James wanted nothing to do with my investigation. He said that it was a load of dragon dung, I was being paranoid, and that none of this 'dangerous' information was related to each other in any way, shape, or form. He was just being cynical and no fun if you ask me. Also, I think that he might have been jealous that he wasn't the one with the crazy and amazingly brilliant idea for once. That would show him.

He was also spending much more time with Charlotte (if that was at all possible), who was making it a daily habit of scowling at me, snubbing me, and being an all around snobby, wet, horrible, bloody annoying slack alice. 'Oh, look, professor, I got the answer to the question before Weasley did! Fancy that!' 

Could life get worse?

Oh, yes! That's right, I still have Christmas holidays to look forward to. Even then, I probably won't get any attention, what with the new kid and all. I hope he's not smart. I'll still be the smart one, then. Sometimes I marvel at just how shallow I can be. Like right then, for instance. I was eating lunch in the Great Hall, watching James chatting up Charlotte again, and I was thinking about how much I wanted to punch Charlotte. Who cares if she's a girl; she still needs a good punching every now and then. Maybe I could pay Jessie or Fiona to give her a good duffing up for me.

I glared at them and went back to reading Doubly Jeopardy while lazily eating my chicken sandwich (Dad had this habit of turning everything, and I mean everything into a sandwich, and I just happened to pick up on it). I still hadn't actually figured out what 'double jeopardy' was, so I wasn't finding the book terribly interesting right now. Perhaps I would ask Mum. She knew the answer to everything.

I picked up my book and walked to the staff table, ignoring the comments of 'Where's he going?' and 'Search me' from James and Charlotte. I plopped my book down on the table, in front of Mum who was talking with Professor Lewis (the Muggle Studies teacher), causing the entire table to look at me.

"What's 'double jeopardy' mean?" I asked Mum, referring to the book.

The staff table chuckled a bit, as did Mum. Maybe all first-years were supposed to know this? Maybe they found my thirst for knowledge rather amusing? Maybe I reminded them of Mum, or maybe they were surprised that I was reading advanced material? Teachers can be incredibly dense when they want to be.

"Come around here," Mum said, nodding her head to behind where she was sitting. I crossed behind her and sat in Dad's seat as she picked up the book and began flipping through it. "You see, Landon, 'double jeopardy' is a concept that the Death Eaters used to thrive off of. It says that you can't be tried, and in turn, committed, for the same crime twice."

"So, if I were to murder Charlotte- not that I would or anything- and then I murdered James, I couldn't be committed?"

"Not exactly," Mum said. "If you'd been accused murdered Charlotte- and you'd better not even think about it- and once you'd gotten out of Azkaban and your father and I allowed you out of the house, then you could kill Charlotte without being in any danger."

I was confused. "But if she was dead in the first place, how could I kill her again?"

Mum smiled, and I was suddenly aware that all of the teachers were looking at us, rather entertained by this. "Well," she said, "what case do you know of in which that very thing happened?"

I thought for a minute. Nothing was coming to me, so I shook my head.

Mum put her fork down. "Oh, come now, I know that you know. Your father and I have taught you better than that. Try harder."

I thought some more, and then it came to me. "Uncle Sirius!" I said. "Everyone thought that he killed Peter Pettigrew, but he didn't; so when he came back, he could have killed Peter and not be tried for it…right?"

"Makings of a wonderful Auror, son," she said. "Can you tell me why Uncle Sirius decided not to kill him? It's much simpler than you might think."

And the light bulb goes on yet again. "Well, if he turned Pettigrew into the Ministry, then his name would be cleared, and his record would be erased. He also wouldn't have had to live with a murder on his shoulders, and if Pettigrew was so closely related to Voldemort, then he could lead the Ministry to him, even if it required Veritasserum."

Mum smiled. "Good. The Death Eaters thrived on 'double jeopardy' as well as retribution, mainly. Apart from killing Muggles and Muggle-borns. What they didn't realize was that they would, in turn, be killing out the wizarding world."

"That's why you named the book 'double jeopardy'," I surmised.

She nodded. "Why this sudden interest in law, Landon?"

"Just…curious," I said with a shrug and grin.

"Landon," Mum said harshly, "if I find out that this is anything about what you three saw on Halloween, I will make sure that-"

"It's not," I quickly lied. "Promise."

