Pursuits

The Gryffindor common room was strangely quiet on the morning after the attack on Colin Creevey. The older students whispered to each other as they huddled around tables or left for breakfast, and the remaining first-years crossed the room in two dense groups. Every few moments, someone glanced at the wall between the staircases to the dormitories, where Lee Jordan had hung a poster-sized version of Colin’s famous Quidditch photo.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione watched their house-mates as they waited for Ron to emerge for breakfast. Though Ginny had answered all of Hermione’s questions, they were no closer to an answer than they had been the previous night. They still suspected Malfoy, but they still lacked any proof to support or refute their theory. Regardless, Harry and Ginny resolved to stay with Hermione every minute of the day. They only hoped that their friend would not catch on too quickly.

“I wish I’d been able to find Polyjuice Potion in Snape’s office,” Hermione said into the tense silence. “We could’ve avoided all of this.”

Ginny shook her head. “Professor McGonagall said it’s not our fault, Hermione. It’s not yours, either.”

“The monster couldn’t have known Colin would be there, could it?” Harry asked. “It was probably just looking for someone to attack, and he was the first person it found. Would’ve been someone else if he wasn’t there.”

Some other Muggle-born, you mean.

“Still, I . . .”

They were interrupted when Ron entered from the staircase and leaned on the edge of their table. “Blimey. Bit creepy down here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Harry and Ginny heard their names mentioned in whispered voices as they entered the Great Hall, and it seemed that the Hufflepuffs in particular were repeating Harry’s name every few seconds. The Gryffindors, however, did not take any special notice of Harry or Ginny, and with their backs to the rest of the Hall, they managed to relax.

In the middle of their meal, the post arrived, and Percy strode down the table a few minutes later.

“We’ve had a letter from our mother,” he said, holding an envelope out to Ginny. “She’s asked me to make sure that everyone reads it.”

Ginny kept her head down and rolled her eyes. Then she nodded, pulled the parchment of Percy’s grip, and spread it out on the table. Harry pretended to focus on his breakfast, and Ron leaned forward to read upside-down.

After the first few lines, Ginny sighed. We should’ve known she’d hear about Colin within hours.

But how?

Who knows? Probably some parent at the Ministry. She read the rest of the letter. Mrs. Weasley urged her children to be very careful, and she was especially firm in instructing Percy to watch them all. Ginny could tell that her mother wanted to postpone their trip to Romania, but the elder Weasleys were still planning to go.

I bet Dad talked her into it, Ginny said as she flipped the letter around for Ron to finish. She’s wanted to go for years, and they could get back here in a few minutes if they really had to.

“Do you have any questions?” Percy asked, taking the parchment back from Ron.

“No, Percy,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes openly this time. “We’ll be fine.”

The tall boy scowled at her and leaned over the table towards Ginny and Harry. “The prefects are aware that you found Mr. Creevey last night. Our parents don’t know that yet, but I’m sure I can speak for them in saying that you should be especially careful.”

Without allowing any of them to respond, Percy walked further down the table towards the twins.

“Git,” Ron said, spooning more cereal into his mouth.

“Mum would say that, I bet,” Ginny said. She turned to Hermione. “What are you going to tell your parents?”

Hermione pursed her lips and then shrugged. “The truth, I suppose.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well . . . most of it. They can know what’s going on without hearing all of the details of the legend and everything.”

“You’re afraid they’ll want you to go home for the hols, aren’t you?” Ginny asked.

“A bit, yes. We have important things to do over the break.”

As the day went on, Harry drew more and more attention from the other students. Ravenclaws and Slytherins started avoiding Harry in the corridors between morning lessons, and by lunchtime even a few Gryffindors were giving him strange looks.

“What’s wrong with everyone?” Harry asked in a whisper.

Hermione huffed loudly. “They’re being silly, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “They think you’re the Heir of Slytherin, Harry.”

“What?!” Ginny asked, barely keeping her voice down.

“I know, it’s preposterous,” Hermione said. “Someone saw you with Professor McGonagall last night, and they’re all jumping to conclusions.”

That prefect! Ginny said. What was her name?

Nicholls.

Yeah. It must be her gossiping everywhere.

“Where’d you hear that, Hermione?” Ginny asked. “We haven’t heard a thing.”

The older girl shrugged. “You don’t often go into the toilets when there are a lot of other girls in there.”

The suspicious looks and hushed whispers continued through afternoon lessons, but Harry and Ginny managed to ignore it all. Still, by the time they returned to Gryffindor tower before dinner, they were looking forward to the relative sanctuary of the common room. When they entered, however, they found the room buzzing with excitement.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked Dean, who was talking with Seamus near the portrait hole.

“They’re starting a duelling club!” Dean said. “First meeting tomorrow night.”

“Yeah?” Ron asked, excitement rising in his expression. “Could be good.”

Seamus glanced at Harry and then muttered, “Could be dead useful, too.”

Ginny frowned and started to speak, but Dean pulled Seamus towards the dormitories, speculating about what spells they might learn at the duelling club.

Never mind, Harry said, resigned.

“Why start it right before the holidays?” Hermione asked thoughtfully, drawing their attention back to her. “That seems odd, don’t you think?”

Ginny nodded and decided to let Seamus’ behaviour pass for the moment. The four of them crossed the room to where a knot of students had gathered around the notice board. Harry could see that there was a new sheet of parchment tacked there, but he could not read it with so many taller students in front of him. Ginny could hardly see the parchment at all.

“’You are hereby invited to attend the first meeting of the Hogwarts Duelling Club,’” Ron read. “’We will explore the ancient sport of wizarding duelling, focusing on practical spellwork.’” His eyes flicked down the rest of the page, and then he snorted in surprise. “It’s mandatory for second-years. Not much of an invitation, then, is it?”

“Mandatory? Why?” Ginny asked.

“Dunno. Just says we have to go. First-years can’t go at all, and everyone else can show up if they feel like it.”

“I’d go anyway, I think,” Hermione said. “It could be really interesting.”

The next day, no one spoke of anything but the Duelling Club, for which Harry and Ginny were grateful. At seven o’clock, Professor McGonagall herded the students out of the Great Hall so that it could be prepared for the meeting. Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron made a quick trip to Gryffindor tower to put away their bulky robes, and then they went back downstairs to wait in the Entrance Hall. All around them, the other students mingled in pairs and groups.

“Look,” Hermione said in a fierce whisper, drawing Harry and Ginny’s attention. “We need hairs from the Slytherins, and tonight is a perfect opportunity to get them.” She pressed two small vials into each of their hands. “Ron and Harry, you try to get hairs from Crabbe and Goyle. Ginny, you and I can try for any Slytherin girls, but Pansy Parkinson would be best.”

“You’re asking a lot if you want me to turn into her,” Ginny said, making a gagging motion.

“I know. If I get her hair, I’ll do it instead. Anyway, try to get a hair for yourself, and if you get a chance, get one for someone else, too. Make sure to keep them in separate vials so we know which is which. Put one in your left pocket and one in your right.”

The other three tucked the vials into their pockets. “How are we supposed to get these hairs, anyway?” Ron muttered.

“Well . . . I’m not sure,” Hermione said. “We’ll just have to keep our eyes open for some way to do it without drawing too much attention.”

“Great,” Ron said. “That helps loads.”

At eight o’clock, they entered the Great Hall and found it completely transformed. The house tables were all gone. Instead, a long, golden stage ran along one wall. The room was lit by thousands of floating candles, just as it would have been for a feast.

“I don’t see Professor Flitwick anywhere,” Hermione said. “Do you?”

Rumour had it that Flitwick had once been a duelling champion, so everyone expected him to teach the Club. He was nowhere to be found, however. In fact, as eight o’clock approached, there were no teachers present at all.

Finally, the door to the anteroom opened, and all of the students looked up expectantly. Professor Lockhart strode into the room, dressed in robes of a deep plum richly trimmed in gold. He wore a golden cloak that looked much more like a cape, and it belled artfully behind him as he strutted up onto the stage.

