A/N: Thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I'm glad that people have been enjoying it. And a special thanks to Bonnie and Mainsail for beta reading this and thus improving on the original. If you have questions or concerns about what's going on, feel free to include them in a review or a PM — I'll try to answer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.

Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "Weary Wizard" by Yunaine. Completely disgusted with the attitudes of so many wizards and witches — especially those in Hogwarts — Harry decides against teaching the Defense Association. Hermione reluctantly agrees, then learns that the situation is even worse than she had realized. H/Hr.

Chapter 20 - Eye of the Tiger

Saturday, September 26, 1995, Afternoon.

Jasmine and Hermione had been eager for their first session with Professor Flitwick, and not just for the sake of training. Even before they'd left Professor McGonagall's office, they revealed to him the secret of their soul bond. They weren't lucky enough to catch him while he was drinking something, but they would have felt bad if they'd kept delaying it. Like McGonagall, he congratulated them both and promised to help them where he could.

Once they arrived at the training area, Flitwick tested them on their use of the previous spells they'd learned under his tutelage rather than starting right out with new spells. He even made a point of using simulated combat conditions by conjuring pigs which were supposed to substitute for Death Eaters. The pigs didn't fight back, but they did run around, then bleed and cry out when they were hit, thus replicating some of the conditions of a real fight. It was disturbing, to say the least, but now that they had both been in real fights, they understood the value of learning how to cast under such conditions, however unpleasant.

Outwardly Flitwick looked as calm and matter-of-fact as ever as he watched his students, but they could tell by the grim set of his jaw that he wasn't enjoying this necessity any more than they were.

"Remember," Flitwick said as they wrapped up as dinner approached, "the more you train, the more automatic your moves will be. Being even a fraction of a second faster than your opponent can mean the difference between life and death. So can casting with just a bit more accuracy or power. Since you'll likely be fighting enemies who have decades more experience than you do, you'll need every edge you can get."

Both girls nodded. Last term when he gave speeches like this, they'd believed him, of course, but it lacked a certain immediacy for them. Now, though, the truth of his words was all too vividly apparent.

Before they finally left, Jasmine made the mistake of asking, "Professor Flitwick, how come you decided not to train us by dueling against us yourself?" Hermione didn't recognize the nature of the mistake any more than Jasmine did, though both became aware that something was amiss when they saw the feral grin that spread across Flitwick's face.

"Think you're ready to face me, do you?" the diminutive professor asked. "Fine, we'll try a duel: both of you against me. In light of how hard I've already worked you, I promise to go easy on you both. Let's say... I'll just limit myself to the sorts of spells either taught during the first four years of Hogwarts or which are easily cast by fourth-year students, even if the spell isn't explicitly taught. You, of course, will be free to cast any spell you wish."

"Any spell?" Hermione asked, somewhat taken aback. Flitwick merely nodded, then walked a short distance away, where he took up a defensive dueling stance.

"Whenever you two are ready," he called out.

Hermione and Jasmine looked at each other briefly, then separated a bit and adopted similar stances. No one had tried to teach them anything about actual dueling since the Lockhart fiasco, but they knew Flitwick was a dueling master and figured it was best to imitate him. He nodded in approval, then said, "I'll count down from three to zero; on zero, we'll begin."

"Three." Both witches tightened their grips on their wands.

"Two." Jasmine shifted her foot slightly to get better traction against the rocky ground.

"One." Hermione bent down a little lower to provide a smaller target.

"Zero."

When Flitwick revived the two witches, they found that they'd been stunned and bound. Jasmine had been given a duck's bill and antlers, while Hermione had flippers and was covered in yellow feathers.

"I'm impressed," Flitwick told them with every appearance of sincerity as he dispelled all the jinxes he'd cast on them. "I think you two lasted nearly five seconds. The duel would have been shorter, but you both dodged rather effectively, and your well-aimed spells forced me to move three times."

Jasmine and Hermione could only gape in shock as they got to their feet. "Do either of you still think you'd like to train against me?" Both shook their heads vehemently, wondering just how much work they'd have to put in before they could even begin to be a challenge for him.

