Ch. 16- Parents Visit

"You should know your way around by now."

"Beg to differ-" Zoey was quick to counter, "with my remedial school work, it's a wonder I have time to know where to find my pillow."

Scorpius felt the corner of his mouth twitch in mild amusement, but just as soon it drooped into his usual small frown. "I'm aware." After the latest round of tests Zoey had done well in Herbology, Ancient Runes, Charms, and Astrology, surprisingly stellar in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures- but as inexplicably atrocious as ever in Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Transfigurations. Headmistress McGonagall, perhaps insulted her old subject transfiguration improved the least, had decided to double their tutoring hours when she got the report. Much to the frustration of the tutors in question. Scorpius hadn't known Rose's face could become the exact shade of her hair.

He kept losing more and more time for research. He should have had at least another hour in the library this Sunday morning, but instead he had to go straight from tutoring Zoey to the special lesson.

"Why is Hogwarts Castle such a labyrinth, anyways?" Her question pulled him out of his thoughts. "Moving stairs, trick doors, changing corridors- it's like the place doesn't want anybody to even make it to class. Do you think that was the point of it? I mean it's obviously intentional, after all-" she slid down the banister of a staircase, easily landing on her feet and waiting for Scorpius at the bottom. "-I could see a few of them happening on accident, but for them to be everywhere the way they are? They're annoyingly random, sure, but they're too widespread to all be spells gone wrong."

As Scorpius Malfoy descended the stairs with his usual perfect posture and decorum he easily avoided one of the exact 'tricks' she mentioned- a fake step that would give way to trap an unwary walker up to their thigh. For Zoey, he considered her tiny size from her stockings to her once-again blue hair, it probably would have trapped her to her hips. "You forget, Malam, that first and foremost a castle is built for battle. Those 'annoyances' you complain about are strategic."

"Oh?"

"Yes." He said with an air of certainty. "An invading force, even if they managed to get through the magical defenses, will be at a distinct disadvantage in our halls. With the secret passages, rooms, and changing corridors, any attacking force would be easy to pick off with hit-and-run tactics, manageable against even larger scale of forces. Traps that the inhabitants know to avoid as easily as breathing will render opponents defenseless at critical moments, corridors behind tapestries will make for excellent getaways, and the moving stairs will serve as opportunities for escape as well."

"I see." Zoey brought a curled finger up to her lips as she walked, taking that in. "But why keep it this way? As a school their main purpose nowadays is to make people late. Or lost," she added sullenly with an injured air.

Scorpius just looked at her for a moment, then named the obvious. "The Battle of Hogwarts was here."

"Oh yeah." Zoey said as though she actually had forgotten that existed. "So is that how they fought that battle?"

Her query turned his features neutral, a defensive and silent mask that Scorpius had long kept polished when anything pertaining to the Second War was brought up in his presence. The energy in his face dimmed and he withdrew a bit from the topic, in preparation for a pointed jab or remark that almost always came after a seemingly innocent comment.

This preparation was entirely mental- he knew none of it would show in his expression or posture. He knew it. Scorpius Malfoy had schooled his features enough times in the mirror to know that nothing, nothing of his reaction was visible to the eye.

And yet, barely a heartbeat later Zoey apologized. "Sorry. I know- sorry, you always get tense when that stuff comes up in tutoring; I shouldn't have- sorry." She was staring resolutely at her feet as she walked, her blue-and-black stockings clashing against the worn tiles.

"I do not." He informed in a monotone manner, looking ahead down the hallway.

She opened her mouth, obviously on the verge of protesting, but then Zoey showed an amazing amount of tact and nodded. "My bad." She uttered and left the topic as-was, trying to think of something else to say. Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of a familiar alcove. "Hey! Isn't that where we hid last year after I talked to the bust?"

"Yes." Zoey had such a weird way of referring to things. It was more than a bit annoying. He, for instance, would have chosen to call that incident last year 'nothing' and just not bring up the subject at all. It did remind Malfoy of something else, however. "What were you doing here, anyways?"

