Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "The Spectrum of a Rainbow" by chelseyb. Tonks' hair changes color for a lot of reasons, not just because of fleeting emotions. Short, romantic one-shot. Harry/Tonks.

Chapter 58 - Stand By Me

Monday, May 17, 1995. Morning.

Albus Dumbledore sipped his morning tea as he stared at the letter from Sirius Black. It had taken over a month for this reply to come to him, longer than he had anticipated; and apparently it would be another month before Black would be able to get back into Britain, also much longer than he had hoped for. Though it's not entirely unreasonable, given how extensive the manhunt for him has been, he admitted to himself. At least he has a dwelling we can use, right in London, too, and he's confident that he'll be able to let people in safely by the time the term ends, which means the Order of the Phoenix will have it all summer.

So the delay wasn't a real problem. No, the problem lay in the fact that Black obviously expected to be with his goddaughter right from the beginning. He was arguably a bit aggressive in his expectations, truth be told. Dumbledore had framed his request to make it sound as though the need for a secure property was in large part to help Miss Potter and keep her safe. He'd done that in order to forestall any counter-demands that Black might make — Dumbledore knew that he'd do anything for his goddaughter.

Unfortunately, it appears as though that tactic has backfired a bit, Dumbledore lamented. Since I focused on Miss Potter's safety, I can hardly complain that he's doing the same. But how do I get him to understand that she will be safest at Privet Drive, not at whatever Black family property he's opening up for us? How do I get him to give up on his expectation of spending all or most of the summer with her? She needs to spend as much time with her family as possible, if the blood wards are to receive their maximum boost, and that means most of the summer — until the last week of August, I expect. Given how weak they were when I was there, I wonder if even that will be enough.

Dumbledore had been ashamed at how often he'd failed in protecting not only Miss Potter, but also other students entrusted to his care. He was convinced that his protections around Privet Drive would rectify that, however. He was committed to protecting her, no matter what it took. Given all that she'd endured so far and all that she was likely to have to endure before the current conflict was over, she deserved nothing less from him.

Hermione Granger once again sat looking through the thick packet of parchment she'd received from Sirius Black back in March. Among other things, it detailed all he had been able to find out about blood tracking magic — spells for applying the trackers, for removing them, the construction of the devices, etc. He even included observations from his own personal testing of one of the devices. All in all, it was an impressive amount of information.

The more she read through it, though, the more she was inclined to think that Sirius had been right: they needed either the original caster or the magical instruments themselves in order to break the spell. She was optimistic that between the two of them, they might be able to break it without the instrument because they probably had the raw power necessary. However, that would alert Dumbledore or whoever had the instruments, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to do that.

If we could get into Dumbledore's office, we might be able to do something, Hermione considered, but according to Jasmine there are a lot of instruments on his shelves, and there are lots of portraits that would be watching. Even if we could get in there under her invisibility cloak, they'd notice that something was going on, and we'd end up getting caught. It might be best if we simply save the "brute force" method for some time in the future when we're desperate and it's absolutely necessary.

Thursday, May 27, 1995. Evening.

"I can't believe they did this," Cedric Diggory muttered to himself, still in shock. Hogwarts' beloved Quidditch pitch, once a pristine field of sporting dreams, had been dug up, assaulted, and turned into an obscene mockery of its original form. The Triwizard Tournament organizers had dared to violate that sacred ground, turning it into a nightmarish maze with who-knew-what lurking in its shadows.

Cedric shook his head, hoping to dispel the terrible image before him, but it stubbornly refused to go away. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't will the Quidditch pitch back to its rightful state.

"Is that all clear?" the villainous Bagman asked.

"What?" Cedric asked, wrenching his gaze away from the horror before him.

Bagman gave a long-suffering sigh and asked, "Were you paying any attention at all?"

"No," Cedric answered, getting a bit angry, "I was focusing too much on which curses would serve best as punishment for the crime of destroying our Quidditch pitch!"

"Too right," Jasmine growled in agreement, causing Bagman to falter, only now realizing what sort of trouble he might be in.

Cedric looked to the other two champions for support. Viktor, to his credit, gave every appearance of sympathy; Fleur's expression was unreadable, because for some strange reason she was wrapped head-to-toe in a cloak, her face completely hidden by the deep folds of its hood. Her headmistress stood stoically between her and the others, pointedly ignoring Cedric's outburst.