Harry and Ginny groaned, but they froze before they could say anything to Ron. Professor Snape, in his customary black robes, stalked into the room behind Lockhart.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ron murmured.

Ginny looked hopefully at the door to the anteroom, but no-one else emerged from it.

“Good evening!” Lockhart called. He stood in the precise centre of the stage, and a small spotlight appeared out of nowhere to draw attention to him. “Welcome to the first meeting of the Hogwarts Duelling Club.”

Most of the students applauded, led by an enthusiastic Hermione.

“I’ll be teaching the Club, and Professor Snape has sportingly agreed to assist me. If anyone would like to review my qualifications and experience with duelling, feel free to peruse my published works.

“We’re going to start with the basics, but I’m sure we’ll all benefit from my hard-earned skills. Hopefully, you’ll be able duellists by the end of this very first lesson. That monster won’t be so quick to attack a wizard who knows how to use his wand!”

There was more applause, but Snape looked as though he had swallowed something sour. For the first time in their lives, Harry and Ginny agreed with him.

“Let’s start with the Disarming Charm!” Lockhart said. “I’ve used this charm hundreds of times . . . thousands, even. The most memorable was probably . . .”

That explains it, Ginny said, frowning bitterly. Second-years have to attend because he’s going to teach us what he should have taught us weeks ago.

Why couldn’t he have done this sooner? Might’ve helped Colin.

Hard to imagine how the Disarming Charm would have helped against a monster.

Better than nothing, though, right?

Ginny shrugged, and they returned their attention to Lockhart.

“. . . a demonstration of that Charm, so you know what you’re trying to do. Professor Snape, could you come up here, please?” Snape climbed up to one end of the stage and waited. Lockhart grinned conspiratorially at the crowd. “Now, we’re just going to use the Disarming Charm, nothing else. I promise you’ll still have your Potions Master when we’re done.”

Lockhart twirled to his right and strode to the end of the stage opposite Snape. “Firstly, we bow.” Lockhart bent low, flourishing his arms and pointing one leg in something that could charitably be called a bow. Snape merely nodded fractionally, and then both men raised their wands in front of their faces. “We begin in the standard combative pose, as you see,” Lockhart said. “On three, we will each cast our spells. One, two, three!”

Lockhart began to move, his cape swirling again. Before he had even aimed his wand fully, Snape snapped his arm out and shouted, “Expelliarmus!” The Defence Professor flew through the air, landing on his back at the very end of the stage. His wand soared almost all the way across the Hall, and Snape caught it in his left hand. His own wand was still trained on Lockhart.

Hermione emitted a quiet “eep!” and stood on her tiptoes to see Lockhart. Around the hall, other students were also straining towards the fallen man, and a girl cried out wordlessly from the front of the crowd.

After a moment, Lockhart climbed to his feet and brushed off his robes. By the time he finished, his trademark grin was back in place, and he walked along the length of the stage with something like his previous swagger. “There you are!” he said, a bit more loudly than before. “I did promise a demonstration, did I not? You weren’t expecting to be the one doing that part of the demonstration though, were you, Professor Snape?” He chuckled and nodded. “My gift to you, my good man. But don’t expect me to let you do it again!”

Scowling, Snape lowered his wand and held Lockhart’s out by the tip. The blond professor took it and began magicking away the remaining dust and wrinkles in his clothes.

“A very informative demonstration, indeed.” The deep voice was not loud, but it carried effortlessly over the rustlings and murmurs in the chamber.

Within a heartbeat, the Hall was completely silent. Students and professors alike turned to stare at the door to the anteroom, where Albus Dumbledore stood calmly with his hands in his pockets. The Headmaster wore grey robes that sparkled with gold and silver runes embroidered into the fabric.

Harry and Ginny grinned. Oh, this’ll be fun.

“Ah, Headmaster,” Lockhart said, his voice less confident now. “Welcome to our little Duelling Club.”

“Thank you, Gilderoy,” Dumbledore said, strolling towards the stage. “I do like to keep abreast of what is happening in the castle. How my teachers are faring, that sort of thing.”

“And . . . and you’re always welcome!” Lockhart said. “Let’s all greet our Headmaster properly, shall we?” He began a round of applause, and Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement.

“You are most kind,” the Headmaster said. “I wonder if you might allow me to share a bit of my own experience. For a few minutes, only. You clearly have this Club well in hand.”

Lockhart grinned and nodded. “Of course. By all means.” He leapt off of the stage, landing a bit stiffly, and waved his hand towards the place he had occupied a moment before.

Dumbledore nodded at Snape, who also left the stage. Then the Headmaster climbed up the stairs and moved to the centre of the platform. As he approached, the spotlight vanished. The students were still completely silent.

“Professors Lockhart and Snape have just given you a very effective demonstration of the usefulness of the Disarming Charm. As you all saw, a wizard or witch without a wand is much less of a threat. You also saw that when cast forcefully, the Charm is quite useful for disorienting an opponent. That is today’s main lesson, I’m sure.” He produced his own wand from his robes and began twirling it deftly between the fingers of his right hand. “However, the Disarming Charm does not have to be used in that way. It can, in fact, be a very delicate instrument. I hope you will all indulge me as I share this less-combative use of the spell.

“I will demonstrate and then be done. Would anyone care to assist me?” Dumbledore looked out at the group of students, his eyes twinkling. From second-year to seventh-year, the students were silent. After only a moment, however, the Headmaster’s eyes found Harry and Ginny. “Miss Weasley? If you would be so kind?”

Ginny swallowed. She knew the spell, and Dumbledore was surely aware that she knew it, which might make her a better choice than the other second-year students in the Hall. At the same time, if she had wanted to be drawn up on stage like that, she would have said so herself, and any student beyond second year would know the charm already. A shred of her lingering dislike for the Headmaster surfaced.

Maybe he doesn’t know just how good we are at that, she mused quickly. McGonagall said there wasn’t much more she could teach us about it.

We hexed him once, didn’t we?

And he asked me, didn’t he?

“All right, Professor,” Ginny said. She kept her voice polite and curious, but Harry could see the glint in her eyes. Keeping their hands at waist level and moving as little as possible, they exchanged wands.

“Wonderful.” Dumbledore flicked his wrist, and a new set of stairs appeared at the middle of the stage, directly in front of Ginny. The students in between parted, and Ginny walked up the aisle and onto the platform. “We will begin just as the professors did, but I will disarm you much differently.”

Ginny nodded, remembering the last time the Headmaster had attempted to disarm her. She and Harry knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the old wizard had chosen her for precisely that reason. Her annoyance with him grew to overshadow her nervousness. “What if I were to disarm you, Professor?” she asked in a loud, clear voice.

A few students laughed, but Dumbledore smiled. “Then we shall have learned a very different, but equally valuable, lesson.”

Smiling sweetly, Ginny turned and walked to her end of the platform. Once there, she spun and faced the Headmaster, holding the phoenix feather wand point-up in front of her face. Dumbledore watched her with an expression of intense focus, his wand loose in his hand, as they both nodded deeply instead of bowing. The Headmaster maintained eye contact with her as they both moved, and his casual competence made Ginny much less confident in her ability to disarm him.

Harry closed his eyes, giving the duel their full attention.

Dumbledore counted softly. “One. Two. Three.”

Ginny snapped her wrist forward and down as she shouted, “Expelliarmus!”

Her aim was perfect, but the Headmaster was no longer where he had been. In a single, fluid motion, he side-stepped, turned sideways, and fired off his spell. Ginny only had time to widen her eyes before the red light struck her right hand. Harry’s wand leapt out of her grip, and it flew forward a few yards before landing gently on the stage. In a moment of pure awe, Ginny realised that the wand was just far enough away that she could not reach it quickly, even if she dived.

Dumbledore’s wand was still pointed at her, and Ginny did not feel brave enough to move even her fingers. After a moment of complete stillness, Dumbledore lowered his wand, and the merry twinkle returned to his eyes as the intensity faded. With a casual swish-and-flick of his wand, Harry’s wand flew gently back towards Ginny’s hand. She caught it mechanically.

