Chapter 9

Three students sat in a familiar unused room inside the castle, its interior possessing a certain flair despite not being as lavish as one of the common rooms. Warm light from enchanted sconces danced across the walls, casting a cozy, golden glow that made the space feel almost homely. Books and parchment were strewn across tables, evidence of the trio's diligent study sessions. It wasn't unusual for students to band together for the challenges, but bonds as deep as those between Blaise, Padma, and Hermione were rare.

Blaise, raised to be the perfect pureblooded prince, came from the upper echelons of wizarding Britain's nobility. He was expected—no, demanded—to attend Hogwarts to claim the Zabini seat on the Wizengamot one day. His upbringing had been one of privilege, but also immense pressure.

Padma's family lacked records of their wizarding heritage. She assumed her status was half-blood. Her family had risen from the Shudras caste and raised enough money to send their twin daughters to a premier magical school. It was a shared duty to succeed and elevate her family's standing. Padma had chosen the route of academic excellence, her sister had tied herself closely to the Brown family in hope that one day the relationship would pay off. The weight of familial expectations was never far from her mind.

Hermione, like Blaise, was born in England but was muggleborn. Her parents were dentists with no magical lineage, so her natural capacity for magic had surprised everyone and earned her a spot at Hogwarts—a rare achievement for muggleborns. Not only had she attended, she was excelling. Her drive to prove herself in a world that often disdained her origins fueled her every effort.

Each of the three had decided early on to not take the opportunities Hogwarts offered for granted. They held knowledge and improvement as sacrosanct, forming a triad of like-minded individuals despite challenges allowing for up to five per team. Their shared commitment bonded them tightly, creating a space where each felt understood and motivated.

Today, as on many days, they reclined in their private study space, away from peers who took their education less seriously. Padma, seated in a large, worn armchair near the fire, broke the companionable silence with a question.

"Blaise, what do you think of the Potter boy?"

Blaise, lounging comfortably with a book on advanced dueling techniques, marked his page and set the volume aside. His brown eyes met Padma's curious gaze. "In what way?"

"Well, it's a bit shocking he was let into Hogwarts, considering his history. But what do you think his reasons are for coming here?"

Blaise leaned back, considering. "It's obvious he's made tremendous progress if the rumors are true about him rejoining the wizarding world recently. It would imply he's reached the same competency as a seventh-year in just over a year on his own. That seems unbelievable to me."

"And he receives regular owl correspondence," Hermione added, her voice tinged with skepticism. "That suggests he has significant connections within the Wizarding world."

Padma shook her head. "Hermione, his correspondence could be due to his social status. He could be tapping into networks established by his family." Blaise nodded in agreement, finding the explanation plausible.

Padma leaned forward, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "He seems quite open though. You saw him offering to help those sixth years with their spells, didn't you?"

Hermione scoffed, her frustration evident. "Open to companionship, maybe. I call it loose morals. He's not choosy about who he associates with, is he? It's as though he has no standards."

Blaise interjected, trying to keep the conversation balanced. "What two consenting sixth or seventh years get up to on their own is their own business, he's successful. Especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He's one of the top in the class by my reckoning and that's with a miserable teacher."

Hermione couldn't hide her irritation. "I don't like him much," she muttered, her eyes narrowing.

Blaise and Padma caught each other's eyes knowingly. They had witnessed Hermione's thinly veiled animosity towards Harry in recent Transfiguration classes. Harry had asked pointed questions that had expanded the muggleborn's understanding of the subject, relating Transfiguration to muggle chemistry. Hermione had always considered muggle subjects her domain, and it was threatening to have someone else so knowledgeable in her 'territory.'

"He does take his studies seriously though, doesn't he?" Blaise remarked, not entirely disagreeing with Hermione but unwilling to dismiss Harry's efforts.

Padma agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "I hear rumors the next challenge will be a team one. Do you think he's worth approaching?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and a bit of strategic calculation.

