Avid Reader: We could all use a little more Dragon Jake, it's true. And thank you!

IT'S BEEN FOREVER, I KNOW. Don't worry, this chapter was so worth the wait. Thanks for the patience and the support! Read, review, and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

It was an arid cave with a strangely rancid smell about it. No water dripped from the crumbling walls, and no animal tracks marked the ground. There were no webs, no nests, no moss, no signs at all of any life having crossed the cave in ages, magical or otherwise.

He had been careful to cover his tracks.

"Hello! Anybody home?"

The echoing voice was accompanied by the sound of claws scraping through pebbles and coarse dirt. He edged carefully into the shadows as the voice beckoned again, "Come out, come out, little Yowie!"

His guest came into view. From what little light seeped this far into the cavern, he could see the outline of a lean yellow dragon sifting through the stalagmites. The orange stripes lining his back melded seamlessly with the surrounding earth as he moved between formations. He passed just by him and continued obliviously further into the cave.

"I know you're in here somewhere!" The dragon searched the darkness around him, sniffing the air and cringing at the odor. "Got a call from a village down the way about some bushie bigfoot taking a walkabout last night. You'll get caught for good if you stay here!"

Keeping to the shadows, he slid carefully towards the loose boulders above the cave entrance as the yellow dragon below began to lose his patience. "Okay, what'ya want? Food? Shiny stuff? Come out and-"

One strong pull was all it took. His claws tore the crumbing roof down and sealed the cavern closed while the dragon whirled in surprise. Coughing and shouting, the dragon charged toward the blockage and began clawing at the debris.

He stepped out carefully into the dark cavern. The dragon's antler-like horns twitched, and he spun back around. His eyes were narrowed and lit with a dull, pulsing, yellow glow.

"Show yourself!" The dragon's head swiveled side to side, his teeth bared in a silent growl. He spat a fireball of blue flame into an outstretched claw and held it high, throwing trembling shadows across the cave and bringing the blue-scaled creature before him into sharp relief. Instantly, the dragon's stance relaxed and his maw sagged with wonder.

"Are you alone?"

"I'll be stuffed...Lao Shi?" A strained half-laugh choked itself out of Fred's throat. "I can't believe it! And here I am looking to spot a-"

"Are you alone?"

Fred blinked at his harsh tone, but nodded stiffly. "Too busy for small talk, huh? Yeah, it's just me. Dominic thought it'd be good to start running on my own."

"Good." The tension in Lao Shi's shoulders eased itself and he stepped further into the Australian Dragon's blue light. Fred's eyes instantly widened with concern.

"Lao, you look terrible. Is something wrong?"

"I have little time, Fred." Lao Shi kept his tone as even as possible. "Do you know where Jake is?"

He knew the Australian Dragon's answer the moment he saw his head tilt in genuine confusion. "You mean he's not with you? The World Dragon Council reported you two missing months ago, everyone thinks the Dark Dragon got the jump on you guys."

"Another dead end." Exhaustion clung to his mind and body; it felt like a decade had passed since he left New York. "He always relied on his friends during difficult times. I was certain that...but I was wrong, once again."

"Another...?" Fred jerked forward. "Jake really did go missing. You've been looking for him this whole time, haven't you? Tell me you found something!"

Lao Shi couldn't bring himself to answer. He looked to the small crystal hanging from the band around his wrist and thought of the door to Jake's mind. Even under his most focused attempts, it had remained as impenetrable as Rose had promised. "Nothing."

Fred laughed, jarring Lao Shi out of his thoughts. The yellow dragon raised a comforting hand toward him. "No offense, mate, but you got a few 'roos loose in the top paddock. It's a big world, you can't expect to cover it all by yourself. Let me and Dominic help, we'll find Jake before-!"

"I must leave." He edged away from Fred's reach and began to tear away at the wall of crumbling stone he'd created. "For Jake's own safety, the World Dragon Council must remain ignorant of my movements. Should Dominic ask, you found only an empty cave. Nothing more."

"Wait, Lao-!"

Debris streamed around them as Lao Shi's claws broke through to daylight. The dust threw Fred into a coughing fit, and the flames he'd held fizzled into darkness. Lao Shi slipped through the torrent and into the blaring savanna beyond, soaring into the pale, empty sky.

Far below, he heard Fred yell through the rubble. "Lao, listen!"

He paused, hovering in mid air as the Australian Dragon fought for breath. "You're right about him!" he hacked through dust and sapphire flames. "Jake never leaves his friends, trust me!"

He considered it a moment, then continued his course. Lao Shi flew fast with an urgency powering his body, refusing to slow even after the cave was miles behind him. For once, he didn't feel weighed down by guilt or fatigue.

All he could feel was a sick churning in his stomach that told him he was almost out of time.

"I don't care if I have to give you private lessons every night myself, Potter. I will help you become an Auror if it is the last thing I do!"

Jake leaned against the wall outside Professor McGonagall's office, his hand pressed over his mouth as he heaved with silent laughter. He had just left the mischievous company of the Weasley twins to make his appointment with the Head of Gryffindor House, fully anticipating a boring and awkward half hour of one sided conversation. After all, what was there for him to say at a Career Advisement for wizards? Good intentions aside, Jake could see little for him to gain by pretending to care about his prospects as a Muggle Consultant or Assistant Apothecary. He doubted even more that the other real fifth-years felt much different, given their rapidly growing exam-induced anxiety.

It was a pleasant surprise, then, when he found himself in the priceless position of listening to McGonagall deliver one of her most crisp and debilitating tirades to none other than Professor Frog-Face herself. Their voices echoed so well through the thick office door that Jake didn't even need to conjure up his dragon ears to enjoy the feud.

"Next I suppose you'll promise to bring Dumbledore back to the school as well?" Jake could just imagine it, the puny little woman flushed red in the face and pointing a shaky finger at the towering Transfiguration professor.

"Your arrogance is unflattering, Delores, and I assure you Professor Dumbledore does not require my assistance in that matter."

"May I take that as a confession, Minerva? Perpetrating another plot against the Minister, no doubt!"

"You're raving, and we're finished. You may go, Potter."

By the time the office door creaked open and Harry appeared in the hallway, Jake had collapsed against the wall and was sitting on the floor, the muscles in his cheeks burning from prolonged laughter. Harry shambled by, downcast and focused so intently on his feet that he nearly failed to notice Jake twitching on the ground. "Oh, hey John. Your turn next?"

Jake wiped away a joyful tear and nodded, climbing back up to his feet. The heated argument continued to escalate in the awaiting office, and Harry took another careful step away from the gaping door. "Well, good luck. I'll, uh...see you at practice."

