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I'd been very glad to see Harry in the castle again. He'd grown quite a bit since the last time I'd seen him, but he still seemed to have that mischievous air about him. I hadn't known I'd miss it, but I'd been dearly disappointed when none of those sorted into Gryffindor after seemed to have any desire to be fun. Certainly I didn't want the level of disorder that Peeves brought with him. That pest had never learned how to behave properly. Just thinking of students having to deal with that sad bastard makes me pity them.

Nevertheless, it had been incredibly amusing watching Harry and his friends avoid trouble year after year. They'd always been willing to take on Snape. That Slytherin bat had always been a little too full of himself, and it had been satisfying to see him taken down by wit instead of the brawn that James Potter had always insisted on using. So when Harry had returned to the castle, I had been looking forward to more good times among the Gryffindors. What happened instead was distressing.

His classes were – as expected – eventful. Especially once the new term started. Not only did he have a new student, but he'd been visited by an old friend. I had hoped that an American student would bring in a little flavor to the class – but she'd only brought terror and fear so far. The other students were frightened of her. Including the Slytherins, although they also regarded her with an amount of reverence that spooked me. I hadn't seen anything like it since Tome Riddle had been a student, and it scared me, to be perfectly frank.

When Hermione had come, when she'd shown such concern over the new student, I had been sure that she'd say something to Harry. Maybe she'd see the change in him. But she hadn't stayed long enough. She'd left – as always, to do her research. I'd sighed when she left, watching her storm from the castle in a huff, her hair frizzing out around her in a puff as she unconsciously infused it with magic. I'd turned back to the castle stairs to find Harry standing there, the boyish grin that had been so long absent firmly affixed to his face. For a brief moment I'd given in to my hope, and I'd approached him. He hadn't been receptive.

Several times after that I'd crossed his path. It had seemed to depend on the day as to how receptive he'd be, which was a far cry from how he'd behaved when he was a student in these hallowed halls. I took the opportunities afforded me by his snubbing to observe how others acted towards him. It said just as much as how he acted towards them.

I'd been surprised to see him less receptive towards Minerva than he was towards the tutor who had accompanied the new student. He had been very wary at first. He'd given the other wizard a wide berth in his classes, but he'd also made certain that the other wizard knew Harry was the one 'in charge' so to speak. The paid had been rather entertaining to watch in defense class as they sparred. The student in his charge, however, hadn't seemed to possess the prowess with her wand that he did. It was possible that she was only acting, but it had resulted in several meetings between the wizards, Minerva, and that girl. At one point I half expected them to fire-call the States and try to raise a relative. That, of course, was when I'd learned that her parents were dead.

"Miss Swan, because you're of age, there is no part of wizarding law that allows for another party to be called in to help you improve your grades." Minerva layed her glasses down on the desk, the forefinger and thumb of her left hand pinching the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath, hunching her shoulders slightly before dropping her hand and looking back at the witch. "This is a perfect example ofwhy Hogwarts does not accept transfer students. We never know the amount of discipline that you've been required to hold in another school. As an adult, we expect certain behaviors of you." She paused, pursing her lips as she leaned back in her chair. Miss Swan, for her part, appeared completely unconcerned with the proceedings.

Understandably, Minerva had been irked by the evident dismissal. I didn't blame her. I'd ensconced myself in a wall so that she wouldn't know I was eavesdropping. That witch had a tendency to be less than understanding when it came to what she considered an invasion of her private discussions. Normally, I would have gotten my gossip like most of the living in Hogwarts. From the portraits. But they seemed to be very tight-lipped where this particular witch was concerned. To say I wanted to know what kind of hold she had over everyone would be a vast understatement.

Minerva stood and rounded her desk, eyes affixed to the tutor. "When I agreed to let you into the school, I understood that you would be tutoring her, helping her to keep pace with the other students." He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. "I appreciate that she has improved a great deal in Transfiguration and Potions. In that respect, I have no issues at all with your tutelage." Pursing his lips, the wizard nodded. The headmistress then turned her attention to the other wizard in the room. I let my eyes look to Harry. His muscles had tensed as she looked at him. He likely knew exactly what was coming, and he didn't appear to be too keen on the idea. "For some reason, though, she has continually received poor marks in Mister Potter's class." Minerva's voice was tinged with irritation.

