At one point during this chapter, a character is told to "do the math." Do not follow the advice. Do not do the math. I've done the math and the math doesn't work. Thanks for reading --- please review!

October 2009

There was to be a guest lecturer in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Teddy was excited and seemed extra-smug whenever it was mentioned. Although he refused to confirm her suspicions, Marietta thought Teddy knew the identity of their guest speaker. She had tried to squeeze the answer out of him but, upon realizing that her limited knowledge of the wizarding world would almost ensure that the guest speaker was some great and terrible warlock she'd never heard of, she gave up.

Still, as they trouped into class that morning, Marietta was just as anxious as all the other students. She rushed to join Teddy in their customary seats – middle of the second row. "Close enough not to miss anything, far away enough not to get called on too often," Teddy had explained with an air of innate wisdom. Usually the front row was left for students who arrived right before the start of class and had no other choice, but today it was crowded with students eager to hear from their guest.

"I thought you were going to be late!" Teddy exclaimed.

"What, and miss all the excitement? Never."

"Quiet down, class, quiet down." Usually Professor Underly had to make this request several times, frequently resorting to threats of incurable jinxes to silence the class. But today was different. You could hear a pin drop as the students waited anxiously for the speaker whose name they longed to hear. "As I've told you, we have a guest speaker in class today. He's a former Hogwarts student – not a pupil of mine, unfortunately – and now works in the Ministry as the Head of the Auror Office." A couple of well-informed students gasped and Marietta made a mental note to ask Teddy what an Auror was. "Students, Mr. Harry Potter."

The room burst into tumultuous applause as a young man with unruly black hair entered the classroom. He looked slightly embarrassed by the applause, but it continued. Marietta clapped, but she wasn't sure exactly why. "Well … uh … hello," he said and Marietta got the feeling that this was a man who didn't like making speeches. The applause stopped instantly; the class was again silent. "I'm afraid it's been a long time since I was a first-year at Hogwarts and you all seem a good deal smaller than I ever was. I recognize a few faces – Miss Applewhite, your mother works in the Ministry, I think." Mr. Potter pointed at a small dark-haired girl in the corner who flushed as red as Marietta's hair and nodded. "And … ah, hello Teddy." Teddy grinned up at him. "Teddy Lupin, here, is my godson." Marietta stared: this was Teddy's godfather? Mr. Potter's eyes slid across the table to Marietta and she saw them widen in surprise, as if with recognition. She noticed, with a jolt, that they shared the same emerald green eyes, even if his were obscured behind round glasses. He stared at Marietta for a moment, as if trying to place her, and then suddenly cleared his throat. "So Professor Underly has told me that you all are learning about jinxes and countercurses…"

The lecture was good, Marietta thought as she packed up her books, but she didn't understand why so many of the students seemed to hang on Mr. Potter's every word. His tales of being an Auror – she knew what it was now; he'd explained – were exciting, but not cause for worship. She would have asked Teddy, as they had a free period after D.A.D.A., but Teddy seemed to plan on spending his with his godfather. As she headed to the door alone, Teddy called out, "Marietta, where are you going? Stay and chat!"

She looked back. Mr. Potter was leaning against the wall, talking to Professor Underly and Teddy, who was waving her over. Marietta wasn't sure if she wanted another half hour of talking about defensive spells, but anything was preferable to spending a free period by herself in the common room. As she approached the trio, she was relieved to hear that the conversation had shifted to more normal topics. "And how's Lily doing?" Teddy asked. "Last I saw her, she wanted a toy broom."

"Ginny opposed it at first, but she's too partial to the idea that her daughter might be a Quidditch player. She's been zooming around the kitchen for months. Reminds me of her mother."

Teddy laughed and noticed Marietta's presence. "Oh, Harry, this is my friend, Marietta. Marietta … Harry Potter, my godfather."

Mr. Potter put out his hand to shake and Marietta obliged. She couldn't help noticing his eyes again. "I thought I recognized you. Marietta, you said?" She nodded. "Do your parents work at the Ministry?"

"I … I don't know, sir," she confessed. "I was adopted by Muggles when I was just a baby, but the lady from the Ministry thought I was half-blood at least." Teddy raised his eyebrows; Marietta had never before revealed this bit of information to him. Mr. Potter looked interested, but there was a cloudiness in his expression that made Marietta wonder what he was thinking.

"And you'd be … eleven?"

She nodded. "Twelve in November, sir."

Mr. Potter smiled. "Ah, a few months older than Teddy here. He's really the baby of the family, you know, even though he's one of the oldest. We all spoil him too much." The roots of Teddy's hair were tinged with red; Marietta had noticed that, instead of blushing, the Metamorphmagus's hair often expressed his feelings. "I'm glad he's found friends; he cried for weeks that he wouldn't know anyone and cursed us all for not having children his age." He paused, glancing at Marietta as if a thought had just occurred to him.

"That's enough, I think," interjected Teddy swiftly. "Harry, why don't you tell me and Marietta one of your stories from Hogwarts?"

Harry laughed. "Quick to anger, Teddy, just like your mother." Teddy smiled and his hair turned an odd shade of purple. "But I guess we have time for a story, if Miss Marietta doesn't mind?" She shook her head. "All right, which story will it be?"

"I like the one about the mountain troll the best."

"Oh, story time is it?"

Marietta, recognizing the voice, turned around. Professor Longbottom had just entered the D.A.D.A. classroom. "Neville!" Mr. Potter exclaimed, hurrying over and clapping the teacher on the back. "How have you been?"

"As well as can be expected when there's a Venomous Tentacula loose on the grounds," Professor Longbottom responded wryly. "A couple of fourth years thought it would be a funny prank…"

Mr. Potter laughed. "Remember the days when that would have been me and Ron setting loose poisonous plants? Hermione always chasing after us."

Professor Longbottom laughed as he remembered. "Those were the days. Now, I heard something about a story. Not about our school days, I hope."

"Why, what else? Teddy requested the one about the mountain troll, but now that you're here I suppose I'll have to tell the story of our first flying lesson. I'm not sure how much you'll remember; broken wrist after your first attempt at all." Before Professor Longbottom could interrupt, Mr. Potter added, "You got better though, I'll admit. Thestrals were more your style, huh?" Professor Longbottom laughed and let it go. "Now … the first flying lesson. We had the class with Slytherins, which meant Draco Malfoy. These were back in the days when the two of us couldn't stand to look at one another, let alone have a class together…"

The hour went quickly and as Marietta and Teddy left to go to their History of Magic class, Neville caught Harry watching the girl. "You've noticed then?" he asked.

"Noticed what?" Harry asked, too quickly to be believable.

"She has your eyes … your mother's eyes."

"They're green, nothing out of the ordinary about that."

"She's the spitting image of Ginny in her first year."

"That's just the red hair, her face is more like …"

"Yours, Harry. It's more like yours."

Harry froze. He had been contemplating this since he'd first laid eyes on Teddy's friend, but had been afraid to consider the possibility that there was any truth behind his thoughts. "She couldn't be…" he murmured. But everything fit. Red hair. Green eyes. Eleven years old. Anyone could do the simple math. There was only one way to find out. "I'd better head home," he told Neville, who seemed to have followed his frantic thought process remarkably well.

"Harry … don't do anything rash," Neville advised.

But Harry hardly heard him.