Queen of the Night: Years 1-3

by awalkerlifeforme

Tara Nox was born in Godric's Hollow nine months before Harry Potter. For a year of infancy they were like siblings, until Voldemort attacked. Tara's family was forced to flee to America while Harry was sent to live with the Dursley's. Now, nine years later, Tara returns to befriend the boy that doesn't remember her, and more importantly, to protect him from the evils to come.

25. Mudbloods and Murmurs

The next few days felt like one massive game of hide-and-seek. Harry and I were spending almost all of our time ducking out of the way of Gilderoy Lockhart any time that we saw him strutting happily down the halls. It had caused a few little problems in Hogwarts recently. One of my particular favorite moments was when I saw Lockhart coming up the same staircase that I was about to go down to get to breakfast. He had been trying to correct a Prefect on the proper way to brew the Forgetfulness Potion - something that First Years could do - as they walked. Of course, he'd been telling her the wrong way to do it.

The Prefect - Penelope Clearwater, the girl that I was reasonably certain had a crush on Percy - had managed to brush off Lockhart to get away from him. I'd been right at the top of the staircase, by myself, when he'd turned towards me. Panicking, I'd rushed off. Without thinking I'd gone straight down one of Fred and George's hidden pathways. What I hadn't been expecting was for the twins to actually be in it. The three of us had toppled over each other near the exit and had been spit out on the other side of the castle. We'd stumbled straight into one of the suits of armor and destroyed it, the three of us crashing into it and breaking small pieces off, much to its displeasure. I was grateful that most people were in class, keeping the clattering commotion between us.

It was one of the few things that I'd gotten away with, without a detention or any loss in points. Although the suits of armor now humphed at me and stalked off any time that they saw me coming. Fred and George liked to insist that it was my fault, which it probably was. None of the other students quite understood why the suits of armor suddenly seemed to hate me so much. They also didn't understand why the twins and I walked around like we were older than Dumbledore for a few days. Just like the incident with the Whomping Willow, I was sure that the suit of armor had done more damage to me than I had done to it.

Beside trying to avoid Lockhart - and injuring myself in the process - I spent a lot of time trying to avoid was Colin Creevey. It wasn't that I didn't like him. He was a sweet boy that really seemed to enjoy being a wizard. He reminded me a little bit of Hermione, maybe even more enthusiastic. Although I did avoid him as much as I could, considering that nearly every time that we would be found together, Lockhart wouldn't be far behind. It would only bring about the conversation about how I 'had every boy in Hogwarts wrapped around my finger' and needed to pick one. I was absolutely sure that Dumbledore had stepped in to ask how I liked the coffee one morning just so that I wouldn't dump it on Lockhart's fat head. It was the reason that I now tried to only speak to Colin in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry was trying to avoid the two just as much as I was. It had resulted in some disasters between us. Shoving each other to get down the flights of stairs to avoid Lockhart, stumbling into a functioning classroom to avoid Colin's camera (for which I was still hearing jokes for interrupting Cedric's Muggle Studies class), and nearly getting sick from shoveling down our food to get out of the Great Hall before either one could find us. It didn't always work, considering that Colin seemed to have memorized our schedule. Nothing gave Colin a bigger thrill than to say, 'All right, Harry?' six or seven times a day and hear, 'Hello, Colin,' back, however exasperated Harry sounded when he said it. He still hadn't stopped blushing furiously every time that I spoke to him.

Just like Dai was still angry with me, Hedwig was still angry with Harry about the disastrous car journey. Every morning Dai swooped in to hit me over the head with his wing, steal my food, and occasionally spill my drink. The damn bird held a better grudge than I did. Hedwig appeared less often, but had given Harry a nasty bite on the hand when he'd tried to pet her one morning when she'd come to eat his toast. We weren't the only ones still suffering. Ron's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Ron's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck. We were all shocked that he hadn't been given a detention for it.

It would have been nice if I could say that all of those things were the end of my disastrous first week back. But there had been smaller things, too. Fred and George had played a prank on me on Wednesday that had caused me to stick to my seat in the Great Hall at breakfast. After toppling backwards off of my seat to get myself unstuck - earning laughter from everyone in the Great Hall - I'd thrown a water goblet at their heads in a burst of frustration after a particularly embarrassing comment from Lockhart in class the previous day about how 'Dugglery' should have been old enough to not patronize someone as young as me.

The comment hadn't gone over well for anyone. I'd made a nasty retort asking him whether or not that sounded familiar to him and had received a twenty point deduction from Gryffindor. No one seemed angry, more shocked that I had dared to say something like that. I was just grateful that I hadn't gotten a detention. The flying water goblet had earned me another ten points from Gryffindor. Thankfully Fred and George had been given two detentions each from Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore had seemed almost amused at the whole situation. I remember thinking some not-so-flattering things about him at that moment.

My hatred for Dumbledore was ended very quickly when, later that day, he mentioned in a soft, passing, comment to Lockhart that my parents' anniversary was coming up in a matter of days, and since he had been so close to my mother, he should send them a present. It was the first time that I'd heard Dumbledore speak in something that wasn't an announcement to the school that was around so many students. I had a feeling that he had done it just because he knew how frustrated I was. It helped that Lockhart had gone red in the face and walked off, mumbling something about 'Can't get out to buy a present,' leaving Dumbledore to look at me with his ever-twinkling eyes.

That had been the highlight of my week. So with one thing and another, I found myself quite glad to reach the weekend. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were planning to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning. In the meantime I was trying to enjoy as much sleep as I possibly could. Being so irritable every second of every day was draining. But I'd managed to sleep pretty well so far. I should have known that it wouldn't stay that long. I was shaken awake several hours earlier than I would have liked by Angelina Johnson, one of the main Chasers on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Barely managing to peel my face off of the pillow, I stared at her. "Who died?" I asked groggily.

Angelina looked like I had slapped her. Parvati, Fay, Hermione, and Lavender were all still asleep. Lucky. "What? No one," Angelina told me, keeping her voice low so to not wake up the other girls in the dorm.

"Then go away," I told her, shoving my face back into the pillows.

Angelina grabbed my arm and began to pull me from the bed. I locked my arms around the bedposts, not ready to leave yet. "It's time for practice," she told me.

My head shot upwards. There was no way that it was seven in the morning. That was normally the earliest that Oliver had us out for practice. I glanced over at the Muggle alarm clock that Hermione always brought with her and immediately snapped my head back over to Angelina as I realized what time it was.

"It's four in the morning!" I hissed at her, a little louder than I would have liked, as Parvati hissed at me to go back to bed.

By the look on Angelina's face, I could tell that she didn't want this to be happening either. "Tell that to Oliver. He told us last night that we would have to come and get you this morning," she said.

"For the love of Merlin, Angelina, you can hide up here from Oliver, but I am not going down to practice this early. It's the crack of dawn," I told her, trying to curl in on myself as she ripped the blanket from my body.

"I'm not getting kicked off of the team for missing practice, and neither are you, come on," Angelina said.

Her hands were on my legs as she attempted to yank me out of the bed. I groaned and held onto the wooden post, trying to kick out at Angelina the same time. "Tara?" Hermione asked softly, barely raising her head from her bed.

She was one of the earliest risers that I knew, but even she wouldn't wake up at four in the morning. "Go back to bed, Hermione," I told her.

"What's happened?" she asked me.

"Quidditch practice," I explained.

Her eyes widened slightly, still riddled with sleep, as she glanced over at the alarm clock. She looked just as shocked as I had been a little earlier. "It's four in the morning," she said.

"Tell that to Oliver," I grumbled.

"Oh," Hermione said dumbly. "Have fun then."

And with that, she dropped her head back down onto the pillows and went back to sleep. I rolled my eyes at her and turned my head over to the window. I was squinting into the rapidly-brightening sky. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink-and-gold sky. Glancing downwards, I could have sworn that I already saw Oliver down on the Pitch. Now that I was awake, I couldn't understand how I could have slept through the racket the birds were making. Of course, they'd been much worse back in Florida. Yawning and shivering slightly, I weakly climbed out of bed and tried to find my Quidditch robes in my trunk.

Unfortunately they had been some of the first things that I had thrown in, and that meant that they were down at the bottom. "Good," Angelina said as she turned to leave. "Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes." I nodded at her, slowly drifting back over to the bed. "Don't you dare go back to sleep! I'll send Fred and George up here," she hissed, knowing what I was about to do.

"Go ahead," I told her, grinning wickedly. "There's an enchantment on the staircase."

Back when the founders had built Hogwarts - not just Godric Gryffindor, they all had - the four founders of Hogwarts had still believed the common myth that girls were more trustworthy than boys. Of course, that was probably true. Godric Gryffindor had enchanted the staircase up to the girl's dormitory to turn into a slide if any boy tried to walk up them. No enchantment was placed on the boys staircase, since back then, people believed that if a girl was heading up to a boys dorm, there would be no nonsense happening. It was very lucky for us, but not really lucky at all for the boys. Although it was definitely funny.

Judging by the look on Angelina's face, I assumed that she had already planned for this. "Or we could go and get Diggory to wake you up with a little kiss," she teased.

I was extremely grateful that none of the other girls heard her. "Shut up," I snapped at her, jumping up from the bed and slowly trudging around. "I'm up... I'm up..." I muttered.

She smiled at me and nodded at her own handiwork, turning and heading back downstairs. Moving deliberately slowly, I went to gather my things. It took me a while to find my team robes and pull them on. More than once I stumbled or ran into one of the beds. Once I had gotten them on, I yanked Fred's winter cloak over me. The morning air was definitely cold right now. Once I was sure that I had everything, I grabbed a quill and scribbled a note to Hermione that I would meet her as soon as practice was over. I gathered my hair together in a loop and went down the spiral staircase to the Common Room, my Nimbus Two Thousand over my shoulder.

Not surprising at all, Harry was already down there. He looked exactly the same as I did, perhaps even more tired than me. "So you've been woken up, too?" I asked him.

"Uh-huh. Oliver got me, you?" he asked.

Of course Oliver was the one to wake Harry up. Maybe I'd gotten off lucky, considering that he couldn't have gotten me, it had to be one of the girls. "Angelina," I said.

