Bringing Hope to Hogwarts Chapter 25 - Conversations, a harry potter fanfic

BRINGING HOPE TO HOGWARTS

Chapter Twenty-Five - Conversations

The next morning, Meena was awake by four. She sighed at her sweaty body as she rolled out of bed and into the showers, where she scrubbed at her skin viciously, before standing under the hot water and letting her dreams run away down the drain with the water.

She stepped out, dried and dressed, and studied herself in the mirror, tutting at the tired hollows under her eyes before putting her damp hair in two loose plaits. She grabbed her jacket from her chair and went to get her letter for Sam from the desk.

It wasn't there.

She searched her bed, under her desk, in the desk, in the folds of her bed clothes, everywhere, for her letter, but she couldn't find it anywhere. She attempted to Accio it but nothing emerged.

She racked her brains for where she had put it, and then she remembered; she left it on Theo's desk, forgetting to pick it up as she scooped up her leftover parchment, quill and ink from his desk the previous evening.

She frowned in the feeble single light of the dorm. She knew from experience that girls could get into the boys dorm. It wasn't yet dawn... maybe all the boys would still be asleep; after all, Draco, Vince and Greg still hadn't returned by the time she had left, and that was only just before midnight.

She crept down the stairs, before doing a sweep of the common room to check it was empty, before she slipped up the stairs to the boys' dorms.

Once outside the sixth year door, she removed her boots and left them outside. She then pushed the door open slowly, hoping it would remain silent on its hinges.

The boy's dorm was much the same as the girls, besides the extra bed, and the unmistakable smell of five teenage boys sharing one room. It was easy to see where each boys' territory ended and the next began. The beds belonging to Vince and Greg took up one wall, and they had crinkled clothes strewn about the place, their desks were messy and unorganised, the floor scattered with sweet wrappers.

On the other side, Draco had the bed closest to the door, and his space was neat and orderly. His desk had bottles and jars lined up, containing potions ingredients, a stack of papers on one side. On the wall there was a framed photograph of himself and his Mother on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, himself looking much younger, perhaps even his first year. The trunk at the end of his bed was closed with a perfectly ironed outfit for the next day already waiting on the closed lid.

Meena crept forwards into the room and Blaise's bed came into view. His section of the room was more homely. He had a symphony of photo's on the desk of himself and a strikingly fierce-looking woman who could only be his mother. His textbooks and personal reading material were stacked on the desk, a quill perched beside an ink pot, and set of shiny black shoes tucked under the chair.

Theo's bed and desk were the farthest from the door, meaning Meena had to creep right into the boys' lair to get her letter for Sam. Theo's corner of the room was sparingly decorated. There was a pair of robes hanging from a hook on the wall, his cloak next to it. On his desk, his school books were lined up in the order of his weekly timetable. The only personal items he had on display were a small potted plant Meena recognised as a cut off of a Mimbulus Mimbletonia, squirming lazily, and a single framed photo. The photograph was from Christmas day, with himself, Neville, Meena, Draco, Blaise and Millie all sat in their silly hats, waving and smiling at the camera.

She scouted the top of his desk, but couldn't see her letter. She really wanted that letter, and privately swore to herself for allowing it to be misplaced. She scanned with her eyes, not touching anything – they were Slytherin boys, there was likely to be more than one trap if their personal effects were touched.

In the end, she sighed, and pointed her wand at the hangings of Theo's bed, cursing the loud, echoing snore of Greg or Vince for making her jump. Shaking herself, she readied her wand and cast a silent charm on Theo, one that would make him wake naturally; it would do no good to have him screaming at her body hanging over his sleeping figure.

After a few moments, she heard him stir, a light moan escaping his lips. She stood as close to the curtains as she could get without touching them and whispered his name.

She heard him still, but nothing more, and so she whispered again.

