CHAPTER 14: The Morning After

The overcast sky allowed no sunshine through the windows. It rained all during the night, and his dreams were bleak and disturbing.

"Harry? Harry!" A low, powerful voice woke him from his slumber. "C'mon Harry, we've got to get up."

He opened his eyes, then automatically reached for his glasses. It took him a few seconds to realize he didn't need them anymore as he squinted at the huge figure blocking the doorway.

"Hagrid…" he sat up in bed, smiling weakly at his friend. "It is good to see you," he said groggily.

"All righ' Harry? It's good to see you too," Hagrid muttered, trying to smile. "Heard what happened yesterday."

"How is he?"

"Moody ain't doing too good, still touch and go," he said darkly. "But don't worry about that, he's a tough un. Gotta get dressed, I'm here to take ye to the meeting with Cho's mom, it's important you see, otherwise we woulda put it off."

"What time is it?" Harry asked, throwing his legs unto the ground.

"It's around nine, and we got to get a move on. "

"Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes," he replied, and Hagrid nodded.

"I'll be downstairs at the breakfas' hall."

Fifteen minutes later he was down at the great hall, having taken a quick shower and dressed He attacked the food ravenously because he didn't get a chance to eat yesterday. After taking the first few bites, he realised that everything tasted like sand to him. He coughed up the food, making a disgusting mess all over his plate. Holding his head in his hands, he sat there, thinking about what had happened. Sometimes, he wished he would just awake and be rid of this nightmare. Only a few hours ago- there was yet another attempt on his life, and a damn good one at that. Facing a wizard in a duel was one thing- but defeating someone who was immune to magic?

What was he to do?

He looked across at Hagrid, who could see the panic written all over his face. Hagrid shuffled uneasily on his feet at the main entrance, straightening the crooked suit of armour nearest to him.

"Hagrid?" Harry asked tentatively. Hagrid smiled underneath his huge beard, accidentally throwing down the Knight's lance with a loud Clang!

"What is it ?" he asked jovially. Almost too jovially.

"I'm, I feel really… really," he sighed. "I don't know. It's surreal you know? This feeling, it isn't fear any longer," Harry blurted. "That Warlock took out Moody without breaking a sweat. And he's coming for me." he added. Hagrid sighed loudly, and fitted himself awkwardly unto the opposite Gryffindor bench, folding his arms on the table. He leant in a little closer, and spoke in a low tone.

"I know Harry, I know. It's okay to be scared; it's natural. Don't worry, I'll stick around, nothings gonna happen to you."

"Hagrid, just saying that means a lot, thanks."

'It's been hard, but you're a strong lad, and we here for you," Hagrid reassured him. "Well lookit that-" he indicated the clock on the wall. "You ready?"

"I guess," he replied. They walked through the great hall to the front doors and outside. Sirius' motorbike was still there, parked where he left it last night.

"I remember using this almost sixteen years ago when-" Hagrid stopped, glancing at Harry.

"When what, Hagrid?"

"Never mind that. Come on, no time for chit chat." He got on the bike." Hold tight now, don't want you falling off."

"Hagrid!" a voice called from inside the hall. "Hagrid wait!" Professor Dumbledore was walking quickly towards them.

"Professor? Forgot something?"

Albus Dumbledore had a worried expression on his face, and Harry thought it was unnatural to see his Headmaster so troubled. In his hand he was carrying something that was wrapped in a soft black cloth, and neatly tied around its length was a gold braid. The object was cylindrical in shape, and three and a half feet long. With a last moment of indecision, he gave it to Harry.

"I think you should take this," Dumbledore said, a hopeful smile on his face.

Harry took it, curious to see what it was. He untied the braid, and unwrapped the cloth to reveal what was inside. It was a sword. The black hilt gleamed even in the overcast weather and the silver trim was flawless in its beauty.

"What is this?" he enquired, almost stunned.

"That is the sword you used to kill the basilisk," Dumbledore replied. Harry ran his palm over the smooth scabbard.

"It is? But that sword was smaller- and completely different," he remarked, confused.

"Ah," Dumbledore mused. "But that is the beauty of Gryffindor's weapon, it adapts to each person who wields it. Not any and everyone could, I might add. Back then you were only twelve, so it assumed a shape that was light enough for you to handle and manoeuvre. In the hands of the original owner it was a massive Nordic Broadsword," Dumbledore explained. "Go ahead, draw it out of its sheath."

