Well, I couldn't sleep tonight... so I finished my chapter! At least someone in the world will benefit from my insomnia tonight (hint: it won't be me come the morning). And with that, I give you chapter 11 and I wish you goodnight.

Enjoy.


Learning to Fly, Among Other Things

Zoe returned to the Slytherin common room from her father's office with a smile on her face. She couldn't believe that he had not only agreed to allow her to pierce her ears, but that he'd actually performed the procedure right then and there. She had thought it was going to take weeks—maybe even months—of badgering and persuasion to convince him of the notion. But it hadn't. Zoe didn't know what it was that she had said that finally made him give in, but whatever it was had worked.

And the little, round, silver studs that he'd made for her were wonderful. They were simple, yet elegant; they were perfectly shaped and smooth and Zoe loved them. It had been quite the sight to see her father make them as well. It wasn't often that she saw such impressive displays of magic from him, after all, for he had always said that knowing and being able to perform magic was no reason to be physically lazy and he abhorred witches and wizards who used their abilities for tasks as simple as tying one's shoes.

Of course, he'd taught Zoe how to tie her shoes when she was only four years old, not long after she had started talking. She smiled again at the memory of that—how patient he had been as she tried, unsuccessfully, over and over until, finally, she had a crooked and loose, yet adequate bow on the top of her left trainer.

"What did Professor Snape want?"

Zoe was jolted out of her reverie by Lottie outside of her dorm room, just as she was walking in. Lottie followed closely behind her.

"I went to the library to look for you, and Dev said that Professor Snape had come and you had left with him."

Zoe grinned and pulled her hair away from her ears to show her friend. Lottie's jaw dropped.

"You got them pierced?! They look so pretty! I love the—"

"Professor Snape pierced your ears for you?" a skeptical voice sneered from the other side of the dormitory.

Zoe hadn't even noticed that Cecilia was in the room, but she was suddenly faced with a dilemma. What was she going to tell everyone? After all, the first year Slytherin girls had been talking about this for the better part of a week now—the fact that Zoe's ears had never been pierced—and now she suddenly had pierced ears.

At first, Zoe had thought all the talk rather silly, but as the week had progressed and the more they'd talked about it, the more she had really wanted it done—even more so when Persimmon and Cecilia had talked about going with their mothers to pick out their first pairs of earrings. That's why Zoe had tried to approach Minerva first; she had gotten the feeling that this was something mothers and daughters were supposed to do together (or at least godmothers and goddaughters, in her case), not fathers and daughters. She had really only asked her father because Minerva had cautioned that he would probably not react very well to the news when he inevitably found out.

Zoe had agreed with that part and had therefore been very frustrated when he hadn't understood why it was so important to her. He'd forbidden it without fully hearing her out.

But in the end, he'd consented and Zoe found it difficult to even think about those few days that she had been cross with him. He'd fully redeemed himself in her eyes.

"I didn't say that," she reluctantly countered Cecilia's question. Well, she hadn't said that; that was true… "I, er… I wrote to my father over the weekend to ask and he agreed and came here to pierce them for me. Professor Snape only found me so that he could take me to his office where my father was waiting."

Lottie nodded, believing the lie, while Cecilia frowned and then turned back to the homework she was working on.

"I love the earrings. Did your father buy them for you?" Lottie asked.

"No," Zoe said. "He made them for me from an old inkwell stopper."

"That's brilliant!" Lottie exclaimed.

"Yes, it's so brilliant that her father couldn't afford to buy her something new, so he had to make her earrings out of junk," Cecilia sneered, not even deigning to turn around to look at Zoe.

Zoe frowned. "He could afford it if he wanted to buy them," Zoe shot back. "But why should he? He used a lot of really hard spells to make these and I like them better than something he could buy anyway."

"Of course you do," Cecilia said, turning to glare at them. "That's always what common people say. It's too bad he didn't get you diamonds, it would have made you less plain-looking."

