Headmaster's Office, October 14th, 1996, 20h00.

Professor Dumbledore appears unusually tired while sitting at his desk as Harry enters the spacious office. "Good evening, Harry, I see you've had a busy time while I was away." He then proceeds to briefly discusses the necklace incident (including Katie's transfer to St. Mungo's) before moving on to this evening's agenda. "First things first, let us keep up appearances."

Looking down upon the desk, Harry sees a blank scroll of parchment magically fill with further notes on Apparition.

"This will serve to appease the curiosity of others, as usual. But do have a look as it would be helpful in reducing the risk of Splinching yourself," says Dumbledore.

A sudden urge to question Dumbledore on his recent whereabouts comes to Harry's mind, but the latter instead lets it slide. He'd rather not come across as being disrespectful to the greatest wizard in existence.

"You seem a tad thoughtful, Harry; might you be wondering as to my recent trips away from school?"

Having not felt any disturbance in his mind, Harry knows that Dumbledore's purely guessing. "I'd be lying if I said 'no', Professor."

"Then why hesitate to ask?"

"Because I'd rather not come across as being disrespectful to you, sir." Harry spots the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black giving an approving grumble while feigning sleep.

As for the current Headmaster, Dumbledore cannot help but smile. "I shall tell you in due course. For tonight, however, let us first resume where we have left off..."

The topic of Merope Gaunt and Caractacus Burke is discussed and observed in the Pensieve. But not even the mention of Slytherin's locket triggers any sense of remembrance on Harry's part (and there's no reason for him to remember it now either). After all, it has been over two years since he'd slipped it around his neck.

Moving on, Dumbledore permits Harry to enter the Pensieve for the Headmaster's (or rather, 'Transfiguration Master' at that point) first encounter with Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"I like your style, sir," says Harry, addressing present Dumbledore as his past self enters the orphanage. "Plum velvet suit?"

Dumbledore gives a slight chuckle as the memory moves on. Eventually, after watching past Dumbledore persuade the matron in letting him visit Tom, Harry finally gets to see his hated nemesis as a child.

"Look at that brat, he already looks suspicious to no end."

Dumbledore politely quietens Harry as the memory continues. And by the time it's finished, they return to the Headmaster's office where Dumbledore discusses various elements of the memory with Harry. These include the fact that young Riddle was already using his powers for malicious intent, as well as Dumbledore pointing out two essential observations:

"I trust that you've noticed how self-sufficient, secretive, and apparently friendless Tom happened to be? That is the key difference between him and yourself. While Voldemort saw, and still sees, ties with others as being a great weakness, you have learnt to surround yourself with friends and family."

Harry scoffs. "Voldemort knows so much about magic and power, and yet he's so extraordinarily lacking as well."

"Precisely, Harry! How different do you think Tom Riddle's fate might have turned out had he learnt to make peace with his deceased parents? Pause for a moment and think how things would be if he had not murdered his paternal family?"

"Would anything have really changed?" asks Harry, in a rather cynical manner. "His father's senses were basically ensnared into creating Tom junior in the first place. The Riddles would've never accepted him no matter what."

"If there's one thing I've learnt over the years, Harry, it's that people are capable of change." Dumbledore leans back in his chair while speaking. "As I've said before, that is why I've hardly, if at all, questioned your beliefs around Bellatrix Lestrange. But she is not the topic of this evening; allow me to draw your attention to another essential observation: Tom's habit of collecting trophies."

"Yes, he had stolen himself quite a bit of souvenirs back there. Is that important, sir?"

Nodding, Dumbledore stands up from his seat. "All in due time, Harry; this piece of information will be important at a later stage."

Understanding himself to be dismissed, Harry exits the office and returns to his common room. Many eyes now follow his movements, and many ears attempt to eavesdrop on his conversation with Pansy's group near the fireplace.

"Oh, that's cool!" says Daphne. "So the Headmaster's hoping to minimise the risk of you Splinching yourself? Can we share your private lesson information, please?"

"I'll think about it," says a smug Harry, happily masking the true intentions behind his meetings with the Headmaster. "But don't expect me to be able to Apparate and stuff just yet."

"I'll bet you'll never be able to do the smokey-style that my mom is capable of," says Pansy. "Although, come to think of it, there's really no difference between that one and the normal way. It's just aesthetic for my powerful mom witch, I suppose."

As the week moves on, Harry's once again juggling Quidditch, coursework, discreet practice, a Slug Club meeting, and his Prefect duties as well.

