They immediately took the Ouija board from Rory to be examined. Harry was unsurprised by this, as Rory seemed to be as well. She was still holding Levi's letter in her hands, reading it over, deep in thought. Bones weren't too weird where divination was concerned. They'd learned a bit about oracle bones in Divination, though nothing in depth. Generally, they were just animal bones that, when dropped, fell a certain way to give certain insights. Harry thought they were creepy but harmless.

But in conjunction with a Ouija board (rather, a Spirit or Talking Board as Rory repeatedly corrected him), it was definitely unsettling. Especially since everyone seemed completely freaked out by it.

They sat together on a gaudy, green chaise lounge on the far side of the lounge, just out of earshot of the others. Rory had her legs tucked beneath her, back resting against Harry. After a while, she sat the letter in her lap and turned to look at him. "It's definitely human bone."

Harry blinked at her for a moment. "Sorry?"

"The planchet, it's human bone," Rory said.

"Right. You mentioned that before. Does it say that in the letter?" Harry asked.

Rory shook her head and adjusted herself to sit beside him. "I just know. And Tonks is here. She's going to come to the same conclusion."

Harry didn't know why he was surprised. This absolutely was on par with the kind of thing Rory would come out with.

"And you're fine with this? With the fact that your uncle sent you something specifically meant for talking to dead people with a piece of a dead person being the tool you use to operate it?" Harry asked. Rory shrugged. He was used to Rory being very cavalier about things related to divination, but to just say that a planchet was made from human bone and shrug it off? That was a bit much.

"I mean, it's weird, but like I said. I don't get any bad vibes from it," Rory said. "And there's a reason Voldemort wants it, right? There has to be something about it that's important. My mum risked her life to get this from him."

"Your reasoning is absolutely valid but, again, you're fine with using human bones to predict the future or possibly talk to dead people?" Harry asked.

"I mean, it's only one bone," she replied.

"I love you, but yikes," Harry said.

"People have been using bones to do divination for centuries. There are human skulls that were used as scrying bowls in the British Museum," Rory said.

"Still seems a bit-"

"Archaic and morbid, I know," Rory said. She sighed. "But I have a feeling about it. I think that I need them. I mean, Trelawney said I needed something to help me see, and that's the exact same thing my uncle said to me when I saw him at dinner. Do you really think this is a coincidence?"

For the first time, Harry felt a sting of fear at the fact that Rory was a seer. This was the weirdest thing he'd ever encountered. Having a connection to a Talking board with a piece of human bone Voldemort wanted, presumably, to do his own divination made his stomach turn. He didn't want Rory to be even tangentially connected to Voldemort, especially through something like this.

But, she had a point. "Nothing's ever a coincidence with you," he conceded.

Rory put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't be so worried. They're probably not even going to give it back to me. Maybe."

"Probably maybe?" Harry asked. She sighed. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe you're being so relaxed about this. It's strange. It's weird. Morbid, like you said."

"You worry too much about me," she said.

"I think it's justified in this case," he said.

Rory conceded. "Okay. You're right. But also, I just feel... it's hard to explain what it feels like."

"I know, I know," Harry said with a sigh. "You just know. Still, it doesn't make it not weird. Or concerning."

She kissed his cheek. "Trust me. Trust me and all my weird insights. I've got this under control. Do you want me to distract you?"

"I know they're all in the kitchen commiserating over your questionable gift, but I feel like they may have a sixth sense about being alone in a room together," Harry said.

Rory chuckled. "I understand why your brain would go there, but actually, I have a present for you."

"You mean aside from the book?" Harry asked. She nodded. "Why didn't you tell me before."

"I wasn't sure I wanted to give it to you," she said, behaving uncharacteristically timid all of a sudden. "I didn't know whether you would like it or think it was stupid or lame-."

"I'm sure it's fine," Harry said.

She reached into the pocket of her skirt and then held out her hand. Sitting in the palm of her hand was a corded, leather bracelet, not entirely dissimilar to the nylon one he'd given her last year. This one was less dainty, three pieces of dark brown leather braided together. Where Rory's had a small fish charm dangling from it, this one had a small, silver owl that held the two sides of the bracelet together.

