Ok, sorry for the delay - been busy selling my house and moving, so the past few weeks have been crazy!

Thanks to my reviewers:

Foxer - thanks for setting me straight on Voldemort and Parvati - I hate it when I get things wrong like that - and such simple stuff too! I've gone back and changed it. I haven't read the fic you mentioned, but I'm sure I'm won't be the last one to write a fic that has SS and a Weasley relative. Hopefully you can just enjoy my story for what it is! (utter crap! lol) :-)

Daunting Darkness - your faithfulness in reading this fic makes me so happy! I don't like flamers much either, as they tend to just be bitchy for no reason, but constructive criticism is always welcome. Thanks for reviewing again - no Imperious curse for you!

So....here's part 4. Enjoy!

Hannah made her way back to her rooms slowly, enjoying her trip through the halls. She stopped occasionally to speak with portraits that greeted her and learned a little more about Hogwarts from each one. She absolutely loved the old castle, you could just feel the history that was imbedded in the very stone. After she had wandered awhile, her thoughts turned to her cousins - fine young adults they both were, and a lot of fun to be around. She was also impressed with Harry Potter. He was different than she had expected – more soft-spoken, self-effacing and humble than she thought The Boy Who Lived would be.

'Too self-effacing to make a move on Ginny,' Hannah thought suddenly, with regret. She had caught the quiet adoration in the young man's eyes whenever he looked at her cousin. She sensed that Harry would never make his feelings known - especially not when the object of his affections had a boyfriend. It would be a situation worth keeping an eye on though, she decided.

She had stopped at a T-junction in the hall and was enjoying a particularly gory tale from one of the paintings when a voice spoke from behind her. "Lumos," it said.

She turned to see who it was. Standing down the hall, half hidden in the shadows, was Severus Snape. "Good evening, Professor Snape," Hannah greeted her colleague as he drew near. When he made no response, she began to ramble, "I was just enjoying a story from Sir Abernathy here, and I guess I lost track of time. I didn't realize how late it was and..."

"You are a teacher here, are you not, Miss Grace?" interrupted Snape in a quiet, sibilant voice.

"Well, yes. I was just..."

Snape smoothly continued, "Then do not apologize for being out in the hallways. I assure you, there is no curfew for teachers here at Hogwarts."

Hannah smiled warily up at the black-robed wizard while she mentally kicked herself. "Of course. Well, I'd better be off. Good night, professor." Snape merely bent his head a fraction to her as she brushed past him and resumed her trip to her rooms. She could feel his eyes on her as she left.

As she rounded the corner, she relaxed and let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in. Whether he intended to be or not, Snape was rather intimidating. Hannah groaned as she remembered what a babbling mess she had been. 'So much for cool, calm and collected,' she thought ruefully.

"Ok, welcome to your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I am Professor Grace, as you know, and I am looking forward to a year full of learning and, I hope, a lot of fun. Now, take out your textbooks and we'll start at Chapter 1 – Advanced Disarming spells. I'll give you a moment to read the chapter, then we'll try some of them out." As she watched the students follow her instructions, Hannah relaxed somewhat. She was always nervous at the beginning of a term.

Draco tipped his chair back on two legs, arms crossed and eyes on the ceiling. He was much more advanced than this – it was a waste of his time to sit here and do what was really just revision. His father had been intensively training him since he began attending Hogwarts. 'Not for my own protection, of course. It was only so the Malfoy name wasn't dishonored,' he thought bitterly. He was looking forward to the practical lesson though – he wanted to some of the disarming spells on Potter or Weasley. He amused himself for a while thinking about sending them flying across the room in various ways.

Bored, he began looking around the room. He spotted one other person who also wasn't reading their text. 'Granger. Why am I not surprised?' he asked himself. She probably had read it over the summer holiday. He shook his head – how boring it must be to be so...so studious all the time. Did she not have any other interests? Any friends to hang around with – other than Potter and Weasley? Probably not, after all, she WAS a mudblood. Who'd want to be friends with someone like that?

She really hadn't changed during her years at Hogwarts he mused. Still had bushy hair, same lack of fashion sense. He supposed her eyes were rather fine, but as they were always narrowed at him with dislike, he couldn't really attest to that. Her face would be striking, he thought, if only she would make an effort to tame that head of hair!

