Happy slightly late Valentines Day, everyone! And I am not going to comment on the irony of posting a chapter about a totally different holiday on this one. Nope, not even going to acknowledge it. At all.

Instead, I am going to be talking about something else. (Like you haven't figured that one out by now. Really.) I'm going to talk about the IDW Ghostbusters comic series.

It's actually really well done. I don't remember why I started reading it, but I found it online when I think I was looking for the old NOW's Real Ghostbusters comic series. A couple months later and I now own every volume of both the Ongoing and International series, the IDW Ghostbusters Omnibus, the 2015 and 2017 annuals, and (of course) Ghostbusters Get Real. (I also own both of the old Real Ghostbusters comic series Omnibuses (Ominbi?), but I'm not going to talk about them this time, fun as they are.) They were so brilliant I actually had to own my own copies. And I highly recommend them. Also, there are cross overs. Syndicated cross overs. I mean, I don't want to spoil anything, but Ghostbusters International actually has the team recruiting the Real Ghostbuster's Egon to help them when their Egon... goes missing. Yes, let's go with that. It's a lot of fun.

Also I may or may not have suffered a slight conniption at the end of the 2017 annual... There's a new 6 part story planned with the first installment being released this March called Ghostbusters 101 that's supposed to be this massive Ghostbusters cross over... including the new movie. (I have very mixed feelings about that movie. And very excited, excited, excited feelings about this cross over.)

And now, because it's most likely that none of you actually read anything I write above the chapter title, on with the show!

Chapter Five: In Which There is a Duel, and Harry Does Thanksgiving

Herbology was actually an interesting subject.

Oh, Harry would never love it like Janine did (she kept a small selection of both magical and non magical plants growing on the roof of the Firehouse), but it was one of the two most important classes he could take at Hogwarts.

The other being, of course, Care of Magical Creatures. Because seriously, the number of magical creatures (dead or not) he came up against in his family's line of work…

To be honest, at one point, he wouldn't have thought much of Herbology either way. Maybe picked up on a bit to better understand a few of the rituals that require plants, but apart from that, not much. And then he'd heard the story of the reason geraniums were not allowed in the Firehouse. (1)

Suddenly, Herbology seemed a much more intriguing topic.

However, this did not mean that he was doing well in the class. Mostly because he was getting very different things out of it than his classmates.

While they learned how to care for the plants and what they liked, Harry instead took very careful note of what they hated. How to kill or contain them if necessary, and all the other little tips he could to generally make the lives of plants as miserable as possible.

(Not that he would sadistically set out to make plants miserable, just that he could if he needed to. Fire was his friend.)

So, Harry actually paid attention in Herbology, and therefore actually learned, even if it was a different selection of lessons than most of the students. The only major problem was that Ravenclaws had the class with the Slytherins.

Harry didn't have anything against Slytherins in general. He was half certain if Peter had gone to Hogwarts, his quick talking ways would have landed him in Slytherin.

(Actually, he'd assigned houses to each of the Ghostbusters-Peter, Slytherin; Ray, Hufflepuff; Egon, Ravenclaw; and Winston, Gryffindor. Janine was still a bit up in the air, but he was leaning towards Gryffindor for her, as well.)

Besides Harry's private assertion that Peter was Slytherin, he knew some of the ones closer to his age. Daphne Greengrass was always good for a debate. Tracey Davis was downright hysterical (in a very deadpan manner). Blaise Zabini was so much like a mini Venkman, Harry was certain it would be giving him nightmares in a few years.

No, Harry had nothing against Slytherins in general.

But he seriously had something against Draco Malfoy.

Upon hearing of his intense dislike of the other boy, his fathers had been largely unhelpful. Ray had suggested trying to find common ground and befriending the boy.

...That wasn't going to happen. Harry hated him too much. He was a self absorbed little asshole.

Winston had offered the idea of just ignoring him.

...Also not going to happen. Malfoy was just too obnoxious to be ignored.

Egon, who could count on one hand the number of times he'd really lost his temper with a thumb left over (most recently at a Russian scientist who'd insulted Albert Einstein before attempting to release an Old One (and wasn't it a good thing that man had ended up in prison?)), couldn't really offer anything of use. (2)

And Peter had just snickered and yelled something to the others about how Harry had found his own little Peck.

Decidedly unhelpful.

No, it was Janine who gave him the best advice.