"Why an owl?" Harry asked.

"It just seemed right. I didn't want to get it with like a heart or my name or something like that," Rory said. "An owl just... I dunno. It just made me think of that terrible date I had with Connor."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because. That's when I wrote Sirius a letter about how awful the date was," she said.

"Ah, yes. I remember," Harry said. "You wrote your letter to Sirius about how Connor was the worst and followed it up with 'By the way, Harry's so cool and funny and smart and everyone thinks I have a crush on him but I definitely do not.'"

"It's kind of humiliating how close to real life that description is. And I was obviously delusional," she said. "Because after I sent the letter you showed up, with treats for Hedwig."

Harry recalled this conversation because he felt kind of like a jerk for being happy that her date went poorly. And immediately after, she'd told him that he was going to be entered into the tournament. She'd told him about the letter as they sat together in the common room the very first night he'd kissed her. He would never forget that.

"And then," she went on, but not before burying her face in her hands, her cheeks tinged with red. "This is so embarrassing to remember," She sat up and took a deep breath. "After I told you about how much my date sucked, I said that I had this whole idea in my head of how perfect I thought my first date and first kiss would be and you told me to just say it didn't count. To just wait for someone I actually wanted to kiss and then say that's the one that counted. And I just knew as soon as you said it, that I wanted it to be you."

Harry never doubted that Rory loved him, never ever. He never felt like he was good enough for her. Thought that he made her too frustrated and couldn't keep up with the way she thought, but the way she looked at him, the way she smiled at him. Everything in the way that she just was with him, he knew. He loved Rory right down to his bones and so did she. He remembered the first time he'd kissed her and how terrified he'd been, and how it had been so, so worth it for every kiss he'd had since then.

"Did I live up to your expectations?" Harry asked. "Of your first kiss and your first date I mean."

"And then some," she said. And he knew she meant it.

He held out his hand to her. "I'll take that."

"You don't think it's tacky and awful to wear a bracelet from your girlfriend?" she asked.

"Never," he said. "And if anyone thinks otherwise, well... I've gotten really good at ignoring people who don't like what I do or what I say." He put the bracelet on and pulled it taught. Rory looked simultaneously happy and concerned. "Stop your fretting. I mean it."

"You promise you don't hate it?" she asked. Harry kissed her. It was probably more of a kiss than he should've been giving her in the lounge, with all their friends hanging around, but Rory was hardly insecure about anything. Any reassurance he could offer her right now, he would give to her.

"I love you," he said. "And now I'll have a little piece of you no matter where I go."

She kissed him again and then dropped her head against his shoulder. "You sure you don't want me to steal you away and distract you somewhere more private?"

"I am positive that your dad will murder me. Or that Sirius will sit me down for another talk, which would also definitely kill me," Harry said. Rory sighed. "Don't sound so disappointed."

"I just hate that I can't just kiss you whenever I want," she said.

"I'll make it up to you," he said.

"Promise?" she asked. She grinned at him. How could he ever tell her no? He kissed her one last time.

"Promise," he said.


That afternoon, Rory found herself walking the halls of St. Mungo's with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were visiting Mr. Weasley who was well on his way to making a full recovery and would return home soon. Because he wasn't able to spend the morning with them, Mrs. Weasley had brought along a bit of the breakfast she'd made that morning so that he might be able to enjoy it rather than the bland hospital food commonly served at St. Mungo's.

"Molly," Mr. Weasley said, "I think this cake might be the best thing you've ever made or that I've ever eaten."

Rory felt her cheeks redden. Mrs. Weasley had been a bit territorial about the kitchen, which was fine by Rory who just wanted to make her apple cake. What Rory hadn't expected was for everyone to fall over themselves telling her how much they loved it which seemed to annoy Mrs. Weasley.

Rory felt a bit like she was stepping on Mrs. Weasley's toes by making the cake and the last thing she needed was Mr. Weasley also showering her with compliments.

"Actually, Rory made it," Ginny said. Rory loved Ginny, but kind of wished she would be struck by lightning for not knowing how freaked out Rory was.

Mrs. Weasley forced a smile onto her face.