The two of us trudged towards the end of the Common Room, heading towards the back of the Fat Lady portrait, when Harry spoke again. "You know, I think between all of us, we could probably whack Oliver over the head to knock him out long enough for us to get a good night's sleep," he joked with me.

Grinning brightly at him, I nodded. "I'll gather Fred and George," I said jokingly.

It wasn't really that much of a joke. I was really tempted to beat in Oliver's head with my broom. We had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind us. We turned back to see who else was awake this early. It didn't take very long for us to find out. In an instant, Colin Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something clutched in his hand. He looked more like he was flying than running.

Perhaps he would be good at Quidditch. He was certainly fast enough. "I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harry!" Colin chirped breathlessly. "Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you."

Harry and I looked bemusedly at the photograph Colin was brandishing under our noses. We both looked over it and I groaned. Even at four in the morning in the Gryffindor Common Room, Lockhart was still appearing all around me. The picture was a moving, black-and-white Lockhart was tugging hard on an arm that I recognized as Harry's. I was very pleased to see that Harry's photographic self was putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. It took me a moment to realize that we were waiting for Potions. A second later we could barely see Snape's robes sweep past and my own hair float through the photo, ducking away from Lockhart. As I watched, Lockhart gave up and slumped, panting, against the white edge of the picture.

Colin was grinning down at the photo. I assumed that he was very proud to have almost have gotten Harry Potter and Gilderoy Lockhart in the same picture. He looked up at us. He seemed to finally realize that I was standing with Harry. "Oh... Hello, Tara," he said.

As per usual when Colin saw me, his face went a brilliant scarlet. I smiled and waved at him. Colin wasn't really that bad. His crush was harmless. And I would have rather had ten Colin Creevey's than one Gilderoy Lockhart. Colin liked to appear at my side as frequently as possible. Although, he was barely able to maintain a conversation with me without turning into a stuttering mess. He had asked me for a picture a few days ago, telling me that he was going to send home pictures of his friends to his father. I could only hope that he hadn't included a letter with my picture about how I was his girlfriend. His father would have never known.

"Hi, Colin," I greeted, earning another brilliant blush. "What are you doing up this early?"

"Oh, I'm not much for sleeping in," Colin said.

My watch told me that it was just past four-thirty in the morning. Smiling softly at Colin, I shook my head. "Six o'clock is sleeping in?" I asked him with a teasing smile.

Colin blushed furiously and lost my gaze for a moment, probably too embarrassed to hold it. "It is for a milkman's son," he said. I nodded at him. That was true. Milkmen were probably up pretty early every morning to start delivering the bottles. Will you sign it, Harry?" Colin asked eagerly, pushing the picture towards him.

"No," Harry said flatly, glancing around to check that the room was really deserted. I stomped on his foot. Colin wasn't a bad kid, just a little eager. Harry groaned but realized that he really should have been a little nicer to the First Year. "Sorry, Colin, we're in a hurry - Quidditch practice."

Harry wrapped an arm around mine and yanked me with him. We climbed through the portrait hole. "Oh, wow! Wait for me! I've never watched a Quidditch game before!" Colin scrambled through the hole after us.

I glanced up at Harry, knowing that he did not want Colin coming to the practice with us. "It'll be really boring," Harry said quickly, but Colin ignored him, his face shining with excitement.

"You two were the youngest House players in a hundred years, weren't you, Harry? Weren't you?" Colin asked, trotting alongside us. I noticed that Harry picked up his pace, dragging me with him, probably hoping to lose Colin. "You both must be brilliant. I've never flown. Is it easy? Is that your own broom? Is that the best one there is? I heard that your dad was a professional player, Tara."

He said all of this very fast, and it was nearly impossible to know when he was going to stop. When he said nothing more, I assumed that he wanted the answer. I nodded at him. "Marcus Nox. United States Stars Head Chaser for eight years," I explained.

Colin was staring at me with wide eyes. He looked absolutely amazed that I not only knew a professional player, but I was related to one. "You must be just as good as him," he said.

"I like to think that I'm better," I joked.

Once more, Colin's face began to resemble a tomato. Harry rolled his eyes at us and I nudged him roughly, wanting him to play nicely. "I - uh - I can't wait to watch you play..." Colin trailed off, staring at the ground.

"First match will be in a few weeks," I answered him.

Harry leaned over to me as Colin looked at the ground. The younger boy wasn't paying any mind to us as Harry spoke lowly in my ear. "You're giving him hope," Harry hissed at me.

"Shut up," I snapped at him.

Our walk down to the Quidditch Pitch was not the nice and quiet one that I would have liked. Not that I was really expecting there to be a nice and quiet walk. There never was. Not at Hogwarts. But as we walked, it wasn't Peeves the Poltergeist, the suits or armor that now hated me, or any of the professors that were harassing us. Today it was Colin's endless questions about what it was like to fly, what it was like to play on a Quidditch team, and all of the rules that we had broken to actually get onto the team. Harry and I didn't know how to get rid of him. It was like having an extremely talkative shadow.

The entire time I kept trying to remind myself that it could have been Lockhart here with us. "I don't really understand Quidditch. Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly around trying to knock people off their brooms?" Colin asked us breathlessly.

I glared at Harry, letting him know silently that he was the one that had attracted Colin's attention in the first place, and he was the one that needed to explain it. "Yes," Harry said heavily, resigned to explaining the complicated rules of Quidditch. "They're called Bludgers. There are two Beaters on each team who carry clubs to beat the Bludgers away from their side. Fred and George Weasley are the Gryffindor Beaters."

Colin looked fascinated. I put in, "I had two ribs broken by one last year."

His head whipped over to me with his eyes as wide as saucers. "Really?" he asked me. I nodded at him. "I'm glad that you're alright."

I decided that telling him that the Bludger had been aimed by Voldemort disguising himself as our old Defense teacher to kill Harry would probably not be a good idea. So I stuck with saying, "Thanks. Me too. Professor Dumbledore was there and saw it happen. He came and fixed them up for me."

Colin was hanging onto my every word. He looked shocked that I had been involved in something as violent as a few broken ribs. "I can't believe you aren't afraid to fly after that," he muttered.

Quickly, I shook my head at him. I would never want to stop flying or stop playing Quidditch. "Nah. I've had plenty worse. Broken fingers and toes, a nose and a few ribs. Easy fixes. No big deal," I said. The look on Colin's face told me that he thought that it was a very big deal. "Play long enough and you're sure to break something at some point or another."

Harry did not look grateful that I'd said that. He'd gotten off lucky so far, other than the whole part when Voldemort had tried to kill him by throwing him off of his broom. "You're amazing..." Colin trailed off. I smiled at him and covered my face, trying very hard not to laugh. Colin realized what he'd said a second later. "I - I mean - That's amazing!" He then turned to Harry. "And what are the other balls for?" he asked as he tripped down a couple of steps because he was gazing open-mouthed at Harry and I.

For a moment I'd thought that I'd have to catch him, but he managed to right himself. "Well, the Quaffle - that's the biggish red one - is the one that scores goals. Three Chasers on each team throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through the goal posts at the end of the pitch - they're three long poles with hoops on the end. Tara is our alternate Chaser, since we didn't have room for another main," Harry explained to Colin.

"When will you be on the normal team?" Colin asked me.

"My Fourth Year. Two years from now," I said.

Colin smiled at me. It was the most confident that I'd seen him around me yet. "Awesome. And the fourth ball," he prodded Harry.

He let out a small sigh. "- is the Golden Snitch, and it's very small, very fast, and difficult to catch," Harry said. "But that's what the Seeker's got to do, because a game of Quidditch doesn't end until the Snitch has been caught. And whichever team's Seeker gets the Snitch earns his team an extra hundred and fifty points."

Not too long ago, Harry had been just as lost as Colin when it came to Quidditch. But I decided not to say that, knowing that Harry wouldn't appreciate that. "And you're the Gryffindor Seeker, aren't you?" Colin asked in awe.

"Yes," Harry said as we left the castle and started across the dew-drenched grass. A few times I slid a little on the wet grass. "And there's the Keeper, too. He guards the goal posts. That's it, really," Harry explained to Colin.

"Our Captain, Oliver Wood, is the Keeper," I continued.

Harry looked very frustrated that I'd merely continued urging Colin to ask questions. Colin launched into asking us all about the other members on the team, how long they'd been on, and nearly everything else about them. I told him, hoping that he might start bothering them like he did with us. But Colin didn't stop questioning Harry and I all the way down the sloping lawns to the Quidditch Pitch. We were only able to shake him off when we reached the changing rooms. As we walked in, Colin called after us in a piping voice that he would go and get a good seat, before hurrying off to the stands.

The way that Harry rolled his eyes made me almost wish that his face had gotten stuck like that. I would have loved to see the look on the Dursley's faces. "Come on, it's kind of sweet," I tried to tell Harry.

He looked over at me with a very bored face. "It's annoying, Tara," he said.

"Don't be rude," I snapped.

Harry rolled his eyes at me again. I wondered if this was how Hermione felt when she was trying to talk us out of doing something. Or maybe if this was the way that she felt about my hatred of Lockhart. "At least I'm not like Lockhart," Harry said, bringing the offending teacher into the conversation.

Glancing around quickly, to ensure that Lockhart hadn't somehow heard Harry and I speaking about him and charged out to give us another lecture, I turned back to Harry. "If you ever become like Lockhart, Voldemort will be the least of your worries. I'll kill you myself," I snapped at him.

"I'll ask you to," Harry said.

We both laughed as we walked into the changing room. It was all open but there was a set of lockers separating the girl's side from the boys. The rest of the Gryffindor team was already in the changing room. Everyone was sitting on the boy's side. It was the larger one. It seemed that they were waiting for us. Oliver was the only person who looked truly awake. Fred and George were sitting, puffy-eyed and tousle-haired, next to Fourth Year Alicia Spinnet, who seemed to be nodding off against the wall behind her. The other Chasers, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, were yawning side by side opposite them. Angelina looked much less awake than she had twenty minutes ago.

Oliver glanced up at us as we walked in. "There you are, Harry, Tara, what kept you?" Oliver asked briskly.

