Author's Notes : Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. I am very glad that the story is still going on strong and you keep tuning in to check the updates. For this is a very daunting work, the writing and the hoping that the readers like it.
Thank you ! :):):)

Chapter 18 : Highs and Lows

The weather did not improve over the next few days as the month of September drew to a close. Harry and Ron always returned from the Quidditch practice wet and soaking, their feet slipping and sliding on the sodden grass. The sky was a deep, thundery grey and it was a relief to gain the warmth and light of the changing rooms, even if they knew the respite was only temporary.

The one thing, however, looking up was the atmosphere inside the Hogwarts castle. It was as if a strong Impervius Charm had been cast all over to it, to shield the residents from the sometimes dry, sometimes wet climate. Never before had Harry seen the change in the air between the start of the academic term and the ending of the first month of studies. It was practically thrumming with excitement. Ron and Hermione both attributed this fact to the Club. 'The Club' - that was how it was known now, not 'Dumbledore's Army'. Not that their goals were replaced. They remained the same, which was to learn better defense. They had two meetings till now.

Though the subject of Voldemort's return was brought up in the first meeting already after Harry had decided to kick off their practice with the Disarming Charm.

"I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful -"

"Oh, please," said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you? If that is, like many of us have assumed, the main reason you have started the Club."

"But do we really have the proof that You-Know-Who's back?" said Seamus, standing a little behind Dean's back.

"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this supposed to be about -"

Harry sighed.

"Alright. The main idea to start this was to be properly trained in defense, which I believe is a sore subject for many considering the teachers we've had yet. Although Snape is under probation," this drew a chuckle from the majority.

"And we want to pass our DADA OWLS and NEWTS, right?" asked Hermione. Several agreed.

"What this past four years at Hogwarts has taught me that even students as young as us are in danger from those who are allies of the Dark Arts. The outside world is just as dangerous, if not more," said Harry, imagining to himself that Ginny would have called him paranoid if she were here.

"As for Voldemort," he continued, ignoring the shrieks, "he's back. Last year's Triwizard Tournament was played just as he wanted to. He ordered one of his Death Eaters, who polyjuiced himself as Mad-eye Moody instead of the real one, to not teach us, but to ensure that my name would come out of the Goblet of Fire. This Death Eater was on the lookout, so that I would reach the Cup in the maze first, thereby transporting me to Voldemort. He used my blood for his resurrection. Unfortunately, Cedric and I decided to take the cup at the same time, unaware of it all.

"When I escaped and told Dumbledore everything, the fake Moody was caught. He confessed everything. I was there with Dumbledore. Snape and McGonagall too. But before he could be questioned by the Ministry, he was kissed by a Dementor that Fudge brought with himself for 'his own protection'. And as you know, he has been refusing to listen to reason since then."

"Thank you Harry," said Ernie Macmillan. "That explains many things."

Harry glanced at everyone, if there were any further questions. When he was met with silence, he began to divide them all in pairs to practice. He then went around passing an eye, commending some and advising some. At the end of it, quite of few had successfully mastered the incantation.

"Even if the Disarming Charm is very basic and simple, it remains one of the most efficient ways of winning a duel, or in my cases, saving my life. Think about it, a wand is a witches' or wizards' first and only way of defense. Without it," Harry said, demonstrating it by quickly disarming a clueless Zacharias Smith, "you are helpless. You cannot even Apparate your way out.

"With most other jinxes and hexes, your opponent is still able to at least attempt to fight - the exception is probably a stunner, but they can be a little more tricky to cast than your basic expelliarmus. Once you have disarmed your opponent, they are forced to take their eyes off you as they look for their wand, and they are unprotected against any other spells you might use to incapacitate them.

"No matter how great and powerful your opponent is, without this magical stick, even Dumbledore has to admit defeat. So, unless, you know how to weave your way out of this by throwing punches -"

"You suggest resorting to Muggle fighting?" asked Blaise Zabini, his face shadowed.

Harry took a minute before answering. "The reality is that when it comes to battling the dark arts, much theory flies out the window. What matters is guts and quick thinking, something that often comes only with experience, or, more hopefully, simply good practice. Above all, the important thing is to be able to save your life."

Everyone was listening enraptured. An excited Colin Creevey asked what to do if you were not very good at duelling, and found yourself in a dangerous situation.