"Weren't we going to look at that weird painting?" Ron asked, quickly ushering Rory from the room, Harry and Hermione following close behind.

"Thanks for that," Rory said when they were down the hall.

"No problem. Mum gets so touchy about people in the kitchen with her like she owns the place or something. But then she complains if anyone tries to help her," Ron said. "Best to avoid that situation entirely."

Rory didn't think she was going to ever attempt to make anything in a kitchen shared by Mrs. Weasley ever again.

The four walked through the corridors of St. Mungo's, inspecting its weird quirks and oddities. One painting was handing out very bad medical advice for a disease that it assumed Ron was suffering from (because of his freckles and pale skin). Another painting was also dispensing bad medical advice just because they were passing by.

When they came to the ward for long-term residents, they happened upon someone familiar. Their old defense against the dark arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart.

He gave them his autograph because even though the only thing Lockhart knew about himself was that he was famous, his personality was unchanged apparently.

As their awkward encounter came to a close, Rory spotted someone down the hall that she recognized. Neville's grandmother, Augusta. Rory had a realization that it was Christmas and that every Christmas Neville visited his parents at St. Mungo's where they were housed in the ward for long-term residents who'd been irreversibly affected by magic.

None of her friends knew this of course and Neville didn't want any of them to know.

"Hey guys, we've been gone for a while. I think they're probably going to start looking for us," Rory said, trying to coax her friends in the opposite direction.

"Is that Neville?" Ron asked.

Rory winced.

"He's probably visiting someone. Don't want to bother him," Harry said quickly, also seeming to want to steer clear of Neville, but Rory couldn't imagine why.

"Aurora Lupin, is that you?" Augusta called out.

Rory looked to Neville who stood a few feet behind his grandmother, his parents just behind him. Neville's face paled. Guilt trickled its way through her bones as Augusta marched up to them.

"And how are you?" Augusta asked, wrapping Rory in a hug. "I was so disappointed not to see you this summer. Is your father well?"

"Yes, we're both fine," Rory said.

"All that hullabaloo at the Ministry with your uncle. I can't imagine how your holidays have been," Augusta said. "And I know he's your family, but folks like that just coming out of the woodwork suddenly," she let out a dry chuckle, "I tell you I wouldn't trust it one bit without proper vetting."

"Of course. The Ministry is looking into him," Rory said.

Augusta scoffed. "Someone needs to vet them as well. 'Obtuse' you called them. That was being polite. Just look at how they're handling all that nonsense with Harry Potter."

At this, she seemed to realize Rory wasn't alone and that she was, in fact, standing next to Harry Potter himself. And then she was off on a tangent, introducing herself and going on and on about how good of friends her son was with the Potters. And then detailing exactly what had happened to her son and daughter-in-law, while Neville stood there with his parents staring down at his feet.

"But what on Earth are you all doing here?" Augusta finally managed to ask.

Ron explained that his father was in residence which sent Augusta off on another long story. Augusta Longbottom knew anyone and everyone in the UK it felt like. Rory stepped away and walked over to Neville. She hugged him tightly.

"Happy Christmas," she said.

"Thanks," Neville said.

"I tried to get them to leave," Rory said.

"It doesn't matter. You know how Gran gets when she's onto something," Neville said. "And she loves to tell people."

"I know, but still," Rory replied.

"Ah, Neville, there you are. Say your goodbyes, we'll be going now," Augusta said.

Neville nodded and looked back to Rory. "Your holidays been alright? Read about the stuff with your uncle and Sirius Black."

Rory heaved a sigh. "I've got loads to tell you when we get back to school. I think I'll need to start keeping a list."

Neville nodded toward Harry. "And has he been alright?"

Rory pouted. "Don't be that way."

"Can't help it," Neville said. "And you haven't answered my question."

"He's been perfectly fine," Rory said. Neville gave her an incredulous look. She sighed. "He has been mostly perfectly fine."

"Don't forget to add that to the list of things to tell me when we get back," Neville said.

"You're worse than my dad about him, you know?" Rory asked.

"Someone has to be," Neville said. "Happy Christmas, Rory."

She gave him one last hug and sent him on his way. She appreciated Neville, truly, but it was getting exhausting having to reassure people that things were fine with Harry. He was not his best self this year, no, but neither was Rory.

