A/N So I definitely forgot that last week was an upload week, and by the time I realised it was too late so I'm just posting it today. My bad. On the bright side, there's 2000 more words than usual.

I was going to end this chapter after the second task, but then I thought, 'Well what about that idea I had' so now we have this ending sooner. I've noticed that the tracks I laid for the story and the pre-writings for the later years are now basically useless because of all the new ideas I've introduced, so I'm writing it all from almost scratch now, sort of negating the prewritten parts I talked about near the beginning. Anyway...

As always, unbeta-ed, sorry if I miss any errors.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or Supernatural, or anything belonging to J.K. Rowling or Eric Kripke, I'm just using the characters for fun. I receive no money off of this story. Don't sue me.

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Chapter 21: The Yule Ball (And Other Problems)

The next few days were passed in the library, once again researching the tournament. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were at their usual posts, dividing the work to best fit their strengths, but the new setup included Fred, George, and Cedric, speeding up their work significantly. They'd pulled books on all sorts of things, including magical creatures that could make noises like the eggs had produced, curses that resulted in the screeching, and some research on the design of the egg and how it might factor into the clue. So far, they had vague lists of possibilities that would take time to narrow down, and Harry was ready to slam her head onto the library table. For all that she enjoyed research, several days of fruitless reading was getting to her.

She was distracted from her frustration somewhat the next day, when Hagrid had decided to use the students as shepherds for the not-at-all sheep-like Skrewts. Most of the class had rushed to hide in his house when he'd announced their task, waving at the loose Skrewts, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a few unlucky students to wrangle them. Of course, Ron had to curse their luck when he shouted that "At least it couldn't get any worse!"

Harry managed to herd a Skrewt into its box, looking up to track the others' progress, only to see a flash of curly blonde hair making its way down to the class. Hagrid agreed to an interview with the witch despite the trio's negative motions.

"Well, as long as he didn't import the Skrewts illegally, then Hagrid should be fine," Worried Hermione. They were slogging back up the hill to the castle, hoping to change out of their singed robes before their next class. Harry gave her a sardonic look, before turning back to focus on not tripping in her exhaustion.

"He's gone for," stated Ron.

Harry watched Ron and Hermione leave for their Divination and Arithmancy classes, happy to have a free period to herself. She waited for class change to end before climbing out of the common room, following the path to a certain dot on the Marauder's Map. Eventually, she made it to the third floor, where Peeves was floating outside of the Charms classroom, staring aimlessly at the door.

"Are you waiting to attack them?" The poltergeist turned to her, a strange look on his face. "I need some help with Fred and George. They tried to get me to eat a Canary Cream last night, and that's just unacceptable." Peeves just stared at her with that same, blank look. "Peeves? Are you alright?"

The ghost smiled brokenly, tilting his head before turning and going back to just floating, translucent eyes trained on the grainy wood texture of the door. "Baron said not to make a mess."

Harry was a little hesitant then, watching the normally energetic ghost stare brokenly at the door. "And that stopped you?" Peeves looked at her again, as if she was something new that his mind couldn't comprehend.

"I am tired." He smiled again. "I am dead." He chuckled then, a broken sound that was a remnant of the old Peeves' hysterical cackling. Harry walked away from the scene, truly distrubed by the ghosts' behavior. She wandered through the halls, thinking about what could have caused such an abrupt turnaround, when she almost walked through Nearly-Headless Nick. He drifted through a wall, and Harry hurried after him, going through the door to her left to catch him.

"Nick!" The ghost turned. "Have you noticed anything wrong with Peeves? Is he playing a weird prank on the school by acting all… wrong?" Nick's eyes darted to her and her surroundings, his hands wringing each other out. Harry paused, taking in the spectre in front of her. His shoulders were bent, his ruff haphazard. "Nick, is there something wrong with you?" She asked, uncertain.

"No, no, nothing's wrong!" He glanced around again. "I'm afraid I have somewhere to be, Miss Potter. I really must be going." He turned, quickly gliding away from the witch. Harry just stood there, mouth half open, wondering what the hell was going on. First a tired and seemingly sad Peeves when he was usually so energetic and, well, awful. And now Nearly-Headless Nick acting frightened, where he was usually one to stand his ground and lecture you about his ruff. Harry supposed she had some research to do.

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An hour and no answers later, Harry was interrupted by the sight of Ron walking into the library.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron looked around.

"I dunno. I thought she'd be in here."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're a bit dense?"

"Oi!"

"I suppose we should find her. She is rather prone to finding trouble."

"Mate, I don't know what school you've been going to, cause it;'s definitely not Hermione who's the trouble finder."

"Just let me have my moment."

"Harry! Ron!"

"Oh look, there she is." The bookworm ran up to the both of them as they were exiting the doors of the library, grabbing onto their robes and dragging them down the corridor.

"Hermione?! Stop it!"

"You've got to come see this, the most amazing thing has happened!" She gave a particularly harsh tug, and Harry fell in step with her so as to not risk damage to herself or her robes. After several minutes of questions aimed at Hermione, who ignored every one in her excited frenzy, the trip stopped in front of a large painting of a bowl of fruit. Ron, at least, immediately recognized where they were.

"Hermione, you're not going to drag us into that spew stuff again, are you?"

"It's not 'spew', it's S.P.E.W."

"Yah Ron, don't be offensive, and speak for yourself! I myself am a proud member of the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare."

"So you're both bloody insane now?"

"Ron I'm being perfectly reasonable, just as any person would find the use of slaves unreasonable!"

"Hermione! They like work!"

"How do you know that?! Have you ever actually asked them!?" Ron's ears pinkened.

"Well, uh, no, but-"

"Ron, maybe just hush up for a bit," Harry advised. Hermione stuck her nose up at the ginger, turning to tickle the pear in the painting. A door handle morphed from the paint, allowing Hermione to open the door and usher the two of them in.

