Disclaimer: Anything you recognize – be it character, location, idea or line – belongs to others, I may be playing with them but I make no profit from this.
A/N: Thank you to all those who answered my question about the pace of this story! Your input is much appreciated!
WARNING: If you're squeamish about explicit gender-bending matters, I recommend you skip the part between the symbols: o * o * o.
A… Switched Chance
11. The best laid plans
THUMP!
A stack of books was unceremoniously dumped all over the table where Leia was trying to sort out her homework and the girl raised her eyes to watch her exasperated best friend slump on the seat across her.
"Aargh! This makes no sense!" Sky cried frustrated, letting his head fall on his crossed arms.
Their cosy common room was empty. Only the first years had Wednesday afternoons free and most were taking advantage of the first sunny day in a week to enjoy the grounds. With Halloween ever closer and their plans for the 'Troll Incident' looming on them, however, both Harry and Hermione felt the need for some time for themselves and they'd therefore claimed that they wanted their homework out of the way as quickly as possible.
Understandably, this was taking Leia longer than Sky, for the simple reason that Harry hadn't bothered with all the theory the First Time, just skimming enough of the books to get by. With the weird way their magic was behaving now, though, he couldn't afford to slack on the 'understanding-the-hows-and-whys' part anymore, so he was actually doing all the work he'd cheerfully skipped the First Time.
At least his grades were rivalling Sky's now and admittedly, studying seemed to get somewhat easier with every new assignment, probably because he could actually remember the previous ones this time and use them as reference.
Nevertheless, it was bothersome.
Leia tried to turn back to One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, where she was trying to find the answer she needed, but Sky didn't seem inclined to let her.
"It just makes no sense!" the boy moaned again, face buried in his crossed arms so that all Leia could see was the mop of hair that used to be his.
Leia sighed. "What makes no sense?"
"Look!" the boy upturned his bag with dramatic abruptness and gesticulated at the number of small items that spread around, most of them moving on their own in some ways.
Leia blinked.
Among the various odds and ends, she quickly identified the rigid, hollow shell they'd used in the last Transfiguration class: it now moved, somehow self-propelled, about the table surface, changing direction whenever it contacted an obstacle too large to drive over. A small storage box that she recognized as hers (though to be honest it was Hermione's) seemed to have grown four legs and pattered about in a circle. One of Parvati's colourful hair clasps was flittering around like a bizarre butterfly. And there was a miniature man in a footballer's uniform marching awkwardly about and emitting a tune that was probably an anthem of some sort.
"Is that Dean's…?" she asked, unable to come up with anything meaningful.
"Luděk Mikloško miniature, yes" answered Sky curtly, impatience in his every gesture.
Leia gaped, momentarily sidetracked: "How on earth do you manage to remember a name like that?"
Sky gave her a dark look. "It's all that boy can talk about. Apparently Mikloško was voted 'Hammer of the Year' just last May and it's kind of rare for a goalkeeper to be chosen, if I understand it right, and as Dean himself plays in that role, he's over the moon about it."
Leia contemplated for a moment asking elucidations about the 'Hammer of the Year', but she had seen the double hammers crossing over a castle of Dean's favourite team's insignia often enough and she was sufficiently familiar with Quidditch to guess it was the title for the best player of the team. She also considered asking how Hermione had found out so much about the black boy's passion in a month when Harry hadn't gathered even half of that in six years, but let it go.
Instead, she returned to the topic that was distressing her friend: "Alright. You've enchanted a few knickknacks. What about this doesn't make sense?"
Sky shot her a dirty look that Leia felt was totally unwarranted.
"I shouldn't be able to do that", he said succinctly.
Leia frowned. "Why ever not?"
"Remember this summer? That box I enchanted?" green eyes peered up at her, upset. Leia nodded.
"I didn't have a problem with that either! And I should have! Children of eleven aren't supposed to have enough power to enchant things! Bewitching an item, even when you know the spells well and can cast them easily on a temporary target, requires much, much more power!"
"But you clearly have enough", said Leia slowly, trying to figure out what the problem was.
"Exactly! I can do it! I can blooming enchant this stuff! Even if I shouldn't be able to! So why can't I do a simple charm?"
Ah, so that was it. Their wonky magic.
"You can do some charms", she tried to point out.
"But not with any reliability! It's more luck than anything else, these days!"
