Chapter Eleven: The Ravenclaw Scrimmage

The Ravenclaw scrimmage took place the first day of holiday. By this time the Quidditch pitch was concealed under a thick blanket of snow; Slytherins and Ravenclaws alike, along with a handful of interested foreign students, huddled under their cloaks in the frosty stands. This game was much less informal than the Durmstrang match had been. If anyone had been announcing, or if Stebbins hadn't been playing referee, it might have almost seemed like an ordinary game.

Beth and Melissa huddled together under a broad flannel cloak, cheering feebly for their classmates in between ducking down to warm their hands on a small fire that Melissa had brought along in a jar.

"Quidditch is great and all," said Beth, teeth chattering, "but honestly, in the wintertime I don't think it's worth it."

"H-hush," Melissa stammered back. "I th-think Aaron's about to s-score."

It had been a close game. All of them were out of practice, and it showed: with a score of one hundred twenty to one hundred thirty, whoever caught the Snitch was guaranteed to win. As it was, a light snowfall obscured just about everything, and both Draco and Cho Chang had been flying around in circles for an hour now.

Aaron swooped into position and raised his hand to throw. As he did, one of the Ravenclaw Chasers zoomed in front of him and snatched the ball from his oft-injured hand. Instantly, Warrington was there. He dove in front of the Ravenclaw, who let out a yelp and swerved as fast as she could to the left. Without hesitation, Warrington drove his elbow into her stomach so hard that she went into a spin, gasping in pain. The Quaffle flew out of her hands. Warrington reached up and caught it, effortlessly, and passed it back to Aaron, who dodged the astonished Keeper and scored.

All this happened in less than a second. The referee, Stebbins, finally found his voice and cried, "Foul!" even as he flew at top speed toward the scene of the crime. "Foul, foul, foul -- are you all right, Jen?"

"I'll be fine," the weak voice floated back.

"I'll have you for that," Stebbins began harshly, still not daring to get within an arm's length of the massive Slytherin, but another voice cut in, even louder and more angry.

"Warrington!"

Bruce had abandoned the goal box and was barreling toward the melee. He looked furious.

"What were you doing?"

Warrington swooped angrily and muttered something about "winning" and something else about "Marcus".

"I don't care what Marcus said!" Bruce roared. The entire team fell still and turned to look at him. "From now on we're winning on our skills, not our fouling!" The Ravenclaws cast each other uneasy looks. Stebbins' jaw dropped.

Warrington shuffled in mid-air. For a moment he looked like he was going to fight back; then he frowned heavily and sank a few inches. He was obviously giving in to Bruce's authority.

"Go sit out until you're cooled off," Bruce ordered. He looked around at the remaining Slytherins and finally whistled at Morag MacDougal. The redhead mooched a broomstick off of one of his classmates and joyously zoomed onto the field.

Beth watched Bruce with a new measure of admiration. "He's not just scrimmaging, is he?" she said slowly.

"No," said Melissa, just as slowly. She watched as Bruce introduced Morag to the other two Chasers, while Warrington settled sullenly on the sidelines. "I think he's training next year's team."

Stebbins looked from Bruce to Warrington and back at Roger Davies, who shook his head in astonishment. "Penalty shot to Ravenclaw," he said, his tone more surprised than angry. "Bletchley, get in place to receive."

Bruce nodded and swept back to the Keeper's box.

Stebbins whistled for the Quaffle and, when it was tossed to him, handed it over to one of the Ravenclaw Chasers, a girl with frizzy brown hair above a cute face of the same color. Without a moment's pause, she took off toward the Slytherin goals, lured Bruce to one side with some fancy flying, and sank the goal in the right-hand hoop.

The Ravenclaws whooped and cheered. This same Chaser was responsible for more than half her team's goals so far. Bruce was using every move in his arsenal, and was still having trouble keeping her off.

Beth let her eyes scan the audience. Like she and Melissa, everyone was mostly huddled in groups of two or three, with portable fires and thick blankets or cloaks. Some of the Ravenclaws were doing their homework. Down in a corner of the stands, a lone figure sat with his head tilted to watch the game. His black-and-yellow scarf fluttered in the wind and collected snow flurries.

Beth sat up straighter. She leaned in to Melissa. "Diggory's alone," she murmured. "I'm going to talk to him about the second task."