"Run away," answered Harry simply. "Or if that doesn't seem possible, keep the opponent talking. They want to brag, they want to exert their dominance on others. It's extraordinary how often bad people like to talk rather than, you know, just finishing the job - they tend to be egomaniacs, you see. Let them talk about how great they are for a bit, while you figure something out."

He then added, "That is how I have escaped Voldemort thrice now." He remembered confronting him for the Philosopher's Stone, in the Chamber of Secrets and finally in the maze.

Murmurs broke out.

"That was very well done, Harry," praised Hermione.

"Yeah, it was!" said Ron enthusiastically. "Did you see me disarm Hermione, Harry?"

"Only once," said Hermione, stung. "I got you loads more than you got me -"

"I did not only get you once, I got you at least three times -"

"Well, if you're counting the one where you tripped over your own feet and knocked the wand out of my hand -"

They continued arguing until Harry put a stop.

That drew their defense lesson at close. But that wasn't the end of it all. For now, it was time for 'Muggling Hour' (a term coined by Ron, which was based on 'Witching Hour). If anything, Harry himself was looking forward to it. It was a time, when each and everyone participated with full gusto.

Their initial trial with the roller skates had been a great success. Though not at the beginning, when Hermione pulled the skates out and made a little demonstration. Many seemed skeptical of wearing the rolling shoes. But little by little, as curious children with their innocent and wide-eyed expressions, some had come forward to try it for themselves. Harry had to keep himself in check from rolling in laughter. He wasn't much better (he and Ginny had many dates in the skating rink). Atleast, he could stand upright and move in a graceful manner. Which couldn't be said for almost half of them (mostly Purebloods and Half-Bloods). The Muggleborns had no problems zooming through the Great Hall.

"How are you so good at this?" asked Ron looking at a laughing Hermione, after he had fallen thrice on his bum. "I never took you as this type."

"What type?" she asked narrowly.

"You know, I can't imagine a little Hermione putting these on. I am just saying it doesn't look as your kind of fun."

Harry mentally facepalmed.

"Charming," said Hermione. "Just because I love books and studying, doesn't mean I hate fun. My grandparents used to skate with me all the time. But yes, our idea of fun is different. I like having both my feet on the ground, which sadly can't be said for Quidditch.

"Now, come on. Up you get," she said, hoisting Ron on his feet and slowly guiding him around.

If only they could see themselves, they would realize all the sexual tension literally oozing. Harry shook his head in exasperation. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Cho making her way to him. Quick as a flash, he grabbed out at the first person he could reach out. It was Neville, who always had been a bit clumsy. He carefully manoeuvred him on his feet.

"Did you do this at your Muggle relatives, Harry?" Neville asked, trying to stay upright.

"Uh. Yeah."

The Great Hall was filled with laughter and happiness. Harry saw Fred and George, as graceful as two swans in tuning, preparing to put on a performance. Luna, in her own world, dodged between the crowds of people, even having a skip in her skating. In little to no time, an hour had passed.

When dinner was served, everyone seemed to have only one topic to discuss. The air was charged with excitement and the clatter of plates and the rising noise was the evidence. The aftereffect of their little Club lasted well into their second meeting. Harry felt the same kind of satisfaction he had in his original fifth year; remembering how Neville had successfully disarmed Hermione, how Colin Creevey had mastered the Impediment Jinx after three meetings' hard effort, how Parvati Patil had produced such a good Reductor Curse that she had reduced an armour standing in the corner of the Great Hall to dust.

The best thing was that none of this had to be carried out in secret.

In their subsequent meetings, the roller skates continued to be the main point of attraction. One day, Harry even used a Freezing Charm (under McGonagall's watchful eyes of course) to transform the stone floor of Great Hall into an ice skating rink. Hermione made the necessary changes to the roller skates. That had been an eventful evening.

Soon, their numbers grew. Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies Professor, took an interest in their initiative and started participating in their 'Muggling Hour'. The popularity grew up to a point, where the first and second years had protested and demanded they be allowed in the club too. The professors compromised that they could attend the Muggle part of the Club.

Many Muggleborns came with their own ideas to incorporate something new and introduce the magical world to the Muggle World. It was quite often difficult, since electricity didn't work at Hogwarts, their ideas were pretty limited. Hermione swore to find a solution to this problem.

