A/N: Sanguigenetics is my own concept: it is the study of the origins and genetic inheritance of magical blood properties. Hence, Sanguigeneticists study Sanguigenetics. I first mention this in my story, Daphne Greengrass and the 6th Year From Hell, chapter 26: Starting Over.

Much thanks to stella8h8chang for her invaluable comments, beta-read, and making sure I take care of Slughorn.


Chapter 16: The Conspiracy Express

"You make the absolute worst Head Girl I've ever seen!"

"Blaise, has anyone ever told you that your personality is like a heady stream of hag piss?"

"Only you, Greengrass. Only you."

Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass had just emerged onto Platform 9¾ . Daphne had been forced to listen as Blaise critiqued every single aspect of her new status as Hogwarts Head Girl. Her appearance, her speech, her personality, and, worst of all, her hair — nothing had been off-limits to the unofficial king of Slytherin House.

After the girls' Hogwarts letters had arrived, Daphne and Arthur had come up with the plan for Daphne to travel to King's Cross with Blaise in an attempt to minimize her relationship with the Weasleys. Daphne and Arthur had Flooed to Diagon Alley to pick up school books and other items. It was then that they had asked Blaise to accompany her the next day.

Daphne had arrived early at Blaise and Eddie's flat this morning just before they were to take off to Hogwarts. However, Daphne was seriously beginning to regret the plan as Blaise had answered the door in a spectacularly foul mood. Of course, it hadn't really helped that Daphne had kept inquiring whether she had interrupted anything between Blaise and Eddie — and had kept asking for details, if there were any.

Blaise dropped his trunk, as did Daphne. She took in the scene.

"Holy sh—"

Daphne's voice drifted off. She had never seen so many students waiting for the Hogwarts' Express. She sighed in exasperation. "Damn! Look at all these midgets . . ."

"I suppose this is what 'Ministry-required attendance' gets you."

She nodded at her traveling companion. "Well, I think my job just got harder." Daphne noticed, however, that the parents who were watching their children and seeing them off seemed to be on hyper-alert mode, looking around them and over their shoulders at least once every five minutes.

Even worse, there were several families that seemed to be missing one parent. Many of the younger children were huddled close to a single mother or father.

"Wait!" Daphne exclaimed suddenly, "Don't most of the older students get here by twenty-five 'til?"

Blaise checked his watch and nodded. "It's almost forty-five minutes before departure. The Express is going to be wretchedly crowded this trip."

Daphne was about to respond when she felt a tug on her robes. "Excuse me?" came a quiet, high-pitched voice to Daphne's right. There stood a young girl looking scared and timid. "Um, miss? You're the H-Head Girl, right?" she squeaked out nervously.

Daphne blinked. "Er . . . I'm, er, yeah. Yes, I am Head Girl."

"C-Could you tell me, well, I'm new. This is my first year, and I'm not quite sure . . . "

Several other children had gathered around Blaise, Daphne and this new girl. Blaise was trying to wave them off with a brusque, "No I'm not the effin' Head Boy! Talk to her!" Daphne tried to position herself so the group could see and hear her properly.

"That's the Head Girl?"

"Miss! We've got questions—"

"What House are you in?"

"What's going on at the school? Is it true about the new Headmaster?"

"Hold on!" Daphne's hands shot up in the air. She looked at their faces, a mix of worry, fear and impatience. "All right now. Let me just start with the first question. Yes, I'm the Head Girl. I'm in Slytherin House. The new Headmaster is Severus Snape. I've got no idea what's going on at the school."

"M-miss?" The girl who had approached Daphne initially started talking again. "M-my mum and dad are really worried. They h-hear things about what's been going on, that the school's been taken over by dangerous men and they're worried—"

"Whoa, whoa. Well," Daphne said, taking in a couple more deep breaths. She looked at this little girl and then glanced back up at the other students. "Okay, I can tell you all of you that I do know a lot of the, er. . . ." She thought for a moment.

(Maybe focus on the teachers, or Heads of Houses, that are affiliated with the Order for now?)

"McGonagall is tough," Daphne continued, "She's the Head of Gryffindor, but she's really fair and she can help you." She nodded and stressed the word, hoping her message would come across as intended. "There's also Flitwick and Sprout; Flitwick's Head of Ravenclaw and Sprout's for Hufflepuff. They're both really nice. Tough, but fair, and they're good people to talk to, regardless of whatever House you end up in."

"Who's Head of Slytherin?"