Melissa craned her neck to take a glance at him. "Good luck," she murmured back, and Beth stood up and made her way down the snowy bleachers to where the Hufflepuff sat.

She took a seat beside him wordlessly. Cedric glanced her way and then turned his eyes back to the game. For several minutes they sat together silently, neither making eye contact nor even acknowledging the other. Finally, Beth broke the silence.

"We told you the truth," she said quietly.

Cedric didn't take his eyes from the flying figures above him. "I know."

Beth watched Bole blast a Bludger toward the Ravenclaw Seeker. "If I said that we wanted to help you with the second task ..."

"... then I'd wonder why," Cedric answered. His voice was neither suspicious nor warm; it was the flat, noncommittal tone of a man on the subway, discussing the next stop with a stranger.

"I told you last time," said Beth. "We know that you took the Transcongus Brew."

Cedric started and turned to her for the first time. "Is this blackmail?"

"Black-- no, no, of course not!" Beth said, irritated and astonished. "For heaven's sake, Diggory --"

The audience burst into cheers. Ravenclaw had scored again: the same frizzy-haired Chaser as before. It was hard to see Bruce's reaction from so far away, but Beth could guess that he was as embarrassed as he was rueful.

"I don't understand," said Cedric suddenly.

Beth looked at him. "What?"

"Why you would try to help me. What's in it for you?"

"Well --" Beth hesitated. "Nothing." Lame but true, she thought to herself. This is one Society mission that isn't worth its weight in glory.

"Slytherins never do anything for nothing," Cedric insisted. "For that matter, nobody does. What is it? Did you place some bet on me to win? Are you going to try to get credit if I do? I'd just feel better if I knew what you playing at!"

"We're not playing," said Beth heatedly. "We know what that potion did to you, Diggory, and we don't want to just sit by and watch it happen!"

"That's the other thing," said Diggory. "You keep bringing up that potion -- how do you even know about it?"

Beth hesitated, considered several fabrications, and decided on the absolute truth. "I was spying on you. I thought you might be the Heir of Slytherin."

Diggory's jaw dropped. Then he began to laugh.

"I know, you're a Hufflepuff, but come on, people were seriously suspecting Potter back then," Beth argued. "Everybody was suspicious. Especially the ones checking out restricted books and then working on potions late at night," she added pointedly.

Cedric grinned ruefully. "Okay, point taken. I appreciate you being worried about me and all ... I guess ... but I'm going to be fine."

"How can you say that?" Beth hissed. "The book said very clearly that you paid for that potion with your life!"

Cedric glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. "Listen," he said, dropping his voice, "my Uncle Claudius took that potion once too. He's fifty-five years old and fit as a fiddle. I am not worried about it."

Beth's eyebrows demonstrated her skepticism. "But the recipe said --"

Cedric waved a hand impatiently. "I don't care what the recipe said. It's too late for Claudius to die young, he's in perfect shape, he doesn't even do anything dangerous. He's an astronomer. The only way he's going to die on the job is if he gets hit on the head with a meteorite."

It didn't make sense. Beth tried to work out her thoughts. "I think the potion leads you into danger," she said, only half to Diggory. "It doesn't kill you itself, like poison ... it somehow acts on outside forces ... I don't know," she finished, frustrated. "All I know is that you're in a lot of danger."

Diggory raised his eyebrows. "It wasn't --"

Beth broke in.

"But you could have died! I don't think you get it -- the tasks are deadly! If you hadn't been prepared you could have been killed!"

Diggory fell silent, clearly recalling his battle with the dragon. He seemed to be fighting inside himself. Finally he said, "Give me until New Year's to solve the riddle myself. If I don't have it by then, I'll come to you. Satisfied?"

"I guess I have to be," said Beth, looking into the sky in time to see the female Chaser score on Bruce yet again.

Cedric suddenly let out a laugh. "Kiesha's really doing a job on your boy Bletchley, isn't she?" he said, without a hint of malice. "Cho tells me she spent half the summer at a training camp run by the Montrose Magpies."

"It shows," Beth admitted. Why, she thought with despair, why couldn't Diggory be more worried about himself?

"I say --" Cedric stood up suddenly, excitement all over his handsome features. "Come on, Cho!"