“You see?” Dumbledore said, stroking his beard and smiling widely. “The spell can be quite gentle and quite precise. Did you feel any impact or discomfort, Miss Weasley?”

Ginny realised that she had not felt anything at all, and she swallowed. “No, Professor.”

A few of the students nearest the Headmaster were whispering and pointing at him. Dumbledore glanced at them, and then he followed their gazes to the front of his robes. “Ah,” he said.

Ginny could not tell what he was looking at, so she began to walk towards him. As she approached, the Headmaster leaned down and swept his fingers across the surface of the stage. Something shone in his hand when he straightened. After a few more steps, Ginny could see that he was holding a handful of loose gold and silver threads.

Dumbledore waved his other hand at his front, where two of the decorative runes were obviously missing from his robes. “If I had been slower by perhaps half an inch, I think we would have learned that other lesson instead. Well done, Miss Weasley. Very well done, indeed. Twenty points to Gryffindor.” He pressed the threads into Ginny’s free hand.

Harry finally opened his eyes and let out a breath he had been holding since the demonstration began. We have not mastered that spell.

Not even a little bit.

“Students, I ask you to remember that a spell need not be forceful to be effective. Though, in this case, I admit that there may be advantages to the forceful version in some situations. Professor Lockhart, Professor Snape, I will leave you to your teaching,” Dumbledore said, bowing slightly in their direction. “A good evening to you all.” He strolled out of the Great Hall as suddenly and calmly as he had entered.

Ginny realised that she was alone on the stage, and she hurried off of it. Back between Harry and Hermione, she shoved the shining threads into her pocket and exchanged wands with Harry again.

“Mental, that one,” Ron said in a hushed voice. “Brilliant, though.”

Terrifying, more like.

“Yeah,” Ginny breathed.

“Well, now!” Lockhart called, climbing back onto the stage. He only just made it to the surface before the Headmaster’s conjured stairs vanished. “You’ve had two excellent demonstrations, so let’s see what you make of it yourselves. Professor Snape and I will pair you off for practice.” He laughed, loudly and falsely. “I don’t envy the one of you who winds up with little Miss Weasley!”

Ginny stiffened and tightened her hold on her wand. “If he ever calls me that again, I’m going to disarm his bits from his body,” she muttered.

“Ginny!” Hermione said reproachfully. “He was complimenting you!”

“If you say so.”

The two professors circulated through the students, pairing them off and arranging the pairs in opposing lines. Harry and Ginny, followed by Ron and Hermione, moved to join the rows that were forming, but Professor Snape approached them, smiling unpleasantly.

“It’s hardly fair to ask Mr. Potter to be humiliated by his little girlfriend, is it?” Snape said. Glaring, Ginny moved to exchange places with Hermione. “No, no. I don’t think it would be kind to ask any of you to turn your wands on one of your friends.” He raised his voice into a commanding bark. “Mr. Malfoy, Miss Parkinson! Come here. Mr. and Miss Weasley, you go and partner with Mr. Goyle and Miss Greengrass.”

A few seconds later, Harry was facing Malfoy across a span of a few yards, and Ginny was some distance away among a group of Slytherins, opposite Daphne Greengrass.

“The look on your face!” Millicent Bulstrode said from Ginny’s left. “Did you actually think you could disarm Dumbledore? I’m amazed you walked off the stage in one piece!”

“Are you?” Ginny asked, forcing herself to sound casual. “I’m quite amazed that you can walk upright at all.”

“Are we ready?” Lockhart shouted. “On three, everyone try to disarm your partner. One, two, three!”

Angry and flustered, Ginny and Harry snapped their wands forwards in sync, barely remembering to restrain themselves. Greengrass got her spell off, but it missed Ginny, and the taller girl went flying into the next row of students when the redhead’s spell impacted. Malfoy did not manage to cast at all, and Harry’s spell knocked him flat onto his back. He lay there for a moment, blinking stupidly, as Harry kicked his wand back to him.

Millicent Bulstrode, who had still been staring stupidly at Ginny when Lockhart started them, looked up only in time to attempt to dodge her opponent’s spell. The bulky girl staggered sideways and collided with Ginny, sending both girls to the floor in a tangle of uniforms and limbs.

Least she didn’t land on top of you, Harry said.

Ginny shoved herself forcefully away from Bulstrode, and Harry turned to check on Hermione and Ron. As far as he could tell, neither Ron nor Goyle had managed to do anything at all to each other. They were both pointing their wands at each other to little effect. Hermione, however, walked into the open area and picked up Pansy Parkinson’s wand. She carried it to the other girl and held it out politely.

Pansy scowled and snatched the wand out of her hand. “You cheated!”

“What? Of course I didn’t.”

“You did. You started too early.”

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Hermione said sharply. “Next time, I’ll be very sure I start on time.”

“Oh, of course you will,” Pansy said. “You probably cheat all the time. It’d explain a lot.”

“I do not cheat!” Hermione insisted. “Perhaps you should try to pay more attention! It’s certainly not my fault you’re -”

She stopped talking abruptly when Pansy reached out and slapped her. Enraged, Harry started forward to help his friend, but at that moment Draco recovered and attempted to disarm him. Harry dodged the spell and dropped Malfoy to the floor again. He left the other boy’s wand on the flagstones between them.

Across the hall, Millicent and Daphne had both stopped casting spells and started watching Hermione and Pansy. The two Slytherin girls were cheering for their housemate, but their shouts were lost in the general tumult of the crowd.

When Harry and Ginny focused on Hermione again, she and Pansy Parkinson were locked in a violent embrace, each holding one of the other’s arms to keep themselves from getting slapped. Hermione still had her wand, but apparently she was reluctant to use it at such close range. Inspired, Harry stepped forward and shouted, “Hermione!”

She glanced at him, and he mimed pulling at his own hair. Hermione grinned almost instantly, and then she released Pansy’s arm and reached up to yank at the other girl’s straight brown locks. Pansy screeched and released Hermione, who scuttled back across the floor to her original place. Her hand went to her pocket, and Harry was sure she had managed to keep one of the other girl’s hairs.

“Stop!”

Snape’s amplified voice boomed across the Hall, and everyone froze. Glancing around, Harry and Ginny saw similar scenes throughout the room. Two Hufflepuff third-years faced each other, holding their wands outstretched with frustrated scowls on their faces. Padma Patil had been paired with a very competent-looking sixth-year Ravenclaw, and she seemed rather frightened as she scrambled across the floor to retrieve her wand. Judging by her dusty and dishevelled uniform, it was not the first time. Fred and George had apparently managed to disarm each other simultaneously, and they were wrestling energetically in an open area of the floor. As the rest of the Hall settled, the twins leapt to their feet and nonchalantly picked up their wands.

Gilderoy Lockhart stood on the stage, surveying the students as though shocked by their behaviour. Idiot, Ginny said. Like everyone was going to stand in neat lines and cast polite little spells at each other. She looked down and began brushing away the dirt left over from her visit to the flagstones. As she did, she spotted a black hair clinging to her white uniform shirt. She looked over at Bulstrode’s ebony locks and grinned. Brilliant!

That’s two, then, Harry said as Ginny put the hair into one of her vials.

Snape spoke again, his voice loud but no longer amplified. “Perhaps, Professor, we should also teach them to block unfriendly spells, so that they are not struck by every single spell in the room.”

“Ah . . . yes,” Lockhart said. “That is indeed the next thing I had planned. We’ll need a demonstration, I suppose. Everyone gather round.”

The students moved towards the stage again. The twins and their fourth-year friends sidled up behind Harry and Ginny.

“Having fun, little sis?” Fred asked.

Ginny snorted. “Oh, yeah. Laugh a minute, this.”

“Chin up,” George whispered. “You almost got Dumbledore.”

“You duel him, and then you tell me how close I got,” Ginny said.

