Death's True Hallows

by Ensis96

She had electric blue hair and emerald green eyes that twinkled with mirth at their surprise, but what put her even more out of place was her clothing. She had no robe or House emblem, nothing Wizardly about her at all. The halfblood beamed at the Poltergeist of Hogwarts and brightly spoke words that had never once been said: "Hi Peeves, it's nice to meet you!" (A Next-Gen fanfic)

24. Ch 24 Revelations

Ch 24- Revelations

---

"Malam? Malam… Zoethia Malam!"

The girl sat up in her desk with a jolt, her full name triggering a primal fear of being in trouble. A sheet of her notes had dried on her cheek and blocked the view from her right eye, adding to her confusion.

Finding she wasn't at home and not in imminent danger of being grounded Zoey relaxed, prying the parchment from her cheek and feeling its ink smudged all over her face. She put the sheet back with the others and looked at the person who'd woken her. "Malfoy?"

"Is there a particular reason," he started and straightened from where he'd been leaning over her ear, no longer shouting as he had been. "You decided your Defense Against the Dark Arts class was an opportune time to nap?"

"I didn't," she mumbled, trying to rub the ink off her face and not really surprised by her impromptu rest. She knew she'd been exhausted the whole day, her body craving sleep even as her nose, continuously dripping in a persistent cold from her dip in the lake yesterday, had kept her up half the night. Plus her head was pounding with what she called the 'magic migraine', a piercing pain that throbbed with her heartbeat and did not react well to light. She got it when she and Jon merged their magic for too long, though this time it wasn't the duration but the quantity of magic she'd wielded.

She'd been doing her best not to jump guiltily anytime somebody mentioned the 'fireworks' that most of the school had seen go off last night, which is what Hogwarts was calling the light show she'd accidentally discharged while purging Jon's magic. Thankfully, while many had seen the light none had seen her or Jon- she really needed him to teach her that Chameleon spell.

Public opinion was leaning toward the fire coming from Legacies showing off again or some troublemaking group called 'Sneakers' that she'd never heard about before. Zoey supposed that in a school full of magic, there were a lot more immediate suspects than a supposedly squib transfer student and one of their own faculty. For the first time the rumors about Zoethia Malam were actually benefiting the girl herself. Still, she was caught between worrying about getting caught and someone else getting blamed for something they didn't do.

Zoey Malam was physically exhausted, mentally stressed, magically drained, but even with all that she knew she'd stayed awake through Professor Sybble's lecture on counterspells. It may have taken a whole bunch of sugary candy throughout the day and painful pinching to make it to the end of this last class, but she knew she'd done it. She distinctly recalled hearing the bell ringing because it had made her migraine rise in complaint, and she'd blocked her ears to muffle it then put her head on the desk to avoid lights… oh. She looked up at Malfoy. "Would it help if I said it was after class ended?"

"It would explain why Sybble didn't flay you alive," Scorpius answered dryly.

"Hehe… yeah…" the Dark Arts Professor did have her intense moments, but Zoey still liked her overall. She glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. "I'm late! I need to get to tutorin- ah…"

"You were. Except for the one session you missed, this was the first time you weren't punctual."

"Sorry, I- sorry." Zoey looked at him again, realizing he must have come looking for her after she was missing. "Thanks for waking me. I've been dead on my feet today." It was true- she hadn't even had the energy to get upset at the continuing assaults on her person. She'd been caught in a few more magic pranks and continued to be a target for various projectiles, but today they'd upgraded to sending her hate mail. Or at least the wizarding version of it. Owls would fly to her during breaks and meals and drop a half-dozen letters insulting things from her appearance to her apparently 'slutty' personality that 'toyed with innocent and naive people who didn't know better'. None of the letters came with names but she knew most of them came from Leena's circle of friends. They'd said much the same to her on the lake docks yesterday.

"Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" Scorpius suggested, seeing her exhaustion.

She immediately shook her head even as she massaged her temples to assuage her magic migraine. "No." It wasn't anything she hadn't worked through before. She looked up at him hopefully. "But, um, could we go to Dueling Club again?"

He blinked in surprise. "You want to?"

"Yeah!" She grinned, her first spark of energy shining in her eyes. "There were so many spells there I'd never seen; will I learn all of them eventually? And those targets were good too- I liked the way they exploded when I hit them!"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. They- they weren't supposed to do that.

"Oh and I never got to try that obstacle course! It looks awesome! It's a lot of running and climbing and I'm good at that, so- please? Can we?"

He didn't answer for a moment, making Zoey squirm in anticipation. She still had a half tub of Ice Mice stashed in her bag and she was not above bribing him with it.

"We can." He eventually agreed, gesturing to her stuff in a wordless suggestion to pull it together.

Zoey grinned and piled her notes, except for the one that had been too smudged by her cheek. Opening her bag though she grimaced, finding that her candy had melted and smeared liquid sugar all over her textbooks. That wasn't an accident; it was too cold for them to have melted naturally, and the Honeydukes' Ice Mice packaging was enchanted against normal temperatures. Another score for her many assailants.

She opened a side pocket and put her notes in there instead, not mentioning the problem to Scorpius as they went outside. If he'd noticed he hadn't commented on it either, navigating the halls in silence instead until they got outside.

Zoey shivered visibly for the first few minutes they were outside before she got used to the temperature. She was small, and probably a bit underdressed for the snowy weather, but she approached the dueling club with a smile. "Hi everybody!"

The various members looked at silver-haired girl with amusement, those that could waving politely. Rupert and Nott stopped their conversation to greet them, Rupert's greeting notably more heartfelt. "Welcome back."

Scorpius Malfoy nodded in return, more interested in Nott's surly attitude. He shook his head in a way that clearly suggested he didn't want to talk about it, and Malfoy raised an eyebrow that indicated he didn't care about what his friend wanted, he would be told anyways.

Rupert ignored the Slytherins' silent exchange to focus on Zoey. "As soon as Isabelle gets here she'll take over reffing the dueling pits. Go ahead and get to the targets, I'll look at the rest of your spells soon I get there."

"Oh, um…" Zoey blushed. "That, um, those were all of my spells."

There was a moment of silence as Rupert took in what that meant, then he grimaced a bit. "Well then, as Club President I have to warn you that I can't clear you for dueling in our club."

"Excuse you?" Scorpius interrupted at the sentence, surprised that the Hufflepuff was going back on his word to welcome Malam.

"We need to put people with even skilled opponents," Rupert explained, understanding but dismissing his disapproval of how he ran things. If Malfoy didn't like it he was welcome to walk away. "And make sure everyone is actually capable of dueling with enough skill to mimic a fight without actually harming opponents."

Well. It went without saying that nobody else here was as abysmal at magic as Zoey. She twirled the end of her hair around her finger and nodded, her tone carefully controlled. "Makes sense. I mean, it's not like I grew up doing anything magic; stands to reason that it'll take me a while to catch up."

"Oh, you're muggleborn?" Rupert asked, then smiled. "Me too. Finally, someone who won't be saying 'Merlin' with every other sentence."

Scorpius's eyes widened. Muggleborn? The best duelist in Hogwarts was not only Hufflepuff, but muggleborn? After he got over his shock he realized that hadn't exactly been correct. Rupert was the best duelist in the DDC, but there were still some Seventh Years in the grade ahead of him that were farther along with their N.E.W.T.s. The Gryffindor Head Boy Daniel had supposedly been headhunted to join the Auror Ranks by Harry Potter himself.

Zoey was laughing in agreement with Rupert's comment, smiling again. "I know, right? And they think we're the odd ones for liking electricity. I say they never learned the pleasure of a classic TV show."

"I know; I mean seriously, how have they never even heard of Monty Python? Or The Doctor?"

"Oh my god I know, right? The Doctor is amazing!"

"Doctor who?" Nott asked in confusion, a bit unnerved by their matching grins and the laughter that ensued.

Scorpius wasn't entertained either. But, their suddenly friendly conversation gave him the chance to interrogate Nott. Pulling his friend a few steps aside he asked "What happened?"

"Just- don't freak, okay?- but someone targeted Melissa again today. Zambini found her crying in her room."

His lip pulled back in a silent snarl, mentally cursing whoever the Scandals author was and double cursing him for that Squib article. "I thought they were over with that."

"Not over it," the other Slytherin tilted his head toward Malam, "just distracted. How bad's it been for her?"

… he really had no idea. Malam seemed intent on acting as though it wasn't happening at all. First the incident on the lake, which he still wasn't convinced was an accident, and then whatever was in her bag that had made her grimace earlier. Oh he had noticed that, but Scorpius Malfoy hadn't asked about it. Malfoy's did not waste time by asking questions with obvious answers.

He briefly wondered what would happen if her patience hit its breaking point, then dismissed it as a bad eventuality. It's not like she'd be able to seriously retaliate against her aggressors, at worst they would only escalate to muggle violence. Though, he remembered, her mock-punch at least did have a fair amount of force.

"...well," Zoey closed the muggle conversation with a smile, still amused by Nott's accidental quote. "I'll see you later, then?"

"Oi," Rupert asked in confusion, "whaddya think you're goin'?"

She blinked, a bit hurt. "You said I couldn't be here, so…"

"What? No! Gosh not!" the DDC President shook his head. "Just cuz you can't duel, lass, doesn't mean you have to leave. What makes you think that?"

"Um," she counted out her next two words on her fingers. "Dueling. Club. Seems to make sense, Sarge."

"And what do you think the course and target range is for, huh?" he shook his head. "Honestly, they're not decoration."

She grinned, practically bouncing with her returned excitement as she glanced toward the course. "Really?"