Since he'd always more or less relied on luck in order to learn new spells the First Time, Harry wasn't sure how to answer this.
"I don't know, Her- Sky, I have no idea. I'm having problems too and there doesn't seem to be a logic to it. I mean, I can cast a Colour-altering Charm easily if I just concentrate a little, or that Measuring Charm that weighs something with high precision, but somehow a simple lumos still gets away from me, either changing the colour of the light randomly or continually varying the intensity…"
"And when I tried the levitation Charm, the pillow I was using shot to the ceiling so fast it exploded in a shower of feathers" griped Sky. "A Levitation Charm! Just about the simplest thing on the book! Yet I can do that", he gestured to the singing goalkeeper. "It makes no sense", he concluded frustrated.
Leia shook her head. "I wish I had an answer, but…" she trailed off. "Meanwhile, can you tell me why asphodel and moly can't be grouped? There's nothing much different between the two!"
"Oh, well, it's about the way they react to external environmental variations, like heat for instance…" Sky launched into one of his explanations and Leia tried her best to follow. Sorting the long list of basic ingredients in the sixteen groups that supposedly classified the component of Potions – something Harry hadn't even heard about the First Time – was harder than it looked.
Of course, it didn't help matters any that they had yet to have a proper Potions lesson.
After the first, disastrous one and the three lost during Snape's trial and then dealing with its immediate consequences, there had been a week suspension due to an O.W.L. class blowing up the room on the first Monday of October. Details on the matter were still rather sketchy, but the Weasley Twins were determined to ferret out every information to be had, 'for research purposes'. Read, to recreate the effect in a controlled prank- ehm, environment.
So it was only on the second Friday of October that the Gryffindor first years had actually returned to the chilly dungeons.
By then, even the most clueless students were aware of the barely veiled hostility between Snape and Supervisor Norland; Leia had enjoyed watching covertly the forced, mockingly overdone politeness between the two.
Judging by the seething glares from Snape and the gleeful maliciousness with which the Supervisor insisted on formalities like being greeted with respect, it was easy to guess the bad blood between the two was of long standing.
Leia could only snort. That bastard had probably made enemies everywhere. With such a charming personality…
It was when Snape, after a snarled roll-call, had waved his hand at the blackboard and grunted his standard 'Instructions are on the board. Begin!' that the troubles had started.
"Excuse me, Master Snape", had interjected the Supervisor, with a poisoning sweet tone utterly belied by her vicious sneer. "I was under the impression that this was the class' first Potions lesson, yes? Wasn't the previous one interrupted, after all?"
"So?" had bit out Snape from clenched teeth.
"Are you sure the children are sufficiently prepped on lab safety?"
Leia and Sky had shared a wide-eyed look: lab safety? What was she talking about?
"I don't know what you mean", had said Snape in dangerously bland tones.
The other's face was a study in incredulity. "Are you setting the children up with dangerous tools, fires and potentially lethal cauldrons without so much as a speech on lab safety?"
Snape had sneered: "If the dunderheads can't even figure out how to not cut their fingers off they don't belong here!"
"They're eleven!"
"And considered old enough to brew!"
"No, they're considered old enough to brew under careful supervision! Are you trying to kill them, Professor?"
"How dare you!"
Leia had recognized the murderous look on Snape's face as the same one he'd had facing Lockhart at the Duelling Club, and had promptly and quietly packed up everything on her desk, absently noticing that Sky was doing the same with as much alacrity and, thankfully, everyone around them was following their lead.
They'd made it all the way to the corridor before the first hex had exploded behind them.
The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, the next Tuesday, had been luckier and had managed to sit through a whole class on lab safety procedures, despite Susan reporting to the Club that Snape had been 'utterly bored and even nastier than usual'.
Sky, of course, had bullied the entire Club into doing the homework the Puffs and Ravens had received. Leia hadn't even put up the token protest most others had attempted. For one, she knew her best friend too well to hope it would work. And for two… some of the stuff they were going over was truly interesting. That simple Lid Charm that put a temporary, invisible membrane above the cauldron surface to avoid the risk of uncontrolled substances contaminating the concoction would have been mighty useful against Slytherin sabotage!
The look on Snape's face when every Gryffindor (and Daphne, but she was on his black list too, for her part in the Legilimency debacle) had turned up for class with their homework in pristine order, showing up the other Slytherins in the process no less, had been priceless.
