But it wasn't professor business. They found this out half an hour later,
after Hermione had practically torn up the Common Room for her knitting. "I
was sure it was here," she muttered, actually getting on her knees to look
under a couch.
"Well, what does it look like?" Harry said, trying to be patient.
"I've only the one," she shot back, irritated. "Don't tell me I left it again."
"Bit forgetful, isn't she?" Ron asked, playing out a round of Solitaire with Exploding Snap cards, just to make it a bit more interesting.
Hermione sighed. "Well, we're not getting any help from him. Come with me, Harry?"
"Sure," he agreed, following her to the hospital wing, which was empty. "Strange," he commented. "I thought she'd be talking to Snape or something."
"And that they'd do it out in the open? Honestly." She rolled her eyes. "They're probably in the back. I wouldn't interrupt them, but I want Dobby's sweater done for Christmas . . ." Pulling aside the tapestry, she knocked on the door.
It was opened almost immediately, though Snape's eyes darkened when he saw who it was. "What do you want, Potter?"
"Sir, I think I left my knitting here," Hermione said, trying to sound innocent and reasonable. "If I could just speak to Amy -"
"Is that Moody?" Charlie's voice came from the left, and then he was in the doorway, widening the crack. "Where is he? Well, what brings you here?" He ran a hand through his hair, looking rather stressed.
"What's going on?" Harry asked before Hermione could form another plea for her knitting. "Did something else happen?" His scar hadn't tingled, but still . . . what if that only meant his Occlumency lessons were working?
"It's none of your business, Potter," Snape growled, showing his yellowing teeth.
"If it involves my godmother it is too my business," he shot back. "Did something else happen?"
Tonks came up then, tucking herself under Charlie's arm and looking distinctly unhappy. Her eyes were red, her hair was black, and it was lying flat. "Wotcher, Harry," she sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "You haven't seen Mad-Eye around, have you?"
"Tonks, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking more than a little concerned. "Are you all right?"
She snorted. "Minor crisis, no need to panic."
Amy came up then, crowding the doorframe, glaring at the mirror in her hand. "Why is it that when I least want to see him he's always there? Where is he now? I'm tempted to smash this . . . Either of you two seen Moody?" She seemed to have just realized why everyone was gathered around the door.
"No," Harry said, exasperated. "Why do you want him?"
"So she can two-time me," Snape said dryly. "Now, if you two would kindly -"
"Oh, hush," Amy said, shoving her hair out of her face.
"They might as well know," Tonks said with a sigh. "I mean, sheesh, not like your family can get any worse . . ."
Five minutes later they were in the chairs around the fire. Lupin had come out to join them as soon as it was apparent everyone present knew he was there, and he, Amy, Tonks, and Charlie were sitting on the couch in that order, clutching mugs of hot chocolate.
"My mum just wrote me," Tonks began, staring unseeingly into the fireplace. "She left when I was fourteen, sent Dad into a tizzy. He couldn't handle having me there, so Amy took me in for a good number of holidays, until he'd managed to convince himself she was dead or something."
"What's that have to do with the mirror?" Harry asked, warming his hands on his own mug.
Amy laughed humorlessly. "I was trying to contact Lucius," she said bitterly. "See, Anna said she'd joined Bella -"
"Who?"
"Tonks's mum. Andromeda, but we call her Anna. And Bellatrix is always Bella."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Lupin's mouth. "And Narcissa?"
"Sissy," Amy said with satisfaction. "But anyway, Anna said she'd finally seen the light and gone to join Bella and all them, so we're trying to figure out whether or not it's true."
"And Professor Moody's missing?" Hermione asked. "That can't be good."
"He went into Hogsmeade, to see if rumors were flying," Charlie said. "If he's gone longer, it might mean he's heard more."
Harry licked his lips. "But I thought . . . Anna . . . was blasted off the tapestry because she married a Muggle, because she didn't hold with the family."
"So did we," Amy and Tonks said in unison. "But neither of us have seen her in years," the healer continued. "And no one really knows why she left in the first place. But she knows Tonks is here. Or, at least, someone close enough to the family to know a lot knows she's here."
"Like Bella or Sissy," Tonks said.
"Hence the mirror," Lupin concluded. "Because Lucius would know." He immediately took a drink of his chocolate as if to wash down the bitterness of the name, and Amy leaned against him, looking for all the world as if she could fall asleep right there.
"Enough," Snape said, standing up and herding Harry and Hermione out.
"Well, at least that explains why Tonks and Amy are so close," Harry said as they rounded the corner to the fat lady.
Hermione nodded slowly. "Piggle-wink. I think," she said as they climbed through the portrait hole, "that something strange is going on. There's more than any of them are letting on, you know."
"Tell me about it," Harry muttered as the picture swung shut behind them. "I think there's more than you're letting on."
She smiled and was about to make a no doubt cutting remark when she gasped.
"What? What is it?"
"My knitting! Oh, drat. I'll have to get it tomorrow."
* * * * *
The next two weeks fairly flew by, what with the DA, Quidditch practice, homework, and Occlumency lessons. October dawned clear and bright, a false hint of warm weather in the breeze. Any given afternoon the Quidditch pitch was sure to be put to use by one team or another, though mostly Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, as they had the first match coming up. Cho hadn't been made captain, even though she was the only seventh year; it was a fifth year instead, Alex Hayes, their Keeper. It was also only his second year on the team, so Harry wasn't too worried.
Care of Magical Creatures had improved drastically when Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and most of the Slytherins had dropped it, and now they were back to things as exiting as hippogriffs, if marginally less dangerous. Defense Against the Dark Arts was rather easy, concentrating on defensive spells at the moment - Dean had complained about this, too, but Professor Tobias said that, once they started learning a bit more of the Dark Arts, they'd be glad for the shields, and he'd shut up - simple things that the DA had already mastered. Transfiguration was moving slowly toward turning desks into pigs and even Ron was improving more quickly than usual. He was liable to whip out his wand and turn a quill into something - usually living - and back before the owner of the quill had a chance to squeak. Charms had them levitating themselves. Neville was showing the same determination as he did in the DA and levitated himself so quickly on the forth try that he cracked his head on the ceiling and had to be taken to the hospital wing for a broken leg, but he seemed in great spirits when he regained consciousness three hours later. Even Occlumency was far more enjoyable than Harry ever thought it could be when Snape had been teaching it. The only problem was Potions.
No doubt about it, Snape still hated him. It showed in the way he swooped about the dungeons, peering into caldrons and just watching with narrowed eyes as they chopped their roots and mashed their beetles. He didn't say much to Harry. He couldn't, really; it had not taken the school long to bite on the Snape/Amy pairing, and it was common knowledge as well that Hermione and Ginny were good friends with Amy, and that their school nurse also was rather fond of Harry. Putting this together, Snape could not very well victimize his favorite victim without upsetting his supposed fiancée, so Harry was safe. Still, being ignored was rather unnerving, as he had no idea what sort of marks he was getting in that class. Also, Snape had developed the habit of hanging around Hermione more than usual, on odd days, once every two lessons or so, just scrutinizing the way she measured her armadillo bile or stirred the mixture in her cauldron, though he never said anything, and she never complained.
When Harry went to his Occlumency lesson the next Monday, my wasn't yet in her office, but Professor Lupin was in a chair by the fire, Daily Prophet in hand. He looked up when the door opened, not anxious, merely interested, as he and Snape had enchanted the tapestry only to be pulled back by certain people, all of whom knew he was there. "Take a seat, Harry," he said cheerfully. "She just realized we're almost out of Pepperup Potion - we used enough yesterday on some of those first years - and is making up a new batch. How're things with you?"