I almost felt bad about abusing Mum's trust like that. Almost. I was about to ask another question, when I saw Dad standing at the stairs, waiting for something with a bag other than his briefcase slung over his shoulder. A small little boy, just barely able to walk, was cautiously stepping down the steps to the Great Hall. Dad grew impatient, and swooped his arm down, catching the little boy just under the arms and hoisting him up into his arms. The little boy squealed in delight, causing the sound of 'Aw' to echo throughout the Great Hall, coming mostly from the girls.

"The ladies like you, man!" Dad said, poking his stomach and making him giggle. "Blow 'em a kiss." The boy seemed to get embarrassed when he realized that so many people were looking at him, so he buried his head in Dad's shoulder. "Come on," Dad said. "No? All right."

The little boy sat up and smacked his hand to his lips before throwing his arm out into the air and making a 'mwahh!' noise. He then proceeded to bury his head in Dad's shoulder once more. Great, girls already liked him better than me.

Dad loved kids (for some odd reason). That was one similarity that I didn't share with him. Why, when Emily was little, I hated to be around her. She smelled. This little boy didn't look to bad, though. He had dark hair, like Mum's, that was kind of moppy, but adorable in it's own right. He was wearing a white shirt and denim overalls. The most interesting thing about him was his eyes. They were the bluest blue that one could ever see. They were big and were exploring everything with an intense curiosity (AN: think little Danny at the end of Pearl Harbor). I guess this was my brother, then.

Dad walked up to the staff table as the Great Hall got back to normal, and handed the little boy to Mum as he squealed happily. I guess he already recognized her. Mum cooed to him, making him laugh. I wonder if people realize how stupid they look while playing with babies. The teachers were all looking on now, finding how curious it was that he bore a striking resemblance to Mum and Dad, each in their own right.

"Ron," Mum said, "Not that I mind, but why did you bring him here?"

Dad sighed. "Nanny Maureen cancelled on us. Please don't freak out."

"She cancelled? We had a contractual agreement; she can't just cancel! It's one day a week! Doesn't she realize the situation that she's-"

"Hermione, breathe," Dad commanded, making Mum glare at him, before her face split into a grin. He was rubbing her arms in that very 'Mum and Dad' sort of way. "It's no big deal; we can just find someone else. We can just drop him off at The Burrow, or at your parents' until we find a Nanny for Wednesdays. All right?"

Mum nodded as she set the squirming baby down on the ground, letting him crawl around a bit, although he was still under their very watchful eyes.

"Hi, Dad," I said.

He turned. "Oh, hello, son. I didn't even see you there."

Inferiority complex? What inferiority complex?

I picked up my book with a sigh and walked back to my seat, nearly being run over by Evie, apparently rushing to see the baby. What was his name? I sat down next to James, fully prepared to be ignored. Surprisingly, though, just about everyone at Gryffindor table wanted to talk to me, dying to know about my brother. Honestly, what was the big deal when Emily came into school?

Up at the staff table, I could see the little boy climbing up onto a surprised Professor Dumbledore's lap with Mum's wand in his hand. Unfortunately, Mum and Dad were talking to Evie and didn't notice, and the Headmaster dismissed him as being a 'cute little tyke'. He didn't intervene when the boy began prodding the turkey on the table with the wand, and enlarging it to the size of a small Volkswagen. The boy's giggles (and the laughter of the entire Great Hall) got the attention of my parents, and they turned around with a start. Dad reversed the Engorgement Charm, while Mum picked up the little boy, who looked severely close to tears at the sight of his creation being destroyed.

"We are so sorry," Mum and Dad said at the same time.

"Terribly sorry."

"Won't happen again."

"Really, we're so, so sorry."

"I think they get the point, Mione."

I went back to eating my sandwich, shrugging off the questions that people were bombarding me with. It occurred to me then, that I didn't even know the kid's name. Minor details, sure, but I was going to have to know what my little brother should be called. I could just see it: Hey, Mum! 'The child' wants something to eat! Yeah, that would go over big, I'm sure.

We all were finishing our lunch, and began walking to our classes. Incidentally, I had Defense Against the Dark Arts. I suppose that I would be getting some answers then, assuming that the kid would be staying with Mum for the rest of the day, just like Emily and I had at that age- Mondays and Fridays with Mum, Tuesdays and Thursdays with Dad, Wednesday with a nanny or a grandmother.

I quickly jogged to Gryffindor Tower and exchanged my books, hoping not to be late for Mum's class. True, she was my mother, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't rant on a bit for being late to class.

I wasn't late, although I was the last to arrive. The class was gathered around Mum's desk, rather quiet. Every now and then, there would be a burst of laughter. I joined the group and saw the little boy sitting on her desk.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Charlotte asked him.