Daphne sucked in a breath. She wasn't sure whether or not Horace Slughorn could be trusted. On one hand, he was the Head of her own House, and she knew first-hand about people not trusting her based solely on the fact that she was in Slytherin. Plus, Arthur Weasley wasn't lying when he said that he preferred Slughorn being named Headmaster of Hogwarts rather than Severus Snape, which was something she most certainly agreed with. But on the other hand . . .

(That bastard ignored me all of last year! And I'm the second best Potions student too. Right after Hermione Granger!)

(Stupid half-blood Prince book of Harry's—)

"I think Slughorn's okay, too. Um, but stick to those three other professors."

"Hey . . . aren't you in Slytherin?" asked a boy with an expression that made Daphne think she was covered in dung. "How come you think we shouldn't trust him?" He crossed his arms and Daphne looked closer at him, thinking that he seemed familiar.

"You're not related to Zacharias Smith, are you?"

The boy narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm his cousin, Alfred."

"Figures," she mumbled out of earshot. "Okay, my mistake! Trust him, okay? Slughorn. But only those teachers that I just said."

She looked back down at the little girl who started this whole conversation.

"D-Do you know anything about the new Headmaster?"

Daphne swallowed. "I'll only say this. And all of you heed my words. Don't – crosshim. Don't talk to him. Don't approach him. If you have any problems, find the professors that I just mentioned—"

"McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Slughorn," piped up a boy from the back.

"Right. Also, go to the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey. Or go see Hagrid the gamekeeper. He's in a hut near the forest. Or come and find me. My name's Daphne Greengrass, all right?"

She watched as a number of them nodded and repeated her name.

"Okay! Now, say good-bye to your families and find a spot on the train. The Express will be filling up fast, so it'd be good to get a compartment early." And Daphne smiled, hoping she was reassuring them. They complied with her orders and returned to their families to start gathering their things.

"Pathetic!"

Daphne stood stock still.

(Great! Just effing great!)

She turned slowly to face the speaker. Blaise was already standing up, glaring at Hogwarts' newest Head Boy.

"Malfoy."

"Greengrass." His silvery eyes narrowed to skinny little slits.

Daphne walked forward. She stood very close to him and regarded the prick carefully. Malfoy looked just as bad as he had toward the end of the last year; even if he spoke with the same casual malice as before. But Daphne noticed there was something about his attitude that made it seem like he was holding back.

"Nice to see you, Head Boy," Daphne said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

Malfoy sneered at her. "Enjoy your summer with the Weasels? Suppose they had to pawn off one of their brood to feed you." His hand waved at the air above her head. "You reek of their poverty, you know."

Daphne just rolled her eyes. "Well, here I thought you might have changed over the summer. But you're still the same sleazy bastard that you've always been." She flicked at his badge. "I've got one of these now, Malfoy. I've got just as much pull as you do here at the school."

"Don't bet on that!" Malfoy leaned forward in a menacing manner. "They know all about you, Greengrass. Snape handpicked you just so he can get the goods on the most disgusting and traitorous pure-blood family that has ever existed!" He puffed out air through his nose and Daphne felt it on her face. "They know about you, and they can't wait to get their hands all over you."

Daphne swallowed and she felt her breathing increase. "If I didn't know better, Malfoy," she said, forcing her voice to stay steady, "I'd say you were trying to warn me."

That produced a very unexpected reaction from the Head Boy, who blanched immediately and pivoted sharply around. He walked back toward his own belongings without another word.

From her other side, Blaise whistled.

"Well, that was something!"

Daphne glared at him. "Thanks for all your help, Blaise."

He shrugged. "You had it under control."

She was just about to open her mouth, when she saw a very familiar face emerge from the platform barrier. Her heart thudded in her chest and she felt her stomach do several somersaults in a row.

Blaise rolled his eyes, and shoved her with his shoulder. "Go on . . . y'know you want to."

Daphne grinned and she started running, throwing herself into the open arms of—

"Michael!" she exclaimed, panting but laughing.

"Hey there, fair Miss Greengrass," Michael Corner said. Daphne grinned even wider, hearing the smile in his voice. They pulled apart, looking at each other as if they were the only two people in the whole world.

Somewhere, to the right of her, someone gave a very loud, very demanding cough to get their attentions.

"What am I? Troll dung?"

Daphne looked over at Terry Boot, who smirked at her.

"Terry Boot . . . er, Terry! Well, hi, uh . . .yourself." Daphne gave his hand a shake. She jerked her head over to a quiet, shaded corner on the platform. "Can I talk to the two of you for one sec?"

