A/N: No warnings for this one, oddly enough.

Thanks to (ooh! Nine of you!) - , angel (sign in so I can respond, please!), dramaqueen1917, Xxlillian321xX, MyPatronusIsAPineMarten, maya, Farmin, Gray Fedora, and Xipholynx.

Lawyer Banishing Charm: Given the amount of this that was written while watching Doctor Who, I would not be surprised if my characters have acquired distinctly Tennant-like speech patterns.

"Miri!"

"Don't call me that," my sister said sharply. "Honestly, after nine hours on a plane, the last thing I want is my little sister – Oh Sarah." She pulled me into a hug. "Missed ya."

I hugged her back. "Same. Glad you're home."

It took a while to get everyone inside and settled, between suitcases and pets and Chris and Dad getting in the way all the time. Finally we were all in the living room, with me curled up on the floor with Whisper.

Miriam grinned down at me. "Ready for tomorrow?"

I snorted. "Not at all. Would avoid it if I could."

It was Mum's turn to smile. "Everyone has that feeling the day before."

"And the morning of, and the three minutes standing up on the podium waiting for everyone to just shut up, and the five minutes of talking," Miriam interjected. "It's all nauseatingly nerve-wracking, and given the option I would do it again in a heartbeat."

I sneered at her. "But everyone knows you're insane."

Chris laughed quietly. "Is this how your family always acts?"

Miriam smiled. "You met them last summer, didn't you?"

"That's right," he muttered, "doesn't mean I understand them."

I forced a smile out. "Really, guys, I'm fine. I'm ready for tomorrow. I'll just ah – pop upstairs and practice?" I didn't want to be down there, dealing with my sister and her boyfriend who didn't know, who couldn't know about my real life.

Lying on my bed in my room, I flipped my wand around in my hands. With my Bat Mitzvah the next morning, I really should have been practicing, but there was Miriam. I wanted so badly to tell her what was going on, all about the strange, unbelievable things that made up my life, but I had no way to prove it to her. There was a letter sitting on my desk – actually, three copies of a letter, respectively, the second, twelfth, and thirteenth drafts of a letter I had no way of sending to Snape. If I could only get the letter to him, asking for permission to show them, then maybe…

I flopped off the bed, groaning. No such luck. I pulled the paper with my lines for the next morning on it, even though I'd memorized it backwards, forwards, and in both Hebrew and English. I'd even recited it to Snape before leaving school. He'd been almost impressed, for him, although he'd then demanded that I hit fifty bull's-eyes before leaving for the night.

The lines came smoothly from my lips, soft musical cadences older than Rome. Written, according to our faith, by Moses. I would read a portion of the Torah during the services the next day, would start the prayer session. Of course, this being a Reform synagogue, the services would be shorter than normal and would proceed almost immediately to a party.

I recited the prayers again, and then again. It gave me a way to settle and focus. Over and over. Over and over and over again.

The ceremony went fine. Of course it did, but I'd still been nervous. The party after was painful, but parties weren't my thing. And then – it was over. I was a full adult according to Jewish law and custom.

That I had four more years to wait according to British law, and three for wizarding didn't factor into my excitement. In some places, I was an adult! Well – in synagogues, mostly, but hey, that was a start!

The remainder of summer went fairly well until the last Monday of August – and, completely coincidentally, the day of the Quidditch World Cup.

I woke up to a tapping on my window. "What is it about summer?" I muttered, getting up and stumbling over to the blinds.

There was an owl outside, medium sized, medium brown, a medium sized set of ear feathers, completely ordinary in every way. Except for the outsized glare it was giving me, and the parchment attached to its leg.

Sighing, I opened the window and let it in. As I took the paper, the owl settled down on my desk. "Alright," I muttered, "who are you from, then?"

The parchment was actually an envelope, with a wax seal on it: two snakes shaped in double-S, a pair of antlers forming the border. The letter inside was on Muggle paper.