Then the girl rose from her chair and left, her light-red hair swaying behind her and her nose raised snootily in the air. Zoe glared at the door for several moments until Lottie put a light hand on her arm and pulled her toward Zoe's four-poster where the two collapsed.

"Don't listen to her, Zoe. She's just jealous. I think your earrings are beautiful and they mean so much more because your father made them for you."

Zoe nodded absentmindedly. Why did she continue to let Cecilia get to her so much?

"Am I plain?" she asked her friend in a quiet voice.

"Of course not," Lottie said. "Cecilia's just being mean."

"Yeah, I suppose she is," Zoe conceded. She raised her hand up and touched her newly-pierced lobe, trying to let the putdown roll off her back. "She's just jealous."


It was during the third week of October when a notice was posted in the common room informing them of their first flying lessons. The Slytherin first years had talked about little else since. It had become so annoying to Head Boy Lukas Andersen that, during their weekly study session the day before the first years were scheduled to have their first lesson, he told everyone that they had to at least sit at the tables for the required hour and act as if they were studying. As long as they didn't get too loud in their conversations about broomsticks, flying, and Quidditch and after they had all agreed not to tell Professor Snape, they'd been allowed to discuss the upcoming event to their hearts' content.

"Have you ever flown on a broomstick?" Lottie asked Zoe.

"Not by myself," Zoe confessed. "Papa once flew me around on one at my godmother's house in Portree when I was six. But I haven't been on one since then."

"Was it fun?"

"I thought so. I can't wait to ride one on my own, though."

"I'm a bit afraid," Lottie said. "I always thought riding on brooms was a fairy tale and now I'll get to actually do it… What if I fall off?"

Zoe smiled reassuringly to her friend. "You won't. Look how fast you've picked up magic. Flying should be easy."

Lottie nodded.

The first years' first flying lesson turned out to be quite the event. First years from every house were brought together under the tutelage of a witch named Gwenog Jones who was said to have been the greatest player the Holyhead Harpies had ever had. She was in charge of flying and oversaw Quidditch practices and matches while her brother, Garvey, was in charge of physical education for all classes.

Coming into the Quidditch pitch with Lottie, Zoe had anticipated nothing less than chaos, but the opposite had actually been true.

The children had been divided into two groups—Gryffindors with Ravenclaws and Slytherins with Hufflepuffs—and shown the very basics of dealing with a broomstick. The eager first years had stood in block formation, a broomstick on the ground at their rights, as rules had been expounded and safety guidelines had been conveyed.

Zoe had stood next to Lottie, practically bursting with excitement, as Miss Gwenog (as she had asked that they address her) and Mr. Jones walked between the lines, taking turns speaking in what was obviously a well-rehearsed, tag team speech.

"We don't care how much flying experience you have had prior to your coming to Hogwarts," Miss Gwenog had said. "We expect you all to follow our instructions to the letter."

"Flying is fun and exciting, but only if everyone works to be safe," Mr. Jones had ended.

After that, the two groups had split apart, walking to opposite ends of the pitch. Once Miss Gwenog had shown the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs how to get the broomstick to rise into their hands and had watched as each student hovered tentatively a few feet above the ground, she had introduced them to what she called flying mentors. These were volunteer students from the upper classes who had considerable experience in flying and who were being trusted to assist the new flyers more one-on-one in technique and safety.

Zoe had stayed close to Lottie as they had been further divided and matched with one of the flying mentors, but had been appalled when she found out who her mentor was to be.

"Potter, why don't you take Agnew, Wickham, and Dalrymple," Miss Gwenog had instructed as none other than James Potter stepped forward holding a rather nice broomstick. The school-issued brooms absolutely paled in comparison to it.

"Come on, grab your brooms. Let's move over here," James had said, moving toward the side of the Quidditch pitch, very near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Once away from the other students, James looked them all over. "I was watching you all from the stands and none of you seem too bad. Miss Gwenog wants to make sure everyone can fly a low lap around the pitch before lunch, even if it's slow. So, who wants to try first?"

