Hermione was far from pleased with the boys when they trouped back to the common room half an hour later, thoroughly disheartened. "How was practice?" She asked crisply. There was a tome as thick as a brick on her lap, and her homework was gathered around in her in an admirably neat spread. A wrinkled copy if the prophet rested by her elbow. Harry, Jack, and Ron groaned, collapsing. Harry and Ron took their normal chairs, while Jack sprawled out on the hearth and stared glumly at the ceiling. His wonderful day had been ruined.

"It was-" Harry began, but Ron interrupted him.

"Completely lousy," he said hollowly, sinking low into his chair. Jack winced at his defeated tone.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Jack tried to console him. He just scowled harder. Hermione's cold attitude seemed to evaporate as she got a proper look at her friends.

"Jack's right, Ron," she agreed. "It's bound to take time to get used to playing with the team." Her tone was reassuring and kind, with just a hint of lecturing. Ron growled.

"I'm going to lunch," he snapped, and stormed out. Harry, Jack, and Hermione watched him go. Harry sighed. Hermione's brown eyes filled with concern.

"What happened?" She asked softly, wincing at the resounding slam of the door.

"It was…" Jack struggled to find the right word. "A difficult practice," he decided. Harry nodded.

"Yeah. He's a good keeper, I've practiced with him before." A frown settled on his face.

"He's just struggling with the pressure. Malfoy and his sycophants were in the stands, and they didn't help matters either," Jack grumbled. Hermione made a face, uncharacteristic anger in her eyes.

"Of course he was," she said icily, and snapped her book shut with a thud.

"We should go to lunch, too." Harry and Jack shared a surprised look, stunned that Hermione was prioritizing food over homework. Jack shrugged and scrambled to his feet.

"Hey," he said to Harry as they trailed meekly after Hermione. "At least maybe he can redeem himself after lunch, right?" Harry didn't look remotely hopeful, and even Jack didn't believe his own words.

Ron did not, in fact, have the opportunity to try again. His mood didn't improve at all, either. In fact, after Katie wandered late into lunch, nose fixed, and Angelina, with the air of a queen on the verge of declaring war, announced that Slytherin had the pitch in the afternoon, his attitude was downright nasty.

The four Gryffindors spent most of the day in the library. Jack studied some of the things he had missed or didn't know due to his late entry while Hermione polished the last of her homework, regarding Ron with the caution one would usually reserve for a particularly bad tempered dog. Harry and Ron, on the other hand, slogged through their mountain of papers and readings miserably. The quidditch practice had done the opposite of what Jack had hoped. Both boys were angry and frustrated, furious with Dumbledore and Malfoy and, it seemed, everyone in between. After the fourth broken quill in as many hours, they retired to the common room. Neither Harry nor Ron had made much headway. In fact, Harry had spent a significant amount of time staring absently at nothing, while Ron glared at the library as though it had personally wronged him. Jack was sure the Slytherin's chant was ringing in their ears.

Their moods persisted into Sunday, which two of the boys spent on homework, as they had made next to no progress the day before, and Jack and Hermione spent doing whatever caught their fancy. For Hermione, it was wading through a book as big as her head. For Jack, it was spent drafting another letter to the Guardians, trying to think of something they could to about the horcrux and absently making suggestions about a place to reveal it. Each one was promptly shot down.

The crowds in the common room ebbed and flowed, most of their fellow lions choosing to spend the glorious day outside, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. By evening, everyone but Hermione seemed to be at their wits end, and even she, despite her love for books that bordered on worship, seemed to struggle to stay focused on the text before her.

"You know," Harry mused, "we probably should try and get more work done during the week." Hermione lifted an eyebrow in Jack's direction, and he cracked a smile. At long last, Harry set aside his transfiguration essay. As he had been doing all day, Jack reached for it for proofreading. His spelling was somewhat out of date, and he didn't have the best handwriting or grammar himself, but he knew the material.

Harry shook out his hand and turned to the next essay he had to write. Astronomy, if Jack wasn't mistaken.

"Yeah… Listen, shall we just ask Hermione to let us have a look at what she's done?" His fifth spoiled piece of parchment was tossed into the fire, masking Hermione's exasperated sigh.

"No," Harry replied heavily. "You know she won't let us." Hermione didn't seem to know if she should be pleased by his words or upset by his so it went, parchment after parchment, essay after essay, as the last, faint rays of sunshine faded into the night.

At this point, Hermione had migrated to another chair, where she sat chatting with Ginny. Crookshanks was purring contentedly on her lap. Jack was flat on his back, head resting in his hands, sleeping lightly.

At half-past eleven, Hermione made her way back to them, yawning. Harry looked jealously at Jack, napping peacefully, homework a thing of the past. His ability to grasp a subject was impressive, although it didn't quite rival Hermione's, who still frequently quoted entire sections of her textbooks verbatim.

"Nearly done?" The bushy haired girl asked.

"No," snapped Ron. Hermione peered over his shoulder.

"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," she corrected, indicating the incorrect information. "And it's Io that's got the volcanos." Jack stirred slightly, brow pinching before relaxing again.

"Thanks," Ron snarled. He didn't sound too grateful, scratching the offending sentences out viciously. Hermione blinked, taken aback. Some of the exhaustion faded from her face.
"Sorry, I only-"

"Yeah, well, if you've come to to criticize-"

"Ron-" Harry sighed, used to their arguing. In the background, Jack shifted, blue eyes fluttering open. He yawned hugely and sat up, hair almost as wild as Harry's.

"Wuzz going on?" He mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes,

"That, as I was trying to say," Hermione snapped, pointing. "If you would stop interrupting and listen." The three boys looked to where she was pointing. A handsome screech owl was perched at the nearest window.

"Whose is that? And why is it here and not at the owlery? Everyone else is asleep," Jack wondered aloud. Harry shrugged.

"Must be for one of us," he guessed. Hermione nodded.

"Isn't that Hermes?" She asked, sounding amazed.

"Blimey, it is!" Ron cried. He threw his quill aside and jumped up, bits of parchment fluttering away.

"Hermes?" Jack repeated, shaking his head as though trying to banish the last cobwebs of sleep. Harry had forgotten, momentarily, how much Jack was in the dark about.

"Yeah, it's Ron's brother's owl," he replied.

"Only," Ron said, "What's Percy doing writing to me?" He flung the window open, and Hermes flew in. He landed atop Ron's discarded essay and stuck out his leg. As soon as the letter had been claimed, it was off again, leaving nothing but a few inky footprints. Ron studied the parchment. "It's definitely Percy's handwriting. What d'you reckon?" Hermione opened her mouth, ready to suggest they open it, before remembering who else was in the room. She stopped. They had no way of knowing whether or not the letter contained Order knowledge or not, and as good a friend as Jack was, the Order of the Phoenix was a secret.

Jack caught on quick. Harry caught a flash of realization cross his face, before he yawned again. Loudly, this time. He stood and stretched, wincing as the floor made its drawbacks as a bed known.

"Welp," he said cheerfully. "Good luck with your family drama, but I'm beat. See you in the morning, night!" Without further ado and no kind of prompting, he wandered to the dormitory. The trio watched him go, bewildered.

"That was convenient," Hermione muttered suspiciously. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. He definitely knew something was up, I could tell." Hermione's eyes narrowed into brown slits, glittering in a way that Harry had learned to be wary of.

"Hmm," she hummed. "There is something odd about that boy… " The three sat in silence for a moment, before Ron cleared his throat.

"Want me to read this?" He asked, waving the letter.

"Oh! Yes, please," Hermione replied. Harry agreed, and so Ron unfurled the paper and began to read.