Thank you all so much for reading and for your positive support. This is quite the story to write, but I hope I am keeping it interesting. Please continue to read and review. It's the highlight of my day.:) As always, thanks to Vaughn for being such a great beta.

Alayneni – yeah, I feel really bad for doing all this to Julian, but I told him he would have a hard time when he signed up for this part, so he has no one to blame but himself. Well, maybe me just a little bit.

Ron ducked as another Bludger flew at him, temper rising as he saw his sister smirk at him before responding to Warren's inquiry. This was the fourth time this practice she "had an oops" and hit the heavy ball at him. She said she was just practicing her moves for the next game with Slytherin. Bloody hell. He couldn't believe Warren was falling for it.

He had no idea what was up with her. Ever since that day in the Great Hall, she behaved as if everything he did was a personal affront to her. It wasn't his fault she had a falling out with her boyfriend. Less than a week had gone by since, and not only was she abusing him, she still refused to tell him what happened. He was really confused. They seemed to be getting along so well, but then something occurred to turn Ginny into a harpy and Julian into a ponce. How could he call himself a man if he acted like that?

Hermione was quick to stop her best friend from interfering in his sister's problems, and had assured him it was not the result of some dastardly deed by the princely Gryffindor. Not that it stopped him from glaring suspiciously at the boy. He could not help but wonder what happened. Unfortunately, no one would tell him anything. Julian was moping about the school, tragically depressed with the half the girls in Hogwarts chasing after him in hopes of raising his spirits. All of them wanted to comfort him, even the Slytherins (ew), but from what Ron could see Julian was simply not interested. His sister, on the other hand, just seemed to be in a constant fit of temper.

"BUGGER! GINNY, STOP IT!" Ron barely avoided the Quaffle, this time, as it made a beeline for his head. What the bloody hell was she doing?

"TIME OUT!" Warren gestured for everyone to join him on the ground. Once everyone settled, his eyes raked across the team, coming to settle on Ron.

Wonderful.

"This has got to be the worst practice I've ever had the displeasure of seeing. Where is the team that defeated Slytherin not a month ago? What happened to the players that ground Ravenclaw into dust? At this rate we won't be able to win against Hufflepuff, much less anyone else!" He began to pace. "Ron, what is wrong with you today? You haven't caught the Quaffle yet and have been far too skittish about the Bludgers. Do you honestly think the Slytherins won't be trying to knock you off your broom? You're better than this. I've seen you stop some very difficult shots. I want that back. We need you to be at your best."

Ron glowered.

"Harry, I think you need to be a bit more proactive in finding the Snitch. The last few times have been a bit too close for comfort. I know those eagle eyes of yours can do better."

Harry frowned, but nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Ginny. You're a Chaser not a Beater. I agree that your brother needs practice dodging Bludgers, but you need to continue practicing putting the Quaffle through the goal. Maybe the two of you should face off and do some extra practice while the rest of us go to the other end and continue our regular drills. Jack, why don't you join them and make it challenging?"

Ron rolled his eyes while his sister smirked. Bloody hell. He was in for it now. Ginny was going to be doing her best to humiliate him with the Quaffle, and Jack was probably going to take a great deal of pleasure in trying to knock him off his broom. Thank Merlin Hermione was watching. At least she knew the spell to slow his fall.

Warren continued his motivational speech for a few minutes more, pinpointing more weaknesses and offering suggestions on how to compensate. Moments later, they were in the air, and Ron's torment had begun.

Hermione was sitting in the bleachers studying like she usually did while Ron, Ginny, and Harry were at Quidditch practice. If she were honest with herself, she would admit it was mostly due to her desire to watch Harry fly. She glanced up. He was so graceful in the air. If there was one thing Harry did like a natural, besides surviving Voldemort, it was flying. She loved to watch him like this. When he was in the sky, he was free of his many burdens. The smile on his face was joyous and it was all she could do not to wave at him to get his attention hoping to turn that regard to her. No, she thought. He was focused on Quidditch, right now, and she had no desire to interrupt. This was his time.

Hermione started when she heard the sound of someone stomping up the stairs to the Gryffindor section of the stands. Rarely did anyone else come out here to watch, and she was typically the only one from her house. Her eyebrow arched as she saw it was Julian. He paused when he noticed her, but then moved to join her at the welcoming gesture. It saddened her to see the hollow look in his eyes as he gazed at her.

"Hello, Julian."

"Good afternoon, Hermione."

"How are you doing?" As soon as she said it, Hermione regretted her words.

He snorted. "As well as can be expected, I suppose."

"I… I'm sorry, Julian. I…"

"No, Hermione. There is no need for you to be sorry. You are merely being a concerned friend." He flashed her a small smile. "I appreciate that."

"Especially since I'm not flinging myself at you in hopes of comforting you."

"Ugh. Indeed. Although I imagine it might be rather entertaining to be chased around the castle by Harry for a few days."

She laughed. "I think the hexes might make it a sight more entertaining than you might want."

The atmosphere between them relaxed.

"So… what brings you out here?"

"The same as you, I would imagine. I am merely watching our team practice."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Do you play Quidditch?"

"No, I'm afraid not. But I've always wanted to."

"Why didn't you try out for the team?"

"Seeing as our major opponent is the Slytherin team, I highly doubt Warren would have been willing to take that big of a gamble."

"Well then, I guess you'll just have to play one of the Weasley games."

He looked at her, startled. "What do you mean?"

"Aren't you… oh, bugger. I'm sorry, Julian. I wasn't thinking… again… I thought…"

"I do not think my presence would be welcome at the Weasleys, Hermione, but I thank you for thinking of me."

