On the difference between opportunity, disaster and foreordination

Harry awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. The motionless body of Nott was still etched on the undersides of his eyelids; he couldn't help but shiver slightly. Rubbing his eyes, Harry tried to ignore the headache that came with the continued dreams of Nott's demise and the ensuing lack of sleep.

But time had flown by.

September, October and (to a lesser extent) November had been pure torture, but now things were getting better, thankfully. The extremely harsh cold the approaching winter solstice had brought with it broke the mood of his tormentors-most of the time, at least. The bone-rattling chill that seeped through some parts of the castle made lying in wait for hours a very uninviting business. Most people were also avidly following the inter-house Quidditch tournament, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. While he had initially been looking forward to flying, things were a bit different now, and he didn't deem it prudent to present a target in circumstances that could prove fatal.

Harry got up from his bed and slowly stretched. An undisturbed night's rest was always a very welcome if rare experience, so he was in reasonably high spirits when he picked up his robes and gently caressed the Black coat of arms. Thoughts of finally being able to talk to his grandfather welled up inside him, and he couldn't help but smile slightly.

'Good to see you in a fine mood today. Not your usual grumpy self this morning, Mr Black?'

The voice had come from the office and sounded more amused than berating. 'Yes – I'm rather looking forward to seeing my family.'

The matron made her way towards him and smiled crookedly. 'I still cannot get my head around the fact that you really are a Black... Well, show me your arm, young man!'

Harry obliged and watched her expression. At first she looked suspicious, then confused. Finally, she peered at him with very plain incredulity.

'Wh-When? How?'

'Madam Pomfrey, as much as I enjoy your company, did you really think I was watching you eagerly all the time out of pure politeness? It took me a while, but I think I have done quite well. What would your educated opinion on the matter be, ma'am?'

She continued to stare into his eyes, and he could see that her pride vied with her joy.

'You have done very well, Mr Black. It is no perfect work by a long shot, mind you, but there can be little doubt that you have mastered at least the initial stage. Are you interested in the Healing Arts?'

'Oh, yes! I have always wanted to learn about them, but Grandfather told me I should wait until I found an able instructor, since errors with these things might turn very unpleasant...'

He knew she had understood what he meant, as the turmoil behind her eyes was easy to spot. Officially, Madame Pomfrey was support staff, even though she held at least as much influence as a teacher. But she wasn't allowed to pass on her knowledge, strictly speaking.

After a while, she delicately spoke in a soft voice.

'Well, you know that I can't officially familiarise you with this noble branch of magic, Mr Black.' She paused slightly and gave a friendly smile. 'But as you have seen fit to honour me with your presence at least twice a week, I really can't help you picking up some things, can I? Merlin knows, I speak under my breath more often than is good for me, so you should really ignore anything I babble while I set to work, alright, Mr Black?'

'Haha! Thanks, madam, you are the best.' Harry couldn't help but feel elated. The Healing Arts had indeed been of very great interest to him for some time. In fact, besides matters of the mind and Charms in general he held them in highest esteem. There was also little doubt that Madam Pomfrey was extremely able. Even though he could observe the flow of magic as she had set to work, it had taken him nearly two months to be able to recreate the meanest of healing spells. But it really was so worthwhile that he wouldn't have cared to spend double that time.

She gave him a warm smile, but raised her finger in a sign of impending lecture.

'Now, Mr Black, I do still hope that you'll try to avoid injuries as best as you can. Self-inflicted injury will also not garner my attention, are we clear?'

'No worries, Madam. I do not really like being beset upon in the corridors – if you had any earnest doubt.'

'Don't get flippant with me, young man.' She wagged her finger accusingly, but he knew it was all still in good fun. 'Now – how about you trot along. It's nearly time for breakfast again.'

Harry smiled and gathered his things. Initially, he had been rather embarrassed that the matron had assigned him his personal bed, but in time he had come to appreciate it. He felt rather safe in the infirmary, too, not unlike his prolonged stays in the library, where he was kept safe by the legendary tantrums of Madam Pince. He had also gotten strangely close with the motherly healer. He was still perfectly respectful, but he knew she would probably not mind him dropping the act.

