Miserable & Mouldy
"So, any ideas on what happened last night?"
Right now, Ron was sitting across from Harry and Hermione in the Great Hall. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, so there was no rush to finish breakfast to catch an early carriage, something Ron was quite happy with. At the moment, the Hall was mostly filled with students, the events of last night forcing everyone to either sleep in or catch barely a wink of sleep. Crouch's murder had led to the school being placed in lockdown, with the students being confined to their dormitories as the Aurors conducted a sweep of the castle and grounds, searching for evidence relating to Crouch's demise.
"If they found anything, it's not in the Prophet. There's a front-page article about Crouch's death, but no details are offered. They practically gloss over it." Hermione reviewed the day's paper as she said this, hoping to find some clue relating to Crouch, something Amelia might have neglected to mention last night. So far, no such luck.
"You'd think the death of a Ministry Head of Department would get more attention."
Ron shrugged in response to Harry's words. "Probably because of Fudge. Doesn't want anyone talking about the death of an old rival."
"Wait, what? Old rival? What are you talking about?"
"Oh, some stuff I remember overhearing from my dad. He says Crouch was a candidate for the Minister post when a family member was outed as a Death Eater. Tanked his credibility, and Dumbledore didn't want the job, so Fudge, the third-best candidate, got the job."
"Who was the family member?" Hermione's curiosity was piqued.
"Barty Crouch. Junior." Neville, seated close by, had overheard their conversation and spoke up so suddenly that it drew the attention of those nearby. "He was caught alongside Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodolphus, and his brother Rabastan. The four of them were responsible for torturing my parents at the end of the War. They were all sentenced to life in Azkaban...but he died in prison not long after."
There was just a hint of bitterness in Neville's voice, as though angry the man had escaped the Dementors through death. In a way, Harry couldn't blame him. When he decided to spare Pettigrew that night, he had done so, not just to keep his father's friends from both being labelled as murderers, but because he felt death was an escape. He didn't want Peter to escape from justice by dying. He wanted the bastard to face the music, to answer for his crimes.
He knew better now. When the opportunity came, he wasn't letting the rat escape. Dead or alive, he'd bring back proof.
"Neville, I...I'm so sorry."
"It's alright Hermione. I'm just glad he can't hurt anyone anymore."
"Still..."
"Neville, do you want to join us in my training sessions?"
Neville looked at Harry with a start. "Huh?"
"Weekends I do training to prepare for the Tournament. Since Fudge won't cancel it, I have to keep training, and it might help take your mind off of Crouch."
"S-sure, I'd love to."
"Awesome. We'll show you after breakfast. It sounds like Andromeda has something special planned for today."
Walking through London, Remus felt a sense of peace. A strange thing, considering he was not only a werewolf, but he was accompanied by an Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black. Of course, perhaps what gave him his sense of peace was the simple fact that none of this was known to any of the people they passed by. There was little to no chance of people recognizing him as the former DADA professor, outed as a werewolf a year ago. Sirius was currently in his animagus form, and thus to everyone they passed, they saw only a modest-looking man walking an abnormally large dog.
Of course, any leashes or collars were only illusions, thanks to some cleverly cast charms. That, of course, didn't stop roughly a dozen children insisting to their parents they be allowed to pet the massive, yet overly friendly dog. If Remus didn't know any better, he'd swear that Sirius was doing this on purpose, trying to slow them down as they approached their destination.
In a way, he didn't blame him. They were heading to a place that had more than its fair share of bad memories for him. Going back would be like reliving those memories, and considering what kind of memories they were, Remus couldn't blame him for wanting to stay away. But they had to go. They needed to know whether it was usable, what condition it was in, and worst case scenario, what could they salvage from it.
But finally, they arrived. Grimmauld Place, a street in London's Borough of Islington. The houses were numbered as one would expect, and Remus counted as they passed Number 9... Number 10... and as they passed Number 11, it popped into view. Number 12, the number that was, to the surrounding neighbours, missing due to an error during construction. None of them ever realized a family of wizards was living among them.