"Julian… uh… I think you'd be surprised. Ginny… well… she really regrets what happened the other day. I don't think she was herself…" Her voice faded away as she noticed the anger in his eyes. "Er…"

"Surprised would be the least of my reactions."

"It was foolish of her, Julian, to talk with you that way…"

He interrupted. "'Fools live to regret their words; wise men to regret their silence.'"

"Will Henry."

He nodded. "I do not know if I am a wise man or a fool, Hermione, but I know that I have many regrets – the primary one being how I handled my relationship with Ginny."

Hermione reached out and took his hand.

"I was always taught for as long as I can remember that above all, one must be a gentleman. A gentleman holds the door for a lady. A gentleman pulls out her chair, brings her flowers, treats her like a princess. But a true gentleman never troubles a lady with his doubts and fears." He sighed. "I thought it the better part of valor to behave as a gentleman, rather than confess to Ginny that I was unsure how to act around her. I suppose I erred in my judgment."

"Oh Julian. I'm so sorry. Ginny's… well… she's always been very down to earth, and I think the fact that you never seemed to have any doubts or troubles bothered her. It made her feel inadequate."

He looked up to a speck in the sky. "How could she possibly feel inadequate? She is… perfect." His gaze returned to Hermione. "Even in her flaws she is perfect."

Hermione glanced at the book in her lap. She really wanted to tell him her doubts. She began again. "Uh, Julian…"

"Yes?"

"I… don't get angry. You need to hear this." He gazed at her curiously. "I… I'm not sure Ginny was being herself that day."

"So you said. What do you mean?"

She held up her book – Make Friends and Influence People: 101 Ways to Manipulate People with Magic. "I think I found something in here that might explain her behaviour last week."

He looked interested.

"It's an odd spell, really. Very minor. So much so that it wouldn't trigger the wards at the school. It's like a prank, but when used correctly, can be very devastating."

"Which spell?"

"The Tempero Charm."

"Which is…"

"A spell that causes the victim to be rash and prone to losing their temper."

"So essentially it makes a person do things they ordinarily would not do, but nothing against their will."

"I'm afraid not. But it does impair their judgment." She frowned. "I guess it's a bit like alcohol. Short lived and… wait. I don't see how it could… unless…"

"Could what?"

"I don't see how it could have affected her so severely, unless…"

"Hermione, I admire you, respect you, and consider you a friend, but I am beginning to experience the desire to strangle you."

"Oh! Sorry. No, I was just thinking out loud. Did you notice anything odd before her blow up last week?"

"You mean aside from the fact that she was increasingly foul tempered as it progressed?"

"Well, that's a big one. No, I mean did you see anyone around with a wand?"

"We are in a school full of witches and wizards, Hermione. Of course I did."

"Pointed at her?"

"Pointed at… wait, you think someone cast this spell on her?"

"Not just cast. Kept casting. If the spell was cast every twelve hours for five days, it could certainly explain her loss of temper with you."

"Or she could merely have been fed up with my so-called perfection and nobility."

Hermione winced at the bitterness in his voice.

"Julian, I…"

"It is of no import, Hermione. I thank you for your efforts, but I do not believe it will change things even if it is true. The spell merely releases the restraints on one's emotions. Despite everything, she still felt that way. It was simply a matter of time and circumstances."

Hermione sighed. "I… I suppose you're right. I just…"

He squeezed her hand. "You're a wonderful person, Hermione, and I know you wish to help. Perhaps your efforts might be better turned to something a bit closer. I do not think that Harry realizes the mistake he is making."

Julian turned away before she could say anything, but she caught a glimpse of his sorrowful tears. He removed his hand from hers, and silently left the stands, leaving her to stare despondently after him. It was only after he was gone that she realized practice had ended and the sky was empty.

Bugger. Not only did she miss Harry leaving the field, but she was unable to help Ginny and Julian resolve their difficulties. What was it about this secret admirer that she liked so much more than her former boyfriend? Why did Ginny let her think it was Julian? Why did he, for that matter? There was something truly odd about this situation. Hermione stood up to leave when a shadow fell across her face. She looked up into the smiling countenance of Harry Potter.

"Hey, 'Mione."

"Harry! What are you doing up there?"

His green eyes sparkled impishly. "Hoping to talk a beautiful woman into taking a ride on my broomstick."

Hermione blushed furiously. "Uh…"

"I'd like to show you something."

An imp of the perverse possessed her and she tossed him a smirk. "Really? Does it involve your broom… stick?"

Harry gaped at her, shocked. "Er…"

Her peals of laughter echoed off the stands. "I'm just kidding, Harry. Honestly! What do you want to show me?"

Now Harry was blushing. "Uh… just… something." He reached out his hand to her. "Come on, 'Mione. Hop on."

"Harry, you know I…"

"Please, 'Mione," he wheedled. "Please come with me. I promise you'll be fine."

In the five years she had known him, there had never been a time when she could remember refusing him – especially when he used that tone. Before she knew it, Hermione had clambered up on to one of the benches and let Harry pull her on to his Firebolt. They were off in a flash.

"HARRY!" She anxiously gripped his waist tighter.

"Don't worry, 'Mione! It's okay. We're not going that fast!" One bonus Harry had not counted on was the feeling of Hermione pressed up against him as she held him in a crushing grip. If she were not so afraid, he would take her flying for hours just for the pleasurable warmth of her body against his. Voldemort really needs to die, he thought. Then he could be with her in the way he wanted.

They landed on a small cliff located halfway up the nearby mountain overlooking Hogwarts. The school could be seen in the distance as a gathering of twinkling lights and tall shadows. It was dusk, now, shortly before dinner, and Hermione found herself nervous about being so far from the castle with Death Eaters on the loose.