Beth stood up too. The Ravenclaw Seeker was zipping downfield like a bullet, pressed tight to the shaft of her broomstick, cutting through the air like a hawk diving for a mouse. Draco, who up until now had been idly weaving between Bole and Derrick, caught sight of her too late. He nosed his Nimbus into a vertical dive not ten seconds before Cho made a swipe with her arm and slowed to a halt, holding out her closed fist to Stebbins.

Stebbins blew a shrill, long note on his whistle. "Snitch captured by Cho Chang -- Ravenclaw wins, three hundred to one hundred thirty!"

There were groans and cheers from the crowd. The teams landed and dispersed. Roger Davies made his way across the field to shake hands with Bruce, who looked surprised and pleased.

Beth gave Diggory a rueful smile. "Congratulations."

Diggory grinned at her, face handsomely flushed with the excitement of Cho's success. "Hey, thanks. Your fellows played well."

Beth nodded and started away. Cho Chang came running across the field and leapt into Cedric's arms; he whirled her around once and planted a big kiss in the middle of her forehead. "Spectacular."

"As always," came a cool, sassy voice from near them. The Ravenclaw Chaser had joined them at the bleachers. She had warm brown skin and a smattering of dark freckles, all of which was topped with a frizzy mop of brown hair. Her forehead shimmered with sweat. She was grinning.

"Well done, Kiesha!" Diggory said. "Boy, I wish you were in my house."

"Our house has a cuter Seeker," said Kiesha tartly, resting an elbow on Cho Chang's shoulder. "Speaking of cute, who was that dashing gent in green?"

Cho made a face. "Not Eustace Bole? He can fly all right, but he's such a -- a goon --"

"No, no, no!" said Kiesha. "The other one --"

They started away. Beth returned to where Melissa was gathering up her things. Mervin had joined her, shivering madly beneath a massive parka. "Come on, hurry!" he gasped. "It's lunchtime, I'm freezing and I'm starved ..."

They, along with the rest of the spectators, hurried inside to the warmth of the castle. The game had ended just in time; students were spilling into the hallways from all directions, drawn by the tantalizing aromas of hot meat pies, toasty rolls fresh from the oven, and steaming vegetables. Mervin began drooling openly.

Melissa glanced at him. "Oh, by the way, Mervin -- have you made up your mind about Maria-Regina?"

"Yes, I think she's awfully tall and she terrifies me. Why?"

Melissa rolled her eyes. "I mean about what you'll tell her, if she ever gets a chance to ask you to the Yule Ball."

"She's not getting a chance," Mervin said instantly. "I can hide in this castle for a good long time. Back in first year I managed to avoid Warrington for two solid weeks, and he slept in the same room as me."

Beth grinned. "Well, he's not the hardest person to fool, though."

"But what if she finds you?" Melissa pressed.

Mervin waved away the question. "I'll get someone else."

Melissa glanced over his shoulder. "Better do it quick then."

Mervin followed her gaze and a look of horror came over his face. Beth quickly turned around to look. Maria-Regina, in all her Amazonian glory, was wading through the halls while awed first-years on either side gawped at the majestic blonde mountain.

Mervin turned three shades of pale. He stopped and stared as the crowds swarmed around him. Suddenly, desperately, he reached out and grabbed the arm of the nearest female. "Want to go to the ball with me?" he blurted.

The girl he had caught was a Hufflepuff, plump and saucy. "What?"

"Yule Ball," he gasped, hiding behind Beth as Maria-Regina made her way through the crowd. "Go with me -- please --"

"Well ..." said the Hufflepuff, eyeing him. "I guess ... yes, all right."

Mervin stood up and met her eyes with sincere relief. "You have saved my life." Without warning, he lunged forward and kissed her full on the lips.

Beth gaped. The Hufflepuff let out an exclamation which was muffled by the presence of Mervin's face. Down the hall, Maria-Regina stopped dead and stared at Mervin and the Hufflepuff. Her mouth worked wordlessly for a moment. Then she turned and charged away.

***

Maria-Regina Dolohov did not end up at lunch that day. At dinner, her classmates showed up without her again.

"She must be very upset," Melissa guessed, giving Mervin a dirty look.

Andrei shook his head. "No," he said. "She is angry. She vos afraid if she came to dinner, she vould harm him badly."

Mervin looked up from his salmon and blanched to a sickly gray.

After dinner, the denizens of Hogwarts dispersed to their evening activities. Warrington and Bole got into a spirited wrestling match in the center of the common room; Richard made them clear out a space and cast some barrier spells on the sharp corners, and then let them go to it. The little curly-haired boy, whom Beth was beginning to think of as King of the Firsties, went around trying to broker bets on the outcome of the match.