"I vill explain it to him," Viktor interjected, giving Bagman an excuse to hurry away with hasty, vague apologies about having other appointments. "Come vith me, I vant to talk to you anyvay," Krum said to Cedric. While Fleur and her headmistress returned silently to the Beauxbatons carriage and Jasmine stomped up to the castle, muttering to herself, Viktor and Cedric walked off a ways to stand near the Forbidden Forest where they wouldn't be easily overheard.

"So, what's going on?" Cedric asked.

"It's just a maze filled vith obstacles and beasts," Viktor explained. "Vee vill enter it on the 24th of June in the order of highest points to lowest." When Cedric nodded, Viktor went on. "I vanted to talk to you about something else, though. After the second task, I vas thinking that maybe vee should do the third task together as vell."

Cedric responded with a broad smile. "Funny, but I had the same thought. I just didn't know how to bring it up. I really enjoyed working with you other champions, and in some ways, I thought that completing the task together as a team was better than trying to do it individually."

Viktor nodded. "Good, then vee agree. Do you think the other two vill agree as vell?"

Cedric thought for a moment, then said, "Fleur probably will. The problem will be with Jasmine."

Viktor frowned and said, "But I thought she didn't care about points or vinning?"

"She doesn't," Cedric responded, "and I don't believe she'll think it appropriate to stand as equals with the rest of us. She'll insist on us three winning while she stays in the background."

Viktor looked thoughtful. "Ja, that makes sense. So vee three should be in agreement first, then vee have to convince her?"

Cedric considered that. "Yes, but we should include Hermione as well. I'm sure she'll agree with the three of us, and she has a lot of influence over Jasmine. With her on our side, Jasmine won't be able to reject our proposal."

Viktor smiled. "Good, if you vill talk to Fleur, I vill talk to Hermione. Then vee all talk to Jasmine on... Sunday? Ja?"

"Agreed," Cedric said. "Now all we need is..." Cedric never got to finish his sentence because they both heard a noise from the Forbidden Forest. Both wizards pulled their wands and assumed dueling positions as the noise got louder, but they held their fire when a man stumbled out of the darkness. His gaunt, unshaven face was difficult to see through the hair that hung limply down from his head, and his ripped robes hung in tatters around his thin body.

"Dumbledore!" the man croaked out.

"Mr. Crouch?" Cedric asked in amazement.

The man looked at him uncertainly before turning to a tree and saying again, "Dumbledore?"

"This is Hogwarts," Cedric answered, trying to catch his attention. "Dumbledore is here, somewhere in the castle, I'm sure."

"Must speak... Son!" the emaciated man continued, then he muttered something unintelligible before collapsing bonelessly to the ground.

"Merlin!" Cedric exclaimed. "This is Barty Crouch! They've been searching for him for weeks, and he looks like he's been through hell. Viktor, run to the castle and tell a professor. I'll levitate him and follow."

Viktor nodded and broke into a run while Cedric incanted Wingardium Leviosa, raising the unconscious body into the air and following the Durmstrang champion at a much slower pace. By the time he was halfway to the castle's front doors, he was met by Minerva McGonagall, and when they reached the doors, Poppy Pomfrey was there. The school's healer immediately began casting diagnostic charms on the former ministry official while McGonagall hurried to the headmaster's office so the DMLE could be contacted.

Not five seconds after Jasmine dropped tiredly into her bed, she was joined by a very curious Hermione. "So, Jas, what happened? What did you learn?"

"For one thing," Jasmine began, "I learned that there is no lowest point of depravity beyond which the tournament organizers will not sink." Hermione just looked confused at this, so Jasmine went on, "It was horrible! An atrocity! They've torn up our beautiful Quidditch Pitch in order to create a massive hedgerow maze filled with magical obstacles and 'interesting' creatures supplied by Hagrid!"

"Oh," Hermione said disappointedly. "Is that all? I thought something serious might have happened."

"This is serious!" Jasmine cried, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "It's a crime, I tell you, a crime! I was about ready to transfigure Bagman into a rawhide bone for Fang to gnaw on, but the coward ran off!"

"Pfft," Hermione said, "It can't be that bad. I'm sure they'll put it all back the way it was when you're done."

"Yeah," Jasmine said with a dismissive gesture, "I think he said something about that while I was trying to remember the right wand movements for 'slobbering dog's chew toy,' but I'm not sure anymore."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten just how fanatical Jasmine could be about Quidditch. The past year without having to listen to Quidditch discussions had frankly been an absolute godsend — not that she'd ever admit that out loud. "So how do you want to train for the third task?"