The only thing they weren't limited to was when they brought games. Dumbledore somehow, with an array of contacts at his disposal, bought a Football Table and a set of Basketball nets and balls. Football fanatics like Dean Thomas were overjoyed, who then pulled out a binder full of facts and rules and regulations regarding the sport that he had to be silenced, as the newcomers became more and more confused.

The best way to go about it was to let the people try it themselves, rather than explaining it all to them in heavy doses. This approach suited Hermione too, who was of the opinion, not everyone learns best from books. She and couple of Ravenclaws had organized a collection of Muggle fairytales and stories for interested people to read. Most often, Harry heard them coming up with theories on how the Muggle world was influenced by the Wizarding World and vice-versa.

Dumbledore also granted them permission to convert one of the unused classrooms into a Muggle sanctuary, where all things Muggle were stored and kept (No magic was allowed to be used in there). Anyone could use the room as and when they liked; as long as it didn't hamper with the school routine. For Fred and George had taken to roller skates as a new way of commuting between classes. The twins had even enchanted the skates to climb the stairs. They were eventually put to a stop, when they accidentally knocked down poor Flitwick down the stairs, earning them detention. After that, Muggle toys could only be used in the permitted room or outdoor.

Even though, many had expressed interest in meeting many times a week, Harry was finding it almost impossible to fix a regular night of the week (most often a Sunday) for the Club meetings, as they had to accommodate three separate team's Quidditch practices (the Slytherins kept turning up as silent participants), which were often rearranged due to bad weather conditions. Everyone's morale was high and it was quite liberating and fulfilling to spend a few hours in playing something other than Quidditch.

Although, as the month of October came to its middle and the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, Angelina insisted on almost daily practices. The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game; the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both teams over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretence of sportsmanship, were determined to see their own side victorious. Harry realised how much Professor McGonagall cared about beating Slytherin when she abstained from giving them homework in the week leading up to the match.

This attitude vastly changed when the students met during the Club. That proved one thing - the inter-house unity doesn't matter in the face of Quidditch. Harry supposed that a friendly rivalry was needed in between.

"I think you've got enough to be getting on with at the moment," she said loftily. Nobody could quite believe their ears until she looked directly at Harry and Ron and said grimly, "I've become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study, boys, and I really don't want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape, so use the extra time to practise, won't you?"

Snape was no less obviously partisan; he had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in the corridors. Harry kept his head down, not wanting to rile him up, even when his eyes seemed to be boring into his back.

Harry felt optimistic about Gryffindor's chances; they had, after all, never lost to Malfoy's team and he knew they had won the game in the future. Admittedly, Ron was still not performing to Wood's standard, but he was working extremely hard to improve. His greatest weakness was a tendency to lose confidence after he'd made a blunder; if he let in one goal he became flustered and was therefore likely to miss more. On the other hand, Harry had seen Ron make some truly spectacular saves when he was on form; during one memorable practice he had hung one-handed from his broom and kicked the Quaffle so hard away from the goalhoop that it soared the length of the pitch and through the centre hoop at the other end; the rest of the team felt this save compared favourably with one made recently by Barry Ryan, the Irish International Keeper, against Poland's top Chaser, Ladislaw Zamojski. Even Fred had said that Ron might yet make him and George proud, and that they were seriously considering admitting he was related to them, something they assured him they had been trying to deny for four years.

Draco Malfoy was being especially the ponce.

"Got your bed booked in the hospital wing, Weasley?" he jeered when they passed each other in the corridors.

"You better make sure that your father has direct access to St. Mungo's after we trash you, Malfoy. Your seeking skills have rather been dismal," Harry retorted.

Malfoy turned red and spluttered, "Go play with your Muggle toys, Potter."

When Harry turned back, he saw Ron lost deep in thought.

"You alright?" he asked.

Ron nodded but did not speak.

"Ignore them, Ron," said Hermione, in a comforting manner.

Harry contemplated on what to do to snap Ron out of his worries. This Ron had never endured a relentless campaign of insults, jeers and intimidation. This Ron wasn't battle-hardened. He was just on the cusp of stepping out of his brothers' shadows. He had yet to mold himself into a personality that would be his for lifetime.

"Come on, you need a one-to-one with a professional Quidditch player."


The last of the summer sun ray filtered through the window of the Burrow's kitchen, bathing the wooden worktop and tiled floor in warm light. Molly placed her freshly prepared lasagna to one side, where it would remain until she put it in the oven in a few minutes when Arthur and the guests would arrive in a short while. Bill and Kingsley were on the roster today for the guarding the prophecy. They were going to relieve Remus and Tonks, who then were invited to a dinner at the Burrow.

