Albus pulled on his dress robes in an empty compartment and then sat next to Molly the rest of the trip feeling queasy.

Every eye was going to be on him at some point… he was dancing with the sister of one of the champions, and they were a pair from different schools. He and Janelle would probably be the spotlight for a while, even. Why did he ever agree to this? He was going to make a fool out of himself, and not only in front of one school but three.

Molly picked up on his tension and started rubbing his back. "There, there," she said. "You'll do fine. Just don't think about it too much and you'll be brilliant."

Albus sighed and tried to clear his mind. It wasn't working; the more he tried to clear it, the more worries filled the gaps he left.

When the train finally screeched to a stop, and the flying carriages carted them the rest of the way to Beauxbatons, Albus realized he was sweating a lot, and whimpered at the fact that he was going to stain the armpits of his dress robes and look like an idiot.

"Oh, Albus," laughed Molly as the carriages started to descend towards the floating palace of Beauxbatons. "You're all sweaty… You're so nervous, just calm down, it'll all turn out fine!" She took out her wand. "Here—Laxlans."

Albus felt himself stop sweating immediately, and then Molly nonverbally cleared him up of the sweat that was already out.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Don't mention it. And don't sweat it!"

Albus sighed loudly and let Molly rub his back again.

As they landed and entered the castle again, Essa Raelle, the spirit who had greeted them the first time, escorted them to the ball. When they arrived, Albus noted her request a dance from Professor Desulgon, who blushed and graciously accepted the offer.

"Albus!"

Janelle burst from the crowd of students who were already in the large hall to which they were being escorted.

Her dress was a beautiful deep green with two streams of red diagonally down from the waist; red and green streamers billowed down from her beautiful, shining black hair, which was tied back in a neat and complicated bun with one strand hanging down on the left side of her head and one strand in a neat spiral resting above her ear on the right side of her head. A black bow around her waist sealed the look. She looked lovely—stunning—incredible—but extremely upset.

"What's going on?" asked Albus as Wilcox ran into the room ahead, muttering "No… no… no… this is exactly what we did not want to happen this year…"

Janelle pointed back into the room. "The… the ball is… very tense right now," she said shakily. "Professor Vintervolff and Madame Maxime are… having a slight disagreement."

Albus couldn't look anywhere except for Janelle, until Madame Maxime's booming voice barreled through the entry to the hall.

"WHEN AN EVENT OF ZIS NATURE OCCURS, I ASSURE YOU, WE AT BEAUXBATONS 'AVE A BACK-UP PLAN SO ZAT EXACTLY ZIS SITUATION DOES NOT MANIFEST EETSELF!"

"VE DID NOT EXPECT ANYTHING LIKE THIS TO HAPPEN!" bellowed Professor Vintervolff back at her. "NONE VERE EXPECTING IT! I APOLOGIZE FOR THIS SITUATION, BUT THERE VOS NOTHING VE COULD DO—THE CONTROVERSY VOS IMMINENT AND VE OPTED TO—"

"STOP SHOUTING, THE BOTH OF YOU!" exploded Professor Wilcox, louder than Albus had ever heard him.

The three heads of their respective schools began a quieter discussion, and rumors and gossip immediately started flying around the crowd.

"Do you know what happened?" asked Albus to his date.

Janelle bit her lower lip. "Caspar Engodska—the Durmstrang champion? He didn't show up."

"He's not here?" reiterated Albus incredulously. "Why?"

"Maybe he doesn't like to dance," said Janelle, shrugging. "They were thinking of… of calling it off. But I spent so much time getting ready… and I made you come all the way out here…"

"They wouldn't call it off," said Albus confidently. "Someone probably just said that when they were in the heated discussion but they wouldn't have meant it."

"I hope not," said Janelle, wiping her eye with the back of her hand. Some of her makeup smeared slightly under her eye.

"Oh," said Albus apologetically. "Your… er…"

"Goodness," muttered Janelle, looking at the small black smudge on her hand. "Well, this is enchanted make-up; it will fix as soon as I stop crying like a stupid little girl." She smiled softly. "Thank you for coming, Albus."

"You're welcome," said Albus. "And don't worry, it's not stupid to cry. You must have spent a really long time getting ready to look so good, so it's okay to be disappointed."

Janelle seemed very surprised to receive the compliment, but she recovered quickly and smiled wider; her face was infinitely more beautiful with a smile.