Hermione's reaction was immediate and vehement. She slammed her book shut, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room. "Absolutely not! He's only been here a couple of months. We've been a team for years. Adding a fourth could disrupt our chemistry. Besides, he won't be staying for University like us. Why add someone for one year with minimal experience in the wizarding world? What benefit is there to us?"

Finishing her small rant, she turned back to her book, clearly done with the conversation. Blaise and Padma understood Hermione's reluctance was rooted in more than just rational concerns—it was personal.

Blaise broke the silence first. "Hermione, I understand where you're coming from, but we can't ignore the potential advantage he could bring. The challenges are getting tougher, and Harry's skills, especially in Defense, could be a significant asset."

Padma nodded, adding her perspective. "Plus, his willingness to help others could foster teamwork and collaboration, qualities that could benefit us in ways we haven't considered."

Hermione huffed, her expression stormy. "You're both missing the point. It's not just about skills or teamwork. It's about trust and continuity. We know each other's strengths and weaknesses. Bringing someone new in—especially someone as unpredictable as Harry—could jeopardize everything we've built."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Unpredictable? Or are you just afraid he might outshine you in areas you've considered your own?"

Hermione's eyes flashed with indignation, but she didn't respond immediately. Instead, she took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself. "It's about maintaining our focus and not getting distracted by unknown variables. We have a good thing going. Why risk it?"

Padma sighed, recognizing the deeper conflict within Hermione. "Maybe it's worth considering from a different perspective. We don't have to make any decisions now, but it wouldn't hurt to keep an open mind. If he continues to excel and shows he can be trusted, we could reassess."

Hermione's posture relaxed slightly, though her expression remained guarded. "Fine. We'll keep an eye on him. But I'm not making any promises."

With the tentative truce in place, the trio returned to their studies. The room settled back into a comfortable silence, the crackling fire and rustling pages the only sounds. As the evening wore on, the warm glow of the enchanted sconces began to dim, signaling the approach of curfew. Blaise stretched, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. "We'll meet here again tomorrow?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Hermione nodded, her focus back on her book but her mind clearly elsewhere. "Same time. And I'll bring those new potion notes we discussed."

Padma gathered her things, offering both boys a small smile. "Goodnight, Blaise. Hermione."

"Goodnight," they echoed, watching her leave the room with quiet grace.

As Blaise and Hermione put away their own materials, the conversation about Harry still weighed on their minds. It was a discussion that would not be easily resolved, but for now, they knew they had time to observe, analyze, and decide when the moment was right.


Harry thought about the approaching holiday. Halloween had never meant anything special to him prior to rejoining the Wizarding world. That was when he had found out the date his parents had been murdered and his life had changed. He reflected upon what the holiday meant to him now.

It was difficult to say that the date held any new significance to him, besides giving him an anniversary for the misery in his life. Since that misery was something he did not like to dwell upon, he made a decision that he would not let Halloween have any special hold upon him. Standing upon a parapet of the Astronomy tower, he looked out over his favorite view from the castle and lit up a cigarette.

He had been able to bring quite a few packs with him to Hogwarts, but had cut down on the habit as it seemed there were no others in the castle who smoked. Unwilling to bring additional attention to himself, this was a habit he participated in only when alone – or occasionally in Malfoy's view as it peeved the aristocrat so much.

His thoughts moved along to the time he had spent in Hogwarts so far. He found himself enthralled by the knowledge and teachers. At St. Brutus' there were a few teachers who were exceptional, at Hogwarts that status extended to each and every one. Not only were each of the professors researchers and masters of their respective subjects in the theoretical, they were also well-versed in the practical aspects. Harry was able to approach many of the professors and assistants for additional help or clarification on a point he did not quite understand.

That did not always mean the professors had an answer, however.

