Disclaimer:  Remus' wonderful fire remark (you'll see) was not mine, nor his, invention, but that of Abbey.  Though Remus did add the last part of it for Juniata's benefit. ^_^   Do read her stories, because she's pretty dang good.  She's in my Fav. Authors list, and Fav. Stories ("Key of Kings", my favorite of hers at the moment. *hugs Magice*). 

Chapter 17:  Discovery and Liberation

            Harry headed down to breakfast early—and alone—the next morning.  The Great Hall was empty but for the usual habitual early-risers.  He sat at the Gryffindor table, grabbing a piece of toast and chewing on it thoughtfully.  As he sat up the night before, unable to sleep, it had struck him that Draco was the second friend to attack him that year.  He realized now that both were Heirs, and began to wonder if maybe there was something in the title.  After all, Voldemort was definitely insane, and few had something good to say about Salazar Slytherin.  Who knew what had happened to the ancestors of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and even Gryffindor?

            James Bell entered the Hall just then, and hurried over to Harry.

            "Hey, Harry," he said, still glowing over his apparent success the night before.

            "Hello, James," Harry replied.

            He was too caught up in his reverie to pay much attention to the young Hufflepuff.

            "Hey James, can you promise me something?" he suddenly said, looking very tired.

            James looked slightly surprised but replied, "Sure."

            "Promise me you won't suddenly go insane and attack me, okay?"

            After a long pause, James nodded slowly and then, though still occasionally glancing at Harry, turned to his breakfast.  Harry laughed to himself, feeling much better.  Trust James to agree without questioning.

            It wasn't long before Ron, Hermione, Azar, and Draco came to the Hall and joined them.  Harry glanced at Draco and Hermione, who seemed unnaturally quiet, and wondered what exactly had happened last night.  Then there was Ron, oblivious to everything.  Harry felt a pang of guilt.  He had promised Azar he wouldn't tell, after all, but it didn't feel right that Ron didn't know.  He resolved right then that if it ever escalated to the point that Ron might get hurt, he'd have to tell.

            The bell rang then, and they all left for their respective classes.  As Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed down the hall, they were silent.  Ron kept looking at each of them, confused and uncomfortable.  Hermione suddenly froze in the middle of the hall.

            "I forgot my Transfiguration book!" she cried in horror, "I'll meet you there."

            She sprinted back towards the Gryffindor tower.

            Ron watched her for a while.  "She's been a bit distracted lately, hasn't she?" he asked.

            Harry shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.

            "Er, Harry?"

            "Yeah, Ron?" Harry answered, not facing his best friend.

            "I was, er, wondering," he said, a bit awkwardly, "when...well, when you were going to have quidditch tryouts."

            Harry clapped a hand to his forehead, eyes wide with panic.  "Quidditch!  I'd completely forgotten about that!"

            Ron stared at him as though he just declared there was no god.  "For-forgot about...quidditch?"

            Harry smiled.  "Breathe, Ron, breathe."

            "But...but...  You're still playing, right?" Ron asked, still a little faint.

            "Yeah, of course.  I've just been...distracted," Harry said, trying to hold back a laugh.  It all seemed very funny to him right then.  "How about having the tryouts this Friday?"

            "You're joking!" Ron cried, even more panicked, "I wouldn't have time to practice!"

            Harry couldn't stop his laugh this time.  "Ron, I'm sure you'll do fine."

            "Well I'm glad one of us is," Ron said sulkily as they entered McGonagall's class.

****

            Remus Lupin and Juniata Snape walked together along the streets of Hogsmeade.  They had met in the town nearly every day since their first chance encounter and truthfully quite enjoyed the friendship.  After all, no one feels for outcasts like outcasts.

            It was on this last day of September, the final rays of day making the coloring leaves glow, that Remus had been acting quite peculiar.  Juniata had noticed this, but hadn't said a thing.  She wasn't really sure of what to make of it.  The reason for his discomfort finally came during a long silence.

            "Um, Juni," Remus said, feeling a little awkward, "I know this is going to sound immature but...  I was wondering if we could... now please don't think this is just a mask for feelings I harbor for you, because it's not.  But could you pretend... to be interested in me?"

            Juniata stared at him, far from amused.  "You must be joking."

            Remus sighed.  "Yes, I know, it's childish.  But... Well, damn it, I was always the mature one.  I followed the rules, thought things out, made others think things out.  If I don't act like a stupid teenager now, I may never get another chance."

            Juniata laughed, sharp and short, but not malicious.  "That's an interesting way of looking at it."  She stopped a moment, looking him up and down calculatingly, and then said, "Okay."

            "What?"

            "Okay, I'll help you get her absolutely mad with jealously," Juniata smiled wryly, "Though how she'll be jealous because of me, I do not know."

            Remus cleared his throat, fighting to keep his face from going pink.  "And what makes you think this has something to do with making someone jealous?"

            "Because I have a brain and eyes," she said, giving him an condescending look, "Just be glad I'm willing to help in your juvenile pursuit."

            Remus looked at her a little suspiciously.  "Why help me if you disapprove so?"

            "What, I can't just do it to help you out?"

            He smiled at her dubiously.

            "Fine, yes, I have ulterior motives," she admitted, conveniently finding a tree quite interesting, "But that's my business as of now."

            "I hardly find it fair that you know my reason, when I haven't a hope of even guessing yours."

            "I hardly find much of anything fair," she remarked airily, turning to him, "Besides, an ape with half a brain could see your purpose."

            The corners of Remus' mouth turned up slightly.  "I guess I haven't been as discreet as I thought myself."

            Juniata shook her head sadly.  "Poor man, you're delusional.  A blinded fifty-foot giant stumbling through the streets of Dublin in broad daylight would be more discreet than you."

            "You seem to have a special affinity for metaphors."

            "I am queen of metaphors," she said regally, "After all, one must know how to fight fire with fire."

            "Ah, but there you are wrong," Remus said, shaking his head, "One doesn't fight fire with fire.  One fights fire with a powerful water charm."

            Juniata gave him a dark look.

            "Or baking soda," he quickly added, "Baking soda works, too."