The others said goodbye to Neville as he walked off with grandmother and Rory made her way back to them, linking her fingers with Harry's as she took up a spot by his side.

"That was super awkward," Ron said.

"I can't believe Neville's never told us," Hermione said.

Neville always felt inadequate compared to the practical legends his parents were. Of course, he never told anyone. It would just give people reason to compare him to his parents, which his grandmother did enough. Rory didn't blame him. Harry could hardly take a breath in Grimmauld Place without Sirius comparing him to James Potter. Harry was proud of it, but Neville was nothing like his parents, had grown up knowing all about them and being expected to measure up to them. Harry didn't really have those same expectations.

Which reminded her…

She held Harry back a few paces from Ron and Hermione as they headed back to Mr. Weasley's room.

"Did you know about Neville's parents?" Rory asked.

Harry nodded. "Do you remember when I saw that memory in Dumbledore's Pensieve? They talked about it in the trial. I asked Dumbledore about it. He told me not to tell obviously. I figured Neville probably told you but didn't really seem to matter so I just never said anything. Just in case."

"So what you're saying is that you keep secrets from me?" Rory teased.

"I have to keep myself interesting somehow," he said. "Being mysterious helps, I think."

"I don't think keeping a family secret for a friend counts as being mysterious," Rory said. "And I think there's plenty about you that makes you interesting enough."


When they left St. Mungo's, Rory and her dad headed to her grandfather's house for dinner.

"I told Remus there'd be hell to pay if I didn't see you this year," Lyall said as soon as she entered the house. "I prefer to spoil my granddaughter in person rather than through the post."

"I know, I know," Remus said. "Never mind seeing your only child."

"Never mind you indeed. Practically holding my only grandchild hostage and keeping her to yourself," Lyall said.

Lyall gave Rory a pile of books, mostly pertaining to his interest in non-human spiritus apparitions which she'd been begging him for.

"Finally confident it won't give me nightmares?" Rory asked.

"If you insist they won't," Lyall said. "And I think at this point you've dealt with much worse."

"You are not wrong there," Rory agreed. Nothing like watching someone die to make you incurably unafraid of pretty much everything else.

"How's the rest of your holiday been so far?" he asked.

"Fine," Rory said.

"Just fine?" Lyall scoffed. He motioned to Remus. "What's he done now?"

Rory laughed and Remus frowned.

"You always assume I've done something," Remus said.

"Well, haven't you?" Lyall asked.

"I think it's fair to say that Aurora is more concerned with other things than just her father being a little annoying while she's home for the holidays," Remus said.

Rory nodded in agreement, though she would say that her dad was being more than just a little annoying lately. She had a feeling though, that if she brought up why her dad was being annoying it would end with her grandfather siding against her.

"You've been keeping up with the whole Levi Goldfinch situation I assume," Rory said.

Lyall chuckled. "Ah, right. Of course, that's more on your mind than anything. Have you met him?"

"He seems a bit… Off," Rory admitted. "He hasn't done or said anything to make me distrust him, but he gives off weird vibes."

Or no vibes as she'd told Harry. He was like a blank sheet of parchment that she was sure she'd seen someone writing on despite its apparent emptiness.

"Vibes?" Lyall asked.

"He has an aura about him that I don't know what to do with," Rory said. Again, no aura. Blank.

"Did becoming a seer come with a whole new vocabulary?" Lyall asked.

"I think 'vibes' is more to do with being fifteen rather than being a seer," Remus said.

Lyall sighed. "I admire language and its ability to adapt and evolve, but Merlin, it gets harder to decipher you every year."

"I'll get you a Rosetta stone for your birthday then, so you can always understand me," Rory said.

Lyall smiled at her. "Are you unsure about whether or not Goldfinch is telling the truth about your mother?"

"I don't think he's lying about anything. Not directly anyway. But I can't tell if he's withholding information because he doesn't trust me or for some other reason," Rory said.

"Exercising some caution is not a bad idea. Trust your instincts," Lyall said.

Rory always did, especially now. She was afraid of what would happen if she didn't.

"And that's all that's made your holiday just 'fine?' That boy treating you well?" Lyall asked.