He disappeared down the hall while Jake struggled to recover from the sensation of getting slugged in the stomach. He'd all but forgotten about his first Quidditch practice that afternoon, and the day's thrills seemed minuscule in comparison to the embarrassments that no doubt loomed ahead.

With slow, reluctant movements, he shuffled over to the open door and looked on as the two professors continued their verbal warfare. Compared to this place, being grounded for life doesn't sound so bad.

"Your blatant disloyalty and lack of respect are a mockery of this institution!"

"If anyone is a mockery, it's-"

Jake wrapped his knuckles against the door. Both women snapped to him with vicious stares and quickly collected themselves after realizing their argument had drawn an audience. Umbridge hobbled over to a short stool in the corner of the room while Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk and smoothed out piles of pamphlets and papers that crowded its surface.

She fixed her sharp eyes on him and waved to the chair in front of her. "Good afternoon, Mr. Long. Have a seat."

Umbridge had taken to scribbling across a clipboard as Jake sat down in the rough wooden chair and examined the brochures on the professor's desk. Each little booklet had a cartoonish drawing of some occupation accompanied by an equally bizarre title and motto. The nearest one read "Under the rug or over their heads, whatever floats their boat! Join the Muggle Excuse Committee!" and was decorated with a poorly disguised wizard pointing to an upside-down line graph. Though entertaining, the resemblance to the packet they'd found in the Restricted Section was disturbingly uncanny, and it twisted Jake's stomach into knots. Talk about sticking with tradition. I guess some things never change.

"Alright, Mr. Long." Professor McGonagall adjusted her glasses. "As you know, this meeting is intended for me to help you decide what future you would like to pursue after Hogwarts and plan which N.E.W.T.s you will have to take accordingly. Since acceptance to N.E.W.T. level courses is based on your performance in your O.W.L.s, it is important to know where you stand and which tests you should focus on."

Jake nodded politely and tried to ignore the sound of Umbridge's quill moving angrily over parchment. Professor McGonagall leaned back and continued, "Have you thought about how you may wish to apply yourself?"

Jake sighed. Now that you mention it, I did, but I don't see the handout for "Becoming a Guardian of the Magical World". He merely shrugged and shook his head.

"No matter." She dug through a stack of plump manila envelopes and removed one that was far thinner than the rest. "You have not attended Hogwarts for long, but perhaps reviewing your performance thus far will help us see where your strengths lie."

My report card? Jake leaned forward to try and catch a glimpse of the papers, but Professor McGonagall held them tilted out of his sight.

"Professor Hagrid has consistently given you top marks...as has Professor Snape, that's a high recommendation." She flipped to the next page. "You're achieving an 'Outstanding' in History of Magic, that takes persistence...and your Herbology scores are adequate." Her lips pressed into a thin line on the next page. "Divination and Charms do not appear to be going well, and I can personally say that your abilities in Transfiguration are far from the standard level."

Yo, which one of us can turn into a fire-breathing dragon? Jake folded his arms and tried to shrug off his irritation. Being criticized about his grades had always been a touchy subject, and apparently that didn't change when the grades were for magic he was physically incapable of performing.

A tiny, sweet ahem squeaked from Umbridge's corner of the room. One of Professor McGonagall's hands crushed the paper held in its grasp, and she looked up with restrained rage. "Delores?"

"I'm not sure if you received my reports," she mentioned freely. "I'm afraid Mr. Long's performance in Defense Against the Dark Arts has also been..."

"You are clearly talented in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures." Professor McGonagall turned away from her with intense disinterest. "Have you considered applying to the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures? I understand your uncle is the head of the department, you may do very well there."

"I'm afraid I must disagree." Umbridge clapped her clipboard against her lap and examined Jake like he were a stain on her blouse. "Mr. Long's recent transgressions have thoroughly shot any chance of him ever working for the Ministry."

Jake rolled his eyes. Dang, and I was so looking forward to pencil-pushing for your pasty, wrinkled backside. Professor McGonagall, however, was grimacing and halfway out of her seat with a tart retort on the tip of her tongue. Just then, her office door thumped with rapid knocking.

McGonagall closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Come in."

The door creaked open and a Hufflepuff girl Jake didn't recognize sidled in through the gap. Her mouth was open to speak, but she hesitated at seeing Jake, the desk filled with paperwork, and McGonagall's irritated expression. "Yes, what is it Ms. Tate?"

"I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall, but there are...er...dancing statues," she explained nervously.

Professor McGonagall stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

The girl shifted to her other foot. "The statues, they've started gathering from all over the castle and they're doing some kind of jig in the Great Hall. It's actually pretty good..."

Jake dug his nails into his legs trying to contain his amusement. It couldn't have been more than thirty minutes since he'd parted from the Weasley twins, with whom he had promised a delivery of unique magical gags. The only catch was that Jake was going to need a pair of wings to get to them, so he had left the two deviants with a simple request: one enormous, inescapable distraction.

There was a sharp clip-clop as Umbridge bounced to her feet. "Who is responsible? Why haven't they been stopped?" she demanded.

The Hufflepuff girl recoiled at noticing the small woman. "I don't know! Professor Flitwick tried some counterspell, but they just dragged him into their routine. No one can reach him, and we couldn't find you in your office, so-"

Umbridge gave an exaggerated huff and peeled out of the room, the breeze from her brisk exit toppling several stacks of career pamphlets. She gave no farewells as she left, dragging the other girl out by the wrist.

Professor McGonagall waited until the door snapped shut to finally retake her seat, the corner of her lips perked into a smirk. "Well Mr. Long, I think we've about finished up here. Take any brochures that interest you, though I suggest you consider those involving the strengths we discussed."

Jake nodded and picked up a few of the more absurd examples, mostly so he'd have some humorous souvenirs, but also to appease Professor McGonagall. "And before you go, Mr. Long."

He watched curiously as she clasped her hands in front of her and observed him with unnerving skepticism. "During the events in the Headmaster's office last week, Professor Dumbledore instructed you to trust in me even more than him should you need anything, correct?" She lifted her glasses away and squinted down at him. "Professor Dumbledore is no stranger to secrets, but it is rare that I am not included in them."

Aw man. Jake could feel himself sweating and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Come on, lady, don't be like this. You're one of the weirdos here I actually like.

"That said," she continued more gently, "I don't intend to pry and ruin such a prestigious recommendation from the Headmaster. If the time comes, whatever that time may be, you know where to find me."

Oh. Silence filled the gap left by her solemn promise, and deep down Jake knew she meant what she'd said. Something about her unfaltering demeanor and the air of reserved kindness she carried was comforting to him. He doubted neither her sincerity nor her character, and were it not for Stout's own sake he may very well have slipped the collar from his neck right there. As it was, knowing he had another fallback plan would have to do.

