(A/N: Here you go! I've come out of my writer's block for now.)

"Checkmate," muttered Kathy calmly.

Benji jumped up dramatically, his face red with frustration. "Bloody hell, how do you DO that?"

"It's all in the strategy, Benjamin," she grinned, scratching Jynx affectionately behind the ears.

"Strategy my arse..." he mumbled. "Where's your other hellraiser?" He asked, switching subjects as he packed up his board.

Kathy looked around with an unconcerned expression. "He's someplace or other," she finally settled on. "How's your hair, Bill?"

A mop of red hair came flying down the stairway from the boys' dormitories and enveloped the girl in a hug. "I love you, Kath, you know that? I really do."

"Oh, get off me, you big idiot. I just grew your hair back out, I didn't save your life."

"Same difference," he replied, tying his hair back into a ponytail. "Did you beat Benji again? He seems in a bad mood."

"She didn't beat me! She just won...AGAIN."

After he decided he couldn't stand Kathy's smug smile, Benji offered to get the brooms and they all headed out to the Quidditch fields.

"Can we take the all balls out?" Benji asked after he'd gotten the Quaffle. His hand was poised over the latch for the Bludgers.

Kathy shook her head. "No, if this isn't a real practice, Captain James says leave 'em in."

"You don't have to call him Captain all the time, Kathy! He's not here!"

She nodded. "But I have to stay in the habit, because it annoys the hell out of him."

Benji's jaw dropped and he threw the Quaffle as hard as he could at Kathy's head. She caught it and laughed. It wasn't that she called him Captain, it was that she didn't call him "Mr. Potter, sir," like Benji often did. He was an inch away from hero-worshipping James Potter, and he would be if that job hadn't been taken by Peter Pettigrew.

Kathy looked up at the sky. "We can't stay out long, you guys. Once it gets dark we have to-"

"SHH!" Bill ordered. Small whispers were floating from the Forbidden Forest. Whispers made by familiar voices.

"Oh, Bill, shut up. It's just the Marauders, for pity's sake. They're ALWAYS going into the Forbidden Forest."

He could've smacked himself for not realizing it, but it was true.

"I swear, you'd think they like it there. Catch, Bill."

"Catch Bill?" Benji asked.

"The Quaffle, you twat."

"Ms. JOHNSON!" That was most definitely a Professor McGonagall screech. Bill wondered slightly if she had perfected it while going to school at Hogwarts.

"Bugger," said Kathy, swooping towards the ground.

"I sincerely hope you have a plausible reason for you, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Radcliffe to be out here so late."

"Well, it's not dark yet, Professor, and Bill and Benji were just-"

"I'm afraid dark has nothing to do with it, Ms. Johnson. Once dusk begins, all students are to be inside, if not in their dormitories."

"Guess we didn't get the memo," Kathy muttered. She had always had a bad habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person.

(A/N: Before you ask, Benji's name has NOTHING to do with Daniel Radcliffe, got that? NOTHING. I tried all kinds of names, making him the older brother of countless characters, but Benjamin Radcliffe was the only one that sounded right. You know how it is. Plus, I'm already going nastily against canon. As far as we know, Angelina Johnson has no older sister. *slaps self on the hand* For shame...)

*!*!*!*!*

"I hope you're pleased with yourself."

"Oh, shut up, Benji, it's not like you got dentention."

"YES, I DID! We all did!"

"...Oh. Well, it's better than losing points."

"Oh, that's your strategy, is it?"

"Enough, you two!" Bill interjected. "If you act like this around the new caretaker tomorrow night, he'll probably give us even more work than McGonagall assigned."

"Oh, stop, Bill, you worry too much."

The three walked out onto the grounds, moving slowly towards Professor Kettleburn's class. An energetic, impatient man, Kettleburn was more than a little accident prone. Okay, that's being nice. To put it bluntly, people referred to his lessons by injury.

"Were you there for the puffskein bite?"

"No, I had the Knarl thing. He called it ugly and when he tried to stop it from wrecking his yard, it gave him a good stabbing."

"Well, the bite was apparently infected by the time the imp got him next week."

The Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs usually shared but a change in schedule now found them sharing with Slytherin house. Not a happy couple, you can be sure. Kettleburn appeared not to notice or care about their hostility; he had his own problems. It was not surprising to see him sporting a bandage or sling of some sort. This time he was walking with crutches. And any time Madam Pomfrey needed to administer a Muggle remedy, the injury had to be very nasty indeed.

"Ah, well, class, I'm afraid I had a little accident working with some sixth years on Winged Horses. Kicked my shin bone right through the skin, but I'm fine now."

Bill could not even begin to comprehend how a person could be fine after something like that, but before he could speak up, the Professor went on.