Jasmine sighed. "Basic offensive and defensive spells, I guess. Maybe some extra detection spells so I can avoid traps?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip in thought, then said, "Why not just use the siege engine spell? If it can take down a castle wall, it will surely be effective against hedges — even magical hedges. Especially with your power."

Jasmine considered that for a moment, then shook her head and said, "Nah, it would be unfair to the others, especially with me going in first. Besides, that spell leaves you rather vulnerable for a bit after casting it, and who knows what might come at me from the sides or from behind."

"Oh, well," Hermione said sadly, "it would have been nice to see it in action in a real situation."

"You like that spell way too much," Jasmine said as Hermione repositioned herself and curled into Jasmine's side.

"No more than you like Sphaera Ignea," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, but fire's cool!" Jasmine objected, suddenly yawning.

"And so's large-scale property damage," Hermione insisted, also unable to suppress a yawn.

"I wonder if there are careers in magical demolition," Jasmine murmured as she started drifting off to sleep.

"We'd so own that market," Hermione mumbled. "Jean And Dorea's Improvement Squad."

"Hm," Jasmine said as she drifted off. "That's not so bad for once."

Hermione made a mental note to make sure her girlfriend read the Narnia books at some point.

Saturday, May 29, 1995. Afternoon.

Fleur Delacour stood nude in front of her full-length mirror, turning this way and that as she examined her body.

"I never realized you were so vain, sister dear," Gabrielle drawled as she walked into their shared room.

Fleur rolled her eyes as she moved to the bed to get her robe. "I was just making sure that I wasn't glowing anymore! It's bad enough that our schedule doesn't let us socialize with anyone else, but to have to hide from all the non-veela around here has been maddening. Now I don't have to hide anymore — and just in time, too, since I have to meet the other champions tomorrow."

"Oh?" Gabrielle asked innocently. "So you intend to walk around the carriage and castle like that now? Or maybe you'll go to your meeting like that?"

"Oi! Brat!" Fleur exclaimed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her giggling sister. "You shouldn't talk. I saw you admiring how much faster your physical changes are coming on. You stand in front of that same mirror at least twice a day!"

"You're just jealous that I'm developing faster than you did," Gabrielle retorted, her nose up in the air.

"Not hardly!" Fleur said, then her voice softened in sympathy. "I've seen how sore your joints and muscles get from how much you're growing, and that's on top of the aches and pains we both get from our heavy training." Gabrielle involuntarily winced and rubbed at her shoulders. "Come here and lie down," Fleur ordered as she tied the belt of her robe. "Let me rub your back."

Gabrielle dutifully took off her own robe and lay face-down on the bed so Fleur could begin massaging her shoulders and back. After a few minutes of groaning and purring in delight as her sister worked the soreness out of her muscles, Gabrielle managed to ask, "Fleur, have you found out yet why the Beltane ritual was so powerful?"

"I don't think anyone knows for sure," Fleur answered. "I know they were all expecting something powerful and exciting, With so many witches participating, plus the participation of Jasmine and Hermione, they all knew that there would be a lot of magic when the goddesses multiplied and enhanced it all. But what we actually experienced…."

"What we actually experienced was something now believed to be unique in our history," Apolline said from the doorway. Both sisters jumped a little, not having heard their mother enter. They were surprised to see her magically seal and silence the door before crossing the room to them. When she sat down on the bed, she looked at her youngest daughter with a slightly sad expression on her face. "I was never entirely sure about letting you participate in Beltane..."

"Maman!" Gabrielle protested, pouting in a manner that usually let her get her way.

"No, don't try that on me now," Apolline said sternly. "You did that for three days and I caved, letting you attend with your sister. Now I'm wondering if perhaps I shouldn't have."

"What was so unique?" Fleur asked, deliberately interrupting the eternal argument that went on between the other two.

Apolline sighed. "What I'm about to tell you is considered highly classified. Very few people know it — even most of those who participated may never find out, but given your roles in prophecy, I think you should be told. Unfortunately, this is also all rather speculative. It's impossible to verify, but our political and religious leaders are, I'm told, fairly confident in their conclusions."

Fleur and Gabrielle were now completely focused on their mother, all thoughts about massages and sore muscles forgotten. "Normally, witches are picked out to represent the goddesses in certain rituals. On this past Beltane, though, Céleste made two significant changes to the ritual — changes that were completely unauthorized and which she cannot account for. She remembers doing it, but she cannot explain why. First, she didn't pick out the representatives as she was supposed to; instead she allowed them to be picked through some other, unknown means. She announced that the garlands had been spelled to do it, but the one thing she doesn't remember doing is casting any such spell, and no one was able to find such spells on the garlands later on."

