With a Little Help from My Friends ~ by Lucy Lupin

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Author's Note: My apologies for taking so long to get this up! I just got very busy with university, then got sick, yadda yadda…I thought this would happen and considered spacing out the chapters I wrote during my holidays so that I only put up one a week. I decided against this because I thought it was counterproductive to withhold chapters I had already completed. Why keep them to myself when you could be reading them? And then I wouldn't really be fulfilling my responsibility of getting them up as soon as possible…well, there were many different reasons why I chose not to do this.

Disclaimer: "Lovely Rita" is owned by the Beatles, not me. Rita Skeeter is owned by J K Rowling. I see no reason to alter this.

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Chapter Nine: Lovely Rita

The prefects grouped around the reserved room next to the library sat silently, every now and then sending curious looks at each other as if to reveal the reason behind this emergency meeting. Only Zachary and Veronica did not seem to share everyone else's unrest; Zachary meeting the eyes of anyone who looked at him with a stoical stare, Veronica gazing down at her lap with her hands under her legs. A few times the Hufflepuff prefect, William Zjablomej, tried to catch her eye. If she had noticed his attempts, she didn't let on.

It was many minutes after the appointed six o'clock time that Arthur and Molly entered, both looking strained and flustered. It was Arthur who chose to make the announcement. "You may very well be wondering why Molly and I chose to call you here on a Saturday afternoon," he said tiredly, removing his glasses and polishing them absently on a corner of his robes. "I will not keep you in suspense any longer. A student's parent has unfortunately passed away this afternoon under unforeseen circumstances."

The atmosphere in the room stilled and the Ravenclaw pair, Cordelia Sinistra and Sylvian Davies, shared looks. "If you don't mind my asking, Arthur," Sylvian spoke up, "who was the student?"

Arthur paused and rubbed his eyes, surveying the prefects hollowly. He was about to reply, but it was Zachary who spoke up. "Lucille Black."

The sixth years, who shared classes with Lucille, gasped. Flora Sprout's eyes began to water. Blair Zabini folded his arms and allowed his eyes to drift vaguely to the right in an I'm-trying-not-to-care pose. "Lucille Black is a Gryffindor, and as such Professor Dumbledore has taken her under his care," Diana continued huskily. "She will stay with her relatives in France until she decides that she is able to return to class. While she will not be rushed in this decision, having just completed her OWLs and with her NEWTs coming up next year, this is an important time academically for Lucille. We are therefore concerned that she may get too far behind in her studies. In the meantime she will need people to owl her assignments and notes to keep her relatively up to speed."

"I'll send her my Potions notes," Georgina Flint, surprisingly, volunteered.

"I can help her with Astronomy," Cordelia added. "That's my strongest subject." Diana drew out a piece of parchment and started scrawling out a list.

"I can do Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms," Sylvian offered.

"And Diana and I can take care of everything else," Arthur said. "Thank you, Georgina, Cordelia and Sylvian. I will write to Lucille and let her know what is happening."

"How did she die?" Zabini flung this question casually aside, but no one was fooled. "And how did you know, Lupin?"

"I didn't strange her, if that's what you're suggesting," Zachary said heatedly.

"Zachary, no one is suggesting any such thing," Diana cut in curtly. "Blair, need I remind you that there has been a death of someone associated with the school, and that some of the students here may have known Elodie Black personally?" Zabini rose to his feet and bowed. Diana looked satisfied. "Molly Morag discovered Mrs Black dead when she made a house call shortly before lunch. Zachary was the first person she encountered when she left the house seeking Sirius Black, who was playing at his friend James at the Potter residence."

"Sirius Black and James Potter?" Zabini stroked his chin thoughtfully. "My cousins have told me a fair bit about those two."

"As the occasion may suggest, Blair, this is no time to bring up past grudges," Diana told him icily. "There will be a memorial service held tomorrow evening for anyone who wishes to attend-"

"What about Sirius?" Flora sniffed loudly.

Diana turned to Flora with an almost kindly look. "Sirius will be staying with the Potters until his father is able to resume his care-taking duties," she replied. "Until the remainder of the school is told of this grievous news at supper tonight, I would thank everyone in this room to keep their mouths shut and exercise tact and sympathy when dealing with those who may be personally affected by this."

One undoubtedly "affected by this" was Veronica. When she had arrived back from a raucous afternoon of Blind Man's Buff with some younger students - cheeks flushed and completely unaware that her good mood was about to be spoiled - Diana had cornered her in their dormitory. She had sat numbly, oblivious even to the reassuring rub of Diana's hand on her back, until it was time to go to the meeting. The last she and Molly had seen of their friend was a stunned Lucille being ushered through the common room by their house head, no doubt to be portkeyed to her relatives' place. She had expected to see the younger girl's face twisted with grief but Lucille's expression was strangely blank. That was what frightened her more than anything.