Harry thought back to a recent transfiguration lesson in which he asked about the relationship between transfiguration between organic and inorganic substances. Of course, those words did not mean to Professor Meadowcroft what they had meant to Harry. She had responded with a brief lecture on living versus non-living transfiguration and provided some source materials from which Harry could learn more.

Harry had checked the books out from the library but found that the Wizarding world was hopelessly behind the muggles in terms of actually understanding their environment. There were no references to carbon or, in fact, any other elements in the transfiguration texts. It seemed to Harry that many of the laws of transfiguration were actually theories and could use additional refining. Unwilling to speak in public about the closest held beliefs of the wizarding world about magic and how he thought they were wrong, Harry had decided to continue testing on his own.

In the week since that class, Harry found that the wizarding world's understanding of transfiguration was wrong in at least one way. It was absolutely possible to transfigure at least one jewel – a diamond. One simply had to use the "living" transfiguration patterns instead of the non-living ones due to the carbon content while holding in their mind the immense pressures required to refine the element into such a gem.

There was clearly opportunity there for additional research, but Harry had not found the time for it yet.

His days had been exceptionally busy. Classes and optional lectures comprised the hours of nine to four. Harry, however, had always risen before five and his sleeping schedule at Hogwarts was no different. He still spent an hour or two each morning in some sort of physical exercise. The Hogwarts grounds were perfect for a run, and there were certainly plenty of stairs. Working specific muscle groups was a bit more of a challenge without gym equipment, but Harry found he was able to transfigure decent weights, which he could use with various exercises to get a full body workout.

Following his workout and shower, he would spend time in the library researching related topics to the subjects he had learned the previous day and then attend breakfast. Classes took up the majority of the day, and after classes he made the attempt to go by the office hours of the professor which had the most interesting lecture of the day. He found much of his time spent with Professor Vector. While he was not willing to share his and Remus' theories regarding fourth dimensional runes and how they could tie to wards, he was able to work with the woman to gain a better understanding of how to scribe runes based on arithmantic formulae.

He was pleased with his progress there and had placed some basic warding schemes on his bed and trunk, commonplace amongst students in Hogwarts.

He also continued to practice wandless magic and could now manage the levitation charm with regularity. He guessed that it had taken him about seventy hours of practice to get to this point, and many more hours of frustration. He doubted it was worth it for the levitation charm, but hoped that with future spells it would take far less time. He was currently working on charms that emulated spellfire by shooting out a colored blast of light. The spell was an invention of Remus' and was extremely useful in a duel when you wanted to force someone to dodge a certain way for very little power exertion.

As one of his first arithmancy exercises, Harry had modified the spell slightly so that he could hold a ball of colored light in his palm, rather than simply expel it with velocity.

Outside of classes, Harry did make an effort to engage with his schoolmates. At St. Brutus' Harry had been one of the longest tenured students. He knew everyone and their motivations. He knew which students to avoid and which could be depended upon. At Hogwarts, Harry was at a distinct disadvantage. He was the new kid.

At least, as the new kid, he was a topic of interest. Harry traded on his status ruthlessly in order to get to know others in his class. There were cliques, of course. There always were. There was the clique of the Boy-Who-Lived, Neville Longbottom, which included two of his dorm mates. They got on amiably enough, but Harry could tell that Neville held him in some distaste, which precluded any truly close friendship with the two. Blaise, of course, had his own small group with Hermione Granger and Padma Patil.

The progressives largely followed Neville Longbottom, but a secondary quorum was run through Lavender Brown. The girl was a bit of a chin wag, as Harry found out early on much to his dismay after she had told Parvati Patil of a kiss the two had shared after Arithmancy one afternoon.

Beyond those groups were others that were also largely aligned by political ideology. The neutrals fell in line behind Killian Meaker IV, but to Harry's estimation, it was actually Daphne Greengrass who ran the show. It was to this group that Ernie MacMillian belonged. He was the boy Harry had cut off the first day during his conversation with Luna, and that bridge was well and truly burned in the process.

