About half past seven, Tallulah, Parvati and Lavender joined their friends for breakfast at the Horned Serpent table. The usually-chatty Tallulah was strangely quiet, and barely touched her bacon and cheese breakfast quiche and puckerberry juice.

"What's wrong, Tallulah?" asked Othniel. "You usually talk the horns off a goat!"

Tallulah shook her head. "I didn't tell Lavender or Parvati to stay hydrated during our workout, and Lavender threw up and fainted! Missy chewed me out a good one; she basically said I really disappointed her… I really look up to her, y'know…"

Lavender put a hand on Tallulah's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Tallulah. I'm just not used to that sort of physical activity – even if I drank a liter of water I'd probably still pass out!"

"Tomorrow is calisthenics," said Othniel. "I prefer that over running… maybe you'll like that better?"

Parvati arched an eyebrow. "What exactly does that entail?"

Othniel shrugged. "Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, jumping jacks – anaerobic workouts that focus on certain muscle groups rather than cardio."

"I see… so the real question is, is it easier than sprints?" asked Lavender.

"For me it is, at least," admitted Othniel. "Some people prefer running. Harry's pretty good at that."

Tallulah was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable with the topic at hand, so she made a desperate attempt to change it. "So, are you guys coming to class with us today?"

Daphne and Hermione nodded fervently, while Parvati sighed a nonchalant "I guess so".

"We have Herbology and History this morning, and then Defense after lunch," explained Tallulah. "Tomorrow we have Potions and Transfiguration, and then Charms in the afternoon. We would have Astronomy this Friday evening, but we have the spring dance."

"History is a total drag," moaned Daphne. "We have this dopey old ghost that teaches it – Professor Binns – and he never fails to put half the class to sleep." Even Hermione nodded in agreement.

Othniel pounded the table with his fist as he guffawed. "I've got to see that. In all seriousness, History might be my favorite class. Professor Esposito gives us charmed snacks to help us stay awake because she knows it can be a bit dull at times, but even without the snacks she makes it interesting. She does funny voices for some of the historical figures, and gives us little rhymes or acronyms to help us remember things too."

"You're a lucky bloke," Daphne said with a pout.

Othniel pointed at Daphne's uniform. "Is that the only uniform you guys wear? You don't have golf shirts or anything?"

Daphne shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid this is our only uniform. I'd love to wear something like what you're wearing today, but I wouldn't even know where to begin to look."

"D'you wanna ask Missy for some loaners?" suggested Harry. "She's on the opposite end of the table… you've got a bit of time to change."

Daphne chewed on her lip. "I would, but I think Professor McGonagall expects us to wear these itchy mothball-drenched things all week. She told us we're representing Hogwarts, and I think she does make a fair point…"

"I can ask Missy for some loaners later," offered Ana. "Even if you're not allowed to wear them during the day, I'm sure your house head wouldn't be opposed to letting you wear them for a photo."

"Speaking of," chimed in Hermione as she dug into her robe pocket, "check this out, Harry." She giggled softly to herself as she handed Harry a moving photograph that was ostensibly taken at Hogwarts.

Harry's eyes widened. There were five grinning girls in Hogwarts robes; the first four he instantly recognized as his four guests – but was the fifth one Ana?

Hermione grinned at Harry. "Doesn't Anastasia look lovely in Gryffindor red and gold?"

Harry nodded. "It's almost as if she truly belongs there."

"You're a Hogwarts legacy, Harry," said Daphne. "Lots of people on the other side of the pond were absolutely stunned that you're not studying with us! In fact, most of them don't even know that you're attending Ilvermorny!" She smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone."

"Thanks," Harry replied with tiny smirk. His eyes shifted from side to side, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. "D'you know who Lucius Malfoy is? I met him in the Vancouver wizarding district a few months ago… he's a rather shady dude from Magical Britain…"

Daphne's face went sheet-white. "Omigod… Lucius Malfoy is very, very bad news… he has ties to the Dark Lord, you see. If he knows you're in North America, there's no telling who else might know…"

Harry hung his head. "I've… had some nightmares over the course of the term," he admitted. "Not all of them had Lord Voldemort in them, but a few of them did… those bad dreams weren't just frightening; they seemed so real…"

Daphne suddenly tensed up, and clapped a hand to Harry's mouth. "Harry, please don't say his name! You-Know-Who may have been defeated, but he's lurking around somewhere, just waiting for the right opportunity to return…" The poor girl looked shaken to her core, and Harry just sat there and blinked. His neurons kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out something comforting to tell her.

