Chapter 4: The Bayesian Conspiracy

Harry glanced at his Auror mirror, only mildly disappointed when the message said, I'll be fifteen minutes late.

He'd anticipated this, and even planned his meeting around it. He sent back his message, Don't worry, come when you can.

He put away the mirror, and turned back to the classroom, where fourteen students with inquiring minds were waiting for him to speak.

"The first meeting of the year commences," Harry began. "Welcome to the Bayesian Conspiracy!"


Hermione's robes shuffled as she walked briskly to the meeting, trying desperately to smooth the mess of her tangled hair. It had taken her a lot longer than expected to break the hexes that some idiotic teenager had placed on the Lake of Hogwarts, even with two swipes of the Time-Turner. Hermione could have given herself another 30 minutes to get ready, but Madam Bones' scathing admonition about her misuse of the object still stung in her ears. She didn't want to give her any more reason to consider taking it away.

But it helped that she could move fast.

Hermione dashed down the hall to a rarely used corridor, ducking into a bathroom to clean the mud off her skirt and jacket. Then she raced up some stairs, spotting a set of double doors with a hand-written sign that said simply, "Science Club."

As Hermione got closer, she saw some new words forming on the sign, which she recognized as disappearing ink. It looked like notes from the club members.

Come in feeling confused, leave feeling even more confused!

Don't worry, it's not a cult (probably).

Come for the free stuff, stay for the science!

Do you like feeling smarter than everyone else? If so, you're in the right place.

It's great if you like surveys.

Before BC, I had a life.

Wait, why do we have so many surveys?

Hermione chuckled, wondering what Harry thought of this. She opened the double doors.

Inside, she found Harry Potter and his group ripping pages out of books.

He noticed her a moment later, and his face went pale. "Hermione! Uhh…this isn't what it looks like! There was a page in our physics books that was very wrong, so we were just taking care of the problem."

"Oh…well…" said Hermione, her voice catching a little. "I suppose that's all right, then."

"Here, umm, take a seat anywhere you like," he said, gesturing to the empty chairs in the large classroom. The students were taking to the task with gusto, casting fire charms to send the pages up in flames. Hermione also noticed that most of the club members were boys.

Harry floated a book over to her, and she took it with her to a seat near the window. Dean Thomas, who sat next to her, gave her a smile. "Long time no see. Some of this stuff can be pretty esoteric, so let me know if you need help…oh wait, nevermind, you're Hermione."

She smiled. "It's nice to see you again, Dean. Now, which page are we ripping out again?"

Once the page ripping was completed, Harry recommenced with his physics lesson.

He briefly explained some concepts involving electricity and magnetism, and Hermione thought his explanation was clear and thorough, if a bit too rushed. He leaped over some magnetism concepts that should have been processed more slowly, with reference to diagrams. But when he asked for questions, Padma wanted more explanation, so he drew the diagram.

Harry then sent everyone off to solving some practice problems in the text. It felt strange, but Hermione decided to play along with Teacher Harry. She solved her problems quickly without any help, which was somewhat reassuring to her, since she hadn't picked up her maths books in at least a month. She was embarrassed to admit, but she hadn't even had time to read most of her schoolbooks.

Teacher Harry walked around the room, looking over everyone's work. When he passed Hermione, he said, "Well done," and put a sticker on her page. A sparkly rainbow unicorn. She made a face and glared at him, but his back was turned, already moving on to another student.

As everyone finished their practice problems, more students arrived. They took seats without bothering to grab a textbook, usually after raiding the snack table. Finally, as the clock struck 3:00, Harry wrapped up the lesson. He said, "Now, it's time for the Bayesian Conspiracy's goal: to crack open the secrets of magic using the scientific method. We have a few outstanding projects, so I'd like to allow their team captains to speak, updating us on any progress. Team Gameboy?"

Dean stood up, his face grave. "We've tried a few experiments, but most of them conclude that the device simply doesn't function in Hogwarts."

"Yeah," said Seamus Finnigan. "We brought it outside to test it, but the results were similar. It did turn on for a second when we brought it near the Hogwarts Lake."

"Well then, based on what we learned today," said Harry. "Is there a way we can look at this problem from another perspective?"

