Chapter One
Back to School
Harry felt euphoric to be walking into the school again. It was wonderful going with the Weasleys in their rented cars to Platform 9-3/4. It was wonderful to meet Hermione there and go through the ritual of finding a seat on the Hogwarts Express for the long ride to the school. The weather was beautiful and sunny, and despite the horrendous ending to the last school year, despite the fight against Voldemort that had only recently taken place and even despite the late start to the first term, he was still grateful to be going back. It felt like things were finally returning to normal.
"So, do you know who's going to be teaching what, now that Dumbledore and Snape are gone?" Ron asked, hesitant to bring up either name, remembering Harry's past reactions.
"Well, I heard Professor Lupin may come back for Defense against the Dark Arts," Hermione adjusted the carrier that held her bottle-brush-tailed orange cat, Crookshanks. "McGonagall will still teach Transfiguration, even though she's Headmistress now."
Harry had heard from Lupin that he might be trading his underground dealings with the werewolves to come back to Hogwarts, but wasn't sure which would be most beneficial to the ongoing war against the Dark Side. Harry was happy to know that Lupin picked teaching. He had been one of the best DADA teachers they had.
"What about Potions?" Harry asked, thinking he already knew the answer.
"Slughorn is back, mostly because it's only for part of the year."
Harry nodded and looked out the window of the train. They had missed all of September and most of October, but the students and teachers had agreed to remain at the school over the holiday break to make up for it. The seventh-years, Harry included, would be taking their N.E.W.T.s, the last exams before students officially became wizards and witches, and they would need all the additional time they could find.
Dumbledore had told Harry that they would have to keep fighting the battles against Lord Voldemort, keep fighting until there was less of him—and his evil—to fight. Harry knew that he would keep doing whatever he needed to until he was truly ready to go after the remaining Horcruxes. He had destroyed another one just a few weeks earlier when Jordan Taylor came into his life. Together, they had been on a journey, not entirely of their own design, that came to the unhappy discovery that Jordan was actually the Ravenclaw horcrux, even though she was a Muggle—or thought she was.
Fortunately, they were able to extract the horcrux from her and keep her alive at the same time. Harry destroyed it and weakened Voldemort enough to buy the Wizarding World more time. Harry vowed to use this time to return to school and grow stronger and more confident of what powers he already possessed.
"Have you talked to Jordan recently?" Hermione asked as if suddenly mastering Occlumency.
"Last week. She's off on another book tour."
"So, what's going on with you guys?" Ron had been dying to ask but never felt it was the right moment.
"We're just friends…," Harry smiled.
"Come on, mate. Tell us!"
Harry wished he had more of a story to tell them, but actually was kind of glad he didn't. He knew even though Hermione liked Jordan well enough, she thought the twenty-something writer was too old for him. In truth, there was only a few years between them, but still Hermione managed to stop speaking when the subject of their relationship came up. It irked Harry who thought he deserved to be happy as much as the next guy, especially when Ron and Hermione had a full blown relationship going. At least they had the common decency not to be snogging in front of him, and kept the public displays of affection down to merely holding hands or putting a stray arm around each other.
"We've talked on the phone, that's all. I really haven't seen her since I went to her mum's house right after it happened."
He smiled just thinking about that time. Jordan had been so grateful to Harry to be home and alive that she had fawned all over him. He truly felt like he had a girlfriend, like he had when he was with Ginny. Most importantly, he seemed to finally have a real home. Jordan's family treated him like family the minute he stepped inside the front door. They all went to the mall and out for walks; he played Xbox with Jordan's nephews Tyler and Chris, went to the movies with them, had dinner with her family, even met Jordan's friends. He had never felt more "normal" in his life.
"And what was it like spending all that time in a Muggle house?" Ron leaned over Hermione to grab a Chocolate Frog they had bought off the lady that came by with the food trolley.
"Hey!" Hermione said exasperated. "You'd know the answer to that if you'd bother to come to my house once in a while!"
Ron grinned sheepishly and put the entire frog in his mouth.
