Chapter 8
Albus Dumbledore was not having a good month.
His income stream had just gone down by the amount of one tenured teacher with seventy years of seniority. A ghost had no need of galleons, so Professor Binns's wages had been conveniently routed to the Headmaster's 'discretionary' fund. Remus Lupin, on the other hand, actually expected to be paid. Harry Potter had dropped off the face of the Earth and the House of Merlin, the so called 'Founder's Four,' was exerting influence over the school the likes of which he'd never seen, in spite of the fact that they were all firsties!
Thursday, September 19th, Harry and Hermione made their way up to the astronomy tower to study the night sky. Neville and Pansy were close behind. Once the class cleared the top of the tower, Professor Sinestra planned to give them each a different planet to find and describe.
Thursday evening classes tended to be low key, as there were no early morning classes on Friday mornings. It didn't hurt to keep the students up late. She noticed there was a bit of tension in her own House, easy to spot when you only have four students. For some unknown reason, Harry seemed to be straggling behind, and keeping the other three with him.
"Catch up," Sinestra chided, "It wouldn't do for my own House to be late for class!"
When they got to the top of the tower, it was festooned with streamers and balloons and, on a massive table, an equally massive cake.
As soon as Hermione cleared the top stair to the tower, twelve candles on the cake flared to life.
"Surprise!"
Hermione Granger, gob-smacked, walked to the table where candles blazed over a cake that read, "Happy Birthday, Hermione!"
"I. I thought you'd all forgotten…"
Harry smirked, "Not bloody likely."
"Language."
"Sorry, Your Grace. Well, blow out the candles!"
"Make a wish!"
She looked at Harry, smiled prettily and said, "I already have."
"Well," the professor said, in mock exasperation, "We may as well eat this, our night vision is shot for at least half an hour."
The Puffs and Claws, with whom the Founders had Astronomy class, cheered and tucked in.
Neville and Pansy gave Hermione a lap desk.
"You like to study in bed, and this way you'll have a comfortable surface for taking notes." Pansy reasoned.
Luna sent her a delicate bookmark made of wafer-thin silver, with a dragon design etching.
Harry gave her a boxed set of Patricia Wrede's Enchanted Forest series, Dealing with Dragons, Searching for Dragons, and Talking with Dragons.
"I want you to do some reading just for fun. These are very good, and I hear she's working on a fourth book in the series."
Her father sent along a three-part gold locket that opened up in four sections along with instructions to "Fill the locket with loved ones."
Her mother sent her a smallish purse, and, in the purse, a sturdy wind-up wrist watch - as anything electronic would go wonky at Hogwarts.
All told, Hermione insisted it was her best birthday ever.
)O(
When the Founder's four got back to their rooms they wasted no time getting to bed, because all the real progress they were making, whether in class or in their 'special' project, was in Dreamscape.
Lady Helena and Sir Nicholas greeted them as they entered the dream library. The Bloody Baron sketched a half-bow, as Brother Michael, the corpulent friar, looked up from the scrolls he was studying to give them a friendly nod.
"Lord Slytherin," the Baron asked, "have you sussed the evil that is rising?"
Harry rolled his eyes, "Lord Baron, could you please just call me Harry?"
"'Tis not easy to change my ways, my lord, I have been haunting this castle for most of a millennium."
"Please, Baron, try."
"I will, my lord, now, can you tell us what you have found?"
Harry turned to his bushy-haired friend, "Hermione?"
She cleared her throat, then thought, Why would anyone in Dreamscape have to do that? Oh well, old habits.
"Empirical evidence suggests that macro-cosmic magic undergoes cycles, fluctuations whereby dark magic overcomes the forces of light, only to be subdued again. Representing cycles of darkness and light in the magical realms."
Pansy nudged Neville, who held up a large vellum chart. She described the graph, "In the Twentieth Century there have been two large spikes, where conflicts encompassed whole nations, here in the first decades of this century, and later in the Thirties and Forties. These global conflicts involved not only the magical realms, but the mundane nations as well. There is a third spike, not quite as large, but still significant, near the end of the sixth decade. However, although tensions between non-magical nations were high, there were no wholesale conflicts. 'Bush wars' broke out, where smaller nations clashed as proxies for the greater military powers."
Harry took over, "In each of these cases, where there are spikes," he gestured the crests formed by the sinusoidal wave on the chart, "there was a Dark Lord."