He finally made to leave and energetically walked towards the exit.

'Be careful, Harry. And have a nice holiday.'

Harry turned around and gave a boyish smile.

'You, too, Madame Pomfrey. Please stretch your legs and get some rest during my absence.'

Noting her chuckle, he left and made his way to the Great Hall. If there was a single regret on his mind at this moment, then it was that today would be a compulsory Defence against the Dark Arts lesson for him. He rummaged in his pockets and soon held the small piece of parchment in his hand.

'Mr Black,

As our previous arrangement indicated, you are required to partake in the last session of class before you leave Hogwarts for your family commitments. Depending on the results of your studies, I may be inclined to extend both your leave of absence, as well as your access to the restricted section.

Waiting to see your progress, I remain,
Yours very truly and devoted,

Aenor Eydís Rose'

He couldn't quite tell if the memo was her way of having a bit of fun with him. He was rather thankful for her free pass to the library, of course. He had found out that such a thing was apparently most unusual when Madam Pince had tried to prove his slip a swizz for at least half an hour before returning it with an air of utmost frustration. He was also very grateful that she tried to help him study Occlumency, as the subject was of greater importance than anything right now. The Hogwarts library didn't specialise in obscure magics, especially those concerning the fragile human mind, and Harry had the explicit impression that someone had once purged the library of more helpful tomes. Nevertheless, a few select works had helped him further along than he could have hoped by pointing to small details or even retelling stories of famous masters of their craft.

The extreme politeness of Rose's little snippet, however, clashed horribly with his memories of writhing on the floor in agony. Shuddering, he remembered how he'd felt stiff for two weeks after her little demonstration. He still didn't quite comprehend what had happened. His tentative theory was that she had not in fact tried to extract information, but made a very real try to overcome his defences with the sole intent to cause pain. He winced at the thought of how bad it would have been, had his initial efforts not rebuffed her...

Well–no matter. He had had some pretty excruciating lessons before, and as long as there was no mental scarring, he would put up with her sadistic streak for the benefits she granted him. Defence was probably the class he was furthest ahead in (after charms and not counting History of Magic, which he fully intended to never attend). He was glad that both instructors seemed to have taken an interest in him, though their approach was slightly different; where Rose seemed to prefer blood, torment and screams of anguish, Flitwick served tea and smiled.

~BLHD~

Breakfast was uneventful as most students were not keen on stalking the cold castle so early in the morning, and Harry did most certainly not complain. For once, even the Prophet had nothing bad to say about either him or his family. Something truly grave must be happening today...

Just as he made his way out of the hall, he felt someone press the tip of a wand in his neck. Moaning softly, Harry cursed his luck.

'Walk!' A determined feminine voice increased the force to his neck, and he was guided to an old club room that belonged to the students of alchemy, but would not be in use today until much later. As soon as they entered, he heard some muttered spells being directed towards the door and portraits, but he didn't make any attempts to turn on his captor. Only in the most desperate of situations would he willingly take the first spell to the neck. That person would make a mistake sooner or later; they always did. The unknown student forced him into a chair and someone took his wand from within his right sleeve.

Okay, now that is a bit worrying. It seems someone has finally done his homework.

Harry was actually kind of curious now about the person who had managed to sneak up on him, and was thus highly shocked when his captor walked around his chair and sat down on a desk quite a bit away yet directly in front of him.

It was Tracey.

'Good morning, and stop your gawking!' She casually held both wands and sat there, legs dangling far above the floor. It was kind of insulting that he had been overpowered by this little girl, but he knew she was a tricky one, even if she was usually content to play the role of best friend and sidekick; the fact that she had managed to alter her own voice so effectively that he had been unable to recognise her only served to prove the point.

'Tracey...' he muttered feebly. 'Look, if this is about Daphne then-'

A warning bang erupted from her wand, and he stopped talking that instant.

