A/N: I have been a little inconsistent in my handling of horcruxes in this series. To be clear, Dumbledore did tell McGonagall and Snape (and Amelia Bones) about them after the end of the Book 2 reading, and he identified the diary and Nagini to them.

And ugh, I've sitting on this chapter for the past year, and I finally dragged it across the finish line. The next few chapters should go quickly, and we'll see what happens with the next reaction chapter.

Interlude I: The Half-Blood Prince, Day 3

Percy Weasley was having a rough month—well, a rough year, really. He was nearly fired from the Ministry when his boss, Barty Crouch, died under suspicious circumstances on his watch. Or maybe not so suspicious circumstances, now. Oh, Percy wasn't involved at all. Mr. Crouch had shockingly been killed by his own son (who was supposed to be dead himself). That was the one thing Fudge and Dumbledore had agreed upon. But Percy had missed the signs of the suspicious goings on around Mr. Crouch—his sudden illness, his erratic behaviour. He'd been so excited to be given the extra responsibility that he hadn't asked questions that he probably should have.

So, he was investigated after Mr. Crouch died, and he was sure he was going to get sacked, but then Minister Fudge threw him a lifeline—a promotion, even! Junior Assistant to the Minister! He'd been so excited that he Apparated home to tell his folks straight away, and then things fell completely apart again. Dad accused Fudge of using him. Accused Percy of working for the enemy. Accused him of spying on his own family. And Percy, well, he didn't like to think about the things he'd told Dad that day. He'd started out trying to say Fudge didn't have any reason to spy on his family, hadn't asked him to spy on his family, didn't think his family was even worth spying on! But it had spiralled from there, and a lot of things he'd kept bottled up came spilling out that he'd known the moment he said them weren't fair, but by then, the damage was done. He'd walked out, and his pride wouldn't let him look back. Mum wanted him to come home, of course, but he couldn't bear to face Dad again, and he was ashamed to say he wasn't sure if Dad wanted him back while he was "spying" on them.

Percy shook his head. He could see now how blind he'd been, and for the same damn reason as before. He'd been so grateful to Minister Fudge for saving his job that he completely bought into everything the man said and didn't question the holes in his story. Fudge's sudden change in behaviour, his paranoia that Dumbledore was after his job when he'd previously relied on him—hell, even having Barty Crouch Jr. Kissed instead of questioning him, and then refusing to accept Dumbledore's report of questioning him. It was such a radical change that he should have asked questions, but he didn't.

The sad thing was that Fudge really hadn't asked Percy to spy on his family, nor implied anything of the sort. Maybe he would have done if he'd stayed at home, but Fudge certainly hadn't tried to persuade him to go back. He was pretty sure Fudge really didn't think Dad was worth spying on. Harry Potter he did want to spy on, but he didn't ask Percy to do it once he left. He hadn't so much as seen the boy except at his hearing, up until the book reading. And Harry…

Despite appearances, Percy hadn't disliked Harry, except for the potential threat he posed to his family. In fact, he'd felt sorry for the boy. He'd thought at the time that if Fudge was using him, then Dumbledore was definitely using Harry. The boy was clearly unbalanced, traumatised even before Diggory's death (though Percy hadn't know at the time, he'd even been made to sleep in a cupboard), and probably delusional. And Dumbledore wasn't giving him the help he needed, but was instead using him as a pawn.

Yes, it all made perfect sense to Percy at the time…except that it was all a load of dragon dung, and if he'd stopped to question Fudge at any point in the past year, he might have figured that out. He should have figured it out when Fudge had called him up to Hogwarts for his—if he were being honest—completely harebrained scheme to sack Dumbledore with a public book reading of all things. And that…well, it couldn't very well have gone much worse. Now, Fudge was dead—whether by You-Know-Who's hand or Lucius Malfoy's acting on his own they still weren't sure. Either way, You-Know-Who was back, like Dumbledore was saying all along. Harry…well, he still needed help, Percy was sure, but most if not all of the stuff he said was probably true. And as for Percy himself, he was sure he was about to be sacked again. In fact, he was pretty sure the only reason he hadn't been sacked already was that they had no one to replace him. With Fudge dead, Umbridge going to Azkaban, and Dumbledore, Amelia Bones, and Rufus Scrimgeour all too busy fighting You-Know-Who, he was the only person who knew how to keep the Minister's Office running.

