Undeliverable, return to sender

'Settle down, settle down!' called Severus Snape placidly as the rest of the Slytherins strode inside.

He busied himself with his paperwork, waiting for his house to find their seats. The Gryffindors were already seated, muttering furiously; had any of them been late, much less half the house, it would have been raining detentions.

'As you might have heard from other members of staff, this year represents a crucial part of your academic careers – such as they are. Whatever you fail to internalise, you will be desperate to catch up on next year with your OWLs looming ever closer. Thus,' he said, sneering at a few Gryffindors, 'I will not tolerate any dim-witted tomfoolery with our projects, and I shall punish any shortcomings most harshly, no matter how easily explained in some of your cases they might be.'

His cold eyes darted momentarily to Finnigan, causing Draco to snigger.

Professor Snape chose to ignore him. 'It is also my duty to inform you that you shall be given the option to attend special Apparition lessons this year. Everyone intending to participate should contact his or her Head of House. A Ministry official shall be your teacher, with a handful of Hogwarts' staff in attendance. The cost of this special lesson will be twelve Galleons. You will be able to take one of the Ministry tests as soon as you turn seventeen. Any questions?'

A few Gryffindors raised their hands.

'None?' continued Snape smoothly, looking down at his notes so he wouldn't have to acknowledge the waving hands. With a tap of his wand, a set of instructions appeared on the board. 'Very well. The Wideye Potion, also known as the Awakening Potion, serves as an effective countermeasure to several malicious poisons and physical maladies or injuries. Can anyone name at least a single one? Miss Greengrass?'

'The Draught of Living Death, sir.'

'Indeed, five points to Slytherin. Can someone list at least one medicinal use of the potion besides its use as an antidote? Finnigan, how about you regale us with your far-famed wisdom.'

'I, er, I dunno – Professor.'

Professor Snape gave a humourless little smile. 'Astonishing. Three well-deserved points from Gryffindor. But perhaps another brave lion is willing to step into the breach?'

Ronald Weasley was about to snarl something in anger when one Gryffindor girl reluctantly raised her hand.

'Patil!'

'Physical concussions, sir?'

Snape grimaced, failing to find anything wrong with the answer. 'The instructions are on the board. There will be silence. Begin!'

'Professor Snape can be really mean,' said Hermione as they left the Potions classroom later on. 'Is there really a reason to be so nasty towards the Gryffindors?'

'Maybe not, but it's great for its entertainment value,' said Draco, grinning.

Hermione scowled, muttering something inaudible as she purposefully slowed her steps to fall in line with Tracey and Daphne.

'Is it really so fun to provoke her at every turn?' asked Harry mildly.

Draco sniggered. 'Yup, it sure is! Anyway, those Gryffindors got what they deserved. Did you hear them grumbling, acting all cranky just because this year's Head Girl isn't a bloody Gryffindor?'

Harry nodded. 'I did.'

'I rest my case, your Honour.'

'But do you have to be so petty about it?'

'Petty? Me?!' He pulled on Harry's robes, dragging him to the side of the corridor, waiting for the girls to pass by. Lowering his voice, he said, 'Speaking of petty, Goyle told me someone hexed Abbott's shoelaces to trip her whenever she had her hands full. Incidentally, that must have happened right after our Defence class. A real mystery, that, ey?'

Harry shrugged, but he didn't bother fighting the small smile tugging at his lips. 'It was mostly harmless. Besides, I know Abbott. She's a prime example of a conceited cow.' He didn't add that he greatly enjoyed her kissing the floor in front of the entire school that morning. He figured that went without saying.

'Just because she didn't like to play with poor little orphaned Harry when he was five years old?'

'No,' returned Harry coolly, 'because she's one hateful, sneaky drama queen.'

'You're way sneakier than her.'

'Are you seriously trying to make a case that I'm worse than Abbott?'

Draco laughed. 'Nah, I'm just winding you up, mate. That rag bag can go crawl into a swamp for all I care. Come on, if we don't hurry, that old dragon will bite our heads off.'

Harry and Draco were barely on time, taking their seats at the very back as the bell rang. Professor McGonagall's lines hardened, but she didn't say anything.

