Disclaimer: The Potterverse belongs to JKR et al. I also don't own 'Dookie,' that belongs to Green Day et al.

A/N: I'll reiterate that I've no clue if Brits have a graduation ceremony like the us, and since this particular world seems to be a weird blend of US, Britain, and cannon, I don't suppose it matters all that much.

Contents - Some Sirius/Rumor flirting, graduation, and a tiny bit of Voldie.

Chapter Thirty-Four: Filler

"Is that a vintage Harley? Electra Glide, if I'm not mistaken. '77 or '78, right?" Rumor Watson was standing in Sirius' garage, practically salivating over his motorcycle.

Sirius laughed, "I'm impressed. Spot-on. She's a '77 – I bought her as a present to myself for managing to finish school."

"Why's that? Weren't your grades all that good?"

"No, just the opposite, in fact. It was more that I managed to not get expelled… I wonder if the headmaster ever did like he threatened…?"

Rumor turned to face Sirius. "What did he threaten?"

Sirius shrugged, "Oh, just to give me my own plaque in the trophy room for the 'greatest number of detentions ever accumulated in Hogwarts' history'."

Snickering, Rumor asked, "Not much of a fan of the rules?"

Sirius shook his head, "Not in the slightest."

"Have to say I approve. I always thought that rules were simply guidelines; fine and dandy for the unwashed masses, yet something that can easily get in the way of jokes."

Sirius checked his wristwatch, "Well… Harry's commencement isn't for another three hours. Did you want a spot of tea?"

"Why not?" Rumor followed Sirius into the kitchen of his house.

While Sirius set to gathering a couple of mugs and a teapot, he asked, "So… Tell me more about that school you mentioned."

"Ecclesia Ludus? Not much to say. It was rather dull, to tell you the truth," Rumor began winding a lock of her curly, dark brown hair around and around one of her fingers while she talked. "Though, I have to say, it wasn't quite so dull when I was there."

Sirius added tea leaves to the porcelain pot and boiling water from the kettle. "That's what I wanted to hear more of," he smiled. "One can never have too many ideas for a good prank."

"Hear-hear!" Rumor applauded. "Finally someone who agrees with me! Anyway… Let's see… Oh, I know! The best prank I ever pulled – that I didn't get caught for, of course. I think I was thirteen or fourteen; I was still in Sister Sarah's math classes, so I couldn't have been any older. Hated the subject with a passion, you know. Never could get the numbers to behave how they were supposed to. Sister Sarah had said we were going to have a test that Friday. Now, the tests in Sister Sarah's class were never handed out. She always wrote them on the blackboard and we did the problems on our own paper. The night before the test, I broke into the school and collected all the chalk in the building – took me a good six hours to do so. I left a single message on all the blackboards when I left."

"What did it say?" Sirius poured two cups of tea.

Rumor cleared her throat, "'Knowledge is power, yet power corrupts, testing is evil, morally bankrupt, God and his angels, their vengeance erupts, 'cause you seek judgment, your ethics disrupt'."

Sirius nearly choked on his tea, "I'm more glad than ever I never had to go to a parochial school."

"I wish I could say the same," Rumor replied. "We never did have to do that test, though the poem didn't keep the sisters from giving us other tests. What about you? What's the best prank you ever pulled?"

"Hmm… I don't know… There have been so many…"

Rumor rolled her eyes, "Fine, which was your favorite?"

Sirius cracked a big grin, "Well, it's not quite as daring as your own tale, but it took a fair bit of planning."

Rumor leaned in, an eager expression on her face, "Do tell."

"April first, 1974 – my third year at Hogwarts. I had just turned fourteen. All year long, I'd been planning ahead. I got to know a couple of the school house-elves rather well, specifically Nodd and Owly – they worked in the Hogwarts' laundry. Anyway, I managed to convince them to switch all of the robes of the students in Slytherin with the robes from Hufflepuff."

"Is that all?"