That was the question of the day, the week, the month. Rory resisted the urge to roll her eyes into the back of her head because that would only lead to her having to relay, yet again, the details of her detention with Umbridge, Harry's bad moods, Cho Chang, and she was simply not in the mood for it.

"Yes, yes," Rory said.

Lyall gave her an incredulous look. "You know, I may have heard otherwise."

This time Rory did roll her eyes. Sometimes she forgot that her dad actually talked to her grandfather outside of her semi-annual visits.

"I think you need better sources," Rory said. "As I've told your son, repeatedly, things are good with Harry."

"Oh, it's natural for us to worry about you," Lyall said.

"Didn't you just tell me not a moment ago to trust my instincts?" Rory asked. "Wouldn't that same advice apply when it comes to-."

"Only sometimes. Your heart and your head are seldom in agreement. Especially when you're-."

"Merlin, if you say it's because I'm fifteen I'm going to fling myself into the sun," Rory groaned. "I am the one in the relationship. It stands to reason that maybe I might know what I'm talking about when someone asks me whether or not things are good or if he treats me well and I might not be so irritated if people would stop assuming otherwise."

"Calm down," Lyall said. "I'll take your word for it. I won't expect that from this one though." Again, he motioned to her dad.

"I don't expect it either," Rory replied grumpily.

"Ah, so that's what you've done then. Asked her one too many times about her boyfriend," Lyall said. "Well start minding your own business."

"Haha," Remus said. "As if you're an expert on minding your own business now, and how old am I?"

Rory was thankful the conversation steered away from Harry at last. Didn't anyone trust her? Didn't anyone see the two of them together? How had Harry screwing up a few times and being moody as teenagers were known to do (something she was reminded of frequently) reason for people to think that she should break up with him or that she should tread carefully?

It was annoying. She wondered if people harassed Harry the same way. Were they interrogating him about the way he treated her? Did anyone question his moods or why it took him so long to tell off Cho Chang or was she the only one subject to these interrogations?


After a long evening at his father's house, Remus and Aurora returned to Grimmauld Place. His daughter insisted that yes, she wanted to take all of her new books back to Grimmauld and not leave any at home so she could get started on reading them, and heaven forbid if she forgot one at home after the holidays and she'd have to wait for Remus to send it to her.

Remus was glad she'd been in a good mood all day. Most of the time Aurora seemed like she was ready to bite his head off. She nearly had at his father's house, but leave it to Lyall to easily diffuse any situation that involved upsetting his granddaughter.

It was exhausting having a teenager and Remus wondered if he'd lead his parents to have the same exhaustion. He knew that being a werewolf was a large stressor on them of course, but was he as combative and argumentative as Aurora was?

"Can I ask you something?" Remus said as he closed the front door behind himself.

Aurora sighed. "Is this going to be about Harry again?"

"Yes," he replied, and he could feel his daughter roll her eyes. "Humor me, please? Just for a moment."

"Have I got a choice about it, really?" she asked, pulling off her hat and shaking the snow onto the ground.

"You promise things are fine?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Because you told me you would tell me if things weren't fine," he said.

"Correct," she replied.

"But you haven't," Remus said.

"Because there's nothing to tell," she insisted, as she always did. "Unless you want a heads up every single time I get into an argument with him."

"The fact that the two of you are arguing at all is concerning," Remus said.

"Honestly, people argue all the time. It's weird if you agree with someone one hundred percent of the time about everything. I get into arguments with you more often than I do with Harry and no one is questioning whether or not I'm in a toxic relationship with my dad," she said.

Remus nodded. She had a point there. "I still worry."

"Well, can you worry a little less directly?" Aurora asked. "I feel like we're under a microscope or something. It's unbearable. I wish people would just leave us alone and stop trying to micromanage our relationship."

Remus sighed. He could sense that she was shutting down and he didn't want to end the evening on a sour note. He gave her a hug, squeezing her tightly, and kissed the top of her head.

"You're getting too old," he said. "I don't know what to do with you."

"You can just let me be," Aurora said.

Remus didn't know how such a thing was possible, but he dropped the conversation and sent her to bed.

