Professor Evariste smiled congenially as a flood of house-elves rushed to greet him.

"Hello, Clovey," he said, greeting one of the house-elves kindly. "Some tea will do for now, thank you."

The house elves scattered, all hurrying to brew some tea. Professor Evariste sat on a nearby stool and sighed contentedly.

"This was always one of my favorite places to hide away when I was a boy," he said, seemingly speaking to no one in particular. "I'd come down here to read a new book or study for exams. There was never a lack of food or good company."

"I could never study in here," said Rose tentatively. "Far too loud. James and I were just looking around."

"Of course," said Professor Evariste. "Your mother has done a lot of work with the house elves, right? I remember reading about some legislation she helped draw up."

Rose nodded.

"It's only natural for you to want to meet some for yourself," said Professor Evariste. Seeing Rose and James' expressions, he grinned. "Come now, you look like you think you're about to be expelled. If this castle is designed for one thing, it is exploration. I personally think it's one of the unspoken requirements of being a student here- the need to explore. So long as you're not wandering around when you're supposed to be in class, just keep your nose out of trouble and you'll be fine."

"We didn't mean to miss lunch," said Rose, feeling a knot in her chest loosen.

"We would never miss lunch," said James earnestly.

"Of course not. Oh, thank you Clovey," he said, taking a steaming mug of tea from the house elf before him, who seemed to be drowning in an assortment of blue scarves.

"I saw what happened with the dragons," said Rose as Professor Evariste blew on his tea. "The blue one started flying away, and the others went to bring it back."

"Interesting," said Professor Evariste simply.

"Should we go up to the Great Hall?" asked Rose. As if to punctuate her question, her stomach rumbled loudly.

Professor Evariste sighed and looked around. "I was hoping to avoid it, actually," he said. "You see, I'm in a bit of a... well, there's some tension between myself and Professor Randor. I'm sure your cousin Dominique is capable of handling things in my absence."

Rose fought back the intense urge to ask why he was fighting with Professor Randor. Instead, she took one of the sticky buns from James and began pulling pieces. Of course she thought of her next question while she was busy chewing and nearly choked while rushing to ask it.

"Do you think they're tracking down all of the students because someone was messing with the dragons?" she asked at last.

Professor Evariste paused, then said, "Perhaps. I suppose we should actually find out what's going on. Lunch is almost over, I'll just go find Minerva in her office."

James and Rose exchanged a surprised look- they hadn't heard anyone use Professor McGonagall's first name while they had been at school. Even the other teachers called her Professor.

"You two come along," continued Professor Evariste. "We need to tell her that you've been with me."

"Thanks for everything," Rose said to some of the surrounding house elves, who beamed up at her. "I'll...come visit soon."

"Twinkle will be seeing you soon, Miss!" called a tiny voice from somewhere across the room.

Rose followed Professor Evariste through the main door, then paused to gain her bearings. The door was actually another portrait hole, much like the one guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

"Let's hurry along, then," said Professor Evariste, already crossing the large room. "Don't want anyone to worry."

The corridors were mostly empty, though there were still a few students slowly making their way back from lunch. Rose had to take two steps for every one that Professor Evariste took and was out of breath by the time they reached the large bronze statue of an owl perched on a pedestal.

"Curry powder," said Professor Evariste to the owl. He grinned, seeing Rose's baffled expression. "You see, we were helping to plan this year's welcome feast, and-"

But the owl statue had slid back to reveal a spiral staircase.

"Well, then," said Evariste, "let's just head on up, now."

At the top of the staircase stood a large wooden door. Professor Evariste raised his hand to knock, then paused. A conversation was filtering through.

"The situation was completely under control," said an unfamiliar female voice. "Isla just needed to stretch her wings. They aren't used to not flying every day."

"Sister, Isla's environment was tampered with," said a man from within. "There were footprints. Someone was there."

"And I assure you," said Professor McGonagall, "such antics will not be tolerated. We will find out who was in the forest."

Professor Evariste straightened his robes, then knocked on the door.

"Come in," called Professor McGonagall.

Two of the Riders were seated across from Professor McGonagall at her large mahogany desk. Maria and Rodolfo had their heads together and were murmuring softly in Italian.

Professor McGonagall regarded Rose and James warily. "Hazen, we missed you at lunch," she said. "Please don't tell me you're here about the dragons."

"Dragons?" said Professor Evariste, feigning surprise. "No, I was just with these two when we heard your announcement. Rose wanted to meet some of the house elves who work here- you know how involved her mother is. Just wanted to make sure they were accounted for." As an afterthought, he added, "I hope all is well."