            The anger faded from Juniata's eyes, and she tried to fight the smile inching onto her face.  "Not many wizards have that kind of practical knowledge," she remarked.

            "I've always tried to gather as much knowledge as possible, and knowing how to deal with life when you don't have a wand is a favorite area of mine."

            "Very sensible of you."

            "I've always been sensible," he said, not looking altogether pleased with the remark.

            "Until now, you mean," she smiled wryly, "Believe me, playing games as a way of courting is far from sensible."

            Remus looked more than a bit concerned at this remark.  "Then how should I go about it?"

            Juniata looked at the floor a moment, then turned her eyes to him, her brows knit with thought.  "You're asking much," she said heavily, "I, after all, have a motive for you pulling the jealously plan off.  To set you right puts me at a disadvantage.  And then there's the fact that you wouldn't know if you could trust what I tell you, for you don't know what I hope to achieve.  I could just be using you for my own ends.  So why would you want to know my opinion."

            Though it wasn't a question, Remus answered.  "Because I trust you."

            Juniata took in a sharp breath, staring at him with a look somewhere between awe and disdain.  "Trust me?  How can you trust me?  We were near enemies in childhood.  You barely know me.  I think you've gone past adolescence, back to naive infancy."

            Remus smiled, shaking his head.  "No, I'm at worldly adulthood at the moment.  I don't trust everyone, Juni; I learned not to long ago.  But I trust you.  You would never ruin my life to lift yours."

            Juniata was silent.  She looked away, trying to control her breathing, blinking fiercely.  When she finally spoke, looking back at him, her voice was quiet, even hoarse.

            "Things aren't always as they seem."

            She turned, walking swiftly down the road towards the Shrieking Shack.

****

            That fateful Friday arrived, coupled with a nippy morning.  When evening approached, a gathering of Gryffindor quidditch team hopefuls assembled on the quidditch pitch.  Harry quickly sorted them out and started the tryouts.  He knew hardly any of them besides Ron, though Dennis Creevey did give a rather poor try for keeper.  When Ron's turn did arrive, Harry watched a little down-heartedly.  It was clear his friend was nervous and his shooting suffered for it.  He knew there was very little hope of Ron taking a chaser spot.

            When every last person had had their time in the air, Harry huddled with his other three teammates.  Quietly, he quickly discussed an idea he had, one that would hopefully give Ron a better chance.  A little unsure, the team agreed.  Harry turned back to the group of Gryffindors.

            "Okay, tomorrow in the common room we will post a list of the new team members," Harry said, feeling a little nervous as each and every person looked mutinous about not finding out now.  He ignored their protests, though.  "I'm sorry, but I would like more time to discuss this with my team.  You'll have to wait."

            Grumbling, the group slowly filed towards the school.

            "Hey Ron," Harry called as the boy headed out with the others, "Could I talk with you for a minute?"

            Ron, a little reluctantly, came over to him.  Before Harry could speak, his friend held up a hand.  "I know, I know," Ron said, dejected, "I did horribly.  I know you're trying to soften the blow, but it's okay.  Quid-quidditch isn't…everything."

            "You didn't do horribly," Harry insisted, "But...  Well, I want you to get back up there so we can see more."

            "Oh, okay, sure," said Ron hopefully.

            Ron eagerly took up his broom and the quaffle.  Tyron Thatcher, the fifth year beater, played as keeper for him.  Harry and sixth year chaser Bella Arroz took to the air to watch while Hermione looked on nervously from the ground.  As Ron went on with his tryout, Harry felt his stomach sink.  It wasn't that Ron was horrible.  He had quite a few great skills, but getting that ball through the hoop every time was not one of them.  After a while, Bella flew over to Harry.

            "So..." she said, feeling a little awkward.

            "Yeah, I know," Harry sighed, "We had at least four chaser tryouts that were far better.  I guess there really is no hope."

            "Well, if I may suggest, mi capitán," she offered, "he does have pretty good speed.  And excellent reflexes.  And we didn't really get any good keeper tryouts...  Well, I'm just saying, let's see how good he is as keeper.  I think he'd do quite well."

            Harry glanced at Ron and then back at Bella.  "Not a bad idea," he said with a smile.  "Hey Ron!"

            Ron flew over, red in the face from exercise and embarrassment.  He didn't say anything, looking like he knew bad news was coming.

            "Take Tyron's place, okay?" Harry said.

            "What?"  Whatever Ron was expecting, it wasn't that.

            "Just go ahead."

            Ron, still confused, went over and spoke with Tyron, who flew down next to Hermione.  Bella flew over and grabbed the quaffle, then came back up to Harry.

            "Wanna play chaser?" she smiled.

            He laughed.  "Not particularly."

            "I can't very well test him on my own.  We need to be able to really see if he can do it."

            "Okay," Harry agreed reluctantly, "But don't make me do much."

            "Fine.  I think we can provide him with a challenge, as long as you never try to score," she grinned, tossing him the quaffle.

            Harry felt terribly awkward handling the unwieldy ball, but Bella more than made up for it.  He simply had to pass it to her whenever she wanted and she'd go on skillfully.  After a few runs, it was clear why Ron seemed so unable to score:  he was meant to block.  Even the skilled and seasoned player that Bella was had quite a bit of difficulty getting by him.  Granted, Harry saw practice was in order, but it was clear Ron was superior to any other keeper tryout they had had.

            "Okay, let's call it a night!" Harry called after a while, "Good job, Ron.  Head back to the common room; Hermione and I will see you there."

            As Ron headed back to the castle, Harry flew over to Bella.  She looked at him expectantly.

            "Good call," he smiled with a nod, "Very good call."

****

            'Cynder Wright            5th year             Chaser'

            'Oren Stockton            3rd year Chaser'

            'Ron Weasley               7th year             Keeper'

            Ron had never seen such a beautiful piece of parchment.  He felt like dancing and singing all around the common room, but instead sank happily into a nearby armchair.  So what if he didn't make chaser?  Keeper was better in fact, he decided.  After all, defense was fifty percent of the game.