"Besides, I'm not really here about S.P.E.W. right now, I just thought that Harry might like to-"

"Harriet Potter!" Something small and spindly crashed into Harry's legs, making her stumble just a bit. She looked down for the threat, and was immediately assaulted by the loud pattern of what looked like a tea cozy. The offender stepped back, and Harry recognized her attacker. She'd fought off this opponent before.

"Bloody Hell."

"Dobby?" The elf preened, lifting his chin in the air.

"Dobby is most happy to see Harriet Potter again, miss."

"Just Harry, Dobby."

"Dobby is most happy to see Just Harry again. Dobby is sorry."

"No-"

"Dobby has been hoping and hoping to go see Harry Potter again, but Harry Potter is coming to see him, miss!"

"What are you doing here?" She asked, still stuck on the tea cozy amidst the hats

"Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts! Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs!"

"Winky's here? Crouch's elf?"

"Yes miss! She is being dismissed, and Dobby is finding her. 'Why isn't Dobby and Winky finding work together?' Dobby says, and 'Where is there enough work for two house-elves?' says Winky. So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore together!" The elf led them over to a spot by the fire, where a very sad looking Winky sat, staring into the flames. Harry listened with half an ear to Dobby's conversation with Hermione about pay and vacation, her eyes tracing the depressed form of the elf she'd sat near at the Quidditch Cup.

"And how much is Professor paying you, Winky?" Hermione asked, provoking a sudden change in the elf. Her shoulders tensed, and she turned to glare at Hermione.

"Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" She stomped her foot, rumpling her already dirty skirt. "Winky is not so disgraced that she wants pay! Winky is properly ashamed of being free!" The elf sat back down with a hitched cry at the word 'free', and Hermione ushered forwards to console her, but only made things worse. Harry caught sight of the elves around the peripheral, staring at them like they were dangerous and unseemly.

Soon after, they were leaving the kitchens with promises to Dobby to visit, and the strange knowledge that Mr. Crouch was suspicious of Bagman.

"You know, I'd still rather work for Bagman than Crouch."

"Really? Under any circumstances?"

"What?" Ron looked up, just in time as he was about to crash into a set of armour.

"Well what if he was a Death Eater?" Harry asked.

"Harry, come on. If Bagman's a Death Eater, then I'll eat Percy's old underwear! There's no way."

"Why, because he's funny?" Hermione interjected.

"Well, sort of, but-"

"Are you saying that not a single Death Eater is funny? I don't know if that's how to weigh peoples trustworthiness Ronald," Harry stated matter-of-factly.

"Hold on, I didn't say-"

"Honestly, I think you're being sort of judgemental. I mean, just because some people prefer murder to laughter doesn't mean they can't make a joke. Take Voldemort for example. I mean, he had to have some sense of humor. Otherwise, why would he make Quirrell Stumble around all year stuttering and acting stupid?"

"Uh, active camouflage?" Hermione put it.

"Well, yes, but think about it. There can't have been much to do on the back of a head, besides watch him wipe his butt, but for some reason I don't find much entertainment value in that. The stuttering might have been part of the camouflage, but what about the whole garlic thing? I definitely saw some of that stuck in his turban. What reason would he have to do that other than for Voldemort's enjoyment of all the funny looks he would get?"

"Harry…"

"Hmm?"

"Oh, leave it Hermione, she's not normal."

Line break

Harry was not alright. Professor McGonagall had just announced the Yule Ball, where she would have to find a date and dance in front of everyone. With a date. She slumped down in her library chair, unwilling in the face of this new task.

"Oh, cheer up Harry. You'll be fine. I bet loads of people will ask you." Harry waved off Ron's surprising logic.

"That doesn't mean I want to go with them! I can't dance alone, much less in front of everyone!"

"Then get some lessons."

"From who?!"

"I don't know, I'm just trying to help here." Ron turned out to be right, as over the next few weeks, a number of people did ask her, although she wasn't exactly thrilled with the turnout. An older boy named Cormac McLaggen, in particular, was quite uncharming. Hermione was amused over her and Ron's fortunes.

"Well, why don't you ask someone then?" She asked, sitting on Harry's bed with the curtains drawn and silenced.

"There's no one that I'd want to ask."

"What about-"

"Cedric is going with Cho Chang. And he wouldn't go with me anyway. I'm too young."

"Well I'm going with someone his age, so I don't think so." Harry smirked.

"Krum finally managed to ask you out?"

"How did you know that?!"

"It's obvious, Hermione! Everytime we're in the library, he's pretty much staring at you." She rolled her eyes. "You know, this means that I get to tease you like you teased me about Cedric." The bookworm blushed.

"You can't tell anyone! Please, Harry?"

"Well, alright." They sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments.

"Why don't you ask Ron?" Hermione offered. They stared at each other before simultaneously declaring, "No."

"What about Neville?" Harry asked.

"He's going with Ginny."

'Dammit."

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"Okay, step-slide, step-slide, step- No, go backwards. The other backwards. Harry, how are you so bad at this?" Harry looked up at Loki, who was leaning against the tree with a lollipop stuck in his mouth, most likely enjoying watching her stumble around with an invisible partner. "It was funny for the first twenty minutes or so, but now it's just sort of sad."

"I hate you."

"Ouch. I'm hurt."

"These stupide steps don't make any sense!" Loki sighed, moving forwards to stand in front of her.

"Okay, look, just pretend you're fighting one of those things that go bump in the night. Get out your knife." Harry rolled her eyes, obliging. "Okay, step forwards like you're going to jab it, then to the left for a slice, then back to dodge, then right for another slice, and repeat. Turn in a circle a little as you do it for good measure." Harry blew breath out of her nose before moving forwards like he said. Surprisingly enough, she didn't fail in the first cycle, or the second or third. The fourth time, she did trip on a tree root, but she'd pretty much learned the basic steps.

"Huh. It worked."

"Don't sound so surprised, you'll hurt an old guy's feelings."