"Well, keep up the practice," he said with a barely-hidden giggle. "Maybe we'll do this once a month or so to see how you're improving!"

Sunday, September 26, 1995, Late Morning.

Jasmine wiped the sweat from her brow as she leaned back against the wall of the workout room and observed the activity around her. Fleur was supervising Padma, Tracey and Daphne in dodging exercises; like so many purebloods in Britain, they had been taught to disregard "muggle" tactics, which included dodging spells. Jasmine had been helping, but now she stopped for a quick break.

Hermione was showing Neville, Susan, and Hannah how to cast silently, a skill normally not taught until sixth year. Gabrielle was supervising Blaise, Ginny, and Luna in accuracy practice. Despite Gabrielle's physical and magical power, she still had trouble getting older witches to take her seriously, but fortunately Blaise seemed to be more accepting of her.

From what Jasmine could see, the witches were doing not merely well, but exceptionally well. They had already been progressing faster than normal for their years, but this weekend they were pushing beyond that — and Jasmine suspected that the Autumnal Equinox ritual had something to do with it. Of the two wizards, Neville was keeping up with them the best, probably because of the extra training they had done with him during the last term.

As she looked more closely, she realized that the witches already seemed a little fitter than they had the previous weekend — a difference that was apparent because Hermione had finally convinced everyone that it was much, much easier to work out in close-fitting muggle exercise clothing than in loose, billowy robes.

And Jasmine wasn't entirely sure what to think about the rapid development. There's no denying the value of physical and magical fitness, she considered, but are we growing up too fast? Shouldn't the others be able to enjoy being kids for a while longer?

Abruptly she shook her head to banish such notions. I'm beginning to sound like Dumbledore, she thought ruefully.

Just then, she noticed that Ginny was getting frustrated with her accuracy. Jasmine took a quick swig of water, then pushed off from the stone wall and headed over to work with Gabrielle.

"Ginny," Jasmine said as she approached. "There's such a thing as trying too hard. I think you're letting your arm and hand get too stiff as you're casting spells. Imagine if you tried to handle a broom that way — would you find it easy to change direction quickly?"

Ginny had started to bristle at first when Jasmine began her critique, but as soon as she made the comparison to broom riding, something clicked for her.

"Look at Luna," Jasmine continued. "Sometimes she moves like she doesn't have a bone in her body. Now, I wouldn't recommend trying to imitate her unless that sort of movement comes naturally to you, but the point is, she's doing well with accuracy. She doesn't always hit the targets with her Reducto curse, but she hits more often than not by now."

Ginny watched Luna closely for a moment and saw that Jasmine was right. Then she realized that Gabrielle had been trying to tell her the same thing before — she just hadn't used the analogy to broom riding, so Ginny had been dismissing it all. "Sorry, Gabrielle," she mumbled, "I get it now."

Gabrielle just shrugged, unconcerned, but there was renewed determination in her voice when she said, "Now show me what you can hit!"

As Jasmine watched, Ginny resumed her spellcasting and finally started to connect with her targets. As her accuracy improved, so did her confidence, and Jasmine saw the fire in her eyes that she remembered. Ginny was fierce and passionate, bringing a lot of emotion to her spells and making them more effective than average. Turning to Luna, she noticed that while the blonde witch's movements looked relaxed, there was a tension and determination in her expression that Jasmine hadn't ever seen before. She recognized it as similar to the look she'd seen on Hermione's face when she was trying to research something complicated.

Blaise, for his part, was far less free in his movements. As with everything else he did, his spellcasting was careful and controlled, almost as if he were deliberately trying to keep something bottled up. It was a trait Jasmine had noticed more than once during the time she had known him, and she continued to wonder what made the Slytherin wizard tick.

The whole time, Gabrielle kept watching Jasmine, marvelling at how easily she'd gotten Ginny to understand something that she herself had been trying to explain for a while. When Jasmine moved away to see how Hermione was doing, the young veela rededicated herself to pushing the other three in order to help them be the best they could be. "Keep at it!" she said as she waved her wand, causing the moving targets to shrink a little. "Zose are Death Eaters attacking your families! Don't let zem through! Show zem zat you are not helpless little girls! ...And boys!" she amended belatedly. Blaise simply snorted and kept casting.