Wilcox walked out to the Hogwarts group, which was still together, and waved everyone closer.

"Listen, everyone," he said sternly. "Madame Maxime and Professor Vintervolff are… not in the best of moods. Don't cause any trouble tonight or I will have you serving detentions until the end of the year and I will take one hundred points from your house and I will kill you. …Seriously, though, don't antagonize them tonight."

"What's going on?" asked Ross Delle-Smith.

"Durmstrang champion Caspar Engodska… has refused to attend the Yule Ball," said Professor Wilcox, glancing over to Albus and Janelle for a moment with a raised eyebrow before scanning the rest of the crowd.

"He boycotted the Ball?" asked Rona, mouth hanging open.

"Yes, for reasons undisclosed," said Professor Wilcox. "Professor Vintervolff admits that he handled the situation rather terribly, and unfortunately, Caspar will not be joining us. Rona, you and Donna alone will have to open the dance with your partners. We won't be replacing Caspar. I don't think the situation can be fixed in time for the Ball to begin, so we'll have to make do with two champions. The whole thing is a bit of a disaster, but please roll with it and act like you're very impressed with how everything turned out just so that Madame Maxime doesn't get any more… er… emotional. She worked very hard for this to happen and now that it's falling apart a bit… so is she." Wilcox heaved a sigh. "But don't tell her I said that! Just, for me, for today, act like everything's perfectly normal. Thank you."

"I wonder what happened," said Albus.

What reasons would Caspar have had to boycott the Yule Ball?

"Is the Triwizard Tournament still all going to happen?"

"Of course it is, it's a binding magical contract," said Wilcox. "And I don't think Caspar's boycotting the Tournament. Just this ball. Rona—if you would go get ready. Thank you for bearing with us, everyone. Remember—don't mention Caspar, please."

Albus held out his hand. Janelle took it happily, and he led her with the Hogwarts group to sit in wait until the two remaining champions opened the Ball.

Rona, with her somewhat homely-looking date Cameron, and Donna, with a boy who looked like he could have been a male model, began the dances with pleasure. The couples were a sharp contrast to each other. Donna and her date were one of the most attractive couples Albus had ever seen; Rona was a very nerdy-looking girl and Cameron wasn't unattractive but awkward.

When everybody else got up to dance, Albus knew that it was time to test his new skills. He held out his hand to his date. Janelle, whose make-up had indeed somehow been completely fixed, took his hand and they started to dance.

A great many eyes were indeed upon them, as Albus had expected. Unlike what he had expected, though, he was doing very well for himself. Even as he heard the whispers of people pointing out the third year couple, Harry Potter's son dancing with the Beauxbatons champion's sister, he was finding it remarkably easy to step in time with Janelle. She was his height, which was strange after he'd been around Holly for so long; she was a head shorter.

"You are very good," said Janelle appreciatively as they walked towards the punch bowl afterwards. "Have you taken lessons? Or are you just a natural?"

"Neither," laughed Albus. "I had my first lesson an hour ago, I think I'm just lucky for not screwing up."

"Nonsense," said Janelle as Albus handed her a cup of punch. "Say, would you like to take a walk around the palace?"

"Of course," said Albus gladly. "Now?"

"Why not?" said Janelle. "We can come back and dance more later… The Ball is four hours long."

"I'd love to," said Albus, and he took Janelle's hand to let her guide him around the castle.

They visited the third year dormitories, the places where Janelle had her classes, and the research rooms located throughout Beauxbatons for student use. Some of them were actually occupied, even on Christmas night; according to Janelle, some of the older students were required to do research projects that took a lot of time, and they needed the Christmas holidays to complete the projects. Arithmancers and Herbologists alike studied, eyeing Albus and Janelle in their fancy clothes enviously.

While they walked, Janelle talked about herself a lot; Albus was fascinated by her story.

"Nobody ever expected much from me or my sister," said Janelle. "Our parents were both Squibs."

Albus gave a small hum of surprise. Not that he didn't think a Triwizard champion could come from a Squib family; he just hadn't thought about her parentage.

"We grew up in the way that Muggles grew up, washing dishes and cooking and everything without magic. But, there are many Muggle-born witches and wizards who become great—perhaps more than the so-called 'pure-bloods', because of the desire in these situations to prove yourself—and my sister and I were exposed to the magical world before coming to Beauxbatons, so we were no less likely to succeed, I should think. Why would being the daughter of Squibs make any difference—why would people think that we would have any less magic than anyone else? But we still faced a lot of teasing from our classmates."