Beth worked on her Alchemy. The horrible thing about the class was that besides the final project -- nowhere near halfway completed, thanks for asking -- they still had to keep up on a regular courseload of work. Christmas is four days away, she thought bitterly, and I'm doing Alchemy. Life was not fair.

She was about three equations away from pulling her hair out when Blaise came up and pounded both fists on the table.

Beth looked up with a start. "What?"

Blaise slumped into the seat across from her.

"If you see a certain Mr. Bruce Bletchley," Blaise seethed, "please do the world a favor and kill him for me."

"Okay," said Beth mildly. "How come?"

"That jerk told me he already had a date to the Yule Ball!" Blaise let out a bitter laugh. "As if I'd believe that. The only girls he even knows are you two. But you know what -- I don't want to go with a lying goon like that anyway."

Beth thought fast. "I can't believe he'd do that to you," she said indignantly. "He's going to hear about this from me." She took a quick glance around the common room and her eyes fell on a nearly-empty couch in the corner. "But ... maybe it's for the best."

Blaise snorted.

"Honestly," said Beth. "You never know what'll turn up." She gathered up her books. "Sorry, I have to go ... eh ... work on Alchemy. Talk to you later."

"Okay," said Blaise, disappointment etched into her voice.

Beth got up and wandered nonchalantly across the room to where Aaron sat poking through his scrapbook of the Tutshill Tornadoes. Without a greeting, she flopped down beside him.

"Going to look a bit silly, aren't you?" she said offhandedly. "At the Yule Ball, I mean."

Aaron looked up at her quizzically. "Huh?"

"I think you're the only fellow in our class who hasn't got a partner to dance with. You know, even Mervin found somebody this morning."

"No way!" Aaron closed his scrapbook. Now he was interested.

Beth nodded. "A cute little Hufflepuff girl." She started fiddling with the fringe on a pillow. "That leaves you. I just wonder who you're going to hang out with, if everyone else is dancing."

Aaron's eyes widened. He hadn't considered that. "Bruce."

"He already has a date," said Beth, praying that Aaron wouldn't find out the truth.

"Warring--" he began, and stopped. Everyone knew perfectly well that Warrington would have eyes for no one but Antigone all night.

Beth shrugged.

Aaron turned to her with eyes that suddenly showed the panic that the rest of the school had been experiencing for weeks now. "I've got to get a partner."

Beth shrugged again. "If you think that's best ..."

"That's the only thing to do, isn't it?" Aaron said, still astonished that he hadn't anticipated this series of events.

Beth sat up and nodded firmly. "You're absolutely right. Say --" She snapped her fingers. "I know someone else who needs a partner too."

"Who?"

Aaron was like a fish on a hook now. Beth smiled as she pointed across the common room. "There. The cute one that always hangs around Pansy Parkinson."

Aaron arched his neck to look. "Oh -- right, Draco's friend." He hesitated. "I guess she's not too bad-looking ..."

Beth was going to say something about Blaise having a wonderful personality, but changed her mind. "She knows a lot about Quidditch," she said instead. "Her name's Blaise. But --" Here she took a risk. "But you'd better hurry, I think I saw Stebbins watching her at the scrimmage."

Aaron's eyes narrowed. "Bloody Stebbins. You say her name's Blaise?" Without another word, he get up and headed across the common room to where Blaise sat, oblivious.

"Good luck," Beth called after him. A broad, self-satisfied grin settled over her face. That's where Melissa found her half an hour later -- idly flipping through Aaron's abandoned scrapbook, pleased to death with herself.

"Aren't we just the cat's pajamas," said Melissa, sitting down beside her.

"Oh, we are," said Beth. "You'll be so proud of me. I got Little Puce to ask Blaise to the Yule Ball. Come on, tell me how cool I am."

"Good for you," said Melissa. "Now how about fixing yourself up with a partner."

Beth flushed pink. "That's harder," she admitted.

"Honestly," said Melissa. "You're out of time, Beth. You need to settle this."

"Well -- do you have a date yet?" Beth said defensively.

"Of course," said Melissa. "I asked Andrei. He's very nice -- although if my parents ever find out I'm hobnobbing with a Gregorovich, they'll evict me. But that's not the point," she went on staunchly. "We're talking about you, and your date. Or lack thereof."