"Students should return to their common rooms," said Professor McGonagall wearily. "Dominique made a list of students who were at lunch. I need you to match it with your master list and let me know who we were missing."

"I'll get that to you right away," said Professor Evariste. "Rose, James, I'll walk you back to the common room."

Rose kept her head down until they were out of McGonagall's office.

"I despise making lists," said Professor Evariste lightly. "Ah, well, what can I do?"

They ascended the main stairs, passing the occasional teacher. At one point, a snowy owl flew past them, letter in its beak.

"That's Flitwick's owl," groaned Evariste. "I'm going to be the last one to get my list in, I know it."

"Maybe no one else will be missing," said Rose supportively.

When they arrived to the seventh floor, they found Louis arguing with the Fat Lady.

"I was over at Ravenclaw Tower with Arianna!" he cried, throwing his arms in the air angrily. "They let her in just fine."

"What's the problem here?" asked Professor Evariste.

Louis spun, then, upon seeing who had appeared, sighed with relief. "Thank goodness," he said. "I missed lunch, and now the Fat Lady won't let me in!"

"Where were you?" asked James.

Cocking a grin, Louis said, "Ah, here and there with Arianna. They let her back into her common room, then I headed over here."

"I'll bring you in," said Professor Evariste. "Let's just hope I have the last of them."

In fact, Rose, James, and Louis were the last ones to arrive. The rest of the Gryffindors were gathered in the common room, hoping Professor Evariste could provide some answers.

"Where were you?" hissed Albus as Rose made her way over to him.

"Later," replied Rose.

Dominique approached Professor Evariste with a long skein of parchment. "I checked in," she said, "and everyone is here besides the ones you brought. Some went up to their dormitories, but they're all here."

"You three were very nearly not," said Albus lowly. "Really, where were you? And what's with us being locked in?"

"We all need to talk," said Rose. "Can we go up to your dormitory?"

"I think Liam's in there," said Albus, "but James' should be free."

They tugged on James' sleeve and told him to follow them. When they opened the door to the third year boys' dormitory, they found Lysander sitting on his bed.

"Well, isn't this a happy reunion?" said Lysander, one brow raised. "Do we get any sort of explanation, or is this a purely social visit?"

Rose sat cross-legged on one of the beds. "One of the dragons got free," she said bluntly. "They think a student tampered with them somehow."

Lysander paused, then closed his book. "You never cease to surprise me," he said. "By the by, why were you so late? Dominique panicked when she couldn't find you two. Did Louis ever show up?"

Rose recounted her afternoon from the end of the lesson straight through the present.

"Only you would skip lunch to go to the kitchens," said Albus, rolling his eyes at his brother. "Do you know how little sense that makes?"

James opened his mouth to form a retort, but Professor McGonagall's voice cut him off.

"Students are now free to exit their common rooms," she said, her words ringing up through Gryffindor Tower. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Over the next few days, the story of the dragon circulated through the school. Some of it was even true, though Rose was particularly impressed by one first year swearing to his friends that it had been he on Maria's dragon. It seemed like only Rose and her friends knew the full story. They kept it to themselves; hearing others twist the truth was far more interesting.

No announcements about the dragons were made. Saturday arrived without any official word about the continuation of riding lessons. Rose decided to head down to the edge of the forest in hopes of a lesson being prepared.

It was clear when she arrived that there would be no lesson that day. Neither Rodolfo nor Giovanni were there. In fact, the only Rider present was Marco Falicci. He was bent over a blazing fire. Rose's eyes widened—both of his hands were completely immersed in the flames.

"Excuse me," she said tentatively. "The flames—your hands—I mean—"

Marco looked up, surprised. He drew his hands out of the fire. Rose saw that he was holding a glass figure in the shape of a dragon in one gloved hand.

"Hello," he said. His voice was soft and gentle, as was his gaze. "There are no lessons today, I'm afraid. They have been moved to next weekend."

"What are you doing?" asked Rose, her eyes locked on the small glass dragon.

Marco looked at the dragon fondly. "I am a glassblower," he said. "I make these figures and sell them as we travel. Would you like to see it?"

Rose sat on the tree stump next to him as he pulled out a soft silk bag.

"Be careful," he said as he handed her the glass dragon. "They're very fragile."

The dragon fit in the palm of Rose's hand. It was tinted blue and reminded Rose of the dragon that had broken free earlier in the week.

"It's amazing," she breathed, stroking the glass scales of the dragon's belly. "How do you make them so beautiful?"