For the first, he hosts a session involving every member of his own selected team (including the reserves). For the second, it's the usual studying and ploughing through loads of excessive homework. Thirdly, it's off to the Room of Requirement to practice with his private group, although he also makes time to perform Snape's assigned tasks as well. Fourthly, Harry joins Hermione (as Pansy still declines) in spending another evening up in Slughorn's remarkably spacious office on Thursday evening. It's here that Harry, and the rest of the group, are introduced to Gwenog Jones herself. But she ends up being far more conceited and boastful than many would've thought. Lastly, Harry ensures that he lives up to the badge entrusted to him by Professor Dumbledore himself.

This is quite evident on Friday morning as Harry begins his free day with a stroll after breakfast.

BANG!

"My Fanged Frisbee!" says a startled third-year Hufflepuff, watching her obliterated disc fall in tatters within the first-floor corridor.

"It's a banned item," says Harry, clutching his wand while shaking a finger at the student. "If I catch you throwing such things again, then it'll be House points or detention as well."

"But you didn't have to blow it up it like that, Prefect Potter!"

Harry shrugs. "Well, it would've just ended up being useless in Filch's office anyway. Now, why don't you go do something more constructive like schoolwork or making Quidditch items of support? Or did you forget that your House is playing against Ravenclaw tomorrow morning?"

In addition to enforcing the school's rules, Harry also makes time to mentor any struggling Slytherins. These include a group of first-years who've been assigned to seek him out.

"Madam Hooch said if we don't come and ask you for your help, then we'd surely fall to our deaths," says a first-year boy.

Once again, Harry turns the opportunity to his advantage by discreetly adding in his own practice. Therefore, while the students practice their broom-mounting skills at the training ground, Harry briefly flies around with his eyes shut. He does, however, cease his own practice in favour of assisting the youngsters over the next hour.

Although they don't make a complete turnaround of their struggles, the youngsters at least manage to summon and mount their brooms more consistently.

"Madam Hooch is totally gonna be impressed," says a first-year.

"Hopefully," replies the other.

Harry grins and basks in the accomplishments of his efforts. "Don't forget that you need to be, and remain, confident when calling up those brooms."

Speaking of confidence and brooms, Harry ends up rendezvousing with a pleasant bit of company on the Quidditch pitch after lunch.

"I see you're hard at work there, ma'am."

Turning around midway through her warm up drills, Cho Chang stands beside her Nimbus 2001 and smiles. "And I hear you've actually been acting like a Prefect this year."

"Need any tips on how to best prepare for your match? It's almost a year since I literally became you, remember?"

Cho blushes a slight bit. "It's still awkward just thinking about that, you know. But no, I'm perfectly fine on my own out here."

Harry gets the feeling that Cho prefers training without interruption, and the former therefore backs off towards the stadium's exit.

"Don't forget to see that Hermione Granger actually finishes her Counterspell for Marietta, okay?"

"She's working on it," replies Harry, before heading from the stadium to the library. And it's here that he spends the rest of his morning in addition to returning after lunch. As expected, Harry stumbles across his beloved Gryffindor sitting at a desk piled with various textbooks. "How can I be of service to you, Minister?"

Even if the statement inadvertently places pressure on Hermione, she can't help but smile regardless of her stressful workload. "I could use some stress relief, Head Auror."

"I'd prefer Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Harry moves to stand behind Hermione's chair and massage her tense muscles. "Geez, you're tight, ma'am."

"Mmm, that's it, oh yes... harder, Harry."

"Shhhh before people around us get other ideas." He leans to kiss her on the forehead just as she looks up from her seat. "What bit of light reading are you doing today?"

"Three subjects, Harry; so I'd appreciate some peace and quiet now."

"Of course, ma'am." Bowing in obedience, Harry backs off and leaves Hermione to her studies as the day carries on. But with little else to do, he spends the remainder of his afternoon battling through any leftover homework.

Saturday brings Hogwarts' second Quidditch match of this year, and it's Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff in absolutely freezing conditions outside. With the skies a darkened grey, and torrential rains battering against the snow-covered Quidditch field, it's one shivering day for those in the crowd.

"Let's keep warm!" says Harry, grouping up with Pansy and the girls as they huddle near the barrier of Slytherin's stands. "What's the score, now again? It's difficult to hear through all this wind!"

"How must I know?" says an almost yelling Tracey.

Through the torrential downpour, Harry spots blurs of yellow and blue zipping about. And even though the game carries on at a remarkable pace, the howling wind drowns out any form of commentary within the stadium. Back and forth goes the action as shots are saved, goals are scored, and Bludgers whacked about.

Pansy shakes Harry's arm and points to a spot near the Ravenclaw hoops. "Hey, look over there!"

