A/N: I apologise for this coming after Christmas, unlike promised. Had a lot on with other projects and the festivities. Got a lot of writing done while I was home though!

Cringing at the low bang from the desk beside her, Ginny glanced over. Spilling out of a brown tweed bag on the floor was some form of red goop. If she wasn't a matter of feet away she supposed it would look a lot like blood.

'Oh, Colin,' she muttered as her aghast classmate tried desperately to push it back into the bag. When it twirled deftly around his wrists she shot a glance at the rest of the class hunched over their work then looked at McGonagall seemingly absorbed in her own writing. Deeming it was safe enough, Ginny hurried over and crouched beside him. 'What is it?'

'I don't know,' he whispered, pulling his neck away from the strand attempting to strangle him. 'Someone said it was a present for Harry.'

'Yeah, I bet. You've got to be careful before Quidditch games, Colin,' she said, poking at the goop with her wand. 'I don't suppose you can relax can you?' The glare on his face answered her. 'Okay, okay. It looks a bit like something Fred and George set on our cat once.'

'What happened to it?'

'Well, it died.' Noting the renewed panic on his face, she quickly added, 'We think it was a heart attack. If you calm down a bit you'll be fine.'

He sniffed as his eye filled. 'I'm going to die.'

'If you let me think, you won't. If I could just remember what they did when Mum started screaming at them…'

'Could you think quicker?' he questioned tentatively.

'Shush…' Ginny frowned with concentration then grinned. 'Of course! It's ticklish. All you have to do is pick a strand: this one,' she decided, attracting the one that was attempting to disappear up his left nostril. 'Poke it and say wizibabrokai.'

As she'd hoped, it instantly recoiled, a few seconds later it was no more than a red ball of putty. Colin grasped his neck to check there was no damage then started breathing again. 'Thanks, Gin.'

'No problem. Throw it away,' she advised before going back to her own desk just as McGonagall said they could go.

Everyone else had obviously been anticipating it because they were all on their feet within seconds. Packing up as quickly as she could, she still found herself the last person left in the room- along with McGonagall.

As she popped her quill in her bag and zipped it up a voice to her left startled her. 'That was very neatly done, Miss Weasley.'

Sure she was about to get a detention or something equally as vile, all she could muster was, 'Oh…'

'Your ability to stay calm under the circumstances was most impressive.'

Suddenly realising a painful death wasn't imminent, she looked up and caught the smile on the professor's face. 'I didn't think it was worth bothering you with. Sorry.'

'No need to apologise, I'd already taken note of the situation. I would've stepped in had it been necessary. And I trust you would've alerted me if you had found anything beyond your control.'

'Of course, Professor.'

'Good. Are you going for lunch?'

She nodded, slipping her bag onto her back. 'Yes.'

'May I accompany you?'

Finding the teacher's politeness slightly out of character Ginny just shrugged her assent. As they walked out of the classroom together though she saw a familiar figure leaning against the wooden panels. 'Hermione! What are you doing here?'

The third-year seemed uncomfortable; her gaze was rapidly shifting, Ginny noticed, between herself and McGonagall. 'Oh, erm… I wanted to steal you before you went to lunch.'

'Stealing my students, Miss Granger?' Professor McGonagall asked, raising an arched eyebrow as they began walking again. 'Should I be concerned?'

'Of course not, Professor,' answered Hermione, moving as close to the wall as possible. 'I've just got something to show Ginny.'

'As long as there's nothing sinister in your intentions,' said McGonagall as they rounded a corner.

Ginny couldn't help but laugh. 'How could there be, Professor?'

'You'd be truly astounded, Miss Weasley, I'm sure. Good day, Miss Granger.'

After watching the teacher briskly walk off, Ginny turned to Hermione who was again leaning using the wall for stability. 'What did she mean by that?'

'It was a joke,' answered her friend, trying to be flippant but Ginny saw straight through it.

'It didn't sound like that.'

'Honestly, Gin,' Hermione said. 'McGonagall likes to wind me up, that's all.'

Though her private assumption was that Professor McGonagall was probably not aware of what 'winding up' was, Ginny kept quiet. 'What did you have to show me?'

Minerva was surprised to find Albus seated at the table when she arrived in the Great Hall. Usually, their clashing schedules meant that a shared luncheon had become a rarity in recent years; something Minerva had found herself pleasantly relieved about since their confrontation about Molly. She had been avoiding prolonged contact with him on the grounds that his disapproval might induce her to action, now she supposed he would assume it had. Albus was a wonderful being in so many respects but he had the tendency to presume he was constantly correct.

Since the table was empty aside from them, however, she felt she had little option than to be cordial. 'Good afternoon.'

There was no need for him to look up; she knew his eyes had been trained on her since she entered the hall. 'Hello, Minerva,' she said, looking away and surveying the students dotted around before refocusing his attentions. 'You should be aware, I've invited Arthur and Molly Weasley as my guests to the Quidditch game tomorrow. Arthur seemed most grateful.'