"In each case, a Dark Lord rose to power, only to be brought down, either by a champion of light, the efforts of a dedicated resistance, or a combination of the two."
Hermione added, "There is anecdotal evidence of similar spikes going back ten centuries, where, in a cycle of thirty to fifty years, a powerful wizard or witch would attempt to subjugate the magical world and impose his or her will on, well, everybody."
The four ghosts exchanged glances.
Helena asked, "Can you form a conclusion from your observations?"
Harry shook his head, "No, we have a qualified guess, backed up by observations, but for now?" He shrugged his shoulders.
Hermione added, "It looks good on paper, but none of us can say for certain."
Neville concluded, "We believe another Dark Lord or Lady will emerge from the remnants of the Death Eaters."
Harry and Hermione shared a look, which the Bloody Baron noticed, "What is it, Lord Slytherin, Lady Hufflepuff?"
Hermione nodded for Harry to field the question, "It just seems too easy."
Brother Michael, taken aback, asked, "Too easy?"
"Yes, Brother. A Dark Lord, or Lady, vying for power could effectively be contained by any competent, Governmental Law Enforcement Agency."
Hermione continued, "Let's say a new, powerful Dark Lord rises? If our purpose is to take him down, where does that leave the rest of Mage society?"
Sir Nicholas looked confused, "Better off?"
Pansy shook her head vehemently, "No, worse!"
"You'll have a population that, through no effort or sacrifice of their own, will see yet another dark lord defeated. This will lead to complacency, and a sense of unearned entitlement."
Neville nodded his head, "A whole magical generation that will believe that, as long as they do nothing, everything will work out for them."
Harry concluded, "And the only thing an evil wizard needs to succeed, is for good wizards to do nothing."
The four House ghosts were all standing by that point, "So, what do we do?"
"We have to defeat the evil that is rising, but do it in a way that will require the magical world, or at least, magical Britain, to get off their collective arses."
)O(
The House of Merlin had History of Magic with Gryffindor and Slytherin. As usual, the Merlins sat in front, Harry with Hermione and Neville with Pansy.
Professor R J Lupin entered and tapped the chalkboard with his wand, and the lesson of the day materialized in neat, block letters:
Current events - and how we got here.
"Good morning, class." The soft-spoken man started, "I must begin with an apology. For those of you who are used to having free time for reading or revising for other classes, or sleeping, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong room. Professor Binns is still discussing the Goblin Wars, ad nauseum, in his old classroom."
There were a few nervous chuckles in the room.
"Upon my word, I can't imagine how anyone can describe some of the most heroic battles of all time with such enthusiasm as to induce catatonia."
More chuckles now, as students listened, quills poised.
"We will, of course, meet the goals and objectives set forth in the class syllabus, but, in addition, I want us all to know where we are, today, as young witches and wizards, and, most importantly," Professor Lupin touched the blackboard with his wand for emphasis, "How we got here."
The professor captured his class with a hard stare, "Why?"
Hermione started to raise her hand, but Harry gently placed his hand on her arm, whispering, "Let someone else have this one."
Lupin's eyes lit on the back of the room, "Yes, Miss Bulstrode?"
"So we don't make the same mistakes our folks did?"
"Excellent, take five points for Slytherin."
Pansy turned and gave her childhood playmate a thumbs up.
The professor continued, his enthusiasm infectious, "Indeed, Edmund Burke, a muggle philosopher and statesman, said it best over two hundred years ago, quote, ""Those who don't know history are destined to repeat it," unquote."
Remus looked at the front two tables and smiled, "You knew that, though, didn't you?"
All four heads nodded.
The rest of the class was a breath of fresh air for students who'd endured ninety minutes of monotone droning about "Ripfang the Reprehensible" and the dry statistics that quantified his appetite for general mayhem. If the first year students were relieved, the second through fifth years were ecstatic. There are no NEWT level History of Magic classes, so the course of study ends with the OWLs.
Hermione greeted the Remus at the end of class, "Professor, I noticed the second years have a research project."
The professor nodded, "Yes."
"We," she gestured to the other three Merlins, "are very interested in historical trends, and would like to study them, in addition to our regular class work. May we?"
Remus looked puzzled, "Are you asking to, um, 'step outside the box,' as it were, to do more for this class than is required?"