"Sure," Michael and Terry looked at each other. "We're just waiting on—"

As if on cue, the barrier rippled, and out popped Anthony Goldstein. He brushed off his robes, and smiled at his two friends, when his eyes moved downward, just below Michael.

"Er . . . Daphne Greengrass," Anthony said. He held his head back and looked at Daphne in an exceedingly haughty and arrogant manner.

Daphne rolled her eyes and gave another nod in resignation.

"Okay, the three of you . . . over here." She beckoned for them to follow her into the shady corner.

"What's going on?" Michael asked her.

"This is what's going on." She pulled on her robes and thrust her Head Girl badge into Michael's face.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed.

"Blimey! You're Head Girl?" Terry gaped in disbelief.

"I don't believe it!"

Daphne wanted to laugh at Anthony's shocked expression — it looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. "I know. I know."

"Snape picked you for this, didn't he?"

Daphne nodded. Michael's face fell, and suddenly, he started chewing on his lip and rubbing the back of his neck. He was growing increasingly tense.

"I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, Daphne."

"I know." She spoke in a measured voice.

"I mean, I wanna congratulate you about it, but this is—"

"Weird? Not to mention suspicious?"

Michael nodded. Daphne could see the worry in his eyes.

"Believe me, Michael, Arthur Weasley ran all sorts of spells and made sure it wasn't gonna go all wonky on me. It hasn't." Daphne stepped closer to him. "But I can't shake this feeling like Snape gave this to me with some ulterior motive in mind."

"Like what, do you think?"

Daphne shrugged. "Damned if I know. But, if this is for real, I plan to use this to our advantage."

Michael raised an eyebrow, and looked at her in a very smug, yet teasing manner. "When you say to our advantage—" Terry snorted at his friend.

Daphne smacked him on the arm. "I mean . . . look, I'll tell you later. Find Ginny and Luna and Neville on the train. We need you, okay?"

Michael nodded.

Daphne looked at Terry Boot. "You can join him too, all right?"

Terry shrugged and pointed at the Head Girl badge. "Sure! If Mike here doesn't want to use that to his 'advantage' . . . Ow!" Michael elbowed his friend in the guts.

Huffing at them, she then addressed Anthony Goldstein. "I don't really like you, you know?"

Anthony narrowed his eyes at her. "Can't say I think too much about you, Greengrass."

"Fine. Cleared that up. But you like them, right?" She thumbed toward Michael and Terry's direction.

Anthony nodded, still looking at Daphne suspiciously.

"You two trust him?" Daphne addressed the question to both Michael and Terry.

The boys nodded.

"He wouldn't do anything to turn either of you in, right?"

"Daphne, I've known and trusted Tony since first year. And Tony did a lot for both Terry and myself. Gave us both homes so our families could try to get to safety." Michael put his hands on her shoulders, and Daphne instantly relaxed. "He's like a brother to me. Terry too." The other boy nodded in agreement.

Anthony rolled his eyes but he colored just a little bit in his cheeks and he suppressed a grin. "Such a sap, Corner."

Michael smirked; he continued to talk to Daphne. "I can and will vouch for him. You don't have to like him, but you can trust him."

"All right, fine. I'll just let you know, the stuff we need help with is not quite . . ." She thought for a few moments.

"Legal?" Michael finished.

"Guess that's one way to put it. We do need help with it, though. And we wanted to hit as many original members of Dumbledore's Army as possible. So, are you in?"

The three boys nodded at her, and Daphne exhaled in relief.

"Great! Now," she said, voice filled with exasperation, "I've gotta start helping with loading and meet up with the Head Boy—"

"Oh, yeah. Who's Head Boy this year?"

"Greengrass!" came the all-too familiar voice, shouting her name with authority.

"Speak of the devil," she muttered, just as Malfoy emerged, a livid expression on his face.

"Malfoy?! Malfoy's Head Boy?" Michael whispered harshly. He looked both stunned and outraged. Terry grimaced.

Anthony hissed. "I may not like you, Greengrass, but I do feel for you."

"Er, thanks, I guess." Daphne headed toward the blond ferret. "I'll catch up with you." She looked to make sure Malfoy couldn't hear her. "Later." she whispered.

"Be careful, Daphne. I'll see you in a little while.

And she left, but she did allow herself one last look over her shoulder, catching Michael winking and giving her a sweet smile that left her feeling warm and content inside.


"We're still waiting for Daphne."

