Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine and I make no profit from this, it's just for fun!
A/N: Since it's been unspeakably long, let's see where we are... Leia is Harry in Hermione's body; Sky is Hermione in Harry's body; they botched up a time travelling ritual around Christmas of their year on the run and have subsequently been living each other's lives since the summer of Harry's 11th far, they have dealt with their magic throwing tantrums, meeting people they saw die, facing puberty of the wrong gender, Sirius on the run and a Bloody Baron who enjoys being cryptic, among other things. They are working to further their main goal of defeating Voldemort, along with other goals like getting their generation ready to survive the war, promoting inter-house solidarity, locating the Horcruxes and surviving the Unspeakables' meddling, which has landed Sky in a coma for nearly six weeks.
A… Switched Chance
14. Disconnection
Scrubbing vigorously at a particularly stubborn stain on the wall of the Potions classroom, Leia was starting to consider – possibly, in the back of her mind – that maybe, her brilliant idea of sneaking to London to visit Sky in St. Mungo's hadn't been all that brilliant after all.
She'd been in detention for two solid hours every evening after class and every weekend afternoon too, for the past two weeks: it wasn't pleasant to say the least. Nor was there any end in sight: she was going to be at the mercy of Filch, Snape and Hagrid until the end of the school year. Months away! After which, going by the thunderous faces the Grangers had had the last time she'd seen them, she was probably going to face a summer of menial work as punishment...
On the other hand, she hadn't been expelled, so perhaps she was getting off lightly after all.
She sighed morosely. The stupid oily-looking stain wasn't cooperating in the least. Why couldn't botched potions just disappear with a wand wave like common dust? Glaring disconsolately, she pondered the wisdom of sacrificing her now very reduced study hours to figure out just what it could be made of. And more importantly, how to wipe it off!
She pouted at the stubborn thing, unwilling to concede defeat but equally unwilling to insist when no good appeared to be coming from her effort. She strongly suspected Snape had done something to whatever it was, just to make her miserable.
She threw in the towel (both literally and metaphorically) and made a mental note to ask Julia for advice in her next letter. It probably wouldn't do any good, but complaining often and as loudly as she could in writing was part of her strategy to hopefully reduce her punishment over the summer by convincing the Grangers she had suffered enough under Snape's sneering watch.
Which, she might like to add, was absolutely true. The man was relentless.
Trudging tiredly along the familiar corridor, she tried to cheer up at the thought that at least, she would be with Hagrid for the next few days. Detentions with him were always the most appealing, because the kind giant soon forgot she was supposed to be punished and instead had her help him with a number of interesting creatures.
So far, she'd had fun building a vivarium for his dozen or so mokes and feeding them small cockroaches, collected quills from a few knarls for the laughing potions the Sixth Years were supposed to brew, sprayed smelly slug repellent on most of his vegetable garden and even assisted him with splinting the hind leg of a nogtail that had tried to sneak into a pigsty in Hogsmead and had been promptly chased away by the albino bloodhounds of the Ministry of Magic's Pest Sub-Division. And he'd mentioned something about curing salamanders with chilli powder for tomorrow!
It beat scrubbing Filch's door for the tenth time hands down (and she really should have a word with Fred and George about dungbombs she ended up dealing with...)
Suddenly, a shriek echoed down a corridor on her right, startling her.
Wand in hand, she sprinted around a corner, only to be knocked over by a panicked poltergeist.
Raising herself on her elbows with a muttered curse, she glanced up and her eyes widened at the sight of three animated suits of armour wearing white doctor's coats, clattering uncoordinatedly up the corridor with huge syringes and bistouries in their ungainly metal hands.
She scrambled to the side and watched in disbelief as they passed her by, clanging and rattling.
"Oh, Leia!" a voice called out cheerfully and she spun around to see Terry and Kevin getting closer, the Weasley twins right behind them – and all of them with wands suspiciously drawn.
"Did the dungeon bat release you?" asked Fred or George cheerfully.
Not about to admit she'd essentially released herself (Snape had already 'forgotten' her once, anyway, so she was perfectly justified in her personal opinion), she just smiled in a non-committal way.
Terry gave her a huge grin: "Did you see our armour-doctors?"
"Cyber-doctors," protested Kevin. "That's a much better name, Terry."
"They aren't cybers!"
"They aren't doctors either!" fired back Kevin.
"One of our best creations yet, wouldn't you say?" said (probably) George with a huge smile.
"Creations?" Leia repeated, eyes a little wide. The clangour of the armours in doctor's coats was dying down in the echoing corridor.
"We'd better go," interjected the other twin. "That much noise, it's bound to attract... feline attention." He winked.
Not sure if he meant Mrs. Purr or McGonagall, and definitely not interested in finding out, Leia nodded vigorously and grabbed Terry by the arm, starting to drag him off towards Gryffyndor Tower. "Too right. You can explain as we go!"
"Ehi! Leia! I'm perfectly able to walk, you know!" protested her fellow Gryff.
"Besides, it's the wrong way," commented one of the twins in amusement, and slung a friendly arm around Kevin's shoulders. "We've got to get our partner in crime safely to the Nest..."
His brother whipped out an old, apparently unremarkable parchment and Leia froze, a bout of nostalgia almost instantly swept off by a wave of panic as she recognized the Marauders' Map.