Rolling my eyes at Oliver, I dropped onto the bench in front of Fred and George, Harry at my side. "Right. We should have been down here at three. I'll keep that in mind next time," I said. Oliver glared at me, but said nothing. "Oliver. It's the crack of dawn. Why are we down here?" I asked him.

"Exactly," he said excitedly. That was his only response to me. I loved Oliver a lot, but he could be a bit much for me. He was a tall and burly Sixth Year Quidditch enthusiast and, at the moment, his eyes were gleaming with a crazed enthusiasm. "It's part of our new training program. None of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year," he said.

"Shocking," I muttered.

The few people that remained awake laughed. "Knock it off," Oliver said. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference..."

Oliver was holding up a large diagram of a Quidditch Pitch, on which were drawn many lines, arrows, and crosses in different-colored inks. It was obviously the new routines that he had been telling me about when we'd sat together in the Leaky Cauldron one day. I groaned and leaned back, having already heard this. I should not have been woken up for this. Oliver took out his wand, tapped the board, and the arrows began to wiggle over the diagram like caterpillars. As Oliver launched into a speech about his new tactics, Fred's head drooped right onto Alicia's shoulder and he began to snore.

As much as I didn't want to hear everything, I really did try to listen. But it didn't last long. The first board took nearly twenty minutes to explain, but there was another board under that, and a third under that one. More were stacked up on the edge of the wall. After a few minutes I leaned back and fell asleep on Fred's stomach. His breathing was somewhat like a lullaby. Eventually his arm draped over me and I used it as a blanket. Harry slowly fell asleep on my arm as George fell asleep on my stomach. It wasn't long before everyone on the team was linked together, each person using a piece of another as a pillow.

For the entire time, Oliver was none the wiser. He droned on and on for hours. "So," Oliver said, at long last, jerking me from a wistful fantasy about what I could have been eating for breakfast at this very moment up at the castle. Coffee... Merlin I need coffee... Everyone quickly sprang up, pretending to have been awake the entire time. "Is that clear? Any questions?"

It was very obvious that everyone had questions, considering no one had really been listening. But no one said anything. "Yeah," I finally said. Oliver looked excited as he turned towards me. "Since when was a three-hour explanation quick?"

Fred's shaking stomach told me that he was laughing. "It was not three hours," Oliver huffed indignantly.

"Yes it was," everyone said at once.

If I had thought that Oliver might be ashamed at his overly-long explanation, I was dead wrong. He didn't seem to care that he had woken us up at four in the morning to drone on for three hours. "I've got a question, Oliver," George said, who had woken with a start. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"

Oliver wasn't pleased by our complaining. "Now, listen here, you lot," he said, glowering at us all. "We should have won the Quidditch Cup last year. We're easily the best team." He was right about that. We really should have won. "But unfortunately - owing to circumstances beyond our control -"

Harry and I both shifted guiltily in our seats. It was entirely our fault that Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup. It had been Ravenclaw, much to my disappointment. Cho Chang had rubbed it in my face. Not that it mattered, my comment about defeating Voldemort and saving the school was enough to shut her up. But, during our last match against Ravenclaw the prior year, Harry and I had been unconscious in the hospital wing after facing off with Professor Quirrell and Voldemort. As Dumbledore had said, we'd both suffered grievous injuries. That meant that Gryffindor had been a regular player short with no one to take his place. It also meant that we had suffered our worst defeat in three hundred years. No one had been that upset though, save Oliver. Most people had just been concerned on whether or not Harry and I were alive.

Everyone had said that the match wasn't that interesting anyways. Oliver took a moment to regain control of himself. Our last defeat was clearly still torturing him. "So this year, we train harder than ever before," Oliver said. We all nodded our agreement. "Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!" Oliver shouted, seizing his broomstick and leading the way out of the locker rooms.

Giving each other a long look, we knew that it wouldn't be worth the argument to ignore Oliver's call for us to leave. So, everyone had to fight to disentangle themselves from our massive human pillow. Stiff-legged and still yawning, the team followed. We had been in the locker room so long - three hours, just as I'd said - that the sun was up completely now. I groaned and dropped Fred's winter cloak on the lower stands. It would be too warm to wear it. He had given it to me last winter and I'd never given it back. Not that he'd asked for it. Remnants of mist still hung over the grass in the stadium. As I walked onto the field, I saw Ron and Hermione sitting in the stands.

It wasn't uncommon for people to come and watch the Quidditch practices. As long as they weren't in opposing Houses or on the other teams. Neville, Dean, Seamus, Parvati, Fay, and Lavender had all come to a few of the practices, too. Ron and Hermione usually came to the ones that Harry and I went to on the weekends so that we could leave together afterwards.

Hermione nudged Ron to let him know that we were coming out yet. "Aren't you finished yet?" Ron called incredulously.

Harry and I exchanged a sad look. "Haven't even started," Harry called. We were both looking jealously at the toast and marmalade Ron and Hermione had brought out of the Great Hall. My stomach gave a nasty rumble. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

As the team continued to move out to the center of the Pitch, I called out to Ron. "Oi, toss me a piece of toast!" I shouted.

It looked like Hermione was about to launch into a full explanation of why eating right before playing Quidditch would have been a bad idea - which I would have loved to throw in her face from last year when she'd tried to get me to ear before the first match - but Ron ignored her. Instead he gathered a piece of toast and tossed it down to me. I was about to catch it when a taller figure stepped in front of me and grabbed the bread from the air. I turned my glare on Fred, who was backing away from me while taking a bite of the toast. He sent me a little wink as he swallowed what she have been my breakfast.

"Fred!" I hissed angrily.

He grinned at me and moved forward, keeping the toast just out of reach. "We'll split it," he offered, beginning to make a tear in the middle of the slice.

"I'll give you the whole thing if you kill Oliver," I told him.

Fred laughed and split the piece of toast straight down the middle. I would have liked to have some of the jam that Hermione had with it, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Here you go," he said.

He was trying to hand me the smaller piece that he had already taken a bite out of. I shoved it away. "Uh-uh, bigger piece, you prat," I snapped. Fred smiled and made no argument as he handed me the whole piece. "Thank you. You make a good pillow, by the way."

The two of us both quickly ate our pieces of toast. "You can always use me as a pillow," Fred teased.

He would live to regret that when I used him as a pillow whenever the two of us were around. "Don't make that promise, I'll take you up on it," I teased back, giving him a gentle nudge.

"Fred! Tara!" Oliver's voice echoed through the Pitch. We both groaned at him. "Let's go!"

Thankfully Oliver was giving us a little bit of time to get started since we were going to be spending so much of the day out here. The two of us both mounted our broomsticks - myself having to wrestle my broom from Fred as he attempted to snatch it - and kicked at the ground, soaring up into the air. I attempted to steady myself, still tired from the early wake-up call. One harsh quiver of the broom - and an impressive catch from Harry as I began to tilt off - and I was fully awake. The cool morning air whipped at my face as I rushed through the stadium. It didn't take long for me to start smiling, being absolutely thrilled to be back on the Quidditch Pitch.

We spent much of the first half an hour of practice having fun with each other. Oliver and I took turns racing at the other at full speed and then trying to cut the other off. I was definitely better at it, but I could see how Oliver was our Keeper. Even with the slower broom, he was really good. It was almost impossible to get past him. Later on, I joined Alicia, Katie, and Angelina at the far side of the Pitch, practicing dives and swoops away from the boys. Of course, after a while we'd stopped flying and started gossiping. Angelina was complaining about the unwanted attentions of Lee Jordan, Katie was just a year older than I was and liked to tease me about Cedric, and Alicia was close friends with Cho Chang and I was always grateful that she kept her out of conversations.

The four of us weren't soaring up in the air for very long before Oliver started howling at us to at least do something that was productive. It was either that or he was going to start making us run laps. And no one wanted to do that. So we all separated and I flew to the far end of the Pitch. I rocketed over Ron and Hermione, briefly nudging the two of them as I flew overhead. They both laughed as I turned and headed back to where Harry and the twins were. They seemed to be starting a race. George offered me to join and I did, flying up beside them. On Fred's mark, we began flying right around the stadium at full speed, racing each other for the win.

"What's that funny clicking noise?" Fred called as we hurtled around the corner.

There was indeed a funny clicking noise. As we flew over the Hufflepuff section I glanced down. There were only a few people that were sitting in the stands, save Ron and Hermione. Lee Jordan was there as well, and it seemed that Dean, Seamus, and Neville had recently come down, too. And it only took me a second to find the source of the clicking noise. Colin Creevey was sitting in one of the highest seats, his camera raised, and taking picture after picture; the sound strangely magnified in the deserted stadium.

It was so much different than when the stadium was full and the cheers rang out over the entire ground. "That's a Muggle camera. Taking pictures," I called to the twins.

Harry seemed to be looking anywhere but at Colin. "Do we have a school photographer?" George asked.

"Don't think so," I muttered.

The last thing that I wanted was for Colin to shout after us. Fred and George would never let it go. "Look this way, Harry! This way!" he cried shrilly.

"Who's that?" Fred asked.

Harry cringed. "No idea," he lied, putting on a spurt of speed that took him as far away as possible from Colin.

I laughed softly and prepared to follow him to the other end of the stadium when Colin's voice rang out again. "Hi, Tara!" Colin shouted.

Fred turned a wicked grin on me. Wonderful. "No idea, huh?" he asked.

Putting on a burst of speed, I raced away from Colin, pretending that I hadn't heard him. Fred merely followed me. I knew that he wouldn't stop harassing me until I told him about the new boy. So I slowed and flew alongside him. "He's a new Gryffindor First Year that's taken a liking to Harry and I," I muttered to the red-head.

Fred's lips turned upwards and I groaned. "Oh, he has a crush on you! That's adorable. We can go and tell him everything about you," he said, moving to turn the broom handle.

Grabbing his broom handle, I yanked it towards me. Fred wobbled but steadied himself. "You will do no such thing!" I hissed at him. Fred was smiling at me. "Lockhart embarrassed the poor boy enough by admitting his crush on me to the entire school. He's a little excited, but he's sweet. Leave him be," I demanded.

