I own nothing but the plot.
"Good morning, class," Professor Vector said to her class. "Lately, we've been working on learning the pyramid method for simple predictions of the upcoming future. Today, we're going to try and predict something with it. First, we'll do a quick review."
She pointed at Harry, singling him out.
"Mr Potter," she asked, "can you tell me one of the main rules of the pyramid method?"
"Do not ask questions to which you already know the answer," Harry answered.
"Correct," Professor Vector said. "Magic does not like rhetorical questions. Miss Granger, what's another rule?"
"Ask meaningful questions," Hermione answered.
"Correct," Professor Vector said. "If you ask a frivolous question, you will calculate a frivolous answer. Gryffindors, take two points. For Ravenclaw, let's try you, Miss Turpin. Another rule, please."
"The question should pertain to yourself," Lisa answered.
"Correct," Professor Vector said. "This is a bit looser of a rule, however. Many things can affect you and thus be about yourself. For example, determining if this will be a good year for crops on a specific farm will be about you if you eat food from that farm. Also, you are free to guide others using your knowledge. The question asker, however, should do the work. Miss Patil, how about another rule?"
"Do not try to generate clear yes or no answers," Padma answered.
"Correct," Professor Vector said. "While Arithmancy is far more precise than Divination, it is still quite usual to end up with more questions than answers when you're done with your calculations. You should try to gain insight and additional information instead of trying to get definitive answers. Ravenclaws, take two points as well. Mr Malfoy, how do you generate the first number in the first row of your pyramid?"
"Count the number of words in your question," Draco answered.
"Correct," Professor Vector said. "Mr Nott, how do you generate the second number in the first row of your pyramid?"
"Um..." Nott stammered, "Subtract the number of words from the number of letters?"
"Incorrect," Professor Vector said. "Miss Greengrass, can you save the point for Slytherin?"
"You count the number of letters in the first word of your question," Daphne answered.
"Correct," Professor Vector said. "Slytherins, take two points. Mr Nott, please review the pyramid method steps before trying your prediction. Now, Miss Abbot, how do you generate the first number in the second row of your pyramid?"
"Add the first number in the first row to the second number in the first row and reduce it," Hannah answered.
"Correct," Professor Vector said. "Mr Smith, when and how do you reduce the number?"
"When it's too big?" Smith asked.
"Is that a joke?" Professor Vector asked severely.
"I forgot," Smith said sheepishly.
"Then I want you to go over the steps again before you try a prediction," Professor Vector snapped. "If you don't know an answer, please say that you don't know rather than guess in the dark. Miss Bones, perhaps you can answer. How and when do you reduce the number?"
"When the number is greater than a single digit," Susan answered, "add the individual numbers that make it up together till you get a single digit number."
"Correct. For an extra point," Professor Vector called out to the class, "can someone give me an example?" Most of the class raised their hand, but Hermione was first and was called on.
"If the first number is five," Hermione answered, "and the second number is eight, that would make thirteen. Add the one and three in thirteen to get four."
"Correct," Professor Vector said. "Hufflepuffs, take two points, Gryffindors another one point. You generate the rest of your second row by adding each number to the next number in the first row. Who can tell me how you complete the pyramid? Miss Bones?"
"The same way you generated the second row," Susan answered. "Each row will have one less number than the above until you reach the point of your pyramid on the bottom with only one number in your final row."
"Correct," said Professor Vector. "Take another point, Hufflepuffs. The final row will have your outcome number for your question. Use your Arithmancy Pyramid Outcome chart to gain insight into your question by consulting the outcome number of your answer. Now, be careful. Arithmancy outcome number meanings differ slightly from Numerology outcome number meanings, but you can get a general answer from either. Any questions? Miss Parkinson?"
"Can you get a different answer by changing how you ask the question?" Pansy asked.
"Good question," Professor Vector said. "The answer is both yes and no. If you get an outcome number you don't like, you can change the generated outcome number by phrasing your question differently and trying until you get one you like. Magic, however, is not fooled by trickery. While you might be able to generate a favourable answer, you won't be getting the real answer. You'll be getting the answer you manufactured. Any other questions? Let's get started, then, shall we?"
Toma piloted his ship into one of the neverending streams of vessels crisscrossing the skyways over the planet Coruscant. He handed off the controls to his atromech droid and relaxed as they made their way to the Jedi Temple. They landed on the private platform that serviced the Temple only fifteen minutes later.
