There was growing concern at the judges stand. The two Hogwarts boys, who together were the unauthorized 'Fourth Champion', had disappeared fifteen minutes ago from inside the hedge maze that was the site of the third task of the Triwizard tournament. That in of itself was not a problem - the goblet was a portkey, after all. But it should have brought them straight to the judges. Instead, nothing happened - they had not appeared.
Albus Dumbledore was trying to project confidence as he quietly sent Alistar and McGonagall to investigate. So far the spectators were talking amongst themselves, discussing what had happening, but there was no panic. Yet.
As Dumbledore looked back towards the stands, he saw the Potters leaving their seats, followed by several others, including a Weasley – they would no doubt accost him momentarily. Albus sighed. It seemed like time had run out, and he would have to make an announcement.
Just as he cast the Sonorous charm, there was a whirling in the air, and the Goblet arrived, with a bloody Ron Weasley clutching on to it for dear life.
"What happened?" Albus asked.
"He's back. Voldemort is back," Ron gasped out.
"What about my son? Where is Harry?" Lilly Potter ran up.
"He killed him."
"Who?" James demanded
"Voldemort. He killed Harry."
Hermione had been just a few steps behind the Potters when Ron made his pronouncement, and she felt her knees go weak. Harry had been there because of her. It was her responsibility! "Ron, where is Harry? You were partners. Bringing him back was your job!"
"They attacked, I couldn't. Voldemort.. I ran, but Harry… I had no time – they were everywhere!"
"Ron, concentrate. Where did this happen?" James grabbed Ron's shoulders, trying to get him to focus.
"I don't know. I don't know," Ron started crying.
"Please give the boy some room, he is clearly in shock," Madam Pomfrey finally arrived. "Let me get a calming drought into him, but until then, give me some space please."
\*/
It was a good half hour before Ron was able to give a coherent account of what had happened. He described the ritual that Voldemort used to recreate his body, and how he escaped due to Voldemort's hubris. Minister Fudge spent the whole time scowling. He would have been muttering denials that it was actually Voldemort, but having the father of the dead boy, a prominent Auror, by his side, curtailed that. After all, what did it matter if it was the real thing or some copy-cat? The man's child was equally dead.
When they finally managed to get the details out of the Weasley boy, James turned to Albus, "Do you know where this graveyard is?"
Albus nodded sadly, "it's at Little Hangelton."
"Come on!" James snagged Sirius and the two apparated away for Headquarters, to make use of the dispatch room.
They came back an hour later to the judges stand, which had become the operational control center for this disaster, to report.
Sirius looked haggard, "There were clear signs of spell fire on several of the tombstones, and there were footprints everywhere - the turf was badly torn up. We couldn't find Harry or any physical evidence of what transpired there, but there were several large burn marks on the ground. One was obviously from the cauldron that Ron described, but one of the others was off to the side – it was big enough for a body."
He turned towards where James was holding Lilly and went to stand with them.
\*/
Hermione shambled into her room at her home like a zombie. She had not spoken much since her mother had picked her up from King's Cross station.
"Are you ok?" Her mother asked as she helped carry her luggage up. She knew that the answer was 'no', but what she was really asking was, 'Do you want to talk about it?' But ever since her daughter had started doing magic, and going to that boarding school, she felt like their connection had become tenuous. Like she might turn around one day and completely forget Hermione existed.
"I… no, I'm not," Hermione took a deep breath, "Remember my friend Ron?"
Her mother nodded – that was the boy that Hermione liked. She took a seat next to her daughter on the bed and tentatively put her arm around her and waited for her to continue.
"He got entered into a dangerous competition. I don't know how, and neither does he, but he had to compete in three tasks. He got hurt after the first one, so I asked Harry – Harry Potter, he's another boy in out year. He's pretty smart and very helpful - he helps everybody. I asked him to help Ron, and he did – he managed to switch with him for the second task, but then something went wrong with the magic ritual and they ended up both having to to do the last one together." A sob broke lose from Hermione, "and Harry died."