Shaking his head, Sirius continued, "Of course not. I'd charmed all of them to have the proper crest, but that particular charm only lasts about six hours. So, by lunch, both houses were in the wrong robes."

Rumor shook her head, "Still doesn't seem like much."

"Ah, you say that now, but I hadn't yet mentioned that none of the students involved were aware of that fact."

Laughing, Rumor tossed her hair back over her shoulder, "I think, for the first time in my life, I'm rather jealous that I didn't inherit my parents' magical abilities."

Sirius shrugged, "Well, you don't seem to have done half-bad without it. Besides, magic seems to cause about as many problems as it creates."

"True, and being a cracmol I appear to have the best of both worlds at my fingertips – magical healing and I can run a microwave, to be precise. How many wizards out there can claim the same?"

Sirius smiled, "I really need to introduce you to my godson."

"I thought you already did, what with that night we all went bowling."

"True, but I don't think the two of you really got to talking much, did you?"

Rumor nodded. "Yeah. We talked a little, but not all that much. He seems like a good kid."

"That he is," Sirius replied, draining his cup before glancing at his watch again. "He should be back from Hogwarts in another hour or so."

The pair sat in silence for several minutes. Despite having known each other for a single, short week, they were comfortable with one another. Sirius didn't seem to mind that Rumor wasn't a witch, and Rumor didn't care that Sirius had spent a good portion of his life unjustly imprisoned. Their respective senses of humor complemented one another – something that Sirius felt was a big 'plus' in any girl he dated.

Harry tossed his duffel on his bed and glanced at his alarm clock. It was almost five-thirty. Damnit, I knew I shouldn't have lingered so long at Hogwarts! He hurriedly dug out his blue suit and removed the graduation robes from their dry-cleaning bag. No time for a shower… What was that cleaning charm again? Oh, yeah, "Proluo."

He squirmed as the cleaning charm tickled across his skin and ruffled through his messy hair. It took mere minutes to get dressed, but when he glanced in the mirror in the bathroom, he stopped short. He looked as though he'd poked his finger in an electrical outlet, his hair was frizzed out and standing on end. "Jenn!"

At the panicked tone of his shout, Jennifer rushed up the stairs and skidded to a halt in the bathroom doorway, Remus close behind her. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at Harry. Remus, though, had no such compunctions. He grinned, chuckled, and said, "Proluo, right?"

Not looking from the mirror, Harry simply said, "How do I fix it?"

"Wet a comb," Remus replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "and then use said comb."

Jenn sighed and pushed the werewolf out of the doorway, "Come on, Harry. Let's see if it can be fixed."

"Hurry," Harry replied, handing her the comb. "I'm supposed to be there at a quarter to, and it's just now," he checked his watch, "five-thirty-five."

Remus leaned against the open doorjamb, "And the thought you can apparate didn't cross your mind?"

"No jokes, Moony, or I'll make sure your birthday present is a rabies vaccine."

Needless to say, Remus shut up. Jenn managed to get Harry's hair somewhat presentable, that is, looking normal, if not neat. Harry supposed it didn't matter much, since the cap would cover his hair.

He apparated directly from the bathroom into the storage closet of the art room at Stonewall. Cracking the door open a tad, he verified that the classroom was empty before vacating his hiding place. The door to the class was locked, but a quick 'alohomora' rectified that situation. He even remembered to relock it once he was in the hallway.

Once he'd managed to make his way to the auditorium, time seemed to fly by. One moment, Harry was sitting with the rest of his class, listening to the opening speeches, the next, he was hearing his name called. Mere seconds later, he had his certificate of completion in hand, and was standing sandwiched between Sirius, Remus, and Jenn while Sirius' new girlfriend took their picture. What seemed to be yet a single moment after that, he was back home and Jenn was directing Sirius to hang the recently-magically-framed diploma over the fireplace in the living room. Harry almost didn't want to believe his watch when it said that it was nine o'clock. How is it that three hours seemed to have slipped past in the blink of an eye?

