A/N: The next chapter heralds the arrival of the long-awaited second task, yet if anything, this current chapter may be even more pivotal for later developments in the story. Stay tuned...

A/N 2: I always enjoy seeing what sorts of thoughts different chapters provoke, and can I just say: wow, so much hate for Dumbledore! I didn't expect anyone to like him, but I've been trying hard to provide plausible, non-horrible reasons for his actions. Poor as his choices may be, I had thought he'd get a little more sympathy. I'm glad people are enjoying the story despite him, at least.

Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "Banking on Her" by robst. Tired of constantly being put in danger, Harry plans on using the Triwizard Tournament to make his escape from the wizarding world. Unfortunately, he didn't know about a hidden cost that would take away from him the only thing about Hogwarts that he really cares about: Hermione. H/Hr.

Chapter 36 - Who Wrote the Book?

Saturday, February 20, 1995, Afternoon.

Four days before the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, the four champions gathered one final time to compare what spells they could cast as part of any joint effort to rescue hostages from the bottom of the Black Lake. Having cleared a space in the commandeered classroom to practice in, the four champions discussed the best spells and what they each specialized in.

"Since I 'ave an affinity for fire as a veela," Fleur started, "zose are my best spells. But zey won't be very useful underwater."

"What about Relashio?" Hermione asked. "It creates a jet of sparks, which are related to fire, and we've established that it will work underwater."

Fleur's eyes brightened as she said, "Oui! Zat is an excellent idea! Merci!"

All four champions spent a few minutes practicing Relashio to ensure that they could cast it silently. Mindful of her instructions regarding the prophecy, Fleur tried to keep an eye on Jasmine in between her own spellcasting. Despite only being in her fourth year, Jasmine's spells are remarkably powerful, she thought. She's easily as strong as the rest of us and perhaps a bit stronger.

After a brief discussion, they all agreed that some form of cutting charm or curse would be useful. They also agreed on the use of banishing and summoning charms as there were a number of situations in which they could come in handy. Jasmine hadn't practiced either silently because she had been more focused on combat spells, but the glint in Hermione's eyes left no one in doubt that Jasmine would be proficient at them before they all entered the lake. The more time I spend with those two, Fleur thought, the more obvious it is that Hermione is the driving force behind what both of them learn.

The last spell they all practiced was Reducto, which they agreed would serve as an all-purpose offensive spell. It wouldn't easily kill, especially when cast silently, but it would injure and thus dissuade most opponents from continuing to attack them. This at least was one spell which Jasmine had down pat. She was so happy to be back on familiar ground that she forgot to refrain from overpowering her spells, which made it very obvious to Fleur that Jasmine's Reducto curses were indeed stronger than those of the others, even when cast silently.

After spell practice was done, Jasmine asked, "Has anyone gotten ahold of the tournament rules yet?"

"Non," Fleur responded. "Madame Maxime says she saw them when ze original agreement was made, but not since, and ze rules were returned with ze signed contract."

Viktor nodded and said, "That is pretty much vat Headmaster Karkaroff told me. He said he thought it strange, but since he didn't see anything in the rules that seemed problematic, he wasn't vorried."

"I asked Professor Sprout," Cedric said, "and she said the Headmaster assured her that there wasn't anything to worry about in them. I pointed out that this is a dangerous competition and I'm obligated to stay with it, so shouldn't I get to read the rules myself? She seemed a bit surprised that she hadn't thought of that and promised to look into it."

"Thanks for trying," Jasmine said, "but I doubt any of us will be allowed to see a copy of the rules that we're obligated to follow. And that bothers me." The others looked similarly disturbed.

Before they all split up again, Viktor handed out newly annotated copies of the map which Hermione had previously distributed. Thanks to his heightened sense of smell as a shark, he was able to denote areas of the lake where merpeople, grindylows, and other creatures spent most of their time.

All that remained now were their private, last-minute preparations before the task.

Saturday, February 20, 1995, Night.

"Oh, Hermione," Jasmine said just as they were preparing to end their late practice session on mind magics and wandless spell casting. Both skills were coming along nicely — or at least, the wandless definitely was, since they were casting wandlessly with much greater consistency. They couldn't be sure about the mind magics because while they were starting to see some success in reading each others' emotions, they had no idea if that was contributing towards their ability to prevent their minds from being attacked.