"Dumbledore cast protective spells over the area for me, 'Mione. Don't worry. If anything happens, hold on to me and we'll be transported away." He grinned at her confused look. "Have a seat and I'll explain. This is a great place to watch the sun set."

Hermione joined Harry on a narrow outcropping near the edge of the cliff. Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she took his hand and sat next to him. She relaxed when he put his arm around her. "After Sirius died, I was rather… upset to say the least. Dumbledore felt terrible, and after I regained my senses, we talked about the things that had made me so angry and frustrated throughout the year."

She squeezed his hand and snuggled a little closer to him. "I'm glad, Harry. I was really concerned that you would never work things out with the headmaster."

"It helped that he was so willing to consider some of my requests. Like this. Bill told me about this place during the summer and I was able to talk Headmaster Dumbledore into making it in to a protected refuge for me." He chuckled. "You should have heard Snape. He was royally pissed off. 'How can you give Potter everything he wants' and all that rubbish."

"Why did he tell Snape?"

"So he could cast some of the wards on this area. He's really good at protective magic, from what I understand."

"According to his records, he probably really would make a great Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He got some of the highest NEWTs in the history of Hogwarts in that and Potions."

"Well isn't that nice. 'Mione, I really don't want Snape, of all people, teaching me how to defend myself against dark spells."

"Why not? He seems really familiar with dark magic, Harry. I think he'd do a really good job."

"Yeah, by hexing us and letting you figure out how to fix it."

Hermione laughed. "True. His teaching methods do leave something to be desired."

"Besides, I like our current professor."

"So to I, Harry. Does anyone else know about this?"

He shook his head. "I make sure to Disillusion myself before heading out this way. No one's seen me so far, and hopefully we can keep it that way. Dumbledore said I would have to stop coming here if anyone but you and Ron found out about this place."

"Why didn't you tell Ron?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Hermione, he's being a rather large prat this year. I'd really like to have at least one place I can relax." Hermione reached over to squeeze him. "Okay. Make that two."

Even in the dim light he could see her blush. He leaned over. "I love you, 'Mione."

Smiling brilliantly, Hermione shifted herself closer to Harry, and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He was surprised at first, but then enthusiastically responded. By the time they separated, Hermione was in his lap and they were both breathless. He was enraptured by the sparkle in her eyes.

"I love you too, Harry. No matter what."

"'Mione… I wish…"

She touched her fingers to his lips. "I know, Harry. I'll wait for you. I promise."

Harry reached out to gently run his fingers through her wild hair. Despite all its bushiness, it was soft as silk and he reveled in the peaceful feeling it brought him just to be here with her, tenderly showing his affections. He loved her, and he hated to see the shadows of pain in her eyes every time he looked at her. Warmth spread through him as she snuggled closer, shifting herself farther into his arms. The two of them stayed in that position for some time, until Harry saw the flash of sparks over the castle. It was time to go inside.

"Hermione," he whispered.

"Yes, love?"

He smiled, gently kissing her temple. "We have to go in now."

With a sigh, she pulled away from him. "Too bad", she pouted.

"We'll do this again, love. I promise."

Her face turned mock-stern. "I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Potter."

Feeling rushed back into his legs as she stood. Perhaps holding her in his lap for over an hour was less than wise. Looking at her, he mentally shook his head. No. He could never regret this. Even as he stood up and lost his balance.

"Harry!"

Hermione grabbed at him, hoping to prevent his fall. Unfortunately, she apparently forgot that he was more than six inches taller and outweighed her by a fair bit. As she wrapped her arms around his firm, muscular torso, the thought that Quidditch was very good for him if it kept him so toned.

Then he fell on her.

""Mione!" Harry and Hermione fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. He was on top of her, not that she minded, and was slightly stunned by their impact with the ground. When he looked up to see if she was okay, he found himself lost in her dark amber eyes.

"'Mione…" he whispered.

"Harry…" She gently pushed his hair out of his eyes, losing herself in an emerald sea of emotion.

Unable to stop himself, Harry lowered his face to hers and gently kissed her. He felt her hands snake up his back into his hair, pulling him closer as she opened her mouth to him. Harry forgot completely about the world around them, absorbed only in the beautiful witch beneath him. His body began to respond to her proximity, causing him to kiss her frantically, his passion igniting hers. Hermione's tongue dueled his, each heated caress bringing them closer to losing control. It was when she wrapped her legs around him that the warning bells sounded and he wrenched himself back to reality.

Panting, he pulled away. Reluctantly. Very reluctantly.

Hermione's eyes were glazed with passion and she too was breathing quickly, her lips puffy and red from his kisses. She looked delightfully mussed with her hair spread around her like a halo of bronze.

"We… we need to get back to the castle."

She nodded, unable to speak.

Carefully, this time, he stood up, and then held his hand out to her.

"Thank you," she said softly. Somehow he knew she was not talking about his helping her stand.

"Come on, love, let's go home."

Brown eyes met green and she smiled. "I am home, Harry, as long as I'm with you."

Harry's heart was full when they returned to the school, and it was all he could do to stop himself from running through the halls, screaming out his love for the beautiful witch at his side. Instead, he settled for holding her hand.

Shortly before they went inside the tower, Harry gently kissed her cheek. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too."

"After you," he said with a bow.

Harry was unsurprised to see Ron in the common room, waiting for them. He looked very upset, and he felt somewhat guilty for abandoning his friend at Quidditch practice. Ginny was nowhere in sight, nor was anyone else. Uh oh.

Hermione failed to notice Ron's glare as she skipped upstairs to get her books. She was smiling and happy for a change, a fact that did not escape their ginger-haired friend.