"Really really." He said, then thought for a moment. "Nott. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

The authority in his voice as he gave direction made it apparent why he was nicknamed 'the Sergeant'. The two Slytherin's glanced at eachother, then walked Malam to the obstacle course as Rupert went back to refereeing the dueling pits. After walking her there Scorpius changed his mind and decided to practice at the targets instead, not wanting to be sore for quidditch practice tomorrow- they were scrimmaging Gryffindor over the weekend.

Zoey waved him goodbye, then eagerly listened to the description of the obstacle challenges. She'd asked Longbottom in class today and he'd absolutely agreed one hundred percent that the vines would not be hurt by their spellwork, and so she had no reservations about giving it her best.

"You're gonna walk through it before you actually give it a try. Green vines are just green," Nott described, his serious persona back in full force now that he had an audience "The other colors will either attack or are spell opportunities to shortcuts or avoid obstacles you're bad at. Hit the red ones with jinxes, blue with charms, and yellow with stunners. Watch out for the brown."

"Brown?" Zoey asked incredulously even as stepped into the course, watching Nott climb the viewing platforms so he could watch her progress. She winced when the pitch of her own voice aggravated her magic migraine, but didn't let it stop her. "Brown vines in the middle of dirt and plants, in winter, under a layer of snow?"

"Camouflage," Nott agreed sadistically, waving her on. Her huff of annoyance was amusing, and he was surprised to see her pull off her outer robe and leave it hanging on one of the branches.

He decided to utilize the silence. "So, you know Melissa."

"Who?" Zoey blinked and looked up at him.

"Girl who works with you in the greenhouses. Extra credit for Longbottom?"

"Oh- yeah." She grinned and opened up to the subject. Melissa Goyle had warned her not to tell anyone about their working together, but if this guy knew her already there wasn't much point in that. "We have been since the start of the semester. Professor Longbottom was really nice- we're getting better, too! We've moved on from puffapods to bowtruckles. They don't really like us, keep throwing bark… which is odd, since they grow it on their arms. It's like they're throwing their own skin, which is just- ick. If they weren't plants, that would be kinda gross."

Nott snorted with amusement at the comment, "What did Melissa think?"

"... she said I was the one being gross," Zoey grinned sheepishly, then countered "How do you know Melissa? Isn't she a year below you? I mean she's technically a year below me too, but I don't think that counts since I'm also in classes below her. You two aren't related, are you?"

"Do we look related?"

"Not by blood, sure, but you hang out a lot. You, her, Zambini, Malfoy, and the Slytherin Rep are practically inseparable."

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the Representative at her Sorting Ceremony. "Her name is Priscilla."

"Okay."

He raised an eyebrow at her brief response, his guard going up. "Do you have a problem with Priscilla?"

His tone held a harsh warning, but Zoey either ignored or failed to notice it. "...a bit." She admitted, looking up at him as she walked in the course to walk it before giving it a real try. Then she smiled at his expression. "What, why is that so surprising?"

Nott's face had hardened. "Most people aren't nearly so blunt about it." Or if they were, it was usually accompanied by a spell or prank or at the very least a harsh insult.

"I'm not most people," Zoey shrugged, keeping an eye out for the first obstacle. "And really, how comfortable would you be around someone who'd literally seen inside your head and judged your every conscious thought?"

"Wait- you mean- that's why you don't like her?"

"Well yeah." She paused to consider a rickety plank that covered a pit. "Why else? That Ceremony is pretty much the only time I've been around her."

Nott shook his head, absently watching her cross the bridge with effortless balance. If he was being honest Nott would probably avoid anyone she'd been in his head too. He was surprised by how refreshing it was for his friend to be disliked for something she herself had done, though he doubted Priscilla would ever regret stepping up to Represent her House that day.

He watched her approach one of the spell opportunities, a red patch of vines shaped like a flame. If she took it she'd avoid having to climb a rock wall.

She ignored it without hesitation, and Nott gaped as he realised her hands were empty. "Hold up- didn't you forget something?"

"Huh?"

"Um, your wand?"

"Oh yeah that." She looked behind her, already halfway up the wall and holding it comfortably with three limbs. Her gaze was on the robe she'd left behind, and Nott assumed the missing wand was in its pocket. "Do I need it? I'm just walking the course anyways…"

'Yeah that'? Merlin, no wonder Scorpius was having trouble teaching her anything. He'd never met a witch or wizard who didn't consider their wand a part of their arm. He sent a silent prayer of support for his friend.

---

"Care to explain," Priscilla Parkinson asked in a rare instance of impatience, "Why you insist on doing this yet again?"

Rupert was uncowed, folding his arms into a matching stance. "I need to see all the combat spells you may use before I let you duel anyone using our pits. Anyone who uses a spell Nott, Isabelle or I haven't personally vetted during one of our fights is put on immediate probation. Three week minimum suspension, club council reserves the right to kick people out for their conduct. We don't want overinflated idiots waltzing in and getting somebody hurt because they don't have the skill for it."

Scorpius Malfoy, sitting on the fenceline separating the target arena from the rest of DDC, had been watching their exchange for entertainment. It was rare to see someone who didn't bend beneath Priscilla's presence. Plus, if Rupert actually convinced her to perform at the best of her abilities it was sure to be educative. At the Hufflepuff's last comment though he bristled. "You don't think we're skilled enough to duel?"

"I know you think you are." Rupert answered and held his ground, unperturbed by the sudden two-on-one. "But then, so do ten year old's shooting sparks at each other around pillow forts. Everyone here gets combat training from us, mate. No exception."

Priscilla took a deep breath in through slightly flared nostrils. "Do we look like ten year olds?"

He made a show of looking her up and down, smiling. "Not at all."

Despite his agreement Priscilla wasn't pleased with his answer. Scorpius chuckled silently at the idea of Priscilla being pleased with anybody who wasn't giving her what she wanted.

"Plus, we need to find your categories."

"Categories?" The girl asked warily, the idea of it new to her.

"Everyone that comes regularly gets two areas of spellwork to practice: What they're best at, and what they're worst at. Isabelle is the best shieldslinger Longbottom's ever seen, and she finally made a breakthrough on her charmwork last year. Your pal Nott is fantastic at stunners, but it took him a while to get his shielding up to par."

"And you? What is 'the Sergeant' good at?"

"Everything." the Sixth Year boy said with simple confidence that was irrefutable.

Priscilla let out a disbelieving snort. "What a coincidence, Sarge- so am I."

"Really? Let's see, then." His gaze was undoubtedly a challenge as he gestured to the targets, returning to his original intent. After a moment Priscilla stepped up and started firing her spells, listening and meeting his demands for her to perform them under different challenges and swapping targets at his barked commands.

Spellslinging wasn't as simple as point-and-shoot. It took concentration and accuracy, not to mention magical energy and endurance. It was not uncommon for people to perspire and lose their breath, in extreme cases people could pass out from magical expenditure.

Everytime Rupert said her spellwork was 'adequate' Priscilla turned and challenged him to try the exact same performance. The Sergeant met and in some cases outdid her requests, in others he barely passed or missed far worse than she had. It became a challenge for the pair to find something the other couldn't do. It was nothing short of amazing, seeing someone with the confidence to challenge Priscilla and not be intimidated by her reputation or her competence.

Speaking of confidence, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy realized he'd never seen Hufflepuffs leading a group this large before. Let alone leading so well, as Rupert must be to have earned Nott's esteem. Or being the best, with a top record over the thirty-or-so other members of the club. Even with a school year ahead of the other club members, that was an impressive standing.

Yet the tall Sergeant smiled cheerily at the two new snakes walking about his club like he couldn't care less. Scorpius was reminded of the Hufflepuff mascot, the badger, relaxed and unintimidating until provoked. Apparently, the boy gave everyone a fair shake. Same no-nonsense approach, same grueling coaching style, and a unilateral aversion to laziness. Which was why Malam's enthusiasm had earned her the right to continue practicing until her skills improved.

Figuring these tutoring field trips might become common Scorpius went over his schedule in his head. He'd honestly been concerned about balancing his time with commitments to Quidditch, class, tutoring, and DDC- but if Malam was interested in keeping up with this club, he wouldn't have to sacrifice his other pastimes. A fortuitous solution that he intended to continue.

Eventually Priscilla had run out of her assortment of normal spells to show Rupert. She still had quite a few potent curses in her pocket, but there was no way she was demonstrating those and losing the element of surprise against potential enemies. Catching her breath, she looked at the Hufflepuff with begrudging respect. As far as standard spellwork went, Rupert was far above average. She could use him as a decent practice dummy.

"That was great!" Rupert assured with excitement, patting her on the back and resting his elbow on her shoulder. "Haven't been challenged like that in ages. How do you know N.E.W.T. spells already?"

"I'm aiming to graduate a year early." She huffed, catching her breath from last bout of rapid-fire spells. She tilted her head back to catch the cool stream of aguamenti from the tip of her wand.

"I thought that was practically impossible."

Her chest swelled with a pleasant feeling as she simply repeated "Practically."

Rupert grinned, admiration shining. "I don't normally say this, but- Merlin's beard, Pris! You really are good at 'everything'. I'd love to see you in action-"

"Don't call me that," she said calmly, her face falling back into her pureblood upbringing. That small kindle of camaraderie dying in an instant as she became aware of his arm on her person and stepped out from under it. "I've done your test. I'll be back when your duels catch my interest."

Rupert watched her leave, then in a pensive voice commented "I think… I did something wrong." though it sounded more like a question to the remaining Slytherin's trained ear.

