Chapter 11. Oh snap! And sooner than I promised.

Don't get used too used to it; I promise this was a rare opportunity to write.

Thank you, again, to everyone who reads, fav's, subscribes and reviews. A little motivation never hurt nobody.

I promise we're getting closer to the good stuff.

Let's get this party started, eh?

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

"Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs."

William Shakespeare

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Dawn was breaking over the grounds of Hogwarts as Jon made his way around the quidditch pitch for his morning run. He had added some stops for push-ups and found a spot where he could do some chin-ups off a doorway to the pitch; this made his runs a bit slower, but more fulfilling.

This was his second time around the pitch, and as he came around into full view of the castle, he stopped and put his hands on his head and took in the sight. 'Okay,' He thought begrudgingly, 'It's a bit more beautiful than Ilvermorny. Stupid Scottish Highlands.'

As he stood there looking over the grounds, a chirp from above caught his attention. Lance was perched on a flag pole, looking down at Jon curiously from the quidditch pitch. "Hey pal. How ya been?" Lance jumped from his perch and gracefully flew down towards Jon, who extended his right arm for Lance to land on. "Gently, please." Jon muttered.

Lance landed gracefully on Jon's arm, then wobbled over to Jon's shoulder, sitting perched like a pirate's parrot. "You doin' good?" Jon asked. Lance bobbed his head. "Eating alright?" Lance bobbed his head. "Miss me?" Lance bobbed his head. Jon laughed. "I missed you too, pal."

Looking around to see if anyone else was up and about, or if there were any shimmers in the light, Jon walked out of sight of the castle and pulled the letter from Tobias Webster from the inner pocket of his track jacket, sitting down with his back against the wall of the pitch. "I gotta sit for a second, buddy. Hang on." Lance grasped Jon's shoulder tightly as Jon sat down. "Got a letter from Tobias, Lance. Wanted to read it alone."

Jonathan,

I know you weren't expecting to hear from me so soon, or at all. The opening of the MACUSA Embassy was a surprise to me as much as it must be to you.

I received a letter from Headmaster Dumbledore informing me that you had been doing very well thee, both as a student and as a friend for Harry. I'm glad things have gone the way we had hoped. It makes me very happy that you are making friends and building a new life for yourself, even in the shadows of such darkness.

This brings me to the main reason for writing this letter. As much as I do not want to tell you, I must; we have now confirmed that Voldemort did indeed plant the seeds of rebellion amongst the pureblood families here in America. At least one family, the Belby family of California, had planned to pledge allegiance to Voldemort once he rose to power again.

We can now also confirm that Voldemort is indeed back. On her mission to re-establish relations with the Wizarding Council of Greece, Constellation was attacked by a group of Voldemort's followers who call themselves Death Eaters. The ship is fine, and only minor injuries were suffered. One follower of Voldemort was captured, and he admitted to everything under questioning.

Jon shuddered. If Voldemort had followers as far south as Greece, where else could he have followers? And how strong of a fighting force could he muster when he decided to stop playing his game of shadows?

This is why the embassies are being opened. This kind of co-operation between wizarding communities is unprecedented before in history, but Voldemort is a threat nearly without equal. We are trying to use what happened in America as a message of why such co-operation will be required now, and in the future, to prevent anything like this from happening again. As you well know, you can destroy an entire army, but ideas are much more difficult to destroy.

Unfortunately, while we are making strides in forming alliances, I need you to understand a few things. While our embassy there is willing to help you, there isn't really anything they can do. Supplies are about the only thing they can give you. They have absolutely zero pull with the Ministry, and there is no military contingent currently stationed there. This is something we are trying to remedy, but as of now, you are still very much on your own.

Second, it is crucial that you keep as low a profile as you can. Dumbledore included in his letter your feelings towards one Draco Malfoy, and the incident with Dolores Umbridge. I understand that it's going to be very hard for you to keep your head down and not immediately fight for what you know to be right, but you must try, Jon. With at least one family here in America having a known connection to Voldemort, we are doing everything we can to ensure your identity remains a secret. Please don't do anything that would jeopardize you cover; the Ministry will remove you if you're discovered.

Know that everyone here who knows where you are and what you're doing supports you completely. Celeste misses you terribly, and several of the younger students you took under your wing have asked about you. Young Abigail Hancock transfigured an old textbook to a cavalry hat of the Seventh Rangers and she refuses to take it off.

I am very proud of you, Jon, for taking on this immense challenge. I know you will do your best. Just remember to try and reign in the impulses that have become second nature to you. I have the utmost faith you can do it.

With complete confidence,

Tobias Webster

Jon took an unsteady breath. The situation was now much worse than he had even considered. Voldemort had been a major factor in the war. A lot of the pain and suffering Jon had endured was now tied to the monster trying to destroy the world he knew. Beyond that, trying to destroy Harry Potter, someone Jon now considered a friend. This meant that anywhere Harry was could be dangerous, including Hogwarts. "We've got to stop it Lance." Jon reached up and started scratching the back of Lance's head. "We can't let them suffer what we suffered." Lance gave a mournful chirp.

Jon looked back out over the grounds as the sun continued to rise. It was an uncharacteristically clear day for the area so far. A little fog still lingered on the grounds, but the sun was burning it off. The castle shone in early morning brilliance, and signs of life were starting to appear around the castle. Jon reached up and wiped one tear off his face. The last thing Jon wanted to see was another school damaged or destroyed. Something told him, though, there was no escaping it again.

