A/N: I own nothing. Thanks to stella8h8chang for looking this chapter over for me, and thank you to all the reviewers and readers who have been faithfully tracking and following this story. I'm still getting around to responding to people from the last update, but I really wanted to let y'all know that your feedback is really appreciated!

Lyrics are from "Nobody Does it Better". Music by Marvin Hamlisch and lyrics by Carole Bayer Sager. From the movie "The Spy Who Loved Me" and sung by Carly Simon. Yes, I'm obsessed with James Bond music, why do you ask?


Chapter 15: Honor Among Snakes

There had been nary a word regarding the status of Hogwarts as the summer holiday entered its final weeks.

Not that either Ginny or Daphne even realized just how quickly time was passing. So caught up in the writing, assembling, and duplicating of their very first pamphlet for the other students, as well as other responsibilities, they never realized that they were already halfway through August.

This day, however, Ginny and Daphne were sitting at the table in the Burrow's dining room. Her mum was in the kitchen, fixing enough food for a small army. Ginny was writing in her diary, and Daphne was finishing off another letter Michael Corner. . . .

Ginny's head perked up; she could hear Daphne humming and singing something under her breath—

"I wasn't lookin', but somehow you found me."

Ginny stared at her; it was the first time she had heard Daphne singing anything.

"There's some kind of magic inside you. That keeps me from runnin', but just keeps it comin'—"

She wasn't sure if it was the song that Daphne was singing or Daphne's surprisingly pleasant voice, but both sounded quite nice.

"—Nobody does it half as good as you . . . baby, you're the best!"

"Excuse me?"

Daphne jumped up, clearly startled. "Oh! Er . . . sorry."

"No, no . . . it's okay. Just didn't know what you were singing."

The Slytherin squinted at her parchment. "I'm just . . . I'm trying to write something to Michael in this letter, and I was trying to remember some lyrics to this Muggle ballad—"

"Well, the little bit I heard was really pretty. Didn't know you could sing."

"I can't really. I'll leave that up to him." Daphne pointed at the parchment.

"So," Ginny started, "can I ask what song it was that you were trying to write down?"

Daphne blushed. "It's this song, 'Nobody Does it Better'. It's from a Muggle action movie — a really famous one."

Ginny cocked an eyebrow.

"James Bond." Daphne chuckled. "Elvira Proctor, my foster mother, was just in love with the fellow who played him for a few movies in the seventies and eighties. Roger Moore." Daphne snorted and rolled her eyes. "Personally, I'm a Sean Connery girl. Dashingest bloke I've ever laid eyes on!"

Ginny had no idea what Daphne was talking about, but she couldn't help but laugh at Daphne's rather dreamy expression. "How're the letters to Michael going?"

Daphne was looking hers over. "Actually, they're loads of fun to write." Setting down the parchment, she looked over to Ginny. "You know what we do in them?"

Ginny tried to suppress a grimace. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to know.

(He's my ex-boyfriend, after all! And I really don't want to hear about any bizarre "owl-post sex"—)

"We try to use as many Muggle and magical songs and lyrics that we can to write out what we want to say to each other." Daphne grinned in a sneaky manner. "It's just . . . I dunno. Kinda sticks it to the Ministry doesn't it? And they won't be the wiser, because they're not familiar with Muggle music." She shrugged. "Also, Michael and I can make sure that we're talking to the other person, y'know? I'll know it's him because he makes sure to toss in at least five sentences from various Led Zeppelin songs, and he'll know it's me because I'm constantly throwing in the Beatles and wizarding pop music!"

"That's a really good idea, Daphne." Ginny nodded her approval.

Daphne flipped her parchment and pointed at a number at the top corner. "This is where we put our song and lyric count. It's become a contest between us, since that letter from the fourth of August. He wrote out lyrics to one song, and then I responded with two songs. He came back with four. Now with each letter, we're trying to outdo the other person."

Ginny laughed and looked at the number on top of Daphne's note. "You've got twenty-five different songs and lyrics in your letter?"

Daphne nodded. "Oh, believe me . . . I'm winning this sucker!"

"What's the prize?" Ginny asked, smirking.

Daphne blushed, shrugged and mumbled awkwardly. She returned to her parchment to put the finishing touches on the letter.

A clanking sound made Ginny turn around.

"Mum? Do you need help?"

"No, dear . . . I'm fine. You and Daphne just continue chatting!"