"All through life, you're going to have to put up with smug, self-entitled asses like this kid," she'd said. "It's good practice to figure out how you're going to act towards them now. And you will have to. God knows I do all the time."

Harry had nodded and made a mental note to hire a secretary as soon as he could.

Okay, that probably wasn't the lesson she wanted him to learn. But hey, it was a good one.

The only problem was that it didn't help him in the here and now.

"One of these days, that kid is going to find himself on the wrong end of a proton stream," Harry hissed quietly to Hermione and Evie as he furiously re-potted a plant he'd already forgotten the name of. But the small tendrils kept reaching out to wrap around his fingers.

"Protonic reversal is not something to threaten someone with lightly," Evie pointed out calmly.

"It it not lightly," Harry growled, tugging his hand away from one of the vines. "It is deliberate, with great foresight and malice. I do not like him."

"Sam I am," Hermione mumbled, causing Evie's lip to twitch.

"And he seems to seek us out every class, just to give us a hard time," Harry continued, as though he hadn't heard her.. "It's getting nigh intolerable-"

"Potter!"

"Speak of the fucking dalkhu," Harry grumbled.

Hermione, fed up with Malfoy as she was, didn't comment on his language.

The three turned to face the blond Slytherin.

"So, you actually showed up for class, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Thought you wouldn't appear so ordinary if you just showed up to prove your prowess at your best subject?"

"Hey, anyone who thinks Herbology is my prowess deserves to be an idiot," Harry commented, pasting on a grin.

"You're killing your plant again," Evie spoke up.

Harry glanced down. In his anger, his hands had begun smouldering, and the plant was trying to get as far away as it could. "Really?" he asked, sounding delighted. "Cool."

"Come off it, Potter, no one believes you have a real magical bone in your body," Malfoy snorted.

"Depends on your definition of magical, really," Harry argued, leaning back on the table. "I mean, by now I could do six different exorcisms in my sleep. Just because I think wanded magicks are a load of shit-"

"Prove it, then," Malfoy said, jumping on it a little too eagerly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"Wizards' duel," Malfoy said immediately.

"No," Evie countered flatly.

Harry glanced over to her, only mildly surprised. "Why not?"

"Because the definition of Wizards' duel he's going by is no doubt the one defined by Abraham Johannesburg in 1566, in his treatise, The Civilized Wizard's Duel," Evie explained. "It requires only wanded magicks be used and only in the manner this school trains in. In short, it's a specialized bit of shit."

Harry cracked a real grin at that. He couldn't help it. Evie was always funny when she swore, mostly because she did it so rarely. "So, that's a no then, Malfoy."

Malfoy's face twisted, clearly ready to call Harry out on being a coward, when Evie beat him to it.

"However, Harry would be happy to face you in a Magical duel."

This caused all three to look at her in surprise.

"A Magical duel, as defined by Aquila Black in 942 (though the histories of such duels go back further), does not require any specific types of casting, only that magical casting be used by both parties. Draco is free to use his wand, Harry is free to use whatever casting types he chooses. The one caveat is no one is to permanently harm each other, or cast any such magicks that could do so," Evie rattled off. "A full listing of such magicks can be requested from any reasonable government."

"Why the hell do you know this?" Harry asked, a tone of wonder in his voice.

"Why don't you?" Evie shot back.

Malfoy looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Fine, then. A magical duel it is. Tonight, at midnight, in the trophy room."

"No, magical duels require an audience," Evie argued calmly. "To ensure fair and unbiased rulings."

"We should have Professor Flitwick officiate," Hermione offered. "He was a dueling champion. If anyone knows the rules of magical dueling, it would be him."

Harry glanced at her in confusion, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh my God, Harry, he's our head of house! Teaches charms?"

"The short one?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Hermione looked ready to bang her head against the table.

"We could perhaps have it in the Great Hall, after dinner," Evie mused. "That would satisfy the requirements."

Malfoy looked again like he'd bitten off more than he could chew, but he nodded. "Yes, of course. More people to see your failure." He forced a sneer. "Do you have a second?"

"Evie, of course," Harry said, as though it were obvious. "Do you?"

Malfoy glanced over at the two heavy set boys who followed him around. "...Crabbe. See you after supper, then, Potter." He strode off.

"Idiot," Harry sighed, shaking his head. He glanced to Evie. "Was any of that actually true?"

"All of it," Evie agreed. "You know, in any other situation, I would question your using me as your second. I'm not a very powerful witch."

"But…?" Harry pressed, knowing she would get it.