Lockhart looked around uncertainly for a moment, but then he grinned. “Let’s have students, this time! There’s no training like hands-on training, that’s what I always say. Let’s see . . . Mr. Longbottom, why don’t you and your partner come up here?”

Neville was paired with a Ravenclaw that Harry and Ginny did not know. Both boys nodded, though Neville went very pale.

“I don’t think that’s particularly wise, Professor,” Snape said. “Longbottom wreaks havoc whenever he attempts magic, and I think we’ve had enough embarrassing spectacles for one evening. Why not Malfoy and Potter?”

Lockhart nodded. “Ah, always very proud of Slytherin, aren’t you? Very well, very well. Up you get!” He waved merrily at Harry and Malfoy.

Draco, who had managed to cast one spell and had been sent flying twice, looked eager for another chance. Harry only shrugged. They climbed onto the stage at either end and waited for instructions.

“We’ll have Potter defend himself, shall we?” Snape said, moving to stand next to Malfoy.

“Very well,” Lockhart said, nodding again. “Here’s what you need to do, Harry. Hold your wand like this and say ‘prot-eggo’. Thusly.” He flourished his wand and repeated the word, but nothing remotely magical happened. Instead, his wand slipped out of his grip and hit the stage with a sharp clatter. “Whoops! Warm up here, isn’t it? Makes things slippery. Just do as I did, Harry.”

“What, drop my wand?” Harry asked, not even trying to conceal his dislike.

A few students, mostly boys, chuckled. Lockhart’s eyes lost some of their geniality. “You’ll be fine.”

Harry waited, his confidence draining away, as Snape muttered into Malfoy’s ear.

That didn’t even sound like a real spell, Ginny said. She looked over her shoulder at George. “What’s he trying to show Harry?” she whispered.

“Shield Charm, I think,” her brother said consolingly.

“Do you know the proper incantation?”

“Err . . . not really. Hang on.” George leaned over to Angelina and whispered in her ear. She nodded and whispered back, and then she returned her attention to the stage. “It’s pro-tay-go. ‘Protego,’” he said. “Just point your wand straight ahead.”

Harry sighed. With the correct pronunciation of the incantation, at least he had a chance.

And be ready in case it works, Ginny reminded him.

Snape backed away from Malfoy and nodded to Lockhart. “Very well, on three,” Lockhart said. “One, two, three!”

Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy’s chest and shouted “Protego!” at the same moment that Malfoy circled his wrist and said “Serpensortia!”

Malfoy’s spell did not move directly towards Harry. Instead, it angled down towards the floor at his feet. At the same time, however, something hazy and vaguely oblong burst out of Harry’s wand. The pale orange light of Malfoy’s spell impacted the misty shield, and both of them vanished. Harry flicked his wrist again, unable to contain his feeling of triumph, and shouted, “Expelliarmus!”

The spell hit Draco while the blond boy was still staring at the point where his spell had vanished. His wand shot out of his hand, and he tumbled backwards. After rolling twice head over heels, he dropped off the end of the stage and landed with a muffled thud on the flagstones below.

The Gryffindors cheered, and Harry could not restrain a small grin. He had not intended to cast the spell that forcefully, but he felt much better after doing so.

Snape leapt off of the stage and pulled Malfoy to his feet. The normally polished Slytherin looked distinctly rumpled and a bit dazed, but he supported his own weight and stayed upright. “Potter!” Snape snapped. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for unnecessary violence against a fellow student.”

Outrage roared in Harry and Ginny’s mind, but he turned and left the stage without protest. As he rejoined Ginny, Fred muttered, “Worth it.” The other Gryffindors standing nearby nodded.

“There you have it,” Lockhart said. “The Shield Charm produces a shield against unfriendly spells. Let’s pair off again, and this time you can take turns with the Disarming Charm and the Shield Charm.”

The students moved back into their lines. This time, Snape did not prevent the Gryffindors from pairing with each other. Harry and Ginny faced each other in a double line of their house-mates, and the Slytherins formed a pair of lines behind Ginny. Harry kept a close eye on the second-year Snakes in case they sought some form of retaliation.

Learning the Shield Charm kept the lesson interesting, even though Harry and Ginny were utterly tired of listening to Lockhart. They cast very gentle spells at each other until they managed to produce a ragged Shield Charm each time they tried it. Nearby, Hermione was Shielding herself from Ron, whose Disarming Charm was getting noticeably better.

What are we going to do about the hairs? Harry asked as he sent another red charm across the room. Crabbe and Goyle are the ones we really need.

Dunno. I don’t fancy picking a fistfight with one of them, and that’s about the only way Hermione and I got close enough for ours. Ginny fingered the empty vial in her pocket, and the metallic threads from Dumbledore’s robes brushed against her skin. Do you suppose . . .?

Err . . . worth a try, I guess. If it doesn’t work, we can just say we were practicing.

Over the course of a few more spells, Harry sidled closer to Hermione. Then, when it was his turn to disarm Ginny, he sent a very weak spell across the room. Ginny ducked rather than shielding herself, and the red charm hit Crabbe squarely in the back of his beefy head. The large boy grunted sharply, and a puff of reddish-brown hair flew away from his scalp in a cloud, leaving a small bald patch.

Crabbe spun around and glowered down at Ginny. She smiled cheerfully and said, “Sorry. Harry missed.”

He clenched his fist and began to raise it, but then he looked around the Hall. Harry, standing a few yards behind her, saw the large boy’s eyes find Fred, George, Ron, and finally Harry himself, all of whom had paused to watch the exchange with their wands at the ready. Crabbe grunted again and turned back to letting Malfoy Disarm him.

Moron, Harry said. As if you couldn’t stop him yourself.

Ginny crouched down and let her hair fall forward to hide her grin. Under the guise of re-tying her shoe, she picked up one of Crabbe’s hairs and put it in her empty vial. Three.

Suppose we can get away with it twice?

Rising to her feet, Ginny shrugged and flung a Disarming Charm at him, which Harry blocked. “Hermione,” he whispered.

At the same time, Ginny leaned towards Ron. “Hold off a second.”

“What?” Hermione asked.

Harry leaned close to her ear. “Hit Goyle in the back of the head with the gentlest Disarming Charm you can manage. It’ll pull his hair out, and then Ron and Ginny can pick it up.”

“Is that what you did? That’s quite clever.”

“Thanks. Pretend you hit Ron afterwards.”

Ginny looked up at her brother. “Brace yourself. Pick up one of Goyle’s hairs when it’s over.”

Ron and Hermione both looked puzzled, but Harry and Ginny only nodded encouragingly.

Harry watched closely, and when Hermione shot a spell at Goyle’s head, Harry deliberately aimed at Ron. Harry’s spell sent Ron tumbling backwards at an angle, and he collided with Goyle at almost the exact same moment that Hermione’s spell hit the Slytherin in the back of the head. Ron’s wand sailed onto the ground near Harry.

Brilliant! Ginny said.

Ron and Goyle straightened, bristling at each other. Ron was the taller of the two by a fraction, but Goyle was much broader and meaner-looking. “Watch where you’re going, carrot-head,” Goyle growled.

“Try not to take up so much space, then, plonker!”

“Sorry!” Hermione interjected. “My fault. I hit him with a spell that was a bit stronger than I planned. All my fault, honestly.”

Goyle glanced at her, scowling stupidly.

“You got smacked around by Granger, Weasley?” Malfoy called derisively. “Are you serious? I would hope that even you could beat someone like her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Malfoy?” Harry glared at Malfoy as he tossed Ron’s wand towards his friend’s feet.

“Get the stupid hair,” Ginny hissed at Ron. He started and then reached down to retrieve his wand. Ginny saw him grab a few short, bristly hairs in his other hand.

Malfoy scoffed. “You know exactly what I mean, Potter. She’s nothing but a -”

Harry strode forward and snapped his wand up. Ginny spun around to aim her wand at Malfoy, too. “Go on, Malfoy,” she said in a low voice.