"Don't blame yourself, sweetheart." Her mother enveloped her in a hug. "Sit, and tell me all about it."
"Who else am I supposed to blame? If it wasn't for me, Harry wouldn't have been there!"
"But you weren't trying to get him hurt. You did your best to help Ron. For all you know, if you hadn't done that, Ron would have ended up getting killed."
Hermione scowled, "Thanks mom, that makes me feel so much better." So she had traded the life of one of the nicest people she knew for the life of a guy she liked. That just made her feel even worse – it was the sort of thing that the bad guys did.
Her mother sighed. They both knew that she wasn't as smart as Hermione, which made it difficult sometimes to get her to listen to (and respect) her words. "Hermione, we all make the best choices we can. And they sometimes have unexpected consequences. If we hadn't sent you to Hogwarts, you wouldn't have met either Harry or Ron, and then who know what would have happened? We do the best we can, from moment to moment."
Hermione nodded, "Ok, but I think I want to be alone for a bit."
\*/
"Alistar, can I have a moment of your time? I would like to discuss where you were during the Third Task." The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was just heading upstairs to his classroom when he saw Albus Dumbledore approaching, flanked by Snape and McGonagall. Something in their posture was off. They were walking too far apart, and two of them already had their wands out.
The erstwhile professor turned to run, changing direction and leaping down the stairs like a man half his age, but too no avail. Before he could get to cover he was hit by multiple stunning spells.
Albus sighed. Ever since the disaster, he had been going over the events surrounding the Third Task with a fine toothed come, relying on his pensive when his memory failed him. Alistar's absence for most of the task had been noteworthy.
"Severus, do you you have the veritaserum?" It wouldn't be admissible in court, but he had to know what had happened to his friend and discover what other dangers his students might be facing.
\*/
It was less than a week into summer and Neville was at a loss as to what to do. Mom and dad – it seemed wrong to refer to them as Lilly and James now - were busy arranging Harry's memorial service, and there was nothing around the house that he wanted to do. Everything was tinged with Harry.
Flying? Harry's broom was right next to his own.
Hanging out with friends? The weren't his friends – they were both his and Harry's friends.
He was sitting at his desk, getting a start on his summer homework (though even that felt pointless, as mom was making noises about sending him to Salem Academy, in the States).
Tap tap
Neville looked up to see a strange owl tapping on the window by his desk.
He let it in and gave it an owl treat before taking the the letter off of its leg.
Hello Neville,
I have something I need to discuss with you. Please meet me at Fortescue's at 1pm today.
It was signed "Daphne Greengrass".
Neville quirked an eyebrow. The Slytherin girl was the last person he expected to get a letter from. And an invitation to meet on such such short notice – it must be something important. He glanced at his clock – it was 11am. He had plenty of time to Floo over to the Diagon Ally.
He jotted a quick note for Lilly – mom – and made sure that his hair was combed before throwing a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace.
He arrived at Fortescue's a good fifteen minutes early, but Daphne was already there, a half finished butterbeer on the table and a book in her hand.
"Hello, Greengrass." He slid into the seat opposite her. "So what was it that you had to tell me in such a rush?"
Daphne carefully put her book down, making sure the bookmark was firmly in place.
"The new Cherry Chocolate Swamp ice cream here is really very exceptional." She stood up and headed inside the store, towards the counter.
Neville followed after her, "And?" Was she waiting for something before telling him? Was there some sort of password that he was supposed to have gleaned from her letter?
"That is it. I expected that you would be suffering from melancholy at this point, so I invited you out for ice cream." Daphne quickly stifled the incipient smirk at the success of her plan, because Neville would misconstrue a smile at his juncture.
"By acting all mysterious?"
"Would you have come otherwise?"
"Probably not," Neville admitted as he got into line next to Daphne, "But what made you think I would be able to make it out here on such short notice?
"I have faith in your abilities." Now the smirk escaped her control.
Neville snorted. They didn't talk again until they had their ice creams. "So why all this? We aren't exactly friends, so why go to all this effort to cheer me up?"
