Sarah didn't know why she had expected instantaneous results. This was a Malfoy she was dealing with. Even if he respected Goyle enough to do him a favor, there was no reason for him to hurry. Dustin had reported that Goyle had convinced Malfoy to spy, but after that Sarah tried to avoid her brother. She wasn't certain if Malfoy knew she was related to Dustin, or that Goyle was friends with him, but she didn't want him to figure out who he was actually doing this for.

She was beginning to realize that she had bigger problems. Vague connivings of someone at the opposite end of the school were much easier to forget about as soon as classes started back up. According to Professor Hornby, "The first term is nothing but teaching first-years how to navigate and survive the school. Now you start the real learning." Indeed, the pace did seem to increase. Sarah had always been an efficient worker though, so while other students excelled in class but struggled to finish their assignments, she reversed the pattern.

Albus seemed to be struggling the most. Rory worried more, but Albus seemed to be crashing. Every morning, his eyes were hidden more and more under a morass of bags and eye gunk. His movements were lethargic and his responses slow. He was clearly not getting nearly enough sleep. It was odd, because he certainly left the common room early enough. If he was staying up late to finish his homework, he must be doing it in his room. There wasn't really much else to do in the dormitories, except maybe read, but Albus didn't strike her as the kind of guy to lose sleep over a book.

About a month after break, on the day of the big match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Sarah had the third worst surprise of her year, which was still impressive considering the kind of year she had been having. She entered Charms with Albus and Rory, perhaps a little late, but not inexcusably so.

"Well," sighed Professor Dorian. "I don't know what I expected from you three, I guess I just thought you would have the respect to show up early for our guest." Sarah frowned, but didn't respond. Dorian clearly wasn't disappointed, as good of an actress as she could be, she wasn't using her talents. She was gleeful that she could pick on them a bit more. Sarah was more curious about the guest.

Rory noticed her first, letting out a little shriek, and almost dropping her books. Orianna Zyther was sitting in a desk in the corner. It was comically small for her, designed for younger students, but she looked every bit as intimidating.

"Oh yes, you two are sisters. I always forget, there's just such a discrepancy between your..." she paused for effect, "...responsibility." Rory was shaking a little bit. Sarah felt like something inside her was quivering, but she wasn't showing it. She just bit her lip and led Rory to their seats.

"Now, we were working on the Lumos Charm, and the countercharm," began Professor Dorian, but Sarah couldn't take her eyes of Orianna. She did have her head cocked just the slightest bit, but there were no strange, involuntary movements, no glint of madness in her eyes. Perhaps a bit of malice, but this did seem to be the genuine girl, or at least not Brista using Polyjuice.

"Wands out. Lumos Charms everyone." Dorian's wand glowed gently. "There's light enough in here, no need to overdo it."

Sarah, of course, overdid it. She had managed to get this spell pretty quickly, but she was having difficulty controlling it. Her spell seemed to scorch her retinas until it stabilized at a lower level. Professor Dorian flashed her a nasty smile.

"In light of the most recent rash of Fiendfyres, the Ministry has instructed me to teach you its countercharm. Pointless, really, a first year couldn't do anything to combat a Fiendfyre, but since it is no more than a variation on the the end of a Lumos, I though I might as well obey. The incantation is Nox Maxima. Identical, but more powerful."

She held up her wand, straightening her back. "Hold up your wands, and I'll demonstrate." Everyone complied, even Orianna, sitting in the corner. She still hadn't taken her eyes off Sarah. Why was she looking at her? Why not Rory? What made Sarah so special?

"Nox Maxima," intoned Professor Dorian perfectly. Sarah felt a wave of cold sweep through the classroom, quenching the light of every wandtip, even the sun streaming in from the windows. Every wandtip, except for her own. Professor Dorian looked as confused as Sarah felt. The other students were all looking at her in the suddenly dark room.

Dorian was scowling, but she quickly repeated, "Nox Maxima!" and Sarah's wand was extinguished. Professor Dorian didn't say anything, but she continued into the lesson with unnecessary haste.