While he sat trying to figure out how he would handle all the challenges that were coming, another chirp from Lance, this one a tone of question, made Jon look back up. A flicker light reflecting off something caught his attention. Focusing his eyes on what it was, he smiled. Luna Lovegood was skipping down a path from the castle to the woods carrying a small bag.

Jon stuffed the letter back into his jacket, chuckling. "Hang on, Lance. I'm getting' up." Once again, Lance grasped tightly into Jon's shoulder as Jon stood up. "Have you met Luna?" Lance looked at Jon puzzled. "Take that as a no. C'mon, I think you'll like her."

Jon started walking to the path Luna had been skipping down. It led down into a edge of, what Jon had been told, was the Forbidden Forest. He hadn't been able to get anyone to tell him why it was named that, but he checked to make sure he had his wand. Or three. After checking and finding all three still snugly in place, Jon entered the forest.

The path led to a small clearing in a bowl, and it was filled with several thestrals and cheerful Luna Lovegood. Luna had knelt and was reaching out to a thestral foal, offering it something to eat. She was wearing a light blue sweater that accentuated her dirty blonde hair that was worked into a messy bun. Radish earrings dangled from her ears and a necklace made of butterbeer caps laid around her neck. A yellow skirt covered her legs; except for her ankles and feet, which were oddly, bare. An amused grin came across Jon's face as he came up behind her. He was about fifteen steps away when…

"Hello, Jonathan."

Jon stopped, feeling confused. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Oh, a Blibbering Humdinger. They often float around people, trying to fill their minds with silly things. This one was quite aggravated; your mind is too strong for it to distract. You're one of the few people I've met that can keep one at bay." Luna's voice maintained her normal ethereal tone, but Jon could tell she was dead serious about what she said.

Lance let out one low, long chirp and Jon just blinked. "I've… Umm. I've never head of a Blibbering Humdinger, Luna." Lance looked at Jon with squinted eyes, as if he were trying to say, 'Because they're not real, you idiot.' Jon cast a sideways glance to his eagle who eventually stopped glaring.

"Oh, that's not surprising. They've never migrated to North America before."

"Well, that's good then. Plenty of things in America to distract people, anyway."

Luna giggled. "I imagine so."

Jon stepped up beside Luna. "So, what brings you out here this morning?"

Luna reached out to pet the thestral foal she had just given a piece of meat to. "I come out here to see the thestrals every year and give them treats. So many of the students can't see them, and those that do usually stay away. It's a shame, really. They're very gentle creatures. Majestic, too. Don't you agree?"

Jon looked over the small herd in the clearing. He'd seen thestrals before, just never this close. They looked like the legendary Pegasus, except their dark skin, red eyes and bony appearance did give them a sinister appearance not befitting their attitude and personalities. They were very gentle, and graceful. The older ones, anyway; the young one in front of Luna was clumsy on its feet and kept stumbling everywhere it went. "They are a certain kind of beautiful. Gothic, almost." Jon supplied.

Luna hmm'd in agreement. "That's a good way to describe them." She finally looked up at Jon. "So this is your eagle."

"Huh? Oh, Lance. Yeah. He's mine."

Luna stood, wiping dirt and leaves off her skirt. "I figured as much. I saw him on the train, but he never came up as a topic of conversation." She extended a hand. "May I?"

Jon lifted his right arm for Lance to shuffle down, bringing him closer to Luna's height. "Yeah, sure. He's fairly gentle. But he doesn't like it when you pet against his feathers…"

No sooner had Jon said that, Luna started petting against the direction of Lance's feathers. Much to Jon's surprise, though, Lance chirped happily, leaning into Luna's hand. "Well, he doesn't like it when I do it…" Jon mumbled.

Lance looked at Jon with a 'What?' kind of expression.

Luna giggled. "He's very expressive."

Jon nodded. "Yeah, he's pretty unique."

As soon as Luna pulled her hand away, Lance launched himself into the air, flying straight up and out of the forest, heading in the general direction of the Black Lake. "How did you two come together?" Luna asked.

"I was out in some woods one day and I stumbled onto a group of… Bullies." Jon said. This wasn't really a lie, just a vague description of a bunch of kids in the R.W.A that were killing woodland creatures because they thought it was fun. "I managed to stop them, but they'd already killed his mom and siblings. He was hurt, but alive. I carried him to a small Native American village; they had a caretaker for magical creatures. He helped me save Lance. As Lance grew up, he just… Attached himself to me. We've been together ever since. I kinda wanted him to stay back home, but he actually bit me when I suggested it."

Luna smiled. "He's a lovely eagle. I understand you worry about him being alone, but I think he'll be fine. Especially if he means as much to you as it sounds. He'd be immensely miserable if you had left him back home."

Jon nodded. "You're probably right." A thought hit Jon. "Luna?"

"Hmm?"

"Thestrals can only be seen by those that have seen death."

Luna nodded. "Yes, that's true." Her ethereal voice sounded a little dampened.

"If you don't mind me asking, how can you see them?"

A flash of sadness crossed Luna's face, but it passed as quickly as it came. "My mum. She loved to create new spells and was constantly experimenting. One day, one of her experiments went badly wrong. I was nine."