"Yes, sir. And we would like to ask you, from time to time, to check our progress."
Smiling, the professor asked, "Is this some kind of elaborate prank?"
Four faces, grave and impassive, looked back.
"Oh, you're serious. Very well, yes, of course, but you will still be expected to produce a research project in your second year, is that acceptable."
Hermione asked, "May we continue on the same topic we used for this year, Professor Lupin?"
"Yes, yes of course, Miss Granger."
As he answered Hermione's question, Remus's attention focused on the auburn-haired boy.
And he shuddered.
Remus couldn't say why, but something about Harold Evans was off. He was an excellent student, as were all in his house, however, the professor's furry little problem did endow him with true extra sensory perceptions, and Evans was a complete enigma. In short, he didn't smell quite right. Not bad, mind you, just not right.
)O(
October Thirty-first came with a light dusting of frost and a troll.
Without a trace of stutter, a shrill, huffing, puffing, Quirinus Quirrell screeched, "Troll! Troll in the dungeon! Thought you ought to know."
Then fell flat on his face.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, "Didn't you tell me a fainting person usually falls backwards?"
She narrowed her eyes at the prostrate professor and said, "Yes, I read about it in the 'Handbook for Girl Guides.' Usually your knees buckle, then you fall backwards."
Through the cacophony of students and the magically amplified Headmaster, Professor Sinestra was able to tell her House, using simple gestures, to go to the Founder's common room.
Their House was the only one in the centre of the school, rather than one of the peripheral corners, so they quickly separated from the rest of the student body.
As they turned the corner for the staircase leading up from the second floor, they smelled something that reeked of putrid bog and old socks. And saw the troll lumber into a girl's bathroom.
Harry ran up to the bathroom door and quickly pulled it hard, setting a locking charm as the door slammed shut.
"Got him, now we just need to get the professors here…"
Whatever else he was going to say was cut short by the sound of shattered porcelain and a girl screaming.
His face went white as all his blood seemed to flow to his feet.
"Someone's in there!"
Without a further thought, he banished the door just in time to see the troll raise his club.
"Hermione, Pansy! Ice the floor, now!"
"Planto glacies!"
Luckily, there was already a great deal of water on the floor from where the troll had smashed sinks and burst pipes.
"Neville, summon the club on three, two, one… Accio club!"
Trolls are not known for their intelligence.
This one had raised his club to smack the dark, annoying sounding, screaming girl and, at full extension, felt the club pull him back.
It never occurred to the troll to simply let go of the club.
Club and troll tumbled backwards, then began to slide on the ice toward the young wizards.
"Um, Harry, he's coming this way."
"I know. Hermione, Pansy, keep icing the floor. Neville, get that girl out of the bathroom."
Neville balked, "I can't go into a girls bathroom!"
"Go!"
"Alright, alright!"
Harry directed his wand at the troll's center of mass and intoned, "Roto."
Seven hundred pounds of troll began to spin, slowly at first, then faster and faster as the frozen floor had become a virtually frictionless surface.
Neville slipped and slid past the rotating behemoth and into the bathroom, emerging a few moments later with a wet and cowering Parvati Patil.
This was the scene that a flabbergasted Scottish Deputy Headmistress came upon, flanked by Professors Snape and Quirrell.
"Whit dae ye think yer daein'?"
Harry happily stepped back and let the troll spin down.
Hermione explained, "We were on our way up to our common room, when we saw the troll enter the girl's bathroom. Harry saw a chance to contain it without endangering himself or anyone else so he closed and locked the door on it."
"Unfortunately, the bathroom wasn't empty. We heard screams so we opened the door and iced the floor, making the troll slip and fall. Harry kept the troll unbalanced while Neville got Parvati out of the bathroom, and then we saw you."
"And did it not occur to any of you come get a professor?"
Pansy, slightly exasperated, "Ma'am, it took two of us to keep the floor iced, Harry's spell was spinning the beast to keep it from getting up and Neville was making sure Parvati was okay. We honestly couldn't spare anyone."
Neville added, "And in the time it would have taken to get a professor, Pavarti would been killed."
The troll, dizzy from the spin tried to get up, only to slip and fall on the ice.
Professor McGonagall snapped the two professors with her from their shock-induced stupor and ordered, "Somnus on three, gentlemen. One, two, three… Somnus."