The fact that they could spare him to come up to Hogwarts again for yet another harebrained public book reading was probably a bad sign, all things considered. And since he didn't have anything left to lose, he decided he wasn't going to make the same mistake a third time. He was going to apply some actual logic to the situation.

"Headmistress, I don't understand what the point is of these book readings," he told Professor McGonagall. "I don't doubt the value of the information in the books if it's accurate, but why spend weeks reading them aloud to the school?"

McGonagall sighed. "That is a question I have asked several times myself, Mr. Weasley," she said. "We do have our reasons, even though I don't fully agree with them. Have your parents told you the truth about Sirius Black?"

Percy flushed at the mention of his parents. He gathered that they'd told him about as much as they were allowed in those few weeks he was at home, but he didn't know how much more there was to it. "Not a lot, Professor," he said. "They told me they'd met him—and I did not tell Fudge about that—and Dumbledore vouched that he was innocent—and he hadn't tried to kill Harry when he had the chance, so there was no reason to doubt him." And the reason he hadn't taken it straight to the DMLE.

"All of that is true," she said. "Sirius is innocent. I have seen certain proof of it myself. We planned to continue the reading through the third book because it will reveal the full story in the greatest possible detail."

"I understand, but that still doesn't explain the public reading," he insisted.

"I know. But that was more Professor Dumbledore's decision than it was mine—and Potter's himself, which was the largest reason I went along with it. I'm sure Albus would wax poetic about the power of children's stories and the written word, and he might well be right about that. Potter seems to think it's the best way to get the word out to a large portion of our world quickly, and he might well be right, too. It is certainly a method that cannot be disrupted by the Ministry, the Daily Prophet, or You-Know-Who's forces. Our hope is that nearly everyone will believe in Sirius's innocence once this is over."

"And that's another thing, Professor. Why should anyone believe these books in the first place? I mean, books about Harry Potter's life that just seemed to come from nowhere? Looking back, I'm not even sure why Dolores thought people would believe her about them." He didn't quite catch McGonagall's scowl that he was on a first-name basis with that woman.

"I suspect that Dolores saw precisely what she wanted to see in these books and wouldn't hear a word to the contrary from that point onward," she scoffed. "Minister Fudge, I am sure, thought that his name would be enough for people to believe him. And I would be lying if I said we weren't hoping our names will be enough for people to believe us. As for why we believe them, they have stood up against every attempt to fact-check them that we have been able to make."

Percy sighed. "Alright, that's…something, I guess," he said. "But where did they come from? They don't even seem possible." McGonagall quirked an eyebrow at him but he pressed on. "Look, Professor, I got myself into the mess I'm in today by not questioning things when I should have for the past year and a half. It's past time I made a change. And frankly, I have a lot of things to question about these books—like who wrote them, and where did they get their information? Even laying aside that bit about Harry's dream in the first book, there's a lot of material in there that whoever wrote them could've only got from Harry himself, and some of it I'm not even certain about Harry. I need something more to go on."

McGonagall frowned thoughtfully. "I can sympathise with that, Mr Weasley," she said. "But please understand that there are some things I cannot tell you. Madam Bones is read in on them, so she can vouch for us. But it is safer if they do not spread any further. I hope you can trust us in that."

Percy grumbled, but he could understand the need for security. "I will be asking Madam Bones about that, but…fine," he said.

"Very good," she said. "Now, unless I'm much mistaken, Potter, Granger, and your youngest brother will be here soon, and if past readings are any indication, Miss Granger will have questions for you regarding the book."

Sure enough, the three fifth-years entered the Headmistress's Office a few minutes later. They stared at each other awkwardly. This was the first time he'd had the opportunity to properly talk to any of them since…

Since he'd left home last summer. Merlin, he hadn't even so much as acknowledged his family for Christmas, he was ashamed to remember.

"Percy," Ron said with a tone like ice water.

"Ronald," Percy replied uneasily. He nodded to the other two. "Harry. Hermione."

They sat down across from McGonagall's desk, Ron still glaring at him. The silence stretched as McGonagall seemed to want to let them say what they needed to say to each other rather than start the discussion about the books immediately.