"...But my strength here lies in the unknown. Even Hermione would be casting spells using a wand focus, and it's highly unlikely Malfoy has ever even met a runic caster before," Evie determined.

"That's it!" Harry said cheerfully. "Well, that and the fact that even if you sucked royally, I was still going to be pulling you in. Rule number 1, am I right?"

"...I'm not sure Malfoy counts as a malicious ghost," Evie said slowly.

"I will bust that mitu," Harry declared, ignoring her. (3)

"He's not a mitu," Evie pointed out flatly.

"I don't care. He's going down. I hate him. I-" Harry trailed off, making strangling motions as he tried to verbalize his feelings.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry jumped at Professor Sprout's (that was her name, right? The ironic one?) shout. He spun around to find his plant had splayed out and was smoking slightly.

"We are trying to save the Devil's Snare, not slay it!"

"Woah," Harry said, unable to keep a grin off of his face. "And I wasn't even trying."

HP/RGB

By dinner time, Hermione had worked herself into a ridiculous state.

"...so if he tries that, you can-"

Harry stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, breathe."

Hermione gave him a look of desperation. "Harry, I…"

"It'll be fine," he assured. "I've been busting ghosts for over five years now. I've learned a lot of magicks during that time. I could probably go toe to toe with a full demon if I had to. Not that I would ever want to… on my own."

"Yes, you would," Evie said, not looking up from her book on runes.

"Yes, I would," Harry admitted, grinning again. "Not that I would-"

"Yes, you would," Evie said again, still not looking up.

"Okay, yeah, I would," Harry agreed. "My point is, I can take a little brat like Malfoy."

Hermione blinked, before glancing over at Evie. "Could he really go toe to toe with a demon?"

"No," Evie said flatly. "He's exaggerating to make you feel better. …But it suddenly occurs to me that you didn't need to know that." (4)

Harry facepalmed. "Evie, you're killing me here."

"But Harry is correct to be confident against Malfoy," Evie assured quickly. "Unless Malfoy has been learning higher magicks, which, as he asked for a wizard's duel as opposed to a magical one, I highly doubt."

Hermione frowned. "But what if-"

"Forget it," Harry said, slapping her on the back. "I'll be fine. Even if I lose, they're not about to let Malfoy kill me. Or maim me. Or anything, really."

Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Harry, you are going to be the death of me."

"Well, yes, but it's going to be a really fun death," Harry pointed out. "And that's what counts, doesn't it?" (5)

"No!"

Now, Harry hadn't made a big deal out of the duel. Malfoy, who'd been planning originally on ditching Harry and letting him be caught outside his common room after hours, hadn't said much either.

So, naturally, the whole school knew.

As soon as the clock struck nine, and dinner had officially ended, the tables were shoved to the side to make a good space for the duel, and a few of the older students had been recruited to cast a ward around the area, to protect any spectators.

Harry gave Evie a sidelong glance. "...Evie?"

"All I did was speak with Professor Flitwick," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I have no control over eavesdropping students."

"...Of course you don't," Harry said dryly. "And you certainly wouldn't hold off on talking to him until the best moment for other students to eavesdrop."

"Of course not," Evie agreed. "That would require extensive planning ahead, and an intense desire for people to stop underestimating you."

Harry's deadpan expression said it all. "...One of a kind, Spengs. One of a kind."

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Malfoy? If you would step forward?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry moved into the space, seeing Malfoy on the other side of the clearing. Professor Flitwick stood in the middle of the space, ready to preside over the duel.

Dumbledore took that moment to try and interrupt. "Just what is going on here?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, Headmaster," Flitwick assured him. "Mr. Malfoy here challenged Mr. Potter to a magical duel."

Harry punctuated this by pulling a runestone from his pocket and tapping it against his palm. Runes weren't his specialty or anything, but he'd carved this one earlier that afternoon, with Evie looking over his shoulder. Just because he didn't believe Malfoy was much of a threat didn't mean that he wouldn't be going into this with his eyes wide open with half a dozen tricks up his sleeves… or in his pockets, as the case may be.

"A duel?" Dumbledore asked. "In that case, as headmaster, it falls to me to ensure that every precaution is followed."

"Of course, Headmaster," Harry agreed. "Which is why Professor…" He glanced at Evie.

"Flitwick," she mouthed.

"...Flitwick is presiding over our duel," Harry finished.

