Gryffindor-130 Points- Frogfoot is awarded 10 points for classic Gryffindor loyalty

Slytherin-230 Points- Milee receives 10 points for learning the importance of being patient

Ravenclaw- if you reviewed and I didn't count you tell me, or review this chapter and get some points for your House.

Huffelpuff- if you reviewed and I didn't count you tell me, or review this chapter and get some points for your House.

There were two anonymous reviewes that I could not assign to any House. If you review please tell me which House you belong to, I also know where you can find some good quizzes if you're interested in being sorted.

Chapter 41:

Snape seemed to have taken night shift, so it was the male who actually attended the first Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match of the year. Even with Harry-bloody-Potter the Gryffindors would have to work hard to win this match. But he chose not to say anything about the Slytherin Secret Weapon, instead, stoically, he accepted Black's offer of a five Galleon wager on the game's outcome.

As the male and his little entourage (made up of Black, a rapidly recovering Lupin, Tala, and the female) exited the school the mildly overcast sky didn't indicate rain. Nor did it imply any sort of high winds. A slight drizzle, that let up before the two teams even made it to the pitch, was all the bother the sky saw fit to bestow upon the gathered throng.

The male found the game amusing, but rather boring. Instead he focused on the female's reactions. She had never seen a British Quidditch match.

"This is not at all how we played in Durmstrang," she nearly pouted. "The first ten minutes and not even any blood! Let alone a substitution because of injury."

His lips did not move, but he knew his amusement was obvious to her. Black had been paying mild attention to what she had been saying, then had gone pale and focused on the game. 'Picturing little Potter out there with an opposing team like that. I think, given half the chance he would smother the boy in safety charms.' Which provided another amusing mental image. Tipping his head to indicate Black then glancing at the field, was all that the female needed to share in the joke…'But why? Why do we understand each other so easily? Starch and I communicate like this because he is a part of me- or I'm a part of him. She and I don't…have…any-'

The game was over. He blinked again the score was still the same, one hundred sixty to one hundred fifty. 'Another time gap, judging by the sun, this gap was at least four hours long-'

"Well?" Black was in his face, "You gonna take it or what?"

Dazedly he accepted the five Galleons that were spilt into his hand. The female gently pulled at his sleeve, subtly enough that no one seemed to notice.

"Oh yes I agree with you there," she carried the conversation for both of them as they made their way back to the castle. "Your new Beater is something worth seeing. I think that Livida Sperare will need careful watching over. The professional league is dominated by Durmstrang graduates, with good reason. But it seems Hogwarts has a few gems in her pockets."

@--'---,--------------

Sirius' annoyance with the male over the bet was forgotten when he spotted his godson, practically crawling away from the pitch. "Harry!" He called then jogged to catch up. "Harry, that was a great game."

"We lost." He said it like Sirius had forgotten how the game was played.

Sirius grabbed one Gryffindor red sleeve before Harry could hide in the locker room. "You played your heart out Harry, no one could ask for more."

"I should have waited," Harry's frustration came through in the tears collecting on his lashes. "If I hadn't tipped Malfoy about the snitch we could have scored a few goals. Even two would have been enough."

Sirius remembered all the times he had watched Remus talk to James after a loss. 'Now it's my turn I guess…fat lot that helps. What would Remus do?'  He pulled Harry away from the door and back toward the now empty stands. His godson had grown some, but hadn't inherited his father's height, which made it easier to push him into a seat. "Harry," Sirius waited for the Lilly-green eyes to glance his way. "Do you think Malfoy is a hopeless Seeker?"

Harry hunched his shoulders and grudgingly admitted, "Not really, I guess. I mean he's gotten better since first year."

"Then there's the possibility that he would have gotten the Snitch if you had tried to throw it, right?" A pathetic –Guess'o- was all he got. "James lost games for his team y'know."

Harry shot Sirius a look for the slight against his father.

"We were best friends, you know that," He added quickly. "But I knew that he wasn't playing his best all the time. Some times he was distracted, thinking about a quiz, or a certain git of a Slytherin. Sometimes he was just in a bad mood, or hungry. When he played his best and still lost, no one that really mattered to him felt let down. You don't think Ron and Hermione feel bad because Harry lost the game do you?"

The way his godfather had stopped at Harry, like he was just a guy and not some super-hero, connected. Harry took a deep breath and nodded.

"Harry." Sirius lay a hand on one young shoulder and squeezed, 'I wonder if this is how Remus felt when he grabbed my shoulder the day after I fell off the stairs. Was Moony unable, for once, to come up with the right words too?'  The thought was strangely comforting. "You didn't let your friends or your team down. And you didn't let me down either." When Harry gave him an acknowledging grin, Sirius immediately moved back to less volatile ground. "So, who're you taking to the dance?"

~

Ron and Hermione sashayed into the Dining Hall, arm in arm, and looking exactly as Sleeping Beauty and her true love should.

The general guideline of, "…something Muggle, preferably from their literature or a specific time era…" was observed, even by Slytherin House. Though five Slytherins who had strongly protested the whole, "Get in touch with your inner Muggle," idea, wore their usual black robes and cloaks. (When asked they said that they had come as Gregorian Monks.)