"That would be just terrible, wouldn't it?"

"None of that sass, missy. Now, I do remember a promise of chocolate in return for my help." Harry pulled out the Honeydukes bars, tossing them to the trickster.

"How come you can't just get this stuff yourself?" Loki answered with his mouth half full of chocolate.

"It tastes better as an offering. Plus I was banned from the store a few hundred years ago due to a slight mishap when I may have gorged myself in the store." She stared at him for a long moment. "What?! I was pregnant with Sleipnir and I had a craving."

"I… You know what, nevermind. I don't need to unpack that. I had another favor I needed to ask."

"What am I, the blue fairy?"

"What?"

"Ah, nevermind. What's up?"

"Sirius Black. He's still not… well. I think Azkaban really damaged his mental health, and now he's on the run. I just don't want anything to happen to him."

"He was a good kid. A good follower."

"Just, could you check up on him occasionally? It doesn't have to be in person." Loki looked at Harry with a critical eye, before nodding.

"Sure thing, kid. He's one of my own, I'll make sure he gets back on his feet."

"Thanks, Loki."

"No, I should be doing this anyway. I don't like abandoning people." His words had more meaning than Harry could decipher in the moment. "See ya."

Goodnight."

"Have fun at the dance! Oh, who're you going with?"

"As of now? No one."

"Well, if you needed me to cast a lust spell or-"

"Loki!"

"Alright, sheesh. Just trying to help."

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"Ron, we need to borrow Pigwidgeon." Fred and George appeared out of nowhere behind Ron's chair in the Common Room.

"What for?"

"We're going to ask him to the dance."

"What do you think, we need to write a letter."

"Don't mind him, he's just upset because he tried to ask out Fleur Delacour, and she just gave him this look like he was dirt on her shoe. I would've defended him, only he was drooling and did look a bit gross so…"

"Who do you keep writing to?" Ron asked, glaring at Harry as he changed the subject. He then realised he was actually curious, his face scrunched in confusion.

"So you've noticed that too?" Harry asked. "Personally, I think they're managing their drug mafia, and no one will suspect a tiny owl like that to be carrying kilos of shrunken cocaine." Everyone stared at Harry. "Can't I make jokes sometimes?" Fred rolled his eyes and turned back to his younger brother.

"Just keep your nose out of it." There was a moment of awkward silence. "So, you two have dates for the ball yet?"

"No," Ron replied sullenly.

"Well, you'd better hurry up then, or all the good men will be gone."

"For the last time. I. Am. Not. Gay!"

"I am." Everyone turned to look at Ginny in astonishment. She lifted her head from where it had been leaning against the couch next to them. "Surprise."

"Good for you, Ginny." Harry gave her a fistbump. "Stick it to the patriarchy."

"I thought you were going with Neville to the dance?" Hermione asked.

"We're friends. And I wouldn't have been able to go otherwise." Ron shook himself out of his shock to turn to the twins.

"If it's so easy, who are you going with?"

"Angelina," Fred answered immediately.

"What? You've already asked her?"

"Good point." Harry rolled her eyes. "OI! Angelina!" The Chaser in question turned.

"What?"

"Do you wanna go to the ball with me?"

"Sure." She turned back to her conversation with Katie, a grin on her face.

"See. Easy."

"Well who's George going with?" Ron shot back.

"I'm keeping my options open." Inspiration struck Harry.

"What if you went with me, George, for the opening dance, then you could just wander off to have your own fun?" He put his finger to his chin, considering, then stuck out his hand.

"Deal." Harry shook it, suddenly feeling like she was entering one of Crowley's agreements. Ron's face turned red.

"Why does everyone have a date but me?!" His eyes widened. "Wait, Hermione! You're a girl."

"Well spotted."

"Ron, I don't think-"

"Well, you can go with me!"

"No I can't, Ronald." She shifted, lifting her chin into the air. "I happen to have a date."

"Who?" Ron asked, a dangerous amount of surprise on his face.

"I'm not telling you."

"You probably don't even have a date and you're just saying that because I only just asked you."

"Ron, really, you should stop now-" Harry caught sight of Fred and George, both shaking their heads and suddenly supplied with popcorn as they watched the exchange.

"Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean someone else hasn't figured out that I'm a girl!

"Okay, you're a girl. Now will you come with me?" He asked in an overly-complacent voice.

"I've already told you, I'm going with someone else!" She stood and stormed off.

"She's lying," Ron said after a moment.

"She's not," muttered Ginny.

"You're gonna feel terrible when you see her date." Harry stood, giving Ron a compulsory slap about the head, then walked off after Hermione.

"Well, I might not even go, seeing as I don't have one!" Ginny stared at him for a long moment.

"I know someone who would go with you."

"Who?"

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There was a Hogsmeade weekend right before the ball, so that anyone without dress robes could find something to wear. Naturally, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny headed to Twilfitts and Tattings, while Ron stayed behind, sulking in the Three Broomsticks, until they finished and met up with him.

"So your Mum only decided to get Ron a dress?"

"I didn't even know if I was going."

"That's fair." They strolled through the aisles, pulling out dresses and showing them to one another, asking for opinions. Harry found what looked like a bright yellow flapper dress, and offered it to Hermione, who rejected it with a slap at Harry's arm.

Eventually, they each had a few dresses to try on, and they sat on the couches in front of the dressing rooms for an impromptu fashion show. Harry and Ginny booed as Hermione came out in the pink version of a dress she'd liked, and Hermione ended up buying the blue version of a pretty dress with a flowy skirt. Ginny picked out a light-green dress with pink accents, but Harry and Hermione managed to convince her to try on a red one instead. She bought it with help from the other two witches as an early Christmas present. Harry was a little hesitant on what to buy, but ended up purchasing a dark-green dress with the help of the other two.