"I will," Thomas said almost instantly. Zoe could tell that he was already well-versed in flying.

"Brilliant," James said. "Mount your broom and go for it. Just don't fly too high."

Thomas didn't waste any time taking to the air and soon he was merely a blur among the other first years circling the pitch.

Lottie took considerably longer to make her way around, but Zoe could tell that her best friend was exhilarated by the experience—she smiled nearly the entire time. Though, the girl did have a bit of a problem slowing down and coming to a stop so that she could dismount. James had had to take to his broom in order to show Lottie the proper way.

After that, it was Zoe's turn.

"Have you ever ridden a broom before?" James had asked her as she had mounted, positioning herself comfortably on the seat of her broom.

Zoe looked toward Lottie and Thomas who were thoroughly engaged in conversation about their experiences around the pitch. She turned back to James.

"Of course, I've ridden a broom before," she stated, pushing off the ground with feigned confidence. As she hovered a few feet from the ground, James mounted his own broom and came up to meet her.

"Well, I want to get in the air. Do you mind if I fly beside you?"

Zoe merely shrugged and James looked down at the other two Slytherin first years below them.

"Oi! Stay here. We're just going to fly a lap," he called. Thomas and Lottie both nodded and then went back to their conversation.

Zoe and James started out slow, perhaps ten or twelve feet above the grassy field. As they flew, she tried to give off the impression that they were merely traveling at the speed she preferred, but she had a feeling she wasn't fooling James.

"How'd you get to be a mentor anyway?" she asked, unprompted. "Aren't you only a second year?"

James glanced over at her. "Yeah, but I've been flying for a long time—I practically grew up on a broom. My mum used to play Quidditch for the Harpies with Miss Gwenog, so she knew that I knew what I was talking about. And Dad's an ace Seeker, so some of it's inherited, I suppose."

Zoe nodded, though she sensed a bit of arrogance from the boy.

"Are you ok?" James asked her a minute later.

"Yes. I'm ok. Why?"

"You're gripping the handle really tightly. Your knuckles are all white. Do you want to slow down?"

Zoe rolled her eyes briefly, but quickly looked forward again, fearful that she'd lose her balance.

"No, I don't want to slow down. Can't we go faster?"

James wrinkled his brow as they made their way around the goalposts on the far end of the pitch. "We can if you want…"

"Let's race!" Zoe shouted.

"I don't think that's a good idea—" James said, but Zoe had already laid herself down on her broom in order to pick up speed.

She instantly regretted it as the broom shot forward quite quickly. She hadn't realized that it wouldn't be a gradual acceleration. However, as she gained speed and felt the wind as it whipped her hair back, Zoe found herself relaxing, getting the feel of the broom beneath her. Tentatively, she pulled up slightly and felt the broom rise higher. She evened it back out as she heard a shout next to her.

"We aren't supposed to go so high in the first class!" James said, moving his own broomstick closer to hers.

At this point, Zoe was grinning ear to ear. She had no idea that flying would be so much fun, so relaxing, and easy. She barely acknowledged James's warning as she took her broom lower, but continued to speed back to where the two of them had left Thomas and Lottie.

"Zoe, slow down!" James shouted behind her, but Zoe was giggling ecstatically, unable to contain her mirth. She looked behind her. James was right on her tail, but didn't seem too concerned until she saw his eyes widen in an instant. She turned to look ahead of her just in time to dodge around a tree branch.

Where had the tree come from? Exhilarated at her close-call, Zoe took her broom lower, skimming past tree trunks before turning about to see that she had ventured away from the Quidditch pitch. She could see the other fliers in the distance for a brief second before, suddenly, she collided in mid-air with a somewhat solid object.