"Good," Harry said truthfully, sinking into another armchair. "Er - Professor?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"I was just wondering . . . I mean, I like not having dreams about locked doors and not having a headache all the time, but . . . well . . ."
"You're used to knowing what Voldemort's feeling and don't like being so totally in the dark?" Lupin finished, folding up the paper.
Harry blinked. "Well, yeah. I mean, not like it was tons of fun or anything, but still . . ."
The werewolf smiled. "Understood, but -"
"Argh!" Amy came into the room, grabbing some sort of power from a pot by the fireplace and throwing it in. "Severus! I'm out of lithelweed again!" Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she finally saw Harry and his expression. "Oh, hi. Sorry, this is just really annoying - that stuff keeps disappearing . . ."
Something appeared in the fireplace, revolving quickly, and a moment later Snape stepped out. "I told you to put a lock on your door," he said reproachfully. "Even private stores aren't safe . . ." His eyes roved to Harry, who merely glared back. It hadn't been him either of the times something had gone missing from Snape's office; first it was Hermione and then Dobby, the house-elf, but there was no way he was going to explain that and get them in trouble.
"No one would take it," she replied irritably, plopping into a chair. "Not even other professors. Lithelweed is used exclusively in healing potions. You don't even study it until third year Healer training!"
"Maybe it's an over-zealous house-elf," Lupin suggested, lifting the paper again. "Believe me, that stuff stinks . . ."
"And I don't have any in my stores," Snape added. "You cleaned me out last week."
Amy snorted. "Be grateful. I've seen enough runny noses to last until summer. Remus?" she asked sweetly.
He sighed, putting the paper away. "Gee, I have the sudden urge to go to Hogsmead."
"Thanks. Just a - no, take two bags." Amy tossed him a small coin purse. "And while you're at it, stop in at Honeydukes and get some of those boulders of chocolate, they keep forever . . ."
"Anything else?" he asked, bowing slightly.
She grinned. "Surprise me."
Rolling his eyes, Lupin left. Amy turned to the Potions professor. "Sorry about that, Sev. You can go back to whatever."
"I think I'd rather witness an Occlumency lesson, just to see how Potter's improving," he said, seating himself in the chair Lupin recently vacated. "That is, if you don't mind."
Harry's stomach did a little flip-flop. Mind? Of course he'd mind! But it wasn't like he could say it. Amy glanced at him, but he nodded. "Go on, hit me," he said, hoping he didn't sound as miserable as he felt.
Knowing Harry only tolerated the indecency of yoga without anyone else present, she nodded. "Legilimens," she said firmly, wand pointed at him.
Harry was desperately trying to clear his mind, eyes closed. Nothing . . . Snape breathing down the back of his neck as he tried to make a Forgetfulness Potion . . . nothing . . . nothing . . . Snape . . . Snape in Umbridge's office, sneering at him . . . Snape and Sirius, fighting . . . nothing . . . a desperate nothing . . . Sirius . . . Sirius . . . with a wrench Harry fought against it . . . Sirius . . . Sirius laughing and sweeping a young Amy out of the window seat because their godson had just been born . . .
He actually felt himself relax against the back of the seat. Sirius, grinning out of the photo from his parent's wedding . . . Sirius, staring after Amy and Lupin when he'd asked her for tea . . . nothing . . .
Harry opened his eyes. Amy was staring at him, but Snape was standing. "Class in five minutes, Potter."
He blinked. Five minutes? But that meant he'd been under the curse for at least an hour . . . "Harry, that was wonderful!" Amy gushed as soon as the door was closed. "Amazing! No wand or anything . . . why, a few more lessons and you won't even go under!"
"It didn't seem too hard that time," he admitted weakly, accepting the Chocolate Frog she tossed him. "It was almost - easy."
Amy nodded. "It's supposed to be easy. Now, get down there before Sev comes after me for making you late."
* * * * *
Ginny scowled crossly at her homework. "Find a person you don't know too well and interpret their dreams, my foot," she snarled at the parchment. "What does she expect me to do, waltz up to Malfoy and ask him if he's had a pleasant night's sleep?"
"I made that up," Harry told her. "Said I had a pen friend in Bolivia and then gave him a couple dreams. All meaning death in horrible ways, of course."
She was about to reply when she perked up. "Oy! Amy!"
"Shh!" Madame Pince said harshly, glaring at them. "This is the library!"
"Yes, that's what you call it when there are all these books," Harry muttered, but Amy was headed their way, a few books under her arms.
"You beckoned?" she asked, setting them down. Hermione actually looked up from her homework long enough to glance at the titles - things like When is a Cold Not a Cold? and Potions for the Elite - before going back to her Arithmancy essay.
Ginny nodded. "I don't suppose you've had any good dreams in the past couple nights."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "Divination?"
She nodded.
"Well, let me see . . . and you'll never know if I'm making them up, so . . ." Her eyes twinkled. "Two nights ago - you need the date, right?"
"Mmm-hmm." Ginny was poised for notes.
"Well, then. Two nights ago I dreamed I was running . . . in the mountains . . . with a wolf." She winked at Harry. Two nights ago had been a full moon. "And we were going somewhere . . ."
"Shopping?" Harry suggested.
"Yes, we wanted to go shopping, but we weren't getting any closer to the stores. It was exhausting . . . and then I woke up. Good?"
The girl frowned, tickling her chin with the end of her quill. "You took Divination didn't you?"
"You mean so that I know there's going to be a connection between me and the wolf, and the mountains are high, lofty places, so it'll be some profound connection - and let's see, the shopping thing . . . there's something we're looking for, but it's not to be found." She shrugged. "Ah, well. Can't have everything."
Ginny was scribbling like mad to get the entire prediction down. "Uh, okay . . . anything last night? We're supposed to try for more than one."
"Last night . . . I dreamed I was at a party." Amy was speaking slowly, but this was a real dream, not one made up to help someone with her homework. "It was like a ghost party, everyone there was white, but they were solid. I was the only thing in color, but they couldn't see me. Or touch me, either. So it was like I was some spirit or something, floating around and listening to what they were saying."
"What was that?" Ginny asked, ink smeared on her cheek where she had brushed away some of her hair.
Amy shrugged. I" don't remember. It was strange, like in another language, but I think I understood it."
Harry watched Ginny page through her book. "Great, give me a complicated one."
"No problem." Amy grinned. "Is that good?"
"Yeah, thanks, this is great. I think -"
But Ginny was cut off by Madame Pince. "Out! Out! Shoo!" She was hopping around, waving her hands at a large brown barn owl, but the owl was intent on its delivery, landing in front of Amy and letting her take the letter before it took off.
She smoothed it out.
Ames -
A little help, here?
Sev
"Help?" Harry asked, but there was another sheet.
EGNALHCSEIDNOVEHANREDNITSITFIGNETTARSAD
Hermione frowned. "Is that supposed to make sense?"
"Supposed to," Amy said slowly. "It's probably for the Order, something intercepted, but I have no idea . . ."
"If it's intercepted it's probably in code," Harry said, "and that means we wouldn't know what it meant even if we figured it out, right?"
Amy rolled her eyes. "Look, you want to work on this, only in my office, all right? I'm not going to leave this nonsense lying around." She waved the parchment.
Hermione snapped her book shut. "Well, let's go now, shall we?"
"I'll go get Ron," Ginny said, scanning the rows of books. "He's got to be around her somewhere . . ." She scampered off.
Amy shrugged. "Come on - no, wait, go ahead, should check these out first -" And she hurried over to Madam Pince before the other woman could shoot her with another piercing stare.
* * * * *
Amy was glaring at the parchment as if she could set it on fire with her vision. Hermione, quill in hand, was trying the last three rounds of letter substitution she could think of. Lupin was staring out the window blankly, focused on solving the message. Snape was pacing around her office, robes billowing. And Harry and Ron had reverted to tic-tac-toe.