Ron nor Harry seemed interested in talking either, so Percy took a deep breath and began, "Look, about that letter I sent you last autumn…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to interfere with your friends like that." Even based on what he had been thinking at the time, he should have been urging them to get Harry some help. And he'd been worried about Ron's career? As if Ron were…him?

"You called Umbridge a delightful woman!" Ron snapped.

"Yes…well…she tended to be if you stayed on her good side, but…well, that was ill-informed. And Harry, I was too harsh in judging you based on Minister Fudge's word. My reasons were…"

"You being the world's biggest git?" Ron cut in.

"…Yes, I was," he said before he could change his mind.

"And about what you said to Dad?" his little brother demanded.

"That too."

"And sending Mum back your Christmas jumper?"

Percy flushed redder than he already was. Even McGonagall turned and raised a stern eyebrow at him. She didn't say anything, but he could feel the judgement. "I…I'll…" he hesitated, and McGonagall kept up her stare. "I will be speaking with Mum and Dad directly," he decided. Honestly, he probably should have done that sooner.

Ron drew back. He actually looked surprised. Impressed? No, more like self-satisfied. He leaned back in his seat, folded his arms and said, "Glad that's sorted, then."

"Quite, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall spoke for the first time. "Now, I presume you had questions, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, quite a few of them, Professor," Hermione said. "But the most important ones are about the dementors. First of all, why did the Ministry station dementors to guard Hogwarts when Sirius had already got past them once before?"

Percy winced. "That," he said, "is something people were asking even at the time, including within the Ministry. I know how Dumbledore feels about them. As for why, well, I don't like to speak ill of the dead, but the simplest explanation is, 'It was Cornelius Fudge.'"

The three of them groaned, and Harry muttered, "It figures."

"I suppose I should have expected that," Hermione said. "Honestly, it was their behaviour that was more worrisome—like searching the train. Did they decide to do that on their own? And how did they stop the train in the first place?"

"I'm…afraid I don't know either of those things myself," he said. "We all know I was 'only' Head Boy that year, and I didn't look into it after I graduated. Why could be any number of reasons. It wouldn't surprise me if they were told to search the train, but someone failed to tell them where and when. Or it could have been entirely intentional, and they forgot to tell someone—or didn't want to tell someone in case it tipped off Black…although if he was on the train at the same time as Harry, we would have had larger problems, I think. How they did it, Professor Lupin might know, since he talked to the driver. Headmistress did he tell you at the time?"

"As I recall, the dementors simply stood on the track, forcing the driver to stop the train," she answered.

"Bloody hell," said Ron, and his friends looked equally shocked.

"What if it hadn't been able to stop?" Hermione said, growing a shade paler. "Trains need a long time to stop."

"That is unlikely, Miss Granger," McGonagall said. "The Hogwarts Express can stop in a shorter distance than muggle trains. And a good thing, too," she added, more to herself. "You saw at the end of that year what happens when the dementors' anger is provoked."

The students shivered, and Percy decided they should move on. "Was there anything else?" he asked.

"Er, just one thing," Hermione said. "Harry?"

"Right," he said, looking at Percy sharply. "Hearing it again, I thought it was odd. The dementors searched the whole train, but when that one came into our compartment, Remus had to chase it out with his Patronus. Do you think it might have been targeting me specifically?"

"Harry!" Percy said. "I assure you that the dementors are completely under the Ministry's control."

"Yeah, that's what Fudge said at my hearing."

Percy flinched. There it was again. He really needed to be more careful about that. He collected himself and told him, "I mean to say, the dementors follow the Ministry very reliably. Even the attack on you last summer I understand was…er directed at you by a rogue Ministry official." Dolores again, as horrifying as that was.

"So? We know there are Death Eaters with influence in the Ministry, like Lucius Malfoy. And besides, the dementors worked with Voldemort in the last war. Maybe they do what they're told, but one of them decided to finish the job with me when it was given a chance."

"I'm…" He hesitated. For the dementors to act out at all was a scary thought. They were so inhuman that people liked to think of them as not having wills of their own, but he'd seen with his own eyes in his last year in Hogwarts how fickle they could be. "Well, I don't think a dementor could identify you without being told who you are. They're blind, after all."

"Oh…right…" Harry said. He almost sounded disappointed.

"Still, it did sound a little odd," he assured him. "I'll pass it on to Madam Bones, just in case."

Minerva, for her part, also passed along Harry's question, though in her case, it was to Albus. Worryingly, he was contemplative when she asked about Potter's theory.