"I'll remind you, Headmistress, that this was intended as a guest position and I was not expected to be teaching it full time." While I could certainly understand him wanting to make his point, Harry could not have picked a worse moment – or a worse enemy. Minerva might be known for being calm and collected, but I tended to think of that as her 'keeping it close to the vest', if you will. I certainly didn't have any desire to be around when she blew her top. I didn't even want to be on the same island when that happened.

"I am aware, Mister Potter." I hadn't heard her use that tone outside addressing first years. From his wince, Harry had made the same connection. "Regardless, the fact is that Miss Swan simply isn't able to keep up with her classmates in Defense. So we have two options available to us. She can either receive private tutoring from you, Mister Potter." Harry's face blanched at the idea. For some reason he didn't seem to want to spend time alone in a room with the witch. "Or she can withdraw for the rest of this term, and re-test at the beginning of next term."

"Unacceptable!" The girl's private tutor had stood quickly at the suggestion, clearly affronted. I couldn't blame him. After all, his own ability to help the girl keep pace with the courses was at issue. If she failed, his reputation was at stake, and any potential future employers would be more apt to consider other tutors. On the other hand, asking for assistance from the course's professor would not be a complete denigration of his talents. It could be seen as an admission of limitation, or as a cunning way of making certain he didn't spread himself so thin he couldn't help her where she needed it most.

Harry's jaw had dropped at Minerva's statement. "A-alone? Surely not..."

One of the portraits chuckled darkly, approaching Harry from behind. "What's the matter, Potter? Afraid of a few minutes in a room with a witch learning Defense?" Harry's face took on a mulish expression he had become well known for during his time as a student. "That's odd." The portrait moved into another frame, so as to speak in Harry's other ear. "It never seemed to bother you in your fifth year."

Though his wand had dropped into his hand and he was known for making rash decisions, Harry did manage to keep his temper well enough that he didn't start singeing portraits. It certainly wouldn't have won him any favors throughout the castle, which might have been a motivating factor. Either way, even though his hand shook with the energy he was repressing, he did manage to keep from destroying the headmistress' office.

The witch in question raised her wand, lighting the tip. "I'd like to voice my opinion on the matter, if all of the blustering is finished." Both wizards blushed a bit at the rebuke. "I have no intentions of leaving for the remainder of term." Minerva's eyes flashed briefly. "Please, allow me to explain." I'd say this for the girl, she certainly did know her audience. Minerva waved a hand in acquiescence. "It would be very difficult for me to re-enter the school next year, even if I were able to bring my prowess up to a level acceptable to you, and not suffer the ridicule of my housemates." She stared into Minerva's eyes as she spoke, appealing to the Gryffindor humanitarianism with finesse worthy of a Slytherin. "You can appreciate, I'm sure, how that would interfere with my studies for next term, and then we'd be right back here as we are now." Leaning back in her chair, the younger witch slid her wand back up her sleeve. She'd certainly caught the attention of the room – even the portraits were listening attentively to her argument.

"I can certainly understand Professor Potter's reluctance to see me in a private setting. I'm certainly it wouldn't allay his fears any to have another adult male present, as then the rumors which spread about this castle would only be even more imaginative." I'd never known a wizard could turn green and red at the same time, but Harry was doing a fair impression of those Muggle Yule trees Albus had been so fond of over the years. "And it would hardly be fair, Headmistress, to ask to avail ourselves of your company on every evening that Professor Potter deems it necessary to meet with me." She turned to Harry then, and I could clearly see her suppressing the urge to laugh. "I imagine that this wouldn't be so much of an issue if I were a young year student? Or if I were a younger student in my year? After all, I'm certain that it's not only females that spend time propositioning you, Professor."

The portrait that had goaded Harry was standing with his head buried against his cloak-covered forearm. I could only imagine that he was trying to stifle his laughter, since his shoulders were shaking. I was careful to keep myself hidden in the wall – one look at me and Harry would never speak to me again. A glance to Albus' portrait showed the expected twinkling eyes, and a glance to the wizard under scrutiny showed that he was in danger of turning into a plum. His nostrils were flaring and his skin had taken on an unhealthy color. Nevertheless, he managed a nod.

"Then the problem is a question of propriety." The girl seemed to have lost traction, as that's where she ended her statements for several minutes.

Minerva wasn't known for her patience when she wanted answers, something Albus had exploited greatly over the years if only to file her on occasion. "Yes, Miss Swan. That assessment, however, doesn't present a solution. Have you one, or were you merely speaking simply to hear your own voice?" The flash in the girl's eyes startled me. I'd only seen it once before, and that was many years before her birth. It was a clear promise of retribution for embarrassment. I didn't envy Minerva her duty in keeping this little witch in line. Given how tight-lipped the Bloody Baron had been about the girl's parentage, I began to wonder myself if she might have been some distant relation. It wasn't unheard of, after all.