Oh, Merlin, what would they see above her dot? The Map never lied – it had shown Pettigrew, and Crouch, and - what would it show about Sky and her? Their current identities? Their previous ones? Some weird mix?
Why hadn't she thought of this danger before? She knew Fred and George had had it since their first year! Why hadn't the twins noticed? Or had they? Had they just not said anything? They'd never noticed Pettigrew...
As she was busy panicking, the troublemakers had, with practised expediency, focused on finding the patrolling teachers and prefects, whose roster they'd memorized.
"All clear!" (probably) Fred called out merrily.
Unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth, she followed them down the corridor, mechanically trying to fake the curiosity and enthusiasm that would have been normal in front of the astounding piece of magic.
All too eager to show off, Fred and George launched into the description of 'the secret of their success'.
Leia however barely listened, too busy worrying things over in her head. It's not like she hadn't heard their sighing admiration of the Marauders before, after all.
Just how did the Map work?
She'd used it enough, back when she was Harry Potter, to have gathered that it took some focus to make it work well. Things like passwords and alternative routes only showed up if the user was concentrating on needing them and while it was possible to have a (very confusing) glimpse of the whole castle, with incredibly (and uselessly) detailed floor plans and grounds drawn at microscopic size, generally the specific floor you wanted to see came into sharp relief while the remaining overlapping floors faded to an unobtrusive, pale grey.
Still, this didn't go very far in reassuring her.
Had the twins seen her and Sky on the Map? Had they noticed something off? Was there something off? There was bound to be. ...Or not?
Unable to let it rest, she tried to fake enough enthusiasm to be allowed to see it.
When they handed it over with smug grins, she hurriedly focused on the five of them and very nearly dropped the Map when she saw she appeared as 'Leia'. Just that, nothing else. Not her current name, not the former one; not even a surname. Just 'Leia'. What was that all about?
Then she blinked again, because she realized that the labels she'd automatically read as 'Fred' and 'George' did, in fact, say 'Gred' and 'Forge'. Again, no surnames.
Odd.
Quickly, she focused on Snape instead, practiced in making the Map seek out the dangers to prowling students and letting everything else fade to a blur; Fred and George laughed at her 'predictability' and chatted on about the usefulness of 'keeping an eye on the greasy bat', unsuspicious.
She oohed and aahed as expected, while her mind worked furiously. What was going on with the Map? Why did it react to her like that when it hadn't for Pettigrew, or anyone else? Did it have anything to do with the odd changes in their magic after the Switch? But then what about 'Gred and Forge'?
Unable to come up with an answer, she put it from her mind for the time being.
Thankfully, Terry and Kevin were more interested in boasting about their prank: the Map was old news for them apparently; so the conversation went on very naturally without much contribution on her part, centring on the practical joke they'd played on the unfortunate poltergeist. Which, it turned out, wasn't the first, or even the fifth...
"It all started when Peeves decided to retaliate for our prank at the beginning of the year..." explained Terry rather gleefully. "Guess he'd got over his fright and decided that he could take us or something."
"Yeah, and Terry was dangling from a chandelier on the wall with Peeves cackling in his face when I discovered them. Lucky for him that I was passing by!" said Kevin proudly.
Terry grimaced but went on quickly: "Kevin had the idea to jinx him so that anything he touched would turn vomit-green, in retaliation..."
"A remarkable show of inventiveness on the part of such a young prankster!" interjected George with mock-pompousness.
"And it worked so well that we tried it with other stuff too..." added Kevin excitedly.
"Like making whatever he touched smell like dungboms!" cackled Terry in triumph.
"Didn't last long, but it was brilliant," grinned Kevin.
"When was this?" asked Leia amazed.
"Oh, you know... just after Christmas break," they replied carelessly.
"Of course, we couldn't let such ickle Firsties have all the fun, now could we?" interjected one of the twins.
"Our reputation as pranksters extraordinaire was at stake!" added the other.
"Yeah, so they decided to up the ante and cursed him to wear a fluffy, frilly, sunny-yellow dress..." went on Terry.
"All day long!" crowed Kevin in laughing delight.
Leia had a vague memory of a yellow blur streaking out of a classroom amidst a gale of laughter, some time before, but she hadn't paid much attention. Obviously, she should have.
"And we couldn't really beat that, 'cos we don't know enough..." went on Kevin with a moue of distaste. "Yet," he added hastily.
"Yeah, from what we looked up in the library, most spells that affect the living-" said Terry.
"Or the not-living, but animate, as it were..." précised the twins.
"...are really too difficult..."
"So we decided to concentrate on the non-living..." elaborated Kevin.
"Or non-animate, as it were..." précised the other twin.
"And the suits of armour make the best targets!" exclaimed Terry with a huge grin. "Didn't you like what we did?"
"It was fun, wasn't it?" asked Kevin eagerly.
"Of course, we had to join forces, so to speak..."
"...but the twins make for great partners in crime!"
"Why, thank you, kind sir!" the two red-heads exclaimed with mock-affectation and flowery bows.
"You're making my head spin," said Leia. "What's with the twin-speak?"
"Yeah, boys," quickly protested the Weasleys mock-indignantly. "That's our prerogative, seeing..."