"Think Diggory will compete with him for your affections?" Fred teased.

"You keep your mouth shut," I hissed.

We weren't left in peace for long. Oliver seemed to have spotted the problem and flew up beside Harry, Fred, and I. "What's going on?" he asked. George was close behind him. "Why's that First Year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program."

"He's in Gryffindor," Harry said quickly.

"He's Harry's number one fan," I put in wickedly.

There were snickers exchanged through the other players. Harry's face brightened slightly as I smiled at him. "Shut up, Tara," he muttered.

Smiling at him, I wrapped my arm around him, being very careful not to knock both of us to the ground. "And the Slytherin's don't need a spy, Oliver," George said.

"What makes you say that?" Oliver asked testily.

"Because they're here in person," George said, pointing.

Everyone's heads whipped towards where George was pointing. He was right. The Slytherin team was already here, marching towards the entrance to the Pitch. I would have thought that Oliver was going to explode if he wasn't so determined to beat Slytherin into the ground. Several of their players in bright emerald robes were walking onto the field, broomsticks in their hands. I raised a brow. Their previous Seeker, Terence Higgs (who actually wasn't that bad of a person) had graduated at the end of last year. They would have needed a new one, but I couldn't see any new players with them.

Turning over towards Oliver, I raised my eyebrows. I couldn't believe that he hadn't booked the Pitch. He always did. "Did you not book the Pitch?" I asked him.

"Of course I did!" Oliver snapped at me.

Blushing slightly, I nodded at him. Oliver was never a good person to anger, and when it came to Slytherin and Quidditch, it became even worse. "Maybe they're just waiting for their turn," I offered.

Oliver shook his head at me. I hadn't thought so, but I'd been willing to go out on a limb. "Doubtful. I don't believe it!" Oliver hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"

"Wait. All day?" I asked.

As much as I loved Quidditch, I really didn't want to be out here all day. "Come on," Fred said, grabbing my arm and yanking me with him.

Oliver had completely ignored my question anyways. Without warning, Oliver shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. It was one of the most awkward landings that I'd ever seen him make. It wasn't long before Harry, Fred, George, and I followed. Angelina, Katie, and Alicia were watching from a distance. I had a feeling that they would be making their way down soon, too. Hermione and Ron had straightened up, curious as to what was happening.

"Flint!" Oliver bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Oliver. He had very large front teeth that paired well with bushy eyebrows and seemed the type that would kick puppies for fun. He was always nasty and tried to get the girls out of the game as fast as he could. Last year he'd whacked a Bludger towards my head that I'd very nearly missed. Of course, it had been taken as an accident so nothing had happened. It didn't mean that I didn't avoid Flint as much as possible. He was in his later years at Hogwarts and I looked forward to the day that he was gone.

Currently he looked very proud of himself as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Just as I had suspected, the girls followed close behind us. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. They came to stand next to me as I stood just behind Oliver. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindor's. It wasn't shocking. They wanted brute strength. It was probably the reason that they didn't win any of their games. They didn't have anyone that was thin and lean, easily able to wind in and out of the players.

Not that I would ever tell them that. "But I booked the field! I booked it!" Oliver hissed, spitting with fury.

"Ah. But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape," Flint said, unrolling a small piece of parchment. He read off, "'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Unfortunately, if that note really was from Snape, and he'd given them special permission to train a new Seeker, just as Oliver had gotten special permission to train Harry and I last year from Professor McGonagall, there was nothing that we could do. "You've got a new Seeker? Where?" Oliver asked, looking around.

The rest of us followed suit in trying to find the new player. As far as I could see, there were only six players. Slytherin players never had an alternate on their team. They were too cocky to think that they might need one. Interrupting my thoughts, the six previous players on the team all separated to show us their new Seeker. The seventh, smaller boy, had a proud smirk all over his pale, pointed face. If I hadn't been so concerned that he would laugh, my jaw would have dropped. It was Draco Malfoy.

"You're joking," I said before I could stop myself. Malfoy had been smirking at Harry, but his gaze quickly turned to me. "You have to ruin Quidditch for me, too?" I snarled at him.

Katie's hand was on me, keeping me from moving towards him. "Should've let that jar crush you," Malfoy hissed back at me.

Of course, he was referring to the glass jar that the Cornish pixies had thrown in Defense on our first day that would have killed me had it landed on me. I had just been tripped by one of them a second prior and fallen over Malfoy. The two of us had been staring at each other when a few of them had tipped the jar over where I'd been sitting. Malfoy had sprung after me and tackled the two of us backwards, keeping me from becoming a human pancake. I still hadn't thanked him for it.

"Should've, would've, could've," I snapped back.

Not that he really seemed to mind that I hadn't apologized. He'd seemed shocked enough that he had risked his life to save mine. "Scared you might lose to me?" Malfoy asked me.

I scoffed loudly at him. "You wish. More concerned that we'll all have to lose a day of practice when we have to scrape you off of the ground after the first match," I told him.

There was scattered laughter from the girls behind me. "Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred asked, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

The moment that I thought that Malfoy would make a nasty retort about the Weasley's money problems, Flint spoke. "Funny you should mention Draco's father," the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

The Gryffindor's all seemed confused at these words. I certainly was. All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindor's' noses in the early morning sun. I rolled my eyes. Dad had just pleaded with Mom to get him one. She had, with his promise that he would do the dishes and laundry for a month. They were incredibly expensive. Almost twice as much as the Nimbus Two Thousand and One's were. I immediately debated on sending Dad a letter, asking if I could borrow his for the year.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," Flint said carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount." He glared at Harry and I, who were both clutching our brooms tightly. "As for the old Cleansweeps," he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives, "sweeps the board with them."

It didn't matter. We would still win. "Good broom or not, you still won't win," I snapped.

"Willing to bet money?" Malfoy asked me.

"Sure," I said carelessly. His money didn't scare me. I could match it. "Like I said, we're going to win. So you had your father buy you a spot on the team?" I asked, finally realizing how he had made it onto the team.

Malfoy was very good at quickly recovering from his previous blush. "I got in on talent," he sneered at me.

"And the brooms simply happened to come with that?" I asked.

There was more laughter. This time the entire Gryffindor team laughed. Save Oliver, who was still too busy glaring at Flint to have even noticed the pissing contest between Malfoy and I. None of the rest of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. There really wasn't anything to say. They were right about one thing. The Nimbus Two Thousand and One was definitely better than any other broom on the market right now. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look. A field invasion," Flint said, drawing my attention away from the Slytherin team.

By now there were quite a few people that were out on the grounds. It was a weekend and people liked to hang outside. Plus, it was early in the year so few people were spending time studying in the library or Common Rooms yet. There was also the fact that the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch teams - who had always been notorious for hating each other - were having a face-off. It was drawing quite a bit of attention. Even this early in the morning. In the meantime, Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening? Why aren't you two playing?" Ron asked Harry and I. "And what's he doing here?"

He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes. "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team." I'd never heard Malfoy sound so smug. Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them," he continued.

The Gryffindor's glared at him. It was the first time that I'd seen Fred and George look bashful at an insult. The Slytherin team howled with laughter. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Hermione said sharply. I smiled at the echo of my words from earlier. "They got in on pure talent." The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

Leaning into him, I grinned. "Ah, see, it's not just me that thinks so," I said.

"Mind your manners like mummy and daddy taught you," Malfoy snapped at me. The comment was not received from Hermione as well as it had been from me. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

There were only two people that didn't immediately react. Harry looked completely lost. He probably knew that it was an insult. But it was one in the Wizarding World, not the Muggle world. Hermione looked stunned, but not so offended. I had a feeling that she didn't know just how nasty the insult he'd thrown at her was. I had never heard it used before, other than to simply explain what it meant. Mom and Dad had told me about it once and had demanded that I never say it, to anyone. There was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him.

"You asshole!" I howled, drawing attention from all over the grounds.

Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!"

Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.

We all jumped as Ron actually sent a spell at Malfoy. He would be in a ton of trouble, but so would Malfoy. That was the worst insult that someone could say to a Muggle-Born. To anyone, really. A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

I cringed, forgetting about the broken wand. "Ron!" I shrieked in a sudden panic, running after him.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Hermione squealed, running after him just as I had.

He was sitting up slightly, looking very dazed. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap. Hermione and I gasped and backed off. He had performed the same curse that he'd tried to perform the other day. The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindor's quickly gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.

Fred and George - who normally would have been beside themselves with laughter at their brother's misfortune - seemed very concerned with his well-being. "Is everything alright?" a voice called to me, very concerned.

It was Cedric, but for once, I completely ignored him. I was boiling with anger. So I straightened myself out, shoved Cedric and Oliver out of my way, and blew past Flint. "Hey, Malfoy!" I shouted.

Malfoy straightened up from his spot on the ground. He was still smiling. "What, Nox?" he asked me.

The people who had gathered around Ron were still worried about him, but every gaze had now turned to me. The Slytherin's were still shaking with laughter, but the Gryffindor's - and everyone else who had gathered around to see what had happened - had frozen. Malfoy grinned broadly at me, looking very proud of himself. I snarled. Every time that I thought that he might have been taking a step forward towards being a decent human being, he took a big step backwards. So I reared back and punched him straight in the eye, hoping that I would blind him. He fell backwards, the Slytherin team rushing to his rescue. I could already see a bruise on his eye as he straightened up.

Normally everyone would have laughed. But people were silent this time. "Just when I thought that you could stoop no lower," I hissed at Malfoy, ignoring Hermione's pleas for me to stop. "Calling someone a Mudblood? You deserved so much worse than that."

Turning back to the others, Cedric grabbed my arm and pushed me back to Harry, keeping me out of the way of Malfoy and the - very angry - Slytherin's. "Mr. Malfoy. Please bring yourself to Professor Snape. Head to the hospital wing afterwards. I believe your eye is bleeding. I'll be delivering this news to Professor Sprout as well. Your punishment will be in their hands," Cedric said, looking as furious as I'd ever seen him.

Malfoy stood, blood pouring from a cut above his eye. The edge of my Muggle watch had clipped his eyebrow, breaking the skin. "You'll pay for that one, Nox," he snarled at me.