Harry couldn't bring himself to pay attention to McGonagall as she began to explain the intricacies of inanimate to animate matter Transfiguration, especially insofar as it concerned reptiles. With a bored glance at the board, he surmised that they were going to try to change some kind of metal into a turtle. The wiggling diagrams and rather large charts didn't exactly present a problem for him, but he'd long since learned how little that would help.

In the end, he gave up on ignoring the equally bored Draco, and the two of them played a stealthy game of Battlebrooms on two pieces of Harry's parchment. It came as no surprise that when it was finally time to test the spell McGonagall had taken painful steps to explain to the class, Harry and Draco both performed rather miserably.

'A4!' hissed Draco.

'Miss.'

'Bollocks! You're cheating!'

Harry smirked.

'Careful, old bat approaching,' mumbled Draco.

'How about you try again, Black,' said McGonagall as Draco surreptitiously sorted their game boards between his stack of parchment (but not before, Harry noticed, he snuck a glance at Harry's sheet).

With a nod, he prodded the teapot with his wand. Nothing happened.

'I know you're fairly advanced with non-verbal spells, but it might be best if you tried verbally again. At least for now.'

Harry sighed inwardly but performed the spell again, this time muttering the incantation. The teapot, however, continued to mock him in all its rusty glory.

Over McGonagall's shoulder, he could see Hermione inspecting a turtle which seemed to be hiccupping steam.

The teacher turned his teapot in her hands. There was absolutely no change whatsoever. 'Well, better continue practising, Black,' she said before her beady eyes fell on the sniggering Draco. 'Your turn, Mr Malfoy.'

Harry didn't bother to hide his smirk as Draco's spell accidentally broke off the handle of his teapot.

By the end of the lesson, Harry had managed to produce a kettle with some shell design. Draco, to McGonagall's bewilderment, had turned his teapot into a toad.

They laughed about it, Draco and Harry both convinced the other one had performed worse.

'At least I managed to transfigure my teapot!' said Draco smugly.

'Sure. If only you had managed to change it into something even remotely resembling a tortoise,' replied Harry, rolling his eyes.

'Details, details! The outcome isn't all that important; what counts is being first and best!'

When Harry didn't hurry up and pack his things, Draco tapped his foot impatiently. 'What are you waiting for?!'

'McGonagall told me she wanted to have a word with me.'

'Need some catnip to distract her?'

Harry smiled, shaking his head. 'See you at dinner. You've got Quidditch practice, right?'

Draco nodded, casually swinging his bag over his shoulder. 'The brooms should be there too. Time to practice my victory laps!'

Harry took his time to gather his things, but eventually he found little reason to dally any longer. Curious, he approached the Transfiguration Mistress. 'You wanted to speak to me, Professor?'

'Yes, I did, Black. Sit down,' she said, conjuring a seat that looked slightly more comfortable than the school chairs.

Harry did as he was told, looking at his teacher with polite interest.

'Have a biscuit,' she said, pointing at a little jar on her desk.

Harry took one, nodding graciously, though he made no indication that he was going to taste it.

'It's been … difficult, I confess – having you attend Hogwarts under a different name and in a different house. In a way, you're at least as much Sirius' as you are your parents' child – if not by blood.'

Harry didn't bat an eyelid, still waiting with an expression of vague courtesy.

'You're not supposed to have favourites, obviously, but Lily and James were two of mine. Did you know that?' said McGonagall with an almost mellow look.

'No, Professor.'

'I even liked Sirius,' she said with a crooked smile, 'though I never quite figured out why. It's a great tragedy what happened to your family. I … I sometimes regret not being able to do anything for you back then. First with your parents and then …'

'That is kind of you to say, Professor,' said Harry evenly, not feeling moved in the least. So what if she'd wanted to help? The important bit was that she hadn't. He'd had the sympathy of all of Wizarding Britain, but only Arcturus, Sirius, and Regulus had come to his aid – and two of them had paid the price.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, returning to the here and now. 'Anyway, I actually wanted to discuss your performance in my class.'

For the first time during their conversation, Harry was mildly surprised. 'Yes, Professor?'