Luckily, she only fell four or five feet into the leafy ground layer of the forest. However, she landed rather ungracefully and awkward as her face came down into the dirt painfully. She heard a groan very near her.

"Watch where you're going," James said, clutching his middle.

"Are you all right?" Zoe asked, the excitement of her flight dissipating instantly.

"Yeah… You just knocked the wind out of me. I wasn't expecting you to turn so quickly. Do you fancy yourself a Chaser?" he said, his tone slightly scathing.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—" Zoe suddenly spied the broomstick she had been using lying on the ground a few feet away. The handle had broken from the impact, splintered just above the bristles.

"Oh no," she said.

"It's just an old Cleansweep. Nothing to cry over."

"But it isn't mine!"

"Relax, I think they expect a few brooms to get ruined during flying lessons every year. Why do you think they keep buying those ancient models?"

Zoe crawled over to the broom to examine it. She didn't think there was much that could be done with it. She looked over at James.

"Did your broom make it ok?"

"Yeah, it's all right," James said, holding it up to show Zoe as he stood and dusted off his clothes. "Good thing, too. Dad would have killed me if I'd broken his old Firebolt. Come on. We're going to have to walk back."

Zoe gathered her broken broom and caught up to James. It didn't take long for them to make their way out of the Forbidden Forest and back toward the pitch. It also didn't take long for their return to be noticed by Miss Gwenog and Mr. Jones who came flying over to them with rather angry expressions on their faces.

Half an hour later, Zoe sat by herself on a bed in the hospital wing leaning her head back as she nursed a sore and bloody nose. The blood had started flowing profusely not long after Miss Gwenog had severely reprimanded James and her for breaking not only many of the rules of flying lessons, but for entering the Forbidden Forest. She'd then sent James back to check on Thomas and Lottie while Zoe had been escorted to the hospital wing by Mr. Jones. Unfortunately, it turned out that Madam Pomfrey had been called away on family business and Zoe was instructed to wait there for her Head of House, who Mr. Jones assured her was well-versed in magical first aid.

Zoe was well aware of the first aid skills of her Head of House, but at that point, she couldn't have cared less about her nose. She was in so much trouble.

A few minutes later, the doors to the hospital wing opened and her father strode in, a scowl upon his face. Zoe immediately averted her eyes to the floor as he approached to stand beside the bed.

"Keep your head back, silly girl, until I can stop the bleeding," he said with a bite to his tone. He put the palm of his hand on her forehead to tilt it back and Zoe came face-to-face with his wand. A quick incantation later and Zoe could feel the blood flow stopping.

"Tergeo."

She felt the blood being cleaned from her face and then her father put one hand behind her head, cradling it while he used the fingers of his other hand to delicately feel the bones of her nose, checking if it was broken.

"Does this hurt?" he asked.

"A little."

He ran a finger down the length of her nose multiple times.

"I don't believe it is broken. You're lucky."

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" Zoe asked tentatively, ignoring her father's medical assessment as her eyes practically crossed, watching his hands as they now touched along the bones under her eyes.

He stopped what he was doing and they locked eyes. Stepping back from her, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a very fierce frown.

"You bet you are."

Zoe grimaced.

"Exceeding the speed limitations set for lessons, venturing away from the pitch, exceeding altitude restrictions, destruction of school property, and entering the Forbidden Forest," he lectured, listing off her transgressions and making Zoe squirm. "Were the rules not set out when you began lessons this morning or did you merely find them too insignificant to follow?"

"Yes, sir. They were set out," Zoe said, once again looking to the ground. She figured the second part of his question was rhetorical. There was a moment of silence.

"What were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?" he asked slowly.

"It was an accident. I didn't mean to fly into it. I was just... going where the broom took me."

A condescending eyebrow raised above her father's eye. "To the best of my knowledge, brooms do not decide the destination for the witch or wizard who rides them."

"That's not what I meant," Zoe grumbled. She was explaining it all wrong. "I didn't know that I would like flying so much. I may have gotten a bit… carried away."