            Two younger students entered the common room just then, going over to the list.  Though Ron couldn't see them nor they he, he heard them well enough.

            "I don't believe it.  I did twice as well as that Weasley kid, yet he got on," a freckle-faced fourth year huffed.

            "What can you expect?" his blond friend replied bitterly, "His best friend's captain and one of the beaters is his girlfriend.  That's half the judges right there."

            Ron sank lower in his armchair, beet red in the face.  He felt so angry and embarrassed, he was sure he would burst.  Just once he wished an honor could be his own.

****

            Two weeks passed fairly uneventfully.  Homework load increased a little, but not enough to complain about, and the Heirs continued their night training, now moved into a large empty classroom due to the cold.  Up to this point they had only been practicing standard wandwork but Arabella had hinted at some more intense lessons soon.  Harry had started quidditch practices and found that quidditch with two of his best friends was better than quidditch without.

            Azar was spending a lonely Sunday in the library when things took a bit of a jump.  Hermione came up to her table, sitting down and looking frantic to talk.  Azar looked up from her book with curiosity.

            "Okay, Hermione, spill it."

            "Spill what?" Hermione answered with feigned innocence.

            "Skip the formalities and jump right in," Azar said simply, "I know that's what you want to do."

            "Well, you seemed the best to talk to," Hermione let out, "I mean, you are a girl after all."

            "That's what they tell me."

            "And I certainly can't talk to Draco, because it's about him."  She fidgeted absentmindedly with the tear-shaped glass charm on her necklace.  "And Ron!!!  He would die!  And talking to Harry is just about as good as talking to Ron."

            "So now that we've established the fact that I am a last resort..." Azar smiled.

            "Sorry, but it's just…oh, I don't know," Hermione sighed, "Okay, here goes:  Draco's in love with me."

            Azar paused.  "And...?"

            "And I'm off to Italy to become a nun," Hermione said sarcastically, "What do you mean 'and?'?  Oh, don't tell me you knew!"

            "Well..."

            "I'm always the last to know!"

            "Actually, Ron doesn't know."

            "Oh, yes, of course he doesn't.  He wouldn't be this calm if he knew," Hermione sighed again.  "So, what am I supposed to do?"

            Azar laughed.  "How should I know?"

            Hermione looked very aggravated.  "What, so you're not going to help me?"

            "How could I help you?  You're an intelligent girl, and it's your decision.  I don't fit in anywhere."

            Clearly Hermione wasn't going to accept that as an answer.

            "Fine, we'll talk it out a bit.  What do you think of Draco's feelings?"

            "That's just it.  I'm not sure.  I just wish I knew what it would have been like if it had been Draco and me all along!" she cried, nearly tearing off that necklace charm in her frenzy, "I mean, I just don't know what to think."

            "And that's a first for Miss Hermione Granger," Azar smiled.

            Hermione looked at her darkly.  "That's not helping."

            Azar just shook her head.  "I can't help you, Hermione.  This is your choice.  Just think it over.  I know you'll make the right decision."

            Hermione sighed deeply.  "I absolutely loathe not knowing something."

****

            The next day was bright.  Ron actually found that he woke up early, having to prod Harry several times before he dragged himself out of bed.  They went down to breakfast, but Hermione never joined them.

            "Probably in the library," Ron said with a shrug when the bell rang, and he and Harry headed off towards Divination.

            Yet when they finally saw her in Potions, she didn't say a word, simply working with more urgency than she ever had in her life.  Even Ron couldn't help but feel a bit worried.  The rest of the day passed much the same, a gnawing feeling growing further and further in his stomach.  Ron headed alone to dinner, Harry grabbing a few things in his dormitory.

            "Hi, Ron," came a playful voice.

            Ron jumped, turning around to find Lavender Brown wearing what she clearly thought was a seductive grin.  She quickly walked right up to him, uncomfortably close.

            "Er, hello, Lavender."

            "How are you doing?" she smiled, running a finger down his arm.

            "Er, okay, I g-guess," he stuttered, stepping backward only to find a wall in his way.

            "Do you…want to join me for dinner?" she asked, that smile unyielding as she kept running her finger up and down his arm.

            "I-I have a girlfriend, Lavender."

            "You do?" she asked, smile dropping.

            "Yes, Hermione, remember?" he smiled slightly.

            "Oh, I thought you two had broken up."

            "Why would you think that?"

            "Well, I thought she was going out with Draco."

            "Draco?" he laughed.

            "Yeah.  I mean, they've been spending a lot of time together, and last night, Hermione kept saying his name in her sleep."

            Ron looked taken aback.  "In her sleep?"

            "Well, yeah."

            Ron's expression darkened.  "Why didn't I see it before?" he asked himself.

            "Well, it was pretty obvious," Lavender nodded.

            Ron closed his eyes, concentrating very hard on Hermione's feelings.  Without another word, he marched off, not knowing where his feet were going.

            "So, I might see you at dinner, then?" Lavender called hopefully.  He didn't answer.

****

            "It was so…"

            "Wonderful?" Azar interjected, a dreamy sort of smile on her face.

            "Yeah…" Hermione sighed, "That's the problem."

            Hermione and Azar sat alone in an empty classroom; the same classroom Hermione had used when learning to become an Animagus.  It was a lonely room, in deep need of dusting, and Hermione had pulled Azar in there right after their last class to discuss a dream she'd had the night before; a dream about Draco.

            "Well, you wished it, didn't you?" Azar said after a moment.

            "What?"

            "Yesterday, when we were talking.  You were playing with that Dream Weaver necklace of yours and you said you wished you knew what it would be like if you and Draco were dating."

            "You're right!" Hermione said, touching the necklace she wore with a laugh, "Well, that's a relief.  I thought my subconscious was trying to tell me something."

            "So you're just going to drop it?"

            "What do you mean?"

            "Well, I know if I'd had a dream like that about a boy, I'd be a little interested.  You've got to admit, Draco was pretty romantic."

            Hermione was surprised, but only because it was exactly what she had been thinking.  Just then, the very object of their talk walked in through the door.

            "There you are!" Draco said, entering the sunlight-filled classroom, "I was hoping I'd find you.  Your emotions have really been on a roller coaster."