"I'm so sorry, Luna."

"Yes. It was rather horrible. I try not to think about it."

'Just how hard can I hex myself?' Jon thought.

"Don't feel bad about asking. It's a normal question that comes to people's minds." Luna said, her voice back to its normal, dream-like quality. "Can I ask how you can see them?"

Jon swallowed. "Well, I suppose it'd be because of my mom and dad. They were killed when the war first started. Oh, that's the…"

"The American Wizarding Civil War. Yes, I read a bit about it. It sounds terrible."

Jon nodded. "It was. My family stood strongly against the pureblood agenda. As a result, some men came to our ranch and killed them."

Luna looked at Jon, sympathy apparent in her large eyes. "I'm sorry, Jon."

Jon shrugged. "It's in the past. There's nothing I can do about it." He took a breath. "Let's get off this miserable topic, eh? What, umm…" He looked down, remembering her bare feet. "Where are your shoes?"

"Oh." Luna looked down, wiggled her toes, then looked back up at Jon. "All of my shoes have seemed to disappear. I suspect the nargles are to blame."

Jon felt his temper rise, but when he looked into Luna's eyes it was as if someone dumped a bucket of water over a fireplace. "Umm. Nargles?"

"Yes. They take my shoes almost every year. They always return them, though, close to the end of the year. Well, mostly. Last year they didn't. But I was outgrowing those shoes anyway, so it didn't matter much."

Jon needed to look away, unable to form a coherent thought staring into Luna's eyes. "Well, that's something, I guess. Aren't you cold, though?"

She shrugged. "A bit, but that's alright. I prefer being barefoot anyway. It's more liberating."

Jon nodded. "Well, that's… Also understandable."

"Oh my."

Jon looked back at Luna, again getting lost. "Oh… You?"

Luna nodded. "Yes. It's the Humdinger. It seems he's finally managed to get to you. Your thoughts are all wishy-washy."

'I don't think it's a humdinger…' Jon thought. "Well, that's not good. I'd like to… Have some coherent thoughts. What, um… What do you suggest?"

Luna smiled. "We should go for a walk. Maybe back to castle. Breakfast wasn't ready when I left, it should be now." She paused with a dreamy look on her face. "I do hope there's pudding."

Jon chuckled. "Pudding does sound good. And I need to clean up."

Luna looked him up and down. "Yes. You are a bit muddy."

Jon turned and held an arm out, pointing back up the path. "Ladies first."

Luna giggled and started walking ahead of Jon. "What do you think of Hogwarts?" She asked.

"It's nice. The school is beautiful, so are the grounds. The staff seem okay; there's a couple I'm not keen about. And most of the students are okay folk. Though once again, there's a few that could stand an attitude adjustment."

Luna nodded. "Yes. Some of them can be quite mean sometimes. But most of them are very nice." She paused. "You've made quite an impression so far."

Jon felt his cheeks get warm. "Wasn't exactly the goal."

"It's bound to happen when you have such a strong personality."

Jon chuckled. "The mountain cannot bow to the wind."

Luna turned and looked at Jon, a small smile on her face. "That's a funny saying. Where does that come from?"

Jon shrugged. "Ancient Chinese proverb, I think."

Luna tilted her head to the side, looking Jon over again. "Yes. Definitely a mountain." She turned and started walking again.

Jon shook his head and started walking himself. "So, what's your favorite class?"

"Oh, I'd have to say… OUCH!" Luna stepped on a thorny vine, cutting her foot open and starting to trip.

Jon stepped up behind her and caught her gently by her shoulders. "Yeah, that's my favorite too." He found a stump that would make a good spot to sit. "Here, come over here." Once he had Luna settled on the stump, he pulled her foot up. "Let me take a look."

It wasn't a large cut, but it was deep, bleeding and there was a thorn stuck in it. Jon cursed himself for not having any kind of med kit. Luna seemed to be pouting. "I'm not sure where that came from. I walked out here just fine. And I walk without shoes all the time."

Jon chuckled. "Well, they do call it the Forbidden Forest. Maybe this is why." Luna giggled while Jon conjured some bandage strips. "It's not terrible. Madam Pomfrey will be able to patch you up. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do as I left all my stuff back at the castle."

"I'm not sure I can walk on it." Luna admitted.

"Then I guess I'll carry ya. Ain't that far to the castle." Jon looked Luna in the eyes, hoping there wasn't a lot of tint to his cheeks. "That okay with you?"

Luna, however, went very pink. "I wouldn't mind."

"Okay then." Jon scooped her up and started carrying her back to the castle, Luna wrapping her left arm behind his neck.

"I'm not too heavy, am I?"

Jon shook his head. "Light as a feather."

"That's good." Luna set her head against his chest as he carried her back.

The walk was silent until the two of them entered the castle. Professor Snape was monitoring the main hallway and saw Jon carrying Luna. Swiftly and smoothly he strode over and intercepted the two of them.

"Is there a reason you're carrying Miss Lovegood, Mr. Lionheart?"

"Yes sir. She cut her foot outside on a thorn. I didn't have anything to help this time, so I conjured some bandages and now I'm taking her to see Madam Pomfrey."

Snape remained expressionless. "And why were you walking around barefoot, Miss Lovegood?"