"As I remember, Malfoy, you grabbed my hand and dragged me in there to-"

"No," he cut her off before someone could overhear that and misunderstand. "I meant 'here' at Hogwarts."

"Oh. Negotiating my transfer for this year."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "Don't you mean 'arranging', Malam?"

"Do I? McGonagall wasn't too keen on having a transfer, let me tell you." Zoey chuckled, remembering the stress of it. "And with all the portraits in her office arguing over each other, it was a wonder we could hear ourselves think." She paused, tilted her head then opened her mouth-

"They're the previous Headmasters of Hogwarts, their opinions are instrumental to instruct people new to the position, and their portraits are a tribute of respect to the their work before they retired." Scorpius cut her off, answering every possible pertinent question he could think of. He smirked at her expression, pleased he'd been the one to catch her off guard for once. "That about cover it?"

Zoey blinked, her expression frozen with her green eyes staring into his silver ones. Then she smiled slowly. "Actually, I was only going to ask what're they going to do when they run out of wall for the pictures."

Scorpius felt his mind short circuit in an increasingly familiar manner and his left eye twitch. He was saved from responding, though, as they reached the Great Hall.

"Malfoy," Nott called out, walking up to them. "How did it go this morning?"

"Terrible." Zoey answered for him with a light laugh at herself, remembering the mouse she'd accidently transfigured royal purple instead of into a snuffbox like she had been trying to.

"He meant in the library," Scorpius corrected her, though his attention remained on his long-standing friend. "Though it could be classified under a similar adjective."

"Library?"

"We have a…" He met Nott's gaze, knowing that whatever word he chose would need to be unilateral as a cover story and close enough to the truth to be helpful. "... private research project. As a group."

"Can I help?"

They both stopped looking at each other to look at her in surprise, then Nott chuckled awkwardly. "Urm, no, we- we got it covered."

Zoey raised a brown eyebrow until it touched her electric-blue bangs. "You don't sound very convinced. What class is it for? Are you presenting it? When's it due?"

"It's private. We're done when we are satisfied, not a professor."

"Satisfied with what, exactly?"

"Our research."

"If it's not for a professor, then why are you researching?"

"Private project." Scorpius said without a trace of stubbornness, though there was something similar to it in his eye. As expected, she growled lightly at his circular responses. He could practically see Zoey preparing another round of rapid-fire questions in hopes of getting a straight answer when she drew in a breath, only to swirl around as her name was called.

"Zoey!"

"Al?" Zoey's response to Malfoy deflated and as she looked over her shoulder. "Oh hey. What's up?"

"Er, not much." Albus Potter slowed as he approached the group, his shoulders rising part of the way to his ears the closer he got. "Just, um, wanted to say hi, is all."

"And for that," Scorpius observed dryly, folding his arms. "It was necessary to yell across the foyer, interrupt our conversation, and rush over, 'Al'?"

Nott blinked mildly in surprise, but didn't comment.

"Well, um, 'hi' and- er- Zoey, would next Sunday work for you?"

She frowned lightly. "Work for what?"

"Hogs-" Albus was practically quivering under the penetrating stare of the two Slytherins. "...Honeydukes."

Malfoy felt his eyebrows rise.

Zoey made another sound effect at the back of her throat, the eager noise a kid might make when promised ice cream later. "Can't on Sunday, does Saturday work for you? After the Quidditch match?"

"Sure," Albus readily agreed with palpable relief, shifting from foot to foot. "So, um, the class is starting soon."

"We know that." Nott said mildly, making no move to leave from their current position.

"Wait-" Zoey looked at her watch, then scowled. "Crackers, I'm gonna be late to the greenhouses."

"Crackers?" Scorpius Malfoy repeated in mild entertainment.

"Oh bad bad bad- maybe I'll make it if I run-" Zoey muttered, turning to leave only to hesitate and point at the giant double-doors. "That does go to the outside, and does not dump the offense into a pit trap filled with snails and cockroaches, right?"

"Right."

"Good." Zoey sprinted off without another word.