"So, Pup, you going to the party in Hogsmeade tonight?" Sirius asked.

Harry removed the silly, tasseled, flat cap and stared up at Sirius from his place on the sofa. "How'd you know about that?"

Sirius shrugged, and Remus replied, "It's sort of an unofficial tradition that all the seventh-years get together in Hogsmeade the last night of their NEWTs."

"'Sort of an unofficial tradition'?" Jenn asked. "Why isn't it an official one?"

"Well, since the seventh-years are all at least seventeen, they're legally adults in the wizarding world and can do as they please with their time as soon as their educations are completed – which, as it stands, is the moment the last NEWT is completed. Since the party doesn't need parental consent, there's really no reason to go and make it an official Hogwarts function. Had they made it so, I doubt it would be as popular, since the only time alcohol can be served during a school function is when it's during one of the infrequent international events." Remus joined Harry on the sofa. "Like a few years ago, Hogwarts hosted the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Representatives from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were present at the school for most of the year, and during the winter holiday, Hogwarts held a Yule Ball in honor of the guests."

"Oh," was Jenn's less-than-spectacular reply. "If you want to go, Harry, I don't mind. Just try to be home by dawn – you could use a night off."

Harry chuckled a little and nodded in agreement. "I agree, Jenn. Ron told me that the party should last until one or two. I'll floo if I'm going to be later than three, though." Harry climbed to his feet and smiled at Rumor, "It was nice seeing you again, Miss Watson. Maybe we'll have more time to talk in the future."

"I'd like that," Rumor replied before turning to Sirius. Harry heard her ask, "We still going to see 'Dark City' tonight?" as he headed upstairs to change out of his graduation ensemble.

About half an hour later, Harry arrived just outside the Three Broomsticks. It was quite obvious that there was a party going in full swing inside. Harry wondered for a moment whether he should of glamoured himself or simply brought along the invisibility cloak before shrugging and squaring his shoulders. He opened the door to the pub and ducked inside.

The pub wasn't as crowded as it could have been, but the forty or so students currently taking up tables or dancing were more than enough for Harry. He noticed Hermione sitting in a relatively quiet corner, watching the dancers while ensconced in a discussion with a boy he vaguely remembered being present for the potions practical NEWT, and that only because he'd secured the station closest to the door during the test.

"…but that negates the effect of transplanar synergy, Justin. Like I said in class three months ago, you just can't ignore the less pleasant aspects of runic power in order to achieve your goals."

The boy shrugged, "You still don't want to acknowledge that side-effects are unavoidable, but that brings me back to my original point, Hermione, it all boils down to the question of whether the side-effects are worth it. Would I trade some minor indigestion for a cure for the cold? Probably. Would I trade my sight for the same? Never."

Just before Harry managed to make it through the crowd, Ron appeared at the table with a couple of butterbeers. "I dunno, mate, on my scale, indigestion and the cold rank about the same. Still, you've got a point." He took a seat between the other boy and Hermione, handing Hermione one of the mugs. "Actually, you've both got a point. Transplanar synergy in healing spells is usually the difference between a true cure and merely easing the symptoms. There was an article… dunno which journal it was in, but I remember reading it for my apprenticeship essay back in January… Anyway, it said that there were a bunch of cases where merely treating the symptoms actually made the problem worse."

Curious, Harry edged closer to the small group at the table, simultaneously wondering what, precisely, they were talking about, and thanking the low lighting of the pub – no one had yet recognized him for who he was.

Ron took a big gulp of his drink and continued, "There were also references to the use of sacrificial magic in healing, specifically a case where a witch who had gone blind sacrificed her own left foot in order to see again, and a wizard who had crippled his wand-arm sacrificing his other arm to regenerate the crippled limb."

"I fail to see what that has to do with transplanar synergy," Justin replied.