"I do not believe any Death Eater could have influenced the dementors to attack Harry on the train," he concluded. "None of them were close enough to the Minister's office to do so without being noticed. And Percy is correct that no dementor would have recognized Harry the first time they met him."

His tone was not comforting. "But…?" she ventured.

"Dementors may be blind, but they are not deaf. And too often, we ignore that they have their own agency. They are perhaps a dark reflection of House Elves in that regard. They surely heard from the prisoners in Azkaban about the boy who destroyed their one-time ally. And it is possible that they heard Harry's name when they searched the train."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "But not certain."

Albus shook his head: "Quite far from certain."

"You have another theory don't you?" he said.

"At least two, which are now moot regardless. The dementors do not take kindly to those who escape their clutches in any event, which Harry has now done twice. They will treat him as an enemy on his own merit should he encounter him again, so it matters little."

Minerva suppressed a groan. Of course Albus was being inscrutable again. Still, one thing she could be sure of was that if he didn't think it was important (at least for the war), it probably wasn't.

Still, they had more pressing matters to worry about. Even Potter didn't encounter dementors every day. Though she still ought to warn him, she decided. As if the boy didn't have enough to worry about. But for now, they had to continue their reading of next year's events. Merlin, that was never not going to be bizarre.

Chapter 15: The Unbreakable Vow

"I suppose it was too much to expect Malfoy to tell you what his plan was in Potter's hearing," Minerva told Severus when they finished the first chapter. "But for him to refuse to tell you at all out of pride is surprising."

"Not pride, I think," Severus replied. "Rather, desperation. As proud as Draco is—and I have no doubt he believes he can complete his mission—his quest for glory reads as a desire for greater clout with the Dark Lord to redeem his family. Though I also would not put it past Bellatrix to tell him I could not be trusted."

Minerva frowned. "What makes you so sure?"

"How cavalier Draco was about my own life, telling me to break my Vow. Potter was not wrong that his hostility toward me was out of character."

"Well, then," she said, "it still seems we haven't learnt anything new, except that we really ought to ban love potions."

"We did ban love potions in the book," Severus pointed out.

Her expression soured. "We banned the Weasleys' love potions, but point taken. I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that a dozen girls haven't been trying to steal Potter's affections already. Albus?" She motioned to the book, indicating the next chapter.

"A moment, Minerva," he said suspiciously cheerfully. "Just a brief note that I should drop by Xenophilius Lovegood and ask him what he knows about the Rotfang Conspiracy."

"Albus!" she gasped, while Severus sputtered. "You can't possibly believe that!"

"I find it highly unlike that Xenophilius has stumbled on a true conspiracy of gum disease," he said. "However, his daughter's words put me in mind just the slightest bit of that unfortunate business with 'R' a few years ago."

"Ah, Miss Khanna's death, of course," she said sadly. "And Dai Ryusaki's potion—but do you really think Xeno knows something?"

"In all likelihood, it is merely a coincidence. Yet if there is any man I could expect to have useful information and not know he did for five years, it would be Xenophilius Lovegood."

Minerva and Severus were both forced agree he had a point.

Chapter 16: A Very Frosty Christmas

There was silence for a minute after the next chapter. It was the first time since the beginning of the book—some six months in the story—that they saw clearly the prosecution of the war by the Ministry, and just as clearly, it was not going well. Grasping at straws, failing to capture actual Death Eaters, failing even more at recruiting the werewolves, and Scrimgeour looking to score political points just like Fudge.

"Do you think," Severus said, looking at Albus, "that it might be unwise to place Scrimgeour in the Minister's seat?"

Albus looked solemn, but he shook his head. "I think we have few options," he said. "Our best course of action is to ensure that Amelia Bones remains alive. With her running the DMLE, many of these problems can be avoided."

"And if that fails?" Minerva asked. "Against these options, I have to wonder if it would be time for you to take the job yourself."

Albus's response caught her unawares; he looked genuinely surprised. "Minerva, my answer to that is the same as it was in the last war, and in the war before that, for that matter. I would be thoroughly unsuited to the day-to-day operations at the Ministry."

She leaned back a little: "Very well, Albus. I merely thought…Anyway, there isn't much else actionable here. I found it interesting that Potter asked Remus about the 'Half-Blood Prince,' though he didn't recognise your name, Severus."