"Holy shit. It has pockets!" Harry practically yelled in the middle of the store, leading to Hermione gasping and sticking her hands in the almost invisible pockets of her dress. Ginny just gave them a weird look.

"And that's exciting because?" Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

"I love magic." Soon after, Harry called on Dobby, who readily agreed to deliver their dresses to their dorms so they wouldn't have to carry them around all day.

They stepped out of the shop, bracing against the cold until Hermione conjured some of her bluebell flames, distributing them among the group. Harry squinted, looking at her smile as she passed out the jars.

'Hermione… what happened to your teeth?" The girl blushed red, a suspicious smile adorning her face.

"Well, there are so many ways to magically fix teeth, but my parents wanted me to go through with braces. Except, I was looking through one of the spellbooks for the tournament, and there was this tooth growing hex."

"I remember. I also distinctly remember us putting that in the not-useful category, because I didn't want to face a dragon with even larger fangs."

"Right, well, I might have cast that on myself-"

"Hermione!"

"And then I went to Madam Pomfrey so she could shrink them, only I told her to stop when they were like this." Harry was silent for a long moment.

I'm so proud." She leapt forward to grab Hermione in a hug and spin her around. The witch let out a surprised laugh, slapping at Harry's shoulder.

"Put me down, you oaf!"

"That was so sneaky of you!" Harry set down the witch, suddenly stern. "Have I been a bad influence on you?"

"The worst." Harry grinned again, pointing at Hermione.

"And you're learning!" She turned around again, leading the way while Ginny and Hermione laughed behind her.

Harry looked around Hogsmeade while she strolled down the street, watching for trouble, as one does. She caught a flash of black hair darting around a corner, along with a tail. Harry was distracted enough by ruling out that the dog could be Sirius, that she didn't stop in time before bumping into someone exiting a bookshop to her left. She looked up, apologising unconsciously, when she caught sight of a familiar face.

"Miss Potter." Hermione and Ginny stopped behind her, wary at the stranger.

"Mr. Ketch, was it? What brings you back to Hogsmeade." Harry palmed her wand as the other two girls tried to read the situation.

"Business, as usual. In fact, I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Discuss? I would think you'd be more inclined to throw some spells at me."

"The Agent you knew as 'Professor Corbyn' makes up a very small population of our organization, I assure you. The rest of us are much more subtle when it comes to eliminating our counterparts."

"Subtle is the word, is it?" Ketch smirked, gesturing to the Three Broomsticks ahead of them.

"Shall we?" Harry didn't move her eyes from Ketch, speaking to Hermione and Ginny behind her.

"You guys go on, I'll meet you and Ron in a minute." Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm, ushering her past the pair and glancing back at Harry with a concerned expression. When the two were safely past the doors, Harry moved forward to fall in step beside Ketch. They entered the pub, grabbing a table in the corner. Harry caught sight of Hermione and Ginny talking to an openmouther Ron, glancing around nervously, presumably for herself.

"I would think you'd want to discuss business in a more private setting."

"Miss Potter, you do have much to learn. A crowded area is louder, more distracted. It's harder to hear secrets over the noise of an excited bar." He leaned back in his seat, nodding his thanks when a server swept by with drinks Harry wasn't aware he'd ordered. She looked dubiously down at her own cup of Butterbeer. He rolled his eyes.

"It's not poisoned, you know." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Fine." Ketch poured some of her drink into his own flagon, taking a sip. "See?"

"How do I know you haven't just built up an immunity to iocane powder?"

"This isn't the Princess Bride."

"I'm surprised you got that reference, Mr. Robot."

"I'm detached, not inhuman."

"Okay, Terminator." She took a sip of her drink, nodding when she didn't immediately fall dead. "So, what's this business you want to talk about."

"As you know, the Men of Letters finds the profession of 'Hunter' to be somewhat… distasteful."

"Yah, cause you're all snobby elitist racists."

"If we could keep the insults- Racists? When have we ever exhibited such behavior?"

"Well, you seem to think that all monsters exist to be slaughtered, even though the Magicals are more stable and humanlike."

"Your interpretation of the term disturbs me."

"Ya know, you didn't object to the snobby or elitist parts." He sighed, looking up before letting his gaze settle back on her.

"Regardless, we don't keep contact with hunters, instead relying on our sensors to track and eliminate any incoming monsters. This includes the appearance of the paranormal, specifically, ghosts. However, the population of ghosts leans distinctly towards the magical side, due to what our researchers believe to be the large concentration of magic within the UK. And our researchers have further found that, well-"

"The ghosts are acting up." Harry recalled Peeves' behavior, and the strangeness she'd seen in the other ghosts.

"So you've noticed something too."

"Yes. There's a poltergeist in the castle-"

"Agent Blakely included that in one of his reports. He found it strange that the school had yet to dispel it." He tilted his chin up. "Why haven't you gotten rid of it?"

"I'm tempted some days, but he makes a good partner sometimes. Plus, sometimes the place needs a bit of chaos."

"You are insane." He said it clinically, like it was a realization he'd just made that put all the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Some days." He shook his head, and she took another sip of her drink while waggling her eyebrows. "About the history professor… The new one isn't a spy, right? I mean, she's been a pretty good teacher, but the past two history professors have tried to kill me, so statistically, well…"

"No, she isn't an agent. As if we would make such an obvious mistake."

"Well, I've been periodically running her credentials anyway." He rolled his eyes, changing the topic.

"The Men of Letters has recorded a number of behavioral changes in the ghosts we monitor, but we have little to no research of the non-magical side of the curtain. I've been tasked with offering you a job."

"I already rejected your offer last year, after seeing what a bunch of pricks you all are."

"You just love to overgeneralize, don't you?"

"It's a weakness."

"I'm not offering you acceptance into the agency, I don't even think they would allow it after your stunts last year, despite my employer's wish for you to join them as a legacy and as a powerful asset."

"Was that a compliment?"