With that, the troll slept.
"I hope you realize, Mister Evans, that not many first year students could face a fully grown mountain troll, and live to tell the tale. Twenty five points, for each of you, for pure audacity and more than a dram of sheer, dumb luck."
Severus Snape grinned, or perhaps grimaced, it was hard to tell with him.
Quirinus Quirrell stood silent and amazed throughout the interview.
)O(
Ronald Weasley was nervous. He'd been summoned by his Head of House, and, unless she was going to start a chess club, it couldn't be for any good reason that he could think of.
"Mr Weasley, do you know why you're here?"
"No, Professor."
"Yesterday, in Professor Flitwick's Charms class, you were having difficulty using the levitation spell, am I correct?"
"It's not an easy spell, ma'am."
"Indeed. And one of your classmates, a fellow Gryffindor, no less, attempted to help you with the charm…"
"I was mad at the feather, ma'am. I didn't mean to say, um, what I said."
"And what did you say, Mr Weasley?"
"I told Parvati, that is, Miss Patil, to, um, leave me be."
"Your exact words?"
"I may have used the word wog."
"According to five of your Housemates, you said, quote, "Bugger off you bloody wog," unquote."
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Really I am."
"You may have heard the old saying, sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, that's rubbish. Names hurt, deeply. You cut Miss Patil to the quick with your thoughtless, childish outburst, and, as a consequence, she spent the rest of the afternoon in the second floor girls bathroom, crying."
"I'm sorry…"
"And when the troll got into the castle, do you have any idea where it went?"
"The troll?"
"Yes, Mr Weasley, the troll."
Ashen faced, Ronald said, "No, please no…"
Minerva nodded, seeing that she was getting through to the errant ginger. "Yes, Mr Weasley. She was very nearly killed by that troll. If it hadn't been for the skills and quick thinking of four of our finest students, she would have been killed.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your lack of judgment and an additional ten points for that foul, racist term. In addition you will spend the next month after dinner cleaning out the bathrooms on all the floors. Lastly, you will apologize to Miss Patil, publicly, in the same classroom where you insulted her, and you will be sincere."
Tears of guilt and shame coursed down Ron's cheeks as he nodded. It was no less than what he deserved, and he knew it.
)O(
The Founder's Four were in the Potion Master's dungeon after their last class of the day, carefully rendering freshly-shed boomslang skin.
Neville pondered, aloud, "I wonder if anyone has ever studied whether the green skin from the male boomslang snake makes a more effective polyjuice potion when taken by a boy or man?"
He was startled when Professor Snape, who had silently moved behind him, said, "That was the basis for my Potion's Master's Thesis."
Hermione asked, "Oh, may I read that, please Professor?"
Snape smirked, "Of course, and perhaps you will discover for yourself the glaring fallacy in my conclusion that the Master's board missed entirely."
Satisfied that he'd rendered the garrulous Miss Granger speechless, Professor Snape ghosted from the lab.
Harry, lost in thought, muttered, "I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about that Professor that sets me on edge."
Hermione asked, "Professor Snape? I thought you loved his class."
"No, not Professor Snape, I mean Quirrell. Have you seen the way he watches us, like he's trying to catch us at something?"
Pansy nodded, "Um, hum. And I've noticed his stutter comes and goes."
"We'll keep an eye on him inasmuch as we can."
)O(
The first week of December brought snow and Luna.
Harry and Hermione waited in front of the main entrance for the "horseless" carriage to arrive. His Luna was coming to Hogwarts today, and, if all went well, would be joining them in the Founder's House after the Yule break.
Hermione giggled, "Calm down, Harry, it's not like we haven't spoken with her since the end of August. We "talk" to each other every night through our charmed quills."
"I know, I know, it's just that… There she is!"
Harry didn't notice Hermione's sad little smile as he actually jumped for joy at seeing Luna again.
Am I jealous? She asked herself.
Maybe just a little. He thinks the world of "his" Luna.
The girl of the hour stepped out of the carriage, then went to where the horse would be, if there was one, and cooed while stroking a non-existent flank.
"Thank you for bringing us."
"Luna!"
She turned her too-large, dreamy, silver-grey eyes toward the sound of her name, then cried in delight as she spotted her Harry.
