"It's like I said in the beginning, 'Not everything has to be this big, life-altering thing,'" Parvati insisted. Harry was a little relieved to hear that, because quite frankly, he had been wrestling with his guilt and wasn't sure what to do with Parvati now that the ball was over. She seemed quite content to be left alone when she was with Lavender, which was most of the time, and didn't appear to want much in the way of his time. He was going to say something in response, but she was already talking to Lavender. On his other side, Ginny was sitting next to Dean, who was talking with Seamus about something. It involved a lot of waving his hands and letting his fingers walk across the table top, through his ham and peas. Judging from the amount of pumpkin juice that Ron had just sprayed from his nose, it was a funny story. After lunch, Harry would have to do actual schoolwork, since he'd been slacking in that department, but first he'd have some shopping to do.
"Did you find it?" Harry asked Ron.
"Not yet," Ron said, "but check this out." He pointed at a device that looked much like a telescope, but it had an extra eyepiece further down the tube. "It's a telescope for two. You could look at the stars together," Ron added, batting his eye-lashes.
"Shove off!" Harry laughed, pushing Ron off the bench with a grunt. He and Ron paged through the entire catalog, which they'd borrowed from Trelawny. There, on the very last page, was an advertisement and a small order card.
"Two and half? Galleons? Well that's not too bad," Harry said. Ron nodded.
"I expected more, to be honest," Ron replied, eying the form. "It looks like they only take transfers. You can't just send in the cash. Must be somewhere that doesn't use galleons..." He peered at the advertisement for a second. "Ah...Transylvania. Hm."
"If that's what it takes," Harry said, "I just hope it works out better than Operation Ferret. We've been waiting for a week and nothing's happened."
"Give it time," Ron said. "You don't know my brothers like I do. One year, Charlie took their train carriage. They waited an entire school year to get back at him--knocked him out with some sort of draught after he'd gotten on the train back to London, got him to the last carriage, and unhooked his car somewhere around the Scottish border. He was on the track for a day before we found him. His hand on the clock kept hovering between Hogwarts and home...but we couldn't tell why. Mum almost killed them."
"Well, I guess it's not like we do anything but wait." Harry pulled the form off of the back of the magazine. He started to fill it out, while Ron turned to his notes, flipping them back and forth. He was again looking for duplicates of notes he'd already taken.
The SkyBall arrived surprisingly quickly. It looked like a tiny black ball with pin pricks of silvery white, and was attached to a chain so that it could be worn as a necklace. When activated, it not only projected the stars in the sky, but also the dark of night. If it was used in a sunlit room, it produced a blackened ball that was the equivalent of going outside on a dark night, where no sunlight went. The manual was an inch thick and written in broken English. Harry could almost hear a heavily accented voice when he read it...When using the device, be ensuring that one doesn't need high visibility to perform tasks that might be dangerous. It almost sounded like Victor Krum in his head. When he showed Hermione, she cringed.
"That's wonderful, but why did you spend so much?"
"What?"
"They call anything like this a SkyBall, but the actual real thing is expensive, Harry. What did you pay for that? Fifteen Galleons? Twenty?"
"What? No! Try two and a half."
"Harry, I hate to say it, but for two and a half it's very likely fake."
"How can it be?" He said, heart beating and sinking at the same time. He dug in his bag for the advertisement, finally pulling the crumpled black sheet of paper out his bag. He unfolded it, smoothing the deep creases. For just a second, he was afraid that he had made a terrible mistake, but it still said "2.5" in large red and white flashing numbers. "I told you so," he said triumphantly. She was looking at the sheet too. Luna appeared from nowhere, actually surprising Harry. How long had she been there?
"You bought this without knowing how much it cost, silly," she said with a smile, "how romantic!"
"Two and a half galleons," protested Harry, tapping on the paper. Then he saw the small dot. He swore that dot hadn't been there before. At the bottom of the sheet was the tiny legend: exchange rates will vary. The receipt had come with the SkyBall, but he hadn't looked at it. It was still crumpled up in the bottom of his pack, where he had shoved it. He pulled it out and smoothed it with the edge of his hand. When he saw the price, his stomach clenched.
"Seventeen galleons!" he exclaimed. No wonder it had gotten there overnight.