He tried to think of some way to show his appreciation, but Professor McGonagall stood first. "By the way, I spoke with Ms. Johnson this morning about the team roster changes. I'll have you know I've gotten quite used to having the Quidditch Cup in my office." She nodded and began collecting her papers. "Good luck."

The walk to the ground floor was not nearly long enough to ease Jake's nerves. He was still compulsively biting his nails by the time the Great Hall came into view, along with the blockade of students that had formed in front of it. Through the open doors, he could see dozens of stone soldiers and suits of armor inside the dining hall perfectly undulating in what could only be the Electric Slide. The spectators cheered as Professor Flitwick was carried through the motions by two statues while Umbridge ran about, trying to end the festivities with a myriad of utterly ineffective spells.

Jake kept to the back of the crowd, clapping along with their booming applause as the largest of the living statues heaved Umbridge over its shoulder and bounced her around like an overgrown child. Her cries had begun to fade as she was carried into the dining hall when a voice spoke just over his shoulder. "Enjoying ourselves, are we?"

His hair stood on end as he turned to Hermione, who seemed determined not to enjoy the scenery. She looked on the verge of a rant, but Jake grabbed her arm and guided her in the opposite direction through the open doors to the castle grounds. He'd been given his distraction, but there was no telling how long it would last.

Hermione allowed him to direct her down the fields, sighing with annoyance. "You just know Fred and George are behind that. It's all good and fun to taunt Umbridge, but they're distracting the rest of us from studying! Honestly, it's very inconsiderate."

Jake dragged the training collar up and over his head. "Girl, you gotta learn to take it easy. If anything, we're helping everyone with their exams by keeping them in a good mood! It's all about attitude, baby."

She snatched her arm out of his grasp and gave him a wry, scathing look. "You helped them?"

"Well, sort of. I just lent them a pair of magic Boogie Woogie Briefs a couple days ago that my sis' gave me last Christmas."

"Boogie Woogie Briefs? A pair of enchanted underwear?" She tapped a finger against her lip in thought. "And only a few days? Recreating a spell like that with only the material object normally takes weeks..."

"I know, right? They're really-"

"I can't believe you, Jake!" she snapped. "You're supposed to be keeping a low profile!"

Jake crossed his arms as they walked, dreading the ring of wooden stands in the distance. "Yeah, well Quidditch kind of ruined that plan. Maybe if someone had told me ahead of time that I could actually use a broomstick-"

"And I'm just supposed to know that, am I?"

"Hey, you're the brains of this outfit."

She smiled and shook her head. "How many times did I say that you might be able to do more than Old Magic? Now that we know you can fly-"

"Old news, yo."

"-just think what else you might be able to do!" She squinted up at the sky, biting her lip and lost in thought. Jake rolled his eyes and continued leading the way down the sloping fields towards the Black Lake, passing the fork in the path that led to the Quidditch pitch. "Uh, Jake? We need to go-"

"I know, I know," he waved her off. "We're taking a little detour."

She flicked her wrist out and checked her watch. "Well we don't have much time, your practice starts in-"

"Don't say it." Jake cringed at the unsettling churning of his stomach. They reached the point where the path began to lead sharply downward toward the shore of the Lake, but Jake stopped along the edge of the incline and gazed toward the towering cliff that Hogwarts rested upon.

He threw an arm over Hermione's shoulder and pointed toward the cliff face. "Believe it or not, I didn't help Fred and George out with their prank just to mess with Umbridge. I've gotta grab some supplies from the Den for them, and since you're here I was even thinking you could tag along. But hey, if you'd rather go straight to the Quidditch field..."

"The Den?" She gaped in the direction of the cave, blinking repeatedly. "Where you lived? But I thought we weren't allowed, that Dumbledore had put some sort of ward in place?"

"Pft, the dude skipped town a week ago, Hermione. Whatever hokus-pokus he did is probably long gone." Jake stepped away from her and turned his focus inward until he felt the pool of warmth at his core. He gradually let the energy seep into his hands, and streaks of fire burst over the skin of his arms in scorching waves. Jake drew his hands close to his chest and relished the power he now so rarely had license to use before releasing it all in one consuming wave of blazing heat. "Dragon UP!"

A few seconds passed where his mind felt disjointed and lost in burning euphoria before he stood taller and breathed with larger, more powerful lungs. Jake stretched in the daylight and shook with the adrenaline coursing through his body. "Oh baby, that's what I'm SAYIN'!"

Hermione watched skeptically, tapping a finger against her chin. "If Old Magic doesn't require any incantations, then why do you say 'Dragon Up' when you transform?"

"Because I'm awesome, quit killing the mood." He bent down closer to her level and held out his arms. "So are you coming or what?"

She looked like she was about to argue, but instead tucked a hair behind her ear and gave him a uncharacteristically crooked smile. "The school's already caught up with the statues, and it'd be a shame to waste the opportunity...why not?"

"I actually think I might be having a bad influence on you," Jake laughed as she stepped forward. He carefully lifted her sideways, tucking one arm beneath the crook of her knees and setting the other below her back. Familiar tingling danced across his scales, and he fought to ignore the sweat beading on his forehead as he lifted her off the ground and extended his wings. "Welcome, and thank you for choosing American Airlines for your travelling needs. As we prepare for takeoff, please locate your nearest emergency exit, stow all luggage, and return seats and tray tables to their upright positions."

Hermione chuckled in his arms. "Oh get on with it, would yo-ooOOH!"

She instinctively curled toward his chest and latched her arms around his neck as he launched into the air. The jagged cliff face curved to the side as Jake angled toward the Dragon's Den, enjoying the wind streaming over his spine. "Sit back and relax, Hermione. We'll be there before you know it!"

Her face slid up an inch and she yelled through her billowing hair, "I really think I'd feel safer on your back next time, if it's all the same!"

"Not a horse, Hermione!" Keeping close to the rock face and hopefully out of sight of the castle towers, Jake sped onward until the small dock and accompanying boathouse came into view. A large cave sat carved in the overhang just before the ravine that ran beneath the school, a grotto set far out of reach of any curious, foot-bound students. Jake carefully ducked below its entrance and flew well into the tunnel's black depths until they arrived at the central chamber.

Dust kicked up around them as he landed and eased Hermione to her feet. "Dirty, cold, and smells like feet. It's like we never left."

She stumbled forward and felt around with cautious motions. "It's a bit darker than I'd imagined. How are you supposed to find anything? Where's my wand..."

"Oh, right! My bad." Jake looked up and spat a sizzling fireball at the dangling brass chandelier. The ornament rocked and creaked in the shower of sparks, the caught candles lighting the room in a soft glow. "Forgot about the whole 'not-having-night-vision' thing. Better?"

