Sirius wrote back with surprising speed in answer to Harry's letter about their confrontation with Pettigrew. This was perhaps his first response that was genuinely a scolding. Harry, who had no wish whatsoever to share it with his friends, hastily stuffed it into his bag and went back to his breakfast. Ron, sitting next to him, raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Er, so, Snuffles says that Wormtail disappearing in the bathroom isn't that strange. The sewer system isn't included in the map, and rats do like to live in the sewers. Er, and he thinks we shouldn't have gone after Wormtail on our own." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Good thing he can't send you any howlers, mate." Ron caught on and grimaced sympathetically.

They had double herbology that morning. Bundled up, they joined the Hufflepuffs in Greenhouse three. Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse.

"We'll be pruning the venomous tentaculas today," she said. "Now, can anyone tell me which parts of it are venomous?"

Hermione's absence could be felt by the lack of an immediate answer. Several hands went up hesitantly, with answers, "The teeth," "The shoots," "The spikes," being thrown around the room.

"The digestive fluid." Harry noticed Neville standing next to him only when he heard the quiet answer.

"...it's actually the digestive fluid, and not the teeth that are venomous," Sprout could be heard explaining soon after.

"Why didn't you raise your hand?" asked Ron.

Neville shrugged self-consciously.

"The venomous tentacula also has mobile vines that try to grab living prey," said Professor Sprout. "Those, however, are not venomous. In fact, the plants are not venomous at all at the moment. Who can tell me why?"

Neville kept moving his lips, as if forming an answer, but once again would not raise his hand. Harry nudged him. "Go on," he whispered, as other students tried to guess the answer. Finally, Neville raised a trembling hand.

"It's still winter. It... the venomous tentacula, um, it's a deciduous, um..." The rest of Neville's answer was lost in his mumbling.

"Correct, Mr Longbottom," said Professor Sprout. "Five points to Gryffindor. The venomous tentacula hasn't grown any spikes yet, because it only has spikes while it flowers, in the spring, and it'll only grow teeth in autumn, when it doesn't have as much sunlight any more. Both the teeth and the leaves are deciduous – and rather expensive, in the case of the leaves. That's why we're pruning them now, before they begin growing back."

She pointed to a row of deep trays, which held a hundred or so shrubs – spiky gnarled branches of a dark red colour interleaved with green vines. Sprout had them all pick a pair of gloves and a pair of pruning shears per group of four. Harry and Ron grabbed theirs, only to notice Neville had not moved from his spot.

First, Harry thought the boy was in shock because he had won house points in class – something Harry could not remember ever having happened before. But then he noticed Neville's drooped shoulders and his longing gaze towards a group of Hufflepuffs – the same group of Hufflepuffs Neville usually worked with in herbology.

Harry and Ron walked back to Neville at the same time as Justin Finch-Fletchley, who began to invite Neville before freezing up when he noticed the other two Gryffindors. Neville's shoulders seemed to sink even lower, but he straightened his spine as he turned towards his house mates. Even Harry could not miss the meaning of that action and be touched by it.

"Hi, Justin," he said with a lightness in his voice he did not feel. "Want to join us?"

The Hufflepuff boy looked ready to bolt, but then Professor Sprout was there, thinking they were a group, asking them how well they were at the freezing charm, the severing charm – which had been covered in their defence and charms classes, but not everyone could use them confidently yet. When Harry and Ron answered positively, she moved to the next group, satisfied, and Justin was not so rude as to leave after that.

Harry and Ron drew their wands. Ever since their encounter with Pettigrew, Hermione had been adamant that they needed to learn duelling, and Immobulus, the freezing charm, had been high on her list of spells to master, even though it was mostly used to combat pests. It would prove very handy for the herbology class, at least, as they would not have to struggle with the moving vines of the tentacula plants.