"You and Harry are good people. You take care of your friends, and even help those you don't like, such as Weasley (the annoying one). And Harry helped my friend Tracy out of a bad situation."
Neville shrugged, "He had made a deal with you, so he had to."
"Or what? I would report him to the teachers? Or I could point my finger at him and yell 'liar, liar pants on fire'? The only thing forcing him to help was his own sense of honor. And you're always helping out Luna, even though it makes you appear quixotic and annoys some of your friends… I like that."
"Huh. Ok." Neville wasn't certain what to say. Daphne was definitely on an another level compared to him when it came to understanding and communicating with people. "You want to walk around while we eat our ice creams?
"Yes, I would enjoy that."
As they walked out of the shop, Neville noticed the front page of the Prophet at the neighboring newsstand. "Hold up a moment." He scanned it quickly. "Ron's going to be pissed." He sighed in exasperation. The headline read 'Boy Who Lived Demented?" And went on to question whether Ron's assertions that he was attacked by Voldemort were the effects of him being hit by a dark curse from a group of cultists worshiping 'You Know Who', and described the whole incident as a deranged action of a desperate few of Voldemort's followers who had refused to accept that he was gone for good.
"Do you think it's true?" Daphne momentarily took Neville's arm to steer him away from the newsstand.
"I don't know – Ron has always been a glory hound, but I saw him when he came back - he was in no shape to make stuff up. He was barely able to recite what he saw."
Daphne 'hmmed,' before steering them towards safer shores, conversationally and physically.
\*/
"Hello?" Ginny knocked on the frame of the screen door – the main door was open to let in some air on the warm July day. "Is anybody home?"
"Come in," Lilly replied, drying her hands. "You must be looking for Neville. He's out right now, but I will tell him you came by."
"Um, yeah. I actually came by to find out about the memorial service for Harry." Ginny shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. She had heard her father mention it in passing. But he hadn't known the details. And Ginny had needed to get out of the house anyways – she was going stir crazy (like she did every summer). But this summer was worse than most.
And she wanted an excuse to see where Harry grew up. This was her last chance - with him gone, there wouldn't be any excuse to visit.
"Take a seat, I have some biscuits," Lilly brought out a jar of fresh baked cookies and a pot of tea. One of the few advantages of working as a school administrator was that she could take the afternoons off during the summer. "Were you close with Harry?" As a teenager, Harry hadn't really talked a lot about his life, and so Lilly saw this as opportunity to learn about what her son had been like at school.
"We were friends. Just friends. He helped a lot of people, so he had a lot of friends. Like Luna – he and Neville made it a project this year to rescue her from being bullied. They weren't very good at it, but they made Luna feel like people cared about her – Luna is my neighbor, by the way, she's really socially awkward." Ginny knew that she was rambling, but it was hard to focus. She just kept thinking of all the things she had done with Harry. Or worse, things she had planned to do. They never did have that broom race through the Forbidden Forest.
Lilly nodded. When Ginny fell quiet, she added, "Harry was always like that – he and Neville listened to too many of my husband's stories of fighting crime and arresting dark wizards. They both grew up trying to be heroes to everybody."
Ginny swallowed convulsively and nodded.
Lilly sighed, "we will be having a memorial service at the end of July, on what would have been his fifteenth birthday."
"Did they.. ever find the body?"
Lilly shook her head no, surreptitiously wiping tears away from the corners of her eyes.
Ginny Weasley did not cry – that was for old women and flighty over-emotional airheads. But she blinked quickly a couple of times. "Ok. I, um, should go. Thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Potter."
"Do you want to stay and chat for a bit?"
"I… ok." There was nothing for her to do at home, and she had nowhere else to go.
\*/
"Ron, I think you should go to the memorial for Harry," Hermione was visiting the Burrow. It was her first time doing so – she had met most of Ron's family already either at King's Cross station or at Hogwarts, but this was different somehow. Spending the week at Ron's house felt very mature and a little risque. She was kind of surprised that her parents had agreed to it. But they usually agreed to her requests – she had long ago learned that they found well reasoned, logical arguments impossible to refuse. Her parents prided themselves on being intellectual and progressive. And they also prided themselves on how mature and logical their daughter was. They took it as an article of faith that she wouldn't mess around with boys.