"Snails and cockroaches. That," Nott smiled, an image of amusement and deviousness all at once. "Is actually a wonderful idea to keep on file. Think she's ever actually been subjected to it? It would be wonderful data."

"I doubt it," Scorpius's expression held less deviousity for once as he turned and started walking toward the Great Hall, "I'd wager she'd scream loud enough for it to echo for days."

"Any girl would…" He chuckled, the pair of them walking on either side of Albus and continuing the conversation as though he wasn't there at all.

For a few minutes Albus Potter could do nothing but stand and stare incredulously in front of him. Did Scorpius Malfoy just… smile?

"Think of a powerful memory- the happiest you can remember," Britain's Head of Aurors, Harry Potter, instructed a group of Hogwarts Students- feeling a distinct sense of deja-vu as he did. "Allow it to fill you up."

He watched groups practice with a keen eye, meeting Hermione's gaze too from time to time. They smiled at eachother. "Now," Harry continued, "I'm sure you're all eager to know what shape your patronus will take- but remember this is very advanced wizardry. A full bodied patronus is not only difficult to cast, but it is not always necessary. Even a patronus shield can be equally useful against a variety of opponents."

Hermione corrected the wand movement from one of the students, smiling as she did. It occurred to her that, had life been different, Harry or even herself would have been wonderful teachers. She did enjoy passing on the wonders of knowledge.

"However-" the reminiscent moment was shattered as the Dark Arts Professor Sybble spoke up, her voice sweet in a way that almost reminded him of Umbridge. "Like any other spell it is only as strong as your attention span. So Miss Wilson, Miss Adams, I suggest you pay. Attention."

The girls in question started guiltily, turning back to their task instead of continuing to stare at the Harry Potter with dreamy eyes. The hero figure himself wondered if all of Hogwarts' teachers could see through the back of their head like that to scare the skins off their students, or if that was limited to just Slytherin's Head of House.

As the lesson progressed, however, Harry found himself getting discouraged. This was nothing like the old D.A. meetings at all- there were far too many students to keep a proper eye on all of them, and there were many of them that couldn't produce even a wisp of a Patronus.

He found himself nostalgic for the Room of Requirement as well. The Great Hall, while certainly large enough to hold the assembly of Fourth to Seventh Year students, simply wasn't as perfect as the Room would have made itself.

"Like this, Dad?" James called from the opposite side of the Hall and cried "Expecto Patronum!"

"Not quite-" Professor Sybble stepped in, as she was the closest instructor to him. "Your wand movement is too big. You need to keep it much smaller, this spell is meant to be cast very quickly, lad. It doesn't need any sort of theatrics."

Scorpius Malfoy and his friends chortled in amusement at the last comment. The shorter of his friends made a big, exaggerated movement of his next casting then mock-bowed to the others, who pretended to swoon and applaud their amazement.

Hermione's lips pressed together at the sight and she met Harry's gaze, about to step in when Professor Sybble again got there first.

"Mister Zambini, Mister Malfoy- since you seem keen to make a spectacle of yourselves, why don't you demonstrate how you're progressing?"

The boys immediately came to attention and nodded, Malfoy stepping up first. "Expecto Patronum!" he said confidently, producing one of the better shields Harry had seen all day. It was certainly better than James's had been.

"Perfect casting." Sybble reported the same why she might say 'flobberworm mucus'. "Should have been better though." She looked Malfoy over for a moment, but to Harry's surprise didn't ask what memory he chose. "Zambini."

The other boy stepped forward at her direction and cast the spell, nowhere near as confident as Malfoy had been when he cried "Expecto Patronum!" with a crack of adolescence in his voice. Still, to the shock and gasps of the onlookers, from his wand streamed a steady, strong shield.

"Good work." The Dark Arts Professor nodded, raising her voice "And this, students, is the difference a powerful memory can make with emotional magic such as this. Skill and technique will get you only so far- to make significant progress, you must select something very important to you."

Zambini blushed and was very careful not to glance in the direction of the girls in his friend group until the color faded.