"I'm sorry," sighed Harry. "I didn't mean to offend you. You'll have to remember that I didn't grow up in Wizarding Britain."

"You're right," admitted Daphne. "I keep forgetting you're Canadian, and aren't all that familiar with British wizarding culture yet." She gave him another friendly smile. "Truth be told, your upbringing in North America was probably a blessing."

The sudden squeaking of chairs and sounds of plodding footsteps put a halt to their conversation. "Other than the topic of your nightmares, I've had a wonderful time talking with you this morning," Daphne said as she stood to her feet. "Now, even after the tour Missy gave us, I'm still not comfortable navigating your castle, so I hope you don't mind if I follow you to class today?"

Harry chuckled. "I don't mind, Daphne. I promise it doesn't take that long to get used to the layout. Herbology is up first – it's taught by my house head, Professor Frye. It's not the most fascinating subject in the world, but I like it all right. Professor Frye is a pretty reasonable lady – she doesn't put up with much nonsense, but she's one of the fairest instructors we have. She doesn't give her Serpents any preferential treatment."

"Professor McGonagall is a lot like that," Daphne said with a nod. "She takes her position as a faculty member very seriously – she may be a Gryffindor, but she rarely goes out of her way to reward her students. If anything, she tends to make examples out of those who step out of line – she often doubles the number of points lost when a Gryffindor breaks rules."

"At Ilvermorny, teachers issue demerits instead of deducting points," explained Harry. "Every five demerits means detention."

"Hunh," replied Daphne. "That's rather different. By the by, have you gotten detention before? I've narrowly escaped it a couple of months back… I got into a bit of an argument with a couple of Slytherin students in our Great Hall, and their house head took ten points from my house but didn't lift a finger to discipline his own. He threatened to give me detention if we met again under the same circumstances." She shook her head in dismay.

Harry's cheeks flashed a deep pink. "Erm, yeah… once. Back in September, I took off on a broomstick without permission, but I only did it to defend my friend Tallulah. These three big Thunderbirds teased her for the amulet she was wearing, and the ringleader just took it from her and flung it as far as he could, so I did the only thing I could… I summoned the broom and retrieved it. Not only did I get detention from it, but I also got stung by some Hobgoblin's Scourge thorns. I had to take a really sour potion so I wouldn't get splotches all over my body. Oh, and this is our classroom! I'll see if maybe Tallulah wouldn't be opposed to sitting with your roommates today, assuming you want to sit up front with me and Othniel?"

"Thank you," Daphne squeaked appreciatively. "I think I'd like that."

Before they knew it, Friday afternoon rolled around. As soon as the final bell rang, the first and second year students quickly retreated to their dormitories to ge themselves ready for the much-anticipated spring dance. Harry cleaned himself up as best he could, though he couldn't fully tame his notoriously-wild dark hair. He had laid out a powder-blue dress shirt, navy polka-dotted bowtie, black suspenders and matching trousers, while Othniel simply opted for his formal school uniform.

"Lookin' sharp there, Harry," remarked Othniel as he buttoned up his sweater vest. "I wish I brought something like that for the dance."

"I highly doubt you'll be the only person in formal robes," Harry said thoughtfully. "Besides, you've put a lot more effort into your appearance lately. You won't disappoint Tallulah."

"I hope not," sighed Othniel. "I've also promised a dance with that Granger girl… I know Tallulah said she didn't mind, but I still can't help but feel like a two-timing jerk…"

"I get where you're coming from," agreed Harry, "but try not to over-think things. If anything, we'll royally tick off Ana and Tallulah if we don't dance with Daphne and Hermione, respectively." He let out a soft chuckle. "It wasn't that long ago I was opposed to the thought of dancing with anyone but Ana, but Daphne turned to be wicked cool. I'm kinda looking forward to having a dance or two with her… no, I don't feel the same way about her the way that I do about Ana, but she'd be an awesome friend to have. She genuinely likes me for me, and not because I'm the so-called 'Boy-Who-Lived'."