"Hmm?" Hermione looked up expectantly.

"I forgot to mention," Jasmine continued, "I saw something odd on the Map earlier today when we were setting up for the other champions. You know how we haven't seen Barty Crouch around for a while, and Ginny told us that Percy has been taking his place?"

"Yeah, he was boasting in his letter about a promotion or something, right?"

"Exactly," Jasmine said. "Well, I saw Crouch in Moody's private quarters. Moody was there, too, though he wasn't moving. Only Crouch was moving around."

"That is odd," Hermione said with a frown.

"Yeah," Jasmine agreed, shrugging. "I didn't know what to make of it, but I thought I'd mention it." With that, she leaned forward to give her bushy-haired girlfriend a long, lingering kiss. Ever since Valentine's Day, she'd been much more assertive in showing affection than she had been before. She still got a bit tense sometimes, and she knew she wasn't completely over what the Dursleys had done to her, but she also knew that she was doing better — and that was due in no small measure to the efforts and patience of Hermione.

Once the kiss was over, Hermione gave her girlfriend a seductive smile before exiting through the bed curtains. Deciding to get a quick drink of water before going to sleep, she noticed that each of the other girls' beds were unusually quiet as she passed by them. On a whim, she checked and found that each of the other girls' beds had been charmed for silence.

It took her only about five seconds to make a good guess as to what the reason was, and another five to realize that they had never done this before — not before she had lent out her copies of Our Bodies, Ourselves.

I knew that a lot of beliefs and practices in the British wizarding world were old-fashioned, she mused, but maybe attitudes are a bit more backwards than I realized. That would explain why they find that book so fascinating. Then again, it was considered radical when it was first published in 1970, and the British wizarding attitudes seem to date back to well before then.

Hermione smirked slightly when it occurred to her that in a sense it was her mother — a muggle! — who was responsible for this change in behavior. Jasmine would probably blush hard enough to light up the whole dorm room if she encountered this, Hermione thought to herself, even now, despite her progress. I should probably be a little embarrassed too, but quite frankly I just think it's funny.

She had no idea that she hadn't even seen the tip of the iceberg yet.

Sunday, February 21, 1995, Morning.

First thing Sunday morning, an unfamiliar owl arrived for Jasmine. Not recognizing it or the package it carried, she cast several detection charms on it which Hermione had taught her. Once she felt reassured that the package was clean of any hexes or curses, she took it and gave the indignant owl a bit of bacon. Upon opening the package, she found that it contained the shipment of gillyweed that she'd been waiting for so anxiously.

Immediately after breakfast, Jasmine and Hermione grabbed Neville and Ginny so they could all go to the Room of Requirement. As they all sat by the pool, Jasmine dumped out the gillyweed and discovered that it was a disgusting, green, slimy mass of complete grossness. "Ugh!" Jasmine said as she wrinkled her nose. "Is this right, Neville? Is it supposed to look like this?"

"Absolutely," Neville responded without even a trace of disgust. Quite the contrary, in fact: he was looking on the slimy plant with awe and wonder. "This looks like it should be a fantastic sample. I've never seen it personally myself, but from what I've read, this looks like it's really high quality." He stretched out his hand, then stopped and looked questioningly at Jasmine. "Can I pick some up?"

"Oh, by all means," she said with an encouraging gesture, a little disturbed that anyone would be so eager to voluntarily touch the stuff. "Have at it."

"Thanks," he replied as he pulled a small bit off of the mass of gillyweed and held it up to the light, making squishing sounds as he rolled it back and forth between his fingers. "Yep," he continued, "this feels like the right consistency and temperature, too. 'Warm, greasy snot' is how I believe the book described it." He didn't notice that all three witches were now quite green, with Hermione actually holding her hand to her mouth in an attempt to keep her breakfast from making a dramatic reappearance.

"And... and... I've got to eat that stuff?" Jasmine asked in horror.

"Better you than me," Ginny said unapologetically.

"It's completely safe!" Neville protested. "The transformation after you eat is a bit painful as gills appear in your neck, but the gillyweed itself is safe to consume. It's not supposed to even really taste like much of anything. Grassy, maybe. Mostly it's just, well, really slimy as it slides down."

