A/N: Standard disclaimer. See chapter 1 for details.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Look at my face or the ballroom, not the floor!"

"But I don't want to step on your toes," he whined.

"After four weeks of dance lessons, you're not going to step on my toes. Besides, I placed a cushioning charm on them."

"Not that confident, are you?" He finally brought his eyes to her face. "You know, I said it earlier, but you look really nice, Hermione."

"Clean up well, do I?" she asked drily.

"Well, no, I mean, you're always pretty, but tonight–wow!"

"Much better." She squeezed his hand. "Of course, our former friend doesn't seem to agree with that."

"Just because the git didn't recognize you and congratulated me for 'dumping the bookworm' was no reason to hex his, uh, equipment."

"I disagree, but it wasn't intentional. I knew I was getting better at silent casting, but I didn't know I could do magic wandlessly."

"All that special meditation that Professor Tek recommended has its benefits. Mine is finally coming along so well that if I wasn't going to be stressed out about being underwater, I might be tempted to leave my wand behind and not risk losing it during the next event."

"Don't push yourself. Mlle Claire will make sure that it is firmly strapped to your arm. You've been doing well practising our first year spells that way, so I'm sure you'll have mastered the cutting charm by February." She giggled, "When you slice through the ropes or whatever is anchoring us to the lake bed, it will almost look like you're using a switchblade knife."

He nodded. "I sorta like the gangster image there."

"Rest assured that there will be target practice in the hot tub so you can adjust for differences under water. I'd like to come back in one piece."

"You and me both," he agreed. "It was sneaky of her to convince Professor Tek that we needed it for our lessons."

"Sore and strained muscles should be taken care of immediately," she lectured before sighing, "but it is fun to sit in the spa, drinking hot chocolate."

"Or cold butterbeer. You know, even though it's a Muggle invention, I bet they could modify it to work here. And they ought to have at least one in each House, since Quidditch is such a dangerous sport."

"I'm glad you finally admit it, but," she shook her head, "the upperclassmen would get up to too much hanky-panky at night. Although I heard from Cho that they have something even better in the Prefect's Bath."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you don't think prefects get up to hanky-panky?"

"Well, one assumes they would be more responsible…"

"Sorry you won't be here next year to check it out first-hand?" he teased.

"Hardly! Do you know that at the latitude we're moving to, some people have outdoor swimming pools open year-round?"

"I'll be glad to bid these Scottish winters goodbye." Harry shuddered and jerked his head towards the glass wall. "I'd offer to take you for a walk down those decorated paths, but going outside dressed as we are doesn't sound very comfortable."

"Despite the snow, I'm sure there are heating charms aplenty. Besides, we aren't here on a romantic date. You made that perfectly clear," she muttered in an aside.

"About that," he hesitated, "I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just that with everything else happening, I stuck my foot in my mouth. All the way to my knee. I mean, any guy in here would be proud to have you on his arm."

"Except maybe Ron or Malfoy."

"Well, after the way you made him limp away, you're right on Ron. But Malfoy–he almost tripped over Pansy's dress, turning to look at you."

"Tough on both of them," she quipped. "I'm happy to be here with you," she stood on tiptoe and kissed his nose without missing a beat, "even if we were given no choice in the matter."

"Well," he blushed, "if I'd taken the time to think it out, there's a good chance I would've picked you."

This time she did stumble. "Really?"

"Yep." He tried a twirl and managed to keep both of them on their feet. "When all this mess is over and we're at our new school, maybe we can try dating. Do you think?"

She smiled radiantly. "Yes, Harry, I do think. Don't you know that I've had a crush on you since first year?"

His mouth gaped open. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I almost did, right before we separated on our way to the philosopher's stone, but I knew you didn't see me that way."

"Hermione, I was eleven. I didn't see any girl that way then." He snickered, "At least with you smacking me when I do something stupid, I know you aren't sucked into that Boy-Who-Lived crap."

"Well," she sniffed, "I much prefer the man to the myth."

"Good thing then. I'll be more than ready to leave the mythical behind at the end of this year."

"Just like I'll be glad to see the backs of Ron the Slob and Malfoy the Mouth."

"Aw, I bring you to this fancy dance and you keep talking about other men."