But Sarah's hadn't been the only wand to stay lit, she realized, as she looked into the back corner. Orianna too, had a lit wand. Perhaps the spell had simply not reached, but the look in Orianna's eyes seemed to say otherwise. Once more, she locked her gaze with Sarah's, as if to say, "We have more in common than you might think," and whispered, "Nox!"

"I hate her!" exclaimed Rory after class. Professor Dorian had let them out late, so they had to rush. Most of the school was already down on the Quidditch Pitch. Sarah normally took a different, more leisurely route, so she had to concentrate on sympathizing and not getting lost. "She always shows up in the wrong places! It's as if she knows where I'm most..." She trailed off, but Sarah could tell what she was going to say. Insecure, maybe sensitive? Professor Dorian had always terrified Rory, and with the quiet, malicious eye of her sister, Sarah couldn't blame her for insecurity.

"Why do you think she's there?" asked Albus. "I mean, Professor Dorian talked to her as if she was some kind of student teacher, but that's not what she wants to be, is it Rory?"

"No," agreed Rory.

"She probably wanted to keep an eye on us," said Sarah. "Somehow I think that Brista...threatening me..." Sarah shivered. The memory still bothered her. "I don't think that was part of the plan. But Brista's not right in the head, she's unpredictable, and now Orianna has to clean up, make sure we don't try to tell anyone."

"Yeah, that makes sense!" Albus seemed excited about the idea of having the enemy watching them, it probably added to the ridiculous sense of adventure he felt about this whole affair.

"Why do you think she couldn't put out my wand, or Orianna's?" asked Sarah. That was what had been bothering her the most about this whole affair.

"Well Orianna has had loads of experience, and you're the best witch in the class, at least at practical magic," quipped Albus.

"Not as much experience as Professor Dorian," Sarah reminded him. "And there's no way I'm the best in the class, I can't even control a simple Lumos spell."

"But you do it much more powerfully," said Rory. "Maybe Professor Dorian just didn't count on having to put in so much effort to douse your wand."

"Maybe..." said Sarah as remembered why she typically avoided this hallway. Peregrin the Paranoid was hanging on the wall, eying her as she passed, his huge gargoyles flexing their muscles. He looked worse off than when Sarah had seen him last. His face was paler, his eyes wide and frightened.

"St...stay away!" he stuttered as they passed. His face was thin and haggard. Sarah wondered if pictures could lose weight, or hair, because he certainly looked like he had been doing both. The few hoary hairs clinging to the top of his skull stuck up in a state of total disarray.

None of them addressed him, it was generally the best policy. He cowered at the bottom of the frame, his eyes fixed on them as they passed.

"That's something else we've forgotten!" said Rory excitedly after they were out of earshot. "Orianna had been bothering that portrait in earlier years, and did you see him now?"

Sarah was loath to agree, she still remembered the initial argument about the picture. It still stung, as the only squabble the two of them had had to date. "Yeah, he didn't look well," she was forced to admit.

"I remember, at the beginning of the year, he was eager to catch students spying on him and such, but now..."

"He seemed terrified at the idea," finished Sarah. Rory nodded.

"What do you think they want from him? Information? Maybe he's guarding something?"

"Not information," said Sarah, "James told me once that he was just painted a few decades ago, so I don't think he'd have any information that other portraits don't."

"Hmm...And it looked like there was just a blank slate of wall behind him," continued Rory.

"Though that doesn't mean much at Hogwarts, does it Albus?" Sarah turned. "Albus?" He didn't look too well. He looked pale, and a little guilty. "What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing, just...feeling a little nauseous, I don't think I've been sleeping enough." Sarah had to admit that he had all the symptoms, but she knew Albus well enough to see that sleep wasn't the real problem.

"Sigh," she said (the word sigh, not the action), "Albus, I thought you were a Potter boy. Aren't you supposed to be good at lying?"

Albus blanched a little, but kept a straight face. "Lying? What are you talking about?"