Harry and Ron alternated casting Immobulus and Diffindo, the severing charm, while Neville told them exactly where to prune the branches. He, himself, preferred to use the shears when he was the one pruning. Justin would not go near the plants, and looked visibly uncomfortable, being stuck working with them. Harry would have felt sorry for him, if he had not been so annoyed at everyone just deciding it was all right to think him guilty. At any rate, Justin seemed most comfortable with writing the report and labelling the pruned plants, so they left him to it.

Slowly, though, the little comments they exchanged, while passing the shears and rearranging the pots, began to sound like actual conversation. Justin, who was anything but quiet, as Harry remembered from the beginning of the year, could not stand to be silent for too long. Then, when Professor Sprout came back to check on their work and gave them a point each, he actually grinned, suddenly quite happy to be included in their group.

From then on, it was easy. Neville, encouraged, wanted to try to cast the freezing charm himself – something he had tried to learn ever since the pixies had lifted him into the air by his ears. He still was not very good at it, and it slowed them down, having to evade the vines. Justin, convinced that he could do better than Neville, cast Diffindo – with rather lacking control.

The venomous tentaculas ended up looking worse for wear, and Professor Sprout would end up asking herself why she had given them points, but the rift between the boys disappeared. Suddenly, Harry was not so scary any more, and Justin was asking Neville why he had not seen him around his friend Ernie lately.

Later, during their defence class, Ron asked Harry why he had put up with Justin's change of attitude. Harry had to admit that it still bothered him, that Justin – and everyone else – thought him responsible for the petrified students (and cat). It also bothered him that Justin could just decide to be friendly to him again – and expect him to do the same in return – without seeming at all apologetic.

"But he was really afraid," whispered Harry – just in case Lockhart decided to look up from whatever it was he was writing at his desk to pay them attention. "Of me – and yes, he had no reason to, but... Peeves dancing to 'Potter, you rotter' is annoying, but having Justin – and others – look at me with actual fear..." He could not explain further, but Ron seemed to get it.

The next letter Harry received from Sirius was mildly apologetic. It seemed, he had calmed down somewhat and his response was much more helpful. He asked Harry to send the Marauders' Map to him so he could make a copy of it. This would mean a few days without the ability to check Pettigrew's exact location, but with Harry's foe-glass, they would be able to avoid any unexpected run-ins with him. The reason Sirius thought his risky plan was a good idea was simple: Harry and his friends could not keep an eye on the map at night, as Pettigrew could guess easily enough, but Sirius could.

Harry did as suggested, but asked for an extra copy for himself as well. The day Hermione was to be released from the hospital, Hedwig returned with the original Marauders' Map and the copy Sirius had made. He had not questioned Harry's reason, something the boy was grateful for, as he was not sure his godfather would approve of his plan. The copy differed from the original in one very significant way. It did not have an imprint of its makers. Instead, it was merely a map of Hogwarts, which displayed all the names of the people within it, and could be hidden or revealed with the same pass phrases as the original. In some ways, it was a disappointment, but Harry also felt strangely relieved. The teenage imprints of the Marauders were too precious, somehow, to be reproduced at will. Also, this way, the new map was merely an object he could put to good use.

Hermione left the hospital wing free of all animal traits at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in the Gryffindor tower, lots of people wanted to talk to her, to ask her questions about her mystery illness. Word had got out about how she had looked, and her dorm mates, Lavender and Parvati, were telling her how sorry they felt for her. It seemed, they could imagine few things as horrible as having their appearance disfigured in such an extreme way. While this was, admittedly, a little shallow, their sympathy for Hermione was genuine.

Hermione's social skills, however, were once again failing her. She was ready to brush off her dorm mates as quickly as she could, dismissive of their concern. But Ron was there, glossing over her near-rudeness, saying how her 'accident' had scared him and Harry, and making a fun tale out of their journey to the hospital wing and the matron's reaction to seeing Hermione.

As soon as the initial interest had died down, Hermione led her friends out of the common room. She could not wait a moment longer to start training. With the help of their map – the new one Sirius had sent, to try it out – they found an empty classroom to practice duelling in. The manic expression on her face as she tried to convince her friends how important it was to learn duelling, told them that this would not be anything like their occasional experiments with casting spells together.