“Break it up, now, break it up!” Lockhart strode through the growling cluster of students, waving his arms placatingly. “We’re all just practicing here. No need for that.” Reluctantly, Harry and Ginny relaxed, and they all jostled back into two rows. “That’s better. Now, Mr. Weasley, let’s see that Shield Charm, eh?”

Ron tried the Charm, and something appeared at the end of his wand, but Hermione’s Disarming Charm hit him anyway and sent his wand clattering to his feet.

“Keep at it, Mr. Weasley.” Lockhart smiled and nodded at Hermione. “I see you’re following the Headmaster’s school of thought, Miss Granger. That’s fine, of course, just fine . . . but I have to say that if I had used such a gentle spell when . . .”

Harry and Ginny tuned the professor out as he began another of his long, grandiose recitals. They were amused, however, to see that Hermione looked both pleased and a bit exasperated.

She’d rather be practicing, I bet, Ginny said.

Well, we got all the hairs like she wanted us to, so she can stand to listen to the git for a while.

Harry had ended up next to Ron this time, and he leaned over towards his friend. “It kinda helps if you push your wand forward as you cast the shield. Dunno why.”

Ron scowled, but he nodded. Ginny caught his eye and raised an eyebrow, and he nodded again.

Gently, Ginevra, Harry said, a grin in his voice.

She gave him the mental equivalent of a raspberry and then whispered, “Expelliarmus.”

Ron raised his wand and thrust it forward, shouting “Protego!” A more substantial something formed at the tip of his wand. Ginny’s spell hit it, and both the Charm and the shield disappeared.

“Cool,” Ron said. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, Lockhart finished telling his third story to a crowd of girls who had completely stopped practicing. At Snape’s loud suggestion, the two professors declared the meeting at an end.

“Well done, everyone,” Lockhart said, climbing back onto the stage. “We’ll meet again at the same time on the first Thursday after the holidays. Second-years, you aren’t required to come to future meetings, but of course I’m sure you will. Good night!”

Hermione was smiling as they climbed the stairs towards Gryffindor tower. “Well, that was productive, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” Ginny said. “Got all four hairs in one night. That’ll save loads of trouble later.”

“Yes, and we learned two new spells.” Seeing Ginny’s look of derision, Hermione continued. “Well, fine, only one new spell for you, but still. You’d never done Protego, had you?”

“No,” Ginny admitted. “That was all right.”

“I think Professor Lockhart is really coming into his own now.”

“Are you serious?” Harry asked, incredulous. “We practically learned that spell by ourselves. He didn’t even tell me the right incantation!”

“Couldn’t even hold on to his own wand,” Ron muttered.

Hermione glared at them all. “Well . . . I’m sure it was just a slip.” She focused on Ginny. “How did you feel, up on stage in front of everyone?”

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” Harry said. “Gilderoy Lockhart, nervous in front of a crowd? Go on, pull the other one, it’s got bells on.”

Hermione pursed her lips, but she did not say anything else. Instead, she quickened her pace to walk a few steps ahead of the rest of them.

Bit much, I think, Harry. There was no reproach in Ginny’s mind, only a glum sort of acceptance.

He sighed. I don’t mean to hurt her, but . . .

I know. She’s being a tiny bit stupid about it.

The four of them split into pairs and went to their dormitories as soon as they got back to the common room. Hermione disappeared into the bathroom, and Ginny sat on her bed and brushed out her hair while she waited for her friend to emerge.

The door opened, and Lavender and Parvati came into the room, already pulling off their ties. Averting her eyes, Ginny bent her neck so that her hair fell in a curtain between her and the other girls as she brushed it.

“Hi, Ginny,” Parvati said.

“Hello.”

“How’d you like watching Harry throw Malfoy across the room?”

Ginny could not help glancing up as she grinned, but both girls were standing nearby, still fully dressed and smirking broadly. “It was brilliant.”

Lavender’s eyes became unfocused, and her smile grew a bit misty. “I wish I’d had the chance to hex him, even accidentally.”

“Too busy looking at that Hufflepuff boy, weren’t you?” Parvati said. Both girls turned towards their wardrobes, and Ginny moved her face behind her hair again.

Hermione emerged from the toilets and went straight into her four-poster, and moments later, Lavender and Parvati went into the bathroom wearing dressing gowns and still chattering happily. Ginny got up and scratched lightly on the closed curtains of her friend’s bed.

“Yes?” Hermione’s voice came from inside. Ginny parted the curtains and found Hermione in her dressing gown, brushing her own unruly hair. “Oh, hello, Ginny.”

“Hi.” Ginny was not sure what to say. She wanted to fix things with Hermione, but she did not want to lie. She settled on simplicity. “I’m . . . we’re sorry. We didn’t want to upset you.”

“Okay.”

Ginny sighed. So much for this being easy. “We just can’t work out how Lo . . . how Professor Lockhart could possibly not know the proper incantation for the Shield Charm. He left Harry completely defenceless against Malfoy and Snape. How could he do that? If we’re missing something, we’ll admit it. Just tell us how that’s possible.”

“I don’t know, all right?” Hermione said, yanking her brush through her hair with a loud rasp. “I just don’t know. That doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

“Okay,” Ginny said. “But seriously, Hermione, we’re sorry. The professors — all three of them — really frustrated us. They singled us out and made us angry and . . .” She sighed. “It was a really weird night, you know?”

“Yes, it was.” Hermione put down her brush and stared at her lap for a moment. Then she sighed and smiled weakly at Ginny. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t get so upset just because you don’t see him the way I do. We’re all entitled to our own opinions, after all. I’m just . . . I’m not used to strongly disagreeing with you about something important.”

Not ‘something.’ Someone who shouldn’t be important at all.

“We don’t like it, either,” Ginny said. She grinned slightly. “Usually, we think it’s a very good sign when you agree with us.”

Hermione’s smile grew as her eyes shone, and both girls were quiet for a few moments.

“Are we okay?” Ginny asked when the moment felt right.

“Of course we are,” Hermione said. Then she stood up and leaned over to pull Ginny into a tight hug.

Ginny was surprised for just a moment. It was not a gesture of greeting or relief or joy. It was just contact and comfort. Nothing could possibly compare to the feel of Harry’s embrace, but Ginny thought that Hermione’s reminded her of some of the best hugs she had shared with her parents and brothers. Smiling, Ginny squeezed Hermione back.

“Give Harry a hug for me, too,” the older girl whispered, and then she pulled away. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Hermione.” Ginny smiled, and a few minutes later, before Harry started braiding her hair, she delivered the hug with a bit of extra warmth.

A storm arrived at Hogwarts overnight, and the grounds were blotted out by a raging blizzard all through the following day. For the first time since Harry and Ginny had started Hogwarts, one of their classes was cancelled because Professor Sprout wanted to spend extra time tending to the Mandrakes. After lunch, Ginny spotted Neville heading out of the front doors, wearing two cloaks and a thick woollen hat.

Good thing we’re only on two practices a week, Ginny said, shivering in the snowy draft from the closing doors.

Even Wood’s not crazy enough to fly in this. We wouldn’t be able to find the pitch, never mind the Snitch.

Back in the common room, Ron and Hermione struck up a game of chess. She had yet to beat him, but she had not given up in the least, and even Harry and Ginny could tell that Hermione was getting better at the game. She had definitely outstripped them, and they were perfectly content to sit on a sofa nearby and watch their two friends scrutinise the board. The last day of term always carried a certain festive air, and having a long break in the middle of the day made them all feel that it was a time for relaxation and whatever recreation they could find.

When a nearby clock chimed, Hermione looked up from the game. “We need to go and check the potion,” she said.

“Harry and I can do it,” Ginny said. “Doesn’t take all four of us, does it?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, it just needs to be stirred. Same pattern as yesterday.”

“Okay.” Harry rose from the sofa and held out a hand for Ginny. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Ron and Hermione were already bent over the chessboard again, and they did not look up. “Thanks,” Hermione muttered.

