With such excitement the first week of February, it was no surprise that the group was blind-sided by the approach of Valentine's Day. Only the early delivery of cards from Hermione's parents brought them to the awareness that the holiday was upon them.
At Draco's suggestion, they quickly requested an assortment of muggle confectionery to be gifted each housemate in their year. Prefects were presented with a slightly upscale version of the same. These actions were highly appreciated by both the non-magical students enjoying a familiar sweet and those from wizarding families discovering tasty treats not of their world.
While Hermione had predicted that the boys would be inundated with candy, she was taken aback at her own popularity. "Told you so!" Draco chortled later as she ran tests over the gifts. Snape had advised them that every year there was at least one attempt to slip a love potion into edible gifts.
Blushing, she continued waving her wand. "It's so different from when I was in primary school," she admitted. She frowned and repeated her movements. "This one," she picked up a container, "has a slightly abnormal reading. Almost like it's not quite adulterated."
"Maybe the guilty party weakened the dosage so any behavioral changes would be more believable." Neville neared the table. "Whose is it?"
"I'm doing Harry's now." She turned the package over. "There's no tag."
"Yo, wonder boy!" Draco called. "Do you remember who gave you this?"
Harry shrugged. "That one arrived with others in a bundle. Maybe they were all from the same house?"
"Well, we can discount Gryffindor and Slytherin," Neville mused. "The Lions would be brave enough to hand them in personally, and the Snakes–sorry, Draco–wouldn't want to give any possible advantage in case of confusion like this."
"So, either your house or mine," Hermione concluded.
He shook his head. "I think Hufflepuff–our year, especially–is too fond of fair play to try and cheat."
"Naturally it's going to be up to me to sort this out," she grumbled.
Draco couldn't resist tweaking her. "You'll have to check the boys who didn't send you one as well as all the girls."
Harry dropped into a chair and let his head fall against the neck rest. "Why is it always me?"
"We know that," Neville snarked. "What I want to know is: why was Peeves serenading the Great Hall with muggle love songs?"
"And how did he split himself to sing harmony?"
Hermione ducked her head to hide a smile.
The two boys flew up through the open trap door. "Mission accomplished," Draco whispered.
"About time," Hermione replied in a low voice. The music triggered by the underage charm was still playing. "If you hadn't shown up soon, I'd have fallen asleep myself."
Harry turned to the blond and commented, "Quite a difference from the last time we visited." Hovering, they watched the girl idly scratch behind one of the dog's six ears while she reclined on one massive shoulder.
"Without the pressure to keep him from waking, I found he's sort of sweet," she claimed. "Plus, his snores aren't nearly as loud as Weasley's were in Binns's class."
The Gryffindor tilted his head. "You're right. Where's Neville?"
"Over here." His muffled voice came from the far corner of the room. After a moment he side-shuffled himself between another head and the wall, patting the damp nose as he walked by.
Draco rolled sideways on the broom to tweak a clear plastic bag from the boy's shoulder pouch. "What is this? Doggy fur?"
"And nail clippings and drool." He shrugged at the blond's revolted expression. "I'm going to offer them to Professor Snape for potions, although I may send some of the fur to Tsuemoto-san. He might find a use for them as wand cores. The stone?"
Harry held up a large ruby-coloured gem, uncut but visibly crystalline. "It popped right out of that spooky mirror and into my pocket. Some hiding place!"
The Headmaster observed with perplexity the Great Hall during the evening meal before Easter break. Normally strain would be evident, as studying for OWLs and NEWTs was beginning to heat up. Instead, students were laughing at the antics of a dismembered Peeves; his head and torso were floating around the room as he cavorted with Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. The frisky sprite kept declaring, "It's just a flesh wound!"
He turned to address the rest of the staff. "Has anyone else noticed something 'off' about our resident poltergeist lately?"
"Do you mean besides the fact that he updated his repertoire?" Snape inquired.
"Yes, his old tricks and taunts had become a bit trite and dated," Quirrell commented.
Sprout nodded and confessed, "Although I'm not sure what he means when he keeps asking me 'Who's on first?'"