"We're offering you a job, a one-time contract for you to report back some of your experiences with the non-magical ghosts, should you come into contact with them. We will, of course, dispense the proper payment for the amount you can help." Harry narrowed her eyes at him.

"See, it's a nice offer, but I'm still not over the whole 'Magicals are inhuman, and should be killed even if they're nice Defense Professors that pass out chocolate' thing. I'd rather not tie myself to an organization that believes in that kind of supremacy."

"Oh, come on. You're a hunter, you kill monsters just like us!"

"Yes, but I kill the ones that deserve it!"

"What makes you think you can decide that?"

"I kill monsters that kill others. I hunt the monsters that either can't stop themselves, or won't when it comes to murder and other viscious acts. I don't hunt people who have problems that can be controlled and regulated . That's your game."

"That's a touching sentiment, but what happens when you make a mistake, hmm? When you trust the wrong monster and then they kill someone else?"

"Then that's on me, which means I have to be amazing at choosing who to trust, and right now I don't trust the bloody Men of Letters!" He leaned forward, anger etched onto his normally imperceptible features.

"This isn't about trust! Something is happening! Something that is affecting an entire population of spirits, who shouldn't be affected by any worldly thing!" He stopped, taking a breath before lowering his voice and hissing at her. "You say you don't care for the Men of Letters, fine. But you must care about what's happening, and you can do something to figure out what that is by working with us! Even if we are the monsters that you claim we are, we're trying to figure out what is happening, and stop it if it is something that will harm people. You must want to do the same!" Harry frowned, biting her lip as she considered the offer. She'd worked with people she didn't like before. Crowley sprung to mind, as someone she shouldn't have trusted but worked with anyways. She did want to find out what was going on with the ghosts, even if it meant Peeves went back to his normal terrible self.

"I suppose… that you're right," She admitted.

"Did that hurt?"

"I'm agreeing to work with you, don't go and mess it up."

"Like pulling teeth…" He muttered.

"Why'd they send you anyway? There must be someone higher up in the food chain." Ketch rolled his eyes.

"If you must know, yes, it is my first official year as an agent. But my superiors decided that since you already were familiar with me that I would have a better chance of gaining your trust."

"Wow. Well that didn't work, did it?"

"You're intolerable." He pulled out a pad of paper. "I suppose we need to figure out the terms of this arrangement."

"Alright. Hold on a moment." Harry reached into her pocket, pulling out a small notebook with 'Crowley' on the cover. She flipped it open, uncapping the pen and writing a message in it. Ketch leaned over the table subtly, curious, and she pulled the notebook towards her, shaking her finger reprimanding.

I could use your help here, if you're available. The Three Broomsticks. Best appear outside and walk in.

She felt the book warm in response, and looked down to see a 'Fine' written in surprisingly fancy handwriting appear below her own scratchy script.

"What are we waiting for?" Ketch asked, impatient.

"That." The doors to the pub opened, letting in a short man in a long coat. He made his way towards Harry's table.

"Who are you?"

"He's here to make sure I don't get cheated out of anything. Alright, terms, what've you got?" Ketch paused for a moment, before shrugging slightly and going back to his paper.

"For every piece of relevant information, a sum of money proportional to the worth of the information-"

"I don't need money. I've got plenty." His jaw tightened.

"Well then how do you suggest this is going to work?" Harry looked at Crowley, who nodded and turned to Ketch.

"I believe she would prefer an exchange of information."

"What?"

"You know, I tell you about ghosts, you tell me about something else that I ask about. This way, I'm your informant, and you're mine." Ketch stared at her for a long time, before nodding.

"That would be tolerable, I suppose. I'll have to talk to my bosses. As for a meeting point-"

"She'll inform you of a proper point."

"Pardon me?"

"You're excused. Harry will send you the place to meet when she has information for you. This way, if you decide to ambush her, it will be on her terms."

"And if she decides to ambush me?"

"Why would she do that? Go on, look at that face, the picture of innocence." Harry did her best puppy eyes, to which Ketch looked disgusted, and Crowley laughed. "That's disturbing considering I know that you regularly torture demons."

"What?"

"Do our terms seem agreeable to you, Mr. Ketch?"

"I suppose they're alright. I can give a final agreement when my superiors approve it."

"Alright then. I'll see you soon, Harriet."

"By Crowley. Thanks."

"No, thank you. Now you owe me a favor."

"Glad we sorted out that division of power." The demon left through the doors again, leaving Harry at the table with Ketch and an almost finished mug. "Is that it?"

"One other thing. How far along have you gotten in that journal I gave you?"

"Not as far as I should have. Why?" She was suddenly suspicious when he tried to appear nonchalant.

"No reason. It's just that your grandmother was a great agent, according to the records. But she just disappeared, for some reason, and I can't find much about your mother in the employee archives, which is strange because there's usually an attempt to recruit legacies."

"Did you think I would tell you, if I'd figured it out?"

"I'm not sure. You seem to be full of surprises, like that demon you just used as a lawyer." Harry was mildly surprised that he'd recognized Crowley as a demon, and slightly impressed.

"How'd you figure that out?"

"Lucky guess. All Men of Letters' are required to do a certain amount of reading on monsters during their training. The name Crowley rings a bell, I read about him in a book on crossroad demons." He leaned forward. "Why would a hunter be dealing with a demon?"

"I haven't sold him my soul, if you must know. He and I have a similar sort of arrangement to the one you and me just made."

"Well, that's interesting."

"I'm sure your bosses will find it interesting too. Don't try and hold it over my head as leverage, it won't work out."

"I wouldn't dream of it." For some reason, Harry didn't believe him. She finished her drink.

"Well, this hasn't been fun. I'll let you know when I have something about the ghosts."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I have my ways. Bye Ketch."

"Potter." He nodded, exiting the building as Harry walked over to Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.

"What was that, Harry?"

"Oh, just some business. I'll tell you about it later."

.

.