            "Why were you wanting to find me?" Hermione asked, skirting around his last comment.

            "This," he smiled, brandishing a rose, "I had a bit of extra time in transfiguration, and there was a matchstick some younger year had left on the ground, so this came out."

            Hermione gingerly took it, then glanced at Azar, who raised an eyebrow with a smile.  This was a very interesting kind of Draco.  Before Hermione could speak up, though, she felt a jolt of something.

            "Ooh, do you feel that?"

            "Oh yeah," Azar laughed, "Someone is angry."

            Suddenly, Ron burst into the classroom.  His eyes were flashing, his jaw was set, and his fists were clenched at his sides.  Not losing the rhythm in his step, he marched right up to Draco and punched him.

            "Yep, someone is really angry," Azar said, nodding.

            As so often seemed to happen when Ron and Draco were in the same room, the two were soon reduced to a tumbling heap.  Hermione and Azar watched on, a yell of pain or anger periodically echoing through the room.

            "Er, you gonna do something, Hermione?"

            "No.  I'm sick of stopping these fights just to have them start up again.  I'm just going to let them tire each other out.  Maybe then they'll see how pointless it is."

            Just then they had to duck, for a beam of red light was heading straight for them.  Vines sprung from the spot of wall it had hit.

            "Whoa…"  Azar turned, wide-eyed, to Hermione.  "Since they seem to be using curses now, do you think now would be a good time for our exit?"

            "No," Hermione said stiffly, arms folded and lips pursed in a very McGonagall-like expression.

            Ten minutes later, the two boys were noticeably tired.  Their yells had stopped a while ago; they no longer had enough breath to utter them.  Azar couldn't help but smile because watching them slug it out was now more like watching two old men swat at flies.  Hermione, however, found nothing funny about it and looked as though she were holding back the urge to scream.  Finally, the boys pushed apart and neither had the strength to get up, just breathing hard and glaring at each other.

            "You about finished?" Hermione fairly spat.

            They glanced over at her, looking as ashamed as anyone with a red face and gaping mouth could.  Eyes narrow, Hermione marched up to them.

            "So, now that you've used up all your energy, is the world righted?  Are all your problems solved because you gave your opponent a black eye, hm?"

            Neither boy answered.

            "No?  Well, tell me the problem and maybe we'll solve it by…oh, I don't know.  Talking, perhaps?"

            "He's trying to take you from me!" Ron said with newfound breath.

            "What?" Hermione exclaimed.

            "She needs to know that she can do better than you, Weasley!"

            "Now wait a—" Hermione tried to interrupt.

            "Oh yeah.  A Death Eater's ex-son who hasn't a knut he can call his own.  Yeah, that's so much better."

            "At least it's better than someone who doesn't appreciate her!"

            "Oh, I think—"

            "What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

            "Er, this isn't the—"

            "She told me, Weasley," Draco said, breathing hard, "She told me that you made her feel ugly.  Whether or not you see it, she's beautiful."

            Ron was gaping now.  He turned toward Hermione, who was blushing.

            "Is it true?  I make you feel ugly?"

            "Well, not those words exactly…"

            "And you told him this, and not me?"

            "It was right after you said that remark about not caring about looks.  He was a sympathetic ear."  Hermione held her hand out, as if pleading for him to understand.

            Ron's anger was mounting again.  He stood up sharply, glaring at Draco.

            "Okay, these fist fights are getting us nowhere.  Tomorrow, noon, you and me in a wizard's duel.  The winner gets Hermione."

            "Ex-cuse me?!" Hermione practically yelled, "Did we just go 500 years back in time?  I think I can make my own choice, Ron!"

            "Fine," Ron said, more hurt than angry, "Choose him then if I make you feel ugly.  I don't want you to feel like something you're not."

            Then Ron turned and walked out the door.  Hermione looked crushed and surprised, one hand slightly upraised as if to stop him.  Draco walked quietly up behind her.

            "Look, Hermione, I'm—"

            "You just had to tell him that, didn't you?" She spun around, her voice quiet, accusing, her eyes narrowed.  Without another word, she turned back around and stormed out of the room.

            Azar gently put her hand on Draco's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

            "I'm sure, Draco, that—"

            "Just leave me alone," he growled, shrugging her hand away.

            As he swept through the door, Harry met him.  Draco shoved by.  Harry was slightly confused at the anger in Draco's face, but just shook his head and entered the room.

            "Hi, Azar," he smiled, "What's—Whoa, looks like a tornado came through here.  What happened?"

            She just gave him a look of disgust and brushed by him out into the hall.  He stared after her in surprise.

            "Okay then…"

****

            The empty classroom was dark but for one solitary window, glowing from the full moon in the cloudless sky.  It poured a small amount of silver onto the floor, causing the stacked desks to become monstrous shadows.  And among these shadows reaching to the lost ceiling stood a lone figure, his glasses glinting in the weak light.

            Slowly he raised his right hand, holding a bit of stick, and then pointed sharply at a pillow he'd placed on the floor.  It flew back into the wall.  Quickly, he pointed to another he'd set on a desk.  This one flew up to the ceiling, then came back down with a soft thud.  It surprised him a bit.  Always before he had to say a spell to make it happen, but no longer.  He wasn't really sure why this was.  He raised his wand a third time.

            "Hello," Harry said quietly.

            "Oh, you heard me?" Azar said.  She had snuck in quietly, watching him as he practiced his wandwork.

            "No," Harry said, turning to her and pocketing his wand, "I felt you."

            "So it's stronger for you, too?"

            "Yes, when concerning you," he replied, a flicker of a smile passing over his face.

            "Same thing here," she grinned, "Sign or coincidence?"

            "Whichever it may be, I'm glad it's that way."

            She took this as a good sign.  "Think we'll ever be able to read each other's minds?" she said.

            He shook his head.  "I think this is as close as it'll get.  Unless of course we marry, then I'm sure after fifty years we'll nearly be able to read each other's minds."