"Much," Hermione whispered admiringly, approaching the large round table at the center of the stone dome. She followed its curve, moving between the oversized chairs as she ran her fingers through the film of dust that covered its surface. "It's all so plain. Where do the smaller tunnels lead?"

"Bedrooms and stuff. I'm just gonna see what I can find and then we can get outta here, cool?" Jake slipped down his own tunnel, uncertain why he suddenly felt so uneasy in his former home, and brushed into his old room. As expected, he found it unchanged and empty but for the enormous pad he'd used as a bed and a few papers scattered on the floor. He scrounged through the scant garbage and searched every crevice, but there wasn't a trace of any of his former belongings.

"Of course, the one time I actually clean. Looks like it's up to you, Nerk." Jake sped back out into the corridor and toward Fred's room, shying away from the other doors he passed and the way they made his stomach churn. Fred's door stood slightly open, and the vacant interior was nearly identical to his own room. A few yellow scales and a long rotten apple were all that remained of the Australian Dragon's stay.

Jake kicked aside the trash and reached for the bedding. "Come on, Fred, work with me here. I know you left something; give me a confetti-cracker, a magic stink bomb, some invisible soap..."

He flipped over the mattress pad and nearly cheered. A shallow groove sat carved in the floor with a plain brown box nestled inside. Jake eagerly turned it over in his large hands and slid a claw beneath the lip of the lid. "Please be something good, please be something good..."

The cardboard top popped off, and a white tag fell out in a flurry of packing scraps. Bending down to pick it up, Jake had to squint to read the lines of absurdly tiny legal type. "Pyro-Providers Inc. is not responsible for any burns, breaks, blazes, or blasts resulting from the use of this product..."

It felt like the box had spontaneously doubled in weight in Jake's hand. Fighting his trepidation and trying not to breathe directly over the box, he plunged his claws into the rest of the paper scraps and pulled out a round cardboard tube. Its wrapping was striped and multicolored, and it looked almost like a toy kaleidoscope without any lenses. Yet as decorative as it was, he could make no sense of the surreptitious object held in his claws until he noticed a wick dangling from one of its ends with a pack of accompanying matches taped to its side.

"Hold up...this kinda looks like..." Jake started flinging away the rest of the packaging. Joy bubbled in his chest as he found dozens of more tubes innocently piled together like Lincoln Logs, some with rocket fins and others with cone shaped heads.

"HERMIONE!" Jake slapped the lid firmly back on his volatile prize, appreciating just how seriously the Australian Dragon took his hobbies. "This is insane, I so owe you one Nerk. Hermione! Where are you?"

There was no response. The package tucked beneath his arm, Jake slid back into the corridor and followed the flickering candle light back to the central chamber, only to find that Hermione was no where in sight. He paced around the edge of the room and peered down the door-lined corridors, but he couldn't look at any of them for long before the back of his throat began to burn. Memories of the people that had once shared the Den with him seeped into his thoughts until his mind felt thick and his focus waned.

Did Haley and Nerk miss him? Were his parents worried? It had been months since he'd left on New Year's eve, what if Trix and Spud had given up on him? Jake thought back to how he refused Stout's offer to send his family a letter before boarding the train to Hogwarts. At the time it had seemed like the safest thing to do, but now the thought made him feel like he'd swallowed a boulder. Annoyed by the sudden remorse, Jake growled and shook his head. "Marco? Ollie ollie oxen free? For real, Hermione, you're creeping me out here!"

A half-laughing voice echoed down from one of the corridors. "Is that you Jake? I'm here!"

"Couldn't sit still for two minutes," Jake mumbled, gliding down the most foreboding of the tunnels. He reached the door at the end and moved to push it open, focused on the box held beneath his arm and the nagging despair stubbornly clinging to his mind. "I'm sick of this place, Hermione. Let's-"

His throat clenched and ensnared the rest of his thought. At the center of the chamber lit by soft blue wand light, Hermione stood above a low tea table with an old newspaper in her hand. She smiled at the article with melancholy affection, the only emotion in a room that was otherwise as barren as the rest of the Den.

Her gaze drifted to where Jake stood rigid in the doorway. "Sorry, I thought I might have time to look around. This was the Daily Prophet they issued right after that Quidditch game where Harry fell. The writing is abysmal, but I always liked the photo."

"You shouldn't be in here." Jake's hands furled and unfurled as he stepped beside her and took the paper from her confused grasp. Dragons Cause Disaster at Quidditch Pitch, a slanted retelling that Jake remembered vividly and even now made steam rise from his nostrils. The black and white picture beside the article showed the playing field from the view of the stands, warping and shifting as as the crowd cheered for the figures flying above them. Jake could see Johnson tearing down the field, Dominic charging after her, Sun swaying in front of her rings, a Blue Serpent twisting to strike a passing Bludger...

"Is something wrong?" Hermione looked up at him with concern, the blue light from her wand glaring off of the whites of her eyes. "You look upset."

Jake turned away and walked out of the room. "I'll be better once we're out of here, c'mon." He couldn't bear to look back at the hallways filled with dangerous memories, but the patter of shoes on a dirt floor told him Hermione was following close behind him.

They were passing through the central chamber when she fell into step beside him, her hands clasped in front of her. "I'm sorry, Jake. I should have asked before wandering around. You're mad at me, aren't you?"

His maw crumpled into a half-smile. "Mad at you? No way. Trust me, you'll know it if I'm ever mad at you."

Her pace slowed as they moved around another bend in the tunnel. Dim strands of light were just beginning to appear ahead of them. "Then what is it? What's wrong?"

Jake couldn't see her where she'd fallen behind him, and it was probably for the better. He knew what he wanted to get off of his chest, but he wasn't sure if he'd finally have the guts to say it. "I think this was a mistake...coming back to Hogwarts, I mean."

He stopped walking and bowed his head, his eyes drifting to the black claws of his feet. Hermione said nothing and a steady thum...thum...thum pounded in his head, pushing him past his reservations. "I never really mentioned it before, but I wasn't supposed to come here. I mean it's kind of obvious, the Ministry hates the Dragons and we don't trust the wizards. No one would ever be down with it, but Dumbledore came and asked me in person. What was I supposed to do, say no? After all the stuff that went down last year?"

The pounding came more quickly, and Jake scowled at the floor. He hated the excuses as they came out of his mouth, and his anger turned to disgust. "I didn't even tell my family. I didn't tell anyone. I just left. It's not like I liked it, but they would have tried to stop me, you know? I thought I was doing the right thing. It was kinda rough back home and all I could think about was how much better it'd be if...if I wasn't around."