"That one isn't even enchanted yet," said Marco. "This is how they really work."

He took out his wand and tapped the blue dragon lightly on the head.

The dragon took to the air instantly. Beating its wings eagerly, it began to circle above Rose. She tilted her head back to watch it, completely awed.

"Wow," she said softly. "It's beautiful!"

"Thank you," said Marco earnestly. "I find glassblowing to be calming. Something to do without my magic."

That surprised Rose. "You make these without magic?" she said, certain she must have misunderstood.

But Marco nodded. "I enchant them to fly," he said, "but the glassblowing, I do myself."

"Wow," repeated Rose. "I could never…wow."

Marco smiled, and the expression softened the harsh lines of his face. "Would you like to try?" he asked.

"Me?" exclaimed Rose. "Oh, no, I could never—I mean, all I—me?"

"You wouldn't be making a dragon, of course," amended Marco. "When I was young, I began by making small glass balls."

He drew a glass ball from the pocket of his jacket. It was no bigger than Rose's finger, but it sparkled luminescently in the morning's sun.

"That's beautiful too," said Rose. "But how do you put your hands in the fire like that?"

"It's magical fire," explained Marco. "It will soften the glass, but it will not burn me. You could stick a hand in right now, and it would emerge as it is. Undamaged."

Rose hesitated. She could feel the heat radiating from the flames from where she sat. Was it true, that the fire would not burn her? Then she remembered her own fires, the ones that would provide heat in the rain or the snow, but would not- could not—burn. Wasn't this the same? Before she could hesitate another moment or change her mind, Rose stuck her hand into the flames.

Instantly, the bite of the cool November air disappeared. Rose's hand was warm, as if she held a freshly-baked muffin or cake. The flames tickled at her hand, but as Marco had promised, they did not burn.

"You are very brave," remarked Marco as Rose drew her hand out of the fire. "Most students I have met would not have stuck their hand in the fire, with only my word to say it would not burn."

Rose sat back on the tree stump, taking the praise with a smile. "Can I...?" She trailed off, unable to finish her question.

"Can I teach you to craft like this?" said Marco sagely. "Is that what you meant to ask?"

Rose was actually trying to ask him if she could watch him work, but found herself unable to correct his assumption. Her eyes returned to the tiny blue dragon whirling around in circles above her head, its delicate wings catching the sunlight. And she found herself nodding.

"I would be delighted to."

Marco undid the clasp on the bag sitting next to him. From it, he drew what resembled two long straws.

"These are what you use to blow air into the glass," he explained, setting them aside. "I'll show you how to make an orb, like the ones you use in your classes."

Rose watched as Marco selected a bit of shattered glass from his bag. She didn't want to tell him that she was only in her second year and that she hadn't begun to study Divination. Once he had chosen a piece of glass, he held it in the fire. It began to twist and morph as Marco applied pressure to it.

"You'll want to get it into a roughly round shape before you begin to blow," he instructed. "Now, we insert one of the tubes."

He chose a thin tube and stuck the tip of it into the marble-sized ball of glass.

"Now watch carefully," he told Rose. "I won't be able to talk you through this part. Try to see what I'm doing through the flames."

Marco put his lips to the end of the tube and began taking slow, even breaths through his nose. He exhaled through his mouth, sending air down the tube and into the orb. The glass ball began to expand. With every breath Marco took, it grew larger and larger.

Rose squinted, trying to see exactly what was happening. Marco appeared to be spinning the orb with his fingers, smoothing out uneven spots with a careful, ginger touch. Pretty soon, the ball was as large as Rose's fist. When Marco drew it out of the flames, she could see that the light pink orb was perfectly smooth and round.

"Wow," breathed Rose. "That's amazing."

"It takes years of practice," said Marco, his face smooth and serene. "This has taken the place of Riding for me."

"Did you—did you used to ride?" asked Rose gingerly. "I mean… You've never taught a lesson or anything."

Marco exhaled deeply before responding. "I used to ride," he said slowly, "but due to injury, I decided my career as a Rider was at its end."

"Your leg," noted Rose.

"You noticed," said Marco. "Yes. I lost full use of my leg in an… accident."

"But you stayed with the Riders," Rose pointed out.

"They were—they are—my family." Marco's gaze was serious. "My injury does not change that. Our parents raised us together, raised us with their dream, which we saw come to fruition. We will all live together until we all, in our own turn, pass on."

Rose didn't know what to say in response to that. Marco remained silent for a moment longer, then chuckled.