"I'm afraid the nargles have made off with my shoes, Professor. I'll try to look for them after breakfast."

Snape raised one eyebrow. "Nargles? No, Miss Lovegood, more likely your housemates are pulling a rather tired joke on you. Speak with your prefect about your shoes. As it is, five points from Ravenclaw for you walking the grounds barefoot."

Jon's expression turned to a glare, but Luna only nodded. "I understand, Professor."

"You will want to hurry up, Mr. Lionheart. Breakfast is already been served, and you are in desperate need of a cleanup."

Jon wasn't as good as Luna at keeping his tone neutral. "Yes, sir." He clipped, then started going up the stairs towards the medical wing.

Luna set her had back on Jon's chest. "He can be a little cruel sometimes. I think he had a rough time as a student."

"That doesn't give him the right to take it out on current students. He should be better than that."

Luna nodded. "Yes, but some people have a harder time with who and what they should be than you or I Jon."

Jon looked down at Luna. "You're right. I still don't like it."

"I know. You're very strong willed about what's right and what's wrong. It must be very difficult when life gets a little gray."

Jon nodded. "Sometimes." He was starting to worry that Luna could read a lot more than his face.

As they entered the medical wing, Madam Pomfrey saw them come in and she rushed towards them. "Why do I get the feeling you're going to be bringing me a lot of injuries, Mr. Lionheart?"

Jon smiled. "I promise this was an honest accident. Luna cut her foot on a thorn and I didn't have what was needed to take care of it. I did bandage it, but there's still a thorn in her foot and it'll probably start bleeding again."

Pomfrey nodded, but still looked concerned. "Why were you walking around barefoot outside, dear?"

"Oh, the nargles hid my shoes again." Luna answered matter of factly.

Pomfrey took it in stride. "Well, whatever the nargles have been up to won't do us much good now. Over here, Mr. Lionheart. Set her on this mattress and I'll patch her up." She turned back and looked Jon up and down. "Then you'll want to get cleaned up. Did you honestly go looking for every muddy spot on the grounds?"

Jon chuckled. "It's been raining for almost a week. Your entire island is a muddy spot."

Pomfrey scoffed. "Boys and their reasons." She left to go grab some supplies.

Jon laid Luna down on the mattress. "There you go. You'll be sorted in a jiffy."

Luna smiled. "Thank you, Jon. But you might want to be careful. Carry me too many more times and the school might think you like carrying me."

Jon grinned. "Well if you're not careful, the school might start to think you like having me carry you." The two students blushed before Jon cleared his throat, looking Luna in the eyes, fighting to keep a coherent thought. "I should go. See you later, around school?"

Luna nodded. "I'm sure the wrackspurts will bring us around again."

Jon laughed. "No doubt, Luna." The smile that was on Jon's face left as soon as he turned around. 'Not at all convinced it was nargles.'

Jon moved quickly through the school looking for someone specific. He found her with a group of friends just about to enter the Great Hall. "Padma!" He called.

Padma looked and saw Jon marching towards her. She left her group and met him halfway. "Hey, Jon. I head you were carrying Luna to the med wing?"

Jon nodded. "I did, she's up there now."

"What happened?"

"Oddly, she cut her foot open on a thorn."

Padma winced. "That must have hurt. Was she not wearing shoes?"

"No. Oddly enough, Luna says nargles have hidden all her shoes."

Padma's face fell. "Nargles."

Jon nodded. "Yep. Nargles. Now, I'm not really that great with magical creatures, so I won't debate whether nargles exist or not. But let me ask, why do you think her shoes went missing?"

"Someone must have taken them."

"And that someone, or several someone's, is in Ravenclaw house." Jon crossed his arms. "What happened to trying to change how people saw and treated Luna?"

Padma sighed. "I… I had a talk with everyone, this should have stopped."

"Well it didn't." Jon shook his head. "You're gonna need to do a lot more than give a speech, Padma. Get your house in order."

Padma looked angry. "I'm the prefect here, not…"

"Then start acting like it."

Padma gave Jon a dirty look and a mock salute. "Yes, sir."

Jon shook his head and turned around, walking back up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. "You have no idea…" He muttered.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

The rest of the day had been quiet and relaxing. Initially Jon had wanted to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice, but Hermione suggested that would be a bad idea.

"Unless you want detention, or worse, I wouldn't go if I were you."

Jon looked confused. "You get detention just by watching practice?"

Hermione shook her head. "I saw Draco and a few of his friends heading out to the pitch. With minimal supervision something tells me you'd have no incentive to not demonstrate your," she held up her hands and made air quotes, "'enriched education.'"

Jon held a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I can't believe you think I'd get into trouble with no one to watch out for the little blonde rat…"

"My point exactly."

"And why do you go," Jon mimicked Hermione's hand quotes, "about my education? It was war time, we needed to learn a lot and fast."

Hermione seemed conflicted. "But you know so much more than the rest of us…"

"Are you training for a war?"

Hermione shook her head. "No."

"There you go."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just… A lot of us work really hard for the level of knowledge you already have. Sitting there, watching you just go effortlessly through some of our toughest classes…"

"You feel jealous." Jon supplied, and Hermione nodded. "I get it, Hermione. But believe me, it really is just an enriched education. Classes on top of constant drills. Sunrise to sunset. Sometimes even longer. That's all it is, Hermione. And you know full well I don't know everything."