Ginny and Harry took their time walking down to the second floor. There was no particular reason to rush, and it was strangely thrilling to be wandering the halls when they would usually have been in class. They walked around the entire seventh floor, past the corridor to the Headmaster’s office, and then they descended the staircase that led to Myrtle’s bathroom.

As they crossed the landing for the third floor, they met Hagrid climbing up towards them. The huge man was wrapped in furs, and he carried a dead rooster in one of his gloved hands. “Hi, Hagrid,” Harry said.

He looked up and spotted them. “Hullo, Harry. Afternoon, l’il Ginny. Why aren’ yeh in class?”

“It was cancelled,” Ginny said. “The blizzard, and all. What’re you doing up here?”

“Summat’s been killin’ the roosters,” Hagrid said, holding up the dead bird. “Second one this term. I reckon it’s either foxes or a Blood-Suckin’ Bugbear, an’ I need the Headmaster’s permission ter put a charm ‘round the hen coop.”

“We’ll see you later, then,” Ginny said. “Maybe tomorrow after the train leaves, if the weather’s better.”

“All righ’. It’ll be nice havin’ yeh ‘round fer Christmas.” Harry and Ginny edged around Hagrid, but they stopped when he called down to them from a few steps up. “Oh, Ginny, you might want to go an’ have a word with yer brother. If I were a perfesser and I saw ‘im like tha’, I’d have t’ take points, at least.”

Ginny cocked her head curiously. “Which one?”

“Percy,” Hagrid said, grinning and shaking his head. He pointed at the opening to the second floor. “Don’t think he saw me. A ways down the corridor there, in one o’ the rooms on the left.”

Percy? Ginny said. What’s he getting up to that would cost him points?

They realised immediately what might be going on, and Harry sighed. You think?

“Thanks, Hagrid,” Ginny said. “I’ll tell him.” Not now, though. I don’t want to see that again.

Doing a good job looking out for the rest of you, isn’t he?

Ginny snorted. No. None of us is in her shirt.

She tugged Harry down the stairs and into the corridor, trying to avoid looking into any open doorways. As they approached a corner, they heard a raised voice from somewhere ahead of them.

“Hello, Sir Nicholas!”

Sounds like Penelope, Harry said.

Told you so.

“Miss Clearwater, Mr. Weasley,” Nick said. “How nice to see you.”

“I’m quite pleased to see you, too, Sir Nicholas,” Penelope said loudly. “I hope you’ve been well.”

“I have, thank you. I’ve just come from a delightful stroll through the lake with Lady Scrope of Danby. We met once in our breathing days, you know.”

“Did you?” Penelope asked. She sounded unbelievably interested. “I would love to hear about that. Perhaps you would be willing to escort me back to my dormitory? I always appreciate the company of a gentleman.”

Huh?

Ginny scowled. Percy must not have been very nice after all.

As if on cue, Percy stormed around the corner, staring back over his shoulder. Harry and Ginny quickly darted behind a nearby tapestry, and her brother passed them without noticing. Maybe it’s time for me to give him a lecture in the common room, Ginny mused.

Once Percy had started down the stairs, they continued around the corner, and they just spotted Penelope and Sir Nicholas before the odd pair disappeared at the other end of the corridor. Harry and Ginny took a few more steps and then froze in place.

“I want blood!”

It was the voice they had heard the night Mrs. Norris was attacked. Worse, it was definitely closer than it had been that night, and the voice seemed to be agitated about something.

“Blood!”

Harry’s head snapped around to the end of the corridor. That came from . . .

Come on!

They raced down the corridor after Nearly Headless Nick and Penelope, drawing their wands and fearing the worst. When they flung themselves around the corner, they slid to a halt again, and Ginny squeezed her eyes shut.

Penelope Clearwater lay face-down on the flagged stone floor. Above her floated Sir Nicholas, his head dangling from his neck and his eyes staring sightlessly.

Harry looked around quickly, but there was no sign of any sort of monster. The corridor was deserted except for them and the two victims, and they did not hear the voice again no matter how carefully they listened.

Ginny opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and gripped her black-and-white pendant in her fist. “Professor!” she whispered. “Professor, come quick! There’s been another attack. We’re on the second floor, near the girls’ toilet.”

Harry sprinted down the corridor to the stairs while Ginny stayed with Penelope. There was no one on any of the moving staircases or the platforms between them. He ran back towards Ginny and then around the corner again, listening at every door. The only people he could find anywhere were in classrooms, well away from the site of the attack.

Ginny reached down to Penelope and touched her shoulder. The flesh beneath the older girl’s robes was as hard as stone, but her body rocked when Ginny touched her. She was stiff and solid, but she did not seem to weigh any more than she normally would. Come here, Harry.

He Shifted back to her, and together they turned Penelope over onto her back. The brown-haired girl’s limbs did not move at all; it was very much like handling a hard, plastic model of a person. Once she settled onto her back, rocking slightly, Harry and Ginny could see her face. Percy’s girlfriend was looking to one side and smiling happily, as though she had just finished laughing.

Oh, Penelope, Ginny said.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Harry and Ginny both looked up to find Peeves floating above them, his hands clapped to his cheeks. “Peeves!” Harry said. He motioned for Peeves to be quiet, hoping to keep the poltergeist from attracting any more attention.

“ATTACK!” Peeves bellowed. “Another attack! No one is safe! Run for your lives! Run for your deaths!”

“Peeves, please -”

At that moment, Professor McGonagall appeared from the stairs, holding up her long skirt and running outright. “Ginny! What’s-? Oh, dear.” She dropped to her knees next to Penelope, brushing her fingers against the frozen girl’s cheek. “Oh, my dear girl.”

Students streamed into the hallways from both directions, including what could only have been McGonagall’s class based on their odd, partially-transfigured features. From the other direction, Professor Lockhart appeared at the front of another group, all brandishing their wands identically.

“They did it!” Peeves screamed. “I saw them! Saw them! Right over the birdie! Used their wands, I saw!”

“Be quiet, Peeves!” McGonagall said harshly, not looking up from her close examination of Penelope’s body. “She does not appear to be injured,” she said more quietly. “That’s something.”

“Weasley and Potter,
Birdie ran but they caught her!
Waved little sticks,
and now she’s just fodder!”

“PEEVES!” McGonagall bellowed. Still singing his new song, Peeves zipped away down the corridor, ricocheting off the walls as he went.

“Professor, we didn’t-” Ginny said.

“I know,” she whispered. Then she surged to her feet and turned to face Lockhart. “Professor Lockhart, please see these students back to their classrooms.” She spun to the group of students with stripes in their hair. “I will deduct five points from the house of each student in my class who is not back in his or her seat in sixty seconds. Move!”

The various students departed, craning their necks to watch the scene over their shoulders. Lockhart took a step forward, his brilliant smile already in place, but McGonagall gave him a very sharp look. His expression faltering, he began to herd his students away from the scene, even though they were already moving.

McGonagall watched them leave, and then she turned back to Sir Nicholas. She waved her wand, and Ginny’s hair billowed as a gust of wind blew down the corridor. Nick’s floating form moved with the draft, and the professor nodded. Then, with another wave, she conjured a rotating fan, which began to push Nick towards the stairwell.

“I request the services of a Hogwarts house-elf,” McGonagall said loudly. The words had barely left her mouth when a small elf snapped into existence. “Thank you. Please use this fan to take Sir Nicholas to any unused room in the dungeons. Then locate the Bloody Baron and let him know where Sir Nicholas is. I will speak to the Baron later.” The elf bowed quickly and hurried after the drifting ghost, guiding the fan with an upraised hand.

Professor McGonagall turned back to Harry and Ginny. “I must see Miss Clearwater to the hospital wing and then alert the other professors. I want you both to go to the Headmaster’s office. The password is ‘sherbet lemon.’ He may not be there, but I will join you in a few minutes regardless. Do not leave until one of us arrives.”