"Indeed," her father said scathingly. "I understand that you were racing Potter around the pitch. Racing, young lady?"

"You know about that?"

Her father's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Jones explained to me what you told him and Miss Jones."

"Oh," Zoe said, looking down to her feet. The jeans she was wearing were dirty from her collision and fall and there were a few dots of blood on them.

There was a heavy sigh near her and Zoe looked up to see that her father had a resolved look upon his face now.

"You will have detention on Monday—"

Zoe's jaw dropped. "But, Papa, Miss Gwenog already gave me a detention!"

"Interesting," he said indifferently. "You will sit another with your Head of House. I told you and your classmates on your first night that foolishness brought to my attention would be punished and this was, indeed, quite foolish. Additionally, you will find yourself a dictionary where you will look up the word 'forbidden' and copy its definition fifty times to be handed in to me at the beginning of your detention. You will do that for me, your father."

Zoe groaned and turned to stare out the window. Three punishments this time for the same offense? It really was not fair.

"Mr. Jones also voiced to me the sentiment that you seemed to be a natural flyer."

Zoe turned back to look at her father, who had taken a seat on the hospital bed beside her.

"Really?"

He inclined his head. "Yes." He looked at her sternly. "Listen to your instructors and follow the rules next time. Even "natural flyers" in Slytherin House will find themselves quite literally grounded for the rest of term if they can't do as they're told. After all, flying is not a required activity at Hogwarts; it would be simple enough to assign you some other task during that time period."

"Yes, Papa."

He nodded and put a hand on her back, pressuring her to stand. "Go to the Great Hall. I'm sure the rest of your classmates have already come in for lunch."


As the door to the hospital wing closed behind Zoe, Severus let out a long, exasperated sigh of relief. That girl and her daredevil antics were certain to give him heart palpitations.

After the initial, Occlumency-contained bout of panic at hearing that his daughter had injured herself during her first flying lesson, Severus had been filled with a sense of pride that the girl had taken to flying so easily. The truth of the matter was that she hadn't been exposed to the mode of transportation much growing up and he'd been concerned that she would be fearful of it or simply too uncoordinated to fly. Severus had always preferred the quicker commutes associated with Apparition and the Floo network, after all, and had felt a sense of resentment toward flying a broomstick based upon his continued dislike of a certain, deceased, Gryffindor Quidditch player. And, of course, there was his rather…more complicated…flying technique that he'd picked up many years ago.

Despite all that, Severus himself had been a natural flyer as a boy. Had he come from a more influential family, he may have even played Quidditch for Slytherin. As it was, he hadn't, which added to his continued resentment of Quidditch players. Perhaps it was a bit irrational, but those feelings were hardly going to change now.

Rising from the hospital bed, Severus strode toward the door and exited to make his way to the Great Hall. He was feeling a bit peckish and the thought of a nice cup of tea to soothe his troubled thoughts regarding his daughter's recklessness on a broomstick was highly appealing.


Having served Miss Gwenog's detention the Sunday following her flying lesson, Zoe sat in her father's detention on Monday evening, resentfully dusting every square inch of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and scraping old chewing gum from under the student desks. As she had worked her way through the desks, it had occurred to her that she'd had plenty of time during her flying lesson to talk to James regarding his knowledge of her and her father and, yet, she'd completely forgotten to do so, despite her having several opportunities with him alone by which to do so.

Therefore, as she had walked back to the castle with Lottie, Caroline, John, and Glendora following their next flying lesson—Zoe having followed the rules this time—she spotted a group of six boys sitting under a tree on the grounds. James was among them.

Deciding she couldn't let any more time pass, Zoe turned to her friends.

"I'll see you guys later, I have something I have to do."

"Is everything all right?" Caroline asked, her face lining in concern. Of everyone in the group, Caroline was the worry-wart.

Zoe gave a subtle smile. "Yes, it's fine. I won't be long."