"Sev, I'm going to demand my Saturday back," Amy muttered, picking up the parchment and trying to pronounce it. "Egg-nalc-seid-nove-han-red-nits-it- fig-net-tar-sad. Simple: if you have eggs and red nits, wash your hair in sad tar. Are you sure this isn't a decoy?"
He nodded as he passed. "The other four were definitely fake. If any one of these is real, this one is."
"And you think it's . . ." Lupin trailed off when Snape nodded. "So we need this."
"Good luck," Hermione said, moving on to her last two substitutions and finally looking frustrated. "There's nothing in it. It's completely stupid."
Amy laughed, picking up the parchment and holding it up to the light as if that might help. "Well, if you're going by IQ, yes, Hermione, this bit of parchment and ink is stupid."
"Don't tell me they've finally outwitted us," Snape muttered, crossing to Amy and looking over her shoulder. "You've cracked all the other ones in record time. We only acted on the easy ones, they can't have thought we got them all . . ."
She snorted, turning the parchment over and trying to read it through the back.
"That's not very encouraging," Snape muttered.
"It had to be this one." Lupin thumped a fist against the glass. "Of course, the thing we're really waiting for . . . great."
DERRATTENGIFTISTINDERNAHEVONDIESCHLANGE. Amy had written it out slowly, checking every letter. "Merlin's beard, they're idiots," she muttered.
Snape and Lupin were immediately at her side, eyes raking this small scrap of parchment for information. "That's encouraging," Snape said dryly.
"Yes, almost makes us feel dumb," Lupin added.
Harry and Ron shared a look. Since when had those two started talking like Fred and George? Oblivious, Hermione scowled and moved on to her last shot.
"No, look." Amy put slashes between certain letters so that it now read DER/RATTENGIFT/IST/IN/DER/NAHE/VON/DIE/SCHLANGE. "Der Rattengift ist in der Nahe von die Schalnge. Remus, it makes sense!"
"And it means?" Snape prompted.
"The rat poison is close to the snake. It's German, one of my roommates was from Germany." Amy was looking up at them expectantly.
"If that's true . . ." Lupin blinked.
"We have to tell the rest," Snape added. "Then - well, you, of course," he said to Lupin.
"And probably you," the other man added. "And one of the Aurors, probably Tonks, it'll look better that way."
"Hey, no wait." Amy stood up, holding up her hands as if to keep the two of them apart. "Sure, just send everyone I care about on some suicidal mission that's going to last who knows how long . . . Sev, you've classes to teach!"
"And I'll note you as my substitute," he said calmly. "You know I need to go."
"Sev -"
"And someone has to keep him out of trouble," Lupin said with something that might have been a tight grin.
Amy looked back and forth between the two of them helplessly. "Look, when I said you needed to start agreeing more often than not, I meant that to be a sort of three way thing. I mean, you're supposed to agree with me, too."
Snape gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Look, we still have to get this past Dumbledore."
"He's going to agree, you know he is!"
"Yes, but it saves you perhaps half an hour of worrying." He raised an eyebrow.
She laughed slightly, sighing and shoving her hair out of her eyes. "Look, both of you: take care of each other."
"Promise." Snape kissed her cheek - in full sight of Lupin, in a room that was full of people who knew that was supposed to be just a charade - and strode off.
Lupin stuck his hands in his pockets. "Well, guess I should pack," he said lightly. "I'll let you know when we're leaving." He gave Amy a hug before going in another direction, up a set of circular stairs to his room.
Hermione finally set her quill down, looking at the boys. "That's our cue to leave," she said softly.
Nodding, Harry and Ron got up and followed her out the door.
* * * * *
The next night, Dumbledore made an announcement about how Professor Snape had been suddenly called away and Madam Amy would be taking his place until he returned. Even the Slytherins couldn't really scowl at this, not when Draco gained an even more malicious glint in his eye at the news.
"How good is she at Potions, do you suppose?" Ginny asked when they were again back in the Common Room. She and Hermione were - what else? - knitting, while Harry was teaching Ron how to play War with Exploding Snap cards.
"She has to be good," Hermione argued. "I mean, Healer . . . that's about as advanced as you can get, right up there with Auror, and no doubt she had to have fantastic NEWTs, including Potions."
"And as a teacher?" Harry asked. "Look, since we both had the same card, we put down two facedown - yeah - and flip up another."
"Hah!" Ron said with satisfaction as he won the double round, adding those cards to what until then had been his diminishing pile.
Hermione shrugged. "Knitting's a bit different than Potions, isn't it?"
"Like there's much to Potions," Ron snorted, wrinkling his nose as he lost a high card. "Put the directions on the board and then walk around mocking the people who can't follow them properly. Gee, sounds difficult."
"But then you have to test them," Hermione argued, "and know exactly how good it is from those tests."
"Well, we'll find out on Monday, won't we?"
Harry received an owl on Monday.
Harry -
Don't hate me (hah!) but I need the time to organize, Sev didn't leave very good notes. No O, this morning, same time next Monday.
Amy
Ron leaned over to read over his shoulder. "Cool, you can help me on the Dark Arts essay. Why shouldn't werewolves, vampires, and other part-humans be allowed to have jobs?"
Harry followed him into the library, though, the longer he stared at his essay, the more he hated it. Finally he tore the sheet of parchment in two - Ron went white; "What are you doing, you spent hours on that!" - and grabbed a fresh roll, arguing just the opposite of what they were supposed to. "Vampires, werewolves, and other part humans should be allowed to have jobs," he muttered as he restarted the essay. He was almost done when the time came to head down to the dungeons, and Ron was still in a state of shock.
"Harry, Defense Against the Dark Arts is your best subject," he argued. "You're just asking for a 'T' on that essay, you're not answering any of his questions the way he wants you to -"
"Ron, look at Lupin," Harry shot back, lowering his voice as they entered the classroom to take their usual places. "Do you honestly think he shouldn't be employed?"
That shut him up.
Amy came into the classroom on time, wearing robes that were a dark maroon. "Good morning, everyone," she said, rather cheerfully for Potions. "Now, before we begin, you're a lesson behind the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. I was going over your schedules and everyone has Friday afternoon free. I propose a make-up class, first thing after lunch. Comments?"
"Do we have any homework?" Draco drawled.
"An essay on the different strength of sleeping draughts, yes. Write that down so you won't forget. Sixteen inches, please."
Hermione immediately dove into her bag for her homework planner, though hers was silent.
Seamus raised his hand. "Due Friday?"
"No weekend homework."
The class started murmuring to themselves. Amy held up a hand. "Your essay due first thing next Monday. Class on Friday. Agreed?"
General assent.
"Good. Now, today we - and by 'we' I mean 'you'" - she grinned, actually getting a chuckle or at least a weak smile from every person in the room - "will be making one of the simplest sleeping draughts, meant only for a full night's dreamless sleep. You know the drill." Two flicks of her wand and the supply cupboard was open, the instructions on the board, and the class moved to begin.
It was certainly less stressful than a normal class. About ten minutes in, Amy called, "Don't forget to read all the instructions. As this can be a difficult potion to work well, you'll see periodic descriptions of what it should look like. Should you find a problem with your brew and have no idea how to fix it, alert me, as it may just be easiest to start form the beginning."
Neville, whose caldron held something the color of lead when it should have been a soft pink, gulped and looked around nervously. Hermione was next to him and, taking a deep breath, she began to help him put it to rights, completing her own at the same time.
They all finished at slightly different times, some having had to start over, others having made quick fixes, but eventually all bottles were corked and labeled on Snape's large black desk. Amy looked them all over as the class washed their hands in the icy spurt from the gargoyles mouth. "Let's see, five points to Gryffindor for a fine fix without any teacher intervention, five more for those willing to admit they'd messed up and started over, and five to Slytherin for the same. Good, scurry on to lunch."