Thum...Thum...Thum...

Jake could feel himself flushing beneath his scales, still turned away from a silent Hermione. Every part of him was screaming to shut up, but if he didn't say it now he knew he never would. "I think I'm mad at myself, and maybe homesick, and maybe scared. But the thing is, there's only a couple weeks left before we all go home and I don't know what I'm going to do. Just show up at my place and play it off like nothing happened? What if they blame you guys and we never get to see each other again?"

They'll find out it was Dumbledore. They'll know Benjy helped. Game over.

THUM...THUM...THUM...

Jake swallowed hard against the clenching in this throat. "Y'all are all my friends, and...well...I don't know what's going to happen, but no matter what I'm glad I got to hang with you, Hermione. And I...I..."

THUM-THUM-THUM-

He spun and yelled, "And I just want you to know that I think I really like you and...and...Hermione?"

A few feet further back in the tunnel, Hermione stood waving her arms around and mouthing silent words at him like a mime at Central Park. She raised a hand and swung it in front of her, and Jake flinched as it struck the thin air with a louder THUM and a burst of white light that radiated out to the cave walls.

"Say what?" Jake walked forward just opposite her and stuck his arm out, but it slid harmlessly right past the invisible barrier that held Hermione captive. She cocked her head before pointing to Jake and holding her arm out straight. She grabbed it her other hand and made a jerking motion toward the barrier, watching Jake expectantly. After a moment of deliberation and wondering whether it was this frustrating when everyone tried to interpret his own silence, he understood her meaning.

"Pull you?" he mouthed with exaggeration, and she nodded back. "If you say so," he cringed, reaching through the barrier and clasping her forearm. Carefully, he dragged her forward and the transparent wall shimmered for a moment, but she passed through it as smoothly as if it were fog.

"Amazing," she marveled, looking back at the once again formless barrier. "That must be Dumbledore's protective charm! I'm guessing only Dragons and the people they escort can pass through it. It even captures sound, how peculiar..."

Her casual air didn't help ease Jake's tumultuous nerves. "First time I've ever seen it. So...about what I was saying..."

"Normally you never would. We didn't even notice it when we came in, probably because you were already carrying me." She reached out and conjured the murky wall with a tap of her finger, as if ensuring it hadn't disappeared completely. "So what were you about to say, about what's wrong? I didn't hear anything after you walked through the ward."

"You didn't..." Jake's ears perked up. Given the magical nature of his clientele, Jake had no real experience in dealing with typical firearms. Even so, he was almost certain that this was what it felt like to dodge a bullet, and the uncanny fortune had him reeling.

"No time, I'll tell you later. I'm supposed to be at the field, remember?" And watching Harry, man I'm really slipping today. He took the box from beneath his arm and handed it to her. "We can fly the rest of the way, but can you do me a favor?"

She looked over her new package uncertainly, still staring at him with lingering concern. After rattling the box in her hands and listening to the rustling sound, however, her curiosity gave way to affronted displeasure. "This is what you came to get for Fred and George, isn't it?"

"Focus, girl." Jake lowered his arms and beckoned her forward. With a resigned sigh, she allowed him to cradle her like earlier. He turned toward the cave exit and twitched his wings in preparation. "Now, favor time. You in or out?"

She squinted up at him. "I get the feeling I don't really have a choice. It's nothing dangerous, right?"

Jake genuinely thought about that. "You should, uh...try not to drop the box."

Titan...Phoebe...Tethas...Mimas...

Who wants to see me take off Snivellus's trousers?

Harry smacked the book against his forehead. He could feel a welt forming over the spot, though it was hardly surprising. Every time the memory resurfaced he would beat it down, literally, only to have it rear its ugly head again sooner or later. Concentrating on the throbbing soreness and the now constant burning of his scar, he flipped open the textbook and stared back at the planetary diagrams.

Mimas...Rhea...Encela-

"Brilliant it was, absolutely brilliant!" Lee Jordan fell into the bench beside him, wheezing with laughter. "I never knew Flitwick was so light on his feet!"

"Or Umbridge, for that matter, what with her flabby little stump legs and all." Fred and George passed by and sat on Harry's other side, George picking up Harry's pile of review material to make room and dumping it unceremoniously at their feet. "Shame McGonagall finally stepped in."

"She took her sweet time, though," Fred added, leaning in towards Harry. "What about you, Harry? Enjoy the unveiling of the new Hogwarts Dancing Affiliate? Might have to think on the name, though. Keeping track of two DA's would get messy."

"Er, yeah," Harry mumbled. "Sounds good."

He knew from their confused stares that he'd said something strange. Why they were talking about professors dancing was beyond him, but between his split attention and troubled thoughts he really didn't care. Whatever it was must have been popular; he could see the few students arriving to watch the practice roaring with shared amusement just like Lee and the twins.

"Fred, George." Hermione appeared behind them with a shoebox-like package in her arms. She briskly placed it in George's surprised lap and folded her arms with a disgusted expression. "From John."

Fred snatched it eagerly. "Well we do love gifts. What's in it?"

"I don't know and I don't care," she answered stiffly, shoving herself between Harry and Lee on his other side. "How are things, Harry?"

"I'm fine," he snapped, softening when he realized how harsh he'd sounded. "Just...exams and stuff, you know."

She looked unconvinced, but was stopped from prying by Fred and George's combined shouts of, "BLIMEY!"

Harry flinched and looked over to see the two of them staring at each other in gaping wonder with their hands clamped tightly over the box's lid. Other than a couple strands of loose paper shreds, Harry could see nothing of whatever was hidden inside.

"No!" Fred whispered.

"Yes!" George sneered maniacally.

"NO!" Fred cackled.

"YES!" George insisted.

Lee looked between them. "Wait, what is it?"

They jumped to their feet in unison. "Remind us, Hermione," George said, "to thank that speechless miracle-worker later."

"We're off to work. We sure know how to pick our investments, eh George?" Box in hand, Fred hurtled along the line of benches with George in tow, and the two disappeared down the nearest set of stairs.

Lee chased after them. "Hang on, what's in the bloody box?!"

"I'll have nothing to do with this!" Hermione called to their backs as they vanished. She rolled her eyes and sat back down with a huff. "I wish John wouldn't encourage them, someone's going to end up getting hurt."

Harry sighed and closed his book. "Relax, Hermione. It's only Fred and George doing what they always do. And I'm sure John-"

"There he is!" She gripped his shoulder and pointed down to the field where the players were filing out onto the grass. Ron stomped out in front and swung onto his broom, flying off toward the goal hoops. The others took their time with John and Johnson in the back, the latter barking out advice while the former yanked and tugged at his overlarge robes. When the players gathered together and took to the sky, he fumbled the broomstick beneath his legs and lumbered off of the ground in short, jarring leaps.