They ran, collided, embraced and fell on the frozen flagstones before Hogwarts main doors. Laughing, crying, squealing like the children they were, If they hadn't been wrapped in layers of thick, winter weight clothing, they might have been hurt.
Hermione groused, "A little decorum wouldn't go amiss, children!"
Harry and Luna lay on the wide, icy footpath and each held out a hand, clearly gesturing the need to be helped up.
As Hermione reached down, the two miscreants pulled her down on top of them. She shrieked, then proceeded to hug and laugh and tumble on the ground, together with her best friends.
And Hermione understood.
They were simply, well, right together, and she loved them as much as they loved her, and each other.
She might need therapy someday, but for now, she was going to go with it.
Xenophilius stepped out of the carriage and wished, not for the first time, that he'd brought a camera.
"Is this some new Hogwarts ritual, should I find someone to roll around on the ground with here in the eaves of the main entrance?"
Two things happened at that point.
Aurora Sinestra stepped out onto the icy footpath, extended her hand in greeting, and Xeno slipped on the ice.
Knocking the poised, well-dressed, head of House off her feet and onto him.
Harry and the girls jumped up to make sure Luna's dad and their Professor were unhurt, and, once they were satisfied that the only things badly bruised were egos, helped them to their feet. They laughed and chided the "old-folks" to be more careful.
The group convened in Professor McGonagall's office, where written assignments, essays, and lab notes were evaluated.
Professor McGonagall smiled at the high quality and sheer volume of the work done under Xeno's tutelage. "Excellent, first rate. I see no problem having Miss Lovegood test out of first term and placed as a first year come January"
Minerva, looked up from her notes to see the three children looking back and forth between Xenophilius and Aurora, pleading with their eyes.
"Something you wish to share, children, Mr Lovegood, Professor Sinestra?"
"If possible, the students of Merlin's House, and Miss Lovegood, would like to take the second-year, end of term exams, for the purpose of advanced placement."
Professor McGonagall sighed, "There are precedents, but this would have to be approved by the headmaster…"
Xenophilius smiled, "Or a majority of the members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors." He passed her a thick envelope.
Minerva opened the envelope and pulled several copies of the ancient, but still valid, advancement forms. The professor's eyebrows threatened to rise above her hairline, "You have nine of the twelve Governors backing you on this?"
Xeno shrugged, "Power of the press, I guess…"
Realizing she was dealing with ambitious, intelligent people who had done all their homework in this matter, she nodded her acquiescence.
"Don't be surprised when the Headmaster tries to invalidate this."
"Only if he wants to be crucified in the court of public opinion."
And Minerva McGonagall smiled, knowing that was Dumbledore's true Achilles heel. Public opinion mattered to him, above all else.
)O(
That evening Luna joined the Founders in Dreamscape. She was as much at home there as anywhere. She had no trouble accepting what was happening in her dreams were, in fact, happening.
"Many cultures insist dreamtime is every bit as relevant as waking time, Hogwarts just makes it more so."
)O(
Monday, the third week in December, five very young students sat in the first row of desks set up in the great hall for end of term testing.
Cho Chang, a second year student and reserve seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team cleared her throat and said, politely, "Excuse me, but I believe the first years take their end of term tests in the afternoon."
Luna smiled and said, "Thank you, I believe you're right."
Marietta Edgecombe scoffed, "Are you all thick, or just lost?"
Five faces looked back, calm, benign.
Reddening, Marietta demanded, "Do you even know what year you're in?"
Luna, still infuriatingly calm, said, "That's what these exams will decide."
Which brought guffaws from the gathering 'Claws.
Harry smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "How about a little wager on, say, which House has the highest marks?"
"What, money?"
"Nah, we don't need your money, got plenty of our own. I was thinking about a point of pride."
"Sounds good," Eddie Carmichael said. "Losers will serve us, I mean, the winners, during the feast before the Yule break."
"With no House-elf assistance." Harry agreed.
"High marks against high marks?" Cho asked.
Harry shook his head, "No, assign a point value to each mark, say a zero for poor and below. One point for Acceptable, two points for Exceeds Expectations and three for Outstanding marks."
You could see the wheels turning in the Ravenclaw's collective crania, the Founder's House would have to have perfect marks to win, one poor mark would pull their average down to a greater degree as there were only five of them.
Cho assumed the role of spokeswitch for her House, and, getting an affirmative nod from her classmates, held out her hand, "Done!"