Sarah Levine –
You have to stay inside tonight. You and all your family. I've received word from my friends. Tonight will be dangerous.
S. T. Snape
P.S. The owl is waiting for a reply

I grabbed a piece of paper – a piece of blank paper – and a pen.

Professor –
Don't worry, I will. Are these the friends with tattoos? Should I talk to my friends who go to different schools, or is it just me? Is this connected with the World Cup tonight?
S. L. Levine
P.S. I didn't know you had your own seal.

Handing this to the owl, I closed the window behind it, and clattered down to breakfast. The day went normally, until after lunch, when the owl came back. This was written on the back of my letter.

SLL –
Yes, the same ones; no, they're not in danger; yes, of course it is.
STS
P.S. A gift from some of those same friends.

I deciphered this with ease: Death Eaters were going to be attacking the Quidditch World Cup tonight, Snape wanted me to stay inside so I didn't make a target of myself, and Snape had, for whatever reason, been issued a seal during his time with the Dark Lord.

STS –
Unrelated question: My sister's here, and I'd like to tell her. Permission to demonstrate?
SLL
P.S. Why would they give you a seal?

The owl didn't come back again until just before supper, when it was joined by a companion, this one huge, and vaguely russet with darker patches, a teeny beak, and absolutely pitch black eyes.

SLL –
Here. Have an owl so you'll stop wearing mine out. It's a male, he doesn't have a name yet, he's a year old, and don't try to repay me after the cat thing. Permission granted; the papers are on your owl. Officially, your house is now a wizarding residence; your parents are expected to control your magic.
STS
P.S. A reward. Don't ask why. I have two, since you're curious; one for the friends from earlier, and one for the other side.

I pulled the papers off of the other owl – my owl – and discovering that yes, Snape was right, I could now use magic, but just at home, everywhere else I was still being tracked. I sent my next letter back on my owl, still nameless.

STS –
Thanks. I won't pester you then. Thanks for everything.
SLL
P.S. What's the other one look like?

The reply came back that night before I went to bed – apparently my owl was more energetic than Snape's.

SLL –
Once again: BE CAREFUL TONIGHT. You're welcome.
STS
P.S. The double S, but above a cauldron with a skull in the background. Much more elaborate. Pretentious, even.
P.P.S. When you go to Diagon Alley, get a set of dress robes. Nice ones

I waited to reply until the next morning and after I'd gotten the Daily Prophet.

STS –
Anyone I know there? And are they all idiots?
SLL
P.S. Yeah, doesn't sound like you. I like the other one better.
P.P.S. Why?

Flipping through textbooks, I didn't come up with anything. Inspiration struck as I was going through my fantasy collection. Staring at the owl, bearing Snape's reply – my owl – I smiled. "Miles. That's your name. Miles."

SLL –
A few. We can talk during the school year. Idiots? Possibly. Make that, probably. Again, during the school year.
STS
P.S. This one is my design. The other was issued to me.
P.P.S. Can't tell you; Headmaster's orders. Just do it.

Miles ate a piece of beef off my fingers as I penned my reply.

STS –
During the school year, then.
SLL
P.S. I can tell. The antlers have a significance then?
P.P.S. Okay.

SLL –
Yes. Other things not to ask about.
STS

STS –
Seems to be a lot of those.
SLL

SLL –
Yes.
STS

Miles gave me a glare when I opened the last reply, as if I was demeaning him by making him carry a one word reply from Scotland. Well, Snape probably didn't stay at Hogwarts all year round, but wherever he lived it certainly wasn't close.

By the time we were done with our conversation, it was Tuesday evening. Staring at Miles and my latest reply, I made a decision. "Mum!" I yelled, running down the stairs. "Could you look at this?"

I shoved the papers at Mum, who was standing in the kitchen. "What is this? Ah – oh. Right. Give me a minute." She flipped through the papers. "Your professor must really like you," she said, peering over the papers.

"Teacher's pet, that's me!" I said, grinning.

Mum snorted. "You want to tell your sister, don't you?" she asked seriously. "That's why you got these." She waved the papers.