            She laughed slightly, then stopped slowly.  For awhile, Azar fidgeted, finally looking at him sincerely.  "I'm sorry about today," she said, "It just…  Well, all the bad feelings in the room rubbed off on me."

            "It's all right," Harry smiled, "Even the perfect Azar has a right to get cross."

            She laughed, a good comfortable laugh.

            "So, care to explain what exactly I missed?" he asked, "I surmise it involved everyone because I've felt all emotions going haywire."

            She gave a short laugh.  "That might take a while."

            "Good," he said, sitting down on the stone floor, "Because I have a while to spare."

            Azar smiled, sitting across from him and diving into the story.  Harry listened in silence, his face full of thought.  When she finished, he looked a mixture of relieved and displeased.

            "Well, I suppose it was bound to happen," he sighed, "I was just hoping for later over sooner."

            "I definitely don't envy you of those quidditch practices," Azar smiled slightly.

            He laughed.  "Well, they should get Ron into a better mood.  We should just talk with Draco and Hermione and try to fix the damage."

            "Damage?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

            "Yeah.  Damage, mistake, mess," he shrugged, "What would you call it?"

            "I dunno," she said quietly, "It depends on the outcome.

            There was silence for a while.

            "You…you are on Ron's side, aren't you?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

            Azar avoided his gaze a moment, then looked straight into his eyes.  "I don't choose sides.  If Hermione and Ron stay together, great.  If Hermione and Draco get together…great."

            Harry felt taken aback.  "So if Draco suddenly came out and confessed his love for you, you'd consider going off with him?"

            "No, of course not.  But that's different.  I know how I feel.  I don't know how Hermione feels, though.  Only she can make that choice.  If I choose sides, that would influence her.  Sitting on the fence allows others to live their lives.  You should do the same."

            Harry was flabbergasted.  "But…but Ron's my best friend…"

            "At the risk of sounding pretentious…" she said softly, "Well, I've always felt you should stand by friends, not behind them."

            He looked at her quizzically, but she simply stood up, reaching into her robes and pulling out her wand. 

            "So," she said, the moon glinting in her eyes, "since you seem set on practicing so diligently, care for a more challenging foe than pillows?"

            Harry laughed, still seated.  "You?  You want to duel with me?"

            "But of course!" she exclaimed, "Didn't think it'd never come to that, did you?"

            "Actually, I never imagined I might duel against you, but now that I think about it, I guess I should have seen it coming," he smiled, standing up and pulling out his wand.

            They held their wands up, each grinning and trying not to.  With a bow, the duel began.  Or rather, it was supposed to begin but neither moved to do so.

            "Ladies first," Harry finally said after they had stood there in silence a while.

            "Then you must mean yourself, for I'm no lady," Azar grinned.

            Harry laughed.  "Very well then."

            Still tentative about dueling his girlfriend, Harry sent a weak tickling charm at her, which she blocked with a laugh.

            "C'mon, Potter, you'll have to do better than that."

            "Well I don't want to hurt you," he sulked in defense.

            She shook her head slightly.  "No need to worry about that.  I've studied your technique.  And believe me, I will not go easy on you."

            Harry laughed.  "Come off it.  You'd never hit me with anything bad."

            "Must I really prove by example?"

            Before he could answer, she threw a curse at him.  He felt his legs give way from beneath him and he slumped to the floor.

            "That was a cheap shot!" he cried, finding it impossible to stand with jelly legs.

            "I told you I wasn't going to play nice."

            Harry performed the counter curse on himself just in time to dodge Azar's next volley.  He was definitely beginning to have second thoughts on this, but decided he'd better start playing by Azar's rules or pay the consequence.

            "Expelliarmus!" he cried.

            Unable to dodge this time, Azar flew back, landing roughly on the ground, but managing to keep hold of her wand by clasping it to her chest with both hands.

            "How'd you know to do that?" Harry said in surprise.

            "I didn't.  Pure instinct.  Lumos solem!"

            Harry was completely blinded by the sunlight that emerged from Azar's wand.  He stumbled backwards, then yelled the first spell that came to mind:  "Nox!!!"

            The light went away.

            "Hey!" Azar cried, "How'd you do that?!"

            "Pure instinct," he smiled, and without warning he sent another, much stronger, tickling charm her way.

            Azar was reduced to a giggling heap, and it wasn't until Harry took the spell off that she was able to regain her composure.  She lay on the ground for a while, trying to catch her breath.

            "Ah," Harry said in a coo, "Is the ickle girlie feeling sweepy?"

            Azar bounded up instantly, her eyes ablaze.  Without warning, she raised her wand high and cried with great ferocity, "EXPELLIARMUS!!!"

            Harry felt his wand torn from his grip.  He flew high and far, slamming into the stack of desks behind him.  As he crumpled to the floor, his impact sent a shockwave through the whole tower.  The top desk wobbled dangerously and then came tumbling down.  On instinct Harry curled into a ball, prepared for the blow.  It landed, on all fours, on top of him, trapping him almost like a cage.

            "Harry!"

            He sat up slowly with a groan, holding a hand to his head.  Azar soon came to a skidding stop right next to him, popping her head under the desk.

            "Harry!  Are you all right?  I'm so sorry!" she said in a frenzy, "You just got me angry and I guess I got a bit carried away…  Is anything broken?  What was hit hardest?  I'm so, SO sorry!"

            "It's all right, Azar, I'm fine," he assured her, "Just a little terrified out of my wits."

            "I didn't mean to!  I swear I didn't!  It just came out and—"

            "It's fine," he tried to assure her again, "I know the feeling, believe me.  And I've had far worse.  I wouldn't mind getting out from underneath here, though."

            "Oh, yes, of course."

            Azar backed out, helping him up as though he were a very old man.

            "Thanks, Azar, but I really am okay."

            "Thank you for not pretending you were hurt," she said fervently, "It would have killed me."

            "Ah, shoot!" he exclaimed, "That's a great idea!  Care to go back to where you were so I can do that?"

            "You git!" she laughed, but froze midway.

            "Wha—" he tried to ask, but she held up a hand to silence him.

            And from the hall he heard hurried footsteps, getting closer and closer.

            "This can't be good."