Draco Malfoy ran the Conservative group, and appeared to also be the whip. This was unsurprising, knowing what Harry did about Lucius Malfoy. Harry had ran into them already, and had several in his sights for revenge.

It was odd. Being a Potter would normally have marked Harry for inclusion in the progressive faction, but with Neville taking an immediate dislike to him, he was for the most part ignored by that clique. Harry was relatively happy for that – he had no interest in declaring his political allegiance at this time. Besides, other than Macmillian, the neutrals were welcoming of him, and tolerant of his friendship with Luna Lovegood.

Luna was an enigma. Clearly, she had some ability of which Harry was unaware, and that ability made her somewhat dotty at times. When she fell into those spells, she seemed more someone's annoying younger sister than a girl almost who was sixteen. When she came out of them, she was one of the most pleasant people to be around Harry had ever met. Relentlessly optimistic and full of child-like joy at every little thing. Harry had taken to wandering the castle with Luna at least once a week, each of them more curious about their surroundings than their classmates.

Luna, however, was not truly interested in the challenges. Thus, with the first challenge of the year fast approaching, Harry was sure he would enter as a solo participant. The challenge was to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts / Care of Magical Creatures challenge. His inexperience in the second subject, and his lack of a team, likely meant he would not be among the top finishers. He was okay with that, the experience of the challenges was important too.


"Welcome one and all!" came the enhanced voice of Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys, Groundskeeper, and Care of Magical Creatures Professor. "Today's challenge will test the mettle o' each of yer groups! It seems –" He coughed here in what was minor embarrassment "- that the creatures of the Forbidden Forest are not quite getting along with those Blast-Ended Skrewts we bred last year. We are looking to re-locate the Skrewts to a better habitat, but in order to do this, we have to track 'em down.

"That is where you all come in!" Several students groaned loudly at the prospect. "Now, now. The Skrewts are just misunderstood, is all. Perfectly harmless creatures. They are, however, quite wily at evading capture. So, today's task will be to capture as many Skrewts as possible and return them to me at my Shack." At least one group decided it was not worth it, and started to walk away.

"The reward for this session will be provided by Professor Kettleburn once the challenge is complete. You will have two hours. Once a skrewt is captured, you may not take it from another team. Your time begins now."

Teams set off with haste into the forest. Harry let them go claim their direction. When he was the last one remaining at the starting zone, he tipped his head at Hagrid and set off for the forest closest to the Quidditch pitch.


Harry dodged the massive crab-fish looking creature as it let out another blast of fire from its backside that propelled it towards him. Its mouth was large enough to take Harry whole into it, and its bottom jaw came to a javelin-like point. He had no intention of getting close to either and, not for the first time in his life, Harry wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew.

The skrewt's six legs swung it around and it began to slowly advance upon the teen. Harry let it come. He had found out that the well armored frontal shell was enough to stop anything short of spells that would kill the creature. He was not yet ready to take that step. Patiently, he waited for the sign the thing was about to jump for him again.

As soon as the creature swelled with flame, Harry moved. Jumping to the side, he quickly used a Remus Lupin special, conjured and banished bolas. Aiming for what he considered the exhaust port, Harry managed several castings at the back-end of the skrewt. As the bolas wrapped around the flame organ and closed it off the skrewt expelled a soft flame from its mouth. A shriek of pain emanated from the creature, but Harry held very little sympathy for it. He briefly wondered how the school had gotten around the prohibitions on experimental breeding to create such monstrosities.

With its main form of mobility stolen, the Skrewt was far less of a danger. Harry knew there would be a weak point on its underside, but was struggling to come up with a way to flip the large creature. It seemed resistant to levitation charms, so the easy way was out. A quick glance around his surroundings gave him an idea and some quick transfiguration turned a boulder between him and the skrewt into a fulcrum. Placing a log atop it, it took Harry the work of a minute to get the skrewt to position itself where he wanted it.