I nodded, sobering as well. "Yes. Yeah, I do. And Chris, too."

She shrugged. "It's your choice, darling. After dinner would be a good time. But you may want to think about this first."

"I've spent all," I swallowed the next word, "summer thinking about it!" I burst out. "I'm not gonna change my decision now."

Mum smiled. "Alright. If you're certain."

I swallowed and nodded.

Supper took forever, but when it was done, I stood, gulping. "Um – I've got something to tell you guys. Um…" I searched for words.

"You're gay," Miriam said flatly.

I blinked at her, completely thrown. "What. Wait – no, no, no, no, no! I'm – I'm not – just no!"

There was an awkward silence.

I gulped. "I'm a witch."

"A what?" Miriam asked, mouth hanging open. "Mom, is she –" She paused, making a twirling gesture with one hand.

I glared at her. "I'm a witch! And I'm not mad!"

Mum snickered. "You may want to demonstrate, Sarah."

I nodded, drawing my wand. "You are one of the best students I have taught in over ten years here. "Expecto patronum!"

The thestral leaped out of my wand, shaking her mane. Lighting up the dining room, she cantered around the table before stopping at me. Touching her nose to my hand, she vanished.

Chris gaped at me. "You – but that's not possible! You – just lights and mirrors, it's gotta be."

Dad laughed. "Nice bit of magic there, Sarah, but why don't you try something a bit more substancial?"

I grinned at him, twirling my wand. "Wingardium leviosa!" I said, pointing my wand at Chris.

This one took a different sort of power – I wasn't used to levitating two hundred pounds of anything – but I still lifted Chris to a solid two feet above his chair.

"Oh my god," he said, looking down. "It's real!"

I laughed out loud. "Of course it is!"

The rest of the explaining took much longer – as it always seemed to – accompanied by a number of iterations on the same basic theme: Yes, I am in a wizarding boarding school; yes, there is a Ministry of Magic; yes, there are wizarding laws; yes, Mum and Dad do know what I've been up to. Catherine got dragged out of the suitcase to demonstrate how we communicated with each other, and Miles came down to show off to everyone.

I, of course, had already told my parents about him, but with travelling between me and Snape, they hadn't actually seen him yet. They ooh'd and aw'd at him, which made him preen happily.

"You look like an idiot," I told him as he stood flat-footed on the table, feathers sticking out in odd directions. He squawked at me, and, spreading huge wings, flew back to my room.

Miriam sighed. "You know this is a lot to take in, right?"

I nodded. "Yes, I know, but I wanted to tell you. I – I don't like keeping secrets from my family."

Chris groaned. "And I can't tell anyone."

"No one outside this room," I said sadly.

Miriam and Chris shared a glance. "Alright. We're – we need to talk about this, okay? We believe you, but we just need to talk," Miriam said.

I nodded. "Alright. I – I'm going to my room, then." I escaped upstairs.

I went to Diagon Alley soon after, collecting supplies for Miles and my books for next year, along with a nice set of dress robes – which, for women, turned out to look an awful lot like a dress. Miles insisted that he come along, having a great amount of fun riding on my shoulder. He was large for an owl, but not stunningly so – Draco's was larger – and so while he attracted attention, it wasn't out of the ordinary.

I attracted some looks at Kings Cross, with an owl and a cat, but so many people bent – and broke – the one pet only rule, that no one on the platform cared. I joined a compartment with Theo, Blaise, and Millicent, settled my pets, and pulled out Alanna – the First Adventure.

After the train began moving, Blaise got our attention. "Um – my mum likes to have tea with the Minister."

"Does the Minister walk away from it?" I asked quietly.

Blaise grinned – a good sign. "Course. Anyway, he told her a Ministry secret, which she told me, and I'm telling you."

"Get on with it!" Theo yelled.

Blaise made a face at him. "The Triwizard Tournament is coming to Hogwarts this year." He leaned back, satisfied.