"As I told you, I did not use that name in public," he said.

"Of course. Though I was more interested that he didn't recognise Levicorpus as your spell. Come to think of it, nonverbal spells do not get passed around simply by overhearing. I assume you shared it with some of your fellow Slytherins?"

"That was not my spell, Minerva."

She nearly dropped her book in surprise. "It wasn't? But in the book—"

"If you recall from the previous book, James Potter cast that spell on me in our fifth year. I subsequently wrote it out in my sixth-year potions book, after several failed attempts…" He waited for that to sink in and concluded with some pride, "I reverse-engineered it."

"You reverse-engineered a nonverbal spell? While you were still a student?" she said in amazement.

"I had great motivation to do so."

Her face fell. "Ah, I see. Still, it was a very impressive feat. Either way, it did not lead Potter to identifying you, so you may take that as you wish." She flipped back a few more pages and considered. "Hm…"

"Yes?" he asked.

"Do you think," she said, looking up and giving Severus a knowing smile, "that Tonks might be attracted to Remus?"

Severus scowled. "I neither know nor care, Minerva. You are free to play matchmaker for our colleagues on your own time."

Chapter 17: A Sluggish Memory

"I take it that memory was the reason you recruited Horace?" Minerva asked.

"Indeed," Albus replied, "though I now suspect that it will be far easier to obtain the full memory from the book than to wheedle it out of the man."

"Assuming Potter is able to get it himself," Severus retorted. "I am forced to agree with Phineas Nigellus on that point. I see no reason why Potter should be able to do any better."

"On the contrary, I have every confidence in Harry," Albus insisted. "He is uniquely positioned to be one of Horace's favourites. More importantly, so was his mother. He can play on the man's sympathies far better than I."

"Horcruxes," Minerva breathed. "I take it the ring was one?" He nodded. "And Horace was the one who told him about them? Well, not the name, I suppose…"

"More than likely, Tom already knew about them at that point," Albus said. "Certainly, Horace would not tell him the details of how to make one if he even knew himself. Most unfortunately, the ritual was available to be read in the Restricted Section of the Library under Headmaster Dippet. I removed those books when I took the post, but by then, of course, the damage was done."

"Then why talk to Horace about them at all?" she said.

"That is what I wish to find out. Perhaps something to do with the consequences of making more than one. Whatever it was, I am more interested in what Horace heard than in what he said. It may be the final clue we need."

"We can only hope," she said. "So we know for sure that the ring is still out there."

"And the locket his mother wore," Severus added. "If he ever got it back. And Merlin knows how many more there are."

Minerva shuddered at the thought: "Oh, I do very much hope these books follow the usual conventions and actually have Harry win at the end. This is getting out of hand."

Chapter 18: Birthday Surprises

"Merlin's beard!" Minerva exclaimed. "Poisoned mead?"

"Evidently," said Severus.

"I was going to criticise you for writing off all those antidotes with a bezoar, but now, I can see your point."

"It is certainly the only sensible thing to do for any fast-acting poison," he agreed.

"So was that Malfoy's plan at work?" she asked. "If that mead was meant for you Albus…" She eyed Severus suspiciously once again.

Severus scoffed at her look. "I think we can all agree that Albus is one of the more likely targets for the Dark Lord's plans. However, depending on how Horace got it, it is entirely possible that whoever poisoned it meant it for him."

"True…" she said. "If Malfoy's mission was to kill Horace before you could get his memories, Albus, it nearly succeeded."

"Perhaps…" Albus mused, "although the necklace seems a poor fit to both Horace's tastes and my own."

"To kill multiple teachers, then? Unless he was telling the truth about not being involved with the necklace?"

Severus shook his head firmly: "Unlikely. While having multiple troublemakers in the school is depressingly normal, I know of no others who would resort to murder so easily in the current student body and are intelligent enough to be entrusted with it. Multiple targets are a possibility, but Draco's mission sounded more singular than that. In fact, given Sybill's drinking problems, she is the most obvious target who fits both attempts."

"I am doubtful that Voldemort would see Sybill as a threat," said Albus. "While it is possible she will give another prophecy, it is unlikely to be more significant to him than her first one. No, I rather suspect that Draco is simply making very weak attempts on his target's life. As desperate as you say he is, Severus, he is no murderer. He has neither the knowledge nor the ruthlessness to be an effective assassin, and I dare even suspect that a part of him does not want to do it."

