A/N – SO. I hope you're enjoying this so far, but seriously, you ain't seen nothing yet. I realize that at the moment I am writing for one person, that I know of. But that's all it took, and I remembered all the things I had planned for this fic, and revived it. Hopefully it'll pick up more readers as we go along…spread the word, because RENEE IS BACK! (and hopefully I'll get around to finishing Hidden Scars, too, because seriously, what I have planned for that fic kind of amazes/scares ME sometimes, in that I was able to come up with it, lol.) OH WELL. ENJOY.

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Chapter 12 – Those That Do Not Learn From Their Mistakes…

"Hermione? Troy? I'm home!" boomed Ron Weasley's deep voice from the foyer of their house.

Troy flew into the foyer and threw his arms around his father's waist. "Daddy!" he exclaimed.

Hermione Granger-Weasley's padded into the foyer, her bushy brown hair tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. She, too, put her arms around Ron, and kissed his neck. "Yes, Daddy, we missed you."

"And you," he said, kissing her forehead. "Where's Nor –" he stopped himself.

"I know, I always forget that she's not here anymore," said Hermione. "But I do have a wonderful letter from her for you." She pulled the folded parchment out of her pocket and handed it to Ron, smiling gently.

As he read the signatures on the back, Ron thought his heart was going to explode from pride. "Were we like that when we were eleven?" he asked his wife.

"You? At eleven?" Hermione snorted. "Don't get me started on that."

"You weren't too great yourself," Ron said accusingly, and went back to the letter. "Kingsley, sounds familiar…and no, not because it's Kingsley Shacklebolt's first name," said Ron before Hermione could get a word in. "And Darby, that's the surname of the Kenmare Kestrel's publicist."

"I'm sure there are more Darbys out there, Ron," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"And what's this one…Malloy?" Ron squinted at the paper. "No, it's…"

The parchment fell to the floor.

"Malfoy?" he yelled.

Hermione picked up the fallen letter. "No, maybe it does say Malloy, that's a relatively common name," she said.

"No, Hermione," said Ron, his voice shaking, "There is clearly a line through the second 'l' in that name. That makes it an 'f'. And the presence of an 'f' clearly makes the person called Vincent's surname Malfoy!"

"Mommy," said Troy from some three feet below them, "What's a Malfoy?"

"Nothing, Troy," said Ron.

"You know, now that I think of it, it's not that common a name," said Hermione, biting her lip. She knew that her daughter had sound judgment, but she was still eleven years old…could there be another Malfoy out there? Could he be trying to befriend Nora so that his family could cause her harm?

"I said it, I said we shouldn't have let her out of the house," said Ron darkly. "But did you listen to me? No, of course not. Never listen to Ron –"

"Ron, enough. Fire-call Minerva and ask her what the situation is."

"I'll do more than that. I'll ask to speak to my baby girl and make sure she never associates with a Malfoy. This isn't an I-hate-Malfoys thing, Hermione, this is a making-sure-my-daughter-is-safe thing. I'm not taking any chances, not with my Norling."

"You can't forbid her from associating with someone, that's completely irrational," said Hermione, clicking her tongue.

"Oh yes I can," said Ron, storming past his son and wife and into the study.

"Why is Daddy mad?" asked Troy, tugging on his mother's robes.

Hermione sighed. "Because he loves your sister very much."

Troy frowned. Somehow that equation didn't make sense in his six-year old mind.

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Nora stalked into the Gryffindor Common Room, her face as red as her hair, fists clenched at her sides. She walked straight up to Vin, and drew in a deep breath.

"Vin, I'd like you to know that my dad's just told me I'm not allowed to talk to you, on account of your last name, and that I'm going to talk to you anyway," she said, and, before she could register the look of utter confusion on the faces of him and everyone around him, turned and marched up the stairs to her dormitory, then threw herself onto her bed. Immediately the pillow was wet with her tears. Alexandria and Sandrine, who were in the room, exchanged glances, which Nora, her face buried in her sopping wet pillow, still could feel somehow.

But the next moment, Morag was there. She hurried to Nora's bedside. "Nora, what happened?" she said, her voice full of concern.

Nora sat up. "Oh, nothing, you know, just a regular day. What with my dad fire calling the Headmistress to ask why she's allowed me to make friends with a boy, and then telling me that I'm not allowed to talk to him. You'd think that Vin was walking around school wearing a black hood and saying 'Oi, check out this Dark Mark, isn't it neat!'"

"Oh, Nora, really?" said Morag painedly. "Why?"

"Because he's not thinking!" said Nora angrily. "He thinks that just because Vin is a Malfoy, he's automatically on some instructions from a Dark wizard to get close to me, so that he can, I don't know, kidnap me and deliver me to the Dark wizard to use as ransom against my mum and dad. He's an Auror, so when he gets paranoid, things stop making sense. You'd think," she said bitterly, "That after the Second Voldemort War, he'd have realized that blood doesn't matter. What was that I kept hearing about Harry's godfather, Sirius Black? How his entire family were pureblood elitists, but he fought against Voldemort to the death? And yet it's impossible for there to be a normal, non-evil Malfoy, right?"

