Tragedy avoided

Harri was moved to sit next to Neville with Luna occupying his other side, more than happy with her seat arrangement. She hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to either of them lately. Cho tossed the book to Ernie who had offered to read next. 

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions.

“I told you cauldron bottoms were important,” Percy sniffed, gesturing towards the books.

“Are we sure it’s the cauldron bottom and not… Well just Neville?” Fred shot back before tacking on, “No offense, Neville.”

“Mr. Longbottom has done a fine job in my lessons with him,” Sprout said, coming to Neville’s defense. “I am sure there is more to the story that we are being told. Your brother is right, it very well could be faulty cauldron bottoms, which I, for one, think is the far more likely scenario after seeing Mr. Longbottom succeed at potion brewing so thoroughly.”

The tips of Neville’s ears turned red as he ducked his head at Sprout’s praise. Harri bumped her shoulder against Neville, happy to see her friend be complimented over his hard work. She couldn’t remember any other teachers other than Sprout or Remus ever actively trying to help Neville with his lack of confidence with school.

Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

“That’s a rather tame detention from Snape,” Fred voiced, remembering the many he had earned from the man. “It honestly doesn’t sound out of the ordinary.”

Harri shrugged, maybe Snape hadn’t been worse than usual and her patience to deal with the man was thinning. She was willing to believe he had been vindictive next year after they had helped Sirius escape. Harri would never forget how insane Snape had looked in that Shack, or when he came to scream at her when Sirius had escaped.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" said Ron to Harri as they watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

“I exist,” Harri said snidely. While she was willing to accept the Voices might be right and some part of Snape deep down did care about her wellbeing, the man had yet to prove any of that yet. He still continued to treat her as if she was her father’s ghost coming to haunt him from beyond the grave. 

Snape wanted to argue Potter’s point as the Voice once more threw her previous thoughts in his face. He had given the detention to Longbottom and there had been no mention of him doing anything against Potter herself. He was sure if he had done anything the girl didn’t agree with, it would be in these books. Books meant to make Potter look like some hero.

It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. 

Remus could admit he was curious as to why Snape wanted the Dark Arts job so bad. Severus Snape had worked at the school long enough to know the position was Cursed. Would have seen teacher after teacher come and go. Snape had to know if he took the position it would be his last year at Hogwarts. If the man hated teaching that badly, why not just quit?

Snape had disliked all of their previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody.

“The feeling is mutual,” Moody gruffed, his magical eye swerving to fixate on Snape.

Indeed, whenever Harri saw the two of them together - at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors - she had the distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

Severus was sure he had been avoiding the old coot. Alastor Moody had no doubt been insufferable from the moment he entered the castle. He knew Moody would know of his past, and knew the paranoid fool wouldn’t give him a moment of peace.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harri said thoughtfully.

“I assure you, Miss Potter, Alastor Moody does not frighten me,” Snape drawled. He had far bigger worries than a crippled if these books really did reveal Voldemort to be back. He would no doubt be putting his life in danger for Potter, not that the girl would ever be grateful for the sacrifices others made for her.

“You give her too little credit,” Lily’s voice sighed in the back of his mind.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," said Ron, his eyes misting over, "and bounced him all around his dungeon..."

Those brave enough to face Snape’s wrath all snickered at the mental image this provided. Harri was proud to see Neville chuckling beside her.

Draco shot Molly Weasley with a look of pure contempt. If he had been the one to have said something like that about Hagrid she would have scolded him over it, but she was going to let her son get away with it.

“We don’t wish harm on others,” Molly berated, as she felt Draco’s eyes on her. While these books had not painted a pretty picture of Professor Snape, if she was going to lecture one child she would lecture them all on the same behavior, despite her personal dislike of the man.

"Library." Harri finished her sentence for her. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."

What could she possibly be looking up, Hermione thought. The school year had barely begun and while she did spend a lot of time in the library she usually tried to make time for her friends better, and never ate so fast. What was so important?

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

They returned the books to their bags, Ron looking excited.

“Yes.”

