A/C: Happy Solstice, everyone! Enjoy the long night with you cider, eggnog, nuts, watermelon, pomegranates, dumplings, or however else you celebrate.

Loads of random commentary at the end of the chapter.

Friday October 29th, 1993

Eaton Miller was looking forward to the end of his shift. Then again, when doesn't a person look forward to ending a day at Azkaban? This place is a nightmare! Yet he, in all his Gryffindor determination, had jumped headfirst into the post back when he was a fresh graduate at the DMLE. If he could turn back time fifteen years ago, he'd have knocked his younger self upside the head and made himself pick a saner job. Despite his misgivings about the work, leaving this post means that some other poor sap will have to take his place. So, per usual, he took it on the chin and kept coming back to this god-forsaken island.

He dropped a letter into Bellatrix Lestrange's cell. He backed up quickly before alerting the woman. A safety measure, more than anything. Hopefully this time she'll stay quiet…

Without looking back he walked on to deliver the last of the letters in this block. "You got two this week, Malfoy. Lucky you."

That was probably cruel, in hindsight, but at least Malfoy didn't show it. The shivering man simply crept closer and asked his usual question. "What day is it?"

"It's Friday, October 29th."

"October 29th," he repeated. Strange, there was a small smile on the man's face. "Almost Halloween. Samhain. My parents and I used to celebrate it. Honour our ancestors, as wizards ought to do. Draco was always so excited…" His wistful expression dropped, flashing with bitterness as the letters clenched in his hand. "Ungrateful wretch. My own son! A traitor! He'll suffer for it, mark my words! Soon. Soon…"

Eaton shuddered at the man's words. He's going mad. Like the rest of them. Not that he doesn't deserve it, the Death Eater scum. Still, that "soon" bit is a new one. He'll have to bring it up with the next pair on shift to keep an eye on the man.

When night fell and the new guards came, Eaton did just that, though neither showed concern. "His bitch of a sister-in-law says stuff like that all the time," said Simon Pritchard. "It's likely rubbed off on him."

"You're probably right…"

The second guard, Katherine Montague, gave a commiserating smirk. "We'll keep an eye out, anyways. If nothing else, it might be entertaining."

"On a full moon weekend?" Pritchard scoffed. "I doubt that."

He thanked them both, regardless of the mixed reviews, and left for the boat. When they sailed off, his partner tried to negate the awful weather with conversation. "So, Kat says she's taking your shift on Sunday. Have something big planned with the missus?"

"Sort of." He shivered with the cutting wind. "My kid's been feeling homesick, so he's planning to give us a floo call."

"From Hogwarts?"

"That's what he said."

"Huh. Weird. I never got to floo my family while I was in school."

Eaton shrugged rather than answered. He never did that, either, but he wasn't about to question the How of it all. "How about yourself? Have any plans for tomorrow?"

"Crawl into a hot bath and never come out," the wizard joked. "Though my wife's insisting we try some muggle place near Diagon tonight. T.G.I.F., she called it."

"T.G.I.F?" He asked slowly. Muggles are strange.

His partner grinned. "It stands for Thank God It's Friday."

Maybe it was because of the island shrinking in the distance, maybe it was just from the stupid name; whatever the cause, Eaton gave a hearty laugh at the man's answer. "Sounds like a perfect place!" Then, with a shout to the winds, he added, "THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY!"

Luisa raced through the darkened hallway. She had almost caught the blasted thing! Yet the doorway continued to drift further and further from her grasp, and a phantom laughter echoed through the walls. She pushed more power into her efforts. With it, the pull from the walls lessened. She ran past a single torch, finally stationary rather than stretching further from other sconces. With vindictive satisfaction the door was finally close enough to touch. She grasped the handle and leaped to fly past the door-

-and was struck by a pendulum axe.

Wand clattering, Luisa emerged with a strangled gasp. Her hand clasped onto the cleaved shoulder, immediately grateful to feel the shoulder intact and not in any true pain. She had to steady herself. Deep breaths, ease the mind, you're alright, it wasn't real.

Now somewhat collected, her eyes flickered forward to the younger witch. The girl was panting with effort. Good. Serves her right.

"You really need to stop putting death traps in your mind."

"Hey," she panted, "they work, don't they?"

This girl will never learn, will she? "And should you need your memories?"

The girl's face was an open-mouthed grin. "Trap doors, ma'am. Trap doors."

The two leaned against desks, both still making effort to compose themselves. It took time, but it was much needed. Once they were settled, each took a proper seat. "So, a trap door?"

