Chapter Four
Neville looked at the immaculately wrapped package, and hesitated before tearing off the paper and revealing a large book bound in thick black leather: its cover was decorated with a beautiful gilt-edged illustration of a plant. Neville's eyes widened as he recognized the plant and turned the book to read the title on its spine. He gasped and read out loud, "Mysteries of Mimbulus Mimbletonia—by Hieronious Godwulf!" He turned to Hermione—who was watching him with a gentle smile—and asked, "How did you find this? I've been asking around about this for almost a year now—no one's been able to find a copy—not even Madam Pince."
Hermione glanced back at Harry—who nodded—and looked at Neville as she replied softly, "I saw it in Sirius' library during the Christmas break, and I told him that you owned that plant and that you were very enthusiastic about it. He didn't say anything at the time about it, but after. . .after the Ministry, when Professor Dumbledore and some of the others were going through his things, they found the book in a pile he had set aside—and this note." She handed the note to Neville, who opened it immediately and read:
Neville,
You don't know me—I haven't seen you since you were a baby--but I understand that Crookshanks and I caused you a bit of grief a while back by stealing those passwords. I'd like to make amends, and thanks to your friend Hermione I think I know how. This book has been in the Black family for many generations—I wasn't much for Herbology in school, but I know that the plant you're taking care of is quite valuable and useful, and from what I hear, you and the other students who are standing with Harry, Hermione and Ron will need every edge you can get. Please accept this book as a gift for that purpose, and as an apology for the inconvenience you suffered as a result of my actions. If you're reading this, I'm either still in hiding or dead—I hope it's the former, for the obvious reasons and because I'd like to meet you. I knew your parents before the terrible events that took Harry's parents from us and sent me to Azkaban, and I'd love to share some stories with you.
Regards,
Sirius Black
Neville closed his eyes for a moment, as he felt a pang of loss for a family friend he had never known. He resolved to ask his parents about Sirius Black when he had the chance, then looked back at Harry and Hermione and said simply, "Thank you."
The remaining guests had arrived in the early afternoon of July 31st, and after a substantial lunch and a few minutes for everyone to chat, Harry, Neville, and their guests gathered around a large table in the courtyard of the castle, to allow the birthday boys to open their gifts. Harry had insisted that Neville go first, as he was the elder, and Neville had blinked in surprise at the large pile of gifts that had ended up in front of him. He had invited only a few of the guests, and he certainly hadn't expected gifts from a lot of the people whose names were on the packages in front of him. As the guests applauded, he had opened the gifts with enthusiasm, and was bewildered at the variety of items that were gradually revealed. Neville's love for his pet toad Trevor was one of his most well known personal traits, and he had received several packages of treats meant to keep toads healthy and cheerful. Ginny had knitted a small body stocking that was sized perfectly for Trevor, and she had placed a charm on it that would allow Neville to take Trevor out into hot or cold weather without the toad suffering any ill effects. From those who knew him less well, sweets were the most common gift. Dean and Seamus had found a rare "Famous Herbologists In The Wizarding World" series of Chocolate Frog cards and had wrapped up the entire set for Neville. Neville's grandmother had given him a wand holster that kept the wand polished and protected it from thieves. Hermione's gift had been the biggest surprise of all so far, and he was overwhelmed by what he had received. He looked at the table—only Harry's gift to him remained. He looked over at Harry, who smiled at him and urged, "Go on, Neville—open it."
Neville opened the small box, revealing a tiny collar that was obviously just about the right size to fit on Trevor. Neville looked at Harry, then carefully put the collar on Trevor. Trevor looked annoyed for a moment, then seemed to accept the new decoration. Neville looked back at Harry, who grinned and asked, "What do you usually yell when Trevor goes missing?"
Neville blinked, then decided to play along. "I yell, 'Has anyone seen Trevor?'"
"I'm right here, Neville!" The voice echoed through the courtyard was oddly toad-like, and quite loud. Neville looked down and realized that the sound had come from the collar. Trevor's big eyes had widened a bit, but he seemed none the worse for the experience.
Harry grinned at the expression on Neville's face, and explained, "I've been working on NEWT level charms and transfiguration spells, and this seemed like a perfect way to practice them—and I knew that it would come in handy for you and Trevor. Hermione advised me on what spells would work best, but I did the wand-work myself."
"Thanks, Harry." Neville was genuinely moved by the thought that had gone into the gift, and impressed with the power of the magic that had been required to create it. He turned to the others and said, "Thanks again, everyone—this has been quite a birthday. I'm glad you're all here." He turned back to Harry and grinned as he commented, "Now, if we want to be done in time for dinner, the other birthday boy had better get started on his opening."
The guests laughed, and Harry walked up to the pile of gifts on the other side of the table. As Neville's joke had implied, it was large, but Harry had also noticed that a substantial number of D.A. members were holding wrapped objects in their hands—clearly not wanting to leave them in the pile. Harry was curious, but decided not to press the issue. He extracted a red-wrapped package from the pile, called out "All right, Hagrid—this won't bite, will it?" and began unwrapping as the guests laughed again.
As he went along, Harry had been surprised at how thoughtful some of the gifts were—particularly from guests who didn't know him that well. A group of soon-to-be fourth years from three different houses had cooperated to buy Hedwig a collar, a headpiece, and some remarkably light breast plating that affixed itself firmly upon the utterance of a command phrase. The students had explained that it should give Hedwig some protection if anyone chose to attack him in flight, and would send a message to Harry in the form of a tingle in his right hand should such an attack occur. Five graduating seventh-years had purchased Harry a pad enchanted with a permanent Massage Charm, which they assured him would be excellent for treating sore muscles resulting from vigorous Quidditch play ("or other vigorous activities", as a departing Ravenclaw whispered to him with a wink). Harry saw the longing looks on the faces of his Gryffindor teammates, and knew that he'd have to share this particular bounty.