The male waited motionlessly in the dark as Albus stood and raised his hands for quiet.

"The purpose of tonight's festivities is to have fun." The Headmaster waited a moment for the cheering/howling to stop. Then continued, with a chuckle. "Several activities and traditional foods based upon the Muggle celebration of Halloween have been prepared." This wasn't exactly news, nearly everyone had already started trying the odd pies and candies that were laid out on the, deceptively small, tables scattered around the edges of the Dining Hall. "I am also pleased to introduce to you a very special musical group called, Nearly Princes…"

The lighting rebalanced and a stage became more obvious. The band was made up of, what appeared to be, bondage-clad punks. All had their heads bowed and seemed, not so much frozen, as waiting for some spark of life to set them in motion.

Speaking with his head still lowered, the lead singer's slightly accented voice drifted over the assembly.  "Some time in the mid to late seventies, The Ministry began passing new regulations that the younger generation felt were unacceptably restrictive..." His soft speech and slow trailing into silence added to the not-quite-animate air that they all held. "In response they began a form of passive protest. Identifying themselves with oppressed or slave races… Some went so far as to join Centaur herds or dress and work as House Elves… Others, like ourselves looked further back…and found an obvious parallel between the current times and the political and social climate that allowed for the enslavement of the Garoms… Leather harnesses and collars," one of his hands seemed to have decided to raise itself to indicate the costume he wore, "torn shirts and pants became a symbol for the overall protest… Bands, like ours, that jumped the gap and played in Muggle clubs and taverns were the foundation for the Muggle Goth subculture… Your Headmaster has asked us to come tonight, to give you a chance to feel the connections between Magic and Muggle…between time and place…thought and voice…This will be one of our usual performances, which means that no Magic will be used…"

The male heard the quiet noises of children asking their friends if they knew what was going on. Some looked around for Muggle-borns that they knew, but most waited to see what would happen next.

The band ran through a selection of slow Muggle rock from the late seventies and early eighties, Hotel California being the most energetic thing they touched before their first break

After the first song (or two) dancers were back in the clear space in front of the platform. Some danced alone, swaying and weaving as they felt the music pulling them. Others lay their heads on the shoulder of their partner and listened to the beating heart and sighing breaths.

~

"Have you guys seen Sunna Clausen?" Harry asked when he finally caught up with Ron and Hermione. "My Wand is missing."

Ron instantly forgot about timing his steps. "Harry, taking some one's Wand is serious, if you're sure it was her then we need to tell the Headmaster." Anything to get out of proving what a bad dancer he was!

Hermione laughed and shook her head at Ron. "Not his real Wand, the Wand for his costume…he's a Muggle Magician…" She proceeded to explain, in full Granger-detail, as much as she could remember about the Muggle magician who had performed at her five year old cousin's birthday party.

"Sorry Harry," Ron gasped, laughing at the newfound Muggle absurdity. He used his sleeve to scrub the tears from his eyes. "Haven't seen your stick, have you asked Aidan? Hey, where's your date?"

Swallowing guiltily Harry pointed behind Ron.

Ron turned and nearly knocked over a redheaded bunny. "Oh, sorry Ginny. C'mon Harry, who's the mystery girl," he joked, until he turned back to see Harry's face. Mouth open he shot a look back at Ginny, then Harry. "My sister?!"

"You can't kill me Ron, we're in public," Harry half joked.

"My sister?!"

"Hey!" Fred and George plowed into the middle of the group, effectively defusing the outrage Ron was trying to work up.

"Lovely costume Mione," George gushed. Taking her hand he proceeded to make a rather large show of kissing it. "Didn't know you could blush such a lovely shade of red." George winked and released her hand.

"I can't believe you two have permission for those…costumes," Hermione retorted. Trying valiantly to shift the focus away from the fact that she was blushing, badly.

A few cleverly placed clusters of grape leaves were all that stood between the Weasley twins and total nudity.

"We're Greek gods," Fred asserted, with pride, adjusting the laurel wreathe on his head.

"Besides," George added, wickedly, "We haven't been caught yet."

"Harry, Houdini… Right?" Fred asked, turning to the Wand-less magician. Harry and Hermione's surprise was almost comical. "One of the world's most famous tricksters, and they think that his being a Muggle could keep us from knowing about him?" Fred asked George with mock outrage.

"Hardly." The mocking purr caught them all off guard.

Harry wasn't the only one to lurch back a step when he saw who had snuck up on them.

"Harry Houdini got himself out of trouble. He didn't rely on dumb luck or third party intervention."

The students stared in shock. And horror. Lots of horror. Too much horror to become angry over what had been said.

"Pro-professor, Snape?" Ron managed to squeak.

"We're turning the future over to them you know?" The male slanted a despairing look at the female, who was standing by his side.

"More than a bit worrisome," she gravely nodded.

The fake Professor Moody was dressed as a woman of the Victorian era. She had on a pair of, the then newly invented, Bloomers instead of a more socially acceptable dress. Black silk and fine lace were dominant yet stern. Half gloves and a top hat, with a sheer black veil in the back, completed the Victorian version of a rakish, modern, woman.