"So," began Ron once Hermione was out of sight, "where have you two been?"

Harry frowned, annoyed at the inquisition. "Out."

His curt response only served to anger the Gryffindor further. "Out? What the hell does that mean, Harry?"

"It means that Hermione and I were out, Ron. As in out somewhere that is not your business."

The freckled face darkened further. "Not my business? In case you forget, Harry, she's my best friend too! I deserve to know what you two have been up to."

"Ron…" Harry began warningly.

"Oh shut it, Harry. It's not enough that you're putting her in danger with your antics. You have to keep secrets between us as well. Am I no longer welcome in your little group of friends as well? Is 'the Weasel' on the outs with the great Harry Potter?"

Harry stared at his friend, shocked. Where did all this come from, he wondered. "What do you mean, Ron? On the outs? Bloody hell, you'd think I was shagging your girlfriend or something by the way you're behaving."

Ron glared at him. "Is that where you were? Shagging Hermione? I thought you had better judgment than that, Harry."

Fire burned in Harry's eyes at the accusation. "Even if we were, Ron, it's none of your business."

"Rubbish! It is my business. In case you forgot, I'm the one that liked her in the first place! You only noticed her because I did!"

Harry interrupted. "I noticed her, Ron, because she is extraordinary. Not only is she intelligent, but she is beautiful, talented, and the most amazing woman I've ever met. You had nothing to do with that. In fact, had I listened to what you were saying, I imagine my opinion would be very different considering how you talk about her."

"I thought you wanted to protect her," Ron accused.

"I do." Harry sighed. "Look, Ron, I know I can't be with her the way I want to – as her boyfriend. But I can't live without being with her in some fashion. She's as vital to me as breathing. Can you truly begrudge us a small bit of time together? It's all we can have right now."

"And her safety? What about that? How do you know no one saw you?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore made sure we were hidden and protected." He gripped Ron's arm. "I promise I took every precaution to keep her safe. I know you worry, but…"

Ron sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I know, Harry. I… I'm sorry. I just…"

"You worry. I know. I love her too, Ron. I'm not going to let anything happen to her. Not as long as I live."

"Just… be careful, Harry."

Harry smiled at his friend, happy now that everything was okay again. He doubted this would be the last he would hear from Ron on this subject, but for now, at least, things were back to normal.

"Oy, where's 'Mione? Is she writing the books her self?"

Ginny came bouncing down the stairs. "No, Ronald, we're coming now." Hermione followed quietly behind her. Harry caught her eyes, and he knew by the look in them that she heard everything. He gave her a tentative smile.

"I'll wait until I graduate to start writing textbooks, Ron. That way you might be capable of passing our classes."

Ron winced. "Ouch, 'Mione, that hurt."

"No kidding, mate."

"It was meant to, Ron, and don't call me that!" Hermione sat down and pulled out her master scheduler. Ignoring the groans, she reminded them of the upcoming NEWTS and the tests they had in Transfiguration and Potions. Resigning themselves to a night of hard studying, the group settled down and focused on their bushy-haired taskmaster.

It was going to be a long night.

Several days later, there was a meeting at the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. It was near the end of November, shortly before the holiday season. It was an exciting time for the Gryffindor Trio and Ron's sister. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were to be there, against Molly's objections, since they were all very much involved in what was going on. This was their first meeting as provisional members of the Order, and it was all they could do to wait until the evening. Hermione was slightly upset by the fact that they were given detention with McGonagall to cover their absence, but even she could not help but be thrilled at their new status. Shortly after dinner, which was sparse thanks to the promise of a meal by Molly Weasley, the four students portkeyed to Sirius' house for the meeting.

The Black Family Manor was still headquarters, to Severus Snape's unending irritation. Fortunately, the Order did not meet often, but when they did, he felt like hexing everyone in sight. He hated being in that drooling canine's house. It was almost too bad the former Gryffindor left it to Dumbledore. The house was the safest place outside of Hogwarts, however, and it certainly beat having Narcissa or Bellatrix inherit it.

Severus sighed as he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer it. He refused simply to walk in like most of the other members. He never felt welcome here.

The door opened, and Arthur Weasley motioned for him to come in. "Come in, Severus. Come in. We're just getting ready to get started. Fine timing, I must say."

"Thank you, Arthur." He would have used a word other than 'fine'.

"The gang's all here and in the dining room, and dinner is ready so you shouldn't have to wait too long for the meeting to begin."

"One can hope."

Severus stalked inside, displeased he had misjudged the timing. Once again, it appeared he arrived too early to avoid the gratuitous meal Molly insisted on feeding the group. She would no doubt flutter about as she always did, trying to encourage him to join them. Not bloody likely, he thought.

Snape entered the dining room to find the group already seated. The heavy scent of food filled the air and he could see everyone already had a full plate. Arthur went over to join his wife at the end of the table. Nearby sat their sons Bill, Charlie, and Ron. He frowned at the Gryffindor Prefect's presence, and then his expression darkened further when he saw Harry Potter seated next to Ryselle. They were chatting about something she seemed to find amusing. His eyes glinted. The boy needed to learn respect for his teachers.

Hermione Granger sat next to Potter and was carrying on a conversation with Remus Lupin. He heard the word 'werewolf' mentioned and assumed the nosy Gryffindor was questioning Lupin about his condition. She too needed to learn more respect. Bloody know-it-all. Tonks, Moody, and Dumbledore were conversing near the head of the table, but looked up as he walked in. Dumbledore nodded to him and motioned for him to take a seat. Snape's eyes glided over the table, observing that the rest of the table was nearly filled with other members of the Order. He gave them a polite nod, and then moved to an empty seat. To his annoyance/pleasure, the only available place was next to Professor Spellsinger.