"I used to live in a Muggle house, remember?" Harry said, laughing. "But it is much better to be with Muggles who treat you nice! Her mum is great and so are her nephews. It's odd, they play wizard video games. I'm pretty good at them, actually."
"And what is Jordan doing while you're off playing video games?" Hermione opened the cage and let Crookshanks settle on her lap.
Harry gave her his best Hermione-ish stare and continued, "She was visiting with her family and just hanging out with me. Why? What do you and Ron do?"
"Hang out, I guess. Well, it looks like it's time to get into robes."
Hagrid was waiting on the Hogsmeade platform for them with a smile going from ear to ear. It was wonderful to see the kids back at Hogwarts. The first years tentatively stepped off the train, dragging robes that were a little too long for them. They looked around, amazed and awed by the grandness of their new home. Hagrid held his lantern aloft in the brilliant darkness as more and more students filed off the cars. Professor McGonagall would be proud to see how many returned, despite the death of Albus Dumbledore, one of the most well-respected Headmasters the school had ever seen.
"Harry! How're ya doin'?" Hagrid waved as more seventh-years clambered out.
"Fine, Hagrid! How about you?" He was genuinely glad to see the half-giant, with his long dark hair and beard and disheveled clothes.
"Good, good…heard wha' happened to ya. Job well done. Knew ya had it in ya!"
Harry looked down, feeling his neck tingle with embarrassment as the newer students began to realize who he was. Hagrid became distracted then by the first years as they gathered in front of him for their first trip to the castle. First years traveled by boat, to see Hogwarts in a way not to be forgotten. Harry was glad for the hustle and bustle and made his way in a carriage with the rest of his class.
"Seems strange not to have to deal with Malfoy," Hermione whispered.
"I know…," Ron agreed.
"I can't say I'm sorry," Harry scooched over so a couple of fifth-years could get inside. "Although I'm sure he'd much rather be here."
Hermione nodded. The carriages stopped and the students piled out, walking up the stairs. The noise of friends reuniting and the howling wind was nearly deafening. Harry shivered, wondering how much Quidditch practice he'd be able to get in before the snow came.
After listening to Professor McGonagall give the welcome speech (Harry had to look away when she talked about Dumbledore), watching the Sorting Hat put the First Years into their houses, and then partaking of an enormous feast, Harry, Ron and Hermione exhaustedly headed to their dorms.
Hermione looked at both of them with a sleepy eye, before going to the girl's dormitories, "I'm so glad we're back."
Harry smiled and nodded. He was too.
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Jordan woke up, suddenly. Blinking back the tears that only a nightmare could bring, she sat up and looked around her hotel room. She stood, went into the bathroom and turned on the light. Splashing cold water on her face, she took a drink then sat at the desk, looking out at the water below.
It had seemed so real. This was the third dream she'd had where Harry had been brutally killed. Jordan didn't know who had killed him, but didn't doubt it had something to do with Voldemort. She kept trying to convince herself the dreams came because of all that she had gone through with Snape, Malfoy and the Dark Lord himself; things that no one should ever have to go through, much less someone who had no idea they came from a very magical family.
Jordan lit a cigarette; she had taken to smoking in secret, since her nerves had become so fragile. She hated herself for it, but didn't know what else to do. She didn't dare tell Harry what was happening to her, for fear he'd quit school and try to stay with her. He had to graduate, to learn to be the best wizard he could, to fight and destroy Voldemort.
Restlessly, she stood and looked out at the area surrounding the Moat House, her hotel in Glasgow. Only 5 lectures from the end of her book tour, she wondered what she would do next. She hated to stop even for a moment, if that would allow the images of the skeletal face and snake-like eyes of Lord Voldemort to make their way into her brain again.
There was a flash from below. Jordan swore she saw a cloaked figure holding a wand. She threw herself behind the drapes, as close to the wall as she could get. Were they still watching her? Even after Harry had destroyed the horcrux?