After a moment Scorpius decided that it was better to affirm than not, so that there wouldn't be a repeat. He didn't blame the boy; it was mistake that many had made before, but her friends never made twice. "'Pris' is what her mother calls her."

Rupert took that in silently, then nodded. "I suppose I should have asked before using something other than her real name. Well, Malfoy, let's see the rest of whatcha got-" he jumped back into 'Sergeant' mode without ceremony and proceeded to judge the qualities of Scorpius's spells, occasionally giving pointers and critiques as they went along.

During one of their breaks the Slytherin noticed that the targets were progressively emptying, everyone whispering as chocolate frog cards exchanged hands and wrote things down on papers. Remembering that he'd seen the same thing during Isabelle and Rupert's duel, Scorpius asked "Is betting a common pastime here?"

"Hm? Oh, sometimes." he agreed, looking up to notice the exchanges himself. "Nothing serious. It's more an excuse to take a break and watch something interesting. Oi Sam- what's it this time?"

The passing Ravenclaw paused to report "A newbie's about to run the time course her first time- and she's doing it without magic!" before bidding a few of his chocolate frog cards and running to watch the show.

Scorpius blinked, then closed his eyes with a silent groan. That was more than likely Malam. Why was he no longer surprised that she created commotions wherever she went?

"Interesting." Rupert grinned, "Betcha a Knut she'll use magic to finish anyways."

"I wager the she won't even draw her wand," the Slytherin countered and walked with the older student to the obstacle course. He was not one to gamble, but knowing that Malam never used her magic unless it was a last resort he felt this was a rather safe one. And it was only a Knut. He thought for a moment. "I noticed people betting on you and Isabelle the first time I was here. What's your winning ratios?"

"Ah, actually…" Rupert rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "They were betting on how long she'd last. I haven't lost a one-v-one this year."

"Hm." Scorpius hummed, thinking that tidbit would certainly entice Priscilla back to the club. She'd see it as a challenge and an opportunity to reaffirm her combative intimidation. "Wait… does that mean you do more than just one on one duels?"

"Course. We have group competitions every third weekend. Partner duels, two or three against one… like the original DA our DDC is focused on prepping our members for real combat. And opponents don't always fight fair."

Now that was something he'd want to participate in. As they made it to the obstacle course Scorpius made a note to clear his calendar for that day.

It was his first time viewing someone do the gauntlet rather than running it himself. Because of the maze-like qualities of the course, spectators didn't sit in bleachers but rather walked along paths atop the hedge walls. Scorpius found it an interesting experience to walk a maze built above another maze, but at least it meant the warming spells over the course warmed them as well.

"You sure about this?" Nott asked down dubiously. Plenty a club member had attempted to run the course with a limited number of spells- it was actually one of their challenges- but he still felt uncertain about her not even taking her wand.

"Yup!" Zoey grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet, eager to try. "So, anything else I need to know going through here?"

"I'm gonna activate the defenses, so watch out for those brown vines."

"In the middle of dirt and plants, during winter, under a layer of snow…" Zoey grinned and took a running pose at the entrance, waiting for him to start the timer. The spectators chuckled at her comment, having had much the same complaint when they partook.

"Ready, set-" Nott put two fingers in his mouth and whistled to mimic a buzzer, the sound making Zoey wince as it aggravated her migraine. Then she took off at a sprint.

A bit surprised by the speed with which she'd started, DDC just watched her go for a few seconds. "She'll exhaust herself before she's halfway through…" someone mumbled, then someone else cried "I'll bet on that!" and there was another furious exchange of wagers.

Nott was easily keeping up with Malam, as it was his job to try and intervene if the runner was about to get hurt. After a few moments everyone else went to follow.

Zoey barely slowed down at the bridge, using speed over delicacy. She curved the corner and to everyone's shock charged the climbing wall, her momentum carrying her up a few steps before she latched onto one of the handholds and climbed up the last five feet.

At the top she launched forward and then rolled her landing. She didn't even pause as she pulled up into a run, no longer sprinting but still rushing.

The whole club just blinked at her acrobatics in shock for a moment, then cheered. They were surrounded with muttered questions of "Lookit that?" "Awesome!" "Where'd she learn to do that!?" and cries of "Go go go!" as they forgot their bets and became more interested in seeing what she was capable of doing.

Rupert looked to Scorpius and repeated one of those questions. "Where did she learn to do that?"

"She's good at running and climbing," Scorpius repeated her own claim from earlier because he didn't know the answer to the question. He hadn't expected her claim to be baseless, but he thought she'd meant compared to her dismal wandwork. His perpetually neutral tone covered notes of his shock and… pride? Why was Scorpius proud? He was her tutor, but her skills at this were unrelated to their sessions. She was running this challenge like it was nothing, and Malfoys did not take pleasure from the accomplishments of others.

Zoey hopscotched the giant mushrooms, careful to avoid the ones that had mud on them from previous runners. She still slipped toward the end, the wet squelching sound of her landing making her spectators make various sounds of disgust in sympathy. She got up and ran the last few steps, walking out to find that one of her shoes had been lost in the muck.

Hopping on one foot for a moment Zoey tried to see where her tennis shoe had gone, but wherever it was it was thoroughly buried. She reached down and popped her other shoe off before resuming her run. The action earned her more approving cheers from her spectators and an unseen smile from Scorpius.

Nott summoned both lost shoes to him, planning to give them to her as soon as she finished. Even with greenhouse spells warming the course it was too cold out to stay shoeless for long. He summoned a fresh pair of socks.

Scorpius let his nose wrinkle in distaste at the pungent smell that arose from the muck gathered on them, casting a silent scourgify to clear the worst of it off Zoey's soiled footwear.

Zoey continued passing the obstacles with agility and waning stamina, but no magic. As she reached the hardest challenge she slowed to eye the colored patches of wall warily. Iridescent vines slithered along them like snakes, poised to strike at her if she got too close.

Everyone knew what the color system stood for- hit the right color with the right incantation and they would fall limp, releasing their grip and allowing runners to pass without incident. Red were stopped by jinxes, blue by charms, and yellow by stunners. Otherwise the spiked vines would snag clothes and scratch limbs until they could ensnare their targets.

Scorpius knew from experience the most efficient way to cross this section was to run the middle, casting spells to stun the vines that got close. They approached runners from only one wall at a time in a distracting pattern that shifted both spell types and locations.

Zoey Malam, however, was making due by pressing against the opposite hedge from the reaching vines, using the added length to predict their assaults but having to zigzag between the walls to avoid getting ensnared. It was costing her both time and stamina.

The crowd- depending on how they'd bet- was half cheering her magicless endeavor and half taunting her into casting just one spell. It soon became apparent though that no matter their jibes the runner wasn't even considering her magical options, entirely focused on her own body and its position as vine after vine reached for her. Many times she barely avoided getting caught, but her clothes had several pricks holes in them.

She passed a particularly persistent blue vine by ducking and rolling forward, exceedingly lucky to have made it while her back was turned. Sitting for just a moment, she tried to catch her breath.

There was a suspiciously empty section of the course ahead of her- anyone would look at it after facing so many challenges and immediately think 'trap'.

… anyone except Zoethia Malam, it would seem. Scorpius didn't know whether to be surprised or just exasperated that she took the image at face value and ran forward without consideration.

She paid for that almost immediately, a thick brown vine launching itself from the dirt to snag the foot she'd placed near it. Everyone heard her shout of surprise as what she'd obviously thought was just a root took a firm grip of her left ankle, her momentum carrying her forward to fall to the ground.

It was a moment before she got up, instead releasing a grumbling groan that Scorpius recognized from their tutoring, one of the many sound effects she used without reservation. This one was utilized when she messed up something she should have known or remembered already. It made him smirk.

Nott, worried the sound might have been from pain, tried to judge if she'd twisted her ankle in the fall.

Zoey turned over and reached for the vine, wincing as its spikes started biting through her clothes. It was coiling and constricting like a snake, pinning her foot to the ground. While she was doing her best to untangle she failed to notice the other vines that had arisen from the walls until it was too late and one had gripped her around the middle.

She barely had a moment of surprise before more of them rose and Longbottom's plants, as was their way, started constricting her movement like the Devil's Snare it had been bred from. Vines snagged her wrists and pulled them apart before she could reach for her wand, another one going for last free limb- Zoey tried to pull it out of reach, but she was too slow. Her struggles only made the thorns dig in and scrape her skin, but thankfully her signature blue-and-black striped stockings saved her from the worst of it. Though it tore in several places and slid down some.

Gaze fixed on the numerous thorns, Zoey's eyes widened in her first sign of true panic. "Let me go, let-"

"Bets in," Scorpius heard from behind him as the wagers were exchanged and Nott prepared to jump down to the course. At this point it would be impossible for the transfer student to draw her wand to free herself, and it wasn't good to tempt the carnivorous plants' instincts by letting them hold someone for too long.

He wished he could say he was more disappointed, but Scorpius was well aware of the course's challenges even with magic to aid him. He was more impressed that she'd made it this far. "Pay up," he mumbled to Rupert, who dutifully reached into his pocket for a Knut.

Zoey growled in a low tone, ignorant of the events on the viewing platform. She didn't even notice Nott approaching her captors with a diffindo already on his lips. "I said, let. Me. Go."

One the last word a blinding flash of purple flared, making Nott jump back in surprise and the audience look down again with wide eyes.

Zoey's arms were on fire, burning away the vines that bound them. Living wood cindered like kindling and fell to ashes as Zoey reached down to grip the vine at her leg, purple flames making short work of that one as well. She caught her breath before freeing the first limb that had been caught and rushed out of the area, now hyper-conscious and swiveling her head in case another vine came at her as she left the course via a side exit.