"Ten points for us," Hermione said, grinning at Neville as he passed. "And only five for them!"
"That's because we have you, Hermione," Ron said, though his ears turned pink as he said it, though she blushed, as well.
"I suppose you think you're really something, Granger," Malfoy said as he passed, flanked, as every, by Crabbe and Goyle. "Your ego's too big to ever let you think you're in over your head and one day that's going to get you in trouble."
"Ignore him," Harry muttered as her eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at the retreating boys' backs. "He's just mad he couldn't have done it."
She shook her head. "Whatever Professor Lupin, Snape, and Tonks are up to, I hope it works. And I hope it hurts him, too. Come on, I'm starving. Let's eat."
* * * * *
A notice appeared on the bulletin board the second week of October, announcing a Hogsmeade visit the day before Halloween, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione had other things on their minds: homework, yes, but mostly Quidditch practice. Hermione had managed to convince Harry that they should take at least one night off a week, so Tuesdays found them in front of the Common Room fire, books piled around them as they hurriedly finished essays or researched a particularly tricky counter curse. The DA was still on Harry's mind, and they somehow managed at least a weekly meeting, though it was still hard to find a time that satisfied everyone. Harry had taken to informing Amy of when they were meeting instead of Professor Tobias, especially after he had handed in a certain werewolf, vampire, and other part-humans essay, one they had yet to get back.
Two Saturdays before Halloween Harry awoke suddenly at six in the morning. He'd been having a dream, one of those disconcerting falling ones, he was sure, but that was driven from his mind and he sat up quickly. Quidditch. His first game as captain. For some reason that made him feel as though he'd just eaten ten Peppermint Toads. It shouldn't make any difference, really, but it did. Quickly he dressed, trying not to disturb the others but, when he got down to the Common Room, he found the most comfortable chair taken.
"Hi," Ron said, staring into the fire. "I don't think I'm ready for this."
"More ready than last year," Harry pointed out, sinking onto a sofa. "And at least it's not Slytherin."
He snorted. "That doesn't mean they can't sing."
Around six thirty Ginny came down to join them. Hermione followed fifteen minutes later and Colin came down the boys' staircase soon after that. It was a mark of his nervousness that he only grinned weakly at Harry, taking a seat in silence. It seemed only the Beaters were not worried about the game, but then, as Ron pointed out, they were probably too thick to remember they had a game to play.
"Breakfast," Harry grunted when it was sufficiently late, suddenly relating to Oliver Wood in a way he really didn't think could have been possible. The team trooped down to breakfast and, though Harry dished out ample portions to everyone, they mostly moved it around on their plates, Harry included. Not for the first time he realized he would be playing against Cho, and that in itself was enough for him to push away the half eaten bits of toast and grimace slightly.
"Where are they?" Ginny murmured as the sun rose progressively higher. "We can't play without Beaters . . ."
Dennis Creevy bolted into the Great Hall, weaving his way in and out of the seventh year Hufflepuffs that dwarfed him. "Harry!" he gasped, clutching a stitch in his side. "You're two men short, the Beaters - they -"
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. "They what, Dennis?"
"They mistook the Vanishing Cabinet for a door."
Stunned silence.
"Professor McGonnagal is trying to extract them from the sinks on the second floor girl's bathroom, but they won't be able to play."
Harry threw down his fork. "Come on," he said to his team, saying nothing more until they had reached the Quidditch pitch. "If we forfeit this game, the Cup's as good as gone."
"Well, then how are we going to do it, Harry?" Ron asked, freckles standing out clearly against his slightly green skin.
He began to pace. "Hermione," he said quickly. "Is there anything in the rules about players being able to - to play with balls other than those specified for their position?"
"Only the Snitch, Harry, no one's allowed to touch that but the Seeker, but you can't go around with a bat, you'd never see it -"
"Okay, look." Harry drew his teammates into a huddle. "Hermione and Ginny: could you handle both a Beater bat and the Quaffle?"
They shared a look. "Just you," Ginny said to her friend. "You be our Beater, Colin and I will handle the Quaffle, and Harry had better catch that Snitch without delay."
"We are so dead," Ron proclaimed, but the school was coming down to take their places in the stands and Harry moved his team into the locker room to change. Hermione took a bat, turning it over in her sweaty hands, though her face was set.
"Time," Harry said, and, as they moved out onto the field, Professor Tobias announced them.
"He used to be a Keeper, I think," Ginny said grimly to the call of "Granger, Weasley, Creevy, Weasley, and Potter!"
"Captains shake hands," Madam Hooch said, and Harry gripped Alex Hayes' hand firmly. The boy offered him a smile, and Harry made an attempt to return it. At the call of "Mount your brooms!" Harry sung a leg over his trusty Firebolt, and he was off at the sound of the whistle, soaring high above the stadium.
"Weasley in control of the Quaffle!" The professor's magnified voice echoed around the stadium. "She passes to Creevy, he avoids a Bludger, he shoots - Gryffindor goal!"
Harry did a loop-the-loop, trying to tell himself that this would work, it had to work, he had to fins the Snitch . . . For the first time he glanced over at the blue-robed figure who had been watching him closely, starting when he realized it wasn't Cho.
Their Seeker was a boy, second year by the size of him, wearing thick horn- rimmed glasses, with blonde curls falling across his forehead. A gasp from the crowd brought him back to the game: the Snitch was flitting around Gryffindor's goalposts. Harry grabbed his broom tightly, urging it forward, but he had to duck to avoid Ron as he dove for a save and, in that instant, the Snitch was gone.
"'s all right, Harry," Ron gasped, throwing the Quaffle back into play. "Hermione's already clubbed them twice, it's great . . ."
"Great" was actually a true statement: she had taken to being a Beater as naturally has Harry had taken to flying. "And it's Weasley with the Quaffle, Weasley blocked by Roberts, Roberts speeding toward the goal, Roberts is blocked by Creevy - look at him fly! Wait - what was that?"
They all knew what it was, and Harry's problem was that the other Seeker was closer, in the better position to strike, but the Firebolt was gaining, the gold was glinting just on the other side of a Ravenclaw Chaser, their Seeker didn't want to get in the way, Harry knocked him aside . . . just a little further . . . his fingers closed around the cold metal, wings beating uselessly against them, raising it high and not even looking at the Chaser, who took it upon himself to punch him in the stomach, winding him, throwing him off balance . . . The fall was in slow motion, it was thirty feet to the ground at least . . .
Ginny was closest, and she managed to grab his arm, but her grip was not secure and she was only managing to slow him slightly, not to stop him. Madam Hooch was at the other end of the field, she'd never make it in time, especially when she was yelling at Ravenclaw . . .
A voice below them shouted something. Harry caught a glimpse of the relief on Ginny's face as they slowed, stopped, and he clambered onto the back of her broom, grabbing her around the waist as she soared up and allowed him to retrieve his Firebolt. "Thanks," Harry gasped as they touched down.
Hermione came rushing toward them, bat still in hand. "Oh, Harry, are you all right? Amy stopped your fall, you're lucky, I don't know that one yet . . ."
Amy was beside him, putting a hand on his forehead. "Are you all right?"
He almost laughed. "I'm fine, really - we won, Hermione, Ron said you were amazing -"
"Too right she was!" Ron called, circling down to join them.
"Harry, Harry! We won, Harry, I scored!" Colin was zipping around over their heads like Pig when he was exited, a small bundle of way too much energy.
Amy squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Promise me you'll have some chocolate at the party and I think you'll be okay."