Later that night, she cracked open her grandmother's journal for the first time in a few months. She'd stopped reading right around the time that her grandma seemed to become suspicious of her agency, and the further Harry read, the more she understood the sudden change in personality. She also noted the appearance of a new figure, someone her grandmother recorded as 'F'.

An hour later, Harry shut the book after finishing a passage about Rose's boss, a Frost character. The writing hadn't been very complimentary for him, and Harry had a feeling Frost had something to do with the hush over her grandma.

She vanished the floating lights she'd been using to read by, settling down to sleep, her mind brimming with ideas.

.

.

On Christmas morning, Harry was once again awoken by the instinct to attack. She did manage to pull her arm back before she clocked Dobby, trying to calm the elf as he apologized for startling her.

"Really, Dobby, it's fine. What're you doing here anyway?"

"Dobby has presents!" Harry was pulled into the boys dorm by Hermione, sitting down next to Ron with the house-elf on the other side of her. She set down her pile of gifts, opening Dobby's first and finding a very colorful pair of socks. She was genuinely touched by the gesture.

"Dobby, these are great, thanks." She grabbed the socks on her feet, waving her hand and changing them into socks patterned with little house-elves blasting back a little Malfoy-like figure. "Here."

"Socks are Dobby's favorite! But, Harry Potter, they is making a mistake! They is giving you two of the same sock!"

"No, Harry, how come you didn't see that?" Ron asked, unwrapping the gifts from his family. "You know what Dobby, take these." He tossed the elf a pair of plum socks, and the maroon sweater. "You can mix 'em up."

"Dobby is knowing sir must be great because sir is friends with Harry Potter, but Dobby did not know sir was so generous of spirit, noble, selfless-"

"Are we talking about the same guy?" Harry asked.

"Oh shut it, Harry. Didn't you hear? I'm noble." Dobby left with the socks and a S.P.E.W. button from Hermione, leaving the trio alone.

They spent the rest of the morning lounging around and playing cards in front of the fire. In the afternoon, the three of them headed to the grounds to participate in a huge interhouse snowball fight. Harry helped construct a fort to share with Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Lee, Cedric, and a few other random students, and they rained down the unlimited snowballs on the unfortunate students who didn't have a two-story snow castle complete with balustrades. Harry watched as Fred launched the snowboulder using the icemade catapult, showering several Ravenclaws with packed powder, earning a high-five from Lee. Halfway through the fight, she decided to go rogue, constructing half a dozen other castles and watching them all try to destroy the others while she ran around sabotaging each of the structures, until everyone was wet and tired, but ready for another battle after a hot chocolate break.

At five, her and Hermione left to get ready, baffling Ron and the others. After a few hours of preparation, and a session with Lavender, Harry was dressed and her hair was finished. She met Fred in the common room, who was waiting with George and Angelina, Lee and Katie, and a surly looking Ron.

"Well, you clean up nice Harrikins."

"Stuff it, Weasley," Harry laughed, joining the group.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked.

"She went down to meet her date."

"Oh."

"Speaking of, who are you going with Ron? You've been very tight-lipped."

"It's because he's embarrassed." Ginny appeared at her side with a nervous looking Neville, probably on account of the glare she was aiming at Ron. "Which is ridiculous, because she's a very nice girl." The group exited the common room, making their way down to the Great Hall.

"She's a loon!"

"Ronald Wealsey, if you call her crazy one more time-"

"Who's crazy?" Harry asked, lost.

"No one! That's the point."

"Alright then." They entered the waiting area outside the Great Hall, leaving Ron and Ginny to argue while stationary, and not dodging trick stairs.

"She's my friend, so you'd better not-"

"Hello." Harry watched as a girl with dirty blonde hair and luminescent eyes joined their group. She had on a bright yellow dress that seemed to float around her, paired with what looked to be flickering sun earrings.

"Luna! Guys, this is my friend Luna Lovegood. She's in Ravenclaw." Ron's ears pinkened as he greeted her.

"Are you Ron? You've got quite a lot of nargles around you."

"What?"

"They like to group around mistletoe, so I'd avoid that."

"What?" Harry grinned.

'It's nice to meet you, Luna."

"It's nice to meet you, Harriet Potter." She tilted her head, staring at Harry. "You've almost no nargles at all. That's strange."

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome." They were interrupted by Professor McGonagall, who ushered Harry, Fred, George, and Angelina into the line of champions. Soon enough, the doors opened, and then Harry was walking into the room, opening the dance with the other champions. They moved to the head table, sitting down after what seemed like forever. Fred pulled back Angelina's chair for her, leading George to stare expectantly at Harry.

"Are you going to do that for me?" He wondered.

"You should be more polite than that, George. It's disgraceful to see how far you've fallen while I've been away." George and Harry jumped, looking around to see Percy lowering himself into a chair across from them.

"Merlin's pants, Percy, where the hell did you come from?" Fred exclaimed, hand over his heart. "I think this might be the first time you've ever pranked us."

"Mr. Crouch is unable to make an appearance tonight, so as his personal assistant, I will be filling in for him. He's really started trusting me more with these larger responsibilities." Harry resisted the urge to roll her eyes, well used to Percy's behavior. Fred and George had no such compulsions.

"Hey Weatherby?"

"Hmm?" Percy responded naturally, only to realise what Fred had called him, leading to some very un-subtle squabbling under the table until Hermione cleared her throat from her seat near them, giving all the boys a look so reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley that they froze and instinctively ducked their heads, apologizing.

Harry rolled her eyes, ordering food after spotting Dumbledore speaking to the plate. After tuning out a soliloquy on all of Crouch's accolades, and listening in on a discussion of the differences between the three schools, the meals were finished and it was time to dance.

Harry and George made their way to the dance floor with the other champions, lining up to open the ball with the first dance. Harry took a breath, steadying herself.

"Nervous?" George asked, the corner of his mouth crooking up in a smug grin.