She, herself, had not been allowed to use magic while in the hospital wing, but she had the boys go through every spell in their defence against the dark arts curriculum – including Immobulus. Harry and Ron had grumbled a little, but they could not really argue against her, because they actually agreed with her. Their encounters with the possessed Ginny, and later Pettigrew, had convinced them that they had to be able to defend themselves.

On top of that, Harry thought it would be good to actually learn some of their defence curriculum. He was no Hermione, but he was aware that he would have to sit exams at the end of that year, and Lockhart seemed to have lost all interest in teaching. Not that he had ever taught them anything, but at least he had introduced them to pixies – in that disastrous first lesson – and tried to start a duelling club – though that had mostly resulted in injured students and Harry being revealed to be a parselmouth. Even that seemed too much effort for him now. Unsurprisingly, the duelling club had not picked up after the holidays.

"Well, how about we go through all the spells we know, to start with," said Hermione. She had brought several books with her, and was leafing through one of them.

"How about we just try to duel each other?" said Ron.

"I agree." Harry was not swayed by Hermione's put-out expression. "We did tell you what happened when we met Pettigrew, didn't we? We wanted to surprise him, but his attacks were more of a surprise to us..."

Hermione nodded reluctantly. She wanted to duel first, and Harry faced her. The fight was over before it had begun. As soon as they had bowed, Harry cast the disarming spell, gaining Hermione's wand and winning the duel.

Next, Hermione faced Ron. She was quicker than his Expelliarmus, but Ron managed to throw up a shield before her spell could hit him. Her spell disintegrated Ron's shield, and she managed to jinx him after that, but her second duel with Harry went exactly like the first one.

"Well, that's a bit silly," complained Hermione. "You two just keep casting the same two spells!"

"If they work..." said Harry. "Snape isn't one for foolish wand-waving – as he calls it. So if he thought these were the spells to know for duelling..."

Hermione was not satisfied with this reasoning, but when she was facing Ron again, she switched tactics. This time, she was the one who cast the disarming spell, but Ron had been expecting it – or something similar – and his shield was up in time. Even worse, when Hermione tried the same with Harry, he managed to hold on to his wand.

"I knew you'd try that," he told her cheekily. "I'm a seeker – I'm used to holding on to twitchy things," he explained gently, seeing her disheartened expression.

The rest of the week passed in a similar fashion. Every evening, Harry and his friends left the common room to practice duelling in some secluded corner of Hogwarts. Hermione was a bit disheartened at first, but not discouraged. She made sure to observe her friends as they duelled each other.

Harry and Ron mostly kept to their basic strategies. Harry was the fastest of the three, and could often win the duel straight away with the disarming spell. Ron preferred to react, but his shields were rather quick as well.

By Friday, their duels had become very predictable. If Harry did not manage to disarm Hermione right away, she would usually win, because he could do little to counter her arsenal of spells. Ron was somewhat better at shielding against incoming attacks, but soon enough his focus would slip, allowing Hermione to win. Harry still won most of the duels against both of his friends, but Hermione was beginning to read with a focus that promised a change of tack.

They could not take advantage of that weekend to train, unfortunately. Harry had quidditch practice on Saturday morning, and then they had to serve detention later that evening. McGonagall intercepted them before they could leave the great hall after lunch to tell them what they would be doing – and with which member of staff.

"You will be helping me prepare the materials for the first year classes next week, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall. "You, Mr Weasley, will be preparing some potions ingredients with Professor Snape-" She ignored Ron's horrified yelp. "And you, Mr Potter, will once again be helping Professor Lockhart with his fan mail." She merely raised her eyebrows at Harry's expression of gloom.

They passed the hours of the afternoon listlessly, doing their most boring homework. Even so, the time seemed to fly and much sooner than he would have liked, Harry was dragging his feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office.

Lockhart let him in with a beaming face and an enthusiastic greeting. That did not bode well.