"...as we're actually twins."
"And they do it better, too," muttered Leia, earning scowls from Terry and Kevin.
With that, they'd reached the last staircase before the Ravenclaw common room and Kevin bid them goodnight.
"You could have told me!" she told Terry after a while, trying to hide that she was hurt at being excluded. Was he bowing to peer pressure and leaving her out because she was a girl? She'd thought better of him. "I would have helped."
"Would you?" he asked doubtfully. Before she could be offended, he went on: "You haven't been much interested in... well, anything, really, of late," he said apologetically. "I didn't think you would want to come."
"Oh."
"Besides, with all the detentions you already have... and honestly, what did you do to get so many detentions? Set Snape's cloak on fire?"
Leia nearly burst out laughing at that. Well she could honestly claim that she hadn't... the real Hermione, on the other hand...
"Maybe you should," she quipped mischievously. "Bet you could, if you tried during a Quidditch match... just sneak behind the teachers, set him on fire from a distance and run like hell. It could work," she entreated mock-earnestly.
She sniffed at Terry's incredulous look. Well, it could. It had, after all.
"What a wonderful idea," came a gleeful chorus from behind them.
They both jumped and turned to glare at the Twins, whose presence they'd almost forgotten.
Leia felt the first stirring of alarm: "I was joking," she hurriedly said. "No, seriously. It is a very, very bad idea. Dangerous. Hazardous to your health. Not to be tried at home."
Terry snickered. The Twins gave her a double sunny smile and she felt her stomach sink.
"Don't worry. We won't..."
"...try it at home!"
"Oh, what have I done?" she bemoaned.
Everybody laughed at her.
Terry's comments stayed with her past that evening.
Had she really become so detached from everything around her? She didn't like the idea that she'd been shutting her friends off. She remembered how basically isolated he'd been the first few years, despite the great friendships he'd been lucky enough to gain. It hadn't been until the D.A. that he'd looked beyond Ron and Hermione and found that there were many more friends to be had. But he was sure she'd done better this time around...
Had her worry over Hermione botched her efforts at socialization up?
Hopefully not for good.
Determined to make up for her recent behaviour, she went about the next few days with the firm intention of being part of the everyday school life again; but she discovered, to her surprise, that it wasn't easy at all.
Now that she was paying attention again, she suddenly realized that she almost couldn't understand her friends anymore. How was that even possible? They were speaking English, for Merlin's sake! Shouldn't everybody be able to follow?
But no, for some reason or other, their conversations were so full of intricate references to previous conversations, inside jokes and you-had-to-have-been-there moments, that it was like hearing a foreign language. Seriously, why would they use the words 'with mustard' to say something was to their liking? Or roll their eyes and slump on their chairs if anyone mentioned cushions?
Also, for some reason, Justin had earned himself the nickname 'Flobbier' – the whys of which completely escaped her and it took her swallowing her pride and asking Hannah, to find out that Ernie MacMillan had dared him to eat a flobberworm and Justin had. Eurgh.
What else had she missed?
...As it turned out, quite a lot.
Justin had been sent a scathing, ranting letter from his mother in celebration of his youngest brother's first, and rather spectacular, bout of accidental magic: little Adam had apparently set every piece of clothing in his wardrobe on fire during a tantrum spurred by his being denied permission to wear lilac and orange striped pants (a present from his aunt), somehow managing not to burn the wardrobe itself, or anything else, while at it. The whole Sky Club was rather impressed with the child's magic, if not with his fashion sense.
Neville had successfully grown a Dionaea textifovea (which Sky mistook for a bluish Venus flytrap) under his bed and it had munched on his dorm-mates' smelly socks. Ron might or might not have poured ink all over Seamus' chest, depending on which of the boys you asked. Parvati's grandma had sent her a fantastic feather-light satchel, which she would have loved if not for the fact that it was in Ravenclaw colours (and no amount of colour-changing charms could make up for it, apparently); Hannah was having troubles in Transfiguration and her parents weren't pleased; everybody had failed Professor Doherty's last test and they were all indignant at her unreasonableness; Dean's father had found tickets for a match over Easter break...
And on, and on, and on.
She'd missed so much and she could barely believe it. Had it always been like that? Had he simply always been blind to 90% of what went on beyond himself, Ron and Hermione? Because she knew she'd never paid attention to this kind of small things before the Switch...
It was an uncomfortable thought.
Less disorienting was the complaining against Slytherin, although it seemed Malfoy was still struggling to grab a leading role in his year; it was Nott who featured in most whining and his bullying style was a lot more subtle than his blond Housemate's had been. Mostly, it seemed to consist of sly comments making people nervous or humiliating them, though Leia was getting the impression that there was a pattern to his victims that might be important. Maybe.
She wondered if she should try and do anything about it but really, he wasn't doing anything especially wrong; and besides, it's not as if he'd ever managed to do a thing about Malfoy, when he was Harry Potter.
She had come to have an obscure and vague notion that Slythering bullying was just one of those Things That Are.
Still, it was surprising to hear so much against Slytherin without once having to listen to some Malfoy bashing and she wondered at her erstwhile enemy. Perhaps it was the fact that he, too, was still in detention once a week, for his insults before Christmas? (Professor Sinistra was relentless). That must have cost him in terms of influence.