The students didn't even register her. Next to the male she was positively blasé.

The male, for his part, was dressed in his casual best. The same clothing he wore to the Raven and the Wandering Market; tight black jeans and shirt, long midnight-green duster jacket, and the gloves collar and boots from his Garom uniform. Tonight though he also had heavy black makeup on his eyes and lips and black nail lacquer.

"Pro-Pro-" Fred stammered.

"Now why would I do that, Mister Weasley?" the false Snape sneered while adjusting a glove. "Telling your Head of House would ruin the fun of seeing her discover you for herself." He turned back to the female, "Break is nearly up. The next should be long enough to actually-"

"You're in the band!" Ron finally screeched.

When the Potion Master turned back to them, Ginny gasped, "You've got blue eyes!"

"But you're too old to be in a band," Harry wanted to curse himself for saying that  out loud.

"I am filling in for the drummer, Misters Potter and Weasley. Congratulations on noting the obvious Miss Weasley, my eyes have always been blue. Sadly blue eyes are most susceptible to the chemical overload that happens when one becomes serious about Potions as a field. Their color was the first thing I lost when I started my independent research. Now if you will excuse me, I am due back on stage in three minutes." As he walked away his open jacket flared wide, like deep green bat's wings.

When the students were able to tear their eyes away from the door their Potion Master had passed through, they discovered that Professor Moody had also disappeared.

~

Bobbing for apples, pumpkin carving and popcorn balls were all fun, but the haunted house that had been set up in one of the rooms that adjoined the Dining Hall…that took some working up to. The Mugle-borns tended to run through it, mostly to see what a Wizarding version of a Muggle haunted hose would be. Then they started trying to get their Wizard-born friends to go in.

The fact that there were no real Bogarts or Poltergeists involved (not even a Ghost) made the whole thing much more frightening.  Things jumping out at you, loud noises, disgusting slimy things to touch…and all of it was Magic free.

Draco was pale as a sheet when he finally exited, much to Ron and Harry's delight.

But Harry and Ron were laughing just a little too loudly, and Hermione and Ginny dared them to go through.

@---'----,-----------

The male saw Neville drifting past when he spoke to Potter and his cohorts. He made a point of catching Longbottom's eye.  When he turned to leave, his right hand subtly made the same motion that Neville had learned, from their training sessions, to interpret as, "Do what I just did," or (hopefully) "Follow me."

Slipping out of the Ball was no problem no one noticed his exit, except for Longbottom, and he had meant for him to see. 'Now though, I have to wait and see if Longbottom was actually able to catch the signal and interpret it correctly.'

"Where's Professor Moody?" Neville asked as soon as he caught up.

"I won't be able to have lessons with you this coming week." The male ignored Neville's question.  After a silent moment he acknowledged, "You are beginning to see the difference between having an irrelevant point ignored, and actually being ignored as a person. Good." 'I hate it when Starch is right about things like childhood conditioning. On the plus side though, Longbottom did follow the signal.'

"Will you be continuing to take over his classes?"

Absently he noticed that at some point over the past few weeks Neville had started using his style of reference for him. "I believe so," he murmured, allowing time for Longbottom to figure out how to get the information he wanted.

"There was something you wanted to see me about?" Neville cautiously prompted.

They walked in silence for a few more paces. "I have a child." The male did not change pace or tone, he didn't even look at Neville, but he was weighing every beat of the boy's heart, and the air around them. Looking for clues as to how much trust could be placed upon the young Gryffindor.

"This is a thing you haven't told many," Neville couldn't find much to be shocked or disturbed about. "Is that w- The reason behind telling me is…"

'Almost asked why. The boy is learning fast. Might have made a decent Slytherin after all.' "You are picking up my speech patterns. Maybe you should socialize more with your peers?"

"Who wants to hang out with a kid they don't even remember?"

He knew Neville had meant it to come off as a joke, but it fell flat.

"Besides," Neville shrugged, "You said I'd be dangerous until I was fully trained, and that I could take the gloves off then."

A door stopped their progress. Some noise seeped through the thick hardwood; the band relaxing between sets.

"I will not be around much longer. My time is up. The child can no longer count upon my protection, but you…" his eyes burned into Neville's. "You can protect the child. You have heard of The Order?" With ease he caught Neville's eyes with his own. Pushing through the layers of life that separated them, as Starch had taught him to, the male's blue eyes blazed even brighter, nearly white now. "I offer you induction. Once you decide you will contact me. You will remember nothing of this conversation except that our lessons will be canceled for next week-"

~

With a shock Neville came to. A door had just been shut. He was alone in a hall…and it took him a long time to find his way back to the Halloween Ball.

@--'---,----------------

He stood in the now empty room with his back to the door, until he felt Neville begin to walk back down the hall. It was a nasty business, messing with a person's mind and memory, but it had needed to be done. 'A First Generation Wizard was something that The Dark Lord, several other parties- and maybe even the Headmaster,' he added darkly, 'would kill to possess. The fewer who know of the child's existence the fewer possible threats, and Longbottom is hardly a threat.'  He rubbed aching eyes and darted through the door that lead to the stage, drumsticks in hand.