'When you first set foot in my class, I was convinced that you'd do exceedingly well. Your grasp of magical theory seems … more comprehensive than what I could reasonably expect of my fifth years. And yet I've seen the quality of your work deteriorate to the point of mediocrity. Do you have some kind of explanation for that?'

'I'm sorry to disappoint you, Professor, but I guess Transfiguration has never been my forte.'

'But I was right, wasn't I? You do still effortlessly follow the theory behind it all.'

Harry shrugged modestly. 'I suppose so, Professor.'

'Prove it.'

'Excuse me, ma'am?'

'Prove to me that you understand it. Otherwise, I'll have to conclude that you're intentionally bungling your tests.' Her sharp gaze seemed resolute.

'Wouldn't proving that I understood the theory cast even more doubt on my performance, Professor?' asked Harry with a lazy grin.

McGonagall's lips were a thin line of displeasure. This was apparently no time for smart backtalk.

With a sigh, Harry got up, walking towards the board. After a second of pause, he started wiping parts of the equations, altering the charts, writing additional lines between the original instructions, his terrible scrawl mixing with McGonagall's neat script. After four or five minutes, he sat down again, looking expectantly at the Head of Gryffindor House.

'Those are the instructions for the reverse transfiguration,' she mumbled disbelievingly. 'Did you learn them by heart from next year's books?'

'No, Professor.' Seeing her sceptic frown, he added, 'It's just an application of the underlying principles. I've never tried nor seen that particular spell.'

'Transfiguring animate matter is decidedly more difficult,' she said doubtfully.

'Yes, Professor, but the theory isn't.'

'You've studied how magic affects humans, haven't you?' she demanded suddenly.

The question had a few pointy hooks, but Professor McGonagall wasn't a very experienced angler. 'A bit,' he admitted politely. 'But I've been mostly concerned with Charms, Professor. I'm perfectly able to disassemble most hexes into their theoretical components, but I'm far from the best at casting them within my year. Bones and Abbott, I'm sure, could attest to that.'

'Well, I've heard that Filius and Bathsheda praise you in the highest tones, so I'd assumed … And you're really not holding back?'

Harry sighed, putting his biscuit on the desk. With the utmost concentration, he drew his wand, his mind embracing the concept of nothingness. 'Evanesco!'

Professor McGonagall jumped in surprise, looking at him with shock. 'That's a fourth year spell! The wandwork was flawless, too!'

'Yes, Professor,' said Harry with a pained little smile. 'But look.' He pointed at the biscuit. 'I first understood the mechanics and theory behind elementary vanishing spells when I was twelve. Several teachers have assured me there's nothing wrong with my concentration or the movements of my wand.'

He stood up, bowing towards the Transfiguration Mistress. 'But I've yet to vanish so much as a single crumb. Good day, Professor McGonagall.'

McGonagall stared with a frown of puzzlement at the biscuit. 'Good day,' she replied weakly, sounding puzzled.

Memory Lane

'He wrote the lines as fluently as you or I would have, Albus!' said Minerva McGonagall, walking circles into the carpet of Dumbledore's office. 'He didn't make a single mistake – not one mistake! It took me days to memorise all the equations, and he did it as if he were the teacher.'

'An impressive display of mnemonic prowess,' agreed Albus with a bit of a smile.

McGonagall almost snorted. 'It's a bit more than that. You should have seen it! The way he cast the spell, the way he directed his wand – it looked as if he'd tried vanishing objects for years and years.'

'And yet he failed. Maybe that is the extent of his talent?'

'What utter nonsense! I'm tempted to give him an E just for the formula he wrote on the board; it certainly exceeded my expectations!'

'Even Muggles could comprehend the theory, my dear Minerva. But understanding the mysteries of magic, I fear, does not make a witch or wizard. At some point, one has to be able to produce results, wouldn't you agree?'

'But his talents are so skewed! Can anyone really be the next Merlin in Charms and only manage to average between A and E in Transfiguration?! This is silly, Albus!'

'Unusual, certainly. But need I remind you that Lily did have a hand for Charms?'

'But her other marks weren't so far behind! It's almost as if someone, something meddled with his talents.' She stopped her pacing, looking with concern at her old colleague. 'The Blacks wouldn't … they wouldn't have … would they?'