'I'm sure,' she said, busying herself with buttering a roll. 'What time will they be arriving?'

'Ten, I should think.'

'And will I be expected to perform any duties in regard to their arrival?'

'Would your presence be such a chore?' he enquired. 'You're Molly's friend, after all.'

'That I don't dispute. I merely had a desire to go into Hogsmeade tomorrow morning before the match. I have some things to collect.'

'Then I wouldn't dream of tying you. I'm sure there'll be every chance for conversation after a… er, Slytherin win?'

Momentarily forgetting herself, Minerva smiled. 'As impartial as ever, I see.'

'Oh, of course. Pumpkin juice?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'What are we going to Hagrid's for?'

'You ask too many questions,' Hermione muttered, picking up the pace.

'Mmm, I wonder who I learned that one from.'

'I'll deal with you later,' answered Hermione, throwing her an evil glance as they approached Hagrid's cabin. 'Right, round the back.'

'Hermione!' Ginny protested.

'Be quiet! You know, you're as bad as Ron sometimes; no patience.'

'Hey, take that back!'

Laughing at the indignation on her friend's face, she turned fully and halted. 'It might be a little bit true, you know.'

'Only in some warped universe.'

'Okay, if you say so. Come on.' Continuing to lead them round the back, she spotted the familiar hut that Hagrid had shown her the previous evening. 'Right. It smells a bit but if you hold your nose you won't notice it much.'

Ginny didn't answer, just ducked in behind her. Presumably, she spoke when her eyes had become used to the gloom and she still couldn't see anything. 'This is… dark.'

Grinning, mainly because she couldn't be seen, Hermione lit the tip of her wand and pointed it at the left corner, illuminating the squirming bundle. 'There.'

Immediately dashing towards them, Ginny crouched. 'Badgers! But I thought they…'

Her own excitement reignited, she set down next to the second-year. 'They're disorientated, Hagrid says they're a late litter who got separated from their mother. He's trying to feed them up before it gets too cold for them.'

'They're adorable.'

'Do you want to hold one?' Hermione asked.

'Can I?'

'Yeah, Hagrid said it was fine.' Choosing the least wrigglesome, she carefully passed it over, then rested her hand on Ginny's arm. 'I think this one's my favourite. He's not as much trouble as the others.'

'He's gorgeous.' Ginny glanced up, a wide smile on her face. 'Thanks.'

'I just don't see why we have to go.'

'Molly, I thought you'd be pleased,' Arthur said, finished the last of his lunch and straightening his cutlery. 'It'll give you a chance to check on the children, you're always talking about them, after all.'

'Of course I want to see them,' Molly objected, surveying her own half-full plate then standing to clear the table. 'I'm surprised at the invitation, that's all.'

'Well, it shows Albus regards us as friends,' argued Arthur with a hint of pride. 'That's a great honour.'

'Yes, it is.' Before plunging her hands into the sink, she took a long look at her hand. 'Now, shouldn't you be getting back to work?'

'Where've you two been?' Ron questioned when Hermione and Ginny plopped down at the Gryffindor table towards the end of lunch.

'Mind your own business,' said Ginny quickly. 'Hi, Harry.'

Looking up from his sandwich poking, he smiled weakly. 'Hi.'

Hermione, noting his demeanour, asked, 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. Just feeling a bit sick.'

'I told him,' Ron butted in while chewing on a slice of bread. 'The worse thing that can happen is Malfoy beating him to the Snitch, falling to the floor, breaking all his bones and landing in a pile of…'

'Ron, shut up!' Ginny burst in. 'We're trying to eat.'

'Well, if you didn't go running off and…'

As the siblings descended into an argument, Hermione closer to Harry. 'Really, are you alright?'

He shrugged. 'I'm a little… terrified. It doesn't help that half the Slytherins are trying to poison me. Crabbe put a venomous frog in my pocket earlier. It bit right through, would've got me if Fred hadn't stepped in.'

'Do you think they're taking it a bit too seriously?'

'But we've got to win!'

'That's not the way to relieve pressure, Harry.'

'I know but…' Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. 'It'll be fine. How are you?'

Glancing at Ginny, she smiled slightly. 'Yeah, everything's okay.'

'I saw you were getting on well.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' she asked, grinning to soften the effect.

'Just that you're not pushing her away anymore.'

'I'm behaving like a grown-up,' she said, shooting a look at Ron who was now gesturing wildly. 'Unlike some.'

Harry laughed. 'Don't ask him to grow up, it'll kill him.'

'He could do with the lesson.'

'I won't argue.' He paused and glanced up at the staff table. 'And that thing with McGonagall, is it sorted?'

Following his gaze, she watched the teacher's eyes pass over her. 'It was nothing really.'

'You were very upset,' Harry pointed out. 'I'm not being nosy…'

'Yes, you are. But, honestly, it's fine. Everything's great.'

'Can you give me a bit of that optimism or whatever it is? Might help.'