Ginny poked her head out into the corridor of the train. Half the trip was already over, and she had seen Daphne pass by their carriage several times, Malfoy doing everything in his power to stay several paces ahead of her.

For her part, Daphne kept looking at Malfoy like he was made out of stinksap.

The compartment was very crowded, as Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, and Anthony Goldstein were pretty much piled on top of each other.

Ginny looked at her old boyfriend.

(This is . . . a really tight fit, no?)

The train ride had been the longest amount of time that she had spent with Michael since their break-up at the end of her fourth year. They had been polite enough with each other, forcing out smiles and small talk. But there was a definite tension between the pair of them, and Ginny felt the distinct, uneasy sensation that there were some unresolved matters to be dealt with.

She knew there were no more feelings between them; their relationship had ended well over a year ago, and a year can be mere seconds for matters of the teenage heart. Michael had moved on to Cho Chang, and she had had her fun with Dean Thomas. And by the end of her fifth year and his sixth, they had moved on to far more serious relationships — with Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass respectively.

However, as they conversed, Ginny simply couldn't shake the feeling that she and Michael needed to address something about their relationship; perhaps if whatever it was finally came out, they could move beyond this stilted awkwardness.

Currently, however, there would be no heart-to-heart; Michael seemed more than willing to sit back and let the always chatty Terry Boot fill in the gaps in conversation.

It was in the middle of a hilarious story about Filch catching Terry with Su Li a couple of weeks before last term ended ("Don't ever try human transfiguration when you're in a tight jam. Not to hide from Filch or anybody else. And definitely not when you're half-starkers!") that the compartment door slid open. Daphne Greengrass squeezed into the already tight space. Terry scooted over to make room beside Michael.

"It's absolute crap, I tell ya! Malfoy's got no business being Head Boy. He's a prick, and he's acting like a nasty little bugger to the little ones." Daphne fell back into the seat, her right shoulder happening to fall right into Michael's left. He brought his arm up around her, and the two teenagers smiled, looking at each other and practically forgetting anyone else was ever nearby.

Ginny and Anthony Goldstein rolled their eyes; Ginny smirked, but Anthony just shook his head.

Neville cleared his throat. "Hey, er, Daphne. If you're comfortable," he said, with an awkward, but humor-filled grin, "can we go ahead and talk about your plans?"

Daphne and Michael blushed; she nodded at Ginny to start them off.

"So," Ginny began, casting the Muffliato Charm on the compartment, "this was Daphne's idea, a way to get information out to the students. The ones who might not be so tied to the old ways of thinking, the ones who can help change the way things are in our society."

"And Daphne decided to write a pamphlet," Luna continued. "She wrote out a critique of 'The Healer's' research!"

"Wait, wait," Anthony leaned forward. "A 'critique'? I'm sorry, but as cracked up as Stallsworth's conclusions are, a couple of sentences by a Hogwarts student isn't going to make much difference to anybody." He snorted and shook his head, his words filled with the doubt that clouded the three Ravenclaws' faces. "It's not going to change any one's mind—"

Daphne shrugged. "It's not just my words, Anthony."

He looked at her, his brow creased. "What do you mean, not just your words?"

Daphne grinned. "Read it yourself. All of you. Neville, here's a copy for you." She handed a parchment to Michael. Terry and Anthony and gave one to Neville.

The three Ravenclaws leaned forward to read the article. Daphne reclined a bit to allow Terry to read over her.

"'Muggle-borns and the Ministry: LIES!' by 'Nonnie Mouse'?'"

"Godric, Terry, why don'tcha say that a little louder? I don't think You-Know-Who heard you!"

Terry Boot glared at Daphne and a snickering Michael Corner. "'Nonnie Mouse'?" he asked Daphne.

" 'Nonnie Mouse. 'Nony – mous'. 'A-non-y-mous'."

"Ah!" Terry, Michael and Anthony said together. Anthony read the next few lines in a softer voice.

"'I've been a close observer of this war. I know about all the information being spread to the public. And, I must say, the only thing I find worse than being the chamber pot for a troll with dysentery—'" Terry and Michael snorted loudly, while Anthony grimaced, "'is being told lies and falsehoods about anything!'"

Terry looked up at Daphne. "I assume you wrote this? I dunno of any other bird who would think of troll diarrhea as context for something."

She flashed him a flat look.

Anthony kept reading. "'I like facts. For example — FACT: Lord Nutless Wonder murders in cold-blood on a daily basis. FACT: So do his minions. FACT: Harry Potter is a normal teenager who is also the only one who can stop him. FACT: He is doing what he needs to do to stop him.'"