"Nonsense, my boy," Dumbledore chuckled. "Why, I've presided over at least a dozen wizards' duels before."

"Headmaster, this is not a wizards' duel," Flitwick corrected, raising an eyebrow. "And as I am the only one on staff familiar with the rules of magical dueling as opposed to those of a wizards' duel, it falls to me to ensure the rules are met."

There was an outbreak of whispering from the watching students. Clearly, they hadn't known the distinction.

"...A magical duel?" Dumbledore repeated, sounding confused.

"If you've never seen one, Headmaster, you're in for a treat," Flitwick said with a grin. "Even if the students are young, it's quite a sight."

Harry tucked the runestone back in his pocket, pulled his wand, and spun it in his fingers. Oh, yeah, he was ready.

"Now," Flitwick continued, "if everyone would step outside of the boundary? Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy? Are you prepared?"

"Anytime," Malfoy said coldly, relaxing into a dueling stance.

Harry grinned, not getting into any stance, continuing to bounce on the balls of his feet and spin his wand in his hand. "Bring it, kalbi."

Though only Evie understood exactly what he'd said, it was clear Harry had just insulted Malfoy. Hermione glanced towards Evie, hoping for some clue, but Evie's face was carefully blank.

Flitwick backed up. "Three. Two. One. Begin!"

On the last shout, Malfoy immediately sent a curse. "Expelliarmus!"

Harry sidestepped the curse easily. He actually slid his wand back away. He wasn't planning on using focus casting at all during this duel.

Malfoy, clearly angry about the fact that Harry actually had the gall to sheath his wand, sent another several curses towards him. Harry continued to side step, instead pulling a rune stone from his pocket, the same one he'd been playing with earlier, and ducking down to place it on the ground.

Harry hummed lightly as he placed the stone, before standing again and moving about a foot and doing the same thing with another stone. He did the same thing twice more, so there was a rough square on the ground.

Then, and only then did he turn to Malfoy, who was growing extremely frustrated.

"Stand still and fight, Potter!" he shouted, sending another couple curses.

"Well," Harry sighed, shaking his head, "when you put it like that…"

And then he moved.

It was fast, wandless, a sharp kinetic cast. His foot swung up and to the side, magic following, closing the distance to strike Malfoy physically, hard in the cheek, sending him stumbling.

"Kinetic casting," Harry lectured, as Malfoy recovered from the blow. "A master can kill you from across the room a dozen different ways, and conjure incredible things in moments. I'm just an amature, but it's enough to strike unexpectedly."

Malfoy snarled and cast again. "Your ridiculous casting won't help you here! There's only one real way to use magic!"

"Nusku Imhas Lukur," Harry cast, not moving his body except to dodge the spell. Malfoy again found himself physically struck from the side, sending him to the ground this time. (6)

"Verbal casting," Harry continued to lecture, circling Malfoy as he struggled to his feet. "A master's abilities are nearly limitless, but very few can truly master it. Then again, you don't need to truly master it to do something as simple as that."

Malfoy, finally recovering, snarled at Harry, before charging towards him. He got two steps in, before Harry spoke again.

"Activate!"

Malfoy ran into a shimmering, translucent wall that snapped into existence in front of him. He fell back slightly, before looking around in shock. He was completely trapped, with four walls of magic, each about three feet long and ten feet tall surrounding him.

Harry stepped forward again. "Runic casting. With the right runes and preparation… well, you'd be surprised what's possible." He grinned. "I believe the duel is mine."

"You… you!" Malfoy shouted. "You didn't even fight like a proper wizard!"

"That depends on your definition of wizard, doesn't it?" Harry asked lightly, unsheathing his wand.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Flitwick asked. "Can you free yourself? Are you able to continue the duel?"

Malfoy slammed a hand against the wall, but it held firm. "You-!"

Harry rolled his eyes and pointed his wand at Malfoy. A quick wordless spell sent the boy to the floor. "He's asleep," Harry explained. "I figured that would end the duel faster."

"The duel is over," Flitwick called, rather unnecessarily. "Mr. Potter wins!"

Harry grinned as he slid his wand away and ducked down to pick up his runestones. As soon as he removed one, the walls vanished. Gathering them, he walked off, whistling.

At least until Evie smacked him upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for!"

"That was for relying on those runestones!" Evie snapped.

"They seemed to work rather well to me," Hermione said with a frown. "Why do you say they weren't?"

"Because they were easy to break," Evie answered.