That, of course, was no doubt for the better, not only because of the tumultuous history between the magical and the non-magical but because the Black Family thrived on the Dark Arts. Entire generations of the family had been devoted to advancing the 'cause' of the pure-bloods and wizarding supremacy. Looking at the front of the house, Remus could easily believe that not only was this a place for Dark Wizards, but that evil dwelt within, and that same evil was spreading to the other houses, many of which had broken windows, poorly maintained fronts, and even piles of rubbish in some spots.
This wasn't a cheery place, and it showed.
Stepping past the ward line, Remus scanned the area, before casting some privacy charms. He then turned to Sirius, speaking quietly as a further precaution. "We should be clear, you can turn back now."
With that as his cue, Sirius changed back from a massive black dog to a human with black hair and beard, and slightly worn robes. Between Andromeda securing him fresh robes to wear, and Harry's elf friend, Dobby, providing a steady supply of food, he looked and felt better than he had in ages. He still didn't have a wand and could use a proper shower, rather than standing in the rain as a dog. Fortunately, Remus had cast some charms for that, so now he only smelled like a dog, as opposed to smelling like a mangy mutt that had been living in a cave.
Baby steps, and all that.
"Wow."
"Feels weird?"
"Yeah..."
"Take whatever time you need."
"Thanks but...wow. I never imagined it would be like this..."
"That feeling of going home again?"
"Huh?"
"Well, I mean, this is the home you grew up in, it's natural for it to feel weird returning after all this time."
"Oh, no, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm surprised because this place looks even crappier than I remember."
Remus could only facepalm at that, fighting the urge to snicker like a teenager like Sirius.
"Come on Padfoot, let's get this over with."
Approaching the door, the men braced themselves as they opened it, revealing a long hallway with lamps and a large chandelier. On one side they could see a doorway that led to what Sirius knew to be the dining room. At the end of the hall, facing the door, was a grand staircase leading to the upper floors of the house. Even from here, Remus could see some of the shrunken house-elf heads, mounted on the wall, like trophies from a big game hunter. Sirius had mentioned them, a tradition started by one of his more depraved relatives, but he never quite believed it.
At one time, this might have been a grand entryway, but now, it was gloomy and decrepit, filled with cobwebs, with the wallpaper peeling, and the mouldy carpet worn thin. This wasn't a home. It was a crypt that people had been living in.
"Wow."
"Yeah, like I said, even crappier than I remember."
"So this is your training room?"
Neville looked about the room in amazement. Over the school year, Harry and his friends had made excellent use of the old classroom, and they had left their marks on it, quite literally. Several walls bore scorch marks, and indentations caused by a Severing Charm, with even chunks taken out of the walls due to a missed Bombarda or Piercing Curse. It was obvious to anyone who looked about that Harry's success in the Tournament came down to his brutal training regimen. It left Neville's head spinning as he imagined the effort that Harry had gone to.
"Yeah, it's a little rough after all of our casting, but it's paid off for me."
"And...you want me to train with you?"
"Of course. If nothing else, it'll keep your mind off of Crouch Senior and Junior."
"Besides," Hermione said, "a little extra practice never hurt anyone."
Harry smiled at her. Hermione's dedication to being the very best in school never faded, no matter the subject. While both she and Ron had accompanied him to these training sessions often enough, only Hermione tried to remain at Harry's level, even if she faltered at times. Ron would practice until he could perform the spell, but he rarely put in the same kind of effort, unless it was a spell he thought was cool or useful in his daily life. Hermione was dedicated as a matter of principle.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. The group turned to it, expecting to see Andromeda stepping inside, and she did. But she was accompanied by Cedric Diggory, Professor Sprout, and Professor Flitwick.
"Ah, good, you're here...and Neville, are you here to join in Harry's training?"
"If-if you'll have me."