Sybble corrected some of the finer points on his casting technique, then moved on.

A few minutes later Hermione had worked her way back near Harry, where she whispered under her breath "Is it just me, or is Professor Sybble trying to teach over us?"

"A bit," Harry admitted with a distracted frown, gazing through the groups of students.

"What are you looking at, Harry?"

"Him." Hermione followed his gaze to look at the History of Magic Assistant, who was sitting against a wall and watching everyone with a discerning eye. "What was his name again?"

"Assistant Orion. Why?"

"There's something… off, about him." Harry frowned, not quite able to describe the feeling in his gut. Hermione might have taken that a bit more seriously if he hadn't continued with "He almost reminds me of Malfoy. Draco, I mean."

Hermione gave a longstanding sigh as she walked off to continue teaching. "Really, you and Ron…"

Albus noticed the focus of his father's attention with curiosity, elbowing Rose. "Hey- what do you think Dad wants with the Assistant?"

Rose looked nervous, shifting around and pulling at a ringlet of her hair. If she were still a kid, she'd be chewing on that strand the way she used to, Albus realized. He forgot his curiosity about the Assistant. "What'sa matter?"

"Just- just stress," she waved his worry off in much the same manner her mother just done to Harry Potter, wishing she could get rid of the knot in her stomach just as easily. James had made her swear not to mention anything about Zoey and Orion to anyone since they shouldn't go around making accusations without proof, but Rose had never hid anything from her mom before and the guilt was practically eating her from the inside.

"...you can still trust me, you know." Albus said quietly, digging his toe into the ground. "Just cuz I'm mad at James doesn't mean you can't talk to me still."

Rose sighed disparagingly in her usual how can you be this ignorant kind of way. "Albus, I can't really talk to you about anything if you won't talk back."

"James." Albus protested mildly, fiddling with his wand. "I won't talk to James."

"And that means you really haven't talked to any of us, doesn't it?" Rose pointed out, "When was the last time you talked to anyone at Gryffindor table? You haven't, all year long! You keep running off at every opportunity, usually all the way to Ravenclaw table, and when you are around all you do is pout!"

"But James-"

"Forget James," Rose huffed, "it was just another one of his pranks. You don't need to make such a big fuss of it."

Albus, to her surprise, set his jaw and straightened his spine, looking at her sternly. "That was not a 'prank', Rose, and you know it. James stopped 'pranking' a while ago. He's been targeting Malfoy and his friends maliciously. I would have thought you, at least, would find offence in that."

Rose opened her mouth, then closed it, properly abashed. "I forgot you knew," she admitted quietly, scratching her nose.

"Pretty hard to forget," Albus retorted, slowly relaxing into the cheery personality Rose was more used to. After a moment he asked bluntly "How much do you like him, exactly?"

She choked midway through casting patronus, looking at him in shock. "What- why do you want to know?"

Albus shrugged, fiddling with his wand again. "Because…" Suddenly his throat was incredibly dry, making him rush his words at the end. "Because… I think he, maybe, isstartintolikeZoey?"

Rose stared at him for a moment. "Say that again?"

"He- you know," he wasn't sure if he could, he was so embarrassed by the subject. "They were… talking to each other, and… Malfoy was smiling."

"You say that like it's unusual."

"Rose, Malfoy doesn't 'smile', he smirks. I can count the number of times I've seen him smile on one hand." He held up just his pointer finger. "Once. This morning. Because of Zoey."

The words sent an uncomfortable jolt through her, and Rose's next attempt at the spell was distinctly diminished. "I'm sure he was just laughing at something stupid she did."

"She's not stupid," Albus defended immediately, "And anyways, I don't think Malfoy would laugh at something like that-"

"Please. Everyone laughs at Zoey. She's like you- too much of a kid for her own good."

A cold silence met her announcement, and a sort of dread filled up inside her as Rose realized exactly what she'd said. She faced Albus properly for the first time in the conversation, expecting to find him staring at the ground and stifling tears, or even a serious anger like earlier… instead, his was meeting her gaze, his shoulders slumped.