"They seemed fine, though," Hermione said, confused. "I mean, he couldn't break it down, couldn't… oh. He could have picked up a stone and broken the ward at any time, couldn't he."

"Yeah, pretty much," Harry agreed. "That's okay, though, I had a partial exorcism next that would have trapped him in place. And I could pull my wand if I needed to."

"You are so lucky Malfoy's an idiot," Evie sighed.

"Well… yeah," Harry agreed. "That was kind of the point of the duel, though. And now the whole school knows I'm no pushover, which is what I'm assuming you were going for."

"Well, you know what happens when you assume," Evie pointed out calmly.

"You mean that wasn't your goal?" Harry asked, stopping in place as Evie continued onwards.

"I didn't say that. I was just reminding you," Evie called back to him.

Harry blinked as he tried to puzzle that out. "But… you… you… Evie! What did you mean?! Get back here!"

HP/RGB

"Hermione…. Hermione…. Hermione…"

"Yes, Harry?" Hermione asked, slightly exasperated at her friend. She was trying to read a book, and he was bugging her to the best of his abilities.

"Do British people celebrate Thanksgiving?"

"No, Harry."

"Well, Slimer's gonna be pissed. He loves that holiday."

"Yes, Harry." (That was kind of obvious, after all.)

"Say, we should have our own Thanksgiving! The elves would love that! A mini-feast, maybe in one of that classrooms-"

As Harry's words grew fainter as he chattered on, Hermione's answer came instinctively. "No, Harry."

And then she looked up. "Harry? Where did you…. Oh. Crap."

HP/RGB

"Let's do Thanksgiving!" Harry shouted, bursting in the door to the classroom that had become Evie's make-shift lab. He and Hermione had helped push in more tables and blackboards and arrange them in a vaguely lab-like manner.

...It still looked sort of like a classroom.

"Why are we 'doing' Thanksgiving?" Evie asked, not looking up from a machine that was giving off puffs of smoke. She jotted something down on the clipboard she was holding.

"Because we can? Because we should? Because Slimer will be heartbroken if we don't?" Harry asked. "Take your pick. Did you know they don't celebrate it here?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm well aware of the fact that Thanksgiving is a purely American holiday." She paused a moment. "And Canadian."

"Well, why can't we celebrate it?" Harry asked. "Come on, it'll be fun! I bet we can get a bunch of kids who'll enjoy a proper American Thanksgiving!"

"I'm not sure it's the best idea," Evie said slowly. "It's seems too much like we'd be forcing a holiday on people who don't celebrate it."

"It'll be fun!" Harry repeated, sing-song.

"Do you remember what happened last Thanksgiving?" Evie asked dryly.

"Uh…"

Yes, he very much remembered last Thanksgiving, but since a giant ghost/mutant turkey wasn't a very good argument for a Thanksgiving celebration…

"...Nope. Not a clue."

Evie sighed, finally looking up from her machine. "Harry. If I tell you to not have a celebration and refuse to offer any assistance, will you go ahead and have one anyways?"

Harry tilted his head in consideration. "...Yep, that pretty much sums it up."

"Alright," Evie said, nodding once. "I'll help. But only if you get Hermione on board."

Harry winced. He'd really been counting on Evie's help on that front.

"...Okay. I get Hermione to agree, and you'll help me put together an awesome Thanksgiving feast?"

"That is what I just said," Evie agreed. "Why? Do you think you can't get Hermione to agree without me?"

"I'm not sure I can get her to agree with you," Harry muttered, before straightening up. "No, no, nothing like that! Just confirming! I'll come back later, with her totally convinced! You'll see!" He dashed from the lab, head still high.

"I'm sure you will…" Evie murmured, a strange smirk coming over her features as she turned back to her machine. "I'm sure you will…"

HP/RGB

Harry knew well enough to never approach a situation directly if you already knew what the outcome was. In such situations, you had to get creative. Approach from the side. Above. Below. But never head on.

Which meant that he couldn't just go up to Hermione and inform her she was going to be helping him. He had to approach this sneakily.

Like… like a Slytherin. (Not that there was anything wrong with them, even if the Bond-wannabe was a little shit.)

So, how best to approach this? He had several ideas.

HP/RBG

Plan A: Casual Approach.

Harry laid flopped backwards over a chair, looking at Hermione, who was reading a book on runes Evie had gotten her.

"Hey, Hermione," he said.

Hermione didn't look up. "Yes, Harry?"