Another set of spells felled a nearby tree which fell upon his makeshift lever and the Skrewt was tipped upon its side by the log below it. Harry scrambled to hit its weak point with several stunning spells before he finally collapsed next to the unconscious creature.

"Archimedes: 1; Skrewts: 0." He spoke to the uncaring forest.

"Now, how to get you back to the castle?"


Though he had failed to be in even the top 50% of finishers, Harry was beyond pleased with his performance in the challenge. He was the only solo participator to incapacitate a Skrewt, and earned high praise from Hagrid regarding his ability to do so without killing the creature despite having never studied them. His finish also brought him to the attention of several other groups and while most were full on participants, he earned some respect from his classmates.

The reward was claimed by the top three finishing teams – Malfoy's, Blaise's, and Greengrass'. Each was invited to a talk and meet & greet with the head of the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It was without a doubt a networking opportunity, and Harry was sad to have missed out on it.

However, that was not the only extra-curricular talk available at Hogwarts, which frequently hosted titans of the magical world's academia and industry. On the Thursday before the Halloween celebrations Harry found himself at one such lecture, given by the esteemed arithmancer George Collingsworth, who was a cousin of Ethan Collingsworth, a member of the Pro-Muggle faction of the Wizengamot.

He had evidently not inherited the desire for politics, and had instead become a celebrated researcher in the field of spell-crafting.

"It is my belief," he spoke towards the conclusion of his lecture, "that magic is without limits. When we come to the edge of what we believe is possible, it is more likely that we have simply come to the edge of our ability to visualize or understand. This gift that each of us has been given has depths that are as of yet unexplored. That is what my colleagues and I do. We venture into the abyss in search of knowledge which can be turned into new treasures for all of the Wizarding World."

With that, Collingsworth took a few questions from the hall and Harry put himself into the line to ask one of his own.

"Thank you for coming here today, Sir," he began as many others had, "I find your outlook on the future of research into magic brings me a great amount of optimism regarding my own future. My question is this, you mentioned that you and your colleagues explore the abyss of magic; how much, if at all, have the advances in the muggle world assisted in that search?"

His question drew plenty of stares and a couple whispers. Collingsworth, however, took it in stride.

"The muggles continue to advance their art of science without a full understanding of the way the world works. While they have come up with some admirable theories, their inability to account for the mystic forces warps their theories. It is unfortunate, because there are some really brilliant minds there, but I'm afraid that we are unable to use most muggle advances in our work. Thank you for the question."

Harry nodded. The answer only confirmed what he had already suspected. Wizards were woefully uninformed about the muggle world. While magic may affect the physical reality and certainly may play a part in the mysteries muggle scientists had thus far been unable to unravel, certain disciplines, like math, remained pure even in the face of magic.

As he exited the lecture hall, he was approached by two girls from his class. He recognized Margaret Decoursey and Jane Barmore as members of Daphne Greengrass' team which came in third place in the recent competition.

"Hello, ladies," he began with a smile. "Congratulations on your recent finish in the challenge. I was very impressed with your six skrewt captures."

They blushed, which Harry took as a good sign, and responded. The two responded with a thanks, and then Margaret took over.

"I thought the question you asked Mr. Collingsworth interesting, Harry. You came from the muggle world only recently, are there specific advancements there you were thinking of when you asked that question?"

Harry nodded. "There were. I was specifically thinking about the advances in mathematics and chemistry. I've been unable to find resources that indicate the Wizarding world is continuing to follow those subjects. I thought that instead of wasting my time looking, it would be easier to ask someone from the field that would most likely have kept up with those subjects. It appears Mr. Collingsworth and his colleagues find their value suspect."

"Do you agree with that?" Jane Barmore asked.

"It is hard for me to disagree with Mr. Collingsworth. He is obviously an exceptional arithmancer. I'm sure that he has weighed the value of the muggle work himself."