"It's not my fault if Richard hasn't asked me yet." Now Beth was annoyed. "He's very distracted right now."

"He is also," said Melissa, "an idiot. The time has come for desperate measures."

Beth knew what Melissa was going to say next and absolutely did not want to hear it. "Well -- maybe he already has a date."

"Oh Beth, how could he possibly have a date?" cried Melissa. "He never thinks about anything but the Ledger! You're going to have to take the first step!"

"I don't want to!" wailed Beth.

"Look," said Melissa firmly, taking her by the shoulders. "You want to go to the Yule Ball with Richard, right?" Beth nodded reluctantly. "Then you've got to go do something about it. He always shows up at breakfast a bit early to schmooze with the other prefects. Be there fifteen minutes earlier than usual and you'll have your chance." She held up her hands. "I know, that doesn't give you a lot of time for snogging, but that can come later."

"Forget snogging," Beth sighed. "I'd settle for a dance."

***

Beth had trouble sleeping. Her nerves woke her almost every hour on the hour, with a sudden unfounded fear that she had overslept and missed her chance at Richard. Finally she gave up around six in the morning and dragged herself to the shower, after which she did everything she could think of to make herself look prettier and judged none of them a success.

She made her way down to the Great Hall forty-five minutes before she had intended, and sat there nursing a cup of tea and gathering her nerve for a good half-hour before Richard showed up. She calmed down as soon as she saw him. No need to get excited, she told herself, it's just Richard.

She approached the prefect's table.

"Beth!" Richard was one of those despicably chipper morning folks. "Good morning!"

"Yeah, it is." She hesitated. "Sleep well?" You're putting it off, Melissa's voice sang in her mind.

"Well enough. You?"

"Fine."

The time was at hand. She would have to spit it out now or die without having done it. She took a deep breath. "D'you ... do you have a date to the Yule Ball?"

"I'm taking Gypsy," he said calmly. "We're going to go sneaking around in the Durmstrang ship while everyone's dancing, see if we can uncover something, you know?"

"Oh," said Beth. Something cold twisted inside her. "That'll be good, then."

"How about you, Beth? Who'll you be hanging out with?"

For once in her life, Beth was too humiliated to blush. "I --" she began, lies circling in her head.

Before she had to speak, Cedric Diggory came in to breakfast with his rucksack full of books. "Morning, Shaw."

"Morning, old chap!" said Richard cheerily. "How's the dragon-slayer?"

"I didn't actually slay it," said Diggory, rolling his eyes and sliding into his seat.

Beth looked from one to the other. "Well," she said half-heartedly, "see you later." She turned and went back to the Slytherin table.

That's where Melissa found her ten minutes later: with her head on the table completely buried in her arms.

"Er ... Beth?"

"I really hate you," said Beth, voice muffled by her arms.

"How come?"

"He's already taking Gypsy to the ball," she said, not looking up.

Melissa was silent for a minute. "Oh." They sat quietly for a few seconds, Melissa with her chin in her hands, Beth face-down on the table. "What about Josef, then?"

"I keep telling you, he's only doing it for the attention --"

"And I've been trying to tell you," said Melissa, laying a hand on her arm, "that he hasn't asked anyone else."

Beth raised her head from her arms. "What? Really?"

Melissa held up one hand. "Honest. Bruce asked him about it yesterday. You're the only one he wants to go with. He said he'd go alone if you didn't eventually say yes. He even turned somebody down."

"That idiot. Who was it?"

"I don't know." Melissa shrugged. "I got all this through the grapevine, you know. I just think it makes your decision a lot easier, that's all."

Beth stared helplessly at her best friend. "But --" A feeling that she had been suppressing all year came sputtering out. "But I'm supposed to be going with Richard!"

"And everyone knows it but him," Melissa said soothingly. "Remember rule number one?"

"Boys are dumb," said Beth, with a hint of a smile.

"Right," said Melissa. "You're going to show up at the ball in your best dress, I'll do your hair and makeup, and we're going to make him crazy with jealousy."

"Except he's already crazy," they said together. Beth started to laugh.

Melissa glanced over her shoulder. "Okay -- here comes Josef. You know what to do." She winked. "Good luck!"

Luck was exactly what she was going to need, Beth thought. Josef looked like he had just gotten done inventing the world and was up for some lawn bowling. He bounded into the seat beside Beth.