Though right now, 'messing around' was the furthest thing from her mind. She still felt like an awful person for what she had allowed to happen to Harry. Not that she would ever mention it to anybody – it was her job to help people, not to be the one getting helped.
"I don't know – we weren't really friends, were we? Neville will just get pissed that I'm there." Ron was helping his dad by doing the dishes.
"Don't be like that," Hermione replied, exasperated. "He got involved with that stupid contest because he was trying to save your life."
"So I owe him?'
"I didn't say that. All I meant was that he did think of you as a friend."
"He helped everybody," Ron replied obstinately before giving a long suffering sigh. "Fine, I'll go." He racked another plate. "After I'm done, you want to play quidditch with us?" He had been trying to teach Hermione the basics of the game, "We'll do a 2 on 2, chasers only."
Hermione forced a sickly smile. She hated flying. "I'll try, but I can't promise I'll by any good." But if Ron was going to unbend enough to go to Harry's memorial, it was incumbent on her to reciprocate by trying something that she wasn't comfortable with. Hermione had not yet learned that applying logic to emotion responses could be a recipe for disaster.
"That's ok – we can do boys verses girls. Ginny's pretty good." Ron strategized, trying to balance skill levels but completely oblivious to Hermione's discomfort.
\*/
"You know, there are several kinds of trees that require forest fires in order to germinate their seeds." Luna mentioned as she and Ginny worked in her kitchen, baking. The two girls had been very close when they were younger, but in the last few years their interests had diverged. Ginny was athletic and (rashly) adventurous, while Luna had become increasingly studious and had became fascinated with looking for answers to things that Ginny didn't even realize were in question, ranging from nesting habits of common pests to the (potential) existence of mythical creatures. One of the few hobbies that they both still shared was baking (though for Ginny, the greater appeal was in eating the resulting cookies).
"What?" Ginny often had trouble following what Luna was saying. And right now she wasn't really paying attention to her friend. She wasn't really in the mood to socialize, but her dad had already chewed her out for climbing onto the roof today. It was only four stories up - her dad was more than a little overprotective. (Which was also why he refused to let her go wandering out of sight of the house, claiming that the situation in the wizarding world was too dangerous right now. She was almost 14, for goodness sakes!)
And she couldn't stay inside any longer. Ever since the Prophet article had come out, smearing him and calling him deluded, Ron had been driving her mad with all of his raving about how the Skeeter woman wasn't returning his calls, and how she was betraying his trust, etc, etc. He had taken a break from it when Hermione had come over for her week-long visit, but now he was making up for lost time.
Luna shaped her batter into a fanciful shape that was more likely to burn in the oven than bake. "People assume that forest fires are really bad for trees, but they aren't, really. Not for all trees."
Ginny mind ticked over as she puzzled out what Luna was getting at. "Are you saying that Harry's dying is somehow a good thing?" Ginny voice rose to an almost scream.
Luna hunched in on herself, "I.. Harry was my friend. One of my best friends, but tragedy is part of life. Even the phoenix has to die."
Ginny slammed the dough down into the mixing bowel and stormed out of the Lovegood house, not even bothering to wipe the batter off of her hands.
\*/
Sirius stormed into James' office. "The forensic wizards have identified the hair we found in Alecto's apartment – it was Bellatrix."
James sat quietly for a moment, a cold fury building within. The Weasley boy had said that it was Bellatrix that had cast the Killing Curse. They had missed the witch that had murdered his son by mere hours. "Lets bring them in. Both of them." He meant the Carrows – the DMLE had released them, claiming that there was insufficient evidence to charge them for what happened at the Quidditch World Cup.
Sirius nodded and went to get his gear as James ran to the department head to get a warrant issued and put together a team.