Ginny watched her mum whirl about the kitchen, stirring multiple pots and pans and pulling out pans of bread. Molly gathered some fruits and vegetables and she Levitated the parcels next to the Burrow's front door.

Ginny knew exactly what her mum was doing. "So, where to today?"

"I think it's 'Griffin' today, dear." Molly paused in mid-stir. "Griffin" was the nickname of one of the seven safe-houses currently being used to shelter numerous wizarding families.

For the past couple of weeks, Molly had been working with a number of other witches and wizards sympathetic to the Order to feed and care for the refugees. Fred, George and Bill and Fleur, both of whom had given up their honeymoon to give aid, assisted with transportation of the displaced. It had been slow going, but they were managing to get the word out little by little that there were places where Muggle-borns could go where they would be safe.

Thus, a small dribble of Muggle-borns and other witches and wizards started turning into a steady stream. Small amounts certainly, but it was encouraging for those who gave their time and energy to the cause.

However, despite the ever-increasing number of volunteers who came to help, it felt like there simply weren't ever enough hands.

"Will the both of you be able to help today?"

Ginny looked at Daphne, and both girls turned toward Molly with disbelieving expressions. "Of course."

Daphne shrugged. "It's not like we've got plans today or anything."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "The two of you have been awfully busy lately. If I didn't know better," she emphasized each word with a jab of her wooden spoon, "I'd say you two were planning on opening your own joke shop."

Ginny flung her hands into the air. "We'll leave the pranks to Fred and George. Daphne and I have just been . . ." her voice faded a bit, and she looked over at Daphne, who was frantically trying to come up with a believable excuse for their current labors.

However, all of that was interrupted by the arrival of Arthur Weasley's head, looking harried and grim, in the fireplace.

"Arthur?" Molly asked, stumbling over a bit of rubbish her magicked broom hadn't yet managed to sweep up.

"Molly, dear, are you almost ready to go to 'our special place'?"

Molly nodded. That phrase was Molly and Arthur's special signal, indicating that she had half-an-hour to pack up all necessities and edibles before traveling the route from Auntie Muriel's home and then to the designated safe-house of the day.

She turned around to the heart of the kitchen, and gave a complicated wave of her wand. Immediately, the stove's flames increased, the spoons stirring the pots and flipping the food in pans sped up, and bread flew out of the oven into portable boxes that stacked themselves on their own.

"I'll be ready to leave in fifteen minutes, dear."

Arthur grinned at his wife, but it was a grin tinged with melancholy. "Molly, you look so tired—"

"I already said I'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

"Molly, why don't you rest? I can get Fleur to help—"

"Arthur," she responded sharply, "I'll be fine!"

Arthur sighed. "Ginny, Daphne. You girls should come here. I've got a little information that will affect you."

They scurried over to the fireplace and knelt so they were even with Arthur's head. Molly, divided her attention between the cooking and her husband.

"Dad . . . is there something wrong?" Ginny asked hurriedly. "Is this . . . did something come up about Harry—?"

Arthur shook his head. "It's got nothing to do with Harry, dear. It's about Hogwarts, about your term starting in a few days."

Ginny and Daphne looked at each other, their faces mirroring each other's worry.

Arthur continued. "There have been rumors about who the new Headmaster will be." His face fell even more. "It won't be Professors McGonagall or Flitwick."

"But McGonagall's the most senior — she's the current Acting Headmaster, for Circe's sake!" Daphne exclaimed.

Arthur nodded. "I agree. But they're out of contention due to the coup. Count out Professor Sprout, as well."

Ginny thought for a moment. "What about Slughorn? He used to run Slytherin House. He'd be a logical replacement."

Arthur shut his eyes. "If only the rumors were about him. No, Slughorn would be preferable to the alternative."

The color drained from Ginny and Daphne's faces as they sought reassurance that their suspicions were wrong. "It's not Malfoy, is it?" "Or either of the Lestranges?" "The Carrows?!" they exclaimed simultaneously.

"No, no." Arthur shook his head. "The rumors are that Severus Snape is to take over Headmaster duties upon your return to school."

Ginny and Daphne gasped. It was the answer they had been dreading. There was a loud clattering of metal and wood as Molly dropped whatever she had been doing and ran over to the fireplace.

"Arthur! You can't be serious!" Molly's voice was shaking, filled with anger. "We can't send Ginny and Daphne back to Hogwarts—"

"But we have to, Molly!" Arthur let out a breath. "I don't like it at all, but it's the law now. Ministry Decree No. 1938 makes it compulsory for all young witches and wizards to attend Hogwarts; they're even forcing of-age witches and wizards who have not yet taken their N.E.W.T.s to finish their final year."