"Goot morning, Beth. You look disappointed."

Beth was surprised -- first, because she thought she'd done a good job of hiding the fact, and second, because she never imagined that Josef would recognize what disappointment looked like. "Bad test grade," she lied.

"Aha." Josef nodded like a sage psychiatrist. "T'e exams, they are alvays ruining my day." He tapped her mug with his wand and a smiley face appeared on top of the coffee. "Tell you vhat. I'll take you to the Yule Ball to cheer you up. Okh'ay?"

Beth looked down at the happy face floating in her mug, and then up at Josef's beaming smile.

"Okay."

Josef's mouth dropped open. "Really?"

Beth nodded. "Sure."

Josef looked stunned. Then he broke into a grin. "Nyiuzhe'ly!" he said, and ran his hands through his hair as if he wasn't sure what to do next. "Goot! Great! I am a genius vith vomen!" he crowed down the table, and some of the Durmstrang students applauded. "So ... vant to meet in the Entrance Hall?"

"That sounds good," said Beth. "Er ... how's quarter to eight?"

Josef nodded vehemently. "Vonderful. I'll be the vone in the bright orange robes." At seeing Beth's expression, he nudged her playfully in the ribs. "Don't vorry. I'ff left my fox-fur hat at k'home."

"Your ... what?"

"See you!" said Josef cheerfully, and jogged off, exuberantly high-fiving the guys in his class.

Beth watched him go. Then she turned to Melissa. "I'm going to the ball with a guy who owns a fox-fur hat," she said dully.

Melissa beamed. "And I'm going with the son of my parents' worst enemy. Won't it be great?"

'Great' wasn't exactly what Beth had in mind.

***

Beth was not feeling very keen on Richard at present, but that didn't stop him from seeking her out on Christmas Eve to iron out the last several details of their great Yule Spy Operation.

"The Ball officially begins at eight." He had his stack of papers on hand and the ink smudge was back on his cheek. "Dinner, followed by dancing. Gypsy and I are going to leave for the Durmstrang ship a little after the music starts. Let's say, nine o'clock." He ran his thumb absently over his cheekbone and Beth realized where the smudge came from. "Fifteen minutes to sneak out and fifteen minutes to sneak back in, plus we'd better be there for the last half-hour or so -- that leaves two hours to search every nook and cranny on that boat."

"I'm sure Josef would just confess if you asked him," Beth deadpanned.

"I'm sure Josef would confess to the defeat of Grindelwald if we asked him," Richard replied. He rubbed his forehead distractedly and got a streak of ink along there too. "Oren's going to be doing the Beauxbatons coach." He laughed suddenly. "He's positively thrilled about it."

"He's very gung-ho on the Society," Beth agreed.

"Oren's going to start the search right after all of us get into dinner. While he's searching, we'll be grilling our dates and the people around us. Dropping hints and things -- trying to see if any of them have something to hide. After the dancing ends we'll reconvene in the Vase Room at one o'clock and go over what we've found out."

"For crying out loud, Richard," said Beth, "are you planning to have any fun at the Yule Ball?"

Richard looked scandalized. "I'm not going to the Yule Ball to have fun, I'm going for the Society. I mean, if I just wanted to have a good time, I'd be taking you."

Which left Beth feeling very much like punching him senseless.

"In any case," he went on, without noting her expression, "we'll all have to be on top of our game. Beth, you and Mel will have a good chance to see if any of the Durmstrang boys have been sneaking off of the ship. Mervin will be grilling that Hufflepuff girl and Audra'll be with the Gryffindors, and ... is anyone covering those Beauxbatons people?"

"Morag," said Beth tiredly, thinking that it sounded more like a reconnaissance mission than a school dance.

"Right. Morag has Beaubatons, and Evan was going to skulk around in the corner as usual. Who's Blaise going with?"

"I set her up with Little Puce," Beth reported. "That won't do any good. Aaron's the least suspicious person in the whole school."

Richard's eyes narrowed. "We can't afford to ignore anyone."

"Yes, we can," said Beth. She was getting tired of the whole thing. "You didn't do it. I didn't do it."

Richard gave her a suspicious look.

"Richard!"

"Okay, okay, you didn't take it," he agreed hastily. He propped his head on one fist. "What we really need is some Veritaserum."