“Sweet.”

“Practical lessons are the best.”

"Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

“You can write Moody but not me. That's nice,” Harri scoffed, folding her arms.

“It sounds like I was just informing him of each class's progress so he could teach you better,” Remus tried to reason. “Are you really going to hold something that hasn’t happened yet over my head this entire book?”

“I might,” Harri informed him stiffly. “There seems to be a lot of things you don’t do.”

“That’s…” Remus trailed off, unsure how he was supposed to make Harri see he was trying to do better. “I can’t fix what hasn’t happened yet, Harri. I don’t know what you want from me here.”

“I want you to do more,” Harri exclaimed before she sighed tiredly. “Just pay Fred what you owe, we'll discuss this more later.”

Remus handed over a knut confused when Fred continued to look at him expectantly. 

“You said it twice mate. You owe another Knut.”

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

“At least we have another good teacher for the year.”

“Thank Merlin.”

“Maybe we’ll actually pass our O.W.L.s at this rate.”

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago....Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledor....One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

Why him though, Moody thought. Was Dumbledore truly running out of teachers, or did the man know more he was letting on in these books. Did Dumbledore think the children, well Potter really, needed what he could offer that badly he was asking for favor to get him to leave his retirement. What did Dumbledore know that Potter didn’t?

Dumbledore thought that was a rather interesting way to get around the curse. He doubted he could lure more teachers in with promising no more than a year's worth of work though. The curse was well known and he was running out of people to fill the position. His candidates dwindled every year.

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re not going to do that?” Madam Bones sighed, ready for the next political nightmare to be revealed.

 I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better

Madam Bones pressed her lips together as the books showed Dumbledore’s willingness to go around the Ministry once more. Then allowing a teacher to tell students it was fine to ignore the Ministry guidelines. Even if Dumbledore thought the children needed to see these curses sooner rather than later, he should have gone through the correct channels.

McGonagall felt fear grip her heart. She remembered a different time when students were forced into accelerated programs and shown spells they should have had years to prepare for. If Dumbledore was pushing the children along in their studies, it could only mean one thing. War was on the horizon.

How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful.

“You all should be paying attention to what I’m saying in these books,” Moody growled his eyes moving along the students. “I wouldn’t be at Hogwarts teaching you if things weren’t about to get dicey in our world.”

 You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.

Hermione thought she could be forgiven to think her two roommates didn’t care about their grades when they did stuff like this. The fact Moody’s eye could see through wood didn’t sit right with her. Could it also see through the walls of Hogwarts and if so, how far? How much of their privacy would be invaded this school year? What if the eye could see through clothes, too? She sent a wary look over at Moody. Could he control what his eye saw through and when?

"So...do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

“You aren’t,” Remus gasped, looking over and Neville and Harri in worry.

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

“The bane of the Ministry’s existence,” Arthur shook his head, “During the war and after that curse plagued us. We couldn’t be sure who was under it and the trust at work was none existent. Nothing could be agreed upon during those times because you couldn’t trust your coworkers.”

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Harri felt Ron recoil slightly next to her - Ron hated spiders.

“Why’d it have to be spiders?” Ron moaned, wanting to cover his ears. 

“You faced Acromantula for me,” Hermione whispered next to him. “You can do this. What's a common house spider after that?”

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats..."

“Don’t you think that's a little harsh?” Sprout asked, afraid Moody might frighten the students.

“They need to know what they might have to face one day,” Moody waved her away. “If things are going where I think they are in these books they need to be prepared for the worst. Better not to sugar coat these things. It wouldn’t help them.”

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

“You can’t be suggesting using it on the students,” McGonagall cried.

“How else will they learn how to fight the curse?” Moody questioned, not backing down. “Better done in a classroom than when they're out in the real world being forced to commit murder against their will because no one bothered to show them how to fight.”

Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, to Harri’s slight surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

Sprout was filled with worry for young Neville Longbottom. This would not be a lesson that would be easy for the boy. All of the staff knew the fate of Alice and Frank Longbottom. She had always tried to look after Neville the best she could, despite the fact that he wasn’t one of her Badgers. She had been incredibly fond of both Alice and Frank when they had been in school.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

Neville went pale, was Moody going to show them the Cruciatus Curse too?

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

“That's taking things too far. You know what the boy has been through,” McGonagall cried on behalf of her lion. Longbottom didn’t deserve to be forced to watch this.

“He’ll have to face this fear eventually.”

Harri looked over at Neville, confused who had clammed up next to her. What did the Cruciatus curse have to do with him?

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly."

Harri looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harri, following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

Harri looked over at Neville again and noticed him much in the same state the books had described. 

“Come on,” she gently coaxed him out of his seat and out of the room. The rest of them could just wait to continue to read as far as she was concerned. Neville clearly needed a minute to deal with whatever was going on. Harri helped Nevile sit down on a beanbag the room had summoned for them.

“Do you need anything?” Harri asked, unsure how she could help Neville right now. “Do you want me to go get someone else?”

“Nobody else to get,” Neville said in a daze. “Gran wasn’t brought here with us.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harri questioned next, at a loss. 

“No,” Neville exclaimed panicked, his expression becoming guarded.

“Alright, we don’t have to talk about it,” Harri assured him with a hand on his shoulder to keep him seated when he looked ready to bolt. “We can just stay in here until you're ready to go back out. Or I can tell them you aren’t feeling well and to continue on without us.”

“Without us?” Neville questioned his face pinched.

“Yes, us. I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

Harri waited with Neville while he collected himself before escorting him back into the main room. She sent everyone a glare who looked at them questionably. They could all mind their own damn business. She had agreed to let them invade her privacy, not Neville’s.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse....That one was very popular once too.

Harri leaned into Neville in silent support. She didn’t know why this Curse bothered him so much but she was willing to stand by him through it. 

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.

“They didn’t need to see that. An explanation would have done the job,” Madam Bones expressed, displeased with this lesson as a whole. Her gaze had not left Neville Longbottom since she had realized what Curses would be shown. The poor boy looked traumatized. 

“They needed to see the consequences to these curses,” Moody argued.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and she’s sitting right in front of me."

Harri stared back as several gazes found her. While she didn’t like the gawking she’d much rather everyone paid attention to her than Neville right now. As uncomfortable as it made her, she, at least, was used to it.

So that was how her parents had died...exactly like that spider. Had they been unblemished and unmarked too? Had they simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from their bodies?

Harri ignored all the looks of pity she was given, grateful for the way Neville shifted trying to block her from everyone's view. Was that how her parents had died? At least it was quick right? The Curse wouldn’t have hurt and that brought her comfort.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other helplessly. What were they supposed to do here? Did Harri want their comfort? Remus sighed and thought screw it, sitting here doing nothing was what had Harri so at odds with him. Without thinking about it too much he rose and crossed the room to kneel in front of Harri.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Harri nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak. 

“Do you mind if I join you guys?”

Harri shook her head. She didn’t mind and the couch expanded giving Remus room to sit on her other side.

Harri had been picturing her parents' deaths over and over again for three years now, ever since she’d found out they had been murdered, ever since she’d found out what had happened that night: Wormtail had betrayed her parents' whereabouts to Voldemort, who had come to find them at their cottage. How Voldemort had killed Harri’s father first. How James Potter had tried to hold him off, while he shouted at his wife to take Harri and run...Voldemort had advanced on Lily Potter, told her to move aside so that he could kill Harri...how she had begged him to kill her instead, refused to stop shielding her daughter...and so Voldemort had murdered her too, before turning his wand on Harri....

Remus threw an arm around Harri pulling her into his side. What could he possibly say here? There were no magic words that were ever going to make this okay. Nothing he could say that would help make Harri feel any better about the loss of her parents.

Snape tuned the words out, wishing these books would stop mentioning Lily’s death and her refusal to step away.

“I wouldn’t have been the person you feel in love with if I had moved aside,” Lily’s voice whispered in the back of his mind. “Even if I had, it would have changed me into someone else entirely. You know that.”