Padma raised her hand. "We just learned about how magnets can disrupt electricity, and that a large pulse of magnetism can theoretically take out the electrical generators of an entire city. Maybe magic is providing some interference to the electrical currents in the Gameboy?"

"That's a possibility," said Harry, leaning back against his desk. "How can we test that theory?"

"We could take the device to a rarely used section of the grounds," said Seamus. "We could leave our wands and all other magical devices in our rooms. Since we can use the Gameboy in Muggle areas—like a bus stop—I think it's safe to say that wizards aren't carrying enough magic inside them to disrupt the object."

"We could also test to see if magic is any way at all related to magnetism," said Dean. "Do you have any books I could borrow about magnets, Harry?"

"A few," he replied. "I'd be happy to lend them."

Chin resting on her hand, Hermione watched this exchange with amusement. She wondered if Harry had chosen the subject of this lesson on purpose to elicit this conversation. He was sneaky like that.

Harry's classroom tossed around a few more ideas before they moved on to another project: Padma's Extendable Ears. "It doesn't make sense to me that we can have spells that throw our voices, but that can't throw sound towards us. I'm going to keep studying that spell, and the books on imbuing objects with magical attributes. I should have some progress on that by the end of next week."

"Thank you, Padma," said Harry. "If you need any help looking over the research, let me know."

"I think I'll be okay on my own, but thanks," she said.

Padma went back to whatever book she was reading. Hermione blinked. It was like looking at what Harry would be if he'd been born a girl.

One Ravenclaw boy went on and on about his project to update the prefect system so that worthy people could be chosen, and Hermione could see Harry trying very, very hard not to snap. Finally, one of the other boys said, "This forum is for idea generating, not whining. Sod off."

Hermione noticed that the once half-empty room had started running out of seats, the number of students swelling to almost a hundred, with stragglers trickling in every second.

Suddenly, a sharp crack resounded as the Weasley twins made their entrance, their whiz bangs sputtering over the crowd. "Hello, friends of Hogwarts!" said the boys. "Do we have a deal for you!"

There was a good deal of cheering as the twins bowed, then hopped and somersaulted to the front of the room.

Hermione looked to Harry, confused as to why he hadn't said anything about their hijacking his meeting. He just stood there, arms clasped behind him, watching the scene unfold.

"As always, the same deal still stands," said George brightly. "If you give us ideas for things you want us to make, we'll let you test out some cool new stuff. Now, who wants to go first?"

Ten hands raised in the air. Fred called on one of them.

"How about a quieting charm that can be used against one person?"

"Already in production! It's called Zippy Lips. We'll bring it out for testing soon!"

The students cheered, and the Ravenclaw slumped into his chair, folding his arms.

George called on another student. "How about a magical object that will help you win a fight?"

"Yeah," said Michael Corner. "Especially against Slytherins. If you lose your wand in a fight against them, you better pray to Merlin you don't end up in St. Mungos afterwards."

"Interesting. What sort of object?" asked Fred.

"How about a machine gun?" suggested Blaise. "I don't understand why wizards don't use those. Six hundred rounds per minute is a win condition, period, not to mention it's child's play to enchant shield breaking bullets. It's like I'm the only person who thinks around here."

"Yeah!" said Seamus. "And what about explosives? You could design one that contains fire inside, and when it blows up—"

"Umm," Harry interjected. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes LLC does not deal in Muggle weapons."

"A lot of things can be weapons," said Blaise nonchalantly. "Hufflepuff bones can be weapons."

Hermione stifled a chuckle at Harry's insulted look. He really would never live that one down.

"Well, what about a Muggle inspired weapon that is geared toward defence?" asked Dean. "Something that won't hurt them, but will give you a chance to escape if you lose your wand." Dean was rummaging around with some papers. "I heard about this thing called flash bangs that Muggle police use for crowd control. It sets off a really bright light and sound that disorients the enemy."

"Remember how Tonks was able to cast that spell that made the Hufflepuff almost drop his wand?" said Ernie MacMillan, who was the new Hufflepuff Prefect. "No one could hear anything, but I bet it was a spell that made a really loud noise."