Albus considered this for a second before he shook his head. 'I can't say with a certainty that such a spell or ritual exists – but even if … Knowing Arcturus Black as I do, I'm positive he wouldn't risk mentally scarring a member of his family for some obscure magical benefit. The Blacks praise cunning, intelligence, education, and freedom of mind above all else – they would have been more than happy to accept young Harry even without his intriguing talent with Charms. I always thought how remarkable it was that a family promoting the research of any kind of magic values wit far above magical potential.'

'They have their goons and brutes for heavy lifting,' said Snape, speaking for the first time from his usual place near the window.

McGonagall frowned. 'You almost sound like you're admiring them, Albus.'

'You mistake respect for admiration.'

'Respect?' repeated McGonagall, appalled.

'Indeed. For over a thousand years, the Blacks have considered themselves above any law but their own. For a thousand years, they've done as they please. For a thousand years, they have outmanoeuvred, outwitted, outlasted all of their opposition. I feel no need to adhere to or respect their way of life, but I have to respect them for what they are.'

'And what is that?'

Again, it was Snape who answered. 'The epitome of egocentricity – an example to us all as to what happens when one thinks of nothing except in terms of "us" and "them".'

Albus inclined his head. 'Any news about Rose, Severus?'

'None. None of my contacts were able to find anything. There is nothing about relatives, relationships, activities, hobbies … I haven't found a single picture of her – anywhere. There's not a single recording of her on Muggle security tapes either. It's not even like her files at the Ministry or ICW were destroyed; I assume they never existed in the first place.'

'Does this include the source we discussed?'

Snape nodded. 'The only thing we have is, well, it's hardly a trail. But there is one student about her age who disappeared after graduating from Durmstrang.'

'Indeed,' said Albus, his brow furrowing. 'And that was Miss Rose?'

' … I couldn't say, Headmaster.'

'Excuse me?' asked McGonagall. 'How could you not?!'

'The person attending apparently looked nothing like her, performed religiously average, and was registered under a name that might or might not have been fake. The trail of that person vanishes from the face of the Earth as soon as she took one step out of Durmstrang, and she hasn't been seen ever since.'

'Relatives?' asked Albus without much hope.

'None.'

'And did that person attend Durmstrang for the full duration of her education?'

'No, she only transferred for her NEWT equivalent, passing just barely. Kept to herself, the very image of a loner.'

'Has Kingsley researched the Muggle photographs we have of the late Blacks, Minerva?'

'Yes, Albus. And he told me that he couldn't find any special likeness – not that he could search more than one or two generations back with that detestable law still in effect.'

'I expected as much,' Albus admitted with an apologetic nod, 'given how close the resemblance is between most recent Blacks, excluding young Harry. But that is hardly proof – I know for a fact that Arcturus Black looked nothing like what I have concluded to most likely be his late brother. Any other evidence of a relationship with the Blacks?'

'None,' said McGonagall grimly. 'The things that tie her to the Blacks are Lord Black's push for her to teach at Hogwarts and her apparent friendship with young Harry.'

Albus hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. 'Severus?'

'Yes, Headmaster?'

'Did anything happen at Durmstrang during the stay of your mysterious student? Accidents, confrontations, blackmail, students dropping out, political shifts – anything at all?'

Snape consulted a little folder in his hand, sorting through the pages. 'Nothing noteworthy. There were a few thefts from the library, but they happen often enough whenever a particularly talented student passes through their last years. The Durmstrang board puts up with it as a … rite of passage.'

'Did anyone achieve special commendations two years preceding or following our mysterious nobody's stay?'

Again there was the shuffling of papers. 'No, Headmaster. The best person to graduate within a two-year-window became a Polish Auror, swearing the traditional oath of office. They wouldn't have taken someone confessing to stealing school property.'

Albus allowed himself to smile. 'What books did vanish?'

Snape's brow creased. 'A rather motley assortment. Fairy tales, books about myths and legends. Nothing worth more than a few dozen Galleons except one rare first edition of British children's stories.'

McGonagall scoffed. 'Just another juvenile prank, I should think!'