"How goes it?" Jasmine asked her girlfriend as she watched Neville, Susan, and Hannah repeatedly trying to cast a spell without vocalizing the incantation.

"Pretty well," Hermione answered. "None of them have quite got it, but they can all cast reasonably powered spells while barely whispering. Neville is the closest, but he's had a lot more practice with us."

"How can you call it 'pretty well' when we keep failing?" Susan asked in frustration.

"Hey, you're doing better than we did after this much time," Jasmine pointed out.

Hermione shrugged. "I keep trying to tell them..."

"You took longer to get this far?" Hannah asked, obviously skeptical.

Jasmine nodded. "I'll admit that we weren't pushing as hard as you to get it so quickly, though we were also working on other things at the same time. But still, you are doing better."

"Just keep working on your visualization," Hermione advised. "That's what finally did it for us. We learn about the importance of visualization in Transfiguration, but it's critical in so much more of magic than just that area."

Susan sighed. "You're right, you're right: the clearer the visualization, the better the results. Moody said the same thing — well, except with more threats and shouting. I just keep forgetting because I'm focusing on repeating the words in my head."

Jasmine grinned. "I was doing the exact same thing. Don't worry, you'll get it." She reached out and gave the Hufflepuff witch's shoulder an encouraging squeeze, then flashed her girlfriend a smile before returning to Fleur and the other three.

Previously, Jasmine had been switching between helping Fleur cast stinging hexes at the other three witches, forcing them to dodge, or joining them as Fleur cast hexes at all four. The back-and-forth had forced her to concentrate more, but it had also tired her out faster, thus prompting the break to check on everyone else's progress.

"Faster!" Fleur shouted as a stinging hex hit Padma, causing her to stumble. "If you're too slow, you die!"

Jasmine remembered back to a couple of old war movies she'd caught a few minutes of while at the Dursleys. She'd learned there was someone in the military called a "drill sergeant" whose job was apparently to torture new recruits while training them. None of those drill sergeants had anything on a veela warrior, she was certain.

"You! Get your lazy bum back in line!" Fleur shouted, reinforcing the resemblance. The auburn-haired witch hastily jumped back into line with the other three and resumed dodging practice as Fleur increased the speed at which she was casting — and started throwing in a few bludgeoning hexes as well, just for good measure.

By the time lunch rolled around, everyone had gone through each of the three training stations twice, and everyone felt exhausted, both physically and magically. At the same time, though, they also felt invigorated because they could all see just how far they had come.

"You're all doing very well," Fleur announced to the group, as if in answer to their thoughts. "Much better zan I would have expected, in fact. Originally I wanted to focus most of my time on Jasmine and Hermione, but if you keep progressing like zis, Gabrielle and I may be able to spend more time with you." Somewhat surprisingly, this was greeted with excitement (however tired) rather than groans. Fleur and Gabrielle were tough and at times even vicious taskmasters, but everyone knew that they wouldn't have made nearly as much progress without their guidance.

No one discussed why Fleur and Gabrielle might be focusing on helping Jasmine and Hermione. The two Gryffindors had told their closest friends about the prophecy involving Voldemort, but they weren't yet ready to share it more widely — not even with the whole study group. The rest knew that there was something they hadn't been told — something more than just a general concern with the return of Voldemort — and were waiting until Jasmine and Hermione were ready to bring them into their confidence.

Sunday, September 26, 1995, Afternoon.

"Miss Granger," Minerva said once the three witches had all served themselves tea, "I apologize for not having sent a gift for your birthday party last week, but I thought it would be best if I gave this to you in private." The older witch handed over a large, colorful parcel which Hermione eagerly tore into. Minerva's eyes brightened in mirth as she watched the girl start oohing and ahing in pleasure as she examined the large and clearly old books she'd just been given.

"What are they?" Jasmine asked. Even though she wasn't the reader Hermione was, she'd at least learned how to appreciate a good book. She'd also learned that it was a good idea to show appropriate interest in whatever interested her girlfriend. Most importantly, she'd learned not to try to take books that Hermione was currently admiring — not if she wanted to keep her hands attached.