It seemed ridiculous, though. Harry had never been cowed by that kind of thing, in either life. Was one setback truly enough to push the Slytherin out of the game for so long? Or maybe he was finding other interests - Sky had mentioned that his grades were gaining from his lack of popularity.
Oh, well. Malfoy was none of her business this time around, and for that, she was grateful.
Even more shocking than the blond pain in the ass keeping his head down, however, was the fact that Kevin had made huge progress in cracking the mystery of The Philosopher's Stone!
Terry and he had found Fluffy during one of their prank-related escapades and had been terrified and euphoric at once – a feeling Leia remembered well from her own, parallel experience.
The trapdoor under the Cerberus' paws had set Kevin's imagination on fire: something not unexpected, especially considering his passion for magical thrillers (a rather contagious one – Leia had borrowed The Sword of Cortez on a whim and was enjoying it immensely.)
His small but gripping collection had served Kevin well, providing him not only with a number of potential 'wondrous lost items' that might be being protected by the magical tri-headed dog, but also with the information that Cerberuses were used for protection of hidden treasures in the first place.
On the wave of enthusiasm that discovery had provoked, Kevin had been spurred to research anything and everything to do with Hogwarts and treasures, jumping tracks – and books – every other day: Susan, Padma Patil and, surprisingly, Seamus had all joined him in his efforts with great enthusiasm.
Leia was severely impressed by just how much they'd found out about the Four Founders and their artefacts – much more than Sky and she had, despite the fact that they had motivation! Then again, the school had a number of books of various type on the Founders and it really shouldn't have surprised her so.
However, a riveting short novel centred on Nicholas Flamel had given Kevin the invaluable piece of information that the Headmaster was friends with the legendary Alchemist.
And suddenly the distant past was forgotten, because it made much more sense for something belonging to a friend of the Headmaster's to be hidden in the school, right? And it hadn't taken long for the young Ravenclaw to narrow the possibilities down, seeing as the book Hermione had used was there in the library for anybody to find.
He'd proudly informed them that the Cerberus was guarding the Philosopher's Stone – guaranteed almost certain.
Since it was true, Leia had little room to object.
She was seriously impressed. And rather nervous.
Kevin was painstakingly recording all the clues he was finding (even some that didn't have much to do with the Stone at all) and most of his theories in a frayed notebook. He was all fired up with the idea of writing a reportage on it for his favourite magazine, Magical Mysteries, and then maybe find some other mystery, there were bound to be some in Hogwarts after all, weren't there, and then he'd write another reportage, and perhaps do that for a living because wouldn't it be cool?
Susan, who'd dared to point out that for such a career, he needed to be able to write well, and he wasn't, was the target of much glowering glares on his part (and also a lot of pouting because she was correct, even though he didn't want to admit it).
Leia really didn't know how to react. Should she interfere? Should she not? Had she any right in either case? However, the most demoralizing thing was that nobody seemed to expect her to react at all!
A bit disheartened, she tried to talk to Sky about it, but her friend wasn't very receptive.
The Map Problem did, however, catch Sky's attention.
Frowning slightly from behind the barrier of books he'd stacked between himself and the world, Sky pointed out logically: "Hogwarts is huge, Leia. It's not that strange that things might pass us by. Remember how you never noticed Crabbe and Goyle masquerading as first year girls, despite the fact that you were observing Malfoy closely?"
Leia grimaced.
"And Fred and George never saw Pettigrew in Percy's or Ron's dorm, nor did Remus notice us when we time-travelled…"
"Yes, alright. But it's still strange, Hermione!"
"Ok, but look. The Map is finely attuned to the mind of the user, we know that much. Right? It can shift view and zoom as directed by its holder, but it can also adjust what it shows based on unconscious mental focus. That's how we usually tracked Snape and Filch, right?"
"Except that I couldn't use it like that to find Malfoy…"
"Because he was outside of the Map's influence," replied Sky in long-suffering tones.
"Right."
"In most cases, what it shows is based on the user's focus."
"Ok."
"Selective display," Sky insisted, slightly irritated.
"If you say so."
"I do say so!"
"Fine, fine..." Leia held her hands up in surrender. "I'm not arguing. Just... is there a point you're trying to make?"
Sky shot her a smug look: "Well, what if it's attuned to other users' as well?"
"Excuse me?"
"What if it shows not only what the current user wants to see, but it also reacts to other users' wishes?"
Leia thought in silence for a while.
"That would explain Fred and George – why they appear on it as 'Gred' and 'Forge'," insisted Sky, a little testily. "And you showing up as Leia."
"But it doesn't explain Pettigrew – he was one of the Map's creators! Surely if it works as you say it would react to him... show him as 'Scabbers', or not at all...!"
Sky shrugged: "He probably wasn't thinking of it, though, right? He knew Filch had confiscated it... and he ran away before the Twins gave it to you, so he wouldn't have known you had it..."
"Hmm. Maybe." Leia reflected that it was entirely possible the map showed what you thought of yourself, or something along those lines. "It makes little sense that it would react so strongly to me, though," she couldn't help pointing out. "I mean, I haven't used it – not this time around."