"I'm sure," I said as the Slytherin team led him away. I turned back to Cedric, brushing back my hair. "Thank you."

Hermione was crying softly as I walked over to her, wrapping my arm around her. "Thank you..." she whispered to Cedric.

He looked very guilty over what had just happened. "You're both welcome." He then turned his gaze on Ron, as Ron threw up another slug. "That's a backfired spell, right there. I'm afraid you might have to wait it out," he offered.

"Thanks for trying," I told him, tightening my grip on Hermione before straightening up. "Go ahead. How many points?" I asked him.

As much as Malfoy had deserved what I'd done to him, I knew that fighting was still against the rules at Hogwarts. "None. You were well-within your rights to do that," Cedric told me. I smiled softly as he leaned down to Hermione. She was trying to brush the tears away, putting her focus on Ron. "Hermione, are you alright?" he asked her.

"Yes. Thank you," she said softly.

Cedric seemed to know that she wasn't much for talking right now. "Take him to Hagrid, he can at least make it a little more comfortable. Should be over in a little while," he told us. We all nodded, knowing that we had to get Ron somewhere quiet. "I've got to go and sort out some paperwork. You've got him?" he asked us.

I nodded at him. "We'll be fine. See you around. Thanks for that," I told him.

"Anytime."

With that, Cedric walked off, trying to clear the courtyard of onlookers. "Diggory's right. We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," Harry said to Hermione and I. She nodded bravely, and the three of us pulled Ron up by the arms. We were very careful to not get any slugs on us.

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Colin had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside us as we left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front. Harry, Hermione, and I cringed. "Oh," Colin said, fascinated and raising his camera. "Can you hold him still, Harry?"

"Move, Colin!" I howled.

As much as I did like Colin, now was not the time. "Get out of the way, Colin!" Harry yelled angrily.

That was all that it took. Fred and George threw Colin out of the way to allow us to pass with Ron. They seemed to want to take the time to try and calm down the other members of the team. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie seemed determined to go and finish what I had started. Oliver was beside himself, wanting to demand to have Malfoy thrown off of the team. And probably out of Hogwarts. In the meantime, the three of us supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest.

We were staggering the entire way there. Ron was heavier than he looked. Although, if we could carry Norbert all the way to the Astronomy tower, we could get Ron to the gamekeeper's cabin. "Nearly there, Ron. You'll be all right in a minute - almost there," Hermione was trying to assure him.

He said nothing, probably not wanting to risk vomiting slugs all over us. Which was definitely something that I appreciated. Mom and Dad would have a field day if I ruined yet another set of robes. We were within twenty feet of Hagrid's house when the front door opened, but it wasn't Hagrid who emerged. Gilderoy Lockhart, wearing robes of palest mauve today, came striding out. I groaned and halted in my tracks, the others following suit. Ron threw up another slug at the sudden movement.

"Not now!" I bit out.

"Quick, behind here," Harry hissed, dragging Ron behind a nearby bush.

Hermione was the only one that didn't move. I jumped out from behind the bush, grabbed her arm, and yanked her with me. "Get over here!" Hermione followed, somewhat reluctantly.

We were watching from behind the towering bush near the Forbidden Forest. "It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Lockhart was saying loudly to Hagrid. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one. I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye!"

From the grunting that could be heard inside the cabin, I assumed that Hagrid had probably not appreciated the more than likely unsolicited advice. Without a response from Hagrid, Lockhart strode away toward the castle. We waited until Lockhart was out of sight, then pulled Ron out of the bush and up to Hagrid's front door. We knocked urgently, not stopping until Hagrid had appeared. Thankfully he was fast. Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me - come in, come in - thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again."

He hadn't noticed what had happened yet. Harry, Hermione, and I supported Ron over the threshold into the one-roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner and a fire crackling merrily in the other. It took Hagrid a moment to see what had happened. Once he had, I'd almost thought that Hagrid would laugh, which probably wouldn't have gone over well. Hagrid didn't seem perturbed by Ron's slug problem, which Harry hastily explained as we lowered Ron into a chair.

"Better out than in," Hagrid said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of him. "Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," Hermione said anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin.

"That's what Cedric said," I added.

That comment seemed to draw Hagrid's attention. He glanced over at me and I blushed at his piercing gaze. Not that I had a reason to. "Diggory?" he asked me.

"Well - Yes," I admitted, unable to see a way out of this.

Hagrid nodded. "Good boy, he is."

I was very grateful when Hermione spoke again, ending any conversation about Cedric Diggory that might have amassed. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand," she said.

While Ron slumped over, Hagrid was bustling around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Harry. "What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, scratching Fang's ears.

Fang sat with Harry for a few seconds before moving off. I thought that he might simply lay his head in my lap, but I was dead wrong. Fang bounded over to me and launched himself into my lap. "Uh!" I groaned at the sudden weight. Fang began to slobber all over my lap as he laid himself over me. "Hello, Fang."

Smiling at the dog, I began petting his back. "Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," Hagrid growled, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

Harry and I both laughed. Hermione looked very put-off by the comment. She was still determined that Lockhart was actually a good teacher, no matter what disasters happened in his classes. He did frequently like to mention his accomplishments, although any question on them and we would be told to revert to a page in one of his books. My thoughts were still on Hagrid's comment though. He even liked Snape. It was most unlike Hagrid to criticize a Hogwarts teacher.

"He's an idiot," I said, referring to Hagrid.

Hagrid nodded at me. His gaze became very sharp and I wondered what I'd done wrong. "I heard 'bout everythin' that's happened with him and yeh. Yeh stay away from him, hear me? Had eyes fer yer Mum, he did," Hagrid told me.

It only made one more person that was determined to keep me away from Lockhart. "I know," I said.

"Yeh three keep an eye on her," Hagrid warned the others.

"We are," Harry quickly put in.

Hermione, however, said in a voice somewhat higher than usual, "I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job -"

"He was the on'y man for the job," Hagrid spoke over her, offering us a plate of treacle toffee, while Ron coughed into his basin. I groaned as a rather large slug came up. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now."

"I knew there was a reason that Dumbledore hired him!" I said excitedly.

Despite the trouble that Hermione had just been through with Malfoy, I shot Hermione a prideful smirk. She merely rolled her eyes at me. "That explains a lot," Harry muttered.

We were only silent for a few seconds. "So tell me. Who was he tryin' ter curse?" Hagrid asked, jerking his head towards Ron.

"Malfoy called Hermione something - it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild," Harry said.

Hagrid didn't seem to understand. Harry and Hermione clearly didn't know what it meant. "Think the worst Muggle insult that you could. It's worse than that," I explained to them both, not really wanting to go more into detail.

"It was bad," Ron said hoarsely, surprising me slightly, as he emerged over the tabletop looking pale and sweaty. "Malfoy called her 'Mudblood,' Hagrid -" Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance.

As I looked away from Ron, Hagrid looked outraged. "He didn'!" he growled at Hermione.

"He did. But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course -"

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," Ron gasped, coming back up. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born - you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards - like Malfoy's family - who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call Pureblood."

"But not all Pureblood's are bad," I put in quickly, not wanting Hermione to become offended with the idea of us. "The Weasley's, Longbottom's... Nox's," I said. She smiled at me and nodded. "Mudblood essentially means dirty blood. Creature of dirt," I explained. Hermione cringed and I swore that I heard her sniffle. "Sorry, Hermione," I said quickly.

Hermione shook her head. "It's alright."

In the meantime Ron gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued, "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom - he's Pureblood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"Yet he has a better mark in Herbology than you do," I commented dryly.

The glare on Ron's face told me that he did not appreciate my comment. But he threw up another slug before he got the chance to retaliate. "An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," Hagrid said proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.

We all smiled at her. "It's a disgusting thing to call someone," Ron said, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. "Like Tara said. Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are Half-Blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd have died out." He retched and ducked out of sight again.

"He's right. In England there are only twenty-nine truly Pureblooded families anymore. Hence, Sacred Twenty-Nine," I explained.

Nearly ninety percent of the Wizarding World were Half-Blood's. "Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," Hagrid said loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

He was right about that. And we all knew that Lucius Malfoy was a powerful figure. If he wanted someone in trouble, trouble they would be in. "Cedric Diggory came and ordered Malfoy to Professor Snape to explain what had happened and leave the punishment with him. He said he'd relay it to Professor Sprout as well... Just to ensure that he found out," Hermione explained.

"Did he?" Hagrid asked.

"He's got eyes for Tara," Harry said, making Hagrid smile and myself blush furiously. Hermione smiled as well. "He'll come to her - or her friends' - rescue any day."

"Shut up," I snapped at Harry, who grinned back at me.

"Good man," Hagrid said.

It seemed that the adults (embarrassingly enough, many seemed to know about my crush) were all for Cedric. The kids - Harry and Ron in particular - were not fond of him. Probably simply because he liked me and they all thought that I was too young. I took a small piece of a treacle toffee to try and distract myself from having to talk about Cedric. It was a conversation that I liked to avoid as much as possible. Mostly because everyone knew about the crush, and they knew the exact ways to embarrass me about it. Although I quickly regretted this decision; Hagrid's treacle toffee had cemented my jaws together.

"Harry," Hagrid said abruptly as though struck by a sudden thought. "Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

A loud barking laugh escaped my mouth. Harry glared at me. "I have not been giving out signed photos," he said hotly. "If Lockhart's still spreading that around -" He trailed off as he realized that Hagrid was laughing.

Hagrid smiled and started chuckling. "I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting Harry genially on the back and sending him face first into the table. I gasped and yanked Harry back up, glad to see that he wasn't bleeding and had no sign of a bruise. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

We all laughed at that. "Bet he didn't like that," Harry said, sitting up and rubbing his chin.

"Don' think he did. An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go." I barked madly with laughter. That was why Hagrid was one of my favorite adults here. "Treacle toffee, Ron?" he added as Ron reappeared.

"No thanks. Better not risk it," Ron said.

Hagrid nodded and looked over at me. "Told him teh stay away from Miss Tara, too. Told him tha' Marcus Nox wouldn' like knowin' that his daughter's bin gettin' eyes from a teacher," he said.

"Thank you, Hagrid."