"Stuff it, Weasley." The music started, and Harry fell into the steps that Loki had taught her. George was a surprisingly capable dancer, and soon enough they were joined by other pairs on the floor and the pressure relaxed. The song ended, and George let go of her hand.

"Well, I'm glad that's over."

"You offend me, my lady," George swept into a huge exaggerated bow as a fast paced song floated over their heads. "May I have this dance."

"Well, if you insist." She rolled her eyes, grabbing his hand and dancing poorly along with the others. There was a group of them on the floor now, and Harry spotted Cho and Cedric near them.

"Nice moves, Potter!" She continued in her rendition of 'the sprinkler', turning away to hide her embarrassment. A few dances later, and Harry left George to grab some punch. She was surprised to find that she was actually enjoying herself, the complication of romance being thrown out the window with George as her date. She headed over to a brooding Ron with two drinks in her hand and another one levitating in front of her as she maneuvered through the crowd.

She sat down on the left of Ron, passing one drink to Luna, who sat at his right.

"Having fun are we?" She asked the red-head. He glared at her. "What about you? Luna, right?" The girl turned to her with a whimsical expression.

"Oh yes. I've managed to avoid all the mistletoe so far, and there aren't as many nargles as I'd expected." She turned to Ron, who was still staring angrily at a nonexistent point in front of him. "I like your cuffs. Lace wards away Dabberblimps, did you know? I haven't been able to get through to the Merfolk about it yet, and there is an especially large amount of them by the water. It doesn't help that it's hard to understand them above water." Harry tilted her head at the girl, amused and somehow charmed by her strange manner.

"What does a Dabberblimp look like?" The blond turned to her, her wide eyes bright.

"No one really knows, as they're very quick, but from the glimpses I've seen, they look like a cross between a frog and a hummingbird." Harry nodded, nudging Ron, who grunted something noncommittal. She tracked his gaze, his stare landing on Hermione, who was laughing and being twirled through the air by Krum. Harry was suddenly annoyed by the redhead

"Luna, would you excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with Ronald."

"Alright." She turned her head away to watch the crowd, a smile lingering on her face as she hummed a completely different tune than what was being played. Harry grabbed Ron's arm, pulling him up and dragging him outside of the hall. Once they had cleared the doors to the garden, Harry cuffed the back of his head.

"Oi!"

"What the hell is the matter with you?" She asked.

"What-"

"You're staring at Hermione like you want her to spontaneously combust! I know you didn't want to go with her, or you would have been blushing about it for weeks-"

"I do not blush!"

"Tell that to your ears."

"Hey-"

"Nuh-uh, I'm talking now." He fell grumpily silent. "Get over yourself. You were wrong, in a hilarious way because she was asked by your man-crush, but that doesn't mean you can ruin this for her or sulk all night. You have a perfectly good date, too!"

"What, Loony Lovegood?"

"Is that what people call her?"

"Well, she's barking, so…"

"Ron, she might be a little odd, but you're my friend. Surely you can understand that just because everyone doesn't accept something as real doesn't mean it's suddenly fictional. It's entirely possible that there are nargles out there. In fact, your head seems to be full of them!"

"Harry!" The witch sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, before looking up.

"Just find a way to have some fun, Ron. This is like Prom."

'What the bloody hell is Prom? Is that a method of torture?"

"Depending on where you stand."

"...What?"

"Nevermind, just have some fun, dance with Luna, stop stewing in your bloody injured pride!" She stared at him until he nodded, then shooed him off back into the hall. She rolled her eyes, letting out a tired breath before wandering off into the garden to relax a bit before going back inside. It was not her fault that she stumbled upon Hagrid in the middle of his confessions.

"I, I am big-boned!" Harry had never heard a more blatant lie. She snuck away through the bushes so that she wouldn't get caught in her accidental eavesdropping, only to run into someone else trying to escape through the shrubbery. She collapsed, falling straight out of the bushes and onto the temporarily stone-paved pathway.

"Sorry about… Malfoy?!" She whispered. He pulled himself off the ground, brushing off his vicar-like suit.

"Potter." He wasn't going to get away that easily.

"Why are you hiding in the bushes?"

"I should ask you the same question."

"But I asked first."

"Don't be childish."

"You want to talk to me about being childish? 'Potter Stinks' ring a bell?"

"That was an ingenious invention-"

"I mean I'll give you points on the charm work, but the color scheme? Horrendous." He froze, staring at her in confusion. "Seriously, why are you out here." Something in him seemed to tired to protest more.

"Pansy."

"What, you lost her? She's wearing bright pink, how do you lose a stoplight like that?"

"What? No! I didn't lose her, she lost me."

"Ah. The cackling getting a bit too much?"

"She's a menace!" He looked around, watching for any eavesdroppers.

"Don't worry about that, silencing charm."

"You didn't even wave your wand," He accused.

"You remember last year. I have my ways." He rolled his eyes. "So, how's cowering working out for you?"

"I am not cowering!"

"Well, it seems to me like you're hiding out here because you're scared of a teenage girl. Hiding, cowering, they're sort of synonymous."

"She's just so… clingy!" He sat down tiredly, releasing his complaints like a flood held back too long by the dam of etiquette. "I can't go five minutes without her nails digging into my arm. And the voice-"

"Too nasally?"

"And shrill!"

"I'd say we shouldn't judge people by things they can't control, but no one has a voice like that unless they try to."

"She tries to imitate her mother. That's their idea of a 'proper pureblood' manner of speaking."

"You know, this is karma. You, having to take Pansy and then watch someone like Hermione walk in. Don't make that face, I saw you. This is your comeuppance." He turned to look at her, caught off guard.

"What?"

"For all the crap you've done this year. As well as the other three. You know, the bullying, name-calling, constant enforcement of racist ideology, all that." He grew more shocked, his pointy chin dipping low.

"What's put you in a mood?"