"I know...you could have gotten one for two or three, without the darkening charm, and maybe a little larger globe," Luna continued on. "That's so sweet that you got the brand name one."
"I didn't do it on purpose," Harry grumbled. "Two and a half...seventeen bloody galleons..." His pride over the gift now seemed slightly muted. He didn't know Parvati well enough for a gift like that, but it was so late that he couldn't get her anything else. He took the SkyBall back and put it in its small wooden box. With Hermione spouting instructions and Luna telling him how sweet he was, he wrapped it and placed it under the small tree.
The next morning they got to open the gifts. It was notable mostly because Hemione didn't have one for Harry, and he felt almost ill again at the thought that he was about to give Pavarti a seventeen-galleon gift. That was more than his wand had cost.
He received the usual gifts...assorted chocolates and sweets, a book or two, and a new jumper from Molly Weasley. Parvati had no gift for him, but that was not surprising, give that they hadn't really been involved until three days ago.
"Oh Harry!" she said, looking at the SkyBall, "I can't let you do this!"
"You'd better, because I don't do astronomy any more, and it came from Transylvania, so I can't take it back." He pushed the gobstone-sized ball back at her. The chain it was hanging from was a whitish-silver, and she draped it around her neck. It was very distracting to watch it drop into place. Parvati kissed him warmly, and it was enough to make him reconsider spending as much as he had.
"I'll have to get you something," Parvati said. "You'll have to give me a bit to round something up."
"You don't have to give me anything," he answered. "I'm just glad you gave me another go at it."
"We all deserve second chances," she said, pulling the ball from her shirt. She activated it and the sphere of darkness expanded around the two of them. Harry fidgeted nervously.
"Hai Koshi," she said, pointing. "The Chinese have known about it forever. It's very important because Muggles can't see it; isn't that amazing?" Harry who wasn't sure which spot she was even pointing at just followed her finger. He wasn't sure what dot she meant. "It's tricky to find, but I'm not showing you because of that. I show you because it's biennial. It comes back every two years." Harry nodded as if he knew where she was going with this conversation. "Everything's a cycle," she continued. "You just have to let it come to you." She stopped and gazed at Harry.
Harry figured that trying for another kiss would be worth it, and it was.
***
Harry ended up working especially hard over the next few days. For one, he had to transfer all the manuals and books that Kingsley had given him into Hermione's fantastic condensing journals. Just before Christmas, she'd placed a handsome leather-bound book in his hand.
"What's this?" he asked, eying it. There were brass clamps holding it shut.
"You tell me," Hermione replied, grinning widely.
Harry tapped the book with his wand, which was by far the most common way to make a visible message appear. The book responded with a message that appeared in letters that reminded him eerily of a certain diary he'd had in his possession during his second year.
'One should be warned that sticking one's wand where it doesn't belong invites a sticky situation.'
Harry tapped the book again, this time uttering a revealing spell.
'I'm not kidding,' the book replied.
"Try an anti-invisibility charm," Hermione said helpfully, grinning cleverly. Harry had to think for a moment to remember the proper incantation listed Manual 713, but eventually he came up with it.
'If you continue to pound on me maliciously, someone shall have to take away your stick.'
"Ooh, I bet I know it!" Ron said excitedly, tapping the book before Hermione could stop him.
"No Ron!" she cried, just as the book leapt from Harry's hands, just as The Monster Book of Monsters had, a long time ago. Harry doubted this book could be calmed by stroking its spine, and only his lightning-quick reflexes saved the tip of Ron's nose from a sticky situation indeed. The book still managed to get a hold on Ron's wand, which it spit it out roughly in its zeal to finish the job it started in Ron's face. Hermione shouted something, and the book immediately became placid, purring softly in Harry's hands.
"You've only got four chances," she explained. "All you have to do is say the password. You can set it to whatever you want. Right now, it's Bilius."
"Oh, that's bloody marvelous!" Ron quipped sarcastically, peering at the quivering tome over Harry's shoulder, with his hand held over his prominent snout, as though it was still in some sort of danger.
"So I could put all of my books right in that one, then?"
"Well, it doesn't do everything right," Hermione said nervously. "I mean, it destroys the original text, so preserving valuable texts is a bit tricky. It also doesn't work for some kinds of books."