Othniel checked the clock on the wall. "It's just about five thirty – you about ready to head downstairs for some grub?"

When the boys took their seats at the table in the Mess Hall, their jaws dropped when they saw Ana and Tallulah. Ana was in a spaghetti-strap lavender knee-length dress and black ballet-style flats, and her hair was put up in a soft updo. Tallulah wore a navy floral-print dress and white sandals, and her hair was done up in a double Dutch-style braid.

"Wow, Tallulah," gasped Othniel. "You actually styled your hair this time! It looks great…"

Tallulah giggled. "No, I didn't style my hair, you goober. Missy did."

"Regardless, it's a good look for you," Harry replied with a shrug.

Tallulah's cheeks turned a rosy pink. "Well, thanks, you two. And you both look plumb handsome."

"And you look awesome, Ana," Harry added. "Did Missy help you with your hair too?"

Ana flashed her signature smile. "Thanks, Harry. She did – I asked her for something different. She asked me how I felt about wearing my hair up… I was a little skeptical at first, but it did turn out rather nicely, if you don't mind me saying so…" She tilted her head toward the entrance of the Great Hall. "Missy's almost done with dolling up Daphne and Hermione. They'll be down here any minute."

It wasn't long before the two Gryffindor girls found their seats next to Ana. Daphne wore a flowy golden gown with simple matching flats; her flaxen hair was done up in twin round braids that were reminiscent of Princess Leia. Hermione, on the other hand, looked a bit like a 1940s librarian, with her hair done up in a ballerina-style bun. She wore a lilac sweater, black skirt, opaque tights and black Mary Jane flats.

"Hey Daphne, hey Hermione," Harry greeted. "You two look pretty this evening."

"Thank you Harry," squeaked Daphne. "Parvati and Lavender are still upstairs; they're supposed to be joining Jeremy and Quentin for dinner."

"Would you expect anything different from them? Merlin knows, those two take forever getting ready," giggled Hermione. "And thank you, Harry. You look quite dashing yourself."

Othniel groaned. "Seriously, am I the only one that isn't wearing personal clothes this evening?"

Ana leaned forward, laughing. "Othniel, it's okay! You might be the only one in our immediate area in uniform, but I've seen several boys and girls wearing their formal robes tonight. You look just fine, honest!"

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Ana's right, you know. You look perfectly dapper, Othniel – I promise I'm not going to be ashamed to have a dance with you this evening!"

Tallulah smiled and pointed a thumb at Hermione. "Yeah, what she said."

Even Nova stopped by to complement the younger students. "You lot look wonderful," she remarked. "Let me guess… Missy charmed your hair?"

"Didn't she do a fantastic job?" replied Daphne. "Ana's right, Missy knows what she's doing when it comes to hair charms."

Nova nodded. "In all likelihood, I'll seek Missy out in a couple of weeks for my upcoming spring dance." She beamed at the boys. "If they'd let me, I'd have a dance with each of you tonight… you both look smashing." She gave both Harry and Othniel a friendly chuck on the shoulder. "Knock 'em dead tonight, boys."

At six thirty, Professor Fontaine stood to make an announcement: "May I have everyone's attention please? The spring dance for first and second year students is set to commence at eight o'clock this evening. I'll need everyone to vacate the dining facility at six forty five in preparation for this event. Those who wish to attend tonight's festivities may return at seven thirty. Refreshments will be provided throughout the event, and a dongle band – Manaburn – has been invited to play from an approved set list. Be advised – Mister Floyd will be performing a wand check upon entry. If he – or any other faculty member – finds a student with a wand on their person, that student will be asked to leave for the remainder of the event. That is all I have, thank you."

At seven thirty, the Mess Hall was once again open for business, but the décor made the dining facility all but unrecognizable to Harry and his friends. It looked so much bigger now that all the long tables had been removed, and replaced with a handful of smaller tables with punch bowls, cookies, cake slices, and finger foods. In the far corner stood a quartet of young men wearing outrageous hairstyles – the frontman had a barbwire tattoo on his left bicep and had his buzzcut dyed purple, while the drummer – the lone female of the outfit – sported an unnaturally-tall black mohawk. The bassist's head was shaved but had a long blonde goatee, and the guitarist had the closest thing to mainstream, as he sported a hairstyle and attire that strongly evoked vintage Eddie Vedder. It was apparent that none of them were magical, as they were using conventional instruments as opposed to enchanted ones, and the occasional sound of static sputtered from the speakers as they tuned their instruments.