"Good evening, Severus."

Curse that melodious voice of hers. "Good evening, Ryselle. I trust things are well?"

She nodded, flashing him a smile. "Nothing blew up today in class, so I believe that qualifies as well."

"Reading assignment today?"

She laughed. "No. They were practicing the Silver Arrow Hex."

He raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I take it Longbottom and Weasley were absent, then."

She swatted at him playfully, laughing. "Severus! They did fine. You should have more faith in the students."

He rolled his eyes. "When they deserve it, I will."

Headmaster Dumbledore cleared his throat for attention, interrupting Ryselle's response. "Welcome, my friends. Tonight we gather to renew our vow to fight the darkness with all our might. I would like to thank our friends Molly and Tonks for the delicious feast before us. Tuck in!"

Tonight's dinner had been prepared through the joint effors of Tonk and Molly Weasley. Ryselle eyed the food with curiosity, wondering what she was getting herself in to. It was a small pie about the size of her hand, filled with some sort of steaming mixture of gravy, meat, and onions. Molly called it a 'Cornish Pasty' and was very proud of her and Tonks' ability to prepare the food without magic. According to Remus, the Weasley twins challenged them to do it. Ryselle briefly wondered where they were. Glancing around the table, she was pleased to see no one seemed to be suffering for the experience. Taking her courage in hand, she took a small bite of the hot British pie. Ryselle decided it was good, if a bit on the oniony side, and reminded her of American pot pies. She carefully began to nibble away at the rest of the pie, careful not to burn her tongue again.

Odd, she thought. Why was Severus not eating? It seemed strange to her that he was the only one without something on his plate.

"Are you not hungry, Severus?"

"Uh, not particularly, Pr… Ryselle. But thank you."

"It is very good. You should at least try it." She broke off a small piece, failing to notice the grimace on Snape's face or the smirk on Lupin's.

How could he explain to her that he refused to eat in Black's house? She knew of their mutual hostility – somehow he found himself regaling her with a few stories of his sordid past – but even he had to admit it was very one-sided now that the bloody prat was dead. Further explanation would only make him look like a petulant child. He found himself reluctant to ruin her opinion of him. It was a miracle she still spoke with him about finding out he was a Death Eater.

He reluctantly accepted the offering. "Uh… thank you." Hating the fact that he was the center of attention now, he carefully placed the bite in his mouth, hoping to avoid being burned. To his surprise, it was not only cool enough to eat, but actually tasted good.

Bill handed Remus a Knut. "I guess you were right. She really can talk anyone into anything."

Snape frowned at the comment and prepared to dress the two men down when Ryselle interrupted.

"Perhaps you are hungry now?" It was obvious she failed to observe his irritation.

Not wanting to be rude, they were colleagues after all, he fumbled for an excuse, "Uh…"

"Come now, Severus. Surely you do not wish to insult Molly and Tonks by refusing their delicious meal?"

"Uh…"

"That's all right, Ryselle. Severus usually doesn't eat with us. We understand." Thank god Molly was on his side.

Ryselle looked at him curiously. "Really? Why ever not?"

Perhaps it was not so good having Molly as an ally.

"Uh…"

"Severus is usually fairly late, Ryselle. He eats beforehand so he doesn't make us wait."

"Ah. That is very thoughtful. So you have already eaten, Severus?"

The lie felt heavy and wrong on his tongue. "Uh…" He could see the others strain to hear what he would say. One look at her guileless amethyst eyes was all it took. Bloody hell. "No, actually. I have not."

Fortunately, Ryselle had her back to the rest of the table while she spoke with Severus. She missed the looks of total shock on the faces of the others. There was only one thing he could do without spinning for her another long and sordid tale of his miserable past. "I would appreciate one of the pasties, Ryselle, thank you."

Her smile was brilliant like the sun. "My pleasure, Severus." She went into the kitchen to fix his plate for him. Snape did his best to ignore the dumbfounded expressions around the table.

"Is there a problem?" His cold eyes swept the room.

"Of course not, Severus. We were just…uh…"

"Happy."

"Yes, happy that you liked the food." It was obvious that was not what Molly was thinking, but Ryselle was returning, so there was no time to question her.

As she set the plate in front of him, Severus was startled at her soft whisper. "Thank you, Severus. I know this is not easy for you."

He wondered what she knew. Did someone tell her that he refused to eat there? No, was the immediate response. She would never have asked if she knew. Bugger. Obviously she had some form of insight. He had told her things, small things about how the Mauraders treated him. It was very basic information, barely touching on the particulars of his time at Hogwarts. Apparently, she had managed to read between the lines. Was he really that obvious? Was it truly such a big deal that he ate with them? He shook his head ruefully. He would never understand the polite inanities that characterized so-called "civilized society".

Fortunately, dinner was quick and ended without incident. A few flicks of Molly's wand cleared the table and the group prepared for the business of the evening.

"Good evening, my friends." Dumbledore stood up abruptly and paused for quiet. "I must welcome all of you to this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix." He took a deep breath, appearing to hesitate before continuing. Snape could have sworn the headmaster seemed upset. Well, as upset as Dumbledore ever was. "It is unfortunate that I must begin our meeting with some terrible news." That got their undivided attention. "It appears Lucius Malfoy has secured his release from Azkaban."

"WHAT?" Severus leapt to his feet without thinking. "Albus, how is that possible? They caught him dead to rights at the Ministry of Magic! Are they daft?"

The elderly wizard had not even blinked at Snape's reaction. He probably expected it.

"Severus." Ryselle's soft voice cut through his anger. "Severus sit down, let him finish." She tugged lightly on his robes until he resumed his seat.