From what Harry sees through his Omnioculars, someone has just smashed a Bludger which has knocked Zacharias Smith clean off his broom. "Serves that annoying piece of rubbish right, HAHAHAHA!"

"I hope it hit him in the mouth," says Sally-Anne, whose soaked brunette hair constantly blows against Harry's left cheek. "Some of my distant family were Hufflepuffs but nowhere near as obnoxious as Smith."

"Enough of this rain!" Harry draws his wand and casts a Stationary Shield Charm (Protego Totalum) around his group of six. "Ah, who needs an umbrella anyway?"

Unfortunately, the deflection of droplets ends up splattering against those nearby—and many students groan as they step away from the shielded group.

"Prefect Potter, please cover us as well!"

Harry turns to spot a bunch of soaked first-years eagerly approaching, and he therefore widens his shield to encapsulate the youngsters too. "There, there, young ones; now hold still while I dry you off with the Hot-Air Charm. And stop laughing at me, Prefect Parkinson."

Pansy and the girls happily observe as Harry casts his spell across the four first-years. His efforts soon prove successful as their robes are dried and a cloud of steam dissipates through the Shield Charm.

Finally, after countless minutes of battling in the cold, it appears that Team Ravenclaw has taken the win out here today. Scores of boisterous supporters, in blue and bronze, eventually troop up the snowy slopes towards the cosy interior of the castle.

Although Harry hears the final score as having been 100-230, a second commotion later breaks out in the Entrance Hall between two students:

"That was a cowardly, and cheap, thing to do up there, 'Head Girl'," says a seething Smith while sporting a bandaged arm. "You had no right to use a Beater's Bat and cost me more than a few goals!"

"That's what you get for talking rubbish about Harry Potter to throw me off my search for the Snitch," says Cho.

"He did what?" Pansy 'politely' makes her way through the encircling crowd to approach Zacharias Smith. "Let me hear what you said so I can kick your arse appropriately."

"All I said was the truth: Potter's less of a Chosen One than people might think; he hasn't even bothered to continue our old practice meetings."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Harry enters the Great Hall to avoid hearing such comments yet again. His afternoon feast soon proves far more likable than enduring a never-ending cycle of comparison (to Neville) and complaints.

"Don't worry," says Millicent, just a few minutes later. "Chang scared off Smith with the threat of House points and detention for his derogatory remarks against you."

"That's my Head Girl." Harry grins smugly in knowing there are still a few who are in support of him. "Although I do wonder if she's so super friendly because Slytherin's playing Ravenclaw in November?"

Regardless of Cho's possible intentions, Harry leaves the 2nd of November to Nott and the latter's usual team of Crabbe, Goyle, etc. But, come matchday, it's a far cry from their rampant domination against Gryffindor as Cho's side takes the fight right up to that of Nott's. In fact, Harry opts to rather sneak his way into Hogsmeade, via the tunnel behind the One-Eyed Witch, than watch scum like Crabbe and Goyle play again.

"That's what I'm talking about!" whispers a beaming Sirius, rendezvousing with Harry in the basement of Honeydukes. "Gotta love our two-way mirrors, eh? Okay, stay close while I handle things with Ambrosius."

Hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak, as well as preparing to cast the Obliteration Charm once outside, Harry sneaks beside Sirius as they reach the ground floor of Honeydukes.

"Have you found anything during your inspection, Mister Black?"

Sirius shakes his head and informs Mr. Flume that 'all is well' before exiting through the store's front door. And from what Harry sees, Hogsmeade appears all but devoid of life as its streets remain empty on this chilly day.

Barely five minutes later sees Tonks coming down the village's High Street. "What was that about? I already checked Honeydukes yesterday—" She gasps as Harry pats her on the leg. "Are you kidding me? Sirius!"

"Come on, Tonks, there's bunch of gits playing for Slytherin today and we've got this place safely locked down anyway."

Tonks balls her fist and scowls before suddenly grinning mischievously. "Oh, alright then. I could always use a watch dog out here today."

"Now that's almost rude," says Sirius, and Harry's inclined to agree.

"I'm not talking about you." Tonks laughs and swiftly casts a Human-Presence Revealing Spell which she uses to look directly at Harry. "If you're gonna be sneaking out of school, then you might as well make yourself useful out here. And don't even think of skiving on me, child, because I'll be casting this spell every so often while we patrol the town. It's your fault for having touched my leg earlier, silly."

"Oh, come on!" says Sirius. "Fine, you can steal him for now, but Harry's definitely joining Fleur and I for a drink at the Three Broomsticks later on."