The jerk had had the gall to take off points from all of them, for their 'arrogance' in daring to do some research he hadn't formally assigned.
Ms. Norland had exploded in outrage, furious about his idiotic attitude and shouting that he was sabotaging the very Guild of Potioneers by stifling the young ones' will to experiment and research outside confirmed boundaries. She'd brought up stats about the number of Auror Trainees and Healers in training since Snape started teaching, too, and Leia had been rather horrified in realizing how much that man was crippling Wizarding Britain.
Snape, of course, had taken every word as a personal insult and retorted in kind; so they hadn't learned anything that day.
Unless you counted seventeen different brand new insults, an anatomically detailed description of the ways in which Snape resembled a clabbert in looks, behaviour and personal hygiene and a meticulous account of Norland's family's highly questionable choices of careers and even more questionable personal habits as 'something', at any rate.
And the previous Friday they'd arrived in the Potions class only to find the two already at each other's throats, wands flashing dangerously and screams too overlapping and confusing to understand what it was all about, though Seamus and Terry swore they'd heard Norland calling Snape a 'guts-griping bag of guts' – which had immediately become a very popular insult.
Susan and Kevin had been unanimously elected to report to the Club what the luckier Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw class actually did during their lessons, and were essentially teaching Potions to their Gryffindor (and one Slytherin) peers.
And that, Leia supposed, was what they should be content with, given the utter lack of concern about education in this area their faculty was showing.
Despite the troubles with Potions class, the ever-looming threat of Voldemort roaming the halls of Hogwarts and the thousand one things they had to worry about, Leia was having a very nice time.
Perhaps it was because she was now almost constantly busy with things she'd always enjoyed, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week and so much time spent having fun with her friends, be it quietly chatting with Sky, exploring with Terry, playing Exploding Snap with Nev or whatnot.
Perhaps it was that the lessons were becoming more and more interesting as she went beyond the surface of the basis and actually delved into the theory that made the world around her work.
Perhaps it was simply that the dearly loved castle was, as usual, making her feel right at home.
Whatever the reason, Harry felt that everything was going well.
Which is, he reasoned, why the universe just had to screw him over- again.
o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o
On Halloween morning, Harry sat frozen on her bed in Gryffindor tower, careful not to move a single muscle, in case it would trigger the panic she could feel tightly coiled inside him.
Oh, he wasn't completely clueless about what was going on.
Seamus' far too many flings and his tendency to brag made for rather… educational… dorm sessions among boys. And after the third time he'd been Bat-Bogeyed for no apparent reason, Hermione had taken him aside to tactfully explain Ginny's monthly mood swings. Add to that the 'talk' Julia had given him before school, twenty minutes of utter humiliation that he'd done his damn best to forget entirely, and he was fairly knowledgeable about his problem.
Her problem, rather.
This was most definitely a her kind of problem.
And no matter how much his inner male soul was rebelling against the whole thing, it was most definitely her own problem.
She looked at the red evidence on the sheets and tried to figure out how to move without breaking into panicked shouts. Or blush so much in embarrassment that he would have heart failure for lack of blood outside his cheeks. She just needed a few minutes to sort it all out in his head and then she'd deal with it, really. A couple minutes. Or hours. Or-
Of course, Lavender chose precisely that moment to fling Leia's curtains aside.
Leia squinted in the sudden sunlight. The other girl was already talking, fast and chirpy: "…so I told her I wouldn't do it, but that you might, so we must get down early so she can explain, and what are you doing still in bed? You need to… oh!"
Leia blushed in complete mortification as Lavender trailed off, realizing the situation.
Then, to Leia's dismayed shock, she squealed: "Oh Herm! Look at you! This is fantastic! Congratulations!"
Congrat- what the hell! What was that air-head going on about now?
"We must celebrate!"
What? That was the furthest thing from his mind! This wasn't fantastic, this was a disaster! A calamity!
"Oh, but we can't let the boys know a thing!" she giggled, in Leia's opinion rather stupidly. "We'll have to celebrate just us… Are you going to write your mum? Is she going to send her present?"
"P-present?" squeaked Leia, completely stunned.