This wasn't the first time she had felt like she was being watched. On different street corners in different parts of the U.K., Jordan swore she had seen cloaks billowing around a corner just as she approached, or passing by her in a blur from her seat on the Tube. Each time she shook her head, chucked the sightings away as scars from her recent past. But now, they were becoming too numerous to be coincidences. Harry had told her that Witches and Wizards walked among Muggles—or non-magic people—every day. That had been hard enough to swallow, but to know that the Dark Lord—the most powerful and evil wizard ever known was having her followed was too much.
Jordan closed the drapes and sat at the desk again. She took out the hotel stationary and wrote:
Professor McGonagall:
My name is Jordan Taylor. I'm sure you heard what happened at Hogwarts a few weeks ago. I feel I am still in danger and wondered if it be possible to get some one on one training with yourself or any of the other teachers at the school, so I am better prepared for what may lie ahead? I am at the Moat House Hotel in Glasgow, Scotland. I am sending this by owl, and will await your reply.
Sincerely, Jordan Taylor
She shook her head and began to crumple up the paper. What was she thinking? But looking at the drawn drapes and thinking aobut what could be lurking outside them steeled her resolve and she neatly folded the letterhead, stuffed it into the accompanying envelope and personalized it. Now, where would she get an owl?
Slowly, she peeked from behind the gold drapes and seeing the coast was clear, she stood in front of the window and called, "Accio, Owl!" Feeling completely ridiculous, she finished her cigarette and paced back and forth a few times. Then, she saw it--a speck of something coming toward her in the distance. As the object grew larger, she noticed it the bird and whooped with joy, then covered her mouth, hoping she hadn't awakened anyone in the rooms around her. She turned the hand crank for the window and watched the owl sail effortlessly inside. Complete with a pocket for messages, she waited patiently for Jordan to fold the letter, attach it and give instructions to deliver it to Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Jordan felt better already. Now, if only she could attend Hogwarts without disrupting Harry's life.
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The snow came early, so much so that it seemed impossible that they would get to Hogsmeade for their first Saturday visit. Harry sat in the back of his Potions class, feet up under the chair in front of him, listening to Professor Slugworth, head of the Slug Club and a teacher Harry still wasn't too sure about despite two years of instruction. The class wasn't nearly as exciting as last year's when he had the Half-Blood Prince's book complete with notes, helping him ace every one of his assignments. This year, he was having a hard time staying awake. Homework had become overwhelming already, if that was possible; it kept them all up until late in the night. Looking to his right, Harry saw Hermione scribbling furiously in her journal to be sure she didn't miss anything that might find its way onto the N.E.W.T.s.
Sleep threatened to overtake him and somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was working out one or two Quidditch plays he'd sketched out the previous weekend. Ron was no more enthralled than he was by Slughorn, and Harry tried to suppress a laugh when Ron's head slid off his hand and down toward the desk.
Then Harry saw Professor McGonagall out of the corner of his eye and sat up straighter, just in case she decided to come into his classroom. But then Jordan walked by…he was sure of it. It took all his will power not to jump out of his seat. What was she doing at Hogwarts? Had she missed him enough to visit? Thoughts swirled through his mind. Where was she going to stay? How long would she be there? Did he look alright?
"What is it?" Ron whispered.
"Jordan is here!"
"Really?" Ron craned his neck to see if he could spy her. Hermione gave him a none-too-gentle nudge in the ribs to quiet him down.
After class, Harry decided to forego his free period and search the school for Jordan. He was sure it had been her and thought perhaps she might be in McGonagall's office. As he headed to the immense gargoyle on the north side of the 6th floor, he spotted them moving away from the Trophy Room. He didn't know why, but he hid behind a pillar, his breath shallow and his palms sweaty.
What was she doing at Hogwarts?
Wiping his hands on his pants, he moved out of his hiding place and walked down the corridor to intercept them.
"Professor McGonagall…," he didn't know how much she knew about them, but decided to play it safe and address the headmistress first.
"Mr. Potter. How are your classes going?"
"Good, thanks."
"Harry, you can say hello to Jordan. I won't prohibit your speaking to each other." McGonagall held her arm out toward the visitor.
"Hello, Harry," Jordan said, smiling.
"Hi, Jordan." How could he have forgotten how she affected him?