"Yeah, and he's gonna have to work for that leetle reunion." Tonks gives a sinister-like laugh and starts walking down a side-street. "Alright, I know you're still there so listen up: we're on the lookout for anything and everything suspicious out here. And trust me, recent years have made people even worse than before."

"Vulpy, I'd suggest not speaking to invisible me so much," says Harry. "Anyone that might be looking out their windows might think you're someone who's escaped from St. Mungo's."

"Want me to Metamorphose into an escaped weirdo? Wait a minute..." Tonks stops, pauses for thought, and gives a tight-lipped smile. "Oh, I see... 'Vulpy' for Vulpecula? That nickname sucks anyway, I'd have thought of something like Vulpeculiar."

Harry looks at Tonks and sniggers. "Keep talking; it's fun watching you blabber to yourself out here in this deserted road, dear cousin."

They resume their cautious walk and inspection right down this side-street as Harry speaks. "So, uh, are we ever going to discuss your 'relationship issues'? Now's as good a time as any."

Tonks checks her surroundings and leads Harry to a small alleyway nearby. "I was kinda hoping that you'd ask. Well, it's Remus; I just... he's been such a lovely friend ever since the whole Order thing came about at Sirius' place. And the worst part is how such a lovely guy just doesn't get a thing from life: he lives in a shack, has basically no friends besides us, and would definitely be hated if people were to find out about his you-know-what, etc."

Harry pulls off his Cloak while hidden from public eye in the alleyway. "Sounds like you're falling in love out of pity; you sure that's a good idea?"

"I certainly feel more than just 'pity'! However, pranks and kicking arse are my thing; I never really got into this whole romantic stuff before, you know? But you, little Casanova, have more experience than me." She ruffles Harry's hair which causes the latter to grin.

"Lupin's a nice guy, sure, but he's also—as I've kinda judged over the years—probably never had a relationship in his life yet. He'll be shocked, scared, and just avoidant of romance in general."

"That's encouraging, thanks." Tonks' hair turns a slight shade of mousy brown as she stares at the ground.

"Hey, it's his loss if he doesn't end up falling for a gorgeous witch like yourself."

"Nice try," says a highly amused Tonks, "but my heart's on Remus from here on out."

Harry folds his arms and remains smiling. "Oh, so there was a chance for me before?"

Tonks says nothing and simply gestures for Harry to carry on speaking.

"Whatever, Fleur's prettier than you anyway... just kidding," says Harry, to which Tonks gives one devilish grin before Metamorphosing herself into...

"You mean zis girl is prettier zan me? Oh, bonjour Monsieur, let us make ze love in zis alleyway, right 'ere and right now. Do you like eet 'ard and fast, 'Arry? Ees zat ze kind of love we normally make?"

His cheeks a deep shade of magenta, Harry clutches at his sides while howling with laughter at Tonks' Fleur impersonation. "Enough! You're mental!"

"Where ees my sexy seelky uniform? Because I know you get one beeg boner for me wearing zat, 'Arry—"

A sudden, and noticeably loud, bang comes from further down the side-street, and Tonks immediately drops her act while reverting to her usual pink-haired self.

"Did you just hear that? Didn't sound like someone going about their normal activities, did it?" She throws the Invisibility Cloak over Harry then draws her wand. "Let's continue our Remus discussion some other time, okay?"

"I got your back, Miss Auror, and don't you worry: if the going gets tough, well, there's always Avada Kedavra in my arsenal."

Tonks throws a punch meant for Harry's shoulder but ends up hitting his head.

"Ow!"

"Better that than ending up back in Azkaban, child."

Jokes aside, they creep out the alleyway and immediately begin their sweep down the empty side-street. Here, many dwellings left and right remain either locked or, in some cases, recently boarded up. And given that things could potentially escalate at any moment, Harry takes the cue and remains well-hidden. Not a word is said as he sneaks and continues to obliterate his footprints in the snow.

"No matter what," whispers Tonks, "do not remove that Cloak and expose yourself."

Their search carries on through each adjacent alleyway as well as down the side-street itself. In following Tonks' advice, Harry whispers two essential spells: the Human-Presence-Revealing one, and Scarpin's Revelaspell.

"Homenum Revelio... Specialis Revelio... There doesn't appear to be anything hidden here, Tonks."

"Keep searching," she whispers from the corner of her mouth. "Here, I'll alert the rest... Vermillious!" A jet of red sparks shoots into the air, above the rooftops, from Tonks' wand. "Alright, that should alert either Sirius, Fleur, Proudfoot, or Savage that something's off in our—huh?"

Seconds later, another jet of red sparks appears approximately three streets away.

"Now the question is..." Harry pauses for thought while eyeing the second emergency signal. "Is that your pals or our troublemaker interfering?"