"Hey, Padma," asked Dean, leaning back in his chair to look at the girl two rows behind him. "Could we put that spell in a magical object, do you think?"

She barely glanced up from her book. "Probably. Except you'd unleash the spell on yourself too, and then you'd both be in agony on the ground."

"Well, well," said Fred, stroking his chin. "This is a fascinating idea! While Harry's right, and we're not into dealing with weapons-"

"Or any sort of dangerous magics—" added George.

"We have no problem whatsoever with anything involving defence and pranks, no matter how mischievous. We'll give it a go. Next?"

A 7th year from Durmstrang raised his hand. "I'd like a portable swamp, please."

"And you want that because…?" said the Gryffindor sitting beside him.

The Durmstrang student shrugged. "For my pet alligator."

There was a moment of reverent silence. Hermione couldn't tell anymore if the Durmstrang students were just joking around, or if they really were that level of badass.

The Weasley twins called on a few more students, while Harry stood behind his desk, hands folded in front of him. He had mentioned in a letter to her that he'd partnered up with the Weasley twins, though she hadn't expected he would do it quite like this.

Watching the three of them up there together, the comparison was like night and day. Harry's dark hair and neutral expression practically camouflaged him into the wall behind him, whereas the fire-haired twins lit up the room with their infectious energy and enthusiasm. Still, Hermione found her eyes drawn to Harry, wondering what he was thinking. The fourth or fifth time she did that, he caught her gaze. She looked away, her heart pounding like she'd gotten caught doing something illegal.

"Great ideas, everyone!" called one of the twins, probably George. "And now it's time for the goodies!" He dug his hands into the bag at his side, drawing out more boxes than it should have been big enough to hold. "Hands up if you want to be the first to try a Dungbomb!"

The boys tossed the items into the babbling crowd of students, who darted out of the seats and into the aisles. She wondered how the twins made a profit when they were giving their items away, even if it was only their test products.

A form suddenly appeared in front of Hermione, and she took a closer look. On it was a list of the Weasleys' products, along with a brief description and a moving picture of the product in action. Running beneath some of these items blinked little red warnings, "Only 5 left in stock!" "Back for a limited time!" Along the bottom ran a mysterious counter that was ticking down from 1000.

Hermione turned to examine the room, and noticed that many of the students were hunched over their desks, scribbling madly. The Weasleys' didn't have their own store yet, so it was like one of those Tupperware party things her mum hosted, where the only way to buy the product was if you were invited by a seller…

Hermione glanced at the ticking countdown. It was a time-tested rule in economics that when something seems scarce, you want it more. People also like owning things that make them feel like part of a club. Two of the sold out products were just clothing items with the Weasley logo on them. Hermione did a little mental math, calculating at maybe half a galleon an order (or about twenty-five pounds), times 100 students…

"Orders over 2 galleons get a limited edition t-shirt!" announced George. The students cheered and kept scribbling.

Hermione glanced over at Harry, who was checking his watch.

"Alright, boys and girls, time's up! Hand in your sheets in 3…2…1!"

The counter at the bottom of the page hit zero, and the sheets vanished in a puff of purple smoke. A girl in the back, probably a 3rd year, stood up, her hands on her hips.

"Excuse me, but you said we'd be getting a certain potion—"

"Next time, my dear!" George cast a quick glance at Harry. "At a soon to be disclosed location! For now, please keep your eyes and ears open for details about the next event, and as always, happy pranking!"

The twins left to the noise of thunderous applause, and then it was Harry alone. "Before you leave," he said. "Please fill out this short survey about your thoughts on the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and your interest in creating your own pranking materials."

A few students got trapped into completing the survey, and the rest ran off. Some of Harry Potter's students, the boys she'd known from her Quirrell's army days, stayed behind to chat. Hermione felt someone tapping her shoulder, and it was a 2nd year boy who shyly gave her a box of Weasley chocolates. Two seconds later, a group of 1st years attempted to drag her to the Ravenclaw common room.

"I'm sorry, but I can't heal your pet owl just by touching her," Hermione insisted. "Why don't you take her to Madam Pomfrey, or Professor Sprout?" Despite her protests, they kept following her around like ducklings until she promised to visit the owl.