Of course, if Lockhart had any brains at all he would know to stay away from me. There were far too many people that were looking out for me. "Can't promise it'll do anythin', but it migh'." I nodded appreciatively anyways. "Come an' see what I've bin growin'," Hagrid said.

Harry, Hermione, and I finished the last of our tea. I was the only one that took lemon in mine. Harry and Hermione both said that it was too bitter. I ignored them. Ron had opted not to have anything to drink, probably not wanting to risk it tasting like slugs. Definitely couldn't blame him for that. Once we were done we headed back into the garden. In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins I had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder.

Hagrid seemed very proud of his pumpkins. They were huge. Much larger than any natural ones. "Gettin' on well, aren't they? Fer the Halloween feast... should be big enough by then," he said.

"They look good," I said.

Hagrid grinned at me, puffing his chest out slightly. I had to turn away for a moment to keep myself from laughing. "Thank yeh," Hagrid told me.

"What have you been feeding them?" Harry asked.

I rolled my eyes at him. There was no way that these pumpkins were as large as they were just by some love and nurturing. Hagrid had done something to them. Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check that we were alone. "Well, I've bin givin' them - you know - a bit o' help," he said nervously.

Of course. Looking over at him, I noticed Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of the cabin. Just as I had thought. When we'd gone to Ollivander's last year to get our own wands, he had asked Hagrid about getting his wand snapped. Hagrid had mentioned that he'd kept the pieces. But he had grasped the pink umbrella tightly when Ollivander had scolded Hagrid that he was not supposed to be using them. He must have been keeping the pieces inside it so that he could do magic from time to time. Hagrid wasn't supposed to use magic. He had been expelled from Hogwarts in his Third Year, as he'd told Harry and I when we'd met him. But we had never found out why - any mention of the matter and Hagrid would clear his throat loudly and become mysteriously deaf until the subject was changed.

"I doubt that Dumbledore would mind," I told Hagrid honestly.

In fact, I was sure that Dumbledore actually knew that Hagrid's wand was in the umbrella. I doubted that there was much that got past the old wizard. "Still best not ter say anythin'," Hagrid said.

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" Hermione asked. Hagrid smiled proudly at her. She was halfway between disapproval and amusement, probably because she appreciated a correctly done spell. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said," Hagrid said, nodding at Ron. "Met her jus' yesterday." Hagrid looked sideways at Harry, his beard twitching in amusement. "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." He winked at Harry. "If yeh ask me, she wouldn' say no ter a signed -"

"Oh, shut up," Harry said.

It didn't seem that Hermione was amused by the comment, but I laughed loudly. And it wasn't just me. Ron snorted with laughter and the ground was sprayed with slugs. "Watch it!" Hagrid roared, pulling Ron away from his precious pumpkins.

My laughter only increased tenfold. "Alright, you gotta admit, that's pretty funny," I told Ron, trying to stop laughing.

Ron only groaned and knocked me away from him. "Shut up, Tara."

It was nearly lunchtime as we walked through the rest of the garden. Hagrid had found his Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent and it had worked like a charm. Literally. My stomach eventually began to growl, Harry's not far behind mine, since I had only had a bit of toast and one treacle toffee since dawn. I knew that we were both keen to go back to school to eat. So we said goodbye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle, Ron hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two very small slugs. The curse that had backfired seemed to be ending.

Like Cedric and Hermione had both said, it was just waiting it out. It really was too bad it hadn't happened to Malfoy. I could only imagine that the trails that the slugs left would match their ugly robes. And I would have loved to hear about Parkinson getting a slug on her head. We had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out.

"There you are, Potter - Weasley - Nox." I groaned and turned back. Professor McGonagall was walking toward us, looking stern. I had really been hoping that she would forget about the detention. But - just like last year after the Norbert debacle - she had remembered. "You will all be doing your detentions this evening."

We all nodded at her. "What're we doing, Professor?" Ron asked, nervously suppressing a burp.

No part of me wanted to have to explain to Professor McGonagall why Ron was throwing up slugs. "You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," she told Ron. Harry and I exchanged a look. Were we all doing something different? Damn. "And no magic, Weasley. Elbow grease." Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school.

He had a particular affinity for fondly remembering the days of torture whenever he watched over a detention. It was the main reason that I always prayed that whenever I got a detention, it would not be with him. "And you two, Potter, Nox, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," Professor McGonagall told us.

My heart sank into my stomach. I noticed Harry's body deflate and Ron stiffen. I couldn't find my voice to try and debate it. "Oh no - Professor, can't we go and do the trophy room, too?" Harry asked desperately.

"Certainly not," Professor McGonagall said, raising her eyebrows in surprise at Harry's request. "Professor Lockhart requested you two particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, all of you."

Moving forward before she could stalk off, I began to plead my case and potentially make things much worse. "Professor, please, there's an... odd history with my mother and Professor Lockhart." Professor McGonagall's eyebrows rose to her forehead. "I'll take three detentions with Professor Snape. Please. Just don't send me to Professor Lockhart."

She looked shocked that I had actually said that I would rather have three detentions with Snape. They were notoriously hard work. She did seem slightly sympathetic, but I could tell that she wouldn't bend on this one. "You're perfectly safe with a Hogwarts professor, Nox. Potter will be with you anyhow. Eight o'clock," she said.

"But -"

"Should I tack on another with Professor Lockhart?" she asked me sternly.

"No ma'am," I said quickly.

That was the absolute last thing that I wanted. Together, Harry, Ron, and I slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom the moment that Professor McGonagall had stalked off. I groaned to myself and marched towards the table. Hermione was right behind us, wearing a well-you-did-break-school-rules sort of expression. The only thing that made me feel any better was that Malfoy was at the Slytherin table with a nice black eye. He sneered at me and immediately shot from the Great Hall, probably back towards the Slytherin Common Room. I noticed Hermione give me a grateful smile.

But we were not left in peace for very long. Following Malfoy out of the Great Hall was Pansy Parkinson. She stopped right behind me and I sighed, turning back to her. "What, Parkinson?" I asked.

"Think you're funny, do you?" she snapped at me.

"Actually I think that I'm hilarious," I responded.

The Great Hall was so loud that her comment had gone mostly unnoticed. It wasn't uncommon to see Parkinson storm up to me, angry for something that I'd said or done. "You'll pay for what you did to him," she said.

Whipping around to her with an angry glare, I noticed her step back slightly. "Go ahead, Parkinson, make your move," I barked at her. It drew some attention from the Gryffindor table. Parkinson did not move. "What's the matter? Lose your nerve with all of the teachers watching you?" I asked her. There were a few professors that were watching the tense exchange. "Or maybe you don't know which spell to use," I teased.

The grin on my face never faded as Parkinson flushed a soft pink. She stormed off without another word to me. I was sure that she would try to attack me later, but I couldn't really care. I'd manage whatever she threw at me. I did hear a few nasty curses thrown my way as she stormed off. Even with everything that had happened with Parkinson, and the black eye that I'd given Malfoy, I didn't enjoy his shepherd's pie as much as I had thought that I would. Ron, Harry, and I all felt they we had all gotten the worse deal. But I knew that I could have gotten off worse. I could have been alone with Lockhart.

A few minutes later, Ron sighed. "Filch will have me there all night. No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning," Ron said heavily.

Harry spoke before I could snap at Ron that he had it easy. He probably knew that I had nothing nice to say. "I'd swap anytime. I've had loads of practice with the Dursley's. Answering Lockhart's fan mail... He'll be a nightmare..." Harry said hollowly.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore. "Excuse you both, Lockhart has a crush on my mother!" I shouted. It drew some attention from the other tables and I dropped my head, not wanting to draw any more attention. "And now he's got... me," I muttered.

"He's a teacher, Tara, he won't do anything to you," Hermione argued.

Turning over to her, I grabbed the copy of Year with a Yeti and slammed it closed. She did not look happy with me for doing so. "You have got to get over your crush on him," I told her.

She blushed furiously. "I do not have -"

"Yes you do," Ron, Harry, and I said at the same time.

After our comment, Hermione didn't seem to want to talk to us anymore. She opened her book - leaning over towards where Ginny was sitting - and began reading it once more. I rolled my eyes and looked away from her. I was debating on doing some work, but I didn't have anything with me. So I simply sat and picked at the shepherd's pie. It wasn't long before we all decided to leave and go back to the Common Room. At least I could sit in front of the fireplace and enjoy the warmth. There was definitely a good chill running through the Great Hall. We all gathered our things and stood to leave. I didn't make it very far before running smack into Cedric. I smiled weakly at him.

Harry rolled his eyes, but said nothing, considering the help that Cedric had come to our aid earlier today. "See you in the Common Room," Harry told me. I smiled at him, grateful that they weren't going to hang around.

"How are you feeling, Ron?" Cedric asked.

Ron looked very bothered to have to say something to him. "Better... Thanks..." he muttered before dragging Harry off with him. Hermione rolled her eyes and patted me on the arm before heading after them.

Cedric watched them walk away with a somewhat amused smile. He turned back to me and motioned for me to follow him. I did and we walked right out towards the entrance hall. "I don't think that your friends like me very much," he said as we walked.

"It's not you," I insisted. He raised his brow at me. "It's just that..." I trailed off when I realized that the proper explanation was that they didn't like him because I had a crush on him. "Never mind. Don't mind them, they're weird," I said quickly.

Cedric laughed at my suddenly very tense stance. "That's alright," he said as we continued to walk through the halls. "You all doing alright?"

"Fine. Hope Malfoy's got some serious brain damage," I snarled.

Even though we'd let it go - mostly so that Hermione wouldn't dwell on it - I was still furious that he had dared to call her a Mudblood. Cedric's mouth twitched in anger. "He does not, although I think Madam Pomfrey intends to leave his black eye the way that it is. She found out what he said. She won't be fixing that anytime soon," he said.

I laughed, remembering how angry he'd looked in the Great Hall with a bruise over his eye. "Good," I said.

Cedric smiled at me. He placed an arm behind my back and led me up a back staircase. "Professor Snape gave him two nights detention for it and thirty points from Slytherin," he told me.