Hagrid's present had been a wristband that emitted a sound soothing to most carnivorous creatures on command. Ginny had taken the photo of Harry beating out Draco for the Snitch for the House Quidditch Championship two years before and put it on a Muggle T-shirt with the caption "Warning! Deadly to Snakes!" Several of Harry's professors—most notably McGonagall and Flitwick—had obtained copies of Harry's practical OWLs and annotated them, pointing out the parts that he still needed work on and the parts they thought he had done particularly well on. Remus had located several more photo albums from the Marauders' days at Hogwarts, and Harry thanked his older friend warmly and chose to ignore the obvious places where photos had been removed—he knew full well why Remus had removed them. Hermione had spirited away a set of his class, dress, and Quidditch robes without his knowledge, and charmed them so that he could change from one to another with a single spoken command—thoroughly cleaning them in the process. Harry saw Professor Flitwick stand up very straight at this explanation, and suspected that Hermione might have progressed further in her spell research for NEWT-level spells than she had acknowledged to him.
The last present on the table was a small box from Professor Dumbledore. He opened it and saw it was a complete set of Chocolate Frog Cards. Harry opened it and saw that the top card was of Professor Dumbledore himself. He smiled, and realized that the Dumbledore on the card was speaking softly to him. He listened carefully and heard, "Harry—this is not my real gift to you, though I'm sure you and Ronald will derive some enjoyment from it. In your room under your bed is a Penseive I have obtained for your personal use—it should come in handy for your Occlumency lessons and for other reasons. I suspected that you might not want everyone here to know you have a Penseive, as the thoughts you may choose to put within it are probably going to be very private. You will have to decide on your own who is to be trusted with this knowledge." The Dumbledore on the card smiled, and concluded, "Happy birthday, Harry." Harry turned and smiled at Professor Dumbledore and thanked him, then carefully put the Chocolate Frog cards in the pile with the other gifts.
With the last of the gifts on the table having been opened, Harry was surprised that there had been nothing from Ron there. He knew that his friend would not fail to bring him a present, and he was not surprised to see Ron walking over to the group of D.A. students who were standing with packages. He was a little surprised to see Ron whisper in Cho's ear, and again when the Ravenclaw Seeker stepped forward and stopped in front of Harry. Harry watched her silently, and Cho flushed slightly before coughing to clear her throat and beginning, "Harry, you've probably been wondering why we didn't put our gifts in with the others." Harry nodded, and Cho continued, "We got together a little while back to discuss what would be the best birthday present for you. You already have a great broom, and some of us aren't too thrilled with the idea of making it easier for you to beat us, anyway." Everyone laughed, and Cho continued, "You've never seemed too attached to expensive things, even though we know you could afford them if you wanted them. We wanted to give you something that would be special, that you couldn't just go out and get on your own if you wanted it. So we owled and flooed back and forth for a couple of weeks, and came up with this idea. When you and Hermione got together and founded the D.A., you gave us the gift of knowledge, Harry. We've all had to deal with the problems with the DADA instruction here—I know that I wish the DA had been around the year I had to take my OWLs, and I know a lot of other people in the classes ahead of you feel the same—even the ones lucky enough to have Professor Lupin as their professor for fifth year."
Harry turned and smiled at Remus—who looked both flattered at the compliment and proud of Harry—and noted the nodding heads among the guests before turning back to Cho, who continued: "Anyway, we want to build on what we've started, Harry. Professor Dumbledore tells me that he doesn't have any problems with letting the DA continue, regardless of who the next DADA professor is, and we all agree that it's a great idea and we want you and Hermione to stay in charge of it."
Harry smiled at Cho—he knew that she had been jealous of his friendship with Hermione, and was touched that this was important enough to her to put that animosity aside. "I can't speak for Hermione, but if Professor Dumbledore has no problems with it, I'd be glad to help keep the DA going—it'll be a lot more fun without having to keep one ear open for 'Hem, hem' all the time." The guests roared with laughter, and Harry grinned at them before turning back to Cho and prodding, "All right, then—what's the big secret? You've got my full attention."
"Harry—we come from a lot of different backgrounds. You-Know. . .Voldemort—" Harry noted Cho's slight hesitation as she forced herself to utter the forbidden name, and there were a few flinches from the crowd, but Harry noted with pride that Cho was able to disregard the moment of fear and go on: "—has done his best to give purebloods a bad name. Most of us aren't stupid enough to think that having only wizards and witches in our family trees makes us better people—or even necessarily better at magic." She deliberately turned and looked at Hermione—who had the good grace to blush slightly at the unspoken recognition—then turned back to Harry and continued: "What it does mean is that our families tend to have a longer connection with the traditions of magic, and family heirlooms associated with it. Hermione and Mr. Black's gift to Neville was a good example of that—a rare book that a member of an old pureblood family had sitting on a shelf collecting dust when it could be useful for fighting evil, or a great danger in the wrong hands. Well—Sirius Black isn't the only one who had a family library. We spoke with our parents, then with Professor Dumbledore, and came up with a list of books we had access to that were not in the library at Hogwarts, and which were otherwise difficult to come by. We would like to loan them to the DA—to be stored in the Room of Requirement—for the purposes of furthering the education of those who wish to face the darkness and are willing to put in the time to that end." Professor Dumbledore—whose eyes were twinkling with an intensity rare even for him—stepped forward and handed a list to Harry. Cho added, "Professor Dumbledore suggested that we leave them wrapped for now—to reduce the chance that someone unfriendly might hear of a particular title they would like to steal—but we'll have them all in the Room of Requirement ready to read before we leave."
Hermione snatched the list from Harry's hands without ceremony and began to read, and her jaw dropped and her eyes shone with something that might have been awe. Harry looked over her shoulder, and while he didn't recognize any of the titles, he did see the names of some of the most prominent witches and wizards over the last five centuries as authors—including a work on Alchemy by Nicholas Flamel—and he recognized the names of the students who had contributed them, including two from Ron. Cho noted the reactions and laughed, commenting, "It's your birthday, Harry—but I think Hermione is going to have more fun with this present, though you might want to take a good hard look at that text on Dueling by Randolph Edmund."