Albus Dumbledore felt his gaze being drawn to the wand that lay on his desk. 'A possibility, certainly.'

Memory Lane

'We're going to trounce Hufflepuff!' boasted Draco. 'They don't stand a chance!'

'I can't believe your father bought Firebolts for the entire team,' muttered Leo. 'Doesn't strike me as particularly fair. Some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws ride old Cleansweeps!'

'What's Quidditch got to do with fairness?' asked Draco. 'They have more students, we have better brooms. Seems good to me!'

'You better deliver though,' said Amy with a smirk that plainly told Harry she was about to enjoy her favourite pastime – torturing Draco.

'… Why?' said Draco hesitantly.

'I heard some Gryffindors claiming that you bought your way onto the team. If you were to actually lose …'

Draco, who'd always had a pale complexion, paled even further.

Harry gave him a companionable slap on the back. 'Well, good luck! I'm sure Professor Snape will be most agreeable should you fail to win after drawing so much ire against the team!'

If possible, Draco looked even more pallid than before. 'We'll be fine,' he muttered, shaking his head absent-mindedly. 'We just have to win. No problem … just the stupid Hufflepuffs.'

'They haven't lost in five matches,' said Amy with a wink at Harry, who grinned back at her.

'I SAID WE'LL BE FINE!' snapped Draco.

For a few minutes, they ate in silence. Harry and Amy were both trying not to snigger or catch each other's eye. Eventually, Tracey and Daphne arrived.

'Hey!' said Daphne as she sat down. 'Heard the latest? Apparently, Malfoy's bribed Snape with brooms so he'll make Seeker.'

'It wasn't a bribe, okay?!' hissed Draco, trembling furiously.

'Oh, it wasn't?' asked Daphne, looking honestly taken aback. 'You might want to tell that to all the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs over there,' she said, nodding towards an area where two different house teams sat in huddled groups, muttering and occasionally pointing in Draco's direction.

Tracey, however, seemed to feel some pity for Draco's plight. 'Come on, guys. I heard he won tryouts fair and square. Even should they lose, there's no way Higgs would've done any better.'

Draco came back alive, regaining a bit of his swagger. 'Exactly! Trounced him, I did.'

'See, at least you trounced somebody already. Nobody can take that from you,' said Harry cheerfully.

'By the way,' said Amy, 'have you given your recent … correspondence any more thought?'

Harry could practically feel the rest of his friends drawing near. With a sigh, he said, 'No, well, I have, but it's such a mess. I'm perfectly okay dismissing Remus' letter, but I don't know what to think about the other two.'

'Is there any way to find out more about their backgrounds?' asked Draco, looking pleased with the shift in topic. 'I've been thinking, isn't it kind of strange that they all seemed to know that the others were going to write to you? And that they all warned you not to trust the others? I mean Pettigrew explicitly asked you not to involve Dumbledore and the DMLE, heavily implying that included your cowardly werewolf uncle as well.'

'Not necessarily,' disagreed Harry. 'He didn't actually name any third party.'

'Maybe he's trying to account for things he doesn't know by staying vague?' suggested Tracey. 'You see that a lot with people who want to appear important.'

'Anyway,' continued Draco, sending mild glares at Tracey and Harry for interrupting what Harry assumed to be a well-rehearsed display of equal parts insight and narcissism, 'Sirius asked you, ostensibly, to stay away from the DMLE but suggested to get in contact with an old buddy who just so happens to be an Auror – or at the very least some regular law enforcement guy.'

'Shout his name a bit louder, won't you?' hissed Harry.

'If he's an old co-worker of James Potter, he should be an Auror though, right?' said Amy. 'I mean, Aurors won't mingle with the regular, old DMLE crowd unless it's some kind of Ministry event, don't you think?'

'Definitely,' said Tracey. 'Mum always goes on and on about it. She suspects they're using a Supersensory Charm to flounce with their noses stuck up high just so they won't trip over their own feet.'

Draco coughed importantly, lowering his voice. 'As I just said,' he continued, glaring once more at Tracey, who grinned unabashedly, 'your … uncle … also asked you not to involve your family. And then we have Lupin, who – if your memory indeed serves you right because you idiotically insisted on burning the letter to vent your resentment – just asked you to be careful, which could also be understood to mean that Lupin suspects some foul play.'