"Master Kendet," an attendant said, coming up to greet Toma as he exited his starship. "You're presence is requested in the council room."
"Very well," Toma said, allowing the attendant to take his possessions. They would be delivered to his quarters. He made his way into the Temple and was very shortly standing in the middle of the circle of Jedi Masters who made up the Jedi Council.
"Master Kendet," Gendut Merengus said, greeting Toma as he entered the semicircle of Masters that was the ruling council of the Jedi. "Welcome home."
"Thank you, Master Merengus," Toma said.
"I trust you are well rested?" Merengus inquired. His voice registered only a polite inquiry, but Toma was not fooled.
"After four months of being petrified, I should hope so," Toma said, cooly.
"Yes," Merengus replied. "You also have not had an assignment in some time. I'm afraid we no longer have the luxury of allowing a Jedi Master to rest in idleness on a distant world. There are issues in the galaxy that needs tending."
"I have some concerns about leaving my padawan alone," Toma protested. "He is already being affected by..."
"Your padawan," interrupted Merengus, "is attending his school. I was against this, but as my opinion was not followed, we must allow the situation to play out. He will adapt to your absence. Or is he incapable of acting without your guidance at such an advanced age?"
"I trust him to do as he feels is right," Toma said, tightly controlling his anger. "If you are asking me if he is ready at only thirteen years of age to take the trials and be a Jedi, then no."
"Of course not," Merengus said. "I am not suggesting that at all. But he should still be able to function without you for an extended time. At any rate, we have a need for you in the Secarus sector. You should be able to complete that assignment and return in time to pick young Potter up after school. May the Force be with you.
October 30th - Saturday
It was the day before Halloween and the first Hogsmeade day of the school year. The students in Third year and up were quickly finishing their breakfast so they could go and enjoy their day. The sun had crept over the nearby mountains to reveal a light blue sky that deepened to royal azure. A crisp chill hung over the grounds causing a mist to roll over the lawns down to the lake. A line of carriages waited outside the enormous doors to the castle.
"We need to go to Honeydukes first," Ron said as he rushed out the large front doors. He was followed by Lisa Turpin, who was smiling at his enthusiasm. "I've been hearing about it my whole life from my brothers. They've got everything, and you can watch them make it all right there in the shop!"
Harry and Hermione were close behind and joined them in the carriage.
"I can't wait to see Dervish and Banges," Hermione said. "I can't imagine all the things they might have."
"That's the wizarding equipment shop, right?" asked Harry, sitting next to Hermione.
"Yes," Lisa answered. "They have all kinds of things there. Telescopes, scales, sneakoscopes... well, everything, really. If Magic needs it, they have it. I've been a few times with my Dad. It's really neat."
"Neville and Daphne will meet us for lunch at The Three Broomsticks," Hermione said. "They're off on their own, having some time to themselves at Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop." Hermione saw Ron blush at that and give Lisa a sideways glance. She gave Harry a knowing smile.
Harry and Hermione spent the morning wandering the aisles of the various shops. Dervish and Banges did indeed have instruments for every occasion.
"Look at all this," Hermione said, staring at rows of telescopes. "I wonder if we'd be allowed to use any of these in Astronomy class."
"I don't know," Harry said, examining an orrery. The display tag showed that this was a miniature model of a room-sized instrument that would fill an office. "I doubt it, though. Most of these say they can't be shrunk without damaging them, and they'd be too large to lug through the castle."
"I suppose not," Hermione said. "It would also be a lot to ask for, even for a Christmas present. It doesn't cost anything to dream about it, though."
"No," Harry agreed, reading the price tag of the model she seemed most interested in. "I would definitely say that twenty thousand Galleons would be quite the present."
"What are those?" Hermione asked, dragging Harry along to the next aisle. It was filled with clear, round balls filled with springs and gears.
"Sneakoscopes," Harry answered, reading the description tag. "This says they'll light up and make noise if anyone around you is up to no good."
"Does it tell you who is up to no good," Hermione asked, peering at one of the larger models, "or what they're doing?"
"Not with the Scopes," a man said, approaching them. He was a middle-aged man, portly and balding, and wore an embroidered apron with the store's logo. "You'd want something from our Foe Glass line for that. The Sneakoscopes are more of an alarm system."