"Did we ever get back at that redhead who insulted you?" Harry asked.

Apparently, this was a dangerous enough topic for Hermione to lower her book. "You mean the one on Halloween? I don't think so. Why?"

"Well, we have to do something, don't we?" Harry asked, waving his hands. "We can't let him get away with it! Hey, maybe Slimer can do something!"

Hermione seemed to falter. "Well… maybe…"

"We'll have to bribe him with something afterwards, though," Harry mused. "Say, like… a mini-feast?"

"You're still on the Thanksgiving thing," Hermione realized, going back to her book.

"What? No!" Harry denied, a little too quickly. "I just… think Slimer would like it, and if it just happened to occur on Thanksgiving-"

"Not interested, Harry."

Damn it. On to Plan B.

HP/RGB

Plan B: Guilt.

Harry had practiced real focus casting before, where you just had a focus and pushed magic through it to take the shape you wanted. He was pretty good at it, too, all things considered.

Hermione had wanted to learn. So, Harry had showed her a few tricks, and was teaching her how to dual. It was a simple matter to, at the next lesson, line up his book bag and wait for the inevitable accident.

(He'd had practice. Sometimes they needed to trick a ghost into hitting something, and Harry had played bait before. (Though Janine usually got mad at someone following that.)) (7)

So Harry lined himself up with the bag, and dodged when appropriate, and hid a smirk when Hermione's spell impacted the bag, slicing the strap neatly in two.

"My bag!" Harry yelped.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Hermione cried, moving to the bag. She bent over it with her wand and an intense look of concentration.

"I can't believe you wrecked my bag!" Harry moaned. "I need that for all sorts of things. But I'm sure you can make it up to me someho-"

"Got it!"

Hermione proudly displayed the bag, which she had successfully mended. "It looks like I'm getting better at this, wouldn't you say, Harry? ...Harry? Why are you just staring into space?"

Plan B: Failure.

HP/RGB

Plan C: Bribery.

Harry dropped the massively heavy book he was lugging around on the table. It made a thumping noise and shook the table strongly enough to make Hermione look up from her current homework.

He took a moment to breathe. That book was heavy!

"It has come to my attention that you very much enjoy old, large, out of print tomes such as this one," Harry began, patting the cover. "I had to get my uncles to send over a copy. It has also come to my attention that I need some help with my Thanksgiving plans. Perhaps we can reach some sort of an accord?"

As he finished, he put on his best smile.

And yes, Hermione's interest was definitely perked. She looked curious, and intrigued as she scanned the book.

"So," she said slowly, sliding over. "What kind of accord are you talking about, here?"

"Oh, nothing too bad," Harry drawled, trying not to smirk at the way Hermione seemed to almost be drooling at the book. Peter had been right. People always had their price. It was just finding it that was the trouble. "Just-"

"Hang on," Hermione said abruptly, sliding back. "I've already read that one."

"...What?"

"That's one Evie lent me early on for a better comprehension of types of magic," Hermione explained, nodding towards it. "The Complete History of Magicks, isn't it?"

"Er…" Harry glanced at the title. Damn it. "...No?"

"Harry, I'm not going to make that kind of a deal for a book I've already read and have access to. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure Evie has access to all your books. I can just ask her for a copy if I want to read anything."

Oh, now that just wasn't fair.

Onto Plan D.

HP/RGB

Plan D: Blackmail.

The problem with his brilliant plan D was simply that Hermione did not have an embarrassing past to take advantage of. Or, at least, not one he had ready access to.

This had never been an issue at the Firehouse. Everyone had blackmail on everyone.

EVERYONE.

Ray, Peter, and Egon had the largest collections, of course, dating back to their college days. Harry wasn't even sure what half of that stuff was, as the three refused to tell him most of the worst stuff.

Janine and Winston had both cottoned on to owning their own blackmail collection pretty quickly, though, and with the hoops they had to jump through in their line of work, it wasn't hard to make one. Hell, even Slimer had a good sized collection!

So, when one person wanted to blackmail the other, it usually turned into an amusing sort of ping-pong game back and forth until one person gave up.

(Best ping-pong game ever!)

However, this did not solve his current issue. He had blackmail material on his parents. On Slimer. Even on Evie.

He did not have anything on Hermione.

This was the extent of his current problem. It was a very big problem.

So he called Janine. And begged for her help.

Janine could work a computer and network like no one else he knew. After assuring her he wouldn't use it for anything bad, and her refusing to find anything really good, he did end up with a school picture of a six year old Hermione from her kindergarten years.