He tilted his head to the side with a puzzled look on his head, as if her was thinking for a second (Aw! from the girls). "Dack!" He said, happily.

Dack? My brother was named Dack? Were my parents drunk when they named him? Who named a kid Dack?" 

"His name is Jack," Mum said, coming out of her office. "Seats please, everyone."

Jack was standing up on her desk now, toddling around playing with things that should not have been played with, all the while chortling, "Dack, Dack, Dack, Dack, Dack, Dack, Dack…" etc. He stopped abruptly, lifting his hands in the air. "Mama! Up!" 

Mum picked him up, and paced in front of the class as we passed up our homework assignment from the night before. He was squirming around, so she set him down, letting him toddle throughout the room. He was stepping carefully up the levels of our desks. I was sitting on the end of the third row.

"Now," Mum said, "Last night, you were to read about Senesces. Who can tell me what the main attack of a Seneca is?"

My hand went up in the air. She called on Charlotte. One thing about Mum was that she never wanted to show favoritism towards James or I. Since she was so set on not doing that, it seemed that she favored everyone else, only calling on me when no one else knew the answer. Surprisingly, that wasn't as often as you might think. It was often times a draw between Charlotte and I. Charlotte always got called in. Some might think that Mum was sexist, but it was more…child-ist…I guess.

I was copying notes about the Seneca when Jack stopped in front of me, looking at me curiously. He abruptly pointed and turned to Mum, who was talking.

"Mama!" he called. "Yemen!"

Why was it that he was pointing at me and screaming out the name of a Middle Eastern country? What did they teach those kids in that orphanage?

Mum smiled and shook her head. "Yes, sweetheart, that's Landon. Come here." He walked to her, and she picked him up.

"Why'd he call me Yemen?" I asked.

Mum's smile broadened and she chuckled a bit. "He can't say 'Landon' yet. It's all right."

"Mum," I said, "You need to teach this kid how to talk."

She laughed again, before turning back to the class and continuing on about the Seneca. She explained that she had a practical lesson planned for the day, but since the Nanny had canceled and she had to take care of Jack for today, it would have to wait until tomorrow when he would be at work with Dad.

We continued with the lesson, but my thoughts drifted back to Jack. I looked at him, sitting there on Mum's desk, his curious eyes exploring everything. I had to admit, the kid was pretty cute. But something seemed almost odd about him. It was something very familiar. As if I had seen him somewhere in a book that I had read. That was probable, considering how much I read. I might have read a description of a character in a novel that was similar to Jack, or even met someone a long time ago. Perhaps in kindergarten I had a friend like him? I wondered if Mum and Dad had adopted him for another reason than what she had told me. Seeing as how it was my parents, I'm sure that that was liable. I whipped out my 'thesis' and added a little snippet about Jack. I wanted to figure this out.

Mum dismissed the class, and we exchanged our books for Potions. Curse Snape; the man was evil. He paired me with Charlotte, rather amused at how we hated each other. The man was as old as dirt, and had something up his arse, that was for sure. For some reason, he hated Gryffindors (I'm told it dates back to James's grandfather, my Great-Uncle James), and his detestation seemed to be focused on James and me.

"Weasley!" Charlotte hissed. "Would you concentrate, please? Your roots are an eighth of a centimeter too big!"

"It's a bloody eighth of a centimeter!" I hissed back.

Snape tutted. "Weasley, using profanity in class? I'm afraid that's five points from Gryffindor."

Charlotte elbowed me…hard.

The rest of the class we only spoke to each other when demanding that an ingredient be passed from the other end of the desk, and barely looked at each other, even when roughly passing them. I almost hoped that something flammable would explode on her. Of course, that would require fire, and she wasn't spontaneously combusting (although I wouldn't have minded that. I could use a good laugh right now).

"Hand me the newt heartstrings."

"Get them yourself."

I reached over to pick up the cutting board that the heartstrings were on, and picked it up. It was rather heavy, and I only had one free hand to pick them up. I could feel the board slipping, and I reached out my other hand to steady it as Charlotte, who was staring at the directions in her book, lifted the mixture of beetle eyes and dragon bile to pour it into our potion. As I said before, Charlotte was kind of clumsy in our first few years, and her hand holding the mixture collided with the cutting board, at such a force that sent them flying. The heartstrings landed with only a clatter on the floor that could be easily cleaned up, but we had no such luck with the eye/bile compound. It flew into Luke Adamson(the almost-squib)'s potion, and exploded, scorching the poor kid's eyebrows, and sending the potion and mangled pieces of cauldron everywhere.