Bennett shrugged. "More of a special access door. Put in the right password, and I'm in."

"And what protects that password?"

"I'm… not sure," she looked conflicted. "I just say it in my head when I want something. If I don't think about it, it won't come up, right?"

"It's a possible risk." Luisa glanced up at the clock. "I will have to test it in our next lesson. Now that I have some idea of what I'm looking for, it will be easier to find and test its durability."

"Sure."

The girl's tone was off. It's no secret that this girl is overworked. Still, her hard work is paying off. It's worth a commendation. "You are making great progress. Far faster than any witch ought to be capable of."

A hopefulness cracked through. "You think so?"

It brought a twitch of a smile. "Some misguided ideas aside, you appear to have a natural talent for occlumency." Unnatural, more like it.

Bennett slowed into a smirk. "And to think, last year you said I wasn't skilled at all."

The smile vanished. "Skill and talent are different things. You have the ability to create strong defences; but without proper training and guidance, it can and has led to dangerous consequences."

The girl winced. Good. Much like the old adage of history, the girl needs to be mindful of her mistakes if she is to avoid repeating them. That risk is certainly a possibility, if Luisa's suspicions are confirmed…

"Skill will come with time and training. Who knows, if you show enough discipline and progress, perhaps your natural talent extends to other areas of mind magic."

"...What, like legilimency?" She asked. "Isn't that a terrible skill for me to learn?"

"Terrible…" Luisa mused over the word choice. "If used unwisely and recklessly, it is. If you have no interest in the subject, I will not teach it to you. However, I have already seen the consequences of what happens when you take to self-study," another wince, "so if you wish to learn it, and other areas of mind magic, it must be done under my guidance or by another legilimens. You are not to attempt the magic alone, and only when your occlumency reaches a strong enough level that I am confident in your abilities."

Luisa waited a moment as the young witch considered it. "...I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try." Then a thought passed her expression. "Well, I'm sure it will hurt; but if I'm capable of it, I might as well learn it, to be safe."

Safe. Another unexpected choice of words. "Very well. Continue working on your occlumency, and we shall see what the future holds."

Saturday October 30th, 1993

Harry fidgetted as he stood in front of the door. He'd been standing there close to five minutes now. If he keeps standing there, someone will notice; which means a lot of uncomfortable questions that will make this whole thing more awkward.

Come on, Harry, he thought, you've been putting this off for weeks, and today is your last best chance. Just do it!

He sucked in a breath, and knocked on the door.

A voice called from the other end. "Enter."

His hand went to the doorknob before his legs could tell him to flee. Now opened, he urged his legs inside. "Good morning, Professor Snape."

Snape lifted his attention from a stack of parchment. He eyed Harry with stoic confusion. "Mister Potter, to what do I owe your intrusion? Office hours are Mondays and Thursdays, you realize?"

"Yes, sir," he bit off a temptation to apologize, "I'm not here to ask about class."

"Then why are you here?" He asked, a touch annoyed.

Last chance to run. He looked down at the free chair across his desk. "May I?" At the man's nod, Harry sat down and mentally braced himself. All his practiced words swirling in his mind.

"Well?"

"I- uh- over the summer I found something in my family's vault," he lied. "It was a message, a memory of my parents, that they must have made before they died." Something unreadable flashed in Snape's eyes as Harry continued. "Sirius was able to play the memory for me before the magic ran out- and my mum had a message for you."

"...A message?"

Harry nodded. Her words played in his head. "She said that she was sorry for how things ended between you two, and that she knew you were trying to atone for your mistakes by helping with something called 'the Order'." The next part made Harry want to flinch, because trying to word something from 12-13 weeks ago as if it were said 12-13 years ago felt incredibly awkward. "She knew that you suffered a lot. Stuff about how hard things were with your dad and mum, so she hopes that you'll- that you'd find a way to have a happier life. Maybe find someone to settle down with. Somewhere far from Spinner's End, with lots of sunshine and clean air and a big garden and… just somewhere to give you peace.

"She also figured you'd have trouble hearing that." 'Bullheaded' was the word she used, actually. 'Stubborn git' was what his father countered with. "So she also said that, no matter what's happened between this message and now, it's never too late to find happiness. There's always time and- and it would make her happy to know that you've found a way to live your best life."