"You know, I've seen you pull it off before, lying to a teacher's face, what makes me and Rory so much harder?"

"I'm not lying!" replied Albus, suddenly defensive.

Sarah just shook her head a Rory in mock disgust. "Anything but the full truth is lying, Albus, and don't think you can fool your best friends. I've spent enough time with you and James to learn your quirks."

Albus scowled and looked to Rory for support, but she just stepped back, trying not to get involved. He bit his lip, but said, "Fine. I was going to tell you eventually; I was waiting for the right moment. But I guess you've cut out that option."

"Don't try to guilt me, it won't work," chided Sarah.

Albus shot her a dirty look, but continued "You're right, like always," he started sarcastically, but Sarah just motioned for him to continue. "I...well...I got something special for Christmas. Like really special. Unique. And it's why I've been up late, not getting sleep and everything."

He paused for dramatic effect. "What?" asked Rory, pushing her hair behind her ear.

"My Dad gave me his old invisibility cloak. I've been wandering around the school, getting to know the secret passages and trick stairs and everything."

"Wow," said Sarah, impressed. "That's a Deathly Hallow you know, one of the most powerful magical artifacts ever made."

"What, are you going to make me return it, lecture me on having it in the first place?" shot back Albus.

"I'm not Rose," replied Sarah coolly. "I was just saying."

"Anyway, I found a bunch of cool stuff while I was wandering around, that I wanted to tell you about, except it's kind of a secret that I even have this. James never gets jealous, but this would be the exception, so you two have to keep it secret, right?"

Rory and Sarah nodded, the first fervently, the second skeptically. "And why is this making you so nervous?" asked Sarah. "Doesn't seem like you need to be worried."

A dull roar was building from the outside of the school, flaring every time they passed a window. Albus, now that the initial confession had gone, was eager to tell the rest, but they were coming to the front doors.

"Listen, I'll tell you guys tonight, after the game. I can even show you! Or well, not show you, you wouldn't actually see it I guess,"

"We understand," assured Sarah. "Come on, I don't want to miss any of the game."

Albus nodded eagerly. "I can't wait to see how James does! He said he's been working on some new tricks," explained Albus.

"Yeah, and I can't wait to rub this in Dustin's face, when we crush them!" added Sarah. "He never gets competitive about anything, so at least this way the competition is forced. Not that he'll care, I guess. But it makes me feel better."

The two of them looked at Rory, mentally asking her why she was coming. "I...I guess I just don't have anything better to do."

Sarah laughed. "Sounds about right. Someday Albus and I will drive an appreciation for sports into your brain."

It was cold in the stands, even slight gusts felt like miniature blizzards. Visibility was low in the wind, but high otherwise. The biggest factor would be freezing hands for the Beaters and Chasers, it was almost guaranteed to be a sloppy game.

They barely found seats before the balls were in the air, and Albus was left with the task of explaining the importance of this particular game while trying to see every detail, which was difficult in a Quidditch game.

"So this game is the second-to-last game, Gryffindor had the bad luck of getting two out of three games right after each other. They did well in their first game, but it took that brute Richards, he's the captain by the way, the Seeker, way too long to get the Snitch. He just can't maneuver; up there on the broom he looks like...Oh come on!"

There had been a foul on James, he had knocked one of the Hufflepuff Beaters off-course, an impressive feat considering the size difference. The penalty shot was no good, so there was no harm done. James quickly earned revenge with an intercepted pass transitioning straight into a throw across the entire field to a fellow Chaser who put it through the goal with no effort whatsoever.

"Thatta boy James!" screamed Albus, making himself heard over the torrential noise of the Gryffindor stands. "Hey! Richards! Get your head in the game! We cheer, you find the Snitch!" Indeed, Richards was yelling support to his players instead of searching for the game-winning ball.

The ball had barely started towards the Gryffindor goalposts before James executed a brilliant dive straight at the Hufflepuff Beaters, scattering them and pushing the ball-carrier into his fellow Chasers, who quickly deprived him of it and tossed it to James, who would have shot if not for the Bludger that sailed within an arm's length of his head.