"Harry, you've done it again," said Lockhart, as he led Harry to a desk filled with a large pile of his photographs on it. "I understand, of course. Natural to get a little... shall we say, impatient, after so many months of the same... But, remember, Harry, that school is important, and this kind of acting out doesn't look good, even if it's perfectly natural to get bored."

Harry suppressed the urge to defend himself. He had no intention to tell Lockhart the reason for his detention – not that he would be believed, even if he tried.

"Am I addressing the envelopes again?" he asked instead.

Lockhart's smile did not dim as he handed Harry the pile of envelopes and ink and quill. "A lot of new post again, I'm afraid," he said, clearly bragging. "But that's how it is. You disappear from the public eye for a little while, and suddenly everyone's interested in your news. I had so many engagements over the holidays, it could hardly be called a break from work!" He laughed heartily. "See, it's not always necessary to do something flashy to regain people's attention, Harry," he said in his best paternal tone.

Harry tried to tune him out as he worked, but the snippets that reached him, "I know you spent rather... quiet holidays here at Hogwarts," or "Whose attention were you hoping to attract, with the school left almost empty," made him suspect that Lockhart was actually trying to get him to tell him why he was in detention.

His suspicion proved true; he had just lifted his aching hand from the last envelope, ready to bolt from the office, when Lockhart called him back.

"Just a second, Harry. You're making it look like you can't get away from me fast enough." He chuckled, as if this was an outrageous idea.

Harry, who would almost have preferred to spend time with Tom Riddle, Lucius Malfoy, or even Slytherin's monster at that moment, had to bite back a retort.

"Now, Harry, you can't expect such a treat every time you get a detention. So if there is a repeat of... Tell me, what exactly did you do to spend the first weekend back in detention?" Despite the light tone, Harry had no trouble spotting the genuine curiosity in Lockhart's eyes.

"We – we were throwing some spells at each other, and then Hermione had that accident..." Harry told him the lie he and his friends had concocted.

"Harry," Lockhart said with a sorrowful shake of his head. "Harry, Harry. I should have known. Once people experience the thrill of duelling... Of course, being a celebrated adventurer – and honorary member of the Dark Force Defence League – it was expected of me to teach it. But, Harry, there is no need for you to try to emulate my achievements. We are all special in our own way-"

Harry remembered Lockhart's attempts at duelling Snape. He had not even been able to cast a shield charm. And there was his constant need to downplay Harry's status as the Boy Who Lived.

"So you don't take pointers from other fighters of dark forces?" he asked shrewdly. Maybe Ron had been right, saying that Lockhart was jealous of him – and that he wanted to teach at Hogwarts to get close to Harry.

"Other fighters?" Lockhart asked with a curious smile. "I suppose there is nothing wrong with admiring someone truly accomplished." He looked flattered.

Harry cringed. Lockhart thought Harry meant to emulate him. "But don't you try to meet them? To find out what the hype is all about?" Not that Harry thought surviving Voldemort when he was a baby made him a fighter of the dark forces, but the way Lockhart's smile froze on his face made him think that maybe he had hit the mark.

It was once again close to midnight when Harry made it back to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had already returned, and was waiting for him.

"Professor McGonagall wanted me to transfigure all the matches and matchboxes – to check that the first years had not left any spells on them," she told him enthusiastically. "Do you remember when we began transfiguring mice into snuffboxes last year-"

Harry did not, and he listened somewhat jealously as she told him about the interesting – to her, at least – work McGonagall had given her. Ron arrived not too long after, looking tired. Harry thought he would have someone else to share his misery with, but was sorely disappointed.

"Snape's been a right git in class lately, but detention was all right," said Ron. "Just had to go through some potions ingredients – sort out things that had gone bad. A lot of them were the things we used in the polyjuice potion, and Snape kept asking me questions – and he actually explained when I got something wrong. How about you? How was detention with Lockhart?"