Harry took it out of the cloth and held it with both hands. It was a magnificent weapon indeed, with a Hippogriff beautifully etched into the sheath near the hilt. Its piercing opal eyes glowed when he grasped the handle. Drawn into the empty void of the animal's eyes, he held the sword up at eye level. It was a straight double-bladed design, the hilt wrapped in an ancient Sphinx hide that was rich in its supple texture. Holding the hilt in his right and the sheath in his left, he separated them, examining every inch of the blade as he slowly unveield it. The workmanship was extraordinary; the reflection in the steel was more precise than any mirror.

A magical force emanated from it the further it was drawn, and Harry's hair tingled and rustled as the energy surged through him. His eyes once again burned, and slowly emitted a faint light, glowing blue at his pupils. He felt the Charm flow through him, giving him that extraordinary influx of energy that manifested itself in uncontrolled acts of magic over the past few weeks. Holding the sword in his hands, he felt overcharged, and one of these same 'outbursts' threatened to boil over once again. Closing his eyes briefly, he fought off that uncomfortable feeling. Opneing them again, his eyes returned to his normal emerald green colour and locked directly on the inscribed writing running along the length- the name of it's creator and first user; Godric Gryffindor.

In a final, smooth motion, he drew it completely out, then held it at arms length.

"It's... beautiful," he remarked quietly, his eyes mesmerized by the blade.

"Yes it is," Dumbledore nodded, also entranced by its appearance. Harry viewed it at different angles, rotating his wrist as he tested its weight and feel. They all stared at it for a while, until Harry fully understood that this was not a toy.

"I- I think- I think I should put it away now," Harry stammered, trying to tear his eyes away. He carefully eased it back inside the sheath, and the strange heaviness in the air faded. "The thing is, what good is it if I don't know how to use it?" Dumbledore contemplated him for a moment. He was not sure about this either.

"I have faith in you- use your instincts. Remember, you did slay the basilisk when you were younger." Dumbledore replied. "The tea leaves this morning gave me a sign. I doubted the accuracy of the interpretation, however- it seems to be true, the sword did respond to your presence. Look- it even changed its form to accommodate you. Since the last time you used it, this sword had never been touched. Now, it has transformed again in your hands. Truly remarkable."

"So you want me actually to use this?" Harry asked, completely lost. He didn't know how to use a sword- that time he fought the basilisk was complete luck, as far as he was concerned.

"When it is time, you won't need to know 'how' to use it. Just trust your instincts..." Dumbledore said quietly. "You two should get going, Mrs. Chang is expecting you," he changed subject, nodding at them. Harry took his seat behind Hagrid on the motorbike. "Goodbye Harry, safe trip," He waved, and waited until they were mere specks in the sky before he walked off.

Harry held on tightly to Hagrid's coat with one hand, and firmly held the velvet wrapping in the other. One thing which was peculiar, the weight of the sword at his side was strangely familiar, feeling as though another piece of him that was long missing was returned.

They zoomed over the fields and rolling hills leading away from Hogwarts, and soon were flying over the massive structures of London, straight into the Chelsea area. They landed in the alleyway behind Chang and Rutchkins, Attorneys At Law.

Hagrid looked around nervously as they disembarked; even he was a bit disturbed by the relative ease in which Moody was beaten. He was determined not to let his guard down. The Order was counting on him, and so was Harry.

"C'mon Harry, let's go," Hagrid said, escorting him around the corner to the front of the building. He opened the door for him, then ducked inside. Pavel Jankins greeted them again, immediately recognizing Hagrid and merely glancing at the young man who came in with him.

"Hagrid! How are you? Haven't seen you since I left Hogwarts all those years ago!"

"All right, Jankins? And I guess you've met Harry before," nodding to him.

"Harry? Oh yes Mr. Potter! Good to see you again. I presume you're here to see Mrs. Chang?" he asked. He paused significantly, eyeing the velvet wrapped object Harry held at his side. He looked at it with some interest and said, "Pardon me, sorry to do this, but I must check all visitors; even though I know you two are okay, its just building policy, the kind of things that tried to pass through you won't believe…."

Harry and Hagrid looked at each other, and shrugged their shoulders.

Well better just tell him than try anything stupid.

"Ummm.. Mr. Jankins, I- uh, have a sword with me." Harry explained, lifting it up slightly. "It's very important." He added lamely.

Pavel frowned at this. "A sword? Isn't that a muggle weapon? What are you doing with one here?"