Harry nodded—a little numb—and was surprised when Seamus walked forward and announced, "Now, those of us who are half-bloods or muggleborns don't usually have much in the way of ancient magical tomes stashed away in our family libraries. What we do have is a lot of books that aren't to be found anywhere in the magical world, which contain useful knowledge that bastard Voldemort can't be bothered to learn. There's no reason we have to be as stupid as he is on that subject—and we want to contribute to the cause, so—" Seamus gestured, and a number of students stepped forward and placed wrapped books on the table. Seamus handed Harry a list, grinned and moved back. Harry looked at the list and found a lot more names and titles he recognized: The Art of War, by Sun Tzu—The Tao of Jeet Kune Do, by Bruce Lee—On War, by Carl Von Clausewitz—and two dozen other books about fighting, explosives manufacture, tactics, and several other topics that would be very useful to the DA. He sensed Hermione behind him, reading the list, and shivered a bit before turning to the waiting guests and saying simply, "This is great—I'm going to go over the lists with Hermione before I talk to you about them—I need to really understand what it is you've given all of us. Right now, I'd just like to say thank you to all of you for coming up with this. I can't think of a better gift that you could have given me—and that's saying a lot, given the generosity I've seen here today." The others were silent, and Harry smiled and called out, "So why don't a few of us take these books up to the Room of Requirement, and we'll see the rest of you at the feast!"
The guests cheered and began to disperse, with a few pausing to shake hands with or hug either Harry or Neville before heading back into the castle. Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Ron, and Luna were joined by Seamus and Dean as they bundled the presents into trunks, with the books all going into a single trunk that would go up to the Room of Requirement. Cho walked up and hugged Harry, whispering, "This is going to be great, Harry—I'm so proud to be part of it!"
"Me too," replied Harry, relieved that Cho's eyes were free of tears and that she seemed friendly, but not particularly inclined to pursue anything more with him. He turned and saw that Hermione was carefully watching the trunk full of books and laughed, commenting, "You definitely made Hermione's day."
Cho nodded, then set her jaw in determination as she walked over to Hermione and extended her hand, beginning: "Hermione—"
Cho had the wind knocked out of her as Hermione turned and hugged her fiercely, calling out, "Cho! This is wonderful! Thank you all for doing this!"
Cho was taken aback, but managed to return the hug. Harry managed to avoid snickering, and was just standing there as Ron walked over and saw the hugging going on, and noticed the expression on Harry's face. "Well, if you can watch that and stay calm, Harry, you're over Cho."
Harry gave Ron a dirty look, but had to admit that his friend was right. He had absolutely no romantic feelings about Cho.
"Ready to give up, Viktor? I've been peeking in on Harry's practices for over a week now, and he's better than I can ever remember seeing him." Oliver directed a visibly smug look at the world's greatest Seeker before taking another sip from his pumpkin juice.
"That is good news—I vill enjoy the challenge." Viktor took a sip from his own drink, and noted that Harry seemed disinclined to taunt his future opponent. He looked over at the younger man and commented, "Harry, I have vatched Omniocular replays of your games—your tactics are quite daring and unorthodox. It is a vonder that you are still alive, given some of vat has happened during your Quidditch matches at Hogvarts."
"A lot of people would agree with you about that last part, Viktor," replied Harry, a bit unnerved at the idea of one of the greatest Quidditch players in the world carefully watching his performances and searching for flaws to exploit. He had a sudden thought and asked, "How did you get an Omniocular replay of those games? Amanda Davis told me she had seen them, but she went to Hogwarts—I assumed that she had just looked at one that someone here had made."
"Harry, those replays are quite valuable—there are a lot of people who are interested in watching you play. From what I hear, a complete set of your matches at Hogwarts would set someone back a good two hundred Galleons." Oliver smiled at seeing Harry's eyes widen at the figure, then added, "Professional Quidditch pays well—but even I don't want to throw that kind of money around, not when I saw most of those games myself."
Viktor smiled. "I have excellent sources—my copies only cost me one hundred and fifty Galleons. Expensive, but vell vorth the cost."
Harry frowned, then asked "How much do replays of your games sell for, Viktor?"
Meanwhile, Neville was in another part of the Great Hall, sipping his own drink and quietly thinking. He had been talking to a few of his friends earlier, but they had sensed his mood—though not the reason for it—and quietly taken their leave of him. He was momentarily startled when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see Ginny—who looked rather spectacular in bright green dress robes and with her hair done up. The scowl on her face ruined the effect somewhat, and Neville was moved to ask, "What did I do? I'm just standing here."
Ginny shook her head in dismay and replied, "That's just it, Neville. You're one of the guests of honor at this party, and you're off in a corner by yourself, looking morose. You chased your friends off, and I saw three girls ask you to dance while I was on the dance floor with Dean, and you turned them all down. What's wrong?"
Neville flinched inwardly—he was a poor liar, and Ginny could be very persistent. He managed a casual shrug and said, "Can't someone be in a contemplative mood on his birthday? I've visited with a lot of people the last two days—I just wanted a little time to myself to think a bit. As for those girls—none of them would have given me the time of day before the whole thing at the Ministry. It's just reflected glory from Harry and the rest of you—when school starts again, they won't give me a second thought."
Ginny rolled her eyes and snapped, "Oh yes, you go off and fight against a whole squad of Death Eaters and live to tell the tale, and for some strange reason girls are looking at you differently after word gets out about it. How bloody unreasonable of them."
Neville blinked—Ginny looked brassed off, and she was making sense: always a dangerous combination. Ginny shook her head at Neville again and added in a softer tone, "Neville—you weren't just along for the ride: you did as much as most of us did, and you suffered for it. You're not the same person you were a year ago—why don't you expect people to notice it and give you credit for it?" Neville looked embarrassed, and Ginny added, "And dancing at your own birthday party would be a nice way to show your guests that you appreciate that they're here to share your special day with you."
Neville sighed: he wouldn't be thinking any more serious thoughts tonight, and he was starting to have less problems with that idea. Time enough to worry about things tomorrow morning He looked over at Ginny and replied quietly, "The last time I was at a party like this, I trampled all over the feet of the beautiful girl who was nice enough to accept my invitation to the ball, and she had a miserable time of it. I always felt bad about that."
Ginny blushed, then sighed and responded, "Well, you didn't do any permanent damage—and I didn't have such an awful time, Neville—if you remember, I kept going out on the dance floor with you: that should have told you something." Neville looked at her in surprise, and Ginny took his arm and added, "How about giving it another try? You seem a lot more graceful than you were then." She led him out onto the dance floor, and Neville did not resist in the slightest.
The new couple on the dance floor did not escape the notice of the group of Quidditch players across the Hall, and Harry turned to Dean—who had wandered over with a Butterbeer to listen to the Quidditch talk—and asked, "Do you mind that Neville is dancing with your girlfriend?"