"I know. I'm sorry."

After that conversation, Jon left Hermione to re-work her essays for the week as Jon went and enjoyed the rest of the day. While he stayed clear of the Quidditch pitch, he did decide to fly his broom around, since he hadn't had the opportunity to fly it since Celeste gave it to him. Pushing it as hard as he could, he soon found the everything Celeste had promised was true. This broom was the fastest he'd ever ridden, and the smoothest. It turned amazingly tight for its speed, and the solid construction gave you the confidence to try anything you could imagine. It also had a very distinctive whistle at high speeds, loud and eerie; enough to scare anyone if you buzzed over their heads.

He flew for about an hour, looping, pulling hammerheads, Wronski feints, corkscrews and flat spins. He stopped flying and hovered high above the grounds, taking in the scenery from the sky. 'Nope. Still more beautiful than Ilvermorny.' Through his flight goggles, the Scottish Highlands were the perfect combination of the Appalachian and Rocky Mountains of the United States, and there was no doubt in Jon's mind he was falling in love with the place.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o - o

Later that evening, Jon, Harry, Hermione and Ron were tucked into a corner in the common room. Harry and Hermione were working on hats for the elves, while Jon and Ron were locked deep in a game of Wizards Chess.

Both sides had lost half of their units, and Ron was squarely on the defensive. Jon had his hands crossed together in front of him, resting his chin on his fingers, while Ron's head moved like a typewriter, constantly scanning the board for moves.

"Bishop to C5." Jon called. The bishop moved to the square Jon commanded.

"I don't get it." Ron mumbled.

Jon looked up at Ron. "Don't get what?"

"I've never had anyone give me such a run." Ron said. "It's like you're reading my mind." He scanned the board again. "Rook to H5." Ron's rook moved to threaten the bishop Jon just positioned.

"What's the matter, Ron? Jon giving you a run for your money?" Hermione called, a level of smugness in her voice. Harry chuckled at her comment.

Jon sat up suddenly and snapped his fingers together. "Hey, I just caught it. You and me," he pointed between himself and Ron. "We could open a surf shop!" The other three looked at Jon completely confused. "You know, Ron-Jon? The surf… Shop? Nothing?" Blank stares greeted him. "Oh for cryin' out loud… Knight to H5."

Jon's knight repositioned itself, drew a broadsword and smashed the hilt over the head of the rook, knocking it out and carrying it to the edge to the board.

"Why didn't I see that!?" Ron cried.

"Long day?" Jon asked innocently.

Overlooking the board again, there was no major piece now that Ron could use to protect his king. He had one bishop and one knight, plus a few pawns; neither his bishop or knight were in range to stop Jon's last rook from shuffling Ron's king into a checkmate. Ron sighed. "I call it, mate. Well played."

Jon extended his hand. "It was. Best two out of three?"

Ron shook his head. "No, I think I'll try to crack out some homework before I go to bed."

Hermione looked at Ron shocked. "Ron Weasley is going to pass up a game of chess to do some homework?"

"Maybe he's not well." Harry suggested.

"Ha ha," Ron called, looking at the two. "At least I'm not knitting clothes for elves. Honestly. Mental." Ron got up and went up the stairs to the dorm.

"He's not used to losing Wizard's Chess." Harry said.

Jon grabbed a book he's brought from the window beside the table he was sitting at and moved from the table to a couch behind Harry and Hermione, laying across the sofa with his head on an armrest. "Well, he's a really tough player. That could have gone either way."

Hermione looked up at him. "Just something else you're exceptionally good at?"

Jon felt his face get warm. "Wizard's Chess is a fun game that if you play it long enough, you will get good at it. It's not my fault."

"Hermione," Harry mumbled. "He doesn't like the attention."

Hermione resumed her knitting. "You could join us, if you wanted. I'm willing to bet knitting socks and hats is something you're probably not good at."

Jon chuckled. "Exactly why I'll not be joining you in any way other than company." Jon lifted his book up and started reading

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Sunday was another relatively calm and relaxing day. Harry and Ron had spent the earlier part of the day wrapping up their last homework assignments, Hermione had talked with all of her girlfriends, and Jon spent the day doing some mild tutoring with Euan and a handful of other first years who were struggling with some charms.

It was now getting close to eleven that night. Hermione and Harry were once again working on hats and socks for the elves, and Ron and Jon had gone back to wizard's chess. They'd played four games, each person winning and losing two each.

Hermione started laughing at a mistake Harry made. "And Ron thinks my hats look terrible!"

Harry looked hurt. "I don't see anyone else volunteering to help you make these!" There was teasing tone to his voice.

Hermione smiled. "Yes, and I really appreciate it Harry." She put a hand on one of his knees. "Maybe, though, you can just keep me company from now on. I only have so much wool." She said, laughing again.

Harry laughed too. "Deal, Hermione."

Jon had turned to watch the two in their own little world. Hermione and Harry sat there for several seconds, Hermione with her hand on Harry's right knee, and Harry with his hand on her arm. They sat like that for several seconds, looking at each other, neither pulling away or moving forward.

Ron noticed too. "Oi! What are you two about?"

The two broke apart and started knitting again. Well, Hermione did. Harry sat back and watched. Ron shook his head. "Mental." He muttered.