Nott's jaw had dropped, and so had most everyone else's. Scorpius remembered her using those flames the other day, but that was like a candle to a bonfire with the control and strength she was wielding now. 'Its pretty simple' she had said, but Merlin he hadn't known it was even possible to do something like this with bluebell flames.

After a moment Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy realized he was gaping like everyone else and shook his head. Malfoys did not gawk, and they certainly did not do so with an audience. He plucked the Knut from Rupert's loose grip, chiding the Sergeant "See? What did I tell you- no wand." as though he'd known all along her capability to do this, before walking down to join Nott on the field.

His Housemate was slow coming out from his shock, but Zoey had stopped walking and sat down. She looked pale, Scorpius thought with a trace of concern, and she wasn't responding to his presence as he stopped beside her. The royal purple flames licked along her arms for a few more moments, then snuffed out of existence. He half-expected her sleeves to be charred and her skin red, but her skin was as smooth as ever. Zoey's fire hadn't burned anything she didn't want it too.

"Now that," he reported blandly, "was mildly impressive."

Nott snorted.

The girl was sitting against a wall of normal vines, hanging her head between her knees. She didn't respond to the mild complement. "My head hurts," she admitted in a soft whisper that made him think she was sensitive to noise right now.

"Wandless magic'll do that to ya," Nott agreed, setting her shoes down with the fresh socks stuffed up inside them. He pulled a paste out of his robes for the many shallow scrapes along her arms and legs, his touch medical as he started taking care of her.

"Is there a particular reason you didn't use magic sooner?"

"Cheating." she shrugged dismissively, then mumbled "Shouldn't have done that, though…"

"Yeah, you'd have killed the course if you'd been casting from the start." Nott declared, frowning at a long cut on her thigh. "Do you wanna get that one?"

Forced to raise her head from the cradle of her arms, Zoey winced at the light before following his gaze. She blinked rapidly five or six times, then did it again, which Scorpius knew was her 'thinking-hard' reaction. That must be a killer headache.

"Uh, no, I'll just- I'll rinse them off later."

"You're covered in mud and slush, transfer. This'll prevent infection." Nott held up the paste, but she was unswayed.

"I know how to treat a wound," Zoey said with a twitch of her lips as she grabbed her returned shoes, ignoring the pristine white socks inside them to instead tighten her vibrant stockings- mud and tears and all- before standing up. A mild argument took place when she visibly swayed on her own two feet, which largely consisted of her trying to say she didn't need to see Healer Prin and everyone else saying that she really did.

Eventually she consented to being escorted to her Common Room by a Ravenclaw DDC member, with the understanding that if she was not recuperated by the morning the entire club would forcibly confine her to bed rest.

As she walked away Nott turned to Scorpius with a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

He was met with the usual perpetual blandness. "What?"

"'Mildly impressive'?" he snorted, the two of them alone enough for a conversation without the risk of being overheard. "Malfoy, hate to break it to you, but you were exceedingly impressed. Even, dare I say, curious and wondering how to do that yourself."

"As if you weren't." Scorpius replied in kind, knowing that was probably the reaction of any ambitious spellcaster witnessing a wandless display like that. He turned the tables on his friend. "Exactly how many flies did you catch while trying to get over your surprise?"

Though his jaw wasn't hanging open anymore Nott still closed it with a snap, then chuckled at his friend. "You're avoiding the point Malfoy."

"Which is?"

"She managed to impress you."

"...and? Your point?"

"And, that's as rare as a pat on the head from Sybble," Nott mumbled, a bit put-off by Scorpius's intentional obtuseness. "You like her."

Scorpius tensed, but he knew Nott well enough to know he wasn't suggesting a romantic entanglement. His friend meant it as a warning. Something liked was something to be lost. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy did not have such vulnerabilities, and he set out to correct the misconception. "I like the entertainment she provides. She always manages to ruffle feathers when she challenges the obvious, and her opinions are… refreshing."

Why did that last word sound more like 'relieving'?

Clearing his throat, Scorpius continued "Plus, McGonagall herself put me in charge of part of her progress. It's good to see four hours of my week paying off. Speaking of-" he checked the time, his tone turning professional. "-we need to get to the library for research."

Nott groaned, then groaned again when he remembered the temporary member of their reading group. This evening would only go downhill.

---

Harry James Potter had gotten his request, and already he was regretting it. Sitting down at a large table across from the top researchers in The Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures with Kingsley Shacklebolt at his side, he forced himself to resign to a no doubt boring hour of droning information.

The six Researchers were all either fat, spindly, or spectacled. Harry admitted to himself that they certainly looked more suited to desk work than facing down the magical creatures they studied. He only hoped they were good at their jobs. The Head Magizooligist, a spindly bespectacled man who reminded Harry of Professor Trelawney, took his time setting up his map, enchanted pins and markers ready to highlight sections he spoke about.

"Ze Dementorz," he spoke with a heavy accent, "have been zeen in many areaz zinze zeir ezcapes from Azkeban."

Harry winced internally; this was going to be a long presentation, but he dutifully made notes of the locations and conferred on how to spread their manpower in order to protect muggle and wizards alike from dementor attacks. It was rare for Aurors to be sent on missions with Magizooligists, but dementors were worthy of special assignments. Not all Magizooligists could cast a proper patronus and vice versa for the Aurors, so new teams were quickly formed and assigned. After that was out of the way they went on to try predicting the dementor's next places of attacks, so Harry could reassign his remaining manpower accordingly.

"Zay have been in Northzern Engand most rezenty, but have been zeen zircling a few vooded areaz zuch az Albania. Very unusual sinze zer pray zeems to have been zey stray hiker rathzer zan large crouds…"

Harry narrowed his eyes as the maps seemed familiar. He felt like he'd heard another report with those areas…

"What I want to know," one of the other Magizooligists interrupted the report, her own notes far more extensive with the aid of a quickquill, "Is how they're escaping Azkaban at all."

"Dementors aren't exactly the simplest creatures to contain," Kingsley said placatingly, knowing that if anyone else had made the same statement it would have been seen as an excuse. Being Minister of Magic often meant playing negotiator between Ministry Departments.

Despite his efforts a small squabble about the management and areas of improvement in Azkaban broke out, and it was eventually decided that more staff would be posted there year-round. Kingsley supposed that it was important to keep the number of loose dementors as small as possible for as long as possible, even if their escaping were near inevitable. There was no way to kill them and as they could magically open doors it was hard keeping dementors contained, even in a wizard prison.

The meeting ended and everyone gathered their things, more conversations persisting as everyone went to work on their appointed tasks.

"Zey have indead been akting straenge," the head researcher commented and Kingsley was shocked to see Harry engaging in small talk with the man. The famed Auror usually made a point to leave meetings as soon as possible.

"For how long?" Harry asked as he helped gather the reports.

"Vell, after ze fall of-" the old man gulped, old habits standing true "You-Know-Who, ze dementorz zat served him scatterd. Zay do not normally travel in large packs, zou know. Not unlez zay are attracted to a large amount of dezpair or fear. Zey are usully two or zhree at most, zou know."

"Of course," he agreed politely though he certainly had not known that. Then again, Harry supposed he hadn't really seen dementors outside of the Second War, which was far from normal circumstances. "But they gathered to support Voldemort, didn't they?"

He fumbled and dropped his papers at the name, bending down to pick them up. "Indeed zay- zay have alvays gathered in times of wars and fed off ze dezpairz of mazzes."

Kingsley predicted Harry's next question and answered for the flustered researcher "Nobody knows how they can sense those events arising, they just do. Even with natural disasters they arrive before earthquakes or tsunamis hit, let alone at battlefields." Dementor appearances were logged before even muggle conflicts, and there were many theories about how the creatures knew the events were coming but no evidence.

"Yez, yez," the man had regained his composure by the time he'd reorganized his slides. "But zese areaz zat zey are at now- zey have not suffered any zuch eventz. Vhy zey vould gather in zuch numbers in zuch obscur plazes as Glausheterzire goez beyond all ve know of zem-"

"Glaucestershire?" Kingsley interrupted, suddenly interested. "That wasn't in the reports."

"Oh it vaz yearz ago, before ze firzt Azkeban breakout." He waved off the question. "Nine, almost zen yearz ago zey were zeen over ze forezt. But zat vaz on'y ze vild vonz, non ze vonz from Askeban."

The timeframe stuck them both at the same time, and with barely a glance and hurried farewell Kingsley pulled Harry towards his office.

"North Europe, Albania, -Glaucestershire!" The Minister hissed in frustration as they rode his private elevator, looking over the notes from the meeting. He was infinitely glad he'd chosen to attend this one in person rather than receiving a report, he might not have made the connection if he hadn't been there himself. "Oh I've been so blind- that's the same path It has been taking! Starting with Patient Zero, they've followed the same route at about the same timeframe."

Harry looked over own his notes and agreed. Starting with Zelina Avery and going on along all the cases they knew of at the moment, the dementors were indeed traveling in the same route. It was hard to map the progression of what they were calling Affliction Z- an unnecessarily dramatic name in Harry's opinion, initialed after its first known victim. Zelina.

It wasn't a disease but it most certainly wasn't simple amnesia. There were heated debates as to when to release details about the events, but as it was not widespread the only thing a publication would do at this point is cause panic. Especially when they had yet to find a treatment. Only the top staff of St. Mungo's knew the full details of Zelina Avery's ailment, and knew what signs to check for in other patients.

He frowned as something didn't add up. "But dementors don't cause memory loss… do they?"

"Of course not." Kingsley agreed. "But this is too strong a coincidence to pass off."