Dean shrugged. "Would it matter if I did? You know Ginny—I'm not about to tell her she can't dance with someone." He grinned and added, "Besides—Neville's a good bloke, but we all know he hasn't got what Ginny's looking for in a guy."
"You don't say." Dean froze at the sound of the new voice, and realized that he should have paid more attention to who was nearby. Ron stepped over and continued with an almost Snape-like scowl on his face: "And what exactly do you think my sister finds irresistible about you, Dean?"
Dean felt a chill, and resolved to seriously reconsider his current relationship with Ginny as he contemplated her visibly annoyed brother. He opened his mouth, then saw two house elves bring in a large platter and saw an escape possibility: "Look—cheesecake!" He walked away quickly, trying not to look as if he was fleeing.
Harry looked over at Ron—who was still looking in Dean's direction—and asked quietly, "You haven't turned evil on us, have you? One Snape is enough for Hogwarts."
Viktor and Oliver laughed as Ron recoiled slightly, and it was a moment before the redhead relaxed and replied, "I just didn't like the way he sounded, that's all."
Harry smirked, then looked out at Neville and Ginny as they danced and commented, "I'm beginning to realize why I never fell for Ginny—it was knowing that I'd have to sleep in the same room as her suspicious and vengeful brother afterwards."
"Am I interrupting something, boys?"
Harry and Ron turned at the sound of the familiar voice, and their eyes widened in unison. Hermione had gone up to her room to change—and she had not come back wearing robes. She wore a black evening dress much like the one Harry had seen Amanda Davis in, though it did not look quite as expensive and the dress Hermione wore included sleeves made of a translucent fabric that Harry had seen before, but couldn't remember the name of. She had clearly resorted to Sleekeazy's Hair Potion again, as her hair was straight and glossy and done up in an elaborate arrangement that her normal bushy hair would never have permitted. The dress revealed far more of her figure than even her casual Muggle clothes ever did, and even Oliver found himself checking her out before he decided in favor of proper decorum for an older visiting wizard. Hermione's eyes glittered in amusement as she noticed the shocked reaction of her best friends, and a wicked grin appeared on her face as she asked, "I did tell you I was going up to change, right?"
It took Harry a moment to look over at Hermione, shrug, and comment, "You might have mentioned it."
Hermione nodded, and looked over at Viktor as she asked, "Would you mind if I borrowed Viktor for a little while? I haven't had a chance to really talk to him since he arrived."
Harry hesitated—for some reason he really didn't want Hermione going off alone with Viktor—and Ron was the one who shook his head and replied, "Go ahead—we can use the time to plot strategy."
Everyone chuckled, and Viktor bowed to the others and called out, "I vill see you later, gentlemen," before letting Hermione take his arm and lead him out of the Great Hall.
After the two had disappeared, Ron commented that his Butterbeer was empty and walked over to the drinks table. When he was out of earshot, a new voice complained, "That's all the reaction we get for that! No jealous temper tantrum or even a good scowl? We spent an hour helping her get ready!"
Harry and the others turned to see Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown looking at Ron with irritated expressions. Harry took a moment to be grateful that Gryffindor's resident social butterflies hadn't bothered to note the expression on his face before turning around and asking, "You helped make Hermione up tonight? Why?"
"She had transfigured that dress to look just right, and used the hair potion, but she's hopeless with makeup—we knew that a few subtle touches would create the perfect effect." Lavender replied, shaking her head and walking closer to Harry as she added, "Everyone knows that she and Ron are crazy for each other—they just need a push. Or so we thought—what's wrong with that boy? It'd serve him right if Viktor decides to sweep her off her feet and take her back to Bulgaria with him!"
Harry managed to keep from grinding his teeth and looked at Parvati before commenting with a slight edge in his voice, "Why do you care, anyway? I saw the way you looked at Hermione the night of the Yule Ball—you were both jealous of her."
Parvati raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic tone in Harry's voice and replied, "I'd like to think we've grown up a little since then, Harry—and Hermione's done a lot for this school: giving her and your thick-headed friend a little nudge without telling them what we're doing is the least we can do for them." Harry frowned, feeling a bit guilty about his initial reaction, and was about to open his mouth to apologize when Parvati added, "Besides, I had a right to be jealous of Hermione that night—she had a date who noticed that she existed."
Harry paled, and this time the guilt was visible on his face and audible in his voice as he muttered, "You're right, of course—would you excuse me, please?" He turned and retreated to a snack table at the corner of the Hall, and began stacking up a plate without looking at anyone else.
Parvati blinked at the reaction, then sighed. "Oh bother, I didn't mean to hurt his feelings." She turned to Lavender and nodded in Harry's direction. They wandered over to the table, and before long Oliver and the rest of the group could see that the two girls had managed to make Harry laugh, and they followed up with friendly hugs.
Oliver laughed at the reconciliation and commented, "Hermione's makeover certainly had an impact here tonight—I have to admit that it's unsettling to see her like that, when it seems like only yesterday she was a little first-year getting rescued from that troll by Harry and Ron."
"You think it's bad for you? Hermione has been coming to our house for years now—it's been like having another little sister around." Fred spoke for both the twins—as George was occupied with chewing a piece of cake—and shook his head as he added, "It's been bloody obvious for over a year now that Hermione was going to be gorgeous—Ron's just too thick to notice. If he won't, someone's going to have to step up and make sure she marries into the—"
The sound of feminine throat clearing was heard, and Fred paled and turned to George, whose expression positively shouted 'You idiot." Fred swallowed and turned to Angelina—who looked lovely in her red dress robe—and assumed his most innocent expression as he asked, "Yes, my love?"
"Don't 'yes, my love' me, you prat." Angelina replied, shaking her head in irritation. "Is this how you spend your time when I'm not around—staring at underage witches and plotting how to get them married into your family?"
George snickered, then yelped as Alicia Spinnet smacked him on the arm and snapped, "What are you laughing at? You were thinking the same thing."