Arthur could only shake his head. "But dear, even without the decree, if too many families refuse to send their kids back to Hogwarts, we risk both the wrath of the Ministry and letting that school and the Order members working there fall completely to the Death Eaters, to You – Know – Who."

"Mum, Dad's right," Ginny said. "If he is appointed Headmaster, he'll be in a position of power to harm the students or to influence them. We can't let that happen!"

Ginny looked over to Daphne, who had remained quiet during the exchange. Her face was pale, and Ginny was reminded of Bill and Fleur's wedding night, when the Death Eaters invaded the Burrow to search for Harry, Ron and Hermione and Daphne had made herself sick from pandering to Runcorn's lewd interrogatories.

"Daphne?"

She shook her head. "W-why? Why?" she asked the questions in a soft voice. "Snape's a murderer. He killed someone . . . he killed Dumbledore!" Daphne's voice was increasing in volume, and Ginny reached out to steady her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Why?! Why is he being rewarded for killing someone—"

Daphne's voice halted, and a wet sob punctuated the end of her sentence. Daphne shot up into the air, and ran upstairs to Percy's bedroom.

Ginny chased after her, barely missing the door being shut in fury. She didn't bother knocking, but she opened the door slowly.

"Daphne?" she asked carefully.

She was sitting on the bed, hunched over, her shoulders shaking.

"Daphne."

"W-wh-why is he coming b-back?" Daphne gasped after each word. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks and Ginny's heart seized up in her chest.

"It's still a rumor." Ginny put a hand on her back and another on Daphne's hand, which lay limp on the bed.

The Slytherin girl rocked back and forth, crying and sobbing and gasping for air. After a few moments, Daphne sniffled and wiped at her nose and face with her hand.

"D-Dum-Dumbledore said I was l-l-like Snape once."

Ginny sucked in a breath, and she felt a surge of sympathy for the girl. "You're . . . you aren't though. Dumbledore was wrong about that," she said inelegantly.

Daphne snorted, making a wet sound as it combined with her tears. "Dumbledore once said — oh! what was it? — that I could 'be quite charming' like Snape, and that I had another side to me, one that 'belied my external charms'." She laughed mirthlessly, but with a cold, harsh bitterness that made Ginny cringe. Her laugh subsided, and she looked off into the distance. "How could Dumbledore've been so wrong?" She shook her head. "He was so wrong about so many, many things. And he died . . . he died because of Snape. And if he thinks I'm like Snape . . . "

"B-but if he could be wrong about Snape, he could be wrong a-about you," said Ginny, attempting to be the voice of reason. But she quickly realized Daphne wasn't really talking to her; it seemed as if the Slytherin was retreating into her own mind.

She had to get her to snap out of it somehow.

"Daphne, um . . . we were going to go with Mum to the safe-house. If you want to stay here, I'll stay with you—"

She sniffled once again, and rubbed her nose with her sleeve. Shaking her head, she continued to sniffle as she got up, swallowed, and started looking around the room. "I'll . . . I'll go with you, Ginny," she said in a muffled, wet voice. "Lemme just find my robes—"

Ginny was already handing them over to her.

Daphne paused and looked down at Ginny's outstretched hand. She raised her head and met Ginny's eyes.

"It's going to be all right, Daphne. I'm here for you, and the rest of my family's here for you."

The Slytherin slowly reached out and took the robe from Ginny, putting it on gingerly. Ginny could hear her continuing to sniffle.

"Do you need a moment?"

Daphne shook her head. "Just let me splash some water on my face and I'll be downstairs in a few seconds." And before waiting for any answer, Daphne walked out of the room and towards the bathroom.

Ginny hoped and prayed, as she made her way downstairs toward her anxious mother, that all Daphne needed right now was a short distraction from the disturbing revelations of the afternoon.


The next couple of days seemed to have calmed down at the Burrow. Daphne and Ginny scrambled against a rapidly approaching deadline; they wanted to have the pamphlets ready to go by the first Friday of the term, which was nine days away. Everything was almost fully assembled, and Luna had settled on a Concealment Charm that closely resembled the charm used on the Marauder's Map.