"That still leaves the matter of his target, Albus," Minerva said. "If it is you…" She didn't look as Severus again, but the subtext was clear.

"I have some thoughts on that," Albus replied calmly. "I do not wish to voice them yet in case I am wrong, but I would ask you to reserve judgement until the plan comes to fruition."

Minerva took a deep breath. She didn't voice it, not yet, but she felt the story weighing on her. Part of her was even starting to think as Potter did, that they were all hanging a lot upon Albus's trust in Severus—although she did remember his Patronus. That was hard to reconcile with any other possibility.

And knowing Potter, he would stumble right into the middle of it. He was already spying on Draco with that map of his in the story. At least they would be able to head it off now.

She returned to her notes: "In the meantime, I may want to talk to Horace myself."

"About?" Severus asked.

"Love potions—specifically how he teaches them. I will admit the man has a healthy respect for the dangers they can pose, but I really don't think he's conveying it properly."

"Not that I object, but what specifically do you believe he should do?" Severus asked her.

She thought for a minute. Not brewing them. That would defeat her purpose. Yet not limiting it to showing them Amortentia either, and certainly they should be covered earlier than sixth year. Potter had fourth-year girls going after him. "I suppose the best course would be for him to add an antidote to love potions to the curriculum."

"Replacing some of the other antidote units?" he said.

"I don't see why not. It fits the theme. And regardless, the real goal would be to teach the students about the dangers of love potions. Certainly, Horace should warn them that the effects gets stronger with time, and that they may lead to—unwanted behaviour…All the more reason for a blanket ban," she added more to herself. She added another note. "And I do wish the Ministry would send someone for Apparition with more teaching skill than Twycross…"

She continued taking notes, but she was snapped out of her musing when Albus asked, "Do you wish to stop here, Minerva?"

"What?" She blinked, but… "No! Honestly, Albus! We simply must know how Mr. Weasley's situation resolves. Perhaps there are even some useful clues."

Albus only smiled and turned to the next page.

Chapter 19: Elf Tails

Minerva's relief that Ronald was slowly recovering was soon replaced with anger.

"I've half a mind to find an excuse to ban that McLaggen boy from the Quidditch team preemptively. Really! Leaving his post, trying to override the captain, knocking out his own Seeker when he wasn't even playing Beater?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "If we can't punish students for what they did in previous years, we certainly cannot punish them for future years," he said smoothly.

She shot him a look: "I haven't ruled out going after him for the doxy eggs. And don't think you're off the hook Severus. I wonder just what it was that you didn't want to do anymore."

He didn't flinch. "Would you like a list, Minerva?" he asked. "While I have come to respect you and most of the staff as colleagues, I never wanted to do any of this. I have done it out of duty, but I do have limits."

Minerva couldn't refute that. That was more between Severus and Albus, but she could see the signs—had seen the signs ever since they hired the man, if she were honest.

"Hm, it seems as if everyone is reaching their limits in the book," she admitted with a sign. "Hagrid and Filch fighting. House Elves fighting. And there was never real talk of closing the school in the last war."

"Hogwarts was never infiltrated so deeply in the last war," Severus pointed out. "Or rather, it was; I saw it daily. But the Dark Lord never sent a student on a mission in the school, and he had very little need of such."

"I suppose. And speaking of infiltration, I confess I've never thought much of the danger that House Elves could pose. Any student with their own House Elf could call them and send them on a mission like that, and they might not be as benevolent as Potter. Do we have measures in place to prevent that, Albus?"

"Of course, the simplest measure of all," Albus replied. "The Hogwarts Elves are alert and will intercept any suspicious behaviour. They will take note of an outside elf being called at all and immediately step in if that elf is ordered to do harm.

"I see. That's good to know. And I think that is enough for one night."

"Very well," Albus agreed. "Well will reconvene tomorrow evening."

Minerva took a deep breath as they wrapped up for the night and tried to think of happier things—what there were to be had these days. One thought in particular occurred to her as she reflected on the chapters. She would deny it to anyone who suggested it, but she found Miss Lovegood's Quidditch commentary to be quite entertaining. Oh, she couldn't use her in real life. They needed someone who could stay on topic. But it was entertaining.