"Was not!" retorted George. Alicia looked at him with a thoroughly disbelieving expression, and George flushed and muttered, "Well, at least I wasn't thick enough to say anything about it." Alicia scowled, and George hastily added, "Besides, it wouldn't have to be one of us. If Percy ever stops being such a traitorous git and comes to his senses, he might be fine for her. Charlie could use a smart, pretty witch to keep him from spending too much time with those dragons. Bill might decide that he'd like to settle down with a nice English girl instead of that French Veela. Or Harry might—"
"Harry's as bad as Ron, George—hasn't even noticed his best friend has grown up to be quite the lovely witch." Fred interjected, looking over at his twin and shaking his head. "Maybe he'll marry Ginny once she stops breaking hearts in the rest of Hogwarts—but he's never going to end up with Hermione." The twins heard snickers coming from their girlfriends—who had been looking at Harry while Hermione had been there—and turned to see the amusement on their faces. In unison they asked, "What?"
"Nothing," replied Alicia.
"Nothing at all," added Angelina.
"Just promise us that you'll never change," both witches concluded in unison.
Fred and George looked at each other, realizing they had dodged a major fight with their girlfriends, but not knowing how or why. They smiled and walked over to Alicia and Angelina, leading them out to the dance floor.
Hermione and Viktor were alone in the courtyard, and the sounds of celebration in the Great Hall could only be heard faintly as they walked to a ornately carved stone bench and sat down. Hermione was quite glad to finally get a moment alone with Viktor, and she was surprised to see him looking visibly uncomfortable. She looked over at him and asked quietly, "Are you all right? I didn't drag you away from anything important, did I?"
Viktor shook his head. "No—I spend far too much of my time talking about Quidditch in any event—and I believe that ve had covered most of the topics regarding the upcoming match at Hogvarts. It is just—there is something that I must tell you, and I am not certain how to do it."
Hermione's eyes widened in curiosity. They were no longer a couple—if they ever truly had been—and their correspondence had been more or less normal for two good friends separated by distance. She smiled softly at him and joked, "Just saying it usually works pretty well, Viktor. You know I'll keep a secret, if that's what you want."
Viktor frowned and nodded before replying, "Actually, just showing you vould probably vork best." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a photograph, handing it to Hermione. Hermione looked at the photo, and saw Viktor kneeling before a tall, remarkably lovely blonde witch who appeared to be in her mid-twenties. His lips were moving, and Hermione saw the witch's eyes widen in surprise before she smiled and nodded quickly. Viktor reached into a pocket and pulled out a diamond ring, slipping it onto the witch's finger just before the scene reset and began again.
Hermione blinked, then embraced Viktor tightly as she began firing questions at him: "Who is she? How long have you been seeing her? When is the wedding?" She pulled away and saw that Viktor looked bemused from the barrage of questions, and she took a deep breath before whispering, "Oh, Viktor—I'm so happy for you."
"Thank you, Hermione—I knew that you vould be." Viktor smiled at Hermione and paused for a moment before continuing, "Her name is Irina Gordieva—she has been teaching Transfiguration at Durmstrang for the past three years. Ve began seeing each other last fall, after my graduation."
"You never mentioned her in your letters." Hermione was a little hurt at the omission, though she made sure she didn't show it in her expression or tone—she knew she had no right to be angry with Viktor for having personal secrets.
"I vasn't sure vere things vere going vith Irina—she is very dedicated to her vork, and I believe she vas somevat uncomfortable vith being involved vith someone who had so recently been a student of hers," Viktor replied, shaking his head slightly. He grinned and added, "Fortunately—I vas able to persuade her to accept my arguments to the contrary."
"That's wonderful, Viktor." Hermione was happy to see her friend moving on—and that he had found a good match for himself. "Am I going to get an invitation to the wedding?"
"Of course—and assuming that ve both survive the upcoming match, I vill invite Harry as vell." Hermione cringed a bit at the dark humor from Viktor, and was taken off guard by his next comment: "I should varn you, though—Irina tends to be a bit jealous. I vould advise you to be careful ven meeting her."
Hermione blinked, then laughed as she replied, "Viktor, why in the world would that beautiful, talented older woman be threatened by a fifteen year old schoolgirl?"
Viktor paused, then stared into Hermione's eyes as he whispered, "Hermione, I suspect that you are—how do you say it here—ah yes, 'fishing for a compliment.'" Hermione blushed, and Viktor nodded gravely and added, "Hermione—I never saw you as 'just a schoolgirl.' Vith the events at the English Ministry of Magic becoming the most vell-known news event in our vorld—I doubt anyone else ever vill again, either."
Hermione shivered at the earnestness in Viktor's eyes, and was relieved when Viktor laughed and said, "Hermione—I am very much in love vith Irina, and have no interest in pursuing anyone else, no matter how extraordinary she is. However—I must confess that I am not above taking advantage of the fact that Irina knew that I happen to know a remarkable young vitch who vill one day soon be of age to marry, and being villing to let that help convince her that an early and short engagement is a superior plan to a long and delayed one."
Hermione chuckled and replied, "I suppose I can live with that—there's something vaguely enjoyable about being 'the other woman' without doing anything wrong." She hesitated, then asked quietly, "Viktor—you told me when you asked me to the ball that you had been coming to the library trying to work up the courage to approach me. I never asked what made you notice me in the first place. I was so young then—and there were any number of bright, beautiful older witches at Hogwarts who would have given their wand arm to be with you."
Viktor nodded. "I thought you vould ask me this question someday—and I have had time to consider my answer in a vay that makes sense in vords. At the time, it vas more feelings than thoughts, if you know vat I mean." Hermione waited, and Viktor began, "As you know, the champions vere exempted from their year-end examinations—and arrangements had already been made for me to take our equivalent of your NEWT examinations during the summer, after my return to Durmstrang. However, I believe in rigorous preparation, and I saw no reason not to take advantage of the legendary library at Hogvarts vile studying. Since I did not have Quidditch as a demand on my time during that year—unlike my previous years at Durmstrang—it gave me plenty of time to spend in the library. My first memory of you is of a beautiful pair of brown eyes framed by a remarkable head of bushy hair, peering over a large book and glaring in my direction—probably because of the large number of silly girls surrounding me and trying to get my attention." Hermione flushed, muttered something, and nodded tersely. Viktor smiled softly at her and continued: "I vas annoyed for a moment—it vasn't as if I vas trying to disturb the peace of the library—but I vas distracted by the realization that you vere there as much as I vas, if not more so, which I found remarkable for someone who vas obviously not even preparing for her fifth-year examinations yet. I started vatching you out of curiosity, and I saw someone whose passion for knowledge burned as strongly as my passion for flying, and I also saw that you shared that passion freely—you offered help to those who came to you, and I remember you telling me that you helped Harry cast that excellent Summoning Charm that vas the key to his performance during the first task. Yes, you vere young, and perhaps there vere young women at Hogvarts who vere more beautiful—at least for the present—but I knew that I vanted to meet you and spend time vith you more than anyone I knew there. I am pleased that my unintentional disruption of your studies did not cause you to send me avay ven I finally summoned the courage to speak to you."