Andy smiled warmly. "Of course. Now then, before we get started, I'm sure you'd like an explanation?"
"Not that I don't want to win, but why did you bring me and Professor Sprout here?" Cedric had taken up a spot next to the group as Andromeda moved to the front of the class with Flitwick and Sprout. "I thought you were focused on training Harry?"
"I still am, but there's more to it than that. Cedric, I'm sure you're aware of Crouch Senior's murder last night?"
"Of course. It's all anyone could talk about at breakfast."
"What the Prophet didn't mention was that Crouch had been under the Imperius Curse for several months. Before the Tournament was even announced. While we're not certain, we're confident that Crouch entered Harry while under the Imperius Curse. Him or whoever murdered him."
Cedric's mouth hung open in shock as he processed this information, but Andromeda pressed on.
"Despite this, and the fact that Madam Bones is confident Harry's participation is part of an assassination plot, our fearless Minister Fudge has decided to continue the Tournament as normal. Because of this, there's a good chance that you, and the other Champions, are in as much danger as Harry here. To that end, I've discussed it with Filius and Pomona, and they both agree with me. From now until the Third Task, you both will be receiving duelling training from Filius during the weekend, immediately after breakfast. Depending on how well you do, that training will continue after lunch, or you might be let off for the day. If you want to visit Hogsmeade, talk with him to set up an extra day for training. This is not negotiable. For either of you."
"What about the rest of us?" Ron raised his hand, as though in class. "Or the other Champions?"
"You three can join in the lessons as you wish. However, as Andromeda has stated, my priority is Mr.Potter and Mr.Diggory here, so if you fall behind, you'll have to practice on your own time." Filius spoke with even greater authority than he did in class. It almost felt like he was hyping himself up to be a drill sergeant.
"As for the others, Madame Maxime has decided to personally train Fleur, given her Veela nature. As for Krum, I'm not sure. Durmstrang does teach the Dark Arts, compared to Hogwarts which teaches Defence, but more than that, I'm hesitant to interact with Karkaroff. That skeevy bastard makes my skin crawl." Andromeda interjected while rubbing her arms in discomfort at the thought of dealing with Karkaroff.
"I know what you mean. We saw him last night."
Andromeda's head snapped in Harry's direction. "What? When?"
"When we were on our way to meet you in the Headmaster's office. He was talking with Snivellus about the Dark Mark."
Cedric snickered at the nickname for the greasy dungeon bat. Even among the Puffs, Snape wasn't a popular teacher. Likewise, even the normally timid Neville found it humorous. Even Professor Flitwick snorted at the nickname, as did Professor Sprout, despite knowing they shouldn't. Andromeda, on the other hand, merely rolled her eyes.
"He was supposed to be with his students on the Durmstrang ship. Ugh. Did he say anything, or do anything?"
"Just tried, and failed, at looking scary while he stormed off. After he left, the greasy dungeon bat had words for us."
"What did he say?" Andromeda leaned in as she spoke. While he may not be as bad as Karkaroff, Andromeda wouldn't pretend to like or trust Snape. If he tried pulling something with Harry, all bets were off.
"He accused us of stealing from his personal stores, and threatened to dose Harry with Veritaserum," Ron spoke bluntly, only disliking Snivellus slightly less than Harry. But his words drew an animated reaction from the teachers.
"HE WHAT!?" Neither Flitwick nor Sprout could believe Snape would make such a careless threat. But Andromeda was furious. Grabbing her wand, she made for the door.
"THAT'S IT! I'm dealing with him NOW!"
"Andromeda, wait!"
"Don't try and stop me Filus! Nobody threatens my ward and gets to brag about it!"
"Just please, wait!" Filius cast a Leg-Locker Curse on Andromeda, causing the woman to shoot him a dirty glare as she balanced herself against a wall. But Filius ignored it as he turned to Harry and his friends. "Why exactly did Snape think any of you was responsible?"