Lavender blinked: "Well, of course! It is a sign that you're no longer a child, you see, of course it should be celebrated!" said Lavender earnestly. "When it happened to me, Grandmamma bought me the most delightful dress! It's all blue, but with all these rhinestones scattered all over the taffeta weave and it has such a very fine crosswise rib that it looks like it's all a plain wave of smooth fabric and…"
"What's going on?" interrupted the sleepy voice of Parvati, as the Indian girl approached sluggishly.
She blinked owlishly at Leia's stained sheets, making Harry blush again in total chagrin. Couldn't they just leave him alone?
"Oh", said Parvati without much inflexion. "First time?"
Lost in a mortifying daze, Leia nodded jerkily.
Parvati nodded again with sympathy. "You poor you. Padma and I went through it at the end of August. Wasn't nice, I can tell you…"
"…but only as decoration for the side pockets and their flaps!" finished Lavender, who'd been in her own little fashion-centred world for a while. "Hey, are you even listening to me?" she said crossly.
From somewhere in the depths of his humiliation, Harry dragged out enough voice to croak: "Er- could you- that is- let me- bathroom- please?" and accompanied it with a desperate, pleading expression.
The two other girls looked perplexed for a moment, then Parvati exclaimed: "Oh, of course! Come on, Lav!" and mercifully latched on her best friend's arm, dragging her away.
Harry hurriedly escaped to the bathroom, yanking the sheets with her, and wondering if her face would ever lose her red tint or if she would be hopelessly mortified for the rest of his life.
She managed to get herself cleaned and changed like Julia had taught her, mainly by the stratagem of forcing himself to think about his Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare all the time, while going through the motions mechanically. Hey, if it worked against Aunt Marge's abuse, it could work to temporarily ignore his utter embarrassment over the whole thing!
She grumbled a bit about how there better be a simpler magical method for the whole ordeal, until she realized that in order to find out, she would have to ask Pomfrey. Or – she gagged at the thought – McGonagall.
Not. Happening!
He took a very deep breath when he felt he was somewhat decent again, and firmly told himself that he would simply ignore The Problem and pretend It wasn't happening and most importantly that It wasn't happening to him.
That plan went out of the window almost immediately, as The Problem decided to manifest itself in a way that prevented him from ignoring it: cramps. Severe cramps to be precise, in all her lower belly, painful enough that she could barely walk straight.
Damn it all to hell! How could he have ever thought there might be anything good about being female? He must have been on high!
Lavender and Parvati poked into the bathroom after a while, quite worried about her.
"Oh, dear. I told you… Not. Nice", said Parvati shaking her head desolately.
Leia bit her lip hard to avoid scowling at the girl for the complete uselessness of her comments.
Lavender fretted worriedly: "Oh, this is so awful. I mean, it's normal, but it's so awful too. Do you need a pain reliever, Herm? I don't have any but I'm sure we can find someone…"
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey will surely give you something", added Parvati helpfully.
"It's not that bad" ground out Leia. She was not going to be fussed over about this! He would never survive the humiliation!
"You should still go to the Hospital Wing", declared Parvati implacably.
"We'll take you", said Lavender quickly, cutting off her retort. "Here, let me help you fix your hair…"
Too incoherent to protest the idiocy of worrying about her hair in such a dreadful situation, Leia was pretty amazed to discover that having it brushed gently did make her feel better.
One thing was sure. The female genre was an uncharted territory, full of unexplainable mysteries, and being a girl didn't seem to offer him any key to unravel them!
She walked through the corridors convinced that every portrait there was gawking and muttering behind her back, and dreading the possibility of running into someone and having to explain.
And yes, she realized she was being ridiculous and she realized that It was perfectly normal and happened to every girl her age and older.
But it was just not fair that he be forced to cope with this! It wasn't even his body that was behaving so weirdly! Why did he have to endure this messy... thingy?
Lavender and Parvati left her at the door of the Hospital Wing so they would manage to grab some breakfast before class. She thought the entire concept of eating was too gross for words. How come humanity hadn't found a way to avoid it yet?
Madam Pomfrey, thank Merlin for small mercies, was brisk, professional and totally unfazed, which helped Harry immensely, as he could focus again on his Broomcare Handbook while the Matron went on about the 'necessary explanations' – which he would have happily done without – and the details of the potion she was giving her.
Turned out there was a whole shelf of it. How had he never noticed? Oh, right, he hated the Hospital Wing and tried not to think of it more than strictly necessary and he hated Potions even more and tried not to think of them even when it was necessary.