The others nodded and turned back to the castle as Zoe turned to head in the opposite direction.

She approached the group of Gryffindor boys with little apprehension. She had a mission and she wasn't going to let sheer numbers intimidate her.

As she got closer, however, a red-haired boy looked up and locked eyes with her and, in that instant, her resolve faltered, especially as the other boys turned to see what had piqued their friend's interest.

Zoe paused for a moment and took a fortifying breath, then continued forward to stop before James Potter who was sitting on the ground leaning up against the trunk of the tree. She glanced around her briefly before addressing James.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked.

"What do you want to talk to him for?" one of the other boys piped up.

"I just do," Zoe said simply.

The red-haired boy stood then and approached her. He was taller, but not by much, yet Zoe figured he was at least a third year, simply by the bulk of him—not that he was necessarily bulky. He just seemed older.

The boy got close to her.

"Slytherins shouldn't be talking to Gryffindors," he said.

Zoe wrinkled her brow.

"Is it against the law?"

"No."

"Then what's the big deal?"

She looked around the boy and locked eyes with James who had been watching the entire confrontation with apparent amusement.

"Can I talk to you alone?" she asked again.

James shrugged then and stood, dusting off his jeans, and started to walk away from the rest of the group. They didn't look too pleased with that decision, but they accepted it and went back to their conversations as soon as Zoe went to follow James.

As they walked, it became apparent to Zoe that James didn't want to simply get out of hearing range, but away from the prying eyes of his friends as well.

When they came to a small grove of young trees near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, James finally stopped and turned to Zoe, watching her expectantly.

"Well?" he asked when Zoe had remained silent.

Zoe shook her head, trying to clear her mind.

"Who was that boy? And why'd you bring me all the way out here?"

James wrinkled his brow.

"Is that why you wanted to talk to me? To find out who those others are?"

"No. I was just curious. That boy didn't seem to like me and I didn't do anything to him."

James shrugged and sat down in the grass, looking up at Zoe.

"He's my cousin, Louis Weasley, and he doesn't generally like Slytherins. It isn't personal."

"Right," Zoe said, annoyed. As the weeks had progressed, she had started to realize that there were a lot of silly prejudices among the houses. She was rather curious as to why they were there in the first place.

"Well? What did you want to talk to me about?"

James was rather impatient, Zoe noted. She blinked.

"You know."

"I know what?"

"About me."

James gave Zoe a mischievous grin and leaned back on the grass, laying his head back on his arms.

"Oh, your big secret, you mean… Yeah, I know that you're Professor Snape's daughter."

Zoe crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, looking down on the black-haired boy with a frown.

"How did you find out?"

James shrugged, looking away from her and picking at the grass next to him.

"I hear things," he said. He looked back up at Zoe. "Why don't you want anyone to know?"

Zoe narrowed her eyes at James and took a seat on the grass next to him. "My father doesn't want anyone to know."

"Why?"

Zoe shrugged. "He said that other students would try to take advantage or something because I'm the daughter of a professor; like they would try to get me to help them with homework. He didn't want me to deal with that."

James snorted. "I don't think they would. Teddy's dad teaches here and he never told me that he had any trouble when he was going to Hogwarts. I don't think Angus has had any problems either."

Zoe wrinkled her brow. "Teddy Lupin? You know Teddy Lupin?"

Now James wrinkled his brow. "Well, of course I know Teddy Lupin! My dad's only his godfather."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

James's jaw dropped. "It isn't exactly a secret. Everyone knows that."

"Well, I didn't," Zoe said hotly. She looked away from James then. "Won't we get in trouble for being so close to the Forbidden Forest?"

James shook his head. "Maybe at other parts of the grounds, but not in the Memorial Grove."

"Memorial Grove?" Zoe asked.

James gave Zoe a perplexed look. "Er, yeah, you know, the grove of trees that were planted in memory of all those who died on the side of the Light in the Battle of Hogwarts? Remember?"