"To be precise, Professor Flitwick, he accused him of stealing gillyweed for the Tournament, and the ingredients for a Polyjuice Potion." Hermione remained level-headed, even as the adults lost their composure.
"I bought the gillyweed I used. I even have the receipt for it in my trunk."
"I believe you, Harry. Besides, if Snape had any proof you were behind the missing ingredients, he'd have already informed the Headmaster." Filius remained calm, easing the tension in the room as he spoke.
"Filius, can you let me go?"
"Are you going to go storming off again?"
Andromeda stared at Filius as he spoke. Filius stared right back. The little contest between them was held for a few seconds before Andromeda sighed in defeat.
"Fine. I'll behave. But Harry, if Snape threatens you again, don't hesitate to let me know."
"Understood."
"Now then, since that's all been taken care of," Filius summoned some training dummies, "It's time to get started."
Every step into Sirius' childhood home gave Remus an even greater feeling that he would need a shower. Every surface was coated in a thick layer of dust, so much so that Remus feared he would suffocate at times. The windows were so caked in grime that not only was barely any light let in, but just looking at them made Remus' skin crawl. On a whim, he opened a dresser near the dining room and found spiders the size of saucers had taken up residence.
"Bloody hell man, I thought your family had house elves. Shouldn't they have kept this place clean?"
"Well, we had the one house-elf. Given how bad the house has gotten, I assume he's either dead, or he's been too busy following Cissy's orders. Which...is a problem now that I think about it."
"I thought the Malfoy's had their own house-elves?"
"They do, but Kreacher, the wretched little beast, is bound to serve the House of Black. Though technically a Malfoy now, Narcissa was born a Black, so he'd probably still answer her summons."
"Could you disown her? Would that keep him from obeying her?"
"If I was the Lord, sure, but I'm not sure I can. My mother disowned me when I ran away. Told me as much that night she tried taking me from Potter Manor."
"Oh, I remember that. Merlin, that woman was unpleasant. She had guts though, standing up to Charlus like that."
"Heh. That was as close to motherly affection I ever got from her, even before I got sorted into Gryffindor."
Suddenly, a loud shriek could be heard from the landing behind the men as they ascended the first set of stairs to the second floor. Whipping their heads around, they were treated to the unique sight of a portrait in place of the moth-eaten velvet curtains they had just passed. More importantly, it was the portrait of a familiar old woman, with silver hair, and a black cap. A woman who recognized Sirius.
"YOU! Putrid blood-traitor FILTH! Dishonourable stain on the House of Black! Get out! OUT!"
The two men rushed forward, each grabbing one of the curtains, and struggling to close them as the woman kept ranting. Finally, the curtains gave way, sliding back into place and muffling the vile portrait.
"Was-was that your-"
"Yep."
The two men looked at each other, before bursting out into a fit of laughter. As they walked away, they resumed their talk.
"Seems like Mum got lonely with Dad and Reg gone."
"Talking to yourself is considered a sign of madness."
"Strange that she would have the portrait focus on her ugly side. Then again, every side of her was ugly."
"Oh I don't know, I think it captured her best features."
"And those are?"
"I don't know. I'll come up with something."
"You're almost there Neville."
Hermione's encouragement was often the deciding factor in Harry's mastery of various spells. In particular, the warm Hermy hugs she gave as a reward were an excellent source of motivation. But even with Hermione's warmth and encouragement, Neville was struggling to get the latest spell done.
At the moment, Sprout and Andromeda were attempting to teach Bombarda to the group, while Harry and Cedric underwent mock duels with Filius. The man was part goblin, but in his heart, he was fully a warrior, and he put the boys through their paces and pushed them as hard as he could.
Then, just to prove a point, he'd push harder.
"I-I know. I-I'm trying my best."
Despite being a Gryffindor, not a Hufflepuff, Sprout wasn't afraid or ashamed to admit that Neville was one of her favourite students. The boy was gentle by nature and had a deep love of Herbology. But he always seemed to struggle with his spellwork. Because of this, Sprout was willing to let Neville sit this spell out, but Andromeda had other ideas.