Sighing, Jasmine said, "Well, might as well get this over with." Turning to Neville, she added, "While I go change, could you determine how much time all of this should last for? Then pull off one amount that should last for an hour and another that should last… say, fifteen minutes?" The last was said as she looked at Hermione, who nodded in agreement.

"Sure," Neville said and got to work while Jasmine headed over to the changing area. Ginny and Hermione watched Neville in equal parts horror and fascination as he manipulated the slimy green mess for Jasmine.

Once the auburn-haired champion returned, Neville showed her that she had enough for approximately three total hours. That gave her enough for an hour to practice, and hour for the task, an hour to give to hostages, if needed, and a little bit extra.

"Here's your first fifteen minutes," Neville said as he handed her a slippery mass about the size of a sickle. She shuddered when it reminded her of what she had wiped off her wand after she had pulled it out of the troll's nose in first year. "I've separated the rest into one mass of an hour and several separate fifteen minute sizes."

"Thanks, Neville," she said. Holding the gillyweed in front of her, she looked at it more closely and decided that increased proximity wasn't doing it any favors. She walked up to the side of the pool and popped it into her mouth, fighting to not regurgitate as it slid down her throat. After a few seconds of nothing happening, she was about to turn to talk to Neville when she suddenly felt sharp pain on the sides of her neck.

"She's changing!" Ginny said excitedly.

"She can't breathe!" Hermione quickly realized and gave the gasping, struggling Jasmine a hard shove into the pool, where she landed with a very undignified splash.

Jasmine's panic only lasted for a couple of seconds; once she was fully submerged, she realized she could indeed breathe. She looked around in wonder and began testing out her webbed feet and hands, amazed at how natural being underwater felt while using the nasty plant. She had so much fun, in fact, that she almost forgot to try casting spells. When she finally did remember, she only had about five minutes to do so and found that it was easier than when using the bubblehead charm. It seemed like hardly any time at all before she started feeling sharp pain along her neck again, and she quickly exited the pool.

"Wow," Jasmine said once she was sitting with her friends, "that was an amazing experience. Thanks so much for recommending it, Neville — this is going to help a lot." Her friend beamed at her praise.

"How was spellcasting?" Ginny asked. "I noticed that it took you a while to try it."

"Yeah," Jasmine said, a little embarrassed, "I kinda forgot because I got caught up in how much easier it was to move around underwater..."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said encouragingly, "You need to feel comfortable doing that, too. The faster and easier you swim, the better you'll be."

"True," Jasmine agreed, now feeling a little better. "Anyway, I thought it was easier to cast spells while using the gillyweed than while using the bubblehead charm." She looked at the remaining portions of gillyweed. "I'd like to try again, but I need to be careful not to overdo it — I don't want to run out of this stuff."

"How about doing it a half hour today and a half hour tomorrow evening?" Hermione suggested.

"Sounds good," Jasmine said as she grabbed another fifteen-minute clump. This time, she remembered to start practicing the spells right away and quickly found that not only was it easier to cast them, but that she was casting them with a little more strength than she had previously managed underwater without the gillyweed.

"I didn't realize she was that powerful," Ginny observed as they watched her.

"And she's doing that silently, too," Neville pointed out. "If she were out here in the air and vocalizing her spells, I'd bet she'd be pretty scary.

They both looked at Hermione, who nodded. "Our offensive and defensive spells are quite a bit stronger than before. We still have no idea why this has happened, but we'd rather you not tell anyone — it's an advantage if others underestimate us."

Ginny and Neville immediately agreed and went back to watching Jasmine's impressive display of silent, underwater combat. When she finally reemerged from the water and had a chance to relax a bit, Neville hesitantly asked, "Is that offer to train with you still open?"

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, then Hermione answered, "Yes, and for both of you, in fact, though it would have to wait until after the task now. We have to focus on what Jasmine needs."

"Oh, of course," Neville said quickly.

"You don't think we'd, you know, be holding you back?" Ginny asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "I don't think so. We're still going to have to do training on our own, but that doesn't mean we can't take some time during the week to help you two as well. It'll probably be good for us anyway."

"The thing is," Hermione said a bit tentatively, "some of the spells we're learning are... well, they aren't what you'd call 'nice' spells. I mean, they're meant to hurt people."