C’mon, Harry said, nodding. McGonagall Levitated Penelope’s body and hurried back down the stairs. Hand in hand, Ginny and Harry climbed up to the seventh floor and found the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s office. “Sherbet lemon.”

The stone figure stepped aside, and they rode the spiral staircase up to Dumbledore’s office. Harry knocked on the polished oak door, but there was no response from inside. Cautiously, he pulled open the door. The office was empty.

Ginny and Harry stepped inside and then stood uncertainly, gazing around the office. Fawkes slept on his perch next to the door, his head tucked under one wing. The phoenix’s plumage was duller and more ragged than Harry and Ginny remembered it. They did not bother the sleeping bird.

Should we sit? Ginny asked, eyeing at the two chairs facing the Headmaster’s desk.

I suppose so.

They tiptoed forward and wedged themselves into one of the chairs. The two of them were now a bit too large to be comfortable, though, so Ginny pried herself out of the chair and then dropped into Harry’s lap.

People are really going to blame me now, he said. Why did Peeves have to show up just then?

Dunno. It’s just ridiculous, though, you know that.

We know we didn’t attack anyone, but . . . Harry thought for a moment, and a memory came back to them. The Sorting Hat said one of us was a Slytherin, remember?

Just because someone’s a Slytherin doesn’t mean they’re the Heir of Slytherin.

Right, but someone has to be. I mean, clearly someone here is.

Ginny turned and faced Harry directly. That doesn’t mean it’s you. It can’t be.

But . . . why not? Your family’s been in Gryffindor forever, but who’s to say I’m not related to Slytherin? My father was a Gryffindor, too, but for all we know, my grandfather’s middle name could have been Salazar.

Harry, someone would have mentioned that by now, don’t you think?

Then why did the Hat say that?

Ginny glanced up to the shelf where the Sorting Hat lay in a half-crumpled heap. “Err . . . Daffyd?”

The point of the Hat straightened. “Hello, Mr. and Miss Whatever-You-Are.”

“Umm, hello,” Ginny said, ignoring the Hat’s salutation. “Do you remember when you Sorted us?”

Daffyd snorted loudly. “Why, yes, I do.”

“Well, you said . . . you said that one of us was a Slytherin. Could you tell us why you said that?”

“Because it was true,” the Hat said.

Harry shivered slightly. “Which one of us, then?”

The Hat was quiet for a long moment before speaking. “That question seems entirely academic now, doesn’t it? And I think there’s quite enough academia floating around this place already.” With that, the Hat sagged again and began snoring loudly.

I could really get tired of that stupid Hat, Ginny said, frustrated. It doesn’t matter, though. Even if you were somehow related to Slytherin, we haven’t attacked anyone.

But . . . I dunno . . . what if the monster is attacking people for me?

They were distracted by a soft gagging noise. Ginny looked behind Harry and saw that Fawkes was awake. His head moved slowly from side to side before eventually facing them. Harry and Ginny both got up and moved to the bird’s perch. Up close, they could see that Fawkes’ eyes were glazed, and there were bare patches among the feathers of his neck and crest.

“Are you all right, Fawkes?” Harry asked. Fawkes made the gagging noise again, and a few more feathers drifted down from his wings.

Oh, Ginny said. It must be his Burning Day.

“Can we do anything for you?” she asked. “Do you need . . . err . . . a pillow or something?”

Before Fawkes could answer, his tail burst into flame. The orange fire travelled quickly up his body until it consumed him completely. Fawkes fell off of his perch onto a broad tray below, and the flame spiralled away from his body to engulf the scattered feathers there.

I hope it doesn’t hurt, Ginny said.

After a moment, the fire faded, and nothing remained but a mound of gold-flecked ashes. Harry and Ginny waited, holding their breaths, until the ashes stirred. A tiny golden beak poked out of the grey dust, followed by two luminous black eyes.

“Hi,” Ginny said softly. With one careful finger, she brushed the soot off of the baby phoenix’s head, revealing its spindly neck and starved-looking body. Fawkes gave a very high-pitched croon, but the sound was undeniably healthier than the gagging noise had been.

Together, Harry and Ginny used their fingers to brush away the rest of the ashes. The baby Fawkes was awkward and almost misshapen, but when all of the ash was cleared away, he was able to stand on his golden legs. Harry held out his cupped hands. “Want a leg up to your perch?”

“He can’t quite balance yet,” Dumbledore’s voice sounded from the doorway. Harry and Ginny spun around to find the Headmaster standing with his hands in his sleeves, smiling gently. “Give him a bit of sulphur from the jar.”

Turning around again, Harry spotted a glass jar full of yellow powder. Using a scoop inside the jar, he dropped a small mound of sulphur onto the tray next to Fawkes. The tiny bird laid his head sideways onto the powder and seemed to inhale a bit of it.

“He’ll be up and about in no time, I assure you,” Dumbledore said, crossing to sit behind his desk. “I’m glad you were here, though. I like to be present for his Burnings, but today’s events forced me away.”

The reminder of why they were in the office sobered Harry and Ginny. She stroked Fawkes’ bony back once, and then they returned to their chair. “Did Professor McGonagall find you?” Ginny asked.

“Eventually, but I heard about the incident earlier.” Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “I’ve spent the last several minutes searching the area of the attack, but I can find no sign of the perpetrator.”

“We heard it,” Harry said. “Just before. That’s why we were right there.”

The old wizard’s gaze sharpened. “Did you? What did you hear, and where?”

Ginny shrugged. “It just talked about blood this time. We were already on the second floor, but over on the other side.”

“So when we heard it, we just ran over there and found Penelope and Nick.”

“And yet you did not hear anything after the attack?”

“No, Professor,” Harry said. “I looked around, too, but I didn’t see anyone else there.”

Dumbledore sighed. “Ah, well. I am glad that we have once again connected the voice with the attacks, though I wish it had not been necessary to do so. Would you be so kind as to share your memory of this afternoon’s events with me?”

With the Headmaster’s assistance, Harry provided his memory from the moment they heard the voice to the moment Professor McGonagall found them. They were certain that the memory did not contain anything that might lead Dumbledore to the potion in Myrtle’s bathroom.

“Ah, I believe Minerva has arrived,” the Headmaster said.

Moments later, the door opened, and Professor McGonagall hurried into the office. “I have asked each professor to escort the students back to their common rooms at the end of the current lesson. I’ve also announced that the afternoon’s other lessons will be cancelled, and dinner will be served in the common rooms again.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore said. “Thank you. Once the majority of the students have left tomorrow, we will search the castle thoroughly.”

“Albus, what should we tell their parents? Two attacks in four days . . .”

He stopped her with a raised hand. “A question we must address, but not just yet. Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley were just recounting this afternoon’s events to me.”

Quickly, Harry and Ginny repeated their unhelpful story.

“I am curious,” Dumbledore said when they had finished. “Why were you in that particular corridor? I do not accuse you, not at all, but I do wonder.”

Bugger, Harry said. He’s too clever by half.

“Err . . .” Ginny said. “Well, we were just walking about, really, and we ran into Hagrid. Did he find you, Headmaster?”

Dumbledore nodded. “He did. Go on.”

“He . . . ahh . . . said that one of my brothers was . . . err . . .” Though her distaste for Percy had multiplied tenfold in the last half hour, she still could not quite bring herself to deliberately get him into trouble with the Headmaster. “He said that one of my brothers was up to something on the second floor. Oh, nothing at all to do with . . . with the monster, or anything,” she added quickly.

McGonagall’s slowly raised her eyebrows. “Up to something?”

“Err . . . yes. So we went to stop him, and that’s when we heard the voice.”

Professor McGonagall glanced at Dumbledore and nodded slowly. “Yes, I believe I understand,” she said. “Your brother Percy was amorously engaged with Miss Clearwater, and Hagrid spotted them. You were going to stop them, but apparently they parted ways before you arrived and heard the voice.”