Grinning, he waved to show he heard, as it was about then that the rest of Gryffindor House converged on him, burying him under pats on the bag and enthusiastic hugs.
"Well, what does it look like?" Harry said, trying to be patient.
"I've only the one," she shot back, irritated. "Don't tell me I left it again."
"Bit forgetful, isn't she?" Ron asked, playing out a round of Solitaire with Exploding Snap cards, just to make it a bit more interesting.
Hermione sighed. "Well, we're not getting any help from him. Come with me, Harry?"
"Sure," he agreed, following her to the hospital wing, which was empty. "Strange," he commented. "I thought she'd be talking to Snape or something."
"And that they'd do it out in the open? Honestly." She rolled her eyes. "They're probably in the back. I wouldn't interrupt them, but I want Dobby's sweater done for Christmas . . ." Pulling aside the tapestry, she knocked on the door.
It was opened almost immediately, though Snape's eyes darkened when he saw who it was. "What do you want, Potter?"
"Sir, I think I left my knitting here," Hermione said, trying to sound innocent and reasonable. "If I could just speak to Amy -"
"Is that Moody?" Charlie's voice came from the left, and then he was in the doorway, widening the crack. "Where is he? Well, what brings you here?" He ran a hand through his hair, looking rather stressed.
"What's going on?" Harry asked before Hermione could form another plea for her knitting. "Did something else happen?" His scar hadn't tingled, but still . . . what if that only meant his Occlumency lessons were working?
"It's none of your business, Potter," Snape growled, showing his yellowing teeth.
"If it involves my godmother it is too my business," he shot back. "Did something else happen?"
Tonks came up then, tucking herself under Charlie's arm and looking distinctly unhappy. Her eyes were red, her hair was black, and it was lying flat. "Wotcher, Harry," she sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "You haven't seen Mad-Eye around, have you?"
"Tonks, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking more than a little concerned. "Are you all right?"
She snorted. "Minor crisis, no need to panic."
Amy came up then, crowding the doorframe, glaring at the mirror in her hand. "Why is it that when I least want to see him he's always there? Where is he now? I'm tempted to smash this . . . Either of you two seen Moody?" She seemed to have just realized why everyone was gathered around the door.
"No," Harry said, exasperated. "Why do you want him?"
"So she can two-time me," Snape said dryly. "Now, if you two would kindly -"
"Oh, hush," Amy said, shoving her hair out of her face.
"They might as well know," Tonks said with a sigh. "I mean, sheesh, not like your family can get any worse . . ."
Five minutes later they were in the chairs around the fire. Lupin had come out to join them as soon as it was apparent everyone present knew he was there, and he, Amy, Tonks, and Charlie were sitting on the couch in that order, clutching mugs of hot chocolate.
"My mum just wrote me," Tonks began, staring unseeingly into the fireplace. "She left when I was fourteen, sent Dad into a tizzy. He couldn't handle having me there, so Amy took me in for a good number of holidays, until he'd managed to convince himself she was dead or something."
"What's that have to do with the mirror?" Harry asked, warming his hands on his own mug.
Amy laughed humorlessly. "I was trying to contact Lucius," she said bitterly. "See, Anna said she'd joined Bella -"
"Who?"
"Tonks's mum. Andromeda, but we call her Anna. And Bellatrix is always Bella."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Lupin's mouth. "And Narcissa?"
"Sissy," Amy said with satisfaction. "But anyway, Anna said she'd finally seen the light and gone to join Bella and all them, so we're trying to figure out whether or not it's true."
"And Professor Moody's missing?" Hermione asked. "That can't be good."
"He went into Hogsmeade, to see if rumors were flying," Charlie said. "If he's gone longer, it might mean he's heard more."
Harry licked his lips. "But I thought . . . Anna . . . was blasted off the tapestry because she married a Muggle, because she didn't hold with the family."
"So did we," Amy and Tonks said in unison. "But neither of us have seen her in years," the healer continued. "And no one really knows why she left in the first place. But she knows Tonks is here. Or, at least, someone close enough to the family to know a lot knows she's here."
"Like Bella or Sissy," Tonks said.
"Hence the mirror," Lupin concluded. "Because Lucius would know." He immediately took a drink of his chocolate as if to wash down the bitterness of the name, and Amy leaned against him, looking for all the world as if she could fall asleep right there.
"Enough," Snape said, standing up and herding Harry and Hermione out.
"Well, at least that explains why Tonks and Amy are so close," Harry said as they rounded the corner to the fat lady.
Hermione nodded slowly. "Piggle-wink. I think," she said as they climbed through the portrait hole, "that something strange is going on. There's more than any of them are letting on, you know."
"Tell me about it," Harry muttered as the picture swung shut behind them. "I think there's more than you're letting on."
She smiled and was about to make a no doubt cutting remark when she gasped.
"What? What is it?"
"My knitting! Oh, drat. I'll have to get it tomorrow."
* * * * *
The next two weeks fairly flew by, what with the DA, Quidditch practice, homework, and Occlumency lessons. October dawned clear and bright, a false hint of warm weather in the breeze. Any given afternoon the Quidditch pitch was sure to be put to use by one team or another, though mostly Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, as they had the first match coming up. Cho hadn't been made captain, even though she was the only seventh year; it was a fifth year instead, Alex Hayes, their Keeper. It was also only his second year on the team, so Harry wasn't too worried.
Care of Magical Creatures had improved drastically when Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and most of the Slytherins had dropped it, and now they were back to things as exiting as hippogriffs, if marginally less dangerous. Defense Against the Dark Arts was rather easy, concentrating on defensive spells at the moment - Dean had complained about this, too, but Professor Tobias said that, once they started learning a bit more of the Dark Arts, they'd be glad for the shields, and he'd shut up - simple things that the DA had already mastered. Transfiguration was moving slowly toward turning desks into pigs and even Ron was improving more quickly than usual. He was liable to whip out his wand and turn a quill into something - usually living - and back before the owner of the quill had a chance to squeak. Charms had them levitating themselves. Neville was showing the same determination as he did in the DA and levitated himself so quickly on the forth try that he cracked his head on the ceiling and had to be taken to the hospital wing for a broken leg, but he seemed in great spirits when he regained consciousness three hours later. Even Occlumency was far more enjoyable than Harry ever thought it could be when Snape had been teaching it. The only problem was Potions.
No doubt about it, Snape still hated him. It showed in the way he swooped about the dungeons, peering into caldrons and just watching with narrowed eyes as they chopped their roots and mashed their beetles. He didn't say much to Harry. He couldn't, really; it had not taken the school long to bite on the Snape/Amy pairing, and it was common knowledge as well that Hermione and Ginny were good friends with Amy, and that their school nurse also was rather fond of Harry. Putting this together, Snape could not very well victimize his favorite victim without upsetting his supposed fiancée, so Harry was safe. Still, being ignored was rather unnerving, as he had no idea what sort of marks he was getting in that class. Also, Snape had developed the habit of hanging around Hermione more than usual, on odd days, once every two lessons or so, just scrutinizing the way she measured her armadillo bile or stirred the mixture in her cauldron, though he never said anything, and she never complained.
When Harry went to his Occlumency lesson the next Monday, my wasn't yet in her office, but Professor Lupin was in a chair by the fire, Daily Prophet in hand. He looked up when the door opened, not anxious, merely interested, as he and Snape had enchanted the tapestry only to be pulled back by certain people, all of whom knew he was there. "Take a seat, Harry," he said cheerfully. "She just realized we're almost out of Pepperup Potion - we used enough yesterday on some of those first years - and is making up a new batch. How're things with you?"
"Good," Harry said truthfully, sinking into another armchair. "Er - Professor?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"I was just wondering . . . I mean, I like not having dreams about locked doors and not having a headache all the time, but . . . well . . ."