Looking at the locations again Harry felt a niggling suspicion at the back of his mind that he was still missing something, but couldn't quite tell what. "What if- what if they're following something again?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well- they followed Voldemort around." Harry pointed out a second time. "And from what I heard they followed Grindewald too."

"There is not another War rising. Thank Merlin." Kingsley added the last two words as a prayer, but knew that their extensive reports hadn't hinted to anything of the magnitude that Voldemort had been. Times were far from perfect, but then there was always a dark organization or two that crawled around the woodwork. "There are no dark wizards of the strength to gather dementors."

Harry nodded his agreement, then tilted his head "...does it have to be a wizard?"

The Minister of Magic stopped and considered for a moment. "I've never heard of them following muggles instead of attacking them, and I've never heard of them following any other species either." he assured as he stepped of the elevator, taking the inevitable stack of new paperwork that was always handed to him upon his arrival.

"Sir-" the courier hesitantly interrupted their conversation, undeterred by the mention of species. He'd known that the Minister's last meeting had been with Magizooligists after all. "Your 2 o'clock is here for you."

"What is it?" Shacklebolt asked, hoping it was another useless reporter he could wave off with a 'no comment'.

"It's regarding St. Mungo's, sir."

"Ah. Well, that shouldn't take long." He'd just be handed a form, sign responsibility for it and carry on his conversation with Potter. Opening the door to his office, though, he was greeted with a rather different sight than he'd expected.

Harry looked around the Minister's shoulder and felt his jaw drop. "Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy snorted lightly. "Of course you'd be here, Golden Boy."

"Manners, darling." Astoria Malfoy reached from her chair to his so she could pat his arm lightly. Then she turned and smiled at the pair that had entered, gesturing to the chair behind the desk. "Mister Potter, Minister- won't you join us?"

By making the invitation to an action they'd already planned on following she gained the power in the room; the Minister couldn't very well not occupy his own desk, and now by doing so they'd followed her direction. Draco Malfoy, very conscious of the mind game she'd just pulled, smiled and kissed the back of her hand; he loved his wife.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at their presence as he moved around them to stand behind his own desk, putting his hands on it by their fingertips for the moment before taking his seat. "And since when, Miss Malfoy, have you been a member of the St. Mungo's staff?"

"Oh dear me no, of course I'm not," she chuckled lightly, a tingling sound of amusement that reminded Harry of sleigh bells. "That was just what we wished to speak to you about."

"'We'?" The Minister prompted, looking that the silent party. "Did you not already file an official request to see me about a week ago, Mister Malfoy?"

Harry admired Kingsley in that moment; he would have choked if he ever had to call Malfoy 'Mister'.

"I did." The balding blond drawled, frowning considerably. "And was subsequently ignored."

"As Minister I do have a great deal more to confer on than a simple matter of medical funds."

"And yet," Astoria said with a note of triumph, "you remember we were asking about medical funds."

"It was unique I will admit." Kingsley sighed even as Harry gave a guilty start. "Is there a particular reason that this is so important for you?"

"Zelina Avery was my classmate." Astoria said simply, though it certainly felt like there was more emotion behind her statement than a simple school acquaintance. Draco squeezed her hand in his as a bit of a warning; it wouldn't be a good idea to show how emotionally tied they were in this.

He needn't have worried- the Minister had lost his air of nonchalance at the news. "You knew Zelina Avery? When- how well?"

Even Astoria's composure was taken aback by the vehemence of his question, then her eyes narrowed. "I do believe I just answered that question, Minister. Is there a particular reason that this is so important to you?"

The Minister frowned as his own question was thrown back in his face but didn't back down. "It's a matter of security. I need to know all you knew about Miss Avery's spellwork and history."

"Security?" Draco choked out, his face growing red. "Avery has been in that hospital for nigh on ten years now and you're spouting regulations about security?"

"Your bedside manner, sir, could do with improvement." Astoria lifted her chin to look down her nose at the Minister, the 'sir' doing very little to soften her insult.

"It's true." Harry argued, moving from behind the Malfoys to stand beside Kingsley. "And as Head Auror I demand to know on a matter of internal affairs."

Draco bristled almost as much as his wife. "You think you can order me around, Potter?"

"That's the thing about having a job instead of sitting around my house all day, Malfoy- it actually means I can do something with my life." He refused to back down, but was shocked at the response. A flash of pain went through Malfoy's expression before he looked away, and for maybe the first time in the history of their altercations Malfoy didn't attempt to put a last word in.

Astoria gripped his hand tighter and set her sights on Harry. "I think you will learn very little about anyone who knew Zelina with that demeanor Potter. If you wish to know more about her, the best person to ask would be to ask her brother.

"Brother?"

Kingsley looked at Harry sharply at his tone of surprise. This was the sort of situation that warranted an elbow in the side to induce silence, but as an adult the best the Minister could do was pray that Harry was faking his shock.

"Yes 'brother'." Astoria tilted her head. "Her older brother, three years her senior? Xavier Avery."

The name was pronounced by saying the 'X' before continuing on to the rest of it, and the man himself had been a person of interest for as long as Harry had been an Auror. The majority of the Avery's had been condemned at trial for conspiring with Voldemort, but their heir and current patriarch Xavier had been on other continents for the entirety of the Second War. With paperwork and proof showing he'd been in China and the America's he had been found innocent of any involvement by simple geography, as not even the strongest wizards could apparate across oceans.

Though Harry had known quite a few 'Averys' growing up among muggles, it was a much less common name among wizards. Avery was one of the Sacred 28 Pureblood families, and was more a title than mere surname- one with ties generations long to the largest magical shadow association in operation. Upon Xavier's return to England the substantial Avery wealth and influence had only grown. With the legal arrests of his family the young heir, only nineteen at the time, became the head of all their affairs. It was believed he was not only part of but leading the Avery Organization at this point, and undoubtedly a practitioner of Dark Magic.

Harry blinked a few times, then turned slowly to look at the man to his right. "Surely she does not mean that Xavier Avery."

Kingsley Shacklebolt lowered his head with a sigh. Harry, it seemed, was indeed just making this connection this moment and had not been faking his initial shock. "Yes, Harry, she does mean that Xavier Avery."

If it weren't for the serious conversation it might have been amusing to hear people saying the Avery name so casually- it was usually whispered in dark corners during illicit deals or with rising frustrations by the authorities who continuously failed to find evidence of his illegal transactions. Xavier was tailed regularly as were his known Pureblood contacts, but they never succeeded in catching the man in an illegal act.

"His current occupation, I believe, is 'information broker'." Astoria continued with a note of glee. "I am sure he would be more than willing to tell you what you want to know."

"But perhaps," Draco offered with perfectly practiced innocence, "You are unsure of how to contact him at this time? If you want, we could send a letter…"

"That Xavier Avery," he repeated to this Minister, running over his old rival. "And this did not come up during your explanation- why?"

"This is not the time-"

"If Zelina was working together with her brother," Harry continued, speaking as his mind ran forward with the possibility, "Then for all we know she caused this to start! Released it or formed it or- what if her dark magic was what set this thing loose?"

The Malfoy couple glanced at each other, both understandably confused but knowing that to interrupt would be to halt this sudden source of information.

"Harry we have already looked into that possibility, but by all accounts Zelina had been immersed in muggle society for too long to-"

"Xavier Avery is a master of deception and forgery, Minister. He could have falsified everything we know about her! She could be the culprit who started the killings, who- who gathered the dementors in the first place! We didn't even have record of his having siblings. For all we know she was his liaison to Voldemor-"

Smack! Harry's head jerked to the side as Astoria's white glove made contact with his cheek. She'd stood up and been in motion the instant the man had accused Zelina of being a killer, her eyes doing their best to become a basilisk's and smite Harry with a single look. He froze, unable to believe that had just happened and the animosity now directed at him from the unerringly polite worman. Kingsley's eyes went wide as well. "Misses Mafl-"

"Mister Potter," she ignored the Minister of Magic to speak in a voice little more than a hiss, "You would do well not to throw insults upon a person you know nothing about."

Draco Malfoy was the only person not surprised by her actions. If anything, the image of his wife smacking the 'Chosen One' was a dream come true.

And it was certainly well deserved. "It seems, Minister, that your staff is not very well informed. Allow me to fill in a few blanks-" because while Draco had enjoyed watching his wife's righteous anger, when she became truly angry there was little besides himself that could calm her. Her biting wit might get them thrown out before they could finish playing their trump card. "Ms. Avery vanished after the Second War. After the Battle of Hogwarts, in fact, and no witch or wizard has spoken with her since. Before her disappearance she told Tori that she was done with the wizarding world for good. She would not 'experiment' with any magic, let alone dark."

"And in case that doesn't convince you," Astoria added when she saw Harry about to argue, her ire calming but her gaze still as serpentine as her tone "Zelina Avery despised dementors. She was a natural at healing magics."

He shut his jaw at that. Healing, obviously, was as opposite to the dark magics as one could be. To be good at one meant a horrid skill in the other. "Is there any proof of that?"

"Ask Madame Pomfrey. Zelina was her assistant at one point."

Kingsley tilted his head at the new information, making a note to contact Hogwarts' retired Healer to confirm that claim.

Draco, knowing that a spirit of cooperation was unfortunately necessary, continued. "And, Potter, the reason you didn't know Xavier had a sister is because they are half-siblings. Zelina was a bastard child unrecognized by the Avery tree- but I guarantee," he spoke slowly in the manner of a threat. "That was not a distinction that stopped their personal familial tie. When he catches word that his sibling was attacked by something known to kill its victims, he will launch his own investigation. And considering how hushed you've been trying to keep her condition, I gather that you would rather avoid that."