Beth threw up her hands. "Go on, rob Snape if you want to," she said, more loudly than she had intended. "I don't think it was anybody in the Society. But you're the president." She started to leave.

"Beth -- wait --"

She turned around. Richard looked uncharacteristically ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he said, with some difficulty. "I didn't mean to accuse you. I don't think it was any one of us either ... but it was someone ... that makes me want to be sure about everyone."

He was crestfallen and hopeful. Beth sat back down.

"Maybe I just don't understand," she said slowly. "We hardly use the Ledger. I don't think I understand what someone would want with it."

"You're right, we don't use it enough," Richard said. "But it's more than just our names -- there are spells in there, and historical records from way before Riddle even founded the Society, maps and instructions and things." He sighed and looked at his hands. "Whoever has it could find out everything about us. They'd know who we are, where we are and what we can do. Our whole history ..."

Beth understood. That history, tainted with the ambitions of the Dark Lord, could be destructive to them all.

***

It was late that night when Richard finally yawned, stretched, gathered his notes and headed off to bed. Everything had been prepared. There was nothing left to do but wait. He was, in fact, the only one in the house who was still working. The Slytherins spent the evening doing absolutely nothing -- which, compared to the whirlwind of the previous weeks, was an absolute relief.

Beth found Bruce lounging on a long sofa, gazing contentedly at the flickering fire. He glanced up at her with a small, contented grin.

"Richard's a bit excited, I take it."

Beth slumped onto the sofa beside him. "He's so keyed up about finding the Ledger that he doesn't care if it's the biggest dance in the history of Hogwarts." She sighed. "I think he's going to spike the punch with Veritaserum."

"Wow. Thanks for the warning."

"Just don't eat or drink anything if you hear Snape yelling that he was robbed."

Bruce grinned. "Richard's getting as dangerous as the Weasley twins."

"And he's just about as irritating," said Beth, although a little leap in her stomach chided her that she didn't really mean it. She decided to change the subject. "It wasn't nice of you, to let Blaise down like that."

Bruce looked startled. "What was I supposed to do? Take two girls to the ball?"

Beth was agog. "You mean you really do have a date?"

"Yes, I really do have a date." Bruce reddened but held his ground. "You think I just made it up to shake off Blaise?"

"You did it last year."

"No," said Bruce, "I conned you into asking me before Blaise did. No lying, just manipulation. Big difference."

"So you really have a date."

Bruce laughed. "You sound surprised."

Beth blinked. "Actually, I was sort of thinking you were going to be a perpetual bachelor."

"Thanks for the confidence."

"Well --" Beth leaned back into the plush upholstery. "It's just that, you know, you never really showed any interest in ..."

"Girls?" Bruce grinned.

"Anything but Quidditch." Beth smiled at her friend. "Last year, you kept acting like you were terrified to go to Hogsmeade with Blaise. And you know," she said, "I had a crush on you all first year, and kept waiting for you to do something about it, but you never even glanced at me that way."

Bruce looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

Beth nodded. "Broke my little firstie heart."

"Oh." Bruce grinned ruefully. "Sorry about that. As for Blaise, I only didn't want to go with her because all she'd want to do was run around spying after Draco and Pansy. Actually, she might just do that all night at the Yule Ball, too -- date or no date."

"Date," said Beth. "I set her up with Little Puce. But back to your partner -- who is she?"

"One of the Ravenclaw Chasers." Bruce smiled sheepishly. "Kiesha Bundy. The one who kept scoring on me at the scrimmage, remember? She asked me after the match on Saturday."

Beth grinned. "So I suppose you're going to be talking Quidditch all night."

"Don't be ridiculous." Bruce grinned back. "I'm not letting any bloody Ravenclaw in on my tactics."

Beth laughed and patted his shoulder. "That's the spirit." She stood up and stretched. "Get to bed, Brucey. It's Christmas Eve -- nobody gets presents until everyone's asleep."

Bruce yawned and then slowly stood up. "Makes me wish I had the Ledger."

Beth looked at him in surprise.

"I'd wrap it up and put it on Richard's bed like a Christmas present." He grinned mischievously. "You could hear him scream from the other side of the castle!"

~~~~~~~~
Nyiuzhe'ly = wow
I actually know a guy with a fox-fur hat. He got it in Mongolia; it looks like a dead fox is sitting on his head, which is pretty much what it consists of. Apparently it's very warm in the winter.