Hermione stared at him for a few moments before saying simply, "Viktor—I'm sorry. I didn't know you then, and you were Harry's rival—"
"I know," interrupted Viktor. "Your friendship vith Harry vas one of the most important things the students I asked about you mentioned—and it has remained so. Harry is someone vell vorth being loyal to, and your irritation did me no harm."
Hermione nodded, and said, "I'm glad it doesn't bother you—and it is rather nice to hear how you perceived me back then—I felt like a freak sometimes back then, even around Harry and Ron."
Viktor smiled, then asked, "You know—I never asked vy you said 'yes' to me, Hermione. As you said, I vas Harry's rival, and you certainly veren't star-struck like your classmates at Hogvarts."
Hermione flushed slightly, then replied, "Well, I can be excused for being a little star-struck when an international Quidditch star and Tri-Wizard Champion asks me to the ball—as opposed to simply seeing him walk down the hallway." Viktor laughed, and Hermione grinned back at him before her expression turned downcast and she muttered, "Besides, saying yes to you was a lot better than waiting for either of my best friends to actually notice that I was a girl."
Viktor frowned, then brightened and replied, "From the expressions on their faces tonight—I sincerely doubt they are still ignorant of that undeniable fact." Hermione smiled at the compliment, and Viktor stood and offered her his arm. "Vould you like to go back inside? I vant to dance."
Hermione nodded, and they walked back inside, leaving the courtyard empty as the sun set.
Dean nodded at Harry's last comment, and watched his friend walk back to where Oliver and the Weasley twins were standing before he nodded to Seamus and they both walked over to where Professor Dumbledore was standing. The ancient wizard turned away from Professor McGonagall and smiled at the two Gryffindors as he asked, "Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?"
"Yes, sir," replied Dean. "We've been talking with Harry about the match, and we've had some ideas that might make the match a bigger public event and allow more money-raising for the causes it will be funding."
Dumbledore looked at the two students intently, and he gestured casually behind him—causing Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sinistra to move closer. Dean and Seamus blinked at the new, larger audience, but they kept their cool as Professor Dumbledore invited, "Go ahead, Mr. Thomas."
Dean coughed self-consciously, then began, "Harry told us that he had found out that Omniocular replays of Quidditch games with famous and popular players are very valuable, and are sometimes worth hundreds of galleons."
"I've heard that too," remarked Professor McGonagall. "There are charms at the major stadiums—and here at Hogwarts—that prevent the duplication of such replays, but there's nothing stopping an individual from selling his or her own replay. There are only so many of those, which is why the price is so high."
Dean nodded, "I guessed that it might be something like that. As you know, both Seamus and I are familiar with the muggle world, and how muggles promote their own sporting events. The most popular sport in the muggle world—except for a few odd places like America—is football, or soccer as the Americans call it. The Americans have their own favorite sports—American rules football, baseball and basketball. All of these are seen often on the muggle media device known as television."
"Yes—I've seen television a few times: it is quite remarkable. Amazing what muggles can do without magic sometimes." Professor Flitwick interrupted, looking interested.
Dean nodded, and continued, "The muggles use technology to broadcast these games that creates permanent records much like Omniocular replays—and they use the input from multiple video cameras—the muggle equivalent of Omnioculars—to create one best set of images from the game, so that they are not limited to the view from one particular camera in showing the game. What Harry, Seamus, and I were wondering is if we could do something similar with magic to create large numbers of replays of the match at Hogwarts to sell at a price that most wizards and witches could afford, and to show replays from Omnioculars on the large blackboard that Harry showed us would be in the stadium design, to allow everyone at the game to see the most exciting plays close up just after they happen, and without having to miss the rest of the game by concentrating on a particular player at the time with Omnioculars."
The four professors looked at each other, then back at Dean. Professor Dumbledore smiled and shook his head as he exclaimed, "Marvelous idea, Mr. Thomas! I believe it would be a valuable addition to our efforts here. Harry's plate is rather full at the moment, and it will take a few days for Professors McGonagall and Flitwick to come up with appropriate spells to create the effects that you describe. You are scheduled to go back home tomorrow, I believe—would you and Mr. Finnegan be willing to collect all the information you have on Muggle television sports and owl it back to us with any comments you believe might be useful? We will, of course, be sure to let everyone know whose idea this was, and make sure it is made part of your permanent school records."
Dean turned to Seamus—who looked a bit shell-shocked—then back to Professor Dumbledore before replying, "We'd be glad to, sir. Thanks for letting us help."
Dumbledore nodded, and the two Gryffindors walked away, talking about what they'd be sending back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore turned back to McGonagall and saw the glitter of pride in her eyes, then looked over to where Harry was talking with Oliver and the twins, then to where Hermione was dancing with Viktor. He smiled, then turned back to his conversation with the other professors.
It was just past nine, and Harry could see that some of the younger party guests were beginning to tire. He caught Professor Dumbledore's eye and nodded, and Dumbledore waved his wand—causing the dance music to fade out. Harry walked to the front of the Hall, and called out, "If I could have everyone's attention, please?" Everyone turned to face Harry—who took out his own wand and pointed it at his throat before intoning quietly: "Sonorus Omnibus." Professor Flitwick was close enough to hear the incantation, and he beamed with pride as Harry began to speak—and everyone in the Great Hall heard Harry's voice as if he were standing next to them and speaking normally: "Thank you all again for coming tonight. It's getting later, and while the party will be going on for some time to come, I thought I should talk to you now, so that those who are ready to get some sleep can do so." Harry saw some grateful smiles from the younger students, and hastened to continue: "While I have enjoyed the company here of old friends—" Harry met Remus' eyes and smiled before continuing, "—as well as some new friends—" Harry looked over at Tonks, who looked lovely with golden-blonde hair, violet eyes, and a red dress robe, "—and family—" Harry looked over to where the Weasleys were standing, and felt a little sad that Percy had not accepted his invitation to talk about recent events, "—I would like to speak specifically tonight to those of us who managed to make it through the last year at Hogwarts together. It was a difficult time, but we all made it through together. The Daily Prophet has written a lot about the difficulties that I and a few of my friends went through during that time—but it was the whole school that suffered as a result of the mistakes of others, and it was the school that won in the end. I know that I speak for those of us in the DA—and those of us who were at the Ministry last month—when I say 'Thank you,' to all who had the courage to fight—each in your own way—the evil that found its way into the halls of Hogwarts."