"How do you use them?" Hermione asked, looking back at the row of Sneakoscopes.
"You put it near your valuables," the clerk answered, "and you'll know to be extra vigilant if it goes off." He gestured at the rows of balls sitting on the middle shelf. "These models are the middle-tier, good for everyday household use. These smaller ones down here on the bottom shelf are your budget models. They're good as small presents for kids and what have you. To be honest, they're not very reliable and are not much better than toys. The ones on the top shelf are our finest models. Please don't handle those without our help. They are usually used by Aurors and Hit Wizards and are priced accordingly. We do custom work as well if you're interested. We just commissioned a model not long ago for an exceptional client. He wanted one that would go off if anyone so much as fibbed within a mile of him."
"Wouldn't that go off all the time, though?" Hermione asked, confused.
"Oh, yes," the clerk answered with a chuckle. "We had a devil of a time testing that one. Had to wait till nearly two in the morning when everyone else in town was asleep."
"This client, why would he want that?" Hermione asked.
"No idea," answered the clerk. "Still, ours is not to wonder why."
"Theirs but to do and die," Hermione said.
"What's that, now?" The clerk asked, puzzled.
"What you said, 'Ours is not to wonder why,' it's from a poem," Hermione answered. "Well, sort of."
"Is it, now?" The clerk asked. "I didn't know that. It's just something my Da always said whenever a customer demanded something special that didn't make sense. He owns this shop. He says that a lot, actually."
"It's from Alfred, Lord Tennyson's poem, The Charge of the Light Brigade," Hermione said. She closed her eyes in concentration and recited.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Someone had blundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred."
"Well, that's right cheery, isn't it?" the clerk said. "How did you know that?"
"That's the poem's second stanza," Hermione said, smiling. "I studied it several years ago in my last year of Muggle school. I memorized that part to recite to the class as an assignment."
"That's quite a memory you've got, Little Miss," the clerk said. "Well, these middle-tier models will certainly help keep you out of that Valley of Death, and they're on sale, too. Normally they go for twenty Galleons, but they're currently only fifteen. I'll even throw an extra Galleon off for that tidbit from Mister Lord Tennis-Man."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I don't have that much on me."
"I'll buy it for her," Harry said, reaching for his moneybag.
"You don't have to do that, Harry," Hermione protested.
"Nonsense," Harry said, smiling. "We give Birthday and Christmas presents. Why not a Halloween present?"
"But I didn't get you anything!" Hermione cried out.
"Let him do it, lass," the clerk said. "It's a sweet thing, to be sure. In fact, it's a good idea, and I'll be using it myself. I'll pick up something to surprise the missus tonight and get in her good book." He winked at Harry and then spent several minutes helping a blushing Hermione pick out a Sneakoscope she really liked.
Harry picked up some new potion scales that were more accurate than those in the beginner's kit he had picked up in his first year at Hogwarts. Hermione replaced the silver knife for her potions kit. Her old one was still being held as evidence from the Werewolf attack on the Hogwarts Express. She shuddered at the thought of getting it back and wouldn't have used it again anyway.
Honeydukes was amazing. Children floated in the air as they sampled fizzing sherbert balls, while others blew smoke rings from pepper imps. Candy artisans with wands directed metal scrapers to knead toffee into fantastic shapes, and a fountain of hard candies flowed into glass jars that were never filled. Everyone loaded up on sweets, and Hermione even picked up some tooth-flossing string mints to send to her parents.
They met Neville and Daphne again at The Three Broomsticks for lunch, along with Lisa and Ron. Tracey, who had spent the day with Terry Boot, also joined them. Harry sampled Butterbeer for the first time. He very much enjoyed the shepherd's pie the inn served as well.
"So," Hermione asked Daphne, "how was Madame Puddifoot's?"
"It was nice," Daphne said, smiling at Neville. "It was a little overdone with the heart-shaped confetti raining down, but the tea was excellent. The tables were charmed for privacy, so each group could talk without disturbing anyone else."
"That was good," Neville said, "because it was crowded, and everyone was seated very close. The charms made it so you couldn't hear anything anyone said if they weren't seated at your table."
"That's very impressive charms work," Hermione said.
"You can still see everyone, though," Daphne cautioned, "so you should keep the public displays of affection to a minimum."
"Some seventh-year Slytherins got thrown out because of that," Nevile laughed.