The two sisters' eyes were growing wide at these revelations. "Finally," Apolline continued, "she changed the language of the ritual. Although there is no set speech that gets delivered every year, there is certain, specific language that isn't changed — like labeling someone as a 'representative' of the goddesses when they fulfill a certain symbolic role in the ritual. That's the word I used when I asked Jasmine and Hermione to fulfill those roles during Eostre. That was not the word Céleste used at Beltane. The word she used... was vessels."

Fleur frowned in confusion. "I do not understand. What does that—"

Gabrielle quickly sat up. "Don't you see? As their representatives, they merely would have played the roles of the goddesses symbolically. As their vessels, they were the goddesses. Or the goddesses were in them!"

Fleur tried to contradict her sister, but stopped short when she saw her mother nod. "How can that be possible?" Fleur asked.

"I do not know," Apolline admitted. "I would have said that such a thing was little more than a fairy tale had I simply heard it and not lived it. But I don't think there is any other explanation for the amount of magic we experienced. Every single one of us is growing stronger — magically, physically, and mentally. And while most of the magic was concentrated in the forest, we have found traces of it up to two hundred kilometers away, covering most of Scotland. Something similar happened with Eostre, but the effects were smaller. Beltane was significantly stronger, with much faster results."

Gabrielle fixed her mother with an intense look. "Do you… do you think they still are the vessels of the goddesses? Or will be again?"

Apolline frowned, not accustomed to such fervor from her youngest daughter. "I'm afraid I do not know. Like I said, we can't actually verify that they ever were, it's just the only explanation that anyone has been able to come up with."

"And what does the Theledrion think about this?" Fleur asked.

"Opinions are mixed," Apolline answered. "They are all generally quite pleased with the changes they've experienced, and reports from the non-veela witches who were invited were all incredibly positive. There is, however, some concern and even a bit of fear at the prospect of actual goddesses directly participating in our rituals. Regardless of whether one believes that they are real, independent persons or merely aspects of a single goddess, the amount of raw power they can bring is incalculable. We probably only experienced a fraction of their potential on Beltane because no mortal witch could possibly channel all of a goddess's power. As those two witches grow, however, and as their bond develops, the amount of power they will be able to channel will surely increase. And then what will happen? What will they be capable of?"

"Are you scared?" Fleur asked.

"I… I'm not sure," Apolline admitted. "A little, I guess. How could I not be? The idea of possibly standing in the presence of a goddess is… is… well, I'm not sure there are words to describe it. And then I remember that I threw an emergency shelter over them to give them privacy… and the things Adrienne and I were doing right outside… right next to them!" Fleur felt herself grow warm, remembering that she, too, had been just a few feet away.

"It's both humbling and empowering," Apolline continued. "It's given me a lot to think about — that much is certain."

"I'll bet they still are, or at least will be again, vessels for the goddesses," Gabrielle said softly to herself as her mother and sister debated the likelihood and consequences of actual goddesses participating in their ritual celebrations.

Sunday, May 30, 1995. Evening.

Jasmine Potter was outnumbered and surrounded. The ambush had been expertly executed, catching her completely off guard and not allowing her a single avenue of escape. They knew all her tricks and seemed to anticipate her every move, countering her before she had scarcely begun. Her mind raced with possible attacks, but every one she considered seemed less likely to achieve victory than the last.

Taking a deep breath to calm and center herself, she looked around again, but could find no mercy in the faces of any of her opponents.

"You're sure I can't talk you out of this?" Jasmine finally asked, her slumped posture communicating defeat. She could tell when they shook their heads, though, that they didn't trust her not to try and worm her way out of it anyway. Hermione's influence, of course, Jasmine thought with a scowl. She probably warned them.

"All right, all right," Jasmine declared, "I'll go along with it." Only now did Hermione relax, signalling to the other three champions that Jasmine really had given up.

"Whose bright idea was this, again?" Jasmine asked, mentally making a list of who to target first for revenge.

"Everyone decided on it together," Cedric answered, denying her even that much.

"Now vee should agree on a strategy," Viktor said.

While the others nodded, Jasmine directed an annoyed look at Hermione. Before the conversation could progress, she announced, "I think I know a way to deal with this task relatively quickly and easily." The other champions couldn't fail to notice the smug expression on Hermione's face, though they didn't understand it.

"How can we defeat such a large maze quickly and easily?" Cedric asked.