"Well I suppose he could be doing worse," she said with feigned confidence.

"They'll be fine," Harry agreed, only to be rebuffed as Ron missed his first in what he anticipated would be another long routine of painful catches. Comparatively, classes now seemed much less torturous. Harry picked up the next of his textbooks, flipped to the chapter on Complex Organic Transmaterialization, and tried to recall the incantation for turning a snake into a party balloon.

The team went through their drills and formations, and Hermione's tense commentary slowly faded. She seemed perfectly unconcerned when the sun had fallen to the horizon and the Bludgers were being summoned back to the chest, and the players themselves had even fallen into cheerful banter on the walk back to the castle. Harry stood apart from the lively group, caged in his own world by the circling thoughts that replayed over and over like a broken record.

You're always good for a bit of fun, Snivellus.

The shame and guilt he felt were beyond any humiliation he'd ever endured. It was like being told that the moon was fake, that gravity didn't exist. Had he ever been that way too? Just another Dudley, another Malfoy?

You're a creep, Potter. You know that, right?

It was impossible to digest. Maybe that's why he couldn't stop thinking about it, because deep down it was simply unacceptable. He'd seen it with his own eyes, but what if it wasn't true? What if it was a cruel jab by Snape? Then again, his reaction had left little doubt in Harry's mind. There was no mistaking that blind rage mingled with unbridled terror, the lashing out of a man who had found his deepest nightmares laid bare.

Nice one, Prongs!

Thank you, Padfoot.

"Sirius."

Harry's inkwell toppled over as he jerked up in his seat, yet he failed to notice the steady black trickle. As incriminating as it was, Harry needed more before he would cast aside the memory of his parents. There were other witnesses he could corroborate it with, one of which he trusted about as much as Dumbledore himself. One problem remained, of course: how could he possibly get in touch with Sirius?

"Padfoot, Harry," Hermione urged beside him. "And what about him?"

"I need to talk with him." Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, his thoughts a garbled mess. "Umbridge is watching the post and the fireplaces, so we can't use mail or the Floo network without her finding him. He can't come to Hogsmeade...I bet Dobby would take him a letter if I asked him!"

"Harry, why do you-"

"Wait, that won't work," he grumbled. "Dobby won't be able to find Grimmauld Place, he's never been there before. Now that I think about it, does the Fidelius Charm even work on House Elves?"

Hermione looked bewildered. "Well I think it ought to, but I haven't actually-"

"Mr. Weasley! Ron can send him a letter to give to-"

Hermione jabbed her wand and Harry's tongue flopped out of his mouth, limp and numb. He glared at her. "Bwa wad fa fer?"

She flicked her eyes around accusingly, and he realized just how foolish he was to think their conversation was private. The tables scattered around them in the dark library were filled with students absorbed in their exam studies. Susan Bones sat beneath a tower of textbooks that teetered dangerously, John was only a few chairs away scribbling over his leather notebook, and Neville was asleep in the corner, a trail of drool dripping across the ream of parchment below his cheek.

"Why do you want to want to talk to Padfoot so badly?" Hermione whispered.

Harry's forehead surged with pain again and he eased himself back into his chair, rubbing a hand over his scar. "Nuffing, I...ugh." He pointed a finger from his free hand at his mouth. Hermione grudgingly undid her curse. "I just have some questions for him is all. By the way, where's Ron?"

She observed him for an uncomfortable amount of time, her expression stoic and unconvinced. "You don't remember? He said he was going to bed after dinner."

Harry idly flipped through his now thoroughly stained papers, cringing at his building migraine. "Oh, right."

Hermione shoved the papers aside and leaned closer over the table. "You're still having the dreams. No, don't try and deny it, Harry, I can tell! You are trying to stop them, aren't you?"

"Because they're such a lovely experience," Harry derided, feeling his focus slipping away. Even now behind his clenched eyelids, he could see himself drifting through endless shelves filled with radiant blue orbs. Whispers reached through the murky darkness, urging him further in. He was so close...

"It's too risky trying to contact Padfoot," Hermione persisted. "You'll just have to wait. In the mean time, what you need are more lessons from Snape."

Harry turned away from her suffocating attention and picked at the pale scars on the back of his hand. The skin had never completely returned to normal, and his pride of earning the physical testament to Umbridge's disdain had long since turned to a vengeful ire. It brought back the memory of the overbearing perfume that permeated her office, the frilly doilies that dotted her furniture, the ridiculous kitten-laden decorations that lined her walls and framed her fireplace...

Umbridge's fireplace...

"Harry?" Hermione made him flinch with a snap of her fingers. "You didn't hear anything I just said, did you?"

"No, I did," he said quickly. "It's just...er...I'm pretty tired. Think I'm going to head up and call it a night. You coming?"

She sighed dramatically. "Can't, I've still got to review half the semester's translations for Ancient Runes and outline the chapter on the uses of Flobberworms for Potions."

Harry nodded and left, only vaguely aware of Hermione's response. His fevered mind was distracted, fixated solely on exploiting the one possible loophole he could think of. The night of Dumbledore's escape, Umbridge had openly confessed to the Ministry monitoring the school's fireplaces for just the kind of covert communication Harry so desperately desired. Even attempting it could reveal Sirius's location, a secret that his very life depended upon.

It only now occurred to Harry, however, that there was one fireplace that would be under no such surveillance. After all, if Umbridge and the Ministry were all watching the students, then who was left to watch Umbridge?

The only part remaining, then, was how to access what was now the second most well protected office in Hogwarts. Fortunately, Harry didn't have to look far for his answer the next morning.

"So what do you think?"

In the shadow of the One-Eyed Witch's statue, Fred and George exchanged thoughtful looks with each other. With every second that passed, Harry, who had fully anticipated their support, could feel his spirits dwindling.

"Well..." George hesitated, scratching his chin. "It won't be easy. Since students have started playing pranks nearly every day-"

"Particularly two devilishly handsome students," Fred added.

"-Umbridge has been leaving professors to sort things out. She almost never leaves her office anymore."

Fred smiled a crooked grin. "It would take something..."

"Spectacular?" George offered with his own knowing smile.

"I was thinking more sensational."

Harry looked between them. "Er, am I missing something?"

Fred snickered. "Not at all. We'll drag the hag out for you, don't worry."

"Give us a week or so and you'll have all the time you need." The two of them slid out from behind the statue and walked off down the hallway, George calling back, "Sit back until then, and give our hopeless brother our well-wishes!"

In less than a minute, Harry had gone from being elated by their participation, to disappointed over the time table, to baffled by their departure. "Wait!" he stumbled. "Your well-wishes for what?"