"See, Ravenclaw is awful this year, and they were missing their only decent player during their game versus Hufflepuff." Albus resumed his explanation as if he had simply stopped for a breath. "They got creamed, by a margin of almost 250 points. That put Hufflepuff in the lead for the cup, and while Gryffindor obviously beat Ravenclaw, we need to win this game by a pretty wide margin, because I don't know if we'll be able to get that big of a lead on Slytherin. I'm pretty confident we can beat them, but not by enough points, especially with their Seeker. He's the fastest since...well my dad probably. To be honest, I'm glad he's a seventh-year, I wouldn't fancy going up against him next year."

Sarah tried to suppress a laugh at the assumption that Albus would definitely be Seeker next year. He was exceptional, but he was competing with much older students. But she had to have faith in her friends, she reminded herself, if she wanted them to do the same.

Ten minutes into the game, technique was going down the tubes. The frigid cold was making even sitting in the stands, in warm coats, surrounded by warm people, almost unbearable. Sarah couldn't even imagine what it was like on the speeding brooms. James had secured them a huge lead, with his fellow Chasers, around ninety points. If the Snitch was caught now, any victory over Slytherin next game would mean the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor.

But Richards was struggling. The Hufflepuff Seeker had spotted the Snitch three times, it was only with careful positioning that James was able to cut him off the chase, and James was wearing out too. He was only a third-year, his athletic potential had not been met.

As if to complicate the situation further, the largest Hufflepuff Chaser, a brick wall of a boy and the only Hufflepuff Dustin had said he tried to avoid, had decided that James wasn't even worthy of his attention. Monroe, was his name, Dustin had said. Any attempts James made to steer him off to one side simply met with him nudging James out of the way. There had been quite a few close saves by the Keeper, but even from the stands, Sarah could see the tips of her fingers turning bluer and bluer with each save.

It was a relief when Richards finally got his head together and called time. The teams grouped up, fans and supporters storming onto the field with hot compresses. Richards said one short thing when they hit the ground, but James took control after that. He was a different person on the field. No more suave joking, he took command like a battlefield sergeant.

And suddenly, he strutted away from his team, straight towards the other huddle, a grim look on his face. The stands took notice, and the respectful quiet they had given the time out disappeared, replaced by murmuring. James tapped Monroe on the shoulder, causing the huge boy to turn and give him a dumb, slightly malicious grin. Sarah couldn't hear what they were saying, but for some reason, she got the distinct impression that James was apologizing to the boy.

"Don't fraternize with the enemy!" yelled Marcus Westfold from a few benches down.

"What is he doing?" she asked Albus.

A grin spread across Albus's face. "He's got something planned. I don't know what it is, but he's pulling out something new, I can tell."

"I just hope that dope Richards can catch the Snitch so his work doesn't go to waste," said Rory.

Albus and Sarah turned to her in surprise. She blushed and pushed her hair back. "What? I don't personally understand why you all get so worked up about this game, but at least the work James put in should matter a little, right?"

But suddenly the teams were in the air again, the stands were on their feet, the cheering deafening. It was true that the game might go on for hours more, but the air had calmed, visibility was improving, and there was just a distinct feeling that this would be the play that would make the game. Gryffindor was up 190 -100, but they needed a wide margin of victory if they wanted a shot at the Quidditch Cup.

But right away, things started going south. James seemed distracted, he was spending more times hassling the Beaters than playing with the Quaffle, and without him, the Gryffindor Chasers were hard pressed to keep Hufflepuff away from the goalposts. Hufflepuff scored, once, twice, barely missed a third opportunity.

"What is he doing?" asked Sarah, a bit peeved.

"He's got this in the bag, don't worry," assured Albus, his faith never slipping.

The other Gryffindor Seekers managed to break free, and with an excellent pass all the way across the field, they scored, but their own goal was left unguarded. Before Sarah could even see what was happening, Monroe was streaking down the field, his sheer momentum preventing anyone from getting close. The field was empty in front of him.