All she registered of the Matron's speech was that it would take several hours for the potion to work the first time, but then every month it would relieve her pains instantaneously. She sighed.
"Why can't I just turn into a boy and be done with it?" she bemoaned.
The mediwitch just chuckled: "Because it's one of the few things magic can't do, my dear."
Leia stared, suddenly alert: "Huh?"
"Well, even magic has its limits, I'm afraid. There are things you simply can't do... like conjuring real food from nothing, or give life back to something dead. Turning something male into his female version and viceversa is one of those things. Oh, people have tried... from time to time someone pops up attempting a gender-bending potion, or a charm or whatever, but it never works. I'm afraid you're stuck like this, young lady!" she concluded cheerfully. "Now drink up and lie down a while."
Madam Pomfrey bustled away and Leia leaned back on the fluffy cushions, wondering. Was the mediwitch wrong? Or, what? Had he done the impossible again, this time dragging Hermione along for the ride? Or was there a different explanation altogether for the Switch?
She was distracted from her musings as Sky entered the infirmary, eyes full of worry.
"Lavender said you were here… She didn't give a reason, but I suddenly remembered that I had my first period today and…"
Leia chocked.
How could Sky say something like that without the faintest trace of embarrassment! Why was he even here, Leia sure as hell would have kept far away from The Problem entirely in his place!
"At least you had the sense to come to the hospital wing…" said Sky, apparently oblivious to Leia's discomfort with the whole conversation. Scratch that, with the whole situation.
She couldn't believe she was about to discuss It with… with… She didn't even know why sharing this experience with Hermione was even worse than everyone else, but it was.
Maybe because for the first time, Harry realized that this was Hermione's body and the fact suddenly made him awfully uncomfortable.
But Hermione just went on chatting, as if it wasn't horribly awkward to discuss the workings of a body she wasn't inhabiting anymore, in front of the unfortunate sod that had accidentally taken over!
"I didn't, you know. Come to Madam Pomfrey, that is. Didn't want to risk losing classes… big mistake" the green-eyed boy shook his head ruefully. "I felt awful and was on edge the whole time. I've often thought that Ron's insensitive words would not have hurt so much if I hadn't been feeling so down already... not that I regret it, of course, but… anyway, I beat myself up for not coming sooner when I finally started using the potion… it's brilliant, you'll see, the two holidays I had to go without before I learned how to brew it properly were nightmares…"
Leia whined: "You're not helping!"
Sky's retort was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of the Gryffindor Chasers.
"Hey girl!" called Katie cheerfully. "Lavender told us…"
Leia moaned in distress. "Is that nitwit advertising this every-bloody-where?" she cried.
Alicia chuckled. "No, no… or, well, not much. She seems to think it's cause for celebration. Apparently wherever her grandmother is from it's custom to give gifts to the girl on this occasion… weird, huh? At least she isn't talking where the boys could overhear. It's girls' business after all"
"Exactly", barked out Angelina. "Which means… Potter, out!"
"Huh, ah, right… hmm… I- I'll see you later, Leia…"
Harry just moaned again, eyes tightly shut against the cruel, mean world.
"Right, Hermione", said Angelina briskly. "Now, I know you probably feel awful, but the sooner you learn a few things the better."
Leia's eyes flew open in alarm. "Learn what things?"
"Well", said Katie carefully, "this is going to happen every month, you know…"
"Don't remind me!" snarled Leia.
"And do you plan on sitting on a broom like that? Or on giving up Quidditch during those days?" asked Alicia pointedly.
Leia stared in horror. He hadn't even thought about Quidditch! How on earth did female players handle this?
"Thought so", said Angelina smugly. "Here's how we Quidditch gals go about it…"
Half an hour later, a thoroughly traumatized Harry watched his team-mates leave with merry goodbyes, well-aware that he now knew more than he'd ever wanted to about how athletes handled The Problem. He also distantly worried that he would not be able to drink milk unthinkingly anymore, not after the lecture on amenorrhea, estrogens and the importance of calcium.
Later in the afternoon, however, he found himself raising a small, heartfelt thank-you to the girls for their timely visit when Oliver Wood dropped by, terribly concerned about his Seeker's well-being and awfully embarrassed about approaching the taboo topic.