"Oh, life." She turned away from the rosebush in front of her, meeting the blond's gaze. "I've been patient, Malfoy, and I still have hope that you're coming over to my side, but the kid gloves are coming off. You'd better get your shit together because it's time to grow up and decide how to think for yourself. Let me know when you've decided." Harry stood, walking back to the party while she left a gaping Malfoy behind her.

She caught a glimpse of Ron and Luna dancing, the younger girl waving her hands above her head in a bizarre fashion while Ron shook his head goodnaturedly, dancing along as best he could. She caught up with them, taking turns doing their weirdest moves, laughing when the older Weasleys joined in. Harry was especially happy when she managed a little magic that caused the enchanted instruments to play out a familiar tune, and she was able to watch most purebloods and halfbloods look on in astonishment at the crowd of muggleborns and halfbloods flipping their arms over in unison and shouting 'Hey Macarena' accompanied by a deafening 'Ay!'.

At the end of the night, they all stumbled into, and Harry felt genuinely happy for the first time in a while.

.

.

Sakura Lisel: You have a great point, which is sort of what I meant to do in the story. Harry's whole thing is how everything keeps happening to her, and I thought it would be appropriate if the people focused their outrage on Harry to fit that pattern. I think it also requires a bit of a suspension of reality, further than what there already is in any story like this, because in the real world people would most definitely rag on the twins and Cedric just as much if not more, but I thought it would be especially frustrating for Harry if people focused on her because she's more famous and because her name came out of the goblet after the other three, effectively overshadowing them and setting the tone for the year in regards to her.

MagicalCatgirl68: I have some ideas about Skeeter, but it's still in the works. I'm leaning towards Harry 'catching' her, but I want Hermione in the mix too so we'll see what happens. You should get your answer about Fred and George next chapter.

Meep: It is that long, or a small bit shorter, simply because of how she doesn't really bother with it. It is very long by hunter standards, especially because of the dangers of someone grabbing it, and I do have the intention to have a Rapunzel-like scene when it inevitably changes, but for now it's like this. I also think it's sort of fitting that it's that long because of the jokes about fourth year being the year that no one got a haircut in the movies. The emphasis on 'calmly' was probably one of my favorite parts of that chapter. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to write that. Harry's talk with Krum will be revealed at some point, but I'm unsure if it'll be a flashback or similar to the talk like in the books where it comes later. She hasn't spent as much time with the Weasley's, but I think she's still got that empathy from Mrs. Weasley. It's probably a little more than how she felt about Hermione in the books. Your questions will be answered in due time. I kinda want to scare you with a vaguely threatening response about Fred or George but I'm not that mean so I'll just say...Spoilers. They got one egg, but they'll probably have three people just because there's not one person who overlaps and means that much to all three of them. McGonagall is absolutely a 'yes' person, I was just using her to represent how 'yeah' is more professional-ish than 'yah'. I'm not even certain that 'yah' is the proper thing to use, or if it's just vernacular that I picked up, because when I looked up the word to make sure I wasn't just sending wrong stuff into every chapter, it said that it was an upper-English term. So yah. The Macarena had been released but not popularized by 1994, but I fudged that a little. For the second task I think Harry has given up on the under the radar technique, and my thinking is that she's just trying to show off so much that she goes outside the bounds of the rules. You'll see what I mean next chapter. I'm ready for the Umbridge chapters. I love it when Harry gets to rant. I occasionally play Hogwarts Mystery, it's just that type of game that I will obsess over for weeks then drop it for a few months. It's a vicious cycle. I don't know if I know enough about the lore of the game to drop hints, though. She hasn't gotten him a Father's Day gift...yet. I didn't think she was emotionally stable enough, and probably still isn't at this point in time. I think the Ghostfacers are still alive too. I haven't finished it yet, but I'm making progress so that's something. Also, I think you might be frustrated at what's going to happen in the next few chapters. Just FYI. Bobby didn't send her to school basically because of that, plus some more pacifying angles, but basically that. I've read the Cursed Child, but it seemed totally out of character to me, so I don't necessarily accept it. Hermione's seen Dobby, so she's still gunning for House-Elf rights, but I think she might take a step back from forced freedom to something more legislative. It would suck to go camping during a period, and I was thinking that surely the magical world must have come up with a less messy solution at that point, like a charm. The soul near the liver thing is sort of obvious sounding, now that I think about it, with gut feelings and most of the emotion being able to be felt in the chest and gut, but I think there's the possibility of the roaming soul maybe, like if someone is upset or unbalanced feeling, it's because they're untethered or something. Idk, magical problems. I don't know if Harry was the curse, necessarily, I think she's just a troublemaker. It's an interesting theory, and it might be somewhat true with the increased risk of the job, but I think they had to find a new teacher every year before Harry too. There was just less death.

Jedi SteelWolf: In regards to the second task...something like that. I like the idea of a PO box, I'll probably integrate it into the story next year. If I don't give you credit harass me in the comments.

chip: I definitely forgot about the Prophet Ownership, but now that you bring it up again, I've got some interesting ideas. Yell at me in the comments if I don't give you credit once I use them. I don't think she's considered an adult, because the age limit was never an official law for the Tournament, just a restriction the ministries agreed on to restrict the amount of harm that could be done. It would be interesting if the goblet was originally made with the intention of choosing adults, emancipating Harry, but I don't think that will work for this story. You're right about the armor, and I've had some plans for that for the later years, possibly even next year, so you'll see some of that soon. I had plans at some point for the basilisk, where he harvested all the skin and scales, but it's been pushed back by some other ideas so often that it kind of just faded. There'll be a flashback at some point though. Like I mentioned in another reviewer response, Hermione will focus less on the forced freedom and more on the House Elf rights part of S.P.E.W., like humane treatment polices and etc. This is a point I haven't touched on as much in these first couple years, but Harry does have a majority in the castle, so while technically she could probably command the castle, she hasn't really discovered or explored that ability yet. It will come up soonish, though, I've had plans for a while.