"Dark magic?" Ginny asked, horrified.

"No!" Jasmine responded. "Some are a bit grey, but nothing truly dark. The fact is, I'm almost guaranteed to end up in a fight with people who want to hurt me, sooner or later. You both know that Voldemort isn't dead and is trying to come back." Ginny and Neville nodded soberly.

"Well," Hermione continued, "when that happens, we won't even survive, much less succeed, if we limit ourselves to stunners. I don't like it, and I'm still uncomfortable with some of these spells, but I recognize that they may mean the difference between life and death."

Both Neville and Ginny looked very pensive at hearing this. "I'm not sure I'd be ready to learn anything really nasty," Neville said slowly, "but I should probably learn better spells for defending myself."

"Me, too," Ginny said as she nodded.

"Good," Jasmine said. "After the task, we'll look into finding an evening every week when we can meet and start working on spellcasting, accuracy, and that sort of thing. There are plenty of spells besides the nasty ones which are worth learning first, anyway."

Tuesday, February 23, 1995, Afternoon.

Sirius gently prodded the delicate magical instrument on the table before casting another spell on it. He'd been horrified to learn that Jasmine had a blood tracker on her, especially since he knew that there wasn't anything he could do about it. They had been created to be difficult if not impossible to interfere with — if they weren't, they'd be too easy for kidnappers and political enemies to circumvent.

However, Hermione seemed to think that she might be able to do something and had said that she wanted everything he could give her on dispelling blood trackers. That's what he was going to give her, including his own observations and analysis of one of his family's old instruments. She was an incredibly intelligent witch, and if anyone could think of a way to deal with the problem, it was probably her.

His family's old house was in better shape now, but not enough. When he had learned just how much worse Jasmine's time at the Dursleys must have been, he recommitted himself to plans to get her to move in with him, and he knew that wouldn't be possible unless the house had been thoroughly cleaned up. Unfortunately, Kreacher had been letting the place decline for years and seemed uninterested in helping to fix the mess he'd created.

"What are you doing, you good-for-nothing? Come out here and talk to me!" he heard from the hallway. It was the portrait of his mother, Walburga Black. She'd taken to screaming at him because he'd refused to answer her questions when he first arrived. Kreacher, as ever, was hovering in the doorway, watching him with suspicion.

"Stop messing with those instruments! They're far too delicate and important for the likes of you!" He wished he could work on this elsewhere, but after years of neglect he didn't think he'd be able to move it far without breaking it. Besides, his ancestors had set up this particular room to be well-suited to this kind of magical work. He didn't understand the details, but he knew it had to do with runes inscribed on all the walls and hidden under the faded, peeling wallpaper.

"Stop ignoring me, boy! I'm talking to you! What are you doing with that?" she screamed.

"I'm trying to understand how it works, you crazy old bat!" Sirius finally cried out in frustration, unable to concentrate anymore on the delicate instrument with the insane portrait screaming at him. "Someone's gone and put a blood tracking charm on my goddaughter, Jasmine, and I need to better understand how these things work! Now shut up and let me concentrate!"

After a few minutes of silence, he realized that it had worked. It had actually worked! She's finally shut up! It's wond—

"Jasmine who?" came a quiet voice from the hall.

It was too good to be true, that's what it was, Sirius thought with a sigh. Then again, she didn't scream that time, so maybe it was still a victory?

"Jasmine Potter," Sirius said through gritted teeth, tapping the instrument again before casting another spell.

"Jasmine Dorea Potter?" came the voice again. "Named after Dorea Black?"

Sirius stopped then, realizing that there was something odd about the voice. It still came from his mother's portrait, but it sounded different. "Yes," he answered carefully.

It was quiet for a long moment, and he thought that maybe she was done; then suddenly she said, "Dorea was my aunt. She was my favorite aunt, in fact, though I never actually thought of her as my aunt. She was only five years older than me, and I only ever called her 'auntie' to tease her."

Sirius hadn't known that, which was hardly a surprise because his mother had never talked about such things. He supposed that he should respond somehow, but he didn't really know what to say. Finally, he offered, "I guess... you were more like friends or sisters?"