She swished her wand and her recipe book came soaring out of the pantry to land neatly on the scarred worktop in front of her. Of course, Molly knew her chocolate chip cookie recipe by heart by now but there was something comforting about having the recipe book in front of her. A set of rules to follow even as the world plunged deeper and deeper into madness. Especially if the cook was one Sirius Black, who looked at his wits' end.

"Really Sirius, you know you can relax. Let me do it," she said, after seeing him wave his wand foolishly, proving that he hadn't yet mastered the domestic charms.

"No, please Molly. I must pull my weight here," he answered, giving up finally and stirring the dough with a spoon. "Lily also used to feed the three of us, on top of caring for Harry. She suggested that I learn my around the kitchen, if I ever hoped to get married, since any witch would run the other way if she met me and cooking would be my only redeeming quality."

Molly frowned. "Well, you are a bit much at times. But, you are attractive."

Sirius barked a laugh. "Thank you, Molly. However, dating opportunities are very thin at the moment, as you know, I am still a convicted mass murderer.

"Besides, I got another role to fulfill now, haven't I? There's going to be a new Potter soon. Merlin, I feel old. Just yesterday, James had announced that he was going to be a dad."

Molly chuckled. "I know exactly how you feel."

She then let her gaze wander to her youngest child and only daughter, who was sitting on the sofa, caressing her bump. She could hardly believe it, she was going to be a Grandma. She hummed quietly as she lost herself to the familiar rhythm of her baking. Celestina Warbeck was giving an interview on the wireless which carried Molly's attention whilst she followed the steps which had become second nature to her.

Suddenly, a ringing sound pierced the silence. Both Molly and Sirius continued with their cooking, for this was quite normal. Ginny summoned her mirror from the room, on which she had put a charm to ring whenever Harry called her. She had got the idea from Muggle telephones.

"Harry," Ginny called.

The fog in the mirror cleared to show her husband smiling at her. "Hey!"

"A bit early for our talk, isn't it?" she asked, but she was secretly pleased nonetheless and Harry knew it.

"There's someone who needs your advice as a Harpy," he said and turned the mirror to show her youngest brother sitting on his bed in the boys' dormitory with Hermione beside him. They both waved at her. There was clearly a joke there, but Ginny decided to keep quiet.

"The first match of the Quidditch season is around the corner, right? Gryffindor versus Slytherin." She was missing this.

Ron gulped and nodded.

"And you naturally thought of your very talented Quiddtich player of a sister," Ginny smirked.

"Ginny," said Hermione.

"Listen Ron, you play fairly well. The only problem is your nerves, which bungle your performance. Seeing that it is your first ever Quidditch match, they must at an all-time high. I can tell you, that this feeling never really goes away. It happened to me too, when I played my first professional match for the Harpies. You must mentally prepare yourself for it. Not to mention the insults and the depreciating comments - the ginger jokes, freckles, that Weasleys are too poor, that you only got the place on the team because you are shagging Harry Potter - "

"Ginny!" admonished her mother, while Ron scowled.

"The point is," continued Ginny, "sledging others is part of the game. You need to tune them out."

She then gave him some tips for the Keeper position, which Ron dutifully listened to. Ron also asked questions regarding her own experiences. "Harry knows some of the drills. He used to practice them with me."

"Thanks Ginny," said Ron.

Harry asked her about her health and promised that he would call her later in the night.

Ginny sent the mirror back into her room. She stretched and gave a big yawn. Lazily, she stood up and made her way to the dinner table.

"Hungry, dear?" her mother asked kindly.

"This baby needs food."

Fortunately for Ginny, the fireplace flashed bright green and Arthur stepped out of it, brushing dust off him as he came further into the house. He greeted his wife and his daughter with a peck on the cheek and nodded to Sirius.

The fire flamed green once more, revealing Tonks and Remus. They both mimicked Arthur and brushed the ash off as they entered the kitchen and called their 'hellos' to the inhabitants. Remus looked even worse than the last time Molly had seen him. He was far too skinny and the purple circles under his eyes were so dark they were almost black.

Everyone was soon ushered onto their seats at the table.

"Dinner's ready!" Molly announced loudly as she bustled to the oven and removed the garlic bread. The steaming lasagna dish zoomed across to the table with yet another flick of her wand and began to serve itself to her guests.