Since this was now an illegal activity, due to Ministry Decree No. 1940: Criminalizing Sedition and Libel in Opposition to the Ruling Government and Its Allies, the teenagers all agreed that a simple-to-memorize phrase should be used to activate the parchment. Thus, with a bit of brainstorming over a couple of hours on the day before they were to get their Hogwarts letters, Luna finally came upon the winning choice:

"I Solemnly Swear to Join the Rebellion."

"Ha! This is truly wicked!" Daphne sighed and smiled as she perused the final draft of the newsletter.

"I did think that 'I Solemnly Swear that I Just Saw a Nargle' would be a much happier and nicer choice, but, well, we are rebelling, aren't we?" Luna's eyes swept between Ginny and Daphne. "So, asking the students that we show these parchments to to rebel with us is much more appropriate. Plus," she sighed, "Nargles are so painfully shy, and no other students have seen them, or even know that they exist! So they won't be aware of Nargles to remember that as part of the activation phrase."

"Er, yes . . . well," Daphne masked her baffled expression by coughing awkwardly. "So, what do we want to call it?"

Ginny gestured toward Daphne. "This was your idea. I say the honor of naming it should go to you."

"Me?"

Luna nodded in agreement. "Why yes! It's your idea. It's only fitting that you call it whatever you want."

Daphne let out a breath. For her, this finally felt real. The past few weeks, she had put pen to paper and crafted the first major article, which outlined, in a brutal, sarcastic, yet funny, fashion, the major faults found in Healer Stallsworth's research. So big was this project that the three girls had agreed to break it up over a series of five pamphlets.

Ginny had contributed a very personal and moving piece anonymously as well: an article detailing her emotions and her fears as she watched her family and friends go off into battle. She had been inspired by a conversation with Tonks about war and how it could change people.

Presently, Daphne sat in Luna's bedroom with the other two girls. She thought about all possible titles. Daphne felt that the pamphlets needed something catchy . . . a title that grabbed the reader's attention and refused to let go. She thought back to when she lived at Miss Proctor's house, and the taglines for television shows and radio programs that had caught her attention—

Seized by a sudden burst of inspiration, Daphne jumped up out of her seat. She found a blank parchment, a quill and an ink bottle. Dipping the tip of the quill into the ink, she began writing. A flurry of words appeared from the tip.

She wrote non-stop for at least the next half-hour. Finally, dotting a period on her final idea, Daphne held up the parchment and looked over the various title iterations she had thought up. Smiling, she handed the parchment to Ginny and Luna, who immediately buried their faces in it.

Both girls read through to the end while Daphne waited. Almost simultaneously, Luna and Ginny looked up at each other.

"The last one?" they both asked each other at the same time.

The two girls nodded and smiled together. "The last one."

Daphne strode toward them. "That one's all right then?"

"It's perfect, Daphne."

Ginny gave her a thumbs-up.

With her smile growing more and more determined by the second, Daphne Levitated the newsletter in front of her face. As Ginny and Luna stood directly behind her, Daphne swirled her wand, watching as writing appeared in the space at the very top of the pamphlet—

"THE SEDITION ACT: Fighting the Ministry One Word at a Time!"


The Saturday before the start of term found the Weasleys and Daphne sitting around the table, eating their breakfast in relative calm. All seemed to have come to terms with the inevitable: Severus Snape could very well be the new Headmaster at Hogwarts.

"We'll just have to see how it works out," Molly said as lightly as she could as she scooped two eggs, over-easy, onto Daphne's plate.

Daphne nodded absent-mindedly. She was preoccupied with other matters, namely a letter she had just received from Michael Corner. She had lost track of exactly how many letters each of them had written — it was easily over ten, possibly closer to twenty. But with each letter came the same reaction from Daphne: she'd pour over it at least twice, giggling and counting each song lyric or name that would pop up, muttering that he was cheating by counting a lyric twice, but smiling — always smiling — as she did so.

Nothing short of the earth exploding could drag her away from his missives.

So engrossed was she in his current correspondence, Daphne had been blissfully ignoring Ginny's teasing about her relationship with Michael and she had turned a deaf ear to any discussion about Snape as Headmaster.

The only thing that could break her concentration was a very persistent poking upon her head. Flicking at it as if it were a pesky fly, she looked up, a very disgruntled expression pasted on her face.

It was Ginny, poking at her with the corner of her Hogwarts envelope.

"Oi!" Ginny exclaimed with a smirk as she continued to jab Daphne. "Oioioi!"

"You're so mature, Weasley."

"Our letters are here." Ginny chucked Daphne's right into her face. For some reason, hers felt heavier than it had in past years. She shrugged to herself.