Jasmine sighed and explained, "I can cast the siege engine spell. I wasn't going to use it because it didn't seem fair to the rest of you and because it leaves me vulnerable — every time it's cast, the caster has to wait a little bit before they can do anything, much less cast it again. With you three there, however, you can watch the sides and back while I focus on the hedges."

"That sounds familiar," Cedric said. "What is that spell?"

"It's something Hermione reconstructed from references spread out across different history texts," Jasmine explained. "It was created in the middle ages to take down castle walls."

"Will it work on hedges?" Fleur asked.

"It should," Hermione answered. "It isn't limited to just stone walls — it functions like a huge battering ram. Theoretically you can cast it at anything, and whatever is in front of you will have a very, very bad day."

Viktor scowled and said, "It still seems unfair, forcing you to do most of the work."

"Non," Fleur interjected. "She will be working 'ard, but we will be facing ze creatures. She will be ze most vulnerable, and we will be facing ze most danger."

Cedric nodded. "Sounds like a fair division of labor. Well, unless Jasmine's spell drives everything off and the rest of us end up with nothing to do, but how likely is that?"

"How likely is it that I'll get attacked by something 'interesting' just when I'm at my most vulnerable?" Jasmine asked with a snort. "With my luck, the siege engine spell will draw in everything from all over the maze, not scare them off."

"Then the three of us vill have a lot to do," Viktor said. "You make sure you can cast that spell vell and vee vill vork on our shields and offensive curses."

"Excellent suggestion," Cedric said, clapping his hands once. "That spell may make short work of the task."

"Don't thank me, thank She-Who-Loves-Demolition over here," Jasmine said with a jerk of her head towards Hermione, who still looked smug. "It was originally her idea, which I rejected for the reasons I explained. She just wishes she had a good excuse to use the spell against something real and wanted to see what I could do with it."

"You can both cast it, then?" Viktor asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

Hermione nodded happily, and Jasmine replied, "Sure, but Hermione likes it a bit too much." Hermione harrumphed at that, but she didn't say anything when she noticed that her girlfriend was smiling.

Jasmine had somewhat less practice at using the siege engine spell than Hermione did, but there was plenty of time before the final task, and she could prevail upon Professor Flitwick to take both girls to the private training area so they could practice.

Monday, May 31, 1995. Late Night.

Hellraiser poured two glasses of expensive Napoleon brandy while eyeing her newly returned envoy, Lufestre Gydenna. High priestess of the Goblin Nation as well as a lifelong friend, she was one of a very small number of goblins who were trusted enough to be left alone with the goblin queen without the presence of even a single guard.

She was also one of the very few that would be personally served food or drink by the hands of the queen — technically a breach of ancient protocol, but Hellraiser didn't stand on protocol when in personal meetings like this. That was why she consented to have this meeting while still wearing her dressing gown, much as it annoyed her.

After they'd both had a fortifying sip of the human drink, Hellraiser broke the silence. "It's been over a month since you left us, Lufey. A month, when it was anticipated that you'd be able to complete your mission — whether successfully or not — in half that time. A month with hardly any sort of communication except vague messages to say that you were waiting, and even the last one of those was over two weeks ago."

She paused to take another sip, then continued, "Then you return in a rush and insist that you must speak to me in private. You will not wait for the morrow. You will not wait for the council to be gathered. You will not even wait for me to get dressed properly!" She let this complaint hang in the air for a moment before saying, "It is only because of our long association and the trust I have in you that I've been this tolerant. I love you like a sister, Lufey, but rumors about your behavior have probably spread over half the city by now, so you'd better have a good reason for it."

Lufestre took a large sip of her drink, quietly accepting the rebuke, then answered, "I hope you find my reasons sufficient, for I have only had the best interests of our nation at heart in choosing to act in such haste." When the queen nodded, she continued, "I did not get to see anyone from the Theledrion until I'd been there for two weeks, and after that it seemed that I did nothing but engage in discussions and negotiations with them. Unfortunately, for all the time and effort that I expended, I have precious little to show for it."

The queen was clearly unhappy at hearing that, so the high priestess quickly continued, "You know that I'm no diplomat! Maybe someone with actual training could have cut through all the nonsense faster, but the constant back-and-forth took forever. I swear, we spent hours and hours dancing around topics without actually getting to the point or accomplishing anything! In the end, the problem is that I wasn't the one they truly wanted to talk to. Or not me alone, at least. That information that we wanted? They certainly have it, but they refused to simply reveal it to me. They said they would reveal it to me along with you and the Bet Bel, and even then only as part of broader negotiations for political and military alliance."