"Neville, if it's alright, I'd like to try something. I think it'll help."
"You-you think so?"
"I do. It was a trick my parents used when teaching me and my sisters. If it doesn't help you, then you can sit this spell out."
"OK, if...if you think it'll help."
Nodding, Andromeda turned to one of the dummies the group had been practicing on. The magic within them meant that any attacks that broke their bodies would be repaired in seconds. A handy feature when training to use spells like Bombarda and Confringo. Flicking her wrist, she transfigured the dummy Neville was facing... into a perfect copy of her demented sister, Bellatrix. A copy that began cackling. Before it could say anything, or Sprout could voice her disapproval of whatever Andromeda was trying, Neville cast the spell.
"BOMBARDA!"
The explosion was deafening, forcing everyone in the room, including Harry and Cedric, to cover their ears to block out the ringing sound. Pieces of the dummy scattered about the room, and as the smoke cleared, Andromeda saw the dummy had been completely shattered. Nothing remained of where 'Bellatrix' once stood. Before anyone could comment on Neville's startling display, the dummy reformed, and 'Bellatrix' was back.
"HAHAHAHA! Awww, is poor ickle Neville scared?"
"BOMBARDA!"
Again the spell was cast, causing a deafening explosion. But Neville didn't stop, and began casting the spell over, and over, and over again. Until Hermione instinctively cast a Stunner, dropping him to the floor.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?"
"Like I said, Pomona, a trick my parents used on me and my sisters." She flicked her wrist at the dummy again, causing it to morph back to its original form.
"WHAT THE HELL WERE THEY TEACHING YOU TO USE!? THE UNFORGIVABLES!?"
"No, just some basic curses." She then cast Rennervate bringing Neville back as he looked about in confusion.
"What-what happened?"
"You got the spell, Neville. But you got carried away."
"Carried aw- wait! Bellatrix! Did she-?"
"It was just some Transfiguration, Neville, see?" Andy pointed him towards the dummy he'd been attacking, and he indeed saw the old dummy.
"Oh...right...sorry."
"Don't be. I'm impressed by how much power you put into that spell. Which raises the question of why you had so little luck before?" Filius had stepped away from Harry and Cedric, both of whom were still in shock from seeing Neville's fury.
"I-I don't know. It just...came naturally, I guess. My wand, it...it didn't fight me on this one."
"Wait, Neville, didn't you get a proper wand from Ollivanders?" Sprout had regained her composure, and blinked in surprise at hearing Neville's wand was fighting him.
"N-no, it...it's my father's wand."
"God dammit Augusta." Andromeda sighed as she cursed. "Alright, Neville, come with me. We're going to go find McGonagall."
"W-why?" Neville followed her as she made proud strides towards the door.
"Because I'm going to yell at your grandmother and I'd like her to back me up."
When the pair disappeared out the door, silence dominated the room. Nobody moved from where they stood, everyone watching the door as though expecting one or both of them to come back as part of some elaborate prank. Some semblance of normalcy returned as Flitwick cleared his throat.
"Right then, everyone, let's get back to it. Cedric, Harry, I want to see some silent casting from you."
As they reached the second floor, Remus held in his disgust. The upper floors weren't much better, with the same disgustingly grimy windows and mouldy cupboards. Every inch of this place seemed coated in signs of filth and decay. It was difficult to imagine anyone, let alone a family of haughty pure-bloods, living in this place for an extended period. The fact generations of Sirius' branch of the Black family were raised here lent to his disbelief.
"I can't decide whether to be impressed the house is still standing or disturbed that it even got this bad."
"Well, I have to give my forefathers credit where it's due, they set this place up to last."