"Well, at least I didn't hear any murderous voices this time," said Harry, and did not mention that he had almost wished he had, just to have a distraction from Lockhart's prattling.

~HP~

As the days got longer, the mood inside the castle began to lighten. Peeves was still singing 'Potter, you rotter' whenever he saw Harry, and Ernie was still avoiding him, but was no longer accusing him openly – now that he and Neville had made up. Then Harry heard Madam Pomfrey tell Filch one afternoon that the mandrakes were growing well, and it would not be too long until they were ready to be stewed.

Harry would have been tempted to let himself believe that Slytherin's monster had decided to hibernate for another fifty years, like many other people seemed to have done, but he feared he knew better. He and his friends were still determined to prepare as well as they could for what was to come – even if they did not yet know what exactly that might be. Almost daily, they slipped away from others' sight to train.

Hermione had had enough of her initial losses, and by the second week, the tables had turned. Neither of the boys could cast a powerful enough shield to last for more than one of her attacks, and once they had trained for a bit, and had grown a little tired, they could not even do that. Her spells went straight through their fragile shields. Hermione had also learned how to hold on to her wand, if she was expecting Harry's disarming spell. This finally convinced the boys to practice other spells. Harry's book, Curses and Counter-curses, was once again their favourite read.

Meanwhile, Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself was responsible for the lack of new attacks. Harry overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Gryffindors were lining up for transfiguration.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him.

"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing..." He tapped his nose again and strode off.

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster meant that Harry and his friends could not use the second weekend in February for training, either. It was the second Hogsmeade weekend of the school year, and because Valentine's day fell on Sunday, that was the day of the trip to Hogsmeade. On Saturday, Wood had insisted to have quidditch practice both in the morning and in the evening, to make up for the lack of training the following day, which had run till late into the night.

Still bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, Harry came down for breakfast to the bizarre sight of the great hall decorated with large, lurid pink flowers, which matched Lockhart's robes. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the ceiling, and onto their breakfast. He listened with growing disgust, as Lockhart explained his Valentine's day celebration.

All day long, a dozen surly looking dwarves, wearing golden wings and carrying harps, marched around the school to deliver valentines. There was no way for Harry and his friends to find a secluded place to train, with so much disruption going on. Worse still, Lockhart let them know that the whole thing would continue the next day – to give the students who had gone to Hogsmeade a chance to celebrate as well.

Harry could have screamed at that point. Hermione, sitting next to him, was gripping her fork in a way that made Harry very glad it was not a wand.

"Oh, well, a little rest might not be so bad," Ron said with a sigh.

While Hermione turned to berate him, Harry noticed Neville's curious looks. Just as they were leaving the great hall, he collected his courage and approached them.

"Is Lockhart interrupting your training?" he asked.

Harry and his friends stared at him, nonplussed.

"You've been up to something all year, casting spells together, and whatnot," mumbled Neville. "Remember, you asked me about the Engorgio charm in autumn. And then Hermione had that accident, I know, but I don't think you'd quit so easily..."

Harry and Ron looked to Hermione, but she could not do more than stutter, either.

"It's alright, if it's a secret," said Neville. "But if you ever need help again, or someone to compare to, er..."

Harry was unsure how to respond, besides a thank-you, but Hermione thought otherwise.

"Actually, that might be interesting," she said. "There's something I wanted to test..."

Their curiosity could not be satisfied right then, making Harry even more annoyed at Lockhart and his Valentine's day 'cupids'. It was while he and his friends were evading another dwarf, who was chasing some unfortunate student to give him something called a 'singing valentine', that Harry had an idea.

"You know how we had planned to return the Marauders' Map to your brothers on their birthday? Well, they'll be insufferable on their birthday..." he said to Ron.

The twins' dejected demeanour had been hard on their conscience, and with Pettigrew now convinced that they had the map, and with the second copy Sirius had sent them, they thought Fred and George could safely have the original map back. Their birthday seemed the obvious choice for it, but if the twins wanted to celebrate April Fools' Day – their birthday – the way they had the year before, Ron and his friends would hardly feel like they deserved any presents on that day.