Suddenly, his hangings were thrown back, and his face peered out at her from the darkness of his bed. He was bare-chested, his mothers' locket hanging around his neck and his hair stuck out in odd angles about his face. When he saw her, he blinked rapidly.

"Meena?!" he hissed at her. "What're you doing here? What time is it?" he asked confusedly.

"A little before dawn," Meena replied in an almost silent whisper, and she smirked as Theo winced at the mention of pre-dawn. "Listen, Theo, i'm sorry to wake you. I think i left my latter to Sam here last night, i can't find it anywhere, and i really don't want anyone finding it."

"Before dawn?" He asked, wiping his eyes.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Do you have my letter?"

"Yeah," he nodded, and shuffled around on his bed so he was facing the headboard. "You left it on my desk. You shouldn't leave anything private on the desks in this dorm, so i brought it in here with me."

He shuffled about a little shelf above his bed, different from the one where wands are kept. He saw her looking and whispered, "I transfigured it, wanted more storage. Here it is," He said, holding out the folded letter for her before wiping his eyes again. Then they fell on her fully clothed body and wet hair.

"Are you dressed? Have you showered already?Why are you awake?" he asked a little too loudly in the quiet dorm.

Meena shushed him with her hands before replying. "I'm always awake at this time, i have issues sleeping. Yes, i've showered, and i'm dressed. I'm going to the owlery, and then i'll go to the Hall to catch the Eagle with my copy of Brewing Bi-Monthly."

"Before dawn," Theo groaned, "I'll never get back to sleep now."

Meena smirked. "Yeah you will. Thanks for keeping my letter safe, these are really private."

Then she raised her wand and hit him with another charm, and he quickly fell back into a completely normal sleep. She pulled his bed hangings closed once more and quickly but quietly left the dorm.

She caught Duke just as he was feasting himself on his nights' hunting, and she sent him off with some kind words and some loving petting.

Meena sat in the Hall and waited for her friends as she ate her morning breakfast. The cry of the magazine hawk came just as she was finishing her porridge. She looked up to the Teachers' table and was surprised to see Professor Snape had yet to arrive, which was unusual for him. The hawk circled down to her, and she untied both copies of the journal, before feeding the bird some bacon.

She unrolled one of the copies and read as she sipped her tea and nibbled on fruit. Besides herself, the only people in the hall were the group of Ravenclaw Seventh years who were always awake and studying, though Meena normally didn't see them on a Saturday, and Professors Vector and Sinistra, who were sat together having an animated discussion in low voices.

A little while later, the hall still lacking occupants, Professors McGonagall, Snape and Dumbledore rounded the doors, all looking rather tired. Snape was talking to the other two, as if he was giving them a lecture. Out of the three, he looked the most haggard. When they reached the Teachers' table, they took their usual spots, talked for a moment longer, before Dumbledore gave a grave nod and they began to eat.

Professor Snape looked around himself at the table top, and frowned when he didn't find what he was looking for. Meena stood, clutching his copy of the Potions journal and making her way towards her Head of House.

He eyed her beadily as she approached.

"Good morning, Professors." She greeted all three due to their close proximity.

McGonagall and Dumbledore turned to give her polite smiles. "Miss Hope," The Headmaster started, "How are you? I hear from Madame Pomfrey your hand is now fully healed from your rather spectacular Quidditch fall?"

She held out her hands and squeezed it into a fist. "It is indeed, Sir, and i am well, thank you for asking. Professor Snape," She said, turning to him as he lifted an eyebrow questioningly, "I have your copy of Brewing Bi-Monthly for you, as you were otherwise indisposed when the hawk arrived."

She held out the copy before placing it on the table before him. "Thank you, Miss Hope. You will be pleased to know your recent work on the Imperius and Cruciatus Curses has received top marks in the year. You are doing well for Slytherin." He said, with a lazy hand gesture at the house point counters.

Meena beamed at the praise before giving the usual bow she gave to her Professor and Head of House, which made all three Professors smile. "Thank you, Professor. Now i'll leave you to your breakfast." She said before retreating back to her space at the table to await her sleeping friends.