Anthony continued on, "'What I don't have any proof of is this notion that Muggle-borns steal powers. I've known several Muggle-borns, and I've spent time with them. Not once have they stolen my wand or any other wand. Not once do I feel magically weaker because of spending time with them. Most of the time, I actually feel like Muggle-borns were giving me a run for my Galleons!'"

Several minutes passed, and the Ravenclaw boys continued to read. One would point at something, and the others would mutter or nod their heads or hiss in shock.

"Oh, this one's great," Terry piped up. "'After Healer Sagacity's thorough scholarly rebuke of Stallsworth's methodology, the idea that Muggle-borns steal magic should have been as ludicrous as Severus Snape winning Mr. Congeniality!'"

Michael snorted and laughed, much louder than he had intended. "I never thought I'd ever see someone refer to You-Know-Who as 'Lord Rottencrotch'!" He had to pause a second to wipe at his teary eyes and catch his breath, as hard as he was laughing.

"Well, there's plenty more where that came from." Daphne smirked and pointed to her head.

Finally, reaching the end of the article, all three boys' eyes widened in concert. Ginny and Luna looked over at Daphne and chuckled.

Michael lifted his head, grinning. He turned to Anthony. "Tony, you're unquestionably the smartest of the three of us. What do you make of this?"

Anthony kept his eyes on the parchment, and Ginny could see him trying to hold back a grin. He coughed a bit awkwardly and rubbed his chin, apparently brooding about what he had just read. He slowly turned toward Daphne. "Where did you get this information?"

"Ask Madam Pince to go directly into Hogwarts' extensive Parchment Archive. I cited approximately half the researchers, Healers and Sanguigeneticists that were available in the collection."

Anthony shook his head very quickly. "But why wouldn't this have been made public?"

"Anthony . . . Tony," Daphne said, speaking to him slowly, as if he should have known the answer. "You're in Ravenclaw, as was Healer Stallsworth. Don't you know how politically connected his family was? How he was born into wealth and privilege? How he had an uncle who convinced him Muggle-borns stole their magic? Anthony." Daphne beckoned toward him with her finger. "I hate to break it to you, but if someone has enough money, if someone knows all the right people, well, it makes it that much harder for their critics to get a foot in the door."

He glowered at her. "Point. Taken. And I hate to break it to you, Daphne Greengrass, but even if all of this is true and accurate," he shook the parchment in front of her, "it's not going to make any difference at all." He spoke with the same tone that Daphne had used on him.

"I think it's a brilliant idea."

Everyone turned to look at Neville. He shook the parchment in front of him. "If we want to do something about what's going on with the Ministry, and what'll be going on at Hogwarts, this is a good start." He looked at the other students, giving them a sad smile.

"It reminds me of our second year, y'know?" Neville chewed on his lips. "I remember what happened with the Chamber of Secrets and that monster petrifying Muggle-borns all over school—"

Ginny shifted in her seat. She tried to suppress her shaking body as Neville talked about what happened during her first year, not knowing that he was describing the events that she herself had set into motion.

She wanted to scream out as he continued to talk, but she did not.

"—And think about all the Muggle-borns we know. Colin Creevey, his brother Dennis. Hermione Granger—"

Ginny noticed Anthony Goldstein blush a little at Hermione's name.

"And Dean Thomas." He finished, giving Ginny a sad look. He smiled and Ginny noticed his eyes were moist. "They're all worth fifty of Malfoy . . . one-hundred even. A thousand! Well," he chuckled softly, "you get the idea."

"Su Li too," Terry Boot spoke up; it was the first time that he appeared pained to speak. "They used to yell things out at her all the time." He shook his head. "If I could've, I would've kicked their arses all the way back to Bristol."

"Don't forget Penelope Clearwater." Anthony added. "Or Kevin Entwhistle . . . or Stewart Ackerley." He nodded purposefully a couple of times. "I think that's all in Ravenclaw that I remember."

"I'm definitely doing this." Neville looked at the others. "I mean, I've got to do something, you know? And if anyone else wants to speak up about what's going on with the Ministry and the lies that they're spreading, they need to have the chance. We need to hear from them!"

Daphne nodded approvingly at Neville. "Well said." She looked at the three Ravenclaws that were sharing the compartment with them. "I know it seems futile, but I want to do something! And it should be bold. Audacious! The pamphlets are already done. We'll hand them out to the students here. We've also given the same information to the people that run Potterwatch."