It was a few minutes more before the last stragglers left, and Harry kept glancing over at Hermione, as if anxious she might disappear. Hermione felt a pang of guilt, since she hadn't made much time for him lately.

"So," asked Harry, turning to Hermione as the last of his friends left them. "What do you think?"


For once, Harry was anxious to see his friends off, and to finally be alone with Hermione. He needed to know her verdict.

But now that he'd asked the question, he could only wait impatiently for her answer. In his mind, her response vacillated between indignation, (You're making money off the students, Harry?) to condensation (A joke shop? Really? You could be doing so much better.) In the best case scenarios, it was mild approval, (At least you haven't left a smoking crater where Hogwarts should be.)

He didn't know why the Hermione in his mind was so pessimistic. It's not like he cared what anyone else at the school thought of his activities. Perhaps it was because, in the same amount of time, Hermione had achieved near god-tier celebrity status. If they were still rivals, he was losing.

Hermione stood by the window, framed by the gentle rays of the afternoon sun. Her fingers brushed against one of the desks as her gaze swept the room. He was struck again by how her simplest movements could be so graceful. In her letters, she still sounded like the same girl he'd known at Hogwarts, but Harry had read interviews where people raved she was an angel sent from Heaven. Perhaps they weren't exaggerating as much as he'd thought. Being near real life Hermione would take some getting used to.

"Well," said Hermione, with a quirk of a smile. "I'm impressed. You finally got yourself some minions."

It took Harry a second to figure out that she meant the Bayesian Conspiracy.

Ahh, so she was going with the unforeseen snarky response.

"Not minions," he said. "Disciples."

"Harry's disciples?" She let out a chuckle.

"Disciples of science," he corrected her. "Though I suppose the other appellation is acceptable."

She turned once more to survey the rows of desks, and then she said, her voice gentle, "Every week, you teach them something different? Is it just physics, or do you…?"

He took a step closer to join her near the window. "I try to vary my lessons. I find that teaching by theme is helpful. So, for example, I'll spend a few weeks teaching calculus, and then the next few weeks we learn physics lessons that make use of those principles. It seems the most effective, based on survey results."

Hermione glanced at him. "Do you like teaching?"

Harry shrugged. "I like passing on my knowledge, and it's nice to know it's useful. It bothered me that every wizard here was learning how to use magic, but didn't understand why it worked. It would be like teaching calculus without proofs. I want to help wizards to think critically and rationally. My lessons aren't what draws them in, though, but that they get to use the scientific method to create things. It's not much, I guess, but it's a start."

"A grassroots initiative," said Hermione, offering him a warm, bright smile. "That's amazing, Harry."

He blinked. "Well…it's not all that. It's nothing compared to some of the other things I did my first year." Like destroying a dementor, for instance. And discovering immortality, somehow.

Hermione shook her head, still with that smile. "Yes, but that was with adults helping you, right? Like Dumbledore and Professor Quirrell, maybe McGonagall even. You had the cloak and the time turner, too. But even without that, you're still a teacher and an entrepreneur. That's not nothing, Harry. You earned that, all by yourself."

Harry was grateful she believed in him, and it actually did make him feel a little better. But it still wasn't enough to be complacent, not when he was faced with his own incompetence in the form of a notebook full of question marks where there should be answers.

He couldn't help but wonder what he would have achieved by now, if he had full possession of his memories and knowledge.

Harry empathized with people who suffered from brain injuries. He couldn't trust his own memory at all. On the night of Voldemort's demise, he remembered attending a Quidditch game, and then his scar was bleeding. He told everyone he saw Hermione rise from the dead, and that he saw Voldemort fall. The next few days were a blur of mourning for losing Quirrell, and concern for Draco and Hermione.

It had always felt wrong. Still, he might have believed this version of events if he hadn't received the letter. As preposterous as the letter was, and as many weird leaps of faith as it required him to make, it had felt right.

Hermione had something in her hand, and she was offering it to him.

"A chocolate?" said Harry.

"Because you had a bright idea, and it should be rewarded," said Hermione, flushing pink. "I mean…it's a little silly, but you did it for me once, so…"

"Ahh," he said, accepting the chocolate. "Why, so I did. Thank you, Hermione. By chance, do you carry Weasley chocolates around all the time?"