"Really?" I asked, feeling very surprised. I would have thought that Snape would have taken a few points away. He loved Malfoy. I would have thought that he'd push it off to kids being kids or something like that. "I can't believe that Snape actually took that much from him."

"As awful as he can be, I'd never seen him so angry for hearing that Malfoy called someone that," Cedric said.

I nodded absentmindedly, wondering why Snape had been so upset. He hated Hermione just as much as Malfoy did. Evidently not quite as much. "Well... I suppose I could thank him for that. Thank you for coming to my rescue. Well, not really mine, theirs," I corrected myself.

He grinned. "Always."

My stomach gave a little flip as we turned a corner. I jumped in surprise when Colin was standing right there, messing with his camera. "H - Hi, Tara," he stuttered, smiling at me.

"Hello, Colin. How are you?" I asked.

"Good. How's Ron?"

"Better."

His gaze finally turned and he seemed to realize that Cedric had been standing with me. Cedric, who was an entire foot taller than Colin and twice as wide. He gave Colin a little smile and I saw the younger boy pale. "I - I'll be off. See you!" Colin said to me awkwardly before running off.

Was it because he had been embarrassed over me, or had Cedric intimidated him? Cedric chuckled as we continued to climb the stairs. "So I hear that Harry's giving out signed photos?" he asked me.

Snorting under my breath, I shook my head. "Don't let him hear you say that," I warned.

Cedric laughed right along with me. "I'm just kidding," he said. "I've seen how horrified he is whenever Creevey brings it up." We walked in silence for a while longer before Cedric turned to me with a little smile. I raised a brow at the look on his face. "So... If I ask Creevey for one of his many pictures of you, will you sign it?"

"Stop," I said, shoving into him.

He laughed at me as we turned down one of the many hallways in the upper turrets of Hogwarts. "If Creevey gets a signed photo, I want one," he continued.

"Shut up," I snapped through my laughter.

My face was burning with embarrassment as I glanced down at the ground. He was just joking. I had to keep remembering that. "So what are you doing for the afternoon?" he asked me after a moment.

I sighed as we walked past one of the windows. You couldn't see Hogsmeade village from here, but I knew that we were close. And I knew that there was another year until we could go. "Wishing that I could go to Hogsmeade," I mumbled.

Sometimes the weekends did get a little boring in the beginning of the year, with barely any work and no classes to keep our attention. "You'll get to go in at some point next year. I could show you my favorite places," he offered. My head snapped over to him and I saw that he was running his fingers through his hair awkwardly.

Had he just asked me on a date next year? A whole year away... Or was he just offering as a friend? The moment that I wished that I was a Legilimens... "Ah. You say that to all the girls?" I asked teasingly, not wanting to make him feel any more awkward.

Cedric smiled at me. "Only the special ones," he said.

My cheeks burned furiously, the heat spreading over my neck and chest. It was plural, you idiot, you aren't the only one that he's offered that to. "I'm actually finally serving that detention that we got for flying the car into the Whomping Willow," I said, trying to distract the conversation.

Cedric laughed and shook his head at me. "I've never heard someone so nonchalant about flying a car into a Whomping Willow," he said.

"We had it handled," I retorted.

Yes, it was brilliant the way that the car threw you onto your ass after the Whomping Willow attempted to kill you. "I'm sure," Cedric said disbelievingly. I scowled at him. "No one can ever manage to get themselves into disasters quite as quickly as you four." I smiled guiltily at him. "McGonagall give you the detention?"

"Yes," I said with a small scowl, "but Lockhart personally requested that I serve it with him."

"You're not going alone, are you?" he asked sharply.

I shook my head at him, almost smiling at the protective way that he said it. "No, no. Ron has to go polish the trophies in the trophy room, but Lockhart requested that Harry be there with me," I told him. Cedric relaxed slightly, probably glad that it wouldn't be just the two of us. "He's already agreed to keep me away from him."

"Good."

The two of us walked in silence through the rest of the pathways. The further upstairs that we got, the less people that we ran into. We did pass Cho Chang near one of the turrets. I could only assume that the Ravenclaw Common Room wasn't too far from where we were. Either that, or she had just been up in the Owlery. She had glared at me before stopping to chat with Cedric for a few minutes. I was very glad that he politely brushed her off, telling her that he would see her later. It was very hard to suppress a laugh. We had eventually made our way all the way to the top turret of the school, popping out in the Astronomy tower.

It was the one place that anyone could find me after a stressful day. I'd always found it peaceful up here. "Should have figured that this would be where we were going," I said softly.

Cedric smiled at me as we took a seat near the open railing that dropped all the way to the courtyard below. Kids were running all over the place below us. No one ever came up here. It was forbidden to be here except for classes. Not that it meant anything to me. "This is where you like to go whenever you're upset or irritated about something," Cedric said. I smiled, having not known that he really understood that about me. "It's a good place to go and clear your head. Figured it'd be good to head here before a detention with Lockhart."

"You were right," I said softly. I sat near the opening, Cedric right next to me. "The weather is perfect."

And it really was. There was a slight chill in the air, but my Quidditch robes were long enough to keep me warm. And now that the sun was up, it was beating down on me. It felt good. It reminded me of the long Florida summers back in the States. The two of us sat together for a long time, talking and laughing. I had a slight feeling that someone was going to catch us and give me another detention from how loud we were being, but no one ever did. It was a long time before our conversation slowed, my head lolling back against the stone wall.

"You alright?" Cedric asked.

The sun was starting to sink, the sky remaining was a brilliant orange. "Wonderful. Oliver wanted us to wake up at four this morning just to give us a three hour talk about new Quidditch moves," I said.

Cedric laughed. "Sounds like you've had an eventful first week," he told me.

It was my turn to laugh. "Not so sure that eventful would be the right word for it," I said.

We both laughed at that one. My first week had been one for the books. I'd been blocked off from coming to Hogwarts, illegally flown a flying car and been spotted by Muggles, crashed into the Whomping Willow, earned a name for myself with Gilderoy Lockhart, and punched Malfoy in the face. His first week had been much less eventful. It was around dinnertime - neither of us were hungry - when I finally couldn't stay awake anymore. I began nodding off, despite not wanting to seem rude to Cedric, my head leaning back against the stone wall, and was out like a light a moment later.

It didn't feel like that much longer when I felt my shoulder being shaken. Cedric's Care of Magical Creatures book was open on his shins. He must have been reading it while I was taking a nap. It was nice of him to not just leave me here to my own devices. But why was the book seated almost in front of me? It was right then that I realized that I must have shifted while I was asleep. My head was tucked right underneath Cedric's chin, on top of his chest. Immediately my entire body began to burn with embarrassment. I was leaning into him, my body tucked into his side. His arm was looped around me.

"Tara... Tara..." he muttered. I slowly looked up at him, ashamed at myself. He didn't seem bothered. He was smiling at me. "Hate to wake you up, Sleeping Beauty, but it's a little after seven. You should probably head to your detention soon," he said.

Disentangling myself from him, I tried to avoid his gaze. I helped him gather his things before turning to leave the tower. As we walked downstairs I glanced at him, wanting to lighten the mood. "How much trouble do you think that I'd get in for skipping it?" I asked.

He laughed at me. "A lot." And he was right about that. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah."

I turned to head back to the Common Room when I was stopped by his voice once more. "Did you know that you drool in your sleep?" he asked. I whipped back around to him and saw that he was smiling brightly. My hand shot up to my mouth. I had never been so mortified. "Don't worry, it's cute," he added.

"I am so sorry," I told him.

He waved me off. "I do, too," he admitted. We both laughed and I smiled, feeling a little bit better about myself. "You're more than welcome to fall asleep on me whenever you'd like."

Once more, my face burned. I smiled at him and said goodbye, promising that I would see him again soon. I walked through the portrait hole, smiling at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were sprawled out on the couches. "Where have you been all day?" Harry asked sharply.

Laughing loudly, I ignored Harry and went upstairs to get changed. I slid my robes off as Hermione came upstairs with me. We invited Ginny to come into the dorm room, too, recounting to her everything that had happened, and ending with my afternoon with Cedric. Even the embarrassing end. Ginny had squealed, saying that there was no way that he didn't like me. To my shock, Hermione had actually agreed. The three of us had eventually headed back downstairs where Harry and Ron were still complaining about detention. Although I thought that I might have heard 'Pretty-Boy Diggory' thrown in once or twice. And finally our last hour of freedom seemed to melt away.

There was no more time that we could spare. Harry, Ron, and I had to leave, letting Ginny and Hermione enjoy their time together in the Common Room. In the meantime, we headed downstairs. Harry and I said goodbye at the entrance to the trophy room and we continued down the hall, ignoring Peeves, who looked quite excited to see how downtrodden we were. It was five minutes to eight, as Harry and I were dragging our feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office.

"I can't believe that we have to do this," I muttered to him.

Harry seemed as much in despair as I was. "You sit on my other side, away from Lockhart," he told me.

"Thanks."

We were just outside of the entrance to Lockhart's office when Harry stopped me, keeping his voice low. "You gonna be alright?" he asked me.

"I can deal with one irritating professor," I said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "This is way beyond irritating," he said.

And he was right about that. We nodded at each other before moving begrudgingly forward. As much as we wanted to run off and ignore the detention, we knew that things would only become worse. So we gritted our teeth, moved forward to the door, and knocked. The door flew open at once. I nearly jumped back, having been expecting the answer to have at least taken a few seconds. Lockhart beamed down at the two of us. He looked even more annoying today than he normally did. Maybe I was biased.

"Ah, here's the scalawags!" he cheered brightly. Harry and I exchanged a bored glance. "Come in, Harry, Tara, come in."

He motioned us forward and we stepped in. His office looked more like a post office than it did an actual office. I'd been in Professor Quirrell's office a few times - something that still unnerved me to this day - and his had always seemed so normal. A few animals and plants in jars, test papers scattered everywhere, and some personal artifacts and books that were lined up on the shelves. Lockhart's office was quite different. Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart. He had even signed a few of them. Another large pile lay on his desk.

How was he even a real human being? He couldn't have been. There was no one that was really that self-centered. "You two can address the envelopes!" Lockhart told Harry and I, as though this was a huge treat.