A prominent disco ball hung from the ceiling, and trees, birds, flowers, and other such symbols of springtime decorated the perimeter. Once Mister Floyd allowed Harry and his friends entry after ensuring their wands were not on their person, he directed them to the sidelines and wait for the dance to kick off.

At eight o'clock, Manaburn got things going with a rousing rendition of Rebel Yell. Othniel even found his groove on the dance floor to the amusement of most of his friends, though Tallulah clapped a palm to her face, shaking her head in complete embarrassment.

Ana even nudged Harry gently. "Go on, you can't leave poor Othniel hanging by himself out there." Harry shrugged and began goofing around on the floor with his roommate. Ana, Daphne and Hermione giggled in amusement, while Tallulah again shook her head in exasperation. Not you too, Harry, she thought to herself.

After a couple of fast-paced songs, Manaburn slowed things down with Take My Breath Away. Harry, ever the little gentleman, looked into Ana's eyes as he asked, "Anastasia, may I please have this dance?" Ana just smiled in return, and offered her hand. He led her to the dance floor, and at that moment, all those hours he spent with Nova in the choir room practicing finally began to pay off. He put his hands just above her waist, while she put hers on his shoulders, and the two swayed to the beat.

Meanwhile, Othniel was on the floor with Tallulah. "Y'know something, Othniel?" Tallulah whispered. "You're a bona fide mess, but you can hold your own on the dance floor. I'll give you that."

"Thanks," Othniel whispered back. "You're a pretty good dance partner yourself." He sighed. "I still wish I had a suit or something… I might not be the only kid in formal robes tonight, but I still feel a little silly."

"There's no need to feel silly," Tallulah assured her friend. "You look perfectly handsome."

Othniel grinned. "Thanks. And you look pretty in dark blue. It's a good color for you." He couldn't help but chuckle. "It was either formal robes, or my Hawaiian shirt and flip flops. Something told me you'd probably prefer this."

A tiny giggle escaped Tallulah's lips. "Well thank you, Othniel. And yes, you made the right choice."

Daphne simply observed her four Ilvermorny friends on the floor as the song went on. Toward the end of the song, she leaned toward Hermione and whispered in her ear. "Both Harry and Othniel can hold their own on the dance floor, that's for sure."

Hermione nodded. "I dance like I have two left feet – I don't want Othniel to think I'm a total klutz!"

Manaburn then played a few more energetic songs – Harry and Othniel even did some headbanging during Blitzkrieg Bop.

Harry and Othniel brought their American partners out for the next slow song, the Carpenters' Superstar. Toward the end of the song, Ana began to sniffle. "This song gets to me every time," she whispered to Harry.

Once the song had finished, Mister Floyd stepped on to the middle of the dance floor. "All right, all right. Is everybody having a good time so far this evening?" A loud round of cheers and applause ensued. "Now that's what I'm talking about… we're going to take a quick ten minute intermission, and we'll pick things back up at nine o'clock. Be sure to dispose of your empty cups and plates in the appropriate receptacles if you're leaving the area."

After the intermission ended, Manaburn began playing another fast-paced song, but then went with the old standard Stand By Me. Again, Harry and Othniel took their American partners on the dance floor. "Let Daphne have the next song, Harry," Ana whispered in his ear as they made their way to the floor. "She's been waiting very patiently." Harry smiled and nodded.

It was at that moment that Flynn Replogle's date had enough of his boorish behavior, and left him on the dance floor. Humiliated, he needed to find a replacement date, and quickly. He spotted Daphne and Hermione by themselves on the opposite side of the floor, and smirked to himself as he advanced on his quarry.

He unceremoniously grabbed Daphne by the wrist, and began pulling her to the floor. "Dance with me," he said.

Daphne just scoffed at the brute. "No thank you."

"Dance with me," Replogle repeated, somewhat more forcefully.