"However, the Headmaster has suggested an easier lesson than last month's Malaclaws," he continued, pretending not to see the collective shudder. Kettleburn had been bitten by one, and had had a week of bad luck...and no one wants to be around a person with bad luck, ESPECIALLY one who has to deal with magical creatures. Bill shook his head to clear the image of the Professor being stung repeatedly by an Australian Billywig.

"So, we will be working with gnomes. Now, gnomes are rather-"

Bill's mind wandered off for a coffee break. His mother had told him all about gnomes as soon as he was old enough to chase them from the garden. She was always looking for ways to put her children to practical use.

"Now, I'm sure most of you have gnomes in your gardens at home--"

"Wow, he should be teaching Divination."

Bill snapped out of it. "Kathy, we've already got detention."

"I noticed."

Kettleburn prattled on. "I'm sure most of you can handle them, just feed them some of those Horklumps, there-"

"Those WHAT?" Benji shrieked. Horrifying images of some terrible animal flashed before his eyes. He had a bad history with animals. Pacifying himself, he turned to look at what the teacher had pointed to...a box of wriggling pink mushrooms?

"What's the matter, Betty, don't like the scary vegatables?" Some random Slytherin remarked.

"Shut your hole, you toad rectum," said Kathy, amid trying not to laugh at Benji and trying to appear fierce at the same time. It didn't work out so well.

"That will be enough, Ms. Johnson. Now, here are your gnomes. They...are, uh..."

Another wretched problem with Kettleburn was that he constantly misplaced his creatures. He had left a few Moke lizards in the Potions dungeons once. Most of them were never found until someone discovered they had shrunk themselves and were living in the cauldrons. He let Hagrid, who was most enthusiastic about it, watch his sneakier animals after that.

"One moment class," and he hobbled off. The class assumed he had them in a cage in his cabin, until he started calling, "Gnomes? Here, gnomes! I have some juicy Horklumps for you..."

The Horklumps, like most creatures, did not enjoy the prospect of being eaten and began to attempt to leave their crate.

"Should we do something?" Benji asked, uncertainly.

"No, let it get interesting first."

That was Kathy's advice on everything. That was why detention followed her like the plague.


*!*!*!*!*

"Well, Kath, is it interesting yet?"

"Oh yeah."

Kettleburn found the gnomes...and a boggart he had been holding onto for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. After it escaped the trunk where he kept it, it ran into the yard with the students, chasing them.

Then it encountered the Horklumps and turned into a gnome. Then it was near impossible for Kettleburn to find the boggart and the gnomes were feasting rabidly on horklumps.

"Now, don't panic, don't pan--OW!"

Kathy looked pleased. "He's hurt. Now it's interesting AND funny."

"Ms. Johnson, would you kindly run into my cabin and--OW! Get my-OW! wand?!"

"Aren't you supposed to have it with you at all times during lessons?"

"NOW, MS. JOHNSON!"

She picked her way through wild gnomes and fleeing Horklumps to the cabin, and disappeared inside. Bill followed, not trusting her alone in a teacher's home.

Kettleburn kept a very cluttered cabin, but at least it was fascinating clutter. Kathy stepped into a utopia of things to touch and Bill sighed.

"Hey, what's that pickled thing?"

"Don't touch it, Kathy."

"Look at this, is it dead?"

"Don't touch it, Kathy."

"Bill, you've got to-"

"Kathy! Just find the chap's wan...what is that?"

It was a small silver box, it fit into Kathy's hand easily. The corners were smooth and there were no decorations on it.

"Odd sort of thing to keep, what could you put in it? Must be a Muggle thing."

"That's not what's wrong, Bill. Look." She held it out for him to see and in one small corner he saw what she was concerned about.

Engraved in that small corner with tiny letters was her name, Katherine Michealla Johnson. It was obviously not a Muggle thing.

"Michealla?"

"Shut up. My parents didn't like the name Michelle."

Bill stifled a laugh and tried to look serious. This was, after all, very weird. "Why does Kettleburn have a silver box with your name on it?"

"I don't know. I'll ask him when I give him--THE WAND!" She snatched it off a dresser and went sprinting outside.

She was a class late and a wand short, it turned out. The class was gone and Kettleburn was locking up the gnomes and the one remaining Horklump, he dropped into the gnome crate. There was a sound of a group of gnomes arguing over who got it, and the Horklump escaped through a crack in the crate. Kathy said nothing.

"Sorry, sir, it was a mess in there."

"Quite all right, Johnson. I had it under control."

She bit down on her lip to keep from making a sarcastic comment. Bill used this as his opportunity to speak up.

"Sir, Kathy found this while she was looking for your wand." He handed over the small box.

Kettleburn looked uninterested. "I don't know what that is, Mr. Weasley, but I'm sure it's of no importance. She can have it if she likes." He tossed it to Bill, got steady on his crutches, picked up his gnomes, and hobbled off.

Kathy looked at the box again. "I don't know about this box, Billy..."

"Just stick it your robes and come on, or we'll be late for class."