It was a sign of how much the Ministry feared Bellatrix that he had both inside of an hour.
\*/
The Carrow residence was at the end of a winding dead-end lane which was overshadowed by oaks. It was a calm, bucolic day, and the fact that the house was not in the best condition – it had some moss growing from the gutters, and the bushes were being strangled by ivy – did not detract from that.
Amycus was just finishing a letter to one of his friends on the continent when his apparition ward chimed. He immediately grabbed his wand and looked out the window– he wasn't expecting any visitors.
He could just see a red headed man disappear behind one of the oaks. Amycus apparated outside. Or he tried to – the spell failed. His eyes widened as he ran for the floo. "Alecto, we're being raided!"
"Who?"
"I don't know." The Aurors would never dare, especially after that failed attempt by James Potter and his lapdog. He threw floo powder into the fireplace, but the flames stayed red. He felt the house wards shudder, and a moment later there was the sound of multiple apparitions.
"Aurors! Open up! We have a warrant for your arrest!"
"They tried this before, and they had to let us go. They have nothing on us. And this time we will bring charges against them for harassment and see to it that they are driven out of the Ministry," Alecto reassured her brother as she adjusted her dress and went to open the front door. She was a member of a respected Noble house. She was almost to the door when the door was hit with an Aperta curse, dissolving it into a sparkle of gray lights.
"On, the floor, hands behind your head!" A masked Auror roared as another Auror burst through the opening, crouching under the cover of an umbrella stand while two more stood under partial cover in the doorway. He was also masked.
"Do you know who I.." was all she managed before she was hit by a stunning curse.
Amycus bowels churned – he was a pureblood, and the Aurors couldn't get away with treating him like this, but apparantly they didn't know that. If he didn't appease them, they might not find out before they injured him. He carefully raised his hands and placed them on his head before slowly lowering himself to the floor. A spell hit him, making his hair grow and tangle his hands together in a gordian knot. There was no way to get his hands out without a counter spell.
"Is there anybody else in your house?" Demanded another Auror.
Also masked.
"No, of course not," he managed. He had never before seen Aurors come in wearing masks. A thread of worry wormed its way into his self confidence: How would he know who to apply pressure on? Without leverage, it would be much more difficult to get the 'fair' treatment that he deserved. He would have to rely on the court of his peers, like a commoner!
"If we find any fugitives, it will be worse for you unless you come clean right now." Now Amycus' bowels turned to ice - he recognized the voice: it belonged to James Potter. He swallowed compulsively. It was his boy that Bellatrix had killed. This could be bad. "There is nobody." His voice squeaked.
James nodded. "Tell Weasley to bring his team in. They can work in parallel with Forensics." He turned back to Amycus, "why don't you save us some time and tell us where you keep your cursed items. Otherwise Weaselly and his people from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts will tear your house apart. And before you get any smart ideas, we borrowed a top curse breaker from Gringotts – he's going to take down every ward and spell you have. You're going to have to replace every kitchen appliance and every house ward after he's done. And I bet some of those were put up generations ago, and will cost several thousand Galleons to replace."
Amycus swallowed again, "We have.. we have some family heirlooms in the safe in my study."
James turned to the team from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, "you hear that? Start in the office, and then take the rest of the house apart, stick by stick.
\*/
"Hey, that's a new look for you," Neville commented.
Daphne nodded, "you said we're going out into Muggle London, so I don't have to dress to conform to exacting pureblood expectations." She was wearing a bright yellow sun dress with daisies on it. It was the sort of thing Neville would have expected Luna to wear, rather than the typically somber Slytherin. Though they had gotten together several times over the summer, and he had come to learn that she wasn't quite as sever as she tried to appear.
"Well, it looks good on you."
Daphne smiled at the compliment.
They walked amicably down the street for some ways, not talking, as they took in the sights of muggle London. Finally, Neville spoke up, "I thought we would go take in a muggle movie. There is one about a lion that's supposed to be good, even though technically it's a kids movie."
Daphne shrugged her acceptance. She was not familiar with anything muggle.