Theo frowned, while Millicent flinched. I ran through everything I knew about the Tournament, which admittedly, wasn't much.

"But all those people died last time," Theo said eventually. "Why would they bring it back?"

I was wondering the same thing. Blaise shrugged. "Apparently the Minister thought it would be a good gesture of international cooperation."

"Any particular reason for now?" I asked.

Blaise snickered. "Elections are coming up."

I drummed my fingers on my knees. "That makes… a lot of sense, actually. So you thought you ought to tell us?"

"Draco'll know. He'll have told his group – actually, anyone whose parents are in the Ministry will know. Except the Weasleys, because their father's an idiot. I thought you'd want to know." He looked directly at me as he said this. "So," Blaise said suddenly, "what's with the owl?"

The thestrals that pulled the carriages were happy to see me, but I didn't have time to do anything more than stroke their noses on the way by. I hadn't told anyone I could see them and didn't intend to for another year or so.

It was raining, which was predictable enough, although it was heavier than normal. I left the carriage flanked by Blaise and Theo, with Millicent behind us. Peeves was being his normal self, but he left us alone after we threatened him with the Baron. The Sorting took forever, or so it seemed, although there was excitement when Blaise's brother was Sorted.

"Zabini, Tristan!"

The hat paused for a long time. Minutes passed.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Blaise clapped happily. "Good," he whispered in my ear, "at least he's not in my House."

I laughed quietly. "Another like the Weasley twins, you said."

"Worse," he told me.

"Oh dear."

I shovelled food down, ignoring most of the conversations around me, picking up only that Blaise's stories of Tristan got worse and worse as he went on. I continued ignoring the beginning of Dumbledore's speech, the roars of outrage from the students at the cancellation of Quidditch, and his valiant attempt at talking over them. I did, however, perk up at the arrival of our new Defence teacher.

He looked like he'd been through the metaphorical mill. He was missing an eye, a chunk of his nose, and a leg. Dark grey hair hung in scattered clumps around his face, and the missing eye had been replaced by a wild electric blue one. Limping up to the high table, he shook hands with Dumbledore, before sitting to his right and beginning to eat.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said brightly. "Professor Moody."

Theo, flinching, leaned into me. "Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody, retired Auror, the most successful dark wizard catcher of them all, and complete paranoid maniac."

I nodded. "So what's he doing here?"

"Good friends with Dumbledore," Blaise said. "He must have begged Mad-eye to come and take the job."

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued finally, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Told you so."

"You're joking!" one of the Weasley twins said loudly.

The Hall burst into noise, all except the Slytherin table. Most of us were sitting and nodding smugly at each other. We weren't caught by surprise, unlike everyone else in the Hall.

"I am not joking, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said, smiling, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

Blaise snickered into my ear. "There's a thousand of those jokes, and they all end dirty."

"Er – but maybe this is not the time… no…" Dumbledore trailed off blankly. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

Given that the train ride to Hogwarts had consisted of nothing but discussion of the Triwizard Tournament, I did completely tune him out. It took a while before Blaise poked me. "Going to try it?"

I laughed at him, ignoring the rest of the room. "Hell no! Are you bonkers?"

He grinned back. "Good. I was afraid you'd be acting all Gryffindor, and all."

"If you'd shut up," Theo interrupted, "you'd know that no one under seventeen will be allowed to join."

Blaise scowled at him. "We'd only been talking for two seconds! Honestly, Theo, can't you just leave it?"

The two boys made faces at each other across me. "Oy!" I told them, "if you're going to have a dominance squabble, don't do it across me!"

The face making continued, but at least they leaned back. "Sorry," Blaise muttered.

Theo murmured an agreement.

I smacked both of them. "Supper's done, in case the two of you missed it. Let's go to bed, okay?"

Schedules came out the next morning, along with a note from Snape: SLL – Keep the Time-turner, you'll need it. Lessons seven days a week, nineteen o'clock through curfew. STS

I blinked. Seven days a week, up from three. Three hours a day, up from two. Something was up, something that had Snape seriously upset and paranoid. That, and, judging from his expressions last night, he didn't like Moody any more than he'd liked Lupin.