"Spoken like an Auror, heh, Mad-Eye would be proud," says a nodding Tonks. "But don't you worry, we've got enough people here to check out both sites of sparks."

Soon, Sirius comes rushing over with his wand in hand. "What's the deal?"

Tonks explains the situation as her group sets off in a sweeping search of the neighbouring streets. Minutes later, they approach the earlier bang's location: a smashed-in doorway belonging to a, thankfully, abandoned house.

"What Death Eater, or wannabe Dark Lord supporter, would waste their time attacking an empty house?" Sirius scratches his head and looks at a shrugging Tonks. "Or is Voldemort recruiting vagrants looking for homes these days?"

Another bang draws the trio's attention to a couple side-streets away.

"Over there, look!" Harry points to the sky. "Red sparks right where that bang occurred."

"Nice observation," replies Tonks. "Let's go—"

Two additional sets of red sparks suddenly appear just a few streets away from their preceding signal.

Tonks kicks at the icy ground and groans. "Now I know someone's probably playing the fool with us."

"I guess we gotta split up and see what the hell is going on around here," says Sirius. "You'd better take good care of Tonks, Harry."

"Will do."

"What? I'm the Auror here, you know!"

The group splits up in different directions, and Tonks checks every so often if Harry's still beside her during their investigation. But as they near the latest signal, it appears to have been set off as a hoax; no signs of damage whatsoever in this abandoned section of the village.

"This is a waste of an Auror's time—" Tonks shifts her gaze to a wall which runs along the pavement to their right. Then she suddenly draws her wand and casts, "Finite Incantatem!"

Harry spots a blur of movement, and only now does he realise that it's a Disillusioned, and shady-looking, wizard putting up a Shield Charm as his disguise is cancelled out.

"You Aurors are always putting your nose where it don't belong."

Tonks scoffs and aims her wand at the man who's dressed much like one would expect a Dark wizard to be. "Let me guess: you're a scumbag from Knockturn Alley looking to set up shop here? How many others are with you out here?"

The Dark wizard snarls while looking around at the empty street. "As if I'm gonna tell you. We don't have to worry about no Muggles and no Statute of Secrecy here... but now you come and ruin a good opportunity for business!"

Tonks fires her Disarming Charm first, but the Dark wizard quickly blocks and retaliates with a nasty Curse of sorts. And, judging by the man's use of 'we', Harry reckons there are more scumbags crawling around Hogsmeade at the moment. Therefore, while Tonks engages the Dark wizard, Harry casts more revealing spells and scans for any form of Disillusionment camouflage. In short, he's indeed her 'watch dog' here today.

"You people are so stupid in making so much noise," says Tonks, while blocking and counterattacking. "But, then again, that's why we've placed those enchantments around here. Bet you got a right fright when a simple Unlocking Charm did bugger all, huh?"

Hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak, Harry non-verbally shields Tonks as she continues battling the determined Dark wizard. There's no time to await reinforcements as the combatants let loose with jets of light flying from both wands across the street. There's no fun and games here, as Harry would often do in practice; no, this is duel not unlike from back at the Ministry, in April.

Switching from non-verbal to verbal (in order to improve his potency), the Dark wizard appears to have changed his priorities. It appears that he no longer cares for simply setting up shop...

"Avada Kedavra!"

Fortunately, Tonks has just enough time to step aside while her opponent briefly struggles to get his Killing Curse out. And it takes a fair few seconds before the jet of green finally streaks across the street—only to end up smashing in a boarded-up door.

"You just earned yourself a one-way ticket to life in Azkaban," says a livid Tonks, her expression no longer the playful woman that she normally is. In fact, Harry sees a bit of 'Bellatrix' in how Tonks furiously takes the fight to her opponent. "The one day... the one bloody day I try to have a decent conversation out here and it's scum like you who dares to interrupt me!"

The Dark wizard blocks Tonks' Hexes and frowns. "You Aurors always think you're so clever... Crucio!"

Tonks blocks the attack (via Harry's protection) then counters with an Expulso Curse that shatters the Dark wizard's defences. And before the latter can respond, Tonks disarms, stuns, then incarcerates him in ropes. "Well done on that Shield Charm, little Auror Potter, but I basically had things covered anyway."

"That was a rather quick duel, I'll admit," says Harry, obliterating his footprints as the Auror, Proudfoot, soon arrives on-scene.

"What, another one? Sirius and I just chased down this guy's pal across the village."

"Figures there had to be more than one Knockturn scum out here today." Tonks levitates the bound wizard and follows Proudfoot back towards Hogsmeade's High Street. "Hold up, is that duelling I hear?"