Harry grit his teeth as he realized his outburst had revealed far more than they had learned.

"So-" Astoria finally reigned in her anger as she sat once more, calmed by the knowledge they held the winning hand, "-would you like to send Xavier Avery a letter explaining everything, or shall we?"

---

Rose wasn't sure what to think of this. When she'd come to help Malfoy with his private project, she expected to be alone with him. Instead, he'd brought his Sneaker friends.

At first she worried that he'd set up her up for one of his torturous pranks. But when they all sat down and dutifully buried their noses in the books Rose suggested, she realized they were all here to research. It was frustrating- none of them were speaking to her, instead passing notes with whispers and terribly focused on their work.

After Rose started identifying which library sections would be most useful Scorpius went to get some more fresh parchment, leaving her alone with the four Slytherin's he'd brought. Rose Granger-Weasley tapped her nails on the table, her lower lip stuck out in a slight pout. She hadn't realized he'd asked other people for help. And she wasn't sure why their quiet demeanors were so vexing; she was used to studying in silence.

When Scorpius left to get some more parchment the eldest Slytherin of the group, some girl Rose had never talked to before, asked blandly "Is there something bothering you?"

"No." she answered, looking back down at her book.

"Ah. In that case- could you cease that racket?"

Rose stilled her fingers with a blush, knowing how unforgivably annoying such noise was to a focused mind. "Sorry."

The brief exchange seemed to have opened the grounds for conversation, as one of the boys leaned his chair back on two legs and asked "What are you doing here, anyways?"

"What am I-" he should be grateful she was here to help them. "Scorpius asked me for help, Nott."

"I'm Nott," The other boy accused, gesturing toward the thicker and shorter classmate she'd just talked to. "That's Zambini."

She looked between the two of them and knew she couldn't pass it off as a mistake- they were vastly different in appearance- and looked down with a mumble. "Well it's not like you introduced yourselves or anything."

The first girl sat up with a polite smile, gesturing to each of them in turn. "Since you ask- Thomas Nott, Marcellous Zambini, both in your year. Our younger friend here is Melissa Goyle, and I'm Priscilla Parkinson. Fifth Year."

The Gryffindor's mouth dropped at the names; James was right, all of Scorpius's friends came from Death Eater families! Then she did a double-take at this 'Priscilla', realizing she was the girl James was always warning her to stay away from. In just her First Year this girl had attacked a number of Gryffindors and gotten away with it.

"Do you think you'll remember?" Melissa sounded slightly doubtful.

Insulted, Rose huffed "Of course" and looked back down at her book, glancing over it. After a moment she wondered "Why do you ask?"

"Well," the oldest girl gestured to the two boys, "They've been in your classes for four years, and you still had them mixed up. What would be different now?"

"It- it's- it's not like we ever talked before."

Zambini nodded in agreement. "Well yeah. Kinda hard to do when your family guard dog attacks at even a whiff of us around."

"Who?" Rose asked, her face scrunching. They did not have a 'guard dog'!

"James." They all said in unison.

"One time Melissa helped his sister Lily when she was lost," Zambini scowled, "He got his following harassing her for a month until Priscilla started walking her between classes."

"He- no, he wouldn't. I'm sure that had nothing to do with him. It must have been-" She paused then hurriedly finished. "Somethinelse."

"Of course," Priscilla said placatingly. "It just happened because of her surname, right?"

Four pairs of eyes watched her for a response.

Rose felt her face flame in shame, wondering how this girl had known she'd harbored such a prejudiced thought. "I didn't say that."

"You're not denying it neither." Zambini growled, setting his chair back on four legs with a thud that echoed in the quiet library.

"Either." Priscilla casually corrected him, "Otherwise that's a double negative."

Her calm tone relaxed the situation, making Rose realise the respect she held in their small circle. And she'd done it without yelling or threatening or even addressing the issue itself. It was a stark difference to the conflicts she had with her friends, when her cousins would yell and scream to be heard and acknowledged over the din of everyone else doing the same thing. The thought made her realize that all of her 'friends' were family. Well, except Lorcan and Lysander- but they were practically family. She wondered if this was how 'just friends' interacted.

Realizing they were still waiting for her response, Rose scratched her nose nervously as she tried to explain herself. "Well it's- it's not just my fault. You never made any effort to talk to me either."

"I wonder why," Nott mumbled, the only one still focusing on his books and notes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The Slytherin snorted, still refusing to look at her. "Well, when you're not pestering Malfoy you ignore our existence. Walking around like you're some kind of royalty. And when you are pestering our friend you're a right pain at that."

The three other Slytherin's didn't deny it. In fact they leaned back in their chairs, not like they were wanting to get away from the conflict but more like they were settling down to watch. Priscilla's gaze was focused on her fellow snake, trying to understand what his angle was. He wasn't usually this provocative.

"How dare- you take that back!" Rose demanded, getting to her feet to gain the authority that edged her voice.

"Why?" he asked, raising a challenging eyebrow.

She floundered for the reason, and what came out was unbelievably childish. "Because- because… because that was mean and not true!"

"It's true on both sides. You 'Legacies' don't want anything to do with us 'Sneakers', and vice versa."

"I haven't done anything to you," Rose defended, crossing her arms with a huff."

Nott's voice got low and accusing. "That doesn't mean you're innocent."

There was a tense silence, the Gryffindor going visibly pale. "What does that mean?" she whisper-hissed. Nott's eyes narrowed as he curled his lip, rising to match her when he felt a sharp pain on his instep.

"All that is necessary for evil to win is that good men sit by and do nothing," Priscilla quoted, continuing to grind her heel on Nott's foot under the table even as she maintained a pleasant smile. "Forgive our skepticism, princess, but since we don't know you're motives for being here we are prone to question them."

"Course you are," Rose mumbled, but even her feathers were calmed by the Slytherin's graceful handling of the situation.

"And that," Nott mumbled, ignoring Priscilla's renewed jab under the table, "Is why you are a hippocratic, insufferable human being. I wouldn't be your friend if you paid me to."

Rose felt her mouth fall open, wondering what she'd done to deserve such animosity.

He smirked at her flabbergast reaction. "What, is this the first time someone refused your sparkling personality?"

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, then she snapped it shut. She was shocked to realize he was right, but wouldn't give them the satisfaction of saying so. Instead she pulled her book closer and waited for Scorpius to get back.

---

Zoey's feet were dragging by the time she made it to Ravenclaw Tower, and she was holding the banister with white knuckles to keep her balance. Sam, her DDC escort, was walking behind her with the obvious worry that she'd slip and tumble down the steep steps. Even the Eagle Knocker gave her a once-over before giving them a ridiculously simple riddle to enter their dorm.

It was one of the sphinx riddles she'd read to him at the start of the year, and Zoey answered almost before he'd finished. "A river."

Sam did a double take at her before holding the door open. "Remind me not to challenge you for wits."

Zoey opened her mouth to banter back, but she got assaulted by a dozen owls the instant she stepped inside the common room. Several Ravenclaws looked at her with aggravation as the animals all started screeching and pecking at her fingers for rewards for their deliveries. Feathers flew as their silent wings beat around her, all of them trying to perch on her arms and hindering her efforts to get their treats from her pockets. She yelped a number of times under the assault of their impatient beaks, down feathers flying and catching all over her clothes and in her hair.

"You know," Zoey commented in a trembling voice after she'd finally sent them all away, her arms filled with almost a dozen letters and a small package, "I used to like owls."

Sam snorted, plucking a feather off his own robes. "The curse of being popular, I'm sure."

She wasn't in the mood for witty banter anymore, though she made sure to chuckle at the joke before she took the plush armchair beside Lysander. He grunted a response to her "Hey Sandy", so she knew he was well engrossed in his book.

That was good. Her head was still killing her- her magic migraine was throbbing like a heavy metal band through her mind and Zoey doubted she could maintain an intelligent conversation. She glanced through her letters doubtfully, knowing that her sudden 'popularity' was likely more hate mail. There a few colorful envelopes- probably trying to trick her into thinking they were important- but as they didn't have return addresses she set them on the table next to her. Her guilt would probably make her skim them later just in case one of them actually was important.

There was only one serious letter, which came from Kingsley Shacklebolt. He hadn't used the Ministry seal but signed it by her nickname for him: 'Rex'. He was inquiring about her time at Hogwarts, which she knew translated to 'is everything under control?' She frowned as she thought about how to answer that. Thing's weren't exactly controlled anymore but they weren't out of control… in her opinion. She'd have to word her reply very carefully.

The package didn't have a name on it either but Zoey opened it anyways- which wasn't as reckless as it sounded, because instead of tape the brown paper had been pinned shut by purple-striped murtlap spikes.

Private mail, huh? Zoey opened the items that could only be from Jon and read his enclosed note slowly because her head still hurt and her thought process wasn't quite up to par because of it. He'd written with a mind to the paper accidently being picked up by someone else- he'd left out the 'to Zoey' and 'from Jon', adding a PS saying 'no need to keep this around- you can throw it away when you're done'. The corner of her mouth twitched at his quirkiness.

In not so many words her cousin assured that she needn't worry about the 'fireworks' last night, that even though though they had no leads he and the other teachers weren't giving up. That was a relief- not that they were investigating, of course, but that Jon was in a position to steer suspicion away from either of them. She knew schools, knew that as much as teachers would want to find the culprit their lives were simply too busy to poke around for long. Zoey had seen many a school crime go unpunished simply due to time.