            Harry leapt up, running to the door and snatching up his invisibility cloak.

            "Smart thinking," Azar whispered.

            "C'mon," he said, pulling her under a desk and putting the cloak over both of them.

            Just in time.  The door opened slowly, a flood of lamplight dispelling that of the moon.  Mrs. Norris came meowing in, soon followed by the dreaded figure of Filch.  Harry held his breath, hoping not to be found out.  Azar, on the other hand, was having trouble with the silence part.  Her shoulders were shaking and every now and then she let out a quiet snort of laughter.  Harry tried elbowing her once or twice, but that only increased the laughter.  Thankfully Filch apparently didn't hear any of this and must have decided the sound of a falling desk must have come from another classroom, for he left, Mrs. Norris lurking right after him.  Harry waited until the sound of footsteps dissipated.

            "Could you have tried any harder to get us caught?" he said, exasperated, as he took off the cloak.

            "Well, I was going to yell, 'Hey Filch, over here!', but that seemed too obvious," Azar grinned, "Is it my fault I found all this horribly funny?  Besides, something was tickling me."

            "What?"

            "Something was tickling my leg," she insisted, "but each time I put my hand up to stop it, it stopped.  And then it'd start up right again when I took my hand away."

            "Move over," he said, trying to search in the dark for a possible source.  Azar soon joined him in peering at the floor.

            "Here!" he declared, holding his hand over a crack between the floor stones, "Do you feel that?"

            Azar hovered her hand over the same crack, feeling a small but perceptible cold draft.  "Definitely odd," she said, then added with a grin, "Let's pull it up!"

            "What?"

            "Well, clearly it's loose.  Let's pull it up."

            Harry shrugged, prying at the crack of the stone.  "Ow!" he cried, shaking his hand.

            "Your turn to move over," she smiled.  She pulled out her wand and preformed a hovering charm.  Though the stone resisted at first, she managed to pry it up.  It dropped heavily to the ground, and in its wake was a hole.  Harry and Azar leaned over, trying to adjust their eyesight to the darkness.

            "Hey, I think there's something down there," Harry said, reaching a hand down.

            "Wait!" Azar said, stopping him, "Does the phrase look before you leap mean anything to you?"

            "No," he said with a slight smile.

            She shook her head, holding out a wand and saying, "Lumos."

            A light appeared at the end of her wand, illuminating the little recess under the floor.  From its small opening, the alcove grew large enough to fit a crouched house elf.  And in the farthest corner was a book.  Without a word, Azar reached in and grabbed it.  It was barely able to fit through the opening.

            "Interesting," she murmured, running her hand over the title-less cover to open it.

            "Whoa, wait," Harry warned, "It could be cursed."

            "Ah, you and your killer diary memories," Azar scoffed, opening the book and peering at it.  "Well, looks normal enough."

            "Can you look away?" he asked worriedly.

            Azar looked at him amusedly.

            "Okay, see if you can close it and put it down," he insisted.

            Azar laughed, but complied.  "Convinced it's not cursed now?" she asked with a smile.

            "Hey, you can never be too careful."

            "Yes you can."

            She picked the book up again and opened it to the first page.  "Unique Enchantments," she read, "By Trinity Ravlaw.  Hey, it's dated.  Ooh, this is nearly 1000 years old!  Looks like I've got a new book to read."

            Harry looked at her in surprise.  "Don't you think you should give it to Dumbledore or someone?" he asked.

            "Why?" she shrugged, "I'm sure there are tons of them."

            "Tons of them that were hidden under a classroom floor?"

            "Hey, I put a copy of Hogwarts, A History behind a loose stone in my dormitory.  Doesn't mean it's special."

            He stared at her.  "Why would you do a thing like that?"

            "Don't look at me like that!" she laughed, "I did write a few things in it, and I hope that some future Ravenclaw finds it.  It's kind of a way of letting myself live forever, you know?  After all, one lifetime of Azar Zundel is not enough."

            Harry laughed.  "No, definitely not."

            "So, care to continue what we started?" she grinned, standing up.

            "The duel?  You have to be joking."

            "Of course not!" Azar laughed, pulling him to his feet, "We were interrupted, so we don't know who won."

            "We tied," he said simply.

            "Tied?  Ha!  I had you down for the count!"

            "Fine then, I concede the duel."  He headed for the door.

            "You can't concede.  I refuse to accept it!" she cried.

            He laughed.  "Well, you'll just have to."

            "Why can't you just admit that I won?" she challenged.

            "Okay, you won."

            Azar smiled with satisfaction.

            "…because I conceded," he added, walking out the door.

            The Ravenclaw gave a small scowl, her hands on her hips.  Harry walked a little farther before turning back.  She was still in the classroom.

            "Coming?" he asked.

            "Sure thing," she said with a smile, twirling and pocketing her wand.

            She came forward and took his arm happily, and they walked down the hall together.  It was a while before Harry realized that the sudden draft he felt was due to the fact that the back of his robes was missing.

****

            Harry couldn't remember ever feeling this nervous about a quidditch game.  However, it had nothing to do with the actual game.  A week passed and practices had been just as Harry had expected:  strained.  The team ready to take on their first game, it was no different.  Ron was like a dark shadow in the room.  He wouldn't even look at Hermione, and was even a bit aloof to Harry.  Hermione kept glancing at Ron, then looking back at her feet.  The tension affected the whole team and Harry was worried what effect it would have on their play.

            When they took to the field, Harry hoped that the wild roar of the stadium would destroy all the bad feelings of the team and they'd be able to concentrate on quidditch.  Harry found himself overly distracted as he walked forward to shake hands with the Slytherin captain Blaise Zabini.  Absentmindedly, he glanced at the rest of the Slytherins.  When his eyes fell on one, however, they grew wide.  Draco Malfoy was there, dressed in green robes and holding a broomstick.  Harry just stared, wondering if he was seeing things.  Draco gave a small smile.

            "Potter," Hooch's voice came, "You can let go of his hand, Potter."

            "Oh," Harry said, shaking the shock off and realizing he had been shaking hands the whole time, "Sorry."