Ron's mouth pulled into a smirk as he guessed what Harry was getting at. "You want to send them a special valentine?"

"Oh, no," said Hermione. "That would mean letting those – 'cupids' – have it, if for a little while-"

"It'll be fine – we'll keep an eye on them with our map," said Harry, liking his idea more and more.

"Oh, yeah, definitely," said Ron. "That way, we can follow them, as well. I want to see their faces when Gred and Forge get it back."

~HP~

All day long on Monday, the dwarves kept barging into their classrooms, to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers. The Gryffindors, who had defence before lunch, had to suffer through an hour of almost uninterrupted visits from the dwarves, as Lockhart himself received valentine after valentine. Harry, who was at the front of the class, acting the part of the Bandon Banshee, was almost run over by one of them as he tried to get to Lockhart.

Harry could see Ron shifting impatiently in his seat at the back of the classroom, while Hermione seemed engrossed in a book. This was a cover to hide the map, as she kept track of their valentine being delivered to the twins. Harry could only hope for the class to end soon, while he was made to suffer through another humiliating re-enactment.

"The banshee began to screech — A little louder, Harry — Enough, enough! Yes, that was certainly… loud enough… Now, then. Does anyone remember what I used to defeat the banshee?" asked Lockhart.

Hermione's hand was for once not the first in the air. Several others did raise their hands, though. They had learned that Lockhart's classes were most tolerable when they humoured him. Lockhart, however, was glancing at Hermione, who was not so engrossed in keeping an eye on the map to miss that. She raised her hand.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Wasn't too long ago that you were the best student in the year. Let's hear it then!"

"You whacked her over the head with a broomstick—"

"Correct!" Lockhart produced an actual broomstick from behind his desk, and alarmingly raised it above Harry's head. "So there I was—" He laughed heartily when Harry took a step back. "Oh, there's no need to worry. I'm not actually going to—"

Harry screeched again, just as Lockhart swung his broom, making him cease up in surprise. "How come she didn't just kill you with her scream?" he asked, then bit his lip in consternation as Lockhart's excited expression changed to an awkward grimace.

Lockhart caught himself a moment later, coming back with a toothy grin. "I was too fast for her, of course!" He suddenly swung the broomstick, and Harry was sure it would have hit him, had he not ducked away from it.

Finally, the bell rang. Harry could see his friends packing their bags hastily, probably to chase down the twins. He rushed over to his desk, to do the same. He was haphazardly throwing all his possessions into his bag, when Lockhart's hand landed on his shoulder unexpectedly, making him jump and drop a few things.

"You do seem in a rush, Harry," he said with a hearty chuckle. "I didn't actually frighten you, did I? You weren't frightened of a broomstick, were you? Where's that Gryffindor courage, eh?" He shook Harry a little while saying that.

"No, I just need to meet with someone very soon," said Harry, stepping away.

"Wait, wait. You're forgetting your mirror!" Lockhart chuckled some more, as he picked up the foe-glass Harry had dropped.

Lockhart straightened one of his locks while looking into it, before handing it over, and finally stepping away, allowing Harry to rush out of the classroom to catch up with his friends. He was almost out the door, when he realised the strangeness of that action. How could Lockhart have confused the foe-glass for a mirror? He stopped, grabbed his foe-glass. It still surprised him to see Lockhart's reflection in it, seeming to walk towards him, but getting smaller, as the real person was moving farther away from Harry.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him just around the corner, looking very impatient. There was no time to tell them about his new discovery, as Harry and his friends ran as fast as they could. They were not quite in time. They heard the commotion on the grand staircase before they had reached it. Fred and George, who had presumably been walking down for lunch, were running in circles around a rather grim-looking dwarf, whooping and laughing, while the dwarf was elbowing people out of the way to catch up to them.

"Wait, stay still!" grunted the dwarf. "You haven't heard the rest of your message!"