The three boys looked at each other. Luna and Ginny just smiled at themselves.

"What's Potterwatch?" Terry asked.

Ginny answered. "It's a specially coded wireless broadcast. You'll need to have a password for it." She looked at the Ravenclaws who were obviously intrigued. "It's a way to get the information about what's going on with the war and the movement against You-Know-Who, and for people to find out information about their loved ones."

(And to keep their spirits up . . . keep their faith in Harry.)

She smiled, holding back a couple of tears that threatened to fall. "Potterwatch'll get information out to the public and they're going to discuss all the lies that the Ministry's spreading. Debunk them. Get the facts out to the wizarding community, to anyone who'll listen."

"So why bother with this newsletter?" Anthony asked. "Anyone finds out about this, the Ministry'll just lock you up for speaking out against them."

"Because," Daphne said, in a steady voice, "the students that go here want to learn, and we're all going to make sure that they get both sides of the story, that they're not going to run around uneducated and ignorant because they don't realize just how faulty this pure-blood crap is."

"It's up to us." Neville spoke softly and licked at his dry lips. "I'm sure there'll be students who refuse to believe anything other than what the Ministry says is right." He voice grew stronger and he spoke more assertively. "But I think it'll be worth it if we can convince even one student that this is wrong. If we do this right, Snape and those other two—"

"The Carrows?"

Neville nodded at Ginny. "Maybe they won't be able to find out about us." Ginny could hear the growing confidence and strength in Neville's voice. "We want to keep this quiet, we don't want to get hurt, but I don't want anyone to say that they didn't know better."

Daphne smiled at the Gryffindor boy. "Couldn't have said it better myself, Neville." She turned back to the other Ravenclaws. "Neville's right. I'm in this crap now, and I'd rather say that I was on the right side. Because I know they're wrong."

"The one thing they don't have is the numbers," Luna added. "We may not have that many who will fight with us, but with every attack and with each death, they lose more people that they could have had on their side." She spoke up in a surprisingly calm and even tone, losing just a bit of that normally dreamy demeanor that she always seemed to possess regardless. "With every law they pass, they harm hundreds, if not thousands of magical families that they tear apart." She shook her head and kept her eyes on them. "I hold no illusions that that's going to endear people to the Death Eaters' cause!"

Michael looked at Terry and Anthony. The three boys seemed to have been humbled.

"Daphne," Michael said, holding up the newsletter, "you realize you've already broken the law, right?"

Daphne smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders. "It was a shit law to begin with."

Michael snorted and laughed. Bowing his head between his arms, he breathed out three times. He slowly lifted his head up.

"Count me in. Whatever needs to be done. I'll do it."

Terry and Anthony both spoke up right after Michael. "Me too!" They spoke at the same time. Meeting each other's eyes, Terry and Anthony laughed and gave each other a little fist bump across Daphne and Michael's laps.

"Fantastic!" Ginny unrolled a second parchment, one that already had four signatures on it, and Conjured a quill. "As charter members of Dumbledore's Army, I'm sure you boys remember how this works?"

A chorus of groans sounded from across the compartment.

"Oh, come on!" Ginny said exasperated. "You can't expect us to conspire in a number of offenses that will get us time in Azkaban and not take precautions."

"You fellows are in Ravenclaw, correct?" Daphne added to Ginny's remark.

"Well, yeah, we are—" Michael whinged.

"You don't think we're stupid or anything, do you?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I never said that!" Michael exclaimed.

"All right then, Mr. Smarty-pants." Daphne waved at the parchment. "Read and sign."

Michael looked at Daphne suspiciously. "Will this one make 'SNEAK' appear on my forehead too? I still haven't quite got over what happened with Marietta Edgecombe our fifth year."

Daphne leaned forward, a mischievous expression on her face. "It's a surprise." She smirked at him. "We're not as clean or as precise as Hermione Granger, so you won't have any words on your face, but it will be a far messier punishment."

Michael's face fell, "Er . . . not your Bat-Bogey Hex?" he asked Ginny.

Ginny shook her head with a similar grin as Daphne's, "Worse."

Michael gulped, signed, and passed the quill to Terry, who then tossed it over to Anthony.

Daphne patted Michael's arm. "I knew you'd come through," she said cheekily.

"You owe me, I hope you realize that." He looked as though he was angry at first, but his face melted into his very cheeky grin. Daphne smiled smugly at him.

The students rolled up and concealed the documents. Daphne bid the group farewell with a frown as she set forth to continue her duties with Draco Malfoy.