"That's terrible," pouted Albus, frowning. "How is this sort of bullying still a problem in today's world?"

"I… am not sure," said Janelle, shaking her head. "But it happened. I learned to deal with it. Donna took it much worse than I did in her first few years. I watched her come home in tears in her first year from something somebody said after her exams had finished, and I told myself that I would never let words affect me outwardly. It always hurts on the inside, but when I act like I am not hurt, the insults do not come as often. Donna helped me to learn that, but she had to learn that on her own. She has obviously turned out just fine, though," finished Janelle with a grin, "representing Beauxbatons in the Triwizard Tournament." She glanced over at Albus. "Perhaps you and I will face off against each other in our seventh year, representing our home schools. The Tournament is to be held every four years rather than every five, in its revival."

"Oh," said Albus. "Maybe we will."

"What is it, that I was saying?" pondered Janelle aloud, biting her lower lip. "Oh—my sister. Donna is the strongest person I know. When none have any expectations for your success, telling you that you cannot succeed, I think that succeeding is the hardest task one can face. Harder than any Triwizard Tournament task."

"I don't know," stated Albus, and Janelle blinked up at him. "I mean—you and I are like opposites, almost. I'm Harry Potter's son… Everybody expected everything out of me. I don't know how my brother brushes it off. He gets average grades even though I think he's smarter than he lets on. But I guess that made the expectations for me even higher, somehow. And when you're always afraid of disappointing everyone, it can be really hard. I guess it's probably equally hard when people tell you that you won't succeed, just in a different way. Your self-confidence must have taken a hit… For me, I was always afraid of disappointing everyone, and it's been really hard lately, dealing with the fact that I can't live up to expectations."

"Why? What happened?"

"My magic isn't as powerful as it used to be. I don't know why. Everyone's telling me that it's because of trauma from a lot of death that I witnessed. I don't think that's right. Whatever it is, though, it's killing my scores in the practical portions of my classes."

"Oh!" exclaimed Janelle. "Is that why, in our class, you chose not to perform your Transformation—ah, sorry—English schools call it Transfiguration?"

"That's right," said Albus. "It's been this way for an entire term. I'm worried at this point that I'll never get fixed."

"I hope you get better. Have you been examined?"

"Yeah, several times. They can't figure me out."

"I very much understand what you were saying before," said Janelle. "I suppose I never really thought about how hard it must be for you when the world is expecting you to live up to your father's name."

"And I never thought about how hard my schooling would have been, if everyone had been telling me that I wouldn't do anything special," replied Albus.

They exchanged a long glance.

Janelle looked away shyly and blushed.

Albus very badly wanted to kiss her already. He just wanted to know what it would feel like—would it be different from his kiss with Holly? If so, how much? And was it okay to kiss her on the third time they'd met, only the first time that they'd really spent any time together? He'd known Holly for two and a half years before he kissed her.

And did Janelle want to kiss him back?

They went back to the dance shortly after, and danced to a couple more songs. Albus didn't exactly want to, but he could tell that Janelle did.

Molly's spell was still apparently in effect, because Albus felt very warm, but he wasn't sweating. Janelle looked slightly shiny, though, as she took her seat, wiping her forehead.

"Thank you very much," said Janelle, eyeing him shrewdly.

"For dancing with you?" asked Albus. "I enjoyed it, too."

"Not that much, I could tell," she said. "But you still danced because I wanted to."

"Oh. Well, maybe."

"That was really kind of you."

Albus grinned, abashed. "Well, I wouldn't be here if you hadn't invited me, so it was the least I could do."

Janelle pushed back a strand of hair and smoothed out her dress a little, then picked at her fingernails nervously.

Albus had seen this before—Holly had done this same sort of preening many times when they were studying alone together, and it had escalated to its highest right before she had kissed him. Some things were the same even across the borders of countries…

Nervously, Albus glanced around. There were few people nearby and no one watching.

He leaned over to Janelle and, using his best guesses as to how this was done properly, he touched his lips to hers.