"It's a set of histories of witches," Minerva answered, recognizing that Hermione wouldn't be capable of conversation any time soon. "They are old and were written well before the recent trend to downplay the power and role of witches in magical society. Given not only your interests, but also your... destined path in life, I thought that these books would be both interesting and useful."

"Wow, cool," Jasmine said, and beside her Hermione made an inarticulate noise of agreement, though without looking up. "Where did you get them?"

"They are from the personal collection of Bathilda Bagshot," Minerva answered. Hermione's head shot up as she fixed her professor with a wide-eyed stare. "Yes, these were her books at one time," Minerva continued. "She gave them to me to pass on to you. She sent them with her own gift. Well, it's partly a gift and partly an answer to your request." The older witch reached behind her and brought out a leather folio stuffed with parchment.

"This is a draft of a biography of Professor Dumbledore," she explained, handing it over. "Bathilda has been working on it for decades and doesn't want it released until after his death. According to her, it's an objective, warts-and-all history of things he's done. Or at least it will be once it's complete. She thinks that such a work is necessary for the sake of honesty and proper historiography, but at the same time she respects the Headmaster's achievements enough that she'd rather not tarnish his image while he's still alive. It took her a while to decide whether to let this copy out of her sight, but she understands why you have need of it and trusts that you won't pass it around."

Hermione was like a kitten faced with two shiny balls: she couldn't decide what interested her the most and wanted to pounce in two different directions at the same time. On the one paw she had old, forgotten knowledge that was incredibly relevant to her future. On the other paw, she had an unreleased draft of a book by her favorite author on a subject that was also relevant to her life.

Jasmine smiled in amusement as Hermione's brain seized up and attempted to restart, then she turned back to their Transfiguration professor. "Thanks, Professor McGonagall — Hermione's going to love those books. That reminds me, though: among the stuff she got the other day were two gifts which suggest that somebody might know about our relationship."

"Oh?" Minerva asked, suddenly concerned. "What were they?"

"The first was a muggle course on massage for couples. According to Hermione, it wouldn't be regular massage that simply relaxes the muscles, but, uh, well... sensual massage. The course is designed for, you know, couples who are intimate with each other."

Minerva raised one eyebrow in curiosity. "I see... and who gave this to her?"

"It came from Mr. Weasley, if you can believe it," Jasmine answered. "And he recommended that she take me!"

Now both of Minerva's eyebrows rose — right up to her hairline, in fact. "That is suspicious. Or at least it would be, if it were from anyone else. Despite his job, Arthur's knowledge of the muggle world is... tenuous at best, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, we'd noticed that," Jasmine said dryly. "That's what gives us some hope. The other gift was from Tonks. It was a set of... well, Hermione calls them 'toys for the bedroom.' Please don't ask me to describe them or to give you a list."

"And why did you think this gift implied that she knew about the two of you?"

"Well, Tonks suggested that Hermione use them with her 'mysterious boyfriend,'" Jasmine responded, "but between the scare quotes and some other things she said, it sounded a lot like she might know that there's no boyfriend."

Minerva hummed in understanding as she took a sip of tea. "That is suspicious, but Nymphadora is known for those sorts of jokes. Well known," she added with a glance heavenward. "Once again, I don't think there is reason to panic."

"Oh, we're not panicked. Not yet, at least," Jasmine said, glancing over to see that Hermione was completely engrossed in the stack of parchment she'd received from Bagshot. "That's why we waited until now to say anything. We were hoping, though, that you might be able to ask some discreet questions to find out why they sent those particular gifts."

"I can do that," Minerva said. "Hopefully there's an innocent explanation, but if they give me more reasons to be suspicious, I will let you know."

"Thanks," Jasmine replied. "That makes us feel better." She looked over at Hermione again and noticed that she was back to the old history books. "Well, it makes me feel better. And I'm sure Hermione will feel better once she rejoins the rest of us." Both Minerva and Jasmine shared a knowing look.

Suddenly Hermione's head popped up out of the book and she opened her mouth to speak.