“Did you want a moment?” Neville asked, just loud enough for her to hear. 

“No, I’ll be fine,” Harri shook her head. She had thirteen years to come to terms with the fact her parents were dead. It just threw her a little bit when light was shined on how they died or new information was given to her about them. Nobody was ever forthcoming with any of it.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

“Finally being sensible,” Madam Bones sniffed. If Dumbledore and Moody insisted the children need to know this far earlier than they ever should, the man could have at least gone about it better. Longbottom and Potter's stories weren’t a secret among the adults, and the children would be far too young to know about the trail.

"Now...those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills...copy this down...."

The children all looked around each other as they realized this might be what their lives were really headed towards. If Dumbledore felt as if this was a lesson they needed what was in store for them? What was going to happen to them all?

"Hurry up," she said tensely to Harri and Ron.

"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.

"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

“My entire life doesn’t revolve around the library. I am capable of pausing my pursuit of knowledge to be kind to someone in need,” Hermione snapped defensively. She wasn’t heartless. These books had shoved it in her face that she wasn’t always the nicest, but she did always try to be a good person.

“I’m sure I didn’t mean it like that,” Ron argued back, “I know you care about others, Hermione.”

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

Moody eyed Longbottom and wondered if his lesson really was for the best. Should he have pulled the child aside and spoken to him about what he was planning on doing? While he agreed, the boy needed to understand that others weren’t going to announce their use of the Curse or stop using it all together because it might upset him, he hadn’t meant to cause the boy this much grief. But moving on was a part of life.

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on...we can have a cup of tea...."

“So you can show compassion,” McGonagall said dryly. 

“It’d do no good to coddle the children,” Moody retorted, standing by his decision in these books. The children needed to be prepared for the worst. If another war really was in their future, he wasn’t going to send these children into it without knowing how to defend themselves from the lowest scum humanity had to offer. They would not die because he had failed to make them see the reality of what they were to face.

"You all right, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harri, almost defiantly.

“Heaven forbid that anyone ask you if you’re alright,” Ron snorted playfully.

Harri shrugged in return. The Dursleys asking her if she was alright had always been a trap. If she dared to complain they’d make her life worse than it already was, and if she said she was fine, they piled more chores on her.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harri. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending...well...come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

McGonagall eyed Moody warily. It sounded as if his counterpart was asking for Neville forgiveness for his lesson without coming out and saying it. Did the man truly regret what he must have put Neville through in that lesson?

Neville looked pleadingly at Harri, Ron, and Hermione, but they didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

“Thanks guys really appreciate the support,” Neville snarked, feeling betrayed. They had left him to the wolf.

“Sorry,” Harri winced, “But hey it hasn’t happened yet.” She shot Fred a look that said she’d pay him in a second. “If you really don’t want to have tea with the man, I’ll set something on fire or something and you can make a run for it.”

“I think fire might be a little much,” Neville shook his head. “Maybe just suggest we had plans.”

"Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harri asked as they approached the Fat Lady.

"Yeah, probably," said Ron. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later - look at his dustbins. Balderdash."

“They most certainly would get in trouble for it,” Madam Bones asserted. “As they should. You children clearly weren’t ready or mature enough to see them. If they insisted you needed to see them they could have prepared you better for them, not thrown you into the deep end and hoped you could swim.”

Harri followed Ron up to his roon so he could grab his books and charts, to find Neville there alone, sitting on his bed, reading. He looked a good deal calmer than at the end of Moody's lesson, though still not entirely normal. His eyes were rather red.

Neville squared his shoulders daring anyone to tease him for crying. He would fight them if he had to. 

Harri shot Draco a look and pulled her wand as discreetly as she could. She didn’t need Molly trying to stop her. If Draco so much as opened his mouth she’d shut it for him. Neville didn’t need any grief from him right now. She was proud to see Neville so ready to stand up for himself. She wasn’t going to let Malfoy ruin that.

"Oh yes," said Neville, "I'm fine, thanks. Just reading this book Professor Moody lent me..."