That… could work.

Harry approached Hermione in their abandoned classroom, when Evie had locked herself in a sort of soundproof booth to get better readings on one of the machines.

"Hey, Hermione," he said slyly, sidling up to her.

Hermione, who was taking notes for Evie on several dials on a totally different machine, barely spared him a glance. "Yes, Harry?"

"So, I came across something the other day," he said. "A certain… ah… photo."

Hermione turned from the dials to give him a blank stare. "What?"

"You see," Harry continued proudly, "if you don't assist me with my Thanksgiving feast, I'm going to post it up in the common room." He proudly passed her the photo. "And that's not my only copy, before you think of tearing it up."

Hermione stared at it for a moment. "...I'm not even going to ask where you got my school picture."

"So, do we have a deal?" Harry asked eagerly, smirking as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Foolproof plan!

"Ah… no," Hermione said with a shake of her head. She passed the photo back. "Go ahead and put it up. It's actually kind of cute. I don't mind."

Harry blinked, not immediately reacting. "I- you- … what?"

Hermione smiled, holding the picture up so he could compare the two. "Much better than now, don't you think? And cute."

Scowling, Harry snatched the photo back. "Fine, oh she-of-the-no-embarrassment. I will find something on you one of these days."

"Hm," Hermione agreed noncommittally as she turned back to the dials.

There was a muffled explosion from a corner of the room, and a second later, Evie staggered from the soundproof booth, surrounded by a heavy cloud of smoke.

"WE HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE PLANS FOR THE PROTON CANNON," she said, speaking too loudly. "I'LL NEED TO CONSULT WITH UNCLE EGON."

Harry cupped his hands over his mouth. "But the soundproofing works great!" he shouted, before giving a thumbs up.

Evie stared at him for a second. "...WHAT?"

HP/RGB

Plan E: Beg.

Okay, so he had pretty much run out of options at this point. He had pretty good puppy dog eyes, but he knew that wouldn't leave any impression on Hermione. No, what he needed now was to dig deep within himself. To find…

The energy to annoy Hermione until she couldn't possibly say no.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"..."

"Please?"

"..."

"I'm not hearing a no here."

The next thing Harry knew, he had been immobilized and was lying on the ground, unable to move or speak.

...Okay, after three hours of putting up with him? Harry was honestly surprised it had taken her this long to snap. It was just too bad it wasn't in the way he'd wanted.

She left him there for another hour before releasing him to scurry back to him dorm and work on plan F. Which didn't exist yet.

HP/RGB

Plan F: Fail.

Well, he was out of ideas. He'd tried, but he couldn't come up with anything. At all.

That meant he'd probably have to plan the Thanksgiving thing himself, but he'd do it. For the turkey!

So he went to inform Evie.

"I couldn't convince Hermione," he admitted.

"Hm," Evie commented, not even looking at him, absorbed in one of the black boards in her "lab".

"She's not helping, then," he continued.

"Mm," Evie agreed, still not paying him any attention.

"So, I'm on my own then," Harry finished.

"Mn," Evie hemmed before chalking the words cellulite, feasible? on the board. "...Not necessarily."

Harry blinked. "Huh?"

"Observe," Evie said, placing her chalk down and heading from the former classroom.

Evie was a few inches taller than him, with long legs, and walking quickly, so he had to hurry to catch up. It wasn't hard to follow her, though, as they were just going to the common room.

Apparently.

One riddle later, and Evie was stopping next to Hermione, who was engrossed in a book on charms.

"Hermione?" Evie began.

Hermione looked up immediately. "Yes?"

"Harry would like to have a small Thanksgiving feast to celebrate the holiday we're missing by not being home in America," Evie began. "This feast would most likely only be an hour or two long, and with the help of the house elves, would be no trouble to pull off. It would involve perhaps the rest of our dorm mates and Slimer and a professor to keep an eye on things. This would hopefully show some of the culture America has made for itself to our classmates, who would no doubt enjoy the lesson. Would you be interested in assisting us in this endeavor?"

Hermione blinked. "Well, when you put it like that…"

Harry's mouth fell open.

Plan F: Logical Argument/Disguise as Learning Opportunity was a success. He was so glad he'd thought of it.

HP/RGB

"Planning a party is hard," Harry complained.

The three had taken over a(nother) abandoned classroom, and were in the process of decorating. Which involved a lot more moving of tables and chairs than actual decoration. Hence Harry's complaints.