            Blaise gave a sneer and clumped to his position.  Still numb, Harry made his way to his team.  The whistle blew and they were up.  Harry instantly flew over to Draco, who was acting as though there wasn't a day he hadn't been on the Slytherin team.

            "What are you doing here?" he asked, still not certain he wasn't seeing things.

            "Playing quidditch," Draco answered simply, flying a little ways off.  Harry followed him.

            "But…  How?  You were off the team…"

            "Well, I'm back on," Draco said, a little stiffly, his eyes concentrating on looking for the snitch.

            Harry stared at him, but knew he would receive no answers from the boy, and so he flew off to concentrate on the game.  Draco had good reason for his silence, however.  Though he seemed to be focused on the game, he was actually trying to avoid Harry's eyes.  He wasn't really back on the team, not yet anyways.

            It would be a long time before Draco forgot the jolt of fear he felt when, upon having a very large hand slammed in the middle of his homework, he looked up to find the towering figure of Blaise Zabini.  Blaise was normally a formidable figure, but in the bleak common room and after just reading about a particularly gory giant coup, he was downright terrifying.  Draco hadn't known what the captain could possibly want with him, as they hadn't spoken in years and had even then never been more than acquaintances, despite being in the same year.  Blaise tossed aside any formalities and cut to the chase:  Nan Chung's grades had dropped to a point of no return and the team had no replacement seeker.  Not that Draco was a last resort, but most likely a best choice.  However, they weren't going to let him back on for nothing.  The Gryffindor game was coming up, and Slytherin had yet to beat Gryffindor with Harry Potter on the team.

            "The long and short of it, Malfoy," Blaise had said gruffly, "is we're letting you have a chance.  Beat Potter, you're on the team and back on good terms.  No pranks, no spurning, you get a clean slate.  Lose, we find a new seeker and nothing changes."

            "And what if I refuse to play?"

            Blaise had stooped low towards him, staring him straight in the eye.  "Then welcome to hell."

            Draco was only just able to keep his voice calm.  "Well, since you put it that way…"

            A stray bludger brought Draco out of his reverie, just in time for him to dodge it.  Focus! he told himself.  You've got to win this one, or die trying.

            He had considered telling Harry about it.  In fact, it had been the first thought in his head after Blaise gave him the ultimatum, but he couldn't do it.  To be allowed to win…  The thought just made Draco sick.  Besides, he wasn't even sure if Harry would say yes.  After all, it was quidditch.

            The more he thought about it, the more Draco wondered why he was even trying.  It wasn't to be on the team, that he knew.  He could easily survive without the constant practicing and freezing game days.  It wasn't even to stop the pranks.  He'd gotten used to those, and they had even died down.  Though Draco didn't really want to admit it, there was a clear answer:  pride.  He was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, and if that combination didn't spell "arrogant", nothing would.

            Another stray bludger.  Draco ducked quickly.

            "Focus!" he whispered fiercely to himself.

            "Gryffindor score!" Anthony Moon's voice cried over the cheers, "And that keeps them in the lead, 30-10!"

            Down in the midst of the game, Ron was having a great time.  He'd let that first goal go by purely because of nerves, but when he saved the shot by the Slytherin captain, his confidence soared.  As the game went on, he was positively unstoppable.  He began to wonder why he hadn't noticed earlier that he was a good keeper.  It would have saved him a lot of disappointment.

            When the game was 70-10, Ron actually swung upside down to make an otherwise impossible save.  The uproarious cheers couldn't help but bring a grin to Ron's face as he swung back upright and tossed the quaffle along to Bella.

            "Another remarkable save by keeper Ronald Weasley!" Anthony commentated, "He's been having a phenomenal first game!  Looks like he's got some of the reflexes of his older brothers.  Arroz passes to Wright, taking…"

            Ron heard no more.  He gripped his broomstick tightly, sure to snap the old craft if he weren't careful.  But at that moment, he couldn't have cared less whether or not he broke his broom.  His sight was positively burning white with fury and he felt numb all over.  Was there no escaping it?!  He was more than just the younger brother or best friend, after all!

            He didn't even notice when the Slytherins scored.

            "Dowis scores while the Gryffindor keeper seems to be daydreaming!  Wake up, Ron!"

            A small chuckle traveled through the crowd and Ron felt his face positively burning up.  From above, Harry watched his friend a little warily.  When some people got angry, they used the emotion to excel at what they were doing.  Ron was not one of those people.  Harry figured he'd better catch the snitch as soon as possible.

            Draco was thinking exactly the same thing, but not for the same reasons.  If he didn't catch the snitch quickly, Slytherin might lose, and that probably wouldn't be good for him.  He'd been too lost in his own worries to notice that Ron was no longer having a phenomenal game and thus a Slytherin loss was less eminent.  The thing that worried him most was the fact that Harry had a Firebolt while he had a Nimbus 2001 that had been gathering dust for nearly two years.  He knew he couldn't count on speed for the win, but schemes.  How far he would go was another question…

            Watching Harry out of the corner of his eye, Draco suddenly felt very nervous.  Harry was too good and definitely absorbed in the search for the snitch; Draco knew he had to distract him, just for a few minutes at least.  Taking a deep breath, he bent low over his broom and sped for the Slytherin goalposts.  Harry sped right after him, just as Draco knew he would.  With the skill of someone who grew up with a broomstick in hand, Draco flew straight through on of the giant hoops and pulled up sharply, flying upside down in the opposite direction now.  His jaw dropped open.  There was Harry, pulling to a halt, but he didn't concern Draco right then.  No, there was a glint of gold that had all his attention.

            Speeding forward, Draco turned right side up, gaining on the snitch.  Closer and closer, just within reach.  Suddenly, something struck his broom tail, causing him to spin wildly.  He regained control, looking about wildly for the snitch.  It was gone again.  He then looked for who had struck him with a bludger.  He spotted Hermione, who quickly mouthed an apology.  Draco stared, positively wide-eyed.  He'd been so close.  "If only she knew!"

            But no, he quickly told himself, no one should know.  He should do it on his own.