"You're used to knowing what Voldemort's feeling and don't like being so totally in the dark?" Lupin finished, folding up the paper.
Harry blinked. "Well, yeah. I mean, not like it was tons of fun or anything, but still . . ."
The werewolf smiled. "Understood, but -"
"Argh!" Amy came into the room, grabbing some sort of power from a pot by the fireplace and throwing it in. "Severus! I'm out of lithelweed again!" Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she finally saw Harry and his expression. "Oh, hi. Sorry, this is just really annoying - that stuff keeps disappearing . . ."
Something appeared in the fireplace, revolving quickly, and a moment later Snape stepped out. "I told you to put a lock on your door," he said reproachfully. "Even private stores aren't safe . . ." His eyes roved to Harry, who merely glared back. It hadn't been him either of the times something had gone missing from Snape's office; first it was Hermione and then Dobby, the house-elf, but there was no way he was going to explain that and get them in trouble.
"No one would take it," she replied irritably, plopping into a chair. "Not even other professors. Lithelweed is used exclusively in healing potions. You don't even study it until third year Healer training!"
"Maybe it's an over-zealous house-elf," Lupin suggested, lifting the paper again. "Believe me, that stuff stinks . . ."
"And I don't have any in my stores," Snape added. "You cleaned me out last week."
Amy snorted. "Be grateful. I've seen enough runny noses to last until summer. Remus?" she asked sweetly.
He sighed, putting the paper away. "Gee, I have the sudden urge to go to Hogsmead."
"Thanks. Just a - no, take two bags." Amy tossed him a small coin purse. "And while you're at it, stop in at Honeydukes and get some of those boulders of chocolate, they keep forever . . ."
"Anything else?" he asked, bowing slightly.
She grinned. "Surprise me."
Rolling his eyes, Lupin left. Amy turned to the Potions professor. "Sorry about that, Sev. You can go back to whatever."
"I think I'd rather witness an Occlumency lesson, just to see how Potter's improving," he said, seating himself in the chair Lupin recently vacated. "That is, if you don't mind."
Harry's stomach did a little flip-flop. Mind? Of course he'd mind! But it wasn't like he could say it. Amy glanced at him, but he nodded. "Go on, hit me," he said, hoping he didn't sound as miserable as he felt.
Knowing Harry only tolerated the indecency of yoga without anyone else present, she nodded. "Legilimens," she said firmly, wand pointed at him.
Harry was desperately trying to clear his mind, eyes closed. Nothing . . . Snape breathing down the back of his neck as he tried to make a Forgetfulness Potion . . . nothing . . . nothing . . . Snape . . . Snape in Umbridge's office, sneering at him . . . Snape and Sirius, fighting . . . nothing . . . a desperate nothing . . . Sirius . . . Sirius . . . with a wrench Harry fought against it . . . Sirius . . . Sirius laughing and sweeping a young Amy out of the window seat because their godson had just been born . . .
He actually felt himself relax against the back of the seat. Sirius, grinning out of the photo from his parent's wedding . . . Sirius, staring after Amy and Lupin when he'd asked her for tea . . . nothing . . .
Harry opened his eyes. Amy was staring at him, but Snape was standing. "Class in five minutes, Potter."
He blinked. Five minutes? But that meant he'd been under the curse for at least an hour . . . "Harry, that was wonderful!" Amy gushed as soon as the door was closed. "Amazing! No wand or anything . . . why, a few more lessons and you won't even go under!"
"It didn't seem too hard that time," he admitted weakly, accepting the Chocolate Frog she tossed him. "It was almost - easy."
Amy nodded. "It's supposed to be easy. Now, get down there before Sev comes after me for making you late."
* * * * *
Ginny scowled crossly at her homework. "Find a person you don't know too well and interpret their dreams, my foot," she snarled at the parchment. "What does she expect me to do, waltz up to Malfoy and ask him if he's had a pleasant night's sleep?"
"I made that up," Harry told her. "Said I had a pen friend in Bolivia and then gave him a couple dreams. All meaning death in horrible ways, of course."
She was about to reply when she perked up. "Oy! Amy!"
"Shh!" Madame Pince said harshly, glaring at them. "This is the library!"
"Yes, that's what you call it when there are all these books," Harry muttered, but Amy was headed their way, a few books under her arms.
"You beckoned?" she asked, setting them down. Hermione actually looked up from her homework long enough to glance at the titles - things like When is a Cold Not a Cold? and Potions for the Elite - before going back to her Arithmancy essay.
Ginny nodded. "I don't suppose you've had any good dreams in the past couple nights."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "Divination?"
She nodded.
"Well, let me see . . . and you'll never know if I'm making them up, so . . ." Her eyes twinkled. "Two nights ago - you need the date, right?"
"Mmm-hmm." Ginny was poised for notes.
"Well, then. Two nights ago I dreamed I was running . . . in the mountains . . . with a wolf." She winked at Harry. Two nights ago had been a full moon. "And we were going somewhere . . ."
"Shopping?" Harry suggested.
"Yes, we wanted to go shopping, but we weren't getting any closer to the stores. It was exhausting . . . and then I woke up. Good?"
The girl frowned, tickling her chin with the end of her quill. "You took Divination didn't you?"
"You mean so that I know there's going to be a connection between me and the wolf, and the mountains are high, lofty places, so it'll be some profound connection - and let's see, the shopping thing . . . there's something we're looking for, but it's not to be found." She shrugged. "Ah, well. Can't have everything."
Ginny was scribbling like mad to get the entire prediction down. "Uh, okay . . . anything last night? We're supposed to try for more than one."
"Last night . . . I dreamed I was at a party." Amy was speaking slowly, but this was a real dream, not one made up to help someone with her homework. "It was like a ghost party, everyone there was white, but they were solid. I was the only thing in color, but they couldn't see me. Or touch me, either. So it was like I was some spirit or something, floating around and listening to what they were saying."
"What was that?" Ginny asked, ink smeared on her cheek where she had brushed away some of her hair.
Amy shrugged. I" don't remember. It was strange, like in another language, but I think I understood it."
Harry watched Ginny page through her book. "Great, give me a complicated one."
"No problem." Amy grinned. "Is that good?"
"Yeah, thanks, this is great. I think -"
But Ginny was cut off by Madame Pince. "Out! Out! Shoo!" She was hopping around, waving her hands at a large brown barn owl, but the owl was intent on its delivery, landing in front of Amy and letting her take the letter before it took off.
She smoothed it out.
Ames -
A little help, here?
Sev
"Help?" Harry asked, but there was another sheet.
EGNALHCSEIDNOVEHANREDNITSITFIGNETTARSAD
Hermione frowned. "Is that supposed to make sense?"
"Supposed to," Amy said slowly. "It's probably for the Order, something intercepted, but I have no idea . . ."
"If it's intercepted it's probably in code," Harry said, "and that means we wouldn't know what it meant even if we figured it out, right?"
Amy rolled her eyes. "Look, you want to work on this, only in my office, all right? I'm not going to leave this nonsense lying around." She waved the parchment.
Hermione snapped her book shut. "Well, let's go now, shall we?"
"I'll go get Ron," Ginny said, scanning the rows of books. "He's got to be around her somewhere . . ." She scampered off.
Amy shrugged. "Come on - no, wait, go ahead, should check these out first -" And she hurried over to Madam Pince before the other woman could shoot her with another piercing stare.
* * * * *
Amy was glaring at the parchment as if she could set it on fire with her vision. Hermione, quill in hand, was trying the last three rounds of letter substitution she could think of. Lupin was staring out the window blankly, focused on solving the message. Snape was pacing around her office, robes billowing. And Harry and Ron had reverted to tic-tac-toe.