"That isn't agreeing with him," Margaret pointed out with a smile.

Harry replied with a smile of his own.

The three continued with some small talk regarding lessons and extracurricular activities. The girls seemed interested in his morning ritual of working out and their eyes lingered the slightest amount on his arms – the only somewhat revealed part of his body. Harry did not discourage this and talked up the benefits of his regular exercise. As the three wandered back towards their lounge Seamus Finnegan, a member of Neville's posse, approached them.

"Is Potter bothering you two ladies?" He asked with a bit of saunter in his step. Harry noticed his eyes on Margaret. It was clear to him that Seamus seemed to like the girl.

"No, Seamus," Margaret replied. "We were having a conversation regarding the Spell-Crafting lecture we were at. If you had been there, maybe you could join in." A little hostility from Margaret there. Harry wondered what the connection between the two was.

"I was busy with Neville and Ron," came the reply as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did. Not every student of Hogwarts really took advantage of the opportunities presented. Some were content to coast. "Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the next Hogsmede weekend with me."

Harry gave the boy points for being able to ask in this environment, but unfortunately for Seamus, Margaret replied she was uninterested. Harry could see the suspicion and hostility begin to rise in the Irishman's body language.

"Why not? Going to be busy with Potter?"

Jane jumped down Seamus' throat for that comment, berating him over a litany of faults and follies. Harry, for his part, did his best to ignore his male classmate. While doing so, he caught a faint whiff of alcohol.

"Not going to say anything, Potter?" Seamus was clearly now angling for a fight. Harry did not have the energy to waste on a drunk schoolmate.

"Ladies, I'm sorry for Finnegan's rudeness here. I look forward to continuing our conversation later." He simply could not resist one last jab, as he was certain violence was about to erupt. "Perhaps at Hogsmede sometime." His sly grin was met with Margaret giving a small bite of her lower lip. Seamus became infuriated and drew his wand. His first spell came out slightly wild, and Harry shielded Jane from what appeared to have been a boil hex.

Allowing his anger to color his response, Harry banished the other boy across the hall where he smacked into the far wall. A moment of worry flashed across Harry's mind at the impact, but he followed up the banishing with a Stupefy. Seamus slumped to the ground. Running over to the boy, Harry checked to make sure he was physically alright before taking his wand and returning to the girls, who were stunned at the altercation. The entire fight had lasted but seconds.

"I apologize for that unseemly episode." Harry started. He was interrupted by a hug and a kiss on the cheek from Jane.

"No apology necessary, Harry," she said with a smile. "Thank you for protecting me from that idiot."

Margaret gave her own thanks and Harry held out Seamus' wand to her. "I'm not going by the common lounge just yet, he said. Could you perhaps return this to one of Finnegan's friends for me? I don't want to upset the apple cart even more than I have." Margaret took the wand and promised to return it. As the girls and Harry separated, Jane turned around once more.

"Harry, if you were serious about that Hogsmede invite. We'd love to spend another day with you."

"Then I will see you soon. Ladies." He dismissed himself with a bow and flourish. As they turned back around, Harry heard the two giggling and whispering with each other.

"Game, set, match," he whispered to himself.


Sirius gave a groan as he opened up another old newspaper.

"Tell me why we're doing this, again, Moony?" he complained to his friend.

Remus had arranged for the last fifteen years' worth of the Daily Prophet to be delivered to a mail drop for himself and Sirius. It had been the best way he could come up with to simultaneously bring Sirius up to date with everything that had happened in the Wizarding World, something that frankly, Remus needed too, and to search for clues regarding Pettigrew.

He admitted to himself, at least, that the latter goal was unlikely to bear fruit. How would the rat have maintained his invisibility had the newspaper caught wind of him? Nonetheless, Sirius and Remus had plowed through twelve years of papers with an eye out mostly for disappearances and murders. There had been a few of those in the decade both had been mostly out of touch with the Wizarding World, but there were very few that were still unresolved.