"I just wanted to tell you," he informed her after a moment of silence, "because I don't want your feelings to get hurt."

As he turned his back on Rose she was hit with a fresh stab of guilt. "Albus. Al…"

But he didn't look at her for the rest of the day. Somehow, Rose realized, his disappointment bothered her more than his anger would.

Now that had been amusing, Jonovan Malam Orion smiled as he walked through the halls of Hogwarts, Rasputin on his shoulder. An entire hall of students, lead by two of the most famous and supposedly most powerful spellcasters in the wizarding world- and not a single pupil had managed the final stage of the spell. There was already talk about the pair coming back to teach a second lesson.

His fingers stilled as he remembered the raw strength of the stag and otter Patronuses that the instructors had produced for demonstration. A truly fearsome feat; he supposed there was no real surprise that a group of young teenagers would be unable to perform it.

A happy memory, Harry Potter had said. Jon lifted a hand in front of him and concentrated, thinking back for one. As he did he felt his magic rising up inside him like a geyser, ready to heed his command. A memory of something important, he amended as he remembered Professor Sybble's words.

The decision was quick and simple to make; and as soon as it did, pale, silvery mist started to rise out of his fingertips like smoke from a candle. Jon smiled and put more effort into his magic, a shield rising from his hands like a dome. It was easily stronger than any student had managed after a day of 'special' teaching.

He was preparing to make an attempt at casting a full patronus when Rasputin puffed his spikes against his master's neck, just enough to poke the sensitive skin but not pierce it.

Jon heeded his familiar's warning and immediately canceled his magic, looking around. He was no longer alone in the hall; a boy, one of the many redheads, was walking up behind him.

"Orion." The boy called out, walking as though the century-old school was his to do with as he pleased.

That was rather casual. Jon narrowed his gaze as he went through his memory to find the name of the person before him. An eldest sibling, with a younger brother and sister. Generally didn't pay attention in any of his History classes, close friends with two of the other redheads, and pegged as a general troublemaker by the entire teaching staff- and in own his class, the boy was certainly far from a positive influence.

Rasputin hissed softly at the boy as Jon turned. "Mister James. Did you have a question for me?"

James Sirius Potter smiled as he approached, humming lightly. "No. I don't."

"Then a comment? Or concern, perhaps?" Jon prompted, because the sooner he addressed the conversation this kid apparently wanted the sooner he could get back to his practice. He scratched Rasputin in absentmindedly once more.

"No." He said again, walking up to look at him.

Jon stood patiently while he was being sized up, then said dryly "Just enjoying the view, then?"

James started in surprise, then smiled. "No, but I do know a girl who does."

"Instruct her to join my fan club." Jon said dismissively. "I have no interest in a romantic relationship at the moment, particularly not one with a student."

"That so?"

Rasputin hissed louder at the doubt in the boy's voice, his claws digging into Jon's shoulder.

"Yes. It is." Jon reached up to scratch behind Raz's ear in an attempt to calm him down.

"Why?"

He stopped petting his murtlap familiar, a silver gleam in his eye as he said simply. "Family." Rasputin pricked him again to remind him to settle his magic in front of the boy, and Jon did, pinning Jon with a glare. "So however 'pretty' this girl is for you to think that I'll change my mind- you date her."

"But I- she- you…." James couldn't seem to find the right word to say, completely caught off guard. His idea to startle the history professor into revealing something incriminating had fallen dead in the water.

The Assistant smiled pleasantly at his pupil. "Good day, Mister James."

Rasputin grinned a toothy smile of triumph at the boy, turning on his master's shoulder as they continued walking down the hall.

"That- I- I know your secret!" James cried out, his face growing red. He took a step toward the leaving professor, then stopped as he caught sight of a large group of students coming down the hall. Glancing between the two, James turned and walked the opposite direction from Orion.

The murtlap was obviously pleased by that decision.