"Diana and I considered abolishing the Assassins game," Arthur spoke up, "but Lucille's friends, myself included, were of the opinion that Lucille would want us to carry on as normal as possible in her absence. So the game continues."

"Drat," muttered Zabini. Zachary, who was sitting next to him, shot him a black look.

"We have, however, altered the Assassination charm so that when someone is eliminated, rather than "Dead" their parchment will now read, "Out"," Arthur, who fortunately had not heard Zabini's comment, continued. "We felt that to leave that part of the charm as it was would be in poor taste."

"Then it would be very keeping with the Gryffindor ethos," Zabini continued to mutter. Zachary pulled his wand out of his pocket and began to stroke it threateningly.

"Now, the status of the game," Arthur said, blissfully unaware of Zabini's snark. "It has been in operation for approximately twenty hours and there has already been one death - er, one elimination."

"Who was it? A Hufflepuff?" Georgina asked scathingly. Veronica sunk lower in her chair. William scowled.

"The rules of the game do not force eliminated participants to reveal themselves," Diana said quickly. "It is part of the mystery not knowing who is still active and who isn't. However, if eliminated participants choose to reveal their death to others, they may do so." Arthur noticed that Veronica was being very careful not to look at Will, the young Hufflepuff prefect. His intelligent sapphire eyes narrowed in speculation. Something was up there.

"Well, that isn't particularly interesting," Georgina continued. "I mean, if we don't know who's dead, how will we know who to tease?"

"Good point," Arthur conceded cheerfully. "Although I do not do it with the malice some others may apply-" (Georgina flushed) "-I appreciate a good ribbing session myself. Assassins is divided into four rounds, with the names of the victims and the time and place that they were killed revealed at the end of each round."

"Wonder who was the first to die?" Sylvian sniggered.

Veronica looked embarrassed, the Hufflepuff prefect guilty. Arthur frowned. What had gone on there?

"The next item on the agenda," Diana said, rising to her feet with just a hint of enough of all this Assassins clap-trap in her voice, "is the up-coming Halloween feast. This year we will have our usual dinner in the Great Hall at six o'clock with all the younger students. However, at nine o'clock the hall will be re-opened for the first ever Hogwarts Halloween Ball."

There was an excited cry from Flora Sprout, who half-rose off her chair and clapped her hands. Diana gave her a disdainful look before continuing. "The Halloween ball will be for students from the fifth year upwards. However, younger students are able to attend if asked to accompany a senior student." Flora started giggling. "Unlike the feast, which you are to attend in uniforms, the ball will be costume-themed," A disapproving twitch had started to appear in one of Diana's cheeks. "You may attend in any costume you so choose, and at midnight a prize will be given out for the best-dressed pair, best being a relative term."

By the end of her talk Diana was looking decidedly grim. Her reaction was quite the opposite of the rest of the room's occupants. Flora was still giggling. Cordelia Sinistra was blushing. Zachary was watching Cordelia's reaction carefully. Even Veronica was looking interested. "Can we take someone from another house?" Georgina Flint asked. Zabini shot her an outraged look. "I mean - I mean," she stammered quickly, "I have a friend who might want to ask a Ravenclaw. I was asking for her benefit."

"Sure you were," Zabini smirked.

"Yeah? Well unlike you, I do have friends," Georgina shot back angrily.

Arthur rose to his feet and held up one hand. All appearances were on him stopping the pair's bickering, but they weren't to know that he was secretly fighting back a smile. "Your friend may invite someone from another house," he told Georgina, who shot Zabini a triumphant look. "In fact, as this is one of the few events in which we can participate with students from other houses rather than against them, I actively encourage it. If no one has anything further to add, then you are all dismissed."

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Veronica strode angrily through the halls, the cloak Diana had thrown over her shoulders flapping behind her. She couldn't believe how casually the head girl and boy had mentioned Assassins and the Halloween Ball afterwards, as if the death of Lucille's mother was nothing more than a fleeting news bulletin, one more item to cross out on the "to do" list. Surely they realised the occasion merited more than this!

Her quick footsteps had taken her away from the rest of the prefects and an empty classroom to her left beckoned. Without a conscious decision to enter the room, she found herself seated at a desk inside, her head between her hands and her shoulders shaking with the force of sobs that still would not come. Even now, her eyes remained dry.

"Veronica Vector?"

Veronica raised her head to meet the intruder. Her eyes narrowed into hostile black slits.

Rita Skeeter was a fourth year Slytherin and truly revelled in their reputation. While Veronica felt a grudging respect for Blair Zabini and at times almost liked Georgina Flint, Rita was one of the few of the green and silver house that she genuinely loathed. Cowardly and cunning beyond measure, Rita was the editor of The Seer, the gossip column in the fortnightly student publication The Hogwarts Herald. Many friendships had been shattered beyond repair by what had been written there. In light of both recent happenings and her friendship with one of the afflicted party, Veronica therefore treated Rita's entrance with the utmost trepidation.