"Like what?" Harry asked, watching Ron fight with the book, which hadn't been able to get its fang-bearing covers open after Ron had clamped them shut and was starting to look as though it was very sleepy.
"Well, things with runes, mostly. I haven't been able to work out the copying charms that allow you to transpose runes."
"You're a bloody genius!" Ron announced, holding the now-calm book as far away from his face as he could manage, just in case it was playing some kind of trick on him, and trying to catch him unaware.
"Hermione," Harry said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You are the absolute best! I love you!" He kissed her square on the lips. Ron started to protest, but before he could, Hermione had fainted dead away.
"Well," Ron said evenly, "looks as though you've gotten the kissing bit down."
Harry had managed to fit all the manuals Kingsley had given him, and the actual books were safely destroyed in the bargain. The regular schoolbooks were in the same books he'd started the year with. They worked, and they didn't destroy anything, so Harry didn't see the need to change things.
"I can't wait to start the spells," Ron said.
"Excuse me?" Harry hadn't been paying attention...he'd been lost in a daydream involving quite a bit of gold glitter.
"Temporalism, mate. I'm ready for more than loads of reading."
"I think this second half is going to stink, frankly," Harry replied. He counted off their big projects on his fingers. "We've got full body transfiguration, advanced charms, a really big potions thing...and all that stuff for Temporalism."
"You've got the charms down," Hermione said imperiously. "What do you think we were doing all that time? Sigillus runes are definitely hard enough. Besides, you can make a patronus...it's not like you need to fall back, but that's something to fall back on, anyway." Harry had considered that already. He very much felt that 'falling back' on something like the Patronus was exactly what he needed, but he wasn't going to tell Hermione that. It gave hime time for things like Quidditch, as petty as it sounded. That was a good thing, because the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin match was coming up.
The match was on a Saturday, when it was still brutally cold. As happy as Harry was to be watching a Quidditch match, it also meant that the winter holiday was coming to an end, and he would soon be back to schedules and texts. It was just too bad that they hadn't had any warm days since the week he had gotten his motorbike from Hagrid. This much arctic weather was trying, and everyone was getting a touch of cabin fever, so it was good that they were getting outside, even if it was frosty.
The match was not going well for Ravenclaw. They'd lost Roger Davies, and Cho might have actually been a better Captain, but Davies was a pretty fair chaser.
"Ohh! A goal by Vaisey, who has been running wild on this Ravenclaw squad. Stew Ackerley is just not having things go his way!" Owen's voice was so magnified by the magical loudspeaker that Harry felt his bowels shaking and his stomach rumbling.
"Sytherin is now up by 160 points. Captain and Seeker Cho Chang has a decision to make now. On the one hand, if she captures the Snitch, the game is over and she can attempt--great save there by Ackerley--on the one hand, she can end the game. On the other, she can draw the game out and give her chasers more time to work. It'll all boil down to how much faith she has in her team.
"Another score for Slytherin! That looks like Zabini, in on reserve. Ravenclaw takes it down the pitch, and Pucey steals...he's coming back! What a great save for Ackerley, but it looks like he's come up injured. Yes...it appears as though he took a Quaffle off the fingertips. In this cold, that has to smart! Looks like Chang is going to check him out, but she hasn't called for a break in play for the injury yet...And that's why! The snitch was right on her way, and Malfoy looks to have been caught up. His broom is fast, but he's going to have to out-corner her...I don't know if that's going to happen. It looks like Chang is going to give chase to the Snitch."
Harry didn't blame her. Cho did indeed have a tough decision to make, but he'd have done the same thing if he'd have been in her place. Letting the Snitch go could only let Slytherin accumulate more points. Even though Ravenclaw might grind some out, the chances that they'd make up that kind of deficit were small, and the chances that they would sustain another even more serious injury was high. The students of Ravenclaw house had two favorite Quiddich teams; Ravenclaw, and whichever was playing Slytherin. Giving Slytherin more points, and thus a better chance at winning the cup, would be distasteful to any true Ravenclaw.
Sometimes you had to cut your losses.
"It looks like Malfoy isn't going to make it...and Chang has caught the Snitch! Ravenclaw still loses by 20 points, but Chang catches the Snitch." The Ravenclaws and Slytherins congregated in general clumps, surrounded by their various supporters. It resembled a great pair of eyes...one azure, and one a bright green.