"Oh, yes," his mother said, and Sirius thought he could detect a smile behind the words, which was disturbing. "Closer, even. We did everything together — I practically worshipped the ground she walked on. From an early age, I wanted to be exactly like her when I grew up. My parents and grandparents thought it was the cutest thing." Sirius didn't recognize the tone of voice at first, but eventually he realized that it was... happiness. Then he also realized that he had never heard his mother sound happy. It was surreal to first hear it from her portrait, years after her death.

He also couldn't imagine anyone in his family ever thinking of or calling anything cute.

"She protected me," Walburga continued, "from anyone who tried to hurt or tease me. Even from other family members." After a minute of silence, he heard her call out again, but this time in a tight, low voice, "You say that someone has put a blood tracking charm on my Dorea's namesake? Not family, then? An enemy of the family?"

"Yes," Sirius said immediately. That tone of voice he was quite familiar with. It was a dangerous tone, and he knew it well because it had so often been directed at him and his own behavior. It was a tone that promised blood and pain.

"Well," Walburga said, "we can't have that. Even if her father married a mudblood, that girl is a granddaughter of the House of Black and named after one of this House's finest witches. Have you looked at the book Blood and Charms? I believe it has information on blood trackers."

"Yes, actually, that was one of the first I read," Sirius replied, trying hard not to shout at her for insulting Lily — she'd finally stopped shouting herself, and it sounded like she might be trying to help, which struck him as utterly bizarre. He stood up and walked over to the doorway so he could see the portrait he was talking to. He found her standing very straight and almost regally.

"I've already told Jasmine and her friend the basics, but Hermione wants all the details on how to remove them." He held up a hand to forestall her protests. "Yes, I told her how difficult that is, but she wanted the information anyway, and I intend to give it to her. She's considered by some to be the brightest witch of her age, so if anyone can use that information, it's her. She and Jasmine are also incredibly close, so she has a lot of motivation to help."

"Do you have any suspects?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, we do," Sirius answered. "Right now, the chief suspect is Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."

He could see her eyes flare, and she quickly turned to the house elf. "Kreacher!"

"Yes, Mistress?" the elf said, bowing low in front of the portrait.

"You know where Phineas' portrait is, yes? Seal it in a silk bag, put silencing charms on it, and put it in the attic," she said. "Immediately!" The elf then popped away.

Sirius looked at her questioningly, and she said to him, "Upstairs in my old room is a portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, a former headmaster of Hogwarts. He has another portrait in the headmaster's office and would be obligated to report on anything happening here — at least, he would unless bound by a higher oath, like to the House of Black. But right now, we can't take the chance. You'll need to talk to the other portraits to get their opinion before we bring him out."

Sirius slapped a hand to his face and moaned at his own short-sightedness. "I never even thought about that sort of thing. I'm lucky I avoided your room, at least. Is he the only one we have to worry about?"

Walburga nodded and said in a chastising but not entirely unkind tone, "Yes, he's the only one. You need to be more careful, Sirius. The House of Black has enemies, and you're in poor enough shape as it is to be fighting them. How do you expect to protect our young Jasmine Dorea?"

Kreacher popped back at that moment and said, "Mistress, the portrait has been sealed away."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Walburga responded. "I want you to start cleaning the house now — and be thorough about it. We don't want to be living in a house that we are ashamed of." Looking back to Sirius, she said, "I expect you intend to bring your goddaughter to live here at some point?"

"Yes," Sirius said, starting to wonder if he was still in Azkaban and hallucinating, his sanity finally having let go. "In fact, it's a priority because I think her muggle guardians have been abusing her pretty badly."

Again the eyes of the portrait flared, which surprised Sirius because he didn't think portraits could do that. "Tell me," she commanded, and for the first time he could ever remember, he willingly followed such a command from her. He explained to her about the suspicions Jasmine and Hermione had written down, complete with extensive details. He refrained from mentioning that Hermione was a muggleborn after his mother praised the witch's thoroughness — he figured it would be funny to see her expression when she finally found out.

He then had to go through a lengthy explanation of how badly he had messed up by going after Wormtail instead of taking care of Jasmine when her parents were murdered. Surprisingly, though, his mother didn't criticize him nearly as much for that as he expected her to. Oh, she told him in no uncertain terms that he made the wrong choice, but vengeance was something the Blacks understood and appreciated.