'Shut up, will you!? This isn't about your noble crap of self-sacrifice. I won't get involved, even if the both of you are so frustratingly stupid. You have two things to nod off, you will be on your way, and we will not speak of this again. Daphne doesn't and won't know, crystal clear?'

He nodded curtly.

'Good boy. In case you're wondering, I haven't told her about your motive, and I'll likely continue not to do so.' She paused for a bit here. 'Now onto the important matters at hand; I'm not here as Tracey, Daphy's best friend, but as the daughter of Amaryllis Davis, do you get my meaning?'

Her eyes narrowed, and the alarm bells in Harry's mind went off with an ear-splitting roar, causing him to stiffen in his seat.

'First, I have been forced to divulge a bit of information about you to Hermione. This includes your origins and some small hints about the general political landscape, as well as the Blacks. I have also warned her to stay away from your family. I doubt you disagree.'

Harry nodded once more. He didn't like to talk about these things, but if Tracey had done so on his behalf, he doubted Hermione would have the guts to go against her advice. There was also the small matter of two wands being pointed at him, of course.

'Good boy.' She said yet again and made a gesture as if to pet the air. 'The second matter is at least as serious. My mother officially suggests you "attend the Black Ball in an acceptable fashion. The accompanying guest of your choice will be of suitable presentability without being directly linked to your family." Those were the exact words of my mother. I do not know what she meant, and I didn't ask her. Just be a smart lad and do as you're told in this instance, get it?'

While Tracey's mother held no authority over him, it would nevertheless be prudent to heed direct advice here. He rarely got recommendations to specific courses of action from that direction, but he was certain they would not lead him astray.

'Alright, I shall do as Amaryllis suggests then.'

'Smart decision, Black.' With a smug expression, she threw his wand towards him, and the air about her changed. Now she was...just Tracey somehow.

She pranced towards the exit of the classroom and began whistling some ludicrous tune he wasn't familiar with. 'See you at Yule then, Harry. And by Salazar, solve your problems and make up with Daphy already!' She stuck out her tongue at him and disappeared through the door.

In disbelief, he allowed his gaze to follow her until she was completely gone. He would have to let his Occlumency down with her at some point. It really wouldn't be a stretch to believe that Tracey had a split personality hidden in that little frame of hers, and he really felt the need to be sure at times. Looking back at the situation, he pondered if Tracey's whole act of 'kidnapping' him had been meant as a reprimand for pushing his family and friends away. Sighing, Harry leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Well, maybe I deserved that a bit, but did she have to enjoy it that much...?

~BLHD~

That afternoon, their last class was Defence against the Dark Arts. All the conversations died down as soon as Harry entered the classroom, making his way to a place directly by the windows. Some latecomers were casually chatting and approaching their usual seats, but after spotting him, quickly chose to sit somewhere else.

Five minutes before the class started, Professor Rose entered the classroom, yet Harry registered that even though she was early everyone was already seated and nobody spoke. Wow – she really has trained them.

Rose wore thrilling light blue robes hinting at transparency that were just barely adequate for a teacher...possibly. No wonder the boys stand at attention, at least.

'A good day to you. Even though this is our last day before you celebrate Yule or Christmas, it is good that you are punctual. Today, I wish to talk about something that is of great concern to your Ministry of Magic and may play a role in your attempt to pass your O.W.L.s.'

Even the two girls who had obviously only pretended to listen until now jumped and quickly refocused their attention towards the ravishing beauty at the front of the class.

'Now, we shall talk in some detail about what your good curriculum refers to as 'Dark Creatures'. How about you name me some, but to make things more interesting, give me your reasoning as to why you consider your nomination to be of 'Dark' descent. You have ten minutes to think about this. You may discuss it with your immediate partner. Begin!'

That was a surprisingly difficult question. Harry knew something of the matter, but this was not only a rather deep subject, it also was highly controversial. The class seemed to take the questions seriously, and a low hum of whispered discussions broke over the silence Rose's presence had instilled.