Hellraiser paused in mid-sip at hearing that bit of news. "Alliance?" she asked incredulously. "There has never been any sort of alliance between our nations. Nothing beyond commercial agreements, and even those took ages to hammer out. Why would they seek so much more? And why now?"

"I asked them much the same thing," the priestess answered, "and they agreed that it must seem bizarre. They assured me, however, that it would be worthwhile. They further assured me that they had no intent to make any moves on Britain or against us. They also insisted that their actions are not intended primarily to move against the returned Dark Lord."

"Not as a primary intent," Hellraiser interjected, "but it may be a secondary one?"

Lufestre shrugged. "They wouldn't say anything beyond what I described, but that was my conclusion."

Hellraiser looked thoughtful for a moment, slowly tapping her claws against the glass in her hands, then said, "That makes sense if their focus is the Potter witch. She's an obvious target for that dark lord, and if they want to help or use her in any way, they can expect to have to deal with him at some point. So, yes, not a primary focus — that is indeed quite informative. Yet it raises even more questions — like what their interests could possibly be in that witch."

The priestess nodded and said softly, "Yes."

Hellraiser narrowed her eyes and said, "Lufey, you've been acting oddly. Very oddly. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Her friend sighed. "There is much I'm not telling you, but I'm not sure how to explain it or if you'll even believe me. I'm not sure I believe it myself, and I was there."

"Try," the queen said in a commanding voice.

For the first time, the priestess looked up into her queen's eyes. Slowly, she began to explain, "It was not like I expected it to be. I experienced tremendous power there. Some of it was quite dangerous — when I was in the presence of their guards, I felt like I sometimes do when I'm around some of our elite warriors. Some of it, though, was... well, 'comforting' is the only way I can describe it. Like when I'm at our temple, praying to the Goddess."

The queen's eyebrows rose up in surprise at hearing this. "It's true," Lufestre insisted. "And all of them were glowing with power — literally glowing. Skin, hair, eyes, everything glowed. And they resonated with power. It was both amazing and disturbing. Something has happened to them, something tremendous; but instead of threatening us, they seem to want to ally with us — to make common cause with us."

Hellraiser sat in silence for a long while, pondering everything she'd just learned. Finally she asked, "Recommendations?"

Lufestre didn't hesitate. "If the answers they're willing to share are even half as surprising as the things I witnessed, then I don't think we can afford not to make every effort to learn them. They don't demand an alliance first, only that we start negotiations. I think they want a sign of good faith on our part — a demonstration of genuine willingness to work with them."

"And if what you're telling me is correct," the queen responded, "then they expect that we'll be so impressed by the answers that we'll continue those negotiations even after learning what we want to know."

Lufestre nodded, and Hellraiser quietly thought for a bit more. Eventually, she said, "Since you just finished visiting them, I guess it will be our turn next to host a delegation from the veela. And as you are now our resident expert on all things veela, especially when it comes to the current veela political situation, you know of course that you'll be in charge of hosting and helping any representatives they send?"

Hellraiser used her glass of brandy to hide her smile at Lufey's stricken look.

Wednesday, June 2, 1995, Evening.

"Wah! Please don't be making us leave!"

Hermione and Jasmine were both getting their robes soaked by a pair of wailing house elves. At first Dobby had been crying and sniffling into Jasmine's robes while Winky did the same with Hermione. Before long, however, they switched, and not long after that they switched back and started all over again. Neither of the two witches was particularly happy at the display, but neither had the heart to put a stop to it, either. It was, after all, entirely their fault that this was happening.

Professor McGonagall had finally heard back from her muggle friend who handled the harvesting and disposal of magical creatures, and he thought that house elves could probably learn how to do it. He had agreed to teach two of them in exchange for ten percent of the total value of what was sold and enough of the hide to make three short-sleeved tunics, which Jasmine thought was a terrific deal.

Hermione and Jasmine then asked Winky and Dobby if they would be willing to learn those skills so they could take care of the basilisk corpse in the Chamber of Secrets. That was when the trouble started. No house elf had ever been able to truly differentiate between a request and a command, not even an elf as independently minded as Dobby. On the one hand, both elves were thrilled that they would be learning new things and would then be given a huge, complex, and messy task — the messier, the better! On the other hand, it would require that they be separated from their mistresses for two months — wherever they were going, it was too far away to pop back and forth, so once Dobby and Winky had left, they would be committed.