"Well, I'll leave you to it. Jordan, just give me a few moments to attend to some things and then meet me in my office. I'll take you to your rooms."
"Thank you, Headmistress."
Both Harry and Jordan were silent until McGonagall was out of sight. Then Harry whirled to face her, "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, just visiting." Jordan walked quickly toward the pillar behind which Harry was hiding only moments before.
He stood next to her, looking out over the Quidditch pitch. "You're not telling me something. Did you think I wouldn't want you here?"
"Well, I was hoping I could at least get settled before we talked. I should have realized that during the tour Professor McGonagall decided to give me that we'd have to walk by one of your classes."
"Look, I have to go back now. My free period is just about over, but then you and I can talk, okay?"
Jordan nodded. Harry smiled at her again and then left, rushing to make it to his Defense against the Dark Arts double period on the first floor. Jordan took a deep breath and tried to find her way back to the gargoyle.
"Tartan," she gave the password and stepped onto the rotating staircase.
Chapter Two
A Long Explanation
"Professor McGonagall, this is too much—really…"
"Nonsense," the headmistress waved Jordan's compliments away. "It's probably much more appropriate having you in this wing, away from all the students."
"Yes, Ma'am," Jordan looked around the spacious room. She had a turret of the castle to herself. If Hogwarts was a hotel, the room would be equivalent to a suite.
"I took the liberty of making you a schedule of classes or at least meetings with some instructors. I also reserved your books. Don't worry about payment. For a direct descendent of Rowena Ravenclaw, we are honored to extend our hospitality to you."
Jordan smiled at McGonagall's slight brogue, "Again, I really appreciate this, Professor."
"Call me, Minerva, please." She headed, in a swish of green robes, toward the door. Before departing, she turned quickly, "Oh, Miss Taylor…"
"Jordan…,"
"I know I don't have to say it's probably for the best if you don't—fraternize—with the students here. I'm not saying not to be friendly, but we don't want to give the wrong impression."
"With Harry, you mean," Jordan smiled.
"Yes, well, we both know that anything that goes on with Mr. Potter is cause for National News. I don't know how much the student body knows about what happened to you both, but I don't want to give them a reason for any more pointing or staring at the poor boy. And I know he fancies you a bit…it just wouldn't seem right, my condoning behavior…"
"Prof-um, Minerva, please don't worry. I understand completely. First, just so you know, nothing at all has happened between us. We are friends and well, he saved my life. I owe him a great debt. Neither of us would ever do anything to disgrace this school."
The headmistress smiled, "Thank you."
When she left, Jordan sighed and sat on her four-poster bed, excited about what lay before her. Her cell phone was off limits, so she had left explicit instructions with her New York agent not to bother her. She told him she was doing research in a remote area of Britain and would be in touch with him as soon as she could.
The bed was draped in dark, heavy fabric and the room had an unmistakable masculinity about it. She saw nothing electric in the room, but only candles on mismatched wooden tables. On the desk sat two large bundles of rolled parchment paper, a set of five quills, an inkstand and four wooden pencils without erasers. Next to the parchment were her books: Standard Book of Spells, Grades 1, 2, 3 and 4, two Potions books, a text on Advanced Rune interpretation and two Defense against the Dark Arts books. McGonagall must have thought she had a lot of catching up to do.
She went to the window to check her view when she heard a knock on the door. Jordan knew it was Harry before even turning around. He was smiling again.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
McGonagall's words rang in her ears. She did owe him an explanation of what she was doing there, though.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jordan smiled. "I was just asked not to get too close to the students here."
Harry sat at her desk, perusing the covers of her textbooks and scowling, "Really?"
"Now, don't get upset. Professor McGonagall's absolutely right. Do you want any more attention paid to you than you already have? Everyone's going to be wondering about me anyway; imagine if we're constantly hanging around together? You are a student, Harry."
"Oh, please…"
"I'm not going to say anymore about it."
His face brightened as he looked around, "This is a great room! I've never seen it before."
"I feel spoiled."
Harry laughed, "Well, it does separate you from all of us, doesn't it?"