"Ah, it is you, Veronica," Rita said, her pencilled eyebrows raising with interest. Veronica stood and returned a cool nod of acknowledgement. "How lovely to see you again. My, aren't you nice and brown? I recently read in Mod Mage that tans were out of style, but what do they know?"

"It's easy to often find yourself outdoors when you have a life of your own," Veronica said pointedly.

Rita's eyes darkened and she took a step back, but an instant later she had resumed her mask of compassion. "But Veronica, dear, your face is all flushed, and, my dear girl, why, you are trembling! Whatever can the matter be?"

"I just met with Finch and he told me that in spite of me sleeping with him, he was still going to fail me in Potions," Veronica said dryly.

Rita's mouth thinned; this was not what she wanted to hear. "Oh, but Veronica, dear, I know why you jest," she said quickly. "The news is still too fresh, too grievous for you to

attend to. A little bug - I mean, bird - told me that a relative of your dear friend Lucille Black had unfortunately passed away. Her mother, I believe?"

In spite of herself Veronica inhaled sharply and clutched the edge of the desk. A brief look of glee crossed Rita's face. "If you had known why I was upset," Veronica said, her voice quaking in her effort to maintain control, "I don't see why you should keep it to yourself until now, unless to trick me into revealing something that you did not know."

"But why would I do that?" Rita asked piteously. "You hurt me with your baseless accusations."

"Baseless?" If Veronica's cheeks were "flushed" before, now they were positively inferno. "How can you stand before someone who only needs to read but one of your columns and say that their accusations are baseless? You must think that I'm stupid to talk to me like that!"

Rita now made no effort to hide her anger. "Really," she began, the jowls beneath her massive chin quivering with anger, "I know you are upset about the loss of your friend's mother, but that is no excuse to take it out on me! But I forgive you, especially considering that her last days would not have been pleasant in the knowledge of her husband's liaison."

Veronica turned pale. "What did you say?"

"Oh, poor Lucille, how it must vex her!" Rita cried. Her hands were clasped to her bosom but her eyes were twinkling with mischief. "Her father, who we all thought of as being so well-bred and high in his principles, has been conducting an affair with the sister of a man in his office for the past year. My Merlin," her eyes widened and her hand clapped itself over her mouth in shock, "you didn't know, did you? Oh, how I hate to be the bearer of such awful news-"

"Don't you lie to me!" Veronica screamed, white and shaking with rage. "Get out, Rita, get out!"

"Rita, I'll thank you to mind your own business," someone said.

Veronica sank bonelessly onto a chair. William was standing by the door, glowering down at Rita. She wondered how he had came to be here, and how much he had overheard.

"But I don't ask for your thanks," Rita said sweetly, fluttering her spider-like eyelashes at him.

William grimaced. "Well, you have it all the same," he said. "Now please leave." With one hand he held the door open while with the other he gestured for Rita to go through it in a very gentlemanly manner, but the Slytherin was not fooled into her apparent choice of leaving the room. She swallowed and ducked past William with her head lowered.

The instant William was sure that Rita was well away, he crossed the room and pulled Veronica to her feet. "Pay no attention to her," he said.

"She's-she's," tears spilled over the rims of Veronica's eyes, "awful!"

William held her as she sobbed. Soon the shoulder of his t-shirt was wet with tears. Veronica, for her part, while wounded by what Rita had said, could not fail to notice how warm and firm that shoulder felt, and how nice it was to be held by someone taller than her, tall enough to allow her to put her head upon his shoulder. And as both her sobs and her grief receded, her awareness of this and other things about William grew. Presently her tears stopped, but her head remained on his shoulder.

William gently pushed her head back and looked down at her. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, and kissed him.

Initially William kept his lips still and closed. Seconds ago she had been crying her eyes out on his shoulder, and he didn't want to impose. But when it became clear that she would neither push him nor pull away, he opened his mouth and their tongues clashed together. Veronica's hand came up his back to slide underneath the loose blond curls at the nape of his neck. He could feel the wire of her bra pressing against his chest.

"Wow," Veronica beamed when they finally drew apart, "that was an interesting variance on the hugs my mother gives me. I must say I approve of your comforting methods over hers. A cup of tea only goes so far."

"Don't tease," William ordered, playfully tapping her on the tip of her nose.

Veronica gave him a mischievous look. "We should really do that again sometime," she said brightly, as if she was a houseguest who had just dropped by for the aforementioned cup of tea.

"Is there anything I can do to shut you up?" William asked, tilting his head to one side and giving her a pained look.

Veronica pulled him closer. "I have a few ideas."

In the passageway outside, a certain head boy smiled to himself, then averted his eyes and continued on his way.

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