"Lucky us," I hissed before I could stop myself.

Harry grinned; so did Lockhart. He didn't seem to understand that my comment had been sarcastic. "Aren't you?" Lockhart chirped back to me.

"Couldn't imagine a better way to torture us for detention," I said.

That time he did see the insult. He turned back to me and smiled. "Funny, funny, girl," Lockhart said. He led us over to his desk and showed us two chairs. One was right next to him, the other next to that one. Harry shoved me into the furthest one before Lockhart could say anything. Lockhart brandished the first letter and showed it to us. "This first one's to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her - huge fan of mine."

All I could imagine was that, somewhere in this massive pile of letters, was one from Mrs. Weasley. The thought made me smile. Harry didn't seem to understand what I could possibly find amusing at a time like this. Although my amusement over Mrs. Weasley's letter quickly died down. Lockhart seemed to want us to read them, but I didn't. I merely poorly copied Lockhart's signature and jammed the photos into the return address. The minutes snailed by. It felt like this detention would never end. At least the one where we'd run into Voldemort had been fun in the beginning... I let Lockhart's voice wash over me, ignoring him and only grunting something when he would stop speaking.

Most of the time it sounded like Lockhart was either trying to tell Harry about what life was like being a celebrity, or saying something about the massive amounts of boys that were also outside of Hogwarts that I would need to look at. His comments had led to two snapped quills on my part. Lockhart laughed and said that I was getting too enthusiastic. He didn't seem to understand that after hearing that he thought that I was leading on Harry, Ron, Colin, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Oliver, Cedric, Fred, George, and Malfoy that I was very frustrated with him. I was absolutely positive that Harry was going to smash Lockhart over the head with the ink bottle.

More than anything I wished that I had a set of Muggle headphones to drown him out. "Your mother will probably think this is all wonderful, her daughter in a detention with her old friend," Lockhart said.

"Doubt she cares. It's date night with Dad," I muttered.

In all actuality, no part of what I'd said was the truth. I knew that she cared very much about every time that I got a detention. I would always get a question about what had happened and who the detention was with. If she knew that I was having a detention with Gilderoy Lockhart, she would be beside herself. And as for the date night, they never had date nights. Any time that they went out, they always took me with them. They didn't need a date night. They essentially had date nights every night that I was gone while I was here at Hogwarts. But that comment had the exact effect that I'd been hoping for.

Lockhart went pink in the face. "Yes... Well..." he trailed off. I heard Harry laugh next to me. "Ah, Jean Warbeck," Lockhart suddenly seemed very interested in a letter sitting off to the side, "a huge fan. Related to Celestina Warbeck, did you know?" Harry and I both grunted, tuning him out once more.

The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the many moving faces of Lockhart watching us. I hadn't brought my Muggle watch. How had I been so stupid? I wanted to know what time it was. I wanted to know just how long this stupid detention was. We had to have been here for hours. If I'd been a little hungrier I would have thought that we'd been here for weeks. I moved my aching hand over what felt like the thousandth envelope. I was probably getting quite a few of the addresses wrong. I was probably spelling their names - and his - wrong, too. It had started as a joke. But now I couldn't really bring myself to care.

Lockhart had thankfully stopped speaking a long time ago. He was very focused on writing an actual letter back to one of his fans. But something that was definitely not Lockhart's haughty voice made every muscle in my body tense. Because I had heard something - something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candles and Lockhart's continuing prattle about his fans. It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.

"Come... come to me... Let me rip you... Let me tear you... Let me kill you..."

I jumped farther than I had in the haunted house Mom and Dad had brought me to a few years ago. "What?" Harry asked loudly.

"Ah!" I yelled in horror. Knocking my knee on the bottom of the table, I managed to spill the bottle of ink all over a few sheets of blank parchment.

"I know! Six solid months at the top of the best-seller list! Broke all records!" Lockhart cheered.

Harry and I exchanged a horrified look. He'd heard it. So why hadn't Lockhart? "No. That voice!" Harry said frantically.

"Sorry?" Lockhart asked, looking puzzled. "What voice? Are you two alright?"

The two of us were breathing very quickly, wondering what had just said that. "There was a voice... An angry voice..." I muttered. Lockhart looked stunned as Harry looked slightly relieved. "You heard it, too?" I asked him.

Harry nodded at me. "Yes." He then turned to Lockhart. "That - that voice that said - didn't you hear it?"

Lockhart was looking at Harry and I in high astonishment. "What are you talking about, Harry, Tara? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy?" There was no way that I'd heard that just because I was a little drowsy. That had been real. And it had seemed so close. "Great Scott - look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! I'd never have believed it - the time's flown, hasn't it?" he asked us.

For a long time, Harry and I stayed silent. Partially because I didn't want to have to talk to Lockhart anymore and partially because I was trying to hear something... Anything... I had to block out his prattle about how keeping up with all of those Hogwarts boys was making me exhausted. I sat in my chair and strained my ears to hear the voice again. I wanted to hear the voice, to be able to tell if I'd ever heard it before, or if I could pick out where it had come from. But it was long gone. There was no sound now except for Lockhart telling us that we mustn't expect a treat like this every time we got detention.

Feeling very dazed, Harry and I left. It was already after midnight, and I wanted to sprint back to Gryffindor tower. No part of me wanted to meet the owner of the voice. "You heard it?" I asked him weakly.

Harry nodded at me, looking just as bothered by the voice was I was. "Yes. What'd it say?" he asked me. "Let me..."

"Let me rip you. Let me kill you," I said, remembering the voice perfectly. It felt like I'd been plunged into ice-cold water. It made the Sorcerer's Stone seem like child's play. "What the hell, Harry?"

"I don't know. But I'm glad that you heard it, too. Come on. We should tell Ron and Hermione," he said.

Nodding at him, the two of us sped up slightly. Neither one of us wanted to be caught in the dark corridors by the owner of the voice. The voice that I knew would be haunting my nightmares. And just when I'd started to sleep normally again... We got back to the Gryffindor tower quickly. It was so late that the Common Room was almost empty. Harry and I went straight up to the dormitories. I told him to head back down after he got changed, letting him know that I would grab Hermione. It seemed that Ron wasn't back yet. I pulled on my pajamas - trying not to wake up Parvati, Fay, and Lavender - and moved over to Hermione's sleeping form.

Keeping my voice low, I nudged her shoulder. "Hermione. Wake up," I whispered.

She whined at me and shoved her head into the pillows. "I am not on your Quidditch team. Wake me up later," she hissed at me.

"Please, Mione, it's important," I begged.

She shot upright, nearly knocking heads with me. Hermione looked wide-awake by now. She knew that the desperation in my voice meant that something bad had happened. "Alright. Come on," she said. She sprung from her bed and ran downstairs with me. Harry was in his pajamas and sitting on one of the couches. "What's happened?"

"We're waiting for Ron. We'll tell you both together," I told her.

She nodded at me and took a spot on the couch. It was a few minutes before the Common Room emptied completely. I was glad. I really didn't want to explain the mystery voice to anyone else. They thought that Harry and I were crazy enough. Hermione seemed very concerned for our well-being. It didn't help that Harry and I were twitching nervously at every creak and whistle of the wind through the rafters of the castle. After nearly half an hour, Ron came in. He smelled very strongly of polish.

Ron immediately started complaining. "My muscles have all seized up. Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch Cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to get the slime off... How was it with Lockhart?" he asked us.

Ron seemed a little surprised to see that Hermione was down here, too. She was the one of us that always went to bed early. It was rare to find her awake after midnight. Unless she was studying, that is. Keeping our voices low so as not to alert anyone that we were talking about something that could be very dangerous, Harry and I told Ron and Hermione exactly what we had heard.

They were both silent for a long time. We had been hoping for a normal year. Clearly we were not going to get one. "And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" Ron asked. We both nodded. I could see him frowning in the moonlight. "D'you think he was lying? But I don't get it - even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"I know. I don't get it either," Harry said, leaning back on the couch.

Hermione finally spoke. "But you both heard it?" she asked.

"Yes," we said together.

Hermione seemed to think on that for a long time. "You're sure that you weren't just dozing off?" she asked.

Angrily, I snapped at her. "Yes. How would we have heard the exact same thing at the exact same time in our imaginations?" I asked. She said nothing in response. "It was there, Hermione. It was almost like it was echoing through the castle. Far away. Sounded a lot like hissing."

Hermione was obviously trying to reason why this had happened. "No one else heard it," she said.

"I know."

And that was what made the whole thing so unnerving. We heard something like that, and no one else had. "You haven't heard it since?" Hermione asked us.

"No," we said together again.

Both Ron and Hermione were nodding at us. Unfortunately, there was really nothing that we could do since we hadn't heard the voice again. The only thing that we could do was sit and wait. "We should wait to see if you both hear it again. In the meantime, Hogwarts is safe. Probably the safest place to be with Dumbledore here," Hermione said.

Maybe that was the truth. But what if Dumbledore couldn't hear it either? What if Harry and I were the only ones? "She's right. The biggest menace here is Lockhart," Ron put in.

But there was something in my mind that told me that Lockhart was not the worst thing in this school. It seemed that Harry agreed with me. That voice... The low and chilling way that it spoke. Almost like it wasn't even human. As I walked back up to the dorm, I couldn't help but to remember the warning that Dobby had given us. Terrible things were going to happen at Hogwarts this year. What if it wasn't just a prank from Malfoy? After all, he hadn't seemed to know what Ron was talking about when he'd asked if Malfoy was surprised to see Harry in Flourish and Blotts last month. Cedric was right. Here we were, barely a week into the year, already in the middle of a disaster.

A/N: Next time... Tara and the others attend their first Deathday Party, and an eerie message appears on the walls, beginning a new year of horrors for the Quartet. Like I said before, I'm having lots of fun writing this story so the updates are coming fast. It's definitely the easiest story to write. Thanks for the follows and favorites! Please review! I really love them. Until next time -A

Grin like the Cheshire Cat: Can't promise about what's going to happen to Cedric down the line! I haven't actually figured it out myself. I adore Cedric, he's become one of my favorite characters. Glad that you're liking the story!

god of all: Thank you! I hope this update was soon enough :)