He held up the book: Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean.

"Apparently, Professor Sprout told Professor Moody I'm really good at Herbology," Neville said. There was a faint note of pride in his voice that Harri had rarely heard there before. "He thought I'd like this."

Pride filled Neville. He knew he wasn’t any good at any of his other classes but he loved Herbology. He was glad to hear he had impressed Professor Sprout and hadn't disappointed her the way he did his other teachers.

Telling Neville what Professor Sprout had said, Harri thought, had been a very tactful way of cheering Neville up, for Neville very rarely heard that he was good at anything. It was the sort of thing Professor Lupin would have done.

Remus was glad Harri was still using him as a measuring stick on what a teacher should do. While he and Harri had their issues, it was nice to see he had done something right in her eyes.

"You know," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

"What - make it up?"

"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

“Really, Ronald,” Molly scolded, unimpressed with her son.

“Well, it works.”

"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harri. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

“Don’t take your predictions so casually,” Lavender warned, crossing her arms. “Several of your other ones came true in the last book.” She pulled out a quill to write down the new ones. She wanted to see how many came true.

Ron rolled his eyes at her. He had made those ones up too.

"Right," said Harri, crumpling up her first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay...on Monday, I will be in danger of - er - burns."

"Yeah, you will be," said Ron darkly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I'll...erm..."

“There will be burns alright,” the Voice chimed in cryptically, “just not the way you seem to think.”

"Lose a treasured possession," said Harri, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas.

“You should be more careful with the things you care about,” the Voice whispered in Harri’s head. “You really could lose them all in this book.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.”

"Good one," said Ron, copying it down. "Because of...erm...Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"

“Friends, you mean,” the Voice sighed dramatically. “For we all know Harri sure does know how to misguidedly place her trust in others without much thought.”

“Hey!”

"Yeah...cool..." said Harri, scribbling it down, "because...Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight."

“Shouldn’t be starting fights before you know what you're fighting for,” the Voice sang.

Ron and Harri shared looks. Was all of these things really going to happen? Or was the Voice just messing with them? Harri didn’t think the Voices would mess with her like that, though. They seemed like the only people who wanted to help her without an ulterior motive. They didn’t seem to want anything from her in return. 

They continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to them, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Harri, rather as Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly.

“You’ve trained your cat to judge us in your absence!”

“I did not!”

Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune he hadn't yet used, Harri saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy center of attention. 

Molly eyed her boys suspiciously. If the twins were being quiet only chaos could be waiting.Those boys were only quiet when they were plotting their next big prank. She wondered what it would be this time.

She had thought then that it was another order form for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but it didn't look like that this time; if it had been, they would surely have let Lee Jordan in on the joke. She wondered whether it had anything to do with entering the Triwizard Tournament.

“Nosy,” George gasped. “We could have just been doing homework.”

Harri gave him a look that said she clearly didn’t believe that.

“We could have been,” Fred jumped in grinning at her. “Or do you think we don’t do our work too?”

“I know you do your work,” Harri huffed. “But I’ll bet you a Galleon you two are up to something in these books.”

“We aren’t taking that bet.”

Then George looked over and saw Harri watching him. Harri grinned and quickly returned to her predictions - she didn't want George to think she was eavesdropping. 

“Too late for that,” George snorted as he shook his head at her.

Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.

Fred wondered what they could be doing if Lee wasn’t involved and they didn’t want Harri to know. If it was about the joke shop they wouldn’t have cared if Harri overheard them planning. He couldn’t think of anything he or George would have cared about either of them knowing.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

“You check his work for a class you don’t even take?” Blaise asked, eyebrow raised. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much? How would you even know if he did it right?”

“It’s Divination,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “I was probably just seeing if his spelling was at least right. I know they don’t do their homework right for that class.”

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

“I haven’t done it yet,” Ron said reluctantly, but not wanting another lecture about doing his homework right. 

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.

Ron could only hope Hermione let the whole Elf thing go for himself and his counterpart. She was turning into a real nightmare over it all.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.