They were almost to the theater when Neville couldn't keep it in anymore. "I'm not coming back to Hogwarts in the fall," he blurted out. "My parents have enrolled me in Salem Academy, in Oregon. That's in the States."
He paused, but when Daphne didn't say anything, he continued. "Which makes sense, I guess. Being at Hogwarts without Harry would be hard. And all the rumors that are circulating.." He glanced nervously over at the girl, hoping that she wouldn't take this as a rejection of some sort. Logically, she shouldn't, but girls were weird.
Neville wasn't certain what else he could say on the topic – he and Daphne never discussed Voldemort or anything political, as each suspected that the other would disagree with their family's positions. "But it's going to suck starting all over in a different school where I don't know anybody."
"Would it be ok if I write to you once in a while?"
Neville sighed in relief, "Yeah, that would be great! But I feel like I'm getting the better end of the deal."
Daphne gave a small smile, "Slytherin is a political rat's nest. Everybody is in a hierarchy of some sort, usually several. And every action is weighed for its political benefit. I… I've found a way to succeed, but it make it hard for me to make friends. I'm close with Tracy, but that's only because we grew up together – her father works for my father. Having somebody outside the school I can just TALK to would be wonderful."
Neville smiled, "Then it's a deal!" He never considered that Daphne had just pushed his 'helping people' button with laser-like precision.
\*/
"Are we all here?" Albus asked.
"Everybody who said that the were coming," Alistar agreed. He was still not completely recovered from his ordeal, but he was getting better day by day. It just took so frustratingly long to heal at his age.
"In that case I call the first meeting of the reconstituted Order of the Phoenix to order." Albus smiled to see so many familiar faces. It was unfortunate that they had to be meeting in such circumstances, but it had been too long since he had seen them all in one place. "All of you know what we're about – you were with us when last England was threatened by Voldemort. Unfortunately, it seems like he has returned."
"How is that possible?" This was from Amos Diggory.
"That is something I will endeavor to discover, but for now it is sufficient to know that he has indeed returned, and that the threat he poses is very much real. Like before, we will try to discover everything we can about his operations and bring it to the attention of the ministry."
"I don't think the ministry is as prepared to act as it was last time," Sirius interrupted, "There is a lot of pressure on the Aurors to downplay any Death Eater activity – we've been told to refer to them as 'imitators' or copycats."
"At least they are holding the Carrows, for now." James scowled. "But that's only because they never had any politically connected friends."
"And because we dug up so much dirt that they can bury them under it." Sirius gave James a thumbs up and a cocky grin, so that even his dour fried was forced to break a smile.
"Be that as it may, the first order of business will be to bring in some new members." Albus nodded to the only two that had been vouched for as yet – Arthur's oldest son Bill, and Alistar's apprentice Nymphadora Tonks.
As the meeting slogged through logistics – where to meet, and when, Tonks turned to Bill. 'Wotcher. Nice to meet you official-like."
"Likewise. And this gives me an opportunity to show that I'm not some creepy stalker perving on underage girls."
Tonks guffawed, interrupting the discussion momentarily. "Seriously? You're still worried about that?"
"I didn't want you to have the wrong impression of me."
"Fine, you want a chance to make a new impression, how about you join me at my pub for dinner?"
Bill smiled, "Suits me." He looked up to see the meeting breaking up. "Erm, did we miss anything?"
"Probably not. I'll ask Alistar and let you know. 6pm, Lost Niffler Pub, off of Watling. Be there!" She gave a wave and left.
\*/
Hermione wandered through the rented function hall, feeling out of place. She had arrived early, as was her won't, but the only people here were adults she didn't know. She tugged gently tugged on her dress, adjusting it slightly so that it wasn't quite so uncomfortable. 'I hate black.'
Well, there were some people here that she did know - at the front of the room, by the coffin were the Potters and a few others chatting quietly, but she didn't feel right intruding on them.
"Hermione. Thank Merlin you're here!" Ron rushed over to her as soon as he stumbled out of the Floo.