"No," Hermione sighed. "A 2nd year boy gave them to me. These sorts of occurrences are just part of my life now."

Harry slipped the chocolate into his pocket. He didn't think the potion had started making its rounds yet, but he would check to make sure.

"So," said Hermione, hopping onto his desk like she owned the place. "Do the Weasleys interrupt your meetings every week like that?"

"Not every week, just when we agree to it," said Harry. "And it's not really interrupting if they're the main reason people show up."

"Well…" she frowned. "Why don't you just have the twins come beforehand, so some of their crowd might stay for the meeting?"

Harry shook his head. "Not worth the trouble. Everyone's excited and unfocused, and I don't need them throwing stink bombs or eating canary tarts and whatnot during my lesson."

"I suppose that makes sense," responded Hermione, with a sympathetic smile. "So, why are you partnered with them? What's your goal?

Harry folded his arms. "I once thought I could think my way out of any situation, and it turns out that's not always the case. To solve my current problem, I need money. A lot of it."

"Err…" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What sort of problem?"

"The problem," They'd agreed not to directly discuss anything regarding immortality unless they'd taken sufficient precautions. Like, 32 secrecy charms level of precaution.

"Oh…right," said Hermione. "What are you planning to do with the money?"

"I intend to found my own space exploration company. I'll need to buy rockets, and those things aren't cheap. I'll have to pay my employees' salaries, not to mention fund my own R&D team. I imagine, if I'm dedicated enough in time management, I'll get there by the time I'm 30."

And I have until then, Harry thought, to figure out why the heck everything magical blows up when I send it into space.

Hermione bit her lip to stifle a grin, but it was leaking out the corners of her mouth anyway. "What?" he asked.

"Sorry, I don't mean to laugh," she said. "It's just so you, Harry. But, anyway, do you really think partnering with the twins will get you enough money? They sell products to wizard children, and well…it's a small market."

Harry nodded. "I realize that. It's just a first step, of course. But I've found a way to make it more lucrative than it would be normally."

"How?" asked Hermione.

In response, Harry led Hermione to the back of the classroom, where another door led to Harry's private office and research lab. Harry walked toward a nondescript area of the wall, waved his wand, and then turned back to Hermione. "Give me one minute, and then you can come in and I'll show you."

Harry stepped inside the closet, waved his wand again over the entrance to seal it. Then he pulled the chocolate out of his pocket and muttered an incantation over it. No Weasley potions detected. Great, now Harry could stop worrying that Hermione was about to develop an unhealthy fascination with a twelve year old boy. Those twins had better hand over the antidote this afternoon like they promised, or he was seriously going to withdraw his funding for the entire WonderWitch line. It's not like he'd wanted to be involved with love potions in the first place.

Harry briefly examined his storeroom, at the long wooden shelves, cupboards, and boxes that held over two years' worth of work. Ashwinder eggs, pearl dust, spellbooks and bubbling potions. It was a treasure trove of all manner of things you needed to cast and create spells and enchanted items. It was vaguely reminiscent of both the Potions classroom and the office of Dumbledore, and further proof to Harry that he was well on his way to becoming a mad wizard.

Looming to his left was one wall of Questionable Items, and Harry decided Hermione didn't need to see that. He still couldn't figure out what some of them did, but none of them looked innocuous, and Harry didn't need another lecture like the one he'd gotten from Neville. Most of them were from Slytherin quests, and Harry was fairly convinced by now that Salazar had to be the ultimate prankster.

Harry set an enchantment over the wall, and then popped his head out of the entrance. "You can come in now…Hermione?"

She was gone.

Harry stepped outside, and on a nearby table he saw a note.

Harry, I hope you're okay. I waited for 10 minutes and you still hadn't come out. I'm leaving to go get help.

Harry checked the clock on the wall and cursed. He'd been in there for over an hour, even though his watch read that only 2 minutes had passed.

I checked with McGonagall and the wards all say that you're safe and in full health. So, my best guess is that you've got some kind of time dilation magic going on, in which case you really ought to fix that. Anyway, see you later, I'm going to dinner. Please contact me and let me know you're safe.