He found Sirius, Tonks, and Bill sitting in the lounge together by the fire.

"You missed my mother giving a stirring rendition of Celestina Warbeck's 'Winter Fire,'" Bill said. "The twins had to drag her off to bed. Bit too much wine."

"Sorry I missed that," Remus said, taking a seat in an armchair by the fire.

"How's Lyall?" Sirius asked.

"He's fine, though I'm not sure why I bother turning up when I have Aurora with me. Might as well not even be there," Remus replied.

"That's the point of grandparents isn't it?" Tonks asked. "I think you're supposed to take a break while they're irreversibly spoiling your children."

"Is that your experience? Being spoiled by your grandparents?" Sirius asked. "Because it was not mine."

"Well, that's because the Blacks suck," Tonks said. Sirius conceded this. "Had a nice visit at least I hope."

Remus nodded. "And things were alright here?"

"There was an incident with the miniature broom I got Harry getting tangled in Hermione's hair at one point, but we managed to free it without having to cut off anyone's hair which was some people's first instinct," Tonks said, tossing a glance at Sirius.

"You look me in the eye and tell me you didn't think it might also be a lost cause, at least for a few minutes," Sirius said. "I just assume anything stuck in any curly hair is a lost cause."

"Maybe, you're under the age of ten," Remus said. "After that, you generally learn how to handle it. At least Aurora did."

"I think I would just chop all my hair off. Don't they get hot under all that hair?" Sirius asked.

"That's why you wear it up," Tonks said.

"I've never seen Hermione with her hair up," Bill pointed out.

"Aurora used to wear hers up constantly," Remus said. "I'm not actually sure when that changed."

"It probably just makes her feel more grown up," Tonks said.

"Grown-up Aurora is exhausting," Remus said. "Actually I think grown-up Aurora with a boyfriend is what's making it exhausting."

"But, I will say, I think I gave Harry a proper talking to this morning," Sirius said. "Don't expect he'll be doing anything improper with Aurora without having significant mental roadblocks standing in his way. I wasn't sure what I was going to say at first and then I just thought, be honest."

"And what did your honesty entail?" Bill asked.

"Well, as Remus well knows, I was quite the slut in my youth," Sirius said.

Remus rolled his eyes. He had not had enough to drink to endure wherever this conversation was going, but that described basically his entire relationship with Sirius.

"I hope that's how you started the conversation," Tonks said.

"No, but I wish I had," Sirius said. "What I did tell him though, was how Madame Pomfrey and I were very well acquainted."

"Lots of STI's then?" Bill teased.

Sirius gasped, looking appalled.

"Don't pretend as if that wasn't well within the realm of possibility for you," Remus said.

"That doesn't mean it's not hurtful, Moony," Sirius said. "And I was seeing our favorite healer for the exact opposite reason. She once told me that she'd rather give me a condom every single day than ever see me procreate on her watch."

"Oh, please tell me you said that to him?" Tonks asked eagerly.

"Yes. He looked sufficiently like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die," Sirius said.

"And while you were busy traumatizing him, do you think you actually made an impression?" Remus asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Don't think I needed to honestly. He seemed very genuine when he told me they had a whole conversation about all that. Which, to be fair, is exactly what Aurora told me he would say."

"She told you?" Remus asked.

Sirius nodded. "When Arthur first went to St. Mungos I asked her how it was that she was the one who brought Harry to McGonagall's office that evening."

"You mean, why was she alone somewhere in the castle with Harry after midnight?" Remus asked.

"Nevermind where they were, she just insisted that nothing of that nature was happening, they had a discussion about how nothing was happening, and that if I asked Harry he would be super embarrassed but he would tell me the same," Sirius said. "And he she was right on both counts. I even had him clarify that they were not having intercourse."

Tonks choked on her wine and pulled the glass away from her lips. "I'm sorry, I'm all for winding him up, but did you actually say that to him?"

"Of course I did," Sirius said.

Tonks nodded. "I understand what you mean now by significant mental roadblocks. I almost feel bad for him." She looked over to Remus who shrugged.

"I'm afraid this is the one time Harry Potter does not have my sympathy," he said.

"Spoken like a dad," Bill laughed.