"I never thought I'd say this," Ron said, "but I'm ready to get inside and get to some homework. It's just too cold for this, mate."
"No kidding," Harry said, looking around. The Quidditch team was still there...they wouldn't miss a chance to scout out the enemy, and Connor was there, though Harry thought that was because Natalie was still there. Parvati and Lavender didn't view this as a match; they viewed it as intelligence gathering. They sat several rows down, heads together, laughing and pointing. Hermione had long since retired to the castle, and looking around the stands at the spots of bare wood peeking through the mélange of color told Harry that she wasn't alone.
There was a good, cozy fire in there, anyway.
***
"I finished your present a bit late, so I couldn't properly wrap it!" Hermione held out her hand, and in it was a small box, which despite her warning, was immaculately wrapped in reddish-brown paper. Harry took it from her. His cheeks were still flushed from the cold, and it felt as though the chill was deep within his body, as though he was warm on the outside and still frozen on the inside; like a steak that wasn't quite defrosted all the way.
He slowly unwrapped the box, which contained a wad of tissue and a bottle, almost no more than a vial. A surprisingly bright bluish purple flame licked at the sides. Harry looked up, confused.
"It's ah…for help with your potions…your other potions. It may not always be convenient to carry a candle around."
It occurred to Harry that she was probably tired of him being creepy, but this was a gift; it wasn't polite to bring up something like that.
"It'll be nice to have that on the bureau," Ron remarked. He was like a third arm when it came to getting him away from Hermione. "I've worried before that you might drift off and burn down the castle."
"I doubt that would happen," Hermione said seriously, "if you'd ever taken the time to read Hogwarts: a History-"
"I haven't though, and I never will," Ron said, "I mean, I'm at Hogwarts and you've read it. Why should I waste valuable studying time to do that?"
"Valuable studying time? How gullible do you think I am?"
"Gullible enough to believe that," Harry chipped in. Ron gave him a dirty look.
"While we're on the subject of gullible, what's this I hear about you selling special quills?" Hermoine said sweetly. Harry and Ron weren't taken in so easily.
"You saw those," Ron said, after a pause. "I seem to remember you telling me it was quite a nice bit of enchanting."
"Yes, well, that was before I saw on of the extra special ones." She held up a piece of paper.
Je suis un ballot. J'ai le baton.
"I don't speak French," Harry said, matter-of-factly.
"I do. And that's not polite," Hermione shot back.
"Wha--" Ron started.
"Never mind!" Hermione snapped. "Look. The quill you showed me was fine...work with me here. Whatever wrote this," she waved the scrap of parchment, "tell your brothers to think of people like Neville who may be writing nasty things to their pen pals."
"I think that'd be worth seeing, honestly," Ron muttered.
"What?" Hermione said intensely.
"Nothing," both Harry and Ron said loudly. Hermione looked around.
"You are a prefect, Ron, act like it!"
***
The next day, classes resumed. It was somewhat depressing to be back to schedules, but at least all they did or the day was review what they'd done the first half of the year. Harry hadn't said anything about it, but he was thinking that Hermione may have been right. He had a short break after Charms, during which he decided that Hermione may have been right. He'd been doing the Patronus since his third year, but he'd already done all the work for the Sigil. It would be harder to do all the work for the Patronus than the Sigillum, since although he could do it, he'd never stopped to think about the Patronus and made it work and he certainly didn't do any reports or special reading ahead of time. At least he'd done a lot of the reading for the Sigil. Hermione would be happy to hear that, but he wasn't going to tell her what his reasons were...let her wonder and be proud.
Harry was on his way back to the common room when he heard the shrieks. The dozen or so students who were in the hall with him stopped and looked around, as if the gleaming suits of armor that were standing silent vigil over the hallway were the source of the improbable racket. Moments later, Filch slid around the corner. His face was very red and what remained of his hair was sticking out in tufts at odd angles. He looked decidedly less than sane to Harry.
"This is your fault!" Filch said, grabbing a handful of Harry's robes.
"What is?" asked Harry genuinely. He had no idea what the man was on about.
"You put that...trap there. Poor Mrs. Norris is injured because of you!"
"I've no idea what you're talking about! I've been in class!"