"Shh, Nora, it's okay," said Morag. "Your father just wants you to be safe, and that's making him close-minded. You know some of the atrocities that the Malfoy family committed during the Second Voldemort War, well, he just doesn't want that done to you. I know that blood doesn't have to mean anything, that a Muggle-born can be more powerful than a pureblood, that the child of two Slytherins can be a Hufflepuff, that – that you can choose who you want to be, and sometimes you choose to be just like your parents and sometimes you choose to be the opposite. Draco Malfoy did choose to be just like his parents, though, so maybe your father was just a tiny bit right to be worried, but he should have listened to your side before forbidding you from talking to a friend he's never met." Morag drew in a deep breath. "Sorry…" she said sheepishly. "I get really worked up over things like this. Ever since my older brother sent home an angry letter saying that kids were making fun of him because my dad's a Muggle. Those kids don't know my dad, they have no right at all to say anything about him, and I bet that he has more good in his little finger than those stupid kids' parents did in their entire bodies," she finished passionately.

Nora had stopped crying. "You're right, Morag," she whispered with a smile. "Thanks."

"Well. What are friends for, right?" said Morag.

At the other end of the room, she was aware of Alexandria and Sandrine whispering heatedly to each other, but didn't have the energy to tell them off. Morag followed her gaze to the two girls, and then rolled her eyes and grinned at Nora.

Well, I know who I'm voting for to be allowed next into the Inter-House Alliance, Nora thought to herself with satisfaction.

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"Good morning, Seamus, how are you feeling?" said Harry.

"Harry, mate! I'm great, thanks. Especially now I've got this to keep me distracted from the pain," said Seamus, holding up one bandaged hand that held the photograph of the five tablets.

"I just came by to thank you, really," Harry confessed. "You've no idea how much of a help this is."

"Harry," Seamus said easily. "Even if I weren't stuck in this bloody bed, I'd not stop until I decoded all of these ruddy things. This is much more important than anything else I'd be doing." He shuddered. "Just think, if this were happening twenty years ago…instead of that Drake boy, it might have been me in that Black Slumber. Harry, really, I'm glad to do it."

Harry's heart was warmed by Seamus' dedication to the cause. "Thanks, Seamus. Have you found anything new?"

Seamus frowned as he turned back to the photograph. "This second tablet's giving me some trouble," he confessed. "I think they encoded it doubly, even after playing around with the characters. It's a code I might not be familiar with…you know, this may go even faster if you let some other rune specialists see it," he suggested.

"I'd have to get clearance," Harry said wearily. "That's no easy task."

"It's worth it, if we can solve this and stop more kids from getting attacked." Seamus shook his head. "You know, Harry, mate, it kills me. Why is it always Hogwarts? Everything always goes through Hogwarts. Why is this wizarding terrorist group targeting Hogwarts, and not, say, Beauxbatons?"

"I couldn't tell you, Seamus. Maybe they're British. Or maybe they're French, and are targeting Hogwarts so that we'll think they're British. Maybe they're after Hogwarts because everyone's always said it was the safest, most invincible place around. Even with Dumbledore gone, it's pretty impenetrable."

"Impenetrable, yeah," said Seamus. "Except every time something's gone wrong, it's been because something was working against Hogwarts from the inside, something that was put there without force at all. Quirrel. That basilisk thing. Moody's impostor. Umbridge. Professor Sinistra. They didn't just get in, they were put there by a Hogwarts Headmaster, Harry."

"So what you're saying," said Harry in a strangled voice, "Is that the Preservatists must have someone working within Hogwarts?"

Seamus stared at him. "No, that's not what I was…but…Jay-sus, Harry," he whistled, "doesn't that sound like it might be the truth?"

"I have to go," Harry jumped up, "Seamus, you're a right genius. Thanks again," and he ran out the door.

As he sprinted towards the first floor of the wizard hospital, Harry mentally kicked himself and thought, you'd think we would have learned from our mistakes by now…

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A/N. Okay. But still. It'll get even BETTER, I PROMISE.

To the tune of "Baby Got Back" by Sir Mix A Lot

I like reviews and I cannot lie!

You other brothers can't deny

That when I get an alert for a brand new review

A big smile attacks my face and I'm SPRUNG

Want to do a happy dance cause I notice that I've got FANS!

Deep in my heart I'm singing, so loud that my ears are ringing

Oh baby, I want to keep writing, these reviews are so inviting!

My homeboys try to stop me, but that review you left makes me so happy!

OOH! All my friends want to make me get into their Benz,

Well excuse me, someone reviewed me, and I'm gonna keep writing – sue me!

You see me dancing….JESUS CHRIST I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW LONG THE FIRST VERSE OF THIS SONG IS. I'm sorry, but I can't finish it, I just can't. It already makes little to no sense. So for the love of god, just review. Lol. Thanks!