It was raining heavily in Hogsmede, big fat droplets that pummelled the window panes and bounced off the cobble stones creating a drumming racket that could be heard in every shop.

The popularity of shops could be deemed by how foggy their windows became in the Scottish spring downpour; most of the bookshops were clear and cold looking, whilst the cafe's and pubs were masked behind great panels of white. Madame Puddifoots teashop had a suspicious pink tinge to it, the occasional hand emerging to wipe at the condensation, creating a little window into the lives of the people within.

Meena and Theo were wandering around the bookshops, sharing sweets from a small bag they had popped into Honeydukes' for, occasionally picking up an old dusty tome to read the back page, wandering the isles in happy quiet as they pondered the pages for new worlds or facts.

"Found anything interesting?" Meena asked him a little while later when she discovered him in a section of textbooks regarding medicinal plants.

"Not really," he shrugged in reply. "Want to go?"

Out in the street, under the safety of a skilfully set Impervius charm, they wandered along, Meena stopping abruptly when a loud ruckus from upfront caught her attention.

Four boys, who must have been seventh-years, were walking along the street shouting and whooping merrily. A fifth boy was with them, wearing a blue Ravenclaw scarf and looking decidedly uncomfortable, and he was being pulled along by his friends. Loud cries of birthday congratulations intersected the laughs and claps on the shoulder.

The four merry boys pulled the other into a shop simply called Drink!

Meena had been observing, and she turned to Theo in question, who was smiling in amusement at the spectacle.

"What's that shop? We've never been."

Theo smiled down at her, popping a hard-boiled sweet into his mouth. "It's Drink!" he replied simply, and then chuckled at Meena's inquisitive brow-raise.

"It's basically just a shop that sells alcohol."

"Like a pub?" Meena asked as she accepted a sweet from the deceptively deep bag.

"No, it's not a place where alcohol is drunk; just sold. It's got all sorts; crates of butterbeer, wine, elf wine, mead, Firewhisky and gin, all kinds of ale and beer, and their own range of Cinnamon-Silk."

"Whats that?"

"Cinnamon-Silk? Ahh, it's a spirit; a mix between a good strong rum and an Irish-cream liquor. And it tastes like Cinnamon, obviously. We've never been because we're under-age; you're supposed to be seventeen before you can go in there, though they're a bit lax on the rules now and then."

"Yes, i can see that," Meena replied as she eyed a figure in black step out of the shop, cloak drawn about them for warmth.

She allowed them to get to the opposite side of the street before shouting his name, making Theo jump in the process.

Draco turned to her voice, looking surprised, but he smiled when he saw her duo. He casually sauntered over to them, his own Impervius charm in effect until he stopped before them.

"Hello you two. Rotting your teeth away i see." Draco smirked at the blue and yellow striped bag in Theo's hands.

"You bet," Theo replied with an answering grin. "Saw you were in Drink! Few months early, aren't you mate?"

Draco chuckled and shrugged elegantly. "Thought i'd give it a try. I don't think they really cared, as long as i had real gold in my pocket."

"What did you buy?" Theo asked.

"Oh, this and that." Draco answered with a wink. "Hey, Meena," he then said softly, running a knuckle down her cheek softly. "How are you?" he asked before clasping their hands together.

"Good thanks, Draco." She replied with a smile. "Yourself?"

"Me? I'm bloody freezing. I'm in need of a good butterbeer. Care to join me in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Would love to." She grinned.

Draco turned to Theo. "You want to come?"

Theo looked at the two, pale features and clasped hands, with smile. "Nah, it's alright. It's almost Valentines' day."

Draco and Meena exchanged confused looks. "So?"

"So i'm going to go and sit in Madame Puddifoots on my own and make the loved-up couples uncomfortable buy making googly eyes at the boys, slurping my coffee, and loudly clearing my throat each time some kid goes in for the move. I might even go the full shebang and join in with the confetti throwing."