Ron returned his attention to the game and the chess match resumed in earnest. After several minutes of moves, counter moves, and pieces being removed, Hermione broke the atmosphere.

"Umm, Ron…"

"Not now Hermione. I think I've got him."

"But Ron…"

"Ssshhhhh!"

Hermione got up, but it was Harry who spoke next. "Ron, I think Hermes is in the window."

Ron's face went from one of deep concentration to one of complete confusion. "What!?"

Hermione pointed to the closest window. "That's what I was trying to tell you. Look!"

Ron looked and realization crossed his face. "Blimey." He got up, walked to the window and opened it, allowing the screech owl to hop in, holding it's leg out to Ron. "I wonder what Percy's writing me for?"

After Ron pulled the scroll away from the owl, it turned and flew back into the night. "Definitely Percy's handwriting…" Ron mumbled.

Hermione seemed anxious. "Open it, Ron."

Nodding, Ron unrolled the scroll and began to read. As he read his face went from confusion to anger, and finally to disgust. "That bloody git!" He thrust the paper towards Hermione, Harry and Jon. "Read it! Go on!"

The three teens read the letter, each one reacting in their own way, and each reaction negatively. Jon reacted audibly first with a whistle. "Wow. With a brother like that, who needs enemies?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, Ron. I mean, if you want to… How'd he put it?"

"Sever ties?" Hermione answered.

"Yeah, that's it." Harry confirmed. "If you want to sever ties with me, I promise I won't get violent." He laughed. "It's actually kind of funny."

Ron yanked the letter out of Harry's hands. "He. Is. The world's. Biggest. GIT!" Ron tore the letter into several pieces and threw in into the fire violently. "The next time I see him I'll give him a piece of my mind." Ron spun and looked at Jon. "We have a game to finish."

As the two boys returned to their chess match, Jon found he was suddenly impressed with Ron's loyalty.

The chess match didn't last long after, as Ron's anger turned him into an absolute madman. Any patterns or predictability Jon had learned was tossed out the window, and since Jon had been playing a more defensive match from the start, he found himself quickly defeated. Jon looked up at Ron impressed. 'Keen mind for strategy. And he will stand up for what's right. You just gotta push him a little. Good to know.' "Well played, Ron."

Ron huffed and sat back in his chair. "Thanks." A pause. "I'm done. Honestly, I swear I could just…" His mood swung again from anger to confusion. "Harry? What on earth are you about?"

"Wha…" Hermione stifled a giggle. "What are you doing, Harry?"

Harry was crawling from in front of the sofa himself and Hermione had been sitting at to the fireplace."I thought I saw Sirius's head in the fire."

Ron's eyes widened and he looked at Jon, almost as if he were afraid of Jon hearing this. Hermione sighed. "It's alright Ron. Harry's already told him."

Ron looked relieved. "Whew."

"I don't think you saw him, Harry. With him being wanted and the Ministry knowing he's in London, it's too dangerous for him to use the floo like that."

"Use the floo like what now?" A new voice called out.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed.

In the fireplace was the face of a man with a heavy shadow and long black hair framing his face. "Yes, pup, it's me. I was a little worried you'd have gone to bed. There were too many students in here the last time I took a quick peek."

Hermione sat in front of the fire place and crossed her arms as Jon and Ron stood behind her and Harry. "You could have been seen, Sirius."

Sirius waved a hand. "I think a student might have seen me earlier. He was a bit older, but he didn't seem to pay any attention. He was too busy talking to a girl."

"Still," Hermione said, sounding as if she disapproved. "It's a bit of a risk."

He waved again. "Nonsense. Besides, it was the only way I could answer Harry's letter without risking it being intercepted." He looked back at Ron. "Hello, Ron. You're looking well." He looked over at Jon. "Ah. You must be Jon Lionheart. Harry mentioned you in his letter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Jon nodded. "Pleasure's mine, sir."

"Wait." Hermione interrupted, looking at Harry. "You wrote Sirius a letter? When!? You didn't mention it to us."

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "I forgot, honestly." Hermione gave him a hard glare. "Oh come on, Hermione. I was careful. There was no way anyone could have figured out what I was asking about, was there, Sirius?"

Sirius grinned. "No. It was a very good letter. But still, we need to be quick. Now, about your scar…"

"What about your scar…" Ron started to ask, but Hermione whacked him in the leg.

"Later, Ron."

Sirius continued. "We're not convinced it's really anything to worry about. I know it's not fun; like having a migraine all the time. But we don't think it means much. Besides, it kept hurting all last year, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Dumbledore mentioned it happens whenever Voldemort feels a strong emotion." Ron and Hermione flinched at the name, but Jon made no new motion, except to look around the room, making sure they were still alone.

"So maybe he was just angry that night." Sirius suggested.

Harry shrugged. "Sure. It's possible, I guess."

"And now that he's back," Hermione supplied. "It's probably going to hurt more often."

Sirius nodded, but Harry still had something on his mind. "So no one thinks it could be related to Umbridge touching me?"

Sirius shook his head. "I doubt it, pup. While I know her reputation, I'm confident she's no Death Eater."

"She's foul enough to be one." Harry grumbled. Ron nodded vigorously while Hermione rubbed Harry's back soothingly and took hold of one of his hands.