Leia was all too grateful to be able to hurriedly claim Angelina had already explained everything. As awful as having the talk with the older girl had been, the idea of sharing it with Oliver was ten times worse! She shuddered at the mere thought!
Wood seemed just as relieved and patted her shoulder awkwardly before all but running from the Hospital Wing.
o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o * o
It took several hours, but the potion eventually worked its miracle and Leia felt fine again – and more than ready to forget The Problem at last, and possibly never even mention It in passing again. Maybe that would help him survive the traumatic experience. How did girls deal with how weird their bodies were? Never mind, he didn't really want to think about it.
Needless to say, Madam Pomfrey tried to keep her in the Hospital Wing much, much longer than was even reasonable. Leia didn't protest overly much, too used to the mediwitch's ways to hope it would do any good.
The moment Madam Pomfrey was out of sight, however, she threw the covers aside and was out of bed.
He didn't care what the Matron would say.
He'd promised.
He'd promised Hermione that he would never leave her alone.
No way would he break his promise over some silly belly cramp! Come hell or high water, he would be at her side at tonight's feast and they would face 'Quirrelmort' and his troll together!
She didn't bother getting dressed, knowing it would increase the chances of getting caught, she just grabbed her clothes and ran for it.
Six corridors and two sets of stairs later, she ducked into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, beyond relieved to find it empty of annoying ghosts, and quickly got changed.
Then she slipped out and started running again towards the Great Hall, hoping to make it to the Feast reasonably on time.
Suddenly, as she rounded a corner at top speed, she was doused into the peculiar, disagreeable sensation of icy coldness that meant she'd run through a ghost.
She skidded to a halt and turned to mumble a hasty apology, but the words dried in her throat as she recognized the blank staring eyes, gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood.
Floating before her in all his pearly, gory glory was the Bloody Baron!
Her jaw dropped in shock when the silvery, iridescent form raised an eyebrow (did all Slytherin know how to do that?) and chuckled.
The Bloody Baron, the unsocial, gloomy and much-feared Slytherin ghost, was chuckling.
"Ah! The infamous Miss Granger!" he said, and his voice was hoarse and grating, making Leia shiver while thinking of un-oiled chains and dry emery. "I should be very cross with thee, young lady."
Huh?
"For over three hundreds years I have been the only one Peeves feared. Yet erewhile thine arrival, thou hast usurped this honour… an untraded complement for a lady as young as thee, doest thou not agree? I yarely admit, thy audaciousness leaves me emulous indeed!"
The ghost gave her a feral grin. Leia just stared at him, mouth agape, too busy mentally deciphering his odd speech to truly grasp what he meant. The Bloody Baron… was jealous of her, because of the prank on the poltergeist?
Just how weird could her life become?
"Huh… should… should I apologize, sir?" she asked uncertainly.
"Nay", said the ghost lazily, waving a hand elegantly in a dismissive gesture. "Thou art not at fault, I should believe, nor should I forspeak thee for thine act of hardiment… Thy blank wast not to abuse or con, I know. I wonder though… where art thou going in such hurry? I should attask thee, thy behaviour is rather unbecoming of a young lady, running amock is for peasants!"
Leia bit her lip. The Bloody Baron was reprimanding her for running in the corridors. Bloody hell, this was too absurd for words!
"I promised a friend that I would be at the feast tonight, sir, and I'm rather late…" she explained, barely even knowing why she was giving the sinister spectre with the weird speech-patterns the time of day.
The ghost nodded his translucent head thoughtfully. "Aye, I too have an engagement for the night… Sir Nicholas' Deathday Party, a long-standing tradition in our establishment… it would not do to dwindle much. A pity… thou art an interesting witch, thy haunt should mayhap enkindle me…"
That… meant he wanted to hang out with her?... possibly…
"Oh, hm, uh, well… maybe… maybe I could come see you another time?" asked Leia cautiously.
The ghost's pearly eyes bore into her, making her fidget. He was truly creepy.
"Thou may", he said at last.
And he floated away regally.
Leia just stared after him, thinking wildly: What just happened?
The first official Tournament of the Sky Club, taking place on Halloween right after classes, had gathered more people than Sky had expected.