He also said that, in light of recent events, he'd included some magic-proof locks he guaranteed to do a good job of securing her privacy. Jon was going to start using his own immediately, and suggested she do the same.

Zoey chuckled, knowing that suggestion was as much an order as it was unnecessary. Her cousin, the paranoid genius.

The locks were more muggle than she'd expected, with combination dials. She was setting their passwords when a smell distracted her. She lifted her head with mild confusion as she took a deeper breath. "Is- is something burning?"

In retrospect, probably not the best thing to say around her book-laden friend. Lysander Scamander jerked as though he'd been branded by a cattle prod, pulling out his wand in eager preparation to put out any flame that threatened his House Library.

While Zoey was looking around for a flame Lysander followed his nose to the pile of letters on the small table, seeing the pile with Easter-bright envelopes starting to smoke slightly. He hissed with rare urgency "Zoey, those are Howlers!"

The muggle-raised girl turned to him with confusion, her silver bangs slapping her cheekbones. She'd never heard that word before and certainly didn't know what could cause such dread in her usually stoic companion. "A whoolers?"

Lysander's gaze lifted to meet hers before before her world exploded.

---

It didn't take long for Scorpius to return to their study table, and he looked at the tense atmosphere before pulling Rose away to point out the better shelves that they should use for their research. Eager to be away from Nott and his insults, Rose readily pointed out the best authors about magic specialists and the biography sections, giving Scorpius time to write them down. She was interested to see that he was also mapping out the library as they walked, his quill continuously moving.

"Sorcerers Since the 17th Century should give you a good list of names…"

He looked up halfway through writing that down. "Really?"

"Yeah," she took down the heavy album with photos of the people in question. "All the people the Ministry of Magic has granted the title of 'Grand Sorcerer' to since it's founding in… um…"

"1707," Scorpius finished absentmindedly, then chuckled in disbelief. "Merlin's beard, no wonder we kept getting stuck! I forgot to exclude that from our lists."

"Exclude it? Why would-" she frowned. "Aren't you researching Sorcerers?"

"Not exactly. I'm looking into Sorcer-y." he grinned, his eyes lighting up at the puzzle his next words presented. "I read the term in a book way older than the Ministry title. Made me wonder if it wasn't a school of magic at some point, if 'sorcerers' were like charmmasters or potioneers…"

Rose lost track of his words, too busy watching his reactions. She'd never seen Malfoy this excited, and it was over something theoretical. She would have thought such intangible subjects would only bore him. What else did she not know about him?

Eventually he moved on, still adding Sorcerers Since the 17th Century on his list so he could compile the people he shouldn't research. He kept asking more and shared passing comments about the book topics, little things that meant nothing but somehow a lot at the same time.

He really knew his history. Eventually she had to ask "Why aren't you beating me in History of Magic? I mean- you obviously love the subject."

"Not in class," Scorpius's nose wrinkled in distaste, something else that she'd never seen him do before. "The way it's taught is so- so empty, you know? Like we're given an outline instead of the whole painting. Colorless and blank. It's just the idea of what it's supposed to be but still isn't the whole picture. You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Rose said, but she really didn't. History was just another class to her, a list of topics to master before the tests. She was blessed with her mother's brains, or at least that's what her dad always said. Ron Granger-Weasley expected her to be brilliant as her mother, something the professors expected as well, so she never let herself be a disappointment. When she got that letter from her mum asking about her first Acceptable of her school life, she'd cried with panic that she'd disappointed them. And then Malfoy had come along and made the whole thing worse by seeing her, and she'd suddenly felt silly about crying in the first place.

"What about squibs?"

Surprised by his sudden question, she looked at him in surprise. "What about them?"

"I'm researching them too for comparison."

That made sense, she supposed- so she let him pick her brain on every related book she knew on that subject, glad her bookworm weekends were paying off. This was her longest interaction with Scorpius Malfoy outside of class. Finally she nodded with satisfaction. "Well, that was the last of it- every good squib or 'sorcery' book Hogwarts has."

"Not quite." He pointed to the infamous gate at the back of the library.

"The Restricted Section? You can't get-"

"Well no I can't," Scorpius immediately and smoothly agreed, "but you have. Unless you expect me to believe that you didn't explore every shelf as soon as McGonagall gave you unrestricted access?"

Rose blushed. "It was prudent to do that for the sake of of knowing what I had at my disposal for tutoring! Not that it helped- I doubt Zoey's skills will ever be anywhere near that advanced. Especially since she's on her own now."

"You're wrong."

"Huh?"

"You're wrong," he said again, keeping her attention as he walked them toward the Restricted Section. He was watching her reaction from the corner of his eye. "She tries too hard to never improve. I may take her some time- well, a long time- but I don't think she'd ever give up."

"...you sound impressed," Rose murmured in shock, outside the door to the Restricted Section. The pass Headmistress McGonagall had given her at the start of the year let both of them through without question.

Scorpius Malfoy twitched as her statement echoed Nott's, swiftly moving to rectify the misconception again. "Determination like that is rare. We don't even put in that much effort, did you notice?"

Rose didn't answer, pretending not to have heard as she gave him the second tour. Scorpius may not have realised but she did work hard- her grades were not natural, they were the culmination of many sleepless nights and sacrificed social outings. Rose had to grudgingly admit though that she didn't have the same enthusiasm as her ex-pupil. She couldn't imagine Zoey just giving up on something either. That girl was likely too thick-headed to even consider it.

...and apparently that was something Scorpius liked about her. It made Albus's warning echo in her head again, saying that her long-standing crush was starting to like Hogwarts' newest occupant.

She shook her head. So what if there was one thing about Zoey that Scorpius liked? Rose was certain there was a lot more about herself that Scorpius should like. Like- like her grades. She was smart, so he wouldn't get bored.

Then she remembered Nott's comment about annoying them all with her constant competition against Malfoy and realized she'd probably ruined that quality. Okay then, well- Rose was pretty. Everyone always complimented her green eyes, and her hair- well, Rose supposed the rest of her family had the same red hair but it looked good on her! And, um…

Rose Granger-Weasley was horrified to find that next on her list of good qualities was her family, something Scorpius certainly wouldn't find attractive. As a Malfoy, Scorpius wouldn't want anything to do with most of her family.

She hurriedly moved on to face the problem from another angle She'd known Scorpius Malfoy for four years and had had a crush on him for three. This was her real advantage. She undoubtedly knew him better than some transfer that just started a few months ago. Her feelings were deeper and real. She liked Scorpius because she knew better than anyone how witty and smart and attractive he was.

Her steps slowed. But- but that couldn't be all she liked about Scorpius. There were a lot of attractive guys at school- her Housemate Daniel the Head Boy, for example. He had always made time for her, why didn't she like him instead? And if she was interested in smarts, Lysander Scamander was the genius of Hogwarts and they'd been friends for years. And- 'witty'? That was just their arguing when she tried to pull him into a conversation only to inadvertently put her foot in her mouth when nerves got the better of her. And he never let her get away with it either, something only he ever did. Anyone else would nod and agree without complaint to whatever she said.

"Oh." she said aloud as she finally solved the puzzle. She liked Scorpius because he treated her like a person, one with faults that could be wrong like any other human being. That was odd, she thought passingly. Didn't most girls want their crush to treat them like a princess?

"What?" Scorpius looked up from his diagram, thinking he'd missed her saying something.

"Um- well, it's just-" she cast about for something to finish her statement that wasn't I-just-realized-why-I-have-a-crush-on-you-and-it-doesn't-make-sense. "-why did you set off that explosion last night?"

"What explosion?" Scorpius frowned, with no idea of what she was referring to. Unless James had had some sort of mental fit in her Gryffindor Common Room- that he would gladly take credit for.

"You know, the Whiz-Bang fireworks? A whole bunch of them were set off last night; everyone saw them. It was purple and green and black…" she trailed off at his look of incomprehension, muttering "...everyone's saying it came from the Slytherin Tower."

Malfoy closed his papers into a spiral with a snort, finished with his intel gathering. "For your information, Thorn, Slytherin doesn't have a 'tower'. Our dorms are under the lake. We can't see out let alone open our windows unless we want to sleep with the fishes."

Yet another thing she hadn't known about him. Rose kept her mouth shut and just followed him back to the back table his friends were waiting at, not wanting to say something even worse. Bloody hell, Rose swore internally as she realized she didn't just say mean things around Scorpius, she said mean things about him and his friends. A lot, it seemed.

...that was something Zoey never seemed to do. For all of her incessant ramblings, they rarely if ever held an insult or cruel opinion. Her gut twisted uncomfortably and Rose felt a sinking dread fill her as she finally understood what the emotion was, and how it had fanned her dislike of Zoethia Malam.

But no, if she could ignore an emotion as fickle as guilt she could certainly forget about this one as well. Shoving her problems and the transfer student entirely from her thoughts, Rose Granger-Weasley dove into research.

---

Zoethia Malam prided herself on being a swift thinker, on reacting quickly to any crisis and taking charge when the average person became blinded by surprise and panic. But when her letters- Howlers Lysander had called them- burst into flames, she'd fallen out of her chair in her shock and found herself all but petrified.

She could only tremble on the soft blue carpet as the flames rose from the half-dozen papers that burned far longer than they should, the grey smoke rising to form smooth yet mocking masks that shouted the insults she'd been reading for the past week to her entire House. Their yells bounced off the walls and vibrated the shelves, knocking over a few precariously balanced book piles.