"Uhhh-"

"Hogwarts business," Hagrid added, cutting him off.

Mr Jankins raised an eyebrow at him. "Hogwarts business eh? Very well, but I will need to check it anyway. May I see it?" Harry unwrapped the velvet from it and handed it over. The security wizard took it, examining the fine craftwork and excellent finish. He gripped the hilt, trying to draw the blade. It refused to open, and after a full minute of struggling, finally gave up. "Well it seems harmless enough, it won't open. I sense no magic protecting it, I've been trained in all sorts of illusion and concealment charms- it seems okay, so I guess you could go on up." He handed it back to Harry, who blew out a sigh of relief. He carefully wrapped it, and went into the elevator. Hagrid had to duck to get in and was bent slightly at the waist to accommodate the lift's relatively short height. Harry pressed the button to take them to the office. The elevator stopped on the next floor and someone got in.

"Hagrid! How are you?" Cho asked brightly, not even noticing Harry behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh hi Cho. Me'n Harry here are here for a meeting with your mum," he replied. "I'm sure you two have catching up to do," he smiled, giving Harry a wink. Cho watched Harry coldly.

"What do you mean 'catching up'? We were living in the same house for almost two weeks-and Harry, why are you looking like an escapee from St. Mungo's?" she eyed his patient's garment with the hospital's logo on the heart. Harry grimaced. Why is everyone on his case?

"You were? Well look at that, I've been gone for a few weeks and the first thing I hear when I come back is that Harry saved Moody's life and now that you two were living together?"

"Harry…WHAT?" Cho asked, giving Harry one of her incredulous looks.

"Well you see-" Hagrid started but was cut off by the ding of the elevator doors opening. "Ah- here we are-" he announced. Harry's eyes narrowed as he saw a very tense Mrs. Chang pacing up and down the waiting area.

"FINALLY!" she said, pulling Harry out of the elevator. "What was going through your head yesterday when you did those two spells? The Levitation and anti-leakage charms? I've got two officials here breathing down my neck wanting to talk to you. It was just three weeks without doing a spell! How could that be so hard?"

"When you've got a hunter and Voldemort trying to kill you you'd understand," Harry hissed under his breath. Everyone was definitely out for him today. His jaw began twitching and his face was set. Mrs Chang looked absolutely clueless. Harry strode passed her and went into the office, where two stern-looking wizards were waiting. He sized them up, and they sized him up, eyeing the object he held in his hand.

"Mr. Potter," the taller one addressed him. Harry turned his brilliant green eyes on him.

"Yes, and who are you?"

"Quite forward is he? For a fifteen year old," the other wizard commented.

"Obviously you are aware that the Underage usage of magic division has informed you implicitly NOT to use any spells until your case hearing?"

"Yes- but..."

"Yet you still performed- let's see," he looked down at a piece of parchment. "A levitation Charm and Anti leakage spell?"

"Yeah- but listen…."

"It must have been an extremely important cause for you to blatantly defy the law, obviously the great 'Harry Potter' needs not heed the decrees he is under," one mocked him.

"Most likely he will bring some story about being attacked by He-who-must not-be-named. Am I right?" the other sneered. Harry was losing patience quickly. Voldemort had gotten close to him already for the summer, but that was not the point. He stared coldly at them.

"Do any of you, um, gentlemen," he stressed on the word, "know of an Auror named Alastor Moody?" he asked.

"Of course we do, he taught most of the Aurors up in the Ministry and was one of my instructors at the academy," he puffed himself up, he thought that made him special.

"We were trained under him in the S.T.A.R. Elite-" the other bluffed. Hagrid raised an eyebrow.

'Now- don't go telling lies, sonny," Hagrid warned. They gulped, having being caught out. They did not press the point.

"Huh?" Harry ignored that last. "Well then I will also assume that you know that right now he's fighting for his life at St' Mungo's with a whole in his chest from the blade of a Warlock, and the only reason he's still alive is because I got him to the hospital yesterday?" he countered.

"What are you talking about? Warlocks were wiped out centuries ago," the taller one said. "Don't go making up stories, you'll only land yourself in even more trouble." They watched him as if he were no more than a mere pickpocket telling a tale to get away from stealing a wallet. Harry went outside over to the fireplace, grabbed some floo powder from on top the mantel and threw it in the flames.

"St. Mungo's Hospital!" Everyone was watching him now, from Cho all the way to the last staff member on the floor.