"Now, M. Potter, be very still." An elegant woman, who appeared altogether too youthful to be Claire's grandmother, waved a curved wand with an attractively whorled grain. "Hmm, ma petite-fille was correct. You, young man, have an invasive and unwelcome visitor under your scar."

"What?" He clapped his hand over said scar.

"Oui, a portion of a malevolent spirit. It must have been there for some time, as it has anchored itself quite securely."

"Does that mean you can't get it out?" Hermione asked, wringing her hands.

"Not a bit. Egidius, une chaise, s'il vous plait." She seated herself on the quickly summoned chair. "I am assuming that it is your semi-banished villain who inserted that piece into you. Not on purpose, else you would have shown signs of possession ere now."

"So that's what's causing my nightmares and visions? A part of Voldemort?"

"In all likelihood, Mr. Potter." Tekamthe crossed his arms and looked at the Headmistress. "Ms. Fontenot treated the pain topically, while I started him with meditation. He has the makings of a good occlumens."

"All to the better, for I am afraid that you," she patted Harry's knee, "must put up with it for a few months more. This will take a rituel très sérieux, and the spring equinox will offer cleansing power as winter is banished. I am sure that we can find an unoccupied circle on that date."

"I'll see to it, Madame," Tekamthe assured her. "May I assist you in gathering supplies?"

"Non, I shall bring them myself from Louisiane." She laughed in almost an evil manner, "I don't know if ces sauvages britanniques have any foods which would appease the Baron."

Hermione drew a sharp breath. "You are summoning Baron Samedi?"

"You are well informed, chérie. Yes, the Baron will not take kindly to one who tried to escape him. And he will not be pleased at travelling to this cold, wet place to remedy the situation." She shivered. "Now, as amusing as your quaint Yuletide dance was, I am quite ready to depart for my home clime. I shall see you again in the spring. Now, come, Egidius, and bring that colourful insect which was so unexpectedly attracted to my cypress wand. It…intrigues me." She stood and held out a hand to Harry, which, after a moment's hesitation, he bowed over; Hermione received an air kiss on both cheeks. "I must meet up with my dear Clarisse so we may travel together. My daughter, her maman, insists on throwing 'nice' wizards in her direction. Philomène has found a new one, so I managed to convince her that she cannot bring her new pet guard dog with us." She winked. "Perhaps you might be persuaded to feed and walk the mongrel?"

The two students sat in silence after the adults left. Finally, Harry turned to her. "Pet dog?"

"Not exactly the best time for that fraud Trelawney to be right," she replied tartly. "I suppose, as usual, Sirius paid no attention to any warnings."

"It's kind of hypocritical when he tells me to stay out of trouble." He leaned against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. "For once, I'd like to have some adult in my life that I can depend on."

"Harry," she took his hand, "you have Mlle Claire, Professor Tekamthe, and now Headmistress Laveaux. And you'll probably take back that wish if my parents ever ground you."

"Yeah," he managed a smile, "your mom wrote me a great letter. It let me know where you got the habit of those yard-long essays when we were only assigned one and a half feet."

She ignored the comment. "And Daddy is over the moon that we're moving to New Orleans. He's a big fan of jazz and has made a colour-coded list of all the best clubs."

"So that trait you inherited from him," he chuckled before sobering. "Hermione, you seemed concerned at something Mme Laveaux said. I didn't want to show myself totally ignorant in front of our new headmistress, but who is this Baron?"

"He is a loa of the dead in Haitian vodou," she whispered, glancing down at her hands. "He is the one who accepts souls into death's realm. So you can see that You-Know-Who has, shall we say, stepped on his toes for not remaining in the spirit world."

"So he's a bigger bad than Voldemort?"

"Correct, if ungrammatical. Oh," she growled, "how I wish we had a course on comparative world magicks. I only found this information from Muggle books that I ordered after talking with Professor Tekamthe after the first task."

"Relax," he hugged her shoulders, "this time next year you'll probably have read fifteen books on the stuff."

"Slight exaggeration," she sniffed. "Now, let's owl my parents and ask them to pop over to Tesco's and pick up some kibble for your idiotic godfather."

Once Hermione locked and placed a silencing ward on the train compartment, Sirius threw the hood of Harry's invisibility cloak off his head. "All clear, pup?" he asked eagerly.

Harry rolled up the latest Prophet and smacked him in the nose. "Bad dog! I told you to stay where it was safe!"