Ginny flushed. We can’t get hardly anything past her. “Err . . . yes, Professor.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Fear not, Miss Weasley. Your brother did not get caught by anyone who could punish him, and we have no intention of telling him what we have just learned.” He leaned back in his chair. “I am glad you told us, however. I wondered why Miss Clearwater was in that area, as well.”

Harry and Ginny briefly considered telling the two professors about the conversation they had overheard between Penelope and Nearly Headless Nick, but they decided there was no way it could help anyone.

“Everyone’s going to think I did it,” Harry said, watching the two adults closely. Fortunately, neither of them showed any signs of blame or censure.

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore said. “Yet you did not.”

“Headmaster . . .” Harry trailed off, uncertain how to ask what he wanted to know. “Is it possible that . . . err . . . that I’m related to Salazar Slytherin somehow? You know, like . . . like an heir?”

“Ah, so you did find the legend.” The Headmaster began stroking his beard. “To the best of my knowledge, you are not related to Salazar Slytherin. Nor are you, Miss Weasley. However, wizarding bloodlines are so thoroughly intermingled that it is entirely possible that either of you might be. For that matter, it is not unreasonable to propose that all four of us in this room are somehow related to Salazar Slytherin.”

A terrible thought exploded into Ginny’s brain, and she voiced it before she could stop herself. “Are we related to each other?” She could feel the blood draining out of both of their faces.

The Headmaster began to chuckle, and Professor McGonagall raised her hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to cover her titters.

“Well, are we?” Harry asked, enraged by the delay.

“Not that I am aware of,” Dumbledore said at last. “Again, it is possible that your families are connected in some way, if you’ll pardon the pun, but no more so than any other pair of wizarding families.”

Harry and Ginny both sighed in relief.

“I believe we are finished here,” McGonagall said crisply, her professional demeanour back in place. “We have many other things to do, Headmaster.”

“Indeed. You will accompany them back to Gryffindor tower?”

“Of course.”

Moments later, Harry and Ginny followed Professor McGonagall down the stairs and out into the seventh-floor corridor. “I don’t suppose you’d let us Shift back to our dormitories, would you?” Ginny asked.

McGonagall furrowed her brow in confusion. “I do not think that would be wise. Why?”

Harry sighed. “Class is over, and you said everyone was going to back to their common rooms. We’d rather get back into the tower without forcing everyone to notice us.”

“Ah.” The professor paused for a moment and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, Harry. I truly believe that that would cause more problems than it would solve.”

“Yeah, we figured,” Ginny said.

McGonagall stopped several yards away from the Fat Lady’s portrait. “I will leave you here. You are staying at Hogwarts for the holidays?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, Professor.”

“Please be very careful over the next two weeks. I will return tomorrow after the others have left. Until then, do not leave the tower unless it is absolutely necessary.”

They nodded again and walked the last few steps to the Fat Lady. As soon as they stepped into the common room, the other students stopped talking. Glancing around the crowded room, Harry and Ginny spotted Hermione and Ron at a table near the far wall. They quickly skirted the crowd to join their friends, and conversation gradually resumed amongst the other students.

“What happened?” Hermione whispered as soon as they sat down.

With Ron keeping an eye out for eavesdroppers, Harry and Ginny related everything they had seen, heard, and done since leaving the common room.

You know, we never actually stirred the potion, Harry said.

Might be more important now than ever. I’ll go.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Ginny said aloud. “I need to use the loo.”

She went up to her dormitory and locked herself in one of the cubicles in the toilet. Then, with careful focus, she Shifted into the open area of Myrtle’s bathroom.

“Where’s she gone?” Hermione asked in a whisper.

“We never made it to the potion,” Harry said. “Will it be okay if she stirs it now?”

Hermione considered for a moment and then nodded. “Should be.”

The second-floor toilet was relatively dry, for once, and Myrtle was not there. Ginny slipped into the third cubicle, stirred the Polyjuice Potion carefully, and then Shifted back to the toilets in Gryffindor tower.

“We’re still doing it, then?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry said as Ginny rejoined them. “We’re still going to be here, and I bet they won’t have any luck stopping the attacks over the holidays. If we find out anything useful from Malfoy, Ginny and I can tell Professor McGonagall. She won’t care too much how we got the information.”

Hermione bit her lip nervously. “Harry, if we do find out something useful, the professors are going to ask to see it in the Pensieve, just like they did for the voice. There’s absolutely no way we can hide what we did then, and we’ll have broken loads of rules. I think they might care after all.”

Ginny and Harry had really hoped to avoid addressing this particular point with Hermione, but they knew she would not let them dodge the issue. “You may be right, Hermione,” Ginny said. “But we’d rather take the chance and take the punishment than let this monster run loose.”

“Of course,” Hermione said. “I didn’t mean . . . it’s just . . .”

She just can’t stand the idea of getting in that much trouble.

Especially when she’s the mastermind for the whole plan.

“There are one or two Muggle-born students that we really like, Hermione,” Harry said. “It’s worth it, even if we get nothing.”

Hermione flushed and gave a jerky little nod. The four friends sat in awkward silence until Ron cleared his throat. “I didn’t know Penelope Clearwater was Muggle-born.”

“Me, neither,” Ginny said. “If Percy hadn’t just made a complete arse of himself, I might actually like him a tiny bit.”

“What?” Hermione asked. “Why?”

Ginny shrugged. “He’s such a stickler about everything else. I might’ve worried that he was starting to buy into the whole pure-blood nonsense, too.”

“Oh.” The brunette shook her head. “I know you’re not terribly fond of him, and I haven’t spent much time around him. Still, I truly can’t imagine Percy doing anything like that.”

“I can’t, either,” Ron said.

“He still shouldn’t treat her like that,” Ginny said.

“I’m sure he’s regretting it now.” Hermione glanced around the common room. “Where is he?”

“Dunno,” Harry said. “I haven’t seen him since we got back here.”

“He left just after the professors dumped us here.”

Harry and Ginny spun around to find the twins standing behind them, their faces sombre.

“Heard a song about you two today,” Fred said in a low voice, tugging Ginny’s hair gently.

She batted his hand away. “It’s rubbish, Fred.”

“Yeah, I know,” Fred said, pulling up a footstool and dropping onto it. “Everyone’s talking about it, though.”

George shook his head. “We’ve tried to set things straight, but . . .”

“We’re not sure what else to tell them,” Fred finished. “Did you see who did it?”

“Of course not! If we had, you’d know about it by now,” Ginny said.

The Gryffindors had dinner in the common room that night, and then most of the students disappeared into the dormitories to pack. Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys — minus Percy — all sat together and watched the others running up and down the stairs, looking for lost possessions and exchanging Christmas gifts. As far as any of them knew, no one else in their house was staying at Hogwarts over the holiday.

By the time Harry and Ginny went to bed, well after many of the other Gryffindors, they still had not seen any sign of Percy. Ginny assumed he was in his own room, but they were not quite worried enough to climb the stairs and make sure.

Ginny wrapped the Invisibility Cloak around her shoulders and settled in next to Harry. Hermione said the potion will be ready in about a week.

Yeah. I hope we can get Malfoy to talk to us.

She snorted softly. Shouldn’t be hard to get him to brag about it.

What if we really don’t learn anything? Harry asked. What if Malfoy doesn’t know any more than we do?

Well . . . I suppose we’ll have one less person to keep an eye on.

They were both quiet for several minutes. It’ll be weird not going home tomorrow, Ginny said.

There’s no one there.

I know, but . . . It’s like the first time we spent the night at Privet Drive. I never really expected there to be a time when I didn’t go home for a holiday.

Harry thought for a moment and then verbalised what she needed to hear. Most of the important parts of home will be here.

I know. She sighed into his shoulder. I’m being broody. You’ll be here, and that’s all I really need.

He grinned and squeezed her waist. Keeps things simple, doesn’t it?

Ginny smiled in spite of her mood. Yeah. Easy questions, easy answers, no complications. That’s us.

Exactly. Simple.

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Meaning of One, Part Two: Chambers and Secrets - Chapter 16: Pursuits by Sovran