The guests murmured, and Harry nodded and continued, "It's not just that Umbridge is gone—though I'm certainly glad that her new problems mean that she won't have the time or the influence to send Dementors after me any more." A few people gasped, and Harry realized that particular revelation must not have made it to the pages of The Daily Prophet yet. He shrugged, a bit embarrassed, then continued: "Umbridge was cruel and stupid, and she did terrible things to any student who dared to openly stand up to her—but that wasn't the worst part of what she did. As a wise English muggle once said, 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' Umbridge—and her superiors at the Ministry—were willing to see a whole generation of Hogwarts students receive incompetent training at Defense Against the Dark Arts to allow them to continue pretending that Voldemort hadn't returned. If they had been allowed to succeed, the price would have been a lot of dead wizards and witches later on. The DA was our answer to that problem, and it did its job—and I am eternally grateful to everyone who was willing to follow Hermione's lead and face terrible consequences to allow it to happen." He looked over at Hermione, and saw that her eyes were glittering with unshed tears, though a smile was on her face.
Harry paused—this next part was going to be difficult. He took a deep breath, and began again, "Those of you who were there when the DA was founded will remember that I wasn't. . .well, too enthusiastic about the whole thing at first. Even now, I suspect that some of you don't quite understand why I felt that way." He looked at Zacharias Smith—who had admitted to Harry that he wasn't sure why Harry had invited him to the party, given their sparring in the DA—then continued, "I spent most of my early life with Muggles, for reasons that all of you are aware of. Aside from the fact that they were and are nasty people that no one would want to spend much time with, I always had the sense that I didn't really belong there—and it wasn't until I saw my acceptance letter from Hogwarts that I knew why. Problem was, when I got here I didn't really feel like I belonged here, either—though there were enough good things here to keep me from worrying too much about that for a while. I had come right into the middle of a world that had a completely different way of doing things—it was like opening a storybook in the middle and trying to follow what was going on. Of course, there are a lot of muggleborn students here who had to go through the same thing—but the problem in my case was that a lot of the time, the things I had walked into the middle of and knew nothing about had to do with me." There was more murmuring, and Harry went on: "It's a bit unsettling to go from living in a closet under the stairs, to a place where people are staring at the little scar on your forehead and looking at you as if you've just won the World Quidditch Cup for England—and when things kept happening, they were usually connected in some way with me being The Boy Who Lived. I'd be very dead right now if I hadn't had the support of a lot of wonderful people—you all know who you are. So when Hermione and some of the rest of you approached me and asked me to help run the DA, it scared me a little—I didn't want you to think I was something that I wasn't. I didn't have all the answers—I still don't, and I'm fairly certain that I never will. But what I've decided is that what I can do is be willing to help—as best I can and as much as I can. Of course, that doesn't mean I don't intend to have any fun the next two years—and Ginny's going to have to get used to playing Chaser, because the position of Gryffindor Seeker is taken, thank you very much." Ginny smiled at him, and the rest of the Gryffindors broke into spontaneous applause. Cho threw a mock glare at him, then winked.
Harry waited for the demonstrations to die down, then continued, "Cho and Seamus spoke well today about the gift of knowledge, and the value in cooperating with others. I hope the DA will grow even larger in the new year at Hogwarts, and—in the spirit of the song of the Sorting Hat last September—I hope some of the new members will come from the part of Hogwarts that is, for the most part, not represented here tonight."
Harry heard some muttering in the audience, and noted that Professor Snape—who had been listening with the customary sneer on his face—sat up a little straighter in his chair as Harry continued, "I've never been too fond of Slytherin House—and I think I've had pretty good reasons for feeling that way." The crowd muttered in agreement, and Harry saw Snape's lip curl as he went on, "But this fight is too important to turn away potential allies without keeping an open mind about them, and I have good reason to know that belonging to a certain House is no certain sign of whether they are good or evil."
Harry saw the looks on the faces of his guests, and knew that they had seen the reports in The Daily Prophet about the innocence of Sirius Black—and the treachery of Peter Pettigrew. He nodded grimly and added, "I followed the example of my good friend Hermione and did some research. During the time of Voldemort's last rise to power, fully one-third of the Aurors in England were Hogwarts graduates from Slytherin House—and almost half the Auror fatalities suffered before his downfall were also Slytherins. I see no reason to believe that things are different now. I'm not saying we should trust them blindly—but we need to be ready to listen. Any one of them or us could be crucial in the fight to come, and we can't afford to send them away without keeping an open mind. We all know the stereotypes about our houses, and we've seen that there's more to us than those old, uncomplicated words such as courage, brains, and loyalty. We are all wizards and witches—each with our own gifts to contribute to the cause. Let us offer them freely, and with determination to succeed in spite of what some would say are daunting odds." Harry looked out at the guests—who were watching him raptly—and smiled before concluding, "Thank you all again for coming. Professor Dumbledore, would you care to restart the music?"
Dumbledore complied with a smile, but few people seemed interested in dancing at that moment. Harry was swarmed by his fellow students, who clapped him on the back, shook his hand, and gave him hugs. Harry patiently bore all of it—though after a while he was feeling a bit battered—and waited for the bulk of the crowd to either head out of the Great Hall to sleep, or to head back to the dance floor or the buffet tables. After about ten minutes, there were only the five friends who had come to Hogwarts with him earlier in the summer, and Harry didn't bother to hide his relief as he turned to them. Neville shook his hand firmly and whispered, "Fine speech, Harry," before slipping away, ignoring Ginny's concerned stare after him. Luna smiled mysteriously at him, but was silent. Ginny hugged him firmly, then left quietly. Ron gave him a quick grin before moving off, surprising Harry—who expected that he'd put up more of a fuss at the idea of Slytherins in the DA. Hermione waited for the last, and hugged him for a long time, whispering, "Oh, Harry—that was wonderful. I know you hate that sort of thing—"
"Well, you've been a bad influence on me, obviously," Harry replied with a deadpan expression. Hermione laughed, and Harry had an unfamiliar impulse. "Would you like to dance?"