"Come, young Rosaline," he said, "it is your turn to try."

Rose found a bubble of panic welling up in her chest. She tried to speak but found herself unable. Her eyes flickered from the enchanted fire to the freshly-blown orb and then up to Marco's face.

Marco laughed quietly. "Do not fret, Rosaline," he said. "You do not have to try it now. I'm not going anywhere."

"Maybe I'll try it some other time," she said, relieved. Sometime after she found time to read up on the matter.

Riding lessons resumed a week later. No mention was made of the previous Saturday's event—none of the Riders said anything about it, and the dwindling number of students followed suit.

Maria took over lessons and began to teach about riding decorum. It was more interesting than the anatomy lessons, but Maria was also a less congenial teacher than Giovanni and Rodolfo had been.

"As trained Riders, we ride bareback," said Maria curtly. "If any of you make it onto a dragon, you will ride in a specially-crafted saddle. No exceptions."

No exceptions came to be a popular term during Riding lessons. There were no exceptions to many things—the saddle rule was only the beginning.

"It seems like an awful lot of work to me," said Scorpius after one lesson. He had missed the anatomy section, but the Riders had not seemed to mind him showing up for the more interesting pieces. "How do you manage?"

"It's not that difficult," demurred Rose. "I focus on my schoolwork during the week. Friday night, I review my Riding notes. I do weekend assignments Saturday morning before the lessons. Then it's Riding until lunch. That leaves the rest of the day free to do whatever I want."

Scorpius shook his head. "Do you sleep?" he asked wonderingly. "I barely keep my marks up with Quidditch once or twice a week."

Rose was secretly glad that someone appreciated the work she was going through. "It's not too bad," she lied. "You just need the proper motivation." She was tempted to mention that the way she balanced her schedule left her a few extra hours a week during which she could read for leisure. Somehow, she didn't think that Scorpius would appreciate how relaxing it was for her.

"Are you at least taking a break for the holidays?" asked Scorpius.

"I'm going home for the holidays," said Rose. "It'll be a lot of watching my cousins play Quidditch with each other. Unless there's a blizzard," she added thoughtfully. There had been a two-day span a few years ago where the weather was too bad for anyone to fly. Their parents had kept everyone indoors. At the end of the storm, everyone realized that it was a much better plan to let the cousins use up their energy outside, where there were fewer things to break.

Scorpius sighed, his mouth twisting almost angrily. "I'm staying at school," he said bitterly. "My parents are going to visit relatives. Again."

"Can't you go with them?" asked Rose. "They're your relatives too, right?"

Rose though she heard him mutter, "Barely," but she could not be sure.

"It's not that simple," he said, "alright? I'll just stay here." He kicked a rock down the path.

Rose made up her mind in an instant. "No, you won't," she said, ignoring his glowering. "You can come spend Christmas with me!"

Scorpius stared at her blankly.

"C'mon, it'll be fun!" insisted Rose. "You'll see. You can hang out with Albus and I, and there's plenty of room to fly."

"I don't think I—"

"Nope," said Rose quickly. "I will not take no for an answer. I'll go send an owl to Mum now."

Scorpius followed her as she headed for the Owlery. "That's nice of you, really," he said tightly, "but I doubt—I mean, I'd love to, but my parents—"

"Ask your mum for permission," said Rose. "Or better yet, just tell them that you're going to be staying with some friends. You don't have to say it's Al and I."

All of Scorpius' protestations fell on deaf ears. Rose sent a quickly-jotted note to her mother, then set off to tell Albus.

"Sounds more like you forced him than anything," observed Albus, putting away his Astronomy work. He had opted out of the Riding lessons for good, needing to focus on his academic work when not practicing for the next Quidditch match. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Rose glared at him. "It's a great idea!" she cried, frustrated that neither of the boys understood. "You should've seen him talking about having to stay here over Christmas break. We had fun last year because of the ball, but we had each other. Scorpius would be all alone."

"You're such a sap," sighed Albus. "Fine, but if this backfires, don't expect me to be sympathetic."

Hermione's response came the next morning during breakfast. Rose locked eyes with Scorpius as the owl landed. He was glaring at her from across the room.

Rosie, the letter read.

Has Scorpius' family agreed to this? I'll talk to your father tonight, but as long as his parents say yes, then we will too. I think it's wonderful that you are making friends in other houses, regardless of the complications.

Still no sign of Selena. We should talk about going to Diagon Alley after Christmas and getting you another owl. I don't like the ones from the school; they always try to nip at my quill.

Can't wait to see you!

Love,

Mum