(Maybe it's an extra-long book list?)

"Ahhh," Daphne groaned. "I bloody forgot — N.E.W.T.s!"

"I wondered why your letter felt so heavy. Think they actually sent you your textbooks?" Ginny said, batting her eyes and smirking.

Daphne glared at Ginny, who was already tearing into her letter. As if she were moving in quicksand, Daphne stuck her finger in the corner of the envelope, and pulled it towards her.

"Holy—! I got Quidditch Captain!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Ginny!" Molly gave her a squeeze.

"Excellent job, sweetheart," Arthur said, putting aside his newspaper.

"Congrats to you." Daphne had just opened up her envelope, but she was smiling.

"Cheers!" Ginny held up her glass of orange juice to toast her new success.

Daphne followed suit, and the envelope fell out of her hand.

She heard the loud CLANK! of something hard hitting her plate.

Both girls, and Molly and Arthur, stopped in mid-celebration to look at the object that had just tumbled out of the envelope.

There, smack dab into Daphne's runny egg yolks, was a badge.

A silver and green badge.

Above the silver snake that represented Slytherin House were two words: "Head Girl".

Daphne felt her stomach being sucked out of her body. She realized she had been sitting for the past two minutes, staring, open-mouthed, at the object.

"H-Head Guh- . . . girl?" she stammered.

Ginny whistled.

"Oh my!" Molly exclaimed, after a few moments. "Well, I-I do think that, um," Molly put a hand on her shoulder. "I do think this deserves congratulations, Daphne." It was clear Molly was forcing the brightness into her voice; Daphne could only shake her head very slowly.

Molly nudged Arthur, who was staring intensely at the badge, almost as if transfixed by it as a spell.

"You don't think it's a trap, do you?" Daphne asked the table. Her voice was frantic and confused.

"Would you like me to check it out for you?" Arthur asked after a few moments. Daphne nodded.

After a few flicks and incantations, Arthur sat back and gave her a nod. "It checks out Daphne. It's no joke. It's no trap. You are the Head Girl this year." And Arthur smiled at her. It didn't quite reach his eyes.

Daphne could only continue to stare at the badge, mute and confused.

Molly turned to her husband and Ginny, giving them both a worried look. "Daphne, did you read your letter?" Molly asked.

Daphne shook her head. Bit by bit, she pulled the letter out of the now fully-opened envelope, and unfolded it. She could feel her eyes very nearly popping out of her skull, as she read the fateful lines—

Dear Miss Greengrass,

It is my pleasure, in this my first year as Headmaster of Hogwarts, to award to you the honor of Head Girl of Hogwarts. As Head Girl, you will be responsible for the following:

1.) Overseeing the duties of the prefects and meeting with them once a week,

2.) Organizing social events during the fall, winter, and spring terms,

3.) Assisting the teachers with maintaining order among the student body,

4.) Attending weekly meetings in my office.

Please be advised: this is a new requirement that I have decided to implement this year. I will require the presence of both yourself and the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, in my office, every Friday night, promptly after the conclusion of dinner, to discuss matters related to the school's upkeep and student body, rule enforcement, and issues that we must resolve in the upcoming weeks and in the subsequent terms—

Her eyes scanned down to the bottom of the letter. She knew whose name she would find, signed at the bottom of the letter. He had hand-picked her for the Head Girl position, out of the blue, with no prior prefect position under her belt.

(It's not unheard of, Greengrass.)

(But . . . why?)

(Oh, I think you know!)

And at the bottom of the page, there it was, in its full and complete glory—

Sincerely,

Severus Snape

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Wait. Who did you say was Head Boy?"

Looking up, Daphne realized she had been reading most of the letter out loud, stopping only when she had gotten to Malfoy's name. She hadn't even realized whose name she had read until Ginny's question interrupted her silent stream of thought.

Quickly, her eyes moved back up to the passage, and this time, she thought her eyes were actually going to explode.

"D-Dr-Draco? Draco Malfoy?! DRACO MALFOY?" Daphne slammed her hands and the letter on the table. "He's Head Boy?! I'm Head Girl and he's Head Boy?!" Daphne fell forward, groaning. She banged her head on the table, and didn't stop banging her head on the table, even after five times.

"Daphne. Daphne!" Arthur reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. She stopped hitting herself on the table and looked up at him.

"It's going to be all right, Daphne."