Sky looked stumped, but then shrugged, returning to his book: "Maybe it didn't, I mean, not before you grabbed it. Maybe it showed your real name... or mine... or whatever... but the point is, you probably only changed to 'Leia' once you took it."
Leia raised an eyebrow, sceptical: "Just like that?"
"You're familiar with it, with how it works. I told you, it has to have an element of unconscious direction..."
"Ok, ok." She thought some more. "Why did Fred and George never notice anything weird with us, though? Do you think it says – said – Harry Potter or Hermione Granger for me?"
"Why did they never notice anything weird about Scabbers?" Sky retorted. "The Map relies heavily on focus, the information available to a viewer at any time is forcibly limited, even taking into account the possibilities of magical size distortion. Unconscious direction means that the information jumping to the eye is whatever is of relevance to the viewer: this would reduce or eliminate the likelihood of accidentally viewing random peripheral information."
"You sound like a bloody manual," grumbled Leia.
Sky huffed. "And you're wasting time. Care to tell me what's really bothering you?"
Leia made a moue of irritation; clearly, Sky wasn't as interested as he should be. She was, though. Just how did the Map work? Why had she never thought to ask Sirius or Lupin?
Come to think of it... should she contact Sirius? This Sirius? She shook off the thought quickly – now was not the time.
Sky sighed deeply and put his book aside: "Out with it."
"What?" asked Leia, distracted.
"Something's bothering you and it's not the Map."
Leia frowned: "Of course it's the Map. I-"
"Please. You're fidgeting and distracted and distracting, when I just want to finish this account and tackle Doherty's assignment." He glared a little, without heat. "What else is wrong?"
"Nothing!" A pause. "Did you know Kevin's almost worked out the whole Philosopher's Stone business?"
"What?!"
"Well, maybe not all of it. But he's well on his way."
Sky thought for a moment. "I don't think it's that serious. What can he do about it, after all?"
"We did an awful lot."
"We had an awful lot of motivation. Besides, it might be a wake up call for our esteemed Headmaster. I understand his wanting to give you a chance at confronting your foe and all, but he did put the whole school in danger. In retrospect, it was an extremely foolish thing to do. Maybe if someone else gets close, he'll think twice on involving the school in the war again..."
Leia personally doubted it, but let it go.
"That it?" asked Sky gently.
"Yes. No. Maybe." Leia fidgeted some more. "Did you know Sally Anne Perks had a nervous breakdown because of Parkinson's taunting? And that Hannah was near tears because she can't get the exercises about transfiguring only material, without changing shape, and she thinks she'll be in trouble with her mum if she fails Transfiguration? And Justin's little brother is a closeted pyromaniac. Oh, and Parvati's hurt that her aunt thought her a Ravenclaw. And..." she trailed off.
Sky gave her a blank gaze.
"Never mind," she sighed.
It was clear that her best friend was as left out as she was, and just as clear that he wasn't bothered.
Leia wondered why she was bothered. When she was Harry Potter, she very seldom knew anything about what went on around her, unless she herself was the subject of gossip, and she'd never felt bad about it. Why was it so different this time around?
Was it because she wasn't famous?
Only, that wasn't entirely true. There was Quidditch, for starters: she was the youngest Seeker in a century (again) and that meant everybody in the school could put a name to her face. But she was also, to her badly concealed horror, dealing with a kind of fame, or infamy as it were, that she'd really hoped to leave behind since she no longer had Harry Potter's stupid scar; and all because of her (necessary but) ill-conceived escapade to St. Mungo's.
People whispered and pointed when she passed and she found it depressingly familiar; but she couldn't reasonably expect the wild speculations to die down, since nobody had been told just how, exactly, she'd managed to lose 80 points all by herself and earn more detentions than the Weasley Twins combined. Something they were attempting to rectify, much to the teachers' horror - the attempts at blowing up the dungeons again were multiplying, with varied and mostly unexpected results. Which Leia was invariably tasked with cleaning up. Urgh.
As if the detention themselves weren't enough, Wood's outrage at her reduced time for Quidditch practice had reached headache-inducing levels and gave no sign of lessening. She almost, not quite but almost, wished she'd be ignored like she'd been after losing all those points in his first First Year.
All in all, even though she was determined not to slip again and to make up for and strengthen the relationships she'd allowed to slip, by the end of the first week of her Catching Up Plan she felt so exhausted she almost looked forward to her weekend detention.
Then again, the prospect of a time with Hagrid instead of Snape the Malevolent or Filch the Spiteful was always a welcome one and so, she happily skipped down to the groundskeeper's cabin, ready and eager to try her hand at whatever new task the Half-giant had for her.
However, the more she neared the familiar hut, the more she realized there was something wrong.
Her mouth opened in shock: the small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest looked, unlike usual, completely unfriendly; all openings were barred and bolted, and when she got near, Fang came running and scrabbling from behind the hut, rather than from inside; he was barking boomingly at her in welcome, but Leia scratched his ears only distractedly. The black boarhound was rarely far from Hagrid, yet the half-giant was nowhere to be seen.
Leia also noticed that the crossbow that Hagrid usually left outside the front door with his galoshes wasn't there: since the half-giant should be home, the fact that he felt the need to keep his weapon with him wasn't a good sign.