"What part of 'no' do you not understand?" Daphne shot back. She gestured toward Hermione. "And don't even think of asking my friend here. She's not interested, either. Do us both a solid, and buzz off."

"I'm not going to be humiliated by some arrogant Limey," Replogle growled. "You will get on the floor with me, or else."

Smack! Daphne landed a hard slap across Replogle's cheek, which only succeeded in infuriating the hulking lad.

Harry, who had just begun to see what the commotion was all about, politely excused himself from Ana. "It's Daphne – she's in trouble! I gotta bail her out."

Ana sighed. "The situation's even worse than you think – she's being harrassed by Replogle. If you're going to help her, please be careful. I don't want you to get a black eye."

"I'd rather get a black eye, than to see that ugly skunk-ape lay a finger on her," Harry whispered. "I'll be as careful as I can. I'll be back shortly."

Just as Replogle looked like he was about to strangle the poor girl, Harry tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey man, she already told you 'no'. You need to respect that."

Replogle whirled around to face Harry and nearly doubled over in laugher. "Oh, it's you again, pipsqueak. Always butting in other people's business. I'll tell you what… if you turn around and walk away, I'll pretend this never happened."

Harry shook his head with firm conviction. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Replogle. You can flatten me all you want, but you're not going to lay a finger on my friend."

Replogle bared his teeth in fury. "I'm not going to tell you again, pipsqueak. Turn around, and walk away… if you know what's good for you."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and his mouth contorted into a most unnatural shape… a soft, sibilant language came out of his mouth that shook Replogle to his core. [You have no idea what connections I have. You have no idea what I'm capable of. I can make it where you simply vanish without a trace, and that your body is never found. I can make it where your whole family loses all of its wealth and influence. I speak the truth, so I implore you not to test me.]

Replogle's eyes widened. "What the hell did you just say?" There was nothing sarcastic or glowering about his tone – if anything, it sounded apprehensive and even fearful.

Harry looked at his rival, unmoved. "You heard me. I swear I'm not messing around."

Replogle shook his head in disbelief – although Harry wasn't about to outwardly show it, he had to admit he took a certain amount of pleasure in seeing genuine fear in the bully's countenance. "No… just, stay away from me!" With that, he turned heel, and fled the mess hall.

Harry extended a hand toward the trembling Daphne. "Hi Daphne," he said softly. "Replogle won't bother you again – you have my word. Would you like to join me for a dance?"

Daphne, who was so shaken that she was fighting tears at this point, smiled at Harry, and gratefully took his hand. "Thank you so much, Harry. You truly saved the day." She let out a soft giggle. "I'd be delighted to dance with you."

Harry gently placed his hands on her waist, while she put her hands on his shoulders, and the two swayed to and fro for the remainder of the song. When the song was over, the friends made their way to the sidelines. Daphne then surreptitiously planted a smooch on Harry's cheek. "Seriously, Harry. Thank you for getting me out of that nasty mess," she whispered. She then cocked her head, and gave him a rather puzzled-looking expression. "Were you speaking to him… in Parseltongue?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah… I actually never spoke to a human before in Parseltongue, though I did communicate with a Typhon several months ago in one of my, erm, adventures. That's another story for another time." He shrugged. "I wasn't sure if it was going to work tonight or not, but I'm glad it scared him enough to leave you alone!"

"Not many humans can speak it," replied Daphne. "It's usually a trait associated with a certain lineage, though to my knowledge, very few of your family members were related to the Gaunts – or even housed in Slytherin. If I had to guess, it's part of what made you the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry smiled and nodded. "That's what Professor Fontaine told me earlier this term. Vol – err, the Dark Lord left his mark on me, which also meant giving me the gift of speaking to serpents, though not on purpose."

It was past eleven when Harry and his friends decided to go upstairs and call it a night. Harry had to admit that he found Daphne's company equally as pleasant as Ana's, and his friends were thoroughly impressed that he was able to get Replogle to scram without resorting to physicality or magic.

They chit-chatted for a while in the common room, before wishing each other a pleasant evening. The following day would be Saturday, the Gryffindors' last full day at Ilvermorny before they had to return to Scotland.

Harry and Othniel quickly got into their pajamas and into their beds, but it was well past midnight before they could fall asleep.