She could only stare at him, shaking her head vigorously. "No!" Daphne said brusquely. "It's not going to be all right." She roughly waved the letter. "Bloody Snape did this so he can . . . I don't know! Spy on us or . . . or try to get me to turn on you, or get information about you, or Harry, or the Order!" Daphne shoved her chair back, and stood up so fast, she knocked over the chair. Grabbing the badge, she looked at it with a fiery resolve, shaking it and talking to herself. "There's only one thing to do about this."

And she shot out of the Burrow.

The other Weasleys were quick on her heels. Daphne knew they were, but she had to get to the pond out behind the Weasleys' back yard. She had to get rid of this thing, this evil, horrible thing!

If it had been Dumbledore, or Sprout, or Flitwick, or McGonagall . . . even Slughorn, it would've been better. It would've meant something.

It would've felt like she had actually earned it and deserved it.

As it was, Snape giving her this was wrong. It could only have meant to serve some evil purpose. She knew that much.

She didn't need or want to know the exact reason. All she wanted to do at this moment was chuck it into the water and be done with it.

"Daphne! Wait!"

Daphne had stopped just at the edge of the pond, and her arm was cocked back, ready to let the horrible Head Girl badge fly into the icy depths, never to be seen again.

"What?" she asked, breathing hard and furiously.

"Okay, think about this, willya."

Daphne turned around and saw Molly, Arthur and Ginny all standing behind her. Ginny kept looking at her and she stepped forward to speak to her.

"There's not really much to think about. I get rid of this, and send Snape a nice little note telling him, 'Thank you but shove it up your arse, nonetheless'."

Daphne ignored Molly's scolding for her language. Ginny shook her head, dismissing Daphne's statement.

"What if you could use this to our advantage?"

Daphne narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, to our advantage?"

"Think about it. It sounds like you're going to have a lot of access to Snape's office. I've gotta feeling that's going to come in handy this year."

That did make Daphne pause. She started lowering her arm, deep in thought.

"I will, won't I?"

Ginny nodded, slowly and deliberately.

"Wait just one minute, girls." Molly walked over to them. "You will not do anything to put yourselves in harm's way. Do not forget, Snape is a master manipulator and he's a murderer!"

"Mum, I'm only talking about emergencies, only if we need his office for anything." Ginny gave her mother as serious an expression as she could muster. Daphne knew it was for show, but Ginny's comments had gotten Daphne to think.

There was definite truth to the fact that now she was a insider. She would have the ability to get into Snape's office for practically any reason, if she requested it.

And putting up with weekly meetings with Snape and Draco Malfoy would be a small price to pay for such a benefit.

Biting her lip, Daphne slowly turned around to face Ginny head on.

"We'll have to be very careful, y'know that, right?"

Ginny nodded vigorously. "You're basically the top girl student at Hogwarts. You'll have the most clout and the most stature in the actual student body. You're going to be fairly visible now, too. This might be more helpful to you, especially if you have to do something under the radar. People might be less likely to think you're involved with," Ginny swirled her hand about, "anything that might pop up, either written or . . . otherwise."

Ginny gave her a subtle wink, and Daphne suppressed a smirk. She continued to look at the youngest Weasley and a smile grew on her face.

"Now, we've got something to say—"

Ginny and Daphne turned to face Arthur. He and Molly approached the two girls.

Arthur began talking first. "I do not want to hear either of you engaging in heroics, or putting yourselves in any unnecessary danger."

"If there is even a whiff of any perilous situations, or if anyone starts coming after you, you are to inform the other teachers immediately—"

"Start with McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout or Hagrid, I know Mum."

Molly continued, nonplussed. "And find Poppy Pomfrey straightaway—"

"If we're hurt or otherwise engaged in fisticuffs or wizard duels or fall victim to a particularly rough hex," Daphne finished. "Right, Molly?"

Molly set her mouth in a straight line, and looked at her husband with anxious eyes and a worried face. Arthur patted her on the back, and turned once again to the two girls.

"Be careful, this year. Our enemies are everywhere. Be very wary of the people you trust, and always, always be on alert."

"And contact us straightaway if you are in trouble."

"Mum," Ginny said, touching her mother's shoulders. "We'll be fine. We'll look after each other. There are adults at the school that we can trust and that we can turn to."

"Molly, I won't be afraid to ask for help." Daphne approached the older woman. "If I need any of you, I'll ask for you."

Daphne managed to smile for Molly. The two older Weasleys looked at the two girls, the worry still evident on their faces, but smiling all the same.