The receptionist from yesterday answered the call, "St. Mungo's, what is your emergency?"

"Uhh -Hi Mary, this is Harry. From yesterday, remember?"

"Of course I do! How can I forget? I've told all my friends- "

"Okay, okay. Forget about that for now, this is extremely important. I need to know how the patient in ward 29 is going: Alastor Moody," he cut her off.

"Oh the Auror you brought in yesterday? Hold on, I'll put you unto his healer," she transferred him to the healer who took him in yesterday.

"Harry!" Terry Richardson really looked worse for wear, it seemed he was working whole night. "It's a miracle he's still alive! If you were ten minutes later he would have been dead."

"How's he doing now?" Harry asked.

"Not so good. That wound is remarkable, none of the conventional wizard methods work. It's quite possible that he would have died on the spot if you did not stop the blood flow. Right now, he's still very much in danger, I'm just keeping my fingers crossed. If by tomorrow morning anything improves that would be a great sign. We're trying to keep him breathing until we could find a treatment for that stab wound he has."

"He's going to make it," Harry vowed.

"I hope so. I'll keep in touch, have to run, another patient needs me urgently. "

"Thanks, Healer Richardson," Harry said.

"Take care," Richardson said. "Good work, son." The fires died down, the conversation was over.

Harry gave the two wizards a look. "Now do you believe me?"

The two unnamed men looked at each other quizzically. "We will have to verify, um, Auror Moody's condition, um, but for now I guess we will put off the investigations, until –ah- further notice. If your story is confirmed that is. We will be in touch, Mrs. Chang." They gave him one of those looks he always got when he did something no one expected a 15 year old could do, quite similar to Mrs. Chang initial reaction to the whole drama. They left through the elevator, each giving Hagrid a large area of personal space as he looked mighty furious.

"Harry dear, we need to talk." Mrs. Chang indicated to her office. "It's out in the public Harry, the case and all the details," she sighed heavily. Her usually immaculately groomed hair was in disarray from running her hands through it, as she was doing now. "Your mates from school got the summons to court to give their account of that day, and Jack Lovegood thought it would make a great story. It's in this morning's Quibbler," she took one out and showed him. On the cover was Harry himself, dressed in England's Quidditch uniform, standing in a cell, gripping the bars. The headlines read:

HARRY POTTER, PRISONER OF AZKABAN?

Harry cursed. "What do we do now?"

"Well what we CAN do is prepare you for the crowds and all questions the media is going to bombard you with. Strangely enough, the article seems to be quite accurate, something very rare from that piece of junk magazine." She closed the door behind her. "Um," she began, a bit uneasy. "If you don't mind me asking, is anything going on between you and Luna Lovegood?" she asked, a bit curious.

"Luna?" that stumped him. Where would she get an idea like that? "No, there isn't anything going on. Why do you think that?" She indicated to the magazine. He picked it up and read the article. Everything was pretty much accurate, just as Mrs Chang said. She must have added what she concluded from the summons and other people who were there; maybe Ginny, they were friends.

"Not the main article, the article from Luna herself," she told him. He turned to that page and read her first-hand account of the incident. Luna did seem to flower up her relationship with Harry, and made him out to be some hero. There were some instances that, if you did not know better, you would have thought that something was indeed going on between them. To make matters even more complicated, she ended it with a romantic touch:

'He was brilliant, he would always be my hero.'

-Luna Lovegood

It was flattering, but he did not know what to say. He looked up at Mrs. Chang, who was eyeing him curiously. "What?" he asked.

"Harry dear, I need to know. What is going on between you and my daughter? She aced her exams, as I knew she would, but she does not seem to be all too happy. In fact, she seems really wrung out." Harry felt really uncomfortable now, that direct gaze these lawyers had really did dig deep into you. "She really likes you, you know that?"

"Aahh- I think so," he answered vaguely.

"You think so so? She's being crying on and off since she got home for the weekend, and even told me that she did not want to go practice Saturday, and I believe it's because of you. She thinks you don't like her anymore. Please talk to her, you two really need to iron out what's going on." She smiled at him. "I think you two would suit each other nicely." He returned her smile hesitantly; inwardly cursing himself for inadvertently creating yet another situation to deal with. Mrs Chang saw his indecision and wisely changed subject.

"Well anyway, I've wrote down some common questions that the media would ask, so lets run through them to get yourself familiar. Okay?"

He nodded, and they began.