The primary purpose, however, was paying some dividends. Sirius had been livid at how his cousin's husband, Lucius Malfoy, had so easily kept himself in the good graces of the Wizarding public. Remus certainly thought it was a neat trick to go from Death Eater to philanthropist and had suggested that Sirius resort to the same tactics to bring the public back on his side once his name was cleared.

The political environment had migrated from an initial large boost to the progressive, pro-muggle faction after Voldemort's defeat to the current, more balanced, political landscape. It appeared that in the absence of any major threats in the past fifteen years, the conservative faction was once again picking up steam.

Remus did not answer Sirius as he picked up another paper. June 14th, 1993. He smiled. Apparently the Weasleys had won a lottery drawing for 700 galleons. It could not have happened to a nicer family. Remus had known Arthur and Molly back in the early days of the last war. They had both been a part of the Order of the Phoenix along with the Marauders. The Weasleys were class acts, if a bit too trusting.

He started to read the article. It appears they had planned a trip to visit Arthur and Molly's oldest, Bill, in Egypt that summer. He would have to remember to ask them how that experience was when he saw them again. He looked at the picture. They certainly looked happy. The family waived at the camera for a second before a few members turned around as if searching for something before the picture repeated.

Remus stared for a second longer. What had they dropped? He wondered with a smile. Leaning in for a closer look, there was a moment when Remus suddenly forgot how to breathe.


"Seamus. What happened?" Neville asked his friend, concern in his eyes.

"Potter." Seamus ground out. Neville's countenance suddenly turned hard and a low growl escaped from his mouth. "He was flirting with Margaret and Jane. He did not have a care in the world that she is mine."

Ginevra spoke up with a small bit of anger in her own voice. "To be fair, you and Margaret broke up last year, Seamus. In fact, I believe it was you who did the breaking up."

"That doesn't matter," the Irish boy spit out. "A mistake on my part, that. She'll see soon that I'm sorry and she will take me back."

"Of course she will, Seamus." Neville cut in. "If you'd like, I could put in a good word for you?"

Ginevra turned her head and rolled her eyes. Margaret was not going to go back to Seamus, especially since the boy had spent the summer in a casual dalliance with a muggle girl he had not been shy about telling others about. Seamus appeared to accept Neville's offer and Neville turned back to his other friends.

"Potter is becoming a problem. When he does something like this it is disrespecting all of us." From the looks of it, Ginevra could tell that Ron and Dean did not necessarily agree with Neville either. "We will need to make sure that Potter knows his place around here. He arrived late, he should start at the bottom."


It was Friday night, and the Halloween celebrations were just kicking off; the holiday was one of the rare events the school hosted. All Hallows' Eve had always been a special holiday to Wizarding Britain and the events of 1981 had raised the holiday to mythic levels for the current generation. The Great Hall was bathed in a soft glow from hundreds of floating candles. The low light level lent a seductive atmosphere to the festivities; the live music intensified the experience.

Harry had not made it far into the hall before he was approached by the brightest face in the crowd.

"Hello, good sir!" Luna Lovegood quite nearly sang in greeting. Harry felt his own face light up in response.

"Oh, hello darling," he answered, drawing out the last word for effect. Luna giggled and smacked his chest lightly.

"I haven't seen you around in a bit," she continued. "Where have you been hiding?"

"Oh you know," Harry started. "I've been around. Mostly holed up in a lecture or the library."

"You're so studious, Harry, but that's not all you've been up to, is it?" She looked at him again and then smiled before speaking again. "You're going to have a busy night, I think."

Harry shook his head in bemusement. "What do you see when you look at me like that?"

"Things that you can't," she responded while wagging her finger at him.

"Has anyone told you that you can be frustrating, at times, Luna?" he asked with a kind smile.