He risked a glance up at the professor, having dropped eye contact during the speech out of sheer nervousness. Snape, himself, looked in a daze. His eyes had a faraway look to them. His lips went into a tight line, holding himself back. Patient seconds passed by. Harry allowed the quiet, not wanting to say anything more. Unsure of how her message would be received.

"...I see," Snape paused again, briefly. "Was there more?"

"Not specifically," Harry answered, "she told a few stories about her life she thought I'd enjoy. Like when she tried to swing across the river and fell two metres short."

That answer brought a brief smile to the professor's face. Harry wasn't surprised. His mum told him that Snape had been there that day, and he had doubled-over with laughter when she practically belly flopped in the process.

"I wish I could have saved it, but Sirius said that the magic was set as a one-time thing. It would have been nice, hearing more."

"Agreed." Snape closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself. When they reopened, it came with a longer, gentle smile. "Thank you, Potter. I appreciate that you delivered her message for me."

Harry gave a weak smile in return. "You're welcome, Professor."

This time the silence that fell was genuinely awkward. Should he leave now? He wasn't sure. Snape caught on to it, too. He contemplated it for a moment and then spoke. "I can afford a few moments, if you wish to hear more about her, from our time before Hogwarts?"

That, Harry hadn't expected. The offer released the tension in his heart, and brought out a grateful smile. "I'd like that very much, sir."

Sunday, October 31st, 1993

Something was different.

That's the sense Harry felt when he woke up this morning. There was an odd feeling, like a steady molasses in his chest. It wasn't a good feeling, or a bad one. Just… different.

The feeling stayed with him as he got dressed, did his morning ablutions, and even as he walked down to breakfast. Inside the great hall excited chatter washed over him. Conversations about tonight's feast, as well as their first ever trip to Hogsmeade. Excitement. Was that it?

He thought about it, then mentally shook his head. No. That's not it.

It is Halloween, though. The anniversary of his parent's death. Other weird things have happened on Halloween in the last two years. Was that it? Mourning or trepidation?

…No. That didn't feel right, either. Actually, he feels less mournful this Halloween. Having been able to finally meet his parents and talk to them through the resurrection stone did wonders on the grief in his heart.

Though, now that he thought about it…

He pulled at the chain around his neck. The stone followed the slithering chain, soon resting in the palm of his hand. When it did, the steady presence faded a touch from his heart. At the same time, he could almost feel a trail of it leading to the stone. He focused on the feeling, on the trail. When the trail ended within him, he found two others branching off. One seemed to go through the floor, and another went upwards through a wall.

The other Hallows. Another thought crossed his mind, one that brought a humoured smile to his face. …Hallows. Well it is Hallow-een. They must be related, right?

He looked up, taking in his housemates, and waited for a break in conversation. "Halloween is supposed to be a holiday about the dead, isn't it?"

The tangent threw the others off. Most looked confused and shrugged it off. That said, Lily seemed pensive about it. "I think it was about our ancestors, rather than simply anyone that's dead. But that was Samhain, not Halloween."

Ernie seemed to disagree. "Wasn't it about doing dark rituals and stuff? Like necromancy and sacrifices?"

"No, I think Lily's right," Susan replied. "There may have been sacrifices, but only dark wizards did that. The original holiday was about honouring your ancestors. Supposedly it's the time of year when the veil between our world and the next is thinnest, so it's the best time to pay tribute to them and try to contact them."

"Oh," a few mumbled. Harry included. The best time to contact them? Of course!

Perhaps he should try again tonight? Maybe before the feast, so no one is suspicious. Though, that made him wonder about the other Hallows. Were they stronger too, today? But how would a cloak be stronger? And then there's the wand…

Thinking of the wand made him shudder. Maybe it's a good thing he doesn't actually have that one in hand, yet.

When the time came to get onto the carriages for Hogsmeade, Harry found that the effect from the Hallows was worse than he realized.

"So… Melody…" His hands floundered as he tried to find the right words.

"Yes, Houdini…?"

"Have you noticed anything… different about the aura, today?"

After a pause his seer friend released a breath. "Oh, thank god, it's not just me. So you feel it, too?"

"Yeah." He shifted the weight between his feet. "But, um, a while back, the Fat Friar mentioned something about you also having a bit of it?"

Melly winced, sucking in through her teeth. "Oo, you can feel that?"

"A bit. The ghosts also have it, but worse. Yours is weird, though. It's like death, but also not?"

"I mean, I am alive," she grinned uncomfortably. "But, yeah… is this going to be a common thing, now?"