Her stomach clenching with nervousness, Leia felt her memory being joggled by the sight of all the curtains being tightly closed and when Hagrid called out a wary "Who is it?" before he let her in, and then shut the door quickly behind her, for a moment she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Norbert!
Somehow, Hagrid had got his hands on the baby dragon again. There was no other explanation!
How could she have forgotten? How could she have missed the signs? How could she have left this risk unchecked? More importantly, how should she deal with that?
But, no... no... no! Quirrelmort wasn't around! This wasn't supposed to happen! How could Hagrid have got his hands on a dragon egg this time! No no no!
Then her common sense caught up with her and she breathed more easily.
There was no blazing fire in the grate and it certainly wasn't as stifling hot inside as it had been when Hagrid had tried to keep the dragon egg as warm as its nesting mother would have by breathing fire on it. Furthermore, Hagrid's single room showed no sign of brandy barrels to be mixed with chicken's blood to feed a hatchling: she was relieved to see the usual pheasants and bundles of unicorn hair hanging from the ceiling, the massive bed with its patchwork in the corner and Hagrid putting on his copper kettle as usual.
Her racing heart slowly calmed – somewhat at least: so there was no baby dragon to deal with, hopefully... but then, what was going on?
Her eyes fell on what looked suspiciously like a Weasley Portable Swamp in a somewhat hidden corner. Surely they hadn't invented them yet? And what was Hagrid doing with one even then?
When she turned expectantly to him, Hagrid looked mightily embarrassed.
"Friend of mine," he mumbled. "Tried to crossbreed wirry-cows and dugbogs. Ain't 'em cute babies? huh?"
Leia kept a stone face only through long, long practice. And deep-rooted affection.
The things feebly moving in the corner of the made-up swamp resembled pieces of dead wood with weak, finned paws; but she knew from experience that dugbogs had viciously sharp teeth and would attack the ankles of any incautious humans who ventured into their habitat with relish.
These 'babies' didn't seem to be able to glide through marshland like true dugbogs, though: they were gawky instead and occasionally they turned invisible for a little while. A corner of her mind wondered in dismayed fascination whether they would be as prone as pure wirry-cows to steal cows and procreate with them. She didn't think it would be easy for them.
As soon as she caught this train of thought, she felt like banging her head on the wall to get rid of it.
"They ain't dangerous or anythin'," said Hagrid quickly. "Only I 'av ta keep 'em secret, see."
"They're not illegal, are they?" Leia asked, dreading the answer - memories of illegally-bred Blast-ended Skrewts dancing in her head.
"No! 'Course not! Just... Professer Sprout won't be best please, I reckon. They like Mandrakes, see."
Leia's alarm returned: "But Hagrid, Mandrakes are important!"
What if they couldn't stop the Basilisk in time next year and Hagrid's monsters had destroyed all Mandrakes? That would be a disaster!
"Not ta worry, not ta worry! I ain't lettin' 'em out!"
Leia forced herself to take a deep breath: "Just promise me something," she pleaded. "Promise me you won't try and raise a dragon on your own, no matter how much you wish you could." Just in case.
Hagrid looked very disappointed. "Aw, well, I suppo' yer right on tha'. It bein' illegal..."
The utter relief at having dodged the baby-dragon disaster was followed by a personal triumph of hers: the Stubborn Stain from Hell was at last defeated!
To Leia's everlasting surprise, Julia's advice had turned out to be quite useful: the woman had sent her a box of baby powder (of all things!) and strict instructions on how to mix a paste with it, which then Leia proceeded to spread on the stain as directed and let it sit for several minutes as she went about scrubbing the rest of the floor, continuously darting dubious glances to the off-putting, yellowish-whitish stuff in the corner (which made the time pass four times more slowly than usual, oddly enough).
However, despite her misgivings, when she wiped the paste off with a damp cloth, the stain went with it. Surprised and pleased, she whooped enthusiastically: "Victory! Ha! Take that, Demonic Stain from Hell!"
An amused chuckle reminded her that her overseer for the evening was Supervisor Norland.
"Fascinating!" the Potion Mistress breathed. "And you say this muggle poultice is used on children?"
"Err... no. Yes. I mean," Leia floundered, vaguely wishing she'd ever paid attention to anything related to babies, but really, who would have, in his place? "Just the powder, I think, for babies, so they don't get rushes and... stuff," she finished lamely. "The mixture is if you want to use it for cleaning." I think, she didn't add.
"Fascinating," repeated the woman with a look of intense concentration. "I never imagined... these ingredients don't have any kind of magical properties, how can they..." she mumbled.
Leia sighed, half in resignation, half in exasperation: "Well how do you expect Muggles to heal anyway? It's obvious they use non-magical ingredients! Seeing as they are, you know. Non-magicals!"
The woman blinked: "Of course," she agreed. "You're right, I guess I just didn't stop to think... but this is fascinating."
"So you mentioned," mumbled Leia, though only under her breath. She didn't want the woman irritated.
"I must experiment!" Norland declared quite suddenly. And dramatically.
"Exp...?"
"Yes. Yes, indeed!" she pierced Leia with a look that was at once incredibly intense and very, very faraway. "Let's stop here, I think. And don't worry about tomorrow's detention... you can skip it."