Fifteen minutes later, Professor Rose casually sat on the desk and clapped her hands twice to get their attention.

'As you all have had enough time to think about the matter now, enlighten me with your musings, please,' prompted Rose.

That idiot Macmillan pompously raised his hand with confidence.

'Doxies, Professor Rose. They are poisonous and infest wizarding houses. They harm magicals.'

Pathetic.

'Alright, Doxies are up for discussion. Does someone have any thoughts on them that they would like to share?' She looked challengingly around the class.

Tracey raised her hand. Oh, this might be good. Rose had a knowing smirk on her lips, but allowed Tracey to speak anyway. 'Yes, Miss Davis?'

'Oh, I don't know anything at all about Doxies, Professor,' Tracey said in a plummy yet eager voice, clearly and quite amusingly imitating Macmillan. 'But I'd like to bring up mice for discussion as 'Dark Creatures'. They can infest wizarding houses and pass on diseases. They also bite, and I don't like them scurrying around. I am forced to say they harm my peace of mind.'

Did not disappoint, that one.

Half the class was hooting with laughter, and Macmillan was shooting Tracey murderous glares.

'What Miss Davis so eloquently pointed out is indeed a valid point. I would have done so differently, but her argument stands. Doxies usually only try to defend themselves when disturbed. They show no other instinct than most non-magical animals of the wild, except some tendency to cohabitate with magicals. Any more fearsome creatures to put forth?'

Hermione raised her hand. Rose nodded, and the girl started voicing matter-of-factly, 'Dementors, Professor. They don't eat wizards or witches or need them to reproduce, but they still try to cause harm to any human they come across. As they don't stand to benefit themselves, one might call them unreasonably evil – or 'dark', I suppose.'

'A better answer, Miss Granger. But I tell you there are non-magical beasts on every continent that do kill for inscrutable reasons, sometimes in shocking displays of cruelty. Let us take the common domestic cat for example. The majority of breeds will try to catch and kill most small rodents, even if they do not need them for immediate nourishment. If you ever observe a cat playing with a caught mouse, you may also develop a great deal of sympathy for the little vermin. I don't mean to say that these actions serve no purpose for the cat, rest assured they do. From an outsider's perspective, however, it is easy to mistake these actions for plain cruelty. You should therefore be careful to dismiss actions you fail to understand as "evil".'

The class looked unsure, but no one else raised a hand. Even Hermione looked thoughtful.

'Let me be very clear; there does exist only a single creature that deserves the label of being 'dark'. You may have heard all the stories about Inferi, Boggarts, Dementors and whatever else. I tell you, these creatures were created by wizards and witches themselves often enough, and their obvious intent to cause harm was implanted into them. A tool that is forged to hurt others can hardly be evil, wouldn't you agree? Others, like the Boggart in our line of examples, do simply follow their natural instincts. Those instincts are not inherently more malicious than those of other creatures and beasts, just because they have evolved to prey upon humans. Surely, you would agree if I said a bear wasn't more inherently evil than a squirrel for example. Both are omnivores, but just because one of those two can actually kill humans for the sake of its needs, does not make it more nefarious. This, dear students, is ignorance and arrogance at its most primal.'

The class was completely silent. A few seconds later, Hermione again raised her hand. 'Professor, but you said there was a single 'Dark Creature'. Which is it then?'

'Oh, yes indeed. Tell me then, Miss Granger! What do all those creatures lack, that would turn them into truly evil entities?'

Harry could see Hermione thinking furiously about this for a while, before her expression turned to shock. 'Freewill, Professor.'

'Freewill it is, Miss Granger. In short, to be able to objectively and subjectively differentiate to a certain degree between several options based on concepts of morale, efficiency, repercussions, experience, et cetera. A higher consciousness. Now, have another guess at our 'Dark Creature'!'

Several others had obviously gotten there at last. Bones looked outraged.

'Surely, Professor, you don't mean to say that witches and wizards themselves are 'Dark Creatures'?'