Draco was slowly shaking his head in bemusement. "You have an odd sense of humour, you know that right?"

"It's a talent." Theo replied with a wink before he popped another sweet into his mouth and moved on down to Witches Walk.

With one last amused shake of his head, Draco turned to Meena with a smile. "So, how about that Butterbeer?"

"Lead the way." Meena smiled after him.

"Merlin, Draco, how much did you buy? Firewhisky, Knotgrass ale, elf wine...Woah, this is a fancy bottle of mead!" She read the gold embossed label; "Cru-dug-when Families Finest?" Meena struggled over the spelling; Cruduughen.

"It's pronounced Croo-do-gen," Draco replied, snatching the bottle of mead from her hands and placing it back in his bag, "And it's very special."

"I can see that. Who's it for?" Meena asked as she sipped the last of her butterbeer.

Draco shrugged, not quite looking in her eyes. "No-one really. I just bought it because."

"Because?"

"Because i could." He replied simply and drained his glass. He picked up his bag and stood, holding out his hand for her. "Where to?"

Meena shrugged. "I've no-where specific to go. Let us just wander."

Draco and Meena left the Three Broomsticks and swaddled themselves against the cold. It was still raining heavily, big fat droplets that crashed upon the ground in a loud symphony. Draco cast an Impervius charm upon themselves as they began to wander down the cobbled streets. Draco reached out one suede-gloved hand and interlocked his fingers with Meena's, lightly rubbing the tips, exposed to the cold through her fingerless gloves.

Meena smiled in content as they walked, their hands swinging idly between them. They were quiet as they walked, and by the way Draco was shifting, it wasn't from peacefulness, either.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Meena asked him as they rounded a corner.

He looked down at her in confusion, nose and cheeks pink from the howling wind. "Nothing." He replied simply.

Meena raised an eyebrow. "Draco, you're shifting about like a thief in a bank, and you're walking much faster than you normally do. Are you late for something?"

He stopped walking and shifted on his feet. "No, no i'm not late, i just..." his gaze flickered to the castle, the tallest towers visible about the treetops in the distance. "I have... potions to do."

Meena bought her hands up to her head, "Your potions!" she exclaimed, making Draco jump. "I totally forgot."

"Forgot?"

"Theo told me yesterday you wanted to do some potions this afternoon, i completely forgot. I'm sorry, i haven't ruined any brewing times i hope?"

"No, not at all," he reassured her with a charming smile. "I haven't started any yet, but i'll have to go soon or i won't have time to finish them before they go bad overnight."

"Right, thats fine. Do you need a hand? If you had to come to Hogsmede to get ingredients i'd bet you're making something you've never tried before, right? I could help."

He chuckled at her and tapped her nose lightly with his index finger. "You know me too well. No, i didn't have everything, but i do now," he said, tapping his bag. "But it's okay. I can do this one on my own, it's like meditation for me. Making potions is relaxing; like you when you read all the time. I just want to be on my own for a little."

"Okay." Meena replied. She knew this wasn't a rejection - she liked to be on her own, or at least somewhere quiet, when she read, and she knew Draco liked the same for potions. "Will you be in the Hall at dinner?"

Draco checked his wristwatch. "If all my brewing goes according to plan, then yes."

"Okay, i'll see you there."

Draco squeezed her hand in a parting gesture, before stroking her cheek lightly. "I'll see you later."

She smiled up at him and returned the squeeze. He turned to walk away and she quickly pulled him back.

"What-?"

Meena went up on her toes and lightly kissed his lips quickly, before he had time to do anything than stand in shock.

"See you later." She smiled.

"W-what was that?" he asked dumbly.

She smirked and cupped his cheek. "I told you i'm going to get better for you. I meant it. The day that i kiss you and you're not surprised will be the day i know i'm better."