"Sev, I'm going to demand my Saturday back," Amy muttered, picking up the parchment and trying to pronounce it. "Egg-nalc-seid-nove-han-red-nits-it- fig-net-tar-sad. Simple: if you have eggs and red nits, wash your hair in sad tar. Are you sure this isn't a decoy?"
He nodded as he passed. "The other four were definitely fake. If any one of these is real, this one is."
"And you think it's . . ." Lupin trailed off when Snape nodded. "So we need this."
"Good luck," Hermione said, moving on to her last two substitutions and finally looking frustrated. "There's nothing in it. It's completely stupid."
Amy laughed, picking up the parchment and holding it up to the light as if that might help. "Well, if you're going by IQ, yes, Hermione, this bit of parchment and ink is stupid."
"Don't tell me they've finally outwitted us," Snape muttered, crossing to Amy and looking over her shoulder. "You've cracked all the other ones in record time. We only acted on the easy ones, they can't have thought we got them all . . ."
She snorted, turning the parchment over and trying to read it through the back.
"That's not very encouraging," Snape muttered.
"It had to be this one." Lupin thumped a fist against the glass. "Of course, the thing we're really waiting for . . . great."
DERRATTENGIFTISTINDERNAHEVONDIESCHLANGE. Amy had written it out slowly, checking every letter. "Merlin's beard, they're idiots," she muttered.
Snape and Lupin were immediately at her side, eyes raking this small scrap of parchment for information. "That's encouraging," Snape said dryly.
"Yes, almost makes us feel dumb," Lupin added.
Harry and Ron shared a look. Since when had those two started talking like Fred and George? Oblivious, Hermione scowled and moved on to her last shot.
"No, look." Amy put slashes between certain letters so that it now read DER/RATTENGIFT/IST/IN/DER/NAHE/VON/DIE/SCHLANGE. "Der Rattengift ist in der Nahe von die Schalnge. Remus, it makes sense!"
"And it means?" Snape prompted.
"The rat poison is close to the snake. It's German, one of my roommates was from Germany." Amy was looking up at them expectantly.
"If that's true . . ." Lupin blinked.
"We have to tell the rest," Snape added. "Then - well, you, of course," he said to Lupin.
"And probably you," the other man added. "And one of the Aurors, probably Tonks, it'll look better that way."
"Hey, no wait." Amy stood up, holding up her hands as if to keep the two of them apart. "Sure, just send everyone I care about on some suicidal mission that's going to last who knows how long . . . Sev, you've classes to teach!"
"And I'll note you as my substitute," he said calmly. "You know I need to go."
"Sev -"
"And someone has to keep him out of trouble," Lupin said with something that might have been a tight grin.
Amy looked back and forth between the two of them helplessly. "Look, when I said you needed to start agreeing more often than not, I meant that to be a sort of three way thing. I mean, you're supposed to agree with me, too."
Snape gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Look, we still have to get this past Dumbledore."
"He's going to agree, you know he is!"
"Yes, but it saves you perhaps half an hour of worrying." He raised an eyebrow.
She laughed slightly, sighing and shoving her hair out of her eyes. "Look, both of you: take care of each other."
"Promise." Snape kissed her cheek - in full sight of Lupin, in a room that was full of people who knew that was supposed to be just a charade - and strode off.
Lupin stuck his hands in his pockets. "Well, guess I should pack," he said lightly. "I'll let you know when we're leaving." He gave Amy a hug before going in another direction, up a set of circular stairs to his room.
Hermione finally set her quill down, looking at the boys. "That's our cue to leave," she said softly.
Nodding, Harry and Ron got up and followed her out the door.
* * * * *
The next night, Dumbledore made an announcement about how Professor Snape had been suddenly called away and Madam Amy would be taking his place until he returned. Even the Slytherins couldn't really scowl at this, not when Draco gained an even more malicious glint in his eye at the news.
"How good is she at Potions, do you suppose?" Ginny asked when they were again back in the Common Room. She and Hermione were - what else? - knitting, while Harry was teaching Ron how to play War with Exploding Snap cards.
"She has to be good," Hermione argued. "I mean, Healer . . . that's about as advanced as you can get, right up there with Auror, and no doubt she had to have fantastic NEWTs, including Potions."
"And as a teacher?" Harry asked. "Look, since we both had the same card, we put down two facedown - yeah - and flip up another."
"Hah!" Ron said with satisfaction as he won the double round, adding those cards to what until then had been his diminishing pile.
Hermione shrugged. "Knitting's a bit different than Potions, isn't it?"
"Like there's much to Potions," Ron snorted, wrinkling his nose as he lost a high card. "Put the directions on the board and then walk around mocking the people who can't follow them properly. Gee, sounds difficult."
"But then you have to test them," Hermione argued, "and know exactly how good it is from those tests."
"Well, we'll find out on Monday, won't we?"
Harry received an owl on Monday.
Harry -
Don't hate me (hah!) but I need the time to organize, Sev didn't leave very good notes. No O, this morning, same time next Monday.
Amy
Ron leaned over to read over his shoulder. "Cool, you can help me on the Dark Arts essay. Why shouldn't werewolves, vampires, and other part-humans be allowed to have jobs?"
Harry followed him into the library, though, the longer he stared at his essay, the more he hated it. Finally he tore the sheet of parchment in two - Ron went white; "What are you doing, you spent hours on that!" - and grabbed a fresh roll, arguing just the opposite of what they were supposed to. "Vampires, werewolves, and other part humans should be allowed to have jobs," he muttered as he restarted the essay. He was almost done when the time came to head down to the dungeons, and Ron was still in a state of shock.
"Harry, Defense Against the Dark Arts is your best subject," he argued. "You're just asking for a 'T' on that essay, you're not answering any of his questions the way he wants you to -"
"Ron, look at Lupin," Harry shot back, lowering his voice as they entered the classroom to take their usual places. "Do you honestly think he shouldn't be employed?"
That shut him up.
Amy came into the classroom on time, wearing robes that were a dark maroon. "Good morning, everyone," she said, rather cheerfully for Potions. "Now, before we begin, you're a lesson behind the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. I was going over your schedules and everyone has Friday afternoon free. I propose a make-up class, first thing after lunch. Comments?"
"Do we have any homework?" Draco drawled.
"An essay on the different strength of sleeping draughts, yes. Write that down so you won't forget. Sixteen inches, please."
Hermione immediately dove into her bag for her homework planner, though hers was silent.
Seamus raised his hand. "Due Friday?"
"No weekend homework."
The class started murmuring to themselves. Amy held up a hand. "Your essay due first thing next Monday. Class on Friday. Agreed?"
General assent.
"Good. Now, today we - and by 'we' I mean 'you'" - she grinned, actually getting a chuckle or at least a weak smile from every person in the room - "will be making one of the simplest sleeping draughts, meant only for a full night's dreamless sleep. You know the drill." Two flicks of her wand and the supply cupboard was open, the instructions on the board, and the class moved to begin.
It was certainly less stressful than a normal class. About ten minutes in, Amy called, "Don't forget to read all the instructions. As this can be a difficult potion to work well, you'll see periodic descriptions of what it should look like. Should you find a problem with your brew and have no idea how to fix it, alert me, as it may just be easiest to start form the beginning."
Neville, whose caldron held something the color of lead when it should have been a soft pink, gulped and looked around nervously. Hermione was next to him and, taking a deep breath, she began to help him put it to rights, completing her own at the same time.
They all finished at slightly different times, some having had to start over, others having made quick fixes, but eventually all bottles were corked and labeled on Snape's large black desk. Amy looked them all over as the class washed their hands in the icy spurt from the gargoyles mouth. "Let's see, five points to Gryffindor for a fine fix without any teacher intervention, five more for those willing to admit they'd messed up and started over, and five to Slytherin for the same. Good, scurry on to lunch."