Draco Malfoy was reading that morning's issue of the Quibbler. His face darkened at the words he was reading, it did not look good for his father. Fuck it all- this was all Potter's fault. He flexed his right hand automatically, his fingers felt stiff and cramped often with the after effects from the healing charm Pansy did. It had hurt like a bitch when she did it, but it was fixed, and a few pins and needles now and then couldn't kill him. His mother was still distraught, and now he had to go and feed her when she refused to eat. Narcissa Malfoy had lost a lot of weight and was in a semi trance state most of the time, walking around in a daze and sometimes calling him Lucius repeatedly, even when he corrected her. It was really a strange feeling, telling your mother to remember that your name is Draco, only for her to say in the next breath, "I know, Lucius."

He strode around bareback, he finally achieved Level One Fire Summoner, and henceforth was tattooed a symbol on his right shoulder blade. It was a mark of achievement; and if he ever made it to Level Seven Master Summoner he would be nearly covered with tattoos. The tattoo was magically scribed, it glowed when he was training and gave him a fire resistance as well to minor flames. He was proud with himself, it usually took nearly two years to complete the first stage, he managed it in less than three months. Logan Ash was merciless, but he got results; that is why he was the best.

He would be in the same room as Potter in a few days, but he had to control himself. Summoners were frowned upon, as they could do dangerous magic that was untraceable by the ministry. It was a perfect way to create mayhem without being caught. The Terra magi Earth Elemental have field days in the far east, the earthquakes they could produce for a bit of merriment were never fingered unto them.
For now, he would be cool, and bide his time until the time was right. His father was going on trial, and he needed to be the mature one in this household since his mother was a complete mess.

"Lucius!" a voice cried from upstairs. Draco sighed, put down the magazine and went to check on her. He looked down at her sallow face, and frowned at the amount of weight she had lost. He resolutely began feeding her some of the food he put there for her on her bedside table, coaxing her like a little child. Thoughts of Potter ran through his head.

Soon. Very soon he would have his chance.

At that same time, another young man was looking after his parents. Neville Longbottom was at his parents' ward at St. Mungo's. He no longer was the clumsy, awkward youth he was a year ago. He was taller, and he no longer walked in a timid manner. The battle at the ministry had changed him, both physically and emotionally. His broken nose had added character to his boyish face, and the beating he took still left slightly discoloured areas on his face. Neville refused to sue a healing charm, he left the bruises there as a reminder that he now had focus, and intended to do what he never thought he could do.

He sat with them between their adjacent beds, and was having a one-way conversation.

"I saw her mom, dad. I know who did this to you. I know how it feels. I wish you could have fought it off, I wish you could talk to me right now. I need to hear you say what I should do, mom. Bellatrix Lestrange is in my head night and day, and she's somewhere out there. I brought your wand back to you dad." He handed him the wand that was broken in half. "Sorry it broke. It meant a lot to me that you left it for me to use. Anyway, I took mom's own to Ollivander's, just to see what Mr. Ollivander thought about me using it. He said it suited me even better than yours, dad."

He looked at their bland faces, trying hard to keep their attention. It was always like this, this cat and mouse game of trying to make them acknowledge his presence. He touched the toy hanging over his mother's bed, an overweight elephant with tiny wings on its ankles. It began to dance in midair, and his mother smiled an open-mouthed smile, gazing at the object. His eyes watered, and he roughly wiped them away.

"I have a really good friend, a friend in school, who showed me that being brave is not about heroics or being strong, it's about believing- and fighting for what you believe in. Anyone could fight, he taught us that. I've learnt more magic from him in one year than in all my classes. He's really good. He took on Bellatrix, and gave her a dose of her own medicine! He fought off Death Eaters mom! And he's in my class!" his voice rose in enthusiastic admiration. Neville took another wrapper from his mother's fingers, and quieted immediately. "I felt what it's like to fight for a cause, and he fought dad, he fought for all of us. I believe in him, and I will back him up in this trial he has. Could you believe that they are trying to jail him? After all this crap about them not believing when he told them Voldemort was back? He's going to take out Voldemort, I can feel it. There's something different about Harry now; it's like he has this look in his eyes during the last days of school this year. That fire burns in me too, and…and I promise, Lestrange will pay…" He sniffed, held both of their hands and bowed his head to hide his silent tears. "I've got to go," he mumbled, and got up, once again wiping the angry tears from his face.