'Oh my, Miss Bones, I did not mean anything by it.' Rose smiled sweetly. Not bothering to hide her sarcastic streak, she led them on, 'I was merely innocently following the logic laid out by our good Ministry to the bitter end. It is so very regrettable that it somehow turned into this mess at the end, isn't it?'

Bones was fuming but held her tongue. Professor Rose wasn't finished yet, in any case.

'Maybe we should approach the matter from a different perspective. Wizardkind is, after all, not the only magical creation capable of higher judgement. Name some other, please.'

Macmillan seemed bent on recovering from his earlier blunder.

'House-elves, Professor. Centaurs or goblins.'

Someone in the back of the class snorted at the mention of elves.

'Very good, Mr Macmillan. Now, dear students,' she smiled sweetly, 'of how many elvish Dark Lords have you ever heard? Of how many centaurs making a bid for supreme ruler of the universe? And for all the talk of goblin-rebellions your History of Magic teacher is sure to bore you with later, have you ever heard of a single murder committed by any goblin against a witch or wizard? Anyone? For your information, you have not because, while Goblins do not refrain from attacking most brutally in times of war or as an act of defence, they consider casual violence to be so extremely abhorrent that it physically revolts them to even consider such actions.'

Again, the class was silent. Harry had to admit that she was rather proficient at manipulating them. Several people were listening to her with open mouths. Others, it seemed, were only managing to not embarrass themselves because the frequency of her strange revelations had somewhat blunted them.

Seeing the prevailing looks of astonishment, Rose sighed.

'If you manage to brand this into your brain, I will be most pleased with the class: Question the world, question the status-quo, and–most importantly–always question yourselves! As your homework over the holidays, I expect your thoughts on the term 'dark'. You may refer to 'Dark Creatures', 'Dark Lord', 'Dark Wizard or Witch', 'Dark Item, Object or Artefact'. You may even make use of the term 'Dark Arts' if you truly wish to fail my class. I expect honest thoughts on the matter, so do not bother asking your parents, as the ongoing bigotry in this country has led to some very strange beliefs and maimed intellects. This will also be the first time I shall set a minimum length for your assignment; as you have a lot of time for pondering and writing, let us say you need to submit a minimum of three feet. If I catch anyone copying the thoughts of another, you may both repeat the assignment with double the length in half the time.'

The class collectively groaned.

Professor Rose, in turn, flashed a smile. 'Enjoy your holidays!'

Most students returned the gesture. Even without Rose's glance, however, he knew that he wasn't dismissed, so he gathered his things with deliberate slowness, trying to not arouse suspicion amongst his classmates. Some of those Hufflepuffs might become even angrier with him if they thought there was something inappropriate going on between him and their idol.

Soon, they were alone again, and Harry felt oddly queasy as she silently closed the door. But she simply returned to her seat and gave him a cocky smile that sent a shiver creeping down his spine. Merlin! Those robes really are even more suggestive up close...

She had no doubt noticed his looks and obviously basked in his nervousness.

'So...what did you think about the lesson, Mr Black?'

Harry was very aware how he had to make a considerable conscious effort to keep his gaze on her face. Damn – she's toying with me.

'I thought it was pretty good. I personally enjoyed how you mocked the Bones girl most, but I do appreciate your skill in playing an audience, as well.'

She gave him an amused grin, but didn't respond to his suggested topic. 'What did you use your carte blanche for, these past months?' she asked.

'Only two matters, and you may check with Madam Pince on that, Professor. Firstly, of course, I concentrated on the advancement of my Occlumency. As a second matter of interest, I also discovered that the barrier you so aptly cast during our first lesson curiously enough does not seem to be featured in any publicly disclosed work Hogwarts has access to.'

He had gone pretty far with this, but he needed to know where he stood with this person sooner or later. He was also very eager to gain any amount of control over the conversation, as his wandering eyes, shame, embarrassment and fear (though he hoped she would not pick up on that) gave her all the cards she needed to play.