In fact, she praised him for trying to avenge his friends — even if they were "a blood traitor and a mudblood" — because in Walburga's opinion it was a sign that he still held to at least some of the family's values. However, she also felt that he needed to learn how to get vengeance in more subtle and careful ways. Killing a betrayer was fine; getting caught — especially before he could even do the deed — was not.

Walburga was incensed that Jasmine had been raised in a muggle household and agreed that she needed to be taken out of there, but she cautioned him to be careful: she thought there was something fishy about the situation, and if the girl's placement there in 1981 hadn't been entirely aboveboard, then getting her out could prove difficult. Sirius hadn't thought of that and started revising his plans immediately.

Before long, he realized it was dinnertime and took his leave of his mother's portrait so he could eat. After he had sat down, the reality of the situation finally struck him: he'd not only spent a good chunk of the afternoon having a civil conversation with his mother, a woman he'd hated with a passion for years, but it had been a productive conversation as well. She'd helped him in many ways, and he felt certain she'd keep helping him, too.

Sirius took a long drink of firewhiskey. He still wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't actually back in Azkaban, catatonic and drooling onto the cold stone floor.

Tuesday, February 23, 1995, Evening.

For the last study group meeting with the Hufflepuffs (and one Ravenclaw), before the second task, Hermione, Jasmine, and Neville were surprised once again when guests were brought along — this time, three Slytherin students. "I'm sorry," Hannah apologized a bit sheepishly, "but they overheard me and Padma talking and wanted to come to... well, basically they wanted to come for the same reason that Padma did."

"We can speak for ourselves, Abbott," Daphne Greengrass said, evidently not very patient with Hannah's halting apology. "I know you know me, Potter. These are my friends, Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini. We wanted to come to apologize to you for thinking that you cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament. We were wrong and we're sorry. I guess Padma came earlier to do the same, right?" Padma and Jasmine both nodded.

"Well," Daphne continued, "We'd also like to spend a little time getting to know you. From what Hannah said, she thought that being separated by houses contributed to her prejudice against you. That made sense to me, and I realized that you aren't someone that I should be prejudiced against out of ignorance. Same goes for the two of you, Granger, Longbottom. We should have apologized sooner, but the rivalry between our houses made it really hard, and we weren't sure you'd accept an apology from Slytherins anyway. But we decided to try now."

Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville all shared somewhat surprised looks, not having expected anything like this. They were so surprised, in fact, that they completely forgot to treat the Slytherins with reserved coolness as they had with Padma.

"Um..." Jasmine said, "I really wasn't expecting an apology from anyone in Slytherin. Like, ever. For anything. So you've kind of caught me off guard." She blinked and tried to focus herself, then continued, "Like we've told the others, because we were treated so badly, we're not ready to completely forgive. However, we're willing to give people a chance to show that they're sincerely sorry. Tentatively, at least, we can wipe the slate clean and start over, but we'll be cautious, and we won't give anyone another chance if they turn against us like that again."

Daphne smiled, an expression that was mirrored on the faces of her two friends, and said, "That's actually a rather Slytherin way of doing things. A more Gryffindor approach would be to either deny any chance of reconciliation or charge right in, forgiving everything and not demanding any proof of remorse. I'm actually impressed, and we'd be more than willing to go along with that."

A little distressed that her attitude had been called "Slytherin," Hermione nevertheless stood up and said, "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger, a muggleborn." She held out her hand and only had to wait for a second before Daphne got the message and shook it. Everyone went around, introducing themselves as if it were for the first time.

Once they had all sat down, Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise showed that they were able to fit in with the prevailing atmosphere quite easily. Daphne was the brashest of the three and the quickest to speak her mind. Tracey seemed content to let Daphne do the talking much of the time, but she demonstrated a surprisingly irreverent sense of humor. Blaise barely spoke at all, and Daphne explained that he tended to only speak up when it was important; as if to demonstrate her point, he simply nodded in confirmation.

Homework was finished early so they could spend a little more time on personal discussion since they had three new members. Everyone gave brief descriptions of their backgrounds, which included longer explanations of what Jasmine, Hermione, and Ron had really done during the past four years. Before long, Tracey spoke up to say, "Hey, Granger, could you..."