Passing the various rooms, Sirius found one that he focused on and immediately stepped inside. Quickly casting a Lumos, Remus took in the sight of the room. It was dusty as any other, containing the smell of mould and decay. Along the back wall, there stood a desk that still appeared impressive, despite the obscene amount of dust caking it, complete with the Black family crest emblazoned above it. The left-hand side held a fireplace, one that Remus doubted could be used without risking the safety of the entire street. The right-hand side, however, was lined with bookcases and display cabinets, the glass too dirty to be seen through. Sirius ignored the rest of the room and honed in on the bookcases, the one closest to the door.
"Looking for some light reading?"
"Not quite. Now, let me focus... hmm, if I remember right, it was fourth from the top... right-hand side... ah! here we go!"
Sirius had triggered something, as the bookcase slowly swung backwards, revealing a hidden room. Taking a look, Remus saw that it was impressive in size, clearly having been built with Expansion Charms. If Remus had to guess, there was probably enough room for everyone who lived in the house to take up residence.
"A panic room?"
"Not quite. The Blacks were slow to do business with Gringotts. They didn't like the idea of their wealth being in the hands of 'creatures' like the goblins. Eventually, they realized the benefits given how rich the other families were becoming, but until then, every Black residence included a room like this to act as a personal vault. Only now, instead of being used for our money, they're used for personal effects, like clothes, books, and..." Sirius looked at the various chests, trunks and cabinets, before finally settling on one chest, opening it with a flourish, "Black family legacy wands."
The chest opened and expanded, creating a large display featuring dozens of wands, all labelled with the names of their original owner and the materials used.
"Bloody hell, how many wands are there?"
"Plenty. Every Black that was raised in this house would have their wands placed in here when they died. Unless they were the Lord Black, then the wand would either be buried with them, or kept in Black Manor. Now then, if I remember right, this one was the one Dad had me training with."
Sirius grabbed a rather unique-looking wand, with a rectangular handle, as well as runes and symbols carved into the wood. Sirius gave it a flick and seemed satisfied with the resulting sparks.
"Not as good as my original, but this will do until the trial."
"Alright, so what's the plan then? Do you want to start cleaning this place out now? Or try to find Kreacher so he can get started?"
"As far as that little beast goes, I'll worry about him later. Technically, if you're right and I wasn't disinherited by Grandpa Arcturus, then he should have presented himself to me when we arrived. For now, I think I'll stick to the woods near Hogsmeade. This place is a doxy paradise, but I'd rather stay close to Hogwarts in case something else happens."
"You're talking about Crouch's murder?"
"Yeah, something about this whole thing just stinks to me."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, think about it, Barty was an Auror before he became Head of the DMLE, and he had training for high-stress situations and Occlumency. Why would he risk going to Hogwarts, instead of one of his friends, or even an old safehouse, especially when he knows that whoever Peter's working with is watching Hogwarts? Even assuming he wasn't completely in the head, there had to have been a dozen or so places he could have considered first."
"Maybe they were compromised because of his time under Imperius."
"Even so, he wasn't a stupid man. Much as I dislike him for his part in sending me to Azkaban, he didn't become DMLE Head for no reason, he was a man who got results. Something about this just doesn't add up. There's something we're missing here, and it's starting to worry me."
"Excellent work, everyone! I think now would be a perfect time to break for lunch!"
Flitwick spoke with the same energy and enthusiasm he displayed in class, though nobody in the room shared in it, least of all Harry and Cedric. Both of them had just gotten a crash course in what it means to face a World Champion Duellist. But despite their lack of energy and extensive muscle pain, they were both able to muster the strength to follow the man out of the room, along with the rest of the group, with a smug-looking Pomona pulling up the rear.
"Ahh, Miss Lovegood, good to see you today. And with Miss Greengrass and Davis."
The Greengrass heiress curtseied to Professor Flitwick, while Tracey simply nodded in his direction. Luna, however, smiled at her Head of House.
"Hello Professor Flitwick."
"I admit, I never expected to see you spending time with them. Not that I disapprove, it's merely a curiosity."