"Aw," he rubbed his face, "how can I be any safer than with an almost-Defence master? And have you seen Claire in her Muggle clothes? Ooh-la-la!"

"Shame on you for getting involved with Harry's tutor," Hermione scolded.

"What can I say?" He grinned. "I'm just a hound dog."

"Elvis you're not," she snapped, to his confusion. "Are we going to have to take you to a vet and neuter you?"

"That's a little harsh, isn't it?" Harry shifted his position a bit. "Sirius, I don't have many memories of you, but I'd like you to live long enough to make more."

"Well, you see, that's what Claire is going to be working on this holiday."

"But she's–" Hermione broke off before exclaiming, "Are you planning to ask for asylum?"

"Yep." He sat back, grinning. "She took a boat-load of memories back with her. Her grandmother has all these sneaky political allies who're going to look into my case. They want to make sure everything is copacetic before I turn myself into the American aurors."

"Yes," Harry pointed out, "but you still have a Kiss on Sight order here in Britain. And a dead godfather is not what I wanted for Christmas."

"I won't be in Magical areas–"

"You're also wanted in Muggle Britain. Let's hope Crookshanks still likes you. How about it, Crooks?" Hermione bent to peer into the part-kneazle's carrier.

"M-rour!" was the reply.

"See?" Sirius's voice was smug. "Who says cats and dogs can't be friends?"

"What about wolves?" Harry asked.

"Specifically werewolves," Hermione added. "Since you and Professor Lupin are such friends, is he planning to follow you?"

He shrugged. "I haven't been able to get in touch with him lately. He's been doing his brooding, 'Oh, woe is me' thing after Snape outed him."

"Perhaps he'll come around."

"It might be a while." He barked out a laugh. "He can get moodier around his time of month than any bird I dated at Hogwarts."

Harry took a deep breath and edged away while Sirius appeared heedless of the danger he was in. "You are aware," Hermione gritted through her teeth, "that you will be paying for that remark…repeatedly."

"Huh? What'd I say?" he asked, flummoxed.

"You are a product of a different and chauvinistic society," she wagged a finger at him, "but Mlle Claire and I will eventually get you up to speed. Now, during this visit," she speared both males with an autocratic eye, "there will be rules while at my home. Number one: no magic use except for your animagus transformation. We don't want to trigger the underaged magic detectors."

"Yeah," Harry put in, "they don't really check on who does the magic. I got caught with some done by a house elf."

"It would be Harry or I who would get in trouble then."

"Okay," the man nodded vigorously, "that makes sense."

"Number two, whenever we're in public, you will be in your dog form."

"And no chasing after squirrels," Harry cracked.

Sirius made a rude gesture. "No fear; I've had enough of eating rodents for a few decades, at least. Anything else?"

Her brow wrinkled in thought. "Not sure for now, but I'm not ruling out future restrictions. Just, behave!"

"Yeah," Harry waved the newspaper at him, "I bet there'll be plenty more of these at Hermione's house."

"Now," she dug in her bag, "I'm going to do a little light reading. You two have an hour to catch up before I unlock the door."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry blew a kiss at her and grinned at her blush.

"Just remember: no horseplay and keep your voices down."

Various friends came by to visit after the allotted hour. During that time Harry was stretched out on one seat, leaning against the window, while Hermione sat opposite, Crookshanks's case on the seat next to the wall. Malfoy made his usually snarky visit and quickly backed out when Harry (or so he thought) growled at him. They were relieved that Ron contented himself with an angry scowl as he passed by with Seamus and Dean.

"Oh, looks like we're almost to London," Harry said when grimy buildings came into view.

Hermione quickly began putting away her reading material as Ginny and Neville prepared to return to their previous carriage.

"You're sure you won't have time to visit the Burrow?" the redhead asked wistfully. "I bet if you and Ron spent more time together–"

Neville shook his head. "Give it up, Gin. Ron's made his bed; now he has to lie in it."

"Am I a bad person," Harry asked with a puckish expression, "if I hope that it's lumpy?"

In order to avoid a regrettable collision, they waited until the train was almost empty before disembarking and heading for the barrier.

"Mom, Dad!" Hermione was hugged by each parent in turn. "This is Harry. Let's hurry home so that you can meet his godfather."