Harry turned back slowly to his hidden storeroom, his blood running cold.

First thing tomorrow, he was moving his wall of Questionable Items.


Roger Davies, a 7th year Ravenclaw, sat among his friends at the dinner table, waiting as McGonagall caught the first name from the Triwizard cup and read it aloud.

"From Beauxbatons, Marguerite Valentine!"

The room thundered with applause, Roger joining in enthusiastically. He didn't know anything about her skills, but he was glad they chose the hot one.

"From Durmstrang, Boris Krum!"

The room thundered even louder, because everyone knew the Krum family was the best at Quidditch and everything else. Roger had seen Boris fight once against Neville, and the beast had almost wrecked the duelling room. He was a hothead, but effective.

The final name floated out of the red flames of the Goblet, and McGonagall caught it in the air. Obviously, it would be Cedric Diggory, the Super Hufflepuff and pride of his house. All the other contenders could just go home.

"From Hogwarts, Angelina Johnson!"

The Gryffindor table was in an uproar, and most of the Hufflepuffs were too stunned to join the moderate clapping from the other houses. Though he was surprised, Roger wasn't unhappy with this selection either. Angelica was a great Quidditch player and a fantastic duellist, and she wasn't hard on the eyes either.

The three champions came forward to stand beside McGonagall. Then, as if someone had cast a great quieting charm, the entire room went completely still. There was a sense in the air that something chaotic was about to happen. McGonagall glanced nervously at the Goblet of Fire. Roger looked at Harry, the most likely culprit. Harry was just sitting at the other end of the table, looking slightly bored.

The moment passed, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Roger smiled, shaking his head. Of course, nothing crazy would happen. That was last year, and those days were behind them.

Once the champion selection was finished, Roger left for the duelling rooms. Quidditch was cancelled for the year, but that still left battle magics. He was going to battle against Dean Thomas today. They were almost evenly matched, but it was fun to fight him. Roger would have to watch out, though, since Dean was probably fired up due to Angelina's selection.

Someone rushed past him in the hall, knocking into him. For a second, Roger thought it was Harry, and he felt a rush of irritation. Then he realized it was a different dark haired boy with brown eyes.

"Sorry," the boy said, leaving before Roger could respond.

Roger kept walking, flexing his fingers at his sides. Roger didn't like Harry. He didn't have anything against him personally, but the Ravenclaw was annoying to duel with. He would counteract all your moves until you had literally nothing to do but fall right into his trap. And the whole time, you'd be under an unbreakable itching charm, so you couldn't stand still. He was so aggravating.

If experience told him anything, Roger knew that Harry was going to try to discover the secret to his perfect shield spell. Ha, well fat chance. He wouldn't even tell Neville or Cedric if they asked. One day, Roger was going to outsmart the Boy-Who-Lived, and then lord it over him until they graduated Hogwarts.

Roger entered the duelling room, and was shocked to see a black haired Ravenclaw girl sitting on a bench, reading a book.

"Cho Chang?"

He watched the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts stand up hastily, brushing a stray silken hair behind her ear as she said nervously, "Hi, Roger! Ahh, sorry, I know you were supposed to meet Dean, but he's busy setting up an impromptu Gryffindor party. Do you mind if we duel instead?"

She knows my name. They were both Ravenclaws, but they hadn't spoken much, except that one time he kept trying to forget about. One day, when he was older, he wanted to marry Cho Chang and buy her all the books she wanted.

"Ahh…well," said Roger, trying to get his brain to work. "Sure, that's fine."

"Good," said Cho Chang, blessing him with her mysterious, kind smile. "I'm not really great at duelling, but I'd like to learn more. Maybe you can give me some pointers?"


Tonks sat on the ground with her legs crossed, surrounded by a flood of parchment.

"I thought I would hate grading, but this is actually an interesting study of the human mind."

Suddenly, Tonks burst out laughing.

"Look at this," laughed Tonks, as she pointed at one of the papers. "The question was, 'How do you tame a boggart?' and he wrote, 'Tasty snacks.'"