'What curious research subjects, Mr Black!' she responded loftily. 'How would you rate your progress on the matter of your defences then?'

'Satisfying, Professor.' He really was quite confident.

'Interesting. Last time, you had to overcome, how shall we call it, a more straight-forward attempt on your defences. What would you say should be the natural next step, Mr Black?'

Harry frowned. Well, if she had tested him on power... OH, DAMN!

Immediately, he concentrated with every fibre of his will on his mind, and–sure enough–soon found several infinitesimal penetrations. Panicking slightly, he let a great current of magic flood through the rails of his psyche and didn't stop until he felt several small and foreign presences retreat.

Professor Rose looked victorious.

'When did you start?' Harry asked, trying to hide the exhaustion and pain in his head that was the result of his forceful and rather brutish actions.

'Naturally, as soon as I took a seat. I would have thought our past dealings had put you a little on edge, but I am so very glad to see how relaxed you are in my company, Mr Black.'

Yeah – and not gullible, at all. But this could be bad. Depending on how much she saw, I may have to call upon Grandfather to do something I really would prefer not to do.

'How-How much did you see?'

'Do not worry, Mr Black. I did not try to dig, as you would likely have sensed my incursion then. In truth, I only saw the very thoughts on the immediate surface and first layer of your consciousness.'

She paused for a short while, before she added with a thoughtful look.

'Trauma-induced near pathological fear of women is rather unusual, Mr Black, but I will not inquire, of course.' She flashed him something that could pass for an apologetic look in the right light. 'You could definitely do worse, though. At least, you will always be on guard.'

Harry was really peeved that this had come up, but there was no way out any more. He also idly wondered how many men hadn't been 'on guard' against this show of immaculacy before him – and paid the price. Rose was powerful. Really powerful. In fact, she was quite blatantly a foreign prodigy, though this made even less sense, as he had never heard of her before. He desperately needed to get more information about her...

'Professor, please! That matter is quite private, I would rather prefer it if you did not share it with others.'

'Oh, don't worry, Mr Black. That would be so very, how would you say it here, un-Slytherin-ish in my approach?' She laughed merrily. 'I doubt that word is okay as it is, but your language is so strangely restrictive with compounds.'

Don't mind her obvious bait to lure you into speculating about her mysterious origins. What could she have meant with 'un-Slytherin-ish'...? Oh, thrice be damned! She was talking about freely giving away blackmail material, wasn't she? Damn it! Another tricky one to deal with.

'Your method of ejecting me from your mind was quite efficient. While you were not able to perceive my attack without help, your defences have seen some definite improvement since last time. I think you shall be ready for your final exam on this matter before the end of the year. I therefore do intend to extend your hitherto existing privileges. You should be warned though; I consider your progress at the moment to be only at about 40% of what you need for the last test. It would be very much in your interest to keep improving, Mr Black.'

She gave him a haughty simper. 'Is there some other matter, or is it simply my presence you're enjoying so much right now?'

Merlin, she was dressing up like this to distract me, wasn't she?

...And there it was. A sudden inspiration so brilliant it was scaring him slightly. It was also scaring him for several other reasons, of course, but it was still a good idea – probably.

'There was indeed another matter, Professor Rose.'

She looked at him in honest interest and ever so slightly inclined her head. The world is so cruel that someone who so casually desecrates your mind takes the shape of an angel incarnate. How should he best approach the matter...? Ha! Why not let her have a taste of her own medicine to break her pace.

'Say, Professor. Are you pure-blood?'

Harry immediately congratulated himself on his chosen course of action. Whatever Professor Rose had expected, this wasn't it. Her eyes only gave away pure confusion. Then quite suddenly, her expression changed to a dangerous smirk that seemed daunting.

'And why would that be any of your concern?' The atmosphere grew cold. 'Or why should I refrain from transfiguring you into catnip right now and look for the caretaker's kitten?'

Damn! The problem with shocking people is that it is always hard to calculate just how far you can push them. Don't anger the scary ones, Harry! Well – no honourable retreat possible now anyway.