No, it wasn't Sarah realized, James was alone on his broom, headed straight for Monroe, an expression grim determination literally frozen on his face. They were on a crash course, a game of chicken suspended high above the frozen ground. He was a maybe a third of the size of Monroe, he had no chance of winning in a collision, but he didn't swerve. Monroe just grinned and clutched the Quaffle tighter underneath his arm.

"Don't!" cried Rory from the stands. There were screams of terror as they hurtled towards each other, the teachers on the sidelines pulling out their wands for the inevitable first aid that was soon to be needed.

And then Sarah saw it. Hidden directly behind James was a Bludger, hurtling at full speed, shielded from Monroe's view, but clear to everyone in the stands. Monroe closed his eyes and braced for impact, but the second before James was sandwiched between the twin forces of Monroe and the Bludger, he slackened his knees, loosened his grip, and flipped completely upside-down on his broom. The Bludger slammed into Monroe with a focused, heavy force he hadn't been expecting. It knocked the Quaffle loose, spinning towards the Hufflepuff goalposts.

Still upside-down, James caught the ball and dunked it through the shortest hoop. The Gryffindor crowd went wild, an ecstasy that became unmanageable when someone noticed, "Look, Richards got the Snitch!"

Indeed, the burly captain had indeed finally tracked down the Snitch. In terms of total points, James had still facilitated more that match than his captain's final 150. Albus was on his feet, standing on the bench in the stands. Marcus Westfold, a few benches down was jumping up and down, roaring in excitement. Cassandra hadn't been lying about his Quidditch obsession.

The delirium transferred straight from the pitch to the Common Room, where there was a swinging party. Muggle audio equipment didn't work in Hogwarts, but Fred Weasley had mastered a little charm to make various household objects sing, and with a little bit of teaching, he managed to get a ten-piece band out of pots and cauldrons swiped from the kitchen.

James didn't seem to touch the floor that entire night. Either he was jumping between pieces of furniture, shouting out toasts and reenacting plays, or he was being carried on the shoulders of his team and house.

Richards was getting some attention too, though mostly from the seventh-years. He had flown well, but not with same spectacular style James had, and besides, he was old news. James was ten assists away from the school record, and, sitting on the shoulders of Pierce the Prefect, he vowed to smash that record by the next game.

Rory and Rose were in one corner, commenting on the celebration with amusement. Neither of them were really the kind of people to get carried away by sports riots. Carter was in a chair near them, reading a book instead of participating in the party, probably by his own decision, but Sarah felt like everyone should celebrate.

She pulled up a chair next to him. "You've been pretty quiet tonight," she commented.

He shrugged. "I guess that should tell you about how comfortable I am with all of you."

Sarah was confused. She thought he had generally been social and friendly with them. "I thought I did," she admitted. "What do you mean?"

"Oh right," said Carter blandly. "I forgot I haven't explained my view on talking. It's obligatory when you meet someone new, right? Meaningless introductions, for nothing but shallow surface insights. When I'm friends with something, I pick my words more carefully, imbue them with a little more meaning."

Sarah laughed, giving him a strange look. "You're a funny kid," she said. "And you read too much. But I think I understand what you're saying."

Carter nodded. "Thank you, sincerely. Most people think I'm just crazy."

"Doesn't mean I agree, mind you," she added. "Talk is cheap, in my opinion."

Carter thought a while, selecting his words carefully. "Talk has whatever value you appraise to it."

"That's why you like books, isn't it?" inferred Sarah. "Every word is deliberate."

"In a good book, yes," confirmed Carter. They paused for a moment in silence. "If you're concerned about people not enjoying the party, I'd look closer in your group of friends."

Sarah looked over. Rory seemed to be having a good time. But that wasn't where his gaze was directed. To her great surprise, Albus was sitting on the hearth in front of the fire, a sour expression on his face.