Sirius sighed. "Yes, Harry, but the world isn't split into Death Eaters and good people. It's much more complicated than that. I know her reputation, though. You should hear Remus talk about her, he has absolutely nothing nice to say."

"Lupin knows her?" Hermione asked.

"No. But like Death Eaters and their blood supremacy, Umbridge hates part-humans. She wrote a piece of legislation two years ago against werewolves that made it practically impossible for Remus to get a job. She also campaigned to have mer-people rounded up and tagged." Sirius laughed. "S tupid thing to suggest, really, especially when you have little demons like Kreacher running…"

"Sirius Black!" Hermione admonished. "Honestly, if you'd make the effort to treat Kreacher a little better than you do, he'd probably become much easier to be around. You are the only family he's got left, anyhow."

Everyone sat stunned for a moment from Hermione's outburst until Sirius broke the silence, clapping his hands together. "Right. Well, what are lessons with Umbridge like? Is she teaching you how to slay half-humans?"

"Actually," Harry started. "She's not letting us use magic at all."

"All she lets us do it read from the book." Ron grumbled.

"And the book is woefully deficient." Jon spat, Hermione nodding her head in agreement.

Sirius chuckled. "Well, that's expected. Everything we've heard says that Fudge doesn't want you all trained in combat."

"Trained in combat!?" Harry, Ron and Hermione chorused. "What's he afraid we're going to do," Hermione asked. "Start a wizarding army?"

Jon immediately perked up at the thought, and Sirius noticed. "Actually yes, that's exactly what he's afraid of. Especially since Jon showed up."

Everyone looked at Jon who pointed to his chest and an innocent look on his face. "Me?" The he looked thoughtful. "Well, I guess I can see it. I mean, you Brits did lose two wars to us Americans. In our own backyards, too."

Hermione tried to elbow Jon's knees, but he jumped back in time. "You prat."

Sirius laughed. "Not sure that's got anything to do with it. See, Fudge is convinced that Dumbledore is trying to raise his own army and take over the Ministry. Add to that they know what kind of education Ilvermorny has been giving their students over the last few years, and the fact that MACUSA is making all kinds of demands for diplomatic relations but they're not giving any of the same concessions. There's several members inside the Ministry, of who Fudge might be one, who think MACUSA is hiding something. And they think that something is you, and Dumbledore's efforts to take over the ministry."

Jon drummed his fingers together maniacally. "Yes, yes. It's taken us almost two-hundred and fifty years, but finally we shall infiltrate and destroy the British government. Muahahahaha!" Everyone was looking at Jon like he was crazy. He coughed. "Sorry. I thought it was funny."

Harry chuckled. "It is a bit far-fetched if you ask me."

Sirius chortled. "Well, no one's asking you pup. Haven't you heard, you're mad!"

Harry and Sirius laughed before Harry asked another question. "What about the Prophet? Do you know if it'll have anything about Dumbledore in it? Ron's brother hinted something might be."

Sirius shook his head. "I haven't a clue. No one from the Order has been around here all weekend; it's just been me and Kreacher."

"So there's been no news about Hagrid, either?" Hermione asked.

"Well, he was supposed to be back by now. On one's got a clue what's taking him so long." Harry, Ron and Hermione looked like their favorite dog had been kicked. "But Dumbledore isn't worried, and neither am I. Hagrid's a little eccentric, sometimes. Likes to explore at the most inconvenient times. I'm sure he's fine." Sirius said.

"It's been a long while, though." Hermione whispered.

"I'm sure he's fine. He had Madam Maxine with him for most of the journey. They did get separated coming back, but nothing suggests he's in trouble. Stop worrying, and don't ask too many questions about where he is. All you'll do is draw attention to the fact he's not there." Sirius rubbed his hands together. "Now, when is your next Hogsmeade weekend? I thought I'd come up there, seeing as how we got away with the disguise on the platform…"

"NO!" Hermione and Harry shouted.

"No?" Sirius was perplexed.

"We don't think you got away with it." Harry said.

"Didn't you see the Daily Prophet?" Hermione asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Yeah, I saw it. They're always guessing where I am. Honestly, though, they haven't got a clue!"

"They might this time." Hermione said.

"Draco Malfoy said something on the train ride here. It sounded like he knew it was you on the platform. His father, you know, Lucius Malfoy, was there. If you come up here, he'll recognize you…"

Sirius looked hurt. "Alright, fine. I just thought you might like to get together again."

"I would." Harry said adamantly. "I just don't want you getting chucked back into Azkaban."

This made Sirius seem like he was disappointed in what Harry said. "You know, Harry. You're less like your father than I thought. The risk is what would have made it fun for James."

Now Harry looked hurt. "Sirius…"

"I think I need to go. Kreacher's coming and we wouldn't want him to catch me. I'll send you an owl to set up a time for us to talk again, yes? If you think you can handle the risk." With a pop, Sirius Black was gone.

Harry fell back into a sofa, looking like he'd just let down his hero. "He doesn't get it…"

Hermione moved and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "He's just frustrated, Harry."

"Harry, what does Sirius mean to you?" Jon asked.

Harry sniffed. "He's… He's the only family I have left, really. He was my fathers' best friend. He…"

Jon nodded. "I get it." He sighed. "He sounds like a man of action." Harry nodded. "Well, Hermione's right, then. If he's stuck in one place, it's… Frustrating. Plus it's obvious he likes you, and wants to spend time with you. Sometimes… That desire can blind someone to things like caution. They take offense to it, if that makes sense." Harry didn't seem cheered up. "I'm sure it'll be okay, Harry. Talk to him next time about how you feel, about why you worry."