His eyes shone as he smiled ever so slightly. "Take as long as you need, mon amour." And then he walked away through the rain up to the castle.

Mon amour... she thought to herself. My love... She smiled to herself as she wandered along the cobbles. She had a warm feeling of butterflies in her stomach; not only from the name, but because she had willingly kissed him once more. She smiled more broadly to herself. She was getting better.

She continued to smile as she thought about how she would be able to tell Sam about her progress, though it fell a little when she remembered that she would tell Sam she'd fallen for the Malfoy heir.

The following weekend, Meena was walking through the halls on the way to the library on a sleepy Sunday morning, face buried in a book, when she collided with someone and she went sprawling to the ground.

She pulled her curls out of her face and looked up onto the eyes of Cormac McLaggen, who was staring down at her in trepidation.

She smirked as she got up and brushed herself off. "You should watch where you're walking, McLaggen."

His face went red as six people came up behind him. "You watch where you're walking, Hope."

She slowly nodded. "So, Cormac, how's your knee? I heard you shattered the cap a few months ago."

He bared his teeth at her in a snarl. "It's fine."

She chuckled, and then she saw what he was wearing; the fiery red robes of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.

The rest of the team stepped around him then, including the tall Dean Thomas, who was still playing in place for Bell, who remained in St Mungo's.

"Meena."

"Harry." She replied and turned to him, and then she did a double take. "You look terrible."

Harry chuckled whilst the rest of the team bristled at the insult. Harry rolled his eyes. "Go down to the pitch, Team. Ginny's in charge until i get there."

The team moved on, and Meena received glares from both McLaggen and the Weasley girl.

"Where's the other Weasley?" she asked Harry.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair – it was the most unruly she had ever seen it, and he looked like he hadn't slept at all the previous night.

"In the hospital wing."

"Really? What happened?" Meena asked, out of curiosity, not care for the lad.

Harry smiled like he knew exactly that, before his face fell again. "He was poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Meena asked in surprise. "How does he fair?"

"Not too well. I had to shove a beazor down him; he stopped breathing. Whatever that poison was, it was a bad one."

"Well, i can't say i feel too bad for him; he's a prat. I do however, feel for you, having to substitute McLaggen to the team."

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, i wish there was someone better out there, but there isn't. Cormac's an ass, but he's a good Keeper. Well, at least when he's actually doing his job."

Meena turned and began to walk with Harry, so he would be able to get to his practice faster. "So it was a long night for you, then? You look like you haven't slept in forever."

He quirked his funny half-smile at her. "No offense, but i could say the same about you."

Meena checked herself in a window as they passed one, taking in the tired red eyes and her own dark circles. She sighed and turned back to Harry.

"Yeah... i don't really sleep well." she said with an attempt at nonchalance.

Harry stopped walking and cocked his head to the side, eyes laughing. "I knew it; Parkinson snores, doesn't she?"

Meena clipped him on the shoulder. "She does not," she said with a chuckle. "Millie does." she added in jest.

Harry snorted and continued down the stairs they were descending to the entrance hall. "I've got to get to practice now, Meena."

"Obviously. Have fun with McLaggen. I hope for your sake that Weasley gets better soon."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah well, i certainly won't be letting him drink mead again." and then he was gone, out the door and making his way down to the Quidditch Pitch.

Meena was stood in shock. Did he just say mead? The poison was in the mead? Her head was racing as she turned back up the stairs.

True, she said to herself. Draco did buy mead last weekend... just before going to brew potions... but Draco makes potions all the time, he always has a potion bubbling somewhere... and what reason would he have to poison Weasley anyway? No, its just a coincidence, Draco would never be so stupid as to get caught doing something like this.

If he did do this, Meena reminded herself.

She shook her head to clear her buzzing thoughts about Draco and poison, and made herself think of something else as she made her way to the library.

Luckily, once inside the library, she found the perfect distraction.