"Well, you're back early," Jasmine cut in cheerfully.

Hermione shot her a dirty look, then turned back to Minerva. "Do you suppose that I could write to her?" she asked excitedly. "You know, if I have any questions?"

"I don't see why not," Minerva said, obviously trying hard to hide her amusement. "In fact, knowing the sorts of things you tend to ask, I strongly suspect that she would enjoy your questions."

Hermione looked as though she were about to burst. With a bit of a squeak, she put down the book and jumped up to wrap Minerva in a tight hug.

Their professor looked startled at first, but after a moment she returned the hug, patting Hermione's back a little awkwardly. It was clear that she wasn't at all accustomed to physical affection from anyone, much less from her students, and Jasmine felt such a rush of sympathy and warmth for the woman that she got up to join in the hug herself.

She wasn't entirely sure, but she thought she heard Minerva sniff once or twice as they broke apart. She thought it best not to say anything about that.

Monday, September 27, 1995, Evening.

"Welcome back! How are your girls?" Adrienne said as she greeted Apolline with a hug upon her return to France. The other veela had been travelling for almost a week, taking care of business in Britain after the Autumnal Equinox celebration.

"They are doing quite well," Apolline reported. "Fleur has settled in nicely with teaching. I think Gabrielle is still a bit lonely, but she has friends there and is fitting in better than I feared she would. I am hopeful that she will be able to flourish there. Although..." Apolline hesitated before saying anything more, and Adrienne got the impression that something was amiss.

"What is it?" she asked, concerned.

"It's just that while Gabrielle is doing well," Apolline answered, "I can't help but get the feeling that something is... off about her. She seems unusually focused on those two English witches. And on Jasmine in particular. She is less carefree. More intense."

"Perhaps she is just growing up? Growing into her role? She did spend a lot of time being trained by Areto and Pheobe — that had to have had an effect."

Apolline sighed. "Perhaps you are right. Maybe it's just the mother in me that is worrying about her daughter, but she did have to mature sooner and faster than most. I hope it hasn't affected her negatively."

"So," Adrienne continued as the two of them sat. "What do you have to report?"

"Everything was much as we anticipated," Apolline replied. "The centaurs continue to be helpful. The forest continues to flourish. Hogsmeade is doing remarkably well — its residents are happier and healthier than ever, though they don't seem to have any idea why. Those other witches — the ones who are friends with Jasmine and Hermione — participated in the Autumnal Equinox ritual, and they did quite well. They, too, developed as a result of the Midsummer's Eve ritual a few months ago, and they know it. I expect them to develop further as a consequence of this most recent ritual, too."

"None of them mind, I take it?"

"Not at all. Quite the contrary, they seem taken with the changes and are anxious for more. At the rate they are developing already, they will soon become formidable witches, both magically and physically. Jasmine and Hermione have chosen well when it comes to whom they surround themselves with. I foresee all of those witches making important contributions."

"That's interesting," Adrienne said, looking intrigued. "We should probably check into the backgrounds of them all, just so we know in advance who and what we're dealing with." She paused to make a note about that. "Anything else happen?"

"I was wondering if we should look into holding future rituals in other locations. Not that the forest is a problem, but rather so we can bring the same benefits to more places."

Adrienne thought about that. "That's an interesting idea, but I'm not sure where else it would be possible. There are few all-magical or even mostly magical communities in Britain, and while it would be nice if the others could benefit like Hogsmeade is, we'd have a lot of trouble arranging for a ritual in Diagon Alley or Godric's Hollow."

"True," Apolline conceded, "but someplace like Stonehenge might be worthwhile. There are quite a few ancient stone circles across the island. Many more than in France."

Adrienne nodded. "That's a good idea — assuming, of course, that we can get the muggles out of the way. Many of them continue to revere such places as well." She sat in silent thought for a few more moments before going on, "I had originally expected that they would finish out a full yearly cycle in the forest, which would mean continuing there at least through Yule and possibly Imbolc. However, if the forest is doing as well as you say, then it might be better to start moving the rituals around. I'm not sure why, but..." Adrienne got a far-off look in her eye. "I don't know, it just seems like a good idea now. I'll look into what it would take to use Stonehenge, especially if we have to do it without any official support or sanction."