"I share your distress, Severus, but am unfortunately powerless to do anything about it. Lucius was freed yesterday at the behest of several members of the governorship. We all know what kind of influence he has with them. I am afraid they felt the testimony of a group of 'unruly' students was not sufficient to keep him there."

"What about your testimony, Albus? Surely they don't think you are lying?"

"No, Molly, it is not that. They feel I was not sufficiently aware of the full situation. It was implied that I allowed my prejudices to cloud my judgment. High Inquisitor Umbridge and the former Minister of Magic were very vocal about my dislike of Lucius. Unfortunately, that shifted the vote of the Wizengamot by one in favor of Mr. Malfoy."

Snape leapt to his feet again. "That's absurd! Headmaster, allow me to testify to them how dangerous that man is. If anyone knows about him it is I. He's a Death Eater! Surely they can figure that one out by a simple examination of his left arm."

"Severus, I know you are upset. We all are. But the truth of the matter is that your testimony would be suspect too, and Lucius would still be free. I suspect you would no longer be welcome in Voldemort's ranks after that, however."

The potions master sat down frustrated. "Bloody hell," he muttered. He felt a delicate hand slip into his.

"It will be all right, Severus. There is nothing you can do for now. He will face justice sooner or later." Ryselle gave him a comforting smile.

He frowned. "It's the later I'm worried about. Lucius Malfoy has far too much power in the Wizarding world to leave him free and allied to the Dark Lord."

"Severus." She tugged on his arm until his eyes met hers. "There is nothing you can do. For now. Let it go."

He took a deep breath and counted to ten, all the while gazing into her beautiful, violet eyes. He could drown in them if he was not careful. He looked away.

"Fortunately, Lucius' capture did manage to accomplish several things. First and foremost being Draco Malfoy's inheritance. He is now solely in control of his grandparents' assets, which will reduce Lucius' capabilities rather significantly. The boy has learned to value his independence, which I believe will become important in the future."

"Headmaster, Lucius will still control those assets through young Mr. Malfoy."

"That may be true, Severus, but the process will not be as easy as one might think. I know some people who have that much influence at least. He will find it challenging to make changes."

Snape glowered but remained silent.

Dumbledore continued. "I am sure you have all noticed the presence of someone new in our midst. I'd like to welcome Professor Ryselle Spellsinger, the new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, to the Order. Most of you have met her already, but for those who haven't, Ryselle if you please?"

Ryselle stood up, unknowingly causing a bit of a stir with her holding of the potions professor's hand. "Uh, thank you, Albus. I am pleased to meet all of you." She sat back down.

Severus tossed her a slight smirk and squeezed her hand. "Short and sweet. Perfect."

"Very well. There are several things happening at this point in time. Severus, if you would please update us?"

Ryselle listened intently while Snape gave his report. It was very detailed, but succinct. According to him, Voldemort had recently begun bringing in a large number of old tomes from various locations in the Wizarding world. He was being very secretive about it, trusting only Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange to enter the room where they were stored. He caught a glance of one of the books – Dark Artifacts of the Ages by Malus Blackthorne. Her ears perked up at that. Her grandfather had a copy of it in his library from years ago. She wondered what the evil wizard was looking for. She made a mental note to borrow it and see what she could find.

"I believe he is currently searching for some sort of Dark artifact to aid him in his battle against Potter. The vague hints from Lestrange imply he is very close to securing something that will guarantee success and, to quote her, 'deliver victory over the muggle-lovers to the Dark Lord.'" Snape frowned. "Other than that, Lestrange and Pettigrew have been sending small groups of Death Eaters out on raids without notice. I think the Dark Lord might suspect there is a spy."

Dumbledore nodded. "It was only a matter of time, Severus. Perhaps now would be a good time for you to leave his ranks. Your sacrifice is appreciated, but seems to be becoming less effective as Tom becomes more suspicious."

Snape shook his head. "As much as I want to leave, Albus, I do not believe that would be a good idea at this time. The Dark Lord will never allow me to live knowing I betrayed him, and it would be virtually impossible to get another spy in the Death Eaters should it become necessary. The more Death Eaters captured will increase the likelihood he will begin trusting me for greater things. Patience would be a virtue at this point."

"I see. You are correct as usual, Severus. I cannot emphasize enough how much the Order appreciates your sacrifice."

It did not seem to Ryselle there was a lot of appreciation for what he was doing. From what she had heard before the Potions master arrived, a number of the members seemed to believe he was only one short step from a truly loyal Death Eater. Harry especially had quite the negative opinion of him. She could not really blame him after seeing how he had a tendency to treat the young Gryffindor and his friends. Perhaps she should mention something to him.

The rest of the meeting consisted of a review of recent Death Eater attacks, and a brief discussion on possible strategies. Ryselle had a few suggestions based on what she learned from her grandfather. Now that the Ministry was being more cooperative – Arthur's position as the acting Minister of Magic had a great deal to do with it – they were getting more support from the Aurors. Dumbledore linked their mirrors into a call system used by the Ministry to inform Aurors of attacks. That would reduce the response time should a member need to summon them.

Ryselle received her mirror from Dumbledore at the close of the meeting, and used her wand to shrink it and clip it to her necklace. She thought the engraved phoenix on the back made for a lovely amulet.

Severus bid her goodnight, after thanking her for her supportive words, and Apparated back to Hogwarts as soon as the meeting ended. He did not seem comfortable in the house. She knew it was Sirius' house, and it was pretty obvious Snape did not like being there. It made sense considering how much the two hated each other.