"Oh, yes!" she replied, enthusiastically. "Daddy tells me that all the time. The professors here sometimes too. Come to think of it, my classmates try to tell me the same. They just do not use the same words." She looked pensive for a moment. "I guess I have that effect on a lot of people."

Harry felt the tiniest bit of sadness in that last sentence, but chose not to comment upon it. "Well, my friend, what is life without a bit of frustration in it?" The words came easily and Harry reflected upon the fact that thus far, Luna was truly his only friend in Hogwarts. For one reason or another, he had made little effort to form any relationships with his classmates. Closeness with Luna, however, had just seemed to happen.

Harry held out his hand to the younger girl. "Could I perhaps have this dance, Luna?" he asked. Harry had never seen a bigger smile than the one he received in response.

As he led Luna in front of the band, Harry noticed that many of those that had been with Draco when he had been ambushed were also on the dance floor with their own partners. He smiled in anticipation of some small measure of revenge. As he and Luna twirled around the floor, Harry surreptitiously used his wandless levitation charm to raise the robes of certain august members of his class into their own faces. Beyond the tripping and flailing of arms that he had expected this to cause, it seemed that some members of Draco's posse had invited additional humiliation upon themselves with a distinct lack of undergarments.

The laughs and jeers brought joy to Harry's heart, and it was Luna's turn to shake her head in bemusement at her partner.

"Our little secret, right Luna?" he asked the silver haired girl.

"My lips are sealed, Herr Potter."

The night continued to wind on and curfew was called for those in the OWL programs. Luna bid her adieus and Harry, looking around, decided that he would pursue another goal for the night. He saw Jane and Margaret in the distance with a few of their friends, and Harry moved to join them.


Harry and Jane Barmore left the party early, each fortified by several generous libations. Harry led the way towards a secret passage he knew on the 2nd floor of the castle which exited on the sixth, with no elevation change through the passage itself. As he seductively drew his fingers across the neck of The Fair Virgin the painting allowed entrance into its guarded hallway. Jane was properly awed.

"I never knew this was here!" she giggled as Harry pulled her forward into the passageway. As they approached the exit, Harry was suddenly assaulted by the lips of his partner. It was an assault which demanded an immediate response, which he gave.

Gently pushing Jane up against the wall he began to kiss her neck, eliciting small moans from the girl. Moans which ceased as footsteps and soft voices echoed through the other side of the exit portrait. Harry froze at the sounds but Jane, with a seductive look, pulled him in towards her bosom and guided his right hand to her bum. Giving her a silent "shhhh," Harry continued to take the matter into hand, as it were.

The footsteps drew closer, it was now clear there were a pair of them, and stopped, seemingly right outside the portrait. This time, Harry was not the only one who froze.

"I don't care who you are, if you want me to give this to my father, then you had best have a good reason," came one of the voices, louder than the other. Harry did not recognize it, except to say that it was a male with a smooth tenor. He glanced at Jane, she gave a shrug and a look that said she did not recognize the speaker either.

The answering voice was muffled to the point that Harry could hear only a few words. It was another male, Harry thought. His voice was weak and tinny.

"You make accusations of which you have no proof," came the first voice again, haughty and arrogant.

The second voice answered low enough that Harry could not hear the response. There was a long delay before the first voice spoke again. It was hesitant this time.

"Very well, I'll do it. Now leave me." A single set of footfalls walked away. Harry and Jane stood, unmoving, still pressed against each other for maybe a minute before the first voice spoke again.

"Father…" it began with regret, "you've damned us with your choices." With that, another set of steps echoed away from the pair.

Harry could hardly breathe. The thrill of almost being caught with Jane, the mild inebriation, the hushed conversation – it was all making him feel very heady. He was sure there was something that could be divined from what he had just heard, but, he was young, and Jane seemed to be less bothered by the conversation than he. When she continued down the path of their previous explorations, he was more than happy to forget everything else and live in the here and now.