"Maybe the goblins can help?" Apolline suggested. "They already have a presence in Britain and are experts with wards."

"That might work. I don't know if they'd see that as a violation of their treaty with the British Ministry, but I need to forward them a report about your recent trip anyway. It can't hurt to ask."

"I'll write to Fleur to ask her for suggestions about possible locations. Professor McGonagall, who is proving to be helpful to the young witches, might have some ideas, too. I'll ask them to specifically focus on locations that would spread the effects of the rituals most widely and evenly, if possible."

"Why do you..." Adrienne started, then looked at her friend in surprise. "You want to recreate the conditions that occurred on Beltane, don't you?

"Maybe."

"Apolline!" she scolded. "You know what happens if we interfere with—"

Apolline held up a hand. "You yourself told me before Beltane that if it were going to cause a problem for the prophecy, then all those people who planned on coming wouldn't have made it. And that there was little substantive difference between a few people participating and many hundreds."

"Yes, but—"

"And if we truly recreate the conditions that occurred during Beltane, it will mean asking the goddesses to choose," Apolline went on. "In such a situation, we are not responsible for what the goddesses choose to do — if they pick vessels, whether those two English witches or two others, then that is their decision."

Adrienne blinked, trying to take in her friend's argument. "I... I don't know. It just seems like too much. I mean, Beltane was... was an accident, surely..."

"Do you still think it was an accident that Céleste made those changes?" Apolline asked pointedly. "Changes that just happened to create the conditions to make it easy for the subjects of the most important prophecy in veela history to be filled with the essence of actual goddesses on the night of one of our most important ritual celebrations?" She reached out and took Adrienne's hand in her own. "I don't think you should be frightened. I was scared myself when I first learned what had likely happened at Beltane, but I've since realized that this is a blessing that we should embrace, not a threat we should flee from."

"I... I can't make this decision myself. I'll need to forward it along to the Theledrion."

"I know," Apolline said, handing her a piece of parchment. "I already have my reasons laid out here for you to include. I think they'll agree with me."

Adrienne looked over the parchment for a long moment, then nodded. "Yes, they probably will. But then, it's not their island that you're planning on reshaping, is it?" She looked up again and saw Apolline smiling. "Sweet Morgana," she whispered as comprehension dawned on her. "You don't expect them to stop with Britain, do you?"

Thursday, September 30, 1995, Evening.

"What is it, my boy?" Dumbledore asked as he sat down, ignoring the glass of firewhiskey which the dark-haired wizard pushed towards him. "My time is especially limited during the week like this. I only came over because you said it was of the utmost importance."

When it became clear that Dumbledore wasn't going to take a sip of his drink immediately, Sirius pushed over a piece of parchment. "I've found another one. Or I should say, the goblins did. Pieces of one, at least."

"One what?" Dumbledore asked as he started reading. Sirius didn't say anything, but he knew when the headmaster got his answer by the look that flashed across his face. "So, Bellatrix Lestrange was given a horcrux for safekeeping," he said softly.

Sirius nodded. "It makes sense, in retrospect. Lucius was given one as well. Do you think that any other members of his inner circle were similarly trusted?"

Dumbledore shook his head as he put down the parchment. "No, I don't think that any were as close to him as those two. That avenue of inquiry, at least, is probably exhausted, which will allow me to focus on other potential leads. Thank you for this." He now took a long sip from the tumbler and, when he put out the small fire that started in his beard, he continued, "Did the goblins have anything else to say about what was in her vault?"

"No, not really," Sirius answered as he sipped some water. "There were lots of dark artifacts that potentially violated their rules on what can and can't be stored in vaults, but when the horcrux exploded, everything they'd set aside for inspection was destroyed. They're blaming Bellatrix, so they plan on reimbursing the Black family based on estimates of the value of items that their brief inspections had identified as likely family heirlooms. It will probably bankrupt the Lestranges entirely." It was hard to keep a note of glee out if his voice.