"Oh," Zoe said again. She hated how dumb she felt, but that was all she could say. After all, she had no idea what James was talking about. There was a battle at Hogwarts? She wondered when it could have been—perhaps during that war Minerva started to tell her about years ago, but was interrupted by her father.

"You aren't very good with history, are you?" James asked then. "I mean, everyone knows about the Memorial Grove. There's an event here toward the end of the last term every year, to honor those fallen. We don't have classes that day, which is wicked except if you don't want to go to the ceremony, you have to stay holed up in your dormitory while it's going on, so you should definitely go to the ceremony this year."

Zoe nodded absentmindedly. "I take it you came to the ceremony last year, then?"

"Well, yeah," James said, that perplexed look on his face again. "Even before I started Hogwarts, my parents brought me every year. We sort of have reason to come."

At Zoe's questioning look, James pointed at the tree directly to his left. Zoe rose and approached the dogwood. As she neared it, she noticed a tiny, brass plaque was attached to the trunk and a name was engraved there. She touched it delicately with her fingers.

"Fred Weasley?" she asked, turning back to James.

James nodded solemnly. "He was my uncle—my mum's older brother and my Uncle George's twin."

Zoe looked back to the plaque. "I'm sorry," she said, genuinely.

James shook his head. "It's all right. He died a hero."

Zoe nodded and the two children were silent for a while.

"Was that Louis' dad?" Zoe asked curiously, coming to sit next to James in the grass again.

James turned onto his side, propping his head up in his hand. "What? No. Uncle Fred died way before Louis was born. Louis is my Uncle Bill's son."

Zoe nodded. "So, your mum has three brothers, then?"

James let out a bark of laughter at that. "Ha! No. Six."

"Six?!" Zoe said and then quieted. She didn't want to seem rude.

James merely smiled. "Yeah, my Uncles Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron are all Mum's brothers."

Zoe nodded again.

"You haven't heard of the Weasleys, have you?" James inquired then.

"No. Are they famous or something?" Zoe asked.

"Not famous, just well-known. They all fought in the war before we were born—one of the few entirely pureblood families to fight for the Light. My dad was practically a part of the family when he was growing up because he was my Uncle Ron's best mate, then he married my mum and really became a part of the family."

"I noticed there are a lot of Weasleys here at Hogwarts. Are you all related?"

James rolled back onto his back, looking up into the sky. "Yeah. Cousins."

"Really?"

"Really. Plus, Teddy and Grace Lupin are practically cousins because we see them at every holiday—maybe even Angus Longbottom."

Zoe was in awe. She could never imagine having so many people in one family. It was such a foreign concept to think about when she came from just her father and Minerva in her little world—unless you included Ollie, which Zoe typically did. She supposed she could add Minerva's sons Finlay and Ewan, but Zoe had only met them two or three times in her whole life and they were older than even her father was. She just couldn't understand having cousins, much less cousins her own age.

Something within her longed for that kind of a family.

"How do you know Teddy, anyway?" James asked after a minute.

Zoe locked eyes with him. "I know Grace too. My father brews the Wolfsbane Potion for Mist—er, Professor Lupin. Sometimes the professor brings them when he comes to take the potion."

James nodded. "Remus always said his brewer was the best. Makes sense that it's your dad."

"Why does that make sense?"

James's eyes widened. "Because your dad is, like, the best Potions Master in Britain. He used to teach Potions here, back when my dad was in school. Don't you know that? He's in books and stuff."

"He writes for potions books," Zoe clarified, but James shook his head.

"No… He's in books about potions. Other books too—history books."

"Why is he in history books?"

James rolled his eyes. "Because he—"

"Come on, James! Let's go play Quidditch!"

Zoe and James both looked up across the grounds. Apparently, his friends had grown tired of waiting on them to come back. A boy Zoe didn't know was jogging toward them as the others stayed back away from the edge of the small grove of trees.