"You came!" Hermione beamed.
"Yeah. You were right. I would be a total heel if I didn't."
Before Hermione could think of a response, both floos started flaring, and guests started arriving in surprising numbers, including a fair number of Hogwarts students. Most came with their parents, but not all – Daphne Greengrass and her perpetual shadow Tracy arrived on their own.
"We should find our seats."
"Come join us," Ron led the way to where his father was getting seated with George, Ginny, Luna and Bill.
\*/
"My condolences about your son," Lucius Malfoy stopped James in the hallway as he was heading for the DMLE. "I heard about what happened. I will personally see to it that Barty Crouch never works in England again."
James' lips pressed together as he nodded. Lucius was a suspected Voldemort sympathizer but nevertheless James sensed that he was honestly sympathetic, and not just being his usual political self. He was a father as well, after all.
"Thank you, but there is no need to go that far with Barty. Let's trust in the legal process to deal with him." James had filed a complaint with the Ministry. He didn't think it would actually get Couch fired, but he didn't think that Harry's murder was his fault. Crouch just needed to be taken down a peg for negligence. James wasn't one to scapegoat people – while there was plenty of blame to go around, the lions share was on Bellatrix.
\*/
The rain ride back to Hogwarts was.. strange. There was no other way to describe it. Ginny sat with Luna, but the atmosphere was much more subdued without Harry or Neville.
'Was the memorial service the last time I see Neville?' She hadn't been as close with him as with Harry, but he was still one of her few friends. And now he was gone, attending Salem Academy (somewhere in Boston? She wasn't even certain where it was). Chances were, their paths wouldn't cross again.
As they were pulling out of the station, Draco came by and poked his noes into their compartment. He took a long look, glancing all over, even crouching down to look under the benched. Finally, Ginny couldn't stand it. "What are you looking for, Malfoy?"
"Just seeing if the Potters are hiding in the luggage rack or something." He smirked
"If you want a beating, I can oblige you in their absence!"
Draco ignored the comment, "I'll almost miss them. Almost!" He leered at her before leaving.
"I believe Draco was improperly named," Luna commented. "He is not an apex predator. A more appropriate name would have been Flobbo."
The door slid open again before Ginny could reply, and she was just about to leap to feet and plant her fist in Draco's face when Hermione was revealed. "Uhm, do you mind if we join you?" Standing behind her, looking awkward, was Ron.
Ginny sighed, "Sure." Like she hadn't seen way too much of her brother over the summer. But turning them away would be rude.
"Ron was telling me that you had Dementors stalking you?" Hermione asked as she took a seat opposite Ginny. Ron glanced at his options – sit next to his sister, or sit next to Hermione and have Ginny assume things. He sat down next to Hermione.
"I don't know if they were stalking us, but there were several sighting. We had to spend all of August locked inside the house, just in case." And hadn't that been a joy. She and Ron had almost killed each other.
Ron's constant self-aggrandizement had always annoyed her, but this summer his deflecting any responsibility over what happened with Harry made her furious enough that she wanted to punch him. Only the fact that George was there, smoothing things over, prevented them getting into a brawl.
Luna shrugged, "It was not a problem for me - Daddy had wanted to teach me about the birds and the bowtruckles for awhile, so we went to the Scandinavian Dragon Reserve."
"What do the birds and bowtruckles have to do with dragons?" Ron asked. Hermione looked confused as well, but she wasn't ready to admit that she didn't know something (at least not in front of Ron).
"Nothing. The birds and bowtruckles are metaphorical. The dragons, however, were in rut." Luna elucidated.
Even Ginny turned a bright red at this casualness pronouncement. Luna then nonchalantly picked up her copy of the Quibbler and opened it to the page she had been reading. "It was quite informative."
"Anyway, have you heard anything from Dumbledore about Voldemort?" Hermione quickly changed the subject.
"No. Dad is in the Order of the Phoenix, but he still won't tell me anything. Says that I'm too young! He can't keep sheltering me like that, I'm the Boy Who Lived!" Ron expounded.