She gave a little gasp and opened her mouth slightly, and his lips slid in snugly around hers; she closed her lips again and then he opened and closed his ever so slightly in response. Instantly, he was flooded with a remarkable feeling. It was warmer than drinking butterbeer and more exhilarating than flying. He thought wildly for a second about when he should stop, but he felt so happy that he didn't really want to, and maybe that was the point.

He had absolutely zero sense of time, but after what was probably somewhere between five seconds and five hours, he leaned slightly back.

Janelle's exuberant gaze locked with his. She was glowing, but not like his part-Veela cousins glowed. She was simply glowing because she was clearly the happiest person that Albus had ever seen. And Albus had almost never been happier.

There was no longer a question of whom he would rather kiss.

Janelle sat with her head on his shoulder and her hand in his for a while, watching the better dancers on the floor. Molly was one of them. With such an uptight father, she'd always been learning to let loose in any way she could; at one point she'd even enrolled in a Muggle dance class, one that her mother used to attend, and won a competition. She was certainly letting her hair down now as she and her equally talented boyfriend tore up the floor.

Madame Maxime and Professor Vintervolff seemed to have calmed down as well, and Janelle pointed out close to the end of the Ball that they appeared to be apologizing to each other, which was a good sign. After all, Wilcox had put so much emphasis on how the Triwizard Tournament was being brought back to bring everyone together in troubled times, not cause more trouble. Caspar, however, was still absent from the festivities.

Albus spent a while admiring the magnificent non-melting ice sculptures all around the beautifully decked hall as the music slowed and more and more couples sat down, talking or else snuggling with each other.

"Do you know anything about the second task?" asked Albus, trying to find topics for conversation.

Janelle smiled. "No. No student is supposed to know. The golden gems apparently house a clue for the next task, but we have yet to figure them out."

"Only the golden gems?"

"That's right."

"That's like the golden egg," noted Albus. "They both have clues."

Janelle raised a brow. "I'm not familiar with what happened there."

"My dad had to collect a golden egg for his first task," explained Albus. "When he held it underwater it sang a song about the next task. Though I doubt they would do the same solution to the hint two Tournaments in a row… and the element for the next task should be Sky, not Sea, so…"

"So maybe take the gem for a fly rather than a swim?" proposed Janelle.

Albus cringed as he realized the person with whom he was holding this conversation. Had he just slipped the sister of the Beauxbatons champion a critical hint?

"Hey, it's the last dance," said Janelle, taking his mind off of the mistake. "Shall we?"

She held out her hand, which Albus immediately took; they stood and danced to the last song, a very slow tune to French lyrics. Albus didn't understand them, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

When the song had finished, most of the couples on the floor leaned in for a kiss, however quick, and Albus got the feeling that he should do the same. He shifted himself forward and sifted his fingers over her hair as he leaned in for another kiss, and he felt like his blood was made of butterbeer. His mouth curled into a smile, as did Janelle's; he could feel it. He almost laughed at the thought of how nervous he had been before arriving; now, he never wanted to leave.

O

As soon as the train started going, Molly stood up and closed the door to their compartment. She sat back down, and her eyes glinted gleefully.

"I noticed you kissed Janelle," she said.

All the other girls in the compartment gave a little cheer and congratulations; Albus was struck with the urge to leap out the window. He shrunk into his shoulders and nodded uncomfortably.

"What? It's not a bad thing!" exclaimed Molly. "I saw how happy you were! She was, too. You two are such a cute couple; are you going to continue to see each other?"

"We said we'd write," said Albus in the lowest possible volume.

"Good," affirmed Molly contentedly. "What did you two talk about?"

"Er. Our families," said Albus. "And the tournament—oh! Rona!"

Rona looked at him quizzically; a moment before, he had been very withdrawn, but now he was addressing her excitedly. "Yes?" she asked.

"I thought about something," said Albus. "About the golden gem—have you figured out the clue?"

"I haven't," she said, surprised. "Have you?"

"Er. Maybe," said Albus, and the seventh years all exchanged glances. "Well, I have an idea that might work—probably might—but might or might not—er—you know how there was the golden egg in the last tournament?"

"I remember your father telling us that," said Molly; Rona nodded.

"And that he had to bathe it to understand the clue?"

Rona tilted her head and gestured for him to go on.

"I was thinking," said Albus. "The golden egg had to be taken underwater. So maybe—maybe the golden gems need to be taken up high into the sky? The next task should based on the sky, shouldn't it?"