"Spew?" said Harri, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

“Spew,” Fred snickered. “Really? Who would name something Spew?”

“Asking to be made fun of really,” George agreed. “Poor elves. No wonder no one’s joined for their cause when the name of the only society for them makes you think of vomit.”

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

Harri didn’t think this was going to go well for her and Ron in these books. She was glad Dumbledore had banned talks about Elf rights during the actual readings.

Tonks rubbed her temples sure this wasn’t going to end well at all. Hermione couldn’t have learned enough about Elves in three days for her to open a club for them.

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you two join - three," said Hermione.

“So you just expect them to join when you know how Ron feels about Elves already?” Tonks asked, eyebrows raised. “You haven’t even told them what the club is all about.”

Hermione turned to her friends.  “You two are going to join right?”

Harri shrugged in return. It didn’t sound like she had much of a choice in the manner. While she was all for rights for House Elves she didn’t actually know all too much about them.

Ron was sure he’d end up joining if it got Hermione to shut up about the House Elves so he nodded.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

“Hogwarts library wouldn’t have enough books on Elves,” Amos Diggory informed her stiffly. “You’d need to look at specialty shops if you wanted books that actually gave you the full story.”

"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

Tonks had to admit those weren’t bad goals to have even if she didn’t think Hermione knew enough about Elves to decide what was best for them.

Harri wasn’t looking forward to listening to the two argue over Elves and hoped it stayed in the books.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harri, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting."

“I don’t remember either of them saying they’d join,” Nacrissa pointed out, shooting a look over at the baby snakes.

“She’s right. You can’t just order them around like that and give them jobs for a club neither of them want to join or have agreed to join,” Daphne added at Narcissa's insistent look.

“They haven’t told me they don't want to be in the club either,” Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the pair of them, and Harri sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face. 

Hermione ducked her head sheepishly.  So maybe they didn’t want to be in her club. And maybe she had just steamrollered them into it. 

The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harri looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

Harri sighed and relaxed into Remus' hold. Sirius had gotten back to her and Hedwig was fine.

Harri -

I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.

I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harri

Sirius

“Why are you coming back? You can’t come back,” Harri cried looking over at Sirius in disbelief.

“I obviously think you're in danger, of course I’d come back,” Sirius defended his counterpart. He wouldn’t have just left her to handle things by herself. He was doing the best he could as a fugitive.

“You could get caught. I could lose you” Harri argued, sending him a look of pure hurt. “You’re the only family I have in these books that give a damn about me. I can’t afford to lose you when I don’t know there are other people who care.”

“It’s a chance I’d be willing to take for you Harri if it means keeping you out of danger,” Sirius tried to reason.

“It's not a chance I’m willing to take,” Harri barked, crossing her arms.

Sirius didn’t think there would be any winning here. His status as a fugitive was hurting Harri and he had no one to blame but himself. 

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harri, now slamming her fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! 

Sirius sighed, it was his job to worry about Harri, and while it warmed him to know both Harri and her counterpart cared about his well being so much he wished she’d let him be the parent here. His life would always come second to Harri’s.

Cassandra had to wonder if Harri's instinct to push the danger she could be in and care about others came from her or was the aftermath of living with the Dursleys for so long. You could only be told you mattered less than everyone else so many times before you started to believe it after all.

And I haven't got anything for you," Harri snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

Hedwig gave her an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing her around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

“That’s not going to end well for me,” Harri groaned. She was sure Hedwig would hold a grudge.

If Sirius came back and got caught, it would be her, Harri’s, fault. Why hadn't she kept her mouth shut? A few seconds' pain and she’d had to blab....If she’d just had the sense to keep it to herself....

“Absolutely not,” Sirius stated firmly as he stared Harri down. “I know you don’t like it that I could be putting myself in danger, kiddo, but never feel like you can’t tell me something. Shutting me out isn’t going to help either of us. You aren’t responsible for my actions and the consequences those actions have.”

Harri stared at the floor as mumbled, “I’ll try and remember that.”