            Draco set about to searching once more, Harry a little more wary of him.  Draco flew farther away, hoping the snitch would appear closer to him.

            "Slytherin score!  80-40!"

            Ron was a positive wreck.  The anger that was writhing in him had yet to die down, though some of it was replaced with panic that he would cause the team to lose.  It was not a good combination.  Hermione kept watching him, to the extent that she slacked off a bit and failed to save Cynder from a bludger.  The kid was barely able to duck in time.  Harry was getting more and more distracted by his team that seemed to be falling apart after such a promising beginning.

            Draco noticed none of this.  His very thought and being were upon the air, eyes darting around hurriedly for the slightest sign of gold.  Slytherin scored again, a great cheer erupting with a wave of green flags.  And Draco saw it.  Far below him the snitch hovered, almost as if it was watching the game in interest.  Without a second thought, Draco dove straight down.

            He needn't worry whether or not Harry was following him.  The Gryffindor could never be so distracted as to not see a snitch dive.  Draco only hoped that he had enough of a head start.

            As he neared the snitch, oh so close, it suddenly moved as if to fly off.  Draco was not going to let it go so that Harry would end up overtaking him and grabbing the snitch.  The head start was all he had and to let the chase go too long would mean failure.  In that instant, he did the stupidest thing he'd ever admit to:  he let go of the broom.  Bracing his feet on the broomstick, he pushed off hard, diving forward and closing his hands around the golden snitch.

            Draco could have cried with joy at that moment, but it was short-lived.  He soon realized that nothing now stood between him and hitting the ground with the full speed of a Nimbus 2001.  Of the millions of thoughts that could have come to him at that moment, only one succeeded.  "At least we won."

            Before Draco had time to even start his life flashing before his eyes, however, he felt a hard, even painful tug on his leg and he promptly came to a stop.  The blood rushing to his already spinning head, Draco looked up to see Harry Potter holding tight to his ankle.

            "You could have been killed!" Harry cried angrily, "What were you thinking?!"

            "I wasn't," Draco called back, "and hanging upside down isn't really helping the thought process."

            Harry gently flew down, setting Draco on the grass and landing beside him.  The Gryffindor looked ready to tell Draco off something horrible, the same with Madam Hooch who was soaring over to them.  Neither got their chance, however, for the boy was engulfed by a sea of green.  The Slytherins had stormed the field, cheering and screaming as if they had just won the quidditch cup.  They beat Gryffindor!

            From everywhere, hands patted Draco's back, yelling congratulations.  Without hardly knowing what was happening, Draco was swept up onto the shoulders of Blaise and another large Slytherin.  He was carried with the crowd that was setting off to have the largest party Hogwarts had ever seen.  Draco just looked all around him, amazed, ecstatic.  Giving a triumphant cheer, he lifted his hand still holding the snitch flapping its silver wings.  And as he rode the green wave away from the field, he heaved the golden ball high into the air.  Up it flew, higher and higher until it was out of sight.

****

A/N:  *gets down on knees and begs for forgiveness*  I am so, SO sorry!  I didn't realize how long it had been since I had put up a new chapter!  *bangs head against wall*  Bad Ady, bad! (Ady is very excited to see the second Harry Potter movie, sir!  And Ady is positively bouncing off the walls of the news that book 5 will be out within a year, possibly before Ady has left high school!)  It's a long chapter, thought, you have to give me that much.  I had actually 5 more pages to this one, and many more to go, (I'd wanted to get to Halloween) but suddenly realized that this was long enough and that I really should get it up.  Again, I'm so terribly sorry.  Time just flies by (for some ironic reason) when you have school to worry about.

            Yes, well, the chapter.  After much research into name meanings and usage, I've decided that dear Blaise Zabini is male.  Whether you agree or disagree actually has little relevance, because I'll not turn back on that.  Just lettin' ya know.

            Aw, I let this chapter off on a bit of a high note. ^_^  Yah for Draco!  Poor kid could use a break.  And I hinted on things changing for Ronnikins.  It gets worse, trust me, but not for a while.  ^_^

            I'm so terribly happy to get this up!  It's 2 am, right now.  Probably will be 3 by the time I write my thank-yous. ^_^

            Thank you everyone who reviewed Ch. 16!!!  I'm so glad you guys take the time to give me your thoughts and ideas.  It's a wonderful help!

jona:  ^_^  Yeah, poor Harry is having Dumbledore rub off on him.  Thanks!

Naralina:  As it is terribly late and I replied to this on the board, I'm afraid it's left to just this:  Thank you so much.

Kelly:  LOL  Beneath it all, we're all messed up. ^_^  Thanks!

*Jay*:  Yeah, I'm a killer for parallelism. ^_^  Just wait 'til the end of this fic.  Woa, I just go nuts with it there. ^_^  And Harry and Azar will be getting more…er, "screen time". ^_^  I've got some fun things planned.  Thanks!

Liliana-Suger:  Probably much longer than year 6 (knowing me ^_^).  Oh, thanks!

Trisana:  lol, No, you were the one who was very good with the shameless plug.  And here we have another excellent one. ^_^  Ah, wow, thanks.

Sonata:  *grins*  I'll treasure my frying pan, spoon, and plastic slinky forever.  ^_^  Thank you so much!

Mystery:  Oh no, I didn't forget Ginny.  I just figured that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, after having 6 boys, had given up on a girl and so stuck poor Ron with the name. ^_^  Thanks!  And I actually have a grown-up Harry fic in mind, though it has yet to make it from the drawing board. ^_^

Rogue15:  Thanks!

sammi_chan:  ARGH! (Not screaming at you but at myself.)  I'm sticking way to much in this fic.  Hm, now where can I pencil Ron and Percy in…  Possibly before Halloween…definitely before Christmas.  ^_^

abbey:  Thanks!

            Well, yes, another chapter is ended.  And it's only 2:25 now! ^_^  Guess I should start thinking about doing my homework… *big sigh*  Well, at least I got that first part of my college application done.  Now the essay. *cringe*

            I adore you all and thank you again for reading my story!  It brings a lot of joy to me. ^_^

            Be excellent to each other!

            -Ady