Leia's eyebrows rose of their own accord, but she didn't dare breathe, in case the Supervisor changed her mind. Norland, however, was simply mumbling under her breath and quickly ushered her away, snatching the box of baby powder on her way out.
Oh, well.
If she wanted to experiment, who was Leia to get in her way? She wasn't going to complain about a free evening, that was for sure!
What with one thing and another, the next Quidditch match caught her completely by surprise.
Privately, she blamed Oliver's ranting. She'd had to tune it out as a form of self-defence and so she hadn't paid attention to when it had become frantic in a match-looming-over-us kind of way.
As luck would have it, they were playing against Hufflepuff and it was an easy enough win. The team wasn't anywhere as good as it would become when Cedric joined. Really, Leia was almost disappointed that it was over so quickly (even though she hadn't matched her personal record for fastest Snitch-capture).
The most relevant moment of the whole day was also the most embarrassing: she ran into Cedric after the match and he complimented her in passing, throwing her a friendly smile.
It was still a little thrill to meet him, every time – it felt like a victory in a way she couldn't really explain. That didn't mean, however, that she would have made a huge fuss about such a casual thing as a careless 'Good match!' between fellow Seekers. Unfortunately, it wasn't up to her, because Lavender and Parvati were with her (they made it a point to 'support' her at every match) and they were still convinced that Cedric was her 'one true love' or some such rot. Leia cursed her bad luck and tried not to scream when they started giggling and swooning.
Lavender, of course, was gushing loudly about romantic one-on-one Quidditch matches in the sunset and stealing kisses while on their brooms (which Leia personally thought demonstrated Lavender's lack of familiarity with both flying and kissing) and how they would catch each other's eyes during matches and realize in mid-air that they were 'a match made in heaven'. Or something. A lot of people were avidly listening (and more than half of them were laughing openly and heartily).
Leia did her best to stomp away with as much of her dignity as she could keep intact and maybe she would have managed, if Ron hadn't been there to loudly, and vociferously, mock her, going so far as to follow her to the locker rooms just to laugh at her some more.
Losing patience, Leia nastily pointed out that no-one else was making a big deal of it. "Only you and Lavender. Birds of a feather flock together..." she sing-songed. "Maybe you two are the 'match made in heaven'!"
Lavender shrieked in delighted outrage and she and Parvati immediately shifted the focus of their mad giggling to Ron. With dark satisfaction, Leia left behind a gaping, sputtering Ron, at risk of chocking on his own horrified indignation, and stomped off in a foul mood.
She was sure there hadn't been all this ridiculous romance drama the First Time, not until sixth year at the very least! Or had he just not noticed?
The Quidditch match had been somewhat of a surprise to Sky, too.
Not the results of course – Harry might be using her body, but he was still the best Seeker Hogwarts had seen in decades.
It weirded her out that a girl who looked exactly like her could be so at ease on a broom, but he gladly cheered for Leia with everybody else.
No, it was the rest...
She'd been so cut off from all this as of late, so lost in thoughts and worries more suited to the adult she'd been than to the child she was, so weighted by fates and decisions and the need for actions no-one would ever be grown up enough to be ready to face.
To find herself in the midst of normal, teenager school-life was... disconcerting.
She knew Leia was feeling similarly unsettled, but didn't particularly want to discuss the matter. She was used to having all the answers, and this time she hadn't: it didn't sit well with her. All she wanted was a bit of calm to figure stuff out.
She sat through classes and meals and free time in vague amazement, submerged in everyday comings and goings, letting the noise wash over her.
The only time when she didn't feel unsettlingly disengaged from her activities were the Mind Arts lessons, which they were all still more-or-less following, but her newfound distrust of the teacher after the events of Christmas, coupled with his hints that they would soon move to "the next level", was hindering both her progress and her serenity.
As a bit of a defensive mechanism, she threw herself into studying, mumbling excuses about having missed weeks of coursework and breathing easier when everybody backed off in sympathy.
Since the actual schoolwork had no hope of keeping her interest, however, she put most of her efforts into researching magical theory as in-depth as the Hogwarts resources allowed her. After all, she had a number of things to figure out – the Switch, their wonky magic, Parseltongue, the Horcruxes, the Marauders' Map...
"You know how the Purebloods think Muggleborns are second-class citizens who are inferior and unworthy of being allowed to practice magic?" Sky said a propos of nothing, one day when Leia had hunted him down in his tucked away corner of the library.
Leia lifted her head from her Transfiguration homework and looked at him. "Hm?"
"And the Equalists think that anyone born with the ability of using magic has the same potential and therefore the same right to learn and practice magic?"
"Equalists?"
"And the general opinion seems to be a bit halfway through?"
Leia frowned. "Hu-uh?"
"It seems everybody's right."
Leia nodded slowly: "Which... just means nobody has a clue and they're just happening to guess a few details."
Sky sighed. "Pretty much, yeah."
There was a pause.
"I wish I could visit Sophia Antipolis," said Sky, with a faraway look that wasn't seeing his books spread before him.
"Huh?" Leia blinked, distracted from her essay again.
"It's in Greece," explained Sky. "A centre of international studies on the nature and properties of magic, under the guise of a muggle research centre. On physics, you know – supposedly they need a lot of space underground... I'm not sure why... but in any case most of the area is not at all empty, just hidden."