Ryselle had always wondered about that. Sirius and his friends had attended school at Hogwarts, but he rarely spoke of his time here. Rather, he rarely spoke of anything other than James, Lily, or Remus at Hogwarts. The one time he mentioned Snape, was after the Slytherin had done something to hack him off. Apparently, Severus had a bit of a vendetta against James and Sirius, and had a tendency to take it out on Harry. Sirius was angrier than she had ever seen him over it, and it was not hard to see the hatred burning in his eyes. She wondered at the time what Severus had done to merit the former Gryffindor's animosity. Other than saying the man was a slimy git, he refused to say much else.

Severus, on the other hand, told her about a few of the things the Marauders did to him during their years at the school. Ryselle found it almost too hard to believe Sirius would have done such things, but she likewise had difficulty picturing the Potions professor as a Death Eater. Sirius was arrogant, she knew, and speculated he had been much worse before his time in Azkaban. It was that arrogance and strength of will that kept him alive for all those years, and only the thought of seeing Harry again gave him hope. Despite that, however, she could tell his spirit had been severely damaged, leaving him an angry, broken man.

His reunion with Harry changed that. Ryselle knew the reason Sirius died was that he refused to stand by and watch his friends fight the bad guys without him. She had a vision of the night he died, and in it he looked more alive than she had ever seen him. Thanks to her grandfather's teachings, she knew she could not interfere, and it tore her heart to pieces knowing she could have saved him. He would not have appreciated her intervention, however, and the future would have been made more uncertain. There were days that she cursed her mother's gift of Gypsy Sight.

She still cried herself to sleep far too often. The loneliness and grief were crushing at times. Sometimes it was too much for her to bear. It occurred to her the nights would pass more easily with companionship. She glanced quickly over at Severus Snape's seat. Color rose in her cheeks as she realized the directions of her thoughts. Bloody hell. That is the last thing I need to be thinking, she thought. The Potions master had made it quite apparent on many occasions that her company was only marginally tolerated. She considered him a friend, but he made it quite plain he was unwilling to become close to anyone. The other teachers mentioned that he had never been seen with a date or significant other of any sort in all the years he had been at the school. She was curious why, but would never presume to ask.

Deep in thought, Ryselle absently bid the others farewell and headed back to the school. She found herself needing the solitude of her rooms. Her emotions were a jumbled mess and she had no desire to try to maintain her cheerful mask this evening. Dumbledore, Lupin and now Harry were the only ones who knew she had known Sirius, so they understood her sorrow. The others had no need to see how much she still hurt even after several months. They would wonder, and Dumbledore felt it imprudent for anyone else to know of her association with Sirius.

She tried to spend some time reading one of the books her grandfather sent, but her mind refused to be quiescent. Memories of Sirius and the time they had spent together kept bubbling to the surface, and she refused to ruin the book by covering it in her tears. Realizing she would get no studying done tonight, she pulled on a Gypsy skirt over her chemise and headed out to the empty classroom near her office. It would be empty this time of night and she felt the need for some vigorous dance.

Down in the dungeons, Severus Snape was working diligently on his next demonstration for his Potions class. The sixth years were getting ready to begin studying healing potions, and he wanted to make sure everything was ready for them when school started back up on Monday. He also needed something to distract him from the disturbing thoughts he was having about the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

No one in the school could deny she was beautiful. Physically, she looked like one of Sirius Black's old girlfriends with her ebony hair and aubergine eyes. She often wore robes to match, which suited her coloring and made her eyes stand out even more. Her flawless, ivory skin contrasted with the dark colors of her hair and attire, but strangely did not make her look pasty-faced. There was just enough touch of pink in her cheeks to offset the paleness.

He frowned as he considered the detail of his image of her. The last thing he wanted to do was to get entangled romantically with a woman more than a decade his junior, who also happened to be his dueling partner and occasional assistant. Professionalism would suffer if he became enamoured of her. That simply was not appropriate. Especially now that she knew he was a Death Eater. If Lucius ever suspected he had any sort of interest in the young teacher, she would be in greater danger than she ever imagined. He resolutely pushed such speculations to the back of his mind and closed the door on those feelings. He studiously tried to ignore the memory of her small hand in his.

It occurred to him that his distracted state was not the best condition to suffer from while creating potions. Giving it up for a lost cause, Snape irritably locked up his ingredients and decided to call it a night. Perhaps he could use his time more efficiently by diverting his attention with a good book. He headed out to the Library. Ry…Professor Spellsinger offered a particular challenge the other day when she reflected his Blasting Curse and he thought he remembered reading about a spell that could not be redirected.

Snape stalked through the hallways, deep in thought, but attentive enough to catch any students out after curfew. It was his job after all to make sure the children were punished for their misbehaviour. He was walking past the DADA classrooms when he thought he heard a noise coming from one of them. It was usually empty. Ryselle kept it in reserve for particularly destructive demonstrations since it was very spacious. His eyes narrowed. There had better not be some students in there. He crept over to the door, frowning as he heard the sound of music from within. It certainly was not the professor practicing. Silently, he opened the door, intent on startling the students inside, but found himself startled instead.

Ryselle was whirling about the room, dancing to an exotic Gypsy melody produced by a group of animated instruments at the back of the classroom. Her skirts flowed around her like water, and a thin sheen of perspiration indicated that she had been active for a while. The dark cloud of her hair whipped about her face as she spun into an intricate move, joy radiating from her eyes because of her dance. He was thunderstruck. He read a short while ago about the Gypsies and the beauty of their dances. The description was not even close to doing justice to the magnificence of a Gypsy woman in the throes of such movement. She looked ecstatic, joyful, and free of all cares in the world. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Suddenly he realized he had no desire to read anymore.

The music abruptly ended and before he could close the door, she spotted him.