Dumbledore nodded. He ran his finger down the parchment, rereading some of it. "I see that they think it might have been a small cup or bowl. Interesting. They also don't say specifically that it was a horcrux, just that it was a dark artifact that had at one time been in connection with a soul. They might not know that it was a horcrux."

"I'd like to know why it exploded. I'm lucky that the one stored here didn't explode with so much force — I'd have lost the entire house!"

"Indeed," Dumbledore responded, his mind racing as he examined and discarded possible explanations, each more unlikely than the last. "So little is known about horcruxes, which is frankly a good thing, but that means that we have almost nothing to go on here. Perhaps they were improperly made... but if so, why are they doing all of this now?"

"Could it be related to his new body? Or the ritual he used to get it?"

"Hmm..." Dumbledore mused. "You may have a point." He looked down at the parchment again. "I see that they have a date here. And you have a date for when a horcrux exploded here. I'll do some research to see if there is any connection between them. Maybe that will lead us somewhere."

"I hope so," Sirius said emphatically. "We have no idea how many more there are or where they are, so there's no telling what kind of damage might be caused the next time one of them goes off. And we have no idea when the 'next time' might be! What if one is hidden in the Ministry? Or Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened as certain pieces of a puzzle started coming together.

Friday, October 1, 1995, Late Morning.

It had been a week since anyone had seen anything of Umbridge. A week of bliss during which Jasmine and Hermione could walk the corridors of Hogwarts without fear that the vile Pink Toad Lady might suddenly pop out of nowhere in an attempt to find fault with them. A week without anyone's classes being "inspected" to determine whether they were sufficiently in line with Ministry policies.

They knew it wouldn't last, but all of the students were determined to enjoy the reprieve as much as possible.

In Defense class, the growing superiority of the study group continued to make itself known. Even Neville and Blaise had clearly become better at spellcasting, shielding, and dodging than anyone else, and they were outshone by all of the witches who had experienced at least one of the magical ritual celebrations.

For some reason, though, no one realized that all of those who were doing so well were part of the same inter-house study group. None of them had ever tried to hide the existence of their group, but they also hadn't advertised it. The first mass DA meeting wasn't scheduled until later in the month, and in the meantime they'd all begun mini-lessons within their houses by insisting that prospective members at least be able to cast a decent shield — something that would withstand several hexes or curses before failing — as well as an effective disarming charm.

That wasn't nearly enough and they all knew it, but they decided that they all needed to improve a bit before they could pass themselves off as credible teachers for anything more advanced.

They had no idea how quickly events would outpace their plans.

Friday, October 1, 1995, Evening.

"Have you picked out the team you think will best fulfill your plan, Thaddeus?" Voldemort asked in a casual voice — a voice which the other Death Eaters in attendance knew was probably a bit too casual for the wizard's safety.

"Yes, my Lord," Nott answered, bowing as low as he could go but seemingly pleased by the sudden use of his first name. "I have selected a mix of new recruits who need some experience, a few veterans who avoided prison, and two whom you freed from Azkaban: Travers and Mulciber. The latter will play the most prominent roles for everyone to focus on while the rest will cause mayhem and destruction in the background. If everything goes well, then all the witnesses will assume that the entire group consists of former Azkaban inmates."

"Good, good," Voldemort said as he nodded. "Your plan is sound and will further Our goals. If it succeeds, it will be to your credit and We shall reward you. If it doesn't..."

Nott gulped at the implied threat — a threat that was always hanging over anyone's head in the wake of failure, but he knew that the Dark Lord rarely made a point of stating it aloud. "Ye-yes, my Lord," he said.

"Will you be joining them to personally ensure their success, Severus?" Voldemort asked.

"No, my Lord," Snape said. "I thought I should be seen to be in the castle to avoid any chance of being accused."

"And the scheduled visit to Hogsmeade has not been altered?"

"No, my Lord."

Voldemort nodded slowly. "Very well. Now leave Us, for We wish to discuss the plan further with Thaddeus, here."

Snape slowly backed away, bowing low, then left the throne room as quickly as he was able. Ever since Narcissa disappeared, he thought, meeting with the Dark Lord has been getting more and more dangerous.