'Because I think you are, Professor. You hold yourself with the air of someone of a certain background. You hinted about family in Britain, and I somehow got the feeling you did not mean your favourite Muggle Uncle Tom. You casually refer to the coming holidays as Yule instead of Christmas. Even though you suffer from a language barrier, as you claim, your grasp on formal English is quite profound and hints at some kind of formal training, lessons or at least passing interest. There were a few other things, but I think those are the more obvious clues.'

You pulled the tail, now there is nothing else to do but wait and find out what lurks behind the bush...

The young professor gave him a hard look, but didn't otherwise move an inch. Those astonishingly light-blue eyes seemed frozen in place, deep in thought. Finally, she once more elegantly crossed her long legs and stared at him with an expression of extreme calculation. 'You still have not really stated your intent, Mr Black. I see no reason to reveal my personal view on this as long as your purpose remains unclear to me.'

Well – that could have been worse. Harry slowly exhaled. 'I meant no disrespect, Professor. I simply thought that if you were by chance interested in more traditional views on wizarding culture, you might savour the chance to spend a sociable evening in fine company at the Black Ball this Yule.'

She raised an eyebrow, but he could see she was amused. 'You are quite bold for your age, asking out a woman six years your elder, Black. Are you sure you are not, in fact, more of a Gryffindor?'

'Please, Professor. That is a formal occasion, hardly some smutty tryst.'

Suddenly, she exploded with a laughter that was unnervingly captivating, if not exactly lady-like. 'Smutty tryst, Black? Maybe you are older than you seem. But you are aware that my position as teacher would never allow me to accept an invitation made by a student of mine to a private evening of cultivated socialising, no matter how respectable the occasion may be, am I right?'

Her eyes wandered to the window. 'If I were to receive a formal and official invitation by the Head of House Black or his scion, I may, on the other hand, find myself amenable to the idea.'

She glanced at him as if measuring him up. 'But why would you be interested in making such a curious invitation in the first place, Mr Black? I am sure there will be many people of fine standing present, but I very much doubt your House is so charitable as to give these opportunities for free...?'

Aha! A true pure-blood to the bone. This was as good as he could've hoped for. 'How about this, Professor? You teach me about the principles of your remarkable barrier technique, and I will have you enjoy a very good evening and personally or by extension of my grandfather introduce you to whomever you like?'

He was sure her eyes sparkled for a second. Being introduced by the Head of House Black was more than enough to open doors. Within certain circles, at least.

'That seems...acceptable. If you so ardently crave my company over the holidays, I think I may just do you this little favour. I do want guarantees, however, that you will not reveal what you come to learn from me to anyone but your direct descendants, is that clear?'

That is...applaudably paranoid. 'That seems reasonable, Professor Rose. I shall arrange for an official invitation to be sent to you this very evening, then.'

'I shall look forward to it. You are very lucky, you know.'

That perplexed Harry. Truly unsure what to expect, he himself now raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to go on.

'You get a beautiful young lady to grace your arm for the evening; may weasel more information out of your mysterious teacher; present an unknown but powerful witch to your grandfather; introduce said witch to other families as an acquaintance of your house; and annoy the best friend of your childhood sweetheart in the process. A truly felicitous turn of events if you ask me.'

She smiled benignly, but Harry stood stock-still. It was evident that she wanted to let him know that she could read him at least as good as he could. Given that he was a known entity within some parts of magical Britain's society, he was, in fact, quite sure that she knew a lot more than him. But this was still a good opportunity. And he really could not wait to see Tracey's face.

Oh, this is going to be so good! That's what she deserves for relishing in bossing me around like that...

Nodding to his official date, he slowly walked to the door.

'You know, Black, now that I am aware of your little problem, we'll have to spend some private moments together before the ball. To get you acclimatised, you know? I don't want you jumping all over the place every time you touch my waist while we dance.' Her glee was as obvious as his sudden sobering.

Please not another sadistic tease! Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...