"This was your idea," Hermione shot. She levitated another chair to move towards the table.

"Yes, but there was a reason I brought the two of you in," Harry argued. "So I wouldn't have to do the heavy lifting."

"Magic negates the need for heavy lifting," Evie pointed out.

"You're not even moving anything!" Harry snapped.

"That's because I don't believe the teachers would appreciate runic clusters appearing on their furniture," Evie answered calmly. (8)

"What happened to, 'better to ask forgiveness than permission'?" Harry grumbled.

"Those brooms were for science. This is for a frivolous holiday. I'm naturally less compelled to risk blowing things up."

"Hermione, Evie's ruining my Thanksgiving buzz," Harry complained.

"Good," Hermione snarled back as she wrestled another chair into place. "I'm never letting you talk me into this again."

"But think of the learning opportunity!" Harry argued.

"Think of the, 'maybe there's a reason Britain doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving'," Hermione shot back.

"Yes, because it's boring," Harry returned. He shoved the last chair into place and stood back, wiping his forehead. "Well, that's the hard part done. And the elves have already been bribed to bring food, and we're all good to go."

"Now you just have to get through the hosting of the party," Evie agreed.

"Which you two are going to help me with, right?" Harry asked.

There was a long pause.

"Oh for- you didn't help me to help with the party at all, did you?" Harry demanded. "You wanted me to struggle on my own and sit laughing in the background!"

"Of course not," Evie disagreed. "I could have done that easily without agreeing to help."

"Just you watch!" Harry snapped, pointing a finger at her. "This is going to be a great party! And everyone's going to love it!" He stormed off in a huff.

"There was an ulterior motive to this, wasn't there?" Hermione asked Evie.

"It was just a thought," Evie said. "If Harry realizes that hosting a party is this difficult, it's unlikely he'll try to do so again."

"He was bugging you, too, huh?"

"I do not host."

HP/RGB

In the end, the Thanksgiving party turned out a… marginal success. Sort of.

First years from all houses showed up (though Malfoy had not been invited) and really seemed to be enjoying themselves. Professor Flitwick watched over the small feast, and Harry played the crowd like someone with years of experience.

And then, Slimer had showed up.

The party hadn't lasted too much longer. But there was a lot of running and screaming. Which kind of reminded Harry of home.

That was nice.

"Next time," he told Slimer, who was attempting to shove a whole turkey down his gullet, "you can just go home for Thanksgiving."

"It's still better than the reanimated turkeys," Evie told him calmly, from where she lounged in one of the chairs, a book spread over her legs.

"Yeah, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop on that one," Harry admitted.

Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, Harry. Just because it happened once doesn't mean there's always going to be a ghost turkey."

"No," Evie disagreed. "There's always a ghost turkey."

Hermione blinked. "...Always?"

"Always," Evie agreed.

There was a long pause.

"...Really?" Hermione asked.

"Always," Evie repeated.

To punctuate her statement, Slimer let out a shriek as one of the turkeys pulled itself to its feet and gave a ghostly squawk.

"Well, now this is more like it," Harry grinned as he pulled his proton pack. "Bet you ten bucks I can get it trapped before you can, Spengs."

"Challenge accepted," Evie decided, closing her book.

The next several minutes were filled with proton streams and bits of turkey. Just like home.

A/N: There is always a ghost turkey.

(1) "A Ghost Grows in Brooklyn". Egon gives Janine a haunted Geranium. By the end, most of Brooklyn is engulfed and Janine's flat is seriously water damaged. It's all Egon's fault.

(2) As seen in the episode "Russian About". Egon is pulling Peter away from one of the ruder Russian scientists when the man insults Albert Einstein. The rest is off screen, but is suggested to be sufficiently violent and not for impressionable young viewers.

(3) Mitu means "Dead man" (more or less). Harry's calling Malfoy a "Dead man".

(4) She really tries. She does.

(5) Yes.

(6) "Incantation" "Strike (hit)" "Enemy". Yeah, pretty much exactly as advertised.

(7) They had to sleep on the couch.

(8) Also, wood is a bad surface for runes to be carved in. They don't tend to last.

So, we see a bit more of a variety of magic, and Harry is insensibly annoying. Yes, that sounds about right. Please review with any questions or comments or anything, really. Reviews feed the rabid muse.

NEXT TIME: There is a cerberus, and Christmas vacation begins.