He glanced uneasily at the group of Slytherins that had shown up without warning and were now keeping to themselves. He didn't know what made him more nervous, Malfoy's smug grin, that promised trouble, or Nott's intent gaze fixed on him. Hopefully, the presence of an excited Professor Flitwick would keep disturbances to a minimum.
He wasn't very comfortable with having them there; they had come prepared though and had presented their case to the cheerful Professor in such a light as to make their exclusion impossible. A Club with the goal of expanding the circle of a student's friendship beyond House boundaries should be open to everybody… whatever. That might be right on principle, but the motives of the Snakes were suspect at best, Sky thought.
Anyway, he had once more been spared the task of dealing with the situation. Justin had reacted first, pointing out loftily that a club, by its own definition, was exclusive and that it was the club founders' right to set standards for acceptance. Daphne had jumped on the idea, setting standards like 'having to be polite to every member of the club at all times', which earned her twenty points from Professor Flitwick and had Malfoy close to chocking at the idea of treating the Muggleborns civilly.
It had been very elegantly handled, and all Sky had had to do was bop Ron on the head before the redhead's bigotry got him thrown out for being rude to the Slytherins. Sky had caught a nasty glint in Daphne's eyes that told him she had hoped Ron would fail to heed his warnings. The girl positively despised the red-head. Sky couldn't even blame her, even if it made him sad: Ron was invariably rude to her.
Still, once more Sky had found himself on the sidelines of a confrontation that the First Time would have likely seen 'Harry Potter' right at its centre. He wondered why that was. The Club making everybody more confident? Harry being determined to make up for his obsession during sixth year by utterly ignoring Malfoy now? Their not being as close to Ron as they used to? The red-head was certainly involved in nearly all confrontations with the House of Snakes…
Whatever the reason, Sky didn't mind: she'd never particularly enjoyed that element of their lives the First Time. It gave him a vague unsettling feeling though, as he couldn't help but think that keeping track of all the changes might well be a task above their skill: let's not even mention controlling them…
Dismissing the isolated Slytherins from mind for the moment, Sky made a quick head count of the rest of the children, who were much more relaxed and mingling happily.
The whole Sky Club aside for Leia was here, plus the Weasley Twins, who somehow always managed to take part in everything fun – and as they merrily pointed out, what could be more fun than shooting bright, colourful sparks and blowing up stuff?
They had dragged along not only Lee Jordan, but Angelina and Alicia too, which naturally meant Katie and her friend Leanne were there, and most of the second year Gryffindor boys had tagged along. Hermione wasn't particularly happy to endure Cormac McLaggen's bragging – apparently his uncle had taken him hunting nogtails in Norfolk for the first time the previous summer and that, somehow, gave him the right to preach about aim and shooting ranges and such. He was just as unbearable now as he had been at Slug Club meetings.
Kevin, a bright yellow whistle on a cord around his neck, started barking instructions left and right: he'd really taken to organizing the Tournament with utmost seriousness; soon everybody was either taking a turn at the targets, or cheering and booing the other players with vigour.
The Twins sidled up to Sky and took him aside discreetly, taking advantage of everybody's distraction.
"Listen, Harrykins", one said with uncharacteristic seriousness. "You know that our dad works at the Ministry?"
Sky nodded, frowning. He couldn't fathom what this might be about.
"Well," said the other, "he seems to know just about everybody there, judging by how many people stop by to greet him cordially whenever the chance arises, and he has a habit of keeping up a running commentary of who's who if we're with him…"
"…so we really know a lot about the Ministry and who works there."
Sky nodded again, more slowly. "So?" he asked cautiously.
"So, we can tell you…"
"…that the new Professor…"
"…that Croaker guy…"
"…is an Unspeakable", they finished together.
Sky, remembering he shouldn't know much of the Wizarding World yet, feigned confusion. "He's what?"
"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to…"
"…but it's never good news when they take special interest in someone".
Sky looked from one oddly grim expression to the identical other. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked carefully.
The Twins shared a meaningful glance.
"Because…"
"…yesterday while we were –ahem- never mind that…"
"…the point is, we overheard that Croaker guy quarrelling with old Dumbledore…"
…about you."
"About me", repeated Sky in a flat tone that was the only way to hide his sudden bout of terror. Dumbledore was arguing with an Unspeakable because of him? This was not good.