"I can't believe you did that, Landon!" Charlotte screamed at me, ignoring the mess on the ceiling, floors, walls, and students.

"I did that? Why are you blaming me? You were the one who wasn't looking at what she was doing! You were the one who refused to just hand me the roots! You're the one who's just so damn clumsy, Miss 'the-roots-are-a-bloody-eighth-of-a-centimeter-too-big'! You're the one who's too stubborn to help me for just one second! You're the one who can't swallow your pride for just one second to admit that I'm right! You're the one who insists that she's perfect just to cover up some stupid insecurity! But that's obviously not working, because I still hate you!"

My chest suddenly felt much lighter.

"You're just jealous of me!" she shouted. "You spend so much time behind a book to realize that you've got no friends! You're the one who doesn't care about anything except being the best, even if it means sacrificing the people that are close to you! You're the one who can't handle being wrong! You're the one who always has to show off, just so you can live up to your mother! You're the one who sets these stupid standards for yourself to be the best! I'm not the one who's insecure, here, Landon Weasley!" she shouted back at me. "And, if it makes you feel any better, I hate you, too!"

I narrowed my eyes at her, and she narrowed hers at me, ready for another face off. James was looking back and forth between us.

"I think," James said, cautiously, "it's time that you two back off and go to separate corners."

"Shut up," we said in unison.

Snape stepped in between us now. "Weasley, Bronte! Enough! Go upstairs to the storage closet and bring things to clean this lot up now! Detention all next week! I will not tolerate this behavior in my class! Seventy-Five points from Gryffindor!" he dismissed the class as we walked sullenly to the floor above the dungeons that was deserted for the most part.

There was a hallway that wound in a square that made up this floor, both sides lined with identical oak doors, none of them labeled. All we knew was that one of them was the caretaker's office, and another had supplies in it. The sounds of our feet bounced off the stone walls, leaving an eerie echo. The torches on the walls cast shadows that were even more eerie. Bronte looked a bit edgy, but I would show her. 

"You're not scared, are you, Bronte?" I asked her with a bit of a sneer.

"No!" she answered abruptly, her voice more high pitched than usual. "No."

I smiled in that kind of 'I don't believe you, but I'll humour you' way. "All right."

A high-pitched laugh echoed down the corridor, and Charlotte jumped with a gasp. "What was that?" she asked.

Of course, it had scared me, too. I smiled at her skeptically. 

"It was only Peeves. Chill out."

Awkward Pause…

"Which is the supply closet; do you know?" she asked me rather timidly.

"If I knew, then we wouldn't be wandering around like two idiots, would we?"

"I only see one idiot here, Weasley."

"Too many comebacks. I cannot choose."

She looked at me for a second, and I thought that she might yell at me. Surprisingly, though, she laughed.

"You'll get yours, Weasley," she said, still laughing. Something about her laugh was kind of contagious, and even though it was directed at me, I somehow managed to laugh, too.

"I guess that we should just…start opening doors, then?" I asked.

"Guess so."

We randomly opened doors, finding that none of them had anything inside other than the occasional rat, spider or cockroach. I hate spiders.

"This is ridiculous," Charlotte said after we had walked for what seemed like forever, and opened a countless number of doors. "Let's just go back."

I nodded. Indeed, this was ridiculous. We walked back the way that we had come, and it seemed as if the door leading back to the dungeons wasn't there anymore. We walked all around the floor, completely disoriented. I had known that Hogwarts had thousands of secret passageways, floors, stairways, and such that only appeared now and then. I just wondered how Charlotte and I managed to stumble upon one of them. I also wondered how we were going to get ourselves out of it.

"This one," Charlotte said, pointing to a door. "I think this is the one that we came in from. I remember the marks on the wall."

I shrugged willing to try anything. "All right." I opened the door, and we stepped through it, only to find ourselves in a long, dark corridor that seemed to lead nowhere.

"I don't think that this where we want to be going…" Bronte said, warily.

"Me neither. Come on, let's go back."

We turned around apprehensively, but and opened the door. Before we could open it all the way, though, we heard Peeves' cackling as he slammed the door shut, locking it. I tried to turn the handle, and so did Bronte, but we were stuck.

"Alohomora!" I whispered, pointing my wand at it. Nothing. The door wouldn't budge.

"Oh, no, what are we going to do?" Charlotte moaned. It sounded to me as if there were tears behind her voice, but I tried to ignore them.