Instead of a snarky explanation, it was Harry's arrival at the Great Hall that finally revealed his lapse in thought. The enormous hall was filled with an excited student body decorated in copious amounts of red and blue clothing, noise makers, banners, and makeup. Not a soul was still in bed this morning, and before long the crowd would relocate en mass to the wooden stands down the hill.

Today, one house was going to win the Quidditch Cup.

Harry found Ron and rushed to his side. "Ron! I completely forgot, how are..."

The depressed, moping friend that Harry had come to expect was instead a healthy, beaming Ron Weasley, who sat voraciously digging into an enormous plate of eggs and sausage. He nodded at Harry's arrival and shoveled another spoonful of greasy food into his mouth. "Mpf...mornin', 'Arry."

"Wow." Harry did a double take. "You're sure in a good mood. I thought you'd be a bit more...tense?"

Harry waited for Ron to finish off a cup of juice and wipe his face off on his sleeve. "Yeah, s'pose I was," he said. "But I was thinking about it last night after practice, and I realized - I can't get any worse, can I?" He reached out, snatched a piece of toast, and bit off a corner.

"Besides..." He flicked his head further down the table with an immensely satisfied grin. "I'm not the joke of the team anymore."

Harry followed his motion and found John, his head face-down on a silver plate with Angelina and Ginny engaged in hushed conversation above him. He sat there motionless, the green tips of his hair slowly dipping further into a dish of marmalade.

Before Harry could comment, bells chimed over their heads. Benches scraped on cue, and Harry and Ron stood to join the flow of students vacating the hall. Moving with the procession was simple, and Ron spent the walk to the pitch on casual, lighthearted conversation. His new optimism was certainly an improvement, yet Harry couldn't help but feel oddly guilty for John, who paced sluggishly behind them with the rest of the team.

The time came when they split between the stands and changing rooms, and Harry wished the team luck before climbing the stairs to the seats above. The platforms in front were already filled to bursting, and Harry tried to decide which row of seats would obscure his view the most and spare him the sight of his team being annihilated.

"Psstt! Harry!"

He swiveled around at hearing the gruff voice and found Hagrid leaning out from one of the nearby tunnels, his scrunched posture doing little to hide his massive body. Hagrid beckoned him over, waving his hand and making urgent little grunting sounds.

Harry stepped closer. "Hagrid, what are you-"

"Hurry now, quick!" He clasped Harry on the shoulder and steered him to his side. "Good lad. Now, where's - ah! Psst! Pssssst! Hermione! Come...here...!"

From out of Harry's view, Hermione appeared around the corner and was dragged by Hagrid to his side. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Harry? What's this about?"

Harry looked up at the half-giant. "Yeah, Hagrid, what is this about?"

"Nothin', nothin'," he said, fidgeting with his hands and looking around nervously. "I got somethin' ter show the two a ya is all. Now, while everyone's watching the game."

Harry looked him over, noting the myriad of bruises in various colors marking his skin. "Alright, Hagrid. Show us. What is it?"

"Not here, no." He gestured toward the stairs. "It's out a bit, just a ways into the forest. You'll see, it's no trouble. No trouble at all."

"But Hagrid, we-"

Hermione's objection was lost in the first, great cheer from the crowd, and Hagrid hurriedly guided them away and out of the stadium. Happy to be out of sight of the coming disaster, Harry followed diligently as Hagrid led the two of them farther down the sloping lawns, past his cobblestone hut, and up to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Isn't this dangerous, Hagrid?" Hermione said.

"Yer with me, aren't ya?" he laughed. The gamekeeper paused at the treeline, bent down where a crossbow leaned against a trunk, and hefted it up into his arms. "This way, then."

He stepped into the overgrowth as a loud crunching sound echoed through the foliage and a flock of birds took flight in the distance.

Hermione looked alarmingly pale. "Oh dear."

"On me, same as last time!" Angelina Johnson yelled over her shoulder.

The Quaffle tucked beneath her arm, she charged down the field with Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet off to her sides while Jake and Jack Sloper brought up the rear. Jake's arm was aching from the weight of the bat, and his thighs burned from having to balance on the broom between his legs. He missed his wings terribly, and was acutely reminded of why he'd always hated riding bikes. I swear, the dude that thought this was the best way of flying had some serious issues.

"DUCK!" Katie shouted.

A Bludger from Ravenclaw split their formation in two. Sloper, whose reflexes rivaled those of a three-legged sloth, took the enchanted boulder to the chest and spun away with his arms clenched over his ribs.

Their ranks returned to file and pressed on. The roaring crowd and blaring Sun were making Jake feel nauseous, and he tried to focus on all of the advice his team had given him. Always keep a hand on the broom, don't choke the handle, squeeze your legs if you start to roll, keep your mouth closed or you'll get bugs in your teeth-

One of the Ravenclaw Chasers, Davies, rocketed up through their group and knocked Johnson into a deep pitch. She hurled the Quaffle back up to Katie, who just managed to pass it off again to Alicia before being sideswiped by Bradley, another Ravenclaw Chaser.

Alicia soared ahead toward the Ravenclaw hoops with a Beater and Chaser hot on her tail. Jake found the nearest Bludger, rocketing around the field only a short distance away, and careened after it at full speed. He lifted his bat and cracked it against the Bludger, sending it flying straight at Alicia's pursuers.

"Johnson and Bell are down, and Spinnet's headed straight for the goalposts!" The Lee Jordan kid's voice reverberated throughout the stadium, hoarse from yelling for what Jake now felt must have been hours. "Samuels and Chambers have nearly got her, they're - OOH!"

The crowd cringed as Jake's Bludger slammed into Chambers between his shoulder blades, sending him spiraling into Samuels and throwing them both off course. Jake punched his fist into the air. Now THAT'S what I call killing two birds with one stone!

"Brilliant Bludger from Long, and Spinnet's in the clear!" Jordan called over the applause. "She's lining up the shot, she swerves out, Page goes for the dive, and it's good! Ten points for Gryffindor!"

A loud DING tolled out over the swell of Gryffindor chants. Jake rallied with the others near the mid-line of the field as Ravenclaw retrieved the Quaffle, looking for his next Bludger. Their blue opponents grouped together and began their approach as the Gryffindor team arrayed in their defensive positions.

Johnson was the first to jet out, yelling, "Here they come!" Jake and Sloper kept near the hoops while the Chasers launched out like crimson bullets, striking into the heart of the enemy team. Katie and Johnson managed to sandwich Chambers between them when Samuels shoved Katie out of line. Johnson jabbed him away before a Bludger struck the tail of her broom and threw her into a dive.