"And I'm not certain, with the student response we see in front of us, why he claims that he 'can't get no satisfaction'. Poor grammar is what he 'can't get'," Flitwick muttered.
"How can the spectre have good grammar when he hasn't even learned the entire alphabet?" Dumbledore leaned forward. "I think he's affecting our students also."
McGonagall gazed over her spectacles. "What do you mean, Albus?"
"He was in one of the halls the other day, leading them into various contortions, shouting out 'Y! M! C! A!'"
Professor Burbage pounded Quirrell on the back when his pumpkin juice went down the wrong tube. Snape, clenching a white-knuckled fist, managed, "Albus, that was a song with dance moves of a sort. Next time you venture out into the muggle world, check out a group called 'The Village People'. You may find their fashion sense inspiring."
Shortly after the holiday Hermione admitted defeat in her foray as potions investigator, and the group simply agreed to remain cautious when offered edibles in the future. Luckily, the remainder of the term proved to be fairly uneventful.
They opened the meeting room for study each evening, as long as at least one of the four was present. Refreshments were provided but not to the extent of the introductory soirées; this was decided to keep from attracting Ron every night.
As for the youngest male Weasley, an amount of behavioral change was observed. Testimony at Sirius's long-delayed trial had shaken the entire clan of red-heads. The realization that, but for Harry's defeat of the Dark Lord, the Weasleys could have ended up on the defence side of the courtroom for harbouring a fugitive saw the boy back off his pushy overtures; Ron now appeared satisfied to be a mere acquaintance and roommate of 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. To the regret of those who sat at the Gryffindor table, his manners while eating remained unimproved.
More interactions between the houses meant it was not unusual to see friends sitting at house tables not their own during meals. Older students slowly followed the first years' example, and by June at least half a dozen inter-house romances were reported.
Once the Scottish weather warmed up, more students joined them in their outdoor exercises. Football games recommenced, with more upper-year participation than before, and pick-up Quidditch matches allowed all years to compete and let Harry and Draco display their flying skills. The fencing lessons continued, and the older students pressed for a magical duelling club; this was promised for the following year if they could acquire sponsorship and provide a list of goals to Professor McGonagall before the end of term.
More sports of muggle origin were introduced, with croquet being the most popular; the course utilized the expansive lawn and ended up winding two-thirds of the way around the castle.
During the final meeting at Hogsmeade, Steadman instructed the students to list their accomplishments for the year.
1. Improved the quality of education (Binns).
2. Involved more students in sports (than previous years) and thus increased overall physical fitness.
3. Began to break the artificial walls between the houses.
4. Protected students from danger due to the ill-conceived obstacle course.
5. Got justice for Sirius Black.
"Even without Mr. Malfoy's dubious claim to saving students' eyesight because they replicated your phosphor lamps in the House common rooms, I believe I can safely say that Her Majesty will consider your first year a success," he stated after they presented their conclusions.
"How long must we put up with the headmaster?" Hermione asked bluntly.
The man's eyes slid to the side. "There are things going on in the non-magical realm which are taking up the Queen's time," he informed them. "As Albus Dumbledore is so firmly entrenched, she does not believe it wise to proceed if she cannot give the affair her full attention." He raised a hand at their exclamations of protest. "The gathering of evidence will continue, and I assure you that, when she gives the word, he will be taken down."
"Hard, I hope," Neville asserted with uncharacteristic harshness.
"Amen to that," added Hermione.
By the time the Express arrived in Hogsmeade, Draco had finally got the crowing out of his system for Slytherin's claiming of the House Cup.
In the carriage to the station, Harry shut him down by insisting that the competition would have been closer if Gryffindor had fielded a better Quidditch team. "Towler is blinder than I am without my contacts," he affirmed. "I saw the snitch half an hour before him every game."
Neville grinned. "Well, they will be better next year when you're their seeker. Of course, with Draco as chaser for Slytherin, things might even out again." The boys had decided that waiting until summer to make the decision to try out was unnecessary.
"Sure of yourselves, aren't you?" Hermione sniffed. "Are you joining them, Neville?"
"No, I thought I'd stay earthbound along with you. Someone has to be in the stands cheering for them, after all."