"Well, it's moving an ailment from one part of you to another, right? And transplanar synergy is ensuring your body, mind, and magic are all working properly together, right? So, how can you say it's nothing to do with it?" Ron looked smug. Harry felt a little lost.

"All right, all right already," Justin grinned, "I concede. You win. I can't argue the both of you, even though I still think that it's little more than a convenient excuse," he held up his hands before either Ron or Hermione could argue, "that is, until further proof surfaces. As for right now, though, I think I'll go see if Mandy wants a dance or two with her old potions' partner."

Harry slipped into Justin's seat moments after the other boy vacated it. "What was that about and who is he?"

"Harry! Glad you could make it!" Hermione greeted him.

"Same here," Ron agreed. "That was Justin Finch-Fletchley. He's a Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw tendencies – rather like yourself, I'm sure – and we were just continuing an argument that's been ongoing since we started studying runic impacts on healing charms last year."

"And?" Harry prompted.

"And what?" Ron asked.

"Who won the argument?"

Hermione shook her head, "Justin just conceded, but it's really one of those arguments that can't be won, simply because there hasn't been enough research on it yet."

The three of them quickly settled into discussing other matters, and for the better part of an hour, Harry's presence at the party remained mostly unnoticed by the other students.

"Dookie is not seeing the power, Master," the house elf cringed, obviously expecting a sharp reprimand delivered through her master's ever-present snake-headed cane. Ergo, she was slightly confused when her master merely smiled and patted her absently on the head.

"Return to the kitchens, elf," he murmured quietly, still smiling to himself. Once the elf had disappeared, Lucius' smile broadened imperceptibly. "Well, well, well… My Lord, it appears as though you were not quite so infallible as you would have us believe," though his voice was quiet, it held a tone that belied his underlying amusement at the situation. "Brought low by nothing more than your own single-minded quest for power, and now that power has deserted you. So… sad."

"The bunnies! They did it!" the formerly-powerful Dark Lord was coiled in a corner, his voice shrilly calling out randomness at odd intervals.

"Hmm… What to do with you now, though?" Lucius asked, not expecting an answer. "I still believe you could serve a purpose… Perhaps I ought to create that quill, just as a precaution, mind. And what of after that? Well… I haven't fully decided yet. So, my Lord, this shan't take but a moment of your time," he leveled his wand at Voldemort and incanted a simple grooming charm designed to trim one's fingernails. He summoned the clippings and retreated to his study where a single black augury feather waited.

Despite the fact that Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione in an out-of-the-way corner of the Three Broomsticks, the knowledge that he was, indeed, at the party swept through the crowd. Now, as seventh years tend to be slightly less exuberant in their reactions than the average first year, no one had yet to approach the table, though almost everyone was watching them, at least part of the time.

As Harry and Hermione sat discussing hypothetical situations in which Ron wasn't interested, the redhead noticed the flickering gazes of his fellow students. He smiled a bit to himself when he realized that he'd noticed something Hermione hadn't.

"HEY!" an indignant shout cut through the general low buzz of dozens of conversations, "I said knock it off!"

"And what are you going to do if I don't, Longbottom?" Ron sighed as he recognized Draco Malfoy's voice.

Harry and Hermione ceased their conversation and looked up, even as the rest of the students followed suit. Ron climbed to his feet, and looked in the direction the shouting had come from. Being the tallest boy in their year, he could easily see over everyone. "What's going on, Ron?" Hermione quietly asked.

"Looks like Malfoy's got Nev at wandpoint again," Ron replied.

Hermione frowned, "One of these days, Nev's going to snap and Malfoy's going to regret it."

Ron nodded, "True that."