"Sure sounds like it!" Proudfoot hurries down a different side-street while Tonks (and the invisible Harry) remains watchful over the village's centre. And it's not long until Savage and Fleur return with an unconscious Dark witch bound in ropes.

"Now, will you stop questioning my duelling abilities? I was one of ze Triwizard Champions, and I was ze Duelling Champion a few times back in my school, Meester Savage."

The Auror, Savage, notes that it might be better to reshuffle their personnel in light of today's skirmish. "We should think about monitoring Knockturn, as well as Diagon, Alley more closely. I think either Proudfoot or I would be better off joining Williamson over there."

"Yes, eet would be best for you Aurors to rather focus on preventing ze swine from coming so close to 'Ogwarts in ze first place," says Fleur, although Harry wonders just how two Aurors can 'monitor' folks capable of Disapparating from Knockturn anyway.

Savage and Proudfoot swiftly Disapparate with the trio of Dark arts practitioners which leaves Sirius, Fleur, Tonks, and Harry still in the village.

"What exactly was the point of all that? Those Dark wizards just ended up making a racket and ending up arrested," says Harry.

"Like I said: people are getting worse these days with You-Know-Who being more active," replies Tonks. "I reckon those three wanted to run some smuggling operation here; probably thought they could cause havoc at Hogwarts with whatever crap they could sell from Knockturn Alley."

"I wonder if they were responsible for Katie ending up cursed last month?" asks Harry.

Sirius remains doubtful. "There's a slight chance, but I don't think those three were really involved. It's more likely we just stumbled upon a bunch of nasty opportunists here."

"Come on!" insists Fleur. "Let's get inside and 'ave ourselves a drink. 'Arry, wherever you are, you can 'ide under ze table, darling."

"Such a shame," says Sirius. "You're so old that Harry can't even meet up with you without having to sneak out of school."

Fleur huffs and walks, quite indignantly, towards the Three Broomsticks while the rest follow in line. "Why don't we just break into one of zese empty 'ouses so 'Arry and I can 'ave a decent conversation?"

"We ain't criminals, in case you've forgotten," says Tonks. "Besides, who can say no to a Butterbeer? And it'll taste even better for Harry now that he's drinking it illegally."

Upon entering the empty tavern, Sirius turns to whisper in Harry's direction. "We used to take turns sneaking out, in groups of two to three, for a drink. You know... James, Remus, and even that rat bastard back in the day."

"And back in my day, we used to enlarge our Butterbeer servings," says Tonks. "Too bad Madam Rosmerta's banned that behaviour; how boring."

They take their seats in a far corner at the back of the tavern, although Harry sits beneath the table.

"You know what? I will be joining 'im before Rosmerta arrives." Fleur swiftly ducks beneath the table and sits beside Harry, under his Cloak. "Eet is cramped as 'ell down 'ere."

"Better this than having you look like you're talking to the table," says Harry, eliciting a chuckle from Fleur.

"Zose two 'ad better not pass wind or I will be vairy angry down 'ere."

"Ha! We'll try but no promises." Sirius lowers his voice as Madam Rosmerta approaches. "Keep it clean under there, alright? It'd be hard to explain a shaking table. Oh, hello, Rosmerta... three bottles of Butterbeer please."

"Yes, that'll be two for Sirius and one for me," adds Tonks.

Madam Rosmerta furrows her brows while looking around. "Have I not seen Miss Delacour entering my tavern?"

"She's a little busy at the moment," replies Tonks, suppressing her grin as Madam Rosmerta fetches their drinks. "You lovebirds okay down there? Oi, I'm talking to you! Don't make me let one rip to get your attention..."

"We're trying to have a conversation down here," whispers Harry. "So, uh, Fleur, how've you been since we last spoke?"

"Spectacular, considering ze nonsense going on around ze U.K. nowadays." She stretches out and accepts their Butterbeer passed under the table by Tonks. "Mm-'mm, I never get tired of zis drink; 'ere, 'ave some before it's back to school with you."

Harry gladly shares the bottle of Butterbeer, with Fleur, beneath the table. And he soon leans back in a rather cosy spot against Tonks' chair.

"Sirius, I've got your godson between my legs here."

"Good on you."

Ignoring the remarks above, Harry wraps his arms around Fleur who returns the affectionate gesture. "I'll bet that Dark witch never stood a chance against you, huh?"

Fleur smiles and rests her head on Harry's left shoulder. "She put up a good fight, I'll give 'er zat. Truthfully, eet would've been nice if we could've duelled together again."