Hermione, who was working on her homework beside Tonks, leaned over to look at the paper, frowning. "But the answer was right there in bold at the beginning of chapter 3."

Tonks chuckled. "I don't know what it's like at Beauxbatons, but at Hogwarts we don't read our textbooks. There's no time due to all the other important things, like playing Exploding Snap and fawning over the Quidditch seekers. That's what my friends and I were doing, anyway."

Hermione tried to think back over her last few years. Aside from testing her powers over the summer, and a few hours on weekends, she'd spent the majority of her time studying. It suddenly occurred to her how odd that was.

Although, there was that summer she'd taken a dance class for two weeks. She held on to that, a sign she wasn't a complete nerd.

"Most kids are morons. You're the exception, of course," said Tonks, waving her hand. "And Cho Chang, maybe."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I don't know, I think Harry is…"

"No, he's a moron too. All boys are morons until they turn thirty."

Hermione smiled. "Well, Tonks, not every boy below the age of thirty accidentally sets fire to their moustache while shaving—"

"Hey now—"

"-Or was surprised when he learned that Moon Pies didn't come from the moon."

"Yes, I know I've dated some clunkers," grumbled Tonks. "Get back to your homework, you Puritan."

Things were silent for a moment, save for the scratching of quills. Those moments never lasted long, especially when the reading material was so interesting.

"Huh," said Tonks thoughtfully. "This student answered, 'I don't know.' I wonder if I should give points for honesty. Aww, this one drew a picture of a dragon AND a dinosaur. In colour! Which must be why he didn't have time to answer the last 5 problems."

Hermione laughed. Tonks' energy was infectious, and spending time with her didn't drain her like it did with most people. Maybe it was because Tonks didn't mind letting Hermione be her boring self, sitting here doing homework. Tonks could talk enough for the both of them.

"Oh look, the first student to score above a 60…and, of course it's Neville. He's a sweetheart. You should date him."

"Tonks…"

"Oh, come on, he's a catch!" said Tonks, elbowing her. "He's tall, he's a gentleman, and he comes from a noble house."

Hermione lay down on her stomach, propping her head in her hands, her homework abandoned. "He's too sweet for me."

"That doesn't even make sense. I would just love a sweet, mysterious guy to come and sweep me off my feet. Maybe with a tortured past…" Tonks squealed a little, her hands scrunching under her chin.

"Why do girls always have to talk about guys when they get together?" asked Hermione.

"Because it's fun," said Tonks, glancing over another paper. "Ahh, 59%...so close. I guess I'll be nice and round up."

Hermione and Tonks lapsed into silence, and Hermione stared at the ground, a question growing in her mind like a shadow. She bit her lip, trying to decide if this was the right time.

"Tonks," said Hermione finally. "What are the Auror tests?"

Tonks sighed and set the paper down, rubbing her forehead. Hermione only got more anxious the longer Tonks didn't answer. "Madam Bones told me about them," said Hermione. "But she didn't explain what they were. She said I should go through them soon."

"Of course she said that," said Tonks bitterly. "The woman doesn't know right from left."

"But, doesn't everyone go through them? I should do it, then, sooner rather than later."

Tonks shook her head. "You don't just go through them, Hermione, it…changes you. You have to make choices you never thought you'd make. It tries to break you, and then have to pick up the pieces of what's left over afterwards."

"But, isn't it just a simulation?" asked Hermione, her voice trembling. "Surely, it can't be that bad."

Tonks shrugged. "It's different for everyone. All I know is, it's not something you run into headlong. For now, I suggest you put it out of your thoughts. You won't be going through it anytime soon, no matter what Madam Bones thinks."

Hermione nodded, but the shadow in her mind remained.


Notes:

Comments and reviews make me happy. :)

Hufflepuff Bones:

Harry played a game in Defence class where he listed ten unusual objects in the room for combat. Among his many disturbing suggestions, he said he could sharpen Hufflepuff bones into weapons. And no one ever lets him forget it.

Giving Chocolates:

One time, when Hermione was sad and avoiding Harry, he came to her with chocolates and said he'd give her one to associate him with positive things. Then he gave her another when she had a creative idea, in an attempt to encourage her. That's the reason Hermione decides to give him a chocolate here. :)