Monday was Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and double Arithmancy. Transfiguration was easy enough, all we did was go through all the things we'd learned last year. Care of Magical Creatures was more exciting, since Hagrid had managed to illegally crossbreed something over the summer, and he spent the whole class showing it off. After I managed to survive undamaged, I ran off to lunch, and then to Arithmancy. Professor Vector spent the entire class outlining the invention of the spell lumos, demonstrating how the Arithmancy equations fit into the spell itself, and how you can use simple equations to change the colour of the light, to add more lights, or to increase the size of the light. We would, as it transpired, be spending the rest of the semester working on coming up with the equations on our own.

And then there was supper. Blaise, of course, spent the walk down whinging in my ear about how horrible it was that McGonagall had given us homework. He shut up immediately, however, when we saw what was in front of the Great Hall.

Professor Moody, for reasons best known only to himself, was bouncing a white ferret off of everything in sight. Theo, who was already there, said quietly, "It's Draco."

"What?"

"That ferret," Theo said, "it's Draco. Professor Moody turned Draco into a ferret."

"Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do!" Moody yelled.

I frowned. "What'd Draco do now?"

Theo snorted. "Arthur Weasley made the papers again. Draco and our Weasley," he said, meaning Ron, "got into a fight about it. Draco insulted Potter's mum, Potter insulted Lady Malfoy back. Draco shot a spell at Potter. Professor Moody took offence."

The drama continued, even as we ignored it. "Professor Moody!" McGonagall yelled, clearly furious.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody said calmly, enthusiastically bouncing Draco.

"What – what are you doing?" McGonagall said, tracking Draco with her eyes.

Moody grinned. "Teaching."

"Teach –" I watched realization dawn over McGonagall's face. "Moody, is that a student?"

I covered my ears. That was a truly painful pitch of voice. Leaning over to Blaise, I whispered, "Do we need to be here for this?"

He snickered. "But it's so amusing."

"True," I muttered, "but I like my ears the way they are."

Blaise glanced over to see Draco, now human-shaped, sprawled on the stairs. "Draco Malfoy, ferret boy."

"Good name for him," I said quietly.

Theo ducked his head. "Don't say that too loudly."

I returned my attention to Moody, catching a name I knew. "…Snape, will it?" Moody said.

Draco glared at him – understandably, I thought. "Yes," he snarled.

"Another old friend," Moody growled. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape… Come on, you…" He grabbed Draco's arm, and the mismatched pair marched off to the dungeons.

I frowned at them. "Snape," I whispered to Blaise. "What's Moody got against Snape?"

Blaise shrugged. "Moody was an Auror. Snape was a Death Eater. Presumably there's some not-held conversations there."

I snorted. "Yeah, I bet they'll get along well." I wrinkled my nose. "Shall we go have supper, then?"

After wolfing my supper down, I ran for Snape's office. The others had left, fortunately, and Snape was in his inner office. "What happened?" I asked, bolting in. "With Moody, what'd he have to say?"

He gave me a long look. "I am no longer surprised," he said dryly. "The next time there is a war, I will put you in charge of gathering information."

I smiled faintly. "Sir? What's going on?"

Snape sat behind his desk, motioning at another chair. "Last year – things were complicated. The Headmaster explained some things, but I am bound by oaths."

"Oaths that supersede our Master-Apprentice bond?" I interjected. We'd never really talked about what went on that night in February, but I always wore the Mobius-strip bracelet.

He smiled finally. "I neither know nor care what you've heard, but the Master-Apprentice relationship is solely for the purpose of teaching. Nothing more."

I looked at him for a long time. "But you said – there were runes?" There was information here that I didn't have, and I wanted it.

Snape sighed. "Yes, there are runes, and I will have a talk with the Headmaster. Regardless, a Death Eater who has been incapacitated is now no longer so, and he will be working to bring back the Dark Lord. In addition – we think the two are unrelated – a group of former Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban," he gave me a very stern look, "and whose names will not be repeated outside this room, decided to cause trouble at the Quidditch World Cup."