Jordan shook her head, "So, how're Ron and Hermione?"
"Fine. Hey, we have Quidditch practice tomorrow and we're going on our first trip of term to Hogsmeade next week. Can you come with us?"
"I think so. I don't see why I couldn't. What's Hogsmeade?"
"Remember when you came to the Burrow—and it was an all-wizard house? Well Hogsmeade is an all-wizard village! The shops are brilliant! There's Zonko's Joke Shop and Honeyduke's candy…"
Jordan just stared at him. In that one instant, Harry looked and acted more like a teenager than he ever had before. She suddenly felt terribly guilty.
"Now I've gone and done something, haven't I?" he said.
"No, no, you haven't. I'm just tired, I guess."
He stood, "Right. I'm sorry. I should have known." He turned to leave, but then stopped, suddenly, "Hey, you never told me why you're here."
"I've been—seeing things."
"What kinds of things?"
"Figures, Shadows, People."
He took her hand, "Has something happened to you?"
"No, I-well, I just feel like I'm being watched. I'm probably just being paranoid."
"Jordan…"
She smiled at him, wondering how she was going to put a stop to it all, "Look, Harry. It's probably nothing. McGonagall and some of the other teachers here are going to help me out. I'll take a few lessons then leave."
His face fell, "Leave? You just got here."
"Harry…I'm going to go to bed. You probably have to get back too. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow."
Without thinking, he hugged her, and felt her resistance. "Erm—yeah, okay. I'll see you at breakfast. Sleep well."
Harry didn't hear anything going on around him in the corridors as he headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Jordan's actions toward him consumed his thoughts. Had he done something? It surely couldn't only be McGonagall's request making her act that way. If she cared for him, truly cared for him, then she would be happy to see him, not distant.
A terrible thought began to creep into his head. Did she find someone else in the few weeks since they'd seen each other? Or perhaps she had a boyfriend this whole time?
"Harry, watch it!" Neville Longbottom moved aside quickly to keep from bumping into him.
"Oh, sorry, Neville," Harry stood in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, his mind suddenly blank.
"Um, Pumpkin Pasties," Neville said, quietly, reminding Harry of the password.
"Oh, right, thanks."
Harry slowly stepped through and passed Dean, Seamus and Ron on his way to the dorm. Once there, he climbed on his bed and lay there, fully dressed.
"Harry?" Ron called, not far behind him.
"What?"
"Was it her?"
Harry nodded.
"What happened? You look—well, terrible, mate."
"I don't know. She's—different. I feel like I missed something important."
"Like what?"
"Dunno. Another guy maybe."
"No!" Ron eagerly sat on his own bed.
"I don't know. But I don't see when she would have the time. I mean, with the book tour and everything…"
Ron pulled off his robe and climbed under the covers, "Hey, why is she here, anyway?"
"I guess she feels like someone's following her. McGonagall offered to tutor her so she would know more about how to do magic."
"Blimey…Do you think it's You-Know-Who?"
Harry shrugged. He couldn't get the thought that there might be someone else in Jordan's life out of his mind.
"It'll be better tomorrow at breakfast," Ron suggested. "She's probably overwhelmed. This is a big place and it's all so new to her. 'Member how it was for us when we first got here; you especially, not having any wizard training."
"Yeah, you're probably right."
Harry watched Ron turn over and go to sleep. He had a hard time closing his eyes and thought he might have finally slept early in the morning. He still woke before Ron, making sure he was dressed, with his hair combed, teeth brushed, and uniform neat when it was time to go.
"Harry!" Hermione smiled when she saw him. "You look—well…"
"What?" He asked, panicked, smoothly out his usually unruly hair and straightening his glasses.
"Wow! You look good!"
He rolled his eyes, "Don't sound so surprised."
"So Jordan is here," Hermione said, going down the stairs and toward the Great Hall.
"McGonagall's giving her lessons," Ron said.
"Well, that's good. Is she eating breakfast with us?"
"I-I think so. She said she'd see me then. I don't want her eating alone, anyway."
"She's not alone," Ron said in a low voice.