She turned to Harry. "I hope visiting Mr. Black won't keep you from coming to France with us this summer."
"I wouldn't miss it," he smiled at her, "and I've given the dates so they can schedule the sessions around the trip."
"Yeah," Draco teased, "plus he heard that the ladies don't wear swimsuit tops there."
Harry feinted a punch at his head before continuing. "He contacted an old schoolmate to help get his house ready to move into when they release him from care."
"Any timeline on that?" Neville asked. He was only staying a few days with his grandmother before spending some weeks at Malfoy Manor.
"No, and I don't think it's going to happen until he can accept that Professor Snape and Uncle Lucius are on our side."
"Mother says that Blacks have always been stubborn as hell."
"I'm sure she did not phrase it in that manner. Don't think I haven't noticed how your use of bad language has increased this year."
"Hermione, we're twelve now–well, most of us are. Surely we're allowed to use some adult words."
"There's just no creativity in simple profanity," she complained. "Show some originality and I might cut you some slack."
"You hear that, guys?" Draco gave them a delighted look as they arrived at the station. "She wants originality; we'll show her originality."
"What have I done?" she asked plaintively.
As soon as the last carriage passed the Hogwarts gates, Hagrid hurried inside the castle to free Fluffy and reacquaint him with the outdoors. He felt a slight twinge at the Cerberus's delight but shook it off as he headed to inform the headmaster of a 'situation'.
"The trapdoor's gone, Perfessor," he told Dumbledore. "Dunno what happened to it."
"This is something I must see for myself," he replied and made his majestic way to the third floor. McGonagall, having heard the groundskeeper's bellow, apprised Snape, and they accompanied the pair.
"Ah, a small runic array on the door. Severus, if you please."
The potions master waved his wand, and the disc became visible and was summoned into the headmaster's hand.
"Most ingenious!" The man examined it through his enchanted glasses. "Not quite Tom's style, but the boy was always clever. Now, let us look at Fluffy's abode."
There was still a slight doggy smell to the room, but it was clear that the floor was solid. McGonagall peered closely then waved her wand. The trap door shimmered back into visibility. "Ingenious is indeed the word," she agreed. "No apparent way into the Devil's Snare drop or farther."
"What a singular disappointment," Dumbledore muttered.
Two heads of houses stared at him in astonishment. "I dinna see how ye can be disappointed that no child was harmed by those fool creations," McGonagall spouted in dissent.
The headmaster drew straight his frame, ignoring the crepitation of his joints. "I am sure you have misunderstood, Minerva," he stated stiffly. "Of course, it is not the first time."
Snape and the transfiguration mistress exchanged looks as Dumbledore strode out of the room, followed by the lumbering Hagrid.
"The children, do you think?" he queried.
"Advanced though they be, this level of magic is beyond them," she admitted.
"But not if they had the assistance of their guardian," he reminded her. "Either of these," he picked up the second rune-covered disk, this one of wood, "could have been prepared ahead of time and activated by any of the four."
"Do you know, Severus," she smiled, "I have little doubt that the next few years are going to be...interesting."
It had taken a few days of ruminating on the situation, but Dumbledore believed he had finally solved the mystery.
"Voldemort found my challenges too strenuous for himself. Now, normally, it would be a bit of nothing for him, but he must yet be in a severely weakened state. Those two clever pieces of magic were not for the children's safety, but a way to ensure that no one else could claim the prize." He looked at Fawkes as if for advice. "I feel as if we should devise another method of attracting him to the stone, don't you think?" Receiving no response besides a disgusted squawk, he settled himself into his comfortable chair and relaxed.
Little did he know of the Howler making its steady way to Scotland. The nobles' owl had finally tracked down the perambulating Flamels and delivered both the package and explanatory letter. The French couple had not been amused.
A/N: Some may feel that the second term was portrayed in a rushed manner. Considering that the danger of the third floor traps was nullified, students were able to enjoy as ordinary a term as Hogwarts could provide. As always, I would like to convey many thanks to those who expressed enjoyment of my fanciful variation on Ms. Rowling's wonderful universe. Coming soon–Noblesse Oblige: Expansion.