"Ten points for us," Hermione said, grinning at Neville as he passed. "And only five for them!"
"That's because we have you, Hermione," Ron said, though his ears turned pink as he said it, though she blushed, as well.
"I suppose you think you're really something, Granger," Malfoy said as he passed, flanked, as every, by Crabbe and Goyle. "Your ego's too big to ever let you think you're in over your head and one day that's going to get you in trouble."
"Ignore him," Harry muttered as her eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at the retreating boys' backs. "He's just mad he couldn't have done it."
She shook her head. "Whatever Professor Lupin, Snape, and Tonks are up to, I hope it works. And I hope it hurts him, too. Come on, I'm starving. Let's eat."
* * * * *
A notice appeared on the bulletin board the second week of October, announcing a Hogsmeade visit the day before Halloween, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione had other things on their minds: homework, yes, but mostly Quidditch practice. Hermione had managed to convince Harry that they should take at least one night off a week, so Tuesdays found them in front of the Common Room fire, books piled around them as they hurriedly finished essays or researched a particularly tricky counter curse. The DA was still on Harry's mind, and they somehow managed at least a weekly meeting, though it was still hard to find a time that satisfied everyone. Harry had taken to informing Amy of when they were meeting instead of Professor Tobias, especially after he had handed in a certain werewolf, vampire, and other part-humans essay, one they had yet to get back.
Two Saturdays before Halloween Harry awoke suddenly at six in the morning. He'd been having a dream, one of those disconcerting falling ones, he was sure, but that was driven from his mind and he sat up quickly. Quidditch. His first game as captain. For some reason that made him feel as though he'd just eaten ten Peppermint Toads. It shouldn't make any difference, really, but it did. Quickly he dressed, trying not to disturb the others but, when he got down to the Common Room, he found the most comfortable chair taken.
"Hi," Ron said, staring into the fire. "I don't think I'm ready for this."
"More ready than last year," Harry pointed out, sinking onto a sofa. "And at least it's not Slytherin."
He snorted. "That doesn't mean they can't sing."
Around six thirty Ginny came down to join them. Hermione followed fifteen minutes later and Colin came down the boys' staircase soon after that. It was a mark of his nervousness that he only grinned weakly at Harry, taking a seat in silence. It seemed only the Beaters were not worried about the game, but then, as Ron pointed out, they were probably too thick to remember they had a game to play.
"Breakfast," Harry grunted when it was sufficiently late, suddenly relating to Oliver Wood in a way he really didn't think could have been possible. The team trooped down to breakfast and, though Harry dished out ample portions to everyone, they mostly moved it around on their plates, Harry included. Not for the first time he realized he would be playing against Cho, and that in itself was enough for him to push away the half eaten bits of toast and grimace slightly.
"Where are they?" Ginny murmured as the sun rose progressively higher. "We can't play without Beaters . . ."
Dennis Creevy bolted into the Great Hall, weaving his way in and out of the seventh year Hufflepuffs that dwarfed him. "Harry!" he gasped, clutching a stitch in his side. "You're two men short, the Beaters - they -"
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. "They what, Dennis?"
"They mistook the Vanishing Cabinet for a door."
Stunned silence.
"Professor McGonnagal is trying to extract them from the sinks on the second floor girl's bathroom, but they won't be able to play."
Harry threw down his fork. "Come on," he said to his team, saying nothing more until they had reached the Quidditch pitch. "If we forfeit this game, the Cup's as good as gone."
"Well, then how are we going to do it, Harry?" Ron asked, freckles standing out clearly against his slightly green skin.
He began to pace. "Hermione," he said quickly. "Is there anything in the rules about players being able to - to play with balls other than those specified for their position?"
"Only the Snitch, Harry, no one's allowed to touch that but the Seeker, but you can't go around with a bat, you'd never see it -"
"Okay, look." Harry drew his teammates into a huddle. "Hermione and Ginny: could you handle both a Beater bat and the Quaffle?"
They shared a look. "Just you," Ginny said to her friend. "You be our Beater, Colin and I will handle the Quaffle, and Harry had better catch that Snitch without delay."
"We are so dead," Ron proclaimed, but the school was coming down to take their places in the stands and Harry moved his team into the locker room to change. Hermione took a bat, turning it over in her sweaty hands, though her face was set.
"Time," Harry said, and, as they moved out onto the field, Professor Tobias announced them.
"He used to be a Keeper, I think," Ginny said grimly to the call of "Granger, Weasley, Creevy, Weasley, and Potter!"
"Captains shake hands," Madam Hooch said, and Harry gripped Alex Hayes' hand firmly. The boy offered him a smile, and Harry made an attempt to return it. At the call of "Mount your brooms!" Harry sung a leg over his trusty Firebolt, and he was off at the sound of the whistle, soaring high above the stadium.
"Weasley in control of the Quaffle!" The professor's magnified voice echoed around the stadium. "She passes to Creevy, he avoids a Bludger, he shoots - Gryffindor goal!"
Harry did a loop-the-loop, trying to tell himself that this would work, it had to work, he had to fins the Snitch . . . For the first time he glanced over at the blue-robed figure who had been watching him closely, starting when he realized it wasn't Cho.
Their Seeker was a boy, second year by the size of him, wearing thick horn- rimmed glasses, with blonde curls falling across his forehead. A gasp from the crowd brought him back to the game: the Snitch was flitting around Gryffindor's goalposts. Harry grabbed his broom tightly, urging it forward, but he had to duck to avoid Ron as he dove for a save and, in that instant, the Snitch was gone.
"'s all right, Harry," Ron gasped, throwing the Quaffle back into play. "Hermione's already clubbed them twice, it's great . . ."
"Great" was actually a true statement: she had taken to being a Beater as naturally has Harry had taken to flying. "And it's Weasley with the Quaffle, Weasley blocked by Roberts, Roberts speeding toward the goal, Roberts is blocked by Creevy - look at him fly! Wait - what was that?"
They all knew what it was, and Harry's problem was that the other Seeker was closer, in the better position to strike, but the Firebolt was gaining, the gold was glinting just on the other side of a Ravenclaw Chaser, their Seeker didn't want to get in the way, Harry knocked him aside . . . just a little further . . . his fingers closed around the cold metal, wings beating uselessly against them, raising it high and not even looking at the Chaser, who took it upon himself to punch him in the stomach, winding him, throwing him off balance . . . The fall was in slow motion, it was thirty feet to the ground at least . . .
Ginny was closest, and she managed to grab his arm, but her grip was not secure and she was only managing to slow him slightly, not to stop him. Madam Hooch was at the other end of the field, she'd never make it in time, especially when she was yelling at Ravenclaw . . .
A voice below them shouted something. Harry caught a glimpse of the relief on Ginny's face as they slowed, stopped, and he clambered onto the back of her broom, grabbing her around the waist as she soared up and allowed him to retrieve his Firebolt. "Thanks," Harry gasped as they touched down.
Hermione came rushing toward them, bat still in hand. "Oh, Harry, are you all right? Amy stopped your fall, you're lucky, I don't know that one yet . . ."
Amy was beside him, putting a hand on his forehead. "Are you all right?"
He almost laughed. "I'm fine, really - we won, Hermione, Ron said you were amazing -"
"Too right she was!" Ron called, circling down to join them.
"Harry, Harry! We won, Harry, I scored!" Colin was zipping around over their heads like Pig when he was exited, a small bundle of way too much energy.
Amy squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Promise me you'll have some chocolate at the party and I think you'll be okay."
Grinning, he waved to show he heard, as it was about then that the rest of Gryffindor House converged on him, burying him under pats on the bag and enthusiastic hugs.