Sarah sighed. "Why do I always have to solve everyone else's problems?"

Carter laughed, but then, with a straight face, replied. "Because you're good at it."

Taken a bit a back at his sincerity, she thanked him a little uncertainly, and continued on to talk to Albus. He couldn't look more different than at the end of the game.

"What's wrong?" she asked, plopping down beside him before he had time to put on a false expression of enjoyment. Albus tried to smile, but he knew that she had already seen him pouting.

"I could have done that, you know," he said. "What James was doing. And I could have caught the Snitch a dozen times before Richards. I saw it all the way from the stands once or twice, but Richards was too busy paying attention to his team."

"Yeah, you did look frustrated whenever he was talking to the team."

"And so now James gets all the attention, and Richards is useless, hanging out with his seventh-year friends in the corner," Albus continued as if Sarah had never spoken. "I'm good enough to share that praise. Not that I need the attention or anything," he clarified. "I'm not needy, just, when I see my brother getting all of it, and everyone thinks I'm famous just because of my Dad, and that I haven't done anything by myself..." he trailed off.

Sarah nodded sympathetically. She had heard this before. Last time she had just counseled him to wait, and he hadn't taken it well. This time she was going to be nothing but a listening ear. "I guess I'm not really living up to the family legacy or whatever. My dad was always trying to escape his fame, wasn't he? And here I am jealous because my brother gets a little recognition."

Sarah waited for an appropriate amount of time, but disagreed. "I don't think so. Your father was only trying to get away from fame he didn't feel he deserved. Like for things his mother had done, your grandmother. He was okay with everyone celebrating when he won at Quidditch, because those times it was his work that had payed off, not luck or other people's sacrifice, like whenever he came face-to-face with Voldemort."

Albus looked confused. He looked at Sarah, then back to the party, then back to Sarah. "Thanks. That was actually pretty meaningful. Who are you, Carter?" he laughed.

"So did you know about his whole putting value in words thing?" she asked.

"Yeah, I thought that was common knowledge."

"Not for me," replied Sarah, a bit defensively.

"Huh. And normally you're so good at reading people."

"Hey!" replied Sarah, smacking him on the arm.

"What? That wasn't an insult."

"Well it sure felt like one," she replied jokingly.

"Oh, so now you're arbitrary in addition to being bad at reading people."

"You tell her, Al!" inserted James, who had withdrawn from his crowd of admirers. This time Sarah smacked him on the cheek, softly obviously, without any actual anger, but enough to show that she was dangerous.

"Violence!" sighed James, "The tool of the lazy, the desperate and the..." Sarah raised her hand again, daring him to continue with the grin on her face, "...the divine, amazing people like Sarah!" He backed into the crowd, bowing conciliatory. Sarah shook her head in mock anger.

Albus sighed. "I just can't be peeved at him when he's right there in front of me, you know?"

"I can only feel peeved when he's right there in front of me, so no, I don't," replied Sarah jocularly. "And hey, if you want something to cheer you up, weren't you going to show us your Invisibility Cloak tonight?"

"Oh yeah! I forgot with all the excitement of the game." He paused in thought. "Meet me here at...let's see... the party is going to be going on for a while so lets say... two in the morning?"

"Two in the morning? Are you crazy?"

"Sarah, there are higher goods than sleep," Albus reminded her.

"Not to me," she grumbled.

Albus paused, giving her time to ruminate. But even Sarah was an eleven-year-old at heart, and no amount of sleep was cooler than an Invisibility Cloak.

"So you'll do it?"

Sarah nodded, but rebelliously.

"Great, meet you here." Sarah sighed as he turned and ran back up to his dormitory. It was going to be a long night, but the sleepless morning would come all too soon.

So what do you all think? Leave me a review, and don't spare me your thoughts. I'm studying English at college, so I actually need the criticism. What do you think of my diction? Sentence length? Paragraph length? Dialogue? Chapter length? Would you prefer chapters half the length, but with double the frequency of updates? What about my characters? I'm open to criticism!