Rona's face settled into an impressed grin. "It is indeed based on sky next," she said. "Albus Potter… you may be onto something here." She punched Molly's arm. "You've got a smart little cousin there!"

Molly beamed. "You are a genius, Albus," she said happily. "If that works, Rona owes you at least a third of the prize money when she wins!"

No, she doesn't, thought Albus guiltily, because then Donna will get it, too.

He looked out the window glumly, but his bad mood could not stay for very long when he remembered the kiss he'd shared with Janelle.

Reminding himself to try his Patronus as soon as possible, he mulled over his good mood all the way back to Hogwarts, where Theela was waiting with the Danes' flying car. She picked him up with Lyman to drop Albus off at Furlong's Notch.

Albus climbed into the car, and even Lyman's incessant descriptions of his perfect dance moves could not dissipate his good mood.

Or, at least, that was what he thought. He would have loved to get some sleep, as it was well past midnight, and he knew that they wouldn't be back until we would normally be waking up. But Lyman had no sense of the hour of the night, nor of how tired his companions were. Theela's eye had started twitching, and she was glancing back at him with more loathing than Albus ever thought a parent could have for their child.

"I heard you got some action tonight, eh, Albus?" said Lyman when the trip was nearly over, elbowing Albus just as he was about to fall asleep. Albus grunted and rubbed his eyes. "Kissed a girl? That your first? I've kissed ten girls."

"Lyman," said Theela, plainly exhausted. "I'm fed up with listening to you. We're almost there. Please shut up, for your own good."

Albus laughed slightly. The lack of rest was getting to Lyman's mother. Lyman ignored her and continued. Didn't this kid ever need to sleep?

"You probably don't really know about sex yet, do you? Probably not. I won't go on about my girlfriends, then. You know, I was wondering about getting lucky tonight, but by the time I thought about it…"

"Lyman…"

"Yeah, it was too late, so we just grabbed an empty room to make out for a bit. She was really hot. Did you see my date? I love her figure. She loves me even more than I love her, but then again, what's not to like? I probably wouldn't be able to resist me either."

"Lyman."

"You're lucky that Janelle girl of yours didn't meet me first, she probably wouldn't have paid much attention to you if she had!"

"LYMAN."

"Yeah Mum? Oh—wait. I almost forgot to tell you! I pulled off the coolest dance move today, it was right when everyone was watching, too. Everyone always stops to watch when I do something cool, it's like they know what I'm about to do—"

"LYMAN!"

"Just a sec, Mum—So I was standing with my girl and then I sort of flipped her, like this—" he made an arm motion that made absolutely no sense in a dancing context— "and she twirled around and then I whipped her back and she fell right on my arm again and then I sort of stumbled but it didn't look like a stumble, probably because I'm a natural, I must've been doing some epic dance move without realizing it—and I almost tripped over her but instead I jumped over her legs and slid my other arm under her and caught her again, and then pecked her on the cheek with a kiss, it was so amazing—"

"LYMAN, I SWEAR TO MERLIN—"

"Hold on a moment, let me finish my story—"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A flash of green filled the car with the rushing sound of nightmares.

Lyman's tiny brain processed for the slightest moment what his mother had just shouted, and then he seized up and smashed limp against the back of his seat; his head sank to the side, with wide and lifeless eyes staring directly at Albus.

Albus suddenly found it impossible to breathe. He stared at the boy sitting across from him—did that just happen? Was that what he thought had just happened?

Lyman sank a little farther in his seat, and all weariness fled Albus's eyes; he looked up at Theela in the front in sheer panic.

"Doesn't matter, everything's finally coming together," said Theela casually. "I can drop the pretenses. Imperio."

Her wand was now directed towards Albus. He didn't have time to scream as the spell struck him; his eyes screwed up in his head for a moment, and then he relaxed.

A sensation much, much warmer than drinking butterbeer, warmer even than his kiss with Janelle, flooded his veins, overcoming all of his senses and all of his fears. If he had thought that he'd never been happier, he was wrong. This was unparalleled bliss.

He smiled softly and closed his eyes, feeling a deep calm like never before.

Say it.

A voice echoed in the back of his head, a tender suggestion infinitely more persuasive than the harshest demand.

Say, "Beware the Sandblood Rising."

"Beware the Sandblood Rising," said Albus pleasantly, as the car gently rolled to a stop on his back lawn.