"Sorry, I have to go," James said, standing up.

Zoe bolted to her feet as well. She shot a quick, cautious glance at the boy coming toward them and hissed quickly to James.

"You didn't tell me how you knew," she said.

James shrugged. "I overheard Mum and Dad talking. Your face in detention just confirmed it, though," he said with a grin.

Zoe's eyes widened. "How do they know?" she asked, her voice sounding panicky.

James leveled Zoe with an exasperated expression. "My Dad's Head Auror. He works at the Ministry. And he's Harry Potter. He knows a lot of things."

"What does your dad know?" The other Gryffindor boy had finally approached them. He stopped, panting a bit from his jog and looked between the two.

Zoe glared at James, willing him not to say anything to this other student. James, seeming to understand, turned to his friend and grinned.

"He knows that Gryffindor is going to smash all the competition for the Quidditch Cup this year, especially if I make Keeper at trials next week."

The other boy rolled his eyes. "If you make Keeper. The other part's right, though. We're going to smash Slytherin… No offense," he said, turning to Zoe.

"I don't follow Quidditch," Zoe said simply.

Both boys looked flabbergasted.

"You don't follow Quidditch? What's wrong with you?" James asked.

Zoe was growing defensive now. "There's nothing wrong with me. I've just never played and I don't follow it."

"Well, you'd like it if you did," James said. "This is Remy, by the way. Remy Frakes."

Zoe nodded to the boy.

"And Remy, this is Zoe... er, just Zoe."

Zoe narrowed her eyes at the boy, though she couldn't fault him. He hadn't called her Snape, after all.

"Zoe Agnew," she stated then, holding out her hand to Remy, who shook it uncomfortably.

"Come on, James! Everyone is waiting," Remy said then, as he started to run off. "Nice meeting you!" he called over his shoulder to Zoe.

James turned back to Zoe. "Better go. I'll see you around." He turned and started to walk away from her.

"Have you told anyone?" Zoe asked, jogging to catch up to him. When she was beside him, she matched his stride.

James shrugged. "No."

"Well, are you going to tell anyone?"

"No. It's not my secret to tell."

Zoe paused for a moment, stricken by his response. She hadn't really expected him to say that. Up until now, he had seemed like a bit of a prat, bigheaded, and always wanting attention. Once he had learned the truth, she had figured he would take the information back to his friends in Gryffindor and have it spread around the school before Zoe could even warn her father. Now, it seemed, that would be unnecessary—if she believed James, that is. Of course, he hadn't said anything so far and their detention together had been weeks before.

"Thank you," Zoe said meekly, catching up to James once more.

James merely glanced at her before picking up his pace considerably and sprinting toward his friends. Zoe watched him push Louis playfully before the entire group of boys began to race each other in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. Zoe took a deep breath and turned toward the castle, intent on finding Lottie.

She had just stepped into the shade of the castle when Zeus swooped down and landed on the wide, stone banister up to the main doors of the school.

"Hello, Zeus," Zoe said pleasantly, reaching out to stroke the great-horned owl's feathers. She noticed then that the bird was carrying a folded note. Delicately, she untied the missive from its leg. Instantly, Zeus flapped his wings and rose back into the air, disappearing over a turret.

Zoe wrinkled her brow, looked down, and unfolded the note in her hands.

Zoe—

Minerva is in London most of the day meeting with the Board of Governors, but she asked that I relay an invitation to you for tea this afternoon. She would like you to meet her in her office at four.

Papa

Zoe smiled. She hadn't seen Minerva except from a distance in the Great Hall since before term had started. She rather missed her godmother.

With that, Zoe happily ran up the rest of the stairs, pulled the large doors open, and entered the castle. She needed to figure out an excuse to get away from her friends at four…


*Insert desperate plea for reviews here* *Note to self: try not to seem TOO desperate* ;-)