"Daphne and Tracey are fun to be around, and they don't call me Loony."
The entire hall went silent as the grave at Luna's words. For a few seconds, this silence dominated the hall, until Filius spoke in a surprisingly calm tone.
"Do other students call you Loony?"
"A few, I suppose. Cho doesn't, and she seems to get upset when the Nargles get involved."
"The Nargles?"
"Yes," Luna moved her robes, just enough to let everyone see her bare feet. "The Nargles like to steal my shoes and socks, and sometimes my books too. Cho gets upset when she finds them throughout the school."
The air became unimaginably cold, and yet Filius appeared to be perfectly calm.
"Well, let's go talk to her about those Nargles then, shall we?"
With that, Filius led the girl away, happily skipping along beside the diminutive professor.
"I almost feel bad for the other Ravenclaws." Tracey broke the silence, voicing what the others were thinking.
"How long do you suppose the bullying's been going on for?" Hermione's curiosity was matched by her concern.
"Far too long." Daphne turned her attention back to the group, Pomona having left while the students were staring. "I trust you lot are doing well."
"Cedric and I just finished some training. What about you two?"
"The library. Tracey was looking for 'inspiration' for making Malfoy miserable, and Luna found us as we left. Strange girl, but she at least distracted Tracey from Quidditch talk."
"Hey just because you don't like the Cannons doesn't mean I have to pretend to hate the sport."
"Tracey, they haven't won a single game in over a decade. Even the points they score are pity points."
"Hey, they won the League Cup ten times in a row. You don't do that unless you've got a bloody good team."
Before the argument could escalate, Ron interjected, focusing on the most important aspect of the conversation.
"You're a Cannons fan too??"
"Oh dear, we should give them some space."
Harry's words had the desired effect, as Cedric took off in a separate direction, while Daphne chose to accompany Harry and Hermione, leaving Ron and Tracey to bond over a newly discovered shared love for the worst team in the league.
"Well, that was surreal." Hermione blinked as she spoke.
"I can't help but wonder if Luna meant to meet Professor Flitwick, or she meant for Ron and Tracey to learn about their shared team spirit." Daphne looked back at the two Cannons fans, both of whom were oblivious to the rest of the world, lost in their discussion on plays, points, and other statistics.
"Let's just say, 'Yes' and leave it at that."
"Whatever you say, Harry. Now, I'm going to the Slytherin dorms first, so, enjoy the rest of your day you two."
With that, Daphne took off on her own, leaving Harry and Hermione walking hand in hand through the school.
"Well, that was quite the training session."
"Indeed, Harry. Between Neville's wand and Luna's timing, I think this was the most eventful training session you've ever had."
"True, though I just realized something."
"What?"
"Professor Flitwick never said anything about continuing after lunch, so we've got the rest of the day to ourselves."
Hermione blushed. "Oh? And did you have something in mind, Mr.Potter?"
Harry leaned in, kissing her cheek. "I was thinking I should spend the day with my beautiful girlfriend, spoiling her as thanks for standing by me through all of this."
Hermione turned to return the kiss. "That sounds lovely."
As they kissed, Harry heard an unmistakable voice in his head.
"Sire, I believe there is something we need to discuss concerning the vision you had at the start of this Tournament. We'll need to return to the training room at night."
"RRAAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHH!!! WORMTAIL! THE POTION!"
Voldemort could hear his cowardly minion rushing to fulfill his orders. But that did little to soothe his boundless anger and hate for the so-called Boy-Who-Lived.
'AARRRGGH! NOT AGAIN! My body risks falling apart before the ritual even takes place! ARGH! I need a contingency! Something that I can - AAGGH! - Something I can use to keep the boy in line! I can't send Wormtail out, not with these pains... ARGH! Dammit all! I need to contact Junior. It's risky, but I'm running out of options.'
"RRRRRAAAAUUUUGGGGHHH!"