"I'm sorry," Jasmine interrupted, "but we're all trying to be friends here, even if it is tentative in some cases. Can we use first names instead of last names?"

Tracey looked a bit sheepish, but Daphne merely looked intrigued. "Sorry," Tracey said, "but in Slytherin it's standard to be more formal and respectful towards others."

"Oh," Jasmine said, surprised. "I'm sorry, too — I didn't mean to criticize or give offense. It's just that I prefer to be relaxed and informal. We're supposed to be breaking down barriers here, yeah? Well, that's one barrier that's easy to break down."

Smiling, Tracey said, "OK, I can do that." Turning back to the other Gryffindor witch, she continued, "Hermione, I understand you lent out a book about, uh, girls' bodies? Do you have it? is there any chance Daphne and I could borrow it next?"

Blaise suddenly seemed to be fascinated by a spot on the opposite wall while Hermione asked, "Book? You mean, Our Bodies, Ourselves? I had a copy but lent it out. How did you learn about it, though?"

"Well," Tracey replied, "I was in the library and heard some girls talking about how great it was. Turned out it was a couple of Hufflepuffs in 6th or 7th year. I couldn't make out everything they said, though." A bit more quietly, she added, "No matter how hard I tried to listen in."

Hufflepuff? Hermione wondered.

"I was in a bathroom stall," Daphne added, "when a couple of upperclass Ravenclaws came in and started talking about all the great things in it. Well, in both — I got the impression that there were two books? Two versions, or something?" Hermione nodded while Jasmine turned to face Blaise Zabini expectantly.

He got an indignant expression before saying, "Don't look at me!"

Next Jasmine and Hermione turned to the Hufflepuff witches, who went a bit red before Susan said, "Yes, two books were making their way through the Hufflepuff witches' dorms. I didn't know they were from you at first, and I never got a chance to look through them. But I heard they were... fascinating."

Padma had a similar story, saying that the books had been quite popular among the Ravenclaw witches and that there was a huge demand from those who hadn't seen them yet.

"Why don't they just duplicate the books?" Hermione asked, exasperation evident in her voice. "That way, everyone can have copies."

"I don't think that's very easy to do, especially considering how complex books typically are," Daphne explained, recognizing that this was something a witch raised in the muggle world probably wouldn't know. At this point many purebloods would be scornful of such ignorance, but Daphne knew that wasn't fair. "Regardless, books are spelled with special copyright charms to prevent unauthorized duplication."

"That would hardly matter," Hermione pointed out. "They're muggle books. Muggle books don't have any spells."

"Wait, what? They're muggle?" Padma asked in surprise.

"Of course they are," Hermione said. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"I thought they were created by an American coven of witches," Susan responded.

"What? Why?" Hermione asked, even more incredulously.

"Yeah, I was told that it says inside one of the books that they were created by the Boston Women's Health Book Coven," Daphne explained. "I assumed it was somehow affiliated with the Salem Institute for Witches."

THUMP! Hermione's head hit the table loudly enough to attract attention from others studying in the library.

"I don't think it's a coven," Jasmine explained, recognizing that Hermione might be unavailable for a bit while she processed this latest bit of magical lunacy. "I think it's a muggle group that specializes in educating girls and women about women's health."

"Oh," Tracey said, rather unsure of what to do about this revelation. "Well, why is it so useful to witches?"

"Because, muggle or magical, muggleborn or pureblood, we're still all female," Hermione said, amazingly back in the conversation despite her recent self-inflicted head injury. "Magic is a big difference, but there are more similarities than differences. We have the same body parts and they work in the same way. At least, I think they do — it would probably be a good idea to double check things against what magical healers say about how witches' bodies work. I suppose some of the information may not apply to us."

"Muggle or magical, I just wish I could get a copy," Daphne lamented. "Everyone who's read them is raving about them. At least, when there aren't any professors nearby."

"I'll get my mother to send another copy of each," Hermione promised, "then we'll start duplicating them. ...Wait, why not when professors are nearby?"

"Because young witches aren't taught a lot of that stuff," Daphne explained. "It's considered taboo for younger witches to know about, well, you know, such things. Many believe that if we learn such things, we'll be tempted to become wanton, scarlet women. We'll become corrupted and impure, and no wizard will want us."