Hermione nodded, and they walked to the dance floor, thoughts of the future of Hogwarts momentarily set aside.
Neville watched his two friends dance and sighed. He had been quite glad to let Harry take the forefront in rallying the students to the cause of opposing Voldemort, though he approved completely and intended to do what he could to help the cause. He was wondering about how to best make his excuses and go to get a good night's rest when a dark figure moved up next to him. Neville turned to Professor Snape and said, "Yes, sir?"
"This would be a good time to spirit you away to the infirmary to prepare your cover story and get you ready for the stress the donations will put on you, Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Potter's unexpected display of oratorical skills seems to have your classmates distracted." Snape sounded somewhat distracted, and Neville knew that the Potions Professor would not like to have pointed out to him that he had just paid Harry a compliment, however backhanded. "Are you ready to depart?"
Neville nodded. "Yes sir." They departed through a side entrance in the hall, and neither of them noticed the pair of brown eyes watching them suspiciously as the door closed behind them.
"What do you mean Neville's sick—he looked fine last night!" Hermione frowned in concern as she looked up at Professor Dumbledore's composed expression. They were all in the Great Hall—which had resumed its normal appearance after the party the night before—and had just seen off the party guests on the train before coming back for the morning meal and discovering that Neville was not there.
"Apparently, he took ill after he left the party to retire for the night. He managed to make it to the infirmary without assistance, and Madam Pomfrey examined him and was able to determine what was wrong with him. She decided to immediately have him transferred to St. Mungo's, and I assisted in the process. Apparently, he will need to be in total isolation for several days—you will not be able to visit him."
"Total isolation—what's wrong with him, Professor?" Harry thought ahead, and realized that another trip to the infirmary for him could have catastrophic consequences to the charity game. "Is it contagious?"
"He has Nile Valley Soul Fever," Madam Pomfrey came into view, looking tired but not worried. Hermione's brow knitted, and Pomfrey elaborated, "It's a very obscure disease—there are only two or three mediwitches in Great Britain who could recognize the symptoms. Mr. Longbottom will need four or five days of total bed rest and massive doses of Blood Replenishing Potion—and he will need complete privacy during that time. He will be in a sealed ward at St. Mungo's until he is deemed healthy and released." She noted the worry on the other faces in the room and added, "The rest of you are fine—I cast a detection ward at the entrance of the Great Hall, and none of you registered as being infected. Wherever he caught it—he didn't give it to any of you. I also checked the departing party guests, and none of them will get sick, either."
"That's a lucky break," commented Ron. "It's a shame about Neville, though. He was having fun here, and those dueling practices with Harry were wicked. Hope he'll be all right in time for the match."
"There are provisions for getting messages to sealed wards—I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you sent him some letters during his confinement." Dumbledore spoke gently, and was pleased to see the nods coming from his students. They went back to their seats to eat breakfast, and Dumbledore likewise turned back to his own seat—causing him to miss the now even-greater suspicion in the eyes of one of those students before they turned their attention to their meal.
Hermione looked over the top of the Transfiguration text in front of her and frowned. Their routine for the morning had mostly remained the same, in spite of Neville's enforced absence. Harry was in the air over the Quidditch pitch—Oliver had remained and was there with him and two other members of Puddlemere United—and Ginny had joined them at Harry's request. Ron was poring over a Charms text—some of the gifts that Neville and Harry had received the day before had attracted his attention, and he was reviewing some of the charms that had been used in their construction. Luna had perched next to him and was leaning over his shoulder, pointing to a particular passage. Ron nodded, and Hermione watched the two of them discussing the charm as she raised an eyebrow. They look so comfortable together—he was almost terrified of her last year. She dismissed the thought and looked up at Harry and felt a burst of warmth as she saw the bliss on his face as he soared high above the pitch. He was so amazing last night, and now he's doing something he loves more than anything. I hope things keep going right for him.
Hermione blinked a tear away, then looked back down to where Ron and Luna were sitting—and saw something that shocked her to the core.
Meanwhile, Harry was flying along, effortlessly dodging the Bludgers that the Puddlemere United Beaters were sending his way. He was feeling wonderful, and he was flying better than he ever had before. He dared a glance below and saw that Ginny was holding her own against Oliver in the scoring exercise he was conducting for her. She'll be a great replacement for one of the graduating Chasers this year—we can't lose.
Harry did a high-speed loop to evade a Bludger, and was contemplating the best way to evade the next one when he saw something that made him stop in flight and stare—only reacting enough otherwise to reflexively cast a wandless Banishing Charm that caused the oncoming Bludger to veer off sharply and burrow deep into the turf below, causing Professor Dumbledore (who was watching from his office window) to blink in shock and send a quick owl to Professor Flitwick--in complete disbelief.
Ron had put down his Charms book, and was kissing Luna Lovegood with a great deal of energy and enthusiasm—and Luna didn't seem to mind in the least. Harry heard a caught breath from below, and realized that Ginny had seen the spectacle. He felt a chill, and looked over to where Hermione was sitting.
Hermione was already standing—her eyes firmly fixed on the scene in front of her—by the time Harry spotted her. Without a word, she turned and quietly slipped out of the stands.
Harry cursed under his breath and turned long enough to call, "Be back in a bit, Oliver!" before flying down to the stands and landing. Ron and Luna came up for air and looked at Harry, and Harry was caught in a moment of total ambivalence. It was obvious now what girl Ron had been talking about—as unlikely as it would have seemed only a few months before—and he was genuinely happy for both of his friends. But Hermione. . . He locked eyes with Ron and managed a half-smile before exclaiming in exasperation, "Oh, bloody hell, Ron!" and running after Hermione.
Ron watched him go, and began to stand. "Maybe I should go after them—"
Luna shook her head and smiled. "Trust him, Ronald. Trust both of them. They know what to do, or they will."
Ron blinked and shook his head in bewilderment. "You know that I really don't understand you a lot of the time, right?"
Luna nodded, her eyes as dreamy as ever. "I know, Ronald. I know." She leaned over and kissed him again, and Ron decided that his friends would have to fend for themselves for the moment.
. . . to be continued
As always, comments are welcomed and desired