Harry only had half an ear on his friends' conversation. He'd climbed on top of his chair to see over the crowd. What he saw had him frowning. He recognized Draco Malfoy – despite the close resemblance the boy had to Lucius, Harry remembered quite clearly the day he'd levitated the blonde to Professor Snape's office. Malfoy was standing with one arm draped across the shoulders of a girl who, in Harry's opinion, strongly resembled one of Aunt Marge's prized bulldogs. Two bulky, slow-looking wizards were just behind him. All four had their wands out, though Malfoy was the only one aiming his at 'Nev', who was kneeling on the floor. The other boy was stunningly average-looking, with light brown hair that had probably been some shade of blonde when he was younger. He further had the slightly stretched look of someone who'd recently been on the receiving end of a growth spurt. His complexion was bright red, though Harry wasn't sure if that was the result of embarrassment or anger, Harry was tempted to lean towards the latter, though. "Isn't anyone going to do anything?" Harry asked his friends.

Hermione shook her head, "Not likely. No one likes to be on the receiving end of one of Malfoy's hexes."

Harry rolled his eyes and climbed off of the chair, If you want something done, do it yourself. He slipped through the crowd even as he heard Malfoy lazily incant, "Fodio. I asked you a question, squib! Fodio. Just – fodio – what – fodio – are – fodio – you – fodio – going – fodio – to – fodio – do – fodio – about – fodio – about – fodio – it?"

Harry growled a little under his breath. The spell Malfoy was using was the magical equivalent of someone poking another in the shoulder. "Hey, Malfoy!" he called out, stepping into the relatively clear area surrounding the blonde. Draco turned around, ready to hex the moron who'd interrupted him. He didn't have time.

Harry's right fist connected with Draco's nose, and there was a satisfying crunching noise. As the blonde's eyes rolled into his head and he slumped heavily in his girlfriend's arms, Harry muttered, "I hate bullies." He turned to the other boy and asked, "You all right?"

The other boy nodded and climbed to his feet. "Yeah. Thanks, I think."

That seemed to be the cue for the majority of the assembled students to break into applause. Harry ignored the ruckus as best he could and held his hand out to the other boy, "Harry Potter."

He nodded, "I know," and shook his hand. "Neville Longbottom."

"Pleased to meet you. Come on, let's go have a drink," Harry replied, maneuvering through the crowd, ignoring the pats on his back and shouts of 'he had it coming' and 'nice punch' et cetera. He and Neville quickly arrived back at Hermione and Ron's table. Though it took a while for the other students to go back to their party, eventually the four were left in peace. After chatting about nothing in particular for about an hour or so, during which time Harry had a couple of mildly alcoholic beverages, the music from the dancing area began to pull Harry's attention.

"If you're having that much trouble sitting still, Harry, why not go join the dancers?" Hermione asked when she noticed Harry bobbing his head along to the music.

Quaffing the last of his Gillywater, Harry stood and shrugged, "Why not?"

Aside from the fact that these folks have grown up knowing about me, for the most part, this isn't all that different than the times I go clubbing with Tim and Nigel. Hmm… I'll have to make sure we bring Remus along the next time we go. I'm pretty sure he could do with a night out. Spotting a girl wistfully watching the action on the dance floor, Harry headed in her direction. She was about three inches shorter than he was, with pretty chestnut hair that was cropped short and highly curly. She was wearing a wizarding t-shirt that cycled through several shades of blue and a pair of jeans. When Harry got a little closer, he saw that her eyes were a clear shade of sky blue, and that her face was oval-shaped and well-proportioned. Her eyes widened somewhat comically when she spotted him. "Hi," Harry said. "Did you want to dance?"

The girl opened her mouth twice before she could get her voice to work. "Y-You're asking me?"

Harry grinned and shook his head, "Not at all, I was asking the patch of wall you're leaning against."

Her face quickly cycled through disappointment, irritation, and anger before settling into a wry smile. "I'm Lisa Turpin."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said. "So…" he nodded towards the dancing. "Shall we?"

A/N2: This was going to be a longer chapter, but the upcoming stuff is going to take a while to map out properly. I thought y'all would want a short chapter to tide you over until the bigger one came out.

Thanks to all my reviewers! Long may you live and read!