"It smells wonderful, Molly," Remus said appreciatively as the serving spatula plated him a generous helping.

"Thank you, Remus. Does anyone want any Parmesan?"

"Parmesan would be great, Molly," Tonks said with a smile. Another wave of Molly's wand and an assortment of condiments landed on the table.

Satisfied that her guests had everything they needed, Molly joined them at the table and pulled her own serving of lasagna towards her as the others began to eat.

As was expected, the conversation turned to their Order work.

"Dumbledore still asking you to be in contact with werewolves, Remus?" Molly asked, noting his appearance.

Remus nodded, "He suggests to keep a line with magical creatures open, should Voldemort offer them something more lucrative. It's difficult to convince them to remain neutral in the conflict. Greyback is gathering his old forces."

A wave of trepidation descended upon the dinner table.

"Any progress on the Gringotts front?" Ginny inquired, hopefully.

"Bill has arranged a meeting with the head of the Gringotts for Dumbledore. Though, it's not looking good. The goblins do respect him, but they take their job of guarding the treasures very seriously. I am afraid, we'd have to prepare a heist in the worst case," said Arthur.

With that, the talk turned a bit on the cheerful side. Ginny narrated some of her thrilling matches. When everyone cleared their plates, Molly, with a curt wrap of her wand, the kettle began to boil and cookies came soaring through the air, landing one in front of the guests.

"A bit different than usual," commented Tonks on the shape.

Sirius cleared his throat, "Excuse the first attempt."

"Decided to turn that boyish foolishness into domestically trained, Padfoot?" asked Remus in jest.

"Not much to do here. Still better than being stuck in that hellhole. Besides, have to figure out now Harry's a grown up with a child on the way," said Sirius.

"If the whole murder thing wasn't pulling you back, I could gladly set you up, Sirius," said Tonks. "A witch. Or a wizard, whatever you prefer."

Sirius showed his hands up, "No, thank you. Settling down not on the cards for me."

"I always took you for a eternal bachelor," Ginny piped up. "Girlfriend, I can see. But - wife?"

Sirius' face turned a pale-white as the others roared in laughter. "Let's just focus on the newest Potter. Anyways, among the three of the Marauders, I am last on the list of potential partners. James was destined to be a family man, though...," he trailed off. "It's Moony's turn first."

"Sirius, don't start," Remus warned.

"I don't give a Knut to your excuses. You -"

"You don't get it. I am danger -"

Tonks cut him off. "Don't call yourself that!"

"Please. You have only seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts! You don't know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Who'd want to be linked with a werewolf and made an outcast."

"Remus, that doesn't mean you are undeserved of happiness," said Molly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Who said that by only having a family of blood is the source of happiness? I am satisfied with the work I do for the Order. I have Sirius and Harry," he stuttered through.

"That is true. But if you do change your mind, remember that werewolves can have a family. It is proven that people suffering from lycanthropy can have children. The disease, as you call it, is not hereditary. A person can become a werewolf only if he or she is bitten," commented Ginny, who had grasped the true nature of Remus' unwillingness.

Silence.

"I would know, wouldn't I? I am from the future after all."

Remus' eyebrows rose a little, his amber eyes widening in disbelief. He had his jaw clenched and he stared at Ginny, who stared right back at him unflinchingly, as if challenging him to prove her knowledge wrong. He stood up and strode out the house and a moment later, the others heard his pop of Disapparition.

Sirius simply said, "Good job, Ginny." He trudged up the stairs and retired for the night. Tonks too took their leave, deep in thought.

Ginny couldn't help but smile that she had put the first dent in Remus' shell of self-isolation. She couldn't wait to tell Harry, who pretty sure would roll his eyes and call her a match-maker.

She peeked outside the window and saw that darkness was gathering on the horizon. She just hoped the morning would bring something positive.


THE DAILY PROPHET

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed a new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Ministry of Magic has always had the best interests at heart where the education of their children is concerned.

Each of the professors at the historic school, the headmaster Albus Dumbledore included, would be subjected to fair and objective evaluation. This educational reform is only the start of a roadmap the Minister for Magic, Cornelius O. Fudge, has come up with. He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of.

Rumours abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts. (For his controversial decisions, turn to page 9).

Keeping this in mind, the Minister has appointed his Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, to the post of Education Inspector.