"Don't lie to me!" Filch shouted roughly, shaking Harry until his spectacles slipped from his face. The next moment the squib caretaker had at least half a dozen wands jabbing him. Most of these students were in Muggle Studies with Harry; and that made them Muggle-born or at least interested in Muggles in some way. That meant most of them were also D.A., and in Harry's mind, they were probably acting more on instinct and trying to defend a fellow student more than Harry specifically. Still, he was glad for the gesture.
"No," Parvati said. She probably had been trying to defend Harry specifically. He still hadn't forgotten the night in the Common room. She probably could have gotten the drop on almost anyone that night. "We've been in class until just now, like Harry said."
"I...I'll tell Dumbledore!"
"We'll tell him that you attacked a student!" Parvati said, jabbing him with her wand. Filch huffed and puffed, but he didn't shake Harry any more. Slowly, he lifted his hands from Harry's robes.
"I know you all did it. Think you know it all! I'll be watching you. I'll be watching!"
"You should have been watching before," Lavender said, in a rare clever moment for her. "You might have caught who was really doing it!" Lavender was not otherwise quick thinking, and she seemed a little surprised at herself. Filch backed away slowly, muttering under his breath.
"Nutter," Parvati pronounced.
"Without a doubt," Susan Bones announced.
"What's his problem, anyway?" Lavender mused. In a few moments, her question was answered, as Ginny informed them that Mrs. Norris had wandered into some sort of gimmick that had covered her feet with a sticky tar. She'd been in the infirmary when Filch had brought her there, desperate and babbling about the vast number of students who'd had it in for Mrs. Norris.
"Well, that is too bad that an innocent victim has to pay for someone's prank," Hermione said, trying to be diplomatic.
"That's right, and she's the only thing standing between Hogwarts and You-Know-Who's army of killer rodents," Seamus added. They all laughed, even Hermione.
The following day was potions, and as it was the new year, they were set to start on their N.E.W.T. preparatory potions. Snape had reviewed with them the details of their year six project. Harry had heard it all before...they would have to create a complex potion that they hadn't studied before and that they wouldn't study in class. It must have at least three distinct stages, and it must be submitted with an attendant paper explaining why each component was used, and the implications of using a wrong component, or preparing the right one improperly. He'd ominously stated that they'd have to try the potions on themselves. Harry had decided on the binding potion mentioned in Lupin's animagus manuals. It looked complex, but not overly difficult...at least he somewhat understood the idea behind it, and it didn't have a high likelihood of killing him if he did it wrong. Hermione was planning on Wolvesbane potion, and Neville actually seemed to cause some curiosity with his choice. Snape would never in a million years admit that he was in any way interested in what a Gryffindor was doing, and especially when it came to Neville Longbottom, but he did seem intrigued the tiniest bit by the Aztec Ghost Potion. Hermione certainly was. Thursday they would have to start the actual potions.
The next day, Professor Walken showed them something that he had hanging on the wall for the entire year.
"This is a 'causality cloak'. It shows what a tangled life we live by showing us just how much other people impact us." The 'cloak' was actually made from tiny chain links. It was mostly a dull silver in color, but marbled throughout with other colors, and Harry saw shades of blue, red, gold, and green winding their way through the links.
"The colors you use are up to you, and I would suggest that you choose no more than three or four friends, as it would quickly become unwieldy. Mine is quite complex...you simply won't have the time or probably the inclination to do more. As it stands, we'll have you use enchanted thread rather than chain links. I think some of you will be surprised at what you find." Harry pointedly looked at Ron, who had been excited to get on with the practical end. It was immediately in his mind that he would have Ron and Hermione on his cloak. The only question was whether it would look like an actual jagged lightning bolt, which is what the professor's resembled. At the end of the lesson, Professor Walken called him over.
"Harry, I think you should consider putting You-Know-Who on your cloak."
"Are you nuts? I hate him!"
"Watch your mouth, Mister Potter," said Professor Walken sanguinely. It didn't sound like he was being scolded. "I merely think that it may benefit you to see how much he impacts your life."
"I know how much!" Harry insisted.