The Twins nodded solemnly. "Dumbledore was forbidding something because 'Harry is far too young', that's what he said, and Croaker was calling him a 'senile old codger who's idiotically wasting precious time'. No clue what that was all about, but…"
"…we reckon you should be on your guard around that bloke", the two concluded uneasily.
Sky could feel his heart beating wildly. What could it mean? What was 'Harry' too young for? Was this about Voldemort? Quite likely. But what, exactly, did the Unspeakable want with 'Harry Potter'? Had this happened the First Time and they just hadn't noticed? Or was this a change they'd wrought through their attempt at neutralizing Snape? What was going on, how would this impact their new future? What should they do?
There were no answers.
The Twins were watching him worriedly, but they didn't say anything and when a bout of loud cheers went off from the target area, all three of them allowed themselves to be distracted by Hannah's unexpected success at shooting moving targets.
The uneasiness the Twins had generated in Hermione only grew with every churned thought, until it blossomed into controlled panic as Sky stepped into the Great Hall for the Feast.
She so wished that Harry could be there at 'his' side.
She didn't begrudge her friend his stay in the Hospital Wing – she'd cursed her stupidity a lot for delaying even just a month, when she'd realized how much easier that potion made her life – but facing this night of all nights alone…
She knew that, technically, she didn't need Leia's help to handle Quirrel. They had a fool-proof plan and Sky could carry it out on his own easily enough.
But what if she messed up?
What if something happened and she ended up facing… Him? On her own? She couldn't! She… well, she wasn't Harry! She just… she couldn't, not alone!
She could barely stand the tension of the waiting… what if she messed up?
Never had Hermione felt so relieved as when a panting Leia burst into the Great Hall and skidded to a halt near the Gryffindor table, instantly greeted by loud welcomes and caring enquiries about her health.
She slid in the seat next to Sky and grabbed his hand covertly, squeezing hard. In a bare whisper, she renewed the promise she'd made that day in Diagon Alley: "I will not leave you alone. I promise, Hermione. I won't."
Relief and gratitude and love washed over Sky ina wonderful wave.
Leia squeezed Sky's hand once more, then relaxed a little. "Ready for tonight's show?"
As one, they turned to watch the High Table, where surprisingly, Quirrel was having a rather one-sided conversation with Snape.
Well, this was an unavoidable feast for teachers: Sky guessed that if he didn't show up at all someone would go investigate. Voldemort wasn't careless like that. He was more likely to excuse himself at some point.
Leia and Sky shared a determined glance and then pretended to enjoy the wonderful decorations and the excited chatter of their friends, most of which centred on the afternoon's Tournament.
Sky noticed that Leia seemed rather put off by the food on display, even the numerous sweets, but then again, Hermione had never eaten much in 'those days' either. At least the girl seemed spirited enough as she listened to Terry recounting his success at the coloured lights game.
For his part, Sky was fascinated by the thousand live bats that fluttered from the walls and ceiling or swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. She'd really missed a mesmerizing show the First Time.
Their eyes slid to Professor Quirrel every few seconds, ready and tense for the moment when he would leave the table, signalling the start of his ill-conceived attempt at gaining the Stone.
But it never happened.
The baked potatoes and pumpkin pies left place for desserts, and still Professor Quirrel was stuttering uselessly in his seat.
Seamus and Ron launched into a ridiculous contest, throwing baked pumpkin seeds into the air and trying to catch them in their mouths, and still Quirrel didn't leave his place at the High Table.
McGonagall performed an awe-inspiring piece of magic, transfiguring every bat in the Hall at the same time into small items – miniature cauldrons, tiny broom models, fluffy plushies – that rained on the cheering children and were instantly the object of heated negotiations and fun bargains, and still Quirrel remained sitting placidly next to Snape.
The evening was full of wondrous things, but distinctly lacked what they had most looked forward.
No stuttering Defence Professor pretending to faint in the middle of the Hall.
No school-wide panic to act as diversion while Quirrel tried the forbidden corridor's defences.
No troll to act as decoy.
For whatever reason… Quirrel had decided not to act tonight.
When the Prefect led the tired and excited students to their dorms, Leia and Sky were forced to admit it: all bets were off.
Who was to know what would happen now?
The excitement they missed on Halloween, however, was served to them for breakfast the morning after, in the form of a glaringly first page of the Daily Prophet shocking the upperclassmen into frightened and frantic whispers: AZKABAN BREAK-OUT!