"So say we all?" Harry asked of the room.
"So say we all, so mote it be!" the Ravenclaws cheerfully responded. There was no way they could lose to a bunch of firsties.
Harry smiled and said, "Done!"
The exams took two days, the professors, having been apprised of the wager, paid particular attention to both groups, and refused to publish the marks until the last exam, astronomy, was completed late on the second evening.
The Weasley twins had caught wind of the wager and were running book throughout the whole of Hogwarts, giving five to one odds on the "Founder's Five."
One minute past midnight, on the day before the feast, the results were announced.
The winners cheered, the losers groaned, but no one cried "Foul!"
During the Yule feast the round table was surrounded by the whole of Ravenclaw House, all of whom stood in solidarity with their humbled second years.
"After all," Professor Flitwick, head of House for the 'Claws insisted, "The wager was not for a class to serve, but an entire House."
So the Ravens ran relays, bringing holiday food and drink to the Merlin's table. The winners were gracious, thanking their "hosts" for their hard work and dedication, then begged them to all sit and enjoy the feast, as the spirit of the wager was more than satisfied.
Cheers all around.
The Weasley twins made a very tidy sum, as ninety percent of the bettors had wagered against the former "firsties." The twins, having learned earlier that it just didn't pay to go up against that House, put all their savings down on Harry and company.
Professor McGonagall brought out the Sorting Hat and announced, "We have the rare privilege of sorting a new student into her House mid-year. Miss Lovegood, if you please?"
Luna walked up to the Deputy Headmistress, studied the hat, then said, "You, sir hat, are very magical."
"Thank you dear, now, may I sort you?"
"Oh, yes, House of Merlin, please."
"Shouldn't I be the one to say that?" The hat said, with an unmistakable smirk in his torn brim.
Minerva raised the hat above Luna's head, but before it even touched the sandy-blonde hair it announced, "Merlin!"
)O(
The Yuletide Express rolled out of Hogsmeade station following the feast. Five newly minted second years found a compartment to share and discussed Hogwarts, the coming evil, and wondered if they would still be able to come together in Dreamscape once they'd left the castle.
The discussion came around to Defence Against the Dark Arts, and they wondered aloud how different the second year curriculum would be from first year.
Neville mused, "Same professor, but there must be a different focus, maybe more emphasis on practical defense, you know, like self defence and duelling."
They pondered the material on the first-term, second year exam - for which they had all earned full marks.
"Professor Quirrell has a second, third eye." Luna announced, as if she were commenting on the weather.
Four pairs of eyes widened over four slack jaws as everyone in the compartment waited for the explanation.
Harry recovered first, and explained, "Luna senses magic, a form of mage sight that perceives magic as basic, fundamental particles. I don't understand it, really, and I don't see it, myself, but I know it's true that she does."
"I see motes of golden light, which I call nargelites. The more magic in a person or any living thing, or magical artifact, come to that, the more nargelites."
"First time I met Luna she told me I had the most she'd ever seen, I thought she was taking the piss."
"In people, nargelites concentrate around certain parts of the body. The head, of course, the spine, hands and feet, and, once we're a little older, in our, um, more private areas."
Trying to move Luna out of the TMI territory, Harry prompted, "Third eye?"
"Oh yes, every magical being, witch or wizard, kneazle or crup or snorkack, all have a "third eye" in the centre of the forehead, equidistant from their two eyes. It's the third eye chakra, sometimes called the "inner eye."
Neville nodded, "My Nan is into meditation, and she talks about her third eye all the time."
Luna smiled, relishing the level of acceptance her Housemates were granting her. "Nargelites tend to cluster near the third eye, and Professor Quirrell has one on the back of his head, as well as the front."
Pansy snorted, "So he's two faced?"
Luna nodded.
"Wait, wait. I thought you were joking."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "It might be interesting to see what's beneath Quirrell's turban."
They discussed different ways to de-turban their Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for a while, when there was a polite knock at the sliding glass door.
Malfoy and his two shadows.
"Miss Parkinson, a word please."
"Very well. Crabbe, you stay here, Luna, would you come with me please?"
Draco looked hurt, "Don't you trust me?"
"Oh yes, Malfoy, like I'm going to accompany you and your two bully boys anywhere."
"Don't wanna stay here." Crabbe said, in a surprisingly high-pitched voice for such a large boy.