"At the cost of me losing my Hogsmeade privileges?" Harry sighs before resuming his conversation. "Professor Dumbledore might be lenient on me, but there's no way McGonagall would let this slide if she found out. Anyway, I'm surprised you're not considering a place in Magical Law Enforcement after all your Auror-assisting work."

"And why should I? Eet is as I've always said: 'Ermione is ze one who is going to go right to ze top, Pansy will be taking second place, and I will be aiming to replace Meester Crouch someday."

By absolute random coincidence, Mr. Crouch enters the tavern while accompanied by Auror Proudfoot.

"The hell?" asks a bewildered Harry.

"Speak of ze devil; we were just talking about zat old man right now!"

"Bartemius?" asks an equally baffled Madam Rosmerta. "I wasn't expecting any Ministry employees until this evening."

"Ah, Rosmerta, it's been yet another stressful morning in the office." Mr. Crouch removes his hat and picks out at a table in the centre of the room. "Hot cocoa and something exceptionally palatable to eat, thank you."

"Let's eavesdrop on Crouch," whispers Harry, and Fleur immediately nods with excitement.

"I love ze way you theenk, love."

Once his meal arrives, Mr. Crouch pays (and tips) Madam Rosmerta before resuming his conversation with Proudfoot. "Be grateful you're in that exciting line of work, because international relations can become wearisome over time. Dealing with You-Know-Who seems to be of little concern beyond our country, as many other nations are adopting a more wait-and-see approach."

Proudfoot appears quite surprised at these words. "Are they serious, sir? But surely it'd be best for everyone to pool their resources together and hunt down You-Know-Who? Don't they realise who we're dealing with over here?"

"Ah, but you see..." Mr. Crouch savours his meal before continuing. "For all the trouble You-Know-Who brought in my days of fighting, history speaks for itself. A lot of foreigners are under the impression that if Harry Potter somehow triumphed as an infant, then he's likely the key to sorting out our problem. And don't forget the Triwizard Tournament as well: the dragon, the lake, and the maze... not to mention clear proof of pulling off such an effective Killing Curse; those aren't normal for a fourteen year old student at all."

Relative silence fills the tavern as Mr. Crouch takes his time in finishing his mug of hot cocoa.

"I often get remarkably similar responses to my requests for international assistance: 'Train your Boy-Who-Lived', 'He's your apparent Chosen One,' or 'Your Dark wizard hasn't threatened Europe like Grindelwald in the past." Mr. Crouch sighs as he well and truly savours the last of his drink. "But I'm here to enjoy some time away from the office instead of discussing such irritable matters, Proudfoot."

"Understood, sir."

With nothing more to eavesdrop, Harry leans back (again between Tonks' warm, jeans-covered legs) and scoffs. "Well, now we know what plenty of overseas folks think about me."

"Do not generalise, 'Arry. Perhaps zey are a leetle jealous zat ze most famous boy is 'ere with us? Don't forget zat my people back 'ome are very liking of you; Madame Maxime 'ad said good words about you when we got back."

A soothing stroke along Harry hair (or rather, along his Cloak), has him directing his attention towards Tonks above.

"You alright there, little Auror? Don't let it get to you, because old grouchy Crouch always complains about one thing or another. Here, I'll order you another Butterbeer to lift your spirits."

Harry softly laughs. "I'm not crying or whatever, but I'll definitely take that free drink, yes."

"Watch and learn," says Tonks to Sirius at the table. "This is how you take care of your godson. Excuse me, Madam Rosmerta? Another Butterbeer over here."

"Oh please." Sirius places his orders as well, and it soon turns to a competition of who can spoil Harry the most during his illegal Hogsmeade trip. "Butterbeer again, Dora? You're lagging behind! Rosmerta, I'll have two slices of your finest cake, please."

"Zis is adorable," says a beaming Fleur. "Zey are like real family to you now, 'Arry."

While standing at the bar, Madam Rosmerta swiftly obliges the pair's erratic bunch of orders over the next few minutes. And, soon, even Mr. Crouch turns around to briefly glimpse their odd behaviour.

"Nymphadora, what exactly is going on back there?"

"Oh shit!" Tonks just about manages to smuggle a cake beneath the table (to a gleeful Harry) and smiles. "We're doing a bit of, uh, 'safety sampling' back here, Mister Crouch."

"Well, make it quick because there's no telling who might be lurking outside." Mr. Crouch stands up to take his leave. "An Auror should avoid spending unnecessary lunch time when there's an entire village to inspect."

Proudfoot accompanies Mr. Crouch as the latter exits the tavern and Disapparates to the Ministry. Following this, the Auror then returns to speak with Tonks at her table. "Crouch got a bit excited when we brought those three for questioning earlier; I got him while walking towards the lifts again."