The twins left the staircase to evade their pursuer, and ran across a corridor. The dwarf followed, and so did Harry and his friends. Several other people, who were witnessing this were either laughing or cheering the twins for managing to get away.

"Do you reckon they already have the map?" asked Ron.

"I think so," Hermione said, gasping for air. "Seem… rather… happy… don't… they?"

The twins were caught in the middle of another corridor. They had stopped running as they spotted another dwarf coming towards them from the other end. Harry recognised where they were just as Fred drew back from the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, recognising it as a girls' bathroom. George, too focused on his pursuers to look at the door, blindly grabbed for the handle and staggered in. Fred followed, but once inside, they were caught.

"What's going on in my bathroom?" came Myrtle's voice, as she noticed the intrusion. "Boys! Boys in a girls' bathroom!" she began to shout, attracting attention from students passing along both ends of the corridor, causing something of a holdup.

Laughter could be heard from the students outside. Several tried to peek in. Harry and his friends were closest to the entrance to the bathroom, but dared not go in, afraid that the twins might guess who sent them the valentine.

"Right," said the first dwarf, standing at the entrance to prevent the boys inside from escaping. "Here's the rest of your valentine:

"Keep me close to your heart and never let me go. Keep me a secret from your closest friends — or I'll leave you. Again."

"Ooh, a valentine," said Myrtle gleefully, then fell silent. "It's Valentine's day, is it?" she went on in a much more mopey tone. "But of course no one would remember to send me a valentine. Who would remember moaning, mopey Myrtle, stuck inside her bathroom!" Heavy sobbing could be heard.

The students outside dispersed quickly. No one wanted to be around when Myrtle was having one of her episodes.

"Oh, but we did," said one of the twins, unexpectedly.

"We did? Yes! We did. The, er, cupid will get here in no time at all—"

"You're horrible, horrible boys, taking me for a fool!" wailed Myrtle. "And you're still in a girls' bathroom!"

"We're leaving, we just wanted to, er, see you before you receive our valentine—"

"To let you know it's from us!"

"Yes, exactly. Our sister, Ginny, made us promise not to forget. She even wrote it in her diary."

"Oh! Yes! And if you've seen it around — the diary — you can check — Have you seen it around?"

By this point, the three friends outside the door were listening with rapt attention, trying to catch every word.

"The bratty-looking ginger girl?" Myrtle finally began to answer after a pause. "Is that your sister? Haven't seen her in a while. Last I saw her, she made a horrible ruckus in front of my bathroom. I heard voices, and when I went to look, the ginger girl was talking to that bucktoothed Granger. I didn't want to talk to them — I was busy thinking about how unfair everything is — but they only left after shouting and running — and more shouting. That Granger girl is so, so — exhausting. Do you know her?"

"Er, yes—"

"Oh, well—" Myrtle did not sound at all apologetic.

"Did she have her diary with her, do you remember?"

"Possibly," was the careful reply. "But I wouldn't need it, would I, if I really do get a valentine from you."

"Well, no… But it does have some — interesting — things to say about Hermione Granger, I think—"

"Oh, really?" Myrtle sounded very happy to hear this.

"Er, yes — And we'd love to read what's written inside as well. So if you do know where it is—"

"Well, I don't! And I still don't have a valentine—"

"Right, yes! We'll…"

The voices stopped, and Harry and his friends began to scramble away from the door.

"Don't bother hiding, Ron, Harry!" came one of the twins' voices, before they had stepped outside of the bathroom.

"Hermione, you too?" said Fred, once they had spotted the three second-years.

"Er, we — we—" she said.

"You three are—"

"Full of surprises."

"And not always of the pleasant kind. But we did promise a reward—"

"What? I don't know what you're talking about—" said Ron.

"Save it," said George. "You don't want to admit to anything—"

"We get it. So, the diary—"

"It's the only thing we know you want—"

"So that'll be your reward."

There was a pause. The twins looked at them with shrewd expressions.

"We'll ask around—"

"And let you know if something turns up."