"What?"
Pointing at the Ravenclaw table, they could see Jordan engrossed in conversation with a group of Seventh Years. In her twenties or not, she didn't look out of place at all. Harry was just staring, mouth open, ready to say something, but not quite sure what.
Hermione headed inside, "Well, it good she's making friends. Is she staying in the Ravenclaw dorm?"
Harry reluctantly followed them to the Gryffindor table, knowing he couldn't stand at the entrance and stare at her all morning. "No, McGonagall gave her this suite of rooms in the East Tower."
"Professor McGonagall probably told her to sit there, Harry."
He knew Hermione was right. Jordan had mentioned the headmistress's concerns with their being seen together. Taking a little comfort from that, he was able to eat his breakfast.
"Hello Ron...Hermione."
Harry had just finished his breakfast when he heard her. Turning around quickly, he saw Jordan smiling at his best friends.
"Hi!" Ron said, quickly, smiling. "How have you been?"
"Good, how about you? How are your classes?"
"Great!" Hermione said. "I can't wait to take the N.E.W.T.s!"
Ron rolled his eyes, "Our exams…," he explained when Jordan looked puzzled. "She's a bit of an overachiever."
Hermione punched him in the arm, "If you need help with anything, Jordan just let me know."
"Thanks, I'll probably take you up on that."
"Well, Harry, we'll see you in class." Ron and Hermione left together and Jordan sat down next to him.
"Morning…"
He tried to smile but found he felt angry, "I was—surprised to find you at the Ravenclaw table."
"Why? I'm officially a Ravenclaw."
"I know, but I thought we'd be able to at least eat together."
"We will, Harry. Professor McGonagall escorted me down here and…"
"That's what Hermione thought."
"And you didn't believe her?"
He laughed, "I did."
She stood, putting her hand on his shoulder, "I better go. I have a lesson with Professor…," she looked at her schedule, "um, Lupin."
"Oh, Defense against the Dark Arts. He's really good. You'll learn a lot.
"Good…well, I'll see you later."
He watched her walk off and something told him that things weren't quite right.
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Jordan chose not to watch Harry's Quidditch practice after all. The snow had stopped falling, but winter was upon them. It was too cold, in Jordan's opinion, to sit outside for four hours, watching him fly.
Harry was a typical sports nut, though. He told her that if the sun was out, his strategy would be to drill his team to perfection. She spent most of the afternoon justifying why she didn't go, knowing he'd be angry. She had homework to finish, even though she had only spent one week in classes. Jordan appreciated the teachers taking time to work with her privately, but she didn't understand why she had to write essays on parchment, and with a quill pen. She wasn't, after all, really attending Hogwarts, just learning the basics for spells she needed in order to survive.
Jordan also had her work. The writing deadlines didn't stop just because she was out of the country, so to speak. She kept researching and writing her book, trying to send periodic messages to her publisher if she could.
After an hour and a half of trying to decipher Hermione's favorite subject of Ancient Runes, Jordan gave up to stretch her legs. The sun was beginning to set and she knew Harry would be returning any moment, regaling her with how wonderful—or awful—Quidditch practice was. She strolled down the corridor from her little wing and suddenly heard music.
Following the beautiful sound, she went past the Library and into an intersection of hallways. The music emanated from a room behind the staircase only visible from the stairs themselves. She approached the door and saw Remus Lupin sitting, reading a book, while a record turned on an old gramophone.
She smiled at the scene then turned to walk away. Her shoes echoed and Lupin looked up. His scarred face was not as pale as Jordan remembered it when she met him in Little Hangleton.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I heard the music and I…"
"That's alright, that's alright. Come on in."
Jordan entered and looked around. The gramophone sat on top of Lupin's trunk. The book, Rime of the Ancient Mariner, lay open on his desk.
"I thought your office would be downstairs, by your…"
"…classroom?" He interrupted. When Jordan nodded, he smiled again. "No, I prefer not to be down there any longer than I have to. Did my music disturb you?"
"Oh no…actually, I adore this piece."