'Correct,' said Harry, willing to let Draco's dig pass – mostly because he didn't want to admit that he had a point.

'Your … uncle should, all things considered, be the least informed, having just escaped prison. I think it's curious that even he specifically warns you to stay away from the DMLE.'

'Really, Malfoy? He just escaped! Doesn't take a genius to figure out that he wouldn't be all too happy with the Ministry,' said Daphne with a snort.

'I still think it's curious that even Lupin didn't suggest that you go to Bones,' said Draco sourly.

'Is it though?' asked Leo. 'I mean, after everything that happened with Harry and the Ministry?'

'Fine!' snapped Draco. 'Thanks for all of that. I was just trying to help, you know?!'

'It's quite hilarious really,' said Amy, smirking at Draco's grumpy expression. 'They all seem to distrust one another. Weren't they best of friends once?'

'I suppose. I don't really know all that much about it, to be honest. I know they used to be really close in school but after that … Anyway, you lot would've given me the same advice, don't you think? Staying away from Bones seems like a good move no matter the situation. I also severely doubt that she's inclined to have a little chat with me or Grandfather about one of her subordinates, so there's no point in me inquiring. All I could find out about Pettigrew is that he's kind of a crook: theft, embezzlement, impersonation – malicious lingering.'

'Malicious lingering?' repeated Tracey with a snort. 'Is that Auror speech for "You lookin' at me, pal?"'

'How much does he ask for?' asked Leo. 'You've written to his contact, haven't you?'

'Two thousand for a meeting with his solicitor. Seventy-five all in all – half up front.'

Tracey whistled appreciatively.

'Merlin! This sounds like such a scam!' breathed Daphne, her voice hushed in the presence of a very … respectable sum of money.

'I'm not so sure,' said Amy with a shrug. 'Sure, it sounds asinine if you say it like that, but would you piss off Harry's family for just seventy-five thousand? I sure wouldn't.'

'If you put it like that,' admitted Daphne reluctantly.

'But are you sure Pettigrew has the brains to figure that one out?' asked Tracey.

'We'll see, won't we?' said Harry. 'I've agreed to a meeting with his solicitor for now. It's going to be this Hogsmeade weekend. I'll listen to him first, and then – maybe – arrange a quiet meeting with that Lazarus-fellow. We'll see. First the solicitor though.'

'Neat,' said Draco. 'We can eavesdrop.'

'I could just take you with me. You know, officially?' replied Harry with some amount of exasperation.

'Eavesdropping is much more fun,' commented Amy, grinning.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'I still think I shouldn't have this talk alone.' After a second of thought, he added, 'Daphne, want to come?'

She beamed at him. 'Sure! But, honestly, Tracey should come as well.'

'What! Me?!'

'Yes, you! You're a glib talker, and you don't lose your head as fast as me,' said Daphne.

'Hard to argue with that,' said Draco with a condescending smirk.

Daphne ignored him.

'Alright, that's it then. Harry, Tracey, and Daphne have their little meeting with the solicitor, and Amy, Draco, and I listen in,' said Leo, looking excited.

'What about Hermione?' asked Tracey.

'What about her?' countered Amy, frowning. 'She's got her Mudblood lessons, doesn't she? Oh, come to think of it, I think I'll be snooping around those instead.'

'Why do you all insist on snooping and spying,' said Harry, trying for reason once more. 'Couldn't you just ask her?!'

'But she's been kind of close-mouthed about it,' said Amy. 'I mean, I don't care at all about her, but aren't you curious who's teaching her? Could be quite a scandal, depending on their political allegiance.'

'Besides, all this spy-business is kind of neat, isn't it?' asked Daphne, grinning at Harry.

Tracey nodded. 'It's like we're a group of kick-ass ninjas! Fighting for power, battling mysterious teachers and greedy lawyers!'

Harry groaned. 'Not again!'

'What?! You know what a ninja is?!' asked Tracey, looking gobsmacked.

Harry waved his hand dismissively, ignoring Daphne, who was trembling with suppressed laughter. 'Let's not go there.'