And right now, they were waiting for the time when the portkey would activate, carrying the two devoted house elves to an unknown place where they'd be taught by a completely unknown person. It was only the witches' trust in McGonagall that brought them to this point. She had assured them that he was not only as brave and chivalrous as a Gryffindor, but also as trustworthy and loyal as a Hufflepuff, despite not being magical and never having attended Hogwarts.

"How will mistresses be coping?" cried Winky. "Who be doing mistresses' laundry? Hic! Who be making mistresses' beds? Hic!"

"Who be watching over mistresses?" sobbed Dobby. "Who be protecting their secrets? Who be guarding their meetings?"

"It's all right," Hermione said, "It's not that bad."

"Wah!" Winky cried, even louder now. "Missy Hermy not be needing her Winky anymore!"

"No, no!" Hermione said in a rush. "That's not it at all! I do need you, really! I just mean that I'll manage." Seeing that Winky still looked stricken, she continued, "Somehow. Badly, I'm sure, and I can't wait until you're back because I'm just pants at, well, everything!"

"Really?" Winky asked in a hopeful voice.

"Absolutely!" Hermione lied. "Why, I'll... I'll probably be half dead by the time you return!"

"Wah!" Winky cried out again. "Missy Hermy be needing her Winky! Winky cannot be leaving!"

"Don't worry," Jasmine interjected, elbowing her girlfriend hard in the side. "I'll keep her alive, and she'll keep me alive." The last was added hastily when she saw Dobby about to cry out. "It won't be easy, but it'll be worth it because we know that you'll come back to us as the best trained, most skilled elves in all of magical Britain!"

"Truly?" Dobby asked in wonderment.

"Truly!" Jasmine reassured them. "We want you to be the best, and we're willing to sacrifice a bit in order to see that it happens. That's what family does: sacrifice to help each other. That's a big part of what love is all about, and love is what makes a family." Jasmine looked at her watch and saw that it was almost time to go. "Here," she said, shoving a broken broom handle into their hands. "Only ten seconds until it activates."

"Bye, Winky! Bye, Dobby!" the witches said in unison as they waved. "We'll miss you!"

Once the elves were gone, Jasmine turned and fixed her girlfriend with a glare. "'I'll be half dead by the time you get back?' What in Morgana's name were you thinking?"

"I panicked!" Hermione whinged. "I'm sorry, I'm not used to comforting crying elves. Or crying anything, for that matter."

"Yeah, well, we're just lucky that they didn't grab us again before the portkey left," Jasmine said irritably. "Who knows where we might have ended up."

Winky and Dobby stared up in mute horror at the figure before them, hugging each other and quivering in fear. Tall, dark-haired, well-muscled, and wearing an eye patch, the muggle looming over them would have been scary and imposing even without the large axe he carried.

"So," he said in a voice they were sure was full of hidden menace, no matter how friendly it seemed, "you're the elves I'm supposed to teach?"

They nodded vigorously, their bat-like ears flapping all over the place. The man looked like he was trying to hide a smile as he asked, "What are your names?"

"I be Dobby, and this be Winky," Dobby answered in a tremulous voice.

"Dobby and Winky?" the man repeated, now smiling openly. "Really? With names like those, I think you'll fit in just fine around here." He held out a large, calloused hand and introduced himself. "You can call me Xander."

Tuesday, June 15, 1995. Evening.

At the end of another session of practical defense instruction for the inter-house study group, which was also now the core membership of both S.P.E.W. (no one had come up with a better name yet, and it wasn't from a lack of trying) and the DA, Jasmine and Hermione asked the witches — including Professor McGonagall — to remain for a few minutes longer because they had something important to discuss. The wizards looked a bit put out by that, but they were assured that it specifically concerned witches and no offense was intended.

Once they were alone, Jasmine explained, "As you may or may not know, Hermione and I have been spending a lot of time with the other champions, including French champion Fleur Delacour. As a part of that, Fleur has over the course of the year invited us to a couple of ritual holiday celebrations. We asked and she agreed to let us invite all of you to the next one, Midsummer's Eve."

"It'll be the night before the third task," Hermione added, "and the rituals are all-female — veela and French witches. That's why we're talking to just you."

The expressions on the witches' faces ranged from surprised to intrigued to calculating. "Have you really participated in multiple ritual celebrations?" Hannah asked excitedly.

"Three, to be exact," Jasmine responded.

"The Ministry disapproves of them, claiming that they're dark or superstitious," Daphne pointed out cautiously.