Lupin took the arm of the gramophone and put it at the start of the song again. Jordan slowly moved toward him until she was leaning against another desk. Only the record player was between them.
"It's actually a relatively recent composition. Did you know that?"
Jordan closed her eyes as her favorite part soared high above her, "No, I didn't. I thought it was from the age of Bach or Hyden."
Lupin smiled and shook his head, "No…this is from the 20th Century. Amazing. It already has been performed thousands of times by so many different artists. It's beautiful. I have to admit, I am surprised you've heard it."
She opened her eyes. "Why?"
"Because I've never met anyone who has."
"Really?"
He laughed, "Maybe it's just because I don't get around much!"
She laughed, too. "How's Tonks? That's her name, isn't it?"
"Yes. She's fine, thank you. She's an Auror, you know, so she is busy, off on an assignment."
"An Auror?"
"Yes, she catches Death Eaters."
Jordan nodded. She knew what those were now, having met a few only recently. She preferred to listen to the music, however. "Oh, right here! I love this part!"
They listened quietly as the music swelled, then died again with the vibrating strings of the violin. When it was over, they said nothing; just let the notes sink into their very skin.
Hermione and Ron had to run to catch up with Harry as he left Jordan's room. He wore a panicked expression. Jordan hadn't come to the Pitch and now wasn't even where he thought she should be.
"I'm sure she's fine, mate!" Ron said, out of breath. "Can you catch me a break, Harry? You just put me through the paces during practice!"
Harry slowed as he reached the stairs. "Sorry…I just want to make sure she's alright. She never came to the pitch today."
"Oh, can you hear that? It's beautiful!" Hermione cocked her head toward the sound of the gramophone. The melody was echoing off the stillness of the castle walls and it was truly breathtaking. "That's Professor Lupin's office, right?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other, thinking the noise was worth taking a nap for and that's about all. But they both followed Hermione toward the door. He reached the entrance and stopped, short; Ron nearly bumped into him. Standing inches from each other were Lupin and Jordan. He was showing her something, on a parchment and she was watching him intently, staring at him like…like…
Ron and Hermione said nothing, could see the anger in his eyes and the tension in his fists. They looked at each other and backed away before they intruded more than they should.
Jordan looked at the doorway. She smiled, broadly, "Hello, Harry!"
"Harry!" Lupin said, straightening up. "How was your practice?"
"Fine, thanks. Why weren't you there?" He asked Jordan.
"I-um, I needed to get some work done."
"In here?"
Remus Lupin suppressed a smile and put his hands in his pockets. Jordan saw where the conversation was going and excused herself. "Thanks again for the music lesson, Professor."
"My pleasure, Jordan. It's nice to talk with someone who has the same interests."
Jordan left quickly, her own anger rising. She knew Harry was behind her, but refused to say anything, even turn around.
Harry followed her back into her rooms. "I asked you a question."
She glared at him, "Excuse me?"
"Why were you in there with him—if you had so much work to do?"
"Harry…"
"Well?"
"I was taking a break." She gestured to the books open on her desk, and the parchment half full of symbols, "See?"
"You told me you'd come watch Quidditch practice."
"It's freezing outside. I didn't want to sit there all afternoon. I'll come to the game."
Harry turned to her, slowly, knowing he had to ask her, "Jordan, is there—someone else?"
"What?"
"Have you—are you seeing someone else?"
She wanted to say she wasn't even seeing him, but knew that wouldn't be smart. Besides, her actions with him at her mother's might as well have constituted dating him. Saying otherwise would just be mean.
The silence cut him like the Sectumsempra spell. "Is it Lupin?"
"What?" she asked again.
"Are you seeing Professor---?"
"I heard you, Harry. You'd better go."
"Jordan, I'm sorry. It's just things have been weird between us and I don't understand…"
Jordan didn't want to talk about it. She'd only been there a week and things were already awkward. "Look, Harry. We'll go to Hogsmeade next weekend, okay, and I said I'd go to your game. I've really got to get my homework done."
He knew it was time to concede, "Right…"
"I'll talk to you, later," Jordan walked toward the door.
Harry had no choice but to follow.