"HELP!!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, banging on the door. Charlotte helped, banging on the door until we were hoarse. I wondered if anyone would find us. We didn't even know how we got here, how was someone else going to get here?

*

Thump.

"Help."

Thump.

"Help."

Charlotte and I were both slumped on the ground against the wall. We had been screaming for a long time, and it seemed as if we'd been sitting for even longer. Both of our wands were illuminated, but we couldn't see down the corridor. We had decided (yes, we'd agreed) that it would be best to stay put. Once we didn't come back to Snape, and we weren't in dinner, or the common room, then people should start to worry.

Thump.

"Help."

"This is getting old," Charlotte said. "I hope that your mother can find us."

"Of course she can!" I told her. "Mum can do anything. That's assuming that she notices I'm gone, what with Jack around."

"Yes, I think she can," Bronte agreed, ignoring that last part. "Your little brother is pretty cute." I assumed that she was trying to pass the time, or make the best of the situation. I didn't think that she was actually interested in Jack, or that she really wanted to be nice to me.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Pause.

"That was rather…half-hearted," she said. "Don't you like Jack?"

"Well, yeah…I mean, he is my brother and all. I kind of…have to like him, don't I?" Charlotte chuckled a bit then, and I continued. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No," she said, rather sadly. "I'm an only child. I wish I had a sister."

"Why?" I asked her. "Want Emily?"

She laughed again. "Come on, Weasley, it can't be all that bad."

"Oh, no!" I said. "Oh, no, it is that bad." I laughed along with her. "I think that something's up with Jack, though." I didn't know why I was telling her this.

"Something's up? What do you mean?"

"Something about him…I can't put my finger on it; almost like I've seen him before. And I have this feeling that Mum wasn't telling me the whole truth about him, you know? Like on Halloween, when we walked in on Uncle Harry, Uncle Sirius, Mum and Dad in the staff room. They weren't telling us what they were doing, but it was obvious that something was wrong. It's like…Mum didn't tell me half of what really is going on with Jack, but she's acting like everything's fine."

"Sounds like a mystery."

"It is!" I exclaimed, jumping up and making her flinch at my abruptness. "It is! Charlotte, are you any good at mysteries?"

She nodded.

"Good. Maybe you can help me, then, because James doesn't get it."

"I'll try," she said with a shrug.

*

"Don't take this the wrong way, or anything," Charlotte said, "but who's to say that Professor Delacour is the one doing the double-crossing? There are quite a few scenarios to choose from. Perhaps she's a double agent for the Ministry and she's working with your parents? Or, perhaps she's double-crossing your parents, like you think. Did you ever think that your parents might be the double agents, or that they're double-crossing the Ministry?"

"My parents?"

"Well, you can't rule out the possibilities. I agree, it's incredibly far-fetched. Your parents worked so hard to destroy the dark side; why would they help it come to power again? But that doesn't mean that we can't consider it.

"To be honest, though," she continued, "I don't think that Jack has anything to do with it. I think that you're just desperate for ties, and he was an easy choice. I don't see how he could fit in. Frankly, though, I don't see how any of it fits together, so maybe Jack could be involved. Still, Landon, you can't let your…erm…personal feelings towards your brother get in the way.

"Also, why would your parents be working for the Ministry? Why are their services needed? I also don't think that Death Eaters are all that they're worried about; it has to go deeper. Death Eaters wouldn't attack Hogwarts; there's too few of them; they'd all be killed. And, no matter what the number, they wouldn't attack as long as Dumbledore's here. If You-Know-Who was afraid of him, then the Death Eaters must be.

"I do think that you may be onto something, though. I mean, it almost…almost makes sense if you think about it hard enough that you're half delusional. I'm only kidding! But I'm sick of talking about this; it's giving me a headache."

Pauses such as these were becoming a regular component in my "friendship" (?) with Bronte lately.

"How long do you think that we've been in here?" I asked.

She looked down at her watch, and picked up her wand so she could better see. I wondered how she was planning on figuring it out; we had no idea about when we left the classroom in the first place. And anyway, it was a rhetorical question. Leave it to Bronte to take me seriously.

"At least three hours," she said with a yawn as she set her wand back on the floor. "Dinner ended half an hour ago, I'm sure that James will have realized that we've not turned up."

"Maybe not," I said, yawning as well. "You know James, after all."

She chuckled a bit. "Yeah. I'm tired."

"Me too."

"And hungry."

"Me too."

"And cold."

"I'm not."

"Oh."