Hermione nodded. "He'll understand Harry."

Harry nodded. "I hope."

Ron yawned. "Why don't we sleep all this off?"

The four teens started making their way to bed.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

And there we go, chapter 11.

As a side note, I discovered an error in the last chapter and fixed it. It was about George and Fred. Just a light error, easily fixed. Sorry.

I hope you liked this chapter.

Sadly, expect a delay in updates from this point on, and I really mean it this time. I just got blessed with a couple extra days to write and took advantage of it.

Also, I'm including a deleted scene I wrote.

So I wrote this particular moment, but decided to cut it. I'm letting you all read it… For giggles, I guess.

I decided to cut it for several reasons. For one, it's too heavily based in other pop culture. I don't mind a reference now and then; a lot of them can be funny and perfect for the moment. But this was practically built on references, so I pulled the plug.

Another reason is character driven. Jon is trying, desperately, to behave the way that he needs to behave to avoid getting into trouble, or worse, thrown out. After I wrote this, I realized that there was no way Jon would be able to get away with his actions here; he'd wind up in detention or, yes, even worse, expelled.

So I had to pull it. But since it was written, and a slightly more childish part of me enjoyed it, I decided to share it as a sort of deleted scene.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o - o – o – o - o

Looking back down over the school Jon saw two groups of students leaving the Quidditch pitch, and the first kid in the second group had blonde hair. 'Malfoy.' Grinning madly, Jon dove and pushed his Mustang as hard as it would go. Under one hundred feet, Jon started pulling back and levelled out with less than ten feet of altitude. Streaking like a bullet he raced for the line of students walking from the pitch, shouting out a rebel yell as he flew overhead, his Mustang whistling like a mad demon. Every kid in the second group fell face flat on the ground; at least one of them, most satisfyingly, screamed as if they were witnessing a murder.

The first group, the Gryffindor's, chanted and hollered as Jon climbed straight up for three hundred feet, pulled a hammerhead stall to the right, and shot back to the first group of students, coming to a gentle hover next to Harry and Ron. "Beautiful day to go flying, isn't it?" Jon asked, a massive grin on his face.

Harry and Ron came to either side of his broom. "Bloody brilliant, mate!" Ron yelled.

"Poor Ickle Snakies," Fred and George shouted towards the Slytherin students who were picking themselves out of the dirt, brushing off each other's clothes. Draco looked both angry and white as a ghost.

"I think you scared Draco into speechlessness." Harry laughed.

Jon pulled his goggles off. "I'd settle for scaring him into a new pair of pants." The whole group of Gryffindor's laughed, except for Angelina, who was marching up to Jon angrily.

"If you can fly like that, and have a broom that fast, why didn't you try out for the team?"

Jon shrugged. "Didn't want to. Just 'cause I can fly a broom doesn't mean I'm any good at Quidditch. I never played back at Ilvermorny, and I've got enough on my plate just… Getting adjusted."

Angelina crossed her arms. "Well, consider joining next year. The team could use someone as fast as you."

Jon gave a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am."

The Slytherin's marched up to the group, Draco still white as a ghost, pointing angrily at Jon. "You could have killed us!"

Jon looked at Draco amused. "I don't know what you mean, Draco. I was just flying over you. That's not something dangerous to do." Jon maneuvered his broom a little closer to Draco. "Unless you're telling me you've never seen a fast broom before?"

"I've seen plenty of fast brooms. I'm the best broom rider in the school."

Jon kept talking as if he hadn't heard him. "It can be kinda scary, that first time. The speed… Makes your heart do funny things."

"I already said I've seen…" Draco was growling.

Jon interrupted him again. "Were you the one that screamed like a little girl?"

Draco snapped. He lunged forward and grabbed Jon by his jacket, dragging him off his broom. Jon, however, had been hoping for this reaction. He twisted himself so his left arm would fall behind Draco's neck. Once his arm was wrapped around Draco's neck, he twisted again, writing himself and causing Draco to fall head-over-heels and onto his back.

After the two students landed, Jon rolled away from Draco, working himself into a squat roughly ten feet away. Draco flung himself up. "You arse…" Draco went for his wand.

Jon put his right hand on his. "Do it, Draco. Skin that wand and see how far you get."

Draco thought for a moment, then his temper won out and he pulled his wand and called out a stunning hex.

Jon yanked his left hand in front of him, flicking his wrist and causing a second wand to slide into his hand. Holding the wand sideways, a massive blue circular shield appeared, deflecting Draco's hex and knocking into Crabbe, who fell backwards, moaning. Drawing his main wand, Jon shot his right arm forward not saying anything, and Draco's wand came flying towards him.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Another reason I included this was my action scenes, as noted in a story I wrote a while ago, were noted as not being completely believable. So I wanted to toss this out there and see if anyone had any suggestions or notes on what was okay, and what could have been done better.

That's all. Again, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and the deleted scene. Like I said, expect it to be a while for another update, but I promise this story is not abandoned in any way.

Thanks for reading, faving and subscribing. Comments, suggestions, and error corrections are appreciated!