"They should have known better," Daphne said. "Those particular families never bred for intelligence, though."
"So," Tracey teased, "you and Neville didn't get thrown out?"
"We wouldn't have gotten caught," Daphne responded. Neville choked on his Butterbeer.
After lunch, the group stayed together and visited various shops. The Post Office had a small pet shop attached to it. Hermione picked up some kneazle treats for Crookshanks while Ron looked at an owl wistfully.
"Missing Scabbers?" Lisa asked him.
"No," Ron said defensively. Then he blushed. "Well, yes. I don't know why, though. He wasn't really Scabbers, was he?"
"It's ok, Ron," Lisa said, rubbing his back. "You're allowed to be sad about your pet. Just because he was actually a person doesn't mean you didn't think of him as a pet." She winced. "Ok, that came out wrong."
"It didn't come out wrong at all," a light, airy voice chimed in. Everyone turned to find Luna Lovegood petting a group of owls.
"What are you doing here, Luna?" Hermione asked. "You're a second year. You're not allowed."
"I had to send a package to my Daddy," Luna asked. "The school owls told me they were all busy, so Professor Flitwick escorted me here."
"Hello, students," the tiny Charms professor said, poking his head up from behind a counter. No one had spotted him as his head was barely taller than the counter when standing up, and he had been crouched down to seal a package with spell-o-tape.
"Nothing ever comes out wrong as long as you say it with kindness," Luna said to Lisa.
"This needs to go to Gringotts, please," Professor Flitwick told the Post Master. He handed over the package and a handful of coins. A large barn owl swooped down and stuck out its foot to allow the parcel to be tied to it. With a hoot, it flew out a window and out of sight.
"I've wondered a lot about owls," Harry said, staring out the window after the bird. "Don't people notice birds with packages flying all over?"
"Don't be silly," Luna said with a giggle. "Owls don't fly the whole way."
"They don't?" Ron asked. "How do they get where they're going, then? There isn't an Owl Express Train or anything."
"They use Hoot Holes," Luna explained.
"What's a Hoot Hole?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
"Once an owl flies out of sight," Luna said, "it slips into a Hoot Hole. Sometime later, it comes out of another Hoot Hole close to its destination."
"You mean like a wormhole?" Harry asked.
"No," Luna said patiently, "a Hoot Hole. A worm would have to be very large for even the smallest owl to fit in, and they wouldn't even go anywhere but where the worm had been."
"A wormhole isn't that kind of hole," Harry said. "It's a shortcut through spacetime. It happens when two charged black holes are connected through a cosmic string. But they're not stable, and you still have to deal with the effects of being near and through the black holes. How would an owl create one?"
"I think it has something to do with their feathers," Luna said.
"As interesting as this is," Professor Flitwick said with a chuckle, "I'm afraid I must be getting Miss Lovegood back to the castle. Have a good day, students!" He guided Luna to the exit but turned back to call over his shoulder. "By the way, Miss Lovegood is quite correct on how post owls get around. Though I didn't know about these... black holes, did you call them?"
"Yes, Professor," Harry said. He stared at an owl and wondered if this was how that first owl had found him on Coruscant before he first returned to Earth. That was a very long way for an owl to go.
The group spent the rest of the day wandering the town before meeting at the Shrieking Shack at sunset.
"It's very spooky," Ron said, aiming a suspicious glare at the shabby hut. Lisa had her arm looped through his as she tried to peer through the gaps in the shack's walls.
"It's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Scotland," Hermione said.
"There are at least twenty ghosts at Hogwarts," Harry said with a laugh. "Surely, there can't be that many in that tiny shack."
"Maybe it's enlarged inside," Hermione answered. "Or maybe it's not about the number of ghosts, but their disposition. Except for Peeves, the ghosts at Hogwarts are all very nice. According to the rumours, people used to hear howling and screaming from this shack once upon a time. That's how it got its name."
Professor Lupin had confided in Harry and Hermione over the summer about his status as a Werewolf, so Harry knew Hermione was well aware of the source of the growls and screams. He thought it was very nice of her to run interference for the Professor like this.
"Well," Tracey said, giving Daphne and Neville a glance, "I'm heading back to the castle with Terry. Need to get this stuff put away."