"Do you now? You can look back and see the direction he has pushed you towards, for better or for worse? It may help you to understand how much he impacts your life...how he has altered the course of your personal history through his interaction with you." Harry didn't look impressed. "You may be taking this the wrong way, Harry. What it sounds like is a suggestion--You may want to include You-Know-Who--something to consider. It's not. I am telling you to put him there. You need to see what comes as a result of your knowing him. Consider that part of your assignment, Mister Potter." If there was anything Harry didn't want, it was proof that Voldemort had changed him in some way, and he thought briefly of blowing the assignment off. His desire to be the dedicated student was seriously wearing thin. In the end, Harry agreed just to get Walken off his back.
That night, he was talking to Parvati in the common room about how "official" their relationship was. Lavender was somewhat angry, presumably because it was somewhat less satisfying to get the gossip directly from the source. Harry had the feeling that if he was dating anyone else, Ginny for example, she would have been much happier, because then most of what she knew would come from sources she was used to trusting. When everything came from Parvati's mouth, who knew what she could trust?
"Are you certain you're okay with this time thing?" Parvati asked, "I mean, you don't feel left out or anything?"
"Of course I'm fine with it!" he said, and hugged her tightly. Frankly, it was about perfect for him. He got the snogging without having to worry about keeping her entertained, and apparently she was happy enough to do her thing and give him his space. He'd even be fine with her being much more clingy than she was, to be honest. Now that he was being eased into the world of women, it was as if his feet were wet and the water was no longer cold. Dean chose this moment to hurry by at a trot.
"Get a room, eh?"
"Bugger off!" Harry said. "Just because Ron flips out every time you touch Ginny…"
Dean laughed and continued through the painting in a fit of coughs.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" Parvati asked.
"I'd...I'd really like that."
"You know," she said, guiding him into a disused classroom that looked to be full of old telescopes, "I'm really not just looking for a place to chew on each other, if that's what you're thinking." That's what Harry was thinking, but he was smart enough to act otherwise. He shrugged, hoping to play it off.
"What's on your mind?" He asked, somewhat nervously. Parvati must have caught it because she immediately smiled, placing an arm on his shoulder.
"It's nothing bad, Harry. I just wanted to ask you if you'd time to consider this."
"This?" He said uncertainly.
"This," she waved her hand around. "This dating. I mean, it's going to take a brave woman to fend off the kind of gossip you're going to generate if people think you're involved with someone. I mean, think of Hermione and all the Prophet put her through."
"So what you're saying is going out with me would be like social suicide?"
"No," Parvati said, flashing a dazzling smile. "It would just take a brave, brave woman."
"Ah. Know any?"
"Well, I heard that there's an entire house devoted to the brave ones."
"Yeah?"
"Indeed," she snuggled closer, "the bravest of the brave, you could say."
At that very moment, the door to the classroom flew open and a weak stream of light spilled into the room, silhouetting a scrawny figure in the doorway. Through sheer luck, Harry and Parvati were in the darkest corner of the room, and hadn't yet been spotted. Filch took several steps into the room, and Harry silently blessed the unknown perpetrator who'd burnt Mrs. Norris's feet. Had she been there, they would have been discovered for sure. Parvati whipped an object out of her blouse, and even though they were in very deep trouble, Harry had time to think very pleasant thoughts about what was coming next. They all turned out to be wrong, however; as what happened next defied imagination.
Parvati activated the SkyBall, which immediately cast the room into almost total darkness. Had it been one of the cheaper models, the stars would have been created by pinpoint projection, and the SkyBall would have been plainly visible as the source of the disturbance. You got what you paid for though, and the real deal didn't create its stars by measly projection....it would have stopped serious stargazers from being able to see the stars that were projected on their persons.
"My, my," Filch drawled, pausing. Outside the ball of darkness he could still see in, but one he got inside it, he wouldn't be able to see much of anything. "We are in for it now, aren't we? I can hear you; no need to pretend you aren't up to no good…headmaster will have a field day…yesssss." Parvati's ear was directly in front of Harry's mouth, and he whispered to her, not even loud enough for him to hear over his own beating heart.
"Close your eyes, and when I say, deactivate the SkyBall."