"True," Hermione admitted, "but I can assure you that there's nothing the least bit dark about anything we've done or seen others do. The rituals can, however, be very powerful, especially when there are more people participating."

"Will the Midsummer's Eve celebration be large?" Susan asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "I don't think so. Fleur said that she wanted to have something a little smaller for your first time. Beltane was absolutely huge, and I'm sure that this won't be anything of that magnitude."

"You were at the Beltane celebration?" Padma asked in awe. "The one the Headmaster warned us against going to?"

McGonagall rolled her eyes as Jasmine slapped her hand over her mouth. "Never mind her," Hermione said. "Sometimes she speaks without thinking. If we had been at the Beltane ritual, it would have been huge and utterly amazing. Mind-bogglingly amazing, I'm sure. But we weren't. So we can only speculate at how incredibly transformative it was. Or would have been, I mean."

The witches all shot each other knowing looks before one by one, they accepted the invitation. None of them were truly certain about whether it was a good idea or not, but they'd all heard stories about the rituals conducted in the old days, and they were all certain that they'd never find a better, safer opportunity to experience such a thing themselves. Susan was the most apprehensive, knowing how much her aunt would disapprove. Padma was the most curious, eager to learn something new. And Daphne was the most calculating, guessing that there was more going on than there appeared to be and hopeful about the opportunities this could open up.

After the others had left, McGonagall asked her two Gryffindors, "Are you sure about inviting me? Don't you want to just do it with your classmates? With witches your own age?"

Both Jasmine and Hermione looked aghast at the idea. "Professor, you were the first person we thought of inviting!" Hermione insisted.

"Yeah," Jasmine added, "there's no one else we'd like to share the experience of a ritual celebration with more than you!"

McGonagall made a point of staying ahead of them as they walked to the Gryffindor tower so they wouldn't see the unshed tears in her eyes.

Sunday, June 20, 1995, Night.

"Correct!" Hermione said happily, then leaned over and gave Jasmine a passionate kiss. "You got every question right! Let's work on Charms next."

Hermione reached down under her bed and exchanged her Potions text for Charms so she could start quizzing her girlfriend on the other final exam they'd have the next day.

As one of the Triwizard Tournament champions, Jasmine didn't have to sit for any of the exams, and being exempt had been one of the only things Jasmine appreciated about being forced into the tournament. Hermione, in contrast, hadn't appreciated it at all and thought it was scandalous that Jasmine planned on skipping the exams. Didn't she realize that if she couldn't be sure that she properly learned the material this year, she'd be in much worse shape next year? And next year was their OWL year! Skipping her exams was the absolute worst thing she could do.

Hermione had been working to change Jasmine's mind about that ever since November 1st, but with little success at first. It was only after they had become a romantic couple that Hermione had a breakthrough — and even then, she knew she couldn't rush it. She had to play a long game, and starting on Valentine's Day she began to offer "incentives" and "rewards" to Jasmine — first for doing essays quickly and efficiently, then later for getting correct answers when revising for tests.

Once this new system had been fully implemented, Jasmine had no problems with revising, and Hermione found it relatively easy to convince the auburn-haired witch to revise for final exams. And what's the point of revising if you don't sit for the exams, too? The only concession that she had to make was for an extra reward at the end of a revision session for doing especially well — and to help them both relax. Truth be told, it wasn't really all that much of a concession on Hermione's part, but she put up a token resistance for appearance's sake.

Fortunately Jasmine persisted in her demand, and now she was doing so well that it looked like she would end up earning that extra reward — and then some. Hermione smiled inwardly and thought, If I'd known that rewards like that were such a great way to get revising done, I'd have started doing this ages ago.

After asking her first question, she looked up and noticed that Jasmine was deep in thought with her tongue poking out the side of her mouth just a little bit. Did she… did she always do that? Hermione asked herself. Or is this a recent thing?

Slowly, as Jasmine worked out the answer, her tongue slid sideways, wetting her lips before it curled up ever so slightly, then slipped back in. Hermione felt herself go flush with heat and completely missed Jasmine's answer. Maybe we can skip Charms tonight and study it tomorrow, she thought as her book slipped from her fingers and she pounced on her girlfriend.

Jasmine stretched out on her bed, feeling completely relaxed and at peace. Hermione's arms and legs were wrapped around her as she drifted off to sleep. Jasmine felt rather proud of herself for having made it through revising for an entire subject before breaking down and tempting her girlfriend into abandoning revision in favor of the rewards.

Smiling, she thought to herself, If I'd known that revising was such a great way to get rewards like that, I'd have started doing this ages ago.