Oh the poor boy, Jon smiled pityingly as he turned the corner and ignored the feebly cry of the defeated. Once more Jon called up his magic, the silvery mists of a patronus engulfing him without the aid of a wand as his brown eyes and the beady ones of his familiar glowed a matching green... He really had no idea.

Melissa Goyle decided that, for her next extra-credit session in the greenhouses, she desperately needed to attain a set of earplugs. Not for the Mandrakes, mind, but for the endless questions.

"How is a poltergeist made, anyways?" Zoey asked as she carried a bag of fertilizer on her shoulder. "I mean, ghosts obviously come from people, but they're so different. Peeves can touch stuff and go through stuff, but ghosts don't have a choice. And he can make noise, too. Other than moaning, ghosts don't speak. So are muggles right about poltergeists coming from the emotions of unstable teenage girls? Because if that were true there'd be a few hundred in Hogwarts by now."

She grinned, obviously expecting Melissa to laugh at the idea herself. "Ghosts can speak, Malam." Melissa corrected her and was rewarded with a few moments of blessed silence. "Professor Binns?

Then, of course, Zoey's mind started working again. "Reeeeally?" she said at an octave higher, obviously excited by the new information as she brought a curled finger up to lips. "That's amazing! Oooh I thought Binns was just an exception somehow- this is amazing! Can you imagine how much they've got to say? I wonder how they talk- they don't have lungs, after all. Well I suppose they do, same way they have arms, but they don't have proper lungs, know what I mean? Do you think they use magic for it somehow? Are they confined to where they die- ooh, maybe Malfoy was right, that'd be a lot of murders in Hogwarts. Or do they just stay here because wizards won't call in a priest to exorcise them or something silly? Could they go out and haunt Hogsmeade? Or do you suppose-"

Melissa sighed and lowered the bag of fertilizer she'd been carrying, opening it. Even the stench of dragondung was a welcome distraction from Zoey's yammering that persisted no matter how she tried to tune it out. Earplugs, she reminded herself firmly as she set fresh soil around the benign plants. If she had to endure yet another full day of Zoey Malam she'd rather the failing grade. "Is this important?"

"-why they're so cold all the-" Zoey immediately stopped mid-sentence, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Sorry, did I get carried away?"

"Just a bit," Melissa hissed, not looking up from her work.

"Sorry." Zoey apologized, focusing on the plants herself. After a few minutes, though, she started to hum and bob her head to a song that was apparently stuck in her head.

Ooooh Melissa could have strangled her. She might have been more tempted, if she hadn't heard Professor Longbottom's voice coming their way. It wouldn't do for her to commit murder with a witness.

Professor Longbottom had company- one of whom was Hagrid, judging by the silhouette he cast on the windows. He opened the door to the greenhouse. "Miss Malam, could you come out here for a moment?"

"Coming!" Zoey called out, making her way to the front of the greenhouse. When the door closed Melissa gave a sigh of relief. Silence at last.

Zoey took care not to slam the glass door behind her, turning when she was done. "Did you need something, si-irrr…." her voice trailed off as she stared at the group, leaving her hand on the knob as her eyes went wide.

"Ter she is!" Rubeus Hagrid beamed, patting her on the shoulder with a giant hand. "Told yer she'd be here!"

Harry and Hermione watched her jolt under the force of his strength with a considerable amount of empathy. "Thank you, Hagrid." Harry answered, but was interrupted before he could continue.

"She doers grea' in class, lemme tell yer! Haven' had a pupil this good since yer three!" He thumped her a few more times, as though his excitement simply couldn't be expressed any other way. "Ne'er known no one as good with thestrals!"

"Thestrals?" Hermione repeated with a note of dismay. "Hagrid, I thought you took that out of the curriculum. The Ministry still has them classified as dangerous."

"Er, well, I figure' it couldn' hur' to show 'em, so they know what ter look ou' for."

"Hagrid," Neville Longbottom smiled with amusement and sadness, "Most people can't 'look out' for thestrals. That's the point of them."

"Righ'," the big man said, deflating a bit, then cheering up. "We moved ter hippogriffs instead, but Zoey here asked ter keep helpin' me wit te herd! She's doin' grea'!"