He turned to leave, but a pale hand stopped him. His mother had taken hold of his fingers, and pulled him toward her. She mumbled something, and handed him a candy wrapper. He took it gently; more tears rolled down his face.

"I promise mom, I promise."

Ginny and Ron were at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, helping their two brothers take inventory. Since Ron got his grades, he tried very hard to avoid his mother. He did not do that bad, but he failed Divination, History of magic and Astrology with flying colours, and she definitely was not pleased. So he and Ginny were checking some of the new stuff their brothers bought when suddenly they yelled out to him in unison, "RON!"

The twins came storming in from behind the counter to the storage room. "You knew, and you DID NOT TELL US!"

"Knew what?"

"THAT HARRY COULD GET SENT TO AZKABAN!" they roared. They were bearing down on Ron, who cowered in the corner.

"Wait, I promised Harry not to tell anyone, he didn't even want to tell me! He did not want everyone to know that he was in serious trouble, tried to play it down, I swear!" said Ron.

The three siblings looked at each other, and accepted what Ron said. "Sounds like something Harry would do. But the secrets out now, Loony Lovegood's dad put it in print," showing them today's Quibbler.

"Holy shit, now everyone knows. It's gonna be a fiasco at the Ministry of magic that day! This is bad." Ron lamented.

"Keep your pants on, I'm sure things will work out," Ginny said, not really believing herself. Ron gave her an incredulous look.

"Ginny, dear sister, this is Harry we're talking about. Not our Harry, the 'Harry Potter' that everyone knows. When has ANYTHING ever worked out once his name gets put into things? Look at the Triwizard tournament; it's going to be an even bigger mess with the media. And to top things off he had a game winning performance against the Cannons the other day and everyone still buzzing about him being so young and that good, like he's some sort of god or something. There are gonna be tons of people there." He plopped down on his stool and ran his hand through his spiky red hair.

"Still wished we were around that day, we woulda have done some real damage to those Death Eaters," Fred said giving George a pat on the back. Ginny looked up at them, eyes furious.

"Don't make light of that day, we almost nearly died there, and one of us did!" she screamed. The storage room went deathly quiet. The grins vanished from the twins' faces, and Ron looked up in shock at Ginny. She stormed out, and left, fuming down Diagon Alley.

"We've gotta go and check up on Harry. Lets go find Ginny," Ron said. The brothers nodded, closed up the shop, and went in search for their sister.

Halfway across England, Ernie Macmillan was reading the quibbler article. He jumped up immediately and ran over to the fireplace. "Boots' residence!" he shouted into the green flames, calling for his mate Terry Boot. Padma and Parvati Padmil were already making the rounds to their girlfriends, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell top priority. Katie who was friends with Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff informed her; who in turn called Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner who already was talking with Terry Boot so got the information twice from two different sources. Terry Boot who was also a West Ham fan called Dean Thomas who then obviously contacted his best mate Seamus Finnigan. Soon enough all of Dumbledore's army knew about the summons, who now contacted their housemates from school and told them that if they did not have the Quibbler as yet, to go and get it NOW. In the space of half a day, everyone from Hogwarts were talking about it thru the flu network, and everyone was trying to get in contact with Ginny, Ron, Neville, Luna and Hermione. No one knew how to contact the main protagonist, Harry, so they all tried to get thru to anyone mentioned in the article. The whole of Dumbledore's Army knew, and they took exception to anyone who dared slander his name.

"We've got to come up with something to show our support for him on Friday, we can't let him hang high and dry," Alicia said to Padma and Parvati. "He's done so much for everyone, not to mention he's a great seeker."

"I guess I could forget about the Yule ball, I still haven't forgiven him for treating me like that, but this is serious and I think he was the best defense against the dark arts teacher we ever had. I'm in, you in Padma?"

"Of course!"

"Great," Alicia said. "Let's get cracking."

Luna Lovegood was lying down in her bedroom, gazing at the ceiling. She had a poster of Harry in full quidditch gear on her wall, and the Quibbler magazine face down on the bed, opened on the page where she begged Daddy to let her write a piece. She had a huge crush on him ever since she saw him sit next to her on the fateful day at the start of the fifth year, and she finally got the nerve to put any of what she felt for him after the fight at the ministry to paper. Whole summer she thought nothing else, and the article Daddy decided to put out when the owl post arrived with the summons for her to appear in court was too good an opportunity to miss. She knew he was hot for Cho, but she did not care. Friday she'll see him again, and that's what kept her happy ever since the letter came in the mail.