He waited what he hoped would be long enough, raised his wand, and tightly squeezing shut his eyes, whispered in her ear. Immediately after, he muttered an incantation that he'd learned from George Weasley. There was a loud pop and a blinding flash of light, and Harry ran for all he was worth, pulling Parvati along behind him. She was surprisingly quick, and didn't need much encouragement from him to keep moving. They dashed by the momentarily blinded Filch and tore through the hallways at a breakneck pace, looking for a door, any door, that may be available. Harry considered another bubble, but before he could get his wand from his pocket, Parvati dragged him through a narrow door and into a broom closet.
"Ow!" cried a very familiar feminine voice. A moment later, Dean's soft, deep whisper spoke up.
"Filch?"
Harry nodded before he remembered it was pitch black. He could see the vaguest of shapes, but he had a feeling that was because of Neville's concoction, and that the others were most likely blind. To test his theory, he waved his hand in front of Dean's face, and then Ginny's. Neither reacted, and Harry quietly guided Parvati around a pile of boxes and a mop and bucket.
"When I told you to get a room, I didn't mean this one!"
"Yeah…er…so hold on then, what are you four up to?"
"Nothing," Connor said, trying to sound innocent and failing.
"Harry," Dean said pleadingly, "you won't tell Ron, will you?"
"Tell him what? I didn't see anything." This was true…Harry was lucky to see the lumpy shapes of boxes and buckets. Dean and, he supposed, Ginny, were merely shadowy blobs.
They hurried back the Gryffindor common room, and entered as a group, which Harry knew they shouldn't have done as soon as the painting opened. A voice he knew all too well echoed throughout the cavernous space.
"What are you doing? Thomas? Weasley? MacDonald? Colier? Patil? Potter? Exactly what is going on here? Hm? Speak up!" Harry noticed something on Connor's neck, and nudged Natalie. She glanced at him, and he looked at Connor's neck in what he hoped was a meaningful way. Natalie, who was nearly too short to see what Harry had been looking at, artfully maneuvered herself into a better position. She winced and glanced at Hermione, who was still berating them. Dean must have seen it too, because he was alternating between looking properly ashamed and trying not to laugh. "Thomas? What's so funny?"
"Nothing, ma'am," Dean managed, choking back laughter at the American, who was surely about to get caught. Then, with resounding crack, Natalie stepped forward and slapped Connor on the neck.
"Damn, woman! What the hell are you doing?"
"And let that be a lesson to you," she pronounced smugly, turning to Hermione. "Naturally, I wasn't involved." She stepped gracefully by the brown-haired prefect.
Hermione's mouth didn't say anything, but the look on her face was one of stunned disbelief. As she turned to watch Natalie slip by, the rest of the group dispersed as quickly and quietly as they could. By the time she looked back, everyone was hard at work looking busy someplace else. Connor had chased Natalie, and a moment later the siren started. A red-faced Connor returned, and Harry noticed that the entire side of his neck was bright red. He had to give Natalie credit…she was quick thinking.
***
That Tuesday, Harry awoke early in the morning to the smell of burning wood. He knew what that meant....his bedside bureau had again been defiled. After checking to see that the rest of the room was asleep, he tugged on his glasses and attempted to see what was written there, by the light of Hermione's flame in a bottle. This time there was a limerick, which he mouthed as he read it.
There once was a fellow from Surrey
With saliva that tasted like curry...
He paused as the rest was rather rude. A breath on his ear made him jump and spin. Connor was there, and Harry came within a hair of stupefying him.
"I'm sorry," Connor said. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"Just....watch who you're bloody sneaking up on." Harry exhaled.
"That's fresh. I can smell it."
"I noticed," Harry replied. It doesn't look good that you're the only one awake."
"No...I suppose not. Do you think I did it?"
"You'd have to be crazy to," Harry replied, almost mentioning that he had runes on his area. "Could you hand me that bottle?" he said slowly, pointing at the flame in a vial. He was easily close enough to grab it himself, and Connor looked at him as though he was crazy. He handed it over though, confirming Harry's suspicions.
Conner didn't set off the wards.
Harry was sure that he and Ron had set them up right, because Ron had set them off before. Connor had either found a way around them, or they were no longer active, which Harry couldn't test until morning. He lay down, staring at the flame dance and twist, giving him an excuse for asking for the bottle and ignoring Connor. Something about the American was very wrong; it had always been wrong, and tonight had simply brought it to the front of Harry's mind: When it came to keeping track of him, Connor couldn't be trusted.