With the last word Hagrid slapped Zoey's back hard enough to make her stagger, her grip on the doorknob the only thing stopping her from falling to her knees. She caught her balance and stood up again, seeming to come out of a trance as she looked at the four of them. "You… you're…" Zoey was still blinking in absolute shock, staring at the group. Her eyes jumped from Harry's scar to Hermione's bushy hair, and even to the faint scar across Neville's face from his Seventh Year at Hogwarts with the Carrows. "You're…"

She's completely starstruck, Harry thought with resignation. It was something that he'd learned to deal with over the years. However, it wasn't him who'd wanted to talk to this student.

"I'm Mrs. Weasley," Hermione smiled, holding out her hand. "Hugo's Mum."

"Oh. Oh hi-" Zoey made to take her hand, then stopped and hurriedly pulled off the dragonhide gloves she'd been using in the greenhouse. "Hi." she said weakly as she shook it, looking like she'd want nothing more than to not be the focus of attention at this moment.

Harry could strongly sympathise with that. "I'm sure you know why she's here," he said in an attempt to calm her nerves.

It didn't work. "I- I do?"

Before Zoey could respond beyond that she was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, her face pressed into the curls of Hermoine Weasley's hair. "Thank you for saving him."

Zoey stiffened considerably before she remembered- the kelpie thing, on the way to the Sorting Ceremony. It didn't make her any less nervous, but she did return the embrace, patting Mrs. Weasley's back.

"How did it happen?" Harry asked, still lost on the true story. He'd mostly only heard Hermione's panic over a telephone, and even that had been interrupted by tears of interchanging terror and relief.

"Harry," Hermione chided, "I'm sure she doesn't want to relive it!"

"Actually, ma'am," Zoey's voice was a bit muffled by Mrs. Weasley's thick hair, "Tristan did most of it. All I really did was get bit."

"Who?"

"Where?"

"He's a merman of the lake," Zoey answered Harry as she pulled back her right sleeve in response to the other question. The scabs from the wound had healed long ago, but there were still some faded red lines where the gaps had been thickest. Healer Prin had given her an ointment to rub into it every day to avoid scarring. "He saved me and Hugo."

Hermione was in full-out mother mode as she released Zoey just to fret over the old wound. "That must have hurt."

"Yes." Zoey nodded, used to people gawking over it. A lot of her classmates asked to see it on a frequent basis. When Mrs. Weasley's fingers hesitated over her charm bracelet, though, Zoey pulled it from her grasp and put her hand over it protectively.

Hermione Weasley's face had become very tense. "Those are… interesting charms, you have."

Zoey clenched her hands tighter for a moment, backing subtly until she felt the door at her back.

"Interesting how?" Harry asked, trying to get a look at them but not able to.

Hermione pressed her lips together as she looked at Zoey, pressuring her into telling.

"...Weapons." Zoey answered, with an air of someone giving in to the inevitable. "They're weapons. My mom gave them to me."

Harry and Neville exchanged a look. "How… nice?"

"It's for defense."

Even Hermione looked surprise at that, eyeing the innocuous silver bracelet. "How?"

Zoey looked at them distrustfully, then unclipped one of the charms. A moment later it grew in her hand, larger and larger until she was holding a full-length staff in her grip. One side of it was weighted slightly so that it could be spun easily.

"Oh!" Hermione said in appreciation. "Oh that's wonderful, how is it done?"

"Don't know. Mom made them- they're lighter when they're small, and nothing I know of has managed to damage any of them." She pulled the staff back from Harry's hand before he could hold it, her expression guarded again. Before he could ask to have it she touched the small loop at the top of the shaft to her bracelet, the staff shrinking until it was back to being no bigger than a thumbnail. Zoey quickly attached it to its hook before she dropped it, the way she had dropped the dagger in the lake. "It's best for surprise- that's why mom put a Notice-Me-Not charm on it."

Professor Longbottom looked impressed. "Defense' indeed."