But his friends were nothing if not hung up on little details. In the end, Daphne, to Harry's surprise, smoothed it over by explaining how she'd dragged Harry into a movie this summer, to the great amusement of Tracey, who kept teasing him with how she imagined Harry among all the Muggles, still wearing ridiculously colourful robes, fumbling for his wand at the sound of every explosion.

Daphne, too, didn't look too pleased, and she kept trying to portray their day in a grander way than he remembered; he couldn't, for example, for the life of him remember having to fight off Muggle muggers. Nevertheless, he was grateful that Daphne gave no hint that their outing into Muggle London might have been more than a jaunt with a friend.

When Draco and Tracey started another racket, Daphne gave him a warm smile, a smile Harry found himself returning almost automatically.

But his final rescue from bothersome topics came in the form of an owl. It was one of his family's, he noticed. It swooped across the hall, barking angrily at a few other, lesser owls that failed to make way in time before making an elegant landing on the candlestick holder, the gust of its approach extinguishing the flames.

The big brown owl had always been a bit showy, but how could Harry not reward her with a few slices of bacon for such a spectacular landing?

'Here you go,' he said softly, offering his courier something to drink as well. 'And thank you.'

The owl hooted in a dignified sort of way before it took off again, almost knocking a small, white owl out of the air.

'Isn't she wonderful?' said Harry fondly.

'Kind of vicious if you ask me,' mumbled Tracey.

'She knows her worth.' Harry unrolled the small bundle he'd been delivered. 'Oh, it's tomorrow's Prophet.'

'Neat,' said Draco, not sounding very interested.

'Anything important?' asked Leo.

'Hm, let's see. Strengthened voting block of conservatives spearheaded by Selwyn pressures Wizengamot, French Minister for Magic resigns, Karkaroff's fired another deputy – oh – and Tonks has been found in some room deep underneath the Ministry.'

Tracey's eyes bulged. 'WHAT?!'

'Er, are you sure, Harry?' asked Daphne cautiously.

'What? Oh, yeah. Says here "… found bound, gagged, and in a magical coma. Head Auror Longbottom personally confirmed to have questioned Junior Auror Tonks, who had been on leave for a special assignment with the ICW. Whether or not Auror Tonks' loss of memory is due to the volatile environment she was found in or the result of more sinister events remains to be seen."' Harry folded the newspaper, shrugging nonchalantly. 'Well, there you have it.'

Tracey looked at him as if he'd confessed to a passionate tryst with Dumbledore.

Daphne, too, was staring at him with a peculiar expression. 'Er, is everything alright, Harry?' she asked in a tone of compassion he found strange.

'Of course! Why wouldn't it be?'

'I mean … I mean you're okay with that?'

'With what?' he asked, feeling more and more confused.

'Tonks?' Tracey supplemented, looking more alarmed by the second.

'What? Oh, yeah, of course. I dare say she got quite lucky, but it seems it all worked out.'

'Lucky,' repeated Daphne weakly.

Harry nodded. 'But it's not like it bothers me much either way.'

'It doesn't?!' asked Draco, looking puzzled.

The siblings exchanged a short glance Harry failed to place.

'Why would it?' Harry continued. 'Stop acting so strange!'

'We're acting strange?' asked Tracey, goggling at him.

'Yeah!'

'Harry, I …' Daphne lowered her voice, nodding at Tracey who wiggled her wand twice before an invisible bubble engulfed them all. 'I know you're just pretending, but please cut it out. It's scary!'

'Pretending … what?'

'About Tonks?!' said Daphne, deliberately stressing the name. 'You know, heart-shaped face, likes strange colours for her hair, knows some queer jinxes. Nymphadora 'Don't call me that' Tonks – the woman you refused to even obliviate a few months back?!'

'Well, yes, that was a bit silly on my part, wasn't it? But why would I be much concerned?' he returned, starting to feel irritated with their strange reaction. 'Good for her to be found, I guess, but I just don't see how it's any of my business.'

Even Leo was staring now. Amy was watching him like someone hesitating to choose between brilliant and bonkers. Daphne and Tracey looked horrified. All the gaping made Harry wonder why they made such a big deal about some distant relative of his.