Tracey headed off to the Hogsmeade Train Station, where carriages were waiting to bring students back to the castle. The rest of the group separated into couples and sat apart to watch the sunset. Harry and Hermione sat next to each other, his arm around her shoulders and their heads pressed together. Daphne and Neville were cuddling together, whispering. Lisa and Ron took advantage of the semi-privacy a tree provided and had progressed to furtively kissing each other and checking to see if anyone was looking.
"Harry?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Yes?" Harry answered.
"Next Hogsmeade weekend, do you think we could go to Madame Puddifoot's?"
"I'd love to," Harry answered. They didn't say anything else but remained pressed against each other until the sky turned purple and the stars came out.
Everyone left the Shrieking Shack and made their way to the carriages. Lisa and Ron were still blushing whenever anyone looked at them. They rode back to the castle, chatting about their pleasant day. After dinner, everyone went to their respective common rooms to turn in early. After all, it was Halloween the next day, and anticipation of the festivities was palpable.
Sleep was not coming easily to Harry. He could still feel the touch on the side of his head where Hermione's head had pressed against his. He could still smell the scent of her shampoo. The pressures of the Jedi Code weighed heavily on his thoughts. Where was this going? Would it be allowed? Could he take her with him to the Jedi Temple? Would he have to leave the Jedi Order to stay with her? He needed to have a conversation with Toma.
Delores Umbridge sat alone in her home. She was well-positioned to be the next undersecretary for the Minister for Magic, and with that promotion, she'd finally be able to afford a home more in line with her status. While she certainly felt she rated a bigger and more elegant home now, she had to make do with an upscale apartment until everyone else recognized that. At least it was on the first floor. She refused to suffer the indignity of having to climb stairs just to get in and out of her home.
The only thing she particularly liked about the apartment was a large picture window facing a copse of trees behind the building. She enjoyed looking out that window as she sat at her desk and wrote page after page of proposed legislation and editorials for the newspaper. She was even thinking of starting to write a book. All she had so far was the title. The Magic Thieves would be the definitive work explaining how muggles were stealing wands from witches and wizards and infiltrating the magical world.
She was gazing out her window, dreaming of the day she would drive the muggles out of their stolen positions. As she looked at the trees, she saw a dark shape dart between two of the trunks. She leaned closer to the window for a better look. Something was standing behind one of the trees. She could see it move as it looked about. It was past ten o'clock at night, but the full moon's light bathed the scene, and she could see reasonably well. It was still pretty dark under the trees, though, and she could only make out the general outline of a large animal.
She stood up to get her wand. The animal saw her movement through the window and jerked its head in her direction. She froze. The amber eyeshine of two large eyes stared at her. She was breathing heavily as she clutched her chest. She was able to make out the profile of the animal. A doglike head on a large, bipedal body. The beast stepped into the moonlight, and she saw it was covered in brown fur. It was a wolf. There was only one wolf that stood upright on two legs. A Werewolf.
She backed away from the window as quickly as she could. As if waiting for her to run, the beast sprang forward and dashed towards the window. Umbridge grasped for her wand, which she had left lying on her desk. Fumbling in panic, it bounced off her fingers and flew under her curio cabinet.
The picture window shattered as the Werewolf crashed through the glass. Umbridge, cowering on her hands and knees to try and retrieve her wand, could only look up in terror at the beast staring down at her. As soon as her eyes locked onto the Werewolf's, it lunged down. She screamed at the agonizing pain of long teeth puncturing her shoulder. She felt the shattering crunch of her shoulder bones breaking as her left arm went numb. The last thing she remembered was the Werewolf sniffing at her as she screamed until she blacked out.
A/N - Some people have expressed concerns over how powerful I've made the Werewolves in my story. Specifically, some people are unhappy with how I've made them lightsaber resistant. I'm not going to change that, but I will offer two explanations. The in-story explanation is that they are magically resistant to all damage when in Werewolf form. There is a reason they are feared. There is a reason why they're still around in a society with options like the Killing Curse and where everyone age eleven and up is armed. The out-story explanation is that, while lightsabers are incredibly cool, they present a bit of a problem when the main character has an unstoppable, unbeatable plasma blade that can go through anything, AND he is the only one that has one. When I first wrote the attack on the Hogwarts Express, I had Harry slice and dice the Werewolf and end the threat immediately. It was incredibly satisfying but only about two paragraphs long. Hence, Werewolves are magically resistant.