"I saw," I told him. "It was a stupid move on their part."

He nodded. "Poor timing, poor location, and poor choice of actions. The Dark Mark was not put up by them."

I gaped at him. "What? But – who, then?"

"We do not know," Snape said quietly. "It caused havoc among the group because they did not know who set it off. So – one group causing trouble because they can. They don't want to bring him back, because they are enjoying their freedom. Then there is a loner who is working to bring him back. This worried the Headmaster, so he hired Auror Moody for assistance."

I nodded, putting the pieces together. "And you don't get along."

He laughed harshly. "Mad-eye was the one who arrested me after the war. He'd love to put me back in."

"But – but I thought – Blaise said you'd never been arrested," I protested.

Snape smiled bitterly. "Accused, yes. The Headmaster defended me, but Moody did not approve. In a gesture of good faith, I voluntarily surrendered myself – which, since the Ministry was still in a state of war, resulted in my arrest. It is not an experience I intend to repeat. I was charged, the Headmaster provided opposing evidence, and I was released. No charges as such were ever published, nor was I ever put to trial."

I relaxed. "Then Moody's just stirring up trouble to stir up trouble."

Snape gave a not-at-all-reassuring shrug. "He has a point. The Mark is darkening, albeit slowly, the Death Eaters are restless, and a hundred international representatives are going to be at Hogwarts for most of the year. He's nervous. It would be nice," he added dryly, "if he refrained from taking it out on me and Lucius Malfoy's son."

I snickered. "Potter'll end up involved, you know he will."

He groaned. "Of course he will. Why on earth would Potter make an intelligent decision?" Snape stood, shaking his head. "Regardless, in terms of your tutoring, this is the last week we will spend on duelling."

I grinned in relief. I hated duelling, even if I was getting good at it. Well, sort of. I was good at all of the things that were transferrable to fighting – the aiming, the speed, the coming up with random spells while on the spot. I was horrible at the rituals, at remembering what spells I could or could not use, at the correct stances, and at all the duelling specific parts. It would be good to move on to something else.

"To test and see if you have remembered anything over the summer, tomorrow we will hold a formal duel, complete with seconds."

I blinked. "Seconds? Who – I need to find someone?"

Snape smiled for real this time. "I would recommend Minerva. I will be asking the Headmaster. Show her your bracelet and explain. She likes you, for some reason."

I smirked at him. Even if Snape would never admit it, he was fond of me, in some odd Snape-ish way.

"For tonight, however, you may work on target practice."

Groaning, I rolled my eyes. I hated target practice.

A/N: Fun chapter, ya?

Some relevant notes & disclaimers: I know some things about Bat Mitzvahs, but those who know more are welcome to correct me; for those of you who got confused during the letter exchange, SLL is Sarah Leah Levine, while STS is Severus Tobias Snape; the owl will come back again; Sarah's reaction to Miriam's accusation is on the part of her character, not me, and besides, she's 14 in the mid-1990's, anyone who wasn't already out (and a few who were) would have responded that way; yes, the last name in the book is a 'W', but I'd already named Tristan Zabini; and the conversation between Sarah and Snape was not planned, but there is a point to it.

Challenge Related Thingys: Cameo to Gray Fedora, again – the spell was in Norwegian, because Norway has the longest stretch of sea-coast along the North Sea. The spell reads:

Come to me, keeper of souls, come to me. I order thee, by my power as a dark wizard, to come to me. Stand and do not attack without orders. Keeper of souls, I command thee to stay and hold thy position. Thou art mine and will follow my commands!

Hold still! I, Severus Snape, command thee to hold still!

Leave us! Return to your post and guard these gates!

Yes, it is very Dark. More on that later.

New Challenge: What book did I take Miles' name from? (Yes, it is as a name, as a first name, of a human character. It's not as a unit of length.)