Harry gave a noncommittal headbob. "I think it's just for Halloween. Since they're, you know…"

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." She looked about the area as more carriages left for the village. Seeing many gone, and her friends waiting for her, she looked back at Harry apologetically. "Since it's just for today, Houdini, would it be alright if we… keep our distance? It's kind of a lot right now."

If Harry were to be honest with himself, he was actually relieved at the suggestion. "Works for me. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See you later, Houdini."

"Bye, Melody."

"Once again," Melissa intoned, "I return to paradise!"

Beside her, Merton gave an amused headshake. The statement was dramatic; but, considering their arrival at Dominic Maestro's Music Shop, she wasn't exactly wrong.

"Can you even afford to buy anything? Last I checked, you spent all your money getting the Weasleys to Africa."

"Not all of it," Melissa answered. Actually, her latest letter from her aunt hinted that she had far more than ever before. Something about a missing blue macaw returned to its owner in America, and Uncle John buying her jewellery and snake-skin boots for their anniversary. Such lovely, expensive things for sure. Of course, the point of that money is to save it, not spend it. Best to keep a low profile while she's still young …and under watchful eyes.

"At any rate, there's no harm in browsing. This place always has cool and weird instruments."

"True." They stepped inside, a bell tinkling to alert the Maestro of their arrival. Not just the shopkeeper, as evident by Merton's sudden shout. "Gid! Myron!"

Further into the store, the pair of Weird Sisters grinned. "Hey Mert! Giggles, good to see you too."

"Same!" She gave each boy a hug, fighting a blush while she was in Myron's arms. "Shopping before the meetup, today?"

The boys nodded, then Gideon gestured to a long bundle under his arms. "Picking up a special order. Bought a keyboard for the band."

Something like a record scratch stilled her mind. "...A keyboard?"

Myron answered, "Well, since we've been using a piano for some songs, it makes sense to have one for doing live shows."

"Sure, but… keyboards are electric. Even with a battery, won't it short-circuit around magic?"

"Not this one," Gideon smirked with pride. "This baby's rune-powered. I'll be able to use it anywhere, just as good as any muggle keyboard."

"You can…" The words died on her tongue, leaving her gaping and grasping at the concept.

The wizards shifted with concern. Myron stepped forward and asked "Giggles? You alright?"

"...I know what I want for Christmas." There was a beat of silence. One long enough to absorb the words before the group broke into laughter. Melissa grinned with an idea. "Can I study the runes on that? I have to know how that works!"

"Sure thing," Gideon answered. "Let me just pay for this, first. We can go over it later when we're all at the Three Broomsticks."

Several minutes into the big Weird Sisters meet-up, the full group went into hysterics!

"You two," Kirley wiped a tear from his eye, "you two seriously wrote a Honey Badger song?!"

"Of course!" Melissa grinned. "A change like this needs to be immortalised!"

Heathcote made a good-natured eye roll. "I can't believe that idea is still around at school. You'd think it'd be less of a thing now?"

"With what the third years have gotten themselves into?" Merton shook his head. "Though, I'll admit, it's been less of a thing this term."

"Which is why it needs its own song," Melissa insisted.

Gideon raised a voting hand. "Well, as a former Hufflepuff, I fully endorse the track."

"Seconded!" Herman shot an arm into the arm.

The next arm came slower, since Kirley graduated from Gryffindor house. "It's hilarious. I'm in."

Still chuckling, each member soon had a hand raised. "That settles it," Myron finalised, "the Honey Badger Hymn is here to stay. Now, let's break out that keyboard and hear how it sounds!"

"Hear! Hear!"

The ghost of James Potter fell to the floor laughing. "Oh, I wish I could've been there to see it!"

Even with their faded appearance, Lily's blush was as vibrant as her red hair. "I was nine!"

"And I'm sure you were an adorable nine year old hippie, Sweetheart!" He got up and wrapped Lily into a hug, planting a fat kiss on her cheek. "Please tell me Snape has pictures of that night?!"

Harry grinned. "He does, but they're in his home, so I didn't get to see it."

"Blast! Well, there's always next time. See if you can get a copy of it from him."

"Oh, so now, you're alright with Harry and Sev talking?"

"If it means seeing you dressed up as a hippie or an astronaut, absolutely!"

His next use of the Stone didn't go as well. Fuelled by his conversations with Professor Snape and his parents, he was struck with a desire to meet his maternal grandparents. With Lily's blessing, he twisted the necklace and murmured their names; yet when the Evans' appeared, they gave haunting wails of pain. Lily was barely able to calm them long enough to introduce them to their grandson before they begged to be sent back. It disturbed him, their cries echoing as they faded back into nothingness.