"Once we're back, you can talk to Dumbledore, maybe ask him for extra defense training." Hermione was worried that Voldemort would target Ron again, and that he wouldn't be able to protect himself.
"That would be so cool! You're going to have to teach us what he shows you!" Ginny caroled, momentarily forgetting that her brother annoyed her with his sheer presence.
The conversation finally started to flow as the four teens adjusted to the new dynamic.
\*/
The following weeks gave the lie to Hermione words – not only did Professor Dumbledore not provide any additional training, but he seemed to withdraw in the face of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor – Doloros Umbridge, or as Ginny called her, 'that useless toad that is dumber than roadkill'.
It was Thursday evening as Ginny slunk into the Gryffindor common room, having just finished serving her third detention with the cow. This time, she had had to write lines with a blood quill. She threw herself into the recliner next to where Hermione was studying.
"We need to do something about The Toad."
Hermione looked up, "You're right. She's not teaching us anything, and those of us that have our OWLs this year will end up failing. We should organize a study group or something."
"Yeah, that too." Actually, Ginny had been visualizing something more along the lines of eviscerating The Toad and and strangling her with her own entrails. But Hermione would probably look at her like there was something wrong with her and send her to Madam Pomfrey for a calming drought if she mentioned it. 'If Harry was here, he would understand.'
Ginny hid her scarred hand as she sat up. "How do you want to do it? Do you want to put up a notice on the bulletin board?" Ginny had never done something like this, but Hermione had experience organizing her SPEW.
"I don't think Umbridge will take kindly to us undermining her authority like that. I think we should invite people in person. We have a Hogsmeade weekend coming up - let's call a meeting then. We can meet up at the Hog's Head – it will be less crowded than the Three Broomsticks."
"Ok."
There was a pause before Hermione added, "Um, do you mind being the one to talk to the other students? For some reason I get a negative response whenever I try."
Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Yeah, that sounds about right.' Hermione's only friend was Ron, and given the poor response to her previous organizational attempt, she was probably scared of being rejected again. "Ask Ron to invite the fifth years – they will listen better to him than to me." Which wasn't saying much.
\*/
The meeting in the Hogs Head was well attended – they got over a dozen students, mostly fifth years stressing about their OWLS. The only ones who weren't were Luna and a pair of Chasers from the Gryffindor team who were friends with Ginny.
The large cluster of students stood out in the ill-lit taproom, which was otherwise mostly empty this early in the afternoon, with just a couple of older wizards chatting at the bar as they knocked back large flagons of beer, and a witch eating her lunch at a side table.
"So who's going to be running this study group?" Terry Boot asked.
"I was thinking we could get one of the older students to tutor us. Maybe we can ask Cho Chang?" Hermione replied – Cho was a Ravenclaw prefect. Secretly, Hermione wished she was more like that girl. Not only was she smart, but she was also pretty and popular.
"No!" Ginny retorted – she still had a grudge against Cho for how she had treated Luna, "I'll ask my brother."
"No way! I'm not being lectured at by the Boy Who Preened!"
"I meant my other brother, George. He's a seventh year 'Puff, and while he's smart, I don't think he's planning to take his NEWTs, so he's going to have time."
After some muttered discussion, the group agreed that George was acceptable (and honestly, that was how most everybody usually saw him – he was not terribly good, but not terribly bad. He was just… acceptable)
On the way back to the castle, Hermione turned to Ginny, "Maybe things will get better now."
"Maybe." They certainly couldn't get worse. Ginny's year so far had been awful. She felt isolated, with nothing to do. She could still pull the stunts like before, but climbing the outside of the Astronomy tower wasn't any fun if there wasn't anybody to be horrified (yet secretly impressed) by her exploits. But maybe Hermione was right. Maybe having the study group would give her something to work towards.
'I miss Harry and Neville.'
Author notes:
Need… reviews! Losing.. all… motivation.
(Not really, but do leave a review, letting me know what you like, what you don't, what you want to see more of. I can't promise to honor the requests, but they will direct my writing)