"Yeah," Tracey said. "Our mothers teach us the bare minimum once we start going through, uh, our changes, and then tell us what we need to know right before we get married."

"If you're lucky," Susan added. "I've heard that some have gone into their wedding night not knowing anything, either because their mothers didn't think they needed to know or because they didn't have older female relatives to tell them. Either way, their… husbands instructed them on what was expected of them."

"Even when you are lucky enough to get that sort of talk from your mother," Daphne said, "I've heard that it doesn't consist of much more than advising us to lie back and think of wizarding England. Having sex with our husbands is supposed to be a duty and an obligation — and not necessarily a pleasant one, either."

Hermione just gaped at the other witch, finding it hard to believe that anyone — even magicals — could still believe such things in this day and age. Then she thought about the older pureblood witches she'd encountered and realized that many, like Mrs. Malfoy, didn't look particularly happy or satisfied, a condition which now perhaps had an explanation. Mrs. Weasley always seemed happy, but she also had seven children.

"How could knowing how your own body works be a bad thing?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Susan said, "but it's a common belief. Even my auntie has never told me a lot of the things that I hear can be found in that book, and she's not exactly under any wizard's thumb. I guess she simply adheres to a lot of old fashioned beliefs."

"It has to do with fertility rates among wizards and witches," Blaise said, surprising everyone that he was choosing to participate in the conversation. "You've noticed how few families have more than one child?" he asked. When the others nodded, he continued, "It's been that way for quite a long time, evidently, and it's causing the pureblood population of wizarding Britain to slowly shrink. You know how many unused classrooms there are in this castle? Well, there was a time when they were actually used. No one has wanted to talk about what's going on because that would require admitting weakness, so at some point it became an unwritten social policy that couples needed to work as hard as possible on having kids. Over time, it's caused people to treat sex as something that should only be done for the purpose of having kids. Sex for pleasure is looked down upon, especially for women, since it's their job to bear kids, not to have fun. Sex for anything other than having kids is treated as a waste at best and treason at worst."

"How do you know this?" Daphne asked, looking at her fellow Slytherin with a lot more curiosity and interest.

"Well, my mum…" Blaise suddenly looked a bit embarrassed. "Look, none of you will repeat any of this, will you? Normally I wouldn't say anything, but… after what I've heard so far, I think maybe I can trust the rest of you."

When the others all agreed to keep what he said about himself in confidence, he went on, "My mum has had seven husbands. She's never divorced, though — they've all died, and it's made her kind of infamous. Loads of people suspect her of murdering her husbands for their money. The truth is… well, the truth is that she frankly wore them all out. She never believed any of that nonsense that sex is just for procreation. She believes that sex should be fun, too, and that's what she taught me when she gave me 'The Talk.' Unfortunately for her husbands, she enjoyed it a bit more than they could handle, though the fact that she always married much older men might have had something to do with it. Anyway, when she explained sex to me, she also explained how wizarding Britain views it and why. So… that's how I know. That's why witches aren't taught much about sex or their bodies — only enough to become mothers themselves."

Everyone was shocked at Blaise's revelations, and on either side of him Daphne and Tracey offered him reassuring smiles to express their support. Having known him for almost four years, they understood how hard it was for him to open up about personal matters.

"Do you know if other magical communities have the same attitudes?" Hermione asked.

"My mother thinks so," Blaise responded. "It's more or less the same in the communities she's visited, and she's spent time in most European countries. Some are even worse, actually, and as far as she knows, no one has figured out why fertility among magical people has been on the decline for so long."

"I wonder if the same has happened with other magical creatures," Hermione mused softly, "like centaurs, goblins, and merpeople."

"Now I'd really like to read the book," Susan said. "The praise I keep hearing makes even more sense now."

"You all should definitely read it," Jasmine said. "I didn't know a lot of what was in there, and it really opened my eyes about a lot of things — and I was raised in the muggle world, don't forget. It made me think, too, especially the original edition. Actually, I should probably read it again — there's too much in there to really absorb in just one sitting."

"So," Daphne said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "the books are 'Girl Who Lived' tested and approved?"

"Sure," Jasmine said, grinning, "they both get an 'Outstanding' from me."

She had no idea how much that flippant, off-hand remark would come back later to bite her.