"What happened?! Did I do something wrong?"

"I'm not sure," said Lily. "Tonight is so much easier than last time, I don't know why my parents reacted like that."

"Maybe because they're muggles?" James suggested. "I don't think I've ever seen a muggle ghost before. Have you?"

"Possibly. I suppose there's one way we can test it."

James' eyes went wide. "Oh! Oh, that could work." He turned to Harry. "Try calling my parents! I know they'd love to meet you."

After that last incident, Harry had his reservations. Still, it was worth a shot, wasn't it? He twisted the necklace again, calling out for Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. Each shimmered into existence. Wails of agony were thankfully not present as James introduced the pair to Harry, and Harry gave shy smiles and the two gushed over finally meeting their grandchild in the flesh - so to speak.

"Good lad!" Fleamont praised as Harry mentioned his future plans. "Before you do, though, you're going to want to clear out a few things from the manor."

"I already cleared out the manor-" James groused.

"Not everything!" Fleamont scolded. "I watched over you, boy, and you left some very crucial heirlooms behind. The family grimoires, for instance, and my own recipe book for potions."

"What? I thought those were in the vault?"

"The vault? Of course not!" Fleamont scoffed. "Why would I put family texts all the way in Gringotts?"

"Uh, because it's Gringotts?" James rolled his eyes. Harry watched the argument with amusement. "Great, so they're gone forever!"

"Pish! Don't be dramatic. They're safe in the secret library."

Harry blinked. Secret library?

"We have a secret library?"

"You have a secret library?!" Lily was far more excited. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Euphemia gave an amused smile similar to Harry's. "Would you trust James having access to a library and leave it intact? Especially once Sirius came to live with us?"

"...That's a good point."

"Hey! I'm standing right here, you know!" James shouted. Harry laughed loud over the family quarrel, catching his father's attention. "You agree with me, right, Harry?"

His laughter subsided to chuckles. Time was needed to collect himself before he answered. "I've seen what Uncle Sirius does to family libraries; even after he cleaned out most of the dark magic books in Grimmauld Place. You two, together, would have probably blown something up."

The group laughed loudly. "He's not wrong there!" Fleamont said with a smile. "I was going to show it to you after you graduated. Unfortunately, life had other plans." The man gave a shrug. "Alas that's how such things go. "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death" and all that."

Harry's mind piqued at that. "I've heard that before. …It's written on your headstone," he said with a gesture towards his parents. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"It's from the bible," Euphemia answered. "It's about how Christ will return and defeat the evils of the world, with the last enemy being death."

Fleamont rolled his eyes. "And everyone that survives Judgement Day gets to live 'happily' for eternity ever after. -Not that I agree with that interpretation-"

"It's in the bible, love-"

"Oh, here we go," James smirked. He winked at Harry.

Clearly this was an old argument he was witnessing. Somehow that thought seemed endearing. "What's your interpretation, Grandfather?"

Fleamont preened at the question, while others looked to the heavens with headshakes and smiles. "People treat death as a bad thing," he said. "They think that because life is wonderful, and death is the opposite of life, that it therefore makes it horrible. But it's not opposite, so much as two sides of the same coin. You can't have one without the other. I mean, look at us! Do we seem horrible or miserable to you?" Harry shook his head. "Exactly! It's only the fear of the unknown and the inevitability of it that makes death seem scary, but it shouldn't be! Life is full of adventure! Challenges to be faced head on and overcome! If we live in fear of death, we limit ourselves during our lives. It's only once you destroy that fear, and treat the inevitability of death as a friend rather than an enemy, that you can really live!"

His head moved in shallow nods as the sermon was delivered. He supposed that made some sense. A thought occurred to him. "Death as a friend, that's from "The Tale of the Three Brothers", isn't it?"

Fleamont gave a sharp grin. "Got it in one! Clever boy, I knew you'd catch on."

"I read the story a bunch over the summer." He looked down at the stone around his neck. "Wouldn't make much sense to ignore it after getting this, and the cloak, too. Did you know?"

"We've had our suspicions. That cloak has been in our family for generations, and we are descendants of Ignotus Peverell. It's why I believe Death shouldn't be seen as an enemy. Our ancestor had the right of it, and we Potters are wise to do the same."