"Severus?" Her smile was welcoming. "What is it? Is something the matter?"

He realized he still looked dumbfounded and quickly changed his expression to something more neutral. "Uh, no, Ryselle. I was simply…passing by. I am afraid I thought there were students in here."

Her tinkling laugh echoed through the room. "I have the doors enchanted to ward off students. Do not worry about that. The last think I need is a student going through my books and classroom materials."

"Ah. Good. Well… uh… I believe I will be going. Good evening."

"Severus." Her voice stopped him as he turned to leave.

"Yes?"

"Wait a moment." With a few flicks of her wand, the instruments disappeared and she had magically refreshed herself. She headed over to where he stood and smiled up at him. "Perhaps you would like to join me for a snack?"

He felt oddly exhilarated about the idea and nodded without thinking. Before he knew it, they were ensconced in the teachers lounge with a tray of biscuits, some tea, and a small chocolate cake. He felt the urge to smile when her eyes lit up at the sight. Apparently, the house elves already knew about her chocolate addiction. They munched for a few minutes before she looked at him curiously.

"Okay, Severus, what is bothering you?"

He almost choked at the question. "Excuse me?"

"You do not seem to be yourself. What is the matter? Is it Lucius?"

His dark eyes narrowed at the name. "I am not pleased with the situation, no."

She nodded. "I understand. I do not see how the Ministry could just let that bloody bastard go with all that he has done."

"Politics, my dear. Fudge is a terribly political man and the Ministry adapted to accommodate that. The Malfoys have an incredible amount of power throughout the wizarding world, which means they have a lot of political influence. They are one of the oldest and wealthiest pure-blood families."

That got a snort. "Pure-blood. Surely they realize by now that they are about as pure-blood as the muggle royal family. Wizardry is simply a gift certain individuals have because of their evolution. Muggles have the potential to be wizards. They are simply not able to use magic because their gifts are not powerful enough."

Severus cringed at the thought. He was brought up to despise muggles and their offspring, and the idea that they possessed the same potential magical gifts as a wizard made his skin crawl. He sternly reminded himself that she grew up in a different environment and tried not to scowl at her words.

"Really?"

"Severus, two wizards are more likely to have another wizard as a child, like two redheads will typically produce another, but it is not always the case. The potential for wizardry is what my grandfather refers to as a recessive trait. That is why muggles can give birth to a wizard. Two of them with the potential are far more likely to produce a magical child than two parents without the potential for magic. But it can happen."

"That is the point. Being a pure-blood simply means you are descended from a long line of wizards. There is a certain amount of interrelation – my family has ties to the Malfoys, for example – but we do not have ties to muggles." The last word was nearly spat in disgust.

Ryselle was surprised. She should have expected it. He told her how he was raised. "Pure-bloods are not superiour because they have wizard parents, Severus. In fact, my grandfather believes that the intermarrying of wizards has been responsible for the loss of much of our magic. We used to be able to do so much more."

Again, he almost choked at her words. "What do you mean?"

"Take the Gypsies for example. You are aware that I have an unusual amount of magical gifts for a witch, correct?"

He nodded.

"That is not true where I come from. Most Gypsies have several abilities typically not seen here in Britain. The ability to speak with animals, to heal, manipulate the elements, and see into the future are the most common, and we do not typically need to use wands. Our gifts are generally weaker, however, as a result. It has nothing to do with heritage and everything to do with training.

"I am not descended from fifty generations of wizards or anything like that, Severus. In fact, my grandmother possessed only the gift of Sight and no other magic. My grandfather on my father's side was a muggle. Gypsies marry outside the so-called wizarding world far more often than anyone else. It is, perhaps, our nature to desire change. Because of the variety of our ancestors, many of us have an assortment of gifts not ordinarily seen in other wizards. Harry's mother was a muggle-born and her blood and that of his pure-blood father have gifted him rather significantly. Hermione is muggle-born and look at what she can do. It is also my understanding that Tom Riddle was a half-blood and he is extraordinarily powerful."

Snape frowned. "Surely you don't think being muggle-born is better than being a pure-blood?"

She shook her head. "Neither is superiour, Severus. Merely different. All I am saying is that this rivalry is petty and stupid. I honestly do not understand why Hogwarts and other places perpetuate it. The Americans do not have this problem."

"American magic is not the same as ours."

"Precisely for that reason. They do not have the problems with interbreeding that we do."

He was silent for a moment, thinking. He did not agree with her, but he was willing to concede she had a point. That more than anything disturbed him. Surely, he could not possibly be considering…

"We will have to agree to disagree on that, Ryselle."

"Fair enough. Now I did not mean to go off on a tangent, Severus. What is bothering you?"

How was he supposed to tell her that it was the sparkle of her eyes and the warmth of her smile that bothered him? That he was disturbed by the rush of pleasure he felt in her presence or the odd urges to glance at her whenever she was near. One of the highlights of his day was sitting next to her at meals and chatting with her as they ate. He sternly reminded himself to get a hold of himself.

"I am merely under a great deal of pressure, Ryselle. Lucius' release will make things a lot more difficult for me as far as the Death Eaters are concerned. I do not look forward to the holiday season."

She took his hand. "You know you can always spend it with me. I do not know what I will be doing, but your company would be welcome."

He was stunned. "Uh… thank you, Ryselle. I… uh… will probably be spending it at the Malfoys as usual."

"Ah. Okay." She yawned. "Oh dear, look at the time." Standing up, she flashed him a brilliant smile. "Thank you for the company, Severus. Goodnight." Before he could react, she kissed him gently on the cheek and was gone.

Bloody hell.

Severus Snape suddenly realized he was well and truly in trouble. She was far too extraordinary to ignore.