"Figures he'd wanna get right back into the fight," says Tonks. "But his days with the law are long since gone."

Sirius agrees. "It's actually better if Crouch stays out the fight; someone as aggressive as him would end up dead or ambushed in no time. And trust me, I learnt that the hard way with Wormtail back in the day."

And Bella told me to warn you about that reckless attitude, thinks Harry while eavesdropping.

"I'll be out by the Shrieking Shack area, if anyone's looking," says Proudfoot, exiting the tavern to resume his patrols with Savage. Meanwhile, Tonks quickly holds a plate of dessert beneath the table.

"Here, eat a dick."

Harry resists the urge to laugh as Tonks spoon-feeds him a delicious bit of spotted dick pudding.

"Pudding? I can do better!" Sirius passes a bowl beneath the table. "Have some treacle tart, Harry."

"You two are going to be making 'im fat at zis rate!" says Fleur, checking to see if Madam Rosmerta's preoccupied elsewhere. "For you, Monsieur."

Harry spots Fleur swiping a strawberry off the table and holding it for him to eat. "Thanks a ton, guys, but I'm getting a bit filled up here."

"Quick!" says Tonks, as Madam Rosmerta's about to cross the room. "Get all the plates on the table before she thinks we're nicking her stuff."

In a matter of seconds, Sirius and Tonks reorganise their table while devouring any leftover desserts. And once Madam Rosmerta's finally tidied up above, Harry leans to rest his head against Tonks' inner thigh.

"You like being downthere, eh?" Tonks gives him a quick squeeze between her legs and laughs. "Come on, let's head to Honeydukes on your way back to school."

After exiting the Three Broomsticks, Fleur quickly ducks beneath the Cloak to kiss Harry on his cheeks. "Au revoir, mon chéri."

"You're not shopping with us?"

Fleur shakes her head and smiles. "I will go for a patrol around ze town while you, on ze uzzer 'and, should enjoy zis moment with your family."

"Don't wander too far by yourself, alright?" Harry's sheer concern earns him a tight hug from Fleur before she walks away.

Once the group of four have entered Honeydukes, Tonks immediately zips to the nearest few shelves. "Fizzing Whizzbees... check! Exploding Bonbons... check! Shock-o-Choc... check!"

Mrs. Flume approaches with a curious expression. "Can I help you, Nymphadora?"

Tonks smiles while hurrying from one shelf to the next in the green-coloured store with chequered floors. "No thanks, I'm just shopping for someone in need."

"We won't be too long," says Sirius, reassuring the Flumes that their village is secure. "Move, Tonks, and let me pick the good stuff! Let's see... Drooble's Best Blowing Gum... check! Liquorice Wands... check!"

Once again, Harry watches in amusement as Sirius and Tonks battle to spoil their guest on his (illegal) trip.

"Oi, we can't send him back with the whole store," whispers Tonks. "Okay, just one more..."

"Chocolate Cauldrons," says Sirius. "Nothing like a bit of Firewhiskey to help the studies."

They eventually pay for their goods and covertly pass the bag to Harry, beneath his Cloak. But in order for him to sneak into the cellar, and hence back to school, Harry waits for Sirius to distract the Flumes by discussing the recent Dark wizard event.

"Now's your chance," whispers Tonks, standing beside Harry at the front door. "They think I've got the goods here, so you're covered. Oh, and, um, stay safe until we meet again, alright?"

"Yeah, hopefully we can discuss your Moony love without interruption—" Harry beams as Tonks hugs him, and kisses him on the cheek, beneath the Cloak.

"Back to school with you, future Auror."

Harry's trip through the cellar, and back up to the castle via a secret passage, goes without incident. He then hurries off to the Slytherin girls' dormitory to deposit his goodie bag in his trunk. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

It appears that today's match is still underway, although Harry can't help but wonder what the score might be. That answer, of course, comes just twenty minutes later in the form of Pansy Parkinson entering the common room.

"Enjoyed your sneaky trip?"

"You bet," replies a beaming Harry. "There's plenty of treats for us as well, if you'd like."

"Oh, good." Pansy beams with a smile. "I'm going to need something sweet after watching the Ravenclaws hammer our defence. 180-300... That's not too bad, right?"

"Depends on who got the Snitch," says Harry. "Ugh, how stupid of me to even guess..."

Pansy sniggers and follows Harry to their dormitory. "Captain Head Girl herself, of course. But enough about that; let's see what treats you brought for us today, Potter baby..."

(A/N: Consider Harry's shielding of Tonks as a bit of foreshadowing for something similar next year.)