"Typical," muttered Leia with a half-smile.
"It's considered the top place in Europe for magical research. I wish... well, I don't know, really, but maybe they could help us figure out... this?" He made a haphazard motion to encompass both of them and their situation.
"You would tell them – tell anyone – about... this?" asked Leia incredulously, repeating the haphazard gesture.
Biting his lower lip in a way that looked rather out of place on Harry Potter's face, Sky quickly admitted: "Well, no." After a moment, he added petulantly: "Well, then, maybe I could go there and research... this, myself." The haphazard gesture made its appearance again. "You know, after Hogwarts," he said vaguely.
Leia smiled widely, amused. "Maybe we could start dropping hints about a holiday in Greece."
Sky scowled: "I doubt it would do much good, what with the whole grounded-till-you're-fifty thing. Still can't believe you were so foolish."
"Hey!" protested Leia. "I did it for you!"
"Besides, my parents are going to want to go to France, you know that. They always do."
"Next year, then," shrugged Leia, undaunted. "Or the one after that."
Sky frowned. "But..."
"Hermione." The firm tone was as shocking as his real name and he hissed in alarm.
Leia ignored him: "No offence meant, but this isn't important."
"It so is!" was the instant, indignant retort.
"Ok, right; bad wording," quickly acknowledged his friend. "It is important, I agree. But Hermione, it isn't urgent."
Sky's frown deepened.
Leia sighed: "Look, we have a grasp on our magic now."
"More or less," grumbled Sky.
"Enough that we can get by!" reproached Leia. "Voldemort is our priority. So long as our magic works, figuring out the fine details can wait."
"Don't you want to know the whys?"
They scowled at each other and then both sighed deeply.
"I want to live enough and in a peaceful enough world to have the time and chance to figure them out," said Leia flatly.
Sky winced and let it go.
It was true that they had both got a firm handle on their wonky magic at last. Perhaps it was just that they were now used to the difference, finally overcoming the strangeness that had hindered them in the beginning; more likely, Flitwick's exercises had worked wonders on their understanding and control.
The fact remained that Sky hadn't exploded anything in ages and was finding it easier to gain good results, now that he'd consented to give up his previous exacting standards of precision and was focusing more on the overall quality of the result than on the details of the process. Leia, too, was more and more consistent in her achievements since she'd agreed to break down the spells in series of steps and practice each before the whole; faced with excellent improvements, she didn't grumble anymore about the time she had to spend analysing a spell in its components before mastering it.
As Leia said, it was enough to go on.
In any case, there was a lot more to research about than just magical theory – Leia's stark remainder of the realities of war sent Sky back to the books about the Founders and their legacies. A topic that, as he found out when he stopped trying to isolate himself, Kevin and the others had researched in depth, albeit with absolutely no structure or logic, so that the results were many and varied, but not very comprehensive.
That mattered little, however: he could improve on the gathered resources easily, he was very good at research after all!
Weirdly enough, it was his burying himself in books and research that, in a roundabout way, brought Sky back into their friends' sphere.
At first it was discussing their mutual findings on Hogwarts history, but soon it evolved when Parvati and her twin, Padma, started asking him random questions at mealtimes. And by that, he meant really random.
Sky had the sneaky suspicion that the two were looking up little-known topics in the library just to test him, but the habit of answering when an academic question was asked was so ingrained that most of the time, he found himself going off on the topic at length, no matter how obscure.
He wasn't sure what to think of it: as party tricks go, it didn't seem much.
Nevertheless, they seemed to delight in it and in any case, it made for some interesting conversation topics in their spare time.
Not that they needed it! Everybody talked of just one thing in the weeks leading up to Easter: Flitwick's Duel Competition was coming up!
The lower years were all abuzz. Some were fretting about their level of ability, most were frantically practising in empty corners, all were happy to chatter about it non-stop. Everybody had a favourite 'game' and taunts and challenges were thrown back and forth with great fun.
The teachers were busy organizing the needed spaces and props, the older students were just as busy organizing a wager ring and gossiping about the younger ones' skill, or lack thereof; Dumbledore had announced the tournament officially at one dinner, beaming warmly at the Great Hall and promising a special banquet after the event.
While a part of him wished such a thing could have been organized the First Time, when she would no doubt have enjoyed it immensely (aside for worrying herself sick over her own performance), Sky couldn't entirely share in the general enthusiasm.
He would, of course, take part, and so would Leia: as Terry aptly put it, they'd "practically prepared for this moment since September!" and it would be quite strange to miss it. But truthfully, the only thing that Sky appreciated of the matter was that it would happen before Easter, so there would be no problems of overlapping with study time for the final exams.
Nobody else was concerned with that, however: everybody was in high spirit about the competition and, at most, looking forward to the brief holiday after that.
The palpable excitement sent Sky's mind down a completely different path, however.
With everybody distracted by what was surely the biggest event of the year, at least for the Sky Club, it was likely their best chance to further their goals without anyone nosing in what the two of them got up to. Leia's stark remainder that Voldemort was still out there convinced him that this was the perfect time to act, now that the school's attention was firmly on something else.
So, after going over all his notes twice more, Sky went to Leia with a Plan.
It was time to corner the Bloody Baron.