"The solution is a simple one, Headmistress." Though the words weren't forced through clenched teeth, they certainly weren't offered pleasantly. "You can simply cast a spell to see if the professor has taken any undesired liberties with my person."

Her own tutor nodded, offering to cast the spell. "I'd be happy to cast it myself if it would save you the trouble, Headmistress."

Minerva steepled her fingers, something I didn't see her do often. I'd seen several of the other headmasters make that same gesture over the years, though. Perhaps it was something that came into the wizard or witch when the office was assumed, and the person in it was accepted by the castle. It always happened whenever there was an issue of trust that conflicted with an interest of prudence. It would be imprudent of Minerva to trust this wizard with the only copy of the spell, but also imprudent of her to dismiss his offer casually, practically announcing that she didn't trust him. She compromised.

"I will concede to your casting if you will also concede to mine." His lips quirked in a half smile as he nodded. "Very well, then. Let us get on with it."

I shouldn't have stayed in the room then. It was my own fault, of course. And I'd been a fool to think that Minerva hadn't noticed my presence. She had. And she took full advantage of it. When she cast her spell, she wove a witness into hers. Me. Whenever Potter and the girl were to be alone, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I'd be whisked to them by this spell. They'd be none the wiser either. Because I was hiding in the wall while she cast it, I'd be consigned to a wall whenever it was enforced. Oh, I moved during the spell to try to counteract that, but I didn't get very far before she'd finished, grinning smugly when she had. Her magic was strong enough to cast it and make it happen, too. The really clever thing, though, was in how she worded it. She made sure that no one in the room besides the two of us – and possibly the portraits – even had a clue what she was actually saying.

Never cross a Scotswoman. They'll always get you in the end.


I'd been having a nice discussion with some of the third year Gryffindor girls when I felt the spell activate again. I was convinced this girl had some other motive, but I certainly couldn't convince Minerva of it. No matter how much I told her that the witch didnot need assistance with Defense, she insisted that the grades she was bringing in simply didn't bear that argument out. I'd managed to squeak out a small farewell before being whisked into the wall of yet another darkened corridor. I knew why harry didn't want to meet in a classroom, but it seemed to have escaped him just how bad it would look if he were seen in a dark hallway with her. That boy was far too naive.

"So that's how you do that!" A smile was plastered on the girl's face as she watched Harry's wand movement. She placed her fingers along his wrist. I felt my eyebrows rise to my hairline as I saw her thumb tracing the artery along his wrist. It pulsed rapidly, even though I couldn't note any change in his breathing. Whether he was nervous or excited I wasn't sure. She managed to infuse her voice with just the right amount of innocence. "Can you show me again... Professor?" The last word was clearly separated from the rest. It was obvious to me that she didn't have pure intentions. I wondered if Harry simply didn't notice, or if he liked to dance with firelight.

He coughed gently, clearing his throat before he answered. "Certainly, Miss Swan." I could have sworn I saw a blush spreading into his cheeks and creeping down his neck. She did not move her hand from his wrist as he went through the motions again. I felt my eyes rolling in their sockets at the obviousness of her tactics. To his credit, Harry didn't give her the satisfaction of a base reaction. Sadly, his voice cracked when he spoke next. "You see how it's done, then?"

Her smile couldn't be described as anything other than coquettish as she leaned up to him, placing her mouth scant inches from his ear. "I do." Her voice was hardly a whisper, but it carried well in the empty corridor. Harry shivered at the sound and I bit back a sigh. He might be chronologically a man, but he was still a lad in so many ways. Too busy trying to deal with a dark lord during his youth to have a proper go of it with a lass, he'd never learned how to best handle situations like this. Many times I'd voiced my anger at Albus for his ways of handling the boy over the years, but naught was left for me to rail at other than his portrait at this point. Were the man still around, I would gladly have brought him down from his tower, out of whatever pleasant dream he may have been having simply to witness the results of his folly.

My lip curled in disgust as Harry turned to her, their faces so close I was certain if he'd had any kind of malady she'd have caught it straight away. I dearly hoped he had, as the Muggles say, 'brushed his teeth'. Whatever he had been prepared to say to her seemed to die in his throat as he swallowed rather audibly. Sweat dripped lightly from his forehead, but he made no move to wipe it away. I couldn't blame him. It was certain she'd notice the motion and take it to mean she was having an effect on him. Which was not in any doubt, but if he were as smart a lad as we had always thought he certainly wouldn't want her to know it outright.

Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. I suppose she thought it was sultry and seductive, the little pink tip just peeking out between her teeth. To me it looked like she hadn't fully chewed her meat at dinner and could use a lesson in mastication. Regardless, the lad seemed intrigued, which was something I couldn't idly sit by and allow. All the same, I had no interest in losing favor with him. Harry had been a good lad since his first year, if a bit misdirected over the years. I supposed this time was no different than the others. I couldn't help but be disappointed that he still 'fell for the same tricks', as it were.

The girl leaned closer to Harry. If there had been a time for someone to sneeze, that would have been it. Or for Peeves to drop through with a bucket of ice water, dousing them like fourth years caught necking behind the tapestries. The poltergeist had gained some measure of respect for Harry, though. Seeing someone fight in a war, willing to die, will do that. I would that my end had been so noble as many of those who had gone on during those battles.

Rousing myself from my thoughts, I could barely make out what the girl was whispering. "...happy to show you. Professor." Given Harry's squirming, how quickly he stepped away from her, there was no doubt as to the subject of her offer.

"Miss Swan, I am flattered." Her smile broadened, even though he continued to step away from her. "But I am your teacher."

She advanced on him, and he did something that I'd never actually seen a wizard do. He backed up until he was flush against the wall and she could trap him between her outstretched hands. I happened to be hiding in the stretch of stone directly behind him, and I couldn't help the scoff of disgust I gave voice to. Her eyes narrowed briefly before she dismissed the noise, apparently as a figment of her imagination. That, or she simply didn't care if he was disgusted. Her left hand was planted against the wall as she leaned in to Harry, the fingers of her right hand sliding along the front of his robes.

"Oh, I know that. Professor." The tongue again. I could have sworn she learned only three seduction tricks. And the Bloody Baron had always told us that Slytherins were cunning. Ha! "That's why I want you to teach me." For Merlin's sake, the girl was predictable.

Harry grabbed both of her wrists, pushing her away slightly. She pouted, her lips pressing forward grotesquely. I had never understood why all of the young women thought such behavior was becoming. It made them wholly unattractive. So brazen in their attempts to gain attention. I frowned, even though they couldn't see it.

"Look, Miss Swan –"

"Isabella." Harry swallowed again. That boy must produce more saliva than a common mutt. My eyes rolled around in their sockets again. The back of my skull, from the inside of my head no less, was beginning to look far more appealing than the scene unfolding before me. I could have simply floated away, but I was determined not to let the boy throw away his entire future on this witch.

"Miss Swan." The flirtatious look fell from her face at the severity in his voice. I was delighted that he had finally put his foot down, but I could have gone through another millennium without feeling the sickly flow of dark magic that surrounded Harry as he moved them both away from the wall. "I am a married wizard." She hummed and leaned her weight against him, pushing him back against the castle wall. "Madam!" The witch shushed him, placing a finger against his lips. She leaned forward, clearly intent on kissing him.

Her mistake was when she closed her eyes. She might have actually gotten her lips pressed against his if she hadn't. But since she did, the moment before she made contact, he moved to his left, releasing her wrists. I'd never been more glad to be a ghost as when her lips connected with mine. Since I was already dead, I couldn't taste anything, so I wouldn't have to remember the moment for the rest of my days on the earth. It was actually enough to make me consider moving on, leaving this shallow path I'd chosen as a pale imitation of life.

I would, though, long cherish the look on her face when she opened her eyes. Oh, I have no doubt that my own eyes reflected the shock I felt when she fell forward. But her own showed an entire gamut of emotions that made the experience worth it. Anger, shame, fear – the last I suppose because she thought she might have been discovered for the little viper I thought her to be. Regardless, the look on her face as she scurried back from the wall, hand covering her mouth, was well worth my fleeting discomfort.

Harry did his best to stifle his laughter. He was classy enough to not want to embarrass the child. He coughed into his hand, carefully wiping the smile from his face before turning to her. "Are you all right?" She nodded, but kept her distance from him. "Why don't we just forget that this happened, Miss Swan?" Her head bobbed rapidly, and she stepped away from him. I'd foolishly thought, when she walked into the dark recesses of the corridor, that the entire fiasco was over. I couldn't have been more mistaken.


My apologies for the delay in posting. I've been very ill of late.
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