"Here," I said, taking off my cloak. I had a Weasley jumper on underneath; there was no way that I would be cold wearing a Weasley jumper.

"Thanks."

I hoped that she wouldn't take it to personally. It's not like I gave her my cloak because I liked her, or anything. If I had liked her, I would have…you know, offered to put my arm around her or something. I would have done that if Fiona were in here with me. I did hang around with James, after all. I just didn't want to hear her complain about being cold. I hate being cold, because it hurts after awhile. I know all about being cold for a long period of time. One time, Mum and Dad were out at an Awards Ceremony, and Emily and I decided to tie up our babysitter and steal her wand so we could go outside and play in the rain. We didn't realize that the door would lock behind us, or that we couldn't get inside until Mum and Dad got home four hours later. From then on, they left us with Grandmum and Grandpa Weasley.

But anyway, I would much rather have Fiona here, now. Nice, romantic atmosphere (or at least I could make it that way), kind of chilly, dark…blimey, I've been hanging around James too long.

Of course, it really wasn't too bad being stuck in here with Bronte. I mean, sure, she did talk a lot, but that wasn't too bad. At least it passed the time, and I didn't focus on how hungry and tired I was.

Fiona was prettier though. Her hair wasn't boring brown; it was blond, and a lovely blond indeed. Her eyes were…all right, so Bronte had better eyes. But…but Fiona was just…better.

Thump.

"Help."

*

"Landon?"

"Mm?"

"Can I go to sleep?"

"Sure."

"Positive?"

"Sure. I'll go to sleep when you wake up."

I had firmly decided not to go to sleep at the same time as Charlotte. If people were going to come look for us, I wanted them to know where we were.

Bronte was peaceful when she slept. Nothing like the horror that she was during the day, that was for sure. I noticed that one of her curls fell in front of her face. She sleepily pushed it out of the way and sighed. In fact, when she slept…she was almost…pretty.

No! No! No! No!

Charlotte Bronte, mortal enemy, and yet…confidant… was not pretty! OK, so maybe she was. But there was no way that I would ever tell her that. Hours seemed to pass (they didn't seem, I was looking at Charlotte's watch), and finally, I was so tired that I nudged Charlotte awake. She smacked me in the nose, but apologized when she realized that it was me.

"I want to go to sleep now," I told her.

"Then sleep," she said, lying back down.

"I can't while you're asleep. You've slept long enough; it's my turn. Stay awake in case anyone comes, all right?"

"I hate you," she said, as she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

I pulled off my jumper and used it as a pillow and drifted into sleep…only to open my eyes two seconds later. Bloody hell, I couldn't sleep. I tried to bore myself with thinking of James' reaction when we got out of here. 'You got stuck in a broom closet? That's pathetic! Wait…you were stuck in a broom closet with Charlotte? Did you score, man?' Never mind that we were only eleven.

In fact, once a rather amused Professor Dumbledore found us, James' reaction was quite what I had expected. Only he was rather jealous that I was the one who 'spent the night' (I let him think whatever he wanted to) with Charlotte.

I wasn't expecting Charlotte's reaction, though. The next night, when we had to serve our first detention (clean the entire dungeon- no magic), she dipped her hand in the soapy bucket and flicked water at me in the last classroom that we had to clean.

"Sorry, Weasley, you looked kind of dirty. All those freckles on your face…I thought that they were dirt, for a moment, there. So sorry."

"I'm not the only one with freckles," I said, splashing a large amount of water on her. She sputtered indignantly, and then (I could practically see the gears turning. It was weird) she figured that this was the last classroom, so she might as well. She picked up the bucket and dumped it on my head, all the while laughing hysterically.

"What was that for?" I asked her.

"Retribution."

"All right."

Then she did something that was rather unexpected (even more than the bucket). She stuck out her hand for me to shake.

"Friends?" she asked, rather timidly.

I studied her for a moment. What the hell? I shook her hand.

"Friends."

AN: Aw, they're friends now! How cute! I have decided that while working up to the climax of this story, I need more Landon/Charlotte interaction, so that is what I was trying to achieve in this chapter. I hope that you liked it.

Also, Jack is not some random character that I felt like adding. He is very significant, and I fell in love with him the instant that I came up with the idea of adding another Weasley (but I couldn't make Hermione pregnant, it would ruin the story). So I came up with this rather twisted way to add him in…and another plot twist!

Does he have anything to do with this 'mystery'?

What is the mystery that Landon is trying to solve, anyway? Will he ever figure it out?

Hmmm…

Hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

WeeIrishLass