"It's best for surprise- that's why mom put a Notice-Me-Not charm on it." One that seemed to be fading after many years. She made a note to herself to tell Jon about it.

"She must be a wonderful witch," Hermione said appreciatively, thinking over the many spells that must have gone into its creation.

Zoethia Malam looked away from them, silent for a moment. "She was."

All the adults looked at each other uncomfortably at her tone of voice. It was unbearably familiar- and suddenly Hermione realized the obvious, that for Zoey to help Hagrid with his herd of thestrals, she must be able to see them.

And to be able to see a thestral, the girl must have seen somebody die.

Suddenly her possessive behavior over the bracelet made a lot more sense.

Hagrid alone seemed immune to the mood that had saturated the silence. "Yer gonta be a good witch yerself, mind." He patted her back again, once more making her stagger.

Harry stepped in, thinking Hermione might need a bit of help after her faux pas. "I'm not sure if you know, but Hugo's also my nephew. If you ever need help, feel free to owl us."

"Thank you." Zoey said with perfect politeness, but still touched her charms again even as she said it. She'd much rather help herself.

"Oh mine too! Mine too, please? Please? For my mum?"

Albus Severus Potter sighed and took yet another chocolate frog card from the crowd surrounding him, signing it quickly and already walking off even as he handed it back to the girl that'd asked for it.

"Oh and mine!"

"One more?"

"For my cousin, please?"

Albus ran a hand through his messy black hair, feeling like he was caught inside a herd of jackals and not a gaggle of admittedly attractive girls. As he signed the next few- still walking as he did- he almost wished that the patronus lesson never happened. It seemed to have rekindled the school's awe of the Legacy Children and he, as ever, was for some reason receiving the worst of it.

The image of his father as a young man smiled at him from the card he was signing, but ran off as soon as another fangirl squealed. Albus wished he had his own escape just as easily, but he knew he'd have to work a bit harder to regain his freedom. He had to resist temptation to put his fingers in his ears, still making steady progress to his salvation until-

"Bathroom!" He declared with desperation and more than a touch of relief, "I need to use the bathroom!"

There was a chorus of awws at different high pitches, but Albus readily ignored them as he made his way toward probably the one place that the girls wouldn't follow him. He hoped.

"Now, now there's no need to- you don't have to stay at the door like this, I'll just- I'll be in the Great Hall later, yeah?" As he closed the door behind him Albus caught sight of James standing at the back of the crowd, glaring at his younger brother. Then he rolled his neck as though preparing for a fight and reached up to muss his red hair, his round glasses already slightly askew.

"Ladies!" He called with a bright smile, finally gaining their undivided attention as he'd been trying to. "Why don't I escort you to the Great Hall, where we can wait for Severus together?"

"Severus?" One of the girls asked, even as a large group of them readily followed James away.

"Oh, that's his middle name," James said without so much as a glance over his shoulder, though his voice carried perfectly well. "I've been calling him that lately. It's a brotherly thing."

His face growing red, Albus closed the door and quickly pulled out his Invisibility Cloak with rapid, angry motions. Just when he'd been considering that Rose might be right about overreacting, James goes and pulls a stunt like that.

Malfoy was right, Albus decided as he snuck out of the bathroom under the safety of the cloak to avoid being seen by the few girls that had stayed to wait instead of following James. His brother was way more conceited than was right or even socially acceptable, and Albus was not going to talk to him again until he realized that.

He just hoped that Rose would take his advice about Zoey, because if Malfoy- the smart, capable, attractive Malfoy- became serious about liking the transfer… Albus wasn't sure he could compete.

Thanks for the reviews! They make my day; glad that Zoey's getting a good response! Thank you Lucy!

And sorry Yami Umi, my bad. Ever heard of the 50-50-80 rule? It goes like this- if you have a 50-50 chance to guess something, 80% of the time you pick wrong. xP I've also read some animes where Umi was the name of a female character, so that's probably why I got it wrong this time. Glad you liked awkward Albus, he is only 14 after all. Not much romance experience.

-E