Harry considered that, his fingers brushing against the stone. 'We all end up in a grave, eventually. It's nothing to be afraid of.' A ghost of a smile on his lips as Melly's words came from memory. Funny, to hear a similar sentiment from his grandfather years later. "I wonder if having the stone makes a difference. I've been told I also have the Elder Wand's allegiance, too, but Dumbledore still has it."

"WHAT?!"

That revelation brought on a frenzy. His family asked question after question, asking for him to elaborate on the whole situation. When they finished, a pensive silence grew around them.

"...Dumbledore must have known," Lily eventually mused. "Why else would he ask to borrow it?"

"What? To keep it for himself?" James shook his head. "No, he gave it back to Harry. That doesn't make sense."

"That could have been out of guilt. After all, if we had had the cloak with us that night, things could have been different."

Heavy silence fell over them.

Things could have been different.

The notion brought a tidal wave of yearning.

Euphemia stepped closer. "What's done is done. It can't be helped. Harry," a ghostly hand hovered over his shoulder, "I don't know what it means to be a 'Master of Death', if it means anything at all; but it's best to not let it bother you. You're your own wizard, love. Whatever happens, all we want from you is to see you grow and live a happy life."

Harry gave a hard swallow, blinking back tears as he nodded. "O- of course." He threw his arms around her without thought. A shock passed him as his body didn't pass through hers. He looked up at her, all five pairs of eyes wide in shock. "I- I can hug you!?"

Behind them his mother sighed, "Oh, Harry!"

James' reaction was far louder. "FAMILY HUG!"

A crash of bodies came from around him. With it, tears sprang from his eyes. He buried his face in the crook of his grandmother's neck and squeezed harder, revelling as he felt himself crushed under the strength of his family's love.

"Bloody werewolves!" Katherine Montague shivered in the draft, stone room as yet another pained howl pierced the air.

"Your fault for taking this shift," Simon muttered. "I'm stuck here, either way."

"Eh, the galleons are good."

"Not that good." Above them, a small clock chimed. "Dinner time. I'm sure they're begging for some slop tonight."

"If any of them can think, so not likely," Katherine replied in a snide tone. Then she took out a coin. "Heads or tails for the minimum wings."

"Heads!"

The coin flipped. Katherine made a tsk noise before showing the results. "Tails. Bad luck, Pritchard. You get the wolves and gutter-rats tonight."

"Go fuck yourself, Monty," Simon growled. He was half-convinced she cheated somehow, but he couldn't muster much of a fight. Not when he was in this hellhole. Eh, fuck it, he'll use his own coin next time.

The two levitated their trays and split off to the different wings. Simon made quick work of distributing small bowls of slop. There weren't many murderers and rapists in Azkaban, but enough to give him a sour taste. As for the two werewolves… Well, it's not like they'd notice a missed meal, right? Which meant he just had the Death Eaters left to deal with. Realistically, that lot ought to count among the first group, with their crime list, but they were an extra batch of crazy and pathetic he could do without.

He passed about the last tray of bowls. Pettigrew crawled forward for his meal, licking at the bowl like the hungry, worthless rat he played as. In the next cell, Malfoy was a contrast to the lot. Still acting prim and proper, as if he were still a high and mighty gentry.

"This is our second meal since our letters," Malfoy said. "Tell me, is today Halloween?"

"Yeah," Simon huffed. "Not like it matters, does it? You're spending the rest of your days here, Malfoy. Not like you've got much to celebrate."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Malfoy said. The answer was more of a purr. Which, like anything said positively here, raised the hairs on Simon's neck at the thought of Dementors swooping in to take a bite. Malfoy didn't seem to care. In fact, the man was actually smiling! His face was a wide grin, to the point that one of his teeth seemed to sparkle. "I think I have quite a lot to celebrate, tonight. Wouldn't you agree?"

Simon couldn't answer that.

That smile was the last thing he saw alive.

Author Commentary

Well I DID say 1993 is a crazy year, didn't I? Ha!

Fun fact, the Covent Garden T.G.I.F. was the most popular one in the world in 1992. Naturally it's still pretty popular the following year.

In the GOF movie, Gideon plays a keyboard at the Yule Ball, which shouldn't make sense considering the electronics rules. This is my way of making that fact seem plausible.

"If we live in fear of death, we limit ourselves during our lives," is SUCH a Gryffindor interpretation of that phrase! xD

Some eagle-eyed fans may have already caught this, but The Honey-Badger Hymn already exists as it's own file. It'll show up in-story in the future, but if you wanna see the song early, it's up in my list of posted works.