"I'll go with you, Pansy. That way the numbers will be even."
Pansy smiled, "Works for me, Luna, do you have your mirror? I need to powder my nose."
Luna handed over a small square plastic case.
"Thanks."
The six began to amble in the direction of the engine as Hermione pulled a mirror from her purse.
Harry raised an eyebrow, "Charmed mirrors?"
Hermione nodded, tapped hers and said, "Listen."
Draco was whispering, "…settled on a bride price. Your dowry is the title on the Parkinson lands after your parents are gone."
"Did they even ask if this is what you want, Draco?"
The Merlins heard a barking noise that was a combination snort and laugh, "As if they'd even ask me for my opinion. No, it's an old pureblood family thing."
She lowered her voice, "There may be another suit."
"Longbottom?"
"Maybe."
"At this point, all I'm supposed to do is tell you that an offer has been made. I haven't been told to get you to say yes… Yet."
"And if they do. Tell you, I mean."
"Let's hope they don't."
"I want to go back to the others now."
There was a rustle of cloth, a few murmured, "Beg pardons," and the odd entourage returned.
"See," Draco said with a smile that was more than a little forced, "All safe and sound."
With that the Slytherins walked away.
Pansy took her seat, smiled and hissed, "Hermione, listen to your mirror."
"You didn't…"
"What, drop my charmed mirror into Malfoy's pocket? That would be devious and underhanded and clever."
Everyone in the compartment got quiet and listened.
Another voice asked, "Well, what'd she say?"
Draco answered, "She didn't say no, but…"
A man's voice, albeit tinny and seemingly far away, said, "Probably trying to drive up the bride price. Who is it?"
"Longbottom."
Laughter, "That squib? No problem, he'll just have an unfortunate accident."
More laughter, "What of the Prince and his consort?"
The far away sounding voice demanded, "No one touches them! At least, not until I can make some inquires."
"That's Lucius Malfoy, Draco's dad," Pansy said, "I've heard enough," then opened the window and threw Hermione's mirror out to smash along the gravel rail bed. Everyone present knew that smashing one of a pair of magic mirrors automatically disenchants the other.
"I can feed them information about the reclusive nature of the Court of Magical Guyana. It'll be enough to satisfy Lucius Malfoy's curiosity. Wizards are far too lazy to do any real research on their own. Good thing for us."
Hermione smirked, "Pansy, how long have you known?"
"Since that first day in Diagon Alley. I thought I'd really put my foot in it, mouthing off to royals, but then I remembered my cousin Felix, who lives in Colombia. So I found a public Floo and called him to ask about South American royals. He told me there are none. No royal titles, aside from a few peers who have winter homes in Cartagena, Colombia and Georgetown in what used to be British Guyana."
"So, all this time, you've been playing along?"
Her only answer was to smile a brilliant smile.
The compartment rang with laughter.
Neville, who was in the dark about the "Royals" prank was clued in. "Hey, don't I rate a knighthood, at the very least?"
"Of course, Sir Neville of Longbottom, Knight of the Court of Georgetown."
Pansy groused, "Oi, what about me? Without me, half the school wouldn't even know about the supposed "blueness" of your blood!"
Harry touched her shoulder and said, solemnly, "We shall always honor Dame Pansy of Parkinson, special friend to the court and their Majesties the King and Queen."
"Dame Pansy," she mused, "I like it."
"Um, Pansy, do you want me to talk to Gran about, um…"
"Neville, we're both eleven. Do we need to be having this conversation?"
Neville sat upright, "I told you, Pansy, I've got your back. I want Gran to ask about you, for a possible betrothal sometime in the future. That way she will, by law, have to be notified if anyone else offers."
Pansy blinked several times, lest she betray any wetness forming in her dark eyes. "You actually want to do that for me?"
Neville took both her hands in his and said, "I do."
Harry sighed, "And like the royals of old, it looks like we all have a sword over each of our heads, dangling by a thread."
"We'd better grow eyes in the back of our heads."
The rest of the long trip passed in relative silence.
)O(
As always, many thanks to Tommy, whose brilliant Brit picking is, I'm sure responsible for the fact that Nargelites is my most popular story to date, based on the number of hits and reviews. I would also be remiss if I didn't thank all of you, who take the time to review after reading. Take a bow, you are the best.
Cheers!
N!