"Ernie, add one more book to that stack and you're knees are going to give out." she said in amusement.

Ernie Macmillan jumped and his pile of books went tumbling to the floor, but a quick levitation charm from Meena allowed them to avoid the wrath of Madam Pince, stopping the books before they hit the floor.

Ernie spun and stared at her. "Meena, don't creep up on people like that! You'll give someone a heart attack one day, you know."

She moulded her face into one of mocking shock. "But Ernie, i didn't creep up on you, i walked. It's not my fault you were mumbling to yourself like a madman."

Ernie glared at her for a moment before he smiled at her with a light chuckle.

"What're you doing anyway?" Meena inquired as she levitated half his books back into his arms, and took the other half for herself.

"Doing research with Neville." he replied. "Yourself?"

Meena shrugged. "I just came here with the hope of finding a decent book to read; i've almost finished my current one, and without Quidditch practice, i'm pretty sure i'm the only person that's up before ten in Slytherin on a Sunday."

"I know exactly what you mean," Ernie replied with a smile. "I'm pretty sure Justin didn't even leave the dorm last Sunday."

Meena wrinkled her nose at the thought of staying in bed all day in one of the boys' smelly dormitories. "Boys dorms smell," Meena said out loud. "I don't know how, but they always smell."

Ernie stifled a laugh - they were in the library after all. "It's a mix of testosterone, dirty socks, sweat and-"

"No!" Meena groaned. "Spare me the mental image, man!"

Ernie grinned at her as they rounded the corner and Meena grinned herself at the sight before them.

Neville sat at a desk, and books and papers were strewn about him, his hair dishevelled and a smudge of ink was already on his cheek. He looked like he'd been there for hours, and as Meena watched, he sat back, yawned and stretched, shoving the papers away with a grunt.

"Honestly," Ernie said to Meena out the side of his mouth with a hint of amusement. "We've barely been here half an hour, Neville just sucks at research."

Ernie rolled his eyes as Neville let out a melodramatic sigh.

Neville caught sight of them then and sat up a little straighter, a light blush glossing over his cheeks. "Honestly Ernie, i was just having a little rest, i've been researching all the time you were gone."

"Of course you were." Ernie replied, his tone implying that he didn't believe Neville one bit.

"Don't worry," Meena said to Neville as she placed the books on the table and took a seat opposite him. "You've got me to help now. What're you researching anyway?"

Meena glanced at the titles of the books around him; You and your wand ; a guide to Wand Lore, Expecto Patronum! Getting the feel for your patronus and Further Charms; For those who want a more through Charms knowledge.

"The Patronus charm." Neville replied.

"Why?" She asked curiously. "I thought that wasn't taught until seventh year at Hogwarts?"

"It's not."

"So... why are you studying it in your free time?" Meena asked, head cocked to the side.

"Because." Neville said, and then stubbornly dipped his head back to the book he was scanning.

"Because?"

But it looked like he wasn't going to answer.

Beside her, Ernie tutted and rolled his eyes at Neville. "Neville's having trouble producing a fully-fledged patronus, and he wants to be able to do so."

"But I don't get why you guys are even researching this," Meena said in confusion. "It's not on your curriculum yet?"

"Uhm... well, you see, last year, we had this really rubbish Defence teacher, who wouldn't let us use magic. Harry sort of created an underground group and taught us all how to do decent spells, what with the resurrection of You-Know-Who and all." Ernie replied.

Meena raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Harry taught a bunch of Fifth-years how to produce a Patronus?"

Neville nodded whilst Ernie said, "Among other things. And not everyone could do the Patronus' anyway, Neville just being stubborn because none of the friends in his immediate circle had trouble, really."

Neville sat back and crossed him arms childishly. "Everyone else can do it and I can't. It's not fair."

"Okay... So i understand the charms books, and the books about the Patronus charms... but why all the books on Wand Lore?" Meena asked, her eyes sliding over the six books she's bought to the table.