As he was thinking, he tilted his chair back a little further to get a better look at Hermione...

CRASH!

The entire class turned to look at the source of the noise, which happened to be sheepishly getting to his feet. After glaring at the rest of the class, he righted his chair and sat back down. Hannah, trying hard not to smile, walked over to Draco's desk and asked, "Alright, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco sneered at the professor and looked away, his cheeks turning slightly pink. Hannah arched an eyebrow at him, then returned to Dean, who had been asking her a question about the materiel they were studying.

Ron and Harry were having trouble containing their laughter. Harry had tears in his eyes, and Ron was chewing on his fist to keep from guffawing out loud. Hermione sent an exasperated look to the two of them, even though she had been hard pressed to contain her laughter when the accident occurred. 'The look on his face! Where's a camera when you need one?' she thought. She chewed her quill thoughtfully, wondering if she should tease him about it in the common room later that night. No, she reminded herself sternly, she was trying to be mature. That meant not provoking fights. She mentally shrugged. Oh well. The memory alone would keep her amused for a long time!

A palpable excitement ran through the student body like an electric current as October 1st and the auditions drew closer. It was the only topic of conversation, overshadowing the student's studies, even the upcoming Quidditch season. The teachers were hard pressed to keep the youngster's focus on learning.

"Now, you need to make sure you wave your wand properly during this spell; if you do it improperly, the consequences can be dire..." Professor McGonagall trailed off as she watched her class all but ignore her. Whispered conversations were being held all over the room. She sighed in exasperation as she realized she wasn't holding their attention.

"Really, people. I understand that the upcoming competition is a riveting subject, but do try and concentrate for 5 minutes. There is a time and place for things, and my classroom is not the place. If I may continue..." The students all sat up and paid attention – for almost 5 minutes. Then the whispering began again. Minerva threw her hands up in the air and sighed again. She leaned up against her desk and watched for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips involuntarily. If you can't beat them, she thought fondly.

"Alright. So who among you will be auditioning?" she asked the students. About 15 hands promptly shot up. "That's all?" A couple more hands were slowly raised. "Excellent. I'm sure you will all do your best to make this competition a memorable one. I'm looking forward to judging you."

"You're one of the judges, Professor?" said Harry, surprised. "Yes Mr. Potter, I am. Why does that surprise you so much?" Harry turned red and began to stammer out an apology, but the professor silenced him. "Believe it or not, I can sing, and I have a good ear for music. I was actually in a group – nothing like your rock and roll nowadays, but we were quite good, I must say. I think I'm more qualified than most in this school to judge your talents," she said primly. The students tittered at the thought of their professor on stage performing.

"Now," she continued, giving up the class for lost, "as we are not getting anywhere with this lecture, I believe that we should break early for lunch. Off you go," she dismissed them with a wave. The students, not believing their good luck, scrambled to collect their things before McGonagall changed her mind.

"Wow, that was a first," exclaimed Ron as he, Harry and Hermione made their way out of the classroom. "She must be getting soft in her old age."

Harry laughed and said, "Soft? McGonagall? You're the one going soft Ron, right between the ears if you think that." He looked slyly over at Hermione; "Have you decided whether or not you'll be auditioning?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not yet. I still have time – you have until the day before at dinnertime to sign up. I'm still thinking about it. I'm going back to the Head dorms to review for a bit before lunch. See you in the Great Hall!"

Ron sighed. "I love her dearly, but seriously. How hard can it be to decide? How much do you want to bet that she'll be standing in front of the sign up sheet up to the last second, debating with herself?"

Harry smiled at his friend, "I guess she just doesn't want to be embarrassed. It takes a lot of guts to do that sort of thing. All we can do is support her, whatever her decision."

"Yeah. Hey! You know what an early lunch means, right?" When Harry shook his head, Ron rolled his eyes and grabbed his friend's arm, dragging him towards the Great Hall, "It means more time to eat!" he declared with relish. The corridor rang with Harry's helpless laughter as he was pulled towards the Hall.

Ok, you know what to do - tell me I'm brilliant, tell me I suck. Just let me know! :-)