"YOU'RE A LIAR!" cried a voice she recognized, "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ALBUS-"

The ranting was cut off by another voice rising from one of the other Howlers, saying"-WHY DID YOU EVEN COME TO HOGWARTS? GO BACK WHERE-"

And another "-TWO TIMING WITCH TAKING ADVANTAGE OF-"

"-THROWING YOURSELF AT SOMEONE WHO OBVIOUSLY ISN'T INTERESTED-"

"-JUST LIKE A SLYTHERIN-"

"-YOU'RE A SQUIB, STOP WASTING OUR PROFESSOR'S EFFORTS-"

"-SKULKING AROUND AND TRICKING EVERYONE-"

"-MANIPULATIVE BRAT THAT NEEDS TO LEARN-"

"-NO ONE WANTS YOU HERE, TRANSFER! LEAVE-

"-HOW DID YOU EVEN WORM YOUR WAY INTO RAVENCLAW, YOU SNAKE?!-"

"Silencio!"

…

The ringing silence echoed in her ears along with the many voices, and Zoey realized that at some point she'd squeezed her eyes shut. Her throat was tight and tears loomed threateningly in her moist eyes as she cracked them open to see Lysander standing up from his seat. His wand was pointing and maintaining a muffling barrier that silenced the insults but did nothing to prevent the image of the mocking, sneering Howlers from burning themselves back into Zoey's mind.

"Are you alright?" someone asked softly, making Zoey spin around to see her entire House arising from their couches and tables to slowly make their way to her, Ravenclaws even descending from the dorms, having heard the Howlers even through the stone floor. Everyone circled her cautiously but keeping their distance- like she was some kind of injured beast. Sam, the DDC member who'd walked her back to their dorm, was the person who'd asked.

"Yea- yes," she cleared her throat between the words, standing up with effort and making sure to smile. Her voice still trembled a bit. "I'm fine, I just have a headache. Those certainly didn't help- sorry they bothered your studies, I would have tossed them out the window if I knew they did that. What did you call them, Sandy? Howlers? More like Screamers I think- how do they work? Did they all have to shout into their letters to make it sound like themselves?"

"No, they just write it down." he said softly, as though wary of her aforementioned headache.

"... that really doesn't make sense, then." Zoey chuckled lightly and shook her head, though she couldn't pull her gaze away from the still-burning letters that continued to mock her silently. "Then again, I suppose magic doesn't always do that. I wonder who sent them- they weren't very smart, sending them all at once. At that volume I could barely tell them apart."

Lysander looked at her from the corner of his eyes, then nodded. "It wasn't a well thought-out plan on their part, no."

"And what are we supposed to do about this?" Asked a clinical voice from the other side of the crowd. Ravenclaw Tower parted like a proverbial Red Sea to reveal Head Girl Emmaline Wilkes still settled at the table she'd been sitting at when the chaos had arisen. Her quill was poised in her right hand as she continued speaking, curling lazily as though she were writing the words she presented. "Someone just disrupted our Tower, Ravenclaws. What will we do?"

Disrupted their…? The odd statement finally inspired Zoey to pull her gaze from the jeering Howlers, looking at her older Housemate. She'd tried to avoid Emmaline Wilkes for the most part because of the Sorting Ceremony, so Zoey didn't know her Head Girl and Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain very well. Certainly not well enough to know what that statement was supposed to mean.

"Have you sent for the Professors yet?" Lysander asked his co-leader of Ravenclaw dorm.

"A First Year is on his way."

"Good." The Howlers had finally burned out and finished their assault. There were now scorches on the small table and carpet, still smoking slightly. His job done, Lysander sat back in his chair and picked up his fallen book, brushing off some stray smudges.

"Um-" Zoey looked between the two seated Ravenclaw leaders, faculty intervention not needed or wanted in her opinion.

"First infraction- the Howlers," Wilkes was saying, writing that down. "Those are illegal for Hogwarts students to send to other students and this certainly broke that School Rule. Anyone opposed to seeing them punished?"

She was met with silence, only punctuated by a slightly louder "Umm-" from Zoey, who was still reeling from the Howlers and this sudden shift in atmosphere.

"All agreed then. What else?"

"What about what they said to Zoey?" Sam piped up. "This obviously wasn't the first time."

"Reasoning?" Wilkes asked.

"I saw her face when she got them." the DDC member attested, "she wasn't surprised, just annoyed. Though judging from her response these're probably the first Howlers she's ever seen."

"They were, actually." Zoey said in a soft voice. "I really didn't know-"

"First time means first infraction..." The Head Girl made a note of that to report it later. "And are you proposing we retaliate for the assaults on her person in a more personal manner?"

"Yes."

"That's not nec-"

"Any opposed?" Wilkes cut off Zoey's protest and looked around the room, then pointed her quill-feather at one of the people who'd raised their hand. "Reasoning?"

"Well-" said a nervous voice Zoey didn't recognise, "I mean- what if the Howlers were right? Then they'd just be trying to right a wrong, and- granted- while the Howlers had excessive hyperbole for effect, I certainly wouldn't want to defend someone as deceitful as they claim Malam is. Until we know I don't even think we should have Professors punish anybody."

"It is my top priority to ensure that my entire House can pursue their lives and studies in peace and quiet. The Howlers will be punished." Wilkes admonished, "However the rest of your point still stands- does anybody else feel that reservation?"

More hands rose in the air this time. Zoey's spirit dropped in the opposite direction.

"... very well." She made a quick headcount for voting purposes and decided they were close enough to split to warrant a debate. "What are the testimonials as to her character?"

"My-"

"Well we can't ask you anything," Wilkes chided Zoey's offended tone. "That would be the very definition of 'biased', of course."

"How about the critiquing the accusations first?" Micheal- one of the more avid Halloween pumpkin carvers- piped in. "A lot of it is circumstantial, and there are almost too many illogical fallacies to count."

"Circumstances that could have been avoided if she were more forthcoming," someone countered. "There's no denying that she's hiding something."

"Doesn't everyone have-"

"And seriously, look at this." Sam pulled out a copy of the article, all the Ravenclaws immediately swarming around it and highlighting sections. "Look at all the Oxford Commas!"

"What's wrong with the Oxford Comma?" Christine Creevy, who'd been silent until then, chimed in with a defensive tone.

"It's redundant!"

"Can anybody hear a word I'm saying?" Zoey asked with a note of desperation, her first uninterrupted statement. Yet it still went unacknowledged. Her shoulders slumped as her Housemates became engrossed in a debate, an event that could go beyond a few mere hours to days or even weeks in Ravenclaw Tower. Especially with this many participants.

Only this time, Zoey realised, they would all be doing it without her. That hurt almost as much as their refusal to let her defend herself. She bit her lip and closed her eyes against looming tears, then yanked her perfectly straight ponytail from its tie.

Taking a deep breath Zoey redid it's tight binding, the ritualistic motions soothing her and letting her think again. She turned and picked up the locks Jon had sent her, slipping them into her pocket and looking at the pile of cinders that the Howlers had made from the rest of her mail.

Rex's letter had been in that pile. Zoey pinched the bridge of her nose, then decided she'd have to reply to it some other time. It would be easier to claim a controlled situation when she didn't feel like she was about to scream.

"Later Sandy."

"Hm." He looked up from his book as Zoey left their Tower, recognising that she was hurt and considered his options before correctly concluding she probably wanted privacy right now. Lysander Scamander looked at the debating group with more pity that disappointment. A near universal Ravenclaw fault was a lack of social aptitude. Somewhere along the way of scholarly pursuits they simply forgot how to interact with people.

Zoey was no exception- she could be annoying to the point of belligerence, after all.

…In a moment of clarity Lysander realised he was thinking this from outside the group of his Housemates, from a chair he spent several hours reading in on a daily basis and hadn't left but once all afternoon- and admitted to himself that he wasn't much better.

Then, in typical Ravenclaw fashion, he decided that his book was more pressing than what might be a persisting character flaw. So Lysander opened said book, flicked another speck of soot off the page, and went back to reading.

---

Albus Severus Potter had come to a series of Realizations.

Firstly, he had indeed forgotten to actually tell Zoey their Hogsmeade trip had been a proper date. This was first because it was most important.

Secondly, he had also forgotten to tell everyone else that it was not a proper date. Which had become a serious problem after the newest Scandals article came out.

Thirdly- and he realized this because of said article- he didn't know Zoey Malam very well. He didn't believe the article but he also believed his own eyes. He believed that was Zoey in the picture and that was Assistant Orion as well, yet he didn't know how they knew each other outside of school or have a single rebuttal for the many girls that kept coming up to him expressing their deepest sympathy that he'd been 'two-timed by such a manipulative liar'.

That had been the first time he'd ever gotten mad at Leena, telling her Zoey would never do such a thing to anyone and that she should mind her own business as far as dating was concerned. His words actually seemed to have hurt her, Albus reflected sullenly and banged his head on the table for self punishment. He'd have to apologize for that later.

All of this led to Realization Number Four: He should get to understand Zoey better. Unfortunately, she hadn't been around much lately. He hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her. But- but!- Albus realized there were other ways to understand a girl. He just had to think like a girl.

… which, being a boy, admittedly didn't seem possible. He had mastered the art of thinking like lost shoes, missing homework assignments, and even ghosts- but girls? Albus didn't even know where to begin. So- so- he admitted he should probably get some help from someone more knowledgeable on the subject. Which led to THE MOST embarrassing decision of his life.

Lily Luna Potter- a 100% confirmed girl and therefore More Knowledgeable by default- smiled as she looked at her brother over her dinner. "Did you want something, Al?"

He groaned and banged his head on the table again. He was asking his little sister for advice. Albus Severus Potter had his Fifth Realization.

He would never live this down.

---

... oh I love Albus. Thanks Grey Eminence for reminding me that I needed to write his character some more!

E