"Ravenclaw return the favor and Johnson's out! Alicia looks to snatch the Quaffle but Bradley passes to Davies and he's on to the goals!"

Davies escaped from the scuffle and leaned low into his broom. Sloper found a Bludger and actually managed to make contact with it, but the warbling little thing curved far too wide and Davies was at the goals within seconds. Only Ron remained to bar his path.

Instead of the preemptive groans that Jake had come to expect, the red-clad spectators rose into a drumming chant.

Weas-ley! Weas-ley! Weas-ley!

With a sharp reversal, Davies faked to the leftmost hoop and chucked the Quaffle at the center. Ron agilely mirrored his movements and caught the ball with a flourish, waving it high in the air to the roar of the crowd.

WEAS-LEY! WEAS-LEY! WEAS-LEY!

Jake grinned and rolled his eyes. Show off.

"Another spectacular catch by Weasley!" Lee Jordan bellowed. "That leaves Gryffindor leading 170 to 20 points, incredible!"

Katie retrieved the Quaffle and signaled for them all to meet for another offensive formation. "One more and we're clear of the Snitch!" she said. "I'll take point!"

They all powered forward without hesitation, eager to secure their victory. Considering he'd started off only concerned with keeping his promise with Fred and George without drawing any attention, Jake felt overwhelmed with the euphoria of their imminent victory.

The sudden blaring of Jordan's voice made Jake's heart skip a beat. "Hang on, I think they've found it! Yes! There they go, and it looks like Chang's in the lead!"

Jake swiveled his head and found the two blurs of Ginny and Cho streaking around the bottom edge of the stadium, mere inches off of the ground with a stream of dust following their wake. Cho had her arm extended toward a tiny fleck of gold, and Ginny was slowly making up the distance when her broom shuddered and the end tipped into the ground. Her flaming red hair splayed out as she tumbled to the ground, her broom bouncing away over the grass.

"GO, GO, GO!" Johnson roared as Chambers and Davies both dove into their ranks. Their formation splintered and Katie rocketed forward alone, her robes flapping wildly in the wind. Jake's chest was pounding as he followed as quickly as he could.

There was a split second of a high-pitched, garbled noise, and he instinctively ducked. The Bludger grazed the tips of his hair and continued on toward Katie. She turned her head at its approach a second too late, and the Bludger smashed into her shoulder and sent the Quaffle flying. Alicia appeared from behind and grabbed it from the air, but Bradley and Samuels were only feet behind her. She ducked and swerved, but couldn't stop her pursuers from gaining on her. They slammed into both sides of her, trapping all three of them in a mangled flying heap of flailing limbs and broomsticks.

Jake watched helplessly from above. There were no Bludgers for him to hit and no teammates to help Alicia. Below, Cho was making another round around the scaffolding, her fingers practically touching the Snitch. They only had seconds left. What do I do, what do I do...

The mass of players shifted and Alicia appeared below, dangling upside down with the Quaffle in her hands. Still a ways from the hoops, she cocked her arm back and threw the ball with all of her might at the nearest goal.

It's never going to make it. Desperate, Jake shot out towards the falling maroon ball. He lifted his feet free of his broom's metal stirrups and planted them sideways on the handle like he was riding a skateboard. The Ravenclaw Keeper Page had come out to catch the Quaffle, but squealed and covered his head as Jake got there first, his bat raised in both hands.

There wasn't time to think or breathe. Jake grit his teeth and swung.

His arms shook as he sent the Quaffle flying with a loud THWACK. As he fell back against his broom, Jake watched the ball soar in an arc with an unnatural lethargy. The world had fallen silent, and he waited. The Quaffle came level with a hoop and, with cartoonish grace, just barely tipped through its ring.

A loud DING rang out, and at the same time Madam Hooch blew her shrill silver whistle. Cho floated near the Gryffindor goalposts, gasping and holding the caught Golden Snitch high for all to see.

Everyone looked toward the announcer's booth, where Lee Jordan was nearly in hysterics. "That was...Bloody Hell...Long scores ten points for Gryffindor, and Chang catches the Golden Snitch, giving Ravenclaw 150 points!"

Jake felt like his mind was floating. So that means-

"THE MATCH ENDS 180 POINTS TO 170! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!"

The eruption of cheers was deafening, and Jake wasn't completely aware of the following celebration. From students streaming the field and players hugging mid air, he couldn't process the flood of information. He vaguely recalled being hoisted with the others on the shoulders of Gryffindor House, as well as their parade-like procession back to the common room. Even the portraits on the walls of Gryffindor Tower joined in the festivity when they arrived.

Jake's elation drowned out all of his other nagging worries. New York and Stout were the farthest things from his mind, and his ecstasy only grew as Hermione and Harry appeared soon after in the entrance tunnel.

"What's all this?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Harry! Hermione!" Ron called from the center of the crowd of partying students. "We did it! We won!"

Their curious expressions shifted into dumbstruck excitement. "I can't believe it!" Hermione shouted.

"Neither can we!" Fred and George called from their seats by the fireplace.

Harry drifted towards Ron while Hermione found Jake at the edge of the celebration. Her clothes were exceptionally dirty, and there were twigs and leaves stuck in her robes and entwined in her hair. She laughed and threw her arms around him, and the same swell of warmth spread over Jake's skin. Only now, his former apprehension was a long distant memory.

"This is wonderful, you'll have to tell me all about it!" She looked around and continued in a whisper, "But first we need to talk. Hagrid took Harry and I into the forest during the match, and-"

Jake eagerly gave in to impulse and leaned in. Hermione's speech cut off abruptly, and her lips melded perfectly against his. The surge of heat that he'd anticipated, however, never came, and something felt...off. Their kiss was strangely cold and distant.

Hermione pulled away and took a step back. She put a hand over her mouth in sudden understanding, but she couldn't hide the blush in her cheeks or the shock in her eyes. Jake saw then just how differently they'd envisioned their relationship. He realized he'd done something wrong.

"Oh...!"

Oh...

"OI!"

Ron's shout pierced through the commotion and threw the room into silence. He flushed even more brilliantly than Hermione as he shoved his way through the body of students and stomped toward them. "JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK-"

Jake didn't hear the rest of it. Refusing to look at anyone, he kept his head down and moved to the entrance tunnel, pushing open the Fat Lady's portrait and escaping down the marble stairs. He walked without direction, wanting only to leave that common room and the people within it as far behind as possible. Maybe if he went far enough, he'd manage to leave the shame behind this time.

Ron's rage chased him down the staircase. "That's right, you'd better run you tosspot!"

And that's it for this installment! I'm hoping to finish this year, but it probably won't happen. Please review or PM if you enjoyed the content, and make sure to follow for future updates!