"Well, you see... up until last year, i had a different wand."

"What wand?" Meena asked.

Neville looked shy about replying, but showing his Gryffindor courage, he said; "My dad's old wand. It broke last year, and i thought that studying my new wand might help me with my pitiful magic."

"Your magic isn't pitiful, Neville. Just because you can't make a Patronus doesn't mean you aren't talented. I've never known someone be able to make things grow like you can." Ernie said comfortingly.

"Oh whoop-de-do! I can make pretty flowers. Yes, everyone knows the secret to killing Death Eaters is flowers." Neville almost cried, throwing his hands up into the air and then stubbornly crossing them.

Meena and Ernie exchanged a look.

"Neville," Meena started softly. "I understand you want to know the theory, but the best way to perform a spell is to practice it. That's the only way you'll improve. Theory is important, yes, but so is the feel of your magic. You need to know your magic. Does your magic crackle and fizz? Does it flow and ebb down your arm like the tides? Does it radiate from your soul like the shine of the sun? When you get it wrong, does it run off into the shadows, or radiate back to yourself? Does it pinwheel off producing unpredictable results or does it remain stagnant in the air, waiting to be picked up by another?"

Neville and Ernie were looking at her in speculation. "I never knew you could feel your magic." Ernie said almost to himself.

"Of course you can."

"But... how? Why?"

"Training." Meena replied simply. The boys looked to her for further explanation. "Look at it this way," She began, settling into an almost lecture-like state of mind. "The best way to become as strong as you need is to know your magic. How are you to know what magic suites you best if you don't know your own magic? I've told you all before; Hogwarts is very different to Durmstrang. There, at the age of eleven, we are taught to seek out our magic, let it consume us, get to know it, call it to us like a favoured pet. That is why Durmstrang has such a reputation for Dark wizards; we can call upon our magic when we need it most, use our entire resource when necessary."

"How do you mean, call upon your magic?" Neville asked; he was now leaning forward across the desk and his eyes were bright.

"It's... difficult to explain without understanding how your own magic feels."

"Try." He almost demanded.

"Right... Well, personally, my magic feels like the ocean. It moves in currents, flowing through my blood, over my muscles, and under my skin. It rides in waves along my body, and when i perform a spell, it feels like I'm forcing a wave of magic down my arm that breaks its crest at my wand tip, falling upon the sand as it carries out the spell.

"I can call it to me when it's needed. If i needed to protect myself, for example, i could call upon it, drawing it in like a tide, and forcing it all into one giant wave or current, and it would be stronger than me just performing a protective enchantment.

"It's difficult to explain because to others, their magic might not feel like waves, but like, say, static energy that fizzles about themselves, and when they call upon it, it feels like a strong, fizzing, crackling ball of pure energy within them.

"Depending on how your magic feels also depends on how well you perform different kinds of magic. My waves are good for offensive magic, because i can force it forward quickly like the smothering of a sand castle upon the shore. Those who radiate their power like the sun would be better suited for defensive magic, because it shines out of them and surrounds them in their pulsing waves of power.

"Do you see what I'm trying to convey here?" she said desperately.

Neville nodded his head feverishly, whilst Ernie looked sceptical. "I can kind of understand what you mean," he started, eyes half closed in concentration. "But i'm having difficulties actually picturing it. Could you show us?"

"Can you teach us?!" Neville asked desperately.

"Uhm..." Meena said uncertainly; she only wanted to help. She didn't suddenly want to be teaching people -she was rubbish at teaching. "I'll try, i suppose, but i'm not making any promises, if you can't do it it's not my fault."

Neville proceeded to whoop loudly, causing Madame Pince to swoop down upon them like a falcon and dump them outside the library. The trio parted ways, with promises